#it feels v much like the end of edge of seventeen where you're with a character you've bonded over for an hour and a half and realize

[paint-music-with-me]

.

[heathendolan]

Idk if you're doing concepts on Lemon Boy but if you are can we please talk about Ethan and y/n losing their v card to each other? I think it's so cute how they're each others firsts 😭

+ “what would lemon boy & y/n’s first time be like? srry if this has already been asked- i absolutely love this series!“ “what would lemon boy and y/n’s first time be like?“, etc. 

BANANA BREAD | Part 1½ of the Lemon Boy Series

A/N: hi there!!!! this has been asked so many times but i’ve never worked up the courage to ever ever ever post my smut lol because it’s absolute garbage. really. i’m a little embarrassed about posting this so feel free to ignore lol :/ it’s definitely not up to par with literally everyone else on here’s smut, it’s tragic in comparison IDK HOW Y’ALL DO THIS CONFIDENTLY!! y’all are BAD BITCHES.

summary: lemon boy and y/n’s first time together. it’s as tooth-achingly sweet as you would imagine. 

songs: banana bread is fitting, but like lowkey ILYSB (stripped) by LANY

wc: 5.2K+ || warnings: smut and this fucking image holy fuck || masterlist

SERIES | 1: Lemon Boy | 2: 888 | 3: Boys Will Be Bugs | 3½: It’s U

—

“Like, right now right now?” Ethan asked with bulged eyes and a gaping space between his lips.

You had sat across from him on your bed, the duvet still tucked neatly underneath your plush pillows, two books scattered beside each of your crouched figures. You’d been enjoying the afterglow of a sun-kissed Fourth of July, sprawled on the comforter, the two of you reading your respective novels and, every so often, dragging a lazy hand over bare legs, through uncombed hair, down tanned backs. The sun had begun to dip below the horizon beyond your window, the walls of your room tinged orange and shadowy. You fidgeted with the sundress you’d worn that afternoon, fisting the material in your damp palms to rid yourself of the moisture collecting in your hands’ crevices and reminding you that you were, in fact, very, very nervous.

Ethan’s eyes darted to the hem of your skirt, wrinkled by your anxiety, and back to your eyes, your lips, and then your eyes once more. You hardly trusted your voice to carry any of the emotions you felt. You felt blissful, the best kind of sleepy, and want. Want, want, want. You’d been gazing at the impressive, built expanse of Ethan’s shoulders, the sculpted edge of his jaw, and the thick muscles of his legs for over an hour, with your eyes only ever flickering back to your book when he felt your dogged gaze. Your heart thundered in your chest each time his shirt rode up, exposing only a hairsbreadth of the bronzed skin and taut flesh of his midriff. Your mouth practically salivated each time his fingers flicked a page before he tucked his forearm beneath his head once more, bicep in full display. He was stunning even when he didn’t know it.

It took a moment to identify what you were feeling. Why you weren’t necessarily feeling your typical rush of affection when his brows knit together. Why you wanted nothing more than to pluck the novel from his hand, toss it elsewhere, and climb atop him, right now. There was nothing exceptional about the circumstances, his appearance, or the mood–it was just you wanting, needing him.

You were no stranger to the ache Ethan Dolan created between your legs, the persistent and demanding dampness that drenched the thin cotton of your panties whenever he did something inviting. It began well before you’d ever dated, at the least acceptable of times. Your belly would swoop with that feeling whenever he would cock a brow, smack at his gum, or dip in close to murmur something with that gravelly voice of his, throaty and deep…

Perhaps it was the fresh, cool, sharp scent of his cologne, how it melted perfectly into his skin and practically wafted from him, bathing you in his fragrance whenever you were tucked under his arm. Or, perhaps that was it–his constant, firm hold on you, his solid stature, the lazy but ever-so-protective arm he slung across your shoulder. Or no, that had to be it; the way the looked careless, the way he glowered and scowled and glared, daring confrontation from anyone who bothered offering you a second glance. Was that it? Or was it the way his frozen facade thawed as soon as he looked at you, an unguarded grin gracing his pillowy, pink lips.

Or was it just Ethan?

You’d been staring at him for four years now–you could list of hundreds, thousands, millions of things that he did that sent you stumbling. Ethan Dolan turned you on and anyone with two eyes knew it.

