#lmk if you want more or want to know smth different!!!

[faetima]

Hello ! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

I'm the previous anon who requested that Blade-hanahaki fic and once again, it was so good !! (I'm super excited for part two)

Now, can I please request shy reader with Scaramouche ?

Also, no need to rush and remember to take your time!

I hope you have a great day ! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞. .

. .it tasted like something so sweet, on the tip of your tongue.

// tws ; none :3 ; gn reader ; modern au

a/n: hi anon !! 💞 im sorry this took so long, the last few weeks have been really busy for me. this was kinda just written on a whim so if you don't like it just lmk if you want me to rewrite it or write it w a different concept or smth!! <3

maybe he wasn’t that sweet.

sure, maybe every action from him had you melting like a chocolate left outside on a hot day too long. sure, maybe every action of his was sweet enough to make you nauseous. sure, maybe he was sweet like dark chocolate.

but was dark chocolate really that sweet?

some people loved dark chocolate, but you hated the bitterness of it. you had always preferred sweet things.

so why did you like him so much, when his personality was as bitter as the taste of dark chocolate?

why did you like him so much when he was practically the opposite of you?

you were like white chocolate—sweet and delicate. he was tart, just like dark chocolate.

love was supposed to be sweet, melting softly. so why was he bitter and hard?

—

you swallowed hard, heart beating faster than it ever had.

the teacher had assigned everyone specific places to sit.

scaramouche was assigned to sit next to you.

assigned to sit next to you.

assigned to sit next to you.

you kept your gaze glued to your desk as scaramouche pulled the chair next to you back, scoffing a little.

he didn’t even glance at you.

you couldn’t stop glancing at him.

just another difference between dark and white chocolate.

—

sitting next to him didn’t make it any easier to talk to him.

you were still as scared as before.

what would you say? what if he didn’t want to talk to you? what if he hated you? what would he think of you? what if he didn’t like you? what if he judged you? what if you embarrassed yourself? what if you said a joke and he didn’t laugh? what if you said something stupid? what if you tripped over your words and he laughed at you? what if-

you felt as if someone was staring at you.

you took a shaky inhale, and glanced up to your right.

scaramouche was staring at you.

he was staring at you.

he was staring at you?

immediately, he looked away, muttering something under his breath.

oh. maybe he wasn’t looking at you. maybe he was looking outside (you sat next to a wall). maybe he was looking at someone who sat next to you (again, you sat next to a wall).

he probably wasn’t looking at you. why would he anyways? he didn’t like you. he probably didn’t even know you existed even though you sat next to him.

—

he was so pretty.

scaramouche’s skin was so clear it looked like it were made out of porcelain. the color was eerily similar to that of white chocolate. a light pink—just like the color of strawberry kitkat—dusted his face, adding a soft hint of color. scaramouche swept a hand through his purple hair, eyes narrowed as he stared at the board.

god, even looking at him would give you cavities.

—

you were just sitting, when he tapped you on the shoulder.

he tapped you on the shoulder!

you glanced at him, swallowing.

“uhm, could you help me with this?” he muttered, looking away and thrusting a paper towards you. his face was bright pink.

“oh, uh, sure,” you said nervously, your voice practically shaking.

love tasted like something sweet on the tip of your tongue.

maybe he was more like milk chocolate than you had initially thought.

[vertonghen]

i was really impressed by onana yesterday and saw today that a lot of spurs fans on twitter are talking about wanting him on our team, what are your thoughts? what’s his play style like? what do you think his price point would be?

anon i’ve been wanting to talk about him for so long and this ask came at such a perfect time thank you 😭 i will be yapping a lot under the cut but my main thoughts are 1) i think he would be incredible for us and i love him 2) he’s an absolute monster in defence. versatile, strong, tall, smart 3) i think he’d be quite expensive, i don’t see everton selling him for less than £60 million unless they have to for FFP reasons, im guessing somewhere between £50-80 million.

okay. i’ve also been seeing our fans on twitter talk about wanting him and ive been liking every single tweet because yes!!!! we would absolutely be better with him in our midfield!!!!

firstly, he’s a young and versatile player (he’s only 22!) he was asked to play cb in belgium’s game vs ireland which is an odd position for him but played very well and without complaint. as a person he’s incredibly mature and humble when speaking for belgium, absolutely future captain material and i think he would fit in very well personality wise at spurs as well. he normally plays as a central or defensivemidfielder i believe but can switch to attacking and now to cb whenever needed which is perfect for us.

he’s an absolute monster in defence. tall, strong, incredibly long legs that can sweep the ball out of any player as you saw yesterday, and pretty good vision as well! everton in general are just huuuge but he’s about 195 cm i believe so he’d be vital for us when we’re defending those pesky corners 😖 he’s also great at header goals because he’s so damn tall that no one can get to the ball before him. he’s also not very injury prone, he’s had small injuries here and there but nothing that keeps him out too long.

his debut for belgium was very impressive and he was even called up to the world cup which was a pleasant surprise. one of his best strengths is his ball carrying ability, he’s insane with transition. he reminds me a bit of mousa in the way that he’s quicker than you expect, insanely strong, and amazing at carrying the ball.

i know united, arsenal, barcelona, and chelsea(?) are all interested in him as well which gives you some insight into how good of a player he is. i think barca made an offer of £50 mil and was rejected by everton because they wanted more which is fair. i mean i believe we have the funds for him and i think he’s such an adaptable player that he could easily work in ange’s system so i really hope we show interest in him and act quickly in the summer.

sorry that this was all over the place i was just so excited to talk about him LOL i love him so much. idk if you know that belgium have had their drama recently with courtois and him whining about not getting the armband but amadou was quick to shut down any talks of that drama which is another reason i love him. he always says that as long as he gets to wear the country’s badge he’s happy and honoured and will always fight to keep his position in the belgium squad. he would die for the badge, he would be absolutely perfect for us.

some videos if you want to take a look:

this comp on twt of him in the england game

this vid of him hyping trossard up 😭❤️

just a quick little look into his personality

and a video that the red devils made when he was a rookie introducing him

(he’s also insanely gorgeous i mean that’s just the cherry on top but man he’s handsome)

[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.

[cometkenji]

Doctor, Doctor, please listen!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Chubby!Fem!reader Cw; Tension (I tried), cursing, the smallest physical description of reader in the last portion (just mentions their stomach going over their pants), reader has scars from previous cases, rivals to lovers?, lmk if i'm missing smth Summary: 3 times you called him doctor, 3 times he wonders why. Disclaimer: Reader is always written with a chubby/bigger person in mind but I don't really ever describe their bodies that much cause it's x READER and every body has a different body <3 WC: 3,596 I am literally so obsessed with criminal minds somebody save my soul OBLIVOUS IDIOTS WHO WANT EACH OTHER MY BELOVED. Title from mad hatter by Melanie Martinez don't even @ me for that

1.

“...she will be an important part of making your team function quicker. We fought hard to get her here. I ask that you all treat her with respect and not make me intervene.” 

Strauss finished her introductory spiel with a familiar “mom-glare” towards the team, walking away once she finished her speech. Unfortunately, her departure left you standing alone in front of the most intimidating man you’ve ever seen and four of his team members. You had been practically still until now. You hated the pressure of everyone’s eyes on you, causing a general freeze response to the stress of a new team. Fawn, you thought, the newest addition to the fight or flight categories and also the lovely thing forcing you to practically disassociate in front of your new boss and co-workers. 

“Welcome, Dr. L/N. We’ve heard good things. I’m Aaron Hotchner, I supervise the team.” He was leaning on the table before he stepped forward to shake your hand as he spoke. “This is Emily Prentiss, Jenifer Jareau, Derek Morgan, and Doctor Spencer Reid.” He pointed towards the corresponding people as he spoke of them. “Agent Rossi is away right now, and you’ll meet our T.I. later…she’s been excited.” If you hadn’t been good at your job, you’re sure you would have missed the way his lips turned up slightly at the edges when mentioning the woman. He didn’t seem so scary anymore, more like a father of the team. You’d been expecting a drill sergeant - your last team leader could have given a bull a run for it’s money with how much aggression that guy had. You welcomed the rush of excitement you felt at the discovery, mentally shaking off the stiffness you were carrying. 

“I’m happy to be here, sir. I’ve heard good things about the team, too. Your boss seems to think highly of your capabilities.” You addressed the room as you spoke. Public speaking was a skill you were still trying to master, so you practiced whenever you could. 

Your statement earned a chuckle from the table. Nobody bothered to explain the reason. You figured it was too much history to sum up on the spot. Your eyes wanted to linger on Reid. He seemed so young, and you wondered if he’d been told that his entire career - lord knows you had too. A fellow doctor. You assumed he was a bit of a stickler about the title, as even his boss kept it tacked onto his name when introducing him. You’d originally hoped to find some comfort in the man, on the surface he seemed a lot like you. He was probably too smart for his own good as well. Given the way he was staring at you, though, you felt the realization sink in that the man had no intention of welcoming you. 

“Why exactly do we need another profiler?” His voice held no malice as he spoke in the direction of his boss. There was more curiosity in his voice than anything, however you did pick up on the sense of superiority that sat just beneath the surface of his words. You guessed that’s how he behaved generally - as though he was superior. Still, your head tilted slightly to the side at the question. 

Damn. Tough crowd. 

You saw the intake of breath in Hotchner as he prepared to defend your place here but you spoke before he could start. “While I am a profiler, sir, first and foremost I am a psychiatrist - a doctor. As I’m sure you heard from Strauss, the board is unhappy with your recent efficiency rates and would also like to aid your team in dealing with mental health crises. I’ve spent my entire life studying the effects and conditions of the mentally diseased brain. I’ll be able to tell you the most efficient and effective way of interacting with these individuals, along with more accurately predicting their actions and methodology. I’m an agent, I took the same oath everyone here did but I was brought here for my expertise.” You were on a bit of a tangent, you knew that, but something about the smug feel of the man forced an emergence of competitiveness. He looked at you so indifferent, and you couldn’t help the tiny sparks of anger lighting beneath your skin. You kept a friendly disposition towards the man - you were a professional, after all, not a teenager - but you sensed a rivalry sprouting it’s roots.

The others at the table suppressed their smiles or looked down to hide it. Nobody had ever challenged Spencer like that. They could all feel he was a tad bit territorial. He was the guy people went to when they needed to know something. He was the Doctor of the group. They didn’t think he would take too kindly to another one encroaching his land. They saw the way he was tense, even more so after you responded. It was a riveting sight, though. The lot of them saw Spencer as a younger brother, and him meeting his match was something they were all so excited to see.

“Play nice, pretty boy.” Derek muttered to him, Spencer was slightly slouched in his chair now, not losing sight of you. Derek followed suit, turning his attention towards you. “We’re glad to have you, Doctor. We’ve spoken about an addition like you before, I’m glad to see the higher ups finally listened. I look forward to working with you - excuse me.” He left once his phone rang. 

The others took his exit as an excuse for their own, everyone giving you a warm welcome as they left. You reciprocated happily, telling everyone they could just call you by your first name, never having been one for titles. ‘There’s one difference.’ You thought, even your internal dialogue was bitter. Aside from him, there was a warmth here that you had been desperate to find in your last team. If you had to work passive aggressively with one uptight man in exchange for a team like this - you were going to take that deal. 

He refused to leave it seemed. He just sat looking inquisitively at the table, occasionally extending his stare to look at you before returning. How did you two end up alone in this room?

“Are you gonna have a problem with me, Doctor?” You shifted slightly on your feet. A notoriously nervous sign, one he definitely picked up on.

He stared again. It was his mind that kept him rooted in his seat. You were fucking alluring. He’d never met someone so like himself in his line of work. He was being a dick and he knew it but it seemed to be instinctual - some type of precaution, maybe. He didn’t know why you were being so respectful. Doctor. God, he didn’t know if the title had ever sounded so good being directed at him. His frustration only rose as he thought on the issue more. He wasn’t welcoming, it would be so easy to drop the formality, something he knew you knew would get on his nerves. But you didn’t. It didn’t seem like a question of dignity. You didn’t seem like the type to refuse a little pettiness - he sure wasn’t the type either. A thought stirred, an unsafe one he wanted to squash immediately but one he also couldn’t help but lean into. Did you want a power imbalance?

“No.” He stood abruptly, obviously still focused on the thoughts in his head. “Welcome to the team.” He addressed you one last time and then walked out of the room.

You followed shortly after, ready to make home on your couch and be done with being the newbie for the day. Your stress would follow you home, though, as the last thing you heard before you left the building was “Oh my god they’re perfect for each other.”

2.

The first few weeks were always the hardest. This was something you knew and were prepared for but it did nothing to calm your nerves. You’d been on countless missions having worked this job for a while now, but this was an entirely new dynamic to learn. You were an outsider for the first time in four years and it was scary. This case was shaping up to be a rough one, too. A man was having delusions telling him to kill. An extremely rare manifestation of his Schizophrenia, only elevated by the newly acquired aspect of him being an insomniac. 

Spencer hadn’t ceased being headstrong in cases either. Every time you wanted to help he made it his mission to overcompensate in order to snuff you out. On the contrary, he’d warmed up to you a little. It wasn’t major, he barely held any positive feelings toward you, but barely was better than not at all, so you coped. You two had managed a couple small talk conversations outside the battle of one-upping that you were currently losing. You absolutely hated it, but you liked him. You liked him a lot, actually. You don’t know when in the past few days that anger morphed into fondness but it had shifted hard. The casual dominance he exuded drew you in like a porchlight lures a moth. You doubted the opposite proved true for him, and that stung. You came to enjoy the banter, the competition, even if you were always playing the losing hand. It was the only way to get his undivided attention and the feeling of his eyes on you started to follow you home. 

You thought a lot about how you could get the relationship to pivot into something better. You didn’t want to be the girl he bickered with at work. You didn’t know what it was you wanted but you knew that your current fate sounded horrid. He was an ass, though, and he did not make it easy to admit those feelings. Every time he undermined you, you grew more attached and also more angry at yourself for doing so. It was because he’s so much like you, you thought. You knew from the way he interacted with his team that he wasn’t a cold guy, didn’t hold malice towards people for no reason. He needs time. He needs to know you, and God how badly you wanted to know him. 

