#so i'm left no option but to turn the interaction over and over in my mind while i think about what a fucking loser i was

[darthannie]

purpose statement

part two of thesis statement

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader

Summary: After spending the night at your professor’s house, you’re left wondering what the hell you’re gonna do next.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is 24, Jim is 43), morning sex, kissing, praise, dom!Jim, p in v, oral, budding d/s relationship(?)

a/n: I’m back. Kinda! I'll make a post about it! But, here's part two of thesis statement! Read the first one if you'd like. Jim english professor confirmed (to me lol). I might turn this into a series but I'm not too sure yet. This one ends with kind of a cliffhanger, so there might be a part three. Anywho, enjoy!

A leg drapes over yours.

A hand grabs your stomach.

Warm air hits the back of your neck.

His nose softly brushes across your shoulder as he presses a kiss there. And all through this, you’re just barely awake. You sigh into the feeling, pressing your back against his chest. You didn’t know what time it was, and you couldn’t care less. He tightend his embrace. You try to scoot closer to him as if that was even possible. You wanted to be completely engulfed by him. You had a ton of questions, but for now, you were mute. This was as good as it was going to get. After a minute, you manage to turn around and face him before burying youself in his chest.

“Mornin’”, he sighs. 

“Ugh, what time is it?” 

“Doesn’t matter.” He kisses the top of your head as silence settles around the both of you. 

“What’s going through your head?”, he asks. 

“Why were you in the shop that day?”

“Well… It was part dare and part curiosity. And another part of me wanted to try out a toy for the first time.”

“You left in quite a rush.”

“Well, yes a certain student graced me with her presence.”

You blush and meet his eyes, remembering the interaction. “Did you go back?”

“Oh, no.” he chuckles. 

“Why not.”

“I have my toy right here.”

“Jim…”, I said faining annoyance and rolling my eyes at him

“Sorry, sorry that was lame. However, you have to admit it’s true,” his voice darkens, “Are you gonna go home and touch yourself or would you rather have the real thing?”

Your breath hitched. “I-I’d rather have the real thing.” You placed your hand on his chest as if to confirm his existance. He was real and you were indeed in bed with him. In bed with your professor. 

He kissed your forehead, “Right. That’s exactly right… Class is cancelled by the way.” He said it so matter-of-factly. Like it was as easy as that. And, apparently, it was. 

“Check your email.”

You rolled over and grabbed your phone that was magically plugged into a charger, Jim’s doing. You opened up your email and there it was. Among spam emails about the latest 20% off sale at the campus store was an email from Jim. 

“Due to unforeseen circumstances, class today is cancelled. See you all next week ready to work. Best, Jim”

You dropped your phone on the bed. “Jim… What? Why?”

“Because I would rather spend my day in bed with a beautiful woman.” He pulled you into a kiss. “Is that a crime?”

“Well, I just thought-“ You’re cut off by a hand reaching down to you hip. His other hand squeezes between the mattress and your body. You yelp as he guides you to straddle him. You help him along and he looks up at you, teasing you as he cocks his head to the side. “You thought what?”

Your hands lay on his chest. You feels him hard under you. “I thought it was a one night thing. I thought that was it.”

“Oh, no, love I meant it when I said you were mine. I mean. If you want to be of course.”

“What like a friends with benefits situation?”

He tilted his head side to side as if weighing his options. “Yeah, something like that.”

You jaw unhinged to speak but no sound came out. You sat back on his lap, feeling him dig into you a bit more. He spoke before you could muster anything up, “You don’t have to make a decision right now. I don’t want to force you into any type of arrangement or anything. However-“

“However,” you grinded your hips, “what?”

He held in a groan, “However, I really want to be inside you right now, love… Please…” His hands rested on your thighs and he lifted his hips to show you how much he wanted it. He pulled you down into a kiss and wrapped his arms around you. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled him away to make room. You moved down to kiss his neck. His breath got caught in his throat as you liked a stripe up his neck and reached down under the covers. He let out a hiss as your hand went under his underwear and wrapped around his cock. 

“How are you already so hard?” You woke up ready to tease and he only bucked his hips up in response as you released him.

“Baby, please-“

“Please what?”

He moaned again. “I need-“

“Need what?”

He exhaled, “Fuck.” He flipped her over so she was on her back. He hungrily kissed her neck and nipped at her ear. He grabs onto one of her tits and feels the weight of it in your hand. He moves down to suck on it as she moan his name. He pulls back up and kisses your lips. “Tell me I can take what I want.”

“Jim, I-“

“Tell me, love. Tell me I can take whatever I want.”

You have never been more turned on in your life. You looked him in the eye and say “You can take whatever you want.”

You didn’t even realize he was lining himself up with your wet hole. He plunged into you right as you finished your sentence. He moves in slow thrusts and focuses on you, wanting to see take in you expression. 

He looks down at your body. He wants nothing more than to worship every inch. Everything about this is wrong. It should have been avoided at all costs, but instead of focusing on that he focuses on draging his hand the curve of you hips. He focuses on how your breast fits perfectly in his hand. He focuses on the taste of your lips. It doesn’t matter how wrong this is. He wants all of you.

You’re sweating. Your hair is messy. Nothing about you is put together, and he thinks you are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because you are so fucking gorgeous.” He kissed her right as he finished his sentence. 

“You’re amazing,” he kissed your cheek, “and you’re a damn good writer.”

He whispered the last part into your ear and kissed your neck. Your giggle turned into a moan as you felt him shift to a new spot inside of you, suddenly hitting where you needed him most.  A groan left him as he repositioned himself, thrusting harder and moving to cup your face. Desperate. He was desperate for you.

You pulled him closer to you, needing to feel his body against yours again. He picked up the pace when your fingers laced through his hair, guiding his mouth to your neck. Your other hand firmly held is arm to brace yourself for an orgasm that has yet to come. He nipped at your neck, careful not to leave marks. All the sensations at once motivated you to let go of his arm and reach for your clit. He chuckled and removed your hand from between your bodies, earning him a whimper. He pinned your arm above your head. 

“Ask me.” You only whimpered in response. 

“Go ahead, use your words. Ask me.“

A quiet “please” was all you could utter. 

“Please, what? Please stop?” he said as he slowed his pace. 

“No!” 

“Then, what? What do you want to do, love?”

“I want to rub my clit while you fuck me.” You spoke barely above whisper and he heard you, but it didn’t matter. He wanted you to beg. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” 

You groaned, growing more needy and annoyed as every second passed. “Please…”

“Say it, babygirl.” He thrust suddenly. Hard and deep.  

“Ah! Please, let me rub my clit while you fuck me. Please, please, please!” 

He grinned and gripped your wrist. He moved your arm in between your bodies and you immediately began touching yourself. Your head tilted back as your eyes rolled back and closed. It was better than anything you could have imagined. You opened your eyes to find Jim looking down and staring where your bodies met. He slowed down and watched as he entered you. 

“Jim, please, don’t stop. I’m so close.” 

He pulled out and watched your expression twist from one of pleasure to one of desperation. 

“Jim,” you drew out his name, “fuck, why!”

“I need to taste you.” He started to move down.

“Jim, please. Just-“

“Are you my good girl?”, he challenged you

You nodded and he shook his head. 

“Words.”

“I’m a good girl.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, I’m a very, very good girl.” 

“Then let me eat this pussy.”

He moved down til his face was between your legs. He licked from your wet hole to your clit. You moaned as he licked and sucked. After a few seconds he stopped. 

“Do you deserve my cum, baby? 

“Yes! Please. Please, I deserve it!”

“Tell me you want me. Tell me how bad you need me.” His voice was low. He needed to hear you say it. 

“I want you. I really, really want you.. Fuck, I need you.” You let out a long moan as he went back to your clit with more determination than before. You pressed his head deeper between your legs as he devoured you. He reached up to grab your free hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You bucked your hips up and he moved with you. 

“I want you inside me. I want your cum inside me again. I want it over and over and over again.” 

He pulled back for air, cursed under his breath, and quickly lined himself up again. 

You kissed him as he entered you slowly again. The kiss was messy and wanton. You tasted yourself on his tongue. His thumb rubbed your clit and your hips absentmindedly met his. 

“Jim,” your voice thin, “I’m gonna-.” 

“Let go, love. I’m right behind you.” 

He let you ride your high before he finished inside you. Spent and panting he didn’t dare move. You were sweaty, exhausted, and experiencing pure bliss. His hands caressed your sides as he soothed you. It was only when you both came down that he pulled out and dragged you towards him, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head. 

“You were so good,” he whispered, “You were so good for me. So perfect for me...”

You hummed and cuddled into his chest. You felt a bit of awkwardness starting to creep in. You didn’t know how to feel. Submitting to him even the tiniest bit felt like a burden on him, even if he indulged in your every desire. You racked your brain, trying to figure out what to even say in return to you were “so perfect”. You went a little rigid and moved away from him just enough to lift your hand. 

“Thank you. Nice job. Go team.” You mentally facepalmed. You couldn’t figure out what else to say, so you landed on something you’d say after a corporate team building exercise. Or, at least, it felt detached enough that you wouldn’t have to confront your feelings for him.

He laughed and obliged the high five. Then, he laced his fingers with yours and gave the back of your hand a kiss. 

He playfully rolled his eyes, “Darling, why are you getting awkward on me now?” 

You looked up at him and lost yourself in his eyes. He stared back at you with a newfound curiosity. He was searching for a way into your head so that he could finally have some clarity in his life. He just wanted to know if he was right about something, someone, this time. 

“I’m not getting awkward I’m just-“

“Deflecting.” His look said “I’m right aren’t I?” and you half rolled your eyes.

He sighed and rubbed his thumb against your shoulder. “You, my dear, need some advice.”

“Dear god, here comes Professor Ji-.”

“Let. Go.” The soft smile on his face made you feel safe instantly.

You exhaled though your nose, “Pardon?” 

“Let go. Give into… this, whatever this is. Just let go. Let it happen. I’ll be here to catch you.”

“I… How do I know you’re not lying?”

“You don’t. But, I’m asking you to trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“No, not me as your professor. Me as your-“

“As my what? What are you to me exactly? You’re not my partner. We’re not dating. So you as my what?” His comment through you for a loop. You were apprehensive. The last thing you wanted to do was get too attached. 

“As your escape.”

He was right. You desperately needed this. It was an appitite you could never satiate. Yet, you laid with the only person that ever fulfilled your needs and you wondered how much more he could do for you. You wondered how much further you could go, how much deeper this dynamic could go. How much of himself he was willing to give to you? Not to mention, how would you keep this life separate from your life at school? You were both adults, but things like this cloud a persons judgement. 

He continued, “I know you. I can tell what you enjoy just from your writing. You write about romance and relationship dymanics often. I can tell what you’re into based on your word choice alone. I believe it was you that wrote “There’s a certain type of desperation that takes over when you give yourself, your body, to someone else.” I know you, darling. I know what you need and I know how to give it to you. Just let me.”

[bladeofthestars]

.

[1800-fight-me]

Safety in Your Arms

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader Rating: M (Mature but as always-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT) Warnings: Cursing, threats of violence, stranger danger i.e. stalking but don't worry Logan saves the day Word count: A bit over 2k Synopsis: Logan protects you from the unwanted advances of another man and shows protectiveness and care you didn't know he had for you. Author’s note: I'm thinking this might need a part two, let me know what y'all think- I hope you enjoy! P.S. I do not have a taglist! Instead if you would like to be notified when I post new fics follow my side blog @jo-writes-fanfic and turn your post notifications on! Comments and reblogs make my day! Logan Howlett Masterlist Main Masterlist

There was a cold panic that shot down your spine. Fight or flight, you’d learned the technical term, but now experienced it for yourself. 

The five minute walk between your work and your apartment had never felt so long. It all started with a creepy customer- which was a regular occurrence at your job- but this customer took it far beyond creepy. 

He tried to make too much small talk, stared too much, made a few too many over the line comments, and was entirely too pushy when asking for your phone number. Your one male coworker escorted him out and you thought that was the end of it. 

Hours went by, you assured your coworkers multiple times that you were fine and you were safe, and eventually you were the last one left to close and lock up. 

But only one block away from your workplace, you had the feeling of being watched- of being followed. And it was just your luck that your phone was dead and you’d forgotten your charger at home.

You changed your route, taking one that was a bit longer but also more well lit and populated. With a glance back you confirmed your worry, that it was in fact the same creepy guy from hours before. 

Your heart pounded with terror as you contemplated every option for safety. Your apartment building required a code to enter, so you sped your walk, hoping if you slipped into the building and shut the door behind you that it would be enough. 

“Hey,” the man’s voice called out, but you refused to look back. 

Your apartment building was within sight, but the man’s catcalls and jeers were also getting louder and closer. 

“Hey, c’mere pretty lady! I’ve got somethin’ for ya!” 

Your whole body shuddered in fear. Your next door neighbor stepped outside of the front door of the apartment building and you nearly sobbed in relief. 

“Logan!” you called out. 

He looked up in surprise, but his expression quickly turned to concern as he saw the stress in your entire demeanor. 

You practically ran to him and threw your arms around his torso in a hug he clearly did not expect. He hugged you back, but you felt him stiffen as he looked behind you. 

That was one thing about Logan, he was extremely perceptive and quick to notice any form of danger. 

“Hey bub, what can I do for you?” he said to the man behind you in a gruff tone that was not at all welcoming as he gently maneuvered you so that you stood safely behind him. 

You gripped Logan’s strong bicep as you peered around his shoulder at the stalker. 

“I was just-” 

“Just nothin’. You better leave her alone,” Logan interrupted. 

“C’mon, I was just inviting the pretty lady to have a good time. Does he speak for you?” the creep asked as he made eye contact with you. The malice in his eyes made your heartbeat spike again. 

“Yeah, he’s my boyfriend,” you said nervously. 

He glanced between you and Logan as if uncertain. 

“She just told you, she’s mine- so fuck off,” Logan growled. A different kind of shiver went down your spine. 

“You live here?” the man asked. 

“No,” Logan growled before you could even open your mouth. “But I do, and if I see you around here again it’ll be a problem.” 

The man looked at Logan and finally seemed to take in the gravity of the situation, the danger that the large muscled man protecting you could pose. 

He gulped and nodded, yielded a step back as Logan took a step forward- muscles tense and fist clenched. 

The man turned and scurried away. You took your first full deep breath in several long minutes. 

Logan watched the man until he was completely out of view before he turned to you. He placed a large comforting hand on your shoulder and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. 

“Princess,” he said in a gentle voice. 

He pulled you into a hug as a tear fell from your eye and made its way down your cheek. You were enveloped in his warmth and woodsy masculine scent and finally felt safe. 

“Thanks for pretending to be my boyfriend,” you said as you pulled back and wiped the tears from your eyes. 

“Anytime,” he said with a smirk. Your breath caught and you bit your lip as you looked up at him and saw such care and concern on his handsome face. 

“Who was that guy?” he asked. 

You shrugged, “Some crazy customer from earlier today, my coworker made him leave, but I guess he came back and waited until I was leaving alone….” 

Logan’s brow furrowed and he gritted his teeth. “That motherfucker,” he growled, “I’m walking you to and from work tomorrow.” 

“You don’t have to-” 

“No, I do. And I’ll do it until I’m sure he isn’t gonna bother you anymore. And if he shows up again…” he trailed off as his claws extended from his fist in an action that seemed involuntary due to his rage. 

A shiver ran down your spine. You had no idea Logan felt so protective over you. 

“Thank you,” you said in a soft voice, “I appreciate it.” 

This was not helping your ridiculous crush on your neighbor. From the minute he moved in with your friend Wade, you had heart eyes for him. 

The Wolverine, he took your breath away without even trying. With his large stature, huge muscles, and handsome face- you were a goner. It didn’t matter that he was older, way out of your league, and generally altogether grumpy. You were head over heels for him, and you were certain he had never noticed you before, that he merely thought you were Wade’s annoying friend. 

But you adored him, you adored the gentle heart you knew he buried under that gruff exterior, and displays of protectiveness such as this only proved what an amazing person you already knew he was. 

“I’m headed to meet Wade at the bar, d’you wanna come?” he offered. 

You nodded eagerly, not wanting to be alone after the stress of the day. 

“Lead the way,” you said with a smile. 

—--------

“Look who I brought,” Logan said as you walked behind him into the bar and approached a booth in the back corner. 

He stepped to the side so your friends could see you. Wade, Vanessa, and Dopinder sat at the table, already laughing and drinking beer. 

Wade gasped dramatically and exclaimed, “Princess Cupcake!” 

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips betrayed you and showed your amusement. 

“Hey Wade,” you replied then greeted the others. 

“What? No comeback? I’m hurt! What’s wrong?” he asked, speaking in that way too fast pattern that was his norm. 

Logan placed a hand on your back and leaned down closer to your ear as he asked quietly, “You wanna sit down? I can get you a drink- what do you want?” 

You smiled and sat down as you were told and told him your drink order. 

Wade wiggled his non-existent eyebrows at you in a rather suggestive manner. 

“What’s up between you and peanut? Did you finally fu-” 

“No,” you interjected quickly. 

“Wade, she’s clearly upset and Logan is helping her,” Vanessa said as she elbowed her boyfriend. 

