#i was gonna be late if i kept looking so i just put my socks and some old sneakers on and left 😭

[wisteria-whump]

whumpees who get injured but don't wanna let it interfere with their plans for the day so they just pretend it didn't happen 🫶

[joelscruff]

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

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

It's crazy how one weekend can change everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe your mother can solve this problem for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did you do?"

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

"Did you go to your lesson on Saturday?"

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

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

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

"So have you? Been making progress?"

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

"Which ones are you learning?"

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

Your stomach twists uncomfortably.

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

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

"Just.... bein' open."

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

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

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

Oh. You didn't know that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're looking at his daughter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But you did."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's fuckin' crazy about you.

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

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

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

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

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

"Need it deep inside, huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shiver, "Why didn't you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

The anxiety settles, and you believe him.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His expression falters, "Why, baby?"

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

"I like driving, it's peaceful."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

It feels so fucking good to have Joel Miller.

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

buying lingerie, what is this?? help!!

Of course, Tasha is the first to reply:

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

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

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

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

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

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

why is being sexy so awkward and expensive?

welcome to my life sister

158 DOLLARS FOR 3 SCRAPS OF MATERIAL

that's it, let it all out

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, cool."

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

"Is it that obvious?"

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckles, "What were you expectin'?"

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

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

"Did you remind her?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle, "Yeah, probably not."

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

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

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

"Tangled Up in Blue, Bob Dylan."

"I knew it was Bob Dylan."

"Good ear. You play?"

"Um, not really."

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Need your pussy touched, baby?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

Hold on...

Angel

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

You wince, "Oh. Right."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

This is too much, you want to say.

How much did you spend? you want to ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

He does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shiver at the thought.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

Are you in Dallas yet?

Let me know when you arrive.

What hotel are you staying at?

Text me back now.

Where are you?

Answer the phone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You read the message again, and then again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There's a beat of silence, then -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But it -"

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

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

"What d'you mean?"

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

"Is that my crucifix?" you ask quietly.

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

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

But you already know that it is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod quickly, expression hazy, "Yes."

"How wet?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

He nods slowly, eyes hooded as his eyes fall to your wet lips, "Okay, what else?"

"Want you to fuck me," you whisper again, as if he doesn't already know. Your hand reaches downward to carefully cup the long shape of him through his pants with trembling fingers, "Want it inside."

He reaches down, covers your hand with his and squeezes softly, "You want what inside, baby? Words."

"Your cock," you whisper, edged with a whine, "Want your cock inside me, Joel. Please. No more teasing."

He smiles softly, "Okay, baby. No more teasin'."

Watching him undress sends tingles all throughout your body, lips parting as he undoes the buttons of his shirt and tosses it to the floor, reaches for his belt buckle and slowly starts to unfurl it. He keeps his eyes on your face, watches your expression as you bite your lip and assess the way his cock juts out underneath his pants, begging to be taken out and touched, played with. The thought makes you sit up on the bed, lean toward the edge and dig a few of your fingers into his waistband, pulling him closer.

He watches as you slowly move forward to mouth his cock through his pants, lips parting and stretching around the big shape. You sigh in contentment at the feeling of it pulsing through the material against your tongue, drag your mouth up and down a few times as a whimper gurgles in your throat.

"Thought you said no more teasin'," he murmurs, and you feel his hand come to rest at the back of your head, helping you move. You moan softly around his length and you can practically hear the smile in his voice when he says, "Just need it so bad, don't you?"

You do. You can't count the number of days you've thought about it now, thought about it against your face, your thighs, your pussy. You want it everywhere - you want him everywhere. You've waited so long and you're tired of being patient, of waiting for the right time, the right moment. It's here, it's now, and you're ready.

"Please," you breathe again, pulling your mouth off his clothed cock and looking up at him with wide, almost tear-filled eyes, "Please fuck me, Mr. Miller."

His eyes go dark and the smile fades from his lips, hands coming down to unzip and unbutton quickly as you lay back on the bed and open your legs. It takes no time at all for him to be completely naked, pants and underwear thrown haphazardly off to the side while he crawls back on top of you and starts kissing your neck again, skin rough and warm. Your hands come up to grip his bare back, eyes closing as you let him silently worship you, kiss every inch of skin he can reach.

You can feel the heavy length of him on your thigh, settled there as it pulses and leaks. It's so big, so thick, and you can't help but reach down and engulf it in your small fist, fingers still unable to go all the way around. He groans into your skin, pulls back to look at you again.

"D'you want me to use a condom, babygirl?" he asks, even though he knows the answer - he wants to hear you say it, which you appreciate.

"No," you whisper, "Please don't."

He groans again at your words, reaches his hand down and easily slips two of his fingers inside of you without any resistance. You're so ready, have never felt more ready for anything in your entire life. You know you should be reveling in the moment, taking time to enjoy and appreciate - but at the same time you just want him inside of you already, want to be connected to him in the rawest of ways, complete. You can't wait anymore, you can't. He starts to add his third finger and you whine, wishing it was something else.

"Gotta open you up a little more, sweetheart," he tells you quietly, filling you with all three fingers and slowly starting to pump them in and out, "Want this to feel good for you, don't wanna hurt you."

"I want your cock, Joel," you mewl, tears welling in your eyes.

"Shhh," he kisses you gently, fucks you slow, "I know, baby, I know. Just a minute now, sweetheart. Be patient for me."

"Don't wanna be patient," you're starting to sound like a bit of a brat but you really don't care, the desperate and touch-starved part of you just aching to be filled up, held close, fucked deep. "Wanna feel you in my stomach, please."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, almost a groan as he pulls his fingers from you and drags them against his cock, taking it from you carefully and then pumping himself twice with your release, "Okay, babygirl, I hear you, I got you."

Joel eases himself downwards carefully, hovering over you like he had last weekend. He kisses you again, soft and safe, a quiet reminder that what's about to happen means more than what it seems like on paper, means more than either of you could even articulate. He peers into your eyes tenderly, reaches up to push some stray hairs out of your face.

"I'm gonna go real slow," he tells you, "You tell me the second somethin' doesn't feel right, okay? Promise me."

"I promise," you whisper, hands splaying across his back and pulling him down further so your breasts are pushing softly against the hair on his chest, impossibly close. You just wanna feel him, feel all of him.

When he says slow - he means slow.

You'd felt the tip of him last weekend, were already anticipating the burn and stretch, but this time there's not the same desperation, the same time limit or rush. Now you have all the time in the world, the clarity to take it as slowly as you need to in order to really feel everything, make it count. You feel the shape of his wide head carefully nudge the tiniest bit into your throbbing heat, and your eyes immediately go wide.

"You're okay," he reminds you softly, just like he had last time, "You're alright, angel."

Your nails dig into his back and you nod, peering up at him with a look that you hope says, I know, and I trust you, because you do. He kisses you gently and you feel his hand at your thigh, pushing you open a little wider for easier access. The garter strap strains against your legs but neither of you make any move to remove it.

He pushes inside a little further, his whole tip crowding the space at your entrance once again. You make an odd sound, something that comes from the back of your throat, and he freezes.

"Okay?" he asks, and you frantically nod. "That's the tip of me, baby. You got it, you're doin' so good."

"More," you whisper, voice breaking, "More, please."

He reaches his hand back up and locks it into place on the headboard above you, holds himself up as his knees dig into the plush cotton of the duvet. With his other hand he slowly eases more of his cock inside, just a little bit.

"Fuck," you hiss, and you can feel it now - the burn, the stretch. It's not painful by any means, but it's not comfortable either. You make a face and Joel stills, brow furrowing.

"Hurts?" he asks softly.

"N-not really," you breathe, "It's just - it's really thick."

He kisses you again, noses the side of your face and inhales deeply, "You tell me when to move," he murmurs, "You're in control from this point forward, babygirl. What you say goes."

You take a few deep breaths, eyes closed as you hold Joel to you and revel in the way he peppers tiny little kisses all over your face, your nose, your eyelids. Now it's his turn to be patient, and he's certainly much better at it than you are.

"Okay," you breathe after a moment, "Okay, you can move."

He inches in another little bit and your hips stutter, hands trembling against his back. You don't say anything, just grip him tighter and bite down on your lip - more stretch, more burn. But there's something about it, something about the odd sensation of being spread open, that has your pussy suddenly throbbing - and you whine.

"Tell me to pull out and I will," he murmurs in your ear, "We can spend some more time-"

"No," you whimper, shaking your head, "No, Joel. It feels good." You grip tighter to him and tangle your ankles with his, wanting to be even closer than you already are, "Keep going, please."

It goes like that for a while - a continuous push, inch by inch, a whine or whimper, a check-in from Joel, reassurance that you're alright, then the cycle starts again. You quickly grow accustomed to his girth, the stretch getting significantly less and less the longer he stays pressed inside of you. You're painfully aware that this probably isn't the sexiest experience for him, that he'd probably much prefer being able to go deep and stay deep and pound you senseless - and as much as that thought also appeals to you, you know there's no way your body could handle it on the first go.

"M'sorry," you mumble to him quietly during another moment of adjustment, both of you laying still while a little more than half his cock sits patiently inside of you.

"For what?" his eyes scrunch, confusion clear on his face.

"F-for taking forever to get used to it," you admit apologetically, eyes going downcast, "Especially after I begged so many times."

He shakes his head, eyes narrowing, "Do not apologize for somethin' like that, sweetheart. This is about you, not me."

"But I'm-" you take a breath, forcing yourself to be honest, to not keep your worries inside no matter what, especially in such an intimate moment like this, "I'm scared you're not enjoying yourself."

His eyes widen, "Not enjoyin' myself?" He almost laughs, light and soft, "Sweetheart, do you have any idea how fuckin' good you feel?" You shake your head and he leans down to kiss you, moans softly against your lips, "Your pussy's so tight around me, sweet girl" he whispers, "She's pulsin' around my cock, it feels fuckin' incredible."

Your thighs tighten a bit against his waist, center throbbing once again at his words. He groans, and it finally sets in that every throb you feel, every pulsation, every twitch, he can feel it too. Because he's inside of you.

"You're inside me," you whisper, and it sounds like such a dumb revelation but you don't care, lip trembling a little bit as your fingers stroke gently against his back.

"I'm inside you," he echoes, voice soft and reassuring, "M'not goin' anywhere, baby. Gonna take it as slow as you need me to."

He's so gentle, so tender, it makes you want to cry. How did you get so lucky to be having your first time with someone like this? Someone who genuinely wants you to feel good, feel taken care of? Someone who feels beyond amazing? His cock is so big, so perfect; he feeds it to you over the next few minutes, makes you whine and cry out in the dim light of the hotel room, legs trembling and hands coming up to cover your eyes as he finally bottoms out, finally eases himself completely inside of you - and stills.

Full. You're so full. It's the only word that seems to cross your mind, any and all other vocabulary going completely out the window the longer you lay there with his cock buried deep inside. He carefully pulls your hands back from your face and kisses you again and again, murmuring praise.

"You're doin' so good, angel," he whispers, "Takin' it so well, such a good girl."

It's not that filthy of a thing to say, but his words do something to you then that you can't really explain. Odd sounds escape your throat, slip past your lips pathetically as you squirm a bit beneath him. Your eyes shut tight, heart beating fast, not a thought in your brain other than the fact that there's a huge appendage lodged so deep inside of you that you can't even think, can't speak.

"I know," he's whispering, carding his fingers through your hair, "I know, baby. That cock is so big, I know, I know," he kisses your temple, holds you close, "So big inside that little pussy."

"Joel," is all you manage to whimper out, toes curling in pleasure, "Joel."

"I know," he murmurs again, and you swear he pushes his hips forward just a little bit more, the heavy shape of his balls pressing firmly against your ass, "I'm in your tummy, baby, just like you wanted."

At his words your shaky hand travels downward to feel your stomach, press your palm against the skin there, and your eyes snap open when you realize you can feel him there - near the bottom of your tummy, feel the long and thick shape of him bulging out from beneath.

"Fuck," you breathe, and his eyes meet yours, dark and hungry, "Fuck, I f-feel it."

His hand comes down and covers yours, helps you move the garter belt out of the way to shape your fingers around the long shape of him. You can feel the fat head pulsing deep within you, pushing against something you didn't even know was there, every throb sending constant gushes of release around his cock. You must be a mess down there, slick dripping down your thighs as you whine again and reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair.

"Ohmygod," the words are almost slurred, garbled, and you're realizing very quickly that talking with a cock inside of you is very difficult. Your thighs squeeze together again and Joel groans.

"God, you feel so fuckin' incredible," his expression is wrecked, plump lips parted as he inhales and exhales, "You're chokin' my cock, honey."

You can't wrap your mind around the fact that this isn't it, that simply having his cock buried deep inside you isn't the actual sex itself. Because how can just this feel so good? How can you feel so close, so full, so wonderful, all from just this?

Joel leans down and buries his face in the pillow, nudges his nose to your ear and whispers, "D'you want me to move, babygirl?" to which you immediately respond, "Yes."

At your okay he slowly eases himself out of you, the sensation unlike anything you've ever felt before as inch by inch he leaves your body until just the head sits heavy and waiting at your entrance. He looks down at you, thumbs your cheek, and murmurs, "Who's my good girl?"

You shiver, moan softly, eyes closing again, "I am," you whisper.

Just as slow, he pushes himself back inside, and you cry out and bury your face into his neck, legs shaking.

"Who is?" he asks you again, burying himself to the hilt and stroking up and down your naked body gently with one hand, "Who's my good girl? Tell me again, angel."

"I am," you repeat, a bit louder this time and drenched in pleasure as he slowly pulls out again, leaving you almost empty. "Joel," you whisper, and he pulls his face back to look at you, nipping at your bottom lip and pouting at your already fucked-out expression, "Joel, it feels so good."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, then eases himself back in, brings your hands down to your stomach again to feel the way his cock protrudes lewdly against the skin, "You're takin' it so well."

"I-I've-" you whimper, tears overflowing, "I've n-never-"

I've never felt like this before, you want to say. I've never felt so close to another human in my life. I've never wanted to live in a moment more than I want to live in this one.

Instead, he just brings a finger to your lips, eases himself out again and murmurs, "I know," like it's a mantra, "I know."

You feel him thumb your clit and you can't believe that anything could feel this good, that anything could even compare to the way it feels to have Joel everywhere like this, so deep inside and above and all around, his scent lingering in every move he makes, his hair pressing firm to the softest parts of your body. He's so warm, so safe, and more than anything all you can think about is that thought from before, the one you know now to be absolute - I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He keeps the pace slow, doesn't let go of you or pull away even once. You already know you're not gonna last, not with his thumb rubbing you like that and his cock so unrelenting and huge inside of you, filling you up in a way you never thought possible. You're pretty sure that you've only got one more orgasm left in you tonight but you don't feel worried or stressed out by that fact - you have a whole weekend for more of this, to explore and experience and enjoy.

