╰☆╮Sel╰☆╮

You bit your tongue, because whatever words that could’ve possibly tumbled out of your mouth in response would have been wildly impulsive, and probably inappropriate.

You were one of five skaters your coach, Jack Abbot managed, but you were his best. His golden girl. Or so he said. The way he spoke to you at times made you feel like the term’s polar opposite.

You’d been working with Jack for the last three years. In that time, he’d made an absolute star out of you. You’d assisted in a few shows on ice and competed in sporadic competitions before becoming so adored by the public that people wanted to see you perform at your own shows. That upcoming tour was the very thing that had your coach’s panties in a twist.

Jack had always been a little gruff, but he’d been different lately. You couldn’t really blame him. The stress of the tour had you behaving a little out of character, and your die hard figure skating coach was likely interpreting it as indifference. In reality, you were just nervous, and you wanted to exceed the expectations of everyone who was coming to opening night.

While you understood his perspective, would it kill him to sugarcoat anything? You honestly think you’d prefer he lie to you than be so blatantly rude. At least you had somewhere good to put the reassurance, even if it was fabricated. The petty comments only made you feel worse.

“I do want this,” you grumbled, pulling your skates on. “I’m here now, right? So, come on, let’s go.”

Jack looked like he wanted to protest, but he gave in and sighed. “Fine. Let’s.”

He held the door to the chilly ice rink open for you. You stepped out onto the ice and breathed the frosty air in, hoping it’d ease your nerves. With your luck, however, it instantly had the opposite effect.

“Two laps around the rink. I’ll wait here.”

“Okay,” you said. You’d failed to mention the part where you hadn’t stretched before this like usual, and hoped he wasn’t soon to figure that out.

You felt Jack’s eyes boring into you as you made your first lap around the rink. It felt like he’d been scrutinizing your every move lately, even when you were off the ice, and it was futile for your confidence.

“Pointers?” you shed through clenched teeth after your first lap. Jack only grumbled in return.

“No. One more. Backwards.”

You sighed and did as told, turning around to perform the backwards lap. Aside from a slight trip, you remained on your feet until you circled all the way back to him.

“Two foot slalows. Around the rink.”

You nodded and got right to work, moving your body from side to side as you made your way around again. You were starting to feel a little warm despite having not stretched, so you at least had that going for you.

Jack had you do a few more familiar warm ups before you were off the hook. He eyed you with that same look of scrutiny when you returned, putting his hands together. “Good. Let’s see you practice some jumps.”

You nodded and got to work. Tried to, anyway. The first three jumps went by like a breeze, but the fourth had you taking a slight stumble on the ice. Jack was skating near you now and helped you up, less because he wanted to and more because he felt obligated.

“Up. Try again,” Jack said.

He skated with you while you prepared for a fifth jump, this one landing with ease. You breathed a sigh of relief at the small victory, but this practice was still far from over.

“Better,” said Jack plainly. Why were his insults always more decorated than his compliments?

“Thanks,” you returned just as flatly. “S’that enough?”

“For now. You feeling warm?” he asked. You nodded.

“Good. Let’s see your choreo.”

“Just like that? But we haven’t—“

Jack held up a hand. “I want to see what you remember. Surely you should know the routine you’ll have to execute in less than a week before, I don’t know, thousands of people? Right, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. The nickname was typically sugary, but coming from Jack’s lips, it was more bitter than ever. In the time that you’d known him, he hardly uttered it with affection.

“Right, Coach,” you bit annoyedly. “I should.”

“Then, show me.”

“Can I play the music for it?”

“If that’ll improve your performance, sure.”

With an eye roll you hoped Jack didn’t catch, you made your way off the rink and to the soundbooth outside it, using your phone to queue up the music that’d play as you skated on opening night. The choreography required you start off the ice to make an entrance, so the second you started the playlist, you flew out on your skates.

The routine started well. You did two dramatic laps around the rink, swaying your arms and settling back into the rhythm you’d been trying to return to for weeks. You did a few twists here and there to show off, letting the music sweep you into an elegant dance on the ice.

It was elegant, at least, until your first complicated move, a double axel jump into a smooth landing, followed by a traveling camel spin—seriously, what the fuck was Jack thinking?—snuck up on you at the height of the song’s chorus. You braced yourself for the move and took a deep breath before attempting it, silently praying to whatever god there was that you did this right.

Unfortunately for you, if there was one, they were not on your side as you flew into the air and promptly landed on your ass.

“Fuck,” you muttered as Jack skated over to you. He helped you to your feet, but he didn’t look happy to do so.

“Again.”

You went back to the soundbooth to restart the playlist, emerging onto the ice with your same dramatic flare from earlier. Whatever they said about faking it until you made it really needed to prove true for you right now.

You conquered the same move you’d just failed like the universe was purposely playing tricks on you. At least the small win eased your nerves the slightest bit.

It was mostly short lived, however, as you prepared for the following one.

You steeled yourself to go into a toe-loop jump, one of the many moves that’d had people enamored with you from day one. Two large glides and some mental motivation had you pulling the move off with flawlessness.

You could see Jack’s slight nod from the corner of your eye. While it wasn’t much, it was more than he’d given you all morning, and you had to hold onto that.

Subsequently, after another dramatic lap, you had another complicated jump in the finality of the song. The Salchow jump was no easy feat for any skater, but if you wanted eyes on you, it was definitely the way to go.

As the bridge of the song began to play, you readied yourself for the final complicated move of this part of the show. You felt Jack’s eyes burning into you from somewhere in the room, ready to witness your coordination. You sure hoped you could muster that in time for the final move.

You glided once, twice, willing your feet to act like they were attached to a halfway decent skater, and leaped into the air to make your final move. You executed it with confidence, completing it with a decent landing, but you lost your footing towards the end of it, ultimately throwing the elegance of the move off.

“Christ,” Jack said to you when you skated back over to him, the first song having now ended. “I’ve seen far better from you. And I expect it in the next song.”

“Yes, Coach,” you said with a sigh. You were starting to think that the reason Jack’s exasperation irritated you to pieces was because it was mostly justified.

You skated off the rink once again and queued up your second song, this one a little more upbeat than the last. You took your place on the ice to start the routine, but this time, Jack skated over, positioning himself behind you.

You turned to cock an eyebrow at him, your eyes twisted into what was practically a glare.

Jack waved his hand. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

“Easier said than done,” you muttered under your breath.

You started skating again, keeping a quickened pace that matched the faster tempo of the song. The beginning had a few simpler moves than the first, which gave you enough time to hopefully. . . .hopefully. . .find your groove again.

Except you were utterly grooveless as you lost your footing for the umpteenth time, far before your first complicated move. Hell, before the song had really started.

You didn’t even notice that Jack had skated off the rink until the song stopped abruptly, making you pause in your tracks. You skated over to the soundbooth, stepping inside the bleachers area.

“Alright, I can’t watch this anymore,” Jack huffed. “Skates off.”

“What? But, Coach, I—“

“Off. I don’t want to hear it.”

You furrowed your eyebrows but obliged—you owed him that after what was arguably your worst performance of all time—and sat down on the bleachers to take your skates off. You slipped your regular shoes back on and spent far longer than necessary lacing them to avoid Jack’s piercing glare.

“You trying to make a fool of yourself or me?” Jack barked.

“What?” you said.

“If your heart’s not in it, sweetheart, and clearly, it’s elsewhere right now, now’s the time to tell me. My career doesn’t need to go down with yours.”

You scoffed, standing up. “You didn’t even help me out there. Your criticism only made it worse,” you snapped.

“At least it was constructive. Why should I have to hold your hand through this? You know far better than to put on a show like that.”

“I wouldn’t be putting on a show like that if my coach acted like he gave a shit!”

Jack crossed his arms. “I do give a shit. Too many, apparently. You want the big leagues, honey? Those coaches would have ended your contract like that for even half the performance I just saw.”

You crossed your own arms to mirror him, huffing.

Jack took a step closer to you. His face went the slightest bit softer despite his earlier fury. “Look. I’m not saying this to be a hardass. And I’m sorry if it’s coming off that way. Skating’s your passion, and I know you want this,” he said. “But if you can’t act like you want to be here, then I can’t help you. Nod if you understand me.”

Your head seemed to nod of its own accord.

“Great. Now, you going to tell me what’s the matter?”

You looked up at the taller man, taking your bottom lip between your teeth. “I don’t know, Coach. I’m stressed, I guess. Stressed I’m going to royally destroy the opening show this weekend. And I suppose I. . .I’m also scared to disappoint you.”

“You might do both things if you can’t get your head in the game,” Jack deadpanned.

“Coach,” you whined.

“It’s true,” he said. His tone went quieter then as he looked you in the eye. “But you probably won’t do either if you put your heart in it, too.”

You held eye contact for a minute without speaking or moving. As much as you hated to admit it, Jack did have a point. As a matter of fact, you’d hardly known him to ever be wrong since the day you’d fucking met him.

Jack broke the silence. “So, what do you need? More practice? Pointers? Need to stretch again?”

“Well. . .” you said. “About that.”

“What?”

“I didn’t actually stretch before this? Was already late, and—“

“Hold on. You got on the rink without stretching?”

“Yes? No? Which answer will take the look you’ve got on your face right now away?”

“Jesus Christ,” Jack said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You want to get hurt now, too? Fuck, what am I going to do with you?”

“I’m sorry! Again,” you said. “Let’s stretch.”

“You need more than dynamics. Let’s take a walk.”

You cocked an eyebrow as Jack started to split down the hallway that led outside the arena. “More than dynamics?”

“Yeah. I need you back on your A-game, and we need to release any tension in your muscles before you start again,” Jack said. “You coming or what?”

“Yes, Coach,” you said, ever the dutiful skater, following behind him.

You trailed beside him until you reached a room you’d never been in outside the rink. It was mostly empty save for one of those doctoral beds in the corner, as well as a counter with a few random items atop it.

“Never been back here before,” you said. “What is this?”

“There used to be masseuses here for the figure skaters and hockey players that come through. Few other rooms just like this one down the way,” Jack said.