But why now? Why were you practically drooling, pointedly unfocused on your book, pointedly focused on the way he sat before you, as average as you’d ever seen him? Your hands trembled tirelessly beneath your legs, panic rose in your throat and it was all just… untimely. But truly, it was because it was Ethan sitting before you so expectantly, waiting for a response or even a sign that you were feeling any of the emotions that you were feeling. His chocolate eyes were flitting left to right searching for any clue that he hadn’t imagined you and your unprompted blurt only a minute ago, ’I kind of want to fuck you right now.’

There were better ways to say it–better ways to word it. If you had the control to keep the words in, you would have come up with something alluring, seductive, sensual. But you had no control, none whatsoever; no, you had simply spat out the thought that was reverberating loudly inside your skull.

Because you did. You did kind of want to fuck him right now.

He seemed to appreciate your honesty with the way he practically embodied eagerness. His hand–probably subconsciously–inched towards your bent knee, desperate to reach out and just, touch. Feel. However, nervous jitters were still thrumming through your body and your head still felt heavy and your gut was still twisting. Of course you were nervous. Of course you were nervous.

Because you hadn’t done much with Ethan yet–you’d given him a handjob once a week ago, during a drive-in movie in the shadowy seclusion in the bed of his Jeep’s trunk. It was sloppy and teenagerish and even a little exciting, but it wasn’t anything else. It wasn’t romantic or life-altering or soul-searching–very far from it. Most importantly, it wasn’t vulnerable. Well, not for you at least. In the midst of yet another heated make-out session, your hand had delved beneath the comforter you two had shared and, after an encouraging grown, slipped beneath the elastic of his briefs and did what handjobs do. You hadn’t caught a glimpse of him in the dim moonlight and you kissed away his offer for any sort of reciprocation, too pathetically nervous to enjoy any more firsts that evening. He seemed to enjoy it if the way his choked off breathy sobs and moans in your ear were any indication. But where do you go from there? A blow job? Fingering? Or do you just jump to sex? Was there a rulebook? Did there have to be one?

It’d only been about a month since you two were ‘official’, and neither of you were ones to press the pedal on sex, but…

Well, when you’ve obsessed over Ethan for four years, and really loved him for two, it felt like a fucking lifetime. When you’ve watched his every movement and drooled over it all, it makes it hard to keep your hands off him when he’s right there. Because in all reality, you two have loved each other more than anyone else has in the span of your month. You were miles ahead of couples before you’d ever even began dating. And so far, besides the handjob, all you’ve done is kissed–a lot. Kissing is great, kissing is the fucking best with him–it makes you feel like you’ve drifted high above cloud nine, soft and warm and dizzy and just sweet–but your mind drifts often to what it could lead to. The thoughts had kept you up for nights on end, and though Ethan was more than appreciative of your little favor, he gave you your space and didn’t demand anything. Which was… sweet. And fantastic, and respectful, and everything you should want. Right?

But that’s not all that true. You wanted him to guide you–despite him being just as unfamiliar with all this as you–and take your hand, pull you along the primrose path, and then cuff your wrists in his grip and pin you down. At least, that’s how you’d always imagined it in your head–in your fantasies that focused on two characters much less nervous than yourselves. Fantasies where Ethan was demanding and dominating and maybe even a little degrading…

You nearly shook your head in real time in an effort to rid yourself of the thoughts. You didn’t want to be degraded tonight; you wanted this slow and soft and full of too many those kisses you loved so much. You had all the time in the world to venture into that dark part of your mind.

All the same, you wanted Ethan to pursue this whole grey area a little more. And you’d waited, and waited, and waited until finally you couldn’t wait anymore, and spat it out as stupidly as just had.

“(Y/N)?” Ethan mumbled, swiping his thumb over the bare skin of your thigh.

Finally, you dragged yourself out of your own brain and sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah. Right now, right now,” you whispered with a shaking voice.

A beat of tense silence passed. “I don’t have a condom,” he said as he realized it himself, his eyes expressive of his heartbreak. “I never thought to keep- I didn’t think you’d- I mean, I thought we’d like, talk about it before, but now that it’s right here, I’m an idiot for not bringing a fucking con-”

“I’m on birth control,” you blurted immediately. Luckily, your mom had the foresight to make sure you were on it long before you started dating Ethan.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Cause-”

“Do you not want to?” you mumbled quietly, frowning down at the skirt of your sundress sadly.