"I'm gonna come, Joel," you breathe, and you can feel tears stinging your eyes as you say the words, "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come."

"Okay, baby, that's it," he encourages you softly, thumb unrelenting against your clit, "Lemme feel you come, angel. Let it out for me. Give it to me, sweetheart." And you do.

Coming around his cock feels fucking incredible. Your pussy tightens and throbs, releases more slick than you could even imagine, and you feel yourself start to cry, tears flowing down your face as a sob wracks from your throat as you pull him down on top of you. He fucks you through it, groaning in your ear at the way you continue to choke his cock, tight and firm.

"Fuck," he groans, "Fuck, angel, I don't think I can last."

"Then don't," you cry into his ear, eyes shut tight as your body convulses, "Don't wait, Joel. Want you to come inside me, want it so bad."

He makes an unhinged noise, his thrusts becoming a little faster, a little more erratic. Without warning you kick your legs up to wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer and letting out another loud moan when you both hear the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. He's so deep. So, so, so deep. Just like he said he'd be.

"Fuck," he mumbles in your ear, "Fuck, I'm comin', honey, I'm comin'." At his words you feel the massive length of him pulse deep inside, your walls constricting around the intrusive shape as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth opening in a silent gasp of pleasure as you feel the warm spurts of his come begin to coat your walls, filling you up.

"Joel," you breathe, and you're pretty sure your nails have broken the skin of his back but he doesn't seem to care - if anything it makes him groan even louder, makes him pull back to look at you and make direct eye contact as he empties himself. You stare at each other, eyes wide, lips parted, and he leans forward to press his forehead to yours as his jaw clenches.

The moment he's finished coming he falls on top of you with his entire body weight, something you welcome instantly. Your hands roam up and down his back, feel the crescent moon shapes lining his skin as you close your eyes and let the reality of what's just happened wash over you, settle into your very being. It's only when you shift a little underneath him that Joel finally pulls himself up to look at you. He's so beautiful, hair a mess, lips red and raw, cheeks flushed, and tears shining in his soft brown eyes. He nuzzles his nose against yours and breathes a long sigh, one of satisfaction and contentment.

"Stay inside me," you whisper. You don't know why it's the first thing you say, but somehow it feels like the most important. Because the idea of him separating from you now after what you've just shared, the idea of not being within his embrace or feeling as connected as you feel right now - it sounds like the worst thing in the world.

"Okay, angel," he murmurs, eyes sleepy, "M'not goin' anywhere."

You close your eyes, breathe him in.

I love you.

[prncessjaeger]

nothing in return ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

ღ sypnosis: where do you go when your bf sucks? here’s the answer: your best friends face!

ღ an: heard this and my fingers just began typing (but i really don’t like it now…oh well!) also cheater!reader x bsf!eren.

ღ cw: cheating ( don’t cheat irl, it’s not cute!!), smut, face riding, slight fingers, oral (f!recieving), your bf sucks!! and i think that’s it.

knocking on eren’s door, tears steady ran down your face, and when he opened it seeing your somber state, he pulled you in his arms, “what happened?”

“my boyfriend..he- he was just…so mean and so…ugh!” eren sat you down on his bed, handing you a soft tissue to wipe your eyes, “what did he do?”

“he wanted to hang out right? so i said ‘yeah okay!’ cause we haven’t did hung out in a while and literally after like 20 minutes he wanted to have sex…at first i didn’t want to, but then i gave in cause we haven’t t did it in a while…but he kept like- made it seem like and feel it was for him and his needs, like my wants or my needs didn’t matter,” eren’s fist balled up and you could feel him tensing up in anger beside you, “so i just got up and left and here we are…i feel dirty, can i- uh, can i shower here?”

“yeah, yeah, i’ll grab you some clothes…” since you’ve been here plenty of times, you went to his shower and left eren in his room, who was currently pissed.

he felt like ever since you’ve been in a relationship with that dickhead, you’ve become…distant. and while yeah he respected your relationship of course, he still missed the hangouts you two would always have, such as the late night drives to god knows where, random roadtrips out of town, hotboxing in his car…

…and overall he missed his bestfriend.

he heard the shower creaked off and your wet footsteps splat across his floor as you walked out the bathroom towards eren, standing in-front of him-only in your pink towel, “where are the clothes?” eren stared deeply at your figure: from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes and he thought you looked breathtaking in your shower glow, and you notice his eyes flickering everywhere but your face.

the more he silently admired your body, the more hot and bothered you were becoming. you looked directly into his eyes, biting your nails in nervousness, “the…the clothes eren?”

“the what?”

“clothes for tonight? i thought you were gonna give me…some…” you trailed off, seeing him stand up towering over your frame. your face heats up and you look down at your feet in embarrassment, hearing him chuckle, “they were in the bathroom?”

“oh! shit i must didn’t see them, my bad..” you backed away slow, running in the bathroom seeing the garments dead smack in your face, “how the fuck did i not see them.” scoffing in astonishment you put the clothes on: a tee and some shorts, with fuzzy socks “remember y/n, you have a boyfriend, a loving boyfriend.”

you walked back out, repeating that same mantra in your head which faded out once you stood right back in front of eren, seeing him once again unashamedly staring right at your tits. he noticed pierced with a cute pink bow nipple ring, “when did you get those?”

“uhh..2 months ago- they’re still sensitive though , hah,” eren massaged your left nipple, “uhh…why’re you..?” hearing sounds of shshes coming from eren’s mouth and a finger over his lips. he’s other hand went to your right tit, massaging it roughly and your felt pleasure fill your body, “e-eren. we shouldn’t be doing this you know…i have-

“a man? a man who doesn’t even give two shits about you.” he pulled your waist down to his laps, letting you straddle him, “but me? i would never leave you unsatisfied,” his words whispered on your lips, the both of you’ve yet to pull away, wondering who was gonna pull the first (well second) move.

he smirked seeing your appalled face now forming into a small grin, enjoying his massages, one has move your chin to look down at him, connecting your lips in a soft kiss.

“remember the times we used to…kiss like this, hmm?” he mumbled on your lips, seeing that look in your eye as you remembered the time you’d make out with him in the backseat of his car, for hours…

“but eren we…really shouldn’t be doing this,” he felt your breath on his lip and chuckled, “yeah, we really…really shouldn’t…

“f-fuck, just like that…” and now here you were, moving your hips in a rhythmic motion against erens mouth had you seeing stars. the silent vibrations from your phone going ignored by the both of you, too lost in the pleasure to notice it.

eren looked up at you through his hooded eyes, seeing one hand holding your tits up, and the other held on to the top of the bed rail tightly. your lips making an “o” shape once his tongue poked slightly inside your warm, wet pussy. muffled moans from his mouth vibrated against you and you bit your bottom lip harshly, holding back a long drastic high pitched moan.

eren sat you up some to catch a small breath, only to plop you right back down rubbing his tongue in various motions against your clit and carefully inserted two fingers inside your core simultaneously, and you felt like couldn’t hold it in anymore. “e-erennn i can’t take it, please-,”

your pleas and whimpers fell short on deaf ears, eren still not letting up off you, he was sure to make sure you felt satisfied, “c’mom baby, keep riding,” he stuck his tongue out laid flat and helped you moved your hips against it, that numbing feeling you’ve always felt starting to become more apparent.

your stomach burned in pleasure, your legs and thighs were aching, and yet eren couldn’t stop licking and slurping up your slick, your disgruntled moans were high pitched once you felt reached fhat tipping point, squirting all over his face…

…and yet eren didn’t stop.

in fact he kept making out with your sloppy cunt enjoyably, and and it seemed like you’d both be at it all night…

meanwhile your actual boyfriend, who was still salty you left him blue-balled, was steady blowing up your phone with calls and texts wondering where you, and checked your location…

only to see your red dot erens house. he wondered why you were there so late at night, so he drove over there, and once he arrived he saw two shadowed figures clearly fucking from a the huge window and saw your cute small honda accord out in the driveway.

he dialed your number again and again and again, going straight to voicemail and sighed in his hands, deciding to end the relationship over one measly text, and when eren saw the said text he chuckled, mumbling in you ear:

“now i can keep you to myself…”

ღ an: ooh lord…idk if imma ever write smut again this was STRESSFUL!!

[breeloveschris]

You’ll Never Understand pt 8

Pt 7 Pt 9

Pairings: Chris sturniolo x Y/n

Summery: Y/n always been best friends with the triplets.. until one random day in sophomore year Chris despised Y/n, and till this day Y/n still don’t know why. Nick and Matt will never understand why Y/n has never stopped being sweet and caring to Chris as if nothing ever happened.

Warnings: cussing, alcohol, drinking

Y/n woke up with a headache due to crying all night. She was up for 10 minutes just laying in bed staring at the wall with no thoughts in her head. She jumped when she heard her phone ringing. She sighed and turned over making sure she read the contact name before answering it. “Hey! I was just calling to make sure you’re awake and still down to go to the party today!” Nick said excitedly. “I’m awake and still coming” she said in a soft monotone voice.

“You okay?” Nick asked sincerely. “Huh? Oh no I’m great, I’m just tired” she said with a yawn. “Did you just wake up? It’s 6 in the afternoon” he said with a sigh. “Fuck, is it really? I didn’t even look at the time” Y/n said with a groan. “It is” Nick said with a laugh but continued, “you’re good tho, the party don’t start till 10” making Y/n sigh in relief. “I thought I wasn’t gonna make it for a second” she said with a small laugh. “Hey.. uh do you know if Chris is bringing anyone” Y/n asked quietly.

“No he’s not, but that reminds me. What the fuck was my brother doing at your house” Nick said with a confused tone. “He wanted to talk to me about some stupid shit. You know how he is” Y/n said with a laugh. “Nah facts, bros been acting mad sus lately. Like girl he came home with hickeys on his neck, he’s never done that. And he’s been 10 times more rude to you” Nick said with a sigh making Y/n’s heart drop. “That’s tuff. But honestly I’m done trying to be nice to him, he’s pushed it way too far.” She said with a sigh. “Does this mean y’all are gonna start arguing a fuck ton?” Nick asked with concern.

“No, I’m just not gonna talk to him” she said while shrugging. “Are you ready to get drunk” nick asked in an excited yell. “Hell yea, I’m not gonna get drunk this time but I’ll get tipsy because if I’m meeting the love of my life Colby Brock then I don’t need to be drunk” Y/n said with a laugh. “Girl-, what if he has a girlfriend or some shit” Nick asked with a laugh. “Then I’ll find someone else” Y/n fake sniffled. Nick just laughs before saying “well I’m gonna let you go get ready because for some reason you take hours” he said with a quiet laugh. “Okay I’ll talk to you later” she said before they both hung up.

Y/n turned on her tv putting on her early 2000’s club music playlist before getting out of bed and going to her closet to pick out an outfit. Choosing a small black dress with some boots she pulls them out and laid them on her bed walking over to her vanity doing her makeup. She took about an hour doing her makeup because she kept messing up her eyeliner and every time she’d mess up she would take off all of her makeup and start over. She decided to put on her dress before she did her hair so she wouldn’t mess up her hair.

She went with just curling her hair which took about 30 minutes. She sighed finally being ready. She looked in the mirror and she was feeling her self. She felt so pretty. “This will show Chris” she said to no body but herself with a smirk. She was looking at her makeup when she realized she never covered the now light hickeys. She sighed running a finger over them. She covered them which only took 10 minutes due to getting the coloring right. She opened her drawer and grabbed a pair of socks putting them on. She grabbed her shoes walking in to the living room putting them beside the couch where she sat down and started going through notifications.

Chris 😓

I know you’re still probably mad at me but I can’t wait to see you tonight :)

She sighed while clearing her notifications. Right after, she got a new notification.

Nickelodeon 🍰🍒

Hey! Just letting you know that we are on our way. I hope you’re ready for some beer pong

Y/n 😛🍑

Okay bet, I’m already ready and waiting. I’ll play one or two rounds of it 🤷🏼‍♀️

She smiled at her phone while she continued to text nick. She’s so excited, at first she was nervous because Chris will be there and it’s gonna be hard to ignore him but she’s gotta learn that she doesn’t need that disrespect even if it’s just an act. She gets a text from Nick saying that they have arrived. She puts on her shoes and makes her way down her apartment. She makes it out and looks for their car before seeing that it’s just in the same parking spot it’s always at.

She walks up to the car. She can see Chris in the front seat looking her up and down with a smirk on his face but she doesn’t even acknowledge that he’s there. She opens the door to the back seeing Madi. She lets out a scream before yelling “Madi!” And pulling her into a hug making everyone laugh. “Okay Y/n/n, get in the car” Matt said with a laugh. “Well hey to you mr pushy” she said with a giggle while getting in the car. She can feel Chris looking at her from the front seat but her focus is on Madi and Nick. “Y’all look so good what the fuck” Y/n said with a smirk. “Thanks, took me about 15 minutes” Nick said with a smirk. “Well ain’t you lucky” Madi said with a laugh.

“You look good Y/n” Chris said looking at her with a soft smile. She just sends him a short “thanks” before turning and talking to Madi. Matt noticed this and smirked. “Yeah, Y/n you look gorgeous” Madi said in a short yell making Y/n giggle and cover her face saying thank you in her hands over and over again. Nick and Madi laughed at her reaction. Chris just clenched his jaw while shaking his head with an annoyed smirk. They were in the car for about 30 minutes before arriving at the party.

They all walk up to the door with Nick, Madi, and Y/n in the back while Matt and Chris were in the front. “Are you excited to meet Sam and Colby?” Y/n whispered to Madi who giggled and nodded her head fast making the three of them laugh. Sam and Colby were at the door welcoming people in. They stopped and talked to them for a little bit mainly the boys talking because the girls were nervous around them.

“I don’t think we’ve met you ladies” Colby said pointing to Y/n and Madi, “no you’re right, we havent met y’all yet” Sam said agreeing. Y/n smiled and waved before saying “I’m Y/n and this is Madi” while reaching her hand out to shake Colby’s hand. Colby looked down at her hand and shook his head pulling her into a hug making her blush and let out a little laugh.

The boys start laughing as they see her blush when she pulls away. The boys minus Chris, he had his jaw clenched. She got pulled into another hug by Sam while Madi was hugging Colby. When Y/n and Sam pulled away Madi hugged sam. “We love your videos!” Y/n said with a huge smile making them smile. “So we’ve heard” Colby said with a smirk making Y/n whip her head to Nick with wide eyes making everyone laugh. “Well we’ve got more people to welcome in but please enjoy the party!” Sam said lifting his drink up making them all cheer.

Matt and Chris went in their own direction, while Nick, Madi, and Y/n went straight to the drinks grabbing some white claws. “We need to go dance” Madi yelled over the music making Nick and Y/n smirk and they all grabbed hands and walked over to the dance floor. The song ‘Just a dream’ by nelly was blasting through the speakers. They were dancing and singing to each other when Y/n felt a pair of eyes on her. She looked around looking for the set of eyes. She meets eyes with Chris who had hooded eyes and a pissed look on his face.