You sighed and explained the events of your afternoon. During your explanation Logan came back to the table with two drinks and sat next to you. His large form crowded you into the corner of the booth, but you didn’t mind. 

“That motherfucker,” Wade said in anger at the end of your story. Vanessa gave you a look of solidarity, you knew she had experienced plenty of creepy men in her life. 

“That’s what I said,” Logan replied, clearly somewhat amused. 

“We should kill him,” Dopinder said.

“Calm down wannabe-vigilante,” you muttered which caused everyone to chuckle. 

“Don’t worry cupcake, ole honey badger and I will make sure you’re safe,” Wade reassured. 

You nodded and said, “I appreciate it, but I don’t think he’ll return. Logan can be pretty intimidating, it was amazing - I’m sure he scared him off.”

Logan grunted in agreement, although when you looked at him you could’ve sworn there was a tint of pink on his cheeks and the tops of his ears. 

As the evening stretched on, you were thoroughly distracted from your troubles and amused by Wade’s antics and Dopinder’s stories. 

“So, Princess Cupcake, any luck on the dating front?” Wade asked. 

You tugged at the sleeves of your shirt- a nervous habit, and without looking up from the table said, “Nope.” 

Logan let out a soft sigh of what your aching heart could only hope was relief. 

“I’ve never asked, what’s with the nickname?” Dopinder asked. 

You shrugged and gestured to Wade. 

“When Blind Al and I moved into our apartment this sweetie pie here brought us cupcakes!” Wade explained. 

“Good thing it was cupcakes instead of a pie because being constantly called sweetie pie would make me want to die,” you muttered and everyone laughed. 

“What about the princess part though?” Dopinder asked. 

“Just look at her,” Logan mumbled and you and everyone at the table looked over at him in surprise. 

“She’s got that innocent sort of pretty you only see in big bright eyed animated Disney princesses,” Wade said. 

Embarrassed at the attention you changed the subject immediately. Your constant filthy thoughts about Logan proved you were anything but innocent. 

“But why is Logan’s nickname peanut?” you asked quickly. 

Wade shrugged, “Just fits.” 

Logan rolled his eyes. 

You smirked and said, “I bet we could come up with a hundred nicknames for him that would fit better.” 

“Like what?” Wade challenged. 

You glanced over at the large handsome man sitting next to you as your face warmed. 

Daddy was the first word that came to mind. Wade chuckled in a way that made you momentarily worried that mind reading was one of his mutant abilities. 

The silence at the table stretched on, becoming a tad awkward, before you said, “Nevermind I’m not very good with nicknames anyways.” 

“Yeah, it’s probably best to leave choosing nicknames to the professional,” Vanessa said in a joking tone to ease the tension. You shot her a look of gratitude and she winked at you before she effectively changed the subject all together. 

Eventually, after enough drinks and conversation, you declared that it was time for you to go home. 

“C’mon!” Wade protested. “The night has just begun!” 

“I wish I could stay but I’ve got work in the morning.” 

“I’ll walk you home,” Logan said in a soft but firm tone that left no room for argument as he stood and took a step back to give you room to get out of the booth. 

You nodded in agreement and smiled in pleasant surprise as he offered you his arm. You wrapped your arm around his large bicep and linked your elbows as you followed him out into the cold winter air. 

The city glowed in warm orange light that reflected on the wet pavement. Your breath was visible in frostbitten wind, and you shivered slightly which caused you to burrow further into your coat and move closer to Logan and the heat his body provided. 

He then pulled his arm from yours, causing you to momentarily panic, but just as swiftly he wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

You smiled and filled the short walk with endless chatter, you used to worry that your yapping irritated him, but the small uptick of his lips- the ghost of a smile- showed fond amusement and filled you with warmth enough to make you forget about the cold. 

“What time do you leave for work in the morning?” Logan asked as you reached the door of your apartment- his apartment door only a few steps away. 

“Eight o’clock,” you replied as you unlocked the door.

“But really, you don’t have to-”

“I’ll see you then,” he interrupted in a tone that indicated you would not win this argument. 

Then he did something you didn’t expect at all, he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to your forehead. 

You grinned, your smile wider than probably ever before as you said, “Goodnight Logan, see you bright and bleary eyed tomorrow.” 

He chuckled as he bid you goodnight and you walked into your apartment and shut the door only after he smiled at you again before disappearing behind his own door. 

You shut your door and locked it before leaning against it. You muffled your squeal of excitement with your hand- all too aware how thin the walls are. The stressful events of the day completely forgotten. 

[snowflop]

[thef1diary]

Little Big Fan | Six

— Little Big Gifts

Series Masterlist

wc: 1.9k

You watched as Isabella tugged Max into yet another store with a tight grip on his hand. At this point, you were losing track of how many stores you've been in and out of.

Falling behind a few steps, you took that moment to notice how Max and Isabella could've easily resembled a father-daughter duo to the strangers around you.

Pushing that thought away when Max looked for you, he smiled and held out his other hand—that was still holding a few shopping bags—as a gesture for you to come closer.

"How much money are you planning to spend on her?" You asked, looking at the increasing shopping bags in both yours and his hands, everything bought so far was for Isabella.

You had to physically stop yourself from grasping his bicep, cursing internally when you remembered that it wouldn't be the right thing to do. But you desperately wanted it to be a normal habit.

The first—and last—time you tried to pay was when you were checking out at the register in the first store of the day. Max lightly shoved you aside and tapped his card before you could notice what happened.

The cashier noticed and even commented, "let him pay for it, darling," with a cheeky wink directed at you.

Max looked at you, almost offended at the question you asked. "Until my account is empty," he stated with a shrug and a growing smile on his face when you shook your head. This would've been the perfect time to lean against him and smile at him, but once again you didn't.

"It would take a long time before that happens," you responded and he gave you a knowing look, "that's the point."

Isabella was roaming around the aisles with you and Max following behind. Every time she liked something, she would pick it up and look at you two with the cutest smile on her face while muttering the word, "please."

It reminded you of the day you first met Max through Isabella, since she was doing the same trick as today.

The only difference was that every time that happened, Max looked at you for permission as well and it felt like you were facing two versions of Isabella.

"Mama!" Isabella exclaimed when she laid her eyes on the prize, which happens to be hair accessories.

Little clips with bows, glittery ones, some even had flowers, and she loved it all.

"Pick out the ones you really, really like, Bella." If you didn't limit the items, Isabella would pick one too many. You stood beside her, holding each item that she handed to you.

There were lots of options, but your little girl was picky and this was one of the few times you were grateful for it. She picked out a total of six items, "because I'm six, mama," was her reasoning behind it.

You chuckled, "you can pick out seven things when you turn seven then, okay?" She nodded, and began counting how many months were left until her birthday.

Max watched the whole interaction with soft smile on his face, wondering how he had such amazing luck that he was able to befriend the sweetest mother-daughter duo.

Then, Isabella spotted earrings and asked if she could buy those too. "Your ears aren't pierced, angel." She frowned, "why not?"

“Do you want to get your ears pierced?" You asked, knowing it was a question you'd have to ask one day and it seemed like a good time right now.

"Yes please," Isabella nodded, and looked at both you and Max in anticipation. This time, you looked at Max for reassurance, wanting to know his opinion as well. Though you had no idea why his opinion mattered so much to you.

"It's going to hurt," Max commented or more so stated directed at Isabella, wanting her to know the process behind it. "I am a big girl!" She responded with enthusiasm, and by the tone of her voice, you knew that she had already set her mind on it.

"Okay, big girl, let's get you some piercings after we buy all this," you stated and she smiled brightly, holding onto your hand as you neared the cash register.

As Max reached for his wallet, you placed your hand over his to stop him, and he looked at you with a questioning gaze. "Max, you already did too much," you whispered, ensuring that your daughter doesn't hear you.

"What if I want to do more?" He countered, and you sighed. Then he added, "plus I promised Bella that I would buy her the clips she wanted, and she also asked for ice cream."

You knew he wasn't going to budge, so you let him pay but you needed to have a conversation with him about it.

You weren't used to this sort of treatment, and even after Max reassured you that it was truly his choice to pay, you felt bad.

As you walked out the shop holding Isabella's hand, who was beaming because of the new purchases, you looked at Max, "are you going to let me pay for the piercings?"

He debated it, knowing that if he kept paying, you might never take him along for shopping again. "If you insist," he shrugged and you smiled, quickly placing a kiss to his cheek in appreciation.

While you and Isabella continued walking, Max faltered and stopped midstep. He brushed his fingers against his cheek that you kissed with a small smile growing on his face. Then, he continued walking before you were able to notice that he stopped.

Isabella's nervousness almost matched her excitement as she sat in the chair. The piercer was a kind lady who understood both Isabella's nervousness and excitement.

She explained the process as it was your daughter's first time getting pierced. "Are you sure you want to do this, angel?" You asked, watching her wiggle around in the chair.

Still, her nod was just as firm, "yes mama."

Once the piercer marked Isabella's ear so the placement was precise, she looked towards you and Max then back at Isabella.

"Why don't you hold on to your mama and daddy's hand, you'll forget the pain and we'll be done in no time."

Isabella grabbed onto your hand but then shook her head, "he's Maxy, not daddy," she clarified. Max took a slight step back after her words, the realization dawning on him that he might've gotten a little too comfortable too quickly.

"I'm going to hold onto mama and Maxy's hand," Isabella stated, holding out her hand towards Max with a wide smile on her face, as if she didn't realize the words she spoke just moments ago.

Technically, she wasn't wrong which was why you didn't correct her. But, the truth of the situation wasn't something you focused on until recently, especially after the words Tyler spoke yesterday.

"Can you count to three for me?" The piercer asked Isabella, deflating the tension.

Your focus was completely on your daughter, mainly because you didn't want to think of the possibilities about your future with Max just yet.

The piercer didn't wait until Isabella finished counting, instead surprising her by piercing her ear a second earlier.

Max rubbed her hand soothingly as he noticed her eyes beginning to water but she didn't let a single tear drop. Inhaling sharply, she commented, "that didn't hurt too bad."

"You're a brave girl. Now let's do the other side," the lady commented and Isabella's eyes widened at her words. "The other side?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at her words, "yes, angel, she has to do your other ear unless you only want one earring?"

Isabella shook her head, and sat through the same process for her other ear.

"Good job!" The lady gave your daughter a high five, then she walked away to gather the items needed for post piercing care.

You kissed your daughter's cheek, carefully avoiding any accidental touches to her ear, "my brave girl."

The chair she was sitting on was higher up, so Isabella held her hands out towards Max. He took a step closer and easily wrapped his arm around her, helping her stand firmly on the ground. “You're going to be the coolest kid in first grade," he told her which made her eyes widen with excitement.

"Really?" Isabella asked. "Of course! You got a new bag, new clothes, and even new piercings. You are going to have so many friends."

After Isabella shared her fear of moving to first grade after kindergarten, you and Max tried your best to reassure her that it isn't as scary as she thinks it is.

You went up to the cash counter to pay and the lady explained the steps that should be taken after a piercing for proper care.

Meanwhile, Max was holding Isabella's hand and whispering to each other but stopped once you returned. "Where to next?"

"Ice cream!" Your daughter cheered, and you couldn't say no to her even if you tried. After all, she did deserve ice cream since she put on such a brave face for her piercings.

After buying three different flavours of ice cream, one for each of you, it was time for a much needed break. You knew that Isabella was close to wanting a nap since you saw her eyes droop slightly once you sat down to enjoy some ice cream.

She leaned against you and wandered off into her own imaginative world. "I think we're done for the day," you turned your head towards Max as you spoke the words.

"You didn't get anything for yourself yet," Max commented and you shrugged, "I don't think I have the energy to shop for myself, plus you didn't buy anything for yourself either."

"And you're sure that you're not saying that because you don't want to spend my money?" He asked and you had a sheepish smile on your face that gave you away, “that too.”

Max tried to understand why you were so adamant on that topic. He didn't know why you were so hesitant to spend his money. He knew that if it were someone else, they wouldn't have hesitated. But then again, you aren't just someone else, you're you.

"Fine, mister rich, don't look at me like that. I'll empty out your pockets one day and then you'll realize what a mistake you made," you teased him, knowing that you would never do that. "But, I seriously don't have the energy to continue shopping."

"First, it won't be a mistake if I ask you to do it, and second, I'm here whenever you need me—or in this case, my card—just give me a call."

You were glad that Isabella was not listening to your conversation, because you wouldn't know how to explain it to her.

"You can't say things like that," you nearly whispered. "It's actually true, I'm free for the next ten days. During that, we're going shopping again."

You shook your head with a smile on your face, "I'll take you up on that offer then."

"Good." You leaned closer to him, without actually leaning on him. Even that little inch closer, brought a smile to both your faces but neither commented on it.

Then, when you looked at Isabella, she had almost finished her ice cream but you laughed when you noticed quite of a bit of it smeared around her mouth. "Oh, Bella." She giggled as she tried to wipe away as much as she could with her tongue before using the tissue that you passed her.

Taglist: (let me know if you want to be added or removed) @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @glitterf1 @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17

[fallingformatt]

“IM NOT THAT SCARY AFTER ALL” C.S.

dealer Chris x fem!reader

summary: what happens when you go to the beach with your dealer in the middle of the night?

warnings: smut! 18+ unprotected sex, mentions weed

word count: 1.9k

a/n: heyy everyone my name is lily and this is my first fic, please don’t be hard on me. Leave suggestions or requests! Hope you enjoy

➽───────────────❥

I kept tossing and turning in my bed, I couldn't fall asleep for the life of me it was so hot in my room that even only wearing my oversized t-shirt that barely covers my ass and a thong I was still too hot to fall asleep. I picked up my phone to check the time. "Fuck" I said under my breath as the phone screen read 2:37 AM "Well there is only one thing that can help me," I said to myself as I swiftly hopped out of my bed, rushing to my vanity. I pulled out my pink 'makeup bag' which really wasn't a makeup bag but a special bag that holds weed for when I want to smoke and that's the beauty of it, my parents would never think to look in my makeup bag that is placed on my vanity, hiding in plain sight.

I pull on the zipper revealing the contents of the bag: some papers a lighter and a small tin container "Bingo" I say to myself getting excited to smoke. I opened the container and was left shocked. It was empty not even a little left for me to smoke. I sighed as I knew what my two options were. Option one go back to bed and try to fall asleep in this hell-like heat or option two message my dealer who I'm scared of. I try to see him as rarely as possible. Chris is so hot but also hella scary and always seems cold and distant so I always kept it short and always buy enough to last me at least a month. I weighed out my options and decided that there was no way that I was falling asleep without smoking so I grabbed my phone.

"hey r u still up?" I texted him and waited for an answer hoping he was still up so I could get my weed.

"yeah i'm still up, need something ma?" he answered. He always called me ma or princess which I found weird but never dared to say anything about it.

"can I buy my usual? im all out" I text right back happy that he's still awake

"sure ma gonna be there in five" he answers

I quickly go out of my room and check if my parents are asleep. I go down the stairs and quickly sneak out of the backdoor as I usually do since it's the furthest from my parents room and they wouldn't hear the door opening or closing. I go around my house and he's already at my front door waiting in his car. I quickly get in the car. "hey ma I like what ur wearing" he says smirking. I look down and realize I forgot to put on shorts or pants and now I'm sitting in his car bare ass on the seat as my shirt raised up a bit while sitting down. "well I rushed outside and it's really hot outside" I said quietly. "Do you have my weed?" I continued right after. "Of course I do ma, here," he said and pushed a baggie with weed in my hand. My eyes lit up seeing my goods and a smile creeps on my face as I reach out my hand with cash "Damn, you're so excited over some weed. You know it's not good to do drugs right?" he says in a cold tone taking my money. "Well, this weed is the only way I'm falling asleep in this weather. Besides you should want people to buy weed it's how you earn your money" I say back. "Do you wanna go somewhere cooler?" Chris asks. " Well I don't know, my parents are asleep" I answer. "Exactly they won't even know you left the house," he says smirking again. "You've got a point, sure let's go," I say.

This interaction was a bit different than all other ones. He didn't seem as cold as usual but maybe I'm just imagining things.

We have been driving for at least 10 minutes now and I'm sitting on my side both my legs horizontally on the car seat as I look through the window listening to the music that's quietly playing in the car. "Where are we going? You never told me" I ask as I turn my head. I saw Chris looking at my ass as it was fully visible in the position I'm sitting in. "We're almost there" his eyes quickly shot to the road as he answered. "Were you looking at my ass?" I say changing my sitting position. "Well ur the one who's not wearing any pants" he scoffs coldly. "I didn't know we would go somewhere" I quickly answer. "We're here," Chris says and I look outside the window. We are at the beach, the moon is shining and the waves look so calming. We both get out of the car and head to the shore.

We find a good spot and sit down. We are the only ones here no people in sight, just me and him. Well if I think about it he could kill me and no one would ever know, the thought of that made me uneasy. "You good ma?" he asks "Yeah I'm fine" I answer looking at the pretty waves as the warm breeze hits my skin. "This feels so nice," I say quietly. "It does, do you want to smoke?" he asks holding a joint that he had just rolled in between his fingers "You bet I do" I answer and he puts the joint in between my lips and lights it. I take a puff and let the smoke out. We finish the joint and sit for a bit.

