#i'm back once again to put men in dresses

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART TWO

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 2.2K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, unwanted groping, attempted SA, mentions of being roofied, mention of blood, physical violence, alcohol, clubbing, someone flashing a crowd, cussing

A/N ✦ I wrote part two a lot quicker than I thought I would, I'm actually really enjoying this story so far! Stay tuned for part three :)

PART ONE »»» Series Masterlist

I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule

“Would you get your head out of la-la-land and focus.”, Nat said, snapping her fingers in front of your face.

It had been three days since your interaction with Bucky, and you kept finding yourself daydreaming about him, wishing the handsome man would come back into the coffee shop soon.

“Sorry Nat.”, you said sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.

Your friend stood in front of you in her bedroom, a tight purple dress clung to her figure.

“What do you think of this one?”

“You could wear a trash bag and still look amazing. But I think that I like the green one more.”, you said pointing to the silky cocktail dress she had tossed onto the bed next to where you sat. 

“Well then I guess green it is.”

The two of you were at your and Nat's shared apartment, readying yourselves to go out for your mutual friend Thor’s birthday party. Nat considered herself a clubbing queen, she loved to be the life of the party. You on the other hand would prefer to be at home. 

“Now little-miss-wallflower.”, Nat said pointing to you, “We need to put together something for you to wear.”

She had you try on outfit after outfit, repeatedly saying none of them had that oomph she was going for. 

“Nat can I just wear this?”, you pleaded with her, gesturing to the long black bodycon dress she had put you in.

“No, that's not fitting the image I have in my head.”, she said, ruffling through the closet. 

“And what exactly is that image?”

“I want a sexy, bold, outgoing vibe.”

“You know that being bold and outgoing aren’t exactly my thing, right?”

“Exactly, you need to get out of your comfort zone Y/N, live a little.”

After several more outfit changes Nat finally found the perfect ensemble. A red-wine colored dress adorned your body. Its neckline dipped dangerously low, reaching below your sternum and the bottom of the garment barely hit mid-thigh. 

“Isn’t this a bit much?”, you asked, looking yourself up and down in the mirror. 

“Not in my opinion.” she shrugged, “But anyways you look amazing so I say this is it.”

Staring at yourself again, you did have to admit the dress did make you feel hot. 

“Okay fine, you win, I’ll wear this.”

Nat smiled from ear to ear, “Amazing! Now let’s finish getting ready.”

You added a pair of black heels to your outfit, straightened your hair, and Nat had helped you do a smokey eye for your makeup. After an hour of getting ready, the two of you were walking out the front door and heading downstairs to wait for your Uber. 

After the quick car ride, you and Nat found yourselves outside a club, a bright blue neon sign reading Supernova sat above the front door. Both of you joined the line to get in. Once you reached the front, the bouncer checked your ID’s and stamped your hands with a shooting star that lit up under the flashing lights. 

You scanned the club, glancing over the horde of people, before your eyes finally found who you were looking for. Grabbing Nat’s hand you pulled her behind you in the direction of your friends.

“Y/N! Nat!”, Thor cheered seeing the two of you approaching. 

“Hi Thor! Happy Birthday!”, you yelled over the booming music, giving him a hug.

You then greeted your other friends; Wanda, and Clint. The group sat at a table near one of the many small stages scattered about the club. Each of the platforms had girls dancing on them. Your eyes quickly looked away as one of them took off her top, cheers erupting from the group of men standing below her. You felt beyond out of your element. 

“You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin Y/N.”, Clint chuckled at you.

You shrugged at him, “I think I just need to get a drink in me. I’ll be right back.”

Walking away from your friends you snaked your way through the throng of people dancing, reaching the bar. 

The bartender, a girl with bright pink hair and several facial piercings, turned from the man she was talking to, yelling from the other end of the bar top, “Be with you in just a second!”

You nodded at her, looking up at the chalkboard menu sitting above many shelves of alcohol. Your eyes scanned over the neon pink chalk settling on the special for the night. 

Tonight's Special: Midnight Whisper

⛦ vodka, blue curacao, grenadine, sprite, edible glitter

⛦ $11

You leaned up against the bar, studying your surroundings while you waited. Couples were dancing a little too close for comfort, there was a group of girls circling around one of their friends as she threw up in a trashcan by the dancefloor, a group of frat boys sang along to the music blasting through the club. 

As your eyes glanced at the V.I.P. area, they widened in shock. Bucky sat in the corner, surrounded by Steve and a few more men. You locked eyes with him and he raised his glass towards you, shooting you a smile. 

“What can I get for you?”

You jumped in surprise, turning to see the bartender. 

“Can I get a Midnight Whisper?”

“Of course, that’ll be $11.”

Reaching inside your purse your fingers wrapped around your wallet, pulling it out to pay. 

“I’ve got it.”, a voice said from behind you.

You looked over your shoulder seeing a man you didn’t know behind you. 

“It’s okay really.”, you said.

“No, I’ve got it sexy, a lady with a body like yours shouldn’t have to pay.”, he smirked down at you.

He handed the bartender some cash.

“Um thank you.”, you said flatly.

“No problem, smoke show, I’m Caleb, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”, you grumbled, not meaning it at all, but trying to be polite because he just bought you a drink. 

“Here you go girly.”, the pink haired girl slid you your cocktail.

Caleb slid his arm around your shoulders, hand lingering over your drink. You were looking at his face as he did this, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation.

Reaching for your drink, you turned away from him, “Thanks for the drink, I’ve got to get back to my friends now, they’re probably wondering where I went.”

Caleb’s hand shot out, gripping your bicep, “What do you mean you’ve got to go back to your friends? I just bought that for you, can’t you stay and at least talk to me for a bit?”

“First of all,let go of me.”, you hissed yanking your arm out of his grip, “And secondly I tried to pay for my own drink, but you insisted, I said thank you for it, but that doesn’t mean I owe you shit.”

You turned and weaved back through the crowd towards your friends. 

As you approached Nat raised an eyebrow at you.

“What’s got you in such a sour mood.”, she said, studying your visibly pissed expression. 

“Some dude bought my drink for me and acted like I owed him a conversation because of it.”, you rolled your eyes.

“I would be irritated too.”, Wanda said from beside you.

You laughed, “Anyway enough about that weirdo, guess who I just saw Nat?”

“Who?”

Grinning, you said, “That Bucky guy from work the other day!”

“Oh my God!”

“Who’s Bucky?”, Wanda asked.

You filled your friend in on the handsome man. 

“Why don’t you go ask for his number?”, Clint said, eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Because he’s in the V.I.P area, and I don’t have the balls to do it.”, you laughed out, taking a sip of your drink. 

Just then Thor appeared, having come from the dancefloor.

“Come on guys let's go dance!”, he yelled.

He grabbed your hand pulling you with him, the rest of your group following behind.

As you guys danced and drank, you began to feel weird. Your head was pounding and you were hit with a wave of nausea. 

“I don’t feel good.”, you whispered to Nat, and you rushed to the bathrooms. 

“Hey wait-”, she called after you.

You disappeared into the crowd leaving Nat behind, as you stumbled through bodies, your vision began to get blurry leaving you a disoriented mess. There was no way that one drink had done this to you.

Finally you reached the hallway in the back of the club that led to the bathrooms. You shakily leaned up against the wall, dragging yourself along the cool cinder blocks towards the ladies room. Suddenly you found yourself pushed up against the wall, your back smacking it so hard you almost felt the wind rush out of your lungs.

“Hi beautiful.”, Caleb jeered at you. 

“What-”, you slurred out, tongue feeling heavy.

He cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand, moving your lolling head back. His other hand settled on the back of your thigh, slowly creeping its way up, his fingers digging into your ass cheek. Your body was like Jell-O, you couldn’t move, leaving you defenseless. You felt tears begin to well in your eyes as you looked up at him. 

Next thing you knew Caleb was lying flat on his back a few feet away and you crumpled sliding down the wall to the ground, your legs unable to support yourself.

“What the hell man!”, Caleb screamed, a cut to the side of his head had blood cascading down his face.

“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing.”, someone said.

You looked up at your savior, realizing it was the same man who had generously tipped you the other day. 

“Oh what so a guy can’t feel up his girlfriend anymore?”, Caleb lied.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky said looking down at you, “Is this guy your boyfriend?”

“No.”, you gurgled out.

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about! The bitch is just drunk!”, Caleb yelled as he stood up. 

Bucky however knew that wasn’t the case. You were obviously out of it, but not from alcohol, you gave away the tell tale signs of being roofied. 

After he saw you at the bar, he had been watching you. He saw your interaction with Caleb, almost getting up after the man had grabbed you, but relaxed when he saw you could handle it on your own. However when he saw you stumbling off towards the bathrooms and Caleb stalking after you, he stood up and followed the two of you, ignoring Steve asking him where he was going. 

He had entered the hallway just as the slime ball had groped you, and without thinking, Bucky decked him in the head. In all honesty Bucky hadn’t felt this angry in a while. It pissed him off to no end, seeing Caleb taking advantage of you, the shy and sweet barista he had just met the other day. 

“Y/N, oh my God what the hell happened?”, Nat appeared at the end of the hallway. 

“This jackass drugged her.”, Bucky growled, nodding in Caleb's direction.

Nat moved towards the aforementioned jackass, but was stopped by Bucky putting his arm out.

“Let me deal with him. Get her up to the V.I.P area, let Steve know what happened.”

Nodding Nat moved down to the ground, throwing your arm around her shoulder and dragging you upwards. You stumbled as the two of you walked back down the hallway, out into the club. Looking back over your shoulder you saw Bucky nearing Caleb, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up. 

Hazily you remember Nat heaving you to the V.I.P section. Steve immediately recognized the pair of you from the other day, and he jumped up helping Nat carry you to one of the couches. While they did so Nat explained the situation to him. 

“Tony go get her some water.”, Steve told one of the other men that had been sitting with him. 

The dark haired man turned and headed towards the bar with urgency. 

“Y/N, Nat are you guys okay?”, you heard Clint shouting from the velvet rope sectioning off the V.I.P area from the rest of the club.

“Are those your friends?”, Steve asked looking at the group that had gathered. 

“Yeah they are.”, Nat said. 

“Hey guys let them up here.”

One of the security guards by the rope lifted it up and allowed your friends through. 

“You know that guy from earlier she said was weird? Somehow he drugged her.”, Nat said to your friends.

“Where’s he at? What's he look like? I'm going to go kick his ass.”, Thor stated, turning to head back down to the dancefloor and hunt down Caleb. 

“Someone else already beat you to it.”, Nat said pointing to Bucky who had returned from the hallway.

“Sam, Scott, can the two of you go get the mess in the hallway cleaned up?”, Bucky asked as he neared everyone. 

“Gotcha.”, Sam nodded.

“What’d you do kill him?”, Nat asked gob smacked.

“No, just taught him a lesson about keeping his hands to himself.”, he said as he picked up a cocktail napkin from one of the tables, wiping blood off his knuckles. 

Your vision started blurring again and the ringing in your ears drowned out any other sounds. The last thing you remember was Bucky looking at you worriedly before you finally passed out. 

PART THREE

I AM OPENING A TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

[obimaulartfire]

@nicolabarth and I drew Sithywan (Darth Lurus) and Maul in these two gowns after I saw them on my dashboard.

Aren't they stunning? I think Lurus wears this dress to events because he's able to get blood on it without it showing. And he looks gorgeous ;)

Go give nicolabarth's post some love, too! Support the power couple

[entitled-fangirl]

War prize.

Cregan Stark x Targaryen!reader

Summary: The North hates Cregan's wife and shows it rather harshly. Cregan is there to tell them off.

Warnings: violence, sexism, talks of losing virginity unwillingly, the poor reader just going through it😭

A/n: My writing is kinda eh on this one but I got it done which is all that matters. Huge italicized sections mean like a little flashback in case you needed to know that. Based on an ask!

Masterlist

........................................................

She watched her guard lock the door behind him.

How long had she been stuck in this castle?

She felt used. Taken as a trophy and nothing more. Purely a way to show status.

Purely a way to show who won the war.

Cregan Stark had won the war. And now she was his.

He was kind and caring, quick to compassion and slow to anger. If not for the others, she could've seen this as a happy marriage.

But the others made that impossible.

For the door was not locked to keep her in, but to keep others out.

Cregan saw the very actions his people tried against her, and he was concerned. 

It didn't help that all of her dresses were green. A reminder of what had come to pass.

Anytime Cregan's back was turned, something happened to her. Whether it was harsh words, spitting at her feet, or even once a manhandling that almost turned into a mob.

Cregan knew she deserved better. She was kind. He hardly believed her to be a Hightower. At first glance that day in the Keep, he thought perhaps she was Aemond's wife, or another one of Aegon's whores he had always kept around.

But no. Aemond's twin sister.

…

He felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness when two men threw the woman to the ground in front of him.

Her dress was torn in places. Her hair was tangled and dirt ran from her temple to her chin, clearly having been thrown around a lot. She wiped the falling tears from her face with bruised hands. 

"What is this?" He asked the men. Others began to crowd around them to see what would become of her.

The men had only seen prostitutes along the path from the North to the Keep, and even those were few. Seeing a highborn lady was a rare sight.

"Found her hiding away," the man on her right commented.

Cregan sighed and reached down, pulling her chin up so he could look at her. He tipped her face from side to side, observing her. "And what did you hope I'd say when you threw a princess down at my feet? Did you expect me to reward you?"

The man paled. "Well, this is a traitor, my lord. Surely-"

"-Her only crime was the womb she was born from."

"She wears their colors still, Lord Stark-"

"Is she? I can hardly tell under the mud you've drug her through." He huffed, "I want you two out of my sight."

They looked at one another and nodded, moving to pick up the girl again. She jerked back in fear. 

"Leave her," he grumbled. "Well? Be gone. All of you!"

Slowly, they filed out of the room. "Are you gravely injured?" He asked softly.

"Not particularly, my lord," she whimpered.

He sighed and bent at the knee, joining her on the ground. "Did any of them truly put their hands on you? More than to drag you here?"

She wiped her face again, "Are you hoping to take my innocence, my lord?"

A noise involuntarily left his throat. "What?"

"I… It is yours. Just please don't harm me," she sniffled.

Any motion he made to comfort her, he pulled away as if burned. "I'm not going to do that."

"No, no please don't leave me to them," she begged when he pulled away. "Please don't let them have me. I'll do anything."

"They won't have you," he tried again. "Nothing more is going to happen to you. Now, go get redressed and come back. You're not leaving my side until I get this situated."

…

After a few hours, Cregan unlocked the door and entered their shared chambers. "My love?"

He cursed under his breath when he noticed she had fallen asleep on the bed. He wouldn't have been so loud had he known.

He sat on the bed and brushed her hair from her face. "Wake up, dear wife."

She hummed in discontent.

His lips pulled into a thin line. Things had gone especially wrong lately and it had begun to show in her actions. 

"C'mon." He began to pull her up. 

She whined and began to lean into him, tucking her face into his neck.

He chuckled, "I have something for you."

Her eyes opened, "Oh, do you?" 

…

There was outrage when Cregan took her as a wife. The North fought against the idea of having a Southern traitor as their Lady.

He had promised King Aegon III to be fair and just, and the boy said okay, knowing that he would stay honest to his word. 

But the North hated her all the same.

Cregan never considered to fear for her safety, for she was the Warden's wife, and he thought the people would know better than to touch her. 

That, and she hadn't told him of the things said right to her face when he wasn't around. She figured he knew. 

They walked through the city, her arm in his as he showed her around. She took in every sight she could, entranced by the culture of the North. 

But that also welcomed the stares.

Cregan had noticed them immediately, and he flipped her hood up. He didn't care about them, but he knew she would. So by doing so, he was hoping it would bring her a little more comfort. 

Anyone in Westeros would recognize that silver hair.

He leaned down just a bit. "Just tell me when you grow tired or cold."

She nodded, "May I go explore?"

He smiled, "So eager to get away from me?"

"No," she corrects.

"I'm only jesting. Go on."

She grinned and began to look around, trying to decide where to go first.

"Don't wander off too far," he remarked as he moved towards a lord to chat.

She nodded and went, walking a little further down the road. She looked back occasionally to make sure she was still in his line of sight. In doing so, she bumped into a woman harshly.

Y/n pulled back and apologized. "Forgive me!"

The woman set her basket down and straightened her skirt. "Foolish girl. Watch where you step next time."

"I do apologize." She dug in her pocket, pulling out a few coins. "Here. For your trouble."

The woman's eyes widened. She pulled the coins from her hand accusingly. "Where did you get these?" She hissed.

"Well… I… just from…" she turned back to where she could see Cregan. 

The woman grabbed her arm. "Did you steal these? Tell me where."

She jerked against the woman's movements. "No. No, I didn't."

"My lady, is this girl bothering you?" A tall man interfered, helping the woman.

The woman tilted her head, "She's throwing around coins like she's something of value. Look at 'er."

The man eyed her and reached up, pulling the princess' hood down. Their eyes widened. 

She turned to try to catch Cregan's attention, but the man pulled her to him. "A Targaryen, eh? The usurper's bitch sister, aren't you?"

"Please let me go," she whimpered.

"A green traitor in Winterfell? Seems the rumors were right."

She tried to pull her arm away, "Unhand me."

"Shut it, traitor scum."

"CREGAN!" She yelled out of instinct.

Cregan's head snapped immediately, his heart dropping to his stomach. His eyes scanned the crowd, trying to find her amidst the people that had begun to gather. But he couldn't see her. His worry grew and he began to step out into the crowd in hope of finding her.

She fought against the man's grip. She remembered this feeling of helplessness from only weeks before. "Stop! Please… Please, I'll do anything! Just stop!" 

Anyone around them was stopped now, onlooking or shouting at what was going on.

Cregan's jaw set as he figured she was in the midst of it, and he rolled his shoulders back.

"CREGAN!" He heard again, and that was all he needed.

He began to shove people to the side in an attempt to move through the mob that had begun to form. His angered shouts were drowned out.

Luckily, the Northern Warden was burly and built like a wall, so he was able to work through the crowd by sheer force alone. 

Once towards the middle, he finally saw her. 

The man held her tightly by her silver hair. Her hands were trying to lighten his harsh grip on her as she cried. She couldn't stop the others’ hands from pulling at her skirt or the way they spit at her, but she could at least try to stop the pain erupting from her scalp.

"ENOUGH!" Cregan yelled. He finally made it to them, and his hand gripped the man's throat tightly and he leaned down to his ear. "Unhand her."

She sunk to the ground and clutched at her dress.

Cregan kept his hand firm but looked out at the others that still surrounded them. "Leave." he growled through his teeth. "All of you." When no one moved, he threw the man to the ground and turned to them in rage. "LEAVE!"

One by one they left quietly. He looked down at the man. "May the gods have mercy on you, for I have none."

…

"Keep your eyes closed," he chuckled when she almost stumbled. "I've got you."

"How far must we go?"

"Almost there, I assure you."

After a while, he finally sat her down and instructed her to hold on her arms.

A heavy weight was placed in them. Something soft. Something moving.

"Open."

"A dire wolf?" Her eyes widened.

"Mere pup now, but a mighty predator later. I felt I owed you one."

She frowned, "You don't owe me a thing. I… I feel as if I owe you."

He couldn't stop a bright laugh from escaping his throat. "Hardly."

"Cregan," she began, trying to ignore the way the pup cuddled into her for warmth. "You have saved me time and time again. Without you, I would be in some brothel, or maimed by a man without heart, or…" her voice faltered, "Paraded through King's Landing as a true war prize. But I am not. I'm your wife instead. That is a fate I did not deserve."

"But I failed you. I promised to protect you, but I find that I cannot do that as well as I had hoped. This war was hard on my people. While I cannot fault them for their anger, it is wrong to use it on their Lady of Winterfell." His voice grew persistent. "You are mine. You are no Hightower anymore. You and I both know that."

She nodded and began to pet the wolf. "I pray that the North does one day."

"They will," he confirmed. "I shall make them if I must."

"I just don't want to be stuck in this room anymore. These walls are driving me mad," she admitted.

He sighed. "I'm sure they are. But soon you shall have a protector for when I cannot be there." He leaned down at pet the small pup on her lap. "This too will pass eventually."

"Once I give you an heir?"

"Once we have a child," he corrected, "I'm sure they shall be lighter on you."

"And until then?"

He smiled sweetly, "I'll do all I can. Now." He brushed hair from her face. "Please say you like it," he said as he looked down at the pup.

Only then did she let herself truly consider that she now had a dire wolf. "It's beautiful. I just…"

He held a finger up, "Enough of that. I promise you that I and this pup will not let another hand touch you."

She flushed lightly and smiled. "Thank you. I do not say that enough."

He shrugged. "You do, it just usually looks like other things instead."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he looked down at her dress, "wearing the dress that I had made for you is a thank you in and of itself. Blue suits you well. I could name things for all eternity. You are a perfect wife. And I admire you greatly."

"You've only known me seven moons."

"And that is seven moons enough to know."

"Cregan, I am a trophy of your accomplishments."

"You are hardly that."

She sighed, "But that is what they see me as."

"Do I?"

She considered his question. "I don't believe so."

"Then does it matter? I respect you, and with time, I will make sure they do as well."

She nodded and adjusted the dog in her arms. "Very well. I trust you."

He smiled and stood. "That's all I ask for. Now, name your pup and dress for supper. I'll come collect you myself. Is that alright?"

She nodded again.

"The North will like you," he left off with as he closed the door behind him.

She heard the lock behind him.

In time. 

In time.

Either they learn to like her, or they shall meet a Stark dire wolf closely.

The actual dire wolf or Cregan Stark, it didn't matter.

Their jaws would both equally snap at any threat.

.................................................

Taglist: @twinkletwinklenotastar, @kidd3ath,@yujyujj, @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @8812-342, @thorins-queen-of-erebor, @kingdomzeldaquest @nyxbranwenn, @callsignwidow, @a1lexh-blog, @alyssa-dayne, @ethereal-athalia, @ashovertheriver,

[spatialwave]

are you jealous?

➸ ask: “Please could we get ‘i'm not jealous. you're just mine’ for Jayce😭” ➸ pairing: jayce talis x fem!reader ➸ word count: 1.9k ➸ tags: mdni! smut, nsfw, pwp, rough sex, dominant!jayce, jealousy, established relationship, no use of y/n. ➸ notes: hehe, thanks for asking!!

Jealousy was a trait that Jayce buried deep within. One that he wasn’t proud of, and he hated every fibre of his being when his mind was filled with thoughts of it. Especially when it came to you.

You were beautiful, a goddess among men. The poor man couldn't watch you waltzing through Piltover without his arm stretching over your shoulders as a silent declaration of “She’s mine.”

Jayce’s frustration often translated into the bedroom, where he could get rid of pent-up anger and stress. You were happily oblivious to it, indulging in any attention you could collect from the man. He was your boyfriend; his attention was the only one you sought.

Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor, the door shutting and locking behind you as you entered your home, with Jayce lingering after—another day, another fancy charity event, with the Man of Progress at the centre of attention.

“Oh, gods,” you uttered quietly, lifting a foot behind you to help remove the uncomfortably tall heels one by one. “Remind me never to wear these out again.”

Jayce was oddly silent behind you, only the quiet hum of acknowledgement as he shrugged his coat off and hung it neatly on the rack.

“Hello? Jayce?” Your voice was louder this time, having spun on your heels to wave your hand in front of his face, “Had one too many glasses of wine, did you?”

You were met with a look of discontentment, his brows slightly furrowed together. You blinked, head tilting curiously.

“You had fun talking Salo’s ear off all night, did you?” He huffed; the accusation caused your mouth to drop.

“Excuse me?” You questioned, delicate fingers lifting to your necklace as you began taking your jewelry off. You didn’t have the time for petty arguing as you walked toward your bedroom, eager to undress, “I suppose I had a few good chats with him about the future of Piltover. Why are you so upset? I’m making connections, aren’t I?”

“I’m not,” Jayce hurried behind you, footsteps heavy, “I’m just saying that you seemed to like his attention.”

His words were hushed as he spoke, obviously a bit sheepish for saying so. The wine in his stomach had done a great job removing the filter he’d so carefully put up every day.

“I can tell when you’re upset. I’m not an idiot… and quite frankly,” you looked over your shoulder once inside your room, hands behind your back struggling to undo the zipper of your dress, “I don’t appreciate the callous accusation. What’s your point?”

Jayce was quick to help, fingers pulling down the zipper of your dress. His lips met with your skin as your shoulders and back became exposed. Stubble tickling you and leaving you a bit breathless.

It was hard to stay upset with him.

“I’m just saying…” his voice wandered as he pressed kisses along your shoulder, up your neck and into your ear, “You were all over him.”

Your eyes had fallen shut, hands keeping the dress pressed against your chest so it didn’t fall right to the floor. The kisses left you shivering with each movement—realization hitting when he kissed the shell of your ear.