You had sustained good relations with everyone the past few weeks you’ve been here. Meeting Garcia and Rossi had been a treat - both of them being delightful company. You’d heard them whispering about you and Spencer when they thought you weren’t around. The whole team seems to think that you’re basically fated to be together. It was unnerving how comforting that thought was to you. You hoped they were right. 

Spencer hoped they were right too. He’d heard the same whispers you had, chastising the team when he got the chance as if he didn’t think about you every moment he could. His eyes seemed to naturally land on you if you were around. He watched you walk around the bureau more and more lately, enjoying the gained confidence in your step as you cemented your place in the team. The sway of your hips or the swing of your arms. You mesmerized him no matter what you did. One time he got so caught up in his thoughts of you that Prentiss had to check he wasn’t having a silent panic attack. He clung to his sense of resentment, tried so hard to remind himself of the feelings he had when he first met you - you were beautiful, of course you were - but you were on claimed land and he was anything but eager for you to make home on it. That had faded fast, seeing how kind you were, scrambling to help and earn respect from everyone. The only reason he kept up the act of  “man who wants you gone” was so that he could keep talking to you. Spencer was a genius but he didn’t know how to handle someone like you. He’d been interested in girls before, hell he’d had girlfriends before but it had never felt like this in such little time. Such intense infatuation was crippling for someone who’s brain worked in patterns - this was new ground for him. 

“Everybody suit up. We have Foster’s location and we need to move quickly. He’s going after the source of his rage and we don’t have time to spare.” Hotch came down the stairs two at a time, spurring the team into action. 

“This man is highly dangerous but also highly deluded. The cases I’ve read similar to this say it’s best to speak gently. He’s sick but he can be reasoned with.” Spencer pulls from his memory as he sets his ‘FBI’ vest into place on his chest. 

“No, not this time. This man is too severe, his mind is too far gone. If these hallucinations of his are strong enough for him to touch them it’ll be extremely easy for him to rearrange or imagine your words differently. You need to be loud, direct, and assertive. Speak as little as possible. The quieter you are, the easier it will be for him to change what you’re saying in his head.” You also spoke while putting your vest on. You didn’t carry a weapon - a personal vow of yours, as you were more than classified to - so there were no holsters to fill. The contradictions between the two doctors of the team made everyone hesitate even though they lacked the time to do so.

Spencer looked at you, slightly out of breath from working so quickly. “You’re questioning my memory?” 

“I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor. I’m questioning your sources. There’s a higher risk level if we do what you’re suggesting. Let me do my job.” You made the final adjustments to your attire as you finished speaking. You returned his eye contact for just a beat too long, letting the others rush out of the building while you stood your ground, the two of you begrudgingly following after them a moment later.

You had been assigned a different car than him for the ride over. ‘Thank God’ was the only thing you could think when you saw him heading to the other SUV. After another confrontation - another public one, at that - you weren’t sure you could handle being pressed leg to leg with him in the backseat. Your words were a looping record in his head as he rode towards Foster. They were about to attempt a hostage negotiation with a man seeing people who weren’t there but all he could think about was that fucking word you refused to drop. 

I’m not questioning your memory, Doctor

You had to be doing this on purpose, he thought. He originally believed this had started because you knew stripping him of his beloved title would cause irritation. Now he suspected you knew how badly he wanted his name in your mouth and this was your way of torturing him. ‘It’s working.’ He thought. God was it working. He agreed with his team, you were perfect for him. You had knowledge to match his, kept him on his toes. One time the start of a ramble slipped through his “I don’t like you” façade and he felt his heart speed up at the genuine interest that roused in your eyes. You wanted to know him and he was an idiot for all the shit he was doing. 

He wasn’t surprised when your strategy worked and Ben Foster was taken into custody. You were the one to talk him down, and if you hadn’t already been accepted to the team, he knew then and there that they needed you. You were flawless. He knew you’d been doing this as long as he had and it showed. He pleaded with himself to stay focused, zeroed in on the weight of the gun in his hand to save face. His mind never left you, though, much like his eyes. This was the expertise you spoke of - no wonder they fought hard to get you here. 

“You were excellent in there.” It was just the two of you now. Even in the dull, flashing police lights, you were breathtaking. “Good job.” He said. Then he walked away because he was on the brink of kissing you and didn’t feel like breaking about 18 workplace rules while at the scene of a crime. You wouldn’t have been complaining if he did.

3.

Every time something like this happened it was difficult to remind yourself that not carrying a weapon was a choice you made willingly. You were currently sitting in the back of an open ambulance, about to be hoisted onto a stretcher and driven to the ER for stitches. You’ve been with the BAU for almost 3 months now and have miraculously managed to avoid injury in that time. This had been one of the easier cases. No chases or clues to follow, just a sick man who left a fairly obvious paper trail. You were the speaker on almost all cases. You were in charge of de-escalating a situation, making sure the bomb didn’t blow. You’ve never carried a weapon, always preferring to take the wounds of a job over using a gun to back up your words. You were a psychiatrist, you wanted to make people better, not vilify them. It worked, usually. People did tend to trust you more when you were unarmed. This time, though, it got you stabbed.

It wasn’t a bad injury, the blood had already stopped and was mildly dry by the time Spencer was joining you. Just one more scar to your collection. It was to the side of your quad, missing any artery by miles and just serving as a pain source at this point. A little numbing and some stitches and you’d be right as rain is what the doctor in the ambulance had said. 

“What happened?” He spoke softly to you. There wasn’t a rivalry between you two, not really. The banter hadn’t stopped, but it changed. It was playful and actually fun now. The both of you weren’t obsessed with outdoing the other anymore. Some casual boastfulness and a budding friendship is where you were at with him currently. 

“I got stabbed.”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.”

He exhaled like he couldn’t comprehend the stupidity of your answer. You laughed at that. One enjoyable pastime you’d picked up in the past month was trying to bewilder him. The EMT said he needed to check the rest of your body for injury despite your protest of such a procedure. It was typical and you knew that, but you held onto the fear of your own body that middle school gave you. There was a man you liked here, and the thought of him seeing the bit of stomach that hung outside the waistline of your pants scared you more than you thought it would. You forced yourself to be rational in spite of this. It was Spencer, you wanted to be seen by him. 

“Holy shit.”

You chuckled at that. You forgot that maybe a warning was in order for the amount of scars that littered your stomach.

“Probably should have told you about those.” There were dozens. You amassed a countless amount of scars over the course of your job. Stab wounds, bullet grazes, burn marks. Unsubs, as much as you tried to empathize, were often violent at the end of the day and usually lashed out before they could be helped. 

He was staring - well, gazing more like. Not like someone stares at a car accident on the freeway but instead how someone stares at the moon - awe. He was in awe of you. Your strength, your courage, the fact that you went through all these individual events and still chose not to arm yourself. Some of these were in places that could have been fatal, and he thanked whatever entity may be listening that you persevered, begged them to continue that streak. He crashed hard into the desire to touch you, to run his hands over what little of your past he could see. He wondered if you would let him. If you’d fit into his palms the way he thought you would - if that was something you even wanted. The EMT was gone by now, having moved to the passenger seat for the ride to the hospital. 

“Could I - " He hesitated for a moment, this was definitely the wrong question to ask. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes glazed over slightly. Jesus. You felt your lips part a little.

“You want to?” Genuine surprise. You didn’t think you looked particularly desirable in your current state. He wanted to touch your fucking scars. Who does he think he is?

“Please.” He was looking at you in a way you hadn’t seen before. His eyes were glazed over too. You held his eyes as you nodded. The heat was so stifling that you laughed just a little at the tension.

“Fucking hell, Spence.”

Blood shot to his ears when you said his name. It had been well worth the wait to hear you say it like that - breathy and confused and so fucking pretty that he wondered how he ever lived before you said it. 

“Will you tell me about them?” He was breathy too, but he wouldn’t have you here, not like this. He just needed to feel you. 

“I’ll tell you anything you want, Doc.”

His hands were warm. It wouldn’t be the last time you felt them.

[dollfacedsl1ut]

Crystal Moon

dynamic: g!p ning x siren!fem reader

synonsis: ningning went to a nearby beach to clear her mind but there’s a unexpected visitor who she meets along the way

warnings: dubcon, manipulation, exhibition, seduction, dacryphilia (crying), begging, overstimulation, both are dominate at one point, Ning is a little depressed lmk if I’m missing smth !!!!

wc: 1,329 or 1.3k

A/N: in honor of my LONNGGGGG awaited return I’ve made something new plus I’m accepting bg requests!!

The old sand molted the shape of ningning feet as she walked along the beachside, this was the only way she would be able to think, everything was just so clouded in her mind and she needed to catch a break, whether it was paparazzi or stalkers following her it was all too much, this beach reminded her of the good times she had as a kid although it looked different….. it was windier and cloudy all the time not a lick off sun in sight..

Ning rested against a large rock near the ocean the tidal waves marking their path in the brown sand, her eyes felted heavy as she glanced at the empty vodka bottle she had tucked away in her jacket, she knew she’d have to go back and face reality eventually but a little break wouldn’t hurt anyone

She let her eyes close for a brief second before a a sweet yet seductive tune played in her head, maybe it was the alcohol she thought over and over until the rhythm changed…”Yeah theres no way I’m dreaming” she thought as her legs dangled from the large rock, the tune got louder and more intense but the voice of whatever it was made her head foggy, foggier than it was before it was mind controlling in a way, she counted complain it was such as beautiful thing to hear but she felt like it was the only thing she heard the sound of the ocean water hitting the rocks gone, the sound of the birds chirping and flapping their wings erased, just the tune was heard, yeah she was in denial until a dark figure was seen moving from under the wooden brown bridge in front of her.

Maybe her suspicions were true she’s not dreaming…but in fact hallucinating Ning groaned as she lifted her body off the rock before plopping down on the sand, she could’ve swore she stepped on a seashell or a hermit crab? But nonetheless her foot was on a sharp object, she didn’t know if she wanted to check on her foot or follow the figure who released the tune..

She just couldn’t think straight so ignoring her very aching foot she went after it but the song got louder and more hypnotizing and intoxicating it felt like drinking the most throat burning alcohol in the world, right when it felt like she was gonna faint she spotted a dark purple tail she reached out to try and grab it but it moved upwards like it was begging Ning to touch it, but that’s when the song stopped as the tail turned into a pair of long soft legs

“H-hello” Ning said with a shaky voice unaware of the creature that was before her eyes, the now human walked in front of ning as she gawked, your skin was glistening as her eyes trailed from your body to your chest then your dark eyes, they looked lifeless to Ning but she didn’t move..she couldn’t move..it was like someone was holding her in place.. you were holding her place the song she heard wasn’t a dream or a hallucination it was you..you lead her here to do what exactly??

Your dark eyes pierced her skin, it made her feel invisible but when your hand touched and grasped her shoulder she knew you were real “w-who are you” she whispered “if I told you who I was I’d be banished so let’s just call me siren” her voice gave her chills as she nodded your presence drove her crazy but your body was hypnotic, needless to say there was a visble tent in her pants as she looked at you trembling “I must say I never seen another human on this beach in months” Ning almost came right there when you kept speaking to her, she didn’t know you could sense her arousal, your arms brung Ning in for a bare hug before dragging her under the wooden brown bridge, she wanted to scream and fight, she didn’t want to go with you, she didn’t know if you wanted to kill her or even take her away she was defenseless because she just had to come to you, she just had to be attracted to your song and follow you…

You reached the bridge as you placed her down on the sand this part was much darker and colder it made her nipples perk up under her gray hoodie, Ning was afraid but aroused, you straddles her hips as your hands rested on her shoulders “you know what I’m gonna do to you is your own fault right…..you purposely followed me for you’re own reasoning” she wanted to believe it wasn’t but your words persuaded her, a smile formed on your lips as you unzipped her hoodie, her skin was so and delicate, it was life one slice with your claws and her skin would be tainted

Your hands trailed to her pants as her tent was visible you smiles softly before pulling them down but leaving them on her thighs although you were gonna take advantage of her you didn’t want her to get horrifyingly sick, there was a sight of precum left in her boxers as you pulled them down revealing her cock, it stood upright as it smacked against her soft belly it was so thick and long, this was visibly the biggest you’ve ever seen even male sirens didn’t have this much girth you thought as you slide down your panties, there was a hint of worry on nings face as you lifted yourself up then guided down on her cock, the stretch was painful but bearable, you sank down until your clit reached her pelvis, Ning gasped and whimpered under you as her hands immediately went to your hips kneading the soft flesh, you tried your best to stay silent but it just felt too good your body weakened as you moved your hips against hers her cock felt good in your tummy, her tips was pushing and hitting your cervix as you got leverage and started to lift your hips and bounce on your cock, your whimpers didn’t go unproved by Ning as she kept kneading your hips while letting out whimpers or curses every other second, your cunt squeezed her cunt deliciously as your hips moved restlessly it was so magical and synchronized, her flesh slapped against yours as liquid ran down your legs she didn’t know you came yet until the white ring formed around her cock, she felt her high coming as you clamped around her, she didn’t know you could get this tight it was unbearable as tears rolled down her cheeks, she came inside your cunt with a loud cry as her hands squeezed you tight, but you didn’t stop you wanted to be full you haven’t felt like that in a while and she was your only option, her cock veins bulged and dragged against her spongy walls as you came again, your cum was beginning to soaked her joggers, Ning hiccuped as she pleaded and begged you to go faster, her feeble voice was such a turn on it made your cunt quiver around her, you felt her hands snake up your body and grasp your chest fondling with your nipples, you moaned at the sensation, as your hips stuttered.. you were close again but so was Ning her cock throbbed inside of your cunt as she squeezed and pinched your nipples your bottom lip tucked under your teeth as you came around her for the last time, Ning followed as her warm cum coated your walls.