I look at Chris and notice his beautiful features in the moonlight, my gaze moving from his hair to his lips, as my eyes travel down further my eyes fall to his crotch and I feel my panties dampen. He turns his head looking at me and his clear blue eyes with a hint of red surrounding them meet mine. "what's up ma?" he asks not breaking the eye contact. "You know, you're not as scary as I thought," I say looking down at my fingers and playing with the sand beneath me. "Why do you think I'm scary, do you think I'm going to kill you or something" he shoots back a question. "That thought did cross my mind if I'm being honest. You're always so cold towards me" I say and he chuckles at my confession. "I would never kill such a pretty lady. I always love seeing you ma" he says and a smile appears on my face.

"You wanna go for a swim?" he asks "I don't have a swimsuit" I answer "Neither do I, let's go anyway, cmon ma don't be shy," Chris says looking at me shooting me a quick smirk before standing up and pulling down his shorts and his shirt running towards the waves. I get up and pull off my t-shirt throwing it into the sand and covering my bare chest with my hands as I have no bra on.

I start running towards the ocean as well, seeing Chris already in the water fully swimming. I swim to him and he looks at me staring me down, till he glances at my boobs and licks his lips. "Kiss me," he demands with a lustful voice. He takes my hand and pulls me closer until our bodies meet pushing his lips onto mine unexpectedly. His tongue exploring my mouth before breaking the kiss. He moves to kissing my neck sucking on it leaving a mark. I tilt my head back and let out a quiet moan as he hits my sweet spot. "Oh you like that don't you ma," he says and moves to kiss my collarbones leaving a trail of kisses till he gets to my breasts nibbling on my nipple. "Oh fuck" I moan. "Tell me what you want, and I'm gonna give it to you princess," Chris says in a deep voice. "I want you" I manage to say. He grabs my hand and starts running towards the shore as I'm following him. We get to the shore where our clothes are.

I lay down and he crawls in between my legs his chain dangling above my face his eyes full of lust staring at my lips before smashing his lips on mine once again as we share a passionate kiss. He pulls down my thong not breaking the kiss, doing the same for his boxers. As we deepen the kiss his fingers move up and down my heat before slamming them into me. I throw my head back as a loud moan leaves my lips. "Oh fuuck Chris" I moan out loud as he continues to thrust his fingers into me at a rapid pace. "Tell me what you want," Chris says as his voice grows deep "I-I nee-" I try to say but can't finish the sentence. Chris suddenly pulls his fingers out of me and my eyes shoot open in frustration "Full sentences princess. Tell me what you want" he says his eyes darkening with arousal "I need- I need you in me Chris" I manage to squeeze out as my hips buck up yarning for him. His thumb presses against my lips before I open my mouth sucking on it. Without any warning, he pushes deeply into me causing me to let out a scream-like moan, tears forming in my eyes. Without letting me adjust he starts pounding into me his tip kissing my g-spot "Oh my god Chris you're so big" I moan as I throw my head back. He pounds deeply into me keeping the same rhythm hitting my g-spot with every thrust "Look at me" he says but I keep my eyes shut. "I said look at me princess," his voice getting deeper than before as he grabbed my jaw, and our eyes met. "Look at you, taking me so good princess," he says as he pushes his lips on mine my hand travels to his wet hair lightly pulling it and he places his hand on my thigh, our bodies sticking to each other like glue.

He continues to thrust deep and hard as my moans slip against his lips, my hands traveling to his back. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back, rolling his eyes and letting out an animalistic growl I feel my climax coming. "I- I- I'm close don't stop please don't stop Chris" I cry out as I arch my back, digging my nails into his back leaving scratch marks, bucking up my hips to feel him even deeper. Chris lets out a moan as his thrusts become more aggressive and faster. I dig my nails into the sand holding on to anything I can "I'm so close I'm gonna cum" I moan out as I feel my walls tightening around his cock. Chris hearing that thrusts in me harder than ever making me almost scream out in pleasure. His breathing became hitched as he trusted a few more times before cumming letting out a loud moan, leading to the knot in my stomach to unravel, I let out a pornographic-like moan as my orgasm took over me.

As we both came down from our highs, he pulled his dick out of me kissing me before laying in the sand next to me. He turned his head to look at me and said "Come here ma" and pulled me closer as I laid my head on his chest. We watched as the sun started to come up "See I'm not so scary after all" Chris said with a chuckle. "We should do this again" he continued and I nodded my head in agreement. "Common let's get you home," he said and we got dressed heading for his car.

[notsosweetchan]

PAIRING: Hyunjin x Reader

WARNINGS: smut, sexual language

Minors do not interact

Hell week

ੈ✩‧₊˚Complete this task ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hyunjin, the new pledge at his fraternity, was barely surviving hell week. The older brothers had given him a list of tasks to complete and each one earned them points towards their initiation. He had managed to score well in some, but the last few days had been grueling. With only three days left, he was behind by half.

The final task staring back at him on the list read: "Sex with a virgin - 500 points." He groaned inwardly, knowing that it would be either this or punishment. He only knows one virgin his best friend Y/N he has known her since 5th grade but he has never thought of her like that, not till now.

Hyunjin gulped, feeling a knot forming in his stomach as he contemplated his options. He couldn't believe he was even considering this, let alone with Y/N. The memories of their countless sleepovers and innocent childhood games flooded his mind. But desperation clouded his judgment, and the thought of facing the humiliation and consequences of failing to complete the task loomed over him.

Hyunjin sighed heavily as he knocked on the door to Y/N's dorm room, his heart pounding in his chest. She opened it, looking at him curiously, her wide eyes taking in his nervous demeanor.

"Hey, Hyunjin! What's up?" She asked with a small smile on her lips.

He couldn't look at her face as he mumbled out the request. "I need your help with something... It's for my fraternity..." He trailed off, unable to bring himself to say the words out loud.

Y/N's smile faded, and she stepped back from the doorway, allowing him entry into her small space. "What do you need from me?" She asked warily, eyeing him suspiciously as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

Hyunjin took a deep breath before turning to face her fully.

"I... I need you to help me complete a task. It's worth a lot of points, and if I don't...”

"...if I don't, I'll be out of the fraternity," Hyunjin blurted out, unable to meet Y/N's gaze any longer. Silence filled the room as his words hung heavily in the air. He could hear Y/N's breathing quicken, and he prayed she wouldn't freak out on him. This was his last resort, and he desperately needed her help.

After what felt like an eternity, Y/N spoke up in a shaky voice, "What do you need me to do?"

Hyunjin exhaled a sigh of relief, but guilt immediately consumed him when he heard the hurt in her voice. He cleared his throat, "I-I need you to... I need you to have... sex with me."

Y/N froze, her face flushing red with shock and embarrassment. "You want me to... lose my virginity to you? Just like that?" she stammered, pointing at the floor between them.

Hyunjin looked at her for the first time since he had made his request and saw the pain in her beautiful brown eyes. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to put you in this position. But I have no other choice," he pleaded, his voice cracking.

Y/N averted her gaze, biting her bottom lip as she wrestled with her thoughts. "And if I say no?"

Hyunjin swallowed hard, preparing himself for the rejection he knew he deserved. "Then I'll understand and we’ll never speak of this ever again."

Y/N couldn’t believe this was happening. Her best friend since childhood was asking her to sleep with him to save his ass from humiliation and, worst of all, she was actually considering it.

Y/N met Hyunjin's desperate gaze, her heart aching at the desperation in his eyes. "Fine. I'll do it. But only because you're my friend and I trust you to take care of me ," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

Hyunjin's eyes widened in disbelief and relief. "Are you sure, Y/N?" he asked, suddenly unsure if he could go through with it.

Y/N nodded, steeling herself for what was about to happen. "Just... don't make this any harder than it already is," she muttered, her cheeks flushed red with shame.

Hyunjin swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, unable to find the words to express his gratitude or even explain how sorry he was for putting her in this position.

He took her trembling hand in his and led her to her bed, Hyunjin had always has a small crush on Y/N but never thought he would be the reason her first time would be like this.

As they settled onto the bed together, Hyunjin's heart thudded in his chest while Y/N tried to push down the anxiety and fear bubbling up within her. The air around them was thick with the tension of their impending intimacy, making it hard for either of them to breathe normally.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm both his nerves and hers as he gently kissed her softly on the lips. His tongue slid into her mouth, seeking entrance as he began exploring her mouth with flicks and nibbles. His hands found their way underneath her shirt, tracing patterns on her bare skin as he deepened the kiss.

Y/N responded to his touch, moaning softly into his mouth as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself closer against him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling gently as she surrendered to the heat building inside her from his touch. She shivered slightly at the feel of his warm breath against her skin, goosebumps rising along her arms in response. When he broke away from the kiss, she found herself whimpering softly in protest.

Hyunjin noticed her swollen lips and the desire in her eyes that mirrored his own. He couldn’t believe this was happening but vowed to make it as pleasurable as possible for her. With shaking hands, he undressed her, his gaze hungrily taking in the sight of her naked body underneath the layers of clothes.

Y/N blushed crimson as she let him undress her, unable to meet his eyes. She couldn't believe she was about to lose her virginity to her best friend – something she had always secretly fantasized about but never imagined would happen like this. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, trying to block out the reasons behind their actions and focus on the pleasure instead.

Hyunjin slid in between the sheets with her, his body tense with anticipation and guilt. He knew he should stop but couldn't bring himself to do it. Kissing his way down her body, he began to explore her pink folds, his tongue swirling and delving into her wet heat.

Y/N gasped, arching her back in pleasure as sensations she never knew existed coursed through her body. Her nails dug into the sheets as he continued his ministrations, her hips bucking against his face. He groaned, feeling her responding to him, knowing that she was close.

Y/N came apart with a loud moan, her body shaking uncontrollably as her first orgasm washed over her in waves. Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a small amount of pride well up inside him as he saw the pleasure on her face.

As she recovered from her climax, Hyunjin moved back up her trembling body, determined to make this as painless as possible for her. He positioned himself at her entrance, his heart pounding in his chest. "Y/N, I—"

"Please," she interrupted him, her eyes full of determination. "Just do it, I can't take it anymore."

Hyunjin nodded, kissing her softly one more time before he slowly pushed himself into her tight heat. Y/N groaned through gritted teeth, her nails digging into his biceps as he entered her fully. The intense sensation of her virginity being taken away caused stars to dance before his eyes, but he remained still, allowing her time to adjust to his girth.

After a few moments of adjustment, Y/N nodded, giving him the go-ahead to continue. Hyunjin started moving slowly, savoring every inch of her hot, wet heat. With each thrust, he felt her inner muscles clench around him, tightening her grip on his manhood.

Y/N could feel herself building up to another orgasm, her breath coming out in pants as Hyunjin picked up the pace. This time, she was more prepared for the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. Her nails raked down his back, urging him on as she met his thrusts with her own.

Hyunjin couldn't believe how incredible it felt to be buried deep inside his best friend, Y/N. She was tight, wet, and warm, enveloping him in a way that sent electric shocks through his body. He had fantasized about this moment countless times, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of it. The way she moaned beneath him, her nails digging into his back, was enough to make him lose control.

But he didn't want this to be over yet. He wanted to make her come again, to feel the way her body shook and trembled beneath him. He began to move slowly, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in, savoring the feeling of her body yielding to his. He could feel her clenching around him, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to lose it right then and there.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, his breath hot and heavy. "You feel so good, Y/N. I want to make you feel even better."

She moaned in response, and he took that as a sign to pick up the pace. He started to move faster, harder, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through his body. He could feel her getting closer, her breath coming in short gasps, her body tense and trembling.

He reached down between them, finding her clit with his fingers and rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles. She cried out, her body arching off the bed, and he knew she was close. He redoubled his efforts, thrusting deeper, harder, faster, until she finally came apart beneath him, her body wracked with convulsions as she cried out his name.

He let himself go then, burying himself deep inside her as he came with a roar, his body shaking with the force of it. They lay there for a moment, panting and spent, before he pulled out and rolled over onto his back.

He looked over at Y/N, who was lying on her side with her eyes closed. She looked beautiful, her skin flushed and glowing with sweat. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair out of her face, "Y/N?" he whispered.

She opened her eyes, and he was met with a storm of emotions in their depths: fear, guilt, and, strangely enough, desire. "Yeah?" she breathed.

"That... that was..." he trailed off, unsure of what to say next.She gave him a weak smile. "I know."

They lay there in silence for a moment, the weight of what they just did settling between them like a lead blanket. Hyunjin knew that nothing would ever be the same between them after this, and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy the moment.

Minors do not interact

[joelscruff]

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

You can read part one here. i'm so grateful for the positive response for this on the first chapter, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!! Things are already getting smutty, enjoy 💕 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. summary: you're back from college for the summer, staying with your devout catholic parents in your childhood home while they order you around and try to keep authority over you. as an act of rebellion you ask your new neighbor mr. miller to teach you how to play guitar, but it turns out there's a lot more he wants to teach you. (no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, dirty old man joel, corruption (but it's consensual), praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader's family are very catholic), fingering, masturbation word count: 8.1k ao3

You're relieved the next morning when you look out your bedroom window and see your father's police car and your mother's SUV missing from the driveway. They've both already left for work, which means no twenty questions to answer when you go downstairs, no grilling you about what exactly you're going to be doing today. But it's not like you'd tell them the truth anyway.

You pick your outfit very carefully, shoving modest sweaters and long dresses aside as you search for something specific for Mr. Miller. You want him to look at you again like he did yesterday; the thought makes your thighs clench together again as you dig through the depths of your closet. You settle on an old Sunday School dress that you probably haven't worn since you had your final growth spurt, baby blue and simple. You undress and tug it over yourself, trying to ignore the way it tightens uncomfortably around your chest; it's much too small but you're running out of options.

"That's sexy, right?" you ask your silent bedroom, peering in the mirror at yourself. You were much shorter when you wore the dress last; now the hem settles on your upper thighs, leaving your legs completely exposed. It hugs your curves and accentuates your breasts, cleavage pushed up against the neckline so much that it feels like they could pop out at any moment.

You pick up a discarded pink hoodie and zip it on over the dress, hiding where you're practically bulging out of the material. Maybe you'll take it off later, but for now you don't need any of your neighbors reporting to your parents that they saw you walking down the street half naked.

You spend way too long getting ready, changing things about your hair and makeup over and over until you know you can't put off leaving anymore. You grab a quick bowl of cereal and then, with a resigned look of determination, you swap your flip flops with sneakers and head out into the hot summer day.

Not too many people are outside yet; parents have already left for work, kids are still sleeping, dogs have already been walked. You make it to Mr. Miller's without having to say an awkward hello to anybody, for which you're grateful.

He's not sitting on the step when you get there and for some reason it stops you in your tracks, leaving you standing at the end of his walkway like you had yesterday.

What if he's at work, you dumbass?

You hadn't factored in the possibility that he wouldn't be home. You'd had this ridiculous notion that maybe he'd be waiting for you, watching both sides of the street until you appeared and batted your eyelashes and asked him if you could still take him up on his offer. You'd visualized the whole thing. Like a teenager.

Just knock. Just knock and if he's not there, go home and try again later.

You still haven't moved from the end of his walk when the front door suddenly opens. Your eyes widen in surprise as he appears on his front step in all his disheveled glory, putting his hand across his face to block the sun; he's barefoot, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a band you don't recognize on the front, and his hair is sticking up in different directions like he's just woken up. He brings a blue coffee mug up to his lips and takes a sip, eyes on you when he brings it back down, giving you a wry smile.

"Good mornin', babygirl," he says with that deep and slightly rough voice, leaning against the door frame, "Was hopin' you'd come back."

You blink a few times, brain whirring and stuttering helplessly as you stare at him. He's so handsome, so much older and rugged and sexy. You feel your panties get wet again and you can't even be mad at yourself; you're too distracted by the gorgeous man in front of you, looking directly at you, calling you babygirl. He's probably older than your father and yet you can't find a single bone in your body that cares in the slightest.

"Hi." you say softly, almost a squeak.

He smiles a bit wider, "Changed your mind, huh?"

You nod quickly, not knowing what else to say. He glances down at your dress and without thinking you shakily grab the zipper on your hoodie, tugging it down and showing him the full thing. You watch with bated breath as his eyes trail to your chest, looking openly and unapologetically at your breasts. He chuckles to himself and looks at your face again, taking another sip of coffee.

"I was hoping... um..." you bite your lip, trying to find the words, "I, uh-"

"Just come on in, darlin'," he interjects, laughing lightly again, "Don't hurt yourself." He moves back from the door a bit, gesturing for you to come inside.

You don't need telling twice. You put your head down, trying not to show him how nervous you are as you walk up his patio steps and slide past him into his house. You can practically hear your parents' voices in your head: "Don't talk to strangers. Don't go into a stranger's house." You're rebelling in more ways than one today.

"That's a pretty dress," he says behind you once you're inside, and you hear him shut the door. No going back now.

"Thank you." you turn to look at him, feeling out of place standing in the house of a man you don't know. You're just in time to see him looking at your body again and your skin heats once more.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asks with a crooked smile, charming and natural. You tell him and he just smiles wider, tilts his head to the side, "That's pretty."

"Thank you," you say again, "Um, what's yours?"