“Jayce,” you whispered, turning your head to look at him. You stared into his eyes, hazel with golden flakes that sparkled under the right lighting. His rough hands were on your hips, possessive

“Are you jealous?” The words fell from your lips along with a smirk, the question lighting your insides aflame.

“Not jealous,” he growled into your ear, hands grabbing your hips and pulling you back so your ass was pressed against the obvious erection growing beneath his slacks, “you’re just mine.”

Oh, gods. That awoke something in you.

“Ah,” you let out a gentle moan, allowing yourself to enjoy the way his hands groped at you eagerly, practically ripping the dress from your body that you no longer cared about keeping neat as it crumpled to the floor, “So, you don’t like it when other guys talk to me?”

Jayce huffed, lips attacking your neck from behind, unafraid to bite into the skin and suck. A silent reaction that spoke volumes.

His hard cock pressed against your ass again, separated by his slacks and the lace panties you wore that wouldn’t be on your body for much longer. You were suddenly pushed forward against the wall next to you, a gasp escaping your throat as his hands reached around your body from his spot behind you and delved right into your underwear.

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he whispered, voice heavy and laced with lust. Two fingers rubbed slow circles against your clit, and it took all your energy to keep your knees from buckling beneath you, “Laughing at his terrible jokes… your fucking hand on his arm.”

A mewl escaped your lips, ass pressing back into him with need as his fingers assaulted your clit and shot an overwhelming amount of pleasure through your body. Your hands were pressed against the wall, nails scratching at it.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered.

“You think you can just flirt with anyone you want?” He growled, licking a long stripe up your neck, lips ghosting against your ear and his other hand squeezing painfully tight on your hip, “Tell me.”

“No,” you answered obediently. You had never flirted, or at least intended so, but gods, you’d be damned if this wasn’t turning you on.

His fingers moved easily through your folds, soaking wet as your juices seeped through your underwear. 

“Will you be a good girl for me?” Jayce whispered, lips moving down your shoulder and back as he dropped to his knees behind you. Fingers hooking into your panties and pulling them down your body, slowly over the globes of your ass.

“Yes,” you said softly, eager to please.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered, hands fondling your ass before giving a hard smack. “I said, tell me.”

You winced in pain, “I’m yours, Jayce. Only yours.”

Jayce had never quite felt this way before, a rush of power and dominance taking over. Knowing very well now that this side of him wouldn’t go unseen again.

His eager eyes watched as his hands spread your cheeks apart, exposing your tight hole and pussy that was so wet it dripped down your thighs. A pitiful mess, clenching around nothing.

“That’s right, baby,” he groaned, leaning in and licking from your swollen clit to your entrance. He poked and prodded, earning whimpers of pleasure from you that filled his stomach with heat and made his cock twitch in his pants.

He pulled away from your cunt after a minute of devouring you like a starved man, chin wet and glistening as he pushed a slow, deliberate finger inside your pussy, that squeezed impossibly tight around the digit. Having been waiting for any form of stimulation.

“Fuck—“ you choked, face pressed against the wall and ass out.

He then stretched you with two fingers, your tight heat clenching hard around them. Your hips stuttered, knees shaking, and you had to use the strength of your hands pressed to the wall to keep you upright. The wet sounds of your cunt being fingers with no remorse filled the room, mixing with your quiet moans and Jayce’s soft praises.

“So good,” he whispered, kissing the back of your thigh and under the curve of your ass, “Do you think I should fuck you? Do you deserve it?”

“Yes, please,” you cried, unable to take any more of the teasing as your nails scratched the wall again. His fingers pumping inside you had already made you crawl slowly towards your release, but the absence of stimulation on your clit kept you from falling off, “I deserve it—“

“Prove it,” his voice was heavy, full of lust. He moved slowly to stand behind you, the sound of his belt undoing, making you tighten around the fingers that abused your swollen sex.

You glanced over your shoulder, a pout on your lips as you looked at him with pleading eyes.

“Please, Jayce, I’m all yours,” you begged, cheeks burning a furious red as you fucked yourself back onto his fingers, “Only yours, I promise.”

“Gods,” he breathed, removing his fingers from your cunt and pushing them between your lips, “You’re lucky I love you.”

You sucked around his fingers, the familiar taste of your juices heavy on your tongue. You moaned loudly around them, face pressing against the wall as he pushed his cock inside your greedy cunt with one sharp thrust. His thick girth stretched you, an amount of fullness that always surprised you, even after countless times of being fucked by him.

He snapped his hips against yours at a relentless pace, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing louder than your mewls.

Jayce lifted a hand into your hair, tugging your head back so he could breathe against your ear, “You take me so well, baby.”

A whine strangled in your throat, a delicious sound that settled a familiar heat in the pit of Jayce’s stomach. He let go of your hair, leaning back so he could focus both hands on your

hips, squeezing so tight that you’d be surprised if your skin didn’t form lingering bruises in its wake.

Your heat enveloped him perfectly, your inner muscles clenching tight around his length with each deep penetration. Enough to rumble a groan from his chest as he focused on fucking you brutally and senselessly, feeding off every cry of pleasure that came from you.

“Cum for me,” his words came heavy from his chest, leaning forward as he greeted your otherwise abandoned clit that was dying for attention with a heavy-handed touch, “Please, baby. I need you to cum.”

Your toes curled against the floor as you felt the tight cord in your abdomen snap, his fingers circling your clit and cock stretching you out, leaving you nothing more than a sex-induced mess. His name rolled off your tongue in repetition, walls tightening hard around his cock as you milked him–desperate for him to fill you.

“Fuck, Jayce–”

“Just like that,” he groaned, eyes watching the way his cock sheathed inside your aching cunt, “fuck, baby, you look so good. You take me so good. So fucking perfect.”

A moan caught in his throat as he leaned forward, teeth and lips pressing against your shoulder. He came hard, hips stuttering and losing his pace as his cock twitched inside you as his climax hit him with unbridled intensity. Jayce’s fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, grunting heavy sounds against your skin as he slammed into you with one final thrust.

His cock pumped stream after stream of hot cum inside you, your still spasming walls coaxing out every last drop.

“Ah, fuck–” he sputtered, his body nearly going limp as he let go of your hips, muscled arms instead wrapping around your waist, “... I love you.”

The sweetest giggle bubbled up from your chest, turning your head against the wall to meet his gaze, “That was hot,” you murmured, blinking slowly, “You’re sexy when you’re jealous.”

“Please, no,” Jayce groaned, chuckling dryly as he buried his face against your neck in coy embarrassment, “I hate it.”

“You’re a dork. I love you, too.” You beamed.

[smutoperator]

The Men's Show

Minatozaki Sana x Male Reader (+3 other guys)

Part 1 of 3 of Twice The Fun

Tags: airtight, all holes filled, anal, bukkake, carry-fucking, creampies, (lots of) double penetration, fashion, filming, fiinger-fucking, genital piercing, group sex, italian stallions, (lots of) leg-shaking orgasms, mating press, rimjob, standing DP, spit-roasting, squirting, upside-down 69

Word count: 5597

Milan, Italy

"My first time at the men's show." Sana uploads a set of pictures to her 12 million followers on Instagram about her latest fashion event for Prada at the Milan Fashion Week. She's the center of attention, with every guy in the room seeking to get some time with her. But she already has a group of friends in her sight.

"Hi, I'm Sana," she tells you. "My name is Antonio," you say. "These are my friends Domenico, Federico, and Marco," you continue. Sana smiles as the guys flirt with her and kiss her cheeks. "You're very cute," you tell her. Sana enjoys the attention as you guys grab some drinks. Until you decide to invite her.

"Wanna go home with us?" you ask Sana. She hesitates a bit but eventually accepts your invitation as you guys take a limo to your apartment. "This is going to be a great night," you say.

Before even getting there, you guys are already showing your intentions. You lift Sana's dress with her still in the car; she loves it and starts bouncing her ass on the seat. Hopefully a preview for later at night? You run your hands all over her cute butt, entertaining the Japanese princess as she smiles to the guys. Quickly, you guys take further steps, pulling her top of her dress down and getting Sana half-naked in the limo already while sucking her nipples.

You guys dress Sana back as the limo arrives at your apartment. But that obviously isn't going to last long. Already inside the apartment, more kissing ensues, with Federico taking the lead. "Let's go straight to the point," you say. Marco and Federico understand the assignment, pulling Sana's panties down while she kisses you. Domenico is the first to get a taste of Sana's tight pink asshole, licking it as soon as it gets in his sight.

Sana smiles as you kiss her and take her expensive Prada dress off like it's nothing. "Two minutes in, and you are already fully naked," you tell her. The men start groping Sana's nude body, Federico going for her nipples. "Sexy little Japanese slut," you say to her as you take your clothes off, making Sana smile.

Federico lifts Sana's body up in the air with ease, putting her bare pussy right at his head. Sana giggles as she senses the fun is about to begin. The first moans come out of her mouth as Federico licks her folds and holds her body up high, his hands right on her tits, and then slowly drops Sana in your direction, placing her upside down. Your hard cock is fully ready, as Sana lines it up into her mouth to taste it.

"Oh yeah," you say as Sana starts bobbing her head on your pole. Despite facing the floor, she has no problem locating your cock, already well-accommodated to those situations. Up top, Federico holds Sana by her ass and eats her pussy. You're impressed at how well Sana can suck a cock even upside down, taking it deep in her throat with ease.

The other guys also want a piece of her, as you let Sana dive into Marco's cock while keeping her lifted upside down, now taking on the role of licking her pink pussy. Sana gives Marco's dick a few suckings and jerkoffs, moaning as you stimulate her pussy and starts pushing your fingers up it. Federico kneels down and kisses Sana to muffle her moans as your fingers put an extra head in her pussy.

Sana takes turns sucking the guys cocks upside down. She goes from Marco to Domenico, then to Federeico, back to Domenico while jerking your cock. "Good girl," you say when she does it. Now everybody is having fun, as Sana jerks you and Marco, sucks Domenico, and Federico eats her out. "Give her to me," you order, eating her pussy once again as she jerks your cock.

You start bouncing Sana's head straight into Domenico's shaft, laughing as she gets stuffed with your friend's big cock. After a few more sucking and jerking for all guys, you finally put Sana back in her feet, her hair already messy as she gets encircled by the four guys, happily getting on her knees to suck more cock.

Sana rotates in a clockwise direction, sucking Federico's cock first, then Domenico's, Marco's, and yours, greeting you with a deepthroating. "Look at those beautiful eyes while she sucks all those cocks," you say as Sana keeps rotating, making sure to leave all guys fully pleased. She deepthroats Marco, who gropes her tits in response, before turning her attention back to you, the leader of the whole gang, and delivering the longest cock-sucking session of the night so far.

"Naugthy girl," you say as Sana keeps savoring all those cocks like the good slut the is, giving your friends sexy stares while sucking them off. Federico lies in the ample bed that had yet to be used, and Sana shows him how nasty she can be as well, eating his ass as soon as he does it.

"Bad, bad girl," you tell as Sana tongues deep into Federico's asshole. You feel a little jealous for not being the first, as you decide it's your turn. "Come here, come here," you tell Sana, leading her towards your cock as you rest your body on the bed.

But before Sana can even reach your ass, Domenico seizes the opportunity. Seeing this little Japanese slut on her knees was too hard for him to resist. In a split second, he becomes the first guy to insert his cock in Sana's wonderfully tight pussy. Sana goes deeper in your cock to muffle the moans. Domenico starts at a slow pace while Marco runs his hands all over her body. "Are you ready?" you ask her, opening your asshole for Sana's naughty tongue. "Yes," Sana answers quickly, taking it in her mouth.

Domenico picks up the pace, pushing Sana closer to your butthole as she rims it, working her tongue perfectly. "That's my girl," you praise her rimming skills, as Sana stays focused even with Domenico stuffing her from behind. "Oh yes," she moans as the action keeps going until she licks your asshole clean. But Sana is always looking for more cock, taking yours back in her mouth as Domenico continues to stretch her tight pussy out, getting spit-roasted the way she likes the most.

Marco and Federico repeat the spit-roasting, with Sana taking the former's cock in her cunt and eating the latter's asshole before taking his cock in her mouth as well. You watch up close, spreading Sana's cheeks to help Marco, who was sturggling to get even half his length in her pussy given how tight she is. "Go on, buddy," you tell him as Sana's vaginal muscles ease just enough to get his cock fully inside her.

"Look at that slut; she really wants all that cock," you say as Sana adds Domenico to the mix and starts jerking his cock off. You tease her, running your fingers around her winking butthole, then stuffing your middle finger in her anus. Federico now slaps his cock in her face, making her giggle, before she rewards him with yet another perfect deepthroat, leading him to romantically kiss Sana afterwards.

Federico moves his body to the bed and brings Sana with him. Domenico gives the Japanese girl's ass a little tap. You push Sana towards Federico's cock as she sits on it while Marco and Domenico and you take turns stuffing her mouth. Federico gets to know firsthand the insanity of Sana's cock-riding, as she never stops moving her hips, even getting stuffed full of cock from all sides.

"OH YES YES YES YES," Sana moans as she bounces on Federico's cock. The other guys now spread themselves around, with Marco taking her mouth, Domenico massaging her pink butthole, and you getting jerked off. But shortly after, you guys leave Federico all by himself to endure the craziness of Sana on his own.

"Ride his dick," you say from afar as Sana increases her speed. Fast and hard, Sana's hips clap nonstop against Federico's balls. "Now that's what I call some good fucking; keep working on it, little slut," Federico tells Sana, who manages to go even faster. He gets close—only a few minutes of Sana bouncing on his dick, and her already wants to fiil her to the brim. But luckily for Federico, a last-second intervention prevents him from cumming so early into the night.

"Come here, baby," you say, pushing Sana out of Federico's grasp. "Uhhhhh," he screams in enjoyment but also in relief. As soon as Sana tries to climb out of bed, you grab her body up. "Let's go, Antonio, you naughty boy," Domenico tells you as you line up your cock into Sana's pussy, the Japanese girl already kissing you in anticipation. Using the table in your bedroom as a support, Sana slides in and starts riding your cock now, clinging to you and giving you multiple kisses while doing so.

"Yesss, work on it," you tell her. The shaky table isn't enough to deter Sana's eagerness to bounce on a cock, as she executes it flawlessly. The room is all smiles as the guys watch Sana ride you with her eyes closed, letting out multiple sexy moans. The night is still young, but you guys already can tell she is truly special.

You get Sana back on her feet as she quickly bends over for Marco to take his turn. Federico adds an extra heat, getting her pussy wetter using his hands, before sitting on the table for Sana to suck his cock. "WOW, LUCK AT THAT!" you scream as Sana bounces on Marco's dick before he can even settle himself inside her. After a few moves, he takes control, grabbing Sana by the waist and stretching her tight pussy out.

"Fuck my pussy, yes, yes, yes," Sana moans as Marco picks up the pace, creaming herself as the fourth and final Italian stallion gets inside her. "Tell him again," you ask Sana. "FUCK MY PUSSY, AHHHH," she says as Marco attacks it in full force, Sana barely clinging to the bed and to Federico's mouth as she gets used like a little fucktoy.

Federico lies on the table and offers his asshole again for Sana. "Looks like she needs something extra," he says. Sana closes his eyes and rims him as you, Marco, and Domenico start taking turns fucking her pussy from behind, the next guy going harder than the previous one every single time. Federico picks up his phone, capturing Sana savoring his butthole while the other guys attack her pussy nonstop.

Sana's legs start shaking for the first time as Domenico finishes another round of pounding her pussy. You are next in line to take her pussy, sliding with ease into her throbbing fuckhole. "Look at this slut making all these boys happy," you tell her. "You looking so beautiful eating his ass," you continue.

More leg shaking comes from Sana as she starts losing her mind. Turned into a cocksleeve, getting fucked like a pornstar from some Rocco Siffredi gangbang fickle, she looks at Federico's phone camera and lets him capture her first orgasm of the night, going numb with your cock fully stuffed in her pussy and her mouth fully stuffed in Federico's asshole.

Sana doesn't even have time to squirt out her juices into the floor as Marco lies on the chair to the side of the bed and pushes her to ride his dick. Domenico quickly offers his cock for her to suck. But you have even bigger plans.

"Oh yessss, come here and fuck my ass." Sana already knows what you're going to do the moment you spread her legs. You tease her by running your hands around her anus as she rides Marco, sucks Domenico, and jerks Federico off. You push the chair a little, trying to find the perfect angle to penetrate her little asshole. "Make it happen, buddy; give her another cock; she wants it so bad; put it in her ass; she'll enjoy it," Federico says. You struggle to even get your tip inside her ass, quickly finding out how extremely tight it is.

After a few tries and a little help from Domenico, you finally slide your cock in Sana's tiny asshole. "OH YES! OH YES! OH YES!" Sana says it repeatedly as soon as you get inside it. "That's a dream come true," Federico says as Sana sucks his cock and goes airtight as soon as she gets double penetrated. He slaps his cock on her face and asks her, "Ready to be a good slut for us and get stuffed in all your holes?" "Always," she replies.

Although you and Marco start fucking Sana slowly, that quickly goes out of window. It doesn't take long for you guys to notice she's well-versed in the art of DP. "Yes fuck me, yes fuck me, AHHHHH," Sana starts moaning. The more you guys hit her holes, the more she begs for it. Her cheeks jiggle as you fuck her deep in the ass, Marco providing the perfect anchoring as he grabs her by the waist.

Sana clings to Domenico's cock as you attack her ass hard. "AH FUCK, YOU'RE SO DEEP," she screams. Soon, you give the other guys a chance, as Federico steps in to fuck her ass now. Marco pushes Sana's slim body against his cock down low, working in perfect sync. Just like you, Federico initially struggles to get his big stallion in Sana's ass, but as soon as he does, he fucks it relentlessly.

You pick up your phone and start photographing your three friends going airtight on Sana, her face and body turning red as their trio of cocks don't give her a single second of rest. Federico soon follows suit and wants some bragging rights for himself, taking a picture of Sana's bottom while being stuffed by his cock and Marco's. "Let's send this to our friends at Prada," he says.

"Ahhh, it's so good," Sana moans as Federico points his phone at her face. "Show me the big slut you are," he tells her. Sana smiles to the camera as he takes a picture of her while she moans, before going back to film the little Japanese slut getting double-penetrated nonstop. "Take this cock deep in your ass," Federico demands, stretching Sana's tiny butthole to the fullest. "Fuck my ass, yes," she begs, and Federico answers immediately, while Marco does his thing and thrusts up her pussy.

"Shit is so good," Federico says, amazed at how tight Sana still is after such a rough assfucking. He kept going, shaping her ring to his cock. "Stretch that ass, bro," you tell his as Sana sucks your cock and keeps going airtight. Marco spreads her cheeks, letting Federico take Sana to the maximum.

Sana can't even take a second of relief as Domenico gets his cock in her ass as soon as Federico pulls out. "Having fun with my buddies?" you ask her. "Yes, yes, yes," she says with her moaning voice. Domenico picks up right where Federico left off, while she tastes her asshole taking turns between your cock and Federico's.

"UH YES YES YES YES YES," Sana moans as Domenico pounds her butthole like crazy. Marco decides to grope her tits, and as soon as he does, he unlocks another orgasm for the little Japanese slut. The guys all pull out of her and just enjoy watching a mindbroken Sana shaking in front of them, jerking their cocks as she cums and coats Marco's crotch with her juices.

"Move down," you tell Sana, ready for a second round in her ass, this time mounting on top of her. Her rectum is already prolapsing as you guys stretched it so hard you can see some skin popping out of her butthole entrance. But you guys are just beginning.

You stuff Sana's butt balls deep from the start, your balls slapping against her stretched-out cunt and Marco's shaft down under. "Fuck, it's so good," Sana says as you fuck her in a way that tears her butthole apart to the fullest. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," she repeats every time your full length impales her anus as Sana gets fucked like an animal, her tiny butthole slowly turning into a massive gaping hole with the work of your Italian stallion inside it.

"Turn around," Domenico asks Sana, who obliges. He doesn't want to be left out of the party and happily enjoys when Sana sits her stretched out asshole on his prick. She looks at you and gives you a naughty stare as she descends down his cock. Her moans and facial expressions are enough for you to understand what she wants.

"Sit, sit in that cock," the guys say as Sana impales herself with Marco's bull. Domenico gives her pussy a little tap as she lies her body on top of Marco's again. You're right there, ready to stuff her tight pussy. "Oh yeah, ahhhh," Sana moans as you enter inside her warm hole once again. She knows you can do to her pussy what you just did to her ass.

You quickly deliver, pounding Sana's pussy nonstop and making her moan to your face. The other guys also use her body for their entertainment, Domenico and Federico rubbing his cocks in the junction of Sana's legs while Marco runs his hands on her thighs and pinches her nipples, all that while enjoying his cock stuffed deep in Sana's asshole.

Sana quickly starts to shake again, leading to a loud reaction from the boys. "Shake it for me, baby. Keep shaking," they say. Sensing Sana is on the edge, they run their hands all over her body. You and Marco push your cocks hard up Sana's fuckholes. "Please fucking destroy me; make me cum," she begs. You let Federico take his turn as Sana once again starts losing her mind. 

Federico takes his turn next, woshipping Sana's perfect pussy and licking her clit like a needy dog before going in. "That pussy tastes so good, wet girl pussy," he tells her. Sana gets even more sensitive with his tongue in her folds. Once he gets in, she soon starts pleading to God. Marco gropes her tits from behind while she sucks Domenico.

"Make me cum, please, I beg, fuck me until I cum," Sana says. You quickly offer a helping hand, massaging her clit while Federico and Marco keep stretching her out. But it turns out, all you needed was to hit one exact magical spot in her pussy to unleash another orgasm for Sana.

You tap Sana's clit right at her genital piercing. As soon as this happens, her legs start trembling. "Is this a Japanese earthquake?" you ask. "AHHHHHHHHHHH, YESSSSSSS," Sana screams, her chest turning head as you tap at that spot multiple times. Federico increases the pace, enjoying as her pussy walls close all over his cock. Sana rolls her eyes and clings to any cock she finds on her sight. 

"Attack that pussy," you tell Federico, who keeps pushing into Sana's increasingly wet cunt, with Domenico now tapping her genital piercing. At each thurst from Federico, louder, wet noises come out of Sana's pussy, until a tsunami of squirt comes out of it and expels his cock out.

"Bring that pussy to me," Federico says as soon as Sana squirts. Marco lifts Sana's body in his direction, and the horny guy licks her folds, getting showered with more geysers of squirt right on his face, enjoying every single one of them. Not satisfied with only her pussy, Federico also licks Sana's asshole, adding to her pleasure with some great tongue stimulation in her anus.

Marco keeps Sana's body lifted in the air, and the guys start a new round. Domenico is the first to take on her pussy. "Fuck her hard," Marco tells him as Sana receives a mating press pounding while in a fetal position. Marco grabbing the little Japanese slut by her ass gives Domenico the room to be as rough as possible, pounding Sana's pink pussy vigorously, his balls clapping against her butthole, and stopping once he makes her legs shake, kissing her pussy afterwards.

"Get in there, bro," Marco tells you. But instead of stuffing your cock again inside Sana, you decide to try a different body part, shoving your fingers inside her cunt to make her squirt further. "OHHHHHHH, FUCKKKKKKK," Sana moans as soon as you get them there. "MAKE IT RAIN, BABY! MAKE IT RAIN!" the other guys start chanting as Sana turns into a moaning mess with your fingers attacking her pussy.

After you made her squirt, you put Sana's legs behind over her head and manhandled her pussy, enjoying her rolling eyes and your cock bulging under her belly. "OH MY GOD, FUCK THAT PUSSY YES YES YES." Sana screams as the guys cheer watching you destroy her until you gave her yet another leg-shaking orgasm.

Sana can barely recover, and Federico is already pushing her back into the bed, tossing her body into it as she giggles. "Come on, baby, sit on this dick," Federico tells her. Sana happily follows, just like in the first time she was in that bed. "OH, YES, YES, YES, YES," Sana repeatedly moans as she rides his cock while sucking Domenico's. But unlike the first time, his cock won't be the only one getting inside her.

The double stuffing of Sana shortly resumes as you shove your cock back into her prolapsed ass. Now, all cocks are getting her attention. Federico in her pussy, you in her ass, Domenico in her mouth, Marco in her hand. "Let's get it," Federico says, grabbing Sana by the waist and pushing her down, your cock and his now pumping Sana like two pistons in perfect sync, not letting her go a second without a cock fully stuffed in one of her fuckholes.

"That's it, keep going," you say as Sana goes full airtight, getting both Domenico and Marco in her mouth while you choke her. She just holds her breath and lets herself turn into the ultimate cocksleeve, getting fucked at the rawest way possible, but still finding a way to bob her head and suck two monster cocks at the same time with another two fucking her holes nonstop.