When he catches her meeting his gaze he brings up his drink to his mouth and takes a giant sip before turning and going to get more alcohol. The song changed right after and the song ‘Thrift Shop’ started playing making all three of them jump up and down screaming the lyrics to eachother. 5 songs later and much more dancing Y/n ran out of her white claw making her sigh. “I’m gonna go get another drink!” She yelled to them over the music in return she got 2 head nods, so she made her way over to the drinks to grab a drink when someone came up to her and tapped her shoulder.

Ah hell, now who tf is it 🤨

Taglist: @stuniolobbg @iloveneilperry @freshloveforthefit @keira324 @nicksmainbitch @junnniiieee07 @sturniolosreads @novasturniolo03 @robins-scoop @jennss23 @hearts4chris @creamoncreamoncream2 @tcvazq @bunbunbl0gs @lacysturniolo @sturniolopepsi

If you wanna be added to the taglist go here

[bitchesuntitled]

Between Us

Pairing: Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: You and Frankie are dating but keeping it a secret from your daughters.

Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI! Go on, get! Kissing, fluff, secret relationship, time skipping, smut, oral(f and m receiving), unprotected PinV(don’t do this, make smart choices), cream pie, anything I left out let me know!

A/N: HAPPY FRANKIE FRIDAY!!! This is part 2 of Paint With Me but can be read as a stand alone! Thank you @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for giving this a look over for me ❤️ Thank you @jay-zzle for giving this a read as well and the moodboard 😍

Masterlist||AO3 Link

Divider by @saradika-graphics

“Fuck, right there,” you groan into Frankie’s pillow, gripping the wrist that’s holding him above you. His other arm wrapped around your shoulder, grabbing your breast while he pulls you back against his cock again, your ass meeting his hips in a steady rhythm.

“Oh fuck,” he quietly grunts into the side of your neck, feeling your walls sucking him in, “Feel so fucking good baby.”

It’s been four months since you and Frankie had that conversation in the painting class you attended with your daughters. Four months of sneaking around so that the girls don’t catch on to their parents dating each other. In front of the girls, you and Frankie are just good friends but behind closed doors, it’s a completely different story.

“Frankie,” you whimper, trying to stifle your moans, you can feel the warmth simmering in your lower belly, so close to tipping over the edge, “I’m gonna come.”

“Yeah, baby?” Frankie whispers into your neck, teeth grazing your pulse point, causing goosebumps to erupt across your skin, open-mouthed kisses placed along your shoulders as he feels your walls beginning to flutter around him. “Wanna feel you come on my cock.”

Your grip around his wrist tightens as his hand grabs your jaw to tilt your head to the side. He captures your mouth in a kiss, your tongues massaging each other. His thrusts start to get quicker and you can tell he’s getting close too.

“Fuck,” Frankie whimpers into the crook of your neck, “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“Daddy?” You hear a wobbly voice say on the other side of the door and you both freeze. “Daddy, I had a nightmare.”

“Shit,” Frankie huffs into your neck, “Okay, be right there baby!” He hollers at the door.

You both hear the door handle turning and the door creaking open.

“Missy!” Frankie panics, “Don’t. I’ll be right there. Just give me a second.”

“Why?” Missy asks, trying to peek through the crack in the door. Frankie pulls the covers up onto his shoulders higher, blocking the door's view of you under him.

“I’m naked, Missy. That’s why!”

“Ew!” Missy shouts, running back to her room.

“Dad duty,” Frankie grumbles, pulling out and searching for his boxers, “I’ll be right back.”

—

“Nora!” You shout from the front door, trying to get your shoes on, “Come on! We’re gonna be late!”

“I need socks!” She hollers.

“There’s a clean basket of clothes in the laundry room,” you shout back.

“Mom,” Nora says, approaching the living room, “Why is there boy underwear in the laundry?” She asks, holding up a pair of Frankie’s boxers from the last time he stayed the night. Shit.

“Uhmm…” you start, trying to think of a quick excuse, “My friend had an accident and asked for my help.”

“What kind of accident?” Nora asked, scrunching up her nose.

“Just an accident, Nora,” you huff, getting your jacket on, “Now get your shoes and jacket on so we can go!”

Nora dropped the subject, thankfully, putting her shoes on and both of you were out the door. On the drive to Paint with Me you kept looking in the rearview mirror, you could see the wheels turning in your daughter's head about what had happened back at the house but still, she kept quiet.

“Hey!” Frankie greeted you with a warm smile, as you walked in the door to Miss Janice’s weekly art class. “Missy’s at our usual table,” Frankie said to Nora, pointing in Missy’s direction.

“Here!” Nora said, wrestling off her jacket, chucking it at you, and running to the table where Missy was. The girls are beaming with smiles at each other, hugging as if they hadn’t just seen each other a day ago when you all met up at the park for them to play.

“We might have a problem,” you say low enough for only Frankie to hear, hanging Nora’s jacket up on a hook and sliding your own off. He cocked his head to the side with a confused look, “Nora found your boxers in our laundry,” you whisper, hanging your jacket with hers.

“Oh,” Frankie says, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. “Uhm, how- how did that go?”

“Told her that my friend had an accident and he asked me for help.”

“Accident, huh?” Frankie grinned quietly adding, “We’ve been together for six months now, you know I’m potty trained.”

You both laugh, as you make your way to the table to sit with Nora and Missy. The girls are whispering to each other as you both sit down.

“What are you two gossiping about, huh?” Frankie asks, giving Missy’s side a small squeeze. Missy lets out a giggle.

“We think she has a boyfriend!” Nora says, pointing at you.

“What? Me?!” You ask, pointing to yourself.

“Yeah,” Nora says, “Why else would you have boy underwear in the laundry?”

“Is he cute? Is he nice? Wait, Is he rich?” Missy asks quickly. You can’t help but laugh shaking your head.

“Missy,” Frankie laughs, “Leave her alone.”

“What?” Missy asks, shrugging her shoulders, “It’s just a couple of questions.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you say, “No boyfriend for me.”

Frankie places his hand over his mouth covering that knowing smirk.

–

“I can’t wait til they get here!” Nora says, vibrating with excitement staring out the front window.

Frankie and Missy should be arriving any minute with the pizzas. Nora wanted to have a sleepover, so you figured why not have Missy over and invite Frankie to join for pizza and some movies for a little bit. He offered to pick the pizzas up on his way over.

“They’re here!” Nora shrieks, running to the front door and swinging it open causing it to smack against the wall.

“Damn it, Nora,” you grumble, watching her run to Frankie’s truck and opening the door for Missy to jump out. The girls are excitedly jabbering in the driveway while Frankie is trying to hold onto the pizzas and ushering them inside.

“Mom said we can camp in the living room tonight and fall asleep watching movies!” Nora says excitedly, “I bet you I’ll stay awake longer than you!”

“Whatever,” Missy says, “I’ll be the one up the longest!”

You and Frankie share a look both knowing that neither one will be up past 10. Frankie goes to the kitchen and sets the pizzas on the counter.

“Get the good stuff?” You hum, rubbing your hand across his lower back.

“Pepperoni and black olives?” He asks, opening the box and moving to show you, “Why yes, yes I did.”

“Gross!” The girls say in unison.

“No worries,” Frankie said, “I got a plain pepperoni and plain cheese for you two to destroy!”

“Yay!” They both yelled from the living room. You got plates down from the cupboard, getting slices of pizza set on each one.

“You guys get a movie picked out?” You ask, grabbing the plates meant for you and Frankie, while he holds the two for the girls.

“Uhmm…” Nora hesitates, looking at you while standing in the middle of the living room arranging blankets. “We got distracted by making our floor mattress.”

“Well,” Frankie says, observing the mess of blankets while setting the plates on the coffee table, “I’ll work on this and you guys pick out a movie.”

Frankie made their pallets on the floor, while the girls rummaged the shelf picking out movies to watch. Each picked out 5, playing rock paper scissors to see who got the first pick.

“Yes!” Nora shouted, raising her arms in victory, “Monsters vs. Aliens first!” 

You pop the DVD in while the girls get comfy on the makeshift beds Frankie made for them, both of them diving into their pizza slices. You plop on the other end of the couch, away from Frankie. He gives you a puzzled look as you bite into your pizza and nod your head towards the girls.

“Ahh,” he sighs out, “Gotcha.”

As the night goes on, you notice both girls yawning more frequently and Frankie inching across the couch to get closer to you. By the end of the third movie, both girls are passed out and Frankie’s arm is behind you on the back of the couch.

“Looks like they’re both asleep,” Frankie whispers in your ear. You turn to look at him with a small smile.

“Appears so,” you say, slowly standing up and quietly making your way to their pallet on the floor. You look at both girls, hearing their soft snores as you pull their blankets up to their shoulders.

Frankie stands, smiling, watching you care for his daughter. It’s been nine months of this sneaking around, meeting up when Nora’s at her dad’s and he can find a sitter, or you coming over while Missy’s asleep, making random play dates just so you have an excuse to see each other. I love yous have been shared, talks about one day all living under one roof together have happened, Frankie’s getting tired of keeping it a secret and hopes you are too. You follow him out of the living room, satisfied the girls are comfortable.

“Hey,” he whispers, grabbing your hips and pulling you against him. You can feel his half-hard member through the denim of his jeans against your thigh.

“Hey,” you whisper back, a smile gracing your lips, “Ya know, you don’t have to leave right away.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you reply, pulling away and grabbing his hand, coaxing him to your bedroom. Crossing the threshold of your room, you close the door behind you, locking it as you lightly push Frankie towards your bed, while he kicks his shoes off. The back of his legs hit against the mattress, pushing against his broad chest, he sits down, hands traveling to the nape of his neck playing with the soft strands there.

“Missed you,” you breathe against his mouth, kissing the corner of his lips, trailing your lips along the expanse of his throat. Frankie lets out a soft groan when you gently bite down, running your fingers up his scalp, giggling when you knock his hat off. His hands come to your sides, rubbing his palms against your soft skin while peeling off your shirt. He grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into a bruising kiss, licking into your mouth with fervor, arousal pooling in your panties.

“Missed you too,” he says, forehead pressed against yours. You start to push his shirt up, pulling it off the rest of the way, chucking it to the floor next to yours. Your fingers travel the expanse of his chest and he lets out a quiet hiss when you put more pressure on his nipples, fingers making their way over his soft belly to the trail of hair peeking out from his jeans. You’ve done this dance plenty of times; you remove his belt and undo his jeans like a pro, Frankie lifts his hips so you can slide his jeans and boxers off. His shaft slaps against his stomach while you sink to your knees, your head resting against his thigh, admiring his beautiful cock. You wrap your hand around him - your fingers unable to touch together - and give him an experimental tug, watching as a bead of pre-come escapes the flushed tip.

“Frankie,” you sigh, “You’re perfect.”

Frankie smirks, running his fingers through your hair. Your mouth engulfs his tip, tongue swirling around it as he lets out a moan.

“Fuck,” Frankie hisses, as you take more of his length into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, looking up at him. Those deep brown irises are blown black with lust as he watches you bob your head along his length, twisting your hand around the base of his cock in tandem. “Stop.”

Your head lifts off of him with a soft pop, he grins, motioning for you to stand, grabbing your ass, and pulling you towards him.

“Don’t wanna come down your throat baby,” he says, kissing along your collarbone, traveling to the tops of your breasts. He reaches behind you to undo your bra, letting the straps fall from your shoulders, and your bra slides onto the floor.

“Mmmm,” he hums, massaging your tits, pulling a nipple into his mouth and sucking sharply. You feel his wiry whiskers scrape along your skin and you let out a breathy whine.

“Frankie,” you whisper, your fingers running through his chocolate curls. He trails his lips down your rib cage, leaving goosebumps across your skin. He pushes your leggings and underwear down, fingers coming up to feel the arousal between your folds.

“So wet, hermosa,” Frankie purrs, grabbing your knee and bringing it against his thigh, shifting your body so you’re lying beneath him further up in bed. His cock rubbing against your folds as he sucks the skin of your neck into his mouth. “Wanna taste you, baby.”

You moan as Frankie makes his descent to your core, wide palms against your thighs pushing you open a little more for him, placing your legs on either side of his broad shoulders. He kisses and nips at your inner thighs, parting your lips to look at your glistening sex, and lets out a hum of approval before dipping down, flicking his tongue against your clit. You let out a shaky breath as he begins lapping at your folds like a man who hasn’t seen a meal in days, sucking your bundle of nerves into his mouth and swirling his tongue.

“F-fingers,” you manage to stutter out. Frankie begins tracing the tip of his finger against your entrance before slowly pushing in, massaging your inner walls, “Mm- more,” you whine and in response he hums, sinking a second digit along with the first.

“Oh god, Frankie,” you moan, raking your fingers through his hair, “Don’t you dare fucking stop.”

Frankie lets out a moan as you tug on his hair, rocking your hips against his face, feeling his knuckles massaging that sweet spot. Your legs begin to shake, skin heating, walls contracting, feeling your climax approaching.

“Frankie,” you whine, dissolving into pleasure, your orgasm overtaking you.

“So fucking good,” Frankie grins, your release covering his mustache and chin. You bring his face to yours, kissing him with a carnal desire, tasting yourself on his tongue. “Messy too,” he laughs, as you wrap your legs around him.

“Fuck me,” you whine, “Frankie, please. I need you to fu-“

He pushes into you in one quick thrust, splitting you open, and you let out a loud moan. Frankie quickly covers your mouth, fearful the girls will wake up.

“Gotta be quiet, cariño,” Frankie hums with a grin etched on his face, slowly pulling out, groaning when he looks down at his cock covered in your juices. “Fuck.”

You whimper against his hand as he pushes back into your warmth, setting a languid pace. Nails digging into the muscles of his back, hearing the squelch of your pussy as he rocks into you.

“Fuck, baby,” Frankie grunts, smacking his hands against the mattress by your head, snapping his hips into you at a desperate pace. Your nails bite into his skin harder, crescent moons to be left behind as a reminder of you. “God damn it, I fucking love you.”

“I love you too,” you pant into his mouth, feeling that tingle at the bottom of your spine starting to flourish. He devours your mouth, swallowing your moans as you reach your peak once again, white-hot electricity flowing through every limb of your body. Frankie’s hips stutter as his warm release paints your walls, your name escaping his lips as he comes.

Frankie slumps against you, face in the crook of your neck attempting to catch his breath as your fingers trail along his back, tracing small patterns into his skin. He pops his head up, looking at you, brushing stray strands of hair away from your face, kissing your forehead, cheeks, chin, and lips. He moves off of you and lays at your side with a sigh, pulling you into him.

“You should probably leave,” you pout sleepily, “I don’t,” yawn, “-don’t want the girls finding you here in the morning.”