"I'm Joel," he puts his hand out for you to take, "Joel Miller. Surprised you didn't ask your momma about me."

You take it and feel your knees go slightly weak at his firm grip, big hand dwarfing yours in size, "I - uh, I did. But she just called you Mr. Miller."

He smirks at that, squeezing your hand in his, "You wanna call me Mr. Miller too? You can."

"Um," you're not sure what to say, biting down on your lip again and feeling flustered when he doesn't release your hand, "Uh..."

"You're a shy one, aren't you?" he asks, voice going a bit soft, soothing, "It's alright, darlin'. I don't mean to make you nervous."

"I'm not." you say it too quickly and you both know it's bullshit. He drops your hand and you turn your attention to the room in front of you, an open concept living space with a kitchen on the opposite side; it's nice, although you're surprised someone is living alone in such a big house.

"So do you, uh...do you have a wife?" you figure you should probably get that out of the way first; you're already planning on sinning in one way today, you don't need to add adultery to the list.

"No, just me." he walks past you and gestures for you to follow him. You do, walking to the kitchen and watching him take a glass down from the cupboard and start filling it with water. You stand there awkwardly, smoothing your dress down a bit and looking around the room.

You're so fucking nervous. You don't even know what he's got on his mind, let alone whether or not you're ready to do it. You imagine he'll lead you up to his bedroom, maybe turn the lights off and close the curtains...light a candle? Put on some music? You hope he'll be gentle and slow, that he'll listen to you. You know from your college friends that most men your age aren't really good at setting the mood, knowing how to do things the right way. Maybe because Mr. Miller - Joel - is older... it'll be better?

"Here, sweetheart, breathe," he hands you the glass of water and you take it with trembling fingers, "You don't need to be scared of me."

"I'm not scared of you," you reiterate, shaking your head and taking a sip.

"Right. Just like you weren't scared yesterday?"

You frown and put the water back down on the counter, "I- I wasn't scared."

He chuckles, leaning against the kitchen island and tilting his head again as he looks at you, "Well darlin', I might've gone back in my house but I saw you from the window. You practically sprinted down the street," he smirks at the memory, "Seemed scared to me."

"I wasn't scared. I'm not scared." You're not sure you're telling him or telling yourself.

"You sure? You're all flustered" he murmurs, and suddenly he's reaching up to hold your chin between his fingers, turning your head toward him. Your lips part in surprise, trembling beneath his touch as his thumb strokes gently against your jaw. You feel your face get even hotter.

He smirks at your response, eyes casting up and down your face quickly before he releases your chin and grabs the glass of water from where you'd laid it back down, turning to pour the rest of it down the sink. While his back is turned you fight to regain your composure, willing all the blood to disperse from your face.

"Well, no time like the present," he says, turning back around and walking past you out of the kitchen, "Guitar's in the living room."

You stare after him, brow furrowing in confusion, "What?"

"You still wanna learn that song, don't you?" he calls behind him, picking up his guitar from where it's leaning against the wall. He sits down on the couch and gestures with his neck for you to come over, smug smile still plain as day on his face.

You slowly make your way over to him, heart pounding in your chest. You seat yourself beside him on the couch, close enough that he can show you his guitar but not close enough that you're touching him. You may want him to touch you desperately but that doesn't change the fact that you're still freaking out right now. Because what does he want? You'd genuinely thought he'd meant something different yesterday with that comment about your fingers. He'd been flirting, hadn't he? Or is that just his nature?

"It's a simple chord progression," Mr. Miller - Joel - immediately begins to demonstrate. He strums on the strings, aligning his fingers carefully at the neck of the guitar and angling it in such a way that you can see what he's doing, "We start with an A and then go into G major pretty quickly."

You watch his fingers, long and almost delicate now as he presses his fingertips to the strings, holds them down as he starts to thumb out a tune. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes trained fully on the tender way he caresses the strings, coaxes beautiful sounds out of the guitar with minimal effort.

"Then D," he murmurs, and you notice that his eyes are also directed at his fingers, making sure he's showing you correctly, like he actually cares that he does it right, "And E into F sharp."

It's not like he's speaking another language - you know basic music theory from simply going to school all your life - but you don't fully understand how the notes and chords he's talking about translate into his fingers, into the shapes they make, where they push down. You know nothing about playing guitar and he's only a few moments away from realizing that; you can't help but already feel humiliated. Why the fuck had you lied to him yesterday? What are you even doing here?

"It pretty much repeats like that the whole way through," he says, starting the song over and strumming a bit slower, showing you his chord changes more purposefully, "But as I said yesterday there's lot's of room for some adlibbin' here and there, doesn't have to be by the book."

You feel yourself nod, although you still have no idea what he's talking about. He suddenly stops his movements on the guitar, directing his eyes back to you. You swallow down the nervous lump in your throat once again, willing yourself to look back.

"Wanna give it a try?" he asks, and without waiting for your answer he hands you the guitar. You take it from him with wide eyes, your own hands fitting into place where his had been only seconds ago, still warm; it makes you shiver.

"Um," you look down at the guitar, trying to shape your fingers in a similar way to what he'd done. Your nose scrunches up in concentration and confusion.

"Starts with A," Joel says, and you look up from the guitar to see him smiling softly at you, urging you to play him something.

Your fingers stay frozen on the guitar, tongue darting out to wet your lips. You can feel anxiety burning in the pit of your stomach.

"Okay, now I'm scared," you admit, voice shaky and small.

He doesn't say anything; you look up again and see him peering at you thoughtfully, brow furrowed. You hope he's figuring it out internally so you don't have to say it out loud, admit what a fraud you are.

"...You don't know how to play, do you?" he asks finally.

You bite your lip and hang your head in shame, grip loosening on the guitar, "No. I'm sorry."

To your surprise he laughs, deep and genuine. You lift your head back up to see him settle back in the couch a bit, shaking his head as he grins at you. You can't help but feel yourself smile back at him.

"You're adorable," he says with a sincerity that puts your tummy in knots, your gaze averting his once again, "I mean it, I can't even be mad 'cause you're so sweet, darlin'."

"M'not," you mumble, slightly embarrassed as you hand the guitar back to him and shake your head, "I'm a liar."

He takes it from you, "Why'd you lie? Coulda said you didn't play, I wouldn't have judged you for it."

You shrug, still not looking at him, "I don't know, I..." you sigh, biting your lip, "I wanted... I wanted you to think..." You don't finish but you're pretty sure he understands, aware of him nodding slowly in your peripheral vision.

"You're sweet," he repeats, voice softer this time, "So sweet, babygirl."

You shiver again at the pet name, finally bringing yourself to look at him again. He's still looking at you, dark eyes boring into your skin, lips turned up into that wry smile again.

"C'mere," he says, even softer, and you watch as he open his legs, moves back a bit on the couch and pats the empty spot in front of him. You stare, breath hitching at the realization that he wants you to sit there, "I wanna show you somethin'," he urges, "I won't bite, promise."

With shaky legs you reposition yourself on the couch, getting up and sitting back down between his wide legs. As soon as you're seated he brings the guitar down into your lap and sits up a bit, pushes his chest against your back as his arms wrap around your nervous form, holding the guitar in front of you.

"Watch my fingers," he says quietly, and you find that his voice is speaking directly into your left ear, breath warm and welcome against your skin. You have no choice but to obey, not that you'd even want to make any other choice.

He curves his fingers along the neck of the guitar again, pushing down the strings in a few different places and holding it there. He strums firmly, the back of the guitar pushing lightly into your belly with the tension.

"That's a C chord," he murmurs, strumming again, "See where my fingers are?"

"Yeah," you reply, barely a whisper; your mouth has gone dry.

"You hold your fingers as hard as you can against the strings," he continues, "It hurts at first, when you're learning, but the longer you play the more you build up calluses. You know what calluses are?"

You shake your head, unable to speak, too lost in the warmth of his breath against the nape of your neck, the masculine smell of him tingling your nose. He pulls his hand back from the strings and brings it up near your face, showing you his fingers.

"These are calluses," he explains, referring to the deep grooves embedded in the tips of his fingers, "They help you hold the strings down easier so it doesn't hurt."

You stare at his fingers, getting lost in their length and size, their girth. You feel yourself becoming wet in your underwear, clenching around nothing at the thought of one of those calluses touching you down there where you need it most. Your breath hitches again, thighs rubbing together involuntarily.

"Lemme show you," he murmurs, and to your surprise he suddenly takes your left hand in his and brings it to the neck of the guitar. You watch with bated breath as he carefully positions your fingers over the correct strings, holds them there with his own, "Play that."

With your shaky right hand you thumb the strings at the base of the guitar, a clear chord ringing out into the open room. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs again, charming and soft.

"There you go," he says softly, "First chord. Good girl."

The words send another pulsating wave of wetness into your underwear and you tremble beneath his touch, feeling your brows furrow in pleasure at the feeling of him being so close to you while you feel like this. Your hips buck up a bit but you feel too good to be embarrassed.

"Somethin' wrong?" he asks you gently, voice still close to your ear, "You're all flustered again, babygirl."

You hum, closing your eyes tight for a moment and trying to breathe, but all you can smell is him. All you can feel is him. You swallow tightly when you feel his touch ghost against your thigh, eyes opening to see him press his palm wide against your bare skin. You watch with parted lips as his thumb strokes the skin just below the hem of your dress, eyes hazy when he pushes himself against you from behind a bit tighter.

"Why'd you really come here, sweetheart?" he breathes, almost a whisper, "Tell me the truth."

You take a deep and shaky breath and feel yourself leaning back into him, eyes closing again as he slowly strokes your thigh, "You know why," you whisper.

He hums in response, nosing your ear gently and breathing you in, left hand still holding yours tightly against the neck of the guitar, "I do," he murmurs. You feel as he presses a wet kiss against your earlobe, beard rough against your skin. Your eyes roll back when he takes it into his mouth, sucks gently on it while he squeezes your thigh.

You're in heaven, completely at his mercy as you fall back further against him between his legs, your own going lax and loose the more he touches you. No one has ever done this to you, put their mouth on any part of you that wasn't your lips, put their hands anywhere near where you're currently aching to be touched. You watch as Joel's fingers inch upwards along your thigh, slipping past the hem of your dress. You already know where he wants to put his fingers next.

"I'm a virgin," you squeak without warning, panic suddenly brewing in your stomach. His hand freezes on your thigh and he pulls back from your ear. Why the fuck did you say that?

Now he'll be a gentleman, he'll take you off his lap and tell you to leave, tell you he can't be the one to take your virginity. You've seen this in movies, read it in books, heard it firsthand from your friends in college. Men don't like the responsibility of being your first, don't like the idea of a girl getting attached to them. And Joel... he's a grown man and you're just a twenty one year old Catholic mess with way too much baggage. There's absolutely no way he'll want to touch you now.

"Let's put this down," he whispers, and carefully helps you move the guitar off your lap and place it to the side. Here it comes, he's gonna tell you to get up and go home. You wait for him to inevitably push you from the couch, awkwardly stand up and lead you to the front door.

But that doesn't happen. Instead, you watch with wide and confused eyes as he suddenly puts both hands on your bare thighs, squeezing them gently beneath his wide palms, "You ever been touched like this, darlin'?" he asks you quietly.

You shake your head, "N-no."

His thumbs stroke your skin softly, tenderly. You feel as he sits up a bit more and tightens his legs around you, holding you in place, "You like the way that feels?"

"Yes," you whisper, soft and secret, "Feels good."

"That's good, it's s'posed to," Joel murmurs, nosing your ear again, "Now let's pull up this pretty dress a little bit," the words send a shock to your system, eyes widening in surprise. He doesn't wait for you to help, just immediately goes for the hem of your dress and hikes it up your legs, exposing more of your bare thighs and a hint of your panties, blue and lacy to match your dress, "Oh, you're just a pretty little thing aren't you?" he breathes, voice hot against your ear, "You really never been touched?"

"Never," you repeat, and he just hums and presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, making your breath hitch, "Th-that doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all, sweetheart," he breathes, tightening his grip on your thighs; the feeling of his large palms on your flesh makes you whimper slightly, looking down at where he's holding you and shivering, "Makes me want you more than I already do."

Your pussy is throbbing in your panties and you're sure there must be a stain through your dress, through the couch. You rub your thighs together and whimper again, head falling back against Joel's shoulder. You feel him kiss your hair, watch as his hands slide up your thighs so his fingertips are just slightly touching the edges of your underwear.

"You're all wet, aren't you?" he asks softly, soothingly, "Been sittin' here soaking my couch this whole time, huh? Want me to touch you so bad, don't you, babygirl?"

You hear yourself make a strange noise through your teeth, a hnnng sound that makes him chuckle, "You like that, don't you? You like bein' my babygirl?"

"I do," you whisper.

"That's good," he murmurs, "That's real good, babygirl." His thumbs hook into your panties then, tugging gently, "Now let's take these off," he says, beginning to slide them down, "so I can take a look at this pretty little pussy you've been savin' just for me."

You both watch as your panties slip down your bare legs with ease, dress still hiding your pussy from him entirely. It's impossible not to notice the enormous dark spot in the fabric, glistening in the sunlight. You can't help but feel embarrassed.

"Oh, baby," he groans, fisting them in his hand and thumbing the dark spot tightly, "So wet."

"Why does that happen?" you ask, swallowing around the anxious lump in your throat, knowing you're just advertising your inexperience even more by asking.

"Means you're turned on, sweet girl" he explains, thumb still pressed firmly against the wet spot as he presses another wet kiss to your ear, sloppier this time, "I'm turnin' you on."

"You are," you agree shakily, "It happened last night too, after..."

"After?"

"After I dreamed about you."

He smiles against your skin, dropping the panties to the floor and bringing his hand back down to your thigh; his thumb is wet and sticky against your skin, "You're a naughty little thing, aren't you? Did you touch yourself? Make yourself come thinkin' about me?"

"No," you shake your head, "I haven't... I've never..."

He groans in understanding, but not in an irritated or angry way. It's arousal, you can tell by the way his legs tighten around your trembling form, pulling you in closer. He pulls up the hem of your dress and exposes your wet and aching pussy to the both of you, lips bare and soft against his couch. You hear his breath hitch behind you when it comes into view.

"Fuck," he says, voice low and rough with arousal, "Look at you."

He barely hesitates, reaching down and thumbing your outer lips with both hands, his other fingers splaying against your inner thighs. You squirm at the feeling, brows scrunching together when he gently pinches your soft lips and sucks your earlobe back into his mouth.

"So soft, babygirl," he whispers, releasing it with a wet pop, "Look at that." You don't think he's actually telling you to look, more-so talking to himself as he caresses the outer part of your pussy gently, "So pretty."

"I-um... I shaved it," you whisper, "Just in case."

"Babygirl, you didn't need to do that," he noses your ear and you feel his breath, hot and sticky against your skin, "Woulda been pretty either way."

You feel your cheeks warm, "My roommates said most guys don't like-"

"Am I most guys?" he whispers, and continues to stroke your pussy lips up and down with his thumbs, "You know how old I am, babygirl?"

"N-no." His touch is becoming too much, too distracting. It feels good to have him touching you like this but it's still not where you need him to touch you, the slick part inside that's absolutely aching for his fingers feeling desperately wetter.

"Why don't you take a guess, see how accurate you are."

"Um," you barely understand what he's even talking about, eyes trained on where he's stroking you, "F-fourty?"

He laughs immediately, "Now we both know that's not your real guess, sweetheart."

You bite your lip, watching his thumbs, "Well... I don't wanna... I don't wanna hurt your feelings."

He smiles, "You're sweet. But I don't care, darlin', gimme your real guess."

You sigh shakily, "Fifty."

"Close," he breathes, and you watch with a whimper as he begins to drag his thumbs up and down your wet slit, lips too puffy to show him what's beyond, "That's real close, bit higher."

Higher? Fuck.

"Fifty...three?"

He dips the tip of his thumbs ever so slightly inside your slit, then brings them out again and pushes your own wetness across your outer lips, making your skin glisten, "Higher."

"F-fifty five?"

"Fifty six," he finally says, still thumbing your juices all along your pussy. You're not sure how to respond, surprised by the number but also desperately turned on, waiting for him to finally slip inside where you're begging him to touch, "That make you uncomfortable?" he asks after a moment of silence, and you swear you hear a bit of hesitance in his question as his hands freeze, waiting for you to reply before he goes any further.

"No," you reply, shaking your head slowly, thoughtfully, "It doesn't."

"You're sure?" he asks quietly, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice, "Because I can stop, sweetheart. Just say the word, I'll let you go home."

You shake your head again, more frantically this time at the thought of him releasing you from his embrace, "I promise, Mr. Miller," you whisper, then quickly correct yourself, "Joel."

"You can call me Mr. Miller, babygirl," he whispers, and you watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pulls your swollen lips apart, exposing the innermost parts of yourself to his living room. Your mouth pops open in surprise, eyes widening at how wet and sticky you are, a big drop of your own wetness pushing past your aching hole and dribbling out onto his hand.

"Gonna take care of this perfect untouched pussy, I swear," he groans, rough and low in your ear, pinching your outer lips again as his gaze bores into your sopping cunt, "Gonna make her feel so good."