"OH FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME," Sana begs for more. You guys promptly give her what she wants, taking her even harder as the sex goes on. The elegant Prada girl from the show early in the afternoon has turned into a cock-crazed nympho that wants to have sex until she dies. Heck, if Sana collapsed right now on that bed, she would die in the happiest possible way, stuffed full of cock from all sides.

"Let me get in there," Marco asks as you move away to let him fuck her ass. "Damn, that's tight; it seems like the more we fuck that ass, the tighter it gets," he says. Federico wraps his arms around Sana's waist, and you decide to watch her go airtight once again with your friends, spreading her ass to let Marco go deeper inside it.

"I'm gonna stretch that ass," Marco says as she hammers his cock hard into Sana's pink butthole. She deepthroats Domenico to cope with the heat Marco puts in her anus, fucking her as hard as he can.

But the guys are far from done turning Sana into their fuckdoll. As soon as Marco pulls out, they slap her thighs. Sana reaches into her already sore asshole, barely able to stand. But there is still a long way to go. The guys put Sana's butt pointed to the moon and started another round of hard anal sex. Domenico goes first. Sana has to quickly close her legs as her asshole gets obliterated nonstop.

You always like to get things spicier when it's your turn, getting Sana on all fours as you top her like a bull, your cock penetrating her butthole at a straight angle. In that position, Sana's protounding pussy is too hard to resist, as the other guys take turns stuffing it while you fuck her ass with all your might, starting another round of double penetration, the roughest one yet, as all guys are in prime position to attack Sana's tight holes freely.

"OH YES YES YES YES," Sana quickly gets airtight again as the guys rotate all over her holes. Marco goes in and gives her a cheek-clapping pounding of her pussy while you poke her anus. Once he makes her legs shake, you go back to double-stuffing Sana alongside Federico, fucking her even harder as she licks Marco's cock to taste her juices. Sana begs for God as you two pound her relentlessly, your cock stuck balls deep in her asshole.

"Yes, so good," Sana moans as you now take her all by yourself. Her gaping sore ass is already completely stretched, but you just can't seem to stop. Domenico films as Sana shares his cock and Marco's deep in her mouth while you massage her shoulders and fuck her ass. You step aside and let Domenico fuck her ass now, with Federico back in her pussy, filming their cocks pounding Sana's little fuckholes as she moans and gets close to another orgasm.

"Shit is so good, man," you say as you now focus the camera on Sana's face. Domenico pins her body against the bedsheets with fast and hard thrusts in her ass that make Sana quiver. "Turn around," Marco tells her, ready to be the anchor guy once again. Sana smiles as he puts his cock in her ass, and you open her legs to take her pussy once more. Her moans get muted by Federico's cock in her mouth as you two fuck her like two animals, begging her to shake her legs again. 

It doesn't take long for Sana to start shaking again, leading you to fuck her even harder. You let Federico finish the job as he destroys her little Japanese pussyballs deep, grabbing her thighs while you finger her clit at the usual spot around her genital piercing. Domenico joins in, massaging the entrance of her vagina while you sit on top of her head for Sana to eat your asshole.

Sana looks at Federico with sexy eyes, ready for another orgasm. Marco pinches her very sensitive nipples, getting Sana even closer. When Federico pulls out, Marco starts thursting up hard against Sana's butt, making her scream loud. You're ready to deliver and make her cum again, but this time, you put your fingers up her cunt until she squirts.

But Sana needs your cock inside her; she begs for it. And she's only gonna cum when you get it back in her pussy. Which you do. "Look at this cock-hungry whore sucking it like a lollipop," you say as Federico slaps his cock in Sana's face and then takes it in and out of her mouth, and both have a lot of fun with it. 

Sana's legs finally start shaking again; she starts losing her voice as you fuck her pussy hard and deep. "Shake them off," Federico laughs as Sana's whole body quakes in another orgasm. Domenico pinches her nipples as she cums, and you clap your balls hard against her cunt, leading to more shaking.

Sana is completely out of breath, but the guys still want more even after 45 minutes of hard, filthy, and raw sex. Federico gets on his feet on the bed and lifts Sana up. "Put it back inside, bro," he tells you as he takes your cock in her pussy. You look at Sana getting carry-fucked with Federico's massive cock, letting her enjoy the one-on-one pounding at first, before putting your cock back in her ass for a standing DP.

"Oh yeah, baby, that's it, that's it," Federico says as Sana gets double-stuffed while carried in the air. "Look at her, getting carried by those big cocks in her tiny holes," he continues. Domenico slides down under and captures your cocks pounding Sana into oblivion. Federico is more passionate with her tight pussy; meanwhile, you're relentlessly fucking her gaping butthole, your balls attacking so hard they keep bumping on his cock.

Sana can't resist for long and gets back on the bed, already on her knees to suck more cock. Domenico films her body as she tastes her own holes from your cock and Federico's, with Marco soon joining in for more cock sucking. 

You bring Sana to the side of the bed and give her pussy another round of finger-fucking. "Suck that dick," Marco commands as Sana muffles her moans on Federico's cock and he joins you, getting her double stuffed with a pair of hands in her cunt. Sana squirts all over the bedsheets, the wetness of her pussy clearly audible from the watery sounds that come out of it every time you two stick your fingers deep inside it.

You put your hand in Sana's mouth for her to taste her juices once more. She looks at you with her classic sexy stare, indicating she still's got more to give. You kiss her and put her on all fours in the bed, sticking your cock back in her butthole. "Oh yeah, fuck my ass," she says.

After nearly 50 minutes have passed, Sana is completely numb. It's a miracle her asshole hasn't completely collapsed after so much hard fucking you guys have given her. But Sana is a professional slut. Opening her backdoor has given her countless opportunities, so she'll always be ready for a cock to knock, knock, knock on her door.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck my ass," Sana repeats as you keep pounding her backdoor while she licks Marco's cock. Domenico follows up after you pull out. "Guess what it is?" he asks. But Sana is too busy choking on Marco's dick to answer. Domenico quickly lets her know, giving her a rough pounding while running his hands all over her ass while Sana begs for more. 

Federico spreads Sana's butt for you to enter again. You fuck her way harder than the last time, ready to break this little Japanese slut. Her once tight butthole now has completely prolapsed, and you make sure to stretch it out even further. Marco is the next to take her ass, giving Sana the roughest pounding until her legs shake again. Federico quickly grabs her and puts Sana back in a fetal position, licking both her pussy and ass with his naughty tongue. Sana smiles, feeling in heaven as he stimulates her throbbing folds, before taking his cock in her ass in missionary.

As Federico takes his turn in her ass, he enjoys his large cock bukging under Sana's slim belly. Marco follows him after, and Sana starts having yet another leg-shaking orgasm. Domenico takes his turn as the guys get committed to one final round of anal destruction for little Sana, poking her belly right where his cock lands, with more shaking following. "Let her shake, let her shake," the other guys tell him, who answers with a hard pounding that does exactly that to Sana.

"Get her, boy," the other guys tell you. It's your final turn to make Sana your fucktoy. Eager to finish on a high note, you quickly stuff your cock in her sore ass for one final time. Surrounding her, the other guys jerk their cocks off in anticipation. "Put your head up," you ask Sana, locking her legs behind it and putting her in a fetal position, giving her a prime view of your cock fucking her asshole.

Sana gets manhandled, her legs quaking more than ever, and the guys shake their cocks ready to give her the cum she needs. Sana opens her mouth as the guys, one by one, start busting their nuts in her face. You now have switched to her pussy, as each guy has so much to give they cum twice in her mouth, with Sana opening it wide and sticking her tongue out, happy that she's getting well-fed by all those Italian cocks. "You want all that cum, little bitch?" Domenico asks her. "YESSSSS," she quickly answers.

As Sana's legs tremble for one last time and she receives the sixth and final load in her face from a happy Federico, kissing the tip of his cock, you unload inside her pussy. But even after that, you keep fucking her, switching to her destroyed butthole and giving it the cum it deserves after taking so many hard poundings.

"Good girl got well-fed," you say to Sana. The smell of cum and other body fluids now impregnates the whole room. Sana turned into a Snow White princess, with all her holes filled and her face full of loads, as if she had poured some white facial cream on it. After a long hour of filthy sex, you guys are finally done and have fully drained your balls into Prada's slutty princess.

Wait. Have you?

"We should hit the shower, man," Federico says. As soon as he speaks, Marco lifts Sana, carrying her into it. "Oh yeah!" she says, very excited. "Let's go," Marco says, as the convoy follows him.

It looks like more sex is on the way. And who can blame them with a girl as hot as Sana?

[punkshort]

A Christmas Miracle

Thank you anon for this prompt!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Years of tension after a failed hook-up attempt with Joel boil over at your office Christmas party, but not in the way you expect.

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, enemies to lovers, smut (18+ MDNI), hate sex that turns soft in the end because it's shortie writing this, fingering, unprotected piv sex, semi-public sex

WC: 4.6K

"Goddamnit, why did he show up? He hates shit like this," you grumbled to your friend, Tina, when the elevators slid open to reveal the latest batch of co-workers trickling inside the hotel ballroom your company rented out for their annual Christmas party.

Tina glanced over her shoulder, scanning the crowd of well dressed men and women before her eyes landed on the one in question.

"Who, Joel?" she smirked, turning back to you.

"Yes, Joel," you seethed. You bellied up to the bar to flag down the cute bartender for another martini. If you had to listen to Joel share horrible stories about his latest conquests, sales or otherwise, then you had to make sure you had a decent amount of alcohol in your system first.

"Oh, come off it. Why don't you just fuck him already and get it over with?" Tina joked. You gasped in disgust and covered your mouth.

"Do not even joke about that. Who knows what kind of diseases that sleaze-bag is carrying around."

Tina tossed her head back and laughed, the sound dancing in the air like music. She was one of the prettiest women in your office, but much to everyone's chagrin, she was recently married and officially off the market. But that didn't stop the men in your office from harmlessly flirting with her now and again for the ego boost.

"Nah, he's all talk," Tina said with a wave of her hand.

"Not true - Lainey in the mailroom slept with him two years ago, remember that fiasco?" you shot back instantly before taking a grateful sip from your glass. Tina raised a suspicious eyebrow at you and propped one hand on her hip.

"You're keeping track?"

"No," you replied defensively. You rolled a shoulder and shifted your weight before taking another sip. "I just remember her crying over it every chance she got. Couldn't eat lunch in peace for weeks."

"Uh huh, sure," Tina said, rolling her eyes. She scanned the room again, hips lightly swaying to the music while you sat next to her, determined to have a miserable night. "Didn't you guys kiss once, though?"

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut. "Don't remind me. Worst mistake of my life. Thank god I didn't fall for his shit and go home with him."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because believe it or not, I had standards," you clipped. "I didn't want to sleep with him after a sloppy office happy hour. I wasn't dumb enough to put out the first time we kissed."

"Alright, so if you were into him enough to kiss him and potentially see him again, what the hell happened?" Tina pressed. You sighed and let your chin rest in your propped up hand. Tina hadn't worked at your company as long as you and sometimes it was easy to forget she didn't know the full history.

"He took someone else home from the office that night, instead," you muttered under your breath. Tina whistled and shook her head.

"Damn. Alright, dick move, you win."

"Told you. Ever since then, I can't stand being in the same room with him. He's such a smug douchebag, always trying to push my buttons and piss me off just for the fun of it. Like the whole thing was a game to him."

"But it wasn't a game to you," Tina said, slowly connecting the dots. You nodded sadly and took a long sip from your glass.

"Nope."

Tina's expression softened when she saw the look on your face. "I'm sorry. I had no idea-"

"It's fine," you said, cutting her off. "I'm better off. It didn't mean anything, anyway. It was just one kiss," you chuckled, trying to play off the hurt you still harbored somewhere deep down.

"But still-"

"Evenin', ladies," a familiar drawl came from somewhere behind Tina. You didn't need to look. You knew who it was.

"Oh," Tina said when she swiveled around and saw Joel standing against the bar. "Hey, Joel."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and adjusted his tacky red tie.

"Apologies. My reputation seems to have preceded me," he said, glancing once in your direction before giving her a dazzling smile and stretching out his hand. "What's your name, gorgeous?"

"Tina, and give it a rest, I'm married," she said, holding up her left hand with her massive diamond while shaking his hand with her right.

"That's a damn shame," Joel said with a flirty smile. You rolled your eyes and tossed back the rest of your drink but it didn't matter. You were essentially invisible. "He must be one lucky fella. He treatin' you right?"

"Fantastic," Tina replied, pulling her hand out from his grip before turning to you. "I need to use the restroom," she murmured. You stood to follow her but Joel stopped you.

"How 'bout you? You seein' anyone special?"

You huffed and shook your head. "Kiss my ass."

Joel howled with laughter before sliding onto the stool Tina vacated.

"If I recall, few years back I was willin' to do that and more, but you shot me down."

"Yeah, thank Christ for that moment of clarity," you grumbled. You swept your eyes around the room, pretending to lose interest in the man sitting beside you, but unfortunately you couldn't bring yourself to get up and just fucking leave.

Joel held up two fingers, signaling for the bartender in a frustratingly effortless way that set your teeth on edge and had your thighs pressing together.

"Whiskey, neat. And-"

Joel turned to you, waiting for your drink order, but you shook your head.

"I'm good."

"Shot of tequila," Joel told the bartender with an award winning smile.

You glared at Joel as the bartender walked away.

"Tequila? Really?"

Joel chuckled and swiveled in his stool to face you. "You thought I forgot what loosened you up that night?"

"You're a pig," you snapped, and you should have grabbed your purse and left, but your feet refused to move. "You're a pompous asshole who doesn't give a damn about anybody's feelings so long as you're getting your dick wet. I can't fucking stand hearing you walk around the office gloating like you're hot shit. Tell me, Joel," you said, leaning forward now that you were on a roll. "When you go home to your empty apartment at night, who listens to your bullshit? Hm? The fucking plants?"

Joel didn't say a word but you could tell by the look on his face that he was taken aback. For once you had the upper hand, and you weren't going to let it go.

"Enjoy this schtick while it lasts because one day you're gonna wake up and it'll be a thing of the past. One day, they'll hire a new Joel. Someone younger and hotter and probably nicer than you and suddenly you'll be all alone wondering where the fucking time went."

"You got a real mouth on you, huh?" he shot back. "Think you know a goddamn thing 'bout me? You got no fuckin' clue, sweetheart. But maybe if you gave me half a chance all them years ago, you'd know a thing or two."

You laughed, voice dripping with sarcasm as the bartender placed his whiskey and tequila in front of him.

"What are you saying? Do you even hear yourself?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. He scowled and took a long sip from his whiskey. "How the hell would I ever have known anything about you, Joel? Can't learn much about a person after a few drunken hours and a half-assed attempt at foreplay because let's face it - that's all you're willing to offer anyone."

As a last second attempt at a power move, you grabbed the tequila and tossed it back with a wince before slamming the glass onto the wooden bar top and grabbing your purse.

"Thanks for the drink. It's been lovely catching up," you sneered, then finally forced yourself to leave his orbit before you lost yourself completely.

You slid through the crowds of people mingling and laughing in the ballroom, eyes darting this way and that as you tried to either find Tina or the nearest exit. When you eyes began to blur with unshed tears and you were about to resign yourself to crying in the middle of your fucking office Christmas party, you felt a strong hand wrap around your bicep.

"C'mon, this way," Joel's deep voice murmured before hauling you in a completely opposite direction.

For some unknown reason, you let him lead you from the packed ballroom towards the stairs. It was quieter, the sound from the Christmas music dulled against the walls, the only people around to hear it were you.

"We need to set some shit straight, once and for all," Joel said when he pulled you into an empty hallway. From the looks of it, it was an area meant for the hotel staff. One door was labeled laundry and the other maintenance. The elevator bank was right there. You could have easily tapped the button and left, but instead you crossed your arms and defiantly scowled up at him.

"Yeah? This should be good," you told him. He growled under his breath and you had to stifle the primal reaction the sound caused between your legs.

"That night... the happy hour. When we... y'know..." he trailed off and you sighed dramatically.

"Yes, Joel. Unfortunately I remember."

"I didn't go home with anyone else," he said. You blinked, unsure if it was the alcohol or if you were truly losing your mind. Did he really just say what you thought he said?

"What?" you whispered.

Joel shrugged. "I didn't. I might've spread that rumor 'cause my feelin's were hurt but I didn't go home with anyone else. I only wanted you."

"Me?" you sputtered.

"Yeah, you," Joel repeated, annoyance lacing his voice. "You'd been drivin' me crazy for fuckin' months. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Ask Harris, he'd tell you. I talked 'bout you non-fuckin'-stop. Then that night, I got 'nough liquid courage in me to make a move and, well..."

He trailed off and ran his fingers through his hair.

"You shot me down. Ruined all the confidence I had 'n left me heartbroken."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," you said. "I didn't want to sleep with you that night and you took that to mean I wasn't interested in you? At all? Did it ever occur to you some women don't sleep with men the very first night they're shown a little attention?"

"Did it ever occur to you I wasn't tryin' to sleep with you that night?" he shot back.

"Oh, please!" you exclaimed with a dry laugh. "'Lemme walk you home, baby,' and, 'my place ain't too far from here'." You snorted and shook your head in disbelief. "Don't try to rewrite history. I was tipsy but I fucking remember."

"I was worried 'bout you!" he practically shouted in despair. "You'd been drinkin' and I wanted to make sure you were safe! Goddamnit, I didn't expect you to freak out 'n fuckin' shove me in front of the whole damn bar!"

The more Joel talked, the more the pieces began to slide into place. Maybe you did misread his intentions that night.

"W-well... y-you still continued to sleep around with the entire office," you stammered, gathering yourself again and shaking off his bombshell. "You had sex with Lainey from the mailroom and god knows who else! You might not have gone home with someone that night, but who cares? It's obvious you were just looking for a quick fuck."

"There's that fuckin' mouth again," he grumbled angrily. "Yeah, alright. Fine! I slept with a few women but Jesus fuckin' Christ, what'd you expect me to do? You clearly had zero goddamn interest in me. I couldn't sit 'round and be miserable forever."

"I never said I had zero interest in you!" you exclaimed before you had a chance to catch yourself. But your admission was out there. It was too late, and Joel's eyes darted up to yours in surprise.

"What's that mean? You... liked me?"

"What is this, high school?" you scoffed, crossing your arms. When he just continued to stare at you, anxiously waiting for you to answer, you sighed and dropped your arms to your sides in defeat. "Yeah, fine. I like you."

"Wait, wait, wait," Joel said excitedly. "Like or liked?"

"Oh, my god!" you cried out before turning on your heel to storm back down the stairs towards the party. "I'm not doing this with you! I'm fucking not-"

In the blink of an eye, Joel snatched your arm and twisted you back around to crash against his chest. You gasped right before his other hand cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a deep kiss.

For one blissful moment, you let yourself forget it all. You forgot all the anguish you felt when you heard about Joel's latest conquests. You forgot about the way it felt watching him breeze around the office without a care in the world, completely oblivious to the way he hurt you. And you definitely forgot about the way you turned down a perfectly good date just two weeks prior because he wasn't what you were searching for and you fucking knew why.

"I'm not some cheap, quick fuck," you panted when you pulled away for air. Joel had managed to turn you so your back bumped up against the wall. Your eyes slid shut and a soft moan escaped from your lips when he began to drag his mouth down the column of your throat.

"We can go fast or slow, whatever you want," he mumbled into your skin. Your hand connected blindly with his shoulder and gave him a forceful shove, making him chuckle. "I know what you meant. I don't want that, either," he said before straightening up so he could look at you. "I don't want this to be a one time thing. Never did. That's what I've been tryin' to say."

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to come up with a response. The way things had changed so quickly left you scrambling to keep up, and although you couldn't deny the reaction your body was having to Joel crowding you aggressively against the wall, your mind couldn't give in as easily.

"I can't stand you," you growled before pulling him back down to your level. Your mouth crashed hungrily against his, chasing the taste of peppermint and whiskey on his tongue. You were so lost in the feeling of his surprisingly soft lips pressed against yours that you hardly noticed when his hand skated down your side. With a muffled yelp, he yanked you off your feet, using his broad body to pin you against the wall while his hand began to travel up the skirt of your dress. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him with your legs curled around his waist so you didn't fall.

"Fuck," Joel groaned when his fingers brushed against where your underwear should have been had you not chosen to forgo them for the evening. You smirked against his mouth and grabbed roughly at his hair.

"Didn't want panty lines," you breathlessly explained.

"Yeah, can't have that," he murmured right before plunging his tongue back inside your mouth. At the same, his thumb grazed over the slit of your cunt, pulling a moan from you both.

"You like yellin' at me, huh? That why you're already this wet, baby?" he purred, nipping at your earlobe while his middle finger teasingly probed at your entrance. You dropped your head back against the wall with a thud, hips chasing his hand, eager for more.

"Shut up," you whispered, then gasped when he finally slid one long, thick finger inside you. Joel chuckled against your neck, curling his finger inside your tight heat every time he dove back in. Your chin was tilted towards the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as he slid a second finger inside with ease. You were vaguely aware of your compromising position, knowing full well anybody could turn the corner or exit one of the rooms at any moment, but neither of you cared.

"Ohmygod, fuck! Keep going," you begged, rolling your hips as best you could with your legs wrapped around his waist. The palm of his hand began to slap steadily against your clit each time he thrusted his fingers into you, driving you to the edge embarrassingly quickly.

"How 'bout you talk a little sweeter to me if you want it so bad?" Joel countered, yet his hand never stopped between your legs. He pulled away from your neck to watch your face contort with pleasure, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, you saw the flush in his cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. You smirked amidst your gasps for air and rolled your hips faster.

"Why? I think you like it when I'm mean to you."

His eyes darkened a shade and his hand began to move faster, fingers curling and brushing against a spot inside you that stole your breath. His free hand was pressed against the wall next to your head for leverage, but his fingertips curled with the desire to grab you fucking anywhere.

"Least lemme hear you say my name when you come," he said through clenched teeth. And that defiant streak inside of you really didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but his skilled fingers were making short work of your resolve.

Joel got what he wanted. A few quick snaps of his hand had you loudly coming undone with his name on your lips. He laughed before shushing you and pressing his mouth tenderly against your own to keep you quiet while slowing the rhythm of his hand between your legs.

For a few minutes, you each forgot where you were and all the bullshit you were arguing about moments before. Joel kissed you so softly through your high that it had you melting against him. Your fingers were no longer tugging at his hair. Instead, you found yourself gently raking them through his dark brown curls almost affectionately while your tongues slowly danced together.

You gasped when he carefully pulled out his hand, breaking the kiss. With glassy eyes and swollen lips, you stared at one another while trying to catch your breath. It was almost too soft, especially with the way his eyes searched your face, desperately trying to figure out where things stood after what you just did. He was so fucking hard that his stomach hurt, but he couldn't tell if you wanted to take things further or if you were having regrets.

"So that's all it takes to shut you up?" he finally teased when the silence had gone on too long for his liking. You huffed and rolled your eyes before tightening your legs around his waist, tugging him closer. Joel smirked when his hips collided with yours and you felt the massive erection he had been fighting with for the past fifteen minutes.

"Hmm, no I don't think so," you breathed while allowing a hand to fall between your bodies. Your fingers brushed against the outline of his cock straining against his black dress pants and you grinned. "But maybe this will."

"Thank fuck," he groaned in relief. His breath instantly grew more shallow at the mere prospect of feeling you wrapped around his cock, but when you nimbly undid his pants and pulled out his throbbing length, his chest was practically heaving with anticipation.

"Easy," you murmured when he leaned forward, sinking his teeth into a sensitive spot on your neck. You relished in the way you managed to make him so weak with just a few strokes of his cock. His entire body had pushed forward, chasing your hand. You felt short of breath from the pressure of his body pinning you against the wall but you didn't make him move. You liked the feeling of his broad frame caging you in far too much to make him stop.

You lined him up with your entrance and pulled your hand away, but just as he began to press forward, a squeaky door opening and closing around the corner from your hallway made you both freeze.

"Shit," you whispered. Joel locked eyes with you and quickly shook his head, signaling for you to be quiet. Both your shoulders were rising and falling fast but your mouths remained clamped shut so your heavy breathing couldn't be heard by whoever was walking down the tile floor with high heels. You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your face when the footsteps sounded moments away from turning the corner, then by some miracle they stopped in their tracks.

"Oh dear, I forgot my phone," a woman's voice said softly to herself. You both began to relax when the footsteps turned in the opposite direction and finally disappeared all together.

"Jesus Christ," Joel laughed shakily. You smirked and wiggled your hips, impaling yourself further on his cock.