“Just a few more minutes like this,” Frankie hums, pulling you against him tighter. 

Sleep overtakes both of you before you know it.

You wake to the sounds of Nora and Missy playing in the living room. Your eyes snap open. Shit, you fell asleep. Frankie fell asleep, here. At your house, with the girls just down the hall.

“Frankie,” you hiss shoving against him, “You fell asleep here!”

Frankie wakes startled, looking around your room trying to put the pieces together in his sleep-addled brain.

“Fuck,” he groans, rubbing his eyes as you move getting dressed, “What do we do?”

“Uhh…” you say, looking around trying to think of the best possible option. Window. The fucking window. “Window.”

“Window?” Frankie asks with a puzzled expression on his face.

“Window. Climb out, pretend you just got here to pick Missy up.”

“What am I fucking sixteen?” Frankie laughs, standing up to stretch his back.

“Frankie,” you plead, “I don’t know what else to do here. This is not how they should find out.”

“Window it is,” Frankie says, getting himself dressed while you work on quietly opening the window. Frankie approaches you from behind, wrapping his arms around you.

“Even though I wasn’t supposed to stay, I’m glad we had our own slumber party,” he whispers against your temple.

“Me too,” you grin, matching the smile on his face when you turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, planting a firm kiss against his lips. “Now shoo before we get caught.”

Frankie climbs through the window, landing softly on the ground.

“I wanna tell the girls,” Frankie says abruptly, looking up at you, hope dancing around within those Hershey orbs.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Frankie sighs out your name, “I love you and I wanna tell them. I think it’s time.”

“Okay,” you say softly, leaning your head out the window to give him one more kiss before you return to pretending he didn’t stay here the whole night, “I love you too.”

—

It’s been four weeks since Frankie snuck out of your room like a teenager trying not to get caught by your parents. You both had a long discussion about finally telling the girls about you two being together, what could change, how they’d react to the news, and every possibility you could think of. Frankie seemed confident that they would take the news just fine. Missy liked you, Nora liked him, and they were best friends. Just means they get to see each other even more, Frankie had said with a laugh.

You pulled up to the local Cherry Berry, one of the girls’ favorite places. No holds bar on toppings, Frankie told them both to go wild. You find a somewhat secluded table for this discussion, in case the worst happens. The girls come over with their massive piles of ice cream and toppings sitting next to each other like always. Frankie takes the seat beside you, digging into his ice cream as soon as he sits down. The girls begin chattering away about stuff that’s been happening at school, their teachers, wondering what the next thing they’ll paint in class is when Frankie clears his throat.

“So,” he begins, twiddling his spoon, “We wanted to talk to you guys about something.”

The girls look between the two of you, waiting for one of you to say something.

“We’ve been dating,” you explain looking at each of them, “Each other,” you add, motioning between yourself and Frankie.

“Yeah,” Frankie adds, “We just wanted to be honest with you and let you know. We don’t want to keep it a secret anymore.”

Nora and Missy look at each other and then back at you and Frankie. Nora starts to giggle and Missy soon joins her. Both of them are laughing like hyenas. You and Frankie share a look before glancing towards the girls again.

“We know,” Nora says once her giggles die down. Missy nodded her head at Nora’s words.

“What?” You and Frankie ask in unison, flabbergasted they would have caught on. You’ve both been so careful with how you are around each other.

“Yep,” Nora nods, “Remember the sleepover where Frankie came to pick Missy up and didn’t have his hat?”

You nod, processing the words your daughter is saying.

“I found his hat,” she says, holding in her laughter, “Under your bed.”

“Oh,” you say, stunned, looking towards Frankie who shrugs his shoulders.

“And I’ve seen that shirt in my dad’s room,” Missy says pointing at your chest, “And his room smells a lot better now too, kinda like vanilla, like you!” she exclaims.

You stifle your laugh, shaking your head.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Frankie mutters, “Got ourselves Starsky and Hutch over here.” 

[wnobin]

BIT BY BIT… 💭 anton lee socmed! au

pairing: college student! anton x campus crush! reader

genre: college! au, social media! au with written portions, slow burn, pining, strangers to friends to lovers.

series synopsis: in which the quiet girl in anton’s language class who seems to never sit with anyone catches his attention. anton makes it his mission to get closer to her bit by bit and break down her walls. the only issue? she’s the last to arrive and first to leave, never allowing anton the chance to approach her.

series masterlist | 06: gapildeu

it was currently 8:40am and anton was sitting on the couch in wonbin’s and seunghan’s dorm, tapping his feet impatiently while waiting for the latter to finish getting ready. seunghan was currently whining to the younger male about how he couldn’t find the other side of his sock and how “everyone would notice that his socks were mismatched”.

“for the last time seunghan, nobody is going to be staring at your feet during your presentation. can you hurry up?”

“but what if they do!”

“they won’t.”

seunghan was just about to start whining again when the door to wonbin’s room opened, revealing a half-asleep wonbin with messy bed hair. with closed eyes, he threw a pair of black socks towards seunghan, hitting him in the head directly. “get out. now.”

“thanks, wonbin! see you later!” seunghan hurriedly put on his socks and shoes before getting dragged out by anton who was as usual, anxious about being late to class. they would be having their individual presentations for japanese 101 today and anton had finally landed on a topic to present on. he would’ve presented on his musical abilities but he lacked the vocabulary for that so he settled for something easier, like his past in swimming. meanwhile, seunghan had decided to present on crayon shin-chan. anton was sure that someone would end up laughing during his presentation but seunghan couldn’t be talked out of it. “nothing’s funny about how iconic crayon shin-chan is.”

the both of them were on their way to the classroom when they spotted you in front of them. this was an unusual sight as you had always been the last to arrive to class, showing up when lesson had already started most of the time. seunghan excitedly poked anton’s side, giggling as his embarrassed friend tried to get him to shut up. “go talk to her!”

“no? and shut up, she’s gonna hear you.”

“what, are you shy? i’ll help you.”

seunghan opened his mouth and was about to call out to you but was promptly stopped by anton’s hand covering his mouth. whilst the two of them were busy fighting, you had already entered the classroom and was long gone. once the coast was clear, anton removed his hand.

“seriously, it’s been three weeks of eyeing her and you’re still not going to do anything?”

“obviously not. i’ve never even talked to her before. i just think she’s pretty… and maybe, kind of my type.”

anton was a lost cause. he was too shy for his own good and refused any help or advice his friend was offering. seunghan simply sighed and shook his head, taking his seat in the chair next to anton’s, deciding to head back to his original seating since you didn’t have plans of moving from your front row seat. seunghan proceeded to talk anton’s ear off about how the guy he sat with last lesson, chenle or whatever his name was, kept farting. anton just absentmindedly nodded at his friend’s over exaggerated complaints, busy looking in your direction. would it be weird if he approached you? the both of you had nothing in common after all, as you were both from different majors. what if you already had a boyfriend?

twice a week for three weeks, anton had been staring at you for every class and he picked up all your small habits. you preferred to write down your notes traditionally in your pink notebook instead of typing it on your laptop or writing on an ipad like other students. you never raised your hand to answer questions but you would turn around and whisper answers to sim jayoon, who sat behind you, when prof won asked her a question.

anton was quickly brought back to reality when professor won started to pick out students to present. he went in random order and thankfully, yang jungwon was chosen first and his presentation ended up being on his favourite food, curry. anton felt less worried about his topic after seeing how most of his classmates had similar presentations, being on their favourite show or hobbies.

“hm, let’s see… can y/n come up next?”

you lifted your head at the sound of your name, prof won looking at you with expectant eyes. you got up from your seat, moving to connect your laptop to the projector with shaking hands, nervous as you weren’t used to presentations, especially one in a language you barely knew.

anton watched the way you gulped nervously, your eyes darting from your laptop to the projector screen. eventually your laptop connected and displayed your cover slide which was a 0.5x picture of a cat? an orange cat wearing a bunny hat.

“good morning professor won and fellow classmates. i’ll be talking about my cat that lives with me in the dorms, gapil!”

you had racked your brain for ideas on what to present on for days, whining to eunchae and gapil when you got an idea— the greatest idea ever. what would be better to talk about than your dear cat? you didn’t have to think, you could already talk about your darling gapil for hours. your slides had more pictures of the black cat in silly positions than words but nobody seemed to mind, even prof won had a big smile on his face, laughing to himself and pointing to the screen when a picture of gapil dressed as santa popped up on the screen.

“her name is gapil which is short for garfield in korean. doesn’t she look like garfield?” you had a wide grin on your face, excited to be showing off your cat to everyone. this was the first time anyone in the class had ever seen you with an expression that wasn’t boredom and anton couldn’t help but crack a smile at the sight. you had already passed your three minute time limit but nobody cared, listening attentively to you talking about how you took in gapil on a particularly rainy night when she seemed frail and weak.

“that’s it for my presentation today, thank you for listening!” you thanked the class and bowed before disconnecting your laptop and heading back to your seat. you seemed to get the most applause out of everyone that presented, even those that were usually asleep during lessons were wide awake for your presentation.

anton might have been infatuated with your looks and your aura but now, he was definitely falling for your caring and gentle personality. he wanted to know you more, wanted to see the side of you that he saw today, warm and bubbly.

“next, let’s have anton lee!”

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[whatheoncedid]

“Hey can you smell this? Do I absolutely NEED to take a shower? You know I fucking hate showers. Water blasting you in the morning. Soap making you all fuckin itchy after… sniff it let me know.” I turned from the sink to see him standing their holding one foot up. “Pete. You’re disgusting. I can smell you from here you animal. You smell salty as fuck, how can you not know?” I said. I was fixing my hair trying to get it to cooperate. “Well that’s just like my regular smell! C’mon! Is it bad enough that I need to shower, because basically no one would even know once my shoes and clothes are on right?” He asked. He was still perched awkwardly. Since I had realized I was obsessed with him I had tried my best not to look at him. I moved in with a straight guy to avoid catching feelings. Now I was head over heels. Desperate for the feeling to pass. Now with him there in a towel, scent filling the room. I was about to scream or blast a load in my work pants. “Pete fuck OFF. You reek everyone talks shit about it, just not to your face— because well, most of you is muscle. Anyway, take a shower, don’t take a shower. It will surprise no one when you smell like a locker room full of cum socks. We ALL expect it, ok it’s a thing. Hear it from your gay friend cause no one else is telling you. Now get out! I gotta get ready for work and I don’t want your…musk, settling on me. OUT.” I said sharply. He slowly put his foot down. He stared at me. He lunged at me and pinned me into the wall. “What the FUCK is your problem?!” He growled. “Pete— I gotta go to work, and it’s early” I was in shock and fumbling for words. “Talk your shit but don’t you EVER be cold with me. ME. Dismissing me like I’m fucking nobody?! Lately you won’t even look me in my fucking eyes dude. Avoiding me. Treating me like a rando. So again what is your fucking problem?!” He was speaking in a voice I didn’t recognize. His expression was one I hadn’t seen. I was at a loss. “Peter—I’m, it’s just” my brain decided to quit. “You know what I think the problem is?” With a quick twist of his hand his towel dropped to the ground. “You fucking want me bro. You crushin on the man of the house? Tryna save face bruh?” His face slowly changed back to the handsome jokester I knew…and loved. “Jesus Christ. I hope you’re not playing a prank on me.” I whispered. He grabbed my hand and wrapped it around his hard on. “Does that feel like a prank to you?” He asked. He was warm, hard, and sticky from sweat. I felt my knees buckle. “Now… I seem to remember asking you to sniff some things? You ready? We’re gonna have some fuuuun bro!” He said lifting his arm. “Uhm—don’t call me bro. Gross.” I said snickering. “Ho-Ho-hooo really? You know you’re gonna pay for that right?” He mashed his sweaty pit in my face. My body went limp as I kept on jacking him. “Thaaaaaat’s it, let it get all over your face…and don’t worry, from now on I’ll call you bitch.”

[libraryofgage]

Combo of 17 and 21 from the prompt list! If there are any others you wanna see me write for Steddie, feel free to send an ask!

17. “You are driving me insane and I’m this close to losing my shit because of you.”

21. “I’m not even gonna lie, I’m just so fucking obsessed with you.”

She's a little short and sweet, so I hope you enjoy it! 

---

Steve had planned the evening very carefully. He'd made sure Robin kept the kids away from his place, got Nancy to help him gather supplies, and even drove to Indianapolis with Jonathan and Argyle the day before to get very specific cookies from a very specific bakery because Eddie doesn't like cake for special occasions. It is, apparently, too cliche, but that's okay because it's just one more thing Steve loves about him.

So, he feels particularly proud as he looks himself over in the downstairs bathroom mirror. The clothes are another part of the surprise, and Steve can't wait to see how Eddie reacts. He's practically preening at the thought when he hears the front door open and briefly worries one of the kids slipped away from Robin.

Because it's early, and Eddie is very rarely early. His worries are only soothed when a familiar voice playfully calls out, "Stevie, come out come out wherever you are."

Steve snorts and pokes his head out of the bathroom, making sure his body is hidden behind the door. "I'm almost done," he shouts back, unable to help himself from adding, "You're early."

"Robin threatened to skin me alive if I was late. And Nancy was standing behind her with crossed arms, so I knew she would follow through."

Ah, yeah, that would explain it.

Steve smiles a little as Eddie finally walks into the hallway with the bathroom. "Well, luckily I've already got everything ready," Steve says, his smile turning playful at the curious spark in Eddie's eyes.

"Oh? Whatcha got ready, sweetheart?"

"Close your eyes."

Eddie raises an eyebrow at him but complies. Steve waits until he's sure Eddie isn't peeking to come out of the bathroom. He hurries over and puts his hand over Eddie's eyes as well, just to be sure. "Okay, I'll lead you to the living room," he says.

Steve then takes Eddie's hand, carefully guiding him toward the living room. "You know, I'm starting to get the feeling we're gonna have some fun," Eddie says.

"Well, we'll find out," Steve says, glancing back at Eddie as he stops at the couch. "By the way, do you know what today is?"

"Uh, Wednesday?"

Steve laughs and sits Eddie down on the couch. "Yes, but no. Want to try again?"

"I'd rather see whatever you've got planned."

Well, Steve isn't exactly patient right now himself. So, he takes a few steps back, smooths out non-existent wrinkles in his clothes, and tells Eddie. "You can open your eyes now."

What follows Eddie's eyes opening is a punched, wheezing noise as he finally sees Steve. In a cheerleader uniform. Mini skirt, tube socks with Keds, and a crop top that barely reaches past his chest. A wave of pride rushes through Steve at the suddenly starved look on Eddie's face, and he slowly turns to provide a 360 view.

"What do you think?" he asks, stopping with his back to Eddie and looking over his shoulder to see the hungry look in Eddie's eyes.

"I think you're driving me insane, and I'm this close to losing my shit because of you, sweetheart," Eddie replies, holding up his thumb and forefinger. They're pressed tightly together, and Steve can't help laughing.