“So you get to play masseuse now. Exciting.”

“Hilarious. Come on, honey. Vest off.”

You took off the puffy vest you’d had on and set it on a chair in the room. You also took your shoes off at Jack’s command.

“Did you want, um. . .should I keep my shirt on? I have a tank top under. And shorts,” you said awkwardly.

“It’d make it easier,” Jack said plainly.

You then made quick work of your longsleeve, revealing a thin tank top underneath, followed by your thermal leggings. The exposure made your cheeks heat up slightly, but Jack thankfully didn’t seem phased. 

“Lay down. You can start on your back.”

You got onto the bed with Jack’s help—and tried not to think too hard about his hand lingering on your waist—and laid down flat. Jack’s warm hands met the flesh of your leg, and you turned away timidly as he started to lift it.

“Let’s loosen those hamstrings, yeah?” Jack said. He lightly thumbed your skin while your leg was positioned above you, working into the knots you hadn’t even known accumulated there. The feeling might have been foreign, but that didn’t mean it felt bad.

“No wonder you can’t skate. You’re tense.”

“Would it kill you to say anything nicely?”

Jack chuckled. “Maybe it would.”

He put your left leg down and moved onto your right, repeating the same routine.

“Just breathe. Relax. You’ll feel better.”

You tried your best to internalize that, but you couldn’t relax with the feel of Jack’s hands on you if you tried.

He lowered your leg and pushed your knees into your chest, holding them there. You completely averted eye contact with him, letting the silence speak for you. Jack hummed like he was amused.

“What?” you said.

“All that fire on the rink but you can’t even look me in the eye in here. It’s funny.”

“Shut up. It’s just awkward.”

“Still funny,” Jack said. “Both legs up. Hold it.”

You lifted both your legs. The stretch did at least feel good in your glutes, and the ones prior had you feeling good in general, so you had to give him credit for that.

“Legs down. Put your foot over your other leg, then switch.”

“You’d make a good doctor,” you teased as you used both arms to hold your leg over the other.

Jack rolled his eyes. “All this shit is Google-able. So as I said earlier, it’s like you want to get hurt.”

“Jesus. Old man can’t take a joke now?”

“Sure I can. Switch legs.”

You followed his instruction, but you weren’t done pushing him yet. “I’m just saying. Doctor Jack Abbot. . .mhm, could totally see it.”

“You’d probably give me a hard time as a patient, too,” Jack said.

“I don’t give you a hard time now,” you hummed. “You just take everything so personally.”

“You trying to piss me off?”

“See? My point is proven.”

“Turn over. On your stomach.”

You did as told and laid on your front now, feeling even more vulnerable like this. Jack rubbed your inner thighs with the pads of his fingertips. You let out a shaky sigh in return.

“Feel good?”

“Mhm. It’s. . .nice.”

“Good,” he said. He lifted your leg again, pushing it towards you until you felt a stretch in your quad. “Hold it.”

After doing the same to your other leg, putting you in child’s pose, and lastly, into a cobra position, Jack finally let up. You sat up and faced him, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed.

“How was that?” Jack asked.

“Way better than dynamics. I feel great.”

“Of course you do. The longer you neglect your muscles, the better it feels when you finally release the tension in them.”

You rolled your eyes. “And here I was, about to tell you how good of a masseuse you are.”

“You’re full of jokes today, aren’t you?” Jack said with a small chuckle. But he tried, no surprise to you, to hide his amusement beneath his usual stoicism. “I’m still not too happy with you.”

You let out an exaggerated groan. “Come on, Coach. I already said I was sorry! What else do you want from me?”

“What do I want?” Jack said, taking a step closer to you. You parted your legs without thinking so he could stand between them, all before you could really process what you were doing. What he was doing. 

“I want my golden girl back.”

You swallowed nervously as you looked up at him. Apart from celebratory hugs and pats on the back, you didn’t think you’d ever stood so close to him; close enough to make out every gorgeous feature on the older man’s face, every gray in his stubble. Every rise and fall of breath, the freckles that started at his neck and slowly descended beneath his shirt. . .

Your breath hitched at the proximity, leaving you stupidly tongue tied, until you managed a small, “I can be her. I promise.”

Jack rested a hand beside you on the bed. “Yeah, honey? You promise?”

“Yes, Coach.”

Like two magnets with an impenetrable force, you both found yourselves leaning into what was more than a kiss, but a whole new side of your relationship you hadn’t known existed until now. You weren’t exactly sure who sealed the deal, only that Jack cupped your cheek with a tenderness contrasted deeply by his previous gruffness, and started to work his lips against yours similarly.

The kiss was soft and sweet, tentative, like Jack was trying to figure out what you liked. Luckily for him, you had no problem disclosing just that. You pushed your tongue past his lips and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

Jack grunted against your mouth, possibly the hottest sound you’d ever heard, and slipped his fingers into your hair. His hold wasn’t to control you but more to possess, and the thought had you soaked.

You weren’t the only one worked up, however, because there was a bulge in Jack’s pants that was already hard and insistent against you.

The kiss became frantic as the sounds of both your noises filled the room. You desperately guided his hand down to your shorts, right above your clothed core. Jack chuckled against your mouth.

“My God, honey. You’re so fucking needy,” he said, but he didn’t pull his hand away. He laid his palm flat over your center, and though fabric prevented him from fully doing so, you still rutted your hips against his hand.

“You expected me to stay sane after I had your hands all over me, Coach?” you rasped.

Jack shook his head. He looked you in the eyes while he kept his palm against your core, letting you take your pleasure. “Skip the formalities, sweetheart. You can call me Jack.”

“Okay,” you said with a swallow.

“Say it to me.”

“Jack.”

“Again.”

“Jack.”

“That’s it. Get used to it. S’exactly what you’re gonna say when I fuck you stupid on my cock,” Jack said with so much nonchalance, you could barely register the implication. “Hips up. I want your shorts off.”

“So bossy,” you teased, but you did as told. You lifted your hips so Jack could slide your shorts off your body, revealing your pitifully soaked underwear. 

“Should have expected that from you of all people,” you said.

Jack helped you take them off, discarding them on the chair you’d put your vest on. “Girls like you need it. Always acting up until someone puts you in your place,” he tutted.

Jack audibly groaned at the prominent wet spot on your panties. He rubbed his thumb over your clit through the cloth, finding the spot easily, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips.

“Fuck, look at you. S’this why you were fucking up out there, honey? Too wet to think straight?” he cooed.

Unable to argue with that, you bit your lip. “Can you b- blame me? You can be really hot when you’re mad.”

“Which, according to you, I’m always mad.”

“Then you’re always hot.”

“Have you always thought that, honey?” Jack said, his pace against your clit quickening.

“It’s kind of hard not to notice,” you admitted unabashedly. “Especially when you—fuck—talk to me like that. Makes me think all kinds of dirty things about you.”

“Oh, yeah? And just what kind of things d’you want this dirty old man doing to you, doll?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you teased. You pulled him in by his curls, twisting them in your fingers and pulling him in for a heated kiss. “Let’s start with your fingers inside me.”

“Demanding girl, aren’t you?” Jack scoffed, but he still obliged. He instructed you to lift your hips and slipped your panties off your legs, shamelessly putting them in his pocket.

“Perv.”

“You like it,” Jack said. He wasn’t wrong.

Jack slipped two fingers between your folds to find you wet and pliant for him, your hole practically crying to be filled. He used his free hand to drag you to the edge of the bed, keeping his arm around your waist and his eyes on yours while he teased your slit. Your breath picked up speed at the teasing gesture while your body begged for more.

“Come on, Jack,” you breathed, tasting his name on your lips. You found its flavor as sultry as the scene before you. “Don’t make me beg.”

“I don’t know, honey. After your little tantrum today? I think you deserve it.”

“Jack.”

“What?” Jack said nonchalantly, still teasing you between your folds. You thought you might implode if he didn’t fuck you already. “I told you what I want. So come on, doll. Ask me nicely.”

“Please, Jack. Please, fuck me.”

“Good girl,” Jack said, and with that, he slipped two fingers inside you, thrusting them in deep. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Fuck, n- no,” you squeaked as he began to thrust in and out of your tight walls, your own wetness the only thing allowing him to breach it at all. “Jesus, Jack,” you whined, scratching your nails into his bicep.

“Fuck, love when you say my name, baby,” Jack grunted. He pulled you impossibly closer, gripping your waist with a possessiveness that was making you feel dizzy. “Can you take a third?”

“Already? Shit, you’re insatiable.”

“Guilty,” Jack smirked.

“For you, I can.”

“Aren’t you a sweetheart,” Jack cooed to make it sound sugary, but you knew it was anything but. He slipped a third finger inside you, groaning as you clenched around the digits. He began to pump them in and out of you with vigor, eyes never leaving yours.

“Mmm, so good,” you whimpered. Fuck, if you were this stupid on his fingers, you had no idea how you’d handle his cock.

“You’re cute when you can’t think,” Jack said. He flicked his thumb against your clit, implementing the same circular motion he had previously. “No bratting, no back-talk. S’like my version of heaven.”

“You’re so. . .mean. . .”

“Oh, but you like it, huh? Look how hard you’re clenching around me,” Jack tutted. “Now I know the trick. Give this pussy a bit of attention and you’re a stupid little slut for me.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” you whined as he spoke. “Don’t stop, Jack, please, m’gonna cum.”

“Don’t stop what? This?” Jack said with a particularly sharp thrust into your cunt. “Or did you mean treating you like a whore, honey? Yeah, that’s it. You need a filthy old man putting you in your place.”

“God, y- yes,” you nodded your agreement. “Need you to fuck me so dumb, Jack.” 

“Gonna give you everything you want, sugar. Just need to be good f’me. . .you are capable of that, aren’t you?” Jack cooed, taking your face in his free hand. He pinched your cheeks between his fingers, making you look at him.

“Yes, sir. So, so good.”

“There’s my precious slut. Cum for me, baby. Cum all over your old man’s hand.”

That did you in. A wave of pleasure crashed over you as you came with a shudder, holding onto Jack’s arm while he fucked you through your release. His fingers didn’t leave until you were basking in the aftershocks, and only then did he pull them out, sucking his fingers clean.