"Better hurry up," you told him with an arched brow after his eyes locked with yours in surprise. Then a slow smile stretched across his face, positively gleeful that almost getting caught didn't change your mind. With one swift thrust, he sunk inside you the rest of the way, pleased with the way your jaw silently fell open and your head tipped back against the wall.

"You told me to hurry," he reminded you as he began to move his hips. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you hung on for dear life.

"Fuck... you..." you whispered with your eyes closed and brows knit together. Joel chuckled and nipped your chin.

"Yeah, baby, that's the idea," he grunted, snapping his hips faster. "Fuck, wish we had more time. Feel so fucking good."

"I thought you'd be used to - shit - thought you'd be used to quickies by now."

Joel grabbed your chin and stilled his hips, forcing your eyes open in surprise.

"Knock it off. Told you I don't want that. Not with you."

You were surprised to hear the seriousness to his voice. You fumbled for a moment with how to react before saying, "Guess we'll see about that, won't we?"

"Yeah, you will," Joel replied. He released your chin and began to move again before he added, "I'm a lot of things, a liar ain't one of 'em."

He sounded truthful, but it was difficult to reconcile what he was saying to what you'd been hearing over the past few years. But since time was of the essence, you chose to let it go. After all, how long could it possibly take for someone to grab their phone?

"What? Got nothin' else to say?" Joel chided. You could see the flush creeping up his neck and even a little sweat beading just above his collar. The urge to drag your tongue across his tanned skin was growing impossible to ignore, so instead of answering his question, you decided to lunge forward and do just that. He groaned and began to grind into you, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit fucking perfectly.

You whimpered and buried your face against his neck, doing your best to stifle your sounds as the heat in your belly grew once again.

"Just like that," you gasped into his skin, hands grappling at the back of his neck, trying to draw him closer. "Oh, god, Joel... I'm close," you whined. It was building up too fast after your last orgasm. Your eyes began to water the harder he ground his hips and you bit down harshly on your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out.

"That's it, just let go," he whispered in your ear. The intimacy of it sent a shiver down your spine. "Lemme have it. Say my name again, baby, please... I-I need it," he added, voice strained.

You lifted your chin so your lips could find the shell of his ear, moaning his name without your voice being muffled. What felt like just a second or two later, with your orgasm still rolling through you, Joel stilled and groaned softly into your shoulder, hips stuttering as he came.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he rasped as he pumped the last of his release deep into your cunt.

Panting for air, you slid your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against his. You felt his nose nudge against yours and you smiled before searching for his mouth and brushing your lips tenderly over his own.

"Look at you," Joel whispered against your mouth. "All soft 'n sweet now that you finally got fucked right."

"Do you ever stop talking?" you asked, trying to sound irritated, but the smile tugging at your mouth gave you away.

"You fuckin' love it," Joel said right before his tongue slipped past your lips with a groan.

The door around the corner opened and once again the familiar tap of high heels echoed down the hall. You sprung apart and hissed under your breath after Joel pulled out of you too fast.

"Sorry," he whispered while he tucked himself back into his pants and you adjusted the skirt of your dress.

You had just enough time to run your fingers through your hair and swipe a finger under your lip to catch any smeared lipstick when a woman neither of you recognized turned the corner.

"Oh! Good evening," she said after she slid to a halt. Joel cleared his throat and adjusted his tie before reaching for your hand.

"Evenin'... Dolly," he replied, squinting at her nametag. "My girlfriend's lookin' for the bathroom, could you point us in the right direction?"

"Of course! Sorry to say you've gotten yourself quite turned around. If you just go through those double doors there, you'll find the restrooms up the stairs and to the left."

"Thank you," you called out over your shoulder when Joel tugged you back in the direction of the ballroom. Once you were out of earshot, you dissolved into a fit of giggles, the sound making Joel grin ear to ear.

"Didn't take you for bein' such a naughty thing," he teased before holding the door open for you to step through.

"Yeah, me either," you replied with a little shake of your head. "You must be a bad influence on me."

"Care to join this bad influence for dinner tomorrow night?" he asked when he found his place back at your side. The ballroom was just on the other side of the wall. You could hear clearly now the drunken voices of your co-workers singing Christmas carols off-key.

"What, like a date?"

"Yeah," Joel said, grabbing your arm and spinning you around before you entered the room. "Like a date."

His dark eyes were sparkling as he gazed down at you. You noticed some of your lipstick had transferred under his ear and you grinned before using the pad of your thumb to swipe it away.

"Yeah. Okay. Let's do it."

Joel couldn't resist ducking down to your level for one more kiss, but it wasn't quick enough. To your left you heard a sharp gasp and you pulled apart to find Tina and two other co-workers staring at you like they just saw a ghost.

The tension was thick for a moment. Nobody knew what to say or do until finally Tina whooped and cheered before shouting, "It's a fucking Christmas miracle!"

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[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny!

Can I please have Belgian waffles, angel food cake and on the house ( hopefully that is the correct thing to say) with max or danny or both 🫶

Love all you have written 🫶🫶

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! it's great to hear what orders you come up with! as for this lovely request from @biancathecool thank you! and yes i can write for the other two drivers you sent in another message (their names escape me as i write this), but yes! hit me with it!! thank you! enjoy!

belgian waffles ("i cum in that every night.") + angel food cake ("if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you.") + on the house: coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen & daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, threesome, maxiel + reader, rivals au, ferrari!reader, cock & pussy drunk, degrading language/dirty talk, mean!max, mean!daniel, rough sex, dom/sub, biting/marking, possessive beheaviour, hate fuck, facials & back shots, cum eating

sharing was caring, at least in daniel's eyes. he had shared a lot of things over the course of his friendship with max verstappen. there were normal things like food, plane rides, they spent weekends together even. he could even recall a night austin when they both shared the same girl for an evening.

so it only made sense that daniel ricciardo would share his favourite rival. the cute little thing on the ferrari team. lucky number forty-seven.

max was mad by the end of the dutch grand prix. one clip from you, another from leclerc. he was getting pummelled by the prince and princess of ferrari on his home turf. and that left a bitter taste in his mouth as he hit his helmet against the wall once the race was over.

you dressed in your ferrari red, beaming at charles who came in first. ferrari took first and second while the lion of the netherlands barely clung to fifth. as you and charles sprayed champagne on each other and laughed, max could feel the anger in his veins.

and daniel was like the devil in max's ear, "hey max, seem kind of pissed." he placed his hand on max's shoulder, "you know, i'm seeing her after this... in my hotel room. you're free to join us, maybe get some of that anger out." he patted the other man's shoulder.

max's jaw tensed for a moment as he got a full view of you on the podium, laughing and waving. max couldn't very well put you under his boot, but he could make a mess of your pretty insides.

"we have a guest tonight." daniel chuckled as he served you more wine.

you were in the hotel room robe with very little underneath. you were tired of wearing clothes after being in that stuffy uniform all day. you happily accepted the wine and brought the glass to your lips, "guest? you didn't."

daniel chuckled and put the bottle down back on the coffee table, "word won't get out. he's good at keeping secrets." he patted your thigh.

the wine tasted good, expensive in a way that you weren't accustomed to. you had your fair share of grocery store wine, but the more that daniel lured you in with the finer things in life. it was getting harder to go back to your old ways. money couldn't buy taste, but it could buy flavor.

there was a knock on the door and daniel got up. you took sight of his ass in those the sweatpants he wore. there was no use looking formal, you were both here for the same thing.

daniel didn't say who the guest of the evening was. but you almost spilled red wine all over yourself at the sight of max on the other side of the door.

"daniel." you said, "not max."

daniel looked over his shoulder and smiled, "c'mon, princess. i can assure you that he won't hurt you... too much." that gleaming smile of his always seemed to get you into more trouble.

you put the glass down and kept your focus on the two men as max entered the hotel room.

"she looks good." max said as if you weren't in the room with them. you swallowed when he looked at you, "she looks better without the uniform on."

"max..." you said.

"well you know, mate." daniel smiled "i cum in that every night." your arrangement had been going on for some time. it didn't help that you lived in the same building during the off season and he'd often visit you in your driver's room. often to get a taste of that soaked cunt he adored.

your ears went hot as you replied, "danny, what the fuck."

max took a step forward and got his shoes off. he stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans. his eyes gazed with hunger on you. it made you close your robe a little more.

"princess." daniel said as he went back to the couch and pulled you close to him, "i think you own max an apology. you've been fucking with him, toying with him. i see how you look at him, when i mention his name you get wet." his grip on you grew tighter, "it's only right you make amends for your team."

you were soon seated in the middle of the couch between the two men. usually the routine with daniel was that you two would have some wine, indulge in kinky and he'd often cuddle you until you made a hasty escape back to your hotel room before anyone caught on.

but there was a look in daniel's eye that had you worried. it felt like you were between two lions who wanted nothing more than to sink their claws into you. chew you up and devour you whole.

daniel started to undo the robe you wore, while max held you face in a tight grip. you weren't going anywhere fast. daniel's lips were on the back of your neck, in a sensitive spot and max was kissing you deeply

"are you going to be good for us, princess?" daniel asked before he made you keep eye contact with max by holding onto your hair.

you looked into the other's blue eyes and swallowed, "you two are sick."

max raised an eyebrow at you before his gaze looked to daniel, "seems you haven't trained her." he spoke about you like you were a dog, not the second place of this weekend's race.

daniel got a hand around your throat and held onto it tightly, he tilted your head back to look at him. he said in a soft voice, "you're making my look bad. i promised our good friend max here a good night tonight."

you swallowed, you felt something boil in your stomach. like it was all going to boil over soon. you were sandwiched between two men who honestly hated you after the grand prix.

you looked at daniel for a moment before you said, "sorry, sir."

"and you'll be good for our friend tonight? treat him nicely. no teeth, no attitude?"

you nodded like an eager puppy and daniel kissed you on the lips. you were pushed up further against the australian driver as max pressed further into you. further being squished between the two men.

when you stopped kissing daniel, max captured your lips once more. you held onto the back of the couch with one hand as a means of some sort of support.

you were stripped of your robe before daniel made you get off the couch and onto the bed in the other room. you scampered away on shaky legs, basically exposed to both men. you could feel their gazes on you.

"why not the couch?" max asked, it would've been easy for max to fold you in half or toss you over the couch.

daniel chuckled and slapped his friend on the shoulder, "it'll be more comfortable for us on the bed. she's pretty flexible, can fuck her about anywhere. but i'd love for us to have a little more comfort." then got off the couch to join you with the dutch driver close behind.

you knew that if you wanted to keep your underwear in one piece, you had to get them off before the other men came. your kicked off your panties and your bra was on the floor before you sat on top of the bed, one leg over the other.

this all felt so sick, it was almost degrading. their stares and their words pierced through you and left your brain running on carnal desires.

you watched them come in, and you tried to make yourself appear a tad smaller, but daniel's voice made you sit up straight once more.

"show them off, princess."

daniel was on you first, he clothes went flying as he smothered you against him. he weight on top of you kept you pinned down to the hotel room bed.

he kissed you with a fever, only breaking it to get his t-shirt off over his head. you felt the leg of his jeans grind against your soaked sex which made you whimper.

he looked over his shoulder for a moment to say to max, "come on in, the water's fine." before he went back to kissing you with a heated passion.

max was slower to get his clothes off. everything came off slowly as he felt a throb between his legs. watching his friend make you a debauched mess.

daniel was a good friend, letting max have a taste of you. letting him sink his teeth into you. and you were such a good little girl for letting max enact his revenge for your little stunt on the track. maybe that'll teach you.

you were meant to look pretty for ferrari, their logo plastered across your pretty tits, not to get in the way of men like max and daniel.

daniel got away from you and propped himself on the bed beside you. his expression was wild and his cheeks were hot. "c'mon there, maxie! don't be so shy!"

max was in his briefs and you swallowed at you looked at him. even so physically exposed, his gaze remained stern on you. you knew he could crack jokes and be funny. but your (almost) win left something searing inside of him.

you swallowed and with a bit of confidence you crooked your finger at him, "yeah, mad max."

"wouldn't be so mad if you gave me a reason not to be, princess."

you swallowed and tried to bite back, in a last ditch effort to gain some sort of control between these two men, "maybe you should race better."

the corner of max's mouth twitched before he looked at daniel, "i'm taking her throat." before he got onto the bed and got himself up against the headboard, he gave his thigh a pat.

daniel was in your space once more, hand on your hip as he said, "you heard the man, hands and knees, princess."

you got between max's legs, your front pressed against the bed to give you the best chance to suck his cock. your ass was stuck up to give daniel a good angle as well. you were to be used.

you looked up at max, his cock pressed against your cheek. you let out a shuddered breath.

"not much of a princess." he said as he took your hair in his hand. his grip was tight, not enough to rip any of it out. but firm enough to guide you onto his cock.

daniel slapped your ass before he placed those large hands on your hips. he chuckled in response, "more like a whore. i wonder what ferrari would think of this? sandwiched between two other drivers. shame, shame." he rubbed his tip up against your wet slit as you started to suck max off.

max held onto your hair as you got your lips around his cock. he took back anything he said about you not being trained. you sucked cock like an obedient dog.

daniel noticed max's expression and chuckled, "i told you she would be good for you." their gaze's met and he added, "took her about eight months to lose that gag reflex. now she's the cock sucking champ of formula one."

max felt something unfamiliar curl in his stomach, "do you share her often?"

daniel shook his head, "no way. she's isn't some whore i give out at parties. we're friends, max. and she needs to learn a lesson."

max looked down at you and pinched your cheek, "if charles fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you." a threat about your teammate. that you were responsible for the entire team. to not upset the likes of max verstappen.

daniel was lapping this up. he knew that sometimes you could be a bit mouthy in the bedroom, so it was nice to have someone fill that gap. keep you nice and quiet.

you whimpered when daniel stuffed his cock inside of you suddenly and your back arched more which allowed the man to push further into you. you were drooling around max's cock, having it almost choke you.

"always wondered how she got in." max said idly as he ran his fingers through your hair. he kept an eye on how well you choked down his cock, "i know her daddy didn't buy her way in. she wasn't the best in any race she was in." he spoke like you weren't in the room. he pushed his cock deeper, your nose in his trimmed pubic hair, "did you give mister vasseur head, princess?"

you met his gaze like you were going to respond but the driver's cock in your mouth left you unable to form much of a sentence. max liked when you looked at him, below him. less than.

"danny won't pass you around, but i bet every head principal got a taste of you." max said, "i be you started with the best and worked your way down." he gripped onto your hair tighter, "whored yourself out for a good contract."

you whimpered, his demeaning words made you cunt tighten around daniel's cock. you were a good driver! you knew that! you came in second and these two were acting like you has the worst record in modern f1!

daniel smirked as he groped your ass cheek, threatening to bruise the skin with his grasp, "while i would agree with you." he licked his lips, "she had actually never had sex before we started to mess around. it only started because she just got so fuckin' turned on after races. taught her everything i could."

max's expression looked surprise, "oh.." he looked down at you once more, "seems you've been a good girl for daniel. i'm surprised, given that mouth of yours. but i guess you just need something to occupy it."

you whined as you felt daniel's cock deep in you. you were being fucked both ways. the princess of ferrari made a mess of. you held onto max's bare thighs and let out a small whimper as they continued their motions against you.

daniel seduced you early on with that laid back attitude, but the more he unwrapped about you. the more he knew that you were just a little slut waiting to happen. you had been a good girl your entire life and now handed a lot of freedom and piles of cash, you needed someone to reign you in.

thankfully daniel liked to keep his favourite rival on a short leash.

"i think after tonight, she'll be a little more gentle on the track." daniel pushed you further into the bed, which made max's cock hit past where your gag reflex used to be.

you felt raw all over, there were a few stray tears in your eyes. but yet it all excited you. letting these two enact their wrath over your second placement.

"she better be." max replied.

the two of them continued to fuck you and you were subject for wave after wave of pleasure. you felt sore all over. daniel's cock rearranging your guts while max's cock was cutting off proper air circulation.

depraved nonsense.

"prettier when she's quiet." daniel mentioned.

max chuckled in response, his cheeks stained pink, "of course she's greedy enough for two cocks."

daniel was the first to finished, he quickly pulled out and jerked off on your back before he finished all over your skin. covering your lower back in pearly white cum. you groaned at the feeling of it across your back, the mess that was made.

"don't cum until our guest finishes. it's called being polite, princess" he said, his voice hot in your lust ridden head.

you mouth on max was sloppy, the driver made sure that you were taking it all the way to the base. and when he was close to finishing, he pulled out of your mouth and stroked his cock until he made a total mess. letting cum land across your cheeks and up into your hair.

max rested against the headboard and looked at the mess he made. if only he had his phone.

"she's something else. if only she brought that energy to every race." daniel chuckled.

you whimpered and tried not to get cum all over the hotel sheets. the embarrassment of house keeping finding it made you want to die. but you weren't covered in cum for long. soon you were fed the cum all over your face and back by the men who put it all over you.

their fingers shoved in your mouth as you whined. their digits dragged across your teeth and the inside of your cheek. they made sure to get the seed all over your tongue so you'd taste them for the next few hours.

number forty-seven for ferrari was a good driver, but an even better cum slut.

-

you woke up in the morning rested against daniel's chest. while that felt familiar and all. there was no way both of his arms were wrapped around your waist like that.

you lifted your head and saw max holding you from behind. the previous night came back to you and you tried to move. but max's arms tightened around you.

"where are you going, princess? we're not done." max's sleepy voice could be heard.

daniel's eyes slightly opened before he pressed your head back to his chest. he held you there for a moment and added, "you're not getting away that easily."

your eyes went wide for a moment. the princess of ferrari had fallen into the jaws of the f1's most ferocious predators. you laid there for a moment, your hand across daniel's chest. you swallowed, there was no where you could hide that daniel and max wouldn't find you.

daniel gripped the back of your head for a moment. he believed in sharing with his good friend max verstappen. didn't matter if it was a slice of pizza, an extra euro for a vending machine, or the princess he had meticulously trained. <3

[stark-ironman]

Separated

A/N: probably my longest fic yet haha. Honestly, I seen a video of Hugh literally picking up another woman in front of his wife at the time and this idea has been living in my head rent free for a few days now. I'm trying to get out of my writing slump. And no this is not proofread

Warnings: angst, jealously, mentions of pregnancy

"Y/N, love, I'm sorry. It honestly was all just for fun." Hugh tries to explain as you start packing your bag. "Fun? You call flirting and picking another woman up in front of me, fun? Smiling and touching her waist all while I had to stand there and keep a fake smile on my face!" You exclaim, looking at him with fiery eyes. "What did you expect me to do? If I said no then I would've been accused of calling her fat and my career would've taken a massive hit!" He raises his voice and throws his hands in the air.

Taking a deep breath, you try to suppress your anger as you look at him. "So, your career is more important than your marriage?" You ask, quietly. "No, I never said that." Hugh tries to reach out for you but you back away from him, crossing your arms over your stomach. "You embarrassed me in front of everybody. All those interviews you've done where you flirt with the hosts and picking that woman up tonight, you've embarrassed me for the last time. We have this argument just about every time you do an interview because of how you act on them, and this is the last time I stand here and feel embarrassed and unworthy of your love. I'm leaving and I don't want you following me. You want to flirt with every single woman in this world then fine, your wish has come true." You take your ring off and set it on the dresser, not once sparring a glance at Hugh as you grab your suitcase and quickly leaving the house.

You drive to the nearest hotel to check in, noticing some of Hugh's friends standing outside but you walk right past them, hearing them whisper amongst themselves as to why you're there, but you continue on to your room.

Once up to your room, you lock the door and immediately hop in the shower. Tears flow down your face as you think back to all the arguments you and Hugh have had over the past couple of years, especially when it comes to him having to flirt with every single woman he is around. You understand it comes with the job for fans and interviewers to flirt with him, but he refuses to set boundaries because it 'hurts his career' as he puts it.

You set a boundary with all the men who interview you or hang around you to not flirt or touch you inappropriately, especially after Hugh got over-jealous one time, and it never hurt your career any. Two years you have wondered why he does it but you can never figure out why. When he's with you, he is the happiest man in the whole world but the moment another woman flirts with him, it's like something flips inside and he turns into a different person, especially when he didn't used to be like this.

Hugh was absolutely crazy about you in the beginning. He wouldn't even glance at another woman but now it's like he craves the attention even though he gets all of yours.

Wiping your tears, you finish showering and get dressed, grabbing your phone as you lay on the bed. You see numerous text messages from your friends about a TMZ link so you look at it and are immediately shocked.

Y/N & Hugh Jackman Reportedly Separate.

Who the fuck told TMZ..

----

A few weeks later, you wake up the next morning to knocking at your door. Silently cursing to yourself, you open it to see Hugh standing there with bags under his eyes and his beard starting to grow out.

"I thought I told you to leave me alone?" You spit, going to shut the door but he stops it. "Please, can we just talk for a minute?" His voice is soft but hoarse, making you wonder if he's been drinking anything. "I told you the other night I was done talking. I've talked for years and you didn't want to listen then." You say trying to shut the door again.

"Y/N, please." He begs and you notice tears forming in his eyes, causing your heart to slightly break. "Five minutes, that's it." You step aside to let him in, shutting the door behind you.

The two of you stand in silence and you watch as he fidgets with his ring, one thing he does when he's nervous to calm him down. "How did you find me?" You ask even though you know the answer. "A couple friends texted me the night you left that you was here." He barely says, coughing a little.

You grab a bottle of water from the fridge, handing it to him as he whispers a thank you. He drinks it and you go sit on the couch, motioning for him to follow.

"I'm sorry," He starts, "I know I've hurt you for a while now and I never wanted to do that but looking back at what I've done, I understand what's wrong. I tried every interview to set a boundary but the interviewers always wait until im on camera to ask me to say or do certain things that if i say no, it makes me look bad. Even my management team said if I tell them no then my career is ruined. My career is no where near as important as you are but darling, I love what I do. I don't want to lose my career but I don't want to lose you either."

"Do you remember when we first got married and I done that interview with Jimmy, the one he was flirting the whole time and you got really pissed off?" He nods and you continue, "What's different about you being jealous versus me?" His head turns down and you know he's finally understanding where you're coming from.

"I'm really sorry." Hugh chokes out, letting the tears fall down his face this time. "I don't know if sorry is going to work this time." You quietly say. "I fucked up and I don't expect your forgiveness. I don't deserve your love or anything." Hugh stands up, heading towards the door and looks at you as he opens it.

"I'll go file for divorce today and have the papers sent by the end of the day." He says and walks out, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts.

Divorce?

You never mentioned wanting a divorce, you really just wanted separation so he could realize the mistakes he made. Which leaving your ring didn't help any and that was a heat of the moment type of thing but you figured he would have tried to fix things before running to a lawyer.

You decide to go out for a cup of coffee so you head to the nearest shop, sitting down in a isolated corner of the building as you scroll your phone, seeing all the news articles trying to pick apart yours and Hugh's relationship.

As you drink your coffee, you see a full flash from the corner of your eye and quickly stand up, heading out of the shop and running straight for the hotel.

"Y/N! Where's Hugh at? Why did you two split?" You hear several paps asking but you ignore them, running straight into the lobby and you're thankful this hotel doesn't allow cameras inside. You start walking towards the elevators, hearing the paps start up again as someone walks through and you turn around, seeing Hugh's assistant walk through the doors with some papers.

'Well that was fast.' You thought to yourself. "Mr. Jackman wanted me to bring these to you." He says handing you the papers.

Taking them out of his hand, you see the word divorce at the top of the paper and hand it back to the assistant. "Take them back and tell him I don't want them." You say giving them back. "But, Mr. Jackman told me to give them to you and make sure everything was in order before I brought them back." He tells you.

"Kid, I don't want the papers. If this is a big issue then call Hugh and tell him I don't want them. I'm going up to my room now so go ahead and do whatever else you need to do." You smile as you walk away, heading back up to your room.

The moment you walk inside, your phone starts going off so you answer it.

"Hello?" You ask.

"Why did you turn away the papers?" Hugh's confused voice fills the phone.

"If you would have given me a moment to talk, you would have known I never wanted a divorce. I wanted you to try to fix things with us before going that route because I do still love you." You sit on the couch, listening to him sigh.

"I'm the stupidest man on this entire planet. I should've let you tell me your feelings, I'm sorry." His voice cracks but you don't think he's crying, yet.

"I want to work on these things with you, Hugh, but I want you to be able to figure out what all you have to fix on your own." You tell him, looking out the window.

"I've already fired my management team for making me believe I couldn't set boundaries and I'm releasing a statement today announcing that I'm taking a long break from doing interviews until people can start respecting the limits I set." He shuffles around and a small smile form's on your face.

"You really did all of that?" You ask.

"I did and I'm going to do more. I want my best friend back home with me." He softly tells you causing your tears to well up as he continues, "Can I take you out tonight?"