Nings eyes closed as you lifted yourself off her, you cleaned her up but left her on the sand unconscious or conscious you’ll never know, but you did know she’d be back to look for you and always you’d be singing your tune wishing she would be the one to come find you….

[starlostseungmin]

stray kids ─── as one direction songs.

✰ pairing : non-idol!skz x afab!reader

✰ genre : fluff, angst, maybe suggestive?

✰ warnings : subtle mentions of sex and drugs, kissing, mentions of food and profanity. lmk if i missed smth.

✰ notes : uhm i really don't know what i wrote. this has been sitting on my drafts since november and thank god anon reminded me about it (i actually went on hiatus after minho's birthday last year so yeah) the songs i associated with skz members are just strongly my opinion mehehe i hope you guys like it, idk if you agree with me in regards with the songs but DO NOT FORGET TO REBLOG, COMMENT AND LEAVE TAGS after it! thank you so much <33

✰ tags : @notastraykid , @ameliesaysshoo , @l3visbby , @reignessance , @lix-ables , @skzfelixlove , @rachabreathing , @hyunverse , @minluvly

masterlist | taglist.

chan ─── perfect

honorable mention: little things

you already know how fucked up your life is but ever since he came, those days became different. it is always the small gestures that one fails to notice in the blink of an eye. you are just going to be surprised by the time it is done or how you managed to get out of a small inconvenience. he loves you so much that he would put you first before anything else. 

chan is different from everyone else. maybe because he is labeled to be kind and so above average of doing the bare minimum which people seek from their partners. he’s perfect but he doesn’t think of it the same way. 

you tried to convince him a hundred times but all you got in response is him being a blushing mess and his giggle that makes your heart warm every time you hear it. a smile would tug on your lips that would make him stare at you, he’d bounce back on the things you said to him and you think about what did you do in your past life to deserve someone as perfect as him. 

“baby, you’re perfect,” you said for the nth time, “no, i’m not, but i’m perfect for you,” he winked. “that was smooth, chan,”

lee know ─── night changes

he might be the type to not show his feelings immediately but he’s the one who subtly shows them. it started slowly, he reassured you that everything would fall into place once you both could figure out what was going on with this relationship. 

but as long as you’re together, the love you and him shared will never change. although the process of this love story has made things go in different directions, the thought of having to stick together is essential. 

your parents didn’t like him at first, they had someone in mind and that wasn’t him and yet, you didn’t care even if your first date was a disaster and the next one after that, but that didn’t stop you. it took a while for your parents to finally accept him after tons of convincing them that he’s a great guy, but it succeeded later on. 

you had a place on your own and welcomed his cats to live with you when some of them were wild, that’s what you think. minho was a mess when you met him, but thanks to you, it’s not that bad anymore. 

changbin ─── temporary fix

honorable mention: i want to write you a song

changbin is the type to offer himself as someone you can lean on but it’s not always because of this friendship you have, but as a lover who wanted to make you feel better and forget about shit. 

temporary fix is not always meant to be a cover-up of something you’d open up again to allow another train of bullshits in your life. it felt like he was being sent from the heavens to look out for you, an angel whose sole mission is to make you happy, the same feeling like something that keeps you high. 

there’s this thing on changbin’s vibe that you don’t want to share with anybody else and he makes you feel things when you’re with him. even though this relationship sounds like a fling and a guy who sneaks into your dorm late at night to make out with you, well, it used to be. but you know changbin is so much more than that after a while. 

the phrase, “you can call me when you need me, you know?” whenever he sleeps with you is now in the trashbin the moment you settle to be someone to each other.

hyunjin ─── last first kiss 

remember the time when he said that he chose to be the last love instead of the first? exactly. being the last person to love is basically spending the rest of your life with him, even if he’s not your first kiss, not your first love, not your first in everything, it’s fine as long as he’ll be the one you’ll remember as your eternal love. 

hyunjin being fitted into this song is like a message that he wanted to convey to his love, a sentiment that would indicate how much he’d spend time and effort to stay by your side until the end of time. indeed, a hopeless romantic man he is. 

last first kiss is the very first song that reminds you of him, it is part of those memories you made with him. it was that time when he decided to take this relationship to the next level, yes, he did mention that he wanted to be your last, and by what he meant, an everlasting love. 

“let me be your last,” and when you heard him say that, you knew he was the man who fits perfectly into your broken puzzle that would mend the wound forever.

han ─── rock me

honorable mention: midnight memories

rock me suits him as well as midnight memories. but midnight memories have their effects on han, giving him the vibes of being a musician specializing in the rock genre. and as someone who loves to listen to almost every genre in the world, you fell in love with him after watching him busking by the streets. 

you were amazed by how talented he is. his fingers strummed that guitar well, and his voice? like an angel. one could say that he is a free-spirited human being who does whatever he wants and writes songs about some things that piqued his interest. 

then there’s you, a broken melody who longed for him to come back, the same goes for him who let you go. both of you thought that you were too young to be in love and jisung was better off alone but his songs were dedicated to your break up. you rocked his world when you came and left broken notes when it ended.

but he always believed that what you had back then, was real and that you’d always remember the love you had. 

felix ─── why don’t we go there 

honorable mention: kiss you

felix is someone who gets hyped easily whenever you’re with him. his bright smile, his funny reactions, and the unidentified sounds that came out of his mouth made him a fun guy to be with. it started with a fling that turned out to be something you didn’t want to rush but it is slowly beginning to have a label. 

having a relationship with him offered different dynamics. it is the way he grabs your hand when you both start to get caught by the waves crashing by the shore or how he felt when you kissed him for the first time. he is someone who can get dragged with you to whatever your plan is, a great ball of sunshine to your rainy days, someone that you don’t want to be the one that got away. 

he does think the same, especially the fact that he treasures you so much and it became an opportunity to love you more when you spend that one night together somewhere, alone. it was an invitation actually and it made you realize a lot of things. 

it is the way he looked at those stars with those dazzling eyes of his. the constellation plastered on his cheeks glowed along with them, it is what they call freckles, you love them as much as how felix felt for you. having him as a getaway made you don’t want to come back, ever again.

seungmin ─── no control

night changes was the first choice but then no control became the one for him, no control, because he is, a menace. he believed that being in love was something that gullible people would do and get hurt, maybe a few of them proved it to be valid and worth it, yet he isn’t convinced because it is just a waste of time. 

and yet, you came out of nowhere. it is the way he looks at you with those dazzling puppy eyes, the way he obeys the things you wanted him to do, and it gets worse when you share intimate affections. from a gentle puppy to a wild wolf. there’s something about you that drives him crazy every time. 

nothing matters to him when you’re around and he never felt this way before. he’d kiss you out of nowhere when you reached home with your back against the wall as your hands played with his hair. he gets weak and powerless, but gets hyped and rough which you get caught off guard every time. 

and he is very loyal, he always makes sure that no other will ever meet his interest. you don’t want to share, anyway and you got him down bad.

jeongin ─── summer love

honorable mention: fool's gold.

loving jeongin is like a breath of fresh air, the freedom that he finally held in his hands, and the time he can make up for himself to be with you. it was a reckless summer that you spent in your grandma’s place, away from the bustling city and this boy showed up on your doorsteps. 

it didn’t take a while that you immediately had this puppy love type of interest in each other. you started sneaking out in the middle of the night when your grandma was in her deep sleep, swimming together by the river across the small town on a random afternoon, sharing a kiss under an oak tree that tasted like your grandma’s apple pie, it was great. you didn’t want it to end. 

and just like any other summer, it did. you didn’t know if you would still have this continuous conversation when the school year starts since jeongin is miles away from where you live. 

you saw him sitting on one of those branches of the oak tree where you kissed for the first time, and there you promised not to lose each other even if the summer ended. you couldn’t believe that what you did for less than two months was this serious. it was hard to say goodbye, yet you hoped nothing would change after the last summer’s sunset.

©️ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐌𝐈𝐍 , 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒.

[onlyseokmins]

lusty gallant • c.s.c.

Pairing: choi seungcheol x afab!reader

Genres: smut (minors dni!), roommates!au, fwb!au, lil angst if you squint

Warnings: monster dick cheol <3, swearing, breeding (mentions of pregnancy), size kink, lots of cum and cumming inside, fingering, bantering ofc, choking, lil bit of praise and degradation, hair pulling, man (dick) handling, prolly unhygienic sex tendencies, teeny possession heh, basically reader and cheol are pussy/dick whipped and heathens, sassy, and lil shits (affectionate). pls lmk if i missed smth I'm sleepy

WC: 2.6k

A/N: happy birthday to my beloved soulmate @duhnova <3333 you've been such a lovely presence and have become one of my favorite people from tumblr ❤️ ty for always matching my pace and being so loving and bright always! i really hope you like this heh i tried smth a lil different and we all know I'm secretly feral for cheol and love you lots <3 hope your special day is the best day ever! also happy 1st fic of 2023!! Many more to come I promise 💖 update: 9/6: sequel

When Seungcheol walks through the door with the biggest shit-eating smirk on his stupidly handsome face, you know he's up to something. It makes you want to tear off the beanie snug around his head. Oh. And maybe the rest of his clothes too.

"What is it?" you grouse out as he stands expectantly in front of the television screen. "This better be important because I'm missing the finale."

He knows this but still blocks the screen. Because he's also unbearingly smug, aware of how you can't stop checking him out. Where else are you supposed to divert your eyes when he's in the way though?

"Don't worry, sweetheart," Seungcheol has the audacity to wink at you through his clear-rimmed glasses, "you'll like it lots."

You easily feign disgust. "Why in the world do you think I will?"

"Because," he rocks back on the balls of his feet. Hands burying deep inside the pockets of his gray sweatpants only helps exemplify the outline of his big, long, thick dick inside. "You like me."

"Please. I've kept my end of the bargain so don't go assuming that I haven't."

It's the way his smirk grows wider that stops you from throwing even more daring accusations his way. You also know what kind of man he is. It was very obvious what you signed up for after agreeing to be his roommate. 

To ignore all his minor inconvenient and annoying tendencies in exchange for basically living without having to drop a dime for rent or groceries in a nice apartment.

"You like my dick."

Oh. And free cock. The best and biggest kind of cock you might have ever encountered and probably will ever again. No strings attached.

Except everyone knows that those nonexistent strings very much so exist. And are attached. To Seungcheol's cock. Not the man himself. Definitely not. He knows it. Your best friends know it. His own friends might know it too.

Even the couch knows. You grimace. Thinking back to the night before. And the night before that. And last week — 

Yeah, the couch definitely knows.

"Yeah occasionally, and?"

You continue to glower straight at Seungcheol's crotch as it seemingly moves closer to you. Every step he takes causes his cock to jostle slightly in his pants. Your jaw aches instinctually and you know you're probably drooling.

Disgusting.

But you are a dedicated whore.

"Occasionally, my ass," Seungcheol mutters in disbelief, more to himself if anything, already half hard. 

It's truly unfair how you frown cutely, seated below him so prettily with a rebellious glint in your eyes. Oh, how he loves to fuck that attitude out of you. Even now, the way your lips curl down in faux disgust causes his hips to jut forward.

"You're insatiable," you mock when he shifts even closer until his clothed cock nearly presses against your nose. Suddenly enveloped in his scent, you can't help but go ahead and nuzzle teasingly against his bulge.

"Says the one who begged to be filled up this morning."

His words make your hole clench pitifully, causing you to purse your lips. Soaked and stickied fabric sits between your legs. Not just from being constantly wet around this man. But the same stupid man who had naughtily pulled your panties back up to cover your poor spent and abused pussy after a long, hard sleepy fuck to ensure not a drop was wasted after cumming deep inside.

And you loved it. There was something special, something you treasured about feeling full of his messy release coating in and all over your cunt. It surely beats the warmth of his arms you've never felt when he nonchalantly throws the covers over your shoulders and saunters out with a literal bounce in his step.

You wonder why Seungcheol even bothers paying and staying in a two bedroom apartment when you both end up in the same bed. Maybe the variety of wondering who will crawl under whose blankets makes it all worthwhile.

"What did you want to show me?" you fire back.

"Oh," an eyebrow raises, "you think you deserve to see?" 

The feeling of his hand pushing your forehead back is harsh enough that your tongue automatically pokes out with the expectation of a heavy cock laid upon it. Instead, his fingers that stroke your cheek are gentle. Seungcheol is not a kisser. But the featherlight tracing of circles along your neck make up for it.

Your eyes roll back when his thumb rubs along your throat, the rest of his fingers wrapping around with a gentle squeeze.

"Hm?"

"Of course."

"I don't think so." Seungcheol's decision makes your jaw drop but he's not finished yet. "Always acting out and misbehaving like a total brat. Have I still not fucked you hard enough?"

You wince, shifting in your seat lightly, because that statement is not entirely untrue. For sure, you can't recall the last time you weren't at least a little bit sore, struggling to sit comfortably with how brutally he's had his way consensually with you. Still. Nothing will ever be enough to fully rid you of your brattiness.

It's simply a part of your wonderful personality that everyone should appreciate more. And Seugncehol does. He adores everything about you.

Not that you would know. You don't even attempt to understand the pondering look in his dark brown eyes while he casually squeezes and releases his grip around your throat. Unaware that he's thinking about purchasing that cute collar and leash set he saw. Gifting it to you as a one-year anniversary celebration present since you moved in. Wondering what color would suit you best.

"Shirt off, wanna see your pretty body."

It's easy to maintain eye contact and a naughty smile until the shirt has to be pulled off your head. There's no need to wear a bra at home, nipples already perking up before your upper body is bare. Surprisingly Seungcheol doesn't focus on your tits as expected and you meet his eyes again with a questioning stare.

"Show me," he coughs, changing his tune, "show me if you kept your tiny lil hole filled up."

Your cheeks burn. Not out of shame. It's just his stupid effect. Legs already shaking, you stand. He backs up, giving you space and crosses his arms, eyebrows pinching together as he observes every single movement. Your trembling hands tug at your sleep shorts that barely cover anything.