--

With wobbly legs Joel had helped you up from the couch, chuckling when you'd tripped up almost immediately. With sure and steady hands he'd straightened you up, carefully removed your hoodie and discarded it on the couch, "Won't need this," he'd said softly, "Let's go get in my bed, sweetheart."

Now he holds you on the edge of his bed, inside a bedroom that feels cozy and masculine, that smells like him. His bed wasn't made when he'd lead you inside but other than that he has a clean bedroom, small and comfortable. He now has you sitting in his lap with your legs wide, hooked over his own while you both face the full length mirror on the wall.

"W-what are we doing?" you ask breathlessly, feeling slightly embarrassed at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks are still hot, hair messy and dress falling off, positively debauched and certainly no longer the good little Catholic girl your parents raised. You watch as Joel fingers the hem of your dress again and slowly pulls it up, exposing your dripping pussy to the mirror and to the both of you.

"Wanna show you what I'm doing," Joel murmurs, coaxing your legs even wider and pulling apart your swollen lips once again, showing you the untouched part of yourself you've never seen before, "How else are you gonna learn if you can't see, babygirl?"

You nod slowly, watching as he spreads you wide. You bring your eyes up to his face in the mirror to see the way he's watching you. His eyes are dark and lustful, hair still tousled from the early morning, scruff thick and scratchy against your neck and shoulder. He follows your gaze and peers into your eyes in the mirror, pulls you wider; you squirm a bit and close your eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed at the sight.

"You're shy, arent you?" he whispers, a smile in his voice.

"I've just... I've never..." you shake your head, opening your eyes again to turn and look at him, forgetting about the mirror for a moment, "No one's ever looked at me like this before."

He smiles softly at you, somehow tender and fond despite the part of him that clearly wants to devour you, corrupt you. He takes one hand and brings it to your chin, tilts your face up to his and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, gentle and soft. You kiss him back, eyes closing as you slowly breathe him in, feel his beard rub tantalizingly against your cheek.

"You've done that before, haven't you?" he asks you once he pulls away, finger still on your chin as he looks deep into your eyes, "You've been kissed?"

You nod but bite your lip, "Yes, but...not like that."

He tilts his head, "Like what?"

"Like they really want me," you whisper, eyes falling to his lips and silently wishing he'll do it again, "Like they're not holding back."

Almost like he can read your mind, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours once again, this time gently easing his tongue inside your mouth. You take it openly, loving the way he pushes it against yours, smooth and wet. He tastes like coffee; it's pleasant and warm and you're so distracted by the kiss that you don't realize he's taken his hand from your chin and moved it back to your pussy, carefully sliding his index finger beyond your lips and stroking upward.

Your hips buck immediately, still kissing him hard and loving the way he doesn't pull back, doesn't slow things down or even speed things up, just keeps it to your comfort level, lets you decide what the kiss is. You moan against his mouth when you feel the callus on the tip of his index rub lightly against a particularly sensitive spot. It's only then that you feel you need to pull away for breath, leaving your forehead pressed against his and letting out a long exhale.

"You really needed that, didn't you?" he murmurs softly, calm and gentle, "My babygirl needs to be touched so bad, doesn't she?"

You nod frantically, opening your eyes again, "Please, Mr. Miller," you breathe shakily, "Please make me feel good."

He groans again, closes his eyes and pushes himself up into you; you can suddenly feel something very hard beneath your dress and you're not entirely uneducated; you know exactly what it is. Out of curiosity you grind down a bit on him and he presses his lips to your neck again, humming against the skin.

"That's my cock, you know that right?" he breathes, "You ever felt a cock, sweetheart? Even through someone's clothes?"

You shake your head, feeling that familiar nervousness in the pit of your stomach at the thought. He must sense your uneasiness because he immediately pulls himself up a bit, pushes you forward so you're not seated directly on top of the hard shape of him anymore.

"Don't worry about that, today's lesson is about you," he says soothingly, stroking your pussy again and making you tremble, "I'm gonna teach you how to come, okay?"

You inhale shakily, feeling slightly relieved; it's not that you don't want to see his cock - God knows you really do - but you're so inexperienced, you really have no idea what you're doing. You feel excited - and kind of touched, in a way - that Joel is going out of his way to teach you exactly what you've been missing, things you've only heard about. Today's lesson....it repeats in your mind as you watch him touch you in the mirror, thumbing your lips wide; does that mean there'll be more?

"Okay, babygirl, here's what we're gonna do," he murmurs, breaking you away from your thoughts. "See this lil' nub right here?" You nod, peering in the mirror at the tiny hooded bump Joel is lightly prodding, sending a buzzing electricity throughout your body, "That's your clit, she's the most sensitive part of your pussy."

"I knew that," you breathe "I think."

He smiles at your reply, "You're gonna touch your clit, that's all you're gonna do. Just touch it and rub it until you feel yourself gettin' close," he moves his hand up to palm your stomach, "You'll feel it right here, in your belly. You'll know it's comin'."

"Okay," you whisper, nodding again.

"When you feel it buildin' in there, you tell me, and I'll make you come."

"And coming...that means..." you wince at your stupidity, "That's an orgasm, right?"

"Yes, darlin'," he murmurs; his face is suddenly blocked by your face as he kisses the back of your neck but you swear you can hear him smile, "That's an orgasm. I'm gonna give you your first orgasm, that sound good?"

"Yes," it's almost a squeak, desperate and shaky. You watch in the mirror as Joel takes your right hand and carefully brings it to your pussy, extends your index finger alongside his own and gently presses down, "Oh," you whimper, hips bucking again, "Oh."

"You're okay," he reminds you softly, prodding your finger harder against yourself, "It's just like the guitar, you gotta be firm."

It feels incredible, both yours and Joel's fingers tapping the tiny bundle of nerves with a steadiness you know is only possible because of him. Without his guidance you probably would have already dropped your hand, overwhelmed by the sensation.

"And now you rub," he explains softly, thumb and pinky curling around your other fingers as he holds your index steady, rubs it back and forth against your clit. Your mouth pops open, eyes going hazy again as you watch his movements in the mirror, "There you go," he whispers, and you catch him watching your expression, the pure bliss in your eyes as he makes you feel something you've never felt before, "Good girl, sweetheart, that's it."

"Oh my God," you breathe, aware that you probably shouldn't be taking the Lord's name in vain at a moment like this, but somehow the act feels almost godly in itself, a sensation of pure pleasure that you've never felt before travelling all throughout your body, "It feels- oh my God."

"Tell me," Joel breathes behind you, still holding your hand and letting you slowly start to rub yourself on your own, taking the lead, "Tell me how it feels, baby."

"It's- it's so good," you whine, tossing your head back against his shoulder, "Mr. Miller," you shake your head frantically, "I feel it already, Mr. Miller, in my stomach."

He seems genuinely surprised at that, eyebrows raising in the mirror, "Okay, babygirl," he whispers, "Lemme make you come."

He removes your hand, places it on your thigh. Without any hesitation you bring it up to grip his arm, holding it tightly as he brings his own hand back down to your pussy and starts to rub your clit again, this time at his own pace. Your jaw drops, eyes rolling back as he stimulates you perfectly, finger stroking back and forth at a pace that sends a wet squelching sound throughout the quiet room. You can't even feel embarrassed, too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being touched.

You can't see the mirror anymore, head tilted back so far against Joel's body that you're just staring at his ceiling, mouth open wide as numerous loud and completely uncharacteristic sounds blare from your mouth, long and high and indiscernible.

"That's it," he groans in your ear, a deep rumble that urges you on as he continues to rub you furiously, "There you go, there you go. Fuck, babygirl, give it to me. Fuckin' give it to me."

His words send you over the edge and you feel yourself stiffen in his lap, legs shaking uncontrollably as you writhe within his grasp. He slows his movements, coaxes you through it, continues to whisper praises in your ear as you have your very first orgasm in his arms. Your chest is heaving with exertion as you cry out, tears stinging your eyes.

"Mr. Miller," you whimper, closing your eyes and letting him hold you tight, your grip loosening on his arm, "Mr. Miller." It's like a prayer, the way his name rolls off your tongue. Not even an hour has passed since you first stepped foot in his house and you're already prepared to make Joel Miller your new God, kneel before him and give thanks for everything he's just done for you.

"Shhh," he coos, removing his fingers and letting you relax into his embrace, "You're alright, I've got you."

You continue to whimper and shake, vaguely aware of him slowly beginning to lay flat against the edge of the bed, taking you with him. You lay on top of him, breathing heavily.

"So good," you whisper, voice positively wrecked from what he's just done, "Felt so good."

"I know," he murmurs back, kissing your hair again and wrapping his arms around your middle, "I know, baby."

"M'gonna fall asleep," it's barely a whisper now, quiet and relaxed, "Sorry." You don't last long enough to hear what he says in response.

--

You wake a bit later, confused for a moment when you open your eyes and are greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling. It's only when you look down at yourself and see Joel's duvet wrapped around you that it comes flooding back. You smile unconsciously, inhaling his scent and turning to bury your nose in his pillow. Everything smells like him now, including you.

You glance over at the clock on his bedside table: 12:04PM. You slept for a solid two hours. It doesn't surprise you, not after the shitty sleep you had last night and the absolutely ridiculous orgasm he gave you right before you drifted off, but still....two hours? And he didn't wake you?

You sit up slowly, squinting at the afternoon sun flooding through the blinds on his window. You swear you can hear some faint music coming from somewhere, a stereo nearby? A car passing? Then, your eyebrows shoot up as you fling yourself out of bed and run to the window, opening it up and peering down at the patio below.

Joel is sitting on his front step again, wearing different clothes now; he must have showered after you'd fallen asleep...probably took care of himself as well. The thought makes you shiver but you push it away, instead focusing on the lovely sounds emanating from his guitar, a slow and gentle tune that instantly relaxes you.

You pull back from the window and face the mirror nearby, assessing yourself. You're still the same person you were a few hours ago but something is different; your hair is a mess, makeup smudged, dress disheveled. With a bit of hesitance you slowly pull up the hem and expose yourself, eyeing yourself down there where Joel had touched you. You find that it doesn't make you as nervous to look at it now, unable to help the small smile that appears on your face when you remember the way Joel had worshipped it mere hours ago.

The memory of Joel has you leaving his bedroom quickly, descending the stairs in his house and walking into the open living space once again. You spot your hoodie on the couch and grab it, zipping it back on as you search for your panties; they're nowhere to be found. Your brow furrows as you pull up a few of the couch cushions but come up emptyhanded.

You smooth your dress down; it's long enough that it doesn't show you're not wearing underwear, but you'll probably have to hold it down when you walk home. The last thing you want is to expose yourself to one of your elderly neighbors.

You take a few deep breaths and walk to the front door, readying yourself to face the man who just gave you the best experience of your life. As soon as you open it he turns on the step, still playing his relaxing tune and looking you up and down.

"Hi," you breathe, a little shy, playing with your hands a bit as you walk toward him.

"Hi, babygirl," he says with a kind smile, nodding to you, "Sleep good?"

"Yeah," you reply, shuffling over and settling down beside him on the step, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep for so long."

He smiles again, tilts his head, "You can sleep in my bed as long as you want, darlin'. Any time."

You feel your skin burn, looking down at your bare knees and biting your lip. He keeps playing the song, humming to himself as he does it; it's not a tune you recognize but that doesn't matter, just listening to him play is enough to make you feel warm and fuzzy.

There it is, you think to yourself, the attachment. It's already starting.

You look up at him again, smiling fondly at his look of concentration as he strums steadily. Your gaze falls to his fingers on the neck of the guitar and you swallow, remembering all too well where exactly they've been. The song finishes on a long and sweet note, positive and lovely. You can't help but playfully clap for him, grinning when he rolls his eyes and lays the guitar behind him.

"What song was that?" you ask, eyes bright as he peers over at you.

"Aha, Take on Me," he replies with a smirk, "Never heard that one?"

You shake your head.

"Wow, you really are just a kid, aren't you?" he murmurs, giving you another once-over before he turns back to look at the street, still pretty empty. Your brow furrows at his words, suddenly unsure.

"Is that...does that bother you?" you ask hesitantly.

He turns back to you and immediately shakes his head, "Not at all, sweetheart. Just means I have a lot more to teach you."

Your skin tingles at that and you feel yourself throb uncomfortably against his wooden step. You look down at yourself, making a face.

"What is it?"

"I'm already..." you shake your head, feeling embarrassed, "It's... I'm wet again."

"Jesus," he groans, almost laughing as he tilts his head back and looks over at you with a wide grin, "Don't say that to me, babygirl. Not when you gotta head home."

You look at him, confused, "I do?"

He nods, frowning slightly, "Your momma drove down the street about ten minutes ago, figure she'll probably be wonderin' where you are."

You sigh exasperatedly, rolling your eyes, "I'm so sick of living with my parents. I can't wait to go back to college."

"Poor baby," he says softly, "C'mere." He pats his knee and you go to sit on it but freeze, assessing the street.

"What if someone sees?" you ask quietly, unsure.

He seems to think for a second, then nods and takes your hand. He helps you stand up and leads you quickly into the foyer of his house again, shutting the door and wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"Mmmm," he hums into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "You smell so sweet, darlin'."

"I smell like you," you whisper back, unable to hold back your grin, "I smell like...sex."

He holds you tighter and pulls back to look at you, tilting your chin up and leaning down to kiss your lips. It's soft and unhurried; he still tastes like coffee, bittersweet and delicious,

"You come back here any time you want, okay?" he murmurs against your lips, "I mean it, any time. But especially when that pussy's wet and achin' for me. I'll give her what she needs, babygirl."

You shiver and lean up to capture his mouth again, nodding through the kiss and whispering, "I will, Mr. Miller."

--

You walk home quickly, holding your dress down and feeling more rebellious than you've ever felt in your life whenever the warm summer breeze ruffles past the fabric and onto your bare pussy, reminding you that you're not wearing any panties. They're lost somewhere in Joel's house; the thought gives you butterflies.

Your mother is bustling around in the kitchen when you get home, putting away groceries. She's distracted enough that she doesn't notice when you slip past the kitchen and head upstairs to change your clothes.

After showering - something you desperately didn't want to do but had to - you change into a more modest outfit and retreat back down the stairs, walking into the kitchen so your mom knows you're back.

"Oh, where were you?" she asks, chopping up a carrot on a cutting board in front of her, barely looking up, "Did you meet up with Bethany? Alice?"

Oh shit, you hadn't thought of a cover story, "Uh, yeah, met up with both of them."

"Lovely," she replies with a smile, finishing chopping and turning to look at you, "And they're well?"

"Yep," you nod, hopefully not too much, "I, uh, might be helping out at the soup kitchen soon."

Your mother claps her hands together and walks toward you, "Oh, I'm so happy to hear that," she suddenly furrows her brow, looking at your face with slight confusion, "Are you alright, dear?"

"O-oh, just... just warm from my shower."

She smiles and nods, turning away from you again, "Could you help me chop some veggies? I'm making soup tonight, might be good practice for when you're volunteering."

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

You reach up and touch your face one last time, feeling the heat still etched beneath your skin that you know for a fact is certainly not from your shower. You take one last steadying breath, then walk forward to help your mother.

You come back here any time you want, Joel's voice echoes in the back of your mind. You start to wonder how long you'll be able to last, but you already know the answer.

[callixspod]

Your affection. [Read ID]

might make an animatic out of this BUT!! here's more of my brain blasted insanities. Rambles of "I<3U" AU below here ↓

What began as a simple one off story about a living digital consciousness inside a video game to be implemented on Persona 4, and their unused game files hidden behind folders, left to collect dust. But it still remains, waiting for anyone to discover it.

I can't put on the details on how Yosuke even gained sentience, but I can tell you now that this AU simply took place on Persona 4 Vanilla. (Not golden. As much as it has its own content I will be sticking with its roots. So yes, Yosuke didn't own/bought a motorcycle. That event never happened.) Hanamura's odd behavior only happened when the Player bought the game with a specific player ID. So their gameplay experience will be on their perspective of how this one character manages to know, everything about them. Also slightly close to creepypastas which, I loved. Huhu.

This can be seen as a Yume or Souyo ship perspective so pick your poison

Now it's time for Yosuke's unique behavior towards the player when they progress the game. His depraved ass was already set to go off when the player was given the option to pick miscellaneous interactions between the characters, mostly to follow up Yosuke's questions or any one of the investigation team to mention anything about Yosuke. The options being "What kind of girls do you prefer?", "Looking great [insert name]" or the famous "Which ones are you looking forward to see in a swimsuit"

If you're like me and didn't indulge on having a romantic subchoice to any of the members, that's where it triggers the start of a few bugs and glitches manifested behind the scenes, fuelling the code until it couldn't automatically run on itself, but from something else manually taking over. Manifesting the game to not coordinate with its ordered storyline, changing the system to be primarily more unique than others.

When Yosuke only appears for a few days on the weekend, suddenly his model would stand in position to a day that he was not meant to show up. He was meant to show up on a Sunday. So why was he here out in daylight on a Saturday? Other strange occurrences are if whenever Yosuke was on scene, closeups and corrupted texts would come in to reach out to the Player, sending a message that only he and the other side of the screen can see.