He turns back around and walks over to Eddie, not at all surprised when he yanks Steve into his lap. Eddie's hands grip his hips, his pinky and ring fingers pushing under the skirt's waistband while his thumbs brush under the crop top. "So, you like it?" Steve asks, grinning brightly.

Eddie doesn't even bother answering. Instead, he surges up and kisses Steve, his right hand sliding to the small of Steve's back to press him closer. Steve sighs happily into the kiss, sliding his arms around Eddie's neck and pushing one hand into his hair. It's easy for Steve to just let Eddie lead, let him decide the pace of the kiss (quick and desperate if the tongue pushing past his lips is any indication), let him have fun like Steve hoped.

It's not until Steve is breathless, his lips sore and throbbing where Eddie bit them, that Eddie pulls away. His pupils are wider than before, his eyes darker, his grin promising. "So, what's the special occasion, Stevie?" he asks, his voice low and raspy and just two steps from a growl that would send shivers up Steve's spine.

"It's our anniversary," Steve says, his brain still trying to catch up as Eddie leans in and kisses his neck.

"Our anniversary is in June," Eddie says, his lips and breath ghosting over Steve's neck and lingering where his pulse is strongest.

Steve licks his lips, tilting his head as Eddie's hands start to slide under his crop top, touching everywhere except where Steve wants them. "A different one. It's, um, the anniversary of our D&D characters. From Will's first campaign."

Eddie stops. He pulls back and looks up at Steve, something like wonder and amusement and searing love threatening to drown Steve if he stares too long. "What the fuck, Stevie?" he asks, his voice soft and nearly reverent.

"You were so excited, I thought it would be fun to celebrate. And, you know, my character did that cheer routine in the next session, and you said you wanted to see me in a cheer uniform, too. So, happy anniversary, babe."

"I'm not gonna lie right now, sweetheart. I am so fucking obsessed with you. I was before, but now it's irreversible. You're never getting rid of me."

A bright grin pulls at Steve's lips, and he presses a quick kiss to Eddie's cheek. "Funny. I was gonna say the same thing."

And then the world is spinning, Eddie is pinning him to the couch, and he can't think about anything other than kissing and tugging at Eddie's jacket to get it off.

[dmercer91]

age gap!au headcanons, jg36

18+!! and suddenly my knees are bruised

the two of you started off as a one night stand, which turned into friends with benefits, which later turned into dating.

you’re 20, and him being 29 he only wanted a hookup, and you felt the same

and then he woke up the next morning to you, naked and sound asleep, and decided he was fucking you again

and again

and again

cause you’re so good for him, you listen and you let him take out his frustrations and you’ve got the perfect amount of disobedience to where he doesn’t genuinely need to get impatient

you read each other so well, and you’re willing to try the things he likes as long as he’s willing to try new things, too.

so you give friends with benefits a try.

it’s glorious. a quick text and you’re at his house, letting him get everything out

a text from you and he’s inviting you over. he fucks you in his lap and tells you how good you are for him, empties your head and then lets you take a nap on his chest.

then he started trying to convince you to stay the night.

“you could stay, if you wanted. fuck you dumb in the morning n’ i’ll bring you home before morning skate”

it took a while before he tried a different tactic to get you to stay - going so many rounds that you couldn’t walk anymore, after a game so it was late

you started staying over once or twice a week after that, and eventually he stopped asking, just pulled you back to his chest the second you tried to get your clothes back on

before you started dating officially, he’d gotten you a key to his house and while he was on the way back from a roadie one day you decided to wait up for him, in his bed wearing his favourite lingerie.

you fell asleep. he was planning on fucking you stupid since it was a rough roadie, instead he found you in a pile of blankets and decided you looked too sweet to wake

you woke up with your head on his thigh like it was a pillow and him scrolling on his phone and playing with your hair

“sorry, j. bed is more comfy than mine”

“that’s alright, baby. looked like an angel waiting for me. get some rest”

he didn’t even realize how much he cared about you until the first time you went to one of his games

it was something about ‘the prettiest sweetheart in the crowds gonna be wearing my number tonight’

nobody knew about you, so you got tickets and came in like a regular supporter

but he had you sitting behind his first and third period net, so at warmups you caught the attention of one of his teammates.

“she’s wearing your jersey, gib. lucky guy,” regular locker room talk ensued and gibby was just trying so hard not to sock the guy.

he just kept repeating ‘murder is illegal, murder is illegal, murder is very very illegal’ in his head while smiling through it

his dirty talk that night was so possessive.

“maybe i should fuck you a little harder tonight, that way tomorrow when you’re out, you’re limping n’ everybody will know you’re already taken”

“fuckin’ look at you, dripping with me. should make you go home tonight with my mess on your thighs”

“mine. my fuckin’- my fucktoy, you’re mine”

you caught on quickly and gave into him, cause even if he wasn’t showing it, it was putting him at ease to know he wasn’t making you uncomfortable with his rambles

“yours, j. promise m’ yours, always”

he thought about that night nonstop for two weeks before he finally asked you to officially be his girlfriend

you were still kept just for him, though. neither of you told anyone, not even when you moved into his house.

he’s so protective of you once he does start to be open to everyone about you

when you’re out he’s always got his hand on the back of your neck, guiding you

if you’re in a group setting, like a bar or restaurant where you’re sitting, he’s got his hand on your thigh, always

when you’re watching a movie or something at home, he wants you on his lap. the first time you guys had company over you tried to sit next to him, and he was not having it.

he once mauled a guy on the ice for chirping him about you. granted, the player hadn’t even known you existed and wasn’t even talking about you specifically. he won’t make the same mistake twice

your sexual relationship doesn’t change at all once he makes you his partner

he’s got a size kink. he likes to manoeuvre you and throw you around and haul you over his shoulder as he pleases

he likes that when you sit in his lap and snuggle into his chest he’s practically caging you in with his arms

he likes that the outline of him shows through your stomach while he’s fucking you

he likes that you have to look up at him

he likes that you have to lean up to kiss him

he has a sir kink. he isn’t really fond of daddy

but one day you rolled your eyes at him and went ‘yes, sir’, trying to be sarcastic

he couldn’t even be upset with you cause what did you just call me??

it clicks in your brain before it does in his, and you know he won’t say anything once he does piece it together, so you just smile

later that night while he’s deep inside you he’s mumbling about how pretty you are, asking “does that feel good, sweetheart?”

without even thinking your immediate response to him is “yes, sir. feels so good, you’re so good to me”

his hip stutter, and he almost stops but instead he groans in your ear grips you so tight you think you might bruise.

“fuckin’ minx, aren’t you” is his response once he’s finally back on pace

he likes to call you sweetheart, baby (and fucktoy) he doesn’t call you by your name

he’s rough

he’ll hold you up in his lap and fuck you so hard your inner thighs get sore

he’ll have you on your back with your legs up against your chest or over his shoulders

or he’ll have you on your side, tucked into his chest while he fucks you from behind

as long as he’s able to fuck you hard and see your face, he’s in heaven.

he’ll pull your hair to move your head when you start to get hazy and roll your head back. he’ll slap your inner thigh or your pussy if you try and close your legs

he’ll use spit for lube

he likes to shove his fingers into your mouth to shut you up when he’s particularly frustrated and wanting to let off some steam

if you try to give him attitude he’ll always have that smirk he’s got in post game scrums (i need him so bad)

shower sex. all the time. he loves it.

he’ll wash your hair for you, give you such a nice scalp massage that you’re leaning on him completely to keep yourself up and you’re scratching at his bicep

while he’s helping you rinse your hair out he’ll grip your chin and lean down to leave kisses on your neck and collarbone

and as soon as it’s all out of your hair you’re up against the tile and he’s slipping into you.

he’ll hold the back of your head to keep it away from the wall

have his other arm wrapped around you to keep your front pressed completely to his

and you’ll go from gently scratching his arm to digging your nails into his skin and biting down onto his shoulder

you have to then try and stop him from washing your body cause you know he’s trying to get another round out of you

that fails spectacularly every time

aftercare is important to him, especially after your relationship starts to get more serious

he makes you feel safe, and you make him feel loved and appreciated

[jksprincess10]

Are we out of the woods 5. It was a bad idea

Summary : Your father is a dangerous man who has a lot of enemies. One day, you’re taken from your home by force to go to a safe cabin in the woods to be protected from an unknown danger by three of his men: Ironhead, Pope and Catfish. You’re not really a nature enjoyer, but in your boredom, you discover a new love for nature. You also get to know the men working for your dad and interest sparks between you and the mysterious and silent Francisco.

CW: canon-like violence, explicit smut, reader is kind of a princess at first, talks of divorce, drugs & alcohol, talks of addiction, slight age gap (reader in her mid 20s, frankie in his late 30s), jealousy, tension, frankie is a mess.

Fic masterlist

Notification blog

Their slumber is short and abruptly stopped by the strident sound of alarms. You groan and put your pillow over your head, without a care in the world that you could be in grave danger. You hear the boys moving, the heavy steps of their boots and the shouting of orders in Santi’s voice.

One of them comes into your room.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am, the movement detector, and the cameras detected some suspicious action.  How do you want us to proceed?” It’s Will’s voice. So formal. You still wished for a code name.

You can barely look at him, the light hurts your eyes. You’ve never been this hungover. “Do what you have to do.” You mumble as you hide your face in your pillows.

“Perfect. Santi and I are heading out. Frankie will stay with you in case anything goes wrong. But we might need him.” He throws a walkie-talkie on your bed. “Keep in touch.”

And just like that, he’s out. You understand now why your dad hired them. They’re pretty… effective. Minutes later, you hear a shy knock on your half-opened door. Frankie.

Memories from last night flood your head. The way he kissed you. The way he held you. The way he made you come without even touching you.

Oh god.

What have you done.

“Go away.” You groan and throw a pillow at him, which he catches mid-air. This shouldn’t be attractive, but it is.

“You should get up and get ready in case we have to leave. I’ll get you aspirin and water.”

“Why are you suddenly so fucking nice, huh?” You slowly stretch your body, trying not to be self-conscious of your the way you looked in the morning.

“Because what is going on right now is part of my job and I’m trying not to fuck this up. Go. Dress up.”

“So bossy.” You mumble as he closes the door.

You fetch a pair of fleeced-lined leggings, warm socks, and an over-sized flannel burgundy shirt. You move slowly, but you manage to get dressed without any accidents. You get out of your room with the soothing promise of getting aspirin and water. Frankie is waiting for you in the small dining room, where he has set the care items for you. You swallow everything in one go, relishing the feeling of the cold water on your tongue.

“I’m never drinking and smoking weed again.”

“They all say that.” The tips of his fingers tap lightly against the wooden table. “Look, about last night…” He starts.

“Nothing happened last night.” You cut him off, embarrassed as the memories kept flooding in. The way you begged him to let you kiss him. “I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression.”

“…Right. Maybe you should tell that to Santi too.”

You slap your hand against your forehead, annoyed at your past self for going around and kissing the men working for your dad.

“I’m gonna make breakfast.” You announce to change the subject. You get up and get working on scrambled eggs and toast, while Frankie takes care of the coffee machine, in an unsettling silence. You felt so fucking stupid about the situation, like a teenager who didn’t have any self-restraint. You would do better. Your head was still pounding, and you tried to ignore the loud sound of the old coffee machine, wincing.

“You know what helps with a migraine?”

“What, Francisco?” You groaned as you emptied the contents of the pan into two plates.

“An orgasm.”

“I swear to fucking god…” You took your plate and coffee mug, before disappearing into your bedroom and closing the door harshly behind yourself.

You would eat in silence. Maybe while reading a smutty book on your kindle. Yeah. Good idea. It would help you forget how good Frankie felt as he grinded desperately against you for sure.

You spend the morning secluded in your bedroom, keeping an eye on the walkie-talkie in hopes to have good news soon.

After reading chapter after chapter, you heard a sound coming from the communication device. “Ma’am, we’ll need help.” Will.

You grab it to respond. “Everything okay?” You couldn’t help the worry tying your voice.

“They are just more than we expected. We are observing. Waiting to make a move. Can you put Frankie on the line?”

You run out of your bedroom and give the device to Frankie without a word. He was chilling on the couch, but when he heard the urgency in your step, he got up. You blank when they start talking in codes and you sit on the couch, still warm, bringing your legs up to your chest as you tried to calm down. You really didn’t think there was a threat until now. You thought your father was exaggerating as usual.

You see blood. So much blood. You hear distinctly your mother’s scream.

Warm hands are on your knees and Frankie’s at your level, hazelnut eyes trying to get you to focus. “Listen.” When he sees your eyes on him, he lets out a breath. “When I head out, you have to hide and barricade the door with whatever you can. You don’t come out until you hear us shout the word Evergreen, okay?”

“What’s that?”

“Your codename. Congrats, soldier.”

“Frankie, I’m so scared…” You whisper. You feel like a child in front of your mother’s corpse. He cups your cheek and looks at you with all the confidence and softness he can muster.

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

You nod and watch as he gets ready. You follow him to the door, not sure what to do with your hands when he’s about to leave.

“Be careful.” You finally say, and he nods before he closes the door. You lock it, before pushing the couch in front of it. You think of a hiding place, and the best would probably be under your bed.

You went to your room and stole a blanket to lay between the mattress and the floor. You feel paralyzed by your racing thoughts. You address a prayer, even though you don’t believe in God, to please protect these nice men. You couldn’t live if people died protecting you.

Under the bed, time passes. You don’t know how many hours it had been when you hear the loud and clear call of your codename in the boys’ voices. You get out from your hiding spot and run to the door, pushing away the sofa before unlocking the door. You open it and you feel relieved to see the three of them in the flesh.

“It’s been… dealt with.” Santi says with a smile. He’s covered in dirt. In fact, all their clothes are covered in dirt and dark blood. Your eyes immediately go to Frankie, to see if he’s hurt. Besides a few scratches on his face, he seems fine.

“Put your clothes in the washer.” You finally say, swallowing the tears back. You’re trying to keep your cool as if you hadn’t been having an anxiety attack for the past hours. “Is any of you wounded?”

“No…” Frankie says he finishes taking off his boots. Still, you grab his hand, and you pull him with you while he protests.

Santiago wiggles his eyebrows at him, and he gives him the middle finger.

You push Frankie to the bathroom. “Sit.”

He does, reluctantly, interrogative eyes fixated on you, while you try to find something to clean his wounds. “Don’t lie, your face has scratches.” You mumble.

“It’s not-”

The look you shoot him quiets him. You start by wiping a warm cloth on his face, erasing the dirt and blood. Even though he looked incredibly sexy. You pushed the thought away and concentrated on cleaning him until there was no trace of dirt on his handsome face. You felt his burning, puzzled gaze on you.