"Hugh, don't you think it's too soon?" You ask but he stops you.

"If you think so then just tell me no."

You think about it and your mouth speaks before your brain can come up with a reason. "Let's do it."

"I'll be there at 6, darling." He says before hanging up.

You look at the time, noticing it's 4 now so you get up and start getting ready.

After getting ready, you hear a knock on the door so you look at the time, noticing Hugh shouldn't be here for a few more minutes and you open it to see one of his friends standing there.

"Can I help you? Did something happen to Hugh?" You ask, confused. "The only thing that happened to Hugh was he lost the most beautiful girl by flirting with every one else." The man says, lifting a hand up to your face but you smack it away. "Don't touch me." You tell him but he steps closer. "I know you've wanted me for a long time so don't sit here and act like that." His foot steps inside but he gets flung back into the wall and you look in shock as Hugh starts punching him.

You run up to him, placing your hand on his shoulders causing Hugh to relax against you but he stands up, holding your face in his hands. "Are you okay?" He quietly asks, eyes meeting yours. You nod and hug him.

"Come on, Hugh. You know she doesn't want you anymore." The guy says from the floor and he turns around to look at him. "She didn't want you either, mate, but you tried forcing your way into her room after she said no." Hugh snarls as he kicks the guy so you grab his hand and lead him inside, locking the door.

You grab his hand and lead him to the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet as you start bandaging his hand. "This is not how I wanted our first date to start out." He tells you with a chuckle. "First date, huh." You state, looking up at him to notice he shaved his beard off.

He nods, taking your hand in his as he looks at you with soft eyes that speak a thousand words. "We should go if we're going to make our reservation." Hugh says after a few minutes, causing you to straighten up and finish his hand. "Alright, your hand should be all better." "Thank you, love." He tells you as he stands up.

You both walk out of the room and head downstairs, seeing the paparazzi still standing outside. "Is it okay if I hold your hand?" He asks and you nod, interlacing your fingers with his as he leads you out. The cameras flash like crazy as Hugh leads you to his car and he helps you in before getting in on his side.

"I wish I knew who told the media about our separation." He grumbles after he's been driving for a few minutes. "When I arrived to the hotel that night, there was a group of your friends outside, one being the guy you beat up tonight." You tell him. "Well you don't have to worry, I'm getting a new phone tomorrow and cutting a lot of people off." Hugh says, glancing over at you.

"You don't have to do that." You look over at him to see him shaking his head. "No, I have to do it. They're nothing but trouble for me anyways." He continues driving until he gets to fancy restaurant, leading you inside and acting like the sweet and kind Hugh that you fell in love with originally.

----

After dinner, Hugh takes you back to the hotel but notices the paps are still outside. "Love, why don't you just come back home? I'll sleep in the guest room but I don't want you being harassed anymore." He tries to reason. You think about it especially since you're tired of staying here. "I need to get all of my stuff if I do." You tell him and he pulls his phone out, sending a quick text before driving off.

"My assistant will get it tonight so don't worry." You smile when he says that, reaching your hand over to grip his. Hugh's hand squeezes yours tightly and you see a smile work it's way onto his face.

The drive to the house is fairly quiet and when you get there, he grabs some clothes and goes to the guest room like he promised. You change into some comfier clothes and lay on the bed, tv playing in the background with the volume off, as you try to go to sleep but after hours of tossing and turning, you sigh and get up.

Walking through the house, you think of all the memories that are here and you zone out thinking of everything, noticing you're in front of Hugh's door so you knock quietly. He opens the door and you're met with his broad, shirtless chest and he looks at you with a smile but has a confused look on his face.

"Is something wrong?" He asks. "Can I stay with you? I can't sleep." You quietly say and he steps aside, letting you in. You both get in the bed and he turns the light back off as well try to go to sleep.

Turning over, you lay your head on his chest and he wraps his arm around you to hold you closer, causing you to fall asleep quickly for the first time in 3 weeks to the sound of his heartbeat.

-----

A few more weeks pass and things have gotten entirely better for the two of you. Hugh held up his promises and set boundaries for everybody and he made sure to put out a statement regarding his behavior during the interviews and taking accountability on his part, he even goes to therapy and takes you along with him every couple of days.

Which, a couple of days ago you woke up deathly sick and after Hugh left to get some medicine, you took a pregnancy test and found out you're pregnant so now you're getting ready to go to your ob to find out how far along you are. You just have to tell Hugh and hope this doesn't backtrack all the work you two have done over the past few weeks.

"Hey, love." Hugh says, walking in and kissing your cheek as you greet him back. Yes, cheek, you two haven't made it back to kissing each other yet but you're hoping it's soon.

"Do you feel like taking me to the doctor? I still feel a little queasy after these past few days." You tell him and he nods, wrapping his arms around you. "I wonder what could be going on. You're not running a fever or anything like that and it's honestly got me concerned." He softly says, pressing a hand against your forehead.

"That's actually what I want to talk to you about," You look up and see his eyes glimmer as he looks at you causing you to smile softly before continuing, "I took a test a couple days ago and found out... I'm pregnant." Hugh looks down at you and you see his face go through several emotions before a smile breaks out on his face.

"Are you serious?" He excitedly asks and you nod. Hugh hugs you tightly, kissing your forehead before leaning down and kissing you deeply, feeling the world around you stop when he does. Your arms wrap around his neck and pull him closer, feeling his arms wrap around your waist as he lifts you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

"Is this okay?" He whispers against your lips. "More than okay." You whisper back as both of your lips connect again, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip.

"Shit, we have an appointment to get to." You breathe out, pulling back slightly. He nods and holds you there, burying his face in your neck. "Just give me a minute." He tells you and that's when you feel his erection straining against his pants.

"I'm sorry, hon. I didn't mean to get you hard." You apologize, holding him close. "Trust me, love, it doesn't take much for me to get turned on by you but I'll be okay. I'm just glad to have you back in my arms again." He admits, kissing your shoulder softly.

Your fingers play with the hair on his neck as he holds you in silence.

"Let's go to my appointment and we can talk about where we're at now. Okay?" You say as he sets you down gently and he nods, following you out to the car.

Once to the ob's office, you're lead back and they give you a sheet to put over your lower half so they can do an ultrasound. Hugh grabs your hand, staring at you lovingly as the tech starts checking you. A heartbeat fills the room causing you both to look at the screen and tears to flow out your eyes. Hugh kisses your forehead softly, smiling down at you.

"Well. Mrs. Jackman, it looks like you are 8 weeks along and the baby has a pretty strong heartbeat. You should be able to find the gender out at the next appointment." She says handing you the pictures she took. You nod and Hugh leads you out, taking you home after setting up your next appointment.

Once home, you notice there's food laid out on the table and you look at Hugh, confused. "I had planned a surprise for you tonight but I forgot about it when you told me about the baby. I hope it's okay." Hugh says with a bit of uncertainty. "It's more than okay." You smile as he leads you to the table, pulling your chair back for you and helping you sit down.

You two eat dinner, joking and laughing with each other the whole time and it feels like your relationship feels normal again. "Y/N, I want you to know that I feel bad about upsetting you the way I did a few weeks ago and for the past couple of years and I'm thankful everyday that you've given me a second chance to prove that you're the only person I want. I never want to live my life again without you in it so will you please marry me, again?" He asks getting on one knee in front of you.

You nod, pulling him into a hug after he puts your ring back on and he grips you tightly. "I love you, hon." You say, feeling tears come after saying that to hugh after a month of not saying it. "I will love you forever, darling. I promise."

[satorusugurugurl]

i love everything you write like i wake up just to read them over and over again. could i request some more angst to smut please (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

JJK Men: Going from angsty to smutty!

Characters: Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, AFAB!Reader

Warnings: fighting, yelling, curing, smut, unprotected smut, creampies, dirty talk, making up, mentions of blood and death (Suguru’s) spitting daddy!kink, oral sex, male receiving

Word Count: 8,140 (oops)

A/N: HI Nonnie thank you for the request!! I'm so glad you're enjoying my stuff!! I had a lot of fun with these! I hope you enjoy! Love u! 💚💚💚

Nanami Kento:

Nanami Kento was leaving you again.

He left you once after you graduated high school, giving up the Jujutsu world for his salary job. That nearly destroyed you. You begged him to stay, but once he made up his mind, there was no changing it. So he left and was gone for four years. Until one day, he called Gojo, telling him he wanted back in.

Of course, you were happy to see him back, but you were hesitant to get close to him again. But fate had other plans for you. Everywhere you went, he was always there. Whether you were getting drinks at the vending machines, in the break room, walking around school, or grabbing drinks with your coworkers and friends afterward. He'd always give you a sweet smile and motion to a spot next to him, to which you would refuse until you drunkenly made the mistake of stumbling over to him one night.

He looked so handsome, his hair pushed back, tie discarded, and top buttons undone on his dress shirt. Watching him chug down his beer with a slight flush dusting his cheeks made you feel stupid emotions like longing, lust, happiness, and hopefulness. Maybe if you were to open the door to a relationship with him, it would work out. Both of you have matured so much over the years. Maybe if you gave it another shot, it would work this time.

The night you threw your arms around him after downing a ton of shots to give you the liquid courage even to approach him, he was kind enough to make sure he drank water, took you, and told you you would discuss it in the morning when you woke up the next day with the pounding headache, Nanami was there with aspirin and a water bottle. Even without the alcohol, you were able to tell him that you missed him; you missed the two of you together.

And Nanami felt the same.

That morning led to make-up sex and the beginning of your relationship for a second time—one stronger than the first, built on truth and trust. You never kept anything from each other, always being honest about how you felt and what you wanted in the future. Life had been great until he took you to dinner one late fall evening.

“I’m leaving for Malaysia in a month.” His words felt like he’d stuck red hot needles into your lungs, making breathing hard as your fork fell out of your hand, clanking against your plate. “I bought a property on the beach and will build a house there.”

“Y-You—you’re leaving?”

“Yes, I finally have enough money saved up that I can leave this place, not have to work, and spend the rest of my days reading the books I haven’t gotten a chance to— .”

Your timid voice interrupted him. “You’re leaving me?”

“Darling, it’s not—”

You grabbed your phone, fighting against the burning sting in your eyes. “No, it is.” You were not going to cry, not in front of him. “You’re leaving me again, Kento.” You shook your head, running your hand down your face with a pained laugh. “Oh my god, I’m such an idiot.” Without another word, you stormed out of the lounge room, your heart breaking with every step you took.

It felt like the walls around you were closing in on you. Your chest felt tight as you took deep, ragged breaths, trying to calm yourself down, as tears finally breached the wall you had put up around yourself. The instant those tears ran down your cheeks, your momentum faltered, the stride you had crashing down. You fell to your knees, gripping at your chest as the future you pictured with Nanami slipped away like a film strip burning after too much use.

He always thought about leaving, building a house on the beach somewhere. It was never about the two of you leaving together. Never ‘we’re’ going to build a house. ‘We’re’ going to live in Malaysia. It was always him. And you thought since you both matured, things would be different; maybe since you were sleeping together and you were supposedly in love, he would take you with him next time. Of course, that was a moronic and naïve thought.

You were losing him all over again.

When you finally came to your senses, you hurried back to your apartment. You tried making dinner, watching a movie, doing anything to distract yourself from the pain that had settled in your heart. But anytime a second passed when you weren't busy, moving, or thinking, Nanami’s words whispered in the depths of your mind.

How could he just up and leave you like this again?! It hurt so bad; it was almost soul-crushing. After all the plans you had made, like getting married when you retired, and the places you'd see. All those plans were suddenly garbage because he could finally live out his dreams. Dreams that you should be happy about! You didn’t want your boyfriend to continue to suffer in a job he disliked, constantly working overtime, wasting his life away.

What hurt the most was that he didn't even ask if you wanted to come with him!

The hurt slowly turned into rage, so hot and heavy that you didn't hear the door to the apartment creak open. Nor did you hear said boyfriend's keys dropping into the bowl on the entry table. You did, however, feel his hand gently grabbing your shoulders. To which you pulled away.

“Don't fucking touch me!” You barked out, whirling around, jabbing your finger into his chest. “I don't fucking want you touching me!”

Nanami winced at the pain in your voice, hurrying after you as you stormed towards the bedroom. “Love, please stop.” Nothing was said as you threw the covers back on your bed. “Please let me talk to you. Let's have an actual conversation like adults instead of children!” Frustration and anger were evident in his voice, emotions that only seemed to fan the flames of your anger.

“Are you insinuating that I—” you pointed to yourself, “am acting like a child?”

“When you refuse to speak to me, yes.” you laugh. It's cold and void of joy as you place your hands on your hips.

“You wanna talk?! Fine, let’s fuckin’ talk!” You toss the throw pillows to the ground with an anger that could fuel a bonfire. “I cannot believe you’re leaving me again!”

Nanami’s honey-brown eyes followed each pillow that slammed into the ground with a force that made him cringe. “Who said I was leaving you?” He cocked a brow in your direction as you crawled into bed, fluffing your pillows.

“You said ‘you’ were leaving for Malaysia, that ‘you’ we’re going to build ‘your’ house on the beach. So excuse me, you made it very clear that you are leaving.”

“I am—” You open your mouth to tell him you were right that you knew that already, but he held a hand up in front of him, ceasing your interjection. “But I want you to come with me.”

“Oh, please don’t treat me like I’m some item you forgot to pack! You told me it was your house, books, everything!”

Without so much as a word, your boyfriend stalked over to the bed, reaching into the suit jacket. You watched with rage-filled eyes as he handed you an envelope. Nanami didn’t say where you snatched the envelope out of his hands. Opening it up, you found two one-way tickets to Malaysia. One had your boyfriend‘s name on it, while the other had yours.

You found yourself staring at the tickets as if you stared long enough; you would somehow get the answers to the questions running through your head. It isn’t until the bed dips under Nanami’s weight that you finally look up at him. His eyes held no malice or anger; they drifted from the envelope before slowly meeting your confused gaze.

“I could have started the conversation out better. But you ran off before I could finish.” He took your hand in his, thumb gently stroking the side of your thumb. “Yes, I bought a property out in Malaysia. I plan on building a house on the beach, filling it with all the books I haven’t read.” He squeezed your hand. “But that house will never be a home without you in it. I want you to come with me; I promise I will take such good care of you.”

“Y-You want me to come with you?”

“Of course I do; I left you once, and that almost ruined us completely. Do you honestly think I would ever put us at risk like that again?” Big tears welled over your eyes, streaming down your cheeks. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you; please come with me.”

Nanami’s thumb gently brushed your tears away. His smile was gentle and warm, and you hiccuped, nodding your head in agreement. “Y-Yes, Kento, I would love to go with you!” He grinned, excitement in every part of his features, as he pulled you and kissed you deeply.

It was the kind of kiss that lasted a lifetime, conveying how sorry you were for the misunderstanding. A kiss that had started very soft and sweet before it turned into something more desperate and hungry. A kiss that had you shoving your boyfriend back against the bed.

“What are you doing?” Nanami asked with curious eyes as you unbuckled his belt.

“Shh, relax.”

Nanami had been confused at first, but all his questions were answered several minutes later as you bobbed up and down his thick girthy cock. His hand fisted your hair as he watched as tears pricked your eyes as you struggled to take more of him into your mouth. Each time you went down, he felt his tip hit the back of your throat, which in turn made you gag, coating his cock in more of a slick combination of your saliva and his pre-cum.

You were so beautiful, stunning, sucking his cock down eagerly. You gag, eyes flooding with tears as he looks down at you, grunting as his eyes shut. His hand gently strokes your hair, collecting it in a makeshift ponytail. You hummed happily, looking into his narrow eyes before he shoved you down until your nose brushed over his trimmed pubes.

“Look at my lover~ such a good girl making me feel good.” He shivers as you moan around him. “Fuck darling, yes~ just like that~ swallow my cock like a good girl.” He sighs out, his hips gently bucking up into your mouth. “Soo good~ all because I’m taking her to Malaysia where she won’t have to worry about working again.” There was something in his words that had you shuddering as you dipped your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit through your shorts. “Ooh? Do you like the idea of me taking care of you? Spoiling you rotten for all time?” The only response Nanami gets in return from you is the way you eagerly swirl your tongue around his cock. “Ahh, atta girl~ using her tongue to tell me.”

You planned to show him how much you appreciated him in many more ways. For now, this would do. Nanami held a firm grip on your hair as you bobbed faster, your hands reaching down, cupping his balls, squeezing them tight. Your sweet, considerate moans had him groaning into his hand, head falling back as you deep throat him. Making sure he knew how much you loved him, how much you appreciated him spoiling you and making sure neither of you had to deal with the mundane lives of the working force.

“Haaah yes~ fuck suck it~”

His dirty words have you rubbing yourself harder as you do as he commands. “mhmm!”

“That’s it~ good girl fuck are you gonna swallow it? Swallow all of my seed down your throat?”

You take more of him down your throat than you do. “Nngh!” Nanami chuckles, wrapping his hand around your hair as if it were his tie, forcing you down before yanking you back up and pushing you down again.

“Good girl, be sure to swallow every drop, and I’ll reward you.”

He’s thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth face fucking you as hard as he possibly can. You do your best to relax your throat, but drool seeps out the corners of your mouth, running down your chin. As Nanami focuses his attention on the tears that prick your eyes, you struggle to take him down further. It’s the struggling, effort, and the way you’re gagging and moaning around his thick, hard cock that in him tumbling over the edge of sweet release.

“Nngh fuck~! Fuuuck yes, swallow, swallow every last drop of it, and don’t let it spill out.” Your boyfriend growls as he continues, holding your head in place as he continues fucking into your mouth. “Yes~! Yes fuck!”

His cum is thick and hot, slowly sliding down your throat as you stare up at him. Admiring the flush that dances over his cheeks up to the tip of his ears. His face is scrunched up with pleasure as the waves of pleasure roll through him, leaving you wet and ready. Your clit twitched under your finger pads as Nanami pulled you off of his cock. You waited for him to lift you by your hair, bringing you close to his face. What you hadn’t been anticipating was for him to shove you down against the floor while he did his tie, letting it hang loosely around his neck.

“K-Kento—ooh!” You yelp as he forces your legs apart with both his hands, spreading them wide for him. “Whoa! Holy shit!”

“I’m going to make up for upsetting you.” He whispered, grabbing your shorts, yanking them down your legs, and throwing them behind him. “By making you squirt on my tongue.”

As Nanami trailed kisses up your thighs, you shuddered against the cool wooden floor, imagining if this was the same way he’d spoiled you when you were in Malaysia; instead of being on the floor, he would be on the sand at the beach. Maybe some fights and misunderstandings were worth having. You screamed out as Nanami took your clit into his mouth, sucking on it gently. Fuck, some fights were totally worth having!!

Geto Suguru:

“Suguru—” you whisper as your boyfriend grabs his bags, not stopping to look over his shoulder at you. “Do you have to take this mission?”

The dark-haired man taps his thumb against the center of his forehead. “Yes, everyone else is on their missions. I have to do this.” He slips on his shoes, and you can’t help but feel another part of him slip away with the action.

It has been a year since the Plasma Star Vessel, Amanai Riko, was killed and a year that your boyfriend has been suffering. He wouldn’t admit it, but you could see how he changed. He had lost weight, dark circles permanently resided under his eyes, and he had grown distant from you and your friends. Everyone had been worried, asking if he was okay, but he blamed it on the heat in the missions he was constantly sent on.

But you knew he wasn’t. He hadn’t been okay since Riko died. If he would talk to you and stop pushing you away, you might be able to help him.

“I could go with you.” You suggested, slipping on your sandals and following him out the door of the dorms. “My curse technique could be helpful.”

“It can, but this is a simple mission out in the countryside. You know the curses out there are weaker than those in the city. I’ll be back in no time, I promise.”

You want to scream and shout at him to beg him to talk to you. “I could help—”

“I just said it’s a quick miss—”

“I’m not talking about the mission, Suguru.” he stops, looking back at you from over his shoulder. “I can help you with whatever you’re going through. If you stop and talk to me, I’ll listen to you vent, scream, and curse the world. But I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Sugu.”

Cicadas buzz in the distance as your boyfriend stares at you with no words leaving his mouth. At this point, you’re fuming with anxiety, frustration, and anger over the silent treatment and him pushing you away. How would you help your boyfriend if you refused to talk to you? He didn’t want to talk to you or anyone else. If he didn't talk about it soon, the pain he had been bottling down for the last year was going to burst sooner or later.

You had hoped that your words might act as a voice of reason and that maybe speaking the truth would finally break him out of the stupor he found himself in. Your hopes didn’t have a chance to kindle, however, because all he did was sigh, turning his back on you with a shake of his head. That casual brushing off made your worry melt into rage. You stormed down the stairs, rushing after him to stand in his way, arm stretched out in front of you, preventing him from moving further.

“Talk to me!”

“I don’t want to!”

“Why the fuck not?!”

“Because you weren’t there! You don’t know what we went through. You wouldn't understand; you're just some girl I date. You have no clue how hard it was being one of the strongest.”

His words hurt, knocking you back a step. “What—?” Suguru shoved past you, storming down the steps. “What the fuck is your problem?!” Screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks. “I’m not just some girl! I'm your girlfriend! I am not someone you can talk to like that you can’t—”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” darkness flooded his eyes as he snapped his attention towards you. “Do you fucking understand me?” You were too stunned to speak. “Fucking drop it before I drop you.”

“Maybe I should be the one to break up with you then. If you don’t wanna talk to me, then I don’t see a reason for us continuing this relationship.”

Blurred your eyes as you looked over your shoulder, watching your boyfriend freeze his back and turn to you for a second. Instead of turning around to talk to you, he kept heading down the steps towards the car waiting for him. That was all the answer you needed from him. When he returns from his mission, you will give him all his stuff back since your relationship is over.

You had so much planned on what you wanted to say to him when you handed him all his shit when he got back to the school. You refused to keep fighting for a relationship that was as good as dead. Suguru needed to work through his issues, and maybe once he was feeling more like himself, you might consider talking to him, let alone working.

Those words and thoughts were titanium. Your resolve was set in stone, and you wouldn’t let him convince you that he was fine otherwise. He needed to heal to talk to someone. It broke your heart, but you weren’t the person he needed.

Saying all that, keeping true to your word was much easier said than done.

The resolve you claimed was stronger than titanium snapped like a twig when a call at two in the morning had you jumping out of bed. Suguru’s name flashed on your screen, and you forgot about the fight and the drama, answering your cell as fast as your hands would allow.

“Suguru?” You yelled, jumping to your feet. “Are you okay?”

The other line was silent before your boyfriend sighed. “I wanna talk.” You were slipping your shoes, nodding your head as he could see. “But I’m going to send you an address. Meet me there. Just don’t tell anyone where you’re going.” The fact he didn’t want anyone else coming with you didn’t bother you.

You stepped inside the hotel room Sugurh had messaged you about, and as you did, the scent of blood and smoke flooded your senses, making you question his reason for you coming alone. Glancing around the dark room, you found him crouching beside a bed where two little girls lay. They were bruised and bandaged up, holding each other’s hands as they peacefully slept. Your boyfriend watched them silently, his shirt splattered with the blood that still lingered on him before his eyes finally looked towards you.

“Suguru—what happened?”

“I’m going to remake the world.”

“Huh?” You step further inside the hotel room, approaching him cautiously. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going to kill the non-sorcerer and remake this world into a better one.”

You laughed softly, thinking that maybe he was just fucking with you. But the way his eyes narrowed, and his jaw clenched, you knew otherwise. Your boyfriend was serious, deadly serious. It didn’t make any sense. This was your boyfriend, who saw it as Jujutsu Sorcerer's duty to protect non-sorcerers. This new ideal had to be one of the reasons he had been so standoffish with everyone.

Instead of scolding or yelling at him, you sat down on the bed adjacent to the young girls, observing your bloodstained boyfriend. He had done the one thing you asked him to do, and that was for him to talk to you. You gently padded the spot on the bed next to him with a gentle smile.

Suguru opened up to you about everything. Riko’s death, the clapping from the religious group members he was constantly hearing, and the discussion he had with Tsukumo Yuki. For the first time in months, you felt like you were finally listening to your boyfriend talk. Part of you felt relieved, but something else began to take a route in your stomach as he told you about Nanako and Mimiko. He had slaughtered an entire village, an action he stood by and one he did not regret.

“I’ll be banned from Jujutsu Society and given a death sentence. But I don’t regret what I did.” Suguru’s eyes were glued to the floor, hands in his lap. “But you deserve to know what I did. What I plan on doing, I will remake this world, ridding it of non-sorcerer, those useless damn monkeys.”

He wasn’t sure how you would react. He expected you to shout, yell, and look at him in utter disgust. Yet what you did left him stunned as you reached across his lap and took his hand in yours. Suguru watched as your clean fingers intertwined with his, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying draw his attention towards you.