"Turn around."

You obey, of course. Sucking in a harsh breath and bracing yourself as you throw your shorts on the floor, sticking your ass out on purpose. You're sure your panties are an absolute mess to look at — you can feel it — and Seungcheol's loud grunt only confirms the truth that it's a visual to die for.

Even though the best part hasn't even started yet.

Continuing to bend over, you ease them down slowly. Slower than necessary. Every slide down further and further makes the fabric stick to your center, a filthy mixture of arousal and Seungcheol's cum drenching it. A clear string of your essence clings to the material when you finally get them off and his low curses only make your pride swell, pussy lips fluttering and pushing out more of a mess.

"You touched yourself." His disappointed tone is obvious. But the pleasant reminder of flicking lazy circles on your clit over your panties while dipping an occasional finger to play and move around the cum inside makes your body thrum in pleasure. "Seriously? And you thought I was insatiable?"

"What's the matter? I was bored while you ran your silly errands and left me all alone," you purr. "You can just fill me up again. Maybe try and keep your dick deep inside this time. Or let me cockwarm you after, promise I won't waste a single drop."

When you lick your lips and wiggle your hips, Seungcheol scoffs. "Desperate little thing."

He shuffles closer, taking time to lick his palm like a heathen before roughly cupping your pussy. It's not like there's a need to wet his hand. But the heady way you can't help but watch how stupid sexy he looks through your eyelashes only eggs him on. Fingers spread your lower lips so the rest of the thick white globs can fall out and then he's slipping one inside your cunt.

"Not like much can fit in this tiny hole. Surprised you aren't pregnant yet after being stuffed full." Feeling you squeeze and suck his finger in more taunts him to add another. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? That's why you keep asking for it."

There's no time to adjust to the way he curls his fingers just right that you're already dizzy with pleasure. And then he speeds up, shoving them in at a rapid pace that fills the room with loud squelching sounds and whimpering moans.

Your hands brace the back of the couch for dear life, upper body already lurching forward with the way Seungcheol can render your body to his will completely. You're sensitive but it feels so fucking good. Any twinges of discomfort are drowned out by fuzzy pleasure.

Then suddenly, you're left empty. There's not much time to complain about it though before he's rubbing his hand across your ass, smearing it with the glistening sheen coating his fingers. Watching how your cheeks jiggle in time. 

You hear a hum, a tickling sensation tracing down your back before he's pulling you up by the back of your neck to lay flush against his chest.

Hips rut against your ass, betraying his desperation and messing up his sweatpants — not that the man cares. He probably revels in it. There's something that makes you weak in the knees, though, with Seungcheol fully clothed while you wait naked and bare for him to make the next move. 

One moment his hand slides from the back of your neck to the front in a gentle chokehold, muttering something about "had to make sure you're nice and empty to take another load" and the next moment the world spins as he pushes you down on the couch.

You land on your back, supported by his strong arms so you barely actually fall. Hovering above you, he finally rips off his beanie and you gasp when pink strands flutter out down to tickle your nose.

"You dyed your hair?"

"Yeah, thought it'd look prettiest between your legs." Your pussy flutters at the mention and so does your damn heart. "Besides, you know what the color is named?"

"What?"

"Lusty gallant." Seungcheol beams when you erupt into delighted laughter. "See, isn't it perfect?"

"It really is!"

"Knew you had a crush on me."

His pompous smirk makes your teeth grind and you spit out, "Where did that come from?"

"You think I'm gallant. Brave. Heroic. A gentleman."

"Did you know?" Your finger pokes at his firm chest, sliding down, down, and down. "It also means a big… fucking…" you grab at his cock hard, "flirt. Yeah, it is perfect."

He hisses at the harsh contact. "I'm not a flirt!"

"Hm, sure."

Of course, he relents when you squeeze him even tighter. "Alright… maybe just with you, though. You know you're the only one I fuck. Can't help but rile you up, it's sexy."

You stick your tongue out in pure spite at him only to quickly retract it before he can pull at it like he enjoys. 

"You kept it long?"

It seems like such a hassle. You remember him pouting about doing something new with it and figured it'd be easier to cut before coloring it.

"You like pulling at it, so…"

"You like me pulling at it."

"Takes two to tango," he grins and leans back to tug off his pants. His cock slaps against the t-shirt covering up abs. Red. Hard. Angry. Oozing loads of pre-cum. "I could sit here all day instead?"

You go to sit up, ready to ride the smirking man into oblivion and shut him the hell up but he clicks his tongue, caging you in between his arms and keeping you on your back. 

"No, sweet stuff. I'm on top today. And you're gonna have to put what you want inside you yourself." 

As if it's a challenge. You bite your lip to try and stop your coy smile from lighting up your face. One last, tight clutch around his thick cock for good measure before you rub it along your outer pussy lips. 

"No," Seungcheol huffs out, "no teasing." 

It's a goddamn power trip for this man to be so close to losing control. You guide the large head inside your hole, knowing if you take it a bit too far any longer, you'll be in trouble if he has to beg. 

Despite the slow pace you take to ease his fat girth inside, once he bottoms out with his balls settled against your asscheeks — the brutal thrusts of his hips begin. They snap at an unbelievably fast pace, so much so that your body jerks uncomfortably against the scratchy material of the couch. Head dangerously close to bumping against the arm rest. 

"Hold on to me, baby." 

Unlike most cases, you don't grab onto Seungcheol's shirt or even cling to his powerful shoulder blades. Instead, you grip onto the long pink strands of hair on the back of his neck. 

His head jerks back with a deep groan echoing in his throat before he buries into the crook of your neck. Biting as he also buries his cock deep within in your sweet cunt, hitting that spot only he is able to reach every single time. 

"Knew you had a thing for hair pulling." 

"If you're able to talk nonsense," he sits back, holding your hips harsh enough to bruise. "must not be fucking you hard enough, again." 

He says, "Sorry, baby," dripping in a copious amount of pathetic degradation that you clench so hard around him like a vice. Seungcheol chokes. But when you start to moan non-stop, he smiles like a victor. 

"Could fuck this tiny pussy so many times but it never loosens up. Gotta relax for me or I won't be able to fill you up properly." 

The bastard isn't helping much, the dirty talk and desperate need to be bred only making your head spin more. Legs wrap around his waist to pull him in even as your pussy threatens to push him out. 

Seungcheol falls silent himself, too entranced by the creamy ring forming around his cock where your bodies connect. 

Promises of filling you up finally fall from his mouth as he nears his peak. Whispers of "mine" and "yours" he thinks you can't hear in your state but you always do. Reminiscing over them when you're alone at night. 

But that's not what matters at this moment as white noise fills your ears, almost blanking out as another incredible orgasm rocks your entire body. Seungcheol's release hits right as yours finishes, pelvis pressing close against yours to make sure you take every single drop as promised. 

He hates to even move away. But a couple shallow thrusts are enough to satiate his need to ensure your sweet pussy won't waste even a little bit until you whine from the oversensitivity. 

The urge to kiss your forehead is strong as you come down from your high. Instead, he simply stares at you with starry eyes in the vulnerable moment. 

One day, Seungcheol convinces himself that he'll be brave enough to utter what traitorously rings through his heart and entire being when he's with you. He's sure it's not the after-nut feelings but maybe it's best to wait until he's not balls-deep inside, too blissed and fucked out that he accidentally blurts it aloud. 

Perhaps he will when he gives you the collar and leash, a diamond-encrusted heart with his initials on the front and yours on the back. Tilting his head, he still isn't sure if pink, black, or red suit you best because you're too perfect. 

Maybe he'll consider white? Totally not a thought influenced by the gorgeous stains coating your most intimate parts and inner thighs. 

Definitely not. 

taglist:

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onlyseokmins: January 2023 ©

[luvv4j4ybe11]

What kink do you think loak, neteyam and jake would have?

I’m pretty sure I included smth about this when I posted the “how he treats you” headcanons, but I’ll write it again anyway js for u nonnie💕

Warnings~ p in v, corruption kink, breeding kink, size kink, Dacryphilla, exhibitionism, blindfold kink, breath play, begging, orgasm control, overstimulation, edging, wax play, masochism, biting kink(we all know who tf this belongs to), somnophilla, tempature play, oral fixation, daddy kink, and I think that’s it. Lmk if I missed anything, and enjoy<3

Dividers by: @anitalenia & @princessantisocial & @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Lo’ak definitely has a….

Courrption kink, size kink, blindfold kink, scent kink, breeding kink, oral fixation, wax play kink, pain kink(masochism), begging kink, praise kink, daddy kink, biting kink and a breath play kink.

☆ whenever you give him head, he’ll always push you head down on him untill your basically choking on his cock, and then he’ll pull you back up and give you air. He js finds it so cute seeing you all out of breath with tears and drool streaming down your face, but even being exhausted you’re still eagerly trying to get his girthy cock back in your mouth.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you mamas? Don’t know what to do without my cock in your mouth? Hm, that’s what I thought..”

☆ Whenever he has you in mating press(or any position for that matter) he’s always rambling about “how good of a mom” you’d be and how you’d “look so gorgeous stuffed all full of my babies.” It drives you insane(in the best of ways). When he finally does cum inside of you though, the most guttural growl leaves him, effortlessly making your pussy flutter around him from the absolute feral noise that just came out of your handsome mate.

☆ loves to praise and loves being praised, it just makes him feel good knowing how good you make him feel/how good your doing for him/ so on and so forth. When you praise him tho? Expect this mf to be on his knees in a second for you and if you praise him in public too he gets so flustered; his tail will stand straight up and away like crazy, his ears will stand straight up and turn a dark purple along with his cheeks and neck. It’s adorable honestly

✩ has such a huge corruption kink, especially if this is your first relationship with someone else + you’ve never had sex/intimate experiences with anyone else. He’ll always tell you/show you knew things (that are of sexual nature) knowing you’ll get curious and want to try it with him, and then get addicted to how good it feels, not even nothing to do it by yourself because it wasn’t him touching you. He also lovess how sensitive you are, the way your breath hitches and you cling to him whenever he lightly brushes over your nipples with his hand while he kisses you slowly always makes him feral

☆ loves the size difference between you two, and will make it clear too. Saying things like,“look at how well this tiny cunt is taking me, she’s basically drooling all over my cock, mamas,” and sooo much more nasty things that make that pressure in your stomach get more intense, you can’t help but cum all over his dick:(

☆ talking more about this⬆️ tho, if you just do something sublet like placing a hand on his bicep or holding his hand, everything about his demeanor will change; his breathing will grow more shallow, his eyes will get more hooded, and his tail will perk up and start swaying around in a way that alr tells you wtf he’s thinkin about.

☆ has such an oral fixation, like he just loves the feeling of your soft, squishy flesh in his mouth. No matter if it’s your fingers, thighs, tits, or hips, he just loves it. And just to make you squirm he’ll lightly trace his fangs on your skin, wait for your reaction, and then bite tf outta you bc he’s mean like that

☆ loves your smell so much, he’ll come up behind you and hug you firmly while smooshing his face into the crook of your neck, or he’ll just pick you up and burry his head into your chest.

☆ you asked him one time if you wanted to try something new, and ofc he said yes, but he didn’t know it’d end up with him breathless,blindfolded, and completely overstimulated by your relentless strokes on his sensitive cock. But he loved it regardless, and he realized he had a thing for being blindfolded.

☆ the first time he realized he had a daddy kink was when you accidentally let it slip one time when he had you on your hands and knees,pounding into your sore pussy relentlessly as he had you in a headlock to give him more leverage, and as soon as he heard that little “daddy..please don’t stop” slip, he was GONEEEE. He ran with it 100% a cocky grin on his face as he increased his pace to a downright brutal one, egging your fucked out brain on even more by saying, “yeah? I won’t, mama, don’t worry. Daddy’s gonna make this pussy squirt real nice before I fill her up. Want that, sweet girl? Want daddy to cum inside this pretty pussy?…mhm, I figured.”

☆ once you give him the ok, he’ll 100% fuck you while you sleep. Mf doesn’t care if you’re on your period or not, he’ll just fuck your thighs or just fuck you like he always does. He does not care😭

Neteyam definitely has a….

CORRUPTION KINK, exhibitionism, overstimulation kink, orgasm control kink, Dacryphilla, degradation, praise, breeding kink, size kink/difference, overstimulation, edging, somnophilla, and a tempature play kink.

☆ has such a bad corruption kink, especially if you were his bsf before you two started dating, because the second you told him you basically have no clue when it comes to anything sexual and intimate, he was alr plotting to make you his personal slut that was once so innocent.

☆ lowkey a perv on the DL, like mf will let his hands roam all around your body while telling you how soft and pretty you are, knowing that the more he talks, the more sensitive you get.

☆ finds it so cute when you try to fit his cock into your mouth/pussy, even though it’s too big and you aren’t stretched out enough yet, you still try because you wanna be a good girl for him:( he’ll just sit and watch you with the meanest smirk on his face while he guides your actions, saying things like “who would’ve thought such an innocent girl like you could be such a greedy little whore? Even this pretty pussy is trying so hard to swallow me whole, she’s drooling on me,” while you push more of your cunt down onto him as tears of frustration and pain run down your face:((

☆ loves to overstimulate and edge you with your toys, and he’ll say the meanest things to you while he does;( (But of course he’ll always let you know he didn’t really mean it when he cleans you up.) and if you start to cry because of the overstimulation and his words, he won’t care. He’ll stop until he feels you’ve learned your lesson.

“What a pathetic little thing. You could barely hold out for two days without me? Had to go and disobey me because this pussy is just too greedy..what a shame.”

☆ will always stuff you full with his cum after every round, promising to get you full with his babies no matter what

☆ insist on fucking you in public because he catches WAY too many men staring at you in a way he doesn’t like. So he’ll pull you into a clearing that isn’t too far from where everyone else is and fuck you senseless, and he’ll make sure to pin your hands behind your back/above your head so you’re forced to be loud. And once you two are done he’ll make sure none of his cum slips out of you, so you’re forced to walk around with his cum soaking down your loincloth so much it drips down your thighs:(

☆ always throws your weight around like nothing and to him, it is. He’s so much more bigger and stronger than you and it shows;he’s always manhandling you into the positions he wants you in while he uses your small body as a flesh light on his girthy cock.