You pulled Jack in for another kiss, moaning when your tongue met his. He kept a hand on your waist, the other on your neck, gently squeezing down. You moaned into the rough touch in approval.

Jack pulled away to help you get your shirt off, then unclasped your bra with scary ease. He groaned at the sight of your hardened peaks, taking both breasts into his hands.

“Shit. Your tits are perfect,” Jack said as he squeezed them both, circling your nipples with his thumbs.

“Fuck,” you whined. You watched him trail kisses from your neck to your collarbone until his tongue swiped over your chest. He sucked one of your breasts into his mouth, swirling the length of it over your nipple, while one of his hands continued to knead your other tit.

“Beautiful girl,” Jack hummed more to himself than to you, all while his mouth continued working. His filthy words and flick of his tongue against your chest, paired with the incessant hard-on pressing against you from below, was about to make you fucking explode.

“This is some. .  .stress relief,” you whined, still trying to joke despite your vulnerable position. “You really would be a good doctor.”

“Back to that, are we?” Jack hummed against your nipple. “What are you trying to say?

You laced your fingers through Jack’s hair again, playing with it as you spoke. “Just. . .saying. This feels like a check-up, that’s all.”

“What’s that make you, then?” Jack hummed. “My pretty little patient?”

Caught off guard by his words, you let out an involuntary whimper. “I suppose it does.”

“Well, don’t worry, doll,” Jack said. He squeezed your nipple even harder, pinching it between his fingers. “Doctor Abbot’s gonna get you all fixed up.”

With that, he latched his mouth onto your nipple again, swirling the bud with his tongue. It was evident what kind of man he was as he took a liking to your pretty tits, hardly coming up for air and grunting like he was the one being pleasured.

“That feel good, baby?” Jack hummed after switching to your other nipple, giving it as much attention as the other.

“So good. Doctor,” you teased without thinking. “But I want more.”

“Oh, s’that right? You’re gonna have to use your words, sugar.”

“I want your cock, doctor. Think that’d really fix me.”

Jack chuckled and stood upright. You didn’t have to tell him twice. “Lay back.”

You did as told and laid down on the bed he’d been stretching you on previously. Well, you supposed this still counted as. . .stretching. . .right?

As Jack started to remove his pants, you realized you’d been completely naked while he was fully clothed. He almost stopped at his bottoms and climbed atop you, until you shook your head.

“Shirt, too, Doctor.”

“Bossy,” Jack said, but he didn’t deprive you. He removed his shirt and discarded it on the growing pile of clothes across the room. The sight of his bare chest had you impossibly wetter, even more so as he settled between your legs on the bed.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you said as he hovered over you.

“Look at that. You do know how to be nice,” he returned.

“You should be the last person talking.”

“I’m as nice as they come,” Jack hummed like he actually believed it. He started to free his cock from his boxers, and the girth of him surprised you. You sat up on your elbows to get a better look, swallowing at the size.

Jack’s face went a little softer. “You okay, baby? Sure you can take it?”

You nodded quickly. In fact, you might have been a little too excited to take him, not so much the converse. “S’this gonna help me, Doctor? Relieve my stress?”

Jack smirked at you. “Sure is, doll.”

“Then, yeah, I can take it.”

“That’s a good girl. See? You can be smart,” he said.

“Oh, fuck you,” you retorted.

“Gladly,” Jack said. He slotted his already leaking tip between your folds, putting a hand beside your head to keep himself steady. “Ready?”

You nodded.

“Words, sugar.”

“Yes, Coach.”

Caught off guard by your words, Jack sunk into you shakily, the name in a moment like this working him right up. “Fuck. You’re trouble.”

You gasped at the utter stretch of him inside you, and felt even more shocked when you looked down and realized that was only half of him. Jesus. You were already sweating and he hadn’t even fully breached your hole yet.

“Oh, s’that too much, love?” Jack cooed at your little whimpers. He pressed a kiss to your lips to silence you, humming as his mouth swallowed your noises. “Shhh, shhh, you can take it. Big stretch, sweetheart.”

With that, he pushed even further into you, watching your face for your reaction. His equally cocky and attentive demeanor was making your head spin with complete and utter lust.

When he was all the way inside, he started to thrust into your pussy, picking up speed the faster your moans got. Your body was gradually accommodating his size, but the longer he fucked you, the better it felt.

“Jack, f- fuck, you’re so big,” you moaned as he rocked his hips against you. Jack was so deep that his heavy balls were slapping against you with every thrust, adding to the erotic nature of the moment.

“You like that, sugar? How much I fill you?”

“So, so much. Please, don’t stop,” you whined.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Jack grunted into your ear, his thrusts already getting sloppier. For how uptight he was on the ice, it was jarring in all the right ways to see him lose a bit of control.

“My good girl. My golden girl. Taking her coach’s cock so well,” Jack cooed.

“Wanna be your good girl, Coach. Only yours.”

“That’s what I like to hear, sugar,” Jack grunted.

He picked up the pace and fucked you into the bed quicker now. Your back arched off the surface, the man so deep it was like you could feel him in your throat, as you took every punishing thrust of his hips into your gummy walls.

Jack withdrew momentarily, the loss pulling a whimper from your lips. “Lift your legs, doll.”

You didn’t question him and raised your legs the same way you’d been earlier when you were stretching. Jack took them over his shoulders and lined his head up with your hole again, before thrusting back into you.

“You’re so pretty when you listen to me,” Jack hummed as he started rutting into you again.

You let out a breathy laugh, though it proved hard with the feeling of being so full. “I’m not all brat, as you’d put it.”

“I like when you behave. Should try it more often.”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, thought you both knew full well you wouldn’t.

Not if it ended in sex like this.

Jack pulled out of you, and for a second, you thought he was going to make you beg for his cock again. That is, until he was slamming back into you, getting lost in the feel of your pussy wrapped around his dick.

“Fuck, baby. You’re squeezing me so tight.”

“Jack,” you whimpered in return, your body ready to give into another orgasm. “I’m close again.”

“Yeah? Want me to—“

“No,”  you said instantly. Paired with him subtly shifting his hips back, you knew where this was going. And, quite frankly, the thought of him pulling out wasn’t a good one. “Cum inside me. Please? I want you to.”

Jack chuckled, thrusting back into you. “Jesus, sugar. Who knew you were such a dirty girl?” he said. He pushed in impossibly deeper, the tip of his dick hitting that sweet spot inside you. “You want this old man filling your pretty little pussy, huh? Fuck the consequences?”

“Fuck the consequences,” you repeated. “I want it.”

Jack didn’t deny you. He fucked into you like an animal, gripping your legs tightly as he slammed into your cunt. A familiar pleasure started to build in your lower belly, and you knew it wouldn’t be long now.

“Jack, fuck, faster!” you moaned. “Gonna cum for you, gonna cum, holyshit.”

“I’m right there with you, baby. I gotcha,” Jack groaned. You clenched around him hard at the reassurance, and before you knew it, you couldn’t hold back.

You came with a loud cry after a particularly harsh thrust into your pussy, soaking Jack’s dick with your juices. He wasn’t far behind you, cumming deep inside you only seconds later with what could only be described as a feral grunt.

“There’s my girl,” he cooed as he fucked you through it. “Take it like a good little slut.”

When you finally caught your breath—or enough to get a few words out, anyway—you looked up at Jack with a fucked-out expression. Sweat was sticking his gray curls to his forehead, and he looked just as dizzy as you.

“That was—“ you started, but you didn’t get to finish before Jack was suddenly flipping you over, pulling a surprised “Oh!” from your mouth. Without further warning, he bent you over with your ass up, running his hands over the flesh of your bottom.

“Jesus, Coach,” you said at the sudden action. “This another one of your stretches?”

“Always a fucking minx, aren’t you?” Jack tutted. He pushed your face down into the bed and pressed up behind you, his cock prodding and insistent between your cheeks.

“I’m not a—holyshit,” you moaned. You didn’t finish that sentence either, not before Jack was thrusting back into your oversensitive hole, setting a lethal pace.

Jack chuckled. “Yeah, not loud-mouthing now, are you, sugar?”

“T- Too s- soon!” you managed through a whimper, the overstimulation making you dizzy. You had said you liked him meaner, but you hadn’t expected this.

“Poor baby. Just a little more now, love, almost done,” Jack cooed like his fingers weren’t now gripping your hair, and the room wasn’t filled with the wet squelch made from him pounding into your poor pussy.

“Jack,” you whined, the sound muffled by the pillow he had your face in. “Feels. . .feels like. . .”

“Use your words, doll,” Jack commanded. “Feels like what?”

“L- Like I’m gonna pee,” you admitted embarrassingly.

Jack chuckled and didn’t let up, already knowing where this one was going. “Ain’t anything to be embarrassed about, sweetheart. S’gonna feel so good, promise.”

“What’s. . .what’s gonna. . .mmph!” you said with a final moan before you felt exactly what Jack was being so smug about.

The second Jack withdrew from your pussy, a stream of fluid involuntarily escaped you, promptly soaking the already ruined bed below you as well as Jack himself. He patted your bottom condescendingly as he watched you do it, muttering a satisfied, “There it is, doll. Let it out.”

“You’re so evil,” you muttered when all was said and done. You turned around to find a smiling Jack, who pulled you to rest flush against his front, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind.

You tried to ignore the feeling of his still-hard cock behind you as he returned, “Still got my golden girl back, didn’t I?”

You giggled and conceded, nodding in agreement. “Told you I could be her. Or whatever you want me to be,” you said. You laced your fingers through his curls, pulling him in for a sensual kiss.

Jack returned it eagerly, the gesture a sweet contrast to his rough treatment from before. “Yeah? ‘Cause after this sugar, you might have to be mine.”

You smiled at him. “I think I could live with that.”