He didn’t, did he? It should have struck you as funny from the start that a seventeen-year-old boy was perfectly respectful when it came to sex. If you were turned on by him, you should only imagine he’d be frustrated tenfold. But, quite obviously, he wasn’t. Was it your figure? You were content with your body, but now that it was up for grabs, you eyed the lengths of your naked thighs and frowned harder, recoiling at the thought of his gaze climbing any higher on your legs. You grabbed the hem of your dress and tugged it down lower, shifting and wrapping your arms around yourself in an effort to conceal anything he might be evaluating.

“Do I not want-? (Y/N), are you kidding?” Ethan breathed, running a hand down his face and exhaling throatily. “I want you all the time. Like, literally all the time.”

“All the time?”

“All the time.”

“Then why are you…” you asked, finally courageous enough to look into those expressive eyes of his. His irises were detailed with concern, gentle but growing guarded by the second.

“I don’t want you to regret this… With me. It’s a big deal to some, I imagine it’s a big deal to you,” he sighed. He reached behind him and scrubbed at the nape of his neck.

“Regret it? Why would I-? Oh Ethan, don’t get all self-deprecating on me–I’m trying to fuck you,” you grumbled, rolling your eyes haughtily.

Must he choose now of all times?

With a mischievous smirk, he leaned forward to you. Placing a delicate kiss on the length of your jaw, he peppered his lips on the canvas of your cheek, across the corner of your lips, and finally kissed you languidly. To your shock, he grabbed your calves and yanked you by your legs into his lap, your body falling flat onto the mattress.

He loomed over you and pressed a hand beside your head to hold himself up. “Don’t have to tell me twice, Angel,” he cooed, his lips barely leaving yours. I just want to make sure you want this.“

He placed a hand behind your head and surveyed your expression, grinning at your innocent surprise. You breathed through an agape mouth, your pants filling the air between you and only adding to the tension. Snapping your mouth shut, you gulped and nodded, lifting a hand up to rest over his chest. His heart was drumming quickly, so very fast, and you spared yourself a second for responsibility.

“And you want this too? This is your first time too, Ethan,” you said, dragging your fingers up to graze his bony cheek.

He closed his eyes and relished in your affection, a peaceful smile overtaking his features.

“Yes,” he responded confidently. He reached up and tucked a stray lock of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips soft against your temple. “Yes.”

He dipped himself to you once more, kissing softly at your lips, so softly you had to coax him into an effort. Still, he made a noise of disapproval and let his mouth stray from yours softly yet, sliding past your cheek and your jaw to the top of your neck where your pulse sat stir crazy. He pressed his lips over it there and felt it throb rapidly, further accelerating when he flicked his tongue over the skin.

“Wanna do this right.” He mumbled against your neck so slow you’d think he was tired if he wasn’t basically thrumming with excitement. “Slow ‘n’ stuff. ’M trying to keep myself under control.”

You were set alive, already nearly gasping with anticipation. His teeth grazed your throat, hot and sharp, and he traveled further down the expanse of your neck, pausing to bite and lick and blow over every other inch. You were buzzing with want at this point; the ache between your legs began to be unbearable, hot and almost painful. You slipped a hand into his locks, pulling only enough to let him know you wanted something else, and felt him tense against you.

“That… feels good,” he spoke gravely, his voice much deeper than last you’d heard him.

“What,” you panted, “this?”

Again you tugged and watched as his face twitched with pleasure, and as you tightened your grip, you smirked at his pinched eyes and parted mouth.

“Let’s get this off you,” he urged with a strained voice, bringing his fingers up to slip off the straps on your shoulders. Still, the fabric clung to your chest and your anxiety bubbled again, your heart racing for a different reason.

“C-can I keep it on a little longer?” you pleaded quietly.

Ethan looked at you, puzzled until it dawned on him that you were so obviously insecure. “(Y/N),” he began in disbelief.

“I don’t-”

“You’re beautiful,” he assured you, pressing another chaste kiss to your lips. “You don’t have to worry about what I’ll think.”

“But I am worried about what you’ll think,” you pressed on.

Ethan frowned and shook his head, leaning back on his calves.

“Maybe we could turn the lights off?” you asked, bringing your fingernails to your teeth.

“(Y/N),” Ethan muttered again, almost a bit irritated. “You’re like, my dream girl. If you think your body is going to send me running for the hills, I’m a little offended with how shallow you consider me.”

Your stomach twinged and you squeezed your eyes shut and you nodded to him and yourself. In all your vulnerability, you’d doubted his love, but you’d be foolish to think anything else with how patient he was being, how soft his movements were.