☆ if you brought up the idea of somnophilla, he’d definitely try it since you suggested it, and phew lawd did he get addicted to the way you would react to him even when you’re sleeping

☆ lovesss tempature play sm, seeing the way your nipples harden and skin gets covered in goosebumps whenever he rubs an ice cub against your skin, and the way you shudder when he slips the ice cube inside of you will never fail to make him crazy

Jake definitely has a…..

Daddy kink, breeding kink, praise kink, overstimulation, orgasm control, size kink/difference, biting kink, Dacryphilla, oral fixation, and impact play

☆ this man has SUCHHHHH a daddy kink, he just loves the way it sounds coming off of your tongue

☆ also loves how paethitc you sound when you beg for him, it almost all the time makes him give into whatever you’re begging him for.

☆ no surprise that this man has a breeding kink too, he just can’t help the image of you all swollen and full with his child plagues his mind whenever he’s deep inside of you, ultimately ending with him cumming deep inside your fertile womb:(

☆loves praising you while he has you in missionary or when you give him head, but even still he loves to praise you. He needs to let his girl how good she’s being for him.

☆ overstimulates and spanks you as punishment, and he’s so cruel about it too, not even bothering to stop after you beg him to because he knows how much you really enjoy it from how much your pussy leaks whenever his hand touches your bruised skin.

☆ will never get over the size difference between you two, it finds it so hot and makes it so obvious that he does. And when he finds out that you also think the size difference between you two is attractive? Lawdy I hope youre ready for your relationship to become alot more touching and teasy (is that a word?). mf will come up behind you and wrap his burly arms around your curves and ask you how you’re doing as if he can’t smell how wet you are from him pressing his strong, big body against your soft, curvy one.

☆ has such a biting/marking kink, it’s bad. No matter what position he has you in he’s sinking his teeth into you, the lapping up whatever blood comes out of it eagerly as he moves over to the next spot he wants to mark.

☆ he always blames it on the fact that you’re too pretty, and that the men in the clan don’t care if you say you’re mated or not. So of course he has to cover you in marks, his scent, and stuff your pussy so full with his cum it soaks your loincloth.

☆ has an oral fixation too, so whenever he eats you out he’s SLOPPYYYY asf wit it, but also slow and sensitive about all of your sweet spots

☆ the first time you cried when he was fucking you he stopped everything and asked if you were ok, but when you told him it was because he feels that good, he almost aims to make you cry every time you guys have sex (and he’s successful in doing so)

A/N~ this took WAY too long oh my fucking god! But it’s done, and I hope you enjoyed it nonnie<3 I hope you guys stay safe and stay hydrated, mwah ilysm

Duces🫶🏽,

luvv4j4ybe11

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[malarign]

physical

(enhypen as different forms of physical intimacy)

contains: bf!ot7 x gn!reader | genre: pure fluff | tw! kissing, thunderstorms, mild crying, mentions of food and eating (lmk if i forgot smth!) | wc: 1,9k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: Heeseung’s scenario is literally inspired by how i passed one of my courses :’) enjoy!

Lee Heeseung | 이희승

➶ patting your head after you accomplish a hard task *ೃ༄

Heeseung watched as you typed really fast on your computer, finishing up your task. This course was supposed to take something about 3 hours to complete, yet here you were an hour before the deadline stressing your ass out since you completely forgot about it.

You felt like sweat flooded your whole body, heart rate higher than while running a marathon. A few tears formed in the corner of your eye, which were quickly wiped out by your boyfriend.

“Love, maybe I can help you somehow?” he asked carefully for the last time, but you shook your head in a decisive motion.

“Hee, it’s fine I think I’ll manage to hand it in before midnight,” you spoke a little bit incoherently, gaze focusing on a bright screen. “I just need silence, sorry,” you spoke softly, not wanting to sound rude.

Heeseung silently nodded in understanding. He went to the kitchen to make something warm for you to eat, knowing well how hungry you get after such stress. He perked his ears for any kind of reaction for you, but the only one he heard was a scream of satisfaction, a minute before midnight.

“I did it!” you screamed in pure joy, raising your hands in the air.

Heeseung rushed to you and seeing a proud expression on your face he gently patted your head.

“I knew you could do it,” he praised your determination to finish it, even though it wasn’t really a mandatory course. “Now eat, love. You must be hungry.”

Park Jongseong | 박종성

➶ kissing a forehead when you’re scared *ೃ༄

Lighting illuminated your room once again and you waited muffling your ears for a loud sound of thunder. When it came you flinched, as tears started flooding your eyes.

You took your phone and after hesitating for a while you finally texted your boyfriend.

You watched the screen for a few minutes when yet another lighting stroke that was soon followed by thunder. Your lip quivered and soon your face was wet from your salty tears.

Your relationship with Jay started not long ago, so he still lived in obliviousness to your terrible fear of thunderstorms. You looked at the time, thinking he must already be asleep since he’s quite an early sleeper. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case with you, especially during nights like this one.

After a few more strikes the thunderstorm seemed to get harder. Soon a doorbell resounded in the hallway, adding to your stress. You mustered the courage to open the door and the sight didn’t disappoint you. Without thinking for even a second you were pulled into the familiar embrace of your boyfriend. He rubbed your back comfortingly, realizing the course of your fear.

“I’m sorry for taking so long. I should’ve replied but I didn’t want to text while driving,” he explained in a quiet voice that soothed your anxiety.

“It’s okay,” you managed to say. “Sorry for disturbing your sleep at this hour.” You looked up at him and he smiled lovingly.

“Don’t apologize, that’s my basic boyfriend duty, to keep you safe.” His words made you let out a breathy giggle.

When another thunder resounded, he brought you closer to him and planted a tender kiss on your forehead, helping you forget about the scary noise.

Sim Jaeyun | 심재윤

➶ brushing his thumb on your cheek while cuddling *ೃ༄

“Are you done?” Jake whined leaning on the bathroom doorframe while you were finishing your skincare routine.

Smiling at his cuteness you said: “Let me brush my teeth and I’ll be ready.”

He smiled brightly and skipped his way to the bedroom.

Today you decided to finally go to sleep a tad bit earlier than usual. Your internal clock to messed up by sudden work, while his schedule didn’t help him get enough sleep, making you tired every minute of every day. You looked at your phone just to see the hour: 8:45. You made your way to your bedroom where you found Jake already under the covers, leaning at the headboard.

“Honestly I can’t remember when was the last time I went to bed this early,” you confessed while laying on your side of the bed.

“Me neither,” he responded and laid down facing you.

Only your head peaked from under the bedsheets, both of them decorated with blissful smiles. Suddenly he reached with his hand to your cheek and brushed your skin with his thumb gently. You closed your eyes at his loving touch, which instantly made you sleepy. He brought to even closer to his body, not leaving room for a grain of sand so you could feel his hot breath hit your skin.

“If you’ll continue doing that I might fall asleep a lot faster than I expected,” you mumbled easefully.

“Then sleep my love,” Jake said and planted sweet kisses on your eyelids, helping you doze off immediately.

Park Sunghoon | 박성훈

➶ carrying you to bed after you fell asleep on the couch *ೃ༄

Since promotions were finally over, Sunghoon along with his bandmates and staff members celebrated yet another successful comeback. Not realizing how late it got he stayed up until early morning talking and chitchatting with everybody involved in album making. But when he did realize you must already be sleeping he thanked everybody and called a taxi to go home.

When he arrived, the apartment was completely dark, with no lights turned on. He smiled, thinking you must’ve been really tired. And he didn’t blame you: even he couldn’t believe how much time he spent with his friends. He took a quick shower and did his whole night routine only to go to your shared bedroom and find an empty bed. His brows knitted together in a frown.

Did you go out? No, he would have remembered that. He quickly checked his phone to see if he missed out on any of your messages but found none.

Getting slightly nervous he sprinted out of your bedroom to search for you. Just when he was about to put his shoes on he noticed how some silhouette was laying down on your living room’s couch. He slowly made his way to what he was about to find out your form, sleeping peacefully, already in your pajamas.

He smiled at his overreaction and also at how cute you looked right now. Without thinking any further he carefully took you in his arms and carried you to your bed.

Throughout him carrying you, you kept on sleeping peacefully but once he put you down you aroused you whispered with a hoarse voice: “Sunghoon?”

“Yes, it’s me. Sleep well, princess.”

Kim Sunoo | 김선우

➶ tucking your hair behind your ear after a kiss *ೃ༄

You walked hand in hand with Sunoo to the third cafe today. Your schoolwork and his tight schedule didn’t let you do your long-awaited cafe hopping.

“Which one is next?” you asked and swung your hands back and forwards.

Sunoo took his phone and searched for your next destination. Soon he responded: “The one with wools and stuff.”

You looked at him with a sweeping head motion, which made him match your energy, but in a little bit more dramatic way.

“You know, we will never leave that place, maybe we should go somewhere else first?” you suggested, reminding him of your new obsession - crocheting.

“I know,” he simply said and motioned with his head to continue walking.

The place consisted of two levels, one with a regular coffee bar and some tables and upstairs was where all the wools and hooks were stored. You had to contain a squeal of excitement at the view of all the different shades and colors you couldn’t get, even on the Internet.

While you were picking all the things you needed Sunoo ordered you some beverages and desserts. You showed him some stitches and patterns you could teach him and you got to the work.

Focusing on your and his work you sipped on your coffee and didn’t realize the foam stayed on your upper lip. Noticing that Sunoo smiled and quickly cupped our cheek to steal a sweet kiss, tasting like a mix of coffee and cheesecake he’s been eating. Leaving you dumbfounded he kept his eyes fixated on yours, his hand reaching to the lone strand of your hair and tucking it behind your ear, just to go back to crocheting his work, like nothing happened.

Yang Jungwon | 양정원

➶ listening to each other’s heartbeat after a long day *ೃ༄

Both you and Jungwon plopped on your couch wordlessly. It was yet another day filled with lots of stress, anxiety, and dealing with other people not only for him but also for you. You took deep breaths and you could swear you would sleep here and now, but in the corner of your eye, you noticed your boyfriend spreading his arms for you to hug him. Chuckling at his cute gesture you crawled your way towards him and pushed him with your body weight to lay down. You placed your head on his chest that raised and fell rapidly because of his giggle.

“I guess your day was just as tiring and simply bad as mine, huh?” he asked, breaking the silence that surrounded you the moment you entered your apartment.

“Probably, yeah,” you answered shortly feeling dozing off taking control over your body and mind.

You relaxed in his comfortable embrace, the constant rhythm of his heartbeat helping your eyelids to close.

“As much as I know how tired we both are, I think we should go and shower first, Y/nie,” Jungwon spoke with his eyes closed, a feeling of bliss and serenity soothing his mind.

“I know,” you said, dragging out the last word. You tried to stand up but the sound of his heartbeat seemed to have hypnotized you, or even hook you on.

Jungwon sighed, noticing you truly fell asleep. Deciding not to wake you up he stayed in one position a little longer, eventually falling asleep too.

Nishimura Riki | 西村力

➶ holding your hand tightly on a rollercoaster ride *ೃ༄

You sat down after yet another extreme rollercoaster ride, wanting nothing but some moment to take a deep breath and calm down. But your boyfriend Riki had another plan, wanting to keep your adrenaline level as high as possible for the rest of your date at an amusement park. He grabbed your hand firmly and pulled you along towards another ride. Whining you waddled behind him, but he kept on shushing you. He knew damn well you weren’t scared of them, that’s why he insisted on trying as many as you could during this night.

“Come on, Y/nie, before the queue gets longer!” he rushed you. You just speeded along, taking your place in the line.

Riki watched the ride with the brightest stars in his eyes, you could see his inner child healing just by the sight and thought of having fun with you. You leaned your head on his shoulder making him look at you. He smiled t your cute action and planted a chaste yet quite long kiss on the crown of your head.

As your turn was closer and closer you felt even more excited for the fun ahead of you, but also knew your tiredness wouldn’t let you go on another attraction. Riki somehow sensed that.

“How about we grab some hot dogs after this ride?” he suggested to which you nodded your head happily.

“Are you ready?” the operator of the ride asked you and motioned you to take a seat in the front row. Before you noticed you were on top of the construction waiting for the big drop. Riki took your hand and entangled your fingers together. When you started he raised his and your hand on the way, to feel the wind and the speed. You could hear his laughter and screams of joy which filled your ears. You also screamed your lungs out at the turn and barrels you made. Wordlessly you arrived at the starting point yet none of you wanted to leave the carrier. Or each other’s hands.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

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[multifariousqueer]

Miles cheating fic pt.2

Request: Ok here’s my request and it’s not smut so don’t worry lol.

What if like Yn tried sneaking into Mike’s room with some good news or smth and she catches him doing the deed with another girl so she decides to leave and then he’s blowing up her phone but she cuts him off. Idk just angst angst and more angst lol

A/n: AHHHH ENJOY Y’ALL. I wanted to make this story a bit different so lmk if you like it❤️

Warnings: cheating, toxicity, mentions of alcohol and knives, Miles being annoying, lmk if I missed one

“no” you said simply, running to the kitchen to grab a knife to get Thomas down and to defend yourself against Miles

“Listen, I’m so sorry and I know that doesn’t change anything” he started

“no it doesn’t. Listen, I’m giving you three minutes to get the hell out of my home. What is wrong with you, seriously? Have you been stalking me?” you asked rhetorically because you knew Miles had been

Miles would stalk you all the time, mostly for safety and to make sure you were happy but ever since the breakup, he had been stalking you to see where you would be and to see when he could quietly slip into your life again. When he realized you were 1000% done with him and had a new boyfriend, he realized it was now or never and he was already out on patrol. You had been packing stuff up and getting ready to leave and Miles would quietly watch you through your window and sometimes, when you weren’t home, he would come into your apartment and walk around taking in the very essence of you that he missed so dearly.