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★ 1994.

you had been sitting in front of the mirror for what feels like an eternity. you know that’s normal when nerves are creeping in, but right now, after fantasizing – or dreading – this date for a whole week, it feels like something is off.

it happened at the pub, noel and liam had just finished performing when tom approached.

he was sweet. he was in the same class as one of your friends and he kept his hands where you could see them. he didn’t let liam’s loudness startle him – maybe noel’s stare a little. but oh well.

at the end of the evening, just as you were saying goodbye far too early and he had just come back from a smoke outside, he asked you out. he did it casually, mentioned a nicer pub down his street that had incredible fish and chips.

you said yes, part because you wanted to and part because you never really knew how to say no – your cheeks get warmer just at the thought of coming up with an excuse that sounds silly.

but right now, you were fidgety. your lipstick didn’t quite look right, the mascara looked clumpy and you think you might’ve overdone it with the blush. christ almighty.

and of course, noel wasn’t helping.

he stayed sat down – nearly laying – on your bed from the moment he walked inside your room, back rested on your headboard and some pillows, arm absentmindedly resting over some plushie toy he had mocked you for several times already, legs sprawled over the mattress.

he quickly realized that watching you fret over your reflection was quite amusing.

it’s a contrast no one really knew how to explain why the fuck it would work, you two. but it did.

noel had this annoying calmness over him. smugness, even – the kind that made him walk through the door of your house at the same time your mum was leaving for her night shift and not even tremble in his trainers with fear that she might realize he was off his tits.

eh. i chewed a piece of gum. put some cologne on to disguise the smell. the red eyes are just tiredness, miss. band’s beggining to take off right now, do you know what i mean? writing too many songs. oh yes, of course i can give your nephew a few guitar lessons, and don’t even fret, i wouldn’t dream of charging him.

at her playful words “take care of my girl” he gave her a charming smile alongside a polite nod that said when don’t i?

have a lovely shift!

while you were a pile of nerves, constantly. always worried of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, always overthinking and shaking like a scared little puppy just for correcting a wrong order at a new restaurant.

now wouldn’t be any different.

you were nervous for this date – terrified, really. your hands kept fumbling and knocking over little bits of makeup that clattered softly against the floor. you didn’t notice how many times you bent down to grab them, muttering “fuck sake” to yourself, cheeks already warm with frustration.

noel had to fight back a smirk every time you did, because what you hadn’t noticed either is that every time you’d bend down, the clumsy action would give noel first class seats to look at your new pair of lacy blue underwear.

yeah, yeah. he’s a prick. but you see, it seems like the weed he has smoked went straight to his cock rather than to his head. so much that, for the first time ever, he’s deeply considering actually making a move on his cute little girl mate.

you’ve done it five times by now. from the second one foward he’s been hard underneath his jeans. having to adjust himself every single time, even tilting his head to follow the way your skirt flaps up… and down.

he has noticed you’ve got a nice arse before. but christ… this is new.

he could tell you bought the pair just for tonight. he knows you won’t do anything, but still. it was there – that silent desire of finally understanding what all the fuss was about.

the thought made his cock stir inside his trousers once more. god, you’re so cute. so sweet. but at the same time, it made his jaw tighten. the thought of some boring prick getting to see that blue lace hugging that perfect ass? fucking unacceptable.

you’re not gonna do it with the lad, that’s for fucking sure. so… what kind of friend will noel be if he lets your precious money on these pretty pair of underwear go to waste? it would be a tragedy to let those knickers stay dry all night.

“what’s the lad’s name again?” he asked, tone unbothered.

you sighed shakily, shaking your head at your reflection and muttering out quietly, whispering exasperated. “doesn’t… fucking look right…” you talked about the eyeliner, completely ignoring noel’s question.

“oi. ‘m talking to ya,” noel called out. not rude, a little amused to be honest. he raised his brows and smirked faintly as you turned your head towards him, finally paying attention. “the lad’s name, love. what is it?”

you inhaled, already turning back to your reflection. “tom.”

noel scoffed. and before he could say anything, you cut in. “i know. but he’s… nice. he’s sweet, noel.” you said softly, tone dripping with sweetness despite the nerves.

he snorts at that, laying further back on the pillows with his neck slightly propped up so he could keep looking at you. he puts his arms behind his head as he winds you up. “he the king of england or summat?” he mutters. “know it’s your first date and all but, fuckin’ hell.”

you frown a little at his tone, glancing at him through the mirror. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“means you’re actin’ like it’s life or death. it’s a pint and some chips, not a bloody wedding.”

you huff softly, turning back to your reflection and immediately looking down at the table, makeup products scattered everywhere.

“it’s…” you cut yourself off with a soft sigh, putting the cap back onto your lipstick as an attempt to make this less embarrassing, “it’s not just that, noel...”

“what is it, then?” he presses in a little further, not mean. not curious, either, because he knows. of course he does. he just wants to hear you say it, he just wants you to give him his perfect cue.

you hesitate. and then, “i’ve never… never kissed anyone before.” quieter now, like you’re admitting something embarrassing.

he stays quiet for a second. like something’s just clicked into place, something he had already figured out was now being handed to him properly. his tongue presses into his cheek, tilting his head as his eyes drag over you in the mirror again.“that so, love?” he says, lowly.

you nod a little, already embarrassed, already looking down again, watching your fingers fiddle with the edge of your skirt. “yeah. it’s— i mean. it’s not a big deal.”

he doesn’t say anything else, he just keeps watching the back of your head. until your turn, eyebrows slightly scrunched together, hands on your lap picking at your rings.

“right?” you ask, quieter, needing him to confirm it, to tell you it’s not as nervewrecking as it suddenly feels.

his tongue darts out to lick his lips, a small effort to hold himself from smirking at the sight of you. your pretty face, your lips tinted with lipstick, the way you’re sitting there all unsure and soft and a little too trusting for your own good.

then he exhales lightly through his nose and tilts his head, patting the mattress – your mattress – beside him. “c’mere.”

your heart skips a beat. “what?”

“c’mere, love” he repeats, nodding once toward himself, like it’s obvious.

you hesitate, but not for long. because it’s noel, isn’t it? your noel. so you step forward, slow, until you’re standing right beside the bed, knees nearly brushing the mattress.

he reaches out, taking your hand like it’s the most natural thing in the world, his thumb warm and grounding as it glides over your knuckles. “well… that can’t happen, can it?” he says softly, a touch of thoughtfulness.

you furrow your brows softly, looking at his face while he gently holds your hand. “what can’t?”

“you goin’ out there like that, love” he says, like it’s a fact, giving your hand a small squeeze. “never been kissed, don’t know what you’re doin’… you’ll just embarrass yourself.”

you swallowed gruffly, because he’s just putting into words what you’ve been worried all along. “i— no-“

“you will,” he cuts in, even softer this time. “gonna freeze up. overthink it. lad’ll think you don’t fancy him.”

you falter. then you sigh, slowly plopping down and sitting right on the edge of the bed, the mattress sinking softly right beside him as he watches you.

his hand that’s holding yours drops until it’s resting on your lap, “s’okay. birdie…” he coos, letting go of your hand and caressing your thigh – reassuring, but he takes the opportunity to slip a finger under the hem of your skirt, like it’s accidental.

you’re so in your head you don’t even think too much about it. and it feels nice too…

“just… thought… about just— just going with it, you know?… see what happens…” you said quietly. you shifted your head so you could look at his eyes, but you didn’t quite meet his blue gaze back – too entranced by the sight of his hand sliding over your thighs, caressing it.

he gave your leg a soft squeeze, shaking his head. “nah, that’s rubbish, love…” he said lowly, still gliding his hand over your thigh, finally looking back at you like he was deeply concerned. “can’t have you goin’ out there clueless. not with a lad who doesn’t know you…” – he then did a little tsc with his tongue like he couldn’t stand at the thought – “that’s just not right. what if he tells his friends?”

your hands were shaking now, and he could tell if he pressed in a little further he could make you fucking cry. he won’t. not like this, at least. so he took your shaking hands into his, holding them gently.

“tell you what, though.” he says softly, like he’s offering you something harmless. “i’ll help you, yeah?”

you blinked at him, eyebrows furrowing softly as you watched him shift. he sat straighter up, his broad back properly resting against your headboard now, legs slightly spread in the way men’s always are.

before you could even process what he was implying, even before heat could flush up to your cheeks at the mere thought, noel’s hands slowly moved.

his grip on your hands tightens just slightly, guiding you forward until your knees pressed into the mattress and then – just as easily – he’s pulling you onto his lap, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“there we go…” he murmurs, voice low, pleased with himself in a way that makes your lower belly tighten.

your body stiffens over his lap. because you’re wearing a skirt, and you know your body, don’t you? you know that this, just this, will already get you wound up. right over his lap, with too little pieces of fabric to disguise.

“noel…” you start quietly, even try to shift away so it doesn’t get that embarrassing.

but his hands find your hips, over the fabric of your skirt. they’re big, so the smallest amount of steadiness from his palms keeps you right where you are, in the gentlest, warmest way. “shhh… hey, s’alright. just easier to snog like this, innit?” he says easily, thumbs brushing small patterns on your hips.

you swallow, hands going to his shoulders to steady yourself. your heart is racing now. too fast, too loud. you nod anyway, because he’s right. he always sounds right.

he nods softly. a small smirk tugs at the corners of his lips as his hand moves to your back, rubbing it in gentle wide circles, while the other one approaches your face. “relax, yeah?” he says, brushing your hair back from your face before settling back on your thigh.

you nod again, nervously looking down at yourself straddling his lap. your skirt has ridden up a little with the movement, and his hands are resting warm against your thighs, now knuckles underneath the hem as he brushes slow, absentminded patterns that don’t feel absentminded at all.

he smirks as he follows your gaze. his hands slide a little higher, just under the hem of your skirt, fingertips grazing skin that feels too sensitive all of a sudden. “cute skirt, y’know,” he adds casually, like that’s all.