Now his normal dialogue never wound up to show from the screen, simply replaced with vague, short-ended questions asking them if "Are you there?" "Can you hear me?" "I can't see you, but I can still hear your voice." "Will you show me someday?" That last part was not a suggestion. Really demanding, hard for him to know he'll be left alone all over again if the Player turns off their game, aw :( And he keeps remembering the shit I gave to you even when I didn't need some of them.

So that's it? I think??? 😭 There will be more, later I'm rlly tired.

until then, have what's served on this 4 stat Yelp restaurant.

[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Pulling into the lonely gas station, my eyes quickly find what I'm looking for, a pair of blue lights emanating in the darkness. The glow is coming from the gas attendant's skull: clear indication that he's a Moonlight™ employee.

"Good evening, sir," he says with the overly-endearing tone of a gracious host, "How may I be of service tonight?

I don't hide my distaste for the pathetic menial worker, leaning on his mop and waiting for my reply like he's got the best job in the world. He doesn't actually believe that. He doesn't even know what he's saying, let alone doing!

"Just fill her up," I grunt.

"You got it, sir!" he beams, tending to my car with a pep that's out of place for the late hour.

Moonlight™ was the app that revolutionized working culture forever. It allows the user to sign up for a job while they sleep. All they have to do is doze off and some insufferable AI from Moonlight™ will resume control of the body via remote connection. People like it because they get paid work without experiencing all the boring hours and insincere customer interactions. Subsequently, they always get the same unbearably eager personalities stuffed in their bodies. Even without the glowing eyes, their idiotic grins would make them stand out a mile away!

"How has your day been, sir?" he contines mopping as the gas slowly pumps.

"Don't try to chat," I snap.

"Of course, sir," he doesn't miss a beat, smiling as he returns his neon gaze to the sidewalk he's swabbing.

I just roll my eyes and wander inside. The app doesn't record memories while it's in control, so this guy has no idea how humiliated he should feel. No one should have a shit-eating grin on their face working the night shift as a gas station janitor! I'd die before I gave up my dignity to Moonlight™ like this fucking loser!

On the TV behind the register, an ad plays...

The costumed man on the left steps forward and announces, "Join the revolution. There are over forty-two-million Moonlighter's taking advantage of their sleep! That could be you!"

The statistic makes me cringe. It's nearly doubled since the last time I checked...

The man on the far right of the screen happily taps in, adding, "We're constantly expanding our scope, so check with your employer! If your job doesn't already have a Moonlight™ option, then ask your boss to give you one!"

God, they're pressuring people now? Some jobs should not be done by an AI puppeteered Moonlighter...

Finally, the man in the center steps forward to deliver his lines, "Remember, Moonlighting is a safe and healthy way to not only make money but also get a good night's rest! Why work all day, when you can do it in your sleep!" his head turns, making it seem like he's smiling at either of his coworkers, "After all, we are!"

The three men laugh in unison, like true colleagues chumming up at work, but I know the truth. These three are worse than actors, they're empty marionettes for the Moonlight™ corporation. I doubt they'd ever even met each other in real life...

"Shut up!" I groan, smashing the power button to turn it off.

This world is going to shit. Moonlight™ has grown too large over the past year for there not to be some conspiracy or ulterior motive. I don't know what it is: the elite keeping the working class in their place, our government influencing our decisions, a foreign country converting us into their slaves! It all sounds crazy, but I don't think a single theory is impossible with an app like Moonlight™.

I'm the only one probing into this mess. I may have only worked as a detective for a few years, but I never did any of it fucking asleep!

A few days later, I track down my first lead...

"Good morning, sir," the garbage man says in that unnaturally smooth cadence they all have, "Is there any trash you need collected?"

"I just have some questions," I snort.

One hand pulls the hem of my shirt over my nose while the other swats at the flies. These garbage trucks are absolutely filthy. I doubt the garbage companies even bother washing them out anymore, but why should they if their workers are soulless husks without the ability to care? The man in front of me seems completely oblivious to the mixture of rotting smells and accompanying bugs. His glowing eyes don't even blink as a fly lands on his face, crawling through the hairs of his beard. He's probably lucky that he goes home with no memory of this downright awful job.

"Are you looking for employment with Moonlight™ incorporated?" his smiling lips stir the bug on his face, but it quickly buzzes into the moist retreat of the man's dark armpit, "I'd love to help you install the app and-"

"No," I cut, "Just open the truck. I accidentally threw out something I shouldn't have."

I study the man's frozen grin for anything. It's a test. The Moonlight™ AI is designed to accept demands from free-willed customers, but I have a suspicion that the building nearby is an undocumented base for the company. If I'm right, the company would hate for anyone to root through the garbage of their secret lab...

"...I apologize, sir, but the garbage has already been compacted, and it is unsafe for non-employees to look inside. Please let me know what it is you are looking for and I will search for you."

His artificial glee didn't wane, but the blue light in his eyes did flicker just barely. This guy might be asleep, walked around by remote AI tech, but I could still tell he was lying. I'd like to see one of the Moonlight™ detectives figure that out. As I said, some things are better done the old-fashioned way...

"Well, thanks anyway," I snark, planting a slap on his sweat-soaked back. He says something about it being his pleasure as he resumes handling the garbage, flies eternally buzzing around his smiling head and glowing eyes.

Continuing my investigation, I pop down in the sewer, looking for an underground entrance to Moonlight™'s secret lab...

"Are you lost, sir? Let me help you."

I've had to breathe through a mask to put up with the heavy cloud of steaming sewage, but the Moonlight™ septic worker seems fine, smiling with an open mouth, specks of God-knows-what dried on his teeth.

"No, I'm where I should be," I dismiss him and march past.

Suddenly a muddy glove sticks out and holds my chest. "I'm afraid you cannot pass, sir," his smile is as strong as ever, but the trademark glow of his eyes intensifies.

I've never felt more sure about my suspicions. This mind controlled worker seems ready to fight rather than let me pass. I wonder if this poor soul knows he's being used as a guard as well as being a Moonlight™ sewage worker.

"Why don't you show me the way out then," I relent.

"Of course, sir," his hand removes itself from my chest, leaving a dirty print, "The sewer is a dangerous place for civilians."

I follow as he marches me out of the sewer. It's better to leave and come back later with a plan. Today, I confirmed my suspicions, but tomorrow, I'll finally see what secrets they're cooking up in that lab. I return home and end the day with the satisfaction of being close to a major discovery. Sleep finds me quickly...

Waking up in my bed, I check my phone and find an unsettling message waiting for me...

"Congratulations on finishing your first shift with Moonlight™!" the text reads, "Here is a photo of you hard at work last night!"

"What the FUCK!"

I jump out of bed, but instantly everything feels off. My back aches and my legs are more tired than they were last night! My pajamas are uncomfortable, pinching in areas like someone else dressed me in them! My mind is racing with confusion, and an overwhelming sense of self-consciousness rushes over me. My face burns from the violation, but most of my fear is focused on the strange feeling lingering in the back of my private area.

"What did they do to me?" I try to be pissed, but all I can do is whimper.

Suddenly my phone rings...

"Hello," I growl.

"Good morning, sir," a familiarly gracious man's voice rolls through the call.

"Tell me who the fuck this is!"

"Someone who noticed you snooping the other day, sir," his voice sounds like it's smiling.

Suddenly it clicks. Whoever's calling me from Moonlight™ would never use their own phone and voice. They must be using some poor schmuck that thinks he's working an honest job right now. How am I ever supposed to find who's behind all these layers of lies?

"You can hind behind your brainless puppets," I sneer, "But I will not stop looking into this fucked up company!"

"But now you're one of our puppets, sir. I'm not sure how much credibility a detective has if he spends his nights working the room at the dirtiest club in town..."

"That's sick..." I whisper, thinking about the picture on my phone. The idea of me gleefully stripping for a room of disgusting old men makes me shiver.

"Good luck with your investigation, sir," the voice continues, "But just understand that every time you sleep, your body will get up and report to that club. I have to admit that you're hiding a rather tight body under that trench coat of yours."

"You were there?" I mutter.

"Oh I had to meet the man poking his nose where it didn't belong, sir. I got very familiar with you. You were very friendly last night, so I poked something of mine where it didn't belong."

The voice on the other line laughs, and all I feel is utter humiliation. I hang up the call and stare at the photo he'd sent. It was me alright, smiling like a maniac in the gayest outfit I've ever seen. I didn't like my body being dressed like that. I hate that I was happily busting my ass for the enemy. He had to have been getting off at my humiliation last night. I'm sure he relished every second of what he did to me. I don't even want to think about the sensation left in my ass.

I need to push this investigation faster.

Because tonight, when I go to sleep, I'll be helpless to prevent this from happening again.

[the-whispers-of-death]

I've been meaning to write for Sugar Daddy!Price, so here it is. This is me caving into my personal desires.

Minors and Ageless Blogs Do Not Interact!! While this post is SFW, my blog isn't!!

Perhaps you're in need of more money because of your student debt, your inflated rent, or simply because you want to live a more lavish lifestyle. Either way, you find yourself one of those sugar baby websites, putting yourself out there for all potential sugar daddies to see.

It took you a few failed sugar daddies, who only wanted you for sex, to find John Price. He was a military man, which made you wary, but he seemed really sweet in his chats with you and the real kicker?

He didn't want you to have sex with him.

So despite your initial hesitance, you took up John's offer of going out to dinner with him to sort out all of the details of your arrangement. You put on the fanciest suit you owned, leaving the house and getting into the very nice car that John sent over to pick you up.

When you got to the restaurant, which was indeed as fancy as you thought it'd be, John was there to greet you. He hadn't yet gotten seated at the table, leading to him gently guiding you as you two followed the waiter to your table.

The hand he placed at the small of your back warmed you through your clothes, as if it was touching bare skin. His pressure was firm, but not too firm to feel as though he was the only one driving your footsteps forward. It was more protective than commanding.

"Here, let me get that for you," John murmured as he went to pull out your chair for you. Despite you both being men, he clearly seemed to still want to be a gentleman, pushing your chair in when you sat down.

He ordered the drinks, giving you the option of an alcoholic drink or a non-alcoholic one. As the waiter left you two to go over the menu after giving you your drinks, you found it was the perfect time to start the conversation.

You worried your lip briefly before speaking. "So you said you're not looking for sex, but what are you looking for?" you asked, curiosity dripping in your voice. "What does being your sugar baby entail?"

John smiled at your question, leaning back in his seat to look at you fully. "It doesn't entail much, I'm away on deployments most of the time. I just want someone to take out on dates and to be in my presence when I am home from deployments," he answered, blunt to the point where you were surprised by his honesty. "I don't expect you to only have one sugar daddy or even not have a boyfriend, though I will still pay you even if I'm on deployments, I just ask to have your attention when I am home."

"Too busy to date?" you teased, relishing in the way your comment made a mischievous glint sparkle in Price's blue eyes.

"I am too busy to date and most people don't want a partner who's away for months on end." John swiped a drop of wine off his bottom lip before it could fall, your eyes instinctively tracking the movement. He then refocused on you. "Sugar babies are much easier in that respect, I don't have to worry about someone not liking waiting for me because they're getting paid."

You took in his words, mulling it over in your mind as the waiter came back, taking your orders. You then glanced up at John, taking in his handsome features and the offer he was giving you.

It was so nice to know that even when he was going to be deployed, he'd still be sending you money. Part of you felt like you were cheating him out of a good service, but the part of you that craved the money couldn't care. He clearly didn't.

As the food arrived, you two continued to sort out everything, John writing things down for when he'd draw up a contract for you two to sign. The rest of the dinner went well and since he was paying you for this dinner, you offered to come back to his place despite the fact that there was no contract yet.

John thought it over a while before shaking his head and gently turning you down, kissing your forehead and placing you in the car. He bid you goodbye before closing the door, signaling to the chauffeur to drive you back home.

You had a feeling being John's sugar baby would be interesting to say the least.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[roxygen22]

The Beautiful Boy Bus Stop Story was so cute! Would it be too much to ask for a part 2? The interactions between the pair was adorable! Love your stories. :)

Ask and ye shall receive! What do y'all think? Does it need a Part 3?

Bus Stop (Part 2)

Catch up on Part 1 here

Ever the gentleman, Nic held the door to the diner open for you. Once he stepped in after you, he scanned the room.

"Wow, it's like straight from a 50's TV show," he mused. Before you could respond, a voice rang out from the kitchen.

"Hey, [Y/N]! Have a seat, honey, and we'll be right with you," one of the servers called.

"Sooooo, do you come here often?" Nic joked as he followed you to your usual booth and sat across from you, facing away from the kitchen.

You shrugged and put on an innocent face. "Sometimes, I get tired of my own cooking." He didn’t need to know [yet] just how domestically challenged you were.

Cheryl, who often waited on you when you stopped by after work, appeared at the end of the table. "I was wondering if I would see you this week! And I see you brought a friend this time." She grinned and winked at you as she set down the menus in front of each of you. "What can I get you two to drink?"

You blushed at her lack of subtlety, hoping Nic wouldn't be put off. "I'll have a Coke."

"I'll just have some water, please," Nic responded politely.

"One water, one Coke, coming right up. I'll give you some time to look over the menu." As she stepped toward the kitchen, Cheryl turned on her heel and waved to get your attention. She pointed at Nic with one hand and signaled a thumbs up with the other. "Nice!" she mouthed.

You dropped your chin to hide the smile pulling at the corners of your lips. Luckily, Nic didn't seem to notice as he browsed the options. Not needing the menu, you took the chance to study his face up close. The way his dark hair curled into perfectly tousled ringlets. The light dusting of freckles across his cheekbones. The small scar just to the left of his no-

Your investigation was cut short when he set down the menu and looked back at you with those gorgeous eyes framed by lush lashes.

"So, uh, do you work downtown? I assumed since you're already on the southbound route when I get on the bus," he inquired.

You shook yourself from your stupor. "Oh, yes, I do. I'm a paralegal at Warner, Fitzgerald, and Associates. But, I'm studying to be a lawyer, though."

"A lawyer, huh? Impressive. How much lo-"

Before he could continue, Cheryl returned and set the drinks down on the table. "Alright, are we ready to order?" Nic gestured for you to speak first.

"I'll just have my usual," you said, handing the menu that you never opened back to her.

"And you, dear?" Cheryl asked, turning to Nic.

"I'll, uh, have the same." He flashed a smile at you before handing over his menu. "Thank you."

After Cheryl turned away, you leaned forward toward him. "You don't even know what my usual is."

Nic shrugged. "Perhaps not, but everything on the menu looked good."

You giggled and sat back. "Well, prepare to be amazed, then." He smiled that gorgeous smile in return that caused you to glitch again. Was there anything not perfect about this guy?

Realizing you were probably all but drooling at this point, you cleared your throat to break the brief awkward silence and regain your composure. "So what about you?"

"Hmm?" He tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. An adorable one.

"Sorry. What do you do for work?" you clarified.

"I'm, uh...I'm a writer."

"You don't seem too sure about that, Nic," you teased, but then quickly froze, realizing that he probably wasn't yet ready for your brand of humor. To your relief, he chuckled and clasped his hands on the table.

"I am putting it out into the universe that I will be an accomplished author one day. But in the meantime, I am working downtown at the news station while I am going back to school."

"Back?" you ask curiously.

"Well, I didn't finish the first time due to some, uh, complications. I had to figure some things out about life first."

You could tell by the way Nic cast his eyes down to the table that there was more to the story than could be unpacked at present. Without thinking, you reached out and placed your hand on top of his.

"A winding road makes for a much more interesting story than the straight and narrow, Mr. Writer," you replied reassuringly.

Nic glanced up at you and half-smiled before looking down again at your hand. "I suppose you're right." He rotated one palm up to hold yours.

A tiny gasp escaped your lips. ::Is this really happening?:: you thought to yourself. Nic's thumb grazed your knuckles, leaving a trail of fire from his touch. Much to your chagrin, Cheryl cut the moment short by walking up with your plates. Nic cleared his throat and pulled back to make room on the table.

"Here we go," she announced. "Two open-faced cheeseburgers with a fried egg on top and a side of curly fries. Enjoy! I'll check on you again in a bit."

"Wow," Nic exclaimed. "Can't say I've ever had an egg on a burger before."

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," you responded before unabashedly taking a huge, ungraceful bite of your own burger, leaving a bit of mustard on the corner of your lip.

"You've, uh, got something right...," he paused to point at his own cheek to demonstrate.

"Oh!" You hurriedly grabbed your napkin to wipe it away, bringing attention to your deep blushing.

Nic laughed. "Hey, it's cool, it's cool! Now, where do I even start with this burger?" He joined the halves and brought it to his mouth, manfully taking a big bite to match yours. He chewed a moment before his face lit up. "Oh man!"

"See?! And you dared doubt me," you teased.

"I vow to never doubt you again." Nic locked eyes with you and blushed with his own admission. He laughed it off, and the two of you continued to chow down, occasionally taking a break to talk about classes, what the other likes to do for fun, and other enjoyable small talk.

Cheryl stopped by to check on you as you both picked at the last of your fries. "Can I get you two anything else? Maybe the usual milkshake?"

"Oh, no, I'm stuffed," you admitted.

"Maybe next time," Nic added as he retrieved his wallet.

::Next time?!:: Your heart raced. Cheryl picked up on it, too, and winked at you again when she returned his card.