You had consumed Miles’ thoughts and dreams and he knew he couldn’t just let you leave without saying goodbye, right? Even though he got into your dream school and had every intention of going so he could stalk you more and make sure you were still safe(and available). 

“Hermosa, I love you way more than this guy and I mean, he couldn’t even fight back so what does that tell you about him?” Miles chuckled dryly 

“I DON’T CARE! GET OUT BEFORE I CALL THE POLICE” you shouted, waving your knife at Miles as he walked over to you

“Call them, I’d love to say hi to my dad. And stalking is a bit of a stretch, more like watching you from afar” he said

“that’s stalking cabròn”you said

“I never thought you’d call me that. I gotta say, it hurts” he said, putting a hand on his chest

“What do you want?” you asked, already knowing

“you, mami. I miss you so much and I haven’t been the same since you” Miles confessed

“Where’s your blanca? I thought you were happier with her” you said, tears in your eyes and Miles was hovering above your face

“She wasn’t you and she’ll never be you, y/n. I love you and only you and if I could go back in time and fix it, I would in a heartbeat.” he said

“hm. Well I’ve moved on and I have a boyfriend and I got into (your dream school) so I guess we won’t see each other anyways” you said

“Oh wow! This is a wonderful time to mention that I got in there too!” he smiled brightly, disregarding the boyfriend thing

You wanted to sob right there. Miles was a bit of a better student than you and he could get into your dream school without even trying and that’s what pissed you off. You had to struggle while Miles got off Scott free and still got to be Spider-Man. On top of that, the feeling that you would never get rid of Miles, no matter how much you tried ate away at you in that moment.

“You’re lying” you said, knowing it was true

Miles pulled out the letter and smirked at you

“see you there mami. And as for your cabron, that isn’t going away for another 6 hours, that’s your formula” Miles said, walking past you to your window

You had designed some web fluid for Miles and you weren’t shocked he was still using it, I mean you are a fantastic engineer when it comes to Spider-Man stuff.

You walked over to Thomas and he made a joke:

“I should’ve just went home” you both chuckled

You had hugged your parents goodbye as they left you alone in your dorm. You had dreamed of this moment since you were eleven and now that it was happening, it brought tears to your eyes. You met your roommate and went to greet some of your classmates. 

When Monday came, you sat next to a cool girl and made conversation:

“I love your bag, Marc Jacobs?” you asked

“yeah, your shoes are so cute.” she said

“Thanks. I’m Y/n” you said, holding out your hand

“I’m Mia” she said shaking your hand

You two spoke a bit more before someone interrupted your conversation:

“Is this seat taken?” you immediately recognized the voice and placed it as Miles’

“oh no!” Mia spoke

He put his books down and gave you a smug look. You scoffed and class had started. 

The class was relatively easy since it was one most people were required to take, its just nothing was ever easy when Miles was there. He kept proposing study dates or just hangouts and you always declined but he asked in front of your new friends this time so you couldn’t just say no without them thinking something was wrong. So, you accepted and offered for your other friends to come which they happily accepted. Miles let out a bit of a sigh and gave you an expressionless look but you could tell he wasn’t thrilled

Eventually, he became apart of your group because he was nerdy and cute so people really liked him. He kept trying to get you alone with you to talk but you never allowed it, instead you surrounded yourself with people and made sure to lock your windows. Whenever your roommate questioned it, you would say:

“I don’t want any spiders to get in” 

She would always agree and y’all would go back to doing what you were previously doing

Y’all got invited to a party and you all met up at your dorm. Most of y’all crowding around your sink and doing your makeup while the guys sat on your bed and read some of your books and looked at their phones.

When you emerged from the bathroom in your dress and makeup, Miles gave you a slacked jawed look and his eyes lit up. You walked over to him in your heels and closed his mouth for him before walking out the door

The rest of the girls got ready and y’all left your dorm and took some alcohol with incase it wasn’t good at the party

All eyes appeared on you when you walked in, your girls leading you to the dancefloor where they danced on you and you danced back. You felt a sense of Euphoria and ecstasy as you swayed to the music with a red solo cup in your hand as you smiled. Most of your group split up and it was just you and Mia dancing together. You went to fill your cup when you saw Miles already there

“hey, y/n” he said

“oh hey” you smiled, being friendly and a bit jaded

“you enjoying this?” giving you a “really?” look

“mmm yeah. Well I gotta go, I hear my song” you said, rushing back to the dance floor and twerking on your friend

Miles had a bit of a somber expression until a girl started talking to him and asked him to dance with her. At first, he was gonna reject but he saw how happy you were and he decided to try to make you jealous.

She twerked on Miles and he didn’t know what to do at first until he got in his groove. He still watched you intently until the girl came up and grabbed him before turning around and trying to kiss him. She kissed him and he reciprocated, pretending it was you. 

You saw this from across the room and you decided to have some fun. You walked over to them and whispered in the girl’s ear:

“careful, he might cheat on you” 

Miles decided he had enough and grabbed you by the arm, dragging you outside, you remembered how strong he was and you knew this was gonna leave a bruise

“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?” he asked

“just tryna make sure she dodges a bullet” you smirked, almost laughing

“Are you drunk?” he asked

“no, im just done with your shit” you said before trying to walk away but he cursed at you

“Ven aqui, mami” 

“I’m not your mami, i’m not your hermosa, i’m not yours, miles.” you said, sternly

“Haven’t I apologized enough? Can we just kiss or fuck and make up? I’m sorry, I still love you and I’m willing to do anything to fix us” he pleaded, sensing your sudden sobriety

“There is no more us Miles. I told you from jump that cheating was the one thing I couldn’t forgive. Let me go before someone sees us.” you said

He let you go as you strutted back in the party and went back to dancing, knowing you weren’t going back.

[cur-sedd]

𝘌𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘵 ♡ 𐐪𐑂 °

here is a late christmas present. uhm ngl i was half alive writing this so if it doesnt make sense im sorry ㅠㅠ uhmm! yeah i tried smth new with the whole getting eaten out and fingering shit saurr bare with me 😭 idk if i wanna do vampire!txt or some soobie smut next rahh. i'll figure it out. MDNI!! NSFW content below ╰┈➤ hard dom (?) hyuka x fem!reader, hair tugging, getting eaten out-ovbi, fingering (bc i have an obsession), hints at over stimulation, begging, edging, not proof read, i think thats it, lmk if i missed anything

You gripped Hyuka’s hair as he made laps on your cunt. His perfect nose, stimulating your clit in ways you couldn't do yourself. You legs shook as you felt another orgasm make its way. You whine softly, pulling his hair more. Once you did so, Hyuka pulled his head back. “Baby, i told you to stop pulling my hair.” His voice echoed through the heated room as you huffed slightly. Great. Its been the third time Kai has done this to you. Its not your fault you cant keep your hands to yourself. You took your legs off of your boyfriend’s shoulders with a small click of your tongue. Kai continued to hold your legs up, admiring the mess he has made out of you.

You let out a sigh opening you mouth to counter back only for strings of curses to come right out. Hyuka harshly pumped his fingers in and out of your swollen cunt as you cried out. Your body shook slightly as you bit your lower lip, trying to stifle those angelic sounds “Let it out baby or i’ll stop.” Kai spat out softly, His hands started to slow down so you quickly spoke, brows pinched up slightly. “No- no please dont- mmph, dont stop.” You mumbled. A small smirk appeared on Hyuka's lips. It was strange how deceiving he was. Its like he has two different sides. He is so sweet, affectionate with you when he is around others. Going as far to play with your clothes, even pepper small kisses on your neck. But when he is the one begging you to go home with him because he got hard and needs you to satisfy him, he just completely switches up! Manhandling you, turning and throwing you around when he wants. Holding your arm up when he fucks you senseless.

The pace of Kai’s fingers only went quicker the louder you moaned. Your back arched as you jumbled your words of  “right there” “so good” and “gonna cum” along with a bunch of curses. You moved your body back slightly but Hyuka quickly pulled you back onto his fingers. “ ‘s too much baby-” You grunted softly, squeezing your eyes shut as he went at an unforgiving pace. You could barely even speak at this point with the amount of pleasure and overstimulation literally ruining you. Kai didnt respond to your words as he abused your cunt. You went from cursing to begging him to let you cum just once more like you didnt cum a few moments ago. And finally, he agreed. You slowly came down from your high as you chested heaved in and out heavily. Your shirt lifted right about your breasts from Kai’s earlier teasing. Suddenly, you felt a warm tongue clean you up at your core. You slowly shook your head with a slight furrow to your brows, giving Kai a playful glare. “Mm? It was only prep anyways baby! We haven't even started yet.” Kai chuckled softly, lifting his head from in between your legs, flashing his iconic smile.

Were you tired? Hell yes, but where you gonna stop him from making you feel so right? Nuh uh. He needed you so bad, and he knows you need him too. ૮₍˶ •. • ⑅₎ა

a/n: this was inspired by the answer the one and only @dearlyjun (sorry for the tag 😭) gave me when i sent her an ask a bit ago so hope yall like it 💞

[elliereject]

ifhy .2

* in which ellie’s obsession relationship with you begins to sour as your romance with your new boyfriend seems to flourish. it seems she’ll stop at nothing to ensure your happiness, (which you’ll find with her, obviously) even if it means hurting you in the process.

* lowkey obsessive ellie, ellie beats someone up, angst + comfort (next chapter(s), infidelity, unrequited feelings yet also mutual pining (just read it like, idk idk I forgot how to do these),lmk if I missed anything!

* HELLLLLOOOO!? oh my god 100 likes on part 1 and over 100 followers??? ty? so much?? <3 the next parts almost done so I gotta tweak some things but I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! I meant to post this like 2 days ago but I fell asleep editing…

* mdni

* wc ~ smth like 1.8k

pt .1 here ★ pt .3 coming soon

“Are you seriously wearing that?” You sighed, flopping back on Ellie’s twin bed.

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Ellie asked, eyeing her worn skinny jeans and a black oversized hoodie.

“First, there’s a hole in the side of your hood. Second, you wore that 3 times this week already.”

“No, I didn’t. These are different jeans!”

You groaned, “Ellie it’s a party, live a little.”

She let out a small laugh, “Says you, you were literally on the verge of throwing up like 5 minutes ago. Did whatshisname text you?”

She crossed her fingers in hope that he hadn’t.

You rolled your eyes, “You know his name, and he said he got there about 20 minutes ago and’ll meet me near the living room.”

“Cool, cool.” She said stiffly. “We should probably get going then.”

You jumped up from the bed, practically skipping over to the door. “Finally, you take a surprisingly long time to get ready.”

She didn’t. She was just trying to drag out the amount of time she had before she saw you clinging to your boyfriend and laughing at his stupid jokes.

She was still trying to find a way to show you that he was a dick and she was what you needed but all the ideas she had ended up with him dead and while she was considering it, you probably would have a hard time forgiving her.

The two of you trekked down to the elevator and while your back was turned she couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to slip her hand into yours. How would you react? Would you recoil? Or would you squeeze her palm? Ellie was never really a touchy person yet she made some exceptions when it came to you, however nothing as intimate as hand holding.

And something screamed at her, begging her to try. Her fingers itched by her leg and before she knew it she was stretching out her arm.

Close…so close she could feel the warmth radiating off you.

In a moment you whipped around and she didn’t have enough time to retract her hand.

“What are you doing?” You asked, tilting your head in a way that made her heart ache.

“You just had a uh– a piece of lint.” She lied easily as she picked nothing off your sleeve.

“Oh, thanks! Easier to get rid of then a hole, huh?” You let out a giggle and stuck your finger through said hole, she forced a laugh.

The rest of the ride down Ellie urged herself not to have any more daring thoughts.

Once down, you cracked jokes about your professor and weirdos in your classes, and Ellie tried her best to laugh along, all the way to the frat where the party was being held. Once you made it, you shoved past the sweaty bodies in the living room to look for your boyfriend whilst Ellie shrunk into the kitchen to confide chat with Jesse who was busy chugging a twisted lemonade.

“Jesse. I want you to thank God you aren’t a lesbian.” Ellie groaned, pulling the drink from his lips and taking a swig herself.

“Shit. What happened now?” He sighed, reaching past Ellie to grab another. Ellie’s been moping about you to Jesse for a while now, although he doesn’t really know it’s you because she doesn’t wanna fuck up the way her friends view your guys’ relationship.

“I was walking behind her earlier before we got into the elevat— classroom. And I was like 5 seconds away from grabbing her hand.”

“And why’s that a bad thing? I thought you liked her.” He asked in between sips.

“Because she has a fucking boyfriend! And that would’ve been so embarrassing I think I would’ve bit off my tongue and killed my self right there.”

Jesse let out a low whistle and Ellie crossed her arms. “Don’t you have any advice for me, or are you just gonna stand there?”

The man shrugged, “You’re not gonna like what I have to tell you. Have you tried talking to Joel about any of this?”

Ellie shook her head with a sigh, “He’s busy with work as is, I don’t wanna bother him with this shit when I barely even get to talk to him.”

“Well then, you should prob—hey! ★ what’s up?”

Their conversation was cut short as you walked into the crowded kitchen. With no luck in the living room, you decided to retreat there to talk with your friends while periodically checking your phone for any missed calls or texts.

Ellie noticed the worried look on your face. “Hey, hey. He’ll call. And if he doesn’t he’s a fucking idiot.”

She urged you to try and live in the moment and reassured you again that’d he’d call soon, even though she hoped and prayed he didn’t.

You gave her a small smile and muttered “I guess.” Before taking the red solo cup she offered you and downing it. Eventually, Dina joined your little trio and you temporarily forgot all about him since you were having so much fun chatting with your friends.

Ellie, still smiling, excused herself to the washroom after announcing she had to piss and thank god she did because the scene she stumbled upon literally made her laugh with joy. She had been looking for a reason to beat the fuck out of your boyfriend and did she find it.