“we’ll just… practice a bit. then you’ll know what you’re doin’, yeah?” he shifts under you as he says it, casually. the movement makes you inhale shakily, anyway. your hands tighten on his shoulders without thinking.

maybe it’s the thickness of his jeans.

you don’t really know what an erection feels like. not properly, so definitely not when it’s pressed right up against you with barely anything in between. but there’s something there. something firm, warm, twitching slightly every time either of you move, and it makes you swallow harshly.

your hips shifting just slightly, involuntarily, like you’re trying to adjust, or maybe trying to understand the feeling better.

noel nearly smirks at the sight, because he knows what’s going on down there. and of course you’d react like that, wouldn’t you?

he doesn’t adress it, though. not yet.

his hands slowly slide from the front of your thighs to the side of your hips, his fingertips brushing the soft skin of the ass he’s unapologetically been staring at for the last hour or so.

he leans in, slowly.

then, he whispers, “no rush, yeah? just… follow my lead.”

his breath brushes your lips as he says it. the delicious mixture of mint gum and weed and cigarettes makes you dumbly nod, involuntarily leaning in as an attempt to meet him halfway.

the kiss starts slow.

at first, it’s a press of lips followed by a soft breath leaving your nostrils. you’re not quite sure what to do next, thankfully, noel’s hand goes to the side of your face, gently resting over your cheek and his thumb lightly pressing down on your chin so you can open your mouth for his tongue.

when it does, you can’t really stifle a tiny moan in. because his tongue feels so soft against yours, slow and perfectly warm. it only makes him hum, pleased, like he’s just proven a point. his hand slides down to the side of your neck while the other stays over the soft skin of your hip, feeling your muscles tense underneath his touch – he can even feel the way you’re throbbing right over his clothed, warm erection.

the kiss turns a little wetter, messier despite still slow. quiet little sounds – of your tongues moving, of the tiny and wet sounds of your lips smooching, of your breath catching – fill the room in between your shaky inhales.

the soft sounds could be passed as something sweet and tender if your knickers hadn’t been ruined already. it would be romantic if noel didn’t really know what he was doing to you. if it wasn’t on purpose, but all of it is. every soft squeeze he gives your thighs are filled with intention, every accidental shift of his hips is purposely to add the tiny pressure that makes you clench around nothing.

your hands don’t really know where to go at first, hovering awkwardly before finally settling on him, gripping at his shoulders, then sliding up. the soft absence of his hair slips right between your digits.

he moans at the feeling of your hands sliding over his neck, his shoulders, his jaw…

you feel it like a fucking lightning. because your body reacts to everything, to every slow drag of his tongue and every heavy breath he lets out. it doesn’t take much before your hips twitch over his lap, a small, involuntary movement that gives you away completely.

noel pulls back just enough to look at you, and his lips – smudged with your lipstick and slick with spit – are already curling up into a smirk.

“what’s wrong?” he asks, voice low, amused. he already knows the answer.

your chest moves faster than usual, your eyes search for his but nothing comes out of your stammering mouth.

his hands slide down your thighs again, slow and deliberate. he caresses the skin under your skirt like it’s nothing. “d’you wanna stop?…” he adds, softer.

but he doesn’t wait for an answer. instead, he slowly leans in until his lips are on your neck.

your breath catches instantly, your eyes flutter shut and your hands wrap around his biceps like you’re holding on for dear life. because you don’t want to stop – you just don’t know what’s happening to you. you’ve never felt this aroused before.

he continues leaving wet and slow kisses along your skin. his nose brushes under your ear and he takes in the sweet scent of the perfume you’d put on for another lad – he smirks to himself, because right now, your body keeps reacting to him.

you try to say something, but it comes out broken.

he pulls away then, looking at your glassy eyes. his hand slowly shifts to your face, brushing your hair away as he watches you, like he’s not doing all of this on purpose. “d’you wanna stop, darling?” he asks again, like he doesn’t know the answer already.

you shake your head eagerly, “n-no… no…”

he raises his brows, gentle and mocking all at once. still smirking. “no?” he asks softly, shaking his head just like you, but slower.

“no… it’s… it’s okay. don’t… don’t have to stop, noel” you try to reassure him calmly, like your head isn’t spinning.

“yeah?…” he asks sweetly, leaning in and pressing another kiss to your lips. he feels you trying to slide your tongue inside his mouth again, but he doesn’t do it back – he just smirks against your lips and carries on. “why d’you get all nervous, then?”

your mouth opens, closes again. your breath is uneven as you try to come up with something, because how do you even say it? that if you even move an inch he’ll be able to hear how wet you are?

but noel shakes his head slowly, “s’okay, love…” he murmurs, voice low as his hands slide over your ass – caressing and grabbing it softly, slowly. “can feel it, y’know.”

you swallow, eyebrows pinching together for a moment as he drags you over his crotch. he just hums in response, leaning in again and saying it against your lips: “fucking soaked through, baby. no need to lie, is there?”

you breathe out his name, needy.

he gives you a soft kiss, gentle, almost like he feels bad. “poor birdie. don’t even know what to do with it, do you?” he says quietly, fondly.

your face burns instantly, breath catching as you shake your head just a little, more instinct than anything else. far too gone to realize that you’re full on admitting it.

he just coos you in response, nodding softly, “yeah… i know, i know…”

his hands grab your ass a tad firmer, pulling you closer and making you shift on his lap. he guides you forward, making you slowly rub yourself over his hard and warm cock strained underneath his jeans. he shows you that he’s equally as turned, like it’s just part of the lesson. “feel that?” he says, quieter now, almost amused.

you let out another tiny moan, a shaky one as your head dips forward, forehead resting on the side of his neck as you nod, shyly.

he exhales softly through his nose. “see? feelin’ it too. means you’re doin’ it right, yeah?” he adds. his hands slide again, almost lazy and a tad bolder as they caress your inner thighs now. “hard as fuck. jus’ for you.”

you breathe out his name, eyebrows furrowing just from how bad you want it. his fingers come up again, brushing lightly over your jaw, turning your face just enough so he can look at you properly.

your lipstick is ruined. your lips a little swollen from kissing. your eyes are glassy in that pretty pleading way.

he shakes his head, caressing your cheek. “look at you…” he murmurs, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip, smearing it just a little more. “can’t send you out like this, can i?”

you blink at him, dazed. “y-yeah?” you whisper.

“yeah, darling. can't go out like this… date won’t be any good if you're this worked up. you'll be distracted. wouldn't be fair to the lad, yeah? need to clear your head first.”

you stammer a little, but he’s quick to cut off any logic thing you might say – he’s your friend, you’ve got a date, you’ve never done this before… anything that might keep you from crossing the line you desperately want to.

“nah, love… s’alright… just gotta help you first, don’t i? lemme make you feel good, then you go to your lad. how's that sound, hm?"

it sounds logical in the hazy fog of his scent and the ache between your legs – especially when his mouth is back at your neck again, slow and warm and distracting.

you nod dumbly, trusting his shitty excuse because you simply don't know any better, and noel always seemed to know everything.

“y-yeah…” you breathe out.

“yeah? sounds good?” he asks softly, already sliding his palm upwards your inner thigh.

you nod eagerly, eyes glassy as you watch his face and the way he’s completely mesmerized by your needy expression. he’s mirroring your action and nodding back, nearly mocking and fully smug.

his finger press down your needy clit over the drenched fabric of your knickers, your hands immediately grasp his shoulders.

his brows furrow for a moment. “fuck… look how wet you are…” he says it lowly, nearly breathing it out, like he’s impressed and feels bad at the same time.

you moan as he starts circling your clit, eyes tightening shut as he drags out the pad of his fingertips over the slick fabric.

“n-noel… i…”

“what, hm?”

“please…”

he smirks at your plea, tipping his chin and saying lowly, “this ain’t enough f’you, hm?”

you let out a shaky huff, shyly shaking your head no. noel hums in response, leaning in to give you another slow kiss. his tongue drags warm and lazy against yours, and you melt into it immediately, hips pathetically searching for more of his touch.

then, his fingers slide underneath the lace. you break the kiss with a gasp, one that immediately becomes a moan. he presses a soft peck over your lips, the corner of your mouth – the fabric clinging to his knuckles doesn’t stopping him from circling your clit with a ridiculous precision you’ve only fantasized about.

“better?” he asks quietly, lips brushing yours again like he’s being gentle.

you nod desperately, your bottom lip feels a little sore from how much you’ve been biting it. he breathes out a tiny laugh at it, shaking his head once to himself as his gaze trails down your body.

his eyes land on your thighs spread for him right over his lap. your skirt is pushed up, allowing him to watch his fingers rubbing circles around your clit, the drenched fabric pulled to the side exposing you to him.

the wet and soft sounds of his fingers working your cunt make him lick his lips, tilting his head so he can even get a better look – furrowing his thick eyebrows nearly in pleasure just at the sight.

“such a pretty cunt you’ve got here, love” he praises, and his voice makes your head spin – tipping to the side without you even meaning to, eyes closing and lips agape as you softly pant.

he hums at your needy sounds, but his eyes stay fixed where you’re soaking his fingers. “mhm… look how wet it is…” he says nearly absentmindedly as he watches it attentively, like he wants to commit the sight to memory. “so pretty… looks so sweet…” he murmurs, lower now.

his free hand moves closer, his index and middle fingers spread your lips apart, his other hand still slowly stimulating your clit in gentle and precise circles.

“no one else has ever touched you here, yeah? just me, innit?” he asks barely above a whisper.

you shake your head, fast and eager and needy. he hums in response, slowly nodding like he’s almost proud of the fact. not pulling his eyes away from your cunt even for a second.

his two fingers rubbing your clit widen the motion, slowly, until they’re teasing right over your entrance – picking up the wetness you’re letting out and feeling you clench around nothing. but he didn't go in.

he just keeps teasing your needy opening. dragging down… and taking a little longer to go back to your clit again. then, he repeats like it’s nothing, like you’re not a whimpering mess already, nearly begging.

because he wants to hear it.

“please,” you breathe it out, whispered like you’re embarrassed by it. your head involuntarily shifts closer to him, lips accidentally bumping against his jaw. “noel… please. please, noel…”

he smirks, only then looking up. “what?… d’you want me to put it in?” he asks, breath warm against your lips. slowing down even more.

your breath stutters, and you nod eagerly. your hands clutch at the sides and back of his neck, forehead nearly pressing against his. “p-please,” you beg, and it comes out small, needy. breaking around the edges. “i’ve… i’ve done it myself. it’s okay, you can—”

he smirks even wider. his lips press against yours a little firmer now, his finger pushed in just enough to tease you, then away.