“I thought you didn’t want anything to have to do with me…”

“You do get on my nerves, Frankie, but I need you alive to protect me, don’t I?” You push back the words you really want to say; that you care about him and that you feared losing him after your little fall-out this morning.

“I guess so.”

You hum in approval as you start disinfecting his superficial wounds. He grabs your wrists to stop you. His touch is burning, and you want to run away from the flame that animated him.

“It’s not necessary. Are you… are you okay?”

You sigh and you fall to your knees in front of him as you realize that no, you’re not. You see panic passing in his eyes, as he gets down from the toilet seat to hold you, like he held you yesterday when you were too drunk and wobbly.

“I’m scared and I’m turned on that you killed people for me and I’ve been having a panic attack for the past hours and I didn’t want you to die for me and I’m so done with all of this.” You say in one breath before you choke on a sob.

Confused, but supportive, Francisco strokes your back. “I’m gonna make your clothes gross.” He grumbles.

“I don’t care.” Your fingers settle in his curls on the back of his neck, trying to find comfort and grounding in physical touches. You sniffle and wipe your tears with your arm, before you look up at him, your faces close. You see the way he hesitates, the way he looks at your lips then at your eyes, and when you almost close the distance between the two of you, you hear someone clearing his throat.

“Sorry, I just… I need the bathroom.” Will stands awkwardly in the doorway, in his boxers, with clean clothes in his hand.

Frankie moves away first. “Yes, I should wash my clothes.” He also clears his throat and gets up, before helping you up. Then, he’s distant again as you both go your separate ways in the same cabin.

You were drunk and high last night, and now you were high and delirious on anxiety and fear. You had to get it together.

[evanhabit-fanboy]

As an emh fan I think Alex and Jeff are super underrated as characters and story's.

and I'm gonna talk a bit about why

[Side note; I am a fairly new emh fan, however I am aware of the allegations against Jeff. I am in no way supporting him or his actions, I am talking purely about the character and not the actor]

To start; one of the main reasons I personally got attached to these two's storyline is because of how not center focused it was. Their family and situation was mentioned maybe three or four times throughout the series, not counting the fairmount iteration. Despite being one of the main characters backstory, and currently way of living, it was often glossed over. Which, I really liked. since it was made in the style of being just uploading recordings, it wouldn't be focused on to much, Jeff wouldn't want his and Alex's situation being widely known especially because of how fragile and unattached Alex is/was to the reality.

If you're unaware of what I'm referring to, I shall explain.

in the very beginning of the series not long after we're introduced to Alex, one of the brothers [not sure which, probably Alex] brings up their parents in a conversation, and at the time it's very easily looked over. Not long after, during a livestream, Alex and Jeff are asked to step aside after a question about the two. It is said both of their parents are dead and Jeff is taking care of Alex by himself and its a very touchy subject for the both of them.

throughout the series there's a few things Alex does to show just how messed up and unattached he is. A few of the main examples being; the episode where vinny and Jeff go to the library, when Alex is asked if he wants to go with, he says "I'll have to ask my mom" and Jeff responds with "come on Alex we don't have to do this anymore" and Vinny says some times as well. Alex leaves then returns with something to play audio, he asked the device, referring to it as "mom" if he can go, he plays a recording of their mothers voice saying something along the lines of "I don't know Alex, it's getting late" and Vinny responds saying it's 10 in the morning.

from Jeff's response we can tell this is something they both used to do [or at least encouraged], but Alex being younger, seems to not be able to let go of it. It becomes very clear Alex has attachment issues, assumed to be because of his parents deaths, throughout the series.

The other main event, being during the [I think] movie night after one of the rake attacks when they attempted to go back to notmal. Alex shows up late with a sock puppet on his hand and when asked "what is thay" by Evan, he responds "sparky" [that convo made me cry the first time I watched it]. this was after Sparkys [his dog's] death, another time showing his attachment issues.

Another thing I really like about their storyline is the fact Jeff did everything he knew how to do in order to protect Alex. Alex was the last thing Jeff had besides the other emh members, so it's only natural that he's going to try protecting Alex. Jeff's story alone is really sad to me, but it's even sadder when you put the two's story's together. telling Alex to stay away from Evan may not have been very much, but it was the only thing Jeff knew to do. you have to remember, he's only a college student trying to take care of his teenage brother after losing both of their parents, and Jeff going through the loss of Jessa, he was doing his best.

Whenever things start getting bad for Alex, the rake attacks at the beginning of the series, the nightmares before his death, ect. Alex didn't tell Jeff about it because he didn't want to make him worried. Not only is that really realistic, it also makes sense with their dynamic. Alex knew Jeff was going through a lot, and he didn't want to add onto it, so even when he was getting physically attacked, he kept it from Jeff because Jeff was depressed over Jessa going missing.

Last but certainly not least, my possible favorite moment showing the two's story, is when we see [I'm pretty sure] Vinny, recording Jeff in a car, Jeff is talking about Alex and their parents death. he's saying things along the lines of "I can't be Alex's dad" and "I can't take care of him", stressing about how he, a collage student, is going to take care of Alex, a teenager. that scene absolutely broke me when I watched it, everytime I've watched it actually. I'm aware it's from another iteration, but either way, that's how Jeff would feel, and from other scenes where either the two are mentioned, or when the two are talking, it's made clear that Jeff does feel that way [example being when vinny is talking to Evan after Alex has the sock puppet and says that he's told Jeff to take Alex to the doctor but he always just says "I need to protect him"].

that was way longer then intended it to be especially because that wasn't even everything, but yeah. that's why Jeff and Alex's story is one of my fav not so talked about storylines :3

if you read of that I really appreciate and you should follow cuz I'll probz be posting more like this <3

[warmaidensrevenge]

Pairing: Papa!eddie x Plus!size reader

If you want to read my other work you can find it HERE

A/N: Okay I was sad how the last one ended so I’m going to make this a happy chapter. It's a little short but I'm very happy with it. Thanks for reading. As always feedback and re blogging is appreciated.

Warnings: language, fluff, and just plain love birds. Not proof read and no word count.

Summary: Though everything didn’t go as planned Eddie is determined to make things right. You’re the love of his life.

Chapter 7: Let's get married

You went to bed that night think that Eddie really didn’t want to marry you. You cried and cried. This was the first time you've slept alone since you and Eddie have been together. And the longest you spent away from Rosie and it just killed you. It's not like you didn't understand it. Eddie was just looking out for you. You knew that. But then why did it hurt so much? Maybe you overreacted. But you really wanted to marry him. He and Rosie meant everything to you.

"Please God. Please let him be there tomorrow." You prayed. " I just love him so much. Please let him come."

-

When you left Eddie was in shambles. He didn't mean to upset you. And he really didn't mean to keep you from Rosie. It's just she was being a little brat lately and he didn't want her to upset you. It's like whatever he did he just kept fucking up. But not anymore. He was done letting you down. Done seeing you angry and stressed. Done with seeing you cry and done being away from you. So he devised a plan. One that he could keep you from being stressed and still be there with you.

He went inside and Wayne looked at him.

" Okay old man. I have an idea."

-

You were woken up by things being moved in the living room and you heard hush voices. Not really being all that hush. You rubbed your eyes and sat up. You were actually scared. You got up and put on your slippers. You crept slowly to grab the bat Eddie had giving you when you guys first start talking. He had put a sock on it so that if for some reason an intruder came and you swung, you could pull it back if they caught it and swing again. You went for the doorknob and slowly turned it. You pulled it open and got ready to swing.

" Jesus y/n! What the hell are you doing with that?!"

" Robin! What are you doing here?"

"Well you're getting married today."

You put down the bat and leaned so you could look out the door.

" Nope. Nah uh. You can't see what's going on out there. C'mon we gotta get you ready." She said pushing you gently back into the room.

" Where's Rosie?"

" Ope. Let me get her." Robin left and came right back.

"Mummy. Kiss."

" Oh Rosie my sweet girl." You cried.

" Hey hey. No crying on your wedding day." Robin said handing Rosie to you.

" Hi sweet girl. Oh I've missed you so much." You kissing her head.

" So hair and makeup first?"

" I uhh. Yes. Is Eddie meeting us at the chapel?"

"Nope. The pastor is coming here." Robin smiled

" What?" You said snuggling Rosie.

" Eddie has planned everything. We are having the ceremony and reception here."

" Here?" You sniffled.

" Yup. You guys are gonna get married right in here and then since the caterers were cancelled Eddie is out buying pizza with Steve. Nancy is making the cake. And Wayne, Dustin, Mike and all the others are setting up the tables and chairs."

" It's too small out there."

" No it's cool. It's much bigger than the trailer and Eddie wants you to stay in bed."

" I am not staying in bed."

" Yes you are. Eddie said you have to or he will handcuff you to the bed."

You laughed. " Fine. As long as I become his wife today. We can do this however he wants. Right princess?"

Rosie buried her face in your neck. "Alright Robin. Make me pretty."

" Can't. You're already beautiful."

" Stop it."

Robin smiled.

...

You were putting Rosie's yellow bows in her hair while Robin curled yours. You kept looking in the mirror trying to keep from ruining your makeup from the happy tears. Rosie was playing with your makeup brushes when you heard Eddie singing.

" Oh sweet girl. Daddies here. Robin can I see him?"

" Uhh no. Not until the ceremony." She said putting a yellow ribbon in your hair.

You pouted but she still said no. " Shoot did he return his suit?"

" Yeah. So he's wearing his uncle's. It's kinda big."

" Well that won't do."

You got up and put Rosie on the bed and went to the closet. You pulled out some of Eddie's clothes. A pair of black jeans with no holes in them and an all black shirt with his old leather jacket.

" Yeah this is more him. Could you get him to change into this?"

" That's not wedding attire more like a funeral."

" It's our wedding and we can wear whatever we want. Besides he looks really good in black. Just tell him I said that and he will change."

Robin gave you a grin and took the clothes.

You grabbed Rosie and put her dress on. You walked her to the full body mirror and sat on the floor. You held your belly.

" Look peanut. Your sissy looks like a real princess."

Rosie went to the mirror and laughed at her reflection. You were so happy. The only person missing was Eddie. You wanted to see him so badly. But it was as if he read your mind.

" Sweetheart?"

You turned around and Eddie cracked open the door and he waved his hand through. You could see his leather jacket

" Eddie!" You said happily and got up picking up Rosie and went to the door

" Hey baby. Robin said I can't see you yet so I'm just gonna keep the door like this okay?"

" Oh Eddie."

" Yeah I know. I want to see you too. Baby, I umm I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I did. I didn't mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. And I'm sorry I kept Rosie away. I'll never do that again. And sweetheart I promise. I won't have another cigarette. I give you my word."

" Honey, please don't keep things. Whatever it is, just talk to me. And please keep your word. Because I don't want to change you, I just really need you to stick around as long as possible. I don't want to be without you."

" I promise y/n. Cross my heart."

" I love you Eddie. And I can't wait to be your wife."

Eddie leaned his forehead on the door and put his arm through the crack again. This time he felt your face and your hand over his.

" Soon baby. Soon....I love you."

"Alright Munson, get. I need to help y/n with her dress." Robin ordered

Eddie felt your lips on his palm and he smiled.

" Don't take too long. I need to see her."

He took his hand back and you frowned. You stepped away from the door and Robin came in.

" Okay. Ready? The pastor is here so we gotta be quick."

" Okay. Hear that sweet girl. Mommy has to put on her dress now." You gave Rosie one last kiss on the cheek before putting her down.

Robin helped you into your dress and zipped up the back.

" Ready?" She asked

" Absolutely."

" Okay so the pastor is coming in first then Wayne and Dustin. Steve and the others are gonna stand on that side into the hallway. Then Eddie is gonna come."

"Okay. Is Rosie gonna stay or walk with Eddie?"

"That's up to you. But you have to lay down."

" Is Eddie gonna stand?"

" Umm I'm not sure. I think he's just gonna wing it."

" Oh-okay. Umm I'll keep Rosie."

You went to her and picked her up and sat on the bed with your back against the headboard. You put her down next to you and kissed her head. Robin fixed your dress and smiled.

" Okay I'm gonna let them come in now."

" Okay... Thank you Robin."

" Bin. Bin. Bin."

You both looked at Rosie.

" Did she just say my name?"

"Yeah I think she did." You smiled

Robin laughed and held Rosie's hand. " Robin....Ro-bin."

"Bin." Rosie said bringing her arm up and down.

" Oh my god! She loves me."

" Of course you do, huh sweet girl. You love auntie Robin."

Robin stood up straight. " I like that. Auntie Robin."

" Me too." You beamed at her

" Okay. Let's get this show on the road."

You nodded in agreement. Robin opened the door and led the pastor to his place and you smiled at him. Then uncle wayne came in.

" You look beautifully kiddo." He said kissing the crown of your head.

" Thank you"

Dustin came right after him with the biggest smile.

" Hey y/n. You look great." He said giving you a hug.

" Thanks bud."

" Are you sure you want to marry Eddie and not me?"

You laughed. " Huh. If it doesn't work out I'll call you."

Dustin blushed and was pulled back by Wayne.

"Alright kid. She's spoken for." Wayne grunted making you laugh again.

Everyone else took their place and it was time for Eddie to come. Rosie had taken out her bows and you were putting them back on when he came. He just stood in the doorway watching his girls. You honestly never looked so beautiful. He stood there with a grin just watching you. When you finally looked up your eyes met. You bit your lip and blushed. He was so happy to finally see you that he did a little jog and jumped on the bed. Making everyone laugh. Rosie giggled at him and he placed kisses all over your face.

" You look incredibly sweetheart."

" Honey." You giggled.

" Alright you two. Let's get married." Robin interrupted.

Eddie plopped down on the other side of Rosie and put one arm around your shoulder pulling you closer and one arm around Rosie. Once you guys were comfy he crossed his ankles and nodded.

The pastor smiled and began reading from his folder.

" Welcome, we are gathered here today to celebrate and to witness the joining of Edward Munson and Y/N L/N in marriage. As they promise to love, trust in that love, honor one another as individuals and anticipate with joy spending the rest of their lives together. They are surrounded by you. Their friends and family. Thank you for gathering here to witness their marriage and to share in the joy of this special occasion."

Eddie held you tighter and kissed your forehead. You moved your hand to rest on his lap with the other joining his on Rosie.

" You have chosen to write your vows, and it is with these words you express your binding promises to love, honor, and cherish one another. If you are ready to make these promises to each other I invite you now to face each other and declare your intentions. When you're ready you may begin."

" That's my que." Eddie said getting up and sat in front of you.

You had picked up Rosie and put her in your lap as you crossed your legs. Dustin tried handing a piece of paper to Eddie but he shooed him away.

" I got this man." Eddie said never taking his eyes off of you.

Wayne and the others laughed.