After mistaking one of the bedrooms for the washroom—since every fucking door in that house looked the same—her eyes immediately landed on the familiar lanky figure who was shacking up with some tiny brunette bitch.

“No fucking way!” She guffawed, completely amused.

“Please, it’s not—“ Your boyfriend started, pulling his lips from the girl and straightening out his shirt.

“I’ve been looking for a reason to beat your sorry ass! This is just perfect.” She laughed manically as she stomped into the room, slamming the door behind her and cracking her knuckles.

The girl he was previously with was shaken to her core, and practically sprinted out of there. Before he could get out another word, Ellie’s fist was already crushing his face.

“You dick, God I knew you were an asshole but this is just—wow! Cheating on her when she is most definitely the best you could ever do?” Another punch and he was on the ground.

Blood was leaking from his nose and his lip was split. Suddenly she was on top of him, her fists flying. His glasses were broken and tears ran down his face pathetically.

She’d bottled up her emotions for so long; her love for you, her jealousy towards him, her anger at the entire situation, that it all muddled together and bursted the bottle, sending shards everywhere.

Ellie has always been an innately intense person, but this, pummelling something that deserved it, someone that she’d been fantasizing about beating the shit out of ever since she’d met them. It felt good.

“Pl-please stop.” He begged, and she halted her fists, but only for a moment.

She scoffed. “Stop? Stop. Man, I should rip your tongue out. Maybe that’ll finally shut you up.”

His eyes widened as he scanned her eyes for any sign of sympathy, of mercy, but all he found was icy green.

“You’re fucking crazy!” He shouted, trying and failing to shimmy her off him.

She shrugged, “Maybe.”

She was about to throw another fist but she heard frantic footsteps speeding toward the room.

“Shit..” She tapped the side of the guy’s face harshly as he was beginning to black out. “Listen, you’re going to get up. Hop out the window and take your ass home, if someone asks what happened say you got jumped. You’re not going to look at ★ again, text her, call, or even breathe near her. Transfer out of her classes and if I even get the idea that you’re thinking of contacting her again, I will find you. And I will rip your tongue out, got it?”

He nodded wildly and she finally got off of him. She watched as he scurried toward the window and hopped out, it was only a few feet, he’d live.

Ellie wiped her stained hands on the inside of her sweater and opened the door just as the brunette from before was about to, she was standing next to one of the frat guys.

“What’s going on?” Ellie said easily, putting a charming smile on her face and hiding her hands in her pocket.

“Where is he?” The brunette asked worriedly.

“Who? It’s just me in here.” Ellie said looking around confused.

The frat boy looked behind Ellie and them at the girl before sighing and turning back around, “Don’t bother me again. Just enjoy the party.”

“B-but—“ She immediately shut up when Ellie shot her a malicious glare.

She strolled out of the room and back toward the main floor to see you sulking on the couch, checking your phone.

“What happened?” She asked, sliding next to you and resting her arm behind you on the cushions.

“He still hasn’t answered.” You pouted.

And for the first time in months she shot you a genuine smile, despite the fact you were talking about him. “I wouldn’t worry about it, don’t think you’ll hear from him anytime soon.”

You smiled at her and she shot you a weird look, “What?” she asked.

“Nothing..you just seem a little happier than usual.” You said, leaning into her arm.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

tagz ଳ (send me a message to be added!)

@bready101

[nininikki]

𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑: k. nanami x fem black!reader

ʚ summary! ɞ — when an enigmatic, enchantingly handsome man pays for an hour of your services, you find yourself uncharacteristically allured.

ʚ warnings! ɞ — god where do i start, uh nsfw, smut! sex work (reader is a stripper), mentions of pet names and sex toys, lots of dirty talk, mutual masturbation, finger sucking, nipple play (reader has sensitive nipples), panty sniffing, what do you call it when a man jerks off using someone’s underwear?, spit, cum eating, plotless porn, also reader wears this.

ʚ author’s note! ɞ — this idea came to me while i was watching the club scene in closer and i just had to write smth for nanami! lmk if i missed anything in the warnings!

ʚ word count! ɞ — 2k

“you’re handsome.” is the first thing you say to the admittedly very handsome man who’d paid for a private hour of your services. a clean cut of shiny blond hair sat atop his head, coiffed in a neat, 7:3 part. his eyes, hazy spools of chocolate lust, followed your every move as you sauntered over near the couch where he sat.

he shamelessly eyed the effortless bounce of your tits as you plopped down on the table before him. “i bet you say that to every man that comes in here.”

“i do, but…” you let the toe of your heel drag up the inner hem of his pant leg. just enough to have him shifting in his seat before you took it away. “you’re special. i don’t have to lie with you.”

having his eyes on you made you feel almost better than sex. because you looked so good tonight, the thin strings of beads accessorizing your outfit—or lack thereof—swayed a bit with each lithe movement of your body. already you found yourself wanting this man. wanting him to keep looking at you like that, wanting him to reach down and grope at the visible hard-on in his pants. want, want, want.

“so, how does this usually work?” the inquisitive tone of his voice very obviously hid the nervousness underneath.

you dragged your eyes up and down his sitting frame. tall, blond, and so damn brooding you couldn’t tell if the anticipation made you hornier or more nervous. “i don’t know, you tell me. every man wants a different thing.”

“like?”

“everything. for the next hour, i can do or be whatever or whoever you want. just say it, and i’m there.”

“well, what do you like the most?”

“hm,” you pondered. you’d actually liked quite a lot of things. you liked being told to get on all fours and balance things on your back. you liked teasing them with almost-kisses and shallow promises of being able to cum inside you before the night was over. (they usually just ended up getting it all over your tits and stomach.) you liked pulling your thong to the side and letting them watch you sink your fingers into your pussy until you were a weeping mess. you loved when a man would pay the extra three hundred dollars to see you stick toys in your cunt or your ass. you loved when they gave you nicknames, and you had so many!—good girl, whore, plaything, tease, princess, mommy, little lamb, angel, dollface, kitty, et cetera.

but there was one thing that was common in every one of those things you just listed. “i love…talking a man through his orgasm.”

a smirk bloomed on the man’s face. “yeah?”

“yeah. i love making them cum knowing i didn’t even have to put my hands on them. that always gets me…” your voice lowered an octave. “really wet.”

the man looked you up and down, as if it were a predator assessing its prey. “are you wet right now?”

you nodded, standing up before he could even vocalize the question, because you knew it was coming. “show me.” he slipped a hundred dollar bill into your money garter and you couldn’t have turned over faster.

you turned your back to him and slid your panties down your legs, letting them land at your ankles. a smile graced your lips as your fingertips brushed your toes, because you knew what he was seeing, and it was a sight that turned even you on. the thick globes of your ass perched in the air, perfectly ready to be pinched and spanked and grabbed and kneaded at a moment’s notice.

then, his eyes would latch onto your cunt—so warm and swollen and soaked, shameless ribbons of arousal leaking from your perfect little hole and dripping down over the erect button of your clit. so smooth and slippery, but so messy, too. your lips and inner thighs were smeared with it.

you heard the familiar rustle of fabric along with a shuddered little sigh and could tell he was palming himself through his pants. “tell me what you want.” you breathed.

“can…can i touch you?” at that, you straightened into a standing position and turned to face him again (carefully, as your underwear were still in a tangle around your ankles).

“not unless i say. that’s the rule.”

you went to pull your panties back up, but he paused your movements with a wave of his hand. “keep ‘em off, and give ‘em to me.” he slipped you another hundred dollars as he ordered, and that familiar feeling of being told what to do had your cunt clenching around nothing. and so you did. you let them dangle around one ankle before plucking them off and tossing them right over to where he sat, specifically, right over his face.

his thick inhale could’ve been heard all the way in alaska. you gushed with pride when he held the fabric over his face a bit longer, groaning in repressed pleasure, “so fuckin’ sweet.”

“do you wanna taste my pussy?” you asked, staring down at him as he ground his hips into thin air. he eagerly nodded, and you propped your heeled foot upon his thigh. another hundred dollars was yours. you dragged your middle and ring fingers through your sodden folds, shivering at the contact but loving it nonetheless. “open up for me, baby.”

he parted his plush, pink lips and you let your fingers rest on his tongue. as he greedily sucked on you, his hands maneuvered with the zipper of his pants and the waistband of his underwear. then he was fucking his own hands—one teasing the leaking, ruddy head of his cock, and the other gently massaging his balls.

“how badly do you wanna touch me?” you wondered aloud, dripping at the scene in front of you. it’d become admittedly very frustrating looking at a dick as nice as his and not planting yourself on it, but you had ten fingers and a hell of an imagination.

he started stroking himself with just his fingers now, pulling your panties off his face so he could see you fully. “so bad.” his cheeks were flushed a rosy pink. “i’m going fuckin’ crazy.”

in a flash, it seemed as though he remembered you were at his mercy for the hour, and his eyes glazed with eureka. “take your top off. i wanna see those tits.” and you did, teasing one strap off your shoulder at a time and exposing the perfect, supple skin of your breasts to the stuffy room air. “yeah, now play with ‘em.”

after just a few light brushes, they were already so tender and pebbled that all you needed was the warmth of someone’s mouth to have your orgasm creeping up on you. you could see him watching intently as you snuck a hand between your legs, and shuddered at the sight. “if you could—shit—touch me right now, what would you do, hm? tell me.”

“i’d take you over my knee. and spank you ‘til you were sore. then i’d play with your pussy. i’d spread you open and, shit, get you all stupid on my fingers. you probably look so pretty when you cum. fuck.” he was a whining, weeping mess, and those were typically your favorite types. they were so horny and desperate by the time you were done, they’d be willing to give you anything.

“i love being spanked after i—” hiccup. “—misbehave. love it when they leave—” your neglected clit was rock hard and soaking by the time your finger brushed over it, and you whimpered at the tiny impact. “handprints all over me. makes me feel so used.”

you wanted to ride him so badly. the thought came to you again when he took his hands off himself. you could see him in all eight inches of his glory, and you almost became ravenous. you needed to ride him. you needed to feel the perfect tip of his dick hitting that magical spot inside you. over and over and over until you were crying or screaming or (preferably) both. you needed to grind your clit against the pretty mound of blond curls at his base. and you needed him to stamp sporadic spanks over your ass as you did it.

“spit for me.” he gently commanded, holding his hand out. and you wasted no time letting a viscous bead of saliva fall from your lips and into his palm. his hands were back on his dick again, slicking himself up with the lubricant you provided. “dirty fuckin’ girl.”

“can i be your dirty girl?” you sighed not breaking eye contact as you slid a finger into your sopping heat. “want you to be so rough with me.”

“tell me how you like it, baby.”

“i want your hands all over me.” through your lidded eyes, you focused on said hands. slicked and slowed along the tempting ridges of his cock. “around my neck. in my mouth.” had you ever allowed yourself to get as lost in a customer as you were with this one? you weren’t sure. and you didn’t wanna waste another second thinking about it. this was the part you liked the most. bringing yourself to the edge with them, making your pleasure theirs. “god, i need you so deep inside me.”

“you’d let me fill you up?” his adam’s apple bobbed with want. “let me fuck you again and again and again until you were full of nothing but my cum?”

and, god, if there wasn’t anything you loved more than feeling a man spill his cum inside of you. the white hot rush of being filled with them, the gratification of not wasting a single drop. and what you wouldn’t have given in that moment to feel this man spill his cum inside of you. the thought coaxed a contented whimper from your lips and you dipped another finger into your weeping pussy.

too many debaucherous thoughts flickering through your head to only focus on once. you cried, “i’d let you cover me in it.” and you were never the type of girl to settle for just one thing anyway. you’d always wanted it all.

a ghost of a smirk graced his features. “all over your tits?”

“wherever you fuckin’ wanted.”

“would you let me fuck that pretty mouth?” he asked, taking your once discarded panties between his fingers and starting to jerk them over his dick. you hastily nodded, your body moving in a paradoxical haze of languid, frenzying pleasure. “you’d take my entire cock down your throat? ‘til there were tears in your eyes? you’re so fuckin’ nasty.”

funnily enough, you felt a cold tear slide down the side of your nose. then another, and then one more. “i know, baby, i know.”

then, your stranger stands up, shadowing you at your seat on the table. from this angle, you could see all that you needed to. the perfect, almost calculated strokes of his dick, his darkened gaze stuck directly to your face, soundtracked by the pretty grunts coming from the back of his throat. “gonna—fuck—i’m gonna cum. can i cum on you? please?”

dangerously close to your own high and peeking through your pleasure stricken haze, your mouth formed around a coquettish simper. “not for free.”

hurriedly, he used a free hand to scavenge through his pocket. out of it, he fished an american express and wasted no time letting it clink as he pushed it between your teeth. “take it. have it. keep it if you want.” his voice was a wanton rasp that sent jolts straight to your clit.

if you’d known his name, you would’ve mewled it as you came, but you didn’t. when the blinding, bodily flash of orgasm enveloped you, you cried, “oh, my god.” or at least you attempted to. his card was still barred between your teeth. forceful gushes of your squirt dampened the table, the floor, and the delicately tailored pants of your mystery man.

“shit,” he hissed, and then came. you were positively euphoric for the warm spurts of cum he painted over your chest. upon releasing his card from your teeth, you almost couldn’t help the ease with which you scooped a bit off with your finger and sucked his spend into your mouth. and when the heaving in both your chests came to slow, burning stop, “you do look pretty when you cum.”

© NININIKKI. do not translate, copy, or modify my works in any way shape or form.

[ilwonuu]

hi! i love your writing sm! can you write smth for sunwoo from the boyz pretty please, like just anything fluff <3 🤭

yes yes i love the boyz sm!!! let me know who your bias is🤭 (dummy probably sunwoo) guess mine!!! i have multiple…lmfao okay anyways i hope you enjoy thank you for your request MYLOVE

.★ love me ★.

→ kim sunwoo.

⚞ summary- you go night swimming with your boyfriend.