“Okay,” you nodded still, your eyes closed. “Okay.”

“Can I take it off?” he asked again.

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Ethan hooked his thumbs in the material beneath your arms and began peeling away the dress, leaving in you in your plain cream bra. This, of course, was not all that nerve-racking; Ethan had seen you in a swimsuit dozens of dozens of times. He raised his eyes to yours to check for security and you nodded again, encouraging him to continue his steady strip.

Once you were left in your bra and panties, you instinctively wrapped your arms around your torso. “Your turn,” you breathed, both eager and desperate for his own exposure.

He smirked at you, dimples popping in his cheeks. “Would you care to do the honors?” he asked, wiggling his eyebrows cheekily.

You huffed a laugh and rolled your eyes, grateful for the comic relief, and sat up with him. You grabbed the hem of his tee and began sliding it up lazily with one hand, the other slipping its fingertips beneath the fabric and climbing the plane of his torso. His caramel eyes sunk to a deeper chocolate, heavy and fixed with wide pupils. Then, he lifted his arms and you plucked it over his head, tossing it somewhere onto the floor of your bedroom. Immediately, he leaned in close and pressed a hot kiss to your mouth, more forward than he’d been all evening. Your hands fell to the waistband of his grey sweat shorts, more than excited to rid him of the clothing that had been catching your attention all day long. The sun couldn’t even compete with how hot Ethan made you, not even on the fourth of July.

You glanced down at his black boxer briefs and bugged your eyes when you saw the peaked tent on the front of them. On the night you’d given him a handjob, it’d been pitch black and he’d been discreetly stowed beneath the blanket, so the only idea you had of his length was what did and didn’t fit in your hand, which you already assumed was impressive. But as you looked down now, you saw how thick and lengthy he really was, bulging against the thin fabric. Your eyes flickered to his and found him steadily staring back at you, hooded underneath the arch of his raised brow. You could tell he wasn’t nearly as nervous as you now; his cockiness began to settle in at your bashful awe, and he was thriving from his own confidence. So, he pushed you back by your shoulder and hovered over you again, splaying a possessive hand across your stomach and kissing down the top of your chest, lifting when the material of your bra replaced your velvety skin. “Can I take this off?” he asked huskily, his hand already making its way to clasp.

You swallowed once and nodded, far too impatient for your insecurity. He unhooked it and watched it alter back to its original shape before pulling it from you. Newly exposed and highly aroused, your nipples hardened under his gaze and as he stared down at you, he subconsciously groaned, his tongue darting out to wet his already swollen mouth. Diving down, he wrapped his lips around the bud and the moan that left you was sinful. You seemed to be feeding off each other’s cravings because the pace began to speed up. Your voice forced his body against yours and his knee came up to nudge the fire between your legs, eliciting an even louder whimper. His mouth traveled south, less attentive than before and stopped above your belly button, his hand tracing down your waist.

“I want you,” you mumbled in your haze. “Ethan, I really want you.”

You reached between your bodies and rubbed the heel of your palm over his achingly hard cock, a low hiss escaping him.

“Fuck, I want you too,” Ethan said, looking skyward as though searching for some self-control. “I think I have to ease you into this though. And it’s maybe going to hurt a little.”

Though you’d known of this rumor long before you’d ever even considered losing your virginity to Ethan, you tensed at the thought. You’d heard some really brutal stories of girls losing their virginities.

“R-right,” you nodded, swallowing thickly.

“You doing okay?” Ethan asked distractedly. He glanced up at you with eyelids half-mast and a subconscious part to his lips, his own hand coming down over yours and coaxing your movements.

Though your nerves were higher than ever, you nodded and slipped your fingers past the band of his boxer briefs to wrap around him.

“No,” Ethan pleaded with a strangled voice. He pulled at your wrist and embarrassment bloomed in your chest, his disapproval sliding down the back of your neck hot and jarring. After glancing down at your ashamed expression, Ethan’s eyes widened and he laced your fingers together. “No!” he cried again, almost panicked. “No, baby that felt good, really good. I’m just trying to control myself. I want to try and be slow for you if I can help it, and I’m just- I’m a little excited, okay?“ he laughed, blushing himself.

You nodded, relieved and relaxed back into the mattress again. Quickly, Ethan’s hand cupped over your panties, and you jolted under his touch. He forced you down by pressing a firm hand over your hip and raised an eyebrow for assurance.

”’M good,“ you promised. “Feels… shocking.”