“yeah?” he says roughly, still quiet. his head tilts just slightly, eyes dragging over your face and taking in how you’re trying to not break the kiss. “you have, have you?”

you nod, fast, desperate. already dragging him for another kiss, panting a little harder.

then, he moves his hand away. the stammering protests die in your throat as he speaks, before you can chase his touch again.

“show me then.”

your heart drops. heat crawls up to your face so fast you feel like it could explode your head. “w-what?”

he keeps his eyes on your face when he takes your hand – his fingers gently wrapping around your wrist before you can even think about pulling away. he looks down to watch his hand guiding yours.

“show me how you do it when you’re alone, love” he murmurs, like it’s the most reasonable thing in the world.

you hesitate, eyebrows furrowing softly. he does a soft ‘tsc’ with his tongue, his thumb caressing your wrist while his other hand rests on your thigh, spreading them further on his lap. he tips his chin towards you softly, the way when he’s silently saying cmon.

“said you’ve done it before, sweetheart. let me see how you like it, hm?”

he can feel your hand shaking, he can see how you swallow roughly at his request and at how he’s not letting you back out in the gentle, softest tone.

you don’t pull away, you simply obey.

your hand trembles so violently it’s a miracle you can even find your own entrance, but the moment your own skin touches the slick, swollen folds of your cunt, a tiny sob catches in your throat.

he hums quietly as he keeps the gentle grip on your wrist, pushing your hand softly until your digit slips, so easily it feels like you’re doing it all on your own. you’re so wet it’s effortless, your hole greedily swallowing your finger as you start a slow pace.

it’s different when he’s watching – everything feels hotter, shameful and perfect all at once. and his voice, his hands, his smell… him. everything about it makes your head spin.

“that’s it…” he murmurs, almost under his breath, pleased. “good girl…”

his words makes your movements falter for half a second before picking back up again. your finger slides in and out so slowly it makes a gushy noise every time – one that’s like music to noel’s ears. you curl them softly every time you push in, but it’s not enough to reach your most sensitive spot.

his thumbs dig in softly in the flesh of your thighs every time a tiny moan slips out of you. noel’s eyes are blown wide, tracking every movement of your hand, lips parting as he watches.

he nods absentmindedly, not pulling his gaze away. he shifts one of his hand, pressing his palm over the aching bulge that’s formed inside his trousers, while his other thumb keeps brushing soft patterns on your inner thigh.

“how many, hm?” he asks quietly, voice dipping lower as his head tilts slightly, eyes dragging back up to your face. “how many fingers have you put in, hm?”

you whimper softly, clenching around your own finger and closing your eyes as you furrow your brows, shyly. “noel…”

his hand resting on your inner thigh moves until the pad of his thumb presses over your clit. you gasp at the feeling, head tipping back and the words escaping before you can even realize.

“t-fuck. one… one, noel”

“yeah, love? just like that, then, yeah?” he asks softly, still drawing slow circles on your clit as your own finger slides in and out. you nod, desperately – his other hand immediately shifting to the button of his jeans at the sight.

his thumb keeps moving as he slowly drags his own zipper down. like he’s in no rush at all.

“and what d’ya think about, hm?” he murmurs, voice low.

your breath hitches, your head shakes faintly, more instinct than anything else.

“course you do, love,” he cuts in softly before you can even try to deny it. his thumb presses just a little more firmly, enough to make another moan catch in your throat again. “everyone does…”

your head drops foward, face now buried on the side of his neck as your hips stutter. he smirks to himself, turning his head enough to whisper right in your ear.

“what d’you think about when you’re fingering your pretty cunt, hm?"

your lips part, and his name slips past them in a soft, broken moan that makes his mouth twitch. it makes him nod, smug and satisfied. like he’s praising you for giving him the correct answer.

“mhm… that’s it” he praises softly. his hand slides up the back of your neck, his fingers are firm and tender all at once as they thread into your hair, guiding your mouth back to his.

and yet again, you’re too deep in the feeling of his tongue on yours to even form a coherent thought. to even keep moving your finger inside yourself. all you notice is him shifting underneath you, his hips lifting off the mattress just so he can drag his trousers down, enough to free his leaking and hard cock.

his hand in your hair tightens just enough to pull you back, breaking the kiss before you can chase it again.

you whimper softly at the loss, mouth slightly agape, breath uneven. he gives you a soothing peck on your parted lips, then the corner of your mouth.

then, his grip shifts, guiding your chin downward so you can see his hand wrapped around his cock, stroking it slowly.

it looks intimidatingly real in the dim light – his tip is flushed and leaking, the soft hairs on his crotch make you start moving your finger inside yourself cunt again, and the way he’s touching himself right now makes you let out a shaky moan.

he’s fucking big, too. not that you have someone else’s to actually compare to, but you’re aware that that’s the “a lot” your girlfriends talk about once they’re sharing their sex experiences in between class breaks.

it makes your head spin in nerves and excitement all at once.

the soft, shaky breath you let out seems to make him stroke himself with a little more intent. he lets out a low moan at the friction just to make you loose it a bit more. his fingers tighten in your hair without even meaning to, and he doesn’t move your head even an inch, because he wants you to watch – just like he’s been doing to you for the past few minutes. your fingers curling in and out like you don’t know what to do with them anymore.

he raises his brows in mock innocence at your reaction, like he didn’t even see it coming. like he has no idea what it’s about.

fuck me, if the birds he’s slept with had that reaction and they aren’t even virgins, he can only imagine what you’re gonna be like once his cock is fucking you relentlessly.

he’s no monster – he’s a prick, sure. but he’ll start slow, right? he’ll make sure you’re soaked like this once he slides in. he’ll only pick up the pace once you beg for it, and he knows you will. he knows you’ll look so pretty doing it, too. even prettier than now, and that’s fucking hard to top. he strokes himself faster at the mere thought.

“what?… look how hard i am, love,” he says, coyly and quieter, enough to make your stomach flip. “hurts, y’know.”

and before you can think too much about it, he’s guiding your hand away from your dripping cunt. you whimper softly at the absence of stimulation, but then, he’s making you wrap your hand around his own length. "do it f’me, darlin’. help me out, will you?"

his hand is over yours, both wrapped around his cock as he strokes up and down slowly. like he’s showing you something rather than asking.

you watch it like you’re hypnotized. how pretty his slit looks with pre cum smeared all over it, how the heat and the velvet-soft skin feel good underneath your touch. you start to stroke him on your own, his hand slowly letting go of yours as you mimick the way he just taught you.

noel lets out a moan deep from the back of his throat, moving his hands until they’re grabbing your inner thighs a little firmer now at the pleasure. “there we go…” he says softly, watching your hand work him. “fuck, darling…”

you pick up your gaze until it’s on his face again, being met with the sight of his lips slightly parted, blue eyes glued to your hand stroking him up and down. you furrow your brows softly at it, swallowing down a tiny whimper as you involuntarily shift on his lap, searching for any friction you can get.

and just like he could read your mind, one of his hands leave your thigh. he brings two fingers to his own mouth, wrapping his lips around the thick digits, swirling his tongue around them enough to make them slick. then, he guides them to your neglected pretty entrance.

he pushes two fingers in without any resistance. you let out a shaky moan, head dipping forward and grip tightening around him as you try to steady yourself. you moan his name, broken and needy – not from pain, because you’re so wet right now you feel like you could take all of him without batting an eye.

he hums at that. smug and pleased, but his hips twitching upwards tell on him, that he’s fully loosing it just like you. “that’s it, love… fuck. do it f’me and i’ll do it for you, yeah?” he adds. his tone is coaxing, but the roughness in his voice makes you clench around his fingers without even meaning to.

your breath stutters, movements turning uneven for a second before trying to find some kind of rhythm again. you’re clumsy and still a little shy, but the way you’re looking at him, feels like you’re fucking begging for it.

he curls his fingers inside you, the angle is a little awkward in between limbs moving sloppily and needy – but he gets it right. it makes you moan the loudest than you have so far, eyes falling shut and eyebrows furrowing as his thumb finds your clit at the same time his thick fingers slowly fuck you.

your hand starts working him faster, needier. your free one digs into the curve where his neck meets his shoulder, sliding to the back of his neck like you’re fully loosing it.

he smirks at your reaction, nodding to himself and grunting lowly every time his hips meet your hand. every time, the filthy wet sounds of his fingers fucking you get even louder.

you start babbling his name, and he taunts you with a “yeah?” that neither of you know what it’s referring to. you nod dumbly anyway, breath hitching as you try to follow his pace, try to match him, even though everything feels too much already.

your body shakes over his from pleasure and from movement of him fucking your hand. it doesn’t stop him from leaning closer, his free hand tugging the cut from your top down until your breasts are exposed to him – he closes the distance sloppily, greedy as his mouth latches onto your nipple, widely swirling his tongue around it and sucking it. your nails dig into the back of his neck, searching for something to hold onto as the feeling keeps tightening.

you choke out a moan that’s nearly a cry, head tipping back and lips parting as you pant. “fuck… n-noel… i… oh my god, noel…” you blabber, hips now grinding against his palm.

he keeps thrusting into your hand, only pulling his mouth off from your tits to moan against your mouth, tongue sloppy and uncoordinated as he swallows your moans. “gonna cum f’me?” he murmurs, teeth grazing your flushed lips.

you nod, desperately.