⚞ warnings-a couple kisses, they’re in their bathing suits, affection, they are very flirty, love talk(cue wayv), they say the L word( not lesbian!!!),lmk what else

⚞ author’s note- happy late valentines day!!! ily all lmk what u thought of this and the new theme💖

you and your boyfriend don’t always break the rules together. but tonight was very different. though you were only break into the hotel pool after hours. not that much of a crime. you and sunwoo were nervous.

he leads the way to the pool you quietly leading behind him. “there’s no one lets go.” he says before grabbing your hand opening the door to the indoor/outdoor pool. “wow its big in here.” he nods quickly taking off his shirt jumping into the pool. he waves you in shortly after. “come on babe its feels nice in here. i want to kiss you.” he pouts. you comply quickly taking off your clothes over your swimsuit.

walking over to the pool getting in slowly. you are trying to ease your way in as slow as need but sunwoo is pretty impatient. he tugs your arm foward so you fall face first in the pool.

he looks so handsome. his hair not falling in his face as much. tan skin against the lights of the pool. he always looks beautiful but he especially does in the moment. you never want it to end. remembering to give him a playful response

“sunwoo. you are mean.” you pretend to cry. he doesn’t even begin to fall for your fake acts. “come here babe.” he says in low whisper you swim over to him.

he is now looking down at you. he pulls your face up closer to his. “hi.” you say nervously. “hi baby.” he chuckles at your nervous state. “your hair looks cute all messy and wet like this.” he smiles rubbing your hair around softly.

you roll your eyes at his actions but you are used to it by now. you pucker your lips at your boyfriend suddenly. him immediately responding, kissing your lips a couple of times. “so cute.” he gives you one big kiss on the forehead. you make a fake gag noise splashing him shortly after.

“you’re annoying.” he splashes you gently. “i love you tho.”

“i love you woo.” he pulls you against his chest. facing him directly. “so pretty.” he pulls you into a gentle kiss.

you melt into his lips for a moment pulling away. he just smiles at you. splashes you one more time before swimming away from you.

[pav-ia]

hi there!

if you're want to, could you write Yandere Pavia with a reader who knows that he's a yandere? [like they can outsmart him]

it's fine if you can't

,, cat and mouse ”

pavia x gn reader drabble

cw :: yandere, unhealthy obsession, reverse yandere(?), mutual pining but like in a fucked up way, dubious consent(kissing)

(hi anon i dont know if this is what u meant so lmk if u were envisioning smth different ! sorry this was short this draft has been rotting for days now)

you werent stupid. you heard the clicks of a camera whenever the sun hit you just right, you knew of the prying eyes that stared at you as you walked down the street, you knew who sent you bouquets and little pieces of jewelry.

but you didnt mind, of course.

you played dumb, so extremely well that he fell right for it.

you flashed him smiles, winks, cute waves. you loved seeing him absolutely fawn over you. maybe the unlocked window was unintentional too~

of course, your teasing started with a simple desire to be safe. you had trusted pavia, but now that youve seen his real colors, you werent so sure. you started by playing dumb so he wouldnt suspect anything, but as time went on you became more and more confident. you were playing a game of cat and mouse, and he thought he was the cat. (he wasnt ♡)

your nervousness around the dangerous man turned into a fascination at how far you could push him. falling into the cute traps hed set only made him more obsessed with you.

admittedly, your fascination turned into admiration, you loved how adorably stupid he was<3

when he kidnapped you, you played right into his cards.

“wh-where am i..?” youd ask in a shaky voice. trying so hard to be that sweet innocent thing he took you as. you already knew everything about his whole setup. he’d brought you to his home, you were in the bedroom that was closest to his own room, and you were blindfolded against the bed.

it was adorable how thrilled he was at your reaction..

he pulled the blindfold off of your eyes, his expression dangerous and dark. he pressed his lips to you, and you didnt even bother feigning surprise. you wanted him just as bad as he wanted you, melting into the kiss. it was desperate, needy and passionate, his hands finding your waist and your hands finding his hair. when he pulled away, he was panting and you were smirking.

“atta boy.” you chuckled, pulling him into another one.

oh shit, hes into that.

[doodles-bi-tea]

how you met the love of your life, benny miller

pairing: benny miller x bartender reader [second person, no y/n]

warnings: mentions + consumption of alcohol. that’s really it. flirting?? idk

word count: 2,116

a/n: heyyy I’ve been really inactive (at least in terms of posting) but I’ve opened up requests recently! this isn’t a request but thought I’d write something just for fun and to get back into writing. here’s the post where I talked abt the requests, feel free to send something in!! also sorry I kind of weirdly switched time perspectives closer to the end so uhhh hope you don’t mind it just felt weird trying to fix it so I didn’t. but yeah I’ve been hella obsessed with benny miller from triple frontier so figured I’d write smth for him 🤗 honestly not entirely sure I like this oneshot that much but yeah whatever if you enjoy feel free to lmk <3

The bar was quiet, to say the least. It was a Saturday night, which typically meant that many of your usuals would be there, as well as other strangers looking to unwind after the work week. But, fortunately for you, it was mostly empty, save for most of the aforementioned usuals. This was an empty shift no one else wanted to take, and you didn’t have plans so you just decided to take it on a whim. You wiped off a glass and set it on the counter next to a few others, hearing the bell on the door ring again.

Glancing up, you saw a group of four [hot] men come in, talking and smiling with each other. You watched them as they made their way over to a booth closer to the back. They got settled in as you continued to dry different beer and cocktail glasses behind the counter.

Since it wasn’t busy, you spent most of your time just doing mundane tasks to clean and fix different things around the bar and in the back. Eventually, one of the men came from the booth and up to the bar to grab drinks. He wore a dark red t-shirt and beige pants, with a navy baseball cap atop his head and aviators covering his eyes.

He asked for four beers, which you then handed to him. He nodded in acknowledgment, and was turning to leave with the bottles, but paused.

“Hey, by the way-“ he turned again to face you. “-my friend over there thinks you’re cute.”

You were admittedly a little stunned to hear that, but you let your eyes drift over to the booth where his friends sat. Also to your surprise, two of the other three were looking back at you. The one wearing a blue button up over a white tee and a backwards green baseball cap put his hand up with a grin and winked.

“What’s his name?” You waved back, albeit more hesitant.

“Benny. I would’ve sent him over but didn’t know if you’d like that.” He put the beers down on the counter as he leaned against it.

“Tell him he can come over if he wants, I don’t mind. Oh, but what’s your name?”

“Just call me Frankie.” He stuck his hand out and you shook it. “Let me know if he starts harassing you or something, I’ll beat ‘im up.”

You smiled and chuckled quietly. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, but thank you.”

He nodded before grabbing the beers and heading back to the booth. You saw him put the bottles down on the table before sitting down and saying something to the rest of the group. It probably had something to do with what you said about Benny, seeing as he stood up suddenly and began [nearly] bounding over, beer in hand, like a golden retriever with a stick in its mouth.

“Hey.” You greeted him as he sat on one of the barstools and leaned against the counter.

“Hey,” He smiled at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling upwards like his lips. “I’m Ben, or you can call me Benny.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting but it certainly wasn’t his voice when he first spoke. It was deep and smooth, with a hint of a southern drawl, like music to your ears or honey for your tea.

“Yeah, Frankie over there told me.” You nodded over in the direction of the booth he had just come from. “Said you thought I was cute?”

Benny chuckled, letting his head tilt downwards as if to look at his shirt or shoes bashfully. It was a wonderful sound. “Yeah, yeah, I still do.”

You suddenly became aware of the fact that you were feeling warm all over, and a little nervous. You’d have your fair share of people hitting on you, but Benny seemed different for once. He seemed very genuine.

You weren’t sure what it was. Maybe the way his dark dirty blonde hair peeked out from the edges of his backwards baseball cap. Maybe the way his eyelashes were so thick and dark that you could practically see them from a mile away. Maybe the way his voice had your stomach doing somersaults any time he spoke. Anyway, you weren’t sure what it was.

“Well thank you then, hon.” You smiled back at him. “I think you’re pretty cute too.”

“Thanks.” He chuckled again, before taking a sip of his beer.

That noise. You would never get enough of it. It was deep, slightly raspy, and had a bit of a stutter to it. Your knees nearly buckled underneath you when he looked back up at you with those pretty blue eyes.

“So,” Benny started, setting his bottle down on the counter and crossing his arms. “Could I get to know you a little better?”

The once-boring evening turns into something much more enjoyable from that point on. You continue serving the customers that are already there and the ones that come in later. Benny sits at the counter, talking to you about each of your likes and dislikes, daily life, stuff like that. He asks you about the bar, you ask him about his fights and training. It’s nice and calm, and he’s very easy to talk to. He makes a joke about every other sentence, but you can tell he’s not trying too hard, it’s just something that comes naturally to him.

You ask him a couple times if he needs to get back to his friends, who are still nursing their beers and talking amongst themselves, but he smiles and waves the notion away.

“I’d much rather talk to you, honey.”

This man was going to be the death of you, with his stupid pretty blue eyes and fluffy hair and soft jaw defined by that barely-there stubble.

The night continues on. You and Benny end up talking until closing, long after his first and only beer is gone, when you realize that it’s only you two and his friends left in the building.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I talked your ear off all night. I should start closing up.” You apologize, wiping the counter with a rag one last time for the night.

Benny smiles at you gently. “You’re fine, don’t worry about it. I had fun, even if all we were doing was talkin’.”

“Me too.”

There’s a bit of silence as you finish cleaning and putting some things away, before you decide to speak again.

“Hey, I hope it isn’t too forward of me, but could I get your number?” You’re not sure where the sudden confidence comes from, but it appears and you welcome it.

“Honey,” Benny grins a little wider this time. “You can never be too forward with me. Here, hand me your phone real quick.”

You feel your cheeks warm up again as you hand it to him, waiting as he creates a contact for himself. He hands you the phone back a moment later. “Benny Miller,” the contact reads.

“Thanks, Miller.”

“No problem. Make sure to text me later. I’ll be waitin’ for it.” He winks.

You can only chuckle in response, feeling almost giddy as you notice his friends make their way over to the bar behind Benny.

One of them, not Frankie, though, came up next to Benny. He was slightly shorter than Benny if he were standing, but looked somewhat like him, instead with shorter hair of a similar dark blonde hue, and more grown out facial hair. He shared Benny’s striking blue eyes.

“Hey, we’re heading out now.” He told Benny, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You wanna leave with me or do you need the keys to the truck? I can leave with Frankie and Santi if you need to stay longer.”

Ah, so that’s the name of the other man next to Frankie. All four of them were very attractive, now that you get a nice up-close look at them. You give a little wave to Frankie as he talks with “Santi.” He smiles and waves back, not breaking their discussion.

“Oh, uh…” Benny trailed off, before looking back at you. “Did you need a ride?”

As much as you would have liked that, you had your own car to take home. Damn, the one time you choose not to get an Uber.

“No, I have my own car, it’s fine. And I need to just close up anyways, I’ve cleaned up most of the stuff already.”

“Okay,” He grinned at you before turning back to the other man. “I’ll take the keys, thanks.”

The man nodded and fished them out of his pocket, along with his wallet. He placed a $20 and a $5 bill on the counter and slid it over to you.

“I’m Will,” Like Frankie, he holds his hand out for you to shake, which you take. “Thanks for the beers. Let me know if you need anything.” He says that last part to Benny, before nodding again at you in acknowledgment and then turning to leave with Frankie and Santi—who you didn’t get to talk to, unfortunately.

He seemed fun, though, as he yelled out to Benny as they began opening the door. “See you later, tonto!” [“See you later, silly!”]

You giggle a little as the door swings closed and Benny scoffs under his breath. “They sound like a fun group.”

“Yeah, they can be. A bit of a handful, though.”

“Present company excluded?” You tilt your head slightly and raise an eyebrow.

“You’ll just have to find that out when we go on a real date, honey.” He flashes you a smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he does so. “Could I walk you out when you’re done here?”

For nearly the tenth time tonight butterflies arise in your stomach at his antics. “Yeah, that’d be nice. Let me go in the back real quick and then we can go.”

He nods and checks his phone as you head behind the doors to the storage rooms and kitchen area, just doing a check-up to make sure everything’s locked and secured. You finish that up quickly and turn off all the lights in the rooms before coming back out behind the bar counter to face Benny.

He looks up from his phone and gives you a sweet smile as he turns it off and slides it back into his back pocket. “Everything good?”

“Yep,” You reach into a cabinet behind you to grab your bag and coat. “Ready to go.”

You finish putting on your coat as you come out from behind the bar to stand next to Benny, who gets up from his seat before pushing in the stool.

“Shall we?” He holds his bent arm out to you as if you two were about to go out on a walk in a fancy flower garden.

You chuckle quietly at the motion, before going to hook your arm with his. “We shall.”

And so the two of you walk out—you locking up before you leave, of course—and he leads you to your car.

“Thanks for walking me out.” You smile at him under the mixture of the glow of the moon and the shine of the streetlights. “You’re real sweet, you know that?”

“It’s no problem. Just been raised that way,” Benny grins back. “Gotta make sure you get home safe.”

You hum in agreement, tracing his features with your eyes for the last time that night. Your ears almost don’t hear what he says because you’re so enthralled with just studying his face. “Real pretty too, Benny.”

His smile drops for a moment, out of shock, you think, before he just looks down again at the ground, cheeks flushed. He almost looks embarrassed, and for a moment you’re afraid you’ve said something wrong. You open your mouth to speak but he says something first.

“I think that’s the best compliment a man like me could get, honey.” He brings his gaze back up to make eye contact with you, his voice smooth and deep. “Thank you. You’re real pretty too.”

Even as you head home alone, driving along the dark and near-empty streets, you can’t stop thinking about him. About how pretty he looked under the moonlight in the latest hours of night, the early hours of the morning, in that barren parking lot. About how easy it was to talk to him and how interested he was in the things you had to say. The dark was unsettling, but his presence made everything a bit brighter.

You would definitely have to find a way to thank Frankie for introducing you later.