“Shocking?” he teased with a grin.

“Like, electricity. Feels good and I don’t know how to handle it,” you mumbled with embarrassment, your cheeks aflame. He was turning you into a torch with all the heat in your core, heat in your cheeks, heat in your restless figure. Swiftly, without hesitation, he stripped you of your underwear and you had only seconds to be insecure before he was gaping down at all of you.

“Wow, I just…” he wheezed, his eyes dragging up and down the length of you. Gulping, he still tried and failed to form a coherent sentence, a mixture between rambling and speechlessness. “I… You’re so… I…”

Though you felt your confidence build and replace the nagging insecurity, you crossed your legs in an effort to hide some of you. Soon enough, he came to once more and his much stronger arms pried them apart. He sensed your stress and quickly slipped a finger between your folds. You jerked under him and arched your back, a moan echoing from you. You thanked the lord above that your family was still at the grill out you two had left because you had a feeling you were going to be quite noisy. Ethan curled his finger against your clit and again you thrashed against him, so foreign to so much pleasure and he’d hardly done anything at all.

“Tell me if I’m doing anything wrong,” he said quietly, his left forearm pinning your hips down and his eyes wandering about your body.

“And what if you’re doing everything right?” you breathed, pushing up against him.

“It sounds like you’ll let me know,” he laughed, bending down to kiss you softly. You had only a few seconds to feel his tongue against yours before he pinched over your clit and had you pulling away in a high whimper.

“Ethan,” you moaned, threading your fingers in his hair and yanking like he wanted you to.

The both of you were moaning messes. “Love hearing you say my name like this…” he breathed and shakily began to say, “I’m going to…”

He didn’t finish his sentence before he began pushing his finger in you. Your back arched high off the comforter, and your jaw dropped open silently.

“Doing okay?” he asked.

“Ethan,” was all you could reply, too focused on the feeling.

He pushed in and out of you, encouraged by your breathy pants before inserting another finger. It didn’t fit quite as nicely, but you soon adjusted and rocked up to meet his hand. He pressed his thumb to the sensitive bud above as he worked away and you whined happily, aroused and expectant.

“(Y/N),” he rasped, “watching you and everything is really- is it okay if I-?”

“Yes,” you complied, nodded furiously, “whatever you’re about to say, yes.”

Ethan removed his hand and you frowned at the emptiness that followed, peeking open your eyes to find him shucking off his boxers. His cock sprung from him, thick and long and flushed red. You eyed it incredulously, and your mind drifted again to the pain that accompanied first times.

“I’ll go real slow,” he promised quietly, falling to kiss the crown of your head. “You let me know if you want to stop, or if you want me to slow down, okay?”

You nodded and pulled him down to kiss his lips urgently. After a moment, he pulled off you and reached down to position himself and press his tip against your entrance.

Immediately, you could tell he would be much different than his fingers, because as he pushed into you, millimeter by millimeter, a sharp and tight pain pinched you down low, in your abdomen, all over. You clenched your jaw, grinding your teeth and squeezing your eyes shut to distract yourself of the pain, but it was overbearing. Tears pinpricked the corners of your eyes and you winced, willing yourself to move your mind away for him, for his enjoyment. However, subconsciously you were wiggling away, scooting up the bed.

“Hey,” Ethan cooed, rubbing a warm hand down your cold shoulder. “Hey, Angel look at me.”

You opened your eyes and stared at the blurry figure above you, your tears threatening to spill.

“You’re okay, it’ll get better. Do you want me to stop?” he asked quickly.

“No,” you blurted although your mind and body pleaded yes. “No, go ahead.”

“Okay, just relax, okay?”

Easier said than done, Ethan, your mind snarked, but you hushed it. He cupped your cheek and kissed you slowly, working his tongue along yours lovingly as he pressed in further. You barely contained your whimpers and whines, marveled at how long he was and how he didn’t seem to end, and just took it until he bottomed out against you. He panted noisily, his breath fanning your face and chest and you could tell he was barely hanging on by a thread.

“So… tight…” he exhaled, his chest rising and falling fast. “You’re doing so good, baby, so good. Fuck, you’re so warm and tight, I- You’re so good, you’re better than I ever thought. Fuck,” he rambled still, mumbling more sweet nothings you were sure, but you were tuning out most of it and focusing strictly on adjusting. “Are you okay?“ you heard from afar.

You nodded and begged, “Move.”