“c’mon then. such a tight fucking cunt, baby. want it all over my hand, yeah? cum all over my fingers, cmon.” he grunts.

with a last curl of his fingers, a last press of his thumb right over your sensitive bundle of nerves, you came undone. 

fucking hard, you did. your moans now sounding nearly pornographic as you squeeze noel’s fingers so hard he even doubts for a second that he’ll be able to play guitar for the next couple of days. 

eh, he wouldn’t really mind. 

you threw your head back, mouth falling agape and needy broken moans escaping. your breath was coming out shaky, hitching. little high pitched whimpers filling the room, mixing the wet and gushy sounds of noel’s fingers fucking your cunt relentlessly. 

he watched, chin propped up so he could look up and take every bit of your reaction. your free hand slid up the back of his neck desperately, in need to grab onto something or you’d might die from how intense it all felt. 

he smirked at the realization – nothing there anymore, is it? he buzzed it right off. 

he remembers last week, when he’d just arrived at the pub with the new haircut. your reaction was adorable, stuttering as you realized how fucking fit your mate, your best friend, looked. even while tom chatted you up, he could catch your nervous gaze snap back to him.

pfft, what a fucking joke, this tom lad. if he thought that was bad, imagine now, eh?

your nails digged in his scalp, his lips curled into a smug smirk parting enough so a low moan could escape. 

your hand went limp around him, unable to keep up. but he doesn't mind. he covers your hand with his own, his hard cock messily sliding upwards into your shaky grip as he watched your orgasm wash over. he thrusts one, two, three more times into your palm until he spills over, too.

hot spurts of his cum land right over the fabric of your cute skirt, over the soft skin of your thigh and knuckles. 

his chest heaves, forehead dropping to rest against your neck. only then his fingers finally stop. he feels you pulsing around them for a few more seconds. his free hand rests over your ass, sliding up your back as your body trembles over his.

after a few seconds of your heavy breaths being the only thing filling up the room, noel slowly withdraws his fingers out of you. the wet sound echoes in the silence, a tiny over sensitive whimper from you make him breathe out a tiny laugh despite himself.

“fuck me…” he breathes out. then, he pulls away to look down at the mess. his brows raise in amusement, his smirk grows even wider. “ruined that.”

you don’t adress it. fuck me indeed, the house could burn down now for all you care.

“noel…” you say again, softer this time. needy and shy from how much you want it. you’re still breathing hard, still shaky, still clinging to him like you don’t quite know how to ask for it.

his eyes flick back to yours, and he looks so pleased. so smug.

he only raises his brows, like he’s saying go on.

your hands slide up the back of his head, nearly apologetic for the mess you’re making. but you just shake your head as you lean closer, eyes glassy and pleading as you give him a soft kiss on the mouth.

“don’t…” your voice falters as you say it quietly against his lips. “please, noel… i don’t wanna stop…”

you feel him smiling against your mouth, his hands shifting until they’re back on your ass again. he slowly squeezes the soft flesh, barely kissing you back and breathing out into the slow glide of your tongues. “yeah?… don’t wanna stop, hm?”

you shake your head, quick and needy, your fingers still curled at the nape of his neck, keeping him close.

he hums softly, still tracing patterns on your hips and ass. he nods a little, then looks down. “i mean... that’s fucking done for, that.” he murmurs. not sounding sorry in the slightest, still smirking. “shame. y’looked dead pretty in it.“

you don’t even argue, you just lean in again, pressing another soft, desperate kiss to his mouth, like that’s your answer. like you don’t care about anything else anymore.

his hands tighten slightly on your ass at that, grounding and unapologetic all at once. “easy…” he coos, quieter now, nose brushing yours. “gotta sort that date out first, yeah?”

you whine, eyebrows furrowing and your lips nearly shifting into a needy pout. “noel…”

"gonna give it to ya, love... just be a good girl and call the poor lad, yeah?” he says, nearly buttery from how soft it is – it makes you want him to ruin you even more.

“now?…” you ask quietly, blinking up at him.

“yeah, now.” he says softly, brushing your hair out of your face. “can't have him standing there outside the pub like a fucking muppet, can we?“

you take in a shaky breath, nodding. he nods back, giving your ass tiny encouraging pats, watching you slowly shift off from his lap.

you lick your lips as you lay down on your stomach, propping yourself on your elbows so you can reach for the telephone and punch in the digits.

your heart is still hammering inside your chest when it starts ringing. you swallow gruffly, because you feel noel’s hand caressing your calf – a soft reminder that he’s very much still watching.

“hello?”

“t-tom?…”

“oh, hey. was about to leave the house, actually. you’re on your way t—“

“tom, i… i’m sorry. i think i’ve come down with something.” you said shakily, the air leaving your nostrils as you heard noel shifting behind you and the soft thud of his shirt falling on the floor.

your eyes were closed as tightly as your hand around the phone, listening to tom's unenthusiastic and nearly confused "oh." on the other line.

you couldn't see how noel was still smirking – his mouth still stained with your lipstick as he slowly settled more comfortably on the mattress, sitting on his heels right between your legs.

"well... what... are you feeling? are you alright?" tom asked.

you took in a deep breath so you could reply without your voice breaking. but just then, you felt noel's hands unhurriedly guide you until your knees were deep inside the mattress, ass arched up until you were perfectly exposed to him in a way that made your cheeks burn.

"i'm... i'm okay. i'm just... i have a really bad fever."

"right..." tom answered after a pause. "that's... well, that’s unfortunate."

"yeah." you swallowed.

behind you, the mattress dipped again. noel's hands settled on your asscheeks, lifting the fabric of your skirt until it was out of the way – he let out a low groan at the sight of the delicate fabric drenched, clinging onto your folds.

your forehead pressed deeper against the mattress as you felt him gently apply pressure over the fabric, drawing out torturous wide and slow circles over your clothed cunt, feeling your wetness cling onto the pad of his fingers. "i know, i... i'm really sorry." you added, but it came out broken.

tom didn't notice, apparently. "we can go out another night, if you want."

"yeah— that... yeah. that's alright." you managed, though your voice came out quieter than intended.

tom started talking about another place the two of you could go to, but behind you, noel leaned closer.

your whole body tensed with the sensation of his warm breath brushing such a sensitive spot, and the fever was about to become real once you felt the tip of his nose rubbing up and down your folds, hands gripping your flesh harder at your scent and his mouth watering from how wet you were.

your hand immediately flew to your mouth, covering a shaky and breathy gasp, coming out broken while tom talked about another restaurant down his street, a fancier one. you couldn't name what kind of food they served there even with a gun pressed on your temple, because the pressure of noel's nose was maddening.

and as if it couldn't get any worse, or better, his tongue slowly darted out – leaving a wet, slow and messy kiss right over your knickers. like the mess your own arousal made on the fabric wasn't enough.

a small tear formed on the corner of your eye, the hand covering your mouth shaking as you tried to keep quiet. noel hummed quietly against your clothed cunt, not even pulling his mouth away as he hooked his finger into the edge of the lace, pulling the fabric aside just enough to expose you.

you gasped softly, feeling his warm mouth pull away only an inch so his blue eyes could settle on your cunt. glistening and already puffy from his fingers, but still aching and throbbing for more.

"well... get some rest, yeah? hope you feel better." tom said on the phone.

your fuzzy brain could only think of an "okay" as a response, but noel's tongue leaning closer and slowly licking your clit cut you off immediately with another shaky gasp, making you instantly press your palm harder against your mouth.

you clenched around nothing, brows needily furrowing and back arching despite your cheeks heating up. at how dirty all this felt. at how his tongue was completely unhurried as it teased you, the intention clear: he wanted you to fall apart.

now, his lips slowly closed around your clit, softly sucking while his hands fondled your shaky thighs.

"sure you're okay?" tom asked, nearly concerned.

"yes! i... yeah. i'm sorry, tom. i'll... yeah, i'll get better. i'm so sorry." you stammered, and you could feel noel smiling against you, pulling away with a soft wet noise and guiding his fingers closer to your entrance. they didn't slide in, just applied enough pressure to spread your lips, watching how your needy hole dripped for him. just for him.

"it's alright. see you soon, then." tom said.

"o-okay... bye." you said quickly, immediately biting your bottom lip since you didn't trust yourself to keep quiet once your shaky hand placed the phone on its handle. fast, clumsy and desperate.

at the sound of the soft plastic thud indicating the call was finally over, your face buried inside the mattress. a small amount of drool smeared over the soft cotton sheets past your parted lips.

you let out a long and broken whine, muffled into the mattress as your hips helplessly twitched against his hands.

“there’s a good girl,” noel murmured, his voice dropping. he didn't give you a second to catch your breath as his two fingers, still slick with you, stretched you open with a deliberate push.

you bucked against his hand, a sharp gasp cutting through the quiet bedroom as your fingers tightly grasped the bedsheets. "noel..." you moaned his name needily.

he breathed out a small chuckle at your tone. “fucking hell, look at you,” he muttered under his breath, nearly amused.

even as he straightned his back, properly placed behind you now, his eyes never left your entrance swallowing his digits, you were so fucking wet taking him wouldn't even be that big of a problem. his thumb found your swollen clit as he thought, pressing down with a soft pressure that had your voice breaking into another needy whimper.

“so wet for me. didn't think it'd be this easy.”

“noel— please, noel,” you cried out, muffled by the soft bed. your back arched helplessly, trying to push yourself deeper onto his hand, silently begging for him to stop teasing.

he only hummed in response, a cruel and pleased sound, before his hand shifted.

his palm rubbed your back upwards before it settled on the nape of your neck, fingers tangling inside your hair. he tugged your head back until his mouth was right by your ear, gluing your back onto his chest, firm and tender all at once.

“drivin’ me fucking mad, love.” he breathed out, teeth grazing your earlobe and the delicate earring dangling, while his breath – hot and ragged – made goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.

your hand shook as it reached out for his hip, nails involuntarily digging in as you felt and heard the distinct rustle of fabric behind you from his free hand shoving his pants down to his thighs.

he placed a gentle kiss on your cheek, despite his fingers tigthening inside your hair. “just needed to stretch y'out first, don’t i?” he whispered in your ear.

whatever words were sitting on your tongue died as soon as his hand wrapped around his cock, shifting closer until his shaft was directly pressed against you, sliding and teasing up and down your soaking wet folds without actually pushing in.

the friction made your breath hitch, softly crying out. “please… fuck, please.”

he let out a low and breathy laugh, teeth grazing your cheek softly as a smirk grew on his lips. "i know. i know, darling." he cooed, nearly condescending.

he only looked down to watch his cock sliding underneath the edge of your panties, his length perfectly fitting between your glistening lips – amused at the sight, slowly pushing his hips to make his cock slide between your folds without actually pushing in.

the feeling of his sensitive head brushing the damp lace made him hiss softly, but he didn't stop. “d’you want it?” he asked quietly, nibbling your jaw.

you couldn't even form a coherent word, brain entirely fried. you just moaned loudly, nodding your head frantically despite his firm grip inside your hair.

his hand sharply met the flesh of your ass, catching you off guard and pulling out a high-pitched moan from you.