“We’ll remake the world.” His eyes went wide as he sat up back stiff as a board as the light returned to his eyes. “I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why would you willingly say yes? I killed people. You understand that. I killed a lot of people, and I’m going to have to kill more.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because you have a point. I see the world you want to create, and I want to help you.” You turned your body to him, wiping dried blood on his cheek. “Because I love you.”

The icy wall that had formed between you both melted. Suguru grabbed you by the face, kissing you deeply. He snarled and growled into your mouth, pulling you to your feet and dragging you into the bathroom. His lips only left yours to remove your clothes. Start the shower and shut the door. Once he got his hands, mouth, his entire body pressed against yours, you didn’t stand.

Suguru had you pinned into the shower floor with your hands pinned above your head as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hips furiously bucked into yours as his lips smashed and moved against your own, his teeth nipping and sucking at your lips, pulling it back before releasing it, drawing blood. He needed you with a deep, crazed passion. His cocks slammed in and out of your pussy. The lack of prep on both your parts had your walls stinging with each hard thrust into you.

“Haah! Fuck! Oooh fuck!!”

“You’re mine~! You’re fucking mine, and we could’ve remake this fucking world. You could stay by my side. You’re never gonna fucking leave me.”

His teeth finally gave up their ass assault on your lips, moving to attack your neck instead. “Nngh! Fuck! Suguru!” He growled, his ass clenching with each deep thrust into you, the curve of his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly, guttural moans from you.

“Fuuck, that’s right. Say my name. I missed hearing you say my name.”

“Suguru.”

“Yes—fuck what does my princess need?”

“W-Wanna touch you! Please, Sugu!”

You didn’t even need to beg; Suguru let go of your wrists, allowing you to wrap your arms around him, digging your nails into his back, scratching down his toned muscles. Your boyfriend hissed at the sting pain, but he returned the favor, digging his finger into your hips, grabbing you roughly fucking into you with the same momentum, making sure not only you would have bruises on your skin, but your poor pussy would be bruised as well. He wasn’t just leaving his mark on the world but also his pretty princess.

His dark, wet, damp hair fell over his shoulder as he slammed into you with one hand, reaching up to cut the back of your head, cradling it gently as he slammed into you with all of his strength. He was making up for the months that you hadn’t been intimate. He was ensuring that you knew how excited he was to have you on his side and to have you see the world as he saw it.

He fucking loved you.

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m gonna cum; I’m gonna cum inside your pussy.” His into your ear, feeling the way you clamp down around him, his vulgar words. “Yeah, does my princess like that?”

“Yes!”

“The beg for it, beg me to cum in that tight little cunt.”

Your nails dug harder into his skin as you felt his cock twitching inside of you. “Please, please cum inside of me, Suguru! I need it! I want it so fucking bad!” His thrusting, the words he said, and the way he kept rubbing the head of his cock against your spot have your leg shaking body arching off the shower floor. “Oo-ooh! Fuck! I’m cumming! Cumming!!” You screamed as your walls convulsed around his cock, drawing out a deep moan from Suguru.

“Take it! Take it, baby~! Fuuuck~! Yes, cum on my cock~ cum for me, princess cum!”

The warmth of his cum filling you grinned as you happily peppered his neck with kisses. God, you missed this; you missed him. Once his thrust came to a stop, you hummed, kissing down his neck yourself. He smiled, chuckling weakly against your soft skin.

“Fuck,”

“Yeah, fuck.” You purred, holding him tight as his cock twitched inside of you. “I needed that so bad.”

As you both lay on the shower floor, Suguru held you tight. You rubbed your hands up and down his biceps, fingers trailing over his chest. As he watched your hands slowly move over his body, he realized how lucky he was to have you. You were throwing away your comfortable, stable life for him, leaving the world you knew behind to become a curse user who would help him obtain his goals. You were too good for him.

“God,” he whispered, pulling you up to his mouth, pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss. “I can’t wait to rule the world with you.”

Gojo Satoru:

You loved your boyfriend. Gojo was an amazing partner and friend. But dating the strongest sorcerer of the modern age came with its downside. Satoru was consistently being the mission he was consistently sent on. You were supportive and always willing to wait for him. You stayed up late to talk to him when he was in different time zones. You made him his favorite meal when he got home.

You even understood when he would come home that he was tired and just wanted time to himself, like sleeping or snuggling you in the silence of his condo. You loved waiting at home for him, eager to help him relax and take some of the stress off of him whenever you could.

That was the usual routine until he started going out with his friends instead of you. He would often say he needed to go to a new cafe and get himself a sweet treat; it was like a reward to himself. Which you didn’t mind; in fact, you encouraged it! If Satoru wanted to go out, he could. You weren’t the type of girl to be all controlling or suspicious of his actions. At the end of the day, as long as he came home to you, you didn’t mind when he did. You were happy as long as he was getting the stress relief he needed.

And he needed that kind of stress relief with the higher-ups making him work as much as they were. It felt like every other weekend, he was getting sent on missions, which was strange because it was summertime. There shouldn’t have been as many curses since it was the slow season for you guys. You didn’t question it at all. Instead, you continued to offer to be there to support him if he needed you.

Until you caught him.

It was supposed to be a girl's night; you, Utahime, and Shoko went to the local bar to enjoy a few cocktails and vent about your day. When you walked in, you sat in your booth, sipping on your Sex on the Beach, while Shoko sighed, finishing her fifth shot of whiskey. Her eyes kept dying behind you before I glanced at the table, running her long-painted nail over the rim of the glass.

“So, where did they ship Satoru off to this time?” She asked, smiling as the waiter brought her another drink.

“Mhm,” you swallowed the drink in your mouth, “Ireland, something about some castle curse or something. I don’t know. It seems like there’s been a lot of activity, which is weird.”

“Ireland, huh?” Shoko sighed, taking another peak over your shoulder. “Bastard didn’t even bring back souvenir for me. You would think he would bring me back some Irish whiskey.”

“Well, he might; he should be back tomorrow night.” Your friends' reactions mirrored each other. It was a look that spoke volumes, one that had your stomach unsettled. “What? Why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

“Gojo is still in Ireland?”

“Yeah—?”

Shoko sucked down a breath rubbing at the back of her neck, before pulling out her cigarette box. “Well, don’t look now, but I think your boyfriend got back sooner than you thought.” She points behind you with her cigarette.

Turning your head, your eyes go wide, finding your boyfriend sitting in a booth with his closest friends. In Tokyo, and not in Ireland like he had told you an hour beforehand. You felt like the room was spinning, and it wasn’t because of the small amount of alcohol you had drank. No, it was because of the carefree look on his face as he smacked Geto on his back before downing his cola.

Your body moved before you could even think. Rushing forward, pushed past strangers, hurrying towards your boyfriend, who hadn’t even noticed you running towards him. His friends, however, did notice. Geto smiled as he waved at you, Nanami nodded his head in acknowledgment, and Haibara leaned his head back against the booth, turning his head just as you slammed your hands down on the table.

“Oh, hi! How are you doing tonight?” Haibara cheerfully greeted, sitting up straight, eyes sparkling. “I thought Gojo said you were out on a mission.”

Upon hearing his name brought into the conversation, your boyfriend turned his attention towards you before spurting out the cola he had been drinking, the liquid coming out his mouth, and he coughed harshly into his fist. You felt sick to your stomach, and your chest felt tight. Why would he lie about being home?

“Funny, he said the same thing about himself.”

“Sweetie, I uhm—“

“How was Ireland?” You questioned, tilting your head and crossing your arms over your chest.

Suguru cocked a pierced brow, his dark eyes darting towards his best friend, who looked like he was about ready to shit bricks. “Ireland? I thought you said that’s where she was at?” All eyes seem to focus on your white-haired boyfriend as the back of your throat burns with unshed tears.

“So I guess it’s at least good to know. I’m not the only one you’re lying to.” You rolled your eyes, storming out of the bar and snatching your purse from Shoko, who was watching. “Bye.”

“Sweetie! Honey, wait!”

“No! I have nothing to say to you right now that would be remotely good!” You yelled back at him, listening to his footsteps over the sticky bar floor. “So please leave me alone.”

“Baby!” His slender fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “Listen! I—fuck, I’m sorry!”

“Sorry for what you did, or sorry you got caught in a lie? One that you apparently had told several different people.”

There was nothing he glanced aside from instead of staring at the floor. “I’ve just been overwhelmed with work and didn’t want to come home.” The tone in his voice is almost comical.

“Okay? When have I ever had an issue with you going out? You could’ve just told me the truth instead of lying.”

“I just felt like I’ve been neglecting your needs, but I feel like I’m not in a position to be there for you in the way you need.”

For a second, your boyfriend thinks you might stop to give him the time to listen to what he has to say. Instead, you yank your arm out of his grip, letting it limply fall to your side. Gojo can see the pain in your eyes. Pain that he wanted to avoid putting on you, but instead, he’s pretty sure he had caused more pain.

“So you lied about being on a work trip?” He says nothing. “Good to know you feel that way.”

You start heading back out to get an Uber, but Satoru is right behind you. “Baby please, I just, I feel so tired all the time. I just need to unwind.” You turn back around, shooting daggers up at him.

“Fucking unwind! Do whatever you want! I don’t give a fuck!”

“Then why are you so upset?”

“Because you fucking lied to me!” You screamed, causing him to wince through his teeth. “You called me today and told me you were in Ireland! When you could have told me, ‘Hey babe, I’m going out with the guys,’ instead, you fucking lied to me!”

Satoru frowned, not knowing what to say in a situation like this. A problem that he had created himself. One that could’ve easily been avoided if he had told you the truth. So, instead of saying anything, he just dropped his head down in shame.

You fought against the urge to somehow break through his infinity and slap the shit out of him. But since that was impossible, he watched as you wiped the welling tears from your eyes with a shaky sigh. With a swallow and a deep breath, you turned away from him, heading to the car that pulled up to the curb for you.

“W-Wait, where are you going?!”

“Home.”

Without so much is another word, you got in the car, and your boyfriend watched as it drove off down the street. He had messed up royally this time. So much so he wouldn’t be surprised if you were to break up with him at this point. Gojo had been so stressed, and he didn’t want you going above and beyond to take care of him when you were just as stressed as he was. he saw how you acted. You made it a point to cook his favorite meals to buying him his favorite sweets, when you had the same dark circles under your eyes from your hard work being a sorcerer.

You seemed to enjoy helping him out like that. Like it was a highlight of your life. So, instead of sitting down and talking to you like a normal person, he decided to go out with his friends. Giving yourself time to hang out with your friends, read a book or catch up on some well-deserved rest. He should’ve just talked to you about this but didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

But in trying to protect your feelings, he had hurt you even more. He couldn’t just idly stand and let this be the end of the conversation. He needed to talk to you and tell you how sorry he was in person.

When you got home, you could smell Gojo in the apartment. You weren’t expecting to smell his cologne, seeing that you had left him twenty minutes prior at the bar, but the asshole was able to teleport himself wherever he wanted. So much is saying a word. You threw your purse on the entryway table before storming towards the bedroom, where, low and behold, he was waiting for you.

He sat on the edge of the bed, cerulean eyes snapping towards the door as you walked in. “Sweetie.” He hesitantly spoke, hurrying after you as you headed into the bathroom. “Look, can we talk?”

“About what? Your next mission: what are you going to China or something? Or is it just another excuse for you to hang out with your friends?”

You were pissed. This would be one of those moments you held over his head for all time. “Look, I fucked up, big time.” You laughed, glancing at him in the mirror as you took your shirt off. “Okay, majorly fucked up, I should’ve talked to you, but I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” The cold, dark stare you gave him in the mirror told him that your feelings were already hurt, and his reasoning was stupid to bring up at this point. “Will you please just listen for a second? Let me apologize properly.”

While the idea of fumigating in your anger was tempting, you knew if you didn’t give him the opportunity to, he wouldn’t get off your ass for the rest of the night. Shaking your head, you turned to face him as you leaned against the glass door of the walk-in shower. A certain relief settled inside Gojo’s chest as he stepped closer towards you.

“I’m sorry for lying. I should’ve been honest with you. But you always get so excited taking care of me when I get home that I didn’t wanna hurt your feelings.” The pinch of your brows softened as he spoke. “You spoil me fucking rotten. I honestly don’t deserve someone as good as you. I’m an egotistical, arrogant, pompous asshole, and you were too good for me. Even though I can see how tired you are, you always make an appointment to put me first.”

“Toru—”

“So I decided to take a step back and relieve some of my stress by hanging out with the guys. Lately, you’ve been so rundown. So I’ve told you I was going to Ireland so you could have a night to yourself. You have to worry about dinner or taking care of or making me feel good when you should be taking care of yourself as well as you take care of me. Fuck I should be taking care of you. But I’m just so fucking tired. I don’t have the energy to do that, and unfortunately, I’ve neglected you and your needs.”

“No—Toru, I see where you’re coming from, and it’s alright.”

“No, it’s not alright. Nothing about this is alright. I should’ve talked to you instead of lying to you, and I fucked up.” He hesitantly reached out, grabbing your hand and squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry I lied. I should’ve told you the truth.”

You were still angry over him lying to you. he could’ve been more of an adult and told you what he felt. But simultaneously, you could see where he was coming from. You had been putting a lot of effort into taking care of him and thus neglecting your own needs. He was right; you were as tired as he was. Not only did you have your own missions to go on, but on top of taking care of the condo and trying to make him feel comfortable, you hadn’t put time away for yourself. In his reasoning, he was trying to take care of you like you had taken care of him.

You allowed him to take your hand, squeezing his fingers back. “I swear to God if you lie to me like this ever again, and I catch you at the bar with your friends when you’re supposed to be in Ireland, I will kick your ass all the way there myself, Gojo Satoru.” he wins at the use of his full name, but your boyfriend pulls your hand tugging you into his chest.

“Noted, I promise I won’t ever do that shit again. I’m really sorry, baby.”

“It’s fine. We both got overwhelmed and instead of communicating, we just ignored it. Next time, I think we can do better as a couple. That way, this sort of shit doesn’t happen again.”

Gojo nods before he presses his chin against the top of your head, wrapping his long, lanky arms around you. “Right, I can do that.” You into his chest, sighing happily. “Is it too late to start communicating our feelings now?” You giggle, you’re almost bare chest rumbling against him.

“Depends on what exactly you want to talk about.”

Gojo pulls his chin off your head before grabbing your face in his hand. He lifts your head, forcing you to look at his beautiful, stunning eyes. “I don’t really wanna talk. I want to feel. I want to make you feel good. If you’re not too angry with me.” You slowly run your hands up his chest, smiling lovingly at him.

“I can’t say no to you.”

One steamy make-out session later ended with you both pressing each other against the walls in the bathroom; Gojo had you pressed against a wall, wrapping you up in his arms and holding you in his chest. "I missed you so much, sweetheart. So fucking much." The hot, steamy water from the running shower made the bathroom hot. He kissed you gently.

“I missed you too, Toru.” You whispered against his lips with a giggle as you brushed some of his hair out of his eyes.

His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your soft skin. "Can I kiss you again?" Instead of answering his question, you close the distance between your lips, kissing him deeply, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him closer. Satoru grunted, leaning forward and slamming his hands against the glass door to the shower. “Fuuck missed you, baby.” He slowly pressed his lips to yours, holding his breath momentarily as he just kissed you like there was no tomorrow.

“Mhmm Satoru~”

He pulled away after a moment, his hands still holding your face. "God— Fuck, I missed hearing you sent my name like that." He held you tight, pressing your head to his chest as he slowly dried his fingers down your back.

“I’ve missed saying it,” you pressed gentle kisses up his chest, flicking your tongue over his nipple. “But I missed moaning it more.”

"Oh, you have?" He felt his heart and cock flutter at that, smiling softly.

“Ooh yeah, I’ve missed your cock.”

Gojo cocked an eyebrow with a smirk. "Well, I guess we have something. We have to do something about that then?~" He pulled you tighter against his body, his hardening cock rubbing against your bare hip. "I missed that amazing pussy, too~."

You whined, looking up at him. "I want you now, Toru." You whispered as you wrapped your hand around his cock, gently stroking him with a twisting motion.

“Oooh fuck baby.” His eyes slowly shut, his cock immediately completely hard. "Yeah does my sweet little girl need her Daddy’s cock?" He groaned softly, still holding you close against his bare ivory skin.

“Yeah~ I need it fuckin’ bad.”

Satoru bit his lip, his cock twitching in your hand. "Fucking okay, sweetie, I’ll give it to you.” He groaned, lifting you, pressing you against the glass wall of the shower. "God, I can't fucking resist you."

"Ah~!" You gasped out, your eyes glossy with need. "Fuck, please." You’d had sex against walls before, but this was needier, and fuck, it made you wet. "Fuck me, Toru~ fuck me until I squirt on your fat cock."

Just hearing you say those things made him shiver, leaning into you, kissing you deeply. "Of course, sweets~" He groaned as he held his hand up to you. “Spit.” You followed his instructions, spitting into his hand. He moaned as he rubbed it on his cock in place of lube. Once his cock was slick, he held you up by your waist and slowly lowered her down onto his aching length.

"Fuck!" You cried out, your eyes rolling back. "Oh god, y-you're so fucking big." Your whimpers grew louder as he stretched you out with his thick cock. "Fuck me, Toru!"

“Ahh fuck—“ Satoru let out a small growl, his left arm holding your waist and his right hand moving up to toy with your clit. "That’s right, sweetie, moan for me. Let’s get another fucking noise complaint from our neighbors ~" He pistoned his hips He pistoned his hips into you, thrusting fast and hard, chasing his already-building orgasm.

He glanced up, watching your eyes roll back, your hands gripping his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin. Loud sounds escaped your mouth as you looked into his eyes, dilated with pure animalistic need. He leaned in, kissing you deeply, swallowing your moans he fucked into you.

"Fuck, you're so damn pretty, Sweetheart~" He groaned, wet slapping sounds reverberating off the walls with every thrust. " O-Oh god, I'm—not going to last long. I've been so pent up!”

You weren’t in much of a better position than him feeling him, slamming into his curved cock, hitting every special spot inside of you. At the same time, his right hand played with your clit and had you on the edge so ridiculously fast you’re pretty sure he was about to world record. Satoru watched as your eyebrows knitted together as you stared into his eyes. There was a desperation in your beautiful eyes as you cried out his name, telling him you were close.

“G-Gonna cum Toru~! Gonna cum!”

At least you were able to form coherent words. Feeling your walls flutter and hearing the sweet sound that left your lips made Satoru’s hips stutter, and he moved, slamming his lips to yours as he gripped your hips, shoving you down all the way on his cock as he groaned, releasing his cum into you. Feeling his warm seed fill you sent you right over the edge with him, making you tilt your head back as sweet moans of his name left your lips.

“Missed you.” That was the only thing your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Toru.”

“I’ll never lie to you again.”

“Thank you—Ah!” You squealed as he opened the shower door, stepping inside with you. “Toru!”

“So when I tell you we’re going eight rounds tonight, you better fuckin’ believe it’s happening.” Gojo would show you just how sorry he was for hurting you. Even if that meant you were hurting from all the sex you were about to have the next day.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[ashlynlovestlou]

Can you do EllAbs DESTROYING the reader, and she looks at them, all fuck dumb and covered in spit and cum and she says "That all?" And Ellie is staring and 👁️👄👁️ with her strap dangling off one of her legs, and Abby crosses her arms, strap in one hand vibrator in another "Can you take more?" Reader smiles and says "No✨" and passes tf out

ellabs x reader (blurb)

꩜ synopsis: just ellabs aftercare :))

꩜ CW: overstimulation , dom! ellie and abby , sub! reader , afab! reader , strap use (r receiving) , dacryphilia , MOSTLY aftercare , mention of bruises and skin irritation , no use of y/n , use of pet names

nsfw!! men dni, sorry this is so short :(

masterlist

☆—--------------------------------------------------—☆

You lay staring at the ceiling, completely fucked silly. You didn't even have it in you to cry any longer. You came at least four times, but you lost count when you almost passed out from forgetting to breathe.

"What do you think, Abby?" Ellie asks, gently rubbing circles around your clit, the stimulation just about making you want to scream. And you would have, if you had it in you.

"That all?" Abby asked you, vibrator in one hand and strap resting in the other.

"I think she's got one more in her." Ellie says softly, moving her calloused fingers from your clit to your stomach, where she rubs gently circles on your skin.

You wanted to throw up at the thought of yet another orgasm, but you didn't have the energy to object.

"Speak, baby. We need words." Abby says.

"N-No." You stutter out.

Without another word, both girls get off you, peeling their straps off their hips. Ellie was the one to run off to the bathroom, fetching two towels: one damp and one dry.

The second the rough material of the towel touches your pussy you pull away, your legs closing as your sensitive and irritated skin is stimulated further.

"Baby, breathe. Ellie is just cleaning you up." Abby tuts, peppering kisses on your tear-stained face.

You nod and stay still again, letting Ellie wipe you clean. She presses a gentle kiss to your knee as she dresses you again, putting on your softest, most comfortable panties so it doesn't irritate your pussy further.

Abby is first to lie next to you, picking you up and rolling you over so you're laying on top of her. Your breasts are pushed up against Abby's clothed ones, her hands tracing circles around your back as Ellie stands above both of you, lathering lotion on your back.

You shiver at the temperature, but you adjust once her warm palms rub up and down your spine. Just minutes ago, they were fucking the life out of you. You almost fainted and forgot your name from how hard their straps were pounding into you simultaneously. And now they're treating you like a princess, giving you back rubs and gentle little kisses on every square inch of your skin they can find.

-

a/n: i'm so sorry this is so short, it's finals week and i've been super stressed so i had to literally wring this out of my brain. 😊

[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.

[vivwritesfics]

Set The World On Fire

Chapter Twenty

Lando Norris had been incredibly angry when they met. Incredibly angry, but sweet enough to help her. Turns out he just needed somebody to talk to, somebody to be there for him.

He was easy to fall for, and that put her in a world of danger

Mafia AU

3.4K

Warnings: smut, p in v, kidnapping

Series Masterlist

His arm was over her waist as light filled the bedroom. It was weird, wasn't it? The apartment had no sort of protection, but the two of them had never felt safer.

She moved closer to him and pressed a kiss to his bare chest. In the months since Oscar had died, Lando hadn't been back to the house. Any work he'd had to do had been done from the comfort of the apartment. That was when Lando was working.

The money he'd gotten from selling his club should have gone back into the Norris Family, but Lando kept it. He kept it for them, kept it to renovate the apartment. The decorations were much the same in every room but the bedroom. No, they'd made the bedroom their own. They'd bought a new bed, a new wardrobe, put new carpeting down and got new carpets.

Lando let out a groan when she removed his arm from her waist. "Baby," he grumbled, eyes still shut as he turned towards her. "Stay." He tried to wrap his arms around her again, but she quickly removed herself from his hold.

She leaned down and kissed the top of his head, easing his frown. "I'll be back in a moment, Lan," she whispered and kissed his lips. His slight moustache and the hair decorating his chin tickled her skin as she kissed him. But that was nothing compared to how it felt when his face was buried between her thighs.

Wrapped up in her fluffy robe, she walked out of the bedroom and through the apartment, heading for the kitchen. Lando hadn't redecorated the kitchen. He'd fixed the sink, gotten a new microwave, oven and coffee machine.

The hand towels she had picked out. They were cute with little green flowers that matched the rest of the kitchen. They went with the theme even more once she'd bought all of the plants. Lando didn't have a green thumb, yet.

She made herself a coffee and leaned against the counter as she waited for her mug to fill. Life had been bliss in the few months since they'd left the Norris house. There wasn't that constant fear that came with being surrounded by dangerous men and weaponry.

She'd never ask Lando to leave the Norris Family. It was what he'd been groomed to do his entire life; she didn't know what he knew anything outside of the Norris Family. But he'd been so much happier since he'd stopped working.

Releasing a sigh, she grabbed her coffee mug and heading back towards the bedroom.

Lando was sitting up when she walked in. He stretched his arms up and released a yawn from his lips. "I've got four missed calls from Max," he mumbled and rubbed his hand over his face.

She leaned against him and sipped her coffee. "Are you gonna see him before you go to visit your sister?" She asked as Lando ran his hands through her hair. It was so damn soothing that it had her shutting her eyes.

"I should," he mumbled and kissed the top of her hand. His arm settled around her, holding her against him. "I'm gonna," he said with a nod. "Yeah, I'm gonna."

They got themselves ready for the day. Lando didn't get dressed into his jeans. He got dressed into a pair of jeans and a white wife beater, snazzy jacket on top. He looked damn good with a chain around his neck and round sunglasses covering his eyes. Mouth wateringly good, actually.

She pulled him in and raked her hand through his hair, pushing it back. "I love it when you're not in suits," she whispered and kissed him.