Ethan stalled still for a second more until you impatiently tapped the arm that propped himself on the pillow next to you. He rocked his hips back excruciatingly slow until he pulled halfway out and then shifted in again. The pain was piercing yet, but as he forced himself in and out it gradually lessened. After many apprehensive strokes, Ethan fell into a steady rhythm and the heat that had plagued you from the beginning burned hotter, a pressure building in your abdomen.

Ethan’s mouth fell to yours for the thousandth time, still urgent and sweet and irresistible. You pulled his body flush to yours, and he dragged a hand tantalizingly down the length of your torso, ticklish and the best kind of infuriating. You were victim to him completely at this point; your love was nearly tangible as you felt him pump in and out, thick and long and filling you, becoming one with each other. Sweat was trickling down the side of his face and as you pressed a palm to his chest to feel his rapid heartbeat, you felt his skin was burning hot like a furnace. You stared unashamedly at him, your throat tightening at him in all his glory, his tanned skin and his blissful features and his bitten lip. You could hardly take it all, and you flung your head back against the pillow to close your eyes and get a grip.

“Are- you- close?” Ethan asked, his face screwed up with pleasure.

“I think so,” you replied quietly, your toes curling on either side of him. Ethan was clearly on the brink of his own orgasm. You wrapped your thighs around his own, and suddenly it was deeper and fuller and hotter and better and you understood the obsession that surrounded sex completely. His hands fluttered around helplessly before he brought your mouth to his with one and tugged up your knee with the other, gliding into you even deeper than before. A synchronized moan left your mouths and suddenly you felt the persistent buzz, your toes were curling again and your mouth was falling open and Ethan was insistent in kissing you through it all, and it was all too much at once. You felt it wash over you, hot and throbbing and your mind blanked with it all for a moment, only able to feel and feel and feel. It was only a moment later that you felt Ethan spill into you, warm and it helped carry you through the rest of your high.

Ethan rocked back into you a few more times before he fell atop you with a soft ‘umph!’, too exhausted and buzzed to even kiss you. All he could do was press his lips against your throat and exhale on your skin.

After a short time, Ethan finally pulled himself off of you and slipped out, lying flat beside you. Your shared breathing was noisy and the only sound that filled the room, too blissed out to even conjure up a proper thought.

But after some time, Ethan had half a mind to tug the comforter over your bodies, and the glow of the late sunset made you look even more angelic than he’d ever remembered. He simply couldn’t believe it.

“I’m glad you spoke up,” Ethan chuckled, falling on his back again. “Bout me wanting to fuck you.”

You guys shared a laugh and you slapped his chest playfully before flipping on your side, keenly aware of the sore ache between your legs as you did. “Me too. That was awesome.” Ethan laughed and shook his head, and you grinned up at him and asked, “What?

“All the English words in this world—and you know a lot of them—and you choose, ‘awesome’?” he teased, smiling down at you with one of his good smiles. One of his smiles that were full of teeth and scrunched eyes and pinched cheeks. It took away your breath every god damn time.

After composing yourself, you scoffed. “Two things. One, I just got fucked, so I’m a little less eloquent, alright?” you murmured and watched as his eyes glittered at you referring to yourself being fucked by him. It’s simple, it’s stupid, it’s teenagerish, but it’s still great to see the two of you get so excited over sex. “And two, if you take ‘awesome’ in its literal form—like awe-some—it’s a little more eloquent. More poetic. And it was. I’m in awe.”

“Yeah?” he cooed, laying a hand on your waist over the comforter. He was looking at you with this expression, halfway between teasing and just staring with appreciation. He gave you that look a lot, and it always made you feel a little like gold.

“Yeah,” you cooed right back. You took half a second to give him a loving look before your mind kicked back into its English gear, the one you were supposed to be in before you had sex, in the midst of your reading session. You knew—somewhere in the back of your mind—that you should have stayed in that whole sexy-post-sex-glow-conversation for a while, but you thought about what you had just said. “Yeah,” you repeated more firmly. “People overuse that word, ‘awesome’. If they kept it in its literal form, it’d be such a beautiful word. Like, now it’s been ruined and has this connotation to basic teenager language, but really…”

Ethan didn’t even say anything. Didn’t laugh, didn’t poke fun at the way that you almost instantly dived back into your habitual nerdiness and forgot completely about the life-changing thing you two just experienced moments before. He was too happy to care at all—he feels the best kind of tired, blissful, and so very in love. So he listened and loved every second of it, just as he loved every other second with you.

-

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