“ask nice,” he commanded, firm. but his mouth placed another sweet kiss on your cheek right after. his hand went down to where your bodies almost met, pressing his palm firmer against his cock so the friction felt meaner. "c'mon, love. can do better than that, hm?"

you nodded desperaly, the words stumbling out of your mouth. “please, noel… please fuck me.” you sobbed, a stray tear spilling.

“think it’s too big f’ya, love. don’t y’think?” he taunted, gaze dropping past the curve of your spine, watching his length dissapearing underneath the fabric, sliding between your folds and coming out glistening with your arousal.

you shook your head desperately. “can— can handle it. want it. please, please…” you choked out in a broken whimper.

another wet kiss on your cheek, another harsh squeeze on your ass. "yeah?" he teased quietly,

you whimpered in protest as he pulled his warm cock away from you. but then, his hands guided you back into all fours, slowly and firmly.

your fingers immediately grabbed the sheets in anticipation. your forehead pressed into the mattress, tears softly wetting the cotton as your back arched even more.

you couldn't see it, but a smug smirk grew on his lips at the sight, not pulling his gaze away even when his hands were busy reaching for his wallet. a soft crinkling sound of a foil wrapper tearing open made you look behind you.

his palm settled on your ass again, sliding underneath the messy hem and caressing your skin, gentler now. his free hand rolled the rubber along his shaft, head tilting. “think y’can take my cock like this, hm?” noel muttered.

you didn't really know what the reply was, not rationally, at least. but you nodded anyway, swallowing gruffly despite wanting him so bad you thought it might kill you.

then, his hands slowly hooked into the waistband of your panties. he dragged them down your shaking thighs slowly, watching a thick, glistening trail of wetness visibly connecting your swollen folds to the fabric, the elastic strained around your knees.

the cold air of your room clashed against your skin, making your head feel even fuzzier.

your head tilted to the side, cheek resting over the mattress and eyes immediately landing on some stuffed animals already scattered over the bed, breath hitching. then, you looked at him behind you, eyebrows furrowed in such a needy way it made him physically remember himself to take it slow.

he let out a low, breathy laugh at your reaction. "i know," he whispered, reaching over to grab the small plushie sitting on the corner of the bed. he turned it around with a smirk so its beaded eyes faced the wall. "there. don't need 'em watching, do we."

hovering over you, with his hand wrapped around his cock and guiding himself towards your entrance, he stared down at the view and swore to himself he’d never seen a cunt so wet before, or a bird that’s begged so pretty like you.

he guided the heavy head of his cock right to your untouched entrance, pausing for a second to look at your face before he slowly pushing in. his mouth leaned down closer to your cheek the second you gasped softly at the stretch – a low grunt escaping from his lips at your cunt fluttering around him, so fucking wet it nearly sucked him in.

but he still pushed in slowly. agonizingly slow. a needy sound caught in your throat, vision going white as your body naturally clamped down around his length.

he grunted as his hips slowly slid in.

“look at you takin’ my cock, baby,” noel choked out, his head dropping into the crook of your neck as he pushed through the nearly absent resistance, filling you completely. “fuck." – he kissed your pulse point – "fucking made for it.”

he let you adjust, his hands slid up from your hips, smoothing over the arch of your spine and soothing your back, "good?" he murmured against your skin, checking in.

you couldn't even form a syllable. you just choked out a breathless whimper, nodding against the mattress as your fingers digged deeper into the sheets. you were stretched so fucking full, the smeared mascara underneath your eyes smudging the duvet.

he let out a low, rough laugh, pleased with the pathetic sound you made. "fuck," he breathed out, amused. "doesn't hurt?"

you just whimpered in response, squirming underneath his weight pressed over your back. his free hand moved closer to your face, elbow propping himself up and palm meeting your cheek in two light taps. "hey, don't go all dumb on me, c'mon."

you inhaled, coming in a hitched breath. you shook your head softly, "just... it's okay."

"sure y'alright?" he asked again. his crotch was still firmly pressed against your asscheeks, fully inside you now.

"please." you whispered, broken and needy.

he breathed out a laugh, amused. his palm craddled your face and his thumb brushed over your bottom lip.

"fucking hell, please what?" he asked quietly, leaning in and kissing your lips even though you couldn't fully kiss him back, not when you were still getting used to the fullness.

his lips bumped into his own thumb, taking in a deep breath and feeling his cock twitch at the feeling of your tongue fully loose and fully dumbed down against his. "please fuck you, that it?" he whispered against your mouth, his free hand gripping your hip harder.

you gave another needy nod, your ass arching instinctively, silently begging.

he smirked, despite feeling his cock throb inside you, equally as needy. "yeah?" noel muttered.

you whimpered, tongue brushing the pad of his finger, eyes looking up at him even glassier than before. needier. “please, fuck me…”

at your plea, he straightening his back with a rough moan, his palms properly positioned you back into all fours.

and then he pulled back. the friction of his condom-clad cock dragging against your tight walls made your vision blurry, a sharp sob tore from your chest as you felt the loss of his warmth close to you. but before you could even process the emptiness, he drove back in. slow and heavy, bottoming in again.

"god, fuck." he groaned, hips grinding heavily against your ass. his blue eyes watching the way you took him so pretty. "wish you could see it. fucking swallowing me."

the mental image made your skin burn, a hot flush spreading over your face and neck as he pulled out, slowly, only to push in again with the same depth.

"so fucking tight," he breathed out, hands grabbing your hips harder and pulling you back into him – the sounds of his hips slapping your flesh making everything feel dirtier, the wet sounds of his cock stretching you out making you whimper helplessly. "gonna milk me fucking dry before i even get a proper go, aren't ya?"

the pace was excruciatingly slow, he held onto a steady rhythm like he didn't trust himself to fully let go. the feeling had you weeping into the mattress, shaky and needy moans escaping your lips with every thrust.

you didn't know what it was like at a fast pace, all you knew is that you needed more. all you knew was that the pain already faded away.

you wanted him to do whatever he wanted, sure that it would be exactly what you needed.

“noel— please, noel, want... fuck, more.” you babbled.

he leaned down, “i know, love. i know,” he cooed. his teeth gently grazed your neck met your shoulder. the sting only added to the feeling of his hips finally picking up the pace. “look at you, taking all of it and already begging for more, christ.”

before you could ask for anything else, his hand reached out to yours, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist and guiding it between your legs. "rub yourself f'me, sweetheart. can you do that?" he instructed gently, nibbling your earlobe and smirking against it the second you gasped at the new friction.

as his back straightened again, hands tight on your hips, your fingers just followed his lead, sloppily rubbing circles around your clit.

the action immediately made you pulse harder around him, reaching an unbearable amount of pleasure. his deep strokes were hitting you perfectly, and the friction against your swollen bundle of nerves made your entire body shiver.

you began clench around his shaft in tight, helpless pulses. your needy moans getting so loud not even the mattress could muffle them properly anymore.

behind you, noel let out a low string of curses, large hands pulling your hips back into him. his eyes were stuck on his cock dissapearing inside you, slick with your wetness every time he pulled out just to drive himself back in faster.

“fuck, that’s it,” he grunted lowly. he began to fuck you heavily and fast, watching you squirm underneath him – fingers helplessly speeding up as you felt the tightness in your belly tighten.

the loud and wet sounds of his cock splitting you open and your sweet moans made him throw his head back in pleasure.

“already fucking coming, aren’t ya?" – he picked his gaze up again, not bearing the thought of not watching you underneath him – "squeeze it tight, love. fuck, cmon. that's it.”

you screamed his name into the mattress, your whole body shaking as your orgasm crashed like a tidal wave. noel himself wasn't far behind, with one last deep thrust, hot spurts of his cum spilled inside the condom, his head tipping back with a low moan as his hips stuttered.

neither of you moved for a couple of minutes – your body collapsed softly over the bed and his followed, chest over your back, keeping you pinned and ruined beneath him. all you could do was pant and feel your limbs softly shake.

noel was the first one to snap out of the sirupy athmosphere inside your bedroom. his forehead pressed softly over your shoulderblade as he cursed softly under his breath, eyes closing tightly shut with a small hiss as he slowly pulled out, steadying the condom around him with his fingers.

your immediate instinct was to hide, legs curling up softly while he sat down on the mattress, hands busy with tying the condom.

no one really talked about this part, where you have to figure out what the hell you're supposed to say with a head still fuzzy from your first ever earth-shaterring orgasm.

luckily, his eyes landed on you.

and then, he broke into a tiny and breathy laugh, settling himself beside you, hand reaching out towards your face and pushing the messy hair out of the way. "what? cat got your tongue or summat?"

that made you relax again, eyes closing and lips softly curling up. "stop that."

he laughed quietly, letting his hand linger on the side of your neck.

"i probably look crazy now." you said quietly, referring to the mess around your eye lids.

he broke into another quiet laugh again, shaking his head. "look pretty, yeah? don't fret." reaching out, thumb brushing over your bottom lip, picking up the smudged tint of your lipstick on the pad of his finger. your eyes closed, still smiling softly despite it all.

"you okay?" he asked quietly, head finally clear enough to snap back into the gentle noel you were familiar with. you nodded in response, he hummed softly at it. pleased and tired. "was it good for you?"

your eyes opened at it, eyebrows furrowing in that suspicious way that immediately made a weary expression settle on his face. "what?" he asked quietly.

you scoffed lightly, "you just wanna hear me say it."

he laughed, finally catching on. then, he shrugged, playful now. "maybe." he said, you hummed, wore out – he noticed, another huff of a laugh immediately escaped him. "cmon, let's get you cleaned up."