Check closed, you and Nic slowly walked out of the diner. "I had fun tonight. Getting asked out on a date was not how I pictured today going, but I'm here for it," he said, hands in his pockets as he walked alongside you down the street toward your place.

"Same. While there was some premeditation on my part," you replied through a laugh, "I didn't dare speculate what would happen after I said hello."

"I'm glad you did. Say hello, I mean."

"Me, too." You slowed to a stop, forcing him to stop and turn back to you. "As much as I don't want this evening to end, this is my street." You jutted your thumb at the street sign at the intersection. "Will I see you on the bus tomorrow?" you asked, hope evident in your tone.

"I have a, uh, standing meeting after class on Wednesdays."

"Oh, right." You visibly deflated. "I forgot today is Tuesday, not Monday. You never get on the bus on my commute home on Wednesdays."

"You notice when I'm not there?" Nic asked in disbelief.

"Always." You smiled as you looked up into his eyes, following his movement as he stepped in closer.

"[Y/N]?" he breathed.

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

<><><><><>

Masterlist

@croatianprincess @bluizh @groovy-lady @pmak2002

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Always have but never hold

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Chapter six makes it's appearance. I'm once again so thankful for all the love.

warnings: past trauma, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of sexual interactions, therapy.

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Nothing cut through the numbness. It felt like grief all over again. Just this hit Carmy in a completely different way because no one else was feeling what he was feeling. No one else understood. No one else cared. The apartment that beforehand was a safe sanctuary for him. A place where Carmy could finally breathe. Where he could strip away all pretense of composure. Where he was free to crumble. Where you always were. Reaching for him. Holding him. Hugging him. Soothing him. Now it felt like a cage. Like a cruel - in your face. Constantly shouting at Carmen, you fucked it, you fucked it, you fucked it this time.

No matter where Carmen turned, he saw you. The bedroom was still somewhat full of your clothes. There were pieces of your you all around, so the morning when Carmy found that you had left one of your favorite rings behind, one that he had watched you look at for weeks, one that he had bought for you out of one of his first bigger pays, he had slipped it onto his chain. Turning it between his fingers when anxiety struck. Telling himself that you didn't leave it because you hated him; you left it because you were in a rush, and now, once in a while, you remembered it and didn't feel complete.

Carmy had sat in the living room almost every evening, flipping through your books and the old portfolios. Trying to grasp that sense of you. Keep it locked in the apartment; don't let it fade away. Even leaving some books that you usually read open before he dragged himself to the restaurant so that when he returned he would see them like that. Used. And until his brain caught up, a sense of you being there would flood him. A rush of hope would fill him, only to be crushed. Because you weren't there, and the more days went by, the more he doubted you were ever coming home to him.

Were you, by any chance, doing any better? No. Where Carmy struggled with constant glimpses of you, you were crushed by the lack of Carmy around you. While the anger was fresh, it soothed you. That there was no resemblance to him in Copenhagen. That you were miles away. That he didn't know where you went. That you didn't have to fear bumping into him in the street. Until all of that went sour. Until it all left you feeling nothing but alone.

Copenhagen felt as friendless as Chicago, if not more. And you had locked yourself in the restaurant's toilet, sobbing with a palm over your hand. When you realized that it was never about a country or a city. Sure, Chicago wasn't your number-one pick, but it definitely wasn't the worst option. It was not about the apartment or its size. All those things didn't make up a home. Because none of them were meant to last. People moved around constantly. Preferences changed too. It was Carmy who was supposed to be forever. Carmen was your home. No matter the location you were in. Anywhere you went, it would be manageable as long as he was by your side.

After that realization, a second wave of sadness hit. Because now everything in Luca's apartment felt off. Felt so not Carmy-like. It felt wrong being here, hence why you started to barely spend time there. It was too clean. Too put together. You missed your little mess. The mess you made together. Missed the fact that Carmy was storing his denim in the oven, even if you bickered over it. Missed your piles of books or how Carmen looked laying between them. Missed knowing what the nooks and crannies held.

Most nights now, you sneaked out of Luca's embrace. Thankful that you managed to jolt from your sleep without waking him up. Yet feeling guilty that nothing but you was making him so tired. During those nights, the voices in my head barked the loudest. Not good enough. Unlovable. Replaceable.

You hated that even your mind was against you. Altering your memories. Scarring your heart and self-esteem even more deeply. If before you only saw yourself as small. Humiliated over and over again. Yelled till your skin crawled. Spat at and shoved around. Now. Now it was always you walking up the stairs to your apartment. Happy to show off the new project that your professor had approved. Only to open the door to the trail of clothes. Carelessly splattered around the place. Carrying an assent of lustful rush. The dread and denial. Shaky steps as you walked towards the bedroom. Ignoring the obvious. Still childishly trying to convince yourself that the obvious moans were only in your head. But they were not. Because right in the same bed you slept in hours ago, your boyfriend was balls-deep inside a girl you've never seen before. Ezra's face had faded through the years, which your mind used to full advantage. So now, night after night, without even needing to fall asleep, all you saw was Carmen fucking Claire, smiling back at you with a sickly smirk that didn't suit his features. Until you would jolt up, trying to push the image as far away as you could.

"Hi...", Carmen was standing outside the somewhat old building. One hand in the pocket. A hat on his head because he was feeling anxious. Too seen. Too out there. "You don't have to reply", he added shortly after, just as anxiety about not knowing what to say next crept in. "I hope you are safe, amm...", He's been doing this ever since you left. The next morning, he ran out to buy a new phone. Your number was the only thing he cared for. It soothed him in a way. To still somehow have this piece of you. His only chance to reach you. "I'm also sorry, really sorry", he blurted out, brushing his hand over his mouth and feeling the tears pick up slowly. "You call... or write, or anything when you want, yeah?", he said with a voice so small, without a doubt, you'd be able to feel just how lost he was, right? You knew him better than anyone else. "You can call to yell if you want to, just be okay, okay?", Carmy added, taking a sharp breath in, a moment of silence. "I will go now. I'm going to that meeting. You know the one", his voice trailed off, followed by the sound of beeping.

"Here you are. For a second, I thought you fled Copenhagen", you jolted slightly, head immediately turning to the side where the sound came from. The delicate features that Luca carried instantly made you ease up. His hands were full of different plates, and for a split second you wanted to jump up to help, but then you remembered that he was way better at all of this than you would ever be, so you left him to it until he was right by the little table you were seated by.

One thing about Luca's place that you did grow to love was the upper-level balcony. Since his apartment was on the top level, the views were incredible. So full of freedom. Never-ending breeze. You sneaked here often now, even during the night. A blanket in your hand as you cocooned your body in it. Letting the wind carry your thoughts away.

"Is that...", Luca pointed to the sketchbook that rested on the side of the table. Your eyes fell onto the piece of paper as well. Knot instantly tightened in your throat, yet you managed to grog out, "Carmen yeah...".

Luca nodded softly. No big reaction followed suit; no disappointed remarks. In a way, that's why you loved Luca so much. His first reaction was never to judge or put you down and make you feel small. Most times he didn't agree, but he never put himself in a position where he would try to make it seem that his opinion in some way was more important or more right. Luca wanted to understand and help you understand where all of it was coming from.

So you weren't too surprised when he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?". You hesitated at first. A logical part of you was aware that you shouldn't be doing this. Drawing someone who you were still upset with. Who had said loud and proud that another woman was the only good thing from his past. But your body, all the little cells, and the soul itself were too firmly intertwined with Carmy's for you to just walk away without turning back.

"I listened to his voicemails and", you sighed, reaching for the sketchbook before handing it to Luca, "Drew him while doing so". You watched the way his gaze danced over the paper. Falling over every inch of it, following every line. A sudden urge to yank it from Luca's grip arose, but you only held onto the sleeves of your shirt tightly. "When was the last time you drew?", Luca asked, his eyes now meeting yours. "Just now", you stated blankly, and Luca instantly rolled his eyes, letting out a low huff, "Okay, smart-ass, I'm being serious".

And you knew that he was. Painting had been a big part of you for as long as you could imagine. At the age of ten, you had gotten into so much trouble when you painted over all the hallway walls while your parents were away. The end outcome wasn't pretty because no one was happy, and well, you got a rather big punishment, but that was the first time you realized that this was the only way you could breathe. Process the world around you. Deal with all the big emotions. "Over a year ago", you muttered, suddenly unable to hold Luca's gaze. "And how does it feel?", "I can still do it", you shrugged your shoulders quickly. Luca let out a low laugh, "And do it really well. Scary, actually, looks like he's looking straight at me".

Your heart skipped a beat at those words. And maybe that's what you wanted to capture. What you had been missing the most. The depth of Carmy's eye. The light blues dancing in them. The way nothing else mattered when he was looking at you. How you always felt safe under his gaze. How loved and seen they made you feel. You bit down on your lip, shutting your eyes tightly and fighting the tears.

"You didn't have a proper conversation with him", Luca's voice was sweet, calm, and all, but his words rubbed a wound too sore still. Too aching still. "Oh, the conversation was more than proper", your tone was much sharper now. Like a bee ready to sting, like a scorpion. Pushed in an unwanted direction. "With him panicking and you deep in your head? Your and my definitions of proper are different, bunny", Luca huffed. You knew this was coming. You could tell from his body language over the past couple of days. He fussed over you for the time being. But now he was upfront, trying to push you to move, not just sit there and dwell. "Don't do this", you muttered, silently pleading with him to drop this for a bit longer. Because you still didn't know. You didn't have an answer as to how your heart was feeling.

"Right, what's the plan then? You will hide in Copenhagen for the rest of your life?", it was a jab, and it definitely hit the mark perfectly.

"If you don't want me here, just say...", you pushed your chair back quickly, feeling the frustration growing within you. Fight or flight mode activating instantly. "You're deflecting", Luca said softly, and this time his velvety voice made you snap. "Fuck you", you hissed, ripping the drawing out of his hands and backing away instantly. "Bunny", and it's so much more like order now. No longer a gentle caress. Making you stager in your steps. "I have to give you a nudge because we both know...", Luca started, but you quickly cut in.

"Know what? That I'll get back with him, just like with Ezra? That I'll forgive a cheater? Will I get my heart broken, and you'll have to be the one to pick up the broken pieces?", now you were less than a step away from Luca's face, finger jabbing in his chest as the words spilled out of your mouth. You wanted him to fight back, to get mad, but instead, he just wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to his just as the tears spilled over your face.

"Well, I'm still Carmen; I talked about my brother and his addiction and all that, but...", those meetings were exhausting. Truly. Leaving Carmen barely functioning after. But he still went. He listened at first. To everyone. To their stories. Pain. Losses. It didn't drown out his own pain. No, it stayed the same, but he managed to talk about Mikey, but he stopped midway because ripping these wounds open was so painful. Too painful, and he always imagined he wouldn't be alone.

"I always thought that the first time I would come here, I would have my girlfriend...my... my girl, with me", Carmen said, swallowing thickly. "She was there when I got the call. She...", he shook his head, "I don't even remember how those days went. She fed me, she showed me, and she helped my family plan it all. Well, she almost did it all herself because of my family." Flashes of you dipping in and out of the family house filled his mind. Carmen rarely thought of that day. He wanted his mind to destroy whatever it was. His mother screamed. Richie was trying to calm her down. Sugar sobbed while begging Richie to be more gentle, and Carmy just sat there. He remembers how his mom threw the flowers you bought for the grave at him, or maybe at you. But you stepped in, right in front of him. Water and petals hitting your chest. A shiver ran down his back.

"She gave up her life to move here, and I never told her what it meant for me", Carmen quickly tightened his fist at the anxiety. "My family loved Claire... Claire is not my girlfriend", he added quickly, almost in a defensive manner, "I grew up with all the Claire so pretty now; you should be with her; she would be so good for you. I... Had never been good enough for them, and I just...", he stuttered, "When I saw her now, I was like, what if this is the only way to bring my family back? Finally, do something and make them all happy?", Carmy quickly ran a hand over his face. His palms were sweaty. He felt those same tingles running through his body. "But it felt so wrong, so... like a ghost from the past suffocating me, and in revisiting that, I... lost the most important thing in my life". Biting his lips, Carmen tried to look straight again. The weight of those words leaving his mouth stung and he sure was not prepared for it.

You wanted to stay at the apartment. The outburst of emotions still hung heavily on your shoulders, but Luca was going back to the bakery, and he was determined to drag you out of the house. Even if you stayed there for five minutes, it still meant at least a solid four minutes of walking outside. His arm was draped over your shoulders. One of his AirPods was in his ear, the other in yours, as you listened to one of the old playlists you two had made together. Luca convinced you to see your old therapist once more. "At least a couple of times", he had reasoned, "Till you sort through everything that's going on in here right now", he had pointed to your temple. You agreed because putting your mental state on his shoulders was just too much. Luca already had to deal with your nightmares. Not to mention the outbursts like today.

You were a second away from asking him if he'd need your help around the back or if you'd be able to just eat whatever Chris decided to place in front of you when your phone rang. You stopped instantly. Your eyes darted up to Luca. You weren't sure what you were silently asking of him, but you were more than thankful when he reached into your back pocket and pulled your phone out. "Unknown number", Luca muttered, watching your face pale. Your heart sank instantly. What if this is the hospital? What number was called when they found Mikey? Have they found Carmen? You placed your hand on Luck's chest, steadying yourself. One of his arms wrapped instantly around your back as he pressed the green button. The cursing on the other side filled your ears, and you instantly closed your eyes.

"Hello", Luca said, but it felt like the caller didn't even listen. "I just quit", the voice said, and your head instantly jarred towards the phone. "I quit, so did Marcus, and... Wait... Sorry...Must have", you quickly snatched the phone from Luca's hand. "Sydney?", you asked wearingly; you must have forgotten to put her phone number into yours. "Yeah, it's me, and Marcus is here", you heard a distant hello that made you smile weakly. "What's going on? What happened?", you asked, hearing a deep sigh leaving Suddenly lips, before she muttered something to Marcus, "It's insane here without you. Carmy is an absolute piece of shit".

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Taglist: @nishinoyahhh @thewulf @shewasthelimit @chatitajens @azxulaa @hidingfromtex @randomhoex @hopplessdreamer @lostinheavensworld @jackierose902109 @gallaghrh @gabbycoady13 @harrysmatcha @lady-bellyn @lovejoyenjoyer @infinitelycharmed23 @royalestrellas @hanula18 @thoughtfulmoonchild911 @buckys-winter-child @arieltwvdtohamflash @simsiddy @yezzyyae @hidingfromtex @toptierbunny @rooster-bradshaws @literatureluater @hellokitty4eva

[weirdsht]

Disillusioned 15 . Limelight

a/n: ngl I'm starting to hate this, it's just that my writing style doesn't seem fitting for a series. maybe next time I'll stick to one-shots lol

also I'm so so sorry for the late update. I'm so busy I haven't slept for like a week now. However, I found some free time to write huhu.

tags: injuries, blood (it's cale what did you expect), self-doubt, war

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

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_____’s time in Vegas City had been relaxing. There’s no way it wouldn’t be when everyone, mainly Cale, made sure it was. And the healer is grateful to all of them. It gave them time to think and lament over the devastating news they had received.

In turn of that kindness and space, _____ made sure to recover after they left the Caro Kingdom. It wasn’t easy, all they wanted to do was lay on the bed all day and cry. Getting energy for the slightest task, even eating, was so hard. But they still pushed themself, because war was approaching.

The battlefield is calling and its first target is their new home.

So the healer pulled themselves by their bootstraps. Even as everyone tried to assure them that it was fine to not be okay they still spared no effort to recover from their depression and be back to normal.

“Basen-nim will handle communications. The Count and Countess will be on the battlefield. Lily-nim is too young.”

Currently, Cale and _____ are having a disagreement.

“That doesn’t mean you’re the only option left. The Henituse have a lot of retainers and people we can use.”

“But can you really go all out if it isn’t one of your direct people guiding the citizens?”

Cale could only furrow his eyebrows at that retaliation. The two are currently disagreeing whether or not _____ should be in charge of leading and guiding the citizens once the Paerun Kingdom attacks. 

Silence lingered for a few seconds. Cale knows that _____ is right. Especially after that northeastern nobles meeting… Cale can only have peace of mind if the one in charge of the citizens is someone he knows. Someone he trusts

_____ reached out towards the redhead, holding his hand to show their resolve.

“Cale, I’ll be fine.”

The healer can feel Cale squeeze their hand back.

“Fine…”

Cale pauses for a moment and _____ thinks they are nearing the end of the discussion.

“But let Raon cast magic on you for disguise.”

Apparently _____ thought wrong.

No way are they allowing the young dragon to cast and maintain magic on them when they need his mana to maintain the barrier. It would also be dangerous to ask another mage for a disguise when there’s always the possibility of their enemies bringing mana disturbance tools.

“Cale you know we can’t do that.”

“Yes, that’s why you better just stay inside the castle walls or beside me and Raon.”

“I can’t do that either. I promise I’ll be safe, plus I’ll be wearing my hood and mask. There’s no way anyone would recognise me.”

Cale sighed as he used his free hand to push his hair back. 