Eddie cleared his throat. " Y/n, for a long time I never really believed in all of this. And I honestly never actually think this would happen. But then you walked into my life. Into Rosie's life and you were a god send. I can remember it as if it was yesterday, the time when you came over and Rosie hadn't pooped in like 3 days. And out of nowhere you came to her rescue. And ever since that day you have been my saving grace. It's unbelievable that today I get the chance to promise myself to you. Just some weirdo who was able to convince someone who is so beautiful and smart and the most amazing woman I have ever met to be with me. You are an amazing mother and I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I promise to you now. That whatever comes our way. I will be here for you, for Rosie, and for our little peanut. Always." He put his hand on your tummy and smiled.

He reached up to wipe your tears away. "I love you sweetheart."

You sniffled and reached in your pocket for a note card. Rosie snatched from your hand as soon as you pulled it out. You laughed. Eddie tried to get it back for you but you held his hand.

" It's okay. I don't need it."

You took a deep breath and swallowed.

" Eddie, the day we officially met I had no idea this would be the way it would turn out. I thought maybe a friendship at the most. But then, I fell so deeply in love with you. And with Rosie. As time went on, I knew that I could trust you with my heart. Everything about you makes me feel the most comfortable I have ever been. Not just by your presence but by your words and the things you do. When I'm with you and Rosie. I'm home. I promise. I will always love you and Rosie." You put your hand on his that was on your belly. " And our baby. Forever."

Eddie looked at you through his tear stricken eyes. "uhh can I kiss her now?"

Everyone laugh.

"Just a few more minutes." The pastor said.

Eddie hung his head.

"Thank you for sharing your vows with all of us. The rings you are about to place on each other's fingers are symbols of the love you expressed. They will remind you of the vows you have just spoken, and of the eternal love that you have for one another." The pastor motioned for the rings.

Wayne handed them to Eddie. He hurried to put yours but dropped it. He quickly swiped it before Rosie could get it. He grabbed your hand and put it on and you put his on. You guys both laughed.

"By the power given to me by the American Marriage Ministries and by the State of Indiana, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. You may kiss each other."

" Come here baby!" Eddie grinned from ear to ear.

He got to his knees and leaned over Rosie. " Love sweetheart"

" Love you honey. Now kiss me!"

He chuckled and gave you one long beautiful kiss. That was suddenly stopped by Rosie smacking him in the chest.

"my mummy."

Eddie looked down. " Yes princess she's your mommy. But she is also my wife."

Rosie blew raspberries causing everyone to clap and laugh. Eddie kissed you and ignored Rosie hitting him again. He finally gave up after Rosie started to whine and he sat back down

" Oh sweet girl. Don't be mean to daddy. He's just showing mommy some love."

Rosie got to her feet and kissed Eddie on the cheek. He hugged her" Thank you princesses."

Everyone came congratulating and hugging you guys. Someone started playing music out in the living room and Robin brought in a box of pizza for you, Eddie and Rosie. Eddie stole kisses when Rosie was distracted.

" Don't you want to go out there and celebrate with everyone?" You asked not looking at him.

You wish you could. You wish you could dance with Rosie and with Eddie. You felt like you guys really couldn't enjoy the party away from everyone else.

Eddie noticed how sad you were and felt bad. " No. I have everyone I need right here."

You looked at him and gave him a small smile. " Honey. Could we have just one dance?"

He was worried for a minute but honestly what harm could one dance do. " Yes Mrs Munson. Just one though."

" Yeah?"

Eddie nodded with a small smile. " But there's this one song that I thought could maybe be our song. Let me put it on. It just came out."

You watched Eddie leave and you grabbed Rosie and got off the bed. You fixed your dress and pulled the ribbon out of your hair shaking it loose so that it fell on either side of your face. Rosie's bows were long gone by now. She never really liked having her hair up. Just like Eddie. You heard the song and had no clue what it was. But the vocals were familiar.

Eddie came back and finally saw you. All of you. In the most beautiful dress. He only saw the front of it but as you slow danced with Rosie you looked like an angel.

🎵

"I gotta tell you what I'm feeling inside.

I could lie to myself, but it's true.

There's no denying when I look in your eyes.

Girl, I'm out of my head over you

And I lived so long believing all love is blind.

But everything about you is telling me this time.

It's forever, this time I know

And there's no doubt in my mind

Forever, until my life is through

Girl, I'll be loving you forever"

🎵

He went and placed a hand on your lower back and took Rosie. She was getting too big for you to carry her right now. Your hand went around his waist and the other went to Rosie's back. You guys dance together as one little unit. You rested your head on his chest listening to the lyrics.

" Kiss. This is kiss."

Eddie smiled when you got it. " it's called Forever."

" I love it."

" Me too. It's our song sweetheart."

" Our song." You smiled rocking back and forth with your new family.

" Sweetheart, I'm so happy right now. I'm on cloud nine. I found the missing piece to my puzzle, my once in a lifetime, my best friend, the love of my life. We are gonna be together forever and ever. Right?"

You kissed his chest. " Yes Eddie. Forever and ever."

You were really tired. Though you didn't do much you were exhausted. After the song you and Eddie went to lay down. He held you and Rosie until you fell asleep.

"c'mon princess. Let's let mommy sleep." Eddie whispered.

He slid his arm from under you and picked up Rosie. He looked back at you and smiled.

" Sleep well Mrs. Munson."

He closed the door and walked out into the living room. Everyone was chatting and having a good time. He went to the radio and turned it down so that it wouldn't wake you.

He put Rosie down and walked outside to join his uncle and a few people from work.

Wayne clapped his back. "You got a good one there."

Eddie grinned. " The best.... Thank you for everything. I couldn't have pulled this off without you."

" Anything you need. Anything at all. I'm here for you son. For you and the new additions to our family."

They hugged each other. Eddie pulled back to wipe his tears of joy

" I'm married man." He laughed

" Yeah son. You are."

...

@salenorona23 @browneyes528 @mrsjaderogers @b-irock

[strangerays]

more excerpts! (week of 7/10/2023)

after I wrote a surprise scene (which revealed to me a lot that I didn't know about Ray) the words just started to flow out of me. so I said "why not? I'll roll with that!" And! I've managed to add about 4k words to my book this week! I wanted to share some of that here ^-^

These scenes follow Ray after she leaves a birthday party. She's having a bit of a breakdown because she's just made a discovery, which must be kept a secret in order to protect her best friend.

By the time I started to pull myself out of the water, it felt like hours had passed. Tangles of my hair clung to my face and dripped cold water over my shoulders, down my hips. Sand like mud swallowed my feet. No stars shone. Clouds hid the moon. I couldn’t tell whether I had been crying. When I rubbed my eyes, my fingers were red with cold. A riled breeze made me shiver, pushing me up, onto the sand.             A cry of laughter erupted further down the beach. Reaching for my clothes, I eyed the group of kids through the waves of cattails.             The girls stood in water that looked like it was glowing green in the moonlight. Their hair was wet because they had been swimming too. The boys stood on top of rocks slippery with sea-spit. They were all laughing at each other. I looked away. My eyes burned from the salt and the dark.             I pulled my shirt on backwards over my wet body. When I was dressed, I rode my bike far past them, listening to frogs and the slap of an animal slinking deep underneath the water.             Mothouse was already closed, and Kath had gone home. I sat down on the bench outside and pulled my shoes off. My socks were wet. Chewing hard on my lip, I threw them in the trash can beside the bench.             I didn’t know what I was doing – I just knew I didn’t want to go home. There was so much inside me, so much that I never wanted to bring it home. Bubbling. Boiling. Threatening to spill. I needed to find a place to put it.

“Ray?”             With a start, I whirled around. I hadn’t realized I was standing so near Butternut Brook until I saw her, then I realized the marshy smell all around me, and the chirrup of crickets.             Jude was standing at the edge of her driveway, looking at me as though I had crawled out of the brook. She was wearing a pair of Stranger Things pajama pants.             “Your clothes are wet,” she said. “Have you been swimming?”             I couldn’t tell if she was really there or not. Somehow, she always managed to be there when I needed her. Without asking for her. Her hair was wavy like she’d been bundled in a blanket for hours. Neither of us were wearing shoes or socks. It was a peculiar night. “Yeah.”             She left her driveway, stepping closer to me. Behind her shoulder, all the lights inside the one-story house were shut off. I wondered whether she was home alone, or she stayed up late, like Lonan and I. Boxes were piled on the doorstep.             “You’re shivering,” she said. Her voice sounded sleepy, like she hadn’t spoken a word for hours. “How long have you been out here? I thought you were going to a party.”             My lip trembled. “I wanted to go home.”             “But you’re all the way out here.”             My eyes filled with tears. Jude pressed her lips together into a nervous smile.             “You’re crying.”             My bike fell to the ground. Instead of catching it, Jude’s hands found my waist, pulling me into a tight embrace. She was shorter than me, so she buried her head in my shoulder, and I put my chin in her hair.             “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just… want to… stop.”             I was sobbing. Jude didn’t let me go until I stopped.

I also tried writing a chapter in Jude's perspective! Still not sure if I'm gonna keep it (I haven't finished it lmao) but since I have one from Lonan's perspective, I figured it couldn't hurt to try writing another character. I suck at making their voices different but that's totally ok in this draft right now!! I just wanted to get the idea down.

Ray was so eager to keep secrets. She gathered everything close to her and refused to let go, until they rotted. And, even when the things she loved had lost their luster, she protected them. It really annoyed me in a way, that some people were so fortunate to hold their lives in their hands like that. It made me want to stick around her, to help her protect those things she was so afraid of losing. It was late, and I didn’t have anything else to do. Even if I did, I was sure I would have chosen her the same.

That's all for now! I hope you enjoyed these snippets as much as I enjoyed writing them <3

[elflock-magician]

"Tired Tired Nikei"

Summary - Nikei is extremely tired from his work. Hajime and him have a little chat before going to bed.

Note!! I DO NOT KNOW SHIT ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS IN SDRa2-- I'm just writing this for a friend so if it's mega ooc then that is why!!

-

Nikei stumbled through the doors of the apartment. He was huffing heavily like he had been running. Plus he was soaking wet. His hair was matted against his face and his clothes clung to his body due to the moisture. “Geez…Those god-damned stairs!” Nikei said in frustration. Nikei, as well as the rest of Children of Utsuro, had been staying in Emma’s apartment. Said apartment was located up two flights of stairs. “Seriously, you’re supposed to be the Ultimate Journalist, you seriously can’t handle a bit of rain and maybe a couple flights of stairs?” Nikei grumbled as he took his shoes off. His socks were uncomfortably wet as well. He continued grumbling to himself about how he should be stronger as he took off some of his wet clothes. He had been working all day doing interviews and such. “At least I got that info…Yeah. It was all worth it.” He said to himself as a pleased expression passed his face as he took out his slightly wet and tattered notepad from his pocket. “Nikei! You’re back!” Hajime said and poked his head out of the kitchen. “By some miracle.” Nikei replied as he walked over to the closet and swung the doors open. Inside said closet was where they kept the washing machine and most of everyone's clothes. Nikei had five different identical jackets. Once he had a style, he stuck with it. He took off his wet jacket, socks, and vest and stuffed them into the washing machine. “Dry off.” Hajime began “Or else you’re gonna catch a cold.” Hajime and Nikei said at the exact same time, Nikei knowing Hajime would say that exact thing, “I know, I know. Thanks Hajime.” Nikei said. Nikei turned around and was met with Hajime throwing a towel at his face, and hitting his target. “Gah!” Nikei called out, startled. Hajime chuckled and leaned against the door of the closet. 

“You left pretty early this morning. And now it’s really late. Iroha and Emma are already asleep.” Hajime stated. “Usually you don’t like late nights.” He added. Nikei finally pulled the towel off of his face. “‘Course I don’t. Who does anyways? But I’m the Ultimate Journalist! I have to be the best. So what if I–” Nikei was cut off by his own yawn, “--Have to sacrifice a little bit of my sleep schedule.” He finished his previous statement. He used the towel to rub his hair dry. 

“You shouldn’t have to sacrifice your health to do well at your job.” Hajime commented. “Oh pish posh, it’s not that big of a deal.” Nikei replied as he threw the now wet towel into the washing machine as well. “Evade your eyes, perv.” He added and gestured for Hajime to turn around so he could get rid of the rest of his wet clothes. The sound of rain hitting the roof intensified. Hajime did as asked and turned around, though still leaning against the door. “Your ‘eye-bags’ look more like eye purses.” Hajime said and put one of his hands on his hip. “So what? I can take it.” Nikei responded simply as he changed his clothes. “Tch- I’m borrowing one of your tank tops for bed.” Nikei announced as he put the tank top on. The tank top being far to big for Nikei, but he seemed to like the soft fabric. “But it’s clearly hurting you.” Hajime interjected, not letting go of the previous topic. “Sometimes you need to hurt to get far.” Nikei replied simply. “But you shouldn’t push yourself so far.” Hajime stated. “Alright alright, whatever. I’ll try and get more…conventional work hours. Will that make you take the stick out of your ass?” Nikei said, his tone sounded more light hearted than anything though. “Yeah, it’d one hundred percent make me happy.” Hajime replied, knowing well how to decipher Nikei’s dialogue.

“Alright, then I’ll do it.” He said. “M-Maybe!” He added in a shout. Nikei couldn’t let himself be vulnerable. Because, to Nikei, vulnerable meant weak, and weak meant not the best, and not the best meant inferior, and it triggered something inside him. But it was clear Nikei did desire to be close with Hajime. And Hajime seemed to understand that. He smiled softly. “Come to bed. Emma fell asleep waiting for you.” Hajime stated and gestured to the door down the hallway.

“Wait– don’t you usually go to bed way earlier than this? Something about a good sleep schedule…” Nikei asked and pulled some of the poorly-dried hair out of his face. “Usually.” Hajime said in response and took off his sunglasses. Nikei looked a little caught off guard as he realized something. “Hajime- did you stay up late to wait for me?” Nikei asked and tilted his head. Hajime chuckled again. “You’re so observant. No wonder you’re the Ultimate Journalist.” He said and pat Nikei on the head a bit. “What happened to ‘not sacrificing your wellbeing’ for progress?” Nikei questioned half-heartidly. “This is different. I know I can handle stayin’ up a little late. And I wanted to do this. Because I care for ya. It’s different from overworkin’ yourself for the sake of being productive. You really shouldn't equate productivity to worth.” Hajime explained. “Uhh…does that make sense?” He added and scratched the back of his head. Nikei opened his mouth to say something, but for a solid moment, no words left his mouth. He exhaled and smiled softly. 

“I guess it does.” Nikei replied. He yawned again. “C’mon, I’m tired, so let’s go.” He said and grabbed Hajime by the wrist and pulling him along. “What? You can’t go to sleep without me?” Hajime asked jokingly. The answer was yes. Nikei had some bad attachment issues and without knowing everyone he cared deeply for was safe, he’d have a lot of trouble sleeping. “O-Of course I can!” One again, Nikei forced down any feelings of vulnerability, “It’s just– y’know, you’ve already waited long enough. So let’s go.” He urged and continued to pull Hajime along.