His hands were on her thighs as he dropped her back onto the bed. He climbed on top of her, crawled between her legs. Immediately, she wrapped her legs around him, holding him against her. "Lan," she whispered as he leaned down to kiss her. "C'mon, you gotta get going."

"I don't," he mumbled and kissed down her neck.

But she pushed him. "Well, I do," she replied, smile playing on her lips. As she walked around the bedroom and got herself ready for the day, Lando trailed after her. He zipped up her skirt with teasing touches and stood behind her as she sat at her vanity, brushing through her hair.

Wrapping his arm around her, Lando walked her out of the apartment. "I'll drop you off," he said and took her down to the parking garage. She kissed him as the elevator took them down to the parking garage.

As Lando drove her to work, he kept his hand on her thigh. The windows were down and the music was loud. It was pure bliss.

She kissed him before she climbed out of the car. "I'll see you later," she said and backed out of the car before she could change her mind and return home with him.

Lando watched as she walked towards her office. He didn't know if the sway of her hips was intentional or not, but she was all his. All his.

Once she'd disappeared, Lando drove out of the car park. He didn't know what to do with his left hand now that she wasn't in his car, now that he couldn't put his hand on her thigh. She'd been gone for all of two seconds and he already missed her.

God, he was pathetic, and he loved it.

He drove through the gates, to the Norris house. The pink, flowery air freshener swung from his mirror, a little piece of her in his car. He killed the engine and climbed out, keys jangling as he shoved them into his pocket.

Nothing could kill his good mood.

There was slight chaos in the Norris house, but he didn't know that. He didn't know that everything had fallen to shit without him to lead.

Pulling his sunglasses from his face, he knocked on the door of Max's office. "Come in!" Max shouted, his voice strained.

Lando strode in. As soon as he saw the mess of Max's office, his face dropped. "What the hell did you do?" He asked, hooking his sunglasses over the neck of his wife beater.

"It's been a fucking mess since you took off," he said as he searched through his mess of paperwork. "Debts haven't been collected and we haven't been able to pay off the police so they're no longer on our payroll!" He stressed and pushed his hand through his hair. It did little to sooth him.

"Relax," Lando said and sat in the seat opposite Max. "I'll get someone to collect the debts. Did you do that thing I asked?"

Max glared, but he gave a nod. "Down in the kitchen," he said and Lando stood up.

He clapped Max on the shoulder and walked out of the office. He didn't miss this place. It might have been where he grew up, but he didn't miss it. This wasn't his home. Home was wherever she was.

***

The candles on the table were lit and something was bubbling away on the stove. She'd never walked in to a scene like this before. "Lando?" She called, dropping her bag by the front door. "What the hell is this?"

He quickly left their shared bedroom, shutting the door before she could get a glimpse inside. "Hi, baby," he said and marched towards her. Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her in and kissed her. "How was work?"

She looked towards the kitchen table. "What're you doing?" She asked, reaching up to gently tug at his curls. The moment she did, Lando let out a whine.

He pulled away, took her hand and pulled her towards the table. "Well, I thought we could have dinner before I go to Spain tomorrow," he said and pulled out a chair for her.

She didn't sit down immediately, not before throwing herself at him once again. Her lips touched every part of his face. "I love you, I love you, I love you," she said between kisses.

Lando gently sat her down. "Do you need any help with the cooking?" She asked when he returned to the stove. He checked his phone quickly and checked the spaghetti.

"I got it," he said and turned off the stove. He brought the spaghetti into the pan with what else he was cooking and added the sauce. "If it tastes like shit, I'll get us takeout," he promised and dished it up.

It wasn't the worst thing she'd ever eaten. There certainly was room for improvement, but she wasn't going to tell him that.

"Do you remember our conversation about getting a dog?" He asked her as he finished his dinner. It wasn't as good as he thought it was going to be. So much far Carlos's help.

She placed her fork down on her plate and grabbed her glass of water. "Uhm, I remember us saying that getting a dog was impractical until we know what's going on in our future," she answered.

Lando's expression dropped from his face. "Wait, really?" He asked and she nodded. "Well, shit. Shit, baby. I swear I remember that conversation ending different," he said, fiddling nervously with his fingers.

"Lando," she said gently, reaching across the table for his hand. "What did you do?"

She asked it so softly, so gently, that it had him standing up and walking over to their bedroom door. "I didn't want you here with no protection while I was in Spain," he explained with his hand on the door handle. "So, I had Max get us Bruiser."

"Bruiser?"

He pushed open the bedroom door and the dog running out.

Bruiser didn't much look like a guard dog. He didn't look like Bruiser. The Beagle came running out of the bedroom, a toy carrot held between his sharp teeth. His tail was wagging as he trotted up to Lando and sniffled him. Lando petted his head but Bruiser turned to investigate her.

"Hi," she said with a beaming smile as she let him sniff her hand. She turned that beaming smile to Lando as she scratched behind Bruiser's ears. "Oh, he's gorgeous, Lan," she said as his tail hit the table leg. "I love him!" She slipped onto the floor and Bruiser dropped his toy carrot in favour of licking her face. "You're such a lovely boy," she said to him. "Yes you are! Yes you are!"

Lando watched on. God, it was such a site. He'd been so worried, having Bruiser in the bedroom while they ate dinner. But she loved him, and that was all that mattered.

When she stood, Bruiser picked up his carrot toy and trotted after her. "You're the best," she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I think I'm gonna need to give you something for this."

His hands were on her back as she leaned closer and pressed her lips to his neck.

Lando pulled away from her. "Sorry, boy," he said as he walked past Bruiser. He blew out the candles on the table and filled Bruisers bowl. "You're gonna have to stay out here." He whistled and Bruiser walked over to him. "Go on boy, get in your bed," Lando said and Bruiser did just that.

Lando pulled her into the bedroom. He pushed the door shut behind her and immediately had her against it, his lips kissing down her neck. "I'm gonna miss you so much," he grumbled against her neck, his knee between he legs.

The noise she released was so damn desperate as she ever so slightly rocked her hips. Her hands travelled over his shoulders and up to his hair. Every time she tugged on his curls, it had him whining against her.

She pushed him away, pushed his hand enough that Lando fell back against the bed. Well, he could have stopped himself, he could have stayed standing up, but he didn't want to. As soon as the back of his legs touched the bed, he sat down and pulled her on top of him.

His grip on her was so damn tight as she kissed him. She held his face, help him still as her kisses barely touched his lips, teasing him. God, if she didn't stop soon...

She pulled away entirely and pulled her shirt over her head. Dropping it to the floor, she reached back and unclasped her bra. Fuck, he'd never get used to the site of that, the sight of her.

As soon as her bra was on the floor, he kissed down her chest. His teeth grazed her skin and he sucked a patchwork of bruises across her chest. "Love your tits," he mumbled with his eyes shut as he kissed down to her pebbled nipples.

Her back arched as Lando pulled them between his lips. "Oh fuck, Lan," she hissed, hips squirming as Lando paid each of her breasts special attention. He went from the left to the right and back again. Back and forth until she was using his curls to tug him away.

"I need you to fuck me," she whispered as she reached for his jeans. "Right fucking now."

Lando was only happy to oblige. He laid her down and pulled her skirt down her legs. There was no better site than this, than having her laid bare for him. If he could have, he would have had a picture of her like this, a painting of her commissioned to hang in his office. His gorgeous girl.

His touch was so gentle as he climbed on top of her. She wrapped her legs around him desperation clear, but Lando needed a moment. Just one moment with her before he railed her. He touched her, hands on her waist, thumb brushing over her skin. "You're so pretty, baby," he whispered, his expression so soft and affectionate as he looked at her.

"Gonna miss me while you're in Spain?" She whispered as she gazed into his eyes.

He dropped a kiss onto her forehead. "So damn much, baby."

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, she pulled out his phone. "Well, we're just gonna have to do something so that you don't miss me so much." She unlocked his phone and opened the camera.

His eyes were sparkling as he sat back and snapped pictures of her, looking so pretty in their bed. In their bed, in their apartment, with their dog in the other room. His life was fucking perfect.

Tossing his phone to the side, he pulled off his shirt and dropped his jeans. Still in his underwear, she could see just how much his cock was straining against the material. He climbed back on top of her, this time grinding himself against her.

"Lan," she whined, trying to push down his underwear. "It isn't fair."

He just laughed and dropped kisses to her chest. "Hang on, baby," he whispered, hips still moving against her.

Finally, he pulled away. He stood up and there was an undeniable wet patch on his underwear. "You're fucking soaked, baby," he whispered as he looked at her, looked between her legs. What a fucking sight.

He pushed down his underwear and climbed on top of her. Gripping himself, he nudged his tip through her folds, caught her clit. Even just this had her gasping for more. "Please," she whispered again and again until he pushed forward, sheathing himself inside of her.

The feeling of him was indescribable. She squeezed her eyes shut, legs clamping around him, holding him against her. His hands were so gentle against her face as he pushed her hair behind her ear and dropped kisses to her face.

Sex had gone like this since they'd moved into the apartment. It was loving, as if it was going to be the last time. It wasn't the last time, and the both of them couldn't help but feel silly after. But they couldn't help it.

His hips gently rocked against her, pushing himself in further. He pulled back only slightly before pushing back in. At no moment was she not full of him.

With his face buried in her shoulder, he sped up. Every time she moaned, every time she pulsed around him, Lando groaned against her and sped up. His hand fell into her own, lacing his fingers between hers as he held them above her head.

She cried his name over and over and over again. But that soon turned into incoherent noises, her legs squeezing him even tighter. Lando grunted against her skin as he hips began snapping against her own.

The bed creaked and squeaked, the headboard hitting the wall. It was so damn close, but neither of them cared. Lando kept going as her whines and cries became more and more high pitched. That coil tightened until she snapped, sending her over the edge.

"Holy fuck," Lando choked out. His thrusts slowed as she squeezed him. "I..." He choked out something of his own, something she couldn't understand, before he came, hips stuttering. He tried to keep moving, tried to stuff himself inside of her, to keep her full of him, but exhaustion was dragging him under.

Chest heaving, he fell against her. Lando unlaced his fingers from her own and repeatedly gave her kisses. "My gorgeous baby," he whispered, breath coming out in short puffs.

***

Lando was in Spain.

He'd jetted off two days ago, and she missed him so damn much. Her evenings after work had been spent on the sofa, cuddling up with Bruiser.

"Your daddy is the best," she said to Bruiser as she scratched behind his ears. "I can't want for him to come home."

The empty apartment was filled with the sounds of Bruisers tail hitting the sofa. He was perfectly content to lay there with his carrot toy, his head against his owners thigh. (Max had found Bruiser at a rescue centre. His owners had died and that was how he found himself at the rescue centre. The moment Max laid eyes on the Beagle, he knew he was the one for Lando. Bruiser was just happy to have a home again).

Her fingers itched as she looked towards the window. The sun was setting, the sky painted orange. She turned towards Bruiser. "Should we go on a walk?"

Immediately, Bruiser was on his feet as she grabbed his lead. She clipped it to his collar, grabbed her keys, and left the apartment.

Bruiser led the way. He didn't pull against the lead during their walk, but he stayed in front of her, taking her down the streets and to the park. The park. In the few days since Lando had brought him home, Bruiser loved the park. He'd met other dogs, sniffed their butts and chased them around.

He loved the park, loved the pretty Collie that was apart of the dog walking group he and his mum sometimes saw.

But the dog park was empty when they arrived. Bruiser let out a whine, sitting there and looking around as his mum unclipped the lead. As soon as he was released, he went trotting off.

His friends had been there, he could tell by the scents left behind. He sniffed at the trees, at the lampposts, seeing which of his friends had been there. Polly the pretty Collie had been there, as had Perdy and Pongo. Tim the Dachshund and his Pug brother, Ollie. All of his friends had been there, and he had missed it.

Bruiser did a little more exploring. There was another dog he had never met, but she snapped her jaw and her owner pulled her away. Defeated, Bruiser turned and went to find his mum.

He picked up her scent, followed it to the bench he had left her sitting on. Her scent was strongest there, but she wasn't there. But it wasn't just her scent. There was something sour, something unfamiliar, starting at the bench and leading towards the park exit.

His mothers scent went in that direction, too. Bruiser let out a whine and followed her scent towards the park exit.

But when he got there, a white van sped off, taking her scent with it. Bruiser barked, but his mum didn't hop out of the van, didn't come back for him. He couldn't do anything but bark and howl until somebody found him.

a/n: I'M SO DAMN SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!! buuut we're almost finished with this one. idk how this update was so big but i hope you guys like it!!

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[hypewinter]

Dick stared out at the snowy landscape past the window before turning back to his new baby brother. Danny was sitting in his high chair, happily munching away at some Cheerios. Looking at him now Dick thought back to how he had come to Wayne Manor just a few months prior.

Bruce had stormed into the Manor after coming back from a Justice League mission with a bundle in his hands. Dick who had stopped by the manor to steal food catch up with Alfred had been thoroughly thrown off by his father's open animosity. He could hardly recall the last time he'd seen Bruce this outwardly furious. The man's glare alone could rival Darkseid's omega beams. As Bruce sat down at the table, the two men finally got a good look at just what he was carrying. It was an infant. An infant who was fast asleep, his soft black hair falling over his eyes. Bruce quietly asked Alfred to prepare a room as well as all necessities needed for a baby. The old butler had immediately set off to just that.

Meanwhile Dick was quick to ask what had happened but Bruce didn't say. Even when the others gradually found what was happening and asked their own questions, he still refused to answer. Not even Alfred had been told where the baby had come from. The only information Bruce had offered up was that the baby's name was Danny and he would be staying at the Manor from now on. As for the rest of the details, he claimed he would tell them in due time. But Batman's "due time" was often too late to actually do anything about it so desperate for answers, the family had turned to their own investigations only to come up with nothing.

All files related to Danny were locked behind a mountain of firewalls and Oracle had apparently already been sworn to secrecy by the big man himself. Whatever it was, Bruce wanted absolutely zero interference, so for now, the family was forced to sit in their hands.

That led till now, 5 months later. It was mid-January and Dick was on babysitting duty. Everyone else was either out running errands or on a mission. Not that Dick minded though. Danny was incredibly cute and he loved taking care of him. Besides, it gave him the perfect opportunity to get Danny to see him as the favorite brother. Still, Dick couldn't help but feel couped up today. Maybe it was because it had been snowing the last few days leaving both boys alone in the giant manor all day long.

Dick stared wistfully out the window once again before an idea dawned on him. He turned back to Danny who had stuffed the last of the Cheerios into his mouth along with his entire hand.

"Hey Danny. Wanna have a snow day?" he asked cheerily. The boy cocked his head at Dick, hand still in mouth. Dick smiled wider. "I'll take that as a yes!"

Dick hoisted Danny out of his high chair and carried him upstairs to his room. After he set Danny down in his crib, he grabbed all the gear he needed. He picked out a long sleeve shirt with a cartoon star and big bold letters reading "You're a Star!" He also grabbed long socks, some elastic pants as well as jeans, a scarf, a blue beanie, and a pair of cute little mittens.

It didn't take long for Danny to be fully dressed for the outside elements. Though after Dick finished putting his shoes on, he squirmed a little and made a face.

"I know I know," Dick cooed. "But I'm pretty sure B. would make an exception to his 'no killing rule' if you got sick on my watch."

Dick admired his handy work for a minute (taking dozens of pictures as he did so) before picking his brother up and heading downstairs. After a quick pitstop at the door to grab his own jacket and gloves from the coat rack, he opened the door and greeted the chilly air outside.

Danny giggled as he reached up at the snow while Dick circled around to the side of the manor.

"Bitey! Bitey!" he squealed.

"Yep, Bitey," Dick replied with mild confusion.

Danny would say random things like that sometimes, forcing the world's greatest detectives to put their minds together in order to figure out what he was talking about. One time he just wouldn't stop saying "Em". It took everyone a whole day to realize he was referring to music. And an extra two days to figure out he was specifically referring to pop music.

Oftentimes he would call Barbara "Jazzy" and Duke "Tuck". On occasion he would even call Cass "Sammy". Every time he called something a new name, it was a race to figure out what he meant. Each time they figured out a new word, Bruce's face would darken and he'd disappear off to the Watchtower for the day. Something that was really starting to drag on Dick's nerves. It was like it was physically impossible for that man to share information.

Dick was startled out of his thoughts by a tug at his jacket and looked down to see Danny staring at him.

"Sorry sorry," he said with a smile. "Lost in my thoughts. Forgive me?"

Danny put on a pout but Dick knew by now that it was fake. One could tell by the mischievous look in the boy's eyes that he just couldn't hide. "So be it then!" Dick declared before pulling Danny close and snuggling into him. The boy shrieked as cold nose touched warm neck. "Fo-give! Fo-give!" he cried.

"Aw thanks," Dick said as he pulled away. Danny giggled again, his bright blue eyes crinkling with laughter.

The pair walked around in the snow for a bit longer before Danny started making grabby hands towards the ground. "You want down?" Dick asked. Danny nodded energetically.

"Alright."

Dick carefully set Danny down in the snow. The boy excitedly wriggled before putting his hands down to the snow. As Dick watched, there was a burst of light and suddenly there was a semi circle of ice, radiating out from their position. Dick stared at the ice in shock. Danny turned and blinked up at Dick, almost as if he were in shock too. But he very quickly went back to playing in the snow. Dick swallowed. Sure they all knew Danny had powers. It was pretty obvious when the third day there, he floated up to the ceiling. Still though, he highly doubted ice powers was up there on anyone's list of "abilities our new baby brother might manifest next."

Dick was so shocked all he could manage to utter was, "Huh. That's new."

[authorhjk1]

Black in the airport or pink princess of a kingdom?

Black

(Shin Ryujin X Male Reader)

"Go to the bathroom."

Ryujin reads your message. She swallows hard, knowing what you have in store for her. Usually the two of you engage in your shenanigans at the dorm. Or backstage, when you know no one will walk in. But here? At an airport? There were so many reporters here earlier.

"I'll be back in a second."

Yeji just nods in acknowledgement.

"Can you ask oppa if he can bring some snacks for the flight, I forgot mine?"

Ryujin almost feels caught. But Yuna's bright smile seems to innocent for her to know what's going on.

"Sure."

Ryujin quickly hurries to the restrooms. She steps inside the men's and is relived when no one but you is in there. You watch her enter through the mirrors on the wall above the sink.

"Are you wearing it?"

Instinctively Ryujin places her hand on her stomach.

"Yes.....master."

That last word leaves her lips only after some hesitation. With enough foreplay, Ryujin doesn't have a problem with your bedroom dynamic at all. But this is in public. And she is unsure of what to do or what to expect from you.

"Show me."

Ryujin hesitates, but then moves her dress. Lucky for her it already shows off her naked sides, now you can see the naval piercing you gave her a couple of days ago.

"You like it?"

Ryujin nods at your question.

"Good. Then you know what happens next."

You look at the piercing once more. It's not an ordinary one. And she can't wear it all the time for sure. You had it custom made, just for her. The silver letters spell "butt slut". It's obviously heavier than normal piercings, but Ryujin doesn't hesitate to put it in, whenever she can.

Now, she only hesitates for a second, before she reaches into her purse and takes out a small bottle of lube. You take off your pants and watch her pour a good amount of the clear liquid into her hand. Ryujin reaches down to stroke your shaft, covering it with the lube. Her warm hand feels amazing.

"Good girl."

You stroke her hair, which makes Ryujin crack a proud smile. Once you're hard enough, you motion for her to bend over the sink. You bite your lip as you watch how her firm ass is now tightly hugged by the black fabric of her dress.

"How is your workout routine doing? I don't want to put too much pressure on my favourite toy."

You softly stroke her ass cheeks.

"It's great, opp-"

You raise your hand, but Ryujin quickly corrects herself.

"-master. I just want you to enjoy my ass as much as possible."

You give one of her cheeks a slight squeeze.

"Good girl. Maybe next time you can show me what kind of workouts you do? I just want to make sure that ass of yours looks amazing while I use it."

"Of course, master. Is there any clothing you want to see me in in particular?"

You slowly push up the hem of her dress, while you respond.

"I think Yeji owns this amazing pair of red leggings. They make her butt look almost as good as yours. I'm sure she wouldn't mind if you borrowed them."

Stepping closer, you make your wet cock rest between Ryujin's cheeks, right above her hole.

"Thank you, master. I'll make sure to wear them."

You watch Ryujin's mouth fall open, when you finally push your tip past the tight ring of muscles. You distracted her little with your conversation and now caught her off guard. While she takes a couple of deeper breaths, you keep talking.

"Then again, the last time you walked around the dorm with a pair of leggings on, I ripped them apart."

You push in deeper, which makes Ryujin's nuckles turn white as she tightens her grip on the sink.

"I could just buy the exact pair. That way, you can do with them whatever you want."

Slowly picking up the pace, you enjoy Ryujin's pleasure wrecked face through the mirror.

"That's true. But I'm sure it would be fun to watch, while you explain to Yeji why her pants her torn open."

By now, it's getting harder for her to talk. Your cock in her ass pushes the air out of her body, whenever you thrust inside. And yet, it yearns for more, whenever you pull back again.

"Please, master. Yeji can't know you're using me."

"And why not?"

You give her right cheek a disapproving spank.

A moan leaves Ryujin's lips. The sight of her firm cheeks pressed against your crotch again and again makes you fuck her a little harder. You want to see her flesh ripple deliciously with every thrust.

"Because I don't want her to take my place. I want to be your only slut."

You hear the desperation in Ryujin's voice as her greedy asshole pulls you deeper inside of her, her tight walls gripping onto your cock.

"Alright then, buy a new pair."

"But make sure they're smaller than your normal size. I really want to see that sexy ass of yours."

You hear her sigh in relieve, which is cut short when you dig your fingers into her cheeks and pick up the pace further. Now Ryujin's head bobs with every thrust as she watches herself getting used through the mirror.

"I will...."

Ryujin can't finish her sentence, you fuck her a little too fast. You punish her by spanking her left cheek.

"I will, mas-master."

Now the image of Ryujin in Yeji's red leggings is ingrained into your brain. You imagine how she is doing a set of squats right in front of you. How that red fabric stretches over that delicious ass.

"Damn, slut."

You feel your orgasm slowly approaching. Even after having fucked Ryujin's ass hundreds of times, it still amazes you how tight it is. It never fails to make you cum way sooner than you expected.

"I'm gonna ruin that ass throughout the whole trip. You might as well wear nothing while you're at the hotel."

"I will, master."

The idea of Ryujin walking around naked finally does it for you.

"Fuck."

You groan as you manage to pull out of her snug hole. You aim at her ass and shoot your load all over her plump cheeks. Her flawless skin is now stained with ropes of your cum.

"And you better not skip any workouts, just because we're not at home."

You spank her one last time for good measure, before turning around and leaving the restroom.

[joelsprettyprincess]

Run, Rabbit, Run

Pairing: low honor!Arthur Morgan x f!virgin!reader Summary: Arthur Morgan has done countless things for you. He decides that you owe him a big, fat favor. Tags: dub-con smut (reader is coaxed into sex), age gap (early 20s/mid-thirties), slight manipulation, oral sex, unprotected piv, dirty talk, pet names, slight daddy kink, corruption kink, loss of virginity, aftercare Wordcount: 4.2k A/N: I know I'm supposed to be working on my stalker Joel fic but I just had to get this out, Arthur is such a cutie pie I couldn't resist. All constructive criticism is appreciated and once again MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! Also @thoughts-of-bear I know you wanted to be tagged so here you go 🩷

"C'mere, baby. You see it?"

Arthur beckoned you closer to him. The two of you were hunched in the grass, hunting a particularly nimble deer. 

You crawled over to his broad, muscular form. He was pointing to where the deer was loitering and looking around. 

You and Arthur had been trailing this deer for a while now; it was healthy and big, and would make good food for the gang. But every time one of you got too close, it skittered away.

Hunting this deer was important to you. Ever since the Van Der Linde gang had taken you in, 6 months ago, you were desperate to prove your worth.

Arthur Morgan had saved your life on that fateful day. A couple of crazed thieves had ambushed you and your father on the way to a town near your run-down cottage. They'd demanded all your goods and your father refused, instead drawing his gun. A shootout occurred, leading to your father being killed– struck in the chest with a bullet.

The only reason you escaped with your life was because Arthur and Micah had happened to be in the same area. Hearing your screams for help, they'd ridden down the hill and saw the thieves handling you roughly, stripping you of your belongings as your father bled out just a few feet away.

Two more shots rang out, one from each of your saviors, and the men went down quickly.

"You alright, miss?" Arthur asked, though of course at the time you didn't know his name.

"I- no, my- please," you blubbered incoherently, gesturing at your father.

They went over to him, but he was already gone. The bullet had killed him instantly.