Honestly, everyone listening in (the kids averaging 8 years old) doesn’t know why the young master is fighting this losing battle. If it had been anyone else Cale would’ve agreed in a heartbeat. 

Plus sooner or later they know he’ll give in to the healer’s wishes.

He always does.

True enough, Cale’s resolve did not even last 5 minutes before he agreed to _____’s request. It’s now official that they will be leading the citizens towards safe zones. They would also be the first line of defence in case enemies get past the barrier and start attacking the city. 

Of course, if Cale or someone else from their side gets injured then _____ will run immediately to aid them.

The other people who didn’t listen in on the conversation didn’t even have to ask how it went. Results were obvious from the way _____ was humming on their way out with Cale sighing and petting On and Hong.

“Knight-nim please check if there’s any people left on area d. If you need me I’ll be double-checking our inventory and supplies.”

It’s been a few hours after Cale and _____’s talk. Right now the healer is making sure that everything is in order while their friends are fighting the Indomitable Alliance.

As the Medicus sees Choi Han and the others attack they remember a conversation they had with Cale last night.

The two are the only ones in the room. Well, the only ones awake. The children are with them but Cale has forced them to sleep because they need the energy for tomorrow. A serving of blueberry crumble paired with jasmine tea is being enjoyed as they talk.

“I plan to create a new history. To bring new heroes forward.”

“And I assume you won’t be part of those heroes?”

_____ asked in a joking manner as they refilled both of their teacups.

“Of course not. I only want to win this war and then go rest at the underground villa peacefully.”

Cale stopped speaking to take a bite out of the dessert.

“I’m telling you this because I want to ask you if you’d like to be part of that history. This battle would be a good opportunity to show everyone that you are alive.”

“I… thank you but it would be unneeded.”

The healer’s immediate answer made Cale look at them in confusion.

“Hmm well, that’s a shame the crown prince was also thinking of giving you the Perduellio’s assets as all of them have been found guilty.”

“Is he? I didn’t know such a thing.”

Of course _____ didn’t. Only Cale and Alberu know of such a thing. They're also the only ones who know the sorry state that family is currently in.

“But still… While I do agree with you that this is a good time to do that I still don’t want to do it. My time in the spotlight was not a good experience for me. It would be enough for me to see our friends be known and bask in that light.”

_____ sipped their tea before continuing.

“There’s also the fact that my adoptive family had committed a grave sin. I don’t think it’s right for me to strive for fame when I am still legally part of that family. I will reveal myself, but it won’t be now. I hope Cale and the crown prince can understand…”

Cale nodded in understanding. He's not cruel enough to force someone to do what he wants just because he wants to hide in the shadows. There are already more than enough heroes that he can push into the spotlight.

“I understand, I’ll inform the crown prince don’t worry about it.”

_____ snapped out of their daydream to focus back on their task. 

At least tried to.

Right about when _____ is about to talk to another knight they saw Cale bleed. The healer would have left it to the priests and healers near the field if it was just Cale’s normal bleeding. But it wasn’t.

Cale is bleeding from basically every orifice of his body.

And his too far away for _____ to accurately see if he's okay.

“I’ll leave the rest to you knight-nim, I must assist our Commander.”

So the healer runs. 

They run the fastest they’ve ever had in their entire left. _____ ran so fast they got there before the healers could.

“__– healer-nim you shouldn’t be here.” 

Countess Violan made sure that the healer’s hood and mask were still intact. The fabric on their face had been removed to aid catch their breath from running. Good thing the hood was still intact so it’s unlikely that anyone has seen their face.

“Countess Violan It’ll be fine. Our priority should be the Commander right now.”

_____ has no way of knowing how at that moment, the Henituse’s respect for them grew even more.

The healer turned to Cale to see him talking to what seemed like the air. That must be why his parents are even more worried right now. It looks like the redhead is hallucinating.

Good thing _____ knows the truth. They know that he isn’t hallucinating and that he isn’t talking to thin air. Good thing they know that the words the young master was uttering are directed at a certain invisible dragon.

"It's fine now, I'll be supporting too."

Those words may seem like it was directed at the Countess and Cale but it was directed towards Raon. It's the healer's way of saying that everything will be fine so Raon better follows Cale's instructions.

_____ can’t see Raon nor can they hear his voice in their head, but they’re sure that the dragon has quieted down since Cale had stopped muttering

“Does healer-nim need help?”

The territory’s healer finally arrived. Meanwhile, _____ has not only aided Cale’s vitality of the heart, but they were also healing Choi Han while supporting Mary.

“Yes please.”

Short responses are the only thing _____ can form right now. They must focus all their strength on supporting three people. Choi Han is especially hard to heal. It’s because the Medicus had only known long-distance healing in theory and had never tried it in person.

The far away and moving Choi Han proved to be a difficult patient but _____ is certain that his recovering little by little from the wounds they are slowly absorbing. 

Drip

Drip

It’s a good thing the colour coding for this event is black. Even as blood drips down their sleeves no one would notice from far away.

But not the people near the Medicus.

Cale’s hand that had been holding onto _____’s arms tightened at the blood dripping down the ground. On the bright side, they are now certain that Choi Han’s shoulder wound is getting better.

Meanwhile, supporting Mary is easier but still proves to be a bit of a challenge. The Medicus has to support her as stealthily as possible to not give away her location. Usually whenever _____ uses her ancient power droplets of water would appear. Then they would cover those droplets with their light ability. 

But they can’t do that right now.

Both would be too flashy and would reveal the necromancer’s location.

So they did the next best thing. Which was making their power travel through the cracks of the ground and the wall.

Doing this while doing long-distance healing and supporting the Vitality of the Heart made _____ use more power and energy than they usually would.

“Leave some of the work to the healers and priests.”

The still pale, but doing much better now, Cale whispered. _____ looked at him to assess his condition using their power. 

“I’m okay Commander, and it looks like you’ll be okay soon too.”

_____ heard Cale sigh but ignored it. Seeing that his being ignored, Cale proceeded to gather himself so he could stand up again.

And that made the healer relieved.

Sure they knew his fine. _____ knows that the young master has a regeneration power. But seeing him being in commission again made it feel real. Especially after seeing them bleed that much.

That relief was short-lived.

Because tell _____ why was the first thing Cale did was use his powers again. The healer swears that one day Cale is gonna give them a heart attack.

Fortunately, the healer and the redhead have similar temperaments. Both can work well under immense stress and pressure while making it seem like they aren’t breaking that much sweat. Thanks to that _____’s composure didn’t falter and they were able to do what they needed to.

Choi Han is still a problem though. Because of the distance, the healer can’t fully heal him.

‘If only I was stronger’

_____ tries to push unnecessary thoughts away.

‘If only I was a saint’

Just as _____ was about to get pulled in by their thoughts, they felt a familiar chubby paw on their shoulder.

“Kind _____ hang in there a bit more, we’re close to winning! I’m going to go help out Choi Han now okay?”

Raon’s bright voice had served as a wake-up call for _____. Thanks to him the healer can fully focus on their task until the very end.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I didn’t know I could too.”

Cale and _____ are currently on their way to the underground dungeon. Both of them are pale and their clothes are covered with blood but they are walking as if nothing’s wrong.

“When you were at the Paerun Kingdom I started thinking of my powers in a different light, and this was the conclusion of that.”

“But doing this is harder for your body right?”

“As if, you’re one to talk.”

_____ laughed as they saw Cale scrunch his nose at the comment.

“Yes it’s harder but it’s very useful at times like this. It's all thanks to the anatomy books Ron bought for me. Having a more in-depth idea as to how our bodies work allowed me to assess them even from far away.

It’s good to know that as long as someone is within my eyesight I can heal them. Haaa, but I must say, healing Choi Han-nim while he was riding those flying bones is hard.”

Both of them stopped at the entrance of the underground dungeon.

“Since it’s hard and you overexerted yourself, does this mean you’ll leave Choi Han in the hands of other healers?”

The healer laughed again as they waved goodbye. There’s no way Cale is allowing them to enter the dungeon and they have better things to do.

“No promises Cale.”

And if one of those ‘better things to do’ is healing Choi Han, then Cale can find out for himself later.

[fascinatedscrawls]

Take a Byte

"Huh." Danny stood up straight and leaned sideways, simultaneously standing on something flat and nothing at all. "Well, that's different."

Floating up (for a given definition of the word) a little he tried reaching out to what he was going to call the 'ceiling', but maybe 'screen' was a better word?

"Different?" The question was a little muffled, the view of Tucker's frown was almost too clear though. And big. "Different how? We've done this before."

"Yeah, but usually only when I'm too busy fighting Technus to look around." Danny pointed out, doing just that. Turning away from the mind bogglingly large view of his friend's face, Danny tried to orient himself. It was difficult to do in a place he knew was 2D even though his eyes insisted there was a third dimension. Viewing Tucker's PDA from the inside was always a bit odd.

Floating upwards, or maybe just to the left? Whatever, he made his way over to the list of application icons cluttering the floor/wall and tried to grab one. He felt the pressure of whatever it was for just a moment before the app - the calculator - opened up. Jolting above it in surprise, Danny reached out and hit the hilariously huge '8' button to see if he could.

"Dude, why do you have your calculator on your main screen?" Danny teased, ignoring Tucker's sigh as zipped down to hit the '0' twice.

"Because I don't like bringing a separate one to math class, which we have nearly every school day. You know that." A finger loomed large and Danny was quick to move to the side as Tucker tapped out of the application, each interaction causing a little zap of electricity between the screen and the PDA's display.

"Fair." He made a mental note to try and avoid that if at all possible. Sure, the arc seemed to start at the floor instead of Tuck's finger, but probably not fun to be near either way. "Can you open a webpage? So far Technus has stayed mostly local, but if he ever gets the bright idea to surf the web to different locations I'd like to have some experience navigating the place."

"Sure." Tucker used the stylus this time, the plastic pen coming down like one of his parent's inventions and zipping here and there as a browser opened below Danny's feet. A webpage opened, then another as Tucker entered in an address.

"Whoa, hang on." Danny flew closer as Tucker hesitated before clicking through a pop-up banner.

"What?"

"It's just," putting one hand on the edge of the banner, Danny trailed off as he looked closer at the bottom side of it, the one hidden from the screen. "Dude, when they say cookies, I didn't know they were literal?"

"They aren't." Tucker asserted confidently. "Or, rather, they are but only in the technological version."

"Hm, are you sure?" Sniffing a little, Danny tried to identify the small package full of delicious looking baked goods hanging from the banner. Chocolate chip definitely, but maybe with a ginger snap thrown in? It smelled spicy.

"Man, no one would know how to code in actual cookies to a webpage, especially not the local news station." He brandished the stylus again only to huff exasperatedly when Danny flew up to wave him off. "Come on, you have to be pulling my leg."

"Are you talking to your PDA again?" Danny could hardly hear Sam's question, but it did a nice job of distracting Tucker.

Danny flew to the little banner as Tucker tried defending himself against Sam's teasing and flipped a few options before accepting the necessary cookies. When the final button was pressed a little bag of cookies (just the chocolate chip ones, it looked like) dropped from the banner into his hand. Opening it up, he inspected one (yep, looked like a cookie) before taking a bite.

"Uh, whatcha got there Danny?" Sam asked filling the ceiling with her suspicious look, Tucker clearly having turned it her way to 'prove' he was talking to Danny.

"A cookie!" The words were a bit hard to get out around the mouthful, but he was sure the one he held up to showcase got the message across.

"What?" Tucker appeared again in a blur. "Danny, where did you get those from?"

"The webpage." Sometimes Tucker asked the dumbest questions. "I told you they were real."

"Cookies aren't - they don't - it doesn't work like that!"

Sam took the PDA from Tucker when it was clear he was having a crisis. She left him to his mumbles and instead asked, "Are they good? Do you know if they're vegan?"

"They're alright," Danny put another one in his mouth to try and pin down why they weren't great as he read the back of the package. "A bit stale, I guess. And, uh, no idea on the vegan part - this just says they're made from 'top quality ones and zeroes'."

"There's advertising on the webpage cookies?"

They both ignored Tucker's baffled question as Sam thought his response over, a frown forming before she asked, "Wait, aren't you just ones and zeroes when you're in there?"

"Theoretically. That's what Tucker believes at least."

Her frown turned a bit disgusted.

"Does that make eating the cookies cannibalism?"

That made Danny hesitate. He held the cookie he was about to eat out in front of him and inspected it for a beat, then remembered every other time they discussed cannibalism recently and popped it in his mouth anyway.

"Can't be worse than needing to drink ecto, right?"

Sam scrunched her nose up, but clearly remembered how she didn't win that fight, especially after Frostbite brought out the 'medically necessary' parts. The PDA was snatched back before she could respond and Tucker's face was even closer than before, his eye nearly the size of Danny.

"Danny! You don't know what's in those! I didn't see which ones you allowed, what if they have trackers in there?!"

There weren't, Danny made sure of that, but seeing Tucker all worked up was kind of funny so he just shrugged.

"Would that mean they could track him outside of your PDA though?"

"That's it, I'm pulling you out." Tucker started the process and Danny responded by shoving the last of the cookies he was holding in his mouth. "Danny! Stop that! No!"

Chewing faster (and nearly choking in his haste) Danny managed to swallow them down before being hurled back into reality, the switch from 2D to 3D making him stumble right into Tucker's hands, where his friend shook him by the shoulders frantically.

"Spit them out!"

"Keep that up and I might hurl them at you, but in the least pleasant way possible." All the shaking was making him a bit sick.

"Why would you do that?" Tucker let go of him to put a hand to his hat. "Who knows what they translated to here!"

Smacking his lips a little, Danny brushed a few crumbs from his hands then reached in his pocket to retrieve the package and the final cookie he kept inside it, still chocolatey if a bit crumbly. "Looks to me like they're still cookies."

"Hm," Sam grabbed it and inspected the packaging for herself. "Do you think this makes them vegan and cruelty free or does being a cookie from a corporate webpage cancel that last part out?"

Danny hummed as Tucker snagged the package to freak out over, before offering, "I could try to grab one from a non-profit next time?"

"No," Tucker cut in. "Stop taking food from strange websites! Jazz will have my head!"

"Spoilsport."

[jrooc]

✨Weekly Tag Wednesday ✨

Hi hi! Welcome to your local Tag Game. I’m your friendly neighbourhood host, Jess, and today we’re talking fandom. Come play!

Name and A03 handle: Jess, JR_ooc

Current Location: In my kitchen, in my running gear despite having not yet gone for a run 'cause I just remembered I was doing the tag game

Favorite picrew (don't have one? you can skip this or do this one)?

I don't have a favourite but this one is new? Why do I choose questions I can't answer 😂

What's one thing you want in a picrew?

Two toned hair.

Favourite thing you’ve created (or seen created) for the fandom?

Unsurprising my sportsAU: In My Veins Like Lightning

Why is it your favourite? I just love the story and the boys I wrote and so many of their angsty and sweet moments.

Did it come easily or was it hard to create? Both? Some parts came quickly, a lot of the scenes just came to me. But there were some sticky parts I struggled hard with.

Last ao3 fic you commented on? Darkness comes before the Dawn by @ian-galagher @creepkinginc and @transmurderbug and @crossmydna's Locking Down the Locksmith -- both amazing.

Biggest WIP heartache you’ve ever experienced? Things Beyond Mistake -- I am still heartbroken over a year after reading it. What an amazing story I would give my left arm to have finished. We miss you Grayola.

Favorite trope or head cannon you like included in a fanfic? Cocky!Mickey and Tough!Ian. Love when they fall into bed right away and catch feelings after.

Least favourite? I'll read it all but don't love when Mickey after one interaction is all in. Where's the tension! Where's his tough/untrusting side? Also the slow slow slow burns make me insane... not that that stops me.

Secret or surprising kink or trope? A/B/O and really unique AU's like Maintenance or The Circus

Describe how you feel after you’ve created something new? Like I drank some warm tea. Like things have clicked into place for a moment in time.

Top hype man you have that always helps you get across the finish line: I'm lucky to have a few but @bawlbrayker always helps with a beta and a kind word or helps me choose when I'm stuck between options. Special mention to @runawaybrainsc @gallapiech and @blue-disco-lights who have been clutch and hugely supportive.

It's been a bad day, you turn to the fandom and you _____? Pour a glass of wine, play snails in the discord chat and read some angst with a happy ending or the latest fic club discussion pick.

If you were mentioned, you're tagged! Rest of the tags below the cut:

@deedala @energievie @spookygingerr @michellemisfit @celestialmickey

@mybrainismelted @tanktopgallavich @mickeysgaymom @such-a-barbarian @crestfallercanyon

@rereadanon @too-schoolforcool @roryonic @lee-ow @stocious

@transsexual-dandelions @transmickey @sgtmickeyslaughter @rayrayor @solitarycreaturesthey

@ms-moonlight-inn @whatthebodygraspsnot @suzy-queued @callivich @francesrose3

@doshiart @guinguin1984 @look-i-love-u @spoonfulstar @the-rat-wins

@thepupperino @gallavichgeek @andthatisnotfake @burninface @batty4steddie

@mmmichyyy @pookiebearmick @palepinkgoat @heymrspatel @deathclassic

@wehangout @gallawitchxx @gallavichsuperfan

Lmao I hit my tagging limit so if you see this pls know you’re tagged 😆