After they got to the bedroom, and cleaned up a bit more, Nikei was excited to get in bed. 

In the apartment they had only two beds. Only two people could sleep in one bed at once, so they’d rotate who stayed where, sometimes. Sometimes Nikei would get stuck with Iroha, who did not smell good when she sweat even the slightest bit. And other times he’d have to sleep next to Emma, who always cuddled him like a stuffed toy. Nikei would never admit it but he didn’t exactly mind. And then there was Hajime who always moved a lot in his sleep and had nearly crushed Nikei on several different occasions. “You’re with me tonight. Emma fell asleep in her chair, so I ended up just moving her to the bed with Iroha.” Hajime explained. “Mhm. Alright.” Nikei said offhandedly before face-planting into the bed. “But I’m totally gonna punch you if you roll on me again!” He added. Hajime chuckled at that. “That’s fine. Last thing we need is to suffocate you.” Hajime stated jokingly before climbing into the bed and getting under the covers. Nikei really liked feeling pampered when he went to bed, which is why he immediately curled up in the soft blanket and burying his head into the pillow. Hajime chuckled at that. “You look like a little burrito.” Hajime commented and chuckled. Nikei stuck out his tongue and blew a raspberry at Hajime. “Yep! Nikei Burrito.” Hajime repeated in a joking tone. “N-Nikei Burrito?!” Nikei repeated. “Well then you’re Hajime-Burger, because of how you stick your head between the pillows. Like a dumbass!!” He said and blushed, and yet smiled an almost goofy grin. Hajime chuckled at that. “Wait! Shh- we gotta keep quiet. Emma and Iroha are already asleep in the next room.” Hajime said as he tried to silence his laughter, and failed. “Hajime-Burger…” He repeated again, his laughter still going. Nikei muttered something about how Hajime’s sense of humor was broken and silly before leaning against Hajime’s chest. Hajime smiled and looked down at Nikei, who looked very peaceful as he slept. Especially because he was with Hajime. Hajime shut his eyes as well. The sound of rain poured against the roof and windows of the apartment. The two of them enjoyed the company of the other as they fell into deep night sleep.

A/N - I don't know much about Sdra but my friend is currently going through the stages of grief over Nikei so I did bare minimum of research and created this to heal their wounds. Another random note but I based their apartment off of my Grandma’s old apartment.

[lopsicle]

Okay, I’m getting increasingly further behind, but I feel a lot less stressed about it, I’ll just catch up after October ig, regardless here’s my late day 6

Day 6: Cuddles

Characters: Lee Tambry, Ler Wendy (platonic or romantic)

Warnings: Tickle fic

A quick glance at Tambry and one would assume she’s not the kind of girl to enjoy physical contact, but the opposite was the case. She absolutely craved it, as long as it was behind closed doors, she hated public affection. The girl didn’t really know why, it just made her feel smaller and like people were watching her. Wendy wasn’t as crazy about touch as Tambry was, but the red head still enjoyed it, mainly on the giving end, which worked out perfectly for the two.

Wendy was one of the only people Tambry would put her phone down around and just listen to the girl and be with her in the moment, no matter how mundane the conversation was, it all mattered to her. And right now was one of those moments, Tambry’s house, with her being an only child, could be really, really quiet most of the time. It had a calming, dark feeling to it, one that could make you slip right into sleep without noticing it. Tambry’s room was quiet bare however, she never really saw the point in decorating it and kept it to a minimum by painting her room a dark shade of purple. Their were a couple black stars plastered to the roof to give it a small bit of flavour, but Tambry never paid much mind to any of that. What she was paying attention to was the girl she was laying on right now. On the top of Tambry’s squishy, soft mattress, laid Wendy and Tambry, with Wendy sitting down, her back hovering over the bed as she stabilised her position by leaning into her elbows, and also having one of her knees curled up. Meanwhile, Tambry was groggily laying her body against her, keeping her head against the girl’s chest, and her arms and legs around her, clinging onto the tough lumberjack.

Wendy was wearing her usual like green vest with a black T-shirt underneath, her jeans with a bit of stained mud on them. Her hat and boots were discarded at the side, leaving her frizzy orange hair sticking out, and her orange and yellow socks visible. Tambry had slipped into some more comfortable wear moments prior, a soft light indigo t-shirt with a white skull on her belly, and loose dark bottoms with a thin strip of purple tracing down them, and opted for fluffy white socks.

Tambry’s eyes were threatening to close as she stifled a yawn, not wanting to fall asleep and lose this moment. Her arms awkwardly shifted against Wendy’s sides as she grumbled into the sides of the redhead’s chest. Wendy, in turn, paused her ramblings and looked down at the girl to check if she was okay. She brought down her free hand and began tapping her fingers against Tambry’s neck repeatedly. ‘Hey, you’re not gonna fall in the sleep in the middle of a conversation, are you?’ She asked half heartedly with a smile, as Tambry’s sleepy face looked up to her with a bit of gratitude for her waking up. ‘N-no, and this isn’t a conversation, it’s me listening to you talking,’ Tambry corrected with a mumble, wrapping her arms even tighter around Wendy.

‘Yeah, yeah, whatever,’ Wendy smiled fondly at how attached Tambry was, and kept her hand at the girl’s neck, beginning to trace her fingers around the rim of it. It produced a very light feeling in the girl’s neck, one that was so subtle, yet so impossible to ignore. She slowly shifted her head away and curled her cheek to her shoulder, trying to protect her sensitive neck any way she could. ‘Aw, what’s wrong Tambry, are you a bit too ticklish for this?’ Wendy smiled, catching on almost instantly as she crawled her fingers to the nape of Tambry’s neck and began pinching and scratching at it. Tambry allowed the smallest of whines to pierce her lips before clasping her mouth shut, refusing to let out any laughter as her cheeks get puffy.

‘Come on, just laugh a little, please,’ Wendy offered, slowly grabbing the wrists of Tambry’s tired arms and placing them behind her back. Tambry was a bit confused until Wendy leaned back against the bed, pinning Tambry’s wrists above her head. The girl let out a small, surprised gasp before wiggling her arms against Wendy to no avail. ‘Hey, you brought this on yourself, okay?’ Wendy snickered before tilting her head upwards and slowly crawling her arms from Tambry’s underarms all the way down to her armpits. The girl shifted and bit at her lip to stop the giggles of anticipation from spilling out of her mouth. Once Wendy’s hard fingers reached the girl’s armpit, she began slowly, almost gently circling them into the skin. If this was normal tickling, Tambry would’ve easily been able to take it, but not being able to bring her arms down in defence no matter how hard she tugged just made this 10x worse. ‘Eek, Wehahahahandy, pleahahahase!’ The girl blurted out quickly, but it didn’t really come across as genuine to Wendy.

‘Please what? Please tickle you more? If you insist!’ Wendy teased loudly, loving just how red Tambry’s face got from it. Wendy got off the girl’s wrists and sat up on her knees, before quickly scurrying her ravenous nails all over Tambry’s belly, rolling up her shirt slightly in the process to reveal her waist line. ‘Nahahahaahaha, gahahahahahahahad!’ Despite the fact Wendy had gotten off her, Tambry had kept her wrists above her head and was barely even squirming away from the redhead, which Wendy gave a confused stare at. She tried to reason with it in her head but the only explanation would be…

‘Bry, do you enjoy this?’

‘Shut up!’

‘You like being tickled!’ Wendy reiterated, causing poor Tambry to curl her body as much as she could, a deep red blush painted onto her cheeks. It was only now Tambry crashed her arms back down, mainly to hide her face behind her elbows, which just caused Wendy to giggle more at her. ‘You don’t have to be embarrassed about it, you know?’ Wendy said halfheartedly, not wanting the situation to turn awkward for the both of them as she traced her fingertip into Tambry’s cold waistline.

The girl’s head immediately poked out from behind her arms, her face practically lighting up at Wendy’s statement as the cooling feeling of relief washed over her whole body. ‘I don’t?’ She said, blinking slowly, excitement clear in her voice as Wendy offered her a small smile. ‘Of course not!’ The redhead was actually quite excited at the thought of being able to tickle someone, having a lot of brothers usually meant she was the victim of tickle attacks, and she was wondering what it was like to be the one to imitate it. Her fingertips gently pinched at the sides of Tambry’s shirt as she slid it up just so that her belly and sides were exposed.

‘Is this okay?’ Wendy asked comfortingly, to which Tambry gave a small hum of acceptance and a nod towards her friend. Wendy could only offer a smile in response; she didn’t really give Tambry much of a chance to ease into the tickling, as she clawed her fingers all over Tambry’s torso, letting her thumb work against her sides while her nails scratched and scraped against her belly. ‘N-nahahahaah, Wehahahaahahndy, thaahahahaht ihahahahasn’t faihahaahahahr!’ The sudden tickling lead to Tambry squealing loudly, leaning her back against Wendy’s sides as the girl’s hands only held her friends closer to her. Wendy also learnt from this that Tambry was incredibly squirmy, her friend just couldn’t keep still. Her legs rapidly kicked and buckled around, her heels plummeting against the mattress while her arms randomly flailed and struck the bed. She let her belly wiggle around, knowing she couldn’t shake Wendy’s hand off anyway. ‘Jesus, girl, kept still!’ She joked, but Tambry really did try, she only managed to slow down for a few seconds, before descending straight back into her splashing about. Wendy took a bit of mercy on the girl, slowing her tickling to a few inches up and down her sides, sometimes grazing her nails downwards and tapping at her hips, which proved not to be as sensitive as the rest of her body. ‘E-Ehehe, bleheheheheheheh!’ Tambry carelessly let giggles deep through her lip, her squirming dissolving into flinches whenever Wendy hit an occasionally sensitive spot.

Wendy’s cold tickling soon dissolved into a warm stroking, letting the palms of her hands run up and down against Tambry’s bare side. The girl blinked and yawned, seemingly remembering just how tired she was from before the tickling. She leaned her body against Wendy’s, mumbling a ‘thank you’ into her shoulder, not wanting to fluster herself even more. The lumberjack just smiled and wrapped an arm around Tambry’s waist to hold her closer.

‘You’re welcome.’

[sadsimp]

Creepypasta OC thingy

My little stories are taking up too much space so I’ve decided to put them here :). Set with the creepypasta but a little bit different? Idk

Warnings: Angst? :’) and some gore (not a lot?? Idk) and some fluff at the end :3

Ocs name if Fall and they’re a Worker/Proxy under The Boss (not Slenderman) and they were forced to take care of two demon kids. Ik it’s weird but we’re gonna roll with it

Questions 

The moment they dragged their body through the door Helen was walking out and Miracle bomb bardes them with questions.

“Why is there blood all over you?” I sit down on the couch.

“What’s in the bag?” As I drop the bag holding necessities: my weapons, first aid, map, files, money, etc. 

“What did you do?” As I peel off my boots caked in blood and mud.

“Did you have a good day?” When I pull off my layers leaving me only in a t-shirt and my pants.

“Was there a bunny where you went?” As I stand back up and slowly wake to the hamper in the hallway. Lately he’s been obsessed with rabbits. I told him I would try to look for one though I didn’t see any, I was too sidetracked. I toss the clothes in. 

He follows me all the way to Misery’s room where I check up on her and she’s fast asleep. I close the door before walking to his room.

“Why are you quiet?” I pull the covers down and motion for him to get in bed. 

“Did you not see a bunny?” 

I cover him up and wipe the blankets down. “No I didn’t. Sorry.” I mumble dragging myself to the bathroom. 

His questions grounded me somewhat, unfortunately that’s not the only the questions do. They make me sick, make me remember. 

It hurts. 

I pull off my pants and socks and throw them in the hall and shut the door. 

It burns. 

I rip off my mask and stare for a moment, leaning on the sink and getting more agitated by the second. 

It itches. 

It was silent in the small room besides their heavy breathing. They turn around to get a towel. A shower will be good, give them some time to calm down. It itches so fucking bad.

A hot shower will do. 

As they clean themselves off they start humming, trying to keep thoughts away but they always kept coming back.

After a while they finally get out, dry off and change. They feel grateful everyone’s asleep, they can walk around freely. The stumble to the kitchen in a tank top and shorts, mask had been tossed in their bedroom.

They pull out a cup and put chocolate milk in it, Miracle would have a fit but they need something for their medicine. The swallow the pills and make a noise of disgust. 

The dogs don’t acknowledge their owner shuffling back to their room. They take a drink and set it down before getting into bed. 

It still itches. Everything itches but they don’t scratch. They heard it’s bad for the scars to do that but they might stop caring soon. 

They try to sleep but the memories keep creeping up on them. Tossing and turning didn’t help their aching body. 

Being dragged into The Punishment Room kicking and screaming. 

Spitting blood at her feet resulting in another stab to the side soon afterward along with much worse. They just wished she didn’t turn the knife while still being inside their body. Or kept the wax on for as long as she did. They squeeze their eyes and try to ignore it, it’s like they could still feel it. 

*****1st POV*****

 “Did that hurt?” The Boss asked. 

My hands were bound behind me and my legs in front of me were bound too. My sides and upper thighs throbbed, the blood pouring from them didn’t help either. Why could I feel the liquid coming out? 

“Are you ready to be done?” She asked with a sickeningly sweet tone and smile. Bitch.

All this because I stabbed some sexist pig? 

“Did you learn your lesson?” 

What about the piece of shit?

There was still some blood in my mouth from the fight so I leaned forward, gritting my teeth, and I spat at her feet.

I glared up at her leaning back against the blood stained wall and she glared right back at me. 

She turned back to her tool desk, fuck. Probably should’ve not done that. “We aren’t done are we?” The knife she picked seemed more jaggy than the last and what’s that? Is.. that.. a candle? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-

I woke up in a cold sweat, out of breath, and flung myself off the bed. The scars, particularly the same ones from my nightmare, itches. The cuts burn and the burns throb, they both itch. 

It takes me a moment to catch my breath. I rub my hands up and down my face cringing at the texture. 

I need more medicine. A knock gets me out of my mind and I instantly scramble to get my mask.

“Fall?” A small, quiet voice mumbles. Miracle. “You okay?” 

I take a deep breath shaking my head and chuckling. He either didn’t hear the house shake due to my flaying around or didn’t care. Despite having a demon in his brain, he’s very thoughtful and maybe a bit too naive. 

I get up and open the door. He steps back a little and rubs his eyes. “Yeah I’m okay.” I tell him in a raspy voice to which I cough to try and clear my dry throat. I open my arms to see what he wants and he lifts his arms up. I bend down to pick him up and carry him back to bed.

He gives me a squeeze before letting go and snuggling into his pillow. I feel like I owe him something… I tuck a hair behind his ear, “How about we go look for some rabbits tomorrow?” He sleepily corrects me, “Bunnies Mapa. Bunnies.” I pat his head and go to the hallway to start cleaning.