Jonas Brothers' Dirty Minded Girls

Becoming Reality

2010-02-08T02:53:00.000-08:00

Hey, guys, I know it's been ages. I'm so sorry! I'm slowly trying to start writing again, so I'm also sorry if this lacks a certain ~pizazz~ I used to have. ♥

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The dress:

+++

When Jen gets home, she isn’t entirely sure how to react. Her apartment has a faint layer of fog emanating from the kitchen and for a moment, she thinks she forgot to turn off the stove before leaving for class. Despite the spike in her heart rate, she does not try to move; she cannot.

“Bug, is that you?”

A voice calls for her from the kitchen, but it sounds further away than it should. She recognizes the voice and that in itself is enough reason for her to walk towards the source of the smoke. Coughing just a little, Jen fans away some smoke as she walks down the short hallway and makes sure to open the patio door to let the air filter out.

“Joseph.” His name comes out in more of a sigh than anything else.

When the kitchen comes into her field of view, she has to stop and take a mental picture. Her jaw drops slightly, her eyes skimming the small area of space that has a two-burner stove and a pathetic excuse for a refrigerator. She almost frowns; her boyfriend, a man who is used to hotel rooms as big as her entire apartment, seems like a giant in a miniature dollhouse.

“Bug! I wanted to surprise you.” He does not look at her, but continues to stir whatever it is he is making in a saucepan. The smell is overwhelming; there is the usual thick scent of gravy with a hint of frosting accompanying it. Jen almost laughs, but stops at a smile; she thinks it is embarrassing that she just knows the smell of frosting.

Finally, she realizes that this is more than just her boyfriend making a surprise visit. He should be halfway around the world right now.

“What are you doing here? How did you get inside my apartment? When did you get here? Why are you cooking? What—”

“Whoa,” Joe laughs. “That’s enough questions for now, Quizmaster. I’m cooking because I know my girlfriend is a total foodie; I got here sometime after you left for your film history class; I have a key because, like a creeper, I had one copied when you first moved in; and finally, I am here—” He sets the spoon down on a paper towel and looks at her, a stain of flour on his cheek, “—because I need to be.”

“What are you talking about?” Jen’s tense shoulders fall when she hears his answers. “I thought you guys were doing some benefit concert in Zurich or something. You told me you wouldn’t be home for Christmas.”

Joe grabs the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder and wipes the remnants of flour from his hands, taking slow steps towards Jen with a crooked smirk on his face. He sets his hands on her shoulders and leans forward, pressing a kiss to the apple of her right cheek.

“Yeah, um, that was a little lie.”

Incredulous, her eyes widen and her jaw falls lower as she swats his bicep with an open hand. She watches him wince and hides a smile, flicking his shoulder for added effect.

“You liar!”

“Well, it’s not like I was going to tell you, ‘Oh hey, Jenbug, I’m going to surprise you with dinner and dessert on Christmas Eve - be surprised!”’ That wouldn’t have elicited this reaction - look, you’re blushing!”

She has to smile, then. She feels the heat on her cheeks and touches the back of her hands to her face, the warmth comforting her frozen fingers. When Joe reaches for the scarf around her neck and unravels it, she feels the chill running along her spine.

“Plus,” he whispers with the scarf between his fingers, pressing his lips to her collarbone, “I wanted to show you that I can cook without anyone’s help. Which, oh yeah, I totally can.”

“What are you cooking?” she asks, pulling away from him with bright, excited eyes. “It actually smells good.”

Jen walks to the stove and tries to peer into a pot, but is shocked when Joe yells “No, not yet!” and runs to stand between her and the still-cooking dishes.

“Are you serious?” she asks, wanting to laugh at the serious expression on his face.

“Yes,” he replies quickly. “Now, go take a shower and change because I know you’re tired after taking the last of your final. I want tonight to be special, so I need you to be as comfortable as possible.”

When he stops to finally take a breath, Jen finally breaks. She laughs, throwing her head back with a large grin on her face. She hugs him, her fingers tugging lightly on the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Joseph, I love you.”

He sighs, breathing her in as he presses his lips to hers for a short moment. Just as quick as it happened, it is over.

“Now, go.”

Letting out another laugh, she nods her head and does as he says.

+++

When she steps out of the steaming shower, Jen notices the smell of the meal has gotten even stronger. She stops to inhale and lets a smile rest on her lips, appreciating the work she knows Joe put into the surprise.

She tightens the towel around her body, letting her hair lay damp against her shoulders as she runs quickly from the bathroom to her room. After she shuts the door behind her, it doesn’t take long to see the dress bag Joe set on her bed.

“Yes, you have to wear that!” she hears him say from the kitchen. It is like he can read her mind, regardless of the distance between them. Excited, she unzips the bag and a breath catches in her throat.

The dress is a beautiful strapless that she assumes would reach just above her knees. The peach satin peeking through the black lace over the bust of the dress shines against the light coming from her reading lamp, and she traces the intricate designs as well as the satin sash that wraps around the torso.

The chiffon that makes up the dress’s skirt makes her laugh; she remembers telling Joe that frilly dresses make her feel like a rockstar. The chiffon is tiered, giving the dress an even fancier look. She shuts her eyes, imagining what his face must have looked like as he chose it in the store.

“That one,” she is sure he said. “It’s perfect.”

And it is.

+++

By the time he hears Jen call for him, Joe is done setting the table with candles and a small bouquet of white roses he prepared himself. He brushes his palms on his dress pants, pausing for a moment to curse himself for doing it. When he hears heels click against the linoleum, he turns around and stops to see Jen leaning against the entry to the kitchen and he is sure that the world, for at least a millisecond, has stopped spinning on its axis.

“Jen,” he breathes, his eyes glistening, “I would say that you’re beautiful, but I don’t think that even begins to cover it.”

He rolls his eyes when she starts to list off reasons why she shouldn’t be wearing something like this.

“But my arms! I hate them, and this dress is beautiful, but my arms! And, my God, my feet; my huge feet in these heels. I wish I had your eyeglass prescription because I want to see that beauty that you claim to see.”

“Stop it.” Joe takes quick steps towards her, his palms on her shoulders as he searches his eyes. “You are gorgeous. I look at you and I kid you not, I am always left breathless. You’re beautiful; whether in this dress, or sweats and a tee shirt, you’re perfect.”

She lets the words sink in, chewing on her bottom lip.

“No, I have to change.”

Jen turns around, wrapping her arms around herself. As she steps into the hallway towards her room, she feels a rush of air as Joe’s hands reach for her. When he spins her around, she avoids his gaze and shakes her head.

“Jennifer, stop it. You look beautiful. Plus,” Joe smiles. “You won’t be wearing clothes for too long after this.”

A laugh escapes her mouth in the form of a gasp, her eyes widening in surprise. When he winks and shrugs his shoulders with an open-mouthed smirk on his face, she shakes her head again and remembers he is the one who makes her feel beautiful. Finally, she believes him.

“Now, sit down. I took time getting this all ready for you, so I hope you enjoy it.”

“Joseph, it smells so good,” she assures him when she gets to the neatly set table. “But, really, you didn’t have to do this. You know I don’t mind takeout, as much as I appreciate you preparing all of this.”

“Yes, I did. I know I’m not going to be here for Christmas and I figured I’d give you your presents early. You know, even if it’s only a whole two days early,” he shrugs. His back is turned to her as he grabs a ladle sitting atop a spoon rest, using it to stir what she assumes is gravy in a small saucepan.

“Is that…” she gasps, running over to the counter where a bowl of white fluff is waiting to be served. “Potatoes! Oh, my God, yum! And—Joseph, I can’t believe you made turkey and ham for just the two of us.”

When Jen turns around to look at him, Joe is blushing. She thinks maybe it’s the heat of the stove until he bites his lip and smiles crookedly, “Um, about that – I didn’t want to, like, burn anything like that, so I kind of stole some that mom made. I hope you’re not mad.”

“At you?” she takes his hands in hers, forcing his body to face hers. She wraps her arms around his neck, bringing his face closer to hers. When their noses touch, she presses forward and leaves a light kiss on his lips. “I could never.”

+++

By the time the microwave reads nine o’clock, Jen is already full of food. There really aren’t any words to describe how good the food is, but Joe takes her “ohmygosh”’s and “so yummy!”’s as enough of feedback. She sees that he has barely touched his food, telling him, “Stop making me feel like such a fatty when you’re over there nibbling on peas.”

“What?” he laughs, “I’m not that hungry after slaving over a stove for two hours. You know me; I do too many taste tests in the name of science so by the time I’m done cooking, I feel like I’ve eaten an entire meal.”

She rolls her eyes. Of course.

“So Chef Joseph, what’s on the menu for after dinner?” she winks across the table.

“Slow down, Bug.” He has to laugh at her eagerness. “We’re so backwards sometimes.”

“How so?”

“I would totally think of food after making love, whereas you would be able to jump me right after a meal.”

She blushes at the way he says it.

“Well, I’ve only got you for so long; I’m impatient!”

“Here, let’s make a deal: I’ll finish cleaning up in here, that should take me at least half an hour,” he smirks, “and you can go start watching one of the movies I rented for you. They’re on top of your TV.”

Holding back excitement, she smiles and kisses him on the forehead before racing from the kitchen to her equally tiny living room. On top of the entertainment center are stacks of DVDs she remembers watching with Joe when they first started dating: Titanic, Saw, Star Wars, Romeo and Juliet, Garden State, Harry Potter, Twilight, The Hills Have Eyes, High School Musical—

She wants to laugh at the variety.

Finally, she spots a box with multicolored letters and claps her hands, smiling as she opens it and puts the DVD into the player. A few moments later, the music sounds through the TV speakers and she waits for the movie to play. When Joe lets out a groan from the kitchen in reaction to the music, she giggles.

“You love it, don’t lie!”

The main character breaks into song in the opening scene, and Jen sings along with redone lyrics: “Good morning, San Diego! There’s my boyfriend who cooks good food. He’s a totally awesome dude!—”

“I’m gonna have to stop you right there,” Joe says, still yelling from the kitchen.

Jen just laughs.

+++

Before Jen can sing along to “Without Love”, Joseph is already waltzing into the room with a cupcake in his hand. Jen stares at him like he’s holding a brick of gold because when the silver sitting on top of the cake catches some of the light from the lamp on the opposite side of the room, she feels like she’s dreaming.

“What is this?” If anyone were to ask, she would deny that he voice is shaking.

“Jennifer…” he says slowly, his eyes shining. Jen knows he’s crying; she can hear the shakiness in his voice, too. “I know it seems too soon, and I know there are a million reasons you’d say no, but just hear me out.”

He hasn’t even asked and already, she is sobbing.

“First of all, I love you. I hope you know that, because I know I don’t say that enough. Second of all, I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m not always here to hold you when you’re scared, or available to talk on the phone when you need some assurance that you are remarkable; I’m sorry that I can’t be here twenty-four-seven to kiss you and hug you and tell you that everything’s going to be okay. I’m so sorry that I’m rambling right now because, seriously, I don’t even know where to begin.

When you walked into my life not even two years ago, I was a complete mess. I didn’t know where my life was going, and I wasn’t sure if anyone could help me out of that rut. But you… God, you don’t even know how much I appreciated you talking to me like I was a normal human being. All I needed was someone to be there, and you were. Whether it was just a text message, or a frantic lunch date scheduled twenty minutes before – Jennifer, you have always been there for me.”

Listening to him speak almost proves too much for Jen. Tears have already found their way down her cheeks, making tiny splashes when they hit the bodice of her dress. Her hands are covering her mouth, small sounds emitted from her throat as she continues to cry.

When Joe gets down on one knee, she loses it.

“Jennifer, I want to be there for you. And, okay, I know that’s a completely ridiculous statement, right? Because, well, you don’t have to be married to be there for somebody, I know. But, Jen, I love you so much and I just want everyone to know, and I would be the luckiest person in this galaxy if you said yes.” He pauses to wipe the tears that have gathered at his eyelids.

“You’re my everything and I think about you all the time; every second, everywhere. I thought it was physically impossible to do that, to just think about one person every second of everyday, but it’s possible, Jen. It’s so completely possible and I don’t want to spend another day on tour lying through my teeth, telling them I have a ‘special girl in my heart’ because, damn it, I want to shout it from the rooftops.”

He jumps to his feet, startling Jennifer when he does, and waves his hands in the air.

“I, Joseph Adam Jonas, love my girlfriend, Jennifer, with my entire heart and I want – I need the whole world to know that I am willing to do anything for her.” He falls to his knees again with the cupcake in his palm, holding it in front of her face. “So, Jennifer, will you please marry me?”

Her fingers are clasped around each other tightly, her thumbnails digging crescents into her skin. Her sobs have calmed, her tears drying; she has to inhale-exhale deeply before she is able to talk. Even when her heart stops beating a million times per second, she has to take a moment to collect her thoughts.

Joe begins to shake, leaning on his one knee, and his face looks uneasy. He hears her sigh and isn’t sure what she’s going to say.

“Yes.” She says it, no louder than a whisper, so he has to hear it again. “Joseph, I would love to call you my husband.”

When she says it, the word ‘husband’, he has to think about it first. The shock is evident in his narrowed eyes; even in his most confident moment, he still had doubts that she would say yes. The corners of his mouth – pouty, pink lips with faint freckles sprinkled all over – curl upwards and he is smiling, grinning like a fool.

“Yes. You said ‘yes’, I can’t believe it.”

“What are you talking about?” Jennifer asks, her face twisted in confusion. Of course she said yes.

“Nothing, just – nothing. You said yes and I’m ecstatic.” He takes her left hand between both of his and when she flexes her fingers, he slips the silver band onto its respective digit (it has a single princess-cut diamond in the center and when she sees it, her breath catches in her throat).

“It’s so weird.” She’s laughing at herself when she says it. “We’re engaged. I have a fiancé. I am a fiancée. We’re getting married. This is, like, so surreal.”

Joe watches the blush creep onto her cheeks; he watches as it deepens when she looks at the ring again, her chest rising and falling with each deep inhalation. He never thought it was possible for her to look even more beautiful than before but the effervescent glow that surrounds her is too much for him to handle. She has never looked to breathtaking than in this moment. When she laughs, the sound reaches his ears and it is enough for him to smile, too.

“Can I kiss you?” slowly, he asks. He sounds almost nervous, like it’s their first date and he is again nineteen years old and completely naïve when it comes to life. His palms are sweating, too; he’s sure of it.

“Of course,” Jen tells him. “Of course you can kiss me.”

First, he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear – they chuckle when his fingers hit the earpiece of her glasses and make them go lopsided on her face. She fixes the frames herself just as Joe leans forward and presses his lips to hers. To say the least, the kiss feels… different.

Joe, forcing himself off of his knees and to his feet, puts a palm on either side of Jen’s face and in an easier maneuver than they both imagined it to be, they are standing. Joe wraps his arms around her, his hands resting on the tail of her spine and his lips are moving, slick against hers.

“Bedroom.” It is all she has to say to get him to move, though she’s surprised he is able to understand her with their mouths so close together. He tosses the cupcake to the coffee table (he is proud when no frosting ends up on the glass) and takes her hands, leading her to the room. She whimpers when their lips are apart, but follows him stubbornly.

The dress bag is neatly folded and hanging over the back of her desk chair, but it falls to the floor when the door opens. Joe shrugs (he doesn’t want to make some cheesy joke about how he’s magical; it’s not the right time), and Jen just looks at him with a smile that refuses to leave her face.

“C’mere,” he says, leading her to the bed. He sits down on the edge of it, pulling her towards him and letting her stand between his legs. The material of the dress brushes against his jeans and it makes a subtle scratching noise when he takes a handful of it in his palms. “I love how it looks on you.”

“Liar.” He is taken aback when she says it, but sees the gleam in her eyes when he looks up at her. She is smirking, and it does not take a genius to understand where this is going. She kisses the tip of his nose and makes a trail across his cheekbones and leaves one last kiss on his earlobe. Jen whispers, “You know you’ll love it more when it’s not on me.”

“You’re so eager,” Joe teases. He gasps when Jen pushes him backwards and falls with him, her body hovering over his. She kisses his chin before covering his mouth with her own. She pins his arms to the bed and Joe realizes he is powerless. The kiss deepens quickly and just as fast, they are both moaning. Joe lefts his head and parts Jen’s lips with his tongue. She loses grip of his hands soon after that, and Joe takes the moment to push Jennifer to her feet.

“Right, I am the eager one.” She purses her lips and blows him a kiss.

“You’re like a present,” Joe says. “I want to unwrap you.”

Before he can even touch the chiffon, her hands are at his neck loosening the black tie that is wrapped around the collar of his shirt. Jen thinks he looks so elegant, yet so laid back at the same time. His shirt is not tucked into his pants, but his tie adds somewhat of a crisp touch to his outfit. When it is undone, she tosses it aside like a piece of crumpled paper.

They are breathing erratically, busily trying to undo the extra articles of clothing that are still on Joe’s body.

“Too much,” Jen grumbles. “Too many layers.”

It is an ordeal getting him down to his boxers, but a pile of his pants, shirt, tie, socks, and shoes are in the corner of the room, forgotten for the moment. Jen is standing close to him, Joe’s hands wrapped around her waist like he won’t dare let go of her. Still in the dress, her tummy is pressing against his chest while he stays seated on the bed.

“Stop stalling,” he grins, his teeth pulling on her bottom lip as he pulls away from her just a few millimeters. Once his clothes had been practically torn off, their mouths had connected like magnets and Joe had to fight to push her away. Still, no matter how hard he tried, she would not back down. He mumbles, “Fine.”

Joe reaches behind Jennifer and pulls down the zipper on the middle of her back. Slowly, he tugs it downward, resting his hand on her ass when he feels the zipper has reached the bottom. Jen steps away from him, whimpering quietly, and lets the dress fall to the floor. There is a delicate whoosh as the fabric hits the floor.

“Wait.” Joe stops, his lips already swollen, and looks at her. His hands travel down her curves, paying close attention to the hourglass of her hips. When Jennifer looks at him, his eyes are dark and his bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “This,” he says, “is exactly that I want to come home to every night.”

“I thought you liked me for my personality.” She rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, but I distinctly remember you telling me–” Joe stands up and whispers harshly against her ear. He pulls her forward, forcing her hips against his own; she gasps. “–you only like me because I’m a fine ass boy who can cook and throw you against a bed if I damn well please.”

“So are we gonna keep talking, or will you just fuck me already?” Her cute, naïve façade is quickly deteriorating and Joe, for a moment (or five), is shocked at her forwardness. He smirks at her (she is rolling her eyes again) and replaces his lips over hers, suffocating any sarcastic comment that is about to leave her mouth.

Jen pushes him onto the bed and unclasps her own bra, watching Joe’s eyes move over her as she does it. The metal separates and the cups drop, revealing more soft skin. Jennifer is sure she saw Joe twitch beneath his boxers. She is giggling behind her fingers, her hand covering her mouth. She leans forward, kissing his belly and making a trail through the fine hair between his groin and belly button.

“Jeeeeen,” he groans, her moist, swollen lips touching his sensitive skin. She makes a wet line of kisses up his torso, between his pectoral muscles, and finally at his vein that extends from his collarbone and disappears at the nape of his neck. Her breasts are resting against his chest; Joe can barely breathe what with the way her hardened peaks are pressing into his. “Fuck–”

She keeps quiet, leaving love bites across Joseph’s jaw line. She can barely keep her hands to herself, and she feels herself slipping off the edge of the bed. Still, Jennifer keeps kissing him (avoiding his mouth entirely) and she can’t help but smirk against his mildly warm skin when she feels him squirming; he is whimpering, too.

“I can’t take this–”

Joe forces her onto her back and before Jen can say anything, she is letting out a string of moans as his mouth leaves a soft kiss on her sternum. He presses his lips down her tummy and up again, the tip of his tongue tracing circles into her skin. He looks down at her body, fully exposed, and kisses the peak of her breast. Jen’s jaw drops when his mouth closes over the tip of it, his tongue circling it.

“Joseph, oh my–“ He switches sides, clasping his lips over her other nipple. Not wanting any part of her to feel neglected, he cups his hands over the opposite side and massage the breast. The softness in his palms makes him swell, and his hips start to twitch against her body. Through her panties, she can feel his hardness pressing into her and it makes her shudder.

“Can I take this off?” Joe asks. His voice is soft, coaxing her out of a daze, and he is staring at her with his mouth half-open. His thumbs are hooked in the lacy waistband of her underwear and he is already tugging them down her legs. She responds with a short head nod and when he pulls harder, she covers her mouth with the back of her hands; feeling the air hit her exposed skin, she bites on her index finger.

“I don’t get it. No matter how many times we’ve done this, I still feel like it’s my first time and we’re in your hotel room, waiting for someone to wake you up for call time.” Jennifer is whispering, so quiet that Joe can barely hear her. Her heartbeat reaches his ears and he kisses her kneecap.

“You’re always nervous. But I’m here, Jen. I’m always going to be here.” He guides her legs out of the panties and throws them into a pile on the floor. He looks at her the heels that are still strapped to her feet and smirks. “Leave those on.”

He leans forward again and captures her lips in his. When he is busy sucking on her tongue (he doesn’t even try to hide the guttural moans escaping his throat), Jennifer pushes his boxers off of his hips, scratching her nails against his vee cuts just slightly, and Joe finishes the work by shimmying them off.

The heat of their bodies rises and soon enough, they are swimming in pure desire and lust.

“You’re okay, r-right? Like, you’re comfortable and stuff?” It is Joe’s turn to be nervous. He is brushing away hair over her eyes and she can’t help but feel the least bit of empathy for him. He is always like this, and it just adds to the list of reasons why she loves him.

“I am fine.” She kisses his forehead and smiles. “I wasn’t kidding – I really just want you already.”

“What do you want, Jen? Tell me, please? It’s been such a long time since we’ve done this – I want it to be right.”

“Mm, Joseph, you know I love anything and everything you do.”

He kisses her throat, nuzzling his nose against her neck and sighs when she laughs. He knows she will not articulate what she wants, so he brings her higher on the bed and makes a trail of wet kisses down her chest; he passes her belly and bites down just a little bit. She gasps, giggling when he does it, and he can smell the scent of her soap on her skin. He kisses her waist and down to her thigh, marveling at the sight of the beautiful woman just waiting for him to pleasure her.

“Can I?”

She nods, which never fails to make Joe anxious; antsy.

She is glistening, her heat welcoming him and he has to inhale-exhale a few times to calm himself. He parts her legs just a tiny bit wider and touches her. She jerks, her shoulder coming off of the bed just slightly and she lets out a loud breath. He kisses her hip again, pressing a single finger into her. She feels tight; like she said, it is like their first time.

“J-Jen, you’re soaking wet. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.” He tries to brush it off with a chuckle, but even he cannot ignore the way his heart is dancing in his chest. He is so eager, so goddamn eager that he just wants to touch her and taste her and hold her, and then do it all over again. The tip of his tongue darts forward and licks her; she yelps.

“Joe! Oh, God.” He does it again, eliciting the same response, but it comes out as more of a moan than a yell. He removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue for a while. He massages her with it, the taste of her overwhelming his senses and he feels like he could do this all day; really, he would willingly lay there, just to know that he is the reason she is coming undone at the seams.

He kisses the hard nub and then closes his lips around it, sucking softly. Jennifer is writhing against the bed, her nails scratching against the bed sheets so hard that it sounds like ripping fabric. He uses two fingers this time, pressing them in and retreating them, only to repeat it again and again.

She is begging him for him; more tongue, more fingers, faster – no, slower. Finally, she just tells him to keep going, her words mixing together in a mush of incomprehensible sounds. He hums as he does it, tiny vibrations sending shockwaves throughout her body. She feels like she is falling, falling so fast with nothing to catch her. She loves it.

Her legs are resting on his shoulders, the heels of her shoes occasionally pressing hard into his skin. The pain grows exponentially as the throbbing in his groin intensifies. The pleasure of the pain makes his ears pulse.

Joe takes his mouth off of her, pressing a very wet kiss to her thigh and takes his fingers from her. She whimpers loudly, searching blindly for his body as he crawls up to be with her. One by one, he licks and sucks his fingers clean, smirking at her when she stares in shock.

“Jen, I just–” He kisses her, the taste of her still on his tongue and he feels her surprise when she digs her nails into his biceps. “–I want to feel you. Can we do that, Jen? Can I make love to you right now, my beautiful, beautiful fiancée?”

“Fuck, yes. Joseph, please, I want it so bad.” The entire statement comes out as a moan and both of them are shocked at how coherent she is. Joe, too, is already ready for her, the hardness of him already coated in his own fluid and he pumps himself once, twice before pushing his tip into her. The feeling is foreign for both of them, having waited so long for the moment they would be able to connect like this again.