Micah and Arthur stayed in town for several days. They helped you report his body so he could get a proper funeral and possibly justice by the law. After the service, Arthur took you back to the bare cottage you had called home since your childhood.

You stood on the porch, profusely thanking him for everything he had done. "I really can't thank you enough," you said. "If it weren't for y'all, I'd be a goner..."

"'S no trouble," Arthur assured you. He put his black hat back on his head. "Anything else you need? Food, drink?"

"No, you've done so much already," you sighed. "Thank you. I really mean it."

He nodded. "I'm glad we could help. But if you don't need anythin' else, I'll be on my way."

"Alright. Thank you, Mr. Morgan!"

You watched him walk towards his horse, then turned back to your doorstep.

You put your hand on the doorknob, and immediately jerked it away. The knob felt cold to the touch, despite it being late spring. 

You discovered that you couldn't open the door. Not that it was locked— you physically couldn't open it. Your hand wouldn't turn.

Looking back, you saw Arthur loading his horse's satchel.

A lump formed in your throat. You swallowed it away, and tried to will yourself to open the door, to no avail.

You stood there for a second, then made a split decision.

Turning around, you ran back onto the road where Arthur was just starting to leave.

"Arthur!" you called, running as fast as you could in your dress. "Mr. Morgan, wait!"

Arthur looked back and saw you clutching your skirts. He slowed his horse and turned around, trotting back.

"Need somethin'?" he asked.

You hesitated, then nodded. "I...I want to come with you."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Pardon?"

"To your...group. I want to join...if that's okay with you?"

Arthur got a funny look on his face. "I...uh– look, darlin'," he began awkwardly. "That's not a good idea. I haven't been completely honest with you. Our group is more like a gang."

"A gang?" you asked confusedly. All he had told you was that he and Micah were part of a group that traveled all around the country.

He scratched his neck. "We do things that are...not quite legal."

What? "Wait, so you're...a criminal?"

He nodded.

You stood there, thinking. "So have you...never mind. Um...I still want to join."

This time both his brows shot up. "Really? Do you understand what you're askin', young lady?"

"Please, Mr. Morgan. I can't go back there...I can't go live in that house if my father isn't there with me. I don't have anything left 'cept my horse. Please let me come with you."

He sat on his saddle, thinking. Finally he muttered, "Fine. But it's not up to me. I'll take you up to the camp and you can ask Dutch."

You smiled and almost giggled when he said that. The prospect of experiencing a totally different life appealed to you as a way to heal from what had happened. 

Arthur sighed. "Alright. Get on your horse, darlin'."

And the rest was history. Dutch allowed you to stay, with Arthur as your unofficial guardian. 

He had to teach you almost everything. You'd worked as a bargirl since you became an adult, so the only thing you were really skilled at was putting drunkards out on their asses.

Well, that, and gardening. You loved to forage for herbs to use in recipes and medicine.

But everyone had to contribute. Arthur taught you how to shoot a gun first. You'd only ever shot your father's pistol a few times. He felt it wasn't appropriate for a lady to own a firearm, so you had never learned.

You and Arthur spent days just shooting at random things, working on your aim and grip. It had been a learning curve but eventually you mastered the basics.

He also showed you the ways of the gang. Most of the women took part in thievery and spying, not actual fighting. So you learned that, with Tilly serving as your guide.

And of course you were learning to hunt. Setting a trap was something you already knew, but it was slow and not as reliable as a proper weapon.

That was why the two of you had been trailing this particular deer for so long. You were determined to bring something to Pearson.

"We may have to try an' hit it from here," Arthur whispered. "Seems like it senses us from so far away."

You nodded and very slowly unsheathed your bow and arrow. This was your preferred weapon; it was whisper quiet and smooth.

Lining up the shot, you pointed the arrow straight at the deer's chest, breathing lightly.

"Easy," Arthur whispered. He was beside you, his breath ghosting over your ear. "Take your time."

You waited a second, then released the arrow. It sailed through the air, going straight towards the deer. It looked up at the last second, and by then it was too late. The arrow struck and the deer fell.

You gasped. "I did it! Finally!"

Both of you stood up. You skipped through the grassy turf to observe your kill, ecstatic at finally landing a clear shot.

It was a really good one. The arrow had struck almost dead center, ensuring the deer suffered for no more than a few seconds.

"You did good, sweetheart," Arthur praised you. "I'm proud."

You smiled and blushed at his approval. "Thanks," you said. "It was really you. If you hadn't taught me I would still be shit with a bow." 

He chuckled. "I'm flattered, but that was all you, baby. You've learned so much." He paused. "But you know what, I have been a big help, haven't I? You owe me a few favors, don't you?" He laughed loudly.

You laughed as well. "Probably, but I dunno how I'd pay you back. There's nothing you can't do for yourself."

He shrugged, grinning. "I can think of a couple things. I'll figure somethin' out."

You chuckled again, assuming he was joking. 

The two of you stowed the deer onto the back of Arthur's horse. 

"Listen, sweetheart," Arthur started, leaning against his horse. "It's getting a bit later in the day and the camp is quite a ride from here. Whaddya say we set up camp right here and set out in the mornin'?"

You looked up. The sun was well past its peak by now, and there were golden orange and pink hues in the horizon.

"Plus you'll get a break from all the jabberin' from everyone," he added, chuckling.

"That sounds great," you agreed. You had camped with Arthur a few times before. He was a good partner to have.

"Shit's settled then," he grunted. "Let's ride down to that creek to wash up, then we can start a fire somewhere." Arthur helped you onto your horse and patted your leg before getting on his own.

You spurred your horse, Desdemona, into action, and she set off behind Arthur's horse.

There was a deep creek (or maybe it was a shallow river?) a few minutes away, where you and Arthur scrubbed the blood and dirt off your arms while the horses drank.

You glanced at Arthur and saw that he was looking at your arms. "What?" you asked.

He shook his head. "Nothin'. Yer hands, they're just so...delicate."

You had never noticed before, but now you could see that compared to Arthur's large grizzled hands, you were really soft– not just physically but mentally.

"It's 'cause I'm useless," you joked. "Just like Pearson said."

He looked sharply. "Pearson said what?"

"Oh– nothing, just...well, it's nothing," you muttered.

"Tell me what he said," Arthur said firmly.

You hesitated, not wanting to be a snitch. "Well, he just said that I don't really contribute much...but I mean, he's right! I don't do much. That's why I wanted to hunt today."

Arthur didn't say anything for a bit, then he said in a low voice, "I'll have a talk with him."

You felt bad. "You don't have to."

He didn't answer, and instead stood up. "You ready?" 

You stood as well, finishing drying your hands on your cloth. "Yup."

Arthur got back on his horse and continued down the trail, with you following closely behind. Within a few minutes, he located a bit of flat dry land on which to set up camp.

The horses were hitched to a nearby tree and given their supper. You worked on lighting a fire while Arthur refilled your water containers.

Both of you had lunches packed, fortunately. Arthur said he wanted to leave the deer untouched until you got back to camp.

You sat on the grass and ate your sandwich. Arthur shared some of his jerky with you. He also offered you a sip of alcohol, which you accepted and almost immediately spit out.

The two of you spent some time at the fire, eating and looking at the slowly advancing sunset.

Without looking at you, Arthur took your hand in his and gently rubbed your knuckles.

You didn't think too much of it. He'd held your hand before and said it didn't mean anything, it was just a sign of your companionship.

Arthur was strange sometimes, you thought. Here he was appreciating a sunset, when just last week he'd stumbled into camp covered in blood– and only some of it was his.

You knew the reality of life in the Van Der Linde gang. The men made no attempt to hide their actions from you, least of all Arthur. In fact, you sometimes wondered if he sought out violence on purpose. The looks he gave you when came back from a long day of lawbreaking were...interesting, to say the least. Like a wolf observing a clueless rabbit.

But on the other hand, he was a man of hidden beauty. You'd found his journal soon after you arrived, and in the 10 seconds before he snatched it away, you read the words written in neat cursive and surprisingly good sketches.

He also sometimes went foraging with you, and seemed just as interested in the herbs as you were.

As for the handholding, you didn't know how to feel about it. He only did it when the others weren't around, and you knew it usually had romantic notions. But you knew it could have friendly notions as well.

Arthur Morgan was complicated, that was for sure. He made your thoughts jumble and your face heat up as you tried to piece together his psyche. He was handsome for sure, way more good-looking than anyone else in camp.

Still, though, you didn't think it was appropriate to explore those feelings. It was...weird. He was quite a bit older than you, after all, and your relationship was more of a teacher-student one.

Well, whatever your feelings were, you were certain he knew not to encourage them.

Deep down, he was a good man.

-

You had been watching the sunset for a few minutes when Arthur spoke in a low voice.

"Sweetheart, I've been thinkin'."

"Mhm?" you asked.

"About how you can repay me."

"Oh? I thought you were joking," you giggled.

He chuckled, then cleared his throat. "Well, I've done so much for you, I feel like you should do somethin' for me, yeah?"

"Yeah, I suppose so," you replied. "What do you want? Money?"

"Not quite." Arthur took your hand, still encased in his, and placed it between his thighs.

You felt something stiff but pliable pressing against your palm. "O-Oh," you said, heart pounding. 

"It's the least you could do," he said. "Are you...have you done this before?"

"...Yes," you whispered. "Twice. But...I don't..."

Arthur used his other hand to unbuckle his pants and pull them down a bit. He moved your hand to rest on his boxers.

"Arthur, I–"

"You owe me," he said. "All the times I covered your ass. Not to mention I saved your life."

Your pulse was quickening rapidly. You were getting a bit scared at his change of tone. "I don't think this is...appropriate," you spoke carefully. 

"Why not? We're both adults," he said flippantly.

"I just–"

"You can't do this one little thing for me, babydoll?" he asked. "It's not a big deal."

You stayed silent and thought about what to do. The only sound was the trees rustling.

Arthur slipped your fingers underneath his boxers. Your fingertips pressed against his groin.

You gasped and inadvertently jerked. 

Immediately, he was calming you. "Shh, s'okay, don't panic, baby. Just let it happen..."

You remained still as Arthur pulled down his boxers and let his half-hard cock spring out.

Your breath quickened. You weren't that experienced, but even you could tell he was big. It was just a bit longer than your hand length, and the girth looked almost scary.

Arthur could tell you were nervous. "Hey, it's okay, babydoll. Look at me."

You met his gaze. His normally bluish-green eyes had darkened.

"Is...is this...normal?" you asked confusedly. "I thought..." You trailed off uncertainly.

"Thought what, darlin'?" he prompted.

"I dunno. It feels weird..." You couldn't explain it.

"This is very normal, I promise you. Yer daddy tell you about what married folks do?"

"Not really," you admitted. "But I know some things. And...I did a little."

"Well then, you know how good it feels. 'S nothing to be afraid of. I'll be gentle, I promise. We don't even have to go all the way."

He placed your hand on his fat shaft and left it here. "Just use your hand, baby. Up and down."

You started off uncertain at first, giving tiny strokes, then Arthur intervened and showed you just how he liked it: a nice, fast stroke.

"Don't be shy, now," he said. 

After he removed his hand you tried to match the speed. This felt really weird. Although you did find Arthur attractive, you kind of had relegated it to a silly fantasy. A pipe dream. 

This was all just happening so fast.

He sighed and shifted closer to you, so your legs were pressed together. Then he said in a husky voice: "Put some spit on there, darlin'."

You hesitated and paused. "S..spit?"

He nodded. "Use yer mouth. You never did that before?"

"Just once... but is this okay? Will Dutch get mad?"

He laughed. "Dutch? He ain't got nothing to do with this. This is somethin' special just for the two of us. "

Arthur grasped your neck and pushed your face towards his stiff tip. When your mouth was inches away from it, he said, "Now just relax your mouth, don't use your teeth. Just use your tongue."

He pushed further until your lips were against his shaft. You parted them and allowed him to enter your mouth.

Arthur inhaled sharply and sighed. "That's right. Good girl...g'on and suck it..."

Only a few inches were in your mouth, but you already felt full. You struggled to swipe your tongue over it, and tried to suck it as best as you could. Horribly lewd noises came out of your mouth, and you were embarrassed.

Arthur roughly grasped your hair and pushed down, forcing more of his thick cock down your throat.

You made a noise and pulled away, gasping for breath. Arthur allowed you to breathe for a second before coaxing your mouth back onto his cock.

By this time it was early evening and the sun had almost completely disappeared. The first stars were appearing.

"Suck it good, just like that," Arthur moaned while you struggled to fit him in. You found it most comfortable to just suck the tip, but he clearly wanted more than that. After a minute, he was pushing your head down again.

You tried to lift your head but Arthur didn't let you. He rubbed your back. "Shh, s'okay, you're doing great," he whispered. "Just relax. Relax, babydoll."

You kept sucking and slurping with your tongue. It still felt weird, but it did feel good. Arthur smelled like the outdoors, which wasn't that bad.

"Keep using yer hand too," he reminded you.

The length that wasn't in your mouth was encased by your fingers. You moved them as much as you could.

You had this sudden need to please him. Actually, it wasn't sudden at all. You lived for Arthur's praise. Whenever he taught you something new, you tripped over your feet to prove yourself. It made your day when he said "good girl", or "I'm proud of you." 

It was the same here. Though you were still a bit apprehensive about this, your need to satisfy him overruled it. 

And he wasn't shy with the praise. Dirty words from his lips, his chest heaving in and out as you attacked his fat cock with your tongue.

Arthur started pushing and pulling your head, using you almost like an object. Your lips slid up and down his throbbing shaft and the speed of it made it difficult for you to focus on breathing.

He pushed and pushed until your mouth was almost pressed against the hair at the base. Holding it there, he muttered, "That's right. Choke on daddy's cock." 

You choked, and desperately tapped his leg and made noises before he finally let go.

You shot up off his cock, coughing and blinking. Drool ran out of your mouth.

"Ah...haah," you breathed, wiping off your lips. Did he really just call himself...?

"Good," he praised. "You're doin' so well for me, sweet girl."

Arthur stared at you, transfixed by the spit smeared around your lips and the bewildered look in your eye. 

He needed more.

Arthur gently maneuvered your body to lay on the blanket under you, then pulled up your skirts.

"Wh-what?!" you gasped. "I thought you weren't-"

He put a finger to your lips. "Shh, it's okay, baby, I promise. Just lay still."

You lay there as he pulled off your shoes and bloomers.

Arthur traced the outline of your cunt and you shuddered. 

"You ever been touched here before?" he asked.

You wordlessly shook your head.

He whistled lowly. "Good."

Arthur took his pants off completely and lay down on you– but his head was between your legs. He pulled your underwear off– the last layer. You shivered a little as the cool evening air hit your bareness. 

Using his hands, Arthur kept your legs spread and started using his tongue. You were completely shaken by the sudden pleasure blooming and cried out.

"Arthur–!" Your hands found his hair and grasped it, needing some sort of grounding.

He continued eating you out, sparing no pleasure. Your legs squeezed around him but his arms kept them spread.

You tried to moan quietly, but it felt too good. Your hips rocked against his face and grinded your cunt on his lips.

He added a finger, and it was like you'd died and ascended. You were seeing stars.

"Arthur, Arthur, please," you gasped, not even knowing what you were begging for. It was sinfully good.

"That's my good girl," he whispered, replacing his tongue with another finger. "Damn, you're a tight squeeze. Fuckin' creamin' all over daddy's fingers, ain't you?"

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought it was strange how he kept calling himself that, but you were too overwhelmed to care. Maybe you even kind of liked it.

"Yes...yes," you whined.

After just a couple more minutes, the pressure that had been building in your stomach was very quickly released, in the form of you reaching your peak and soaking his fingers and the blanket, crying out in ecstasy the whole time. Your own fingers shot down, encouraging your cunt to ride out the full orgasm.

After what felt like an hour, you finally opened your eyes to see Arthur smiling at you. 

"Never seen nothin' like that before, baby," he said huskily. "You sure you're a virgin?"

You giggled nervously. "I am."

"Hard time believing that," he remarked, wiping off his mouth. Then he shifted positions, so he was on his knees in front of your cunt, towering over you. His cock stood at the ready, still just as hard and leaking precum.

"You ready?" he asked.

"What- we're not done? There's more?" you gasped.

"Course there's more. I gotta get off too, don't I?" Arthur laughed. He tapped his tip against your still throbbing cunt.

You got scared again. "W-wait, Arthur, I don't think it's gonna fit- Ah!" 

Ignoring your words completely, Arthur pushed his cock into your soaked hole. You cried out at the stretch and the warmth. He was fucking big, much thicker than his fingers.

He coaxed in about half of it before pausing to breathe. Your eyes were tightly shut and you were gripping the blanket, breathing heavily. 

Arthur leaned down and gently kissed your lips.  He put his hands on your shoulders and slowly started thrusting in and out, enjoying the loud, creamy noises that were being produced.

If getting fingers was the pinnacle of pleasure, this was completely supernatural. You had no idea a person could feel like this.

It did hurt a bit, even with Arthur prepping you beforehand. He went slow enough at first, but he was impatient. Soon he was speeding up, desperate to feel every inch of your tight, warm hole.

Very quickly his cock was coated in your juices, allowing him to more easily fuck you. And this was definitely fucking, not making love. He growled lowly in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. 

The force of his thrusts made your breasts bounce up and down. One of his hands went down the front of your dress and fondled your breast.

"Good girl," he mumbled. "Good fuckin' girl. Gripping me so nice. So sweet...my special girl. Fuck...I never wanna leave this pussy. You're daddy's special cocksleeve, yeah? You want that?"

You whined desperately, arms scratching his broad back. Lucky he still had his shirt on, or he'd have scratches all over.

"Please, Arthur," you gasped, eyes rolling from pleasure. "I-I- mm–"

Another orgasm washed over you. You gripped his cock tight, milking it, barely letting him thrust in and out.

He chuckled. "Gripping me like that, you're fuckin' begging for me to fill you up. You want that, princess?" He slapped your face. "Dirty slut."

His sudden change of tone surprised you, but you couldn't say it didn't totally turn you on. But he'd reminded you of something.

Between moans you gasped, "What– about a, a baby?"

Arthur didn't answer, bent on reaching his climax.

"Arthur!" you cried, getting nervous.

"I'm close," he muttered. "Lay still, babygirl, lay still."

You were scared he was going to finish inside you. "Arthur, please! Please–"

"Fuck,"  he growled, pulling out at the last possible second. He was just barely able to scramble upwards before his cock twitched and he came, letting out thick spurts on your breasts.

Arthur grabbed your hand and you jerked him off together, both of your hands quickly stroking him. He let out a couple more thick ropes, which landed on your face.

Once he had let out the last of his cum, Arthur let your hand go and breathed heavily.

"You're so beautiful," he breathed. He grabbed a nearby cloth and used it to wipe your face off, then kissed you deeply.

You kissed him back, stroking his hair.

-

The two of you wiped down everything as best as you could, using damp cloths. 

You shared the tent that night, bodies pressed together.

"I love you," Arthur mumbled. "My special doll."

His hand found yours and squeezed it.

Your life would never be the same.

[needy-boycunt]

Since it's the Christmas Season~ CNC, non-con, daddy kink, age gap, daddy for little boy, daddy dressing up as Santa

I can't wait for Christmas. Daddy said since I've been so good all year that Santa will surely give me an extra special gift! When Christmas Eve comes, I leave out cookies and milk. Dad tucks me in and tells me to stay in my room until morning. I promise him I will.

It takes me forever to fall asleep! I'm just so excited! I can't wait to open all my presents with daddy! Once I do fall asleep, a noise downstairs wakes me up. It sounds like someone walking around... I immediately know it must be Santa! I know I promised dad to stay in my room, but I have to sneak a peek at Santa! I quietly sneak out of my bedroom and go downstairs. I accidentally step on the creaky step on my way down and I freeze. The noises in the living room stop.

After a moment, I hear a voice call my name from the living room. It doesn't sound quite like daddy, so it has to be Santa! I answer back, and run into the room. Santa is knelt infront of our pretty tree placing wrapped up presents! I'm so excited seeing him that I run up and hug him.

Santa hugs me back and asks why I'm not in bed. I get embarrassed and tell him I promised my daddy I'd stay in bed, but I just had to see him.

Santa looks at me, and for a moment he looks really familiar, but then he speaks. "That's okay. This will be our little secret." He chuckles and pats my head. "I have an extra special gift for you, it will be better to give it to you in person, since you've been such a good boy this year."

Santa tells me to close my eyes so he can give me my special gift and I do. I can fee my heart beating extra fast. After a moment, Santa takes my hand and places it on something warm. I open my eyes, and look down to see my hand on Santa's cock. My face gets red and hot and my little boy cunt starts to tingle.

"Santa?" I ask. But he shushes me.

"You've been a good boy," Santa whispers. He keeps his hand over mine, making me stroke his cock the same way I'd stroke daddy's. "Let Santa give you this special present, little one."

My heart beats so fast in my chest and I nod. Soon, Santa let's go of my hand and I stroke his cock just like I would daddy's. Daddy gets awful jealous when other men talk to me, but this is my present from Santa! It would be rude to say no. Santa might take away my presents if I did, or put me on the Naughty List forever.

Santa's cock is big and hard. My cunt gets so wet just by rubbing it. After a while, Santa takes my hand and stops me.

"Now, little one." Santa says. He puts his big hands on my shoulders and smiles at me. "You know how you come to sit on my lap and tell me what you want every year?"

"Yes!" Daddy always takes me to the mall to see Santa. It's so fun. Daddy takes my picture and then we spend the whole day shopping. He always takes me home and plays with me afterwards, he fills me up with his yummy cum and tells me how I look just like an iced Christmas cookie. I think it's so silly, but I love my Daddy.

Santa's eyes twinkle, his hands slide down my chest until they stop at the top of my PJ bottoms. "You're going to sit on my lap just like that again, and I promise I'll make you feel very good." His fingers dip under my bottoms and begin to tug them down. "Feeling good and full of joy is the best present I can give you."

I want the present, I want to be good and make Santa happy. I don't want him to take away my presents. "But what if daddy sees us?" I ask, Santa has pulled my bottoms and little boxers down now. He can see my little boy cunt. "Daddy will be mad..."

"Your daddy is sound asleep, don't worry." Santa chuckles. "I have a special present for him, too. But he'll get his in the morning. What do you say, little one?" Santa asks me. "Do you want your present?"

I think really hard for a second... And then I nod.

"Good boy," Santa lifts me up just like daddy does, and turns me around so I can't see him. With his big cock already out, all he has to do is slowly put me down. It's a bit hard at first, but it doesn't hurt when it goes in. Daddy has stretched me out so well that it almost never hurts when I take his big adult cock.

I cover my mouth with my hands as Santa begins to fuck me. I moan and cry while he calls me a good boy. "You're at the top of my Nice List," Santa whispers in my ear as he bounces me on his cock. "The best little boy in the whole wide world, that's why this present is for you."

Santa's words make me feel so good and happy, my cunnie feels even wetter. I try not to moan too loud because I don't want to wake up daddy. Santa calls me all sorts of good things as he moves me up and down on his cock. Finally, Santa tells me something.

"Here's your present, little one." Santa moans softly, forcing me down again and again on his cock. He drives it deep into my boy pussy. "Such a special little boy, you get the best present of all. I'm going to fill you up and you'll never feel empty again."

My hands fly from my mouth when Santa unloads his yummy cum into my boy cunt. It's such a good present, it feels so good. My little cunnie throbs around his big cock and I feel so full and good!

Breathing heavily, Santa takes me off his cock and stands me up. My feet wobble, but I can stand. Daddy trained me not to fall over even when my cunnie and legs were tired.

"I hope you enjoyed your present," Santa said. He puts his adult cock away and pats me on the shoulder. "But you must go to bed now, little one. So, you can wake up with your daddy and spend Christmas with him."

"I loved it lots, Santa!" I whisper. I still feel needy. Santa didn't make me cum like daddy always does, but it's late and now I'm feeling tired. "Thank you."

Santa nods at me, and helps me pull my PJ bottoms and boxers on before sending me back up to bed. I can feel his thick cum dripping out of my pussy and falling into my underwear. My insides feel so wet and squishy.

I crawl into bed and fall asleep much faster than I did the first time. I sleep so good, that I don't wake up on my own. Daddy is in my room and nicely shaking me awake.

"Kiddo, c'mon, Santa's come!"

My head is sleepy, but when I hear daddy's voice, something in my tummy flips in a good-feeling way.

I sit up in bed, my cunnie still feels really wet. I try to act excited, but since Santa didn't make me cum, I feel needy.

Daddy must see how something is wrong. "You didn't go downstairs last night, did you, baby?" He asks.

I quickly shake my head and smile. "No, daddy!"

Daddy looks at me and slowly smiles. "Of course you didn't, little one." He laughs, and my cunnie twitches. "Come on, let's see if Santa brought you your special present."