Jennifer wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him into her as he eases himself in, too. His entire length is buried to the hilt and she can feel him brush against that soft spot inside of her that makes her head spin. Joe is supporting his weight on his palms, his hands on either side of her shoulders. He pulls back slowly and takes the same amount of time to push back in.

“Shit,” he grits his teeth as her nails scratch against his back and the heels are digging into hips. The sensations all over his body send him into overdrive and he feels the heat seeping out of his pores. Their bodies are damp and slick, moving together as one. Their movements make the mattress springs squeak, the frame of the bed swaying back and forth; the sound of the headboard hitting the wall is like a soundtrack for every thrust and every breath.

Jennifer’s hands are frantic; they touch his ears, his biceps, his fingertips, his hips – every part of him that she can reach, she has to feel for herself. He is thrusting harder, the sound of his cock retreating like a slippery noise that makes her all the more anxious. She is whimpering, his name falling from her lips like a mantra.

“Joe. Joe, Joe, Joe…” she says. He responds with another thrust that brings her that much closer to the edge.

He lavishes her in kisses, his tongue coming out flat against her skin as he tastes her. Her sweat and her scent are enough to make him feel drunk; he feels like the fucking king of the world, the way she is praising him and asking, begging for more. He does not want it to end, yet he feels the tightness in his stomach already beginning to stretch.

“Shit, Joseph. Touch me, please. Y-You know where I need you. Fuck, you know me so well.” Her eyes are boring into his, the look in them soft and pleading. She is nearing the edge, the flash of light already behind her eyes.

Joe takes one hand, his weight braced on the other, and rests it on her mound. She is slick, still so wet, when he puts his thumb to her clit. She screams, a moan accompanying the piercing sound when he does it. He moves his thumb in circles, wanting her to continue saying his name like a prayer. It feels like they are the only two people in the universe.

“F-Faster, Joe, ahh–I–” She looks so angelic, he thinks. Her mouth makes this tight little ‘o’ shape and her eyes are finally shut tight while she waits. She is eager, hungry for the spasms that she know are going to explode all over her body.

“Come on, Bug, I’m right here. Come with me, baby.” He kisses the corner of her mouth, leaving her for a moment to kiss her breast. Every nerve in Jen’s body is absolutely alive and he can feel the way her walls are already coming down on him. He can barely hold out any longer. He coaxes her back and forth over the edge; his thumb is moving faster, his hips hitting hers at an angle that makes her scream even more.

“Shit, I’m there, Joe–I’m already–”

That is all it takes. One more circular motion with his thumb and a quick thrust and Jen is writhing against the bed like mad. Her muscles are contracting against his cock and the sensation sends him reeling. His forehead wrinkles as he feels the release come and go. His toes are curled and his hands are wavering; he collapses beside her, their bodies still together.

They ride their highs together, both of them struggling to breathe. The air in the room feels thick and suffocating, but in a completely erotic way. Neither of them know what to say and it takes a while before the silence is broken.

“That was incredible.”

Jen is shaking when she says it. The sound of her voice, the pure awe in the tone of it, makes Joe blush. He feels pink all over, but he has to agree. Every time, every damn time, leaves him speechless.

He slips out of her, the absence of his body making her frown for just a moment. He is grabbing a blanket to place over them and when he does, he wraps an arm around her, too. He kisses the back of her neck, and then the corner of her shoulder before biting her softly.

“Vampire,” she laughs. He laughs, too.

“You know you like it.”

Their breaths even out as Joe explores the curves of her body beneath the blanket. She is soft, vivacious, and he would not have it any other way. She is the most breathtaking woman in the world and he does not understand how he, of all the men in the world, could be so lucky to have her love.

“I am in love with you, Jen. So very, very in love.”

Jennifer lifts her hand and admires the ring on her finger before turning her neck and telling Joe, “I can tell.”

“So you’re sure you want to marry me, then? Like, I know I’m not around twenty-four-seven; I know it’s not an ideal–”

“Shut up.” Jen turns and puts a finger to his mouth, hushing him quickly. The contrast of their bodies – her light brown skin against his undecidedly tan complexion – is mesmerizing. He thinks back to nights when he would marvel at the sight, the hardness of him disappearing into her and the way their bodies looked so connected, yet so different at the same time. “Just, shh. I am so ready to marry you.”

“Then let’s do it, then. Let’s elope or something!”

“Great,” she grumbles. “Another one of your master plans.”

“Hey, Bug.” He pokes her in the side. “This right here was one of my master plans and look how it worked out. We just had, like, mind-blowing sex and you’re going to be my wife. I’m pretty fucking genius if you ask me.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll give you that much. But these–” She lifts her feet above the blanket. “The heels may have been a bit much. They’re cute, but my toes are killing me.”

“Oh, those.” Joe is burning crimson again.” Yeah, those were just an experiment. I’ve always had this, like, fantasy about fucking you in heels. So we can check that off the list.”

“Joseph. So vulgar.” Jen smirks, straddling his waist again. She gasps when she feels Joe hardening underneath her, smiling at how easy it is for her to excite him. “Well, in that case, I have a few more fantasies up my sleeve that we can try out.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Jennifer bends down and kisses him, their lips still swollen and sensitive. Her tongue dances with his as she reaches over to shut off the lamp. Joe hears her tinkering with something in the side table and he pulls away when he hears the drawer shut. He asks, “What’s that?”

There is a clinking noise that sounds, Jen refusing to answer and instead, holds the object in her hands. The room is pitch black and Joe, his curiosity spiking, tries to reach around her. Purposely, she lets her hands graze his fingertips and can’t help but laugh she feels him gasp.

“Handcuffs?”

I never knew I had a dream
Until that dream was you
When I look into your eyes
The sky's a different blue

2009-10-25T20:01:00.001-07:00

Hello, everyone! I hope you all enjoyed Bee's latest post. ;) Well, it's Deejae here to tell you that I've created a Twitter just for the jbdmg's to use. I know a couple of you follow me on my personal (which is completely fine, I promise), and offer me suggestions as well as give me a push in updating (which, I assure you, I always need - even if I still haven't updated as much as I used to >__<).

So to make it easier for all of us, I think it'd be really great if you could all follow us at http://www.twitter.com/jbdmg. When you follow us, I'll make sure to follow you, too, just so I can catch your @replies. We're working on keeping motivated when it comes to NC-17 stories because we aim to please (That's what he said. Yes, yes?). Thank you so much for sticking with us, even if there's always a huge time gap between one story and the next. Love you all. <3

-Yo' DMGs.

PS. Have y'all kept bouncing?

2009-10-25T15:52:00.000-07:00

Title: Shut Up
Author: Britt
Rating: NC-17, bby!
Pairing: Nick/You
AN: It's been almost a YEAR since I've written a OS! I'm soo sorry! I just lost my inspiration for everything 'dirty'. It was sad. I'm glad it's back!

"See you guys later," Joe said, bidding you farewell.

"Bye. Tell me how the movie is," you say, tossing a wave at him.

"Will do." Joe left, leaving you in the house with Nick. You were in town for awhile and crashing at their house.

"I'm going to take a shower," you say, glancing at Nick.

"Oh. Okay." Nick nodded, swallowing and looking at the TV.

You look at him and your eyes meet. The two of you aren't the best of friends. You've always been closer to Joe. Maybe it's because you're both twenty and slightly immature. You and Nick get along, you just don't hang out one on one a lot. Especially not since Nick had come to you a few weeks ago with an offer.

"Can I talk to you?" Nick had asked, calling you out of the blue.

"Nick?" You were confused that it was him on the line and not Joe.

"Yeah," he said. "Can I talk to you or is it too weird?"

"Fire away, Nick," you said.

"I…I know you and I aren't that close, which is why this idea came to me," he said.

"What idea?" you asked.

"I want to lose it," Nick told you.

"Lose what?" You were still confused by Nick calling you.

"My virginity."

You almost choked on your tea. You hadn't heard him right…had you? "Excuse me?"

"I don't want to lose it to someone I'm in love with because I'm going to suck at it and it will be humiliating if I last for like ten seconds. The pressure is too great. Plus, I'm a perfectionist," Nick said.

He was a perfectionist. That was one of the reasons you never hung out.

"Um," you managed to get out.

"I like you alright," Nick said. "I mean, you're cool. We just don't really hang out, you know? I thought maybe…maybe you and I could do it so I could get it over with. Plus I know you won't tell anyone about it."

Oh dear God, you thought, rubbing your temples. "Nick, we're talking about something that's supposed to be a big deal."

"I'm aware of that," he told you. "But I don't want to make it into one. Look, you could just jump me out of nowhere and take complete advantage of me. I won't mind, honest. I just want this out of the way so I can stop obsessing about it."

"I don't know, Nick," you said, frowning.

"Will you at least think about it?" he asked.

"Nick-"

"Please? Just think about, that's all I'm asking."

"Fine, I'll think about it," you said.

"Thanks."

Shaking your head you forget about the conversation and go upstairs, stepping into the bathroom. The door didn't lock, so taking a shower when no one was around was perfect. The hot water was comforting and you let your mind wander as you showered.

The phone conversation with Nick had been the weirdest conversation you had ever had. And honestly you hadn't given it much thought. Nick was seventeen. It would be so weird. He acted like he was thirty, was a little cocky and hardly ever smiled. But he was attractive. His hair was always perfect, his skin lightly tanned. His eyes glinted when he thought something was funny, even if he didn't let his full lips turn up into a smile. Taking what Nick wanted you to take from him was insane. It was out of the question…wasn't it?

You turned the water off, thinking. It had been awhile for you and Nick was right downstairs. He had given you the option to take complete advantage of him. It would be so easy right now. No one else was home. Even though Nick hadn't brought it up since the initial call, you had caught him looking at you on more than one occasion. It was obviously still on his mind.

Wrapping a towel around yourself you stepped out into the hall and looked down the stairs. Nick wasn't there anymore. Sighing, you walk into your room and open up a suitcase, taking something from it. You hear the radio turn on in Nick's room and you stay still, listening and thinking.

"Oh, screw it," you say to yourself. It was intensely on your mind now and you only had a small window to act on this.

Stepping out into the hall again you rock on your heels through a full song before settling on a decision. You walk down the hall to Nick's door and open it without knocking, shutting and locking the door behind you. Nick's lying on his bed with a copy of Rolling Stone. He looks at you surprised and confused.

You cross the room to his bed and drop your towel, the condom in your right hand. Climbing on the bed you straddle him, set the condom down and undo his pants, yanking them down just enough.

"What are you-"

"Shut up," you tell him, reaching down and gripping him, stroking him quickly. Nick lets out a surprised moan, and he's hard within seconds. You slip the condom on him, position your hips and lower your aching self down onto him.
You rise and lower yourself over him, the length and width of him surprising you. You didn't mean to moan as loud as you did.

Nick's breathing loudly and you feel his fingers on your hips, digging into your skin. His lips are parted and his eyes half closed as you circle your hips. He isn't going to last long, and you know this. But it doesn't matter.
You already feel the pressure building inside of you. It's been so long and this has no strings attached to it. Nothing is expected of you, there are no major feelings involved, no talking and there is no pressure. It's just sex. And it's surprisingly pretty amazing sex.

You lean forward and grip his headboard, your core slipping over him and taking him back in over and over again. You close your eyes and focus on the feeling. Nick is moaning and grunting under you and you know you're running out of time. But fuck, the boy feels good.

"Ohh," Nick moans as he thrusts up into you for the first time.

This. This is what you needed, what you wanted. You moan as he thrusts again and open your eyes, looking down at him. The more he thrusts the more his jaw drops, and you know what he's feeling. You let go of the headboard and lean back, arching your spine as you move and he thrusts. You're both close, you can hear it in his moans that have gotten louder and closer together. He's thrusting up into you quickly now, his hard member having a mind of its own, knowing what it wants.

It's seconds later when you know you can't hold back anymore. His fast, hard thrusts are too much and your body is on fire. You grip his shirt as you lean back further, your hips rolling over his. You moan louder and louder as he thrusts and finally let your release overtake you. You groan, your lip bitten and your back arched as you tremble above him. You feel him thrust a few more times before he lets out a staggered moan and his hips push up into yours much slower as the thick cream is expelled from his body. His hips jerk and his head tips back for a few seconds before he falls still, the only sound in the room your breathing.

You slip off of him and remove the condom, pulling his garments back up for him. You grab your towel and re-wrap it around yourself, securing it. You look at Nick, whose head is to the side as he looks at you, stunned.

"Shut up," you tell him again. "You will never tell this to anyone."

Nick shakes his head. "Never…thank you…fuck."

You smirk and then leave the room, disposing of the condom safely. You re-dress and go on about your day normally, letting your mind replay the steamy session over and over again. Who knows, maybe Nick will call with a similar request one day.

Joe's new haircut

2009-10-25T13:21:00.000-07:00

It's Britt! Like, a year later. Wow.

So, some people say it looks like Efron. I don't know what the hell he looks like right now, so I don't know about that.

What I will say is that 1) I'm glad the Joe-hawk is back all these years later. B) Holy fuck me pleaseee, thank you.

I miss you readers! And I plan on having a OS up very soon! Like, hopefully today!

- Britt

2009-09-16T15:49:00.000-07:00

Title: Your Love is Where I'm Falling
Author: Deejae
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Nick Jonas/Demi Lovato
Author's Note: I know, I know, I'm sorry! It took a really long while, and I'm aware that not all of you really like Nemi, but it's what I came up with spur of the moment in honor of Nick's birthday. I kid you not when I say it was an impulse-story. What I mean is, I was doing homework yesterday and was struck with inspiration for this story. So last night in Word, it took me less than an hour and a half to write seven of the ten complete pages this story is. Anyway, here it is. I'll try to get around to the requests, okay? I've got, like, twenty or so documents with at least some sentences written; I just need to finish them. -___- So yeah, for those of you who don't mind Nemi, please enjoy. :]

+++

Nick has never felt so awkward in all sixteen years of his life – except, no, he’s seventeen now. He remembers when birthdays stopped making him feel different. He was thirteen and everything he expected had already happened; his voice had dropped, he was getting hair under his arms, and his two eyebrows were slowly meeting in the middle.

But no, he’s never felt so uncomfortable being in front of this many people and that’s saying something because, well, he’s Nick Jonas.

When he looks to his left, his mother is standing over him like he’s a six-year-old again. Frankie’s on the opposite end of the table, hiding his laughter behind his hand. The cast and crew of Camp Rock are circled around the cafeteria table, waiting for him to blow out the pink candles. Pink because the cooks couldn’t find any other color. Perfect.

Nick would rather be anywhere but here, to be honest. It should go without saying, but he does appreciate people taking out the time to sing him ‘Happy Birthday’. It’s just that he feels like a kid and on his seventeenth birthday, he’d really prefer to feel anything but like a child.

But then, he looks to his right and feels her presence there. He feels her laughing before she even makes a sound, and for a moment it makes everything okay. She’s got one arm draped over her tummy, her other hand clasped over her mouth. She points at the party hat that his mother made him wear (because, yeah, his mom actually bought party supplies at some small-name Canada party supply store) and she’s laughing. Laughing at him and at how ridiculous he looks.

This, he doesn’t mind. Actually, he laughs with her because that’s how she makes him feel. Like, it’s alright to feel young and like a kid. It’s okay to not be Nick Jonas: all serious, all the time; it’s completely acceptable to be Nick Jonas: still legally a kid.

So he smiles for the camera (a real smile because, for one, his mom tells him to and two, because Demi’s posing with him and he can’t not smile when she’s a breath away from him) and gets up from his chair at the head of the table. Cast members, new and old, give him hugs and tell him happy birthday in all kinds of ways.

The guys are pretty unoriginal with their ‘Yo, Nick, happy birthday, man’ with awkward manhugs that make Nick feel equally as awkward for accepting them. Most of the girls are some of his closest friends (at least, he thinks so; he doesn’t remember having friends-who-are-girls since elementary school and even then, they were chasing him around the schoolyard). They give him sweet hugs, maybe a quick kiss on the cheek, and tousle his hair a little bit.

“Happy birthday,” Chloe, the new girl, says. She articulates the second word as if Nick wouldn’t understand it. He doesn’t really know what to think of her yet because it’s only been a few weeks since they’ve really gotten to know each other and honestly, Nick doesn’t pay attention to her.

“Nick J!” Someone’s yelling at him from across the room and Nick swears his knees give out just a little. “Best friend, happy birthday!”

When did she leave my side?, Nick thinks to himself. His question is answered when Demi walks up to him with a gift behind her back.

“What are you hiding?” he asks, a smile gracing his face. Even in the soft glow of the cabin lamps, she can see the color in her face brighten just that much at his inquiry. “No really,” he says, replying when she shakes her head, “what is it?”

“A surprise,” replies Demi. Her eyes widen a little bit like she’s saying ‘Duh’ and she laughs again; Nick calls it the Demi laugh because, c’mon, nobody laughs like she does. “Let’s go, Nick J, they’re calling us.”

Before he can process what she’s saying, Demi’s fingers are laced between his and she’s – wait, she is holding his hand. Nick has to try and remember how to walk – right foot, left foot, right foot, left foot, repeat – and he’s smiling now, while Demi’s leading him out of the cabin and into the one next door.

He doesn’t care where she’s taking him. All he does care about is the fact that she is holding his hand. Nick, for the first time in a long time, finally feels his age and he has Demi to thank for that.

Demi makes him happy. He wishes she could see that. He wishes she understood that maybe, just maybe, he could make her happy, too.

*

It is a dance party. That’s why by the time everyone had given him hugs after the candles were blown out, all the people his age had left the room. Nick didn’t care at first because, well, he thought they were tired and need to get to bed. But no, they were preparing for another surprise party that really did surprise him.

Joe is the DJ for the party (Nick is still shaking his head; why would anyone let that boy touch a turntable?) and Demi hands him a slip of the songs she knows Nick loves. It is like a school dance, except just a little drop below the average awkwardness.

The first song that plays once Nick and Demi walk through the doors is a clip of Nick’s old song “Crazy Kinda Crush on You”, and Nick kind of really wants to punt Joe across the forest.

“Oh,” Joe laughs. “Wrong song.”

Nick shoots daggers towards his older brother, to which Joe replies with a shrug and mouths ‘Happy Birthday, dude’. The younger boy appreciates this and, with an eye roll, shoots Joe a thumbs up. Before the clip switches to the next song, Nick sees Demi from the corner of his eye just dancing to the beat. Her hips move in sync with the beat, fluid and gentle. There isn’t anything raunchy about her movements; she just enjoys the music, laughter erupting at something Roshon is saying.

Nick will ask her about it later.

*

In the two hours that the party has lasted, Nick has danced with every single girl for at least half a minute; everyone, of course, except Demi. By the time Joe has announced the last song (like a true DJ), Nick is ready to punch something because all he cares about is Demi, but she is somewhere else.

When Kevin comes into the cabin twenty minutes before everyone’s curfew, he assures them that he’d clean up their messes as long as they go straight to their respective cabins. Everyone has agreed, many of them yawning, and leave the party. Nick smiles at everyone as they file out of the room, each of them throwing an extra ‘happy birthday!’ over their shoulders.

“Hey,” Nick finally says breaking the silence but for the rustling of large trash bags. “Have you guys seen—”

“Aw,” Joe says, gushing audibly with his hand over his heart. “You can’t even look at us when you ask. You, my young brother, are smitten.”

Seriously, can Nick throw him across the camp already?

“No,” Nick says, the tone in his voice making it clear that he’s trying to convince Joe that no, he’s not smitten.

He’s pretty sure he loves her already. He leaves that part out, though.

“I’m just worried. Whenever I looked for her—” Nick realizes what he said when Joe scoffs, but continues anyway. “—she was either dancing with the girls, or not there at all.”

“Well, I basically just got here,” Kevin offers as an explanation. “And I’m pretty sure Joe was busy messing up the turntable to even notice Demi leaving.”

“Oh.” Nick doesn’t even try to hide the disappointment in his voice. Instead, he heaves a sigh and raises his shoulders, letting them fall when he releases a big breath.
“Hey, bro,” Kevin says, looking at his younger brother with concerned eyes. There’s something else in his eyes, but Nick ignores it. “Why don’t you head back to your bunk? Joe and I have got it here.”

Kevin makes a ‘psst’ noise when Joe begins to counter, making the middle brother reply with a forced, “Oh. Yeah. Go sleep, Mr. Seventeen.”

Nick smiles.

“Thanks, guys.” Yawning with arms stretched over his head, Nick finally realizes how tired he is.

Maybe tomorrow he’ll be able to ask Demi where the hell she’s been all night.

*

Nick doesn’t have to wait until tomorrow to ask Demi where she’s been because he sees her sitting on the dock, her feet wading in the water. He walks through the clearing that leads to her and even if he’s far away, he can see the moonlight reflecting in the water and bouncing back, making her eyes shine a different color. He can see a small box on her side, but he can’t make out what it is, yet.

When his shoes hit the dock with a soft thump!, he grimaces. While he didn’t want to startle her, he hadn’t meant to make so much noise. In reaction to the noise, Demi looks over her shoulder and smiles.

“Hey! I was wondering when you would figure out I was out here.”

“I was wondering where you were all night.” Nick desperately wants to stick his foot in his mouth. Why would he admit that?

“Good.”

“Good?” he asks, taking off his shoes before he sits down next to her.

“Yeah. Because at least I matter enough to make you worry.”

He laughs, an uneasy laugh that makes it evident that he doesn’t know how to react to what she’s saying. But no, she makes him feel better by nudging him with her shoulder. He is reminded of the day before when they played an impromptu six-minute concert for the fans waiting outside of the conservation (How ironic is it that it lasted six minutes?, he wonders)

“Marissa texted me this morning. She saw the video of us playing on top of the SUV yesterday.” Demi starts to laugh, as if what they did was so absurd that it can only be laughed at.

“You have a beautiful voice.” Nick can’t think of anything else to say but that. He wishes he wasn’t being so forward – though, he’s not even sure of what the word ‘forward’ means in this context. For a second, he wants to take it back. But no, he means it. Her voice is angelic, and gorgeous, and every other adjective like those two.

“Thank you,” she smiles. Nick swears that he can see tears on her eyelids. “Oh! I have something for you.”

She clicks her tongue as she twists around, looking for the small box that Nick’s already picked up. When she sees it sitting in his grasp, she doesn’t even smack him for taking it from her before she told him to. She tells him, “Open it, c’mon!”, like it’s his fault that he hasn’t opened it yet.

He does as he’s told, carefully taking the tape from the open parts of the package. Demi heaves a sigh at how slow he’s going and he has to laugh. With more urgency, she tells him to hurry and open the damn thing and when he does, his mouth falls open in awe.

“It’s a guitar strap,” he says simply, taking the leather from the box. It’s dark brown with designs engraved in it (Demi tells him, “Yeah, they’re swirls. But they’re manly, I swear.”) and it feels slightly weightless in his hands. It’s beautiful.

“Demi, it’s amazing.”

“I know you have the one with your guys’ emblems in it from Hollywood Records, but I figured you could use a simple one that doesn’t make you come off as arrogant,” she tells him, smiling. “I had it made for you when I was on a stop during tour.”

That’s where Nick breaks. It’s not about his birthday anymore, nor is it about the amazing gift that’s in his hands. It’s just him and Demi and he’s got to tell her. He’s got to tell her how much he missed her and wanted her around instead of Jordin Sparks (he loves her, but she’s not Demi Lovato); he has to tell her about how he was writing a song one night and she was the first one he wanted to tell, but she was playing a show and he didn’t want to bug her; he wants to tell her—

Nick’s staring. He’s staring at her like his head and his eyes can’t move and to be honest, Demi’s kind of scared. She thinks he was lying. Maybe it isn’t amazing like he said it is; maybe he’s stuck on figuring out another lie to cover up how much he hates it.

Without his eyes moving from her face, he folds the strap and puts it back into the box (though he doesn’t know if the strap even made it into the box; he’s not paying attention to it). Demi’s saying his name, worried, and he just wants her to keep saying his name. He wants her to want what he wants.

Before he can think about what he’s doing, he’s taking his feet out of the water and kneeling less than a foot from Demi, towering over her. His hands rest on the curves that cradle her shoulders and head, and his thumbs are making circles into her cheeks. He leans down just a little bit, the gap between their lips closing.

He’s kissing her. Really, really kissing her. And he can’t stop.

The kiss starts out slow, the shock on Demi’s face wearing away only to be replaced by pleasure. Her lips start to move, too, and Nick’s skin feels like it’s on fire. Demi’s slowly leading her feet out of the water and, without parting from Nick, she’s kneeling, too.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding across her top lip and then.Demi’s making these cute little moaning noises when it happens. Nick’s sure he’s died. Nick’s sure he’s in Heaven right now.

He’s got one hand still on her face, his fingers caught in her soft hair. His other hand fell to her hip, sometime between her second and third moan, and he’s grasping her there. Nick feels a little ridiculous, but he wishes those jeans weren’t in his way.

It feels like hours rather than minutes before they pull apart to breathe. Nick inhales once and already, he’s ready for round two.

“Wait,” Demi laughs, still a little shocked and out of breath. “I don’t think we should do this here.”

“Then where?” Nick inquires, half-lidded and a bit more eager than he meant to sound.

“I don’t know!” Demi shouts, yet whispers at the same time, chuckling. “Your cabin? Dallas is in mine.”

“I think Kevin and Joe are still cleaning after the dance party, so yeah, I think that’ll work.”

Demi smiles.

“I’ll meet you there in ten minutes. Just, let me change.”

He wants to tell her no, it’s fine. It’s okay that she smells like she’s been dancing for two hours because, well, she has been. As weird as it might sound, he likes the way her body smells right now. But she’s already walking away (she kisses him quick, first) and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

With his inhibitions drowning in the lake, he runs to his cabin like it’s on fire.

*

By the eleventh minute of waiting, Nick’s already worried that Demi’s been eaten by raccoons. When he picks up his phone to call someone for help, Demi’s already at the door, knocking. He opens the door quickly, smiling at her attire. Tight black shorts, some white band shirt, and a plaid button-up hanging on her petite frame.

“Hey,” he greets, leaning against the door. Just as smooth as his greeting, the door gives way to his weight and opens wider, sending him backwards. He clears his throat, snaking a hand through his hair and silently invites her in.

“Hello to you, too,” she says, her hands clasped behind her back as she saunters in. “You look good.”

He has to look down at his outfit to understand what she’s saying, but even when he does, he’s not sure what she means. All he’s wearing is pajama pants and a plain white v-neck. Typical.

“You don’t need an explanation,” she replies to the expression on his face. She steps closer to him, closing the door before she gets too far from it, and stands on her tiptoes. “You look good in anything.”

When he hiccups, she laughs at him. Pushing him backwards, she waits until he falls back onto the bed before straddling him. Taking control of the situation, she kisses his temple, his forehead, his nose, avoiding his lips at all costs.

“You smell like my favorite cologne.” Ignoring his lips, she makes a trail down his jaw to his neck and she sucks on his pulse point. Eliciting a moan from him, she smiles against his skin and sucks on the exposed part of his collarbones. His hips jerk and now Demi’s the one who doesn’t know what to do.

“’Ey, Dem,” Nick says, his voice just a little pathetic. His hands are on her hips, now, and his fingers press into her back when she doesn’t stop licking him. “H-Hey. What are we doing here?”

Demi retracts her tongue and kisses his shoulder, straightening herself. Her eyes, Nick notices, are a shade darker and look dilated. She smiles at him, and for the first time, he can’t read the expression on her face.

“I love you.”

Nick’s pretty sure he’s lost it. He’s either a paranoid schizophrenic having delusions-slash-hallucinations, or he really did die and this is his version of Heaven.

“I love you,” Demi repeats, drawing a heart on Nick’s chest. No, he was wrong; he can’t be dead… yet. This girl is killing him.

“What—”

“I missed you so much on tour, Nick. I thought it was just the familiarity of you guys that I missed; I thought it was the fact that I didn’t have my best friends on tour anymore, but it wasn’t. I would talk to Joe and Kevin on the phone after a show and it would be cool. My brothers are supportive and love me. But I’d talk to you and I would physically hurt.”

She’s not straddling him anymore. She crawled off of him and is now sitting near his pillow, her legs folded beneath her. Her face is in her palms, and Nick can’t stand seeing her like that. He leans up on one elbow and uses his free hand to lift her chin.

“Stop, stop.” A tear falls from his lashes and Nick gets it, he knows what she means when she says that she physically hurts. He sits up on the bed and cradles her face in his hands. “I love you, Angel. I just didn’t know how to tell you without you thinking I was stupid; I didn’t know what you’d say.”

Finally, Demi laughs.

“God, this is so cliché,” she says, feigning a frown when she sees Nick’s smile fall. “That’s not what I mean. We were both willing to lie to each other instead of saying how we really feel.”

“Fine,” Nick acquiesces, “It is like a cliché when you say it like that.”

He takes her hand in his, tracing shapes into her skin with his thumb. After silence envelopes them, Demi suggests they stop this.

“What do you mean?” Nick asks, failing at hiding his smile.

“Kiss me, quick.”

Nick grins, then, and he leans forward to press his lips to hers. His arms circle her waist as he lays on her, pressing his weight into her. She’s never felt so safe, having him there above her. She returns the kiss, both of them fighting for dominance.

That’s when Nick realizes what’s so different about her. It’s not about him being the ‘man’ in the relationship. It’s not about finding a girl who can keep up with him. He’s found a match in Demi; she’s just as talented, if not more, and she isn’t afraid to say what she wants. (She’s more beautiful than any other girl he knows or has known, too).

Readjusting them, Nick kneels on the bed and lets Demi wrap her legs around his waist. He leans on his hands, his palms splayed out on the bed on each side of her. Nick can’t even process what’s happening when Demi’s hands are pressing into his hips looking for the bottom of his shirt. She pulls it over his head, tossing it to the corner of the bed.

Nick really hates that they’re on a twin bed. It’s not that he wants to experiment or anything like that (yet), but he feels so restricted to pinning her to the bed and he doesn’t want to hurt her.

“Move.”

Or, he doesn’t want her to hurt him.

“Okay.” He kneels up and watches in awe as she carelessly removes her shirt, her bra just there. And Nick can see it. And he’s almost hyperventilating. She smirks at him (like a signature Nick Jonas smirk) and he can’t believe that this is happening.

Everything’s happening so fast and it’s like… like hell he’s going to pass making love to the girl he’s really in love with. But he’s so inexperienced. And the way she’s acting, it’s like she’s expecting him to just know how things work. He’s touched Miley before and – his thoughts stop. Why is he bringing Miley into this? Demi is almost naked and he’s thinking about how he fucked up with Miley. He didn’t even get to second base with that girl; it’s not his fault she just took off her shirt in front of him.

Anyway.

“Nick?” Demi’s voice seems so distant, but it’s soft and reassuring. “You can touch me. I mean, if you want.”

And he wants to. He’s wanted to for a long time.

“I don’t know how, though.” He wishes it wasn’t like this. He wishes it wasn’t such a cliché, the inexperienced son of a retired pastor doesn’t have a fucking clue how to take off a girl’s bra, or even touch her in the right way. How’s he going to—

“It’s alright,” she says, one of her hands snaking down her body to reach his hand. She offers a small smile when she feels that he’s shaking. “You’re doing fine; stop overanalyzing this. I’m no expert at this, and I don’t expect you to be.”

His head is reeling. It’s like she can read his mind and she gets him before he even makes a move.

“Show me what to do,” he tells her, his voice seeming to drop an octave.

She nods her head and wraps her arms around his shoulders, calming him. She presses her lips to his pulse, her tongue darting out to lick at the skin there. She can feel the beat of his pulse and there, right there, she sucks on the skin and he starts to writhe. Like magic, he’s just under her spell.

Demi arches her back slightly, her hands leaving him, and she unclasps her bra. She’s scared, too, but at least she isn’t showing it. She takes the straps and forces them off of her shoulders. Before Nick can blink, the cups are off of her skin and he can see her, all of her top half, and he swallows.
He doesn’t know what to do because, it’s not like this is supposed to be kinky or anything. He’s not just some hormone-enraged teenager (even though, technically, he is), but he’s here in bed with the girl that he’s loved for two years and she’s just giving herself to him.

She throws her bra to the foot of the bed and it lands on top of the shirt. Nick wants to say something witty, but really, he doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he ducks his head down and kisses her breastbone. He looks up at her eyes and when he sees that they’re closed, he makes a trail of wet kisses along her collarbone and takes his lips down to her chest and he doesn’t overthink it; he just does it.

His lips circle the tight peak of her breast and his tongue just laps at it like it’s the best thing in the world. Demi crumbles underneath him, releasing a sound so animalistic that Nick’s ears twitch. He moves his focus to her other side, one of his hands cradling the abandoned peak. He kneads it, pressing softly and when Demi starts to moan really loud, he’s smirking.

Hey, he thinks, maybe I’m good at this.

But before he can become too confident in himself, Demi’s tapping him on the shoulder. She’s biting her lip, her brown hair (he’s wondering why they dyed it back) making a halo around her head as she presses more into the pillow.

“You’re o-overdressed,” she stutters. She takes the hem of his shirt between her fingers and pulls, forcing him out of the cloth. He laughs at her urgency to which she replies, “Finally.”

And just like that, Nick’s shirtless in front of her. God, he’s never felt so self-conscious in his life.

“I love your little tummy,” she says, patting the small patch of chubbiness above the elastic of his pants. He wants to retort, but her eyes are kind of, like, burning holes into his skin and the way she’s looking at him – he just wants to kiss her into tomorrow. And the next day. And next year. And—

Nick cradles her waist with his arm, picking her up and bringing her under the covers. She ogles at how strong he’s gotten and she can’t help but stroke the indentation of his biceps. He bites his lip when he sees the look in her eyes, wanting nothing but to spend forever looking into them.

When they are finally under the covers, Nick keeps kissing her with a fierce passion and it’s like every cell in his body is just screaming Demi’s name, and how could he deny his body this beautiful girl?

His tongue makes a path from her pulse point to the small hollow depression of her throat and Nick just listens to her pant. And then she begs, “Nick. Nick, please, I want you.”

Nick doesn’t think he can be any harder than in this moment because yeah, he wants her, too.

“I-I don’t have a c—”

“It’s in my back pocket,” she interrupts his thought, arching her hips into his. Nick groans at the contact and when Demi feels just how badly he wants her, she whimpers. Nick’s hand snakes to her back and falls to her ass, going into her pocket and grabbing the same square of foil. Before he retracts his hand, he gives her ass a little squeeze to which she squeals, “Stop!”

They laugh, both of them appreciating the fact that this isn’t awkward at all. It’s more like they’ve been planning this all along and have been prepared for it. Even if it’s not the case, it’s a good feeling.

“We’re really doing this, then,” Nick says, more of a statement than an inquiry. He kisses Demi deeply when she nods, quickly jerking away from her when her hands start to push his pants and boxers down. He finishes what she started and his jaw goes slack when her small hands wrap around him.

She holds him in her palm, feeling the size instead of seeing it and it’s like her senses are waking up. The silkiness of his skin there makes her fingers tingle, and Nick could come right there. And oh, my God, they’re really doing this?

They are.

Using his teeth, Nick rips open the package with his other hand still holding Demi’s hip in place. She pushes her shorts down her legs, air hitting her exposed skin and she apologize to Nick when her knee softly nudges his erection. She has to giggle at his reaction, though.

He rolls the protection onto himself, biting his lip in concentration. He waits until it’s on completely before looking Demi straight in the eye. He asks if she’s ready, if she’s okay, and assures her that this is what he wants, too.

He spreads his fingers out on the bed, leaning on his palms on either side of Demi’s head. She has to take him in her hands again, and Nick doesn’t mind her touching him like that. He presses his hips forward, letting her lead him where she wants him and she nods her head, wanting him to just do it.

He presses more, the tip of him entering her, and she inhales sharply. She shakes her head, telling him to just wait, just wait. She exhales, adjusting to him, and tells Nick it’s okay to keep going. So, he does.

He pushes forward more, her body slowly accepting more of his length and she has to just breathe; that’s what he tells her, “Just breathe.” His arms are shaking as he supports his weight on them, and he can’t really think of anything else. For him, it’s about making Demi feel good; it’s about her pleasure and her reactions.

When he’s buried to the hilt, he waits there, their chests meeting and their hearts beating together, quickly. When she tells him to move, finally, he does. He pulls out and thrusts back in, the feeling overwhelming for him. So much so that he growls her name. He does it again, letting his body adjust to this feeling

The pain subsides and Demi starts to feel the pressure of him against her, the length of him gliding in and out and she can’t think, either. Her idle hands graze his chest, her nails scraping against the skin there, and then his fingers cup his face. She kisses him, a fire in her ignited as he moves. She whimpers against his lips, her mouth growing slack with each thrust into her.

Her hands rake through his hair, ringlets wrapping around her dainty fingers. She pulls his hair and Nick can’t, God he can’t think. It’s just so much of him is alive that he can’t react. But he feels so bad because he’s so close, and he’s not sure he can bring Demi there in time; he’s just so close.

“Demi, I can’t—”

“It’s okay, Nick. Just, mmm, just let go,” she moans, writhing against the bed. She leans forward, gyrating her hips in the opposite direction of Nick’s, and her tongue takes his bottom lip into his mouth. His lip begins to swell, the sensation of her tongue making his head spin.

Nick makes waves with his body, retracting his hips before forcing them back towards her, making Demi squeal. She grasps his biceps in her hands, her nails digging into his skin, and neither of them know what to do with themselves. Nick feels bad (really, really guilty, actually) because he feels like he’s going to come undone anytime soon.

But then he remembers something he heard (because he totally shares stories with his brothers; awkward) and with one of his hands splayed out over her hipbone, he takes his thumb and presses it down to the nub between her legs.

“Oh, my God!” Demi groans, her hands flying to her mouth as she bites down on her fist. With her own slick wetness, he rotates his thumb quickly, her clit hard and alert as he does it. Unable to think straight, Demi just closes her palms over Nick’s cheeks and pulls her face towards his.

“Nick, faster, please,” she begs, her legs opening wider. He obliges to her wish, his hips making a slapping noise as they hit hers. The slickness between them as he goes in and out makes a slippery noise and it just makes Nick want to do more, just please her more. His thrusts become slightly erratic and his breathing is labored when he says her name, but he keeps going.

His thumb keeps making circles, and Demi’s still shrieking Nick’s name and to be honest, Nick doesn’t give a damn if someone wakes up. It’s not like anyone’s going to be awkward and ask what the ruckus was. But then, that familiar feeling of release is building up in his toes and his tummy.

Then Demi says, “Harder, Nick. Just, ohh, just give it to me, please,” she whimpers pathetically. Nick’s a little proud of himself, for making Demi unravel like this. So he thrusts harder, his pace quickening, and ducks his head towards her breast and sucks some more.

Demi’s nerves are on fire as he moves, her chest heaving as Nick sucks there, her hips moving rapidly, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, and her hands buried in his hair. She feels the eruption coming up from her toes and she knows she’s close.

“Demi, I-I love you. You know that,” Nick says, his words coming out in a slur, punctuated by thrusts. “But shit, I’m so close and I’m sorry if you aren’t.”

Demi laughs.

“Of course I’m close, you moron,” she says, a grin spread across her face. “Just keep doing what you’re doing. God, you’re phenomenal.”

Nick doesn’t think Demi’s been more beautiful than right here in this moment. Her eyes are shut tight, her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, and she’s writhing against his body like all she wants is moremoremore. And Nick can’t get enough of her. Not now, not ever, he thinks.

His hips slow down a little bit as he reaches the brink, and with a flick of his thumb, Demi’s there with him, too. He laps at her neck, feeling her muscles contract around him and just one more push forward and Demi’s pressing against him like it’s nobody’s business.

She lets out a yelp so high-pitched, Nick is amazed he even heard it. She mutters something along the lines of “Yesyesyesyes, oh, my God, so amazing” with a few expletives thrown in for good measure. The feeling of her seizing against his body makes Nick reach his release, too, and he’s coming undone above her.

He lets out a groan, her name falling from his lips like a song, and collapses against her body. His breath is hot against her skin and Demi can’t help but laugh. She laughs at how spent he is, and she laughs at the look on his face when he looks up at her, all dazed and confused and completely drunk off of her.

Nick inhales, the scent of sweat and perfume mixing together perfectly. Carefully maneuvering himself around the twin-sized bed, he gathers the blanket and drapes it over them. As their breathing slows, Nick has to smile as his fingers dance over the curve of Demi’s shoulders.

He hums a recognizable tune, making Demi turn to him with eyes shining with the light from the moon. Nick stops humming and starts singing the lyrics instead.

“But you’re so hypnotizing, you’ve got me laughing while I sing…”

He invites Demi to finish for him, which she does, “You’ve got me smiling in my sleep.”

Both Demi and Nick wonder when they’ll be able to do this again. It’s not like they could just live without this. They couldn’t possibly be in the same vicinity of each other, unable to touch. Nick smiles, holding her close.

“Well, it’s not like we have schoolwork like last year. We’ve got time. We’ll make time,” he says. And Demi believes him.

Before she can fall asleep, Demi’s standing up and putting her clothes on. She drapes the plaid over her shoulders, making herself approachable.

“No, just stay here,” Nick demands, trying to sound pleading. “We’ll figure out an explanation tomorrow. Just sleep.”

“Nick, you know that I can’t.”

“Like hell you can’t.”

She stares at him, mesmerized by the dark pools of brown that make up his eyes. His hair is messy and all over the place, just how she likes it; without product. She wonders how she can deny that face before realizing, oh right, she can’t.

“Fine. But put some clothes on before your brothers come in here wondering why you’re lying in bed naked next to me.”

Nick rolls his eyes, even if she’s right, and throws on boxers. He raises his eyebrows at her, as if asking, ‘Happy?’, and she is. Completely content when she crawls back into bed, safe in Nick’s arms.

“Happy Birthday, Nick. I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby,” he replies, kissing her temple.

Tomorrow, they’ll probably make love again. And again. But now, they sleep for the longest and most peaceful sleep in a while.

What a freakin' hiatus, yeah?

2009-08-13T00:41:00.000-07:00

So, yeah. I really, really, really suck at updating. I can't make a promise as solid as "I'll have a new story up by next week" because frankly, life has taken different turns for me and the other DMGs (Hola, this is Deejae, btw). So anyway, think of this as a new ~request blog. And shower us with compliments or whatever to motivate/inspire us to write more. :D Lol, I'm kidding. I hope all is well with all of you. And to show even more how long we've been gone... what do you all think of the Jonas Brothers' Lines, Vines, and Trying Times record?

Make of this what you will. Please, even if you've already commented with a request in previous posts, please comment on THIS one instead. Sorry for the hiatus; we'll see what happens from here on out.

Love you all~
Peace.

Baby, It's Cold Outside - By Deejae

2008-12-13T14:24:00.000-08:00

Twenty-three degrees. Twenty-three degrees and dropping. It is snowing outside and the thick cloak of white resembles a snowfall you recall from when you were young, making you sigh as you reminisce. You are dressed in jeans, legwarmers, an uncomfortable turtleneck, and gloves. You’re still cold. It’s time for you to leave, but he won’t let you.

“Joseph, I have to! Stop being a child.” You scold him, your hand on your hip and your brow creased. He mirrors you with a smile playing on his lips; you have to roll your eyes at his immaturity.

I really can't stay (Baby, it's cold outside)
I've got to go 'way (Baby, it's cold outside)
The evening has been (I've been hopin' that you'd drop in)
So very nice (I'll hold your hand, they're just like ice)

“You don’t have to leave.” His voice is dry, and he takes a sip of hot cocoa from the mug in his hands.

“Where did you hide them?” you ask, your voice firm and unwavering. He smiles, a faint dimple showing on the left side of his chin. He shakes his head and sets down the mug, running down the hall from you. You tremble from the cold breeze coming in from the window, making you wonder why on Earth it’ seven open.

“I’m not telling!” he answers over his shoulder, his voice echoing from his empty room. You know the rest of his family is due any minute, and that causes you to worry. The thick socks on your feet muffle any loud noise from erupting as you quickly run down the hall and into his room. You roll your eyes, not the least bit amused, when you see him lying on his bed wearing your jacket, scarf, and plaid aviator hat.

Well, the hot pink hat makes you smile just a little bit.

“Stay with me,” he says. His voice is no longer playful, but serious. His eyes are pleading, and his arms are outstretched. You accept the invitation and fall onto his bed with his arms wound securely around your waist.

It is moments much like this one that make you wonder how lucky, how fortunate, you are that he’s yours, all yours. You’re not entirely sure how it is that your best friend, as clichéd of a story that it is, became so much more. Joseph is more than that, and he knows it. Unfortunately, he uses that knowledge to his advantage.

“What will my parents think happened to me?” you say, succumbing to the calming sound of his bravado. “They know it doesn’t take this long to drive over here and pick up a punch bowl.” You shut your eyes, his breath softly tickling your neck. You honestly believe that no matter how cold it is outside, when you’re in his arms you’re warm enough; not even ice can break the warmth you feel as you’re tucked in his arms.

“Tell them you’re with me.”

“Right,” you laugh. “And what will they think then?”

“Your wonderful, caring boyfriend didn’t want you to catch pneumonia.” You can hear the pompous beam in his voice.

I oughta say no, no, no sir (You mind if I move in closer)
At least I'm gonna say that I tried (And what's the sense in hurting my pride)
I really can't stay (Oh baby, don't hold out)
Oh, but it's cold outside

You want to say no, but you can’t find the words to do it. Your mouth opens to speak, but the words come to an abrupt halt when his lips touch yours. Electricity sparks when the tender skin of your lips meets his and it feels just like you’re falling head over heels once again.

“I really can’t stay,” you mumble, your limbs failing you as you try to stand. You feel defeated, but the nerves that set on fire when his hand touches the skin of your hip immediately overpower every other thought in your mind.

“Stay.” A few swift movements leave you beneath him, his palms resting on either side of you. His curls are still damp from the shower he took just minute sago. You regret it now, wearing so many layers. You had changed while he was in the shower, trying to be as sly as possible.

He is smarter than you, though. You know him well. He had tucked away your other articles of clothing before he slipped into the tub, knowing full well that you would try to escape him before he came out from the bathroom.

“Baby, it’s cold outside,” he sings, kissing your jaw, and then your cheek, and then the very tip of your nose. His hands grab yours and remove the thick gloves covering them.

“Fine,” you whisper. “Just a few minutes.”

He smiles against your skin as your hands run along every dent in his bicep, your nails scratching softly. You see him bite his lip as he attempts to rid you of your turtleneck.

“Good.” You sigh when the itchy piece of clothing falls to the floor. “That damned thing is so uncomfortable.”

The laugh that falls from his mouth sounds angelic, igniting your every nerve. Every sound he makes is beautiful, as is every move and every touch and every physical feature.

He’s perfect. He’s yours.

“It’s so warm in here,” you say, noticing the lack of a cool breeze hitting your skin. “How—”

“Heater,” Joseph interjects, his voice accompanied by the sound of your pants zipper.

“Oh.” You shake your head at the lack of a better response.

“Gorgeous,” he breathes. “Every part of you is just that, beautiful.” His eyes scan your body and you touch the pads of your fingers to his chin, lifting his face to yours.

“I love you, Snowbunny.” Normally, it would be just a silly interjection, this use of a tacky nickname. But he understands, just like only he can.

“I love you, too, Lovebug.” It’s impossible to feel this way, you think. To feel so absolutely in love, your fingers absentmindedly but delicately brushing curls away from his face. Your touch is soft, the fear overwhelming you – fear that this is just a dream, a fragile and benign figment of your exotic imagination.

But he’s real. He’s not away, not off on tour. He’s here, in your arms holding you and you holding him. And nothing seems more perfect. Your imagination can’t even come close to conjuring up something even more wonderful.

His nose tickles you right below your ear and he kisses the jutting part of your collar bone. His lips are soft; they’re warm and you can feel that they are moist. He mumbles something against your skin and your eyes, which you’ve just realized were closed, open up to look at him.

“What did you say?” you ask quietly, not wanting to break the comfortable silence.

“Let me… let me touch you. I want to make love to you. Please, please… let me.”

I simply must go (It's cold outside)
The answer is no (Baby, it's cold outside)
The welcome has been (So lucky that you dropped in)
So nice and warm (Look out the window at that storm)

His pleas are innocent and kind, his voice just as quiet as his breaths. You can’t help but give in.

“I can’t think of anything more perfect.”

You rest your head onto his pillow, letting him take the lead. His nimble fingers dance at your torso as if the pads of them are trying to memorize your every curve, your every feature. He kisses everywhere he can reach without straining himself: your neck, your temple, your forehead, your chin. He purposefully ignores your lips.

He lifts you slightly, pulling your jeans off of you gently. You smile at his diligence, unable to remember ever seeing him more vulnerable than in this moment. It’s not the first time you’ve been intimate, but there haven’t been many. He’s always away. And when he’s not, he’s always busy. It’s not his choice though, he assures you. He is shaking now, and it is obvious that he is trying to control his erratic breathing.

It’s comforting that he’s as nervous as you.

“Joseph, don’t worry.” Your voice is evidence of your nerves, and you laugh at yourself. “Let me help you.”

Your hands rest over his and calm him, your feet kicking until you hear a loud thump as your belt hits the floor on top of the denim heap. Your hands grasp his wrists and pull him close, wrapping his arms around you so that he can unclasp your bra. When he does, you can feel the blush on your cheeks when his eyes meet your breasts.

“Still so beautiful,” he says, his words followed by an anxious swallow and a smile.

“Your turn,” you tell him, realizing he is still fully clothed. “Your shirt.” You were too distracted earlier to know when he had shed the jacket, hat, and scarf.

He kneels on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours for even a second. His skin is damp and you don’t know whether it’s the perspiration and the anxiety, or the shower and his tendency to not dry completely. You laugh, your index finger tracing down the line that runs from the middle of his chest and down, the indentation finally disappearing into his plaid pajama pants.

“Fine,” he groans, watching you lick your lips as you eye him.

“I can’t help it,” you say in defense. “I’m sorry.”

He smiles at you when the fabric hits the floor, shivering when he’s left in only boxers.

“Spongebob?”

“Naturally,” he replies, grinning. Another reason you love him: he’s just the right amount of fun without being frustrating.

“Well, take them off,” you demand eagerly, laughing almost. “Tick, tock, tick, tock.” You watch as his fingers tug on the elastic, his cheeks burning crimson. Following his lead, you lift your hips and push the elastic of your own panties down past your hips, stringing your legs through and kicking the lace fabric down to the floor.

Once he’s completely nude, his length throbbing and eager, he looks at you and smiles – a beautiful, beautiful smile.

It takes every ounce of willpower for you not to absolutely lose control right then and there.

“Tell me, angel, what is it that you want?” He awkwardly shifts his weight to his knees, situating himself between your legs. His breath is hot against your lips and you smell the peppermint. His eyes bore into yours and in the silence, you can hear the sound of his every insecurity, every barrier holding back, slipping away.

He belongs to you and you know that anything you desire, absolutely anything, is yours. But you want only one thing.

“You.” He kisses you, then. Soft, but firm. His lips are full; slippery. You smile as you feel your own lips moving against his, holding him close to you. Your back arches when his length presses into you, then finally all the way in until he’s buried completely inside and unable to move.

“Mm, wow,” he whispers, feeling the overwhelming wetness let him slip in and out so easily. Like a key fitting into a lock, he fits perfectly. You feel complete, like a puzzle missing only one piece – and he has filled the void. The skin of his hips rubs against your inner thighs creating some sort of friction, a type of electricity that ignites the both of you.

It’s never been the same experience when you’re with him. Each time is different, somehow.

“Joseph, oh,” you moan, over and over again. His name falls from your lips like the leaves on an autumn afternoon; like the snow outside the window. You search for something to hold, unable to think clearly, to process your own thoughts. The world is spinning and you can’t control it, but you don’t want to. Your nerves are completely drowned in pleasure, his cock hitting every spot without you saying where.

“Come on, Snow Angel, tell me… tell me what it’s like. Tell me if it’s good…”

“It’s good, Joseph. Ohh, it’s indescribable. You feel amazing. J-Just like that… yeah…” You feel the sheets beneath your head twisting and you turn your head, watching as his knuckles turn white – he is clenching the sheet between his fingers. It’s like you can hear his nails ripping the fabric. He’s holding it in.

Your hands circle his torso, your fingers tracing an invisible line up his back. Your fingers squeeze so, so gently – his ass, the indentation on his lower back, the curve of his spine. Your hands rest on the part where his shoulder blades meet. You flinch as you feel that familiar feeling starting in your toes and your muscles tighten just slightly. You kiss him, pouring every ounce of absolute pleasure into it. Your tongue touches his and he presses forward even more, you suctioning his tongue into your mouth.

He groans at this and his legs shift beneath him.

“Joseph, baby, come for me. Let me feel you first, let me—”

“No, I-I can’t. Let me do this for you.”

“Joseph, come on.” He slides in, moving further into you. He hits a different, new spot, and you growl. So animalistic, so raw – it makes his ears perk and he can’t hold it in any longer. With a groan of your name, along with every other moniker he’s given you in the past, he comes to his end. He spills everything he can offer into you, ropes upon ropes of it.

The pulsation of his cock sends you to your end, too. You writhe underneath him, both of you still connected as one. His hands grab yours and your fingers intertwine. He kisses you everywhere – your neck, your collarbones, your cheek, your eyelids, your temple.

You can feel him more than ever. Physically, mentally – you can feel him.

He slips away from you, your hands still holding on. He pulls you close to him, both of you still breathing raggedly. His heart beats against your ear as your rest your head on his chest. He kisses your hair and inhales, smelling the scent from your shampoo.

“Joseph,” you sigh, kissing his breastbone. “Joseph, Joseph, Joseph… my wonderful, amazing, talented—I just love you so much. I don’t think that’s enough to show just what I feel for you, but I’m so, so in love with you.”

He strains his neck, tilting his head to kiss your eyelid, then your temple. His lips are still warm.

“I love you, too. I’m so in love with you.” He says your name and his voice is the sweetest of all the angels. “I leave for tour and always wonder what’s written in the future for us, but…” He kisses the top of your head again. “… I see something that reminds me of you, and I fall head over heels all over again.”

You let the silence linger for a second, listening to him breathe.

“Oh, I really shouldn’t have stayed this long,” you say, looking at the alarm clock over his shoulder.

“But, baby, it’s cold outside.”

“I know, but… I really do have to leave. This was… this was phenomenal, Joe, really. I don’t regret staying, not one bit.”

He smiles and whispers, “Get dressed so I can walk you to your car.”

You groan, but comply. You r body trembles and aches, wanting to hold him for just a longer while. But, you can’t. And that hurts more than the cold.

+++

The walk to your car is longer, both of you taking small strides down the road. The snowfall is heavier than earlier and you can barely see through the blanket of white that has fallen over the street. Unlocking your car, you throw your purse onto the passenger’s seat and turn to him.

“I love you.”

“Love you, too,” he says, returning the embrace. Yet again, the cold just gets warmer when you touch him.

He waits outside your car, watching while you put the key into the ignition. The engine scratches a little and you smile uncomfortably. Letting it rest for a few second, you make a second attempt. Getting the same result, you groan.

“What?” he questions once you exit the car and fold your arms, staring at the car and kicking the closest tire.

“It won’t start!” you groan. “I think the engine’s frozen. Damn, I need to call my par—”

“Done.” You look at him quizzically, your confusion growing as you see the grin on his face.

“What?”

“I called them before I got into the shower.”

I really can't stay (Get over that hold out)

“What did you tell them?” Your hands automatically fly to your hips as you interrogate him. From the laughter that ensues, it is obvious that the expression on your face is amusing to him.

“I told them that it would be safest if you stayed here for a little while, if not for the rest of the night, because the roads are dangerous. At least now it’s not a lie.” You want to laugh until you remember that the rest of his family is still gone.

“But what about Nick and Kevin? Your parents? Frankie? Elvis?”

“Elvis? Really?” His voice is accusing, but you hear the smile.

“Well, you know what I mean.” He walks towards you, pulling your body close to his and instantly warming you with an embrace.

“They’re gone for at least a day and a half. Apparently, Josh and Angela needed some assistance at their house before coming by for Christmas.”

“So let me get this straight: you planned this?”

“Pretty damn good, yeah?”

You think about your answer first before pressing your finger into his side, making him flinch and laugh.

“Amazing. Thoughtful.” Your wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him. “Wonderful. Beautiful. Yes, pretty damn good, Joseph.”

He takes your hand in his and walks with you back to the house. You are quiet, walking together in complete silence. No words have to be spoken to understand the feelings that are obviously there. The melting snow in his damp curls reminds you of powdered sugar, and makes you think of hot chocolate and a warm fireplace. You look back and your footprints in the snow are quickly fading, but it's okay. The memories still linger, and you are beyond content.

Oh, but it’s cold outside

+++

Finding Someone Special, by Deejae

2008-12-13T14:18:00.000-08:00

+++

Last Christmas, I gave you my heart
But the very next day, you gave it away
This year, to save me from tears…
I’ll give it to someone special

The party is crazier than you had anticipated. Your friends have been split into two groups: the drunk, and the taken. The drunks are the ones who are yelling maniacal, nonsensical phrases at the top of their lungs and singing karaoke; that is, if they haven’t already passed out from the heavy liquor coursing through their systems.

The taken are the ones who either arrived to the party with a significant other, or managed to find another single to partake in the festivities with. You are in neither group.

It is almost midnight on Christmas Eve – you see the time after a couple moves away from in front of the large grandfather clock in the foyer – and you are staring at the stairs leading to the bedrooms. It’s a large house, with Victorian antiques. Everything is beautiful, exquisite. The mahogany finish of the table top in the center of the entryway shines, your reflection crisp when you look at it.

Is wood supposed to do that?, you ask yourself. You smile, your fingers grazing the flat surface of it. A flute of chardonnay sits between your fingers and you stare at the door just as it is opening. Someone yells profanity from the other room and accompanying the foul word is shattered glass. You wonder what has just happened until the sound of your name being spoken makes you turn back to the door.

“Is that really you?” the owner of the voice asks, his face glowing. Your jaw drops slightly, and your pulse races.

“Ben? Y-Yes, it’s me. What are you doing here?” It takes everything in you to hold in the tears threatening to spill past your eyelashes.

“The Jonases invited me. How have you been? It’s—” A throat is cleared and you look to the left of his broad frame, his arm being held by slender fingers. Your eyes trail down to his wrist and you gasp quietly at the sight of his hands interlaced with harsh, angular fingers. “Oh, how rude of me. This is Clare, my fiancée.”

“Fiancée?” The shock running through your mind is evident by the tone in your voice. “I-I had no idea.”

There’s almost no way of stopping the tears now.

“It’s so, so n-nice to meet you, Clare.” You extend your hand towards her petite frame, her eyes shooting daggers through you. Feigning politeness, she accepts your gesture and shakes your hand. When the skin of your fingers meets hers, you shiver at the iciness of them. You don’t know if it’s the temperature outside, or the pure wickedness pouring from her core.

She is the reason. She is the reason you cried for weeks, the reason you couldn’t see the light of day until the New Year came. It was just three-hundred sixty-five days prior to this moment that you had found them in bed together. She hadn’t said sorry, but Ben said it enough times for the both of them.

But it wasn’t enough. You had given him your heart, and he held you in the palm of his icy hands – then, dropped it. Every dream you had of your future together, shattered. Every memory was tainted – every kiss you shared, every time you held hands, every time you woke up to him.

Your body hurt for months. You felt that you were at fault, that you were what pushed him away. But it was her. He had ‘loved’ her, he said. The silver on her left ring finger shines in the light from the chandelier. It represents their love for each other. But, it also represents every tear, and every ounce of hurt you have felt in the last year.

“I-I have to go. Um, have f-fun at the party, you two. And congratulations on your eng… engagement.”

It had taken every bit of effort for you to say those words. By the time you uttered the first syllable of congratulations, you felt sick to your stomach. It feels like hours as you ascend the stairs, and it feels like even longer as you search for an empty room. Finding one, you shut the door and lock it, the tears already staining your warm cheeks.

The tears fall from your eyes, your chest twisting in knots as your breaths shallow – inhale, exhale, trying to remember how to breathe. You collapse near the head of the four-poster bed, hanging onto the sheets while you sob. The sound echoes in the large room, your crying. You suck in a breath and shake your head, not wanting to cry anymore. It is difficult, but you eventually stop and look around the room.

Suddenly you feel strange, like you’re in a foreign place. A nightlight is on, and you can see most of what is on the walls. Posters, frames of pictures, concert tickets; so many things, and they make you wonder whose room it is.

“Can I, um… help you?” You jump, your heart leaping in your chest. You apologize over and over again, the word ‘sorry’ tumbling around on your tongue.

“I just… I had to get away from the party and this was the nearest empty room I could find. I’m so sorry for the intrusion.” All in one breath, you say it.

“It’s okay, I’m just wondering why you’re in… here… and… crying?” His voice is accusing now. He hasn’t moved forward enough, so you can’t see his face. But his voice is familiar to you, almost calming.

“N-Nicholas, it’s nothing.” He hasn’t ever been a close friend of yours. You and his brother, Joseph, have always been close. Friends, and just friends, but best friends. In the long years you’ve known Joe, the most you spoke to Nick was ‘hello’ and sometimes a ‘goodbye’ when you visited the Jonas household.

He takes a step towards you, his hands reaching for you. You turn your body away from him and flinch when his palms touch your shoulders.

“You’re trembling,” he whispers. “What happened?”

He pushes you softly onto the bed, letting you sit. He takes a step backwards, giving you an invisible bubble of space. His arms fold over his chest and he stares at you. His eyes aren’t condemning, but they are soft. They are a comfort, the deep brown pools that they are.

“I can’t tell you,” you say, your voice raw from crying – you play with your fingers and avoid his eyes.

“You can. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

“We’re not children, Nick,” you reply, your tone poignant. “You don’t have to act like one.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t have to say much for you to know by the sudden quietness of his voice, he is hurt. The inflection of your voice was hurtful, you admit. “I was just t-trying to help.” A cloak of vulnerability comes over him and at this, you cry again.

“I’m so sorry, Nick. It’s honestly not you – you’re not the problem. I – Ben.” Saying the name hurts you, your tongue begging for the name not to slip past your lips again.

“Ben? Ben Shay? What about him? Isn’t he supposed to be at the party tonight?” He has not moved from in front of you, the large space still between you.

“Y-Yeah, he is. In fact, he just arrived with his… Clare.” The intonation of her name makes your detestation obvious. “He and I used to be a couple, Nick. Exactly one year ago, tonight, I first told him I loved him. You know, to be romantic? And he…” You have to pause for a moment, tears still streaming down your cheeks. A tear hits your hand and you wipe it away with your opposite thumb, the moisture making just that part cold.

“It’s okay, you can tell me,” his voice is quiet again, but eager. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing soft circles.

“Just a few hours later, I found him in bed with the woman I just formally met downstairs.” You say it quickly, thinking the admission would hurt less if done hastily. It doesn’t.

“I loved him, you know? Genuinely, and completely. And he took that vulnerability, and… broke me. I felt so useless after I left him. I felt so alone, and so afraid of ever opening up to anyone else.”

Silence breaks through the room before you speak again.

“And he’s engaged now. Engaged. As if hurting this much isn’t enough, I just met his fiancée. I’m just so, so alone. And now, I’m pouring my heart out to someone I’ve never had a formal conversation with,” you say, chuckling sadistically to yourself. “This… this is how pathetic I am; what a pathetic piece of nothingness I’ve become.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t you dare think that about yourself.” You look at Nick shaking his head, your sight blurred by the tears still settling on your eyelids. “The mistakes that Ben Shay has made are his and his alone. You had absolutely nothing to do with that.”

You cry and ask, “Then how am I supposed to feel? I told him what I felt for him and he cheapened that feeling by sleeping with a girl I had never met in my life. He’s a cheap bastard, yes, but… maybe – I don’t know, maybe I still love him? I still, oh God, I still love him.”

“Listen to me.” He kneels in front of you, holding your trembling hands in his large, gentle ones. “It’s alright to cry. It’s alright to dwell for a while. It’s alright to feel sad, to feel hurt. But what it’s not okay to do is blame yourself. Ben made a mistake by doing what he did. The pain that you go through in life just makes the rejoices worth even more. It’s his loss, and not yours. You don’t love him anymore, at least you shouldn’t. You love the idea of what he was, the idea of what you two were before he hurt you.”

The tears and the sobs still shake your body, and you hold Nick’s hands tighter as he speaks. You sit in silence, your shallow breaths – inhale, exhale, again – ring in the room. Your head is spinning, emotions sparking every neuron in your brain. You are crying, you are trembling, but what makes you feel better is the fact that you are not hurting.

Nick’s hands comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear from your stinging cheeks.

“He’s the pathetic one for letting away someone as beautiful, intelligent, and remarkable as you.” It when he says this that you have to pause and rewind.

“What?” His other hands follows suit of the first and cups your other cheek. He pulls your face towards his, sitting taller on his knees. The world is moving slower as you watch his eyes shut, and you mimic him. Your eyes close and you rely on your other four senses to try and understand what is happening.

Your lips feel pressure against them and you hear the sound of a kiss. His lips are full against yours, and warm. He deepens the kiss and suctions your bottom lip between both of his. You can’t contest; you’re enjoying this. The first kiss was chaste, but this one is passionate. His tongue presses between the gap of your lips and you taste his lips. Chapstick –

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” he exclaims, jumping to his feet. “I didn’t – I wasn’t thinking clearly and… I’m just so, so sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“I just wanted to feel what it’s like to kiss you and—I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Nicholas! I said it’s fine.”

“It… is?”

“Completely.”

“Well, good,” he smiles, the smile quickly fading as he looks at you and drags a heavy hand through his hair. He says your name like he is trying to reason with you. “I’ve been head over heels for you since I was thirteen.”

“You’re lying. This is the most we’ve ever talked since I’ve been friends with your brother.”

“That was why,” he replies sheepishly, cringing slightly when he sees tears still on your cheeks. You wipe them away. “I liked you so much, so I distanced myself thinking that I’d get hurt if you and Joe eventually got together. But when I really wanted to started building some kind of friendship with you, I realized that I distanced myself for too long. I guess it hurt less to just not be friends at all.”

You sigh, closing your eyes and soaking in the information. Your heart is beating in your ears.

“I don’t want to be the rebound,” he says suddenly, his eyes downcast. He looks at you through the unruly curls falling over his eyes and cracks a crooked smile. “I don’t want you to want anything to do with me if it’s only to get over Ben.”

You shake your head, holding your hands out for his. Much to your pleasant surprise, he takes and holds them. You pull him towards you, making a space between your legs for him to step into. You smile.

“Ben who?” Maybe it’s too fast. Maybe it’s too soon. But in this moment, you want nothing more than to be with him. To feel him, make love to him, hear his moans in the scattered sound of his breaths.

It has nothing to do with Ben. From now on, nothing has anything to do with the boy who broke your heart.

His hands clasp yours, his fingers between yours and he holds them on each side of your head. He kisses your lips deep, and then deeper. His tongue touches yours and you close your lips around it, sucking softly. He moans from deep in his throat and his Adam’s apple vibrates.

He moves one of his hands away from yours, and rests it on your hip. His knee nudges your thigh slightly and you open your legs wider, wrapping them around his hips.

“W-Wait,” he laughs. “I’m trying to undo your pants and you’re making it difficult.”

“Oh,” you join in his laughter, “sorry.”

His hands fumble with the zipper of your pants, and he sighs loudly as the sound of the denim unzipping comes into your ears. He pushes the thick material off your legs, letting you kick them, and your shoes, to the floor. He kisses you more, his lips pressing into yours. You push him until you lean on your elbows, pushing his hands away from the buttons on your blouse.

“Let me,” you say, pointing at his pants and biting your lip. He had changed into pajamas by the time you stormed into his room, and his task was not as difficult as yours. First, he takes the hem of his shirt into wrinkled fistfuls and pulls the green fabric over his head. He shines in the yellow lighting, sweat dripping down his temples.

With hesitation, he takes the elastic of both his plaid pants and his boxers, pushing them off his hips. The v of his accentuated pelvic bones jut out and your core aches as you imagine your tongue running across the indentations. He smiles at the look on your face and he peels everything else off of his body. Kneeling on the body and crawling over you, he kissing your breastbone.

“You’re beautiful, you know. Absolutely exquisite.”

“Thank you,” you reply, the first tears of happiness brimming at your eyelids. You can tell he isn’t lying, despite the fact that your first real conversation with him happened merely minutes earlier. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss his chin, up to his lips.

He hooks his hands around the backs of your knees, angling them until they are folded at his waist. You feel the heat coming from his cock, and you tremble at what’s to happen. He kisses your neck, sharp breaths coming from his nose.

“R-Ready?” he asks. You are comforted by the fact that he is as nervous as you.

“Yes.” You rest your lips against his, anticipating the sharp pain. He holds your hips still as his length pushes past its barriers and buries into you. Painfully slow, he pushes until he’s completely inside of you, your walls widening as it tries to fit him. Your face wrinkles in just a bit of pain, surprised at his size.

“Oh, oh wow,” you breathe, your hips lifting slightly and making him slip just a bit further. He groans at that moment and you follow with a moan of your own. “Go, Nicholas,” you tell him, the pain going away.

He moves, slowly at first, and his hands are holding you in place firmly. His fingers are long and angular and they press into your skin, thick parallel lines embedded into your skin. He slips out and back in, making you lick your lips. He’s phenomenal, the way he moves. His muscles move in time with his thrusts and his knees are giving out.

“You’re so, ohh, so wet and so incredibly warm. And sugar, you’re so t-tight. So good, so good.”

“Nicholas, just like th-that, yes! Oh yes, like that.” He starts moving faster, hitting your spot over and over again. He slips in and out so easily that the sound, slippery and wet, is all you can hear above your moans. His teeth graze your collarbone as he moves and you can feel his cock pulsate inside of you.

“So close,” he whispers, embarrassed.

“Let me be on top,” you beg, panting.

“What? No. I want to do this for you.”

“Nick, oh Nick, you’re doing it all for me. Just—” You groan, pushing his shoulder and rotating both your bodies. He slips out of you for just a second and you hold him, making him hiss as you grasp his length between your fingers. Leading him into you, you settle down on top of him and circle your hips.

“Oh, baby girl, so good. Just… mmff, perfect.” The new position lets him hit new spots and you throw your head back, every nerve in your body on fire. You yell, your moans growing in pitch and in number.

His hands fly to your hips, leading you up, down, and all around. His nails scratch into your hips, heightening the pleasure.

“Nick, just right there, yes!” you yelp, circling your hips over and over again. His nails dig deeper, leaving crescent shaped engravings in your skin. His thrusts come up to meet yours and you feel him throbbing as he comes to his end. Ropes of everything he has to offer fill you up, a warm wetness dripping down your inner thigh as you continue moving.

“Oh God,” he groans, writhing beneath you. His movements drive you crazy, hitting your spot just where you want it and you completely unravel right there. Your muscles tighten over and over again, tightening over his length as he comes. Your fingers curl, as do your toes. You lean over his body, scratching as his damp chest, your other hand tangling itself in his mop of hair.

You pull yourself off of him, whimpering at the loss of contact. You lay next to him, both of you with your legs hanging off the side of the bed. Your limbs are a tangle of tiredness, meshing together. Your chest heaves with each breath and when you look at Nick, you can see that you are breathing in sync – the breaths are fast and shallow.

He pulls you close to his body, your bare chest against his. He carries you with him to the pillow at the top of his bed, resting you on it. You lie down and look at him, his cheek against his palm and leaning on his elbow.

“What?” you ask innocently, tracing the line between his pectoral muscles.

“Most amazing thing.”

“That?” you chuckle, raising your eyebrows. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“No, I was talking about you,” he replies, kissing the tip of your nose and then the top curve of your lips. You smile at him as he lies down beside you.

“So what were you doing here in the first place?” you ask him a few minutes later.

“Hmm?” His eyelids are already heavy, sleep calling to him.

“You were up here while the party was still going on.”

“Oh,” he replies, a smile on his lips as he opens his eyes to look at you. “It was too painful to see you downstairs, so I decided to head to sleep early. I wasn’t lying when I said I’ve loved you for so long.”

At that, you kiss him. His temple, his cheek, then his lips.

“If I give you my heart,” you ask him carefully, “would you take care of it?”

He thinks about it and pulls your hand to his chest, lacing his fingers with yours.

“Like the most precious of jewels.”

He holds your hand tighter and you look past him, your eyes searching for the clock. Finding it, you smile at the time; it’s past midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Nicholas,” you say, kissing his lips chastely.

“Merry Christmas, my beautiful angel.”

What's this, a new, REQUESTED story? Ohh yeah!

2008-11-10T18:41:00.000-08:00

So, I think this is the first request that we've done. I'm not sure, but I'm pretty sure. :] Anyway, xwreckoftheday requested a Christmas Eve one and so I thought since I haven't written a OS in MONTHS, that I'd give it a whirl. So, be kind because, like I said, I haven't written one in months and I'm a little rusty.

Britt

'Eve'

Requested by: xwreckoftheday

Written by: Britt

You shiver as the two of you step into your house. It's below freezing outside, but he knows why you're really shaking.

"Are you okay?" he asks you gently, touching your coat covered shoulder.

You nod slightly and wrap your arms around yourself.

"I know it was scary, but it's over," he says.

"You don't know that," you sigh, turning to look at him.

He locks your door securely and bites his lip as he looks at you. "No," he admits.

"Then don't tell me it's over, Joe," you say.

"Okay," he says softly.

You know he's just trying to help, his voice staying quiet and non threatening. You walk over and sit on your couch, turning on every light on your way.

"You would think a restraining order would do something for some people," you say, thinking back to what had happened just hours earlier. Your ex showing up at the Christmas party, his yells and threats directed towards you and anyone who dared get in the way, the lack of security near you when he charged and wrapped his fingers around your neck.

"Hey," Joe says, knocking you out of your thoughts.

It had been Joe that finally got to you, getting your ex off of you and making sure he was removed from the party. The cut below his eye was nothing compared to the threats your ex had yelled at Joe on his way out of the party.

"I'm sorry, Joe," you say, touching your own cheek where his cut is.

"Don't be, you hear me? I'd much rather have him hit me than ever lay another hand on you," Joe says, sitting next to you.

"I-I know. It's just that I-I can't believe I never saw just how...angry he was during our entire relationship until-" You stop. You don't want to admit it out loud again.

"Until you left and he tracked you down," Joe finishes for you.

You nod. "Right. I did everything I could think to get rid of him, Joe. I called the cops when he was stalking me, I got a restraining order when he ignored the cops and then he goes and ignores the restraining order! I don't know what's left to do, Joe," you say, whispering loudly.

Joe's silent and you know he doesn't know, either.

"Look...I know it's scary not knowing where he is, what he's thinking or what he's been drinking, but...you just have to know that there are people in your life who will never let him hurt you again," Joe says, turning and looking at you.

You tilt your head and look at his emotion-filled eyes. His top lip is gently bitten, something he does when he's being very serious.

"Are you one of those people?" you ask him quietly.

"Always have been and always will be," he answers immediately.

"Thank you, Joe. You're one of my best friends and I'm...I'm glad you're in my life," you say, smiling gently.

"Ditto," Joe says, returning your smile.

"It's getting late," you sigh, glancing down at his watch.

"Hey, it's getting close to midnight," Joe says. "It's almost Christmas."

"I'll be glad when this Christmas Eve is in the past," you say, shuddering. "It wasn't how I thought it would be."

"I'm sorry he ruined it for you," Joe says.

"No, it's fine. Just something that I need to get past, you know?"

Joe nods and then stands, removing his coat before he sits back down.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Staying," Joe replies. "I'm going to sit here all night to make sure he doesn't show up."

"Joe," you say, shaking your head.

"You can't talk me out of this. I'll be here all night just in case you need me," he says, sliding his scarf off of his neck.

"Well, if there's one thing I know about you, it's that there's no talking you out of things once your mind's made up," you say, standing.

"You do know me," Joe smiles.

"The couch pulls out, as you well know. I'll get you a spare blanket and pillow," you say, walking down the hall to your linen closet. You take out a blanket and pillow and then turn, walking back down the hall.

Joe looks at you as he loosens his tie. "I wasn't planning on sleeping," he says.

"Just in case," you say, setting the blanket and pillow down on the coffee table.

"Look, I'll be right here, okay? Just call my name if you need me," Joe says.

You step over to him and lean down, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Thank you, Joe," you whisper into his ear.

His hands rest lightly on your back for a few seconds until you pull back. He kisses your cheek and you stand up, smiling lightly.

"Goodnight," you say, turning and walking back down the hall. You hear Joe bid you goodnight as you open your door and shut it securely behind you. You let out a emotion-filled sigh and close your eyes, trying to erase what had happened.

"It's over," you tell yourself. "It's over."

Hours later you open you eyes and stare at the ceiling. You listen intently at the soft noise coming from downstairs, trying to figure out what it is. Knowing you'd get no sleep with the thought of your ex breaking in, you get out of bed and carefully open your door, peering down the hall. You can see soft light from your living room, the noise obviously coming from the TV.

"Joe?" you whisper, taking a step out of your bedroom nad pulling your long night shirt down a little.

You don't hear any movement from the living room, so you take another couple of steps forward.

"Joe?" you call out a little louder.

You let out a breath of relief when you see him lean over on the couch and come into view.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"Nothing," you say, walking into the living room.

"What?" Joe asks, looking mildly confused.

"I just couldn't sleep," you say quietly, sitting next to Joe on the couch.

"Oh," he says.

"What are you watching?" you ask, pulling your knees up to your chin.

"Um...Food Network," Joe says, turning the volume down.

You chuckle quietly and shake your head. Shivering a little, you look over to your right and smile when you see he has plugged your Christmas tree in.

"I love Christmas lights," you say dreamily, turning your body so you're looking at the tree.

"Me too. I couldn't resist not plugging it in," Joe says.

You feel him shift behind you and you lean back into his chest. His arms wrap around you comfortingly and you smile.

"Can I ask you something?" Joe asks, and you hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Of course," you reply.

"Why did you stay with him for so long?"

Your eyes linger on the Christmas tree as you try to think of a way to explain.

"I don't know," you sigh. "I was with him for so long that it felt like where I belonged."

"He was horrible to you, though," Joe says, his voice lowering a little.

"I didn't realize that until I was ready for the relationship to end, Joe. Up until that it was, well, normal," you say.

"I don't see how that's normal. You know if it were me with you," he says, and you feel his heat beat quicken slightly.

"What?" you ask curiously.

"I would just never do things like that to you. I would never raise my voice, nor my hand. I'd treat you like a princess and just love you day in and day out, never once taking you for granted," Joe says, looking down at you.

You tilt your head up and meet his eyes. "You're the sweetest guy I know, Joe."

"You're the sweetest girl I've ever known," Joe whispers. "You deserve so much better than him."

Your eyes linger on each other's for a moment and the increasing speed of his heart against your back makes you curious.

"Your heart's pounding," you say, laying a hand over his heart.

"I know," he says quietly.

"Why?" you ask, turning your body so you're facing each other, you on your knees and Joe sitting, his upper body angled towards you.

"I was just...thinking as I was saying those things," Joe says, his voice cracking.

"About what? What it'd be like to be with me?" you ask him.

"Yes," he nods.

"Oh," you simply say.

"Um, maybe you should try and get some sleep," Joe says, running a hand through his hair.

"Joe," you say, tilting your head and cupping his face gently.

"Mm?" he asks, looking at you carefully.

"You make me feel so safe, Joe," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Wh- Do I?"

"Yes," you nod.

"I'm glad," he says, kissing your cheek in return.

You smile at him gently and let your eyes scan his features. You take your time, somehow feeling like you're looking at him for the first time. Your breath quickens as your eyes move down his chest and even further, noticing he's in his t-shirt and boxers only.

Joe takes in an even breath, letting it out slowly as if trying to contain himself.

You wet your lips and look up at him, the look in his eyes unmistakable. His adam's apple jerks as he swallows, his eyes looking you over.

"Wh-What are we...d-doing?" Joe asks as you move over and straddle him.

"I don't know," you admit.

His hands rest gently on your hips, and you know it's incase you fall backwards.

"I just...wanted to see," you say shyly, tipping your head down and inhaling his scent.

His heart pounds in your ear and you move your head up slowly, letting your nose glide along his neck. He shudders and you smile when you feel his fingers dig into your hips.

"O-Okay...okay, stop," Joe says, his voice frantic.

"What?" you ask, sitting on his thighs and setting your hands on his shoulders. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong. It's just...I don't think this is a good idea. You're emotional, I'm very sexually frustrated and we're friends," Joe explains.

"It's just a kiss, Joe. Just one kiss," you tell him.

"You don't know how bad I want this kiss, you don't. I just don't know if one kiss is where I can stop," Joe says, trying not to look at you.

"Just one kiss," you tell him again, setting your forehead on his.

His breath quickens and his hands slide up your sides, gripping your back.

"Just one," he says, his voice shaking, matching his trembling arms.

You smile slightly and your heads tilt together, your breaths hitting each other.

"Just one," he whispers again, most likely trying to convince himself.

Your lips touch carefully and you set your lips on his bottom lip, biting down gently before releasing it and kissing him slowly. His arms wrap around your back and neck and he deepens the kiss. Your tounges touch seconds later and you lift your body up, moving against him even more. Joe's hands slide down to your hips and he pulls you down on him gently. You sit, straddling him fully now, and you can feel his painfully hard erection desperately trying to escape from its enclosure.

"Shit. Shit, okay. O-Okay, that was...that was one k-kiss," Joe says, pulling away and swallowing hard.

"Just one more," you say, kissing his throat.

He moans quietly and his hips buck against yours as your tounge swirls down and along his collarbones.

"One more," Joe says, a hand tangling in your hair before he pulls your lips to his again and kisses you deeply, almost frantic like.

The kiss becomes slow soon, and you savor the taste and feel of him as you moan quietly into his mouth. Joe moans in return, his hands sliding up your thighs and gripping your panties. You sit up on your knees a little, taking his hands and helping him to pull them down.

"We shouldn't," Joe says against your lips.

"It's still the same kiss," you say, your lips still touching.

Joe captures your bottom lip with his teeth and sucks on it gently while he pulls your underwear down as far as he can. Never breaking the kiss you stand up somewhat and help him remove the item completely. Straddling him again, quickly, you run your tounge along his top lip until he releases your bottom lip, and you resume the slow, deep kiss. Sliding your hands down slowly, you slip your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and lift your body, sliding his boxers down to his knees.

"Fuck," Joe says against your lips. "Stop."

"Why?" you ask, your lips resting against each other.

"I don't want this to ruin us. If this goes any further there's no turning back," Joe says, running his hands through your hair and setting them on either side of your face.

"I don't want to turn back," you tell him, your heart pounding and your body aching.

You look at each other, lips barely touching, waiting.

"Me either," Joe sighs, kissing you again.

You break the kiss seconds later, before it got too deep, and pull his shirt over his head. You tangle your finger in his hair and press your lips to his. He grips your hips tightly, pulling you down towards his throbbing self.

"Please," you say against his lips.

He nods slightly and with tremlbing fingers he pulls your aching core closer to where you desperately want it.

"Look at me," he says.

You look at him, your fingers still tight in his hair, and your jaw drops slowly as you feel him entering you carefully. You take in a deep breath as your walls mold around his size, and your head tips back once he can't go any further.

"Oh," Joe moans, barely above a whisper.

You look back at Joe and let him raise you up a little, then pull you back down on him. You both shudder and are silent, staring at each other as you move slowly. You bite your lip as you grind your hips against his, and his hands immediately grip your nightshirt, keeping your hips down.

"Just...give me a second," he pleads, his eyes screwed shut tightly.

"No," you breathe. "I want this with no holding back."

He shakes his head a little, and you rotate your hips in a small circle. He hisses, his hands helping you move up and down along his length slowly. His eyes are still shut tightly, his lips parted as you overtake him.

"Oh God," he whimpers, letting out a shaky breath.

Sweat forms on your back as you move, your fingers gripping his shoulders tightly now.

"Joe," you moan, your voice barely audible.

His head tilts back, his back arching off the couch as his hips buck against yours. You moan at the feeling and your hips move a little faster.

"Ahh," Joe groans softly, bucking his hips roughly.

The room is oddly quiet, the two of you sneaking glances at each other as you move, the quiet, almost embarrased moans become a little more frequent, and the Christmas tree lights reflecting off your damp skin. You ride him smoothly, your hips moving up and down quicker than before. You press your lips to his neck and moan quietly into his skin.

"Jesus," Joe breathes, his hands moving under your shirt and cupping your breasts.

You flinch at the contact and your lips part in delight as his thumbs brush against your nipples. You feel the ache in your core beginning to throb and you can't help but to drag your teeth along Joe's collarbones. His hips jerk against yours, and it's almost enough to send you over the edge. You grip his member tightly and you hear Joe moan lowly, his hands moving down to your hips. He moves you over his throbbing erection quickly and both your heads fall back, your moans matching.

"Oh God, I'm so close," Joe says.

You tip your head up and look at him, his skin flushed and his breathing labored. Your eyes wander down to the hard muscles of his abdomen and the hardness that is inside of you.

"Fuck, Joe," you moan loudly, hanging your head and closing your eyes as you feel yourself beginning to let go.

You feel his nails scratch your back gently as his hands move once again to your hips, pulling and pushing them to his desire, you just along for the ride. His legs widen a little and he thrusts up into you slowly as his hands move your hips. You couldn't speak now even if you wanted to. Your mind is overcome with bliss and all you can do is moan as he pushes you further and further over the edge.

"Ohh yes," Joe moans, his body shaking lightly as he thrusts.

You feel yourself beginning to explode and seconds later you hear yourself scream, your core pulsing around Joe's member. You continue to moan far longer than any time ever before, your orgasm lengthening when you feel Joe's back arch once more as he spills all he has to offer inside of you with a loud moan and a groan of your name.

The aftershocks seem to last for hours, the two of you holding each other close tightly, your hips rocking against the other's as wave after wave overcomes the two of you. After what seems like an eternity the two of you finally fall still, the room loud with your hard breathing. Slowly you open your eyes and you look at each other, your skin flushed and sensitive. Joe offers a gentle smile and you return it, kissing him gently. Joe lifts you off of him slowly and the two of you lie down on the couch, facing each other. Joe pulls the blanket up and over your bodies and lets his fingers roam over the skin of your face, neck and chest.

"Mmm," you sigh, closing your eyes in satisfaction.

"Hey," Joe says, touching your cheek.

You open your eyes and look at him with raised eyebrows.

"It's 11:58," he smiles.

"What?" you ask, confused.

"It's still Christmas Eve."

"Oh," you say, nodding.

"Do you...still want Christmas Eve to be something that you just have to get past? S-Something you're looking forward to to be gone?" he asks carefully, biting his bottom lip.

"No," you answers quickly. "No, Joe, no. This was amazing. You are amazing. I...I never want to forget this Christmas Eve."

You hear him let out a sigh of relief and he pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I don't want to forget, either."

You smile and wrap your arms around him the best that you can knowing that for now, at least, you are safe and loved on Christmas Eve.

What is kinky?

2008-11-02T21:57:00.000-08:00

kinky - showing or appealing to bizarre or deviant tastes

Alright, so can some of you help me out? I don't really know how the most of you define the word kinky. If you mean anything along the lines of handcuffs, scarves, BDSM, etc, please say that. Lmao, I know I'm really, really slow when it comes to that, but I really need some explanations for the requests that say 'kinky' because we've posted stories that included some form of what I believe is kinkiness.

So if you've got a request that has something to do with that, please be relatively specific :p.

Don't forget to leave requests if you have them, either on the previous post or even on this one. Thanks for all the love, everyone! :]

Hey, guys, hey...

2008-10-26T23:00:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the DMG’s first REQUEST POST. This is the place to comment if you have a certain story in mind that you wish one of us to write. Reasons for this are a) some of us are experiencing writer’s block and just need a little push to get started again, b) we’re itching to write, but have nothing to write about, or c) because you are the reason we’re here. We owe it to you to get your requests done and damn it, we’re going to try to deliver. But you have to understand, try is the operative word. Like I said in a previous post, we’re all pretty busy because of college and midterms are coming up, etc. Whatever the case may be, we cannot promise that your request will be fulfilled.

All we ask as you post a comment here is:
--Which Jonas [or if you’d like it open-ended, please indicate that]
--You story, or a fictional character with a name? Please keep in mind that it’s sometimes awkward to write in people simply because it’s more difficult to create fictional characters with a person in mind.

Thanks, everyone. And I’d like to extend a thank you to everyone who loves and supports this blog, as well as the DMGs. We’re very appreciative and honestly, a simple thank you does not suffice, but it will have to.

Also, people from here as well as other sites have been asking if we can be linked to from their personal myspaces, livejournals, websites, etc. The answer is YES! because we love our work to be seen and what better way to do that than to ‘advertise’ through the people who read our stories? So thank you, thank you, thank you.

By the way, I – Deejae – am working on some new stories. Hopefully, they’ll be up relatively soon – that most likely means it won’t be up until December. :P Well, I want to work on some holiday-esque oneshots, so hopefully I’ll be able to finish them.

As for my Kevin oneshot, Italy, I apologize. I’ve been telling people that I won’t be working on a sequel to it and it sucks because so many people told me they loved that one. Well, I guess I’ll go back on my word and really try to work on a sequel, okay? I guess that’s just how much I love you all. [:

<3

Selfish

2008-10-26T22:52:00.000-07:00

And here's yet another one from me, Deejae. I hope you enjoy it. It's actually relatively long, so please bear with it. [:<3

The music comes out of the speakers in loud thumps. The subwoofers are shaking with the impact of the sound, and her ears are now ringing. It’s almost painful, the way the vibrations are coursing through her body and creating a sensation deep in her stomach. Distracting herself with small conversations, she sways her hips left and right – occasionally moving forward and back – as her eyes scan the overflowing ballroom. People are talking, fighting for their voices to be heard over the music.

The rhythm of the music is quick, matching the beats of her heart. Small strands of hair are sticking to her forehead with sweat, and the long waves falling over her shoulders are beginning to stick to her damp neck. She laughs as one of her oldest friends points at her chest, adjusting her dress discreetly when she realizes her cleavage is fighting against the restraints of her black dress.

The deejay changes records, scratching the discs to disguise the switch, and a soft melody plays through the hall, echoing on the mirrored walls. She’s suddenly taken in by exhaustion, her chest heaving with every breath she takes. It has been over an hour and a half since she had arrived to the album release party, but the hosts were nowhere to be seen. Her expression changes from excitement to confusion, and the subtle shift in emotion is caught by one of the people around her.

“They’re talking to the press,” Katie tells her with a soft smile. Even in the low, flashing blue light, it is obvious that her disposition has changed. Silently excusing herself, she walks alone to the bar and orders a glass of wine. The bartender gives her a look, but is instantly charmed by her glistening skin and girlish smile. He hands her the drink and she replies with a simple nod. The cold refreshment rushes down her throat hurriedly and she closes her eyes at the feeling.

“Oh, hey! The boys are here!” She finally opens her eyes, realizing for the first time that she has turned her back on the party and is facing the wall. Turning, the cool air brushing against her heated skin as she does so, she sees the three reasons that she’s even here in the first place. Everyone is cheering for them: “Boys, we’re so proud of you!” “It feels like you just released your first album last year, doesn’t it?!” “Speech! Speech! Speech!”

It’s the eleventh day of August in the year two-thousand and nine. She smiles, tears welling in her eyes as she remembers that this is the party in celebration of their fourth album’s release. She had been there since the beginning, even during times when every record label was turning away from them. She had been one of the first calls with the news that Hollywood Records had picked them up. She is here.

Time seems to pass by much quicker than before as she listens to their short, short speeches. Nick looks like he’s about to cry, obviously a change as opposed to his usual lack of expression. He gives a short speech showing his gratitude to his family, God, their managers, and everyone else who had supported them to this point – she swears that she hears a small crack in his voice as he says his last thank you.

Joseph speaks and it seems like her world has just paused. The bravado of his voice comes through the speakers and her knees tremble, the strength in her legs failing her as he tells a joke that she was too distracted to hear. People roar in laughter and he puts his hand up, hushing them before giving a sincere, “Thank you for everything that everyone here has done. Each person in here has helped us these past four or five years. We honestly couldn’t be here if not for the grace of God and the help of you amazing people. T-Thank you.”

His voice is shaking and it’s at this point that she notices the tears stinging her cheeks. Her smile breaks through the tears, but she can’t control her sobs. Luckily enough for her, everyone else’s feet are shuffling around and heels are clicking so loudly against the dance floor, the noises disguise hers.

She finds herself closer to Joe than to the other boys in the Jonas family. Years ago, she thought that their relationship would have caused a hindrance in their connection to each other. They were both no younger than fifteen when they had started dating, and no older than sixteen when they decided to end their relationship. It was a mutual decision, but it still hurt the same as any other breakup. But now nineteen years old, they found comfort in each other. They found solace in each other. It wasn’t until two years after their relationship had ended, the night of her eighteenth birthday that they found perfect lovers in each other.

Their first time had been magical and complete. He wasn’t rough with her, but his small lack of placidity sent her nerves into somewhere distant; a place where complete and utter pleasure filled her every core. His hips moved rhythmically with the soft ballad playing in the background. She had been afraid after hearing so many horror stories from her good friends; stories of the pain that accompanied a woman’s first time, the empty feeling that resulted in an equally empty relationship, and the way a relationship was never the same after having sex.

She didn’t think of it that way, though. It was perfect; oh, so perfect. Standing here in this moment, thinking of their first time, she smiles. He’s still talking – slowly, just like he always does when he wants people to really hear him – and she’s hugging herself, swaying side to side as she half-listens and half-daydreams.

She remembers the way his damp skin electrified her own when they touched; the way his fingers moved over her swollen, inviting clit; the way the guttural moan escaped his throat; the way his hips thrashed against hers over, and over, and over again. She memorizes every dip in his muscles. She knows by heart every curve of his body. And what she thinks is the best piece of knowledge, she knows every sensitive patch of skin that, when kissed – or touched, or licked – makes him growl in absolute bliss. She bites her lip remembering, her skin flushing as her fingers involuntarily brush over the exposed skin on her arms. Her eyes are closed, her knees buckling, her inner thighs becoming slippery—

“Hi, everybody!” someone’s voice cheerily exclaims into the microphone. Her eyes open hastily, her arms straightening at her sides as she clears her throat. The heat of her skin cools as her blood runs cold, her breath leaving her; she sees Kevin taking center stage, laughing heartily after Joe whispers something to him.

As long as she’s known him, there has always been an awkward, noticeable tension between her and Kevin. She never knew where it came from, but all she knows right now is that whenever Kevin is in the room, her chest tightens and every muscle in her body seems to go stiff.

“I think my brothers have basically said everything I wanted to say. You’ve all been such huge, huge blessings to us; you’re all so amazing and I think simply saying ‘thank you’ isn’t enough. But… too bad that’s all I can say!” he laughs, everyone joining in the jolly mood. He says a few more words, but she was lost after the word blessings. She sighed as she applauded for them, watching with a smile as they stepped off of the stage.

More dancing ensued, but she soon finds herself wandering the ballroom alone, smiling at everyone she passes. Her heels click against the floor and she sighs when she reaches the thinly carpeted area of the massive room. Slowly walking between chairs and tables, she reaches the end of the room and looks back. Everyone looks absolutely ecstatic, and she can’t help but smile. It’s an overwhelming feeling, the pride she has for her friends and the anticipation she has of their future.

Her feet start throbbing in pain, almost calling out to her for some kind of alleviation. She winces as she starts to walk again, looking around before stepping out of the offending shoes. Her eyelids grow heavy as she lets out a sigh of relief, stretching her back and walking out of the ballroom. Walking down the hallway, she steps in front of the elevator and presses the button. Waiting for it to come, she checks up and down the hall before reaching into her cleavage for her hotel key. She discreetly laughs to herself, remembering the call she got from Joe two weeks ago.

“Hey, hey, girlfriend!” Joe’s voice sings through her voicemail. “So, dig it: you, me… my brothers,” he coughs, quieting his voice when he says the last two words, “August eleventh, homegirl. Can you believe our fourth album is coming out in two weeks?! So here’s the deal: I reserved a room for you at the Ritz and you’re coming over to stay with us. The party’s in the hotel ballroom, so bring your hottest dress. I mean, eye candy, okay? Then maybe we can have a little party of our own?”

A bell sounds as the doors of the elevator separate. Her feet move an inch before she gasps when two hands weave around her waist. Two firm arms press into her ribs and a hand finds itself braiding through her hair. The fragrance surrounds her, swimming into her nostrils and she sucks in a lungful of air, basking in the smell of old spice and aftershave. Her eyes open, finally recognizing that these arms around her body don’t belong to Joe.

PART II:

Her feet start throbbing in pain, almost calling out to her for some kind of alleviation. She winces as she starts to walk again, looking around before stepping out of the offending shoes. Her eyelids grow heavy as she lets out a sigh of relief, stretching her back and walking out of the ballroom. Walking down the hallway, she steps in front of the elevator and presses the button. Waiting for it to come, she checks up and down the hall before reaching into her cleavage for her hotel key. She discreetly laughs to herself, remembering the call she got from Joe two weeks ago.

“Hey, hey, girlfriend!” Joe’s voice sings through her voicemail. “So, dig it: you, me… my brothers,” he coughs, quieting his voice when he says the last two words, “August eleventh, homegirl. Can you believe our fourth album is coming out in two weeks?! So here’s the deal: I reserved a room for you at the Ritz and you’re coming over to stay with us. The party’s in the hotel ballroom, so bring your hottest dress. I mean, eye candy, okay? Then maybe we can have a little party of our own?”

A bell sounds as the doors of the elevator separate. Her feet move an inch before she gasps when two hands weave around her waist. Two firm arms press into her ribs and a hand finds itself braiding through her hair. The fragrance surrounds her, swimming into her nostrils and she sucks in a lungful of air, basking in the smell of old spice and aftershave. Her eyes open, finally recognizing that these arms around her body don’t belong to Joe.

“I knew you’d realize it sooner or later,” the owner of the arms chuckles. “Until then, I would’ve let you keep thinking I was Joe.”

“K-Kevin?” she asks, her voice trembling. “What a—ohh…” She hisses as she grits her teeth, sucking in a sharp breath of air when he tugs her hair to the right and sucks on her pulse. His tongue draws circles on her skin and he pulls his mouth away from her, blowing cold air on the light hickey forming on her neck. Kevin laughs to himself, kissing her jaw line softly. “What?” she says.

“I’m surprised.”

“At what?”

“You haven’t told me to go away.” She ponders the idea, then finally realizes it; she understands what exactly that tension was between them: sexual tension. She wants to laugh, but decides against it, replacing the laugh with a smile.

“Maybe I don’t want you to go away.”

“Mmm,” he says, the bravado of his voice making his Adam’s apple vibrate against her neck as his lips trail lower and down to her breastbone. His chest is pressed against hers, the knot in his tie pressing into her spine. Their breaths are surprisingly in sync and as if she can’t control her own movements, her hands reach behind her and fist the fabric of his loose dress pants.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, a moan accompanying his words. “I bet you taste so good, huh? Mm, do you?” His words make her breath hitch in her throat and she whimpers when his hands cups her breast. She feels the texture of his warm hands as they coax her nipple into an embarrassing hardness. He feels this happening and smirks against her skin.“Kevin, th-there are cameras ev—oh, wow,” she exhales. “There are cameras everywhere.”

“Let’s take this upstairs then, hmm?” He leans forward and presses the button after noticing the doors had closed once again. She nods her head and holds up her hotel cardkey, pathetically waving it in the air like a flag of surrender. His hands rise to meet hers and he tightens his hold around her hand. She licks her lips, wanting to feel his against her own. Pushing her into the elevator, he stumbles over her and presses the correct button.

“Oh, sure,” he smiles at her shocked expression, “as if Joe could handle making reservations on his own. Of course he had to enlist my help, so I ended up reserving your room,” he says, explaining exactly how he knows which floor her room is on.

His hair is tidily combed back, sans hair product much to her happiness. She bites her lip and leans against the mirrored wall of the elevator, the inconveniently placed bar pressing painfully into her lower back. Reaching forward, her hands grasp Kevin’s collar before pulling him to her. His watch makes a loud sound as it hits the bar, his hands pressing into the wall when she crashes his body against hers. His hips accidentally brush hers, making her moan when his erection comes into contact with her thigh.

“For me?” she says, her hand sliding between the bodies and palming his excitement.

“Oh shit,” he breathes, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Maneuvering her tongue around his bitten lip, she pulls it into her mouth and sucks harshly. It begins to swell as she does this, his thin lips fighting to gain dominance over hers.

They reach her floor and the doors open, an elderly couple waiting patiently on the other side. Kevin smiles at them and nods his head before taking her hand and pulling her to her room. The couple gives them a knowing look, and they laugh. The keycard twirls between her fingers before slipping into the electronic lock. The green light blinks three times and she lets out a breath before opening the door. She nearly falls over her suitcases when she steps into the room, blushing when she remembers she had no time to tidy up before the party.

“I don’t think you know how beautiful you are in that dress,” Kevin says, holding her arms out and giving her a onceover. “But, baby girl, I’m sure you’d be even more beautiful out of it.”

She laughs a hearty laugh knowing that coming from anyone else, it would have been pathetic. But for some reason, from Kevin it’s undoubtedly romantic. His hand slips down to her lower back and his other intertwines fingers with hers. Swaying to the beat of his heart, he hums a small tune and dances with her. Her head rests on his chest, his cheek on the top of her head, and they dance to the music of their own souls.

She feels so selfish, but so lucky at the same time. In the past ten minutes, she’s experienced sides of Kevin no one has ever been blessed enough to see. He’s been rough with her, but just. Now he’s being the helpless romantic he is, and she’s falling under his spell. Everyone mistakes his disposition to be overly flamboyant, but she knows that it’s just a cover for the raging animal beneath his softly freckled skin.

His fingers dig into her spine, pulling her closer. He whispers, “I want you to myself tonight. Just me, okay? Is that all right, my love?” He kisses her temple, not able to look her in the eye as he waits for his answer.

Cupping his cheeks with her palms, she pulls his face close to her and kisses his forehead, then his nose, then just the surface of his lips. “You can have me for as long as you’d like,” she says truthfully, her breath mixing with his as they stand there motionless for a few minutes.

For the first time tonight, their lips finally envelop each other in a passionate kiss. Neither of them are fighting for dominance, instead they are moving to the beat of two drums that are in sync; a rhythm that is known only to them. It is soft at first, both of them feeling like they’re treading dangerous waters. But as moments pass by, the heat builds and they find the kiss growing deeper and deeper. Her heart jumps when she feels the zipper of her dress being pulled down.

“Kevin,” she breathes, her lips moist and swollen when he pulls away and leaves a small kiss on her jaw. The undone zipper loosens the dress, making it fall into a puddle of fabric at her feet. Her plump breasts bounce in her poorly supported bra, the absence of her dress making the bra almost useless. He looks her over again, wanting to memorize the way her body looks; the way her body is when no one else can see her.

Pursing his lips, he leaves a long line of wetness down her chest and between her breasts, kissing every inch of skin he can as he falls to his knees. His hands rest on the curve of her hips, his thumbs curving under the thin fabric of her panty’s waistband. His tongue drags across her hipbone as he pulls the lacy fabric down, and she moans when his teeth graze the peak of the bone.

He mumbles something against her skin and she laughs quietly, unable to understand what he’s saying. Her skin is warm, her breath caught in her throat, and her hands buried in his hair. Walking on his knees, Kevin pushes her over to the bed, leading her to sit on it. She feels the redness of her cheeks darkening as she realizes that she is sitting there in her completely naked form, nothing on her body except a thin diamond necklace, a small ring, and a matching bracelet.

“Gorgeous,” Kevin breathes, kneeling between her legs. He brushes her bangs out of her eyes, kissing her lips and letting it linger. She lets out a breath that she had been holding, resting her hands on Kevin’s shoulders.

“Are you sure you want this, Kevin?” she asks, her voice heartbreakingly quiet – she feels almost as if she’s taking advantage of him.

“I want you,” he says, her name escaping his mouth in a voice so angelic that it makes her sigh. “Of course I want this. But, do you?”

“I couldn’t imagine anyone better,” she tells him.

“E-Even Joe?” Kevin asks, his eyes drooping slightly. Her jaw drops and his hand touches her chin, making her mouth close. “There’s nothing going on between you, right?”

“Nothing at all, Kevin. We just… I felt comfortable with him, and I thought that my first time should be with someone I trust.”

“Do you trust me?” She thinks carefully about her answer before looking at him. It wasn’t until this moment that she realizes just how dim the light is in the room.

“I trust you, Kevin. Until now, I didn’t really understand just what this feeling was between us.” She shivers, the cold air hitting her now. “But now I know that I never realized what feelings I had for you.” A tear rests at her eyelid and before it can slide down her cheek, Kevin’s thumb stops it. He smiles at her, pulling her face towards his.

“You’re mine tonight,” he whispers, his lips catching hers before she can utter a statement. His tongue runs past her lips and she gladly takes it in, suctioning it. He emits a groan so loud, her mind swirls. She barely feels his hand brushing up her leg as he parts her thighs, allowing more room for him. His fingers dance on her bare stomach and she throws her head back when she feels his other hand on her inner thigh. He sits up higher, his knees starting to hurt against the rough fabric of his dress pants.

Resting back on her elbows, she yelps when Kevin’s tongue circles one of her erect nipples and pulls it into his mouth. Sucking on it with his soft tongue, his lips surround it gently and when he pulls away, a loud smack results. Her body is completely taken into his grasp and she doesn’t see when his fingers trail up to her core. She groans when two fingers enter her, her warmth accepting Kevin. He bites his bottom lip as he pulls them out of her, then back in.

“Baby, baby, you’re s-soaked,” he says, his voice erotic. His fingers probe around inside of her – curling, uncurling, curling, uncurling, again and again. He finds the spot that makes her tremble, his discovery evident through the way her back arches and a loud, loud moan escaping her lips. She’s on the edge, feeling the sensation in her belly as she comes close to her climax.

“Oh, no, baby. Not yet,” he smirks, pulling his fingers out of her. She lifts her head and looks at him, watching with shallow breaths as he takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks gently. “Mm, so good,” he moans. Still on his knees, he comes closer to her and loops his arms around her lower half, her legs over his shoulders.

“Kevin, wh—ohhh.” Her voice stops and her mouth opens as his tongue swirls around her swollen clit. Closing her lips around the small nub, he sucks as his fingers find their way back into her. Circling his fingers and licking her, sucking her, kissing her there, he basks in the scent of her. She’s so sweet, so sensual, so intoxicating. Her fingers claw at the bed sheets and he hears her nails against the fabric. He laughs.

“Fuck, oh God.” Her voice escapes her, his fingers, his mouth, and the vibrations of his laugh sending her nerves flying. Her hips start circling into his mouth, fighting against it as she rotates in the opposite direction of him. Kevin knows that her climax is close by the way her body moves.

“Come on, sweetheart. Come for me, baby girl, come on,” he coaxes. His tongue and mouth work around her sensitive spot once again, but this time he hums. The vibration of his mouth sends her just where she needs to be and she groans loudly, her head thrown back as she gets sent into her high. Every inch of her trembles as she rides out her orgasm, his tongue never stopping – nor do his fingers. It seems like hours until she comes down from her intense fit of pleasure, her descent accompanied by laughter.

“Kevin, you’re a-amazing,” she says, looking at him with weak eyes. She wants to laugh, seeing his face between her legs in such a vulnerable position. She then frowns. “You’ve been fully clothed all this time?” she exclaims. The corners of his mouth lift into a large smile, his head nodding; the curls on his head shake with the movement. “Stand up.”

He does as he’s told, smiling with his lip bitten when her legs wrap around his thighs. Pulling on his tie, she pulls herself up to a sitting position and undoes the tie.

“As deliciously gorgeous as you are right now, I think you’re a wee bit overdressed.” Pulling the tie out of its knot, she tosses it to the side. His popped collar stands just above his chin and she unbuttons his dress shirt, smiling at the collar. “You look so sexy, baby. You should wear stuff like this more often.” Slipping her hands onto his chest, she pushes the vest and shirt off of his arms, leaving him in a form-fitting tank. “Oh dear God, Kevin,” she hisses, biting her lip as her chest heaves up and down with her shallow breaths. “Your a-arms… your muscles… you…” She can’t take it anymore as she quickly pulls the shirt up and over his head, unzipping his pants and pulling them down with his boxers. Kicking them away with his shoes, Kevin looks down at her.

With her sitting on the bed and Kevin standing in front of her, his midsection is at her eyelevel. She’s surprised she didn’t unfold yet again at the sight of his throbbing member. She bites her lip as she holds her hand out and touches the tip of it, smirking when Kevin hisses. Kissing the tip of it, she licks her palm and holds him, stroking slowly as he lets out a moan. His head falls back, his mouth open and his eyes closed.

“Fuck,” he groans, bucking his hips into her hand and mouth. “It feels s-so good, baby girl.” When she lets go, he looks at her expectantly.

“I,” she starts, crawling backwards on the bed, “want… you…” Her voice is deep, desire lacing every syllable. She points at him and coaxes him over to her with her index finger, curling it towards her. He kneels on the bed, crawling so his body is hovering above her. Resting back on her elbows yet again, she waits until his face is millimeters from hers. “Kevin…” She traces his jaw line with her index finger. “I want you inside of me, moving around so I can feel you everywhere. Can you do that for me, babe?” Her tongue darts out of her mouth and glides along his bottom lip. She smirks when he swallows hard.

“I can do anything your heart desires, baby girl.” Her legs wrap around his waist and his throbbing member presses into her thigh. “Take me,” he whispers.

Wrapping her hand around him, she positions him at her entrance and pushes forward, groaning when his tip pushes into her. Biting his lip, he slowly presses on, pushing in until she’s buried to the hilt. He watches her changing expression, the pained look on her face almost unbearable.

“I-I’m fine,” she says, trying to convince both him and herself. “Just move and I’ll be fine.”

He nods, holding her hip with one hand. Pulling out of her and pushing back in, he whispers, “Oh, God”, when he feels her fully for the first time. His hips move to a rhythm unknown to him, painfully slow and countering the rapid beating of his heart in his chest.

“Kevin, you feel so good,” she says, her voice coming out in a pleasurable moan. “Please, please move faster.”

His hips move faster, his skin hitting hers and making a small smacking noise. He looks down, watching himself disappear inside of her, come out, and disappear all over again; it’s like their own little game. Rotating his hips, he grins when she lets out a loud growl of, “Yes! Ohhh yes! Right there, Kevin, r-right there. Oh God, yes.”

She feels him hit her spot repeatedly, his cock sliding easily against her tight walls. Her muscles spasm over him, his nerves on fire. She can’t remember ever feeling like this and she’s enjoying it to no end. His breathing and ragged moans escape his mouth, his throat, like a sweet, sweet song.

“I’m so close, baby,” he says, almost regretting it.

“Me, too, Kevin. Me, too. Don’t worry. Just, mmm, keep moving.”

He does just as she asks, every movement he makes resulting in a loud moan, a wild groan, and bucks of her hips. It’s not long before her walls come crashing down, her arms flailing above her head searching for something to scratch it. Her hands find his back and her nails scratch down his shoulder blades, his hips, his ass – every piece of skin that she can get her hold on.

Her piercing touch electrifies Kevin and he’s sent over the edge and back again. Spilling everything that he can into her, he rides out his orgasm by pulling in, out, in, out, over and over again. He grinds his teeth, growling her name into her ear as he comes wildly. Finally crawling off of her, he tries to catch his breath, his throat dry and sore – much like other parts of his body. She cold air hits their damp skin, making them shiver.

“Holy…”

“Oh, my God, Kevin. You are so—”

“You’re better,” he interrupts her. Smiling, he lifts her up deeper into the bed and tucks the both of them into the sheets. Resting his head on the pillow, he loosely wraps an arm around her neck and breathes in the scent of her shampoo when she rests her head on his bare chest. Playing with the soft hairs on the planes of his chest, she kisses the valley between his pectoral muscles.

“We have to go back downstairs sooner or later. That party is, after all, in celebration of you and your brothers’ success.” She speaks against his skin, the warmth of her lips making him flinch.

“I think I’d rather stay here,” he says, yawning. He reaches down to the floor and pulls his phone out of his pocket, setting the alarm for twenty minutes later. “For now, let’s nap.”

Sitting up and hovering her face over his, she smiles and leans in, kissing him deeply. Her ears fill with the sound of his moans and she pulls away. He whimpers at the loss of contact, but looks at her with a look of love in his eyes.

“And now,” she yawns, too, “we can nap.”

They do just that.

Promise

2008-10-26T22:30:00.000-07:00

Hey, it's me... Deejae. [: Sorry the oneshots have been so scarce lately. I guess life's been taking its toll on us. The other DMGs are in colleg whilst I just started and already, it's been a bitch. :P So here's another one. I bring you, Promise.

Burying herself deep into the corner of her couch, she hugs her knees to her chest and tightens the fleece quilt around her body. She curses herself for deciding to watch the late-night horror movie channel. Her eyes flicker over to the digital clock on her entertainment system and the neon numbers mockingly dance across her eyes.

2:27. She desperately wants to sleep, but the movie is playing nonstop; she doesn't dare to move out of her warm seat on the sofa. The movie has been playing for nearly half an hour and the villain of the movie has just killed his seventh victim. She hates that she's turned on this movie and she wonders how on Earth she got to this channel and decided to stay on it.

Suddenly, there's a sound; a soft, almost inaudible knock.

Her head snaps to the left as she looks towards her door. With the late hour, her blinds are shut and the curtains are drawn. She can't see any shadows, but she knows something's there. It's been only two weeks since she moved into this new apartment and she's never encountered any strange occurrences in the middle of the night.

Her heart races, almost as if threatening to beat out of her chest. She reaches for her remote on the coffee table and jumps when a screech emits from her television screen. Her own scream rings in her ears, sounding loudly over the movie. She hears yet another knock and she goes weak at the knees, thinking her death is also soon to come, much like that of the movie's protagonist.

"H-Hello?" Her head cranes to the side as she almost recognizes the soft voice. She waits a moment before moving, turning off the television and looking in the direction of her door. The voice says hello again and once her name falls from the lips of the owner, she knows who it is. Wrapping her arms around her blanketed self, she walks lazily to the door and opens it.

"Joseph, what are you—" She stops. Not only that; to her, it's like her entire world just stopped completely.

Tears? Crying? No. That's not possible.

"W-We're over." His voice is heavy and desperate, the second word cracking with the sorrow in his voice. No words that have ever fallen from his lips have ever sounded so grave.

"Come in here," she says, pulling him by the shoulder and into her home. Without an invitation, not that he'd need one, his arms wrap around her waist and his forehead falls onto her shoulder. His sobs are deep and his breathing is erratic as he cries. "Tell me. Tell me what happened."

He nods into her shoulder, looking up and away from her. She shuts the door quietly, sitting down on the couch and watching him nervously toy with his thumbs, rolling one around the other repeatedly.

"Stop," she tells him, shaking her head and placing her hand over the both of his. "Just stop it. Tell me what's going on."

"Millie. She says we're… oh, my God." His hands fly over his face, his palms cupping his eyes as tears spring from them once again.

She sits quietly, looking at him sympathetically. This isn't the boy she's known since kindergarten. This isn't the boy who threw sand in her hair at recess. This isn't the boy who cheated off of her spelling test in middle school. This isn't the boy who ran into her house those many, many years ago screaming at the top of his lungs, "We got it! They signed us!" This isn't the boy she sees on television and on tour and on news stations.

It's not him. This is a different boy. He's broken.

Amelia broke him.

She doesn't dare speak, a lump growing in her own throat as she watches the boy in front of her collapse in her living room. Slowly, his protective walls are crumbling at his feet as she sees one of his very rare vulnerable moments.

"I caught her with a friend of hers. Well, she said he was a friend of hers." Her name falls from his lips, a plea of desperation in disguise. "Can you believe that?"

"Joseph, I'm so sorry," she says. "I know… I know how much you hurt."

He nods, wrapping one hand around the other. Silence envelops them and he finds his breathing coming back to normal. Looking around cautiously, he sighs. It seems like hours later before he finally speaks.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

Five simple words, but his voice is so heavy and miserable. She nods to him, pointing down the hall. He gives a pathetic smile in response before standing and dragging himself to the restroom. The light turns on and illuminates the hallway before the door shuts behind him.

"Wow…" she finds herself muttering once she hears the sink turn on. Her eyelids start to grow weary as she falls into a light sleep. She doesn't hear the bathroom door open ten minutes later, nor does she hear her own bedroom door open.

-:-:-:-

Joe walks into her room, smiling at the lack of cleanliness. He then remembers that she just moved in, and frowns when he remembers how he broke his promise to help her move in. He had wanted to experience with her the joy of moving into her very first home away from her parents.

His tour had become too hectic. His life had become too much of a maze, even to include his best friend.

His eyes scan the room and fall on a framed picture from two years ago. It was a photo of the party she and her family had thrown in congratulations for his and his brothers' successful signing to Hollywood Records. After a handful of months spent drowning in their own doubts and thoughts of what was to come of their future, their savior had finally arrived. But through all the bouts of self-doubt, Joe had to think of who had always been there for him and his family.

She had been there. Through thick and thin, she was there.

His nimble fingers brushed over the mahogany finish of the 5x7 frame but just as quickly as he had moved to pick it up, it hit the dresser with a loud thud.

-:-:-:-

A dull sound coming from her room has stirred her awake. Removing her arm from over her forehead, she props herself up on her couch and looks down the hallway to her room. She sees a shadow moving in and out of the light and she stands to her feet to investigate.

"What are you doing?" she asks tiredly, resting her body against the doorframe.

"Counting my blessings and reevaluating my life."

"Oh, really?" she smiles, walking over to him as she watches his eyes run over the picture again and again. "That was such a good day," she adds, pointing at the picture in his hands.

"The party? Yeah, it was."

They are silent as she wraps her arms around his waist and leans her head on his shoulder. She notices the puffiness of his eyes have left his face, and she kisses his cheek softly.

"If I'm completely honest with you," she says, her voice almost inaudible, "can you promise me that you won't be mad?"

Joseph clears his throat and swings an arm around and over her shoulders. "Mad at you? Never."

She smiles. "Amelia never… she never deserved you. I remember that one week I spent with you guys on tour; all she did was boast about how lucky she was to be dating Joe Jonas. She didn't really care much for the guy behind the fame. You shouldn't be hurting so much because of her, Joe. I know it hurts, b-but… she never really loved you."

Joe is silent while he looks at her, shifting his weight between his heels. He loosens his grip on her and turns so they're face to face.

"You mean she never really loved me the way you do?"

She's silent. Her jaw drops slightly as she looks at him, shaking her head with a nervous, "N-No, that's n-not what I meant a-at all."

Resting one hand on her waist, he takes the other and tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. She takes in a shaky breath when she feels the warmth of his palm on her paling cheek. She counts the seconds it takes for his face to meet hers and her body trembles as she feels his lips gently touch hers. She feels his mouth close around her bottom lip and before he can continue, she pulls her lip between her teeth and turns away from him.

"Y-You're just hurting right now," she says, scrambling around her room as if she'll be able to find a reasonable explanation for her edginess hiding somewhere on her walls. "I don't want to be 'that girl'. I'm not going to be the rebound girl. I'm s-sorry."

She hears her bed creak and she turns to see Joe sitting on the edge of it. His thick eyebrows are knitted together in confusion and she tilts her head to the side.

"I-I'm sorry," she says again. "I'm so, so sorry."

"First of all, stop stuttering," he chuckles. "Secondly, you have no reason to apologize; I get what you're saying. But I think it's my turn to be honest with you. The reason I feel so miserable because of this breakup, the reason I feel so much… pain? It's you; you're the reason," he says slowly, thinking of each word carefully before he says it.

"Why? Why me?" She doesn't know whether to be relieved or hurt. Yet another moment of silence fills the atmosphere and they can both feel the tension.

"She always knew that I didn't love her. She knew that what she and I shared was nothing compared to what I felt for you."

Shock. Complete and utter shock. She doesn't know what to say, doesn't know whether or not to move, doesn't know how to react. Her breathing becomes erratic and she feels a spontaneous leak of tears come from her eyes.

"Why are you cr—"

"I don't know!" she exclaims. "I—this is too cliché. You can't tell me that I've been in love with a boy for this long, only to find out that he's in love with me, too? This can't… no, this can't be happening."

"But it is." She had no idea that he had stepped in front of her. Her body is numb as his fingertips press into her elbows. Her body doesn't react when her legs are pressing into his own and his lips are suddenly covering hers.

"Joe," she breathes, his hair brushing against her forehead as his lips move down her jaw line. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing," he says. His warm, nimble fingers rest on her waist and he moves her camisole higher, revealing her bare stomach. Guiding her arms out of the clothing, she bites her lip when the cool air hits her breasts.

Slowly, they both move for the bed, Joe gently laying her down on the bed. With his legs on either side of hers, she plays with the hem of his shirt and tugs up, telling him she wants it off. With their upper bodies left completely visible to the other, they smile nervously.

Having been in this situation multiple times in her past, she's surprised at just how awkward she feels. She doesn't know whether it's because Joseph's her best friend, or if she's just scared of making a stupid mistake. Her thoughts are interrupted when she realizes neither of them has moved.

"You don't want to do this, do you?" he asks, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Joe… Joe, no, that's not it at all." Her palms cup his face gently and she feels every breath as it hits her skin. "You've never done this before and I feel like I'm taking advantage of you or something."

"Or something," he says with a smile. She shakes her head and sits up, immediately feeling uncomfortable when he kneels up and she comes face to face with his torso, a defined bone leading to a hidden place where no other girl has ever laid eyes on.

"You've made that promise and—"

"What is marriage but a promise of love between two people? A marriage is nothing more than a ceremony for show."

He's not making any sense. Either that, or she doesn't want him to.

"This stupid thing," he says, pointing to the tiny circle of silver around his left ring finger, "is indeed a promise to remain celibate until marriage. But looking at you and having thought about this for quite some time—"

"You've thought about this moment?" she asks, incredulous. He nods and continues.

"Why do people get married?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "People get married as a promise of love and commitment. But I feel that if two people love each other enough, marriage is just something to seal the deal, if you will. I love you so much and maybe you think that I'm just being nonsensical because of the breakup, but… if it was up to emotions, Amelia and I have been broken up for months now."

Finally, he's making sense.

"Joseph, I don't think I've ever loved anyone, nor can I ever love anyone as much as I love you."

She feels a yearning in her core and she wants him more than she ever could've imagined. It's more than just lust for her, and she knows he feels the same.

His lips reattach to hers and he softly runs his hands over every inch of her uncovered body. She flinches when the rough pads of his fingers come into contact with her erect nipples and she moans into the heated kiss when he does it again. Her tongue finds entry into his mouth and she feels an uncontrollable urge to groan as he sucks on it. Her heat is evident through her plaid pajama pants and she feels almost embarrassed by the slickness between her legs.

She feels a pull on the elastic of both her underwear and the pants and before she can even think, the pieces of cloth are already at her ankles. Busying his lips with the sensitive skin of her collarbones, he pulls off the last of her clothing and buries himself in the scent of her neck.

"Your s-skinny jeans," she gasps.

"What?" he asks, pulling away from her and watching an expression of subtle pain wash over her face.

"Your jeans scratch," she replies, crookedly smiling at him as she points to the denim scratching lines into her thighs.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," he says sincerely. His fingers seem to knot as he tries to undo his jeans, but he looks nervous when her hands cover his.

"Let me do it." Pulling the silver button from its place, she undoes the zipper and bites her lip when she hears a breathy moan escape his throat. The zipper hits the bottom of its trail and she slides her fingers into his pants, cupping the bulge gently.

"Oh, wow," he hisses, jumping when her nails scratch at the material of his boxers. She smirks, pushing the jeans and boxers off of his hips at the same time. "That… God, it feels so different when—"

He doesn't finish his sentence, catching himself before he says something embarrassing and completely revealing. Completely nude, they look at each other before she points at the top of her bed.

"Get under the covers," she says. Doing exactly as he's told, he pulls the comforter from under her pillows and covers the both of them with it. With his arms on either side of her, he attacks her lips once again. She fold her legs up and her knees bring the comforter up and off of his waist. She feels his hardness pressing into her and she opens her eyes.

Her sight catches the faint pinkness of her walls, the plush toys surrounding her bed, and the relatively immature decoration of her bedroom.

"I don't think this is how you e-expected it to go, huh? You first time, I mean? I'm sorry it's not perfect."

Using every ounce of willpower it took to pull his lips away from her stomach, Joseph looked in the direction of her gaze. Brushing a hair away from over her eyes, he smiles.

"Anywhere is perfect as long as I'm with you. Who is what's important, not where."

Kissing her again, he trembles when he feels her fingers dancing down to his hips. A hand wraps around his length and he nips at her bottom lip. Pumping her hand up and down slowly, she notes the expressions on his face and smirks.

"I'm ready if you are," she says slowly, trying not to be obvious about her shock at the size of his length.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You can't. Just… just g-go slow."

His swollen lips leave wet kisses on her neck and he whispers, "Take me."

Grabbing hold of his hardness, she uses her legs to pull him in, leading his erection into her. His tip moves past its boundary and she winces. He doesn't move, afraid to death that he'd hurt her.

"K-Keep going, but go slow." He nods and does as he's told, slowly pushing in until he had nowhere left to go. Her thighs are at his hips and she's surprised when he pulls out and back in slowly.

The pain doesn't take long to subside and soon enough, she's moaning into his hair. His tongue dances across her collarbones, his teeth occasionally meeting the sensitive skin. Pumping in and out of her, he lets out a groan when her legs adjust around his waist, adding more friction.

"Joseph, r-right there," she instructs him, feeling him hit a spot inside of her that makes every nerve ending in her body catch on fire. Taking a fist of hair behind his neck, she pulls when she feels him hit just the right spot. "Oh God," she groans.

"Oh wow," he breathes. "You're soaked. I-Is that supposed to h-happen?" he asks innocently. She nods in reassurance and he mutters, "O-Okay, good."

Comparisons float through her mind and she realizes that no one has ever made her feel this good; no one has ever made her emit such a moan that was so filled with pleasure, it was ungodly.

"Joe, touch me, please," she moans, her hands coming off of his body and scratching at her fitted sheets.

"I-I don't know how," he says sheepishly. "You have to, ahhh, you have to show me."

Her eyes open for just a few seconds as she searches for his hands. Finding one, she rests it on her waist and places his thumb on the sensitive nub between her wet folds. She feels his shoulders flex as she lets out a loud squeal.

"Fuck," she gasps. The curse word falls from her lips and somehow, erupts an explosion within Joe that makes him go faster. Rotating his hips to an indisputably gratifying angle, he thrusts into her quickly.

"Oh God, ohhh," she groans, feeling her walls start to tighten around Joe's throbbing member. His thumb rotates quickly, timing perfectly with each thrust and each rotation of his hips.

Her toes start to tingle and goose bumps start to form on her back. Feeling his hips hit hers, she's lost in a fit of bliss as her walls crash down around him. Never has she felt a string of pleasure so good in her life. Her body writhes underneath him as he continues to pump in and out of her. His thumb stops rotating and he leans on his palms, his hands on either side of her. A large smile plays on her lips and she finds herself giddy with gratification.

She then realizes, "You didn't—"

"I-It's okay."

"No, it's not."

Pushing his shoulder, she moves until she's on top. Resting his back on a stack of pillows, Joseph holds her hips still, his body reacting to the new position.

Slowly lifting herself up and off of his hips with a smirk, she pushes back down onto him, making him yelp.

"Oh, shit," he hisses, biting his lip as a wave of pleasure comes over him. "D-Do that again, p-please."

She does it again and rotates her hips in a tight circle, feeling his member move inside of her again. Her eyes shut tight and she feels his length throbbing inside of her. She watches the shadows of his face as he smiles, the lamp on the bedside table illuminating the both of them. He looks down, watching himself disappear inside of her and he believes he's never seen or felt anything more amazing.

"Like that, ohhhh wow," he groans, feeling her hips moving up, down, left, right. He can't think and he can't feel anything other than his nerves being pleased by every one of her movements.

She feels herself tightening again and she rotates her hips left and right, up and down as she feels he's ready to explode. Kissing the corner of where his jaw meets his neck, she sucks and forms a harsh hickey the size of a bottle cap.

"Just keep… oh, my God," he screams, spilling every ounce of what he has to offer into her. A small mess falls down onto his hips and she collapses on top of him, his climax making her reach her own.

"Jesus Christ," she breathes, kissing up and down his neck. She climbs off of him, leaning into him and pulling the comforter over their bodies. "I don't think I've ever—God, you owned that," she laughs.

He lifts his left hand, the silver band catching the light and glaring at both of them. Wrapping his fingers around hers, he kisses the top of her hand and breathlessly says, "I love you more than anything in this world. Nothing will change that."

He takes off the ring, looking at it before slipping it on her ring finger. She doesn't know the reason as to why he's done this, but she's too tired to care at the moment; she'll ask him about it in the morning.

All she knows right now is that they've created a whole new promise… together.

we've been getting a lot of love from..

2008-10-23T23:07:00.000-07:00

JS girls. I read a secret about how someone wanted to be ibiffles with us. I was like awww. thank you. I shall inform the other girls. =]
well if you really need to talk to us. the forum link is at the top of the blog.

UPDATIONNNNNNN!!

2008-10-13T20:28:00.000-07:00

a lot has been going onn in the time since the last post. The middle Jonas is back on the market. So I suggest snagging him before another Hollywood publicity stunt -- I mean relationship starts? if you can really call it that because they never seem to be with anyone until they break up. Idk whatever. [No offense to Jaylor, Toe, Tayseph, Joelor.. whatever ever the hell people call them now.. fans]

I know you guys are like stop with the lame posts we want the sex stories. We're sorry, maybe we have one lying around. And thanks for the reply to our post on Jonas Secrets. if you get what I'm saying if not okay.

So the good news is Nick finally got his car. The bad news is he probably has to have Big Rob in the front seat at all times. He might as well go back to jailbait pile. There will be no backseat hook up with him anytime soon... unless Kevin is driving the commander. [ he rides alone ;)]

Love bug comes out this Sunday. Kevin looks like Elvis, Joe looks like idk really greasy, and Nick well he looks like .. not 16? [I still say him and Joe are only a year apart and he had to lie so they could fill a larger demographic, see what billion dollar corporations do?]

Okay, I'm off to go upset and corrupt more teenies. hehe. I love this job.

Thanks for the Plug.

2008-09-17T18:05:00.001-07:00

our blog was featured on jonas secrets. Thanks to all the girls who commented. Business is slow, but we will try to stand and deliver.

But first things first. NICK IS 16 BITCHES! but he looks like he's pushing 18. I sense scandalll. anywhoooo. That means he's open game in the legal states of course. So get your ropes and grandparents stationwagons and start felony kidnapping. [disclaimer: we aren't responsible for any real kidnappings.] =D. Good luck girls. May the best girl win.

Please excuse my handsss...

2008-08-20T20:08:00.000-07:00

they jus wanna touch, they just wanna feel, they don’t mean no harm, baby just excuse my hands baby please excuse my hands, I apologize, they have a one track mind to squeeze on your behind baby jus excuse my hands please excuse my hands.

[no more Plies for me today thank you.]

This post is about my favorite piece of jailbait and future meal ticket Nick Jonass. Oh yes the time is drawing near where I can finally lay hands on this sweet piece of Disney meat. That purity ring will be a melted puddle of silver when I'm done. But all jokes aside. He's turning the big 1-6. He's already got himself a car. And that means lots of backseat hookups. I hope he gets the windows tinted so the 'rents can't peek in. Talk about a mood killer.

But to all the over 18 + fans I would like to be the first to hit that. And if rumors are true... Nothing will be pure in the jb dressing room. ;].

until next time.

wow. kevin used to only do that dance after I put it on him. ;]

<33 this kid.

Britt talks.

2008-08-20T20:04:00.001-07:00

So, we've noticed that our blogger has gotten quite a bit of...exposure lately. We love it, don't get us wrong, but some of the comments are a little off, I guess I'd say.

1) There are NO incest stories on here. Anyone who has actually gone through the stories knows this. Don't assume the 'You' fics are another brother. It's for YOU to put YOURSELF in the situation. Don't twist that, please, because even some of the DMGs hate the incest stories (like me).

2) A petition trying to get every single dirty jonas fic (not just our blog but every single one out there) is insane. It's never going to happen. This is only fiction. It's not real. It's freedom of expression. And, again, if it offends you all you have to do is click out of it and not read it. There are worse things in the world than dirty jonas fics.

3)If any of our stuff offends you, then don't read it! Our intention is, and never will be, to offend anyone. These are fics that are entertainment to some, and just a way of letting out some creativeness/feelings to some of the DMGs. We apologize if we've offended you, but it's not really our fault. If you've read them and then get offended, it's your fault because you went through with reading it when you knew good and well what the story/stories contained.

4) To those of you who enjoy our stories and comment on them, etc. we love you!

Thanks for reading!
<3
-Britt

Mirror Mirror [By Britt]

2008-07-31T20:13:00.000-07:00

Mirror Mirror
By Brittany

You shut your door and inhale deeply, smiling at the scent. The room smells like vanilla - your favorite.

"So good," you murmur, walking over to your mirror. Your face is damp and flushed. You're hot. It's hot. The air has been out for three hours and the sweat rolling down your back is irritating you.

Stripping off your shirt, you hear a quiet rustle from your closet behind you. You think nothing of it and your hands slide to your pants, pushing them off.
You sigh with relief when the air hits your hot skin. Another rustle makes you curious and you glance in the mirror towards your closet just in time to see a flash of brown eyes before they disappear. Your jaw drops slightly when you remember Joe and Frankie had been playing hide and seek. You curse quietly and look at your stripped pants. It's too hot to force yourself to put them back on and cover yourself. You smirk suddenly, and decide to leave your clothes where they are.

"Oh, it's so hot," you moan, your fingers brushing your skin, moving up and unhooking your bra.

You can picture Joe now. His eyes darkening and his adam's apple jerking as he takes in your bare breasts. You bite your lip and cup your breasts, tipping your head and knowingly giving him a fantastic view in the mirror.

"Mmm," you sigh.

Running your hands up and to your hair, you lift it off your damp neck for a moment before letting it drop back onto your shoulders. You run your tounge along your upper lip and glance at your door. You walk over and lock it, then step back in front of your mirror. Your fingers run along your thighs and up your sides, teasing your breasts for a minute. You hear a quiet gasp from your closet, and you can't help but become aroused at the thought of what you're doing. What you're doing to him. Licking your lips you run you hands down your stomach and slip a hand into your panties. Your fingers tease the slightly damp folds, and you sigh. You close your eyes and imagine Joe in your closet. You've walked in on him before, your eyes locking on his hand that had been wrapped around himself. You had apologized, but you weren't really sorry. In fact, you caught him again and watched silently without his knowledge of you there. You know he's unzipped his pants by now, his hand snaking into his boxers and his rough hand gripping his hardening self.

"Oh," you moan quietly, slipping a finger into yourself.

Your ears pick up on a quiet thud, and you know his head has tipped back onto the wall. His boxers will have been tugged down to feel his throbbing self, and his hand is gripping and twisting as he watches you.

"Fuck," you sigh, adding another finger and sliding them in and out easily.

Thinking back to Joe, hiding in your closet, your hips grind against your hand and you let out a breathy moan. He's probably licked his palm by now, running it over his length and biting his lip as he twitches under his own touch. You can only imagine how bad he wants to moan, to call out your name.

"Ohh," you moan, your thumb finding your clit and rubbing gently.

Your head tips back and your free hand cups your breasts one at a time, then runs through your hair as your hand works its magic. The smallesmt moan emits from your closet and you bite your lip harder.

"Oh God," you breathe, your thumb pressing hard and moving in faster circles.

You know he's so hard he can barely stand it now and he has both hands on his hardness, each one stroking and twisting with a different beat. His hips are arching into his hands and his breathing has gotten heavy.

"Yes," you moan, your fingers moving quickly. You feel yourself beginning to tense and your jaw drops as the waves of pleasure begin to take over.

"Oh my God," you hear him moan quietly. You know he's close. His hands move quickly now and you know his eyes are locked onto your hidden hand.

"Mmm," you moan. "Oh, God."

You reach up and grip the mirror for leverage, your hips bucking against your hand as you moan loudly, your orgasm hitting you and lingering. Your mind goes to Joe and you know your moans were enough. His hips have bucked into his hands and he's bitten his lips to stop from moaning outloud as he spills into his used hands. Several moans and whimpers later your body finally becomes still and you remove your hand, breathing hard.

"Now I'm even hotter," you giggle, wiping your forehead and walking to the two drawer dresser than held your pajamas.

Slipping on a long white t-shirt and shorts you head for your bedroom door. Unlocking it you open it and then look at your closet.

"Bye, Joe," you smirk, walking out of your room.

My Valentine - By Brittany

2008-07-13T22:18:00.000-07:00

A request I edited so it's a 'You' OS. :]

"I know it's Valentine's Day and I said I'd be there, but...I won't. I'm so sorry. We added another date to the tour because of demand, and the managers thought Valentine's day would be a great day to have a concert, so...I'm just sorry. I'll make it up to you when I come into town next week, okay? I love you."

You sigh and shut your phone, frowning as you thought about the voicemail you had just heard. Nick had promised he'd be home for your first Valentine's Day together, and now he's not going to be there.

"Bummer," you say, looking at the clock. Reservations were lost and the red dress you're wearing was of no use to you now.

Shaking your head, you head upstairs and into your room. Shedding the high heels that were on your aching feet you wiggle your toes into the plush carpet and gaze into your closet for lounge wear.

Your phone buzzes loudly on the desk beside your closet, making you jump. Picking up the phone, you looked at the screen that blinked New Text Message from Nick.

"This better be good," you mumble, flipping your phone open and reading the message.

Since I can't be there tonight, I've arranged to have your present sent to you. You game?

A smile creeps onto your face, and you reply quickly, 'Yes.'

Waiting anxiously for several minutes, your phone buzzes again.

Go outside, take a flashlight and follow the trail down to the clearing.

You look at the message curiously before replying, 'Okay', and slip your shoes back on, heading downstairs. Picking up a flashlight on your way out, you step into the cool breeze and shiver. Hurrying down the path with the flashlight beaming in front, you finally came to the clearing.

Looking back at your cell, you open it to tell Nick where you are. 'I'm at the clearing.'

Rocking back and forth on your heels, you look around in the dark and suddenly become nervous.

Yelping as your phone buzzed, you chuckle at yourself and open your phone.

Have a seat on the blanket and close your eyes.

"Blanket?" you ask, looking around. Finally spotting a red plaid blanket on the ground several yards away, you walk to it slowly and sit down. Hesitating, you text Nick 'Okay' before closing your eyes.

"Now open your eyes."

Gripping your phone for a second, your breath catches in her throat when you realize it hadn't gone off.

Opening your eyes, you stare at the figure in front of you. "Nick?"

He was standing there in a suit, a single red rose in his hand.

"But I thought you were in-"

"I admit...I lied," Nick says, chewing his bottom lip and walking over, kneeling in front of you.

"You lied? Why?" you ask, taking the rose from Nick as he offers it to you.

"I thought this would be more fun," he shrugs.

"I'm glad you're here," you smile.

"Me, too." He returns the smile before kissing you gently.

"So, what's my present?" you ask against his lips.

"Um, me," Nick says, pulling away.

"Seriously?"

"No," Nick laughs. "That's not my style."

You smiled and watch as Nick pulls a long red velvet box out of his suit jacket and hands it to you.

"Happy Valentine's Day," he says as you take it.

You glance at him before turning your attention to the box and opening it slowly, revealing a silver chain with a single dangling pearl on it.

"Oh, Nick," you breathe. "It's beautiful."

"You like?" Nick asks, a smile creeping onto his lips.

"I love it. And I love you. Thank you," you smile, leaning in and kissing him gently.

Nick smiles against your lips, pulls back and takes the necklace out of the box.

"Lift your hair," he tells you.

Lifting your hair, you shiver as Nick's fingers brush your skin as he puts the necklace on you.

"You're beautiful," he mutters, kissing your cheek.

Blushing slightly, you set your hands on his shoulders and find his lips.

Nick parts his lips after moments of kissing gently and finds your tounge. Gliding his tounge along yours, his hands slide down your arms.

You moaned quietly into Nick's mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Nick brakes the kiss and removes his hands from you. He takes his jacket off quickly and loosens his tie as he looks at you.

You lick your drying lips and lie back on the blanket, your eyes never leaving his.

Nick pulls his tie over his head and drops it on the ground. His fingers move down to the buttons on his crisp, white dress shirt, but you quickly shake your head.

"I want to," you tell him, leaning up and taking the front of his shirt in your hands before pulling him towards you.

Nick leans forward until his weight is on his knees, then sets his hands on the blanket below him and looks down at you.

Moving your hands slowly, you un-do the buttons one at a time, your fingers grazing his burning skin as it becomes exposed. Once his shirt is un-buttoned you pull it down his arms slowly, taking in the sight of his bare upper half.

Nick smirks as he watches your face heat and lifts his hands out of the shirt one at a time. Feeling your fingers on his chest he leans back down, his mouth attacking your skin. Kissing, sucking, leaving marks he knows only he's allowed to make.

"I want you," he says, sucking gently on your jawbone. "I want you right here and right now."

"Take me," you breathe, swallowing as his lips began to heat up your body.

"How do you want it?" Nick asks you, his mouth leaving you and his hands sliding up your thighs, taking your dress with them.

"Nick," you whimper.

"Tell me," he says gently, leaving your dress just above your hips and running his hands down your thighs, parting them.

"Sl-Slow. I want to feel you move," you say, taking in a breath.

"You got it, Valentine," Nick says quietly, pulling your underwear down slowly.

Ditching them in the grass his hands move to his own pants and he removes them quickly with little difficulty.

"I need you," you said, your hands reaching for him.

Nodding, Nick leans over you, capturing your lips with his own.

Your hands skim over his back and slip over his hips. Wrapping a hand around his now throbbing self, you smirk when he lets out a shaky breath.

"Do it," Nick whispers, kissing your forehead.

Nodding, you relax your hold on him and slowly help to guide him inside of you. You both let out breaths once Nick has filled you completely, and neither one dares to move just yet.

"A-Are you okay?" Nick asks you, his skin dampening as the heat of you takes him over. You're both still new to this, this only being your second time together. Christmas Eve had been your first.

You are quiet for a few seconds as you adjust to the feeling that's still so new to you. Finally you relax your lower half and nod.

"You sure, baby? I don't want to hurt you," Nick says, his hair blowing into his face as a gust of cool air came upon the two of you.

"It's just new. But don't stop. Don't stop," you say quietly, your hands moving and gripping his back.

Your fingers in his skin, Nick takes that as his sign to move.

Sliding in and out of you slowly, he groans. "Fuck, you feel so good."

You moan in reply, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him into you deeper with each thrust.

Nick leans down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.

Your walls grip him tightly as he moves, the slickness of you making him shiver.

"Oh God," he moans against your mouth. "I’ve missed you so much."

"Me, too, Nick. Ohh," you moan, tangling one hand in his hair, the other gripping his back as his hips buck against yours.

"You feel so good. So good," Nick whispers into your ear.

"Mmm, go faster," you plead, sucking on his neck.

"You said-"

"Faster. Please, Nick, please," you moan, tightening your legs.

Obliging, Nick braces his hands against the blanket and thrusts into your faster.

"Ohh, right there," you say, your head tipping back.

Nick's fingers clutch the blanket as he moves in and out of you easily now. You move together for what feels like hours, your limbs tangled.

"Oh, Nick," you moan, gripping him tightly as he thrusts into you.

Sweat rolls down Nick's back as he moves, thrusting harder into you.

"God," he groans, feeling you twitch.

"Touch me, Nick, touch me," you beg, reaching for his arm. "I'm so close."

Dropping to his elbows, Nick reaches down to your throbbing clit, his thumb going in circles.

"More. Again," you breathe. "Oh God, Nick, oh my God."

His toes press against the ground as he moves even harder and faster, his thumb in sync with his hips.

"Come on," he urges you. "Let go. God, you're so tight."

"Fuck, Nick. Yes, yes. Oh my God." You moan loudly, your voice reaching the nearby trees.

Nick feels your walls beginning to tighten around him and he shudders delightfully at the thought of what's about to come.

Rubbing his thumb against your sensitive mound quickly, his hips began to crash into yours.

"Oh, God. Oh, yes...." he moans, catching up to your body with his own.

"Nick, please. Please, I'm so...oh my God."

"Oh, yes. I'm so close, baby, so close," he breathes, his lips finding yours and his thrusts becoming desperate.

It happens quickly after a few more eager thrusts.

Your legs tighten almost painfully around Nick's waist, your shoulders lifting up from the blanket and your mouth against his shoulder as your orgasm courses through your body with a delighted moan.

Feeling you contract around him as you climax, Nick thrusts into you deeply a few times before he feels his body letting go. He shudders as he fills you, his fingers dug deep into the blanket and his mouth parted in a silent scream of bliss.

His thumb moves slowly through your aftershocks and he drops his forehead down onto the blanket, your shoulders still off the ground.

Minutes tick by as your bodies recover, and you finally lay back onto the blanket, breathing heavily.

Nick removes his hand from your still body and lets out a shaky breath.

"Oh, Nick," you breathe, turning your head and kissing his cheek. Your legs unwrap from his waist and you wrap your arms around him.

Nick lifts his head and kisses your lips gently before wrapping an arm around your waist and rolling onto his back.

You pull your dress back down, set your head on his chest and listen as his heart begins to slow down.

Shivering from his damp skin being blown by the wind, Nick reaches over and grabs the edge of the blanket, wrapping it around the two of you.

You shift in Nick's arms until you can look into his eyes and you smile. "I love you."

Nick smiles back at you and kisses you. "I love you too, my Valentine."

"Mm," you moan, stretching. "I can't wait to see what you do for my birthday."

Locked In - By Brittany

2008-06-06T18:02:00.000-07:00

You step into the dim outdoor laundry room and shut the door behind you. Letting out a breath, you close your eyes. The party going on inside the house has gotten out of control, and you needed air. But the people in the yard were loud as well, so you escaped to the laundry room. It wasn't technically your party, it was your sister's, but you knew you'd get the blame for it.

"Damn," you sigh, realizing if anything got broken it'd be your ass.

Turning, you grab the handle to the rotting door and turn it. It breaks.

"Oh, son of a bitch," you mutter, kneeling and trying to put it back together so you can get out. After a few minutes of trying, you hear a snap as a piece of metal gets stuck in the inner portion of the lock. Your jaw drops as you stare at the lock. There's no getting that undone.

"Oh, man," you say, standing and looking around, trying to stay calm. You suddenly become very aware that there's no window in the laundry room. You lean against the door and bang loudly, yelling for help. After minutes of yelling, you figure the music is up too loud for anyone to hear you.

"Shit, shit, shit," you say, pounding on the door a few more times before gripping your hair and sitting on the floor. You shut your eyes, trying to forget how small the laundry room is, and begin to rock back and forth as you hum yourself out of a panic attack.

The music from the party makes its way into your ears and you listen intently, trying to figure out how to escape. Suddenly a rush of cool air hits you and you open your eyes.

"Hey, what are you-"

"Don't shut the door!" you screech at the boy who has just entered the laundry room, and wince when you hear it click.

"What?" he asks, confused.

"Damnit! The lock broke! We're locked in!" you exclaimed, standing up and pushing against the door.

"Locked in?"

"Yes! Damn you, Kevin Jonas!" you say, shoving him.

"Woah!" he says, holding his hands up and stepping away from you.

"Oh, well this is just great. We're going to run out of air in here! There's no window and the music is up too loud for anyone to hear!" you say, clutching your heart.

"Yeah, the music is really loud," he agrees.

"Kevin!" you yell.

"What? I'm sorry! Stop yelling at me!" he says, his brow furrowing.

"I don't do well in small places, Kevin. You know that. Especially ones that seem to be getting hotter by the minute!" you say, your breath quickening.

"Dude, relax. Relax," he says quietly.

"No one knows we're in here. The party could last until morning. What if-"

"What if this is fun?" he asks.

"Fun?" you ask, looking at him. He's dressed up from head to toe, every curl on his head in place.

"Yeah. It's like Hide and Seek, except on accident."

"You're weird," you nod, banging on the door and the wall around it.

"I need a break," he says softly, and you almost don't hear him.

"What?" you ask, turning and watching as he hops onto the washing machine and loosens his tie.

"I need a break," he repeats. "We're going a million miles an hour, I can't escape cameras, I don't get a minute of peace to myself, we don't talk much anymore, I just...I'm so fucking tired," he says, swallowing hard.

"We talk. Kind of. For, like, a minute a month," you say, trying to reassure him.

"It's not the same," he whines quietly. "I miss you."

You stare at him as he speaks, and begin to let your eyes wander. The collar of his shirt is scratching against the skin of his neck. The dark jacket is tight on his chest, the pocket stuffed with a colorful scarf. His pants are dark as well, and tight, and stop right at the middle of his socks, which are an odd salmon color. His shoes are shiny and white, and you want to cringe.

"I hate the way you dress," you tell him.

"What?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours. He looks offended.

"I hate your shoes," you say, looking at them.

"My shoes? What's wrong with my shoes? I like these. I picked them out," he says, now sounding highly offended.

"What happened to your Converse?" you ask, looking up at him.

"I still have my Converse, I just like wearing these."

"Ew. You have changed. I guess the tabloids are right," you say, frowning.

"Excuse me? What the hell are you-" He stops once he sees the smirk on your face. "Oh, you bitch," he chuckles.

You smile softly and walk over to him, setting your hands on his shoulders. "Your clothes changed, but you haven't," you say.

"I think you're the only one that believes that," he says softly.

"What's wrong?" you ask, tilting your head.

"I told you. I'm tired. I'm tired and I miss you and I...maybe I don't like these clothes, either," he says, sighing and meeting your gaze.

"The shoes are hideous," you nod.

He lets out a slight laughs and shakes his head."Sometimes I wonder if I had made different decisions if I would be-"

You cover his mouth and shake your head. "Don't. You work so hard and you love what you do. Don't let the bad stuff that comes with it ruin you, Kev," you say quietly.

"It just gets so hard," he says against your hand.

"So call me more and talk to me. I am a fantastic listener," you smile.

He removes your hand from his mouth and looks at you seriously. "You really are," he says.

"I know," you nod.

"No, I mean you...you just...I just-"

"What?" you ask.

"I stopped calling you so much because I realized I'm in love with you and thought it would be weird since we've been close for so long, so I just stopped...just stopped. I just kind of got stuck and I don't know what to do anymore. I can't do any of this without you anymore. It's too hard. It's so hard to be in the spotlight like this and-"

"Why did you come in here?" you ask suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Why did you come in here?" you ask again.

"I...uh, actually I saw you come in here and then when you didn't come out for fifteen minutes I decided to come check on you," he admits, biting his lower lip.

"You always did like to protect girls."

"Just you," he says.

You fall silent and look towards the ground. "I-"

"You?" he asks.

"Hate those shoes," you finish, your fingers resting on the laces.

"So you've said," he sighs.

You chew your lip for a moment and then let your fingers undo the laces.

"What are you doing?" he asks, looking down.

You shrug and drop his shoes to the floor and then peel off his socks and toss them over your shoulder.

"How do you feel now?" you ask.

"Um...my toes are cold?"

"I'm trying to rid you of your typical image here, Kevin. Work with me," you say, placing your hands on his knees.

"Oh," he says. "Then I feel...lighter."

"What else is heavy?" you ask.

"This jacket," he replies. He leans forward a little on the machine and your hands slide down his arms as you remove his jacket and drop it on the floor.

"Tie," you say, your hands running up his chest and stopping at his tie. He tips his head back a little as you undo his tie the rest of the way and slip it over his head.

"Better," he nods.

"Are you sure?" you ask, nudging his knees until they part, and step between them.

He opens and closes his mouth and just looks at you. You take the silence as a sign and begin to undo the buttons on his shirt.

"Shirt looks stiff," you say quietly, pulling it down his arms. He nods slightly and watches as his shirt hits the dirty floor. You bite your lip and can't help but to drag your nails down his chest. He flinches and closes his eyes, his head dropping back. You swallow once your hands get to his zipper and you carefully undo the button to his tight pants. "Too tight," you mutter, dragging the zipper down.

"Mmm," he breathes, his hips shifting.

You tug on his pants until he sets his hands on the washer and lifts himself up, then slowly pull his pants down. They hit the floor quietly and you look up, your eyes meeting.

"How do you feel?" you ask.

"T-Turned on," he says, his skin beginning to flush.

You smile and nod, stepping as close to him as you can until you hit the washer and wrapping your hands behind his neck.

"Me too," you whisper, touching your lips to his.

Kevin grips your hips quickly and deepens the kiss, making you moan quietly. He scoots forward on the machine and you feel the heat of him through your long skirt.

"Oh wow," he breathes, breaking the kiss.

"I think it's safe to say there's been sexual tension between us," you say, kissing his neck and down his chest.

"Mmhmm," he nods, his hands sliding under your shirt.

You remove your lips from his skin and allow him to peel your shirt off. His hands cup your breasts for a moment and he leans forward, kissing your collarbones and reaching behind you, unhooking it. It drops to the floor a moment later and his tounge attacks your skin. You feel your skin beginning to warm under his touch, and your hands move to his hips. Kevin's hands move up and down your sides, over your breasts, and up your throat. One slides behind your neck and the other goes down to your lower back and he pull you forward and kisses you hotly. Your tounges find each others quickly and you melt into Kevin, wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss loses some heat as Kevin stands up quickly and turns before pushing you against the washing machine. You hop up on it quickly and pull his boxer covered half against you. Kevin lets out a breathy moan and then pulls away from the kiss. His hands slide up your thighs and you bite your lip as you feel your underwear being pulled down. You lift up slightly and shiver as he removes them one leg at a time. You reach forward and dip a hand into his boxers and he grunts as you wrap a hand around him.

"Shit," he groans, closing his eyes.

You stroke him for a few minutes before removing your hand and pushing boxers down as far as you can. Kevin steps out of them and kicks them away before looking at you. You know no words are needed, so you nod at each other and Kevin steps between your legs again. He pushes your skirt up and pulls your hips towards his before kissing you again. You wrap your legs around his waist and moan loudly as he enters you slowly.

"Oh my God," you moan, the feeling better than you could have imagined.

Your head tips back as he thrusts into you slowly and your hands grip his shoulders once you feel his lips on your neck.

"Kevin?" you ask, swallowing as you feel him move inside you.

"Mm?" he breathes, gripping your hips tightly.

"I-I didn't respond e-earlier, but I...oh fuuuuck," you moan as his pace quickens.

"You?" he asks, pulling your hips against his as he moves.

"I l-love you, too," you say, leaning forward and kissing his shoulder, your hands gripping his shoulderblades.

"You d-do?" he asks, his breath hot on your neck.

"Yes," you moan.

His hips jerk against yours and you both let out a moan. Kevin whimpers as your nails dig into his skin and his thrusts become harder, his pace slowing down. Your jaw drops at the feeling and you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

"Kevinnnn," you moan, circling your hips. You're pressed up against each other as close as you can, your hearts beating rapidly against each other as sweat rolls down your backs.

"Oh my God," Kevin groans, his knees banging into the washing machine as he thrusts into you. You bite his shoulder gently, moving your teeth along his collarbones. Sucking the hollow between them, you let out a yelp as his pace quickens.

"Right there," you moan, licking your lips. His hips begin to grind into yours and you shut your eyes at the feeling.

"Ohhh," he moans, letting go of your hips and gripping the sides of the washing machine. The machine runs into the wall as he thrusts into you quickly, and you feel yourself beginning to tighten around his throbbing self. "You feel so good," he growls, his hips moving in large circles.

"Oh fuck," you moan, your toes beginning to curl.

The washing machine begins to vibrate with your movements and you feel yourself ready to explode.

"Oh, Kevin. Oh my God. Ohhhhh." You scream against his shoulder, you body jerking against his as the most intense orgasm of your life overtakes you.

Kevin thrusts into you a few more times before he grips your hips again and releases his body with a long, low moan of your name.

The two of you stay still, leaning into each other for what feels like hours, recovering. Finally Kevin steps back and pulls his boxers and pants on before sitting on the washing machine, his legs shaking.

"My...wow," you breathe, running a hand through your hair.

Kevin nods and sets his head back on the wall behind the washing machine. You smooth your skirt down and slowly get off the washing machine and re-dress, handing Kevin his shirt. He puts it on and buttons it, watching you with a gentle look.

"What?" you ask.

"You love me," he grins.

"Yeah," you smile, nodding.

He gets off the maching and hugs you, kissing the top of your head.

"What do you say we find a way out of here," you say, the air thick and hot in the laundry room.

"Sure," Kevin nods, pulling out his cellphone.

You stare at him in shock. "You had that the whole time?!"

"Yeah," he nods.

"Kevin! Why didn't you say anything?"

"I was having too much fun being locked in with you," he smiles.

Senses

2008-06-04T21:15:00.000-07:00

You walk through the sliding door, heading through the kitchen to the refrigerator.

Looking into it, you frown dejectedly at the full shelves, nothing appealing to you.

“What are you looking for?” someone suddenly asks.

You shriek in surprise, holding your hand over your heart as you spin around and nearly fall back.

Glaring across the kitchen island, you watch the boy in front of you clapping his hands as he throws his head back and laughs.

“I w-wasn’t even trying to s-scare you,” he howls, trying to laugh and speak at the same time.

“I hate you,” you say, taking a water bottle from the top shelf and shutting the refrigerator.

He laughs some more as you roll your eyes and sit at the dining table, putting your feet up and admiring your scuffed Converse.

You’re almost tempted to chuck the bottle at him, but find yourself laughing when he starts coughing uncontrollably.

“Ha, serves you right, you coldhearted boy.”

He rolls his eyes after gaining his breath back.

“What are…” he stops to cough a few more times, “… what are you up to?”

“Nothing,” you shrug, kissing your teeth. “Summer is so boring,” you groan, running your hand through your hair.

“We’ve only been out of school for, like, three days,” he chuckles.

“Yeah, but eating ice cream, going to the mall, and internet-cruising gets so old so fast.”

“You’ve managed to do that in just three days?”

“What?” you ask, repeatedly closing and opening the bottle.

“Bore yourself?”

“Yes,” you reply slowly, staring at him. “Why?”

“Nothing. I just thought you lived a more exciting life than that,” he shrugs, walking towards the sink with the bowl of he had been eating out of.

“First of all, share!” you yell, sprinting and nearly crashing into him. “Second of all,” you swat him, “I do have an exciting life. It’s just…”

You trail off, trying to think of a legitimate response.

“I just…” Your words fail you as you suck on the pineapple you’re holding, the juice dripping down your fingers.

“You’re just lame,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Fine,” you say, feigning a smile. “Whatever you say. I forgive you since you’ve fed me.”

“That’s disgusting.” His nose scrunches as he looks at you, making you try and follow the direction of his eyes.

“What is?”

He takes a hold of your wrist and points with his other hand at the dripping mess almost at your elbow.

“That.”

“Oh,” you smile innocently. “I didn’t—ew!”

Your face is a look of complete horror as you feel his tongue at the tip of your finger and you realize he’s trying to take the last bit of pineapple in your hand.

“That was utterly mortifying,” you whimper while he runs the water over your hands, scrubbing your arm with the pad of his fingers.

“You eat like a pig.”

Your mouth opens in incredulity, trying to wrap your head around the fact that he just called you the equivalent of a pig.

“You’re mean,” you say, pulling your arm away when he tries to dry it.

Snatching the paper towel from him, you clean yourself off.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see his body shaking in quiet laughter.

Smirking to yourself as you grab the extendable faucet from his family’s sink, you aim it at him and clear your throat.

Turning to face you, his smile falls once your plan becomes evident to him.

“This is for calling me a pig.”

“I didn’t—” His protests are too late as you grin and turn the water on, spraying him completely with the shower setting.

“Not fair!” he screeches. “I have no ammo!”

“Or manners!” you yell, trying to be heard over the sound of the water hitting his body.

After just a few more seconds, you shut the water off and nearly slip on the drenched floor.

Laughter completely takes over you as you watch the expression on his face.

“That was an epic win,” you say, congratulating yourself with a small applause.

“Right,” he says, taking off his shirt and throwing it towards the backyard sliding door. “Mom’s gonna kill me, by the way.”

“Your mom’s chill; she won’t mind. Besides, I’ll tell her we dropped the water jug or s-something,” you stutter, laughter still erupting from you.

“Or I can just tell her we got into a water fight,” he chuckles.

You shrug and turn away, picking at your fingernails.

Not seeing him shift, you take in a harsh breath at the feeling of ice-cold water running down your back.

“Holy sh—what the hell?!”

You turn to face him and see the smirk on his face, noting the cup in his hand that once contained the water he just poured on you.

“Unfair.”

“Sure, and you were?”

“Hey, you called me a pig.”

He scoffs, taking another pineapple chunk out of the bowl and shoving it in his mouth.

You take off your shirt without giving it a second thought and toss it over your shoulder to meet with his shirt next to the door.

“Strawberry!” you squeal, reaching to the bottom of the bowl and putting the small piece of fruit into your mouth. “Oh my God, yum.”

Closing your eyes at the sweet taste, you do a little dance of happiness.

You never notice the pair of eyes burning into your body.

You don’t notice the steps that have been taken towards you.

You don’t notice the closeness of the boy’s face to yours.

You only notice when you feel a pair of hands on your hips.

It takes you a while to realize what’s happening, until a pair of lips meets yours.

Opening your eyes at the soft contact, you gasp into the kiss.

You’re unable to move as you try to sort through the different messages running around your brain.

He suddenly pulls away, his hands still on your hips.

“I’m… sorry?” he says, his eyes trailing away from you.

“Sorry that you stopped it,” you breathe, realizing for the first time that you had been holding your breath.

“No,” he chuckles. “I guess I just…”

His eyes scan the room and take mere moments to lock onto yours.

“You just what?” you ask quietly.

“N-Nothing,” he says, his volume matching yours.

The sun is coming in through the window behind him, making his wet skin sparkle just enough to make you squint.

His hair is naturally curly, just the way you like it, and the wetness makes it cling to his forehead.

Without thinking, you brush your fingers over his face and kiss the tip of his chin.

You see his eyes flutter open and closed, making you smirk.

Kissing up slowly, your lips finally touch his and you kiss him deeper than he kissed you.

Running your hands up the length of his arms, you wrap your own arms around his neck and pull him closer.

His bare chest pushes against the cups of your bra, making you moan.

Your tongue glides its way between his lips and you can taste the pineapple mixing with the strawberry.

The kiss is just like a taste of summer and you find yourself smiling into the kiss.

He lifts you slightly off of the ground and wraps your legs around his waist.

Walking slowly towards the stairs to his room, you’re amazed that he hasn’t slipped.

Once he reaches the stairs, though, he stumbles a few steps up, making you pull away.

“You don’t slip on the water-soaked hardwood floor, but on the carpeted stairs, you nearly drop me?” you laugh.

He laughs at you, looking first at your eyes then at your shining lips.

Biting the bottom one, he pulls it into his mouth and sucks gently.

Emitting a moan from your throat, you tighten your arms around his neck and continue kissing him, probing your tongue around his mouth.

He finally gets to his room, groaning into your mouth when he remembers it’s closed.

Pushing you roughly against the door, he holds you up by wedging you between the cold door and his own body.

The zipper of his jeans is cold and the denim is pressing into your own shorts.

Your thighs press into his belt loops, the water soaking through the denim and you can feel the dampness becoming warm.

“I hate this door,” he says into the kiss, still struggling with the door knob.

“It’s okay,” you reply. “I’m in no hurr—ee!”

You squeal once the door swings open, him almost dropping you onto the floor.

Walking quickly, he drops you onto the bed and quickly crawls over you.

His hands run up your goose bumped sides and his lips attack your chest, moving up until he’s at your lips.

“P-Parents?” you say, worrying about who may possibly walk in.

“Out,” he replies quickly and you feel his hands on your belt. “No one will be home until seven or something.”

“G-Good,” you say, clenching his hair in your hand as he starts to suck on your neck.

He pulls your shorts down to your ankles and you kick them off eagerly.

You can’t believe how comfortable this is.

You’re more than just friends, but less than an exclusive relationship; not to the point where this is awkward.

He understands you like no one else does, and vice versa.

There’s really no label for your relationship with him.

Your skin is now dry, but still cold, and you feel his coarse hands firmly gripping your side.

Your legs are bent, your knees pressing into his waist.

His curly hair is brushing against your forehead as he kisses the tip of your nose, then leaves a soft peck at your lips, kissing your chin, then slowly down your chest.

His cologne is buried in his hair and you breathe in, taking in the sweet scent.

You’ve always loved how he wore his cologne. It was never overwhelming; just enough to make every part of you melt.

Lowering his body to yours, you let out a breathy moan when you feel his stomach brush against yours.

His pants zipper brushes against your belly button, making you twitch.

“Your pants…” you breathe, almost laughing when you realize what you just said.

“What?” he asks, lifting his lips from your collarbone and looking at you.

“They’re hurting my skin.”

“You want them off?” he smirks.

“Um, yes,” you reply, your voice staggered.

His lips attack your neck, his tongue teasing your ear lobe.

“Then take them off for me,” he whispers, making your hair stand on end.

Eagerly pushing him up on his palms, you take both of your hands and undo his belt.

Hastily unbuttoning his pants, you push them off of his legs.

After much resistance due to their wetness, you finally get them to his ankles before he kicks them off and onto the floor.

“You’re really cold,” you say, wrapping your legs tightly around his lower half.

Your groin rubs harshly against his hardness through his boxers, making him groan loudly.

You see the darkness appear in his eyes, making your stomach churn in want.

Your cheeks burn red as he sets his hand on your neck and runs down the length of your torso.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

His voice is sincere and his words make you bite your lip; no one had ever called you that before.

Its synonyms—pretty, hot, gorgeous, etc—were words that held superficial meaning.

But seeing the truth in his eyes and feeling his breath on your nose let you know that he’s genuine; you realize how safe you feel and how wanted and complete you are with him.

You smile, lifting your head and kissing his lips softly before whispering, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

His smile grows larger as he busies his lips with yours.

His tongue eagerly begs entrance into your mouth and you part your lips allowing it access.

Too engaged in the kiss to notice him moving, he unbuttons your shorts quickly and uses one hand to push them down.

Lifting your hips at an angle to help him, you moan when you feel him sucking on your tongue.

Your shorts aren’t nearly as heavy as his, but take longer than expected to remove.

You push his shoulder and make him roll onto his back, immediately straddling him.

Putting your weight on your palms and knees, you instruct him to push your shorts the remainder of the way and he obeys.

Pushing your shorts and underwear down at the same time, you blush when you realize that your lower half is completely bare.

His fingers gingerly trace the uncovered skin of your rear, making shivers run up your spine.

“T-That tickles,” you say, dropping your forehead against his.

Lifting his head to meet your skin, he dips his tongue into one of your bra cups and sucks on the tender skin.

Bringing your head up, you bite your lip and let out a small moan.

Taking his hand in your own, you lift it up to your chest and feel the pad of his fingers on your skin.

He dips his hand into your bra cup, his fingers brushing over the tip of your breast, making you flinch and moan repeatedly.

He watches your face intently, the sun shining through the thin curtains of his room and tracing the lines of your face.

You’re overcome with wetness, your body pulsating and waiting for him.

You moan his name through your gritted teeth, shifting uncomfortably as he flicks his finger over and over your tender breast.

“What? What do you want?”

You shake your head and see the confused expression on his face.

“I-I need you… right now.”

“How?”

“I—mm—I want to feel you.”

Moving your arm awkwardly, you press your palm against the bulge in front of his boxers.

“Ahh,” he groans, his body lifting as your palm moves side to side. “D-Don’t.”

“Please,” you beg. “I need this.”

Lifting his hips, he pushes down his boxers and leaves them at the foot of the bed.

Rolling so he’s on top of you again, he takes your legs and wraps them around himself loosely.

“Are you sure y—”

“Yes!” you say eagerly. “I-I mean, yes.”

He smiles with a bitten lip, kissing you deeply.

Occupying your tongue with his own, he takes hold of your hips and slowly enters you.

“Oh, God,” you gasp, pulling away from the kiss and shifting a little.

His body remains still as he grits his teeth, emitting a small hissing sound.

After a few seconds of him staying absolutely still, you drag your nails down his biceps.

“Move, damnit.”

He does as he’s told, pulling almost all the way out of you and thrusting back in slowly.

“Mmm,” you moan, arching your back.

Thrusting over and over again, he drops one of your legs and shifts it to your side.

“What are you d—oh, my fucking God…” you groan, bucking your hips upwards when you feel him hit a bundle of tight nerves that make you salivate.

“Mm, right there,” you moan, your voice cracking.

Your body is in complete ecstasy as his thrusts take over you, every part of you shaking in absolute bliss.

Opening your eyes after realizing they’ve been shut tight, you watch his facial expression changing from concentration to complete satisfaction.

One minute, his mouth is wide open as his nerves are burning on fire; the next, he’s biting his lip to keep from disturbing the neighbors with a loud moan.

“Faster,” you say, resting your feet on the bed and pushing your knees into his waist.

The sides of his torso brush against your thighs as he obliges your wishes.

“L-Like that?” he asks.

“Mmm, God, yes,” you answer. “Please… m-more.”

He circles his hips, making you moan his name repeatedly.

You feel that tingle in your toes starting and you know your end is coming.

Thrusting your hips up to meet his, you rotate your body in the opposite direction.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, dropping his forehead against yours.

Your sudden movements make his spine curve in blinding pleasure.

“Oh, my God. D-Don’t m-move like that,” he says, his eyes shut tightly.

“Don’t?” you question.

“Wait, n-no… keep doing that—oh, my God. Oh, my fucking God.”

Wanting to take control, you push him up and roll over to be on top.

You feel him throbbing inside of you still and decide to ride him until there’s nothing left in him.

“Oh, my God, take me,” he says. “I’m all… fucking… yours…”

It’s hard for him to breathe as you make waves with your body, rotating your hips against the clockwise motion of his.

Resting your palms against his chest, you scratch as you feel your walls clamping down on him in complete pleasure.

You moan his name loudly, more times than you can possibly count.

Scratching his chest, you look down and see the red lines that are a result of your nails digging into his skin.

Bucking your hips a few more times, you slam down onto him.

He screams out your name, his nails drawing rows of scratches on your sensitive hips.

“Make me come hard,” he demands, his voice rough.

With that, you slam yourself down one last time before feeling him come to his end.

Riding out your still-going climax, you feel as if every nerve in your body is about to explode.

You can’t breathe as you finally climb off of him, laying down next to him.

Almost unable to move, it takes every ounce of what little strength is left in him to drag you up to the pillows and tuck the both of you under the blanket.

You can’t talk, but let your rapidly beating heart do the talking.

“Well,” he finally says, “that’s one way to not be bored during the Summer.”

Frustration

2008-06-04T21:14:00.001-07:00

Written by Michelle, a non-DMG, but a talented writer. [:

Taking a step out of his hotel room, Kevin walked slowly down the hall. He was bored to say the least, bored and very frustrated. Not that he could openly admit it to anyone in his family. Possibly Joe, but this wasn’t the type of thing anyone wanted to discuss with their younger brother. That’s when he saw her. Her long brunette hair fell in soft waves around her face. Turning her head, she looked over her shoulder smiling at Kevin, who smiled back. The mystery girl stopped walking down the hall and turned completely to face Kevin, she waited until he was right next to her before speaking.

“Hey, haven’t seen you around here before.” Her voice was gentle as she smiled up at him.

“I’m just here for the weekend.” Her smile dropped and she nodded in understanding.

“Oh, I’ve been here for nearly a week already.” Kevin eyed her questionably. “My house is being renovated at the moment, so I get to live out of a hotel room.” He laughed.

“I’ve been living out of a hotel room for years it seems.” Suddenly the girl’s eyes light up.

“I’m sorry if this sounds a little forward, but I don’t usually run into anyone my age at this hotel. Do you want to go to the hot tub with me? I was just heading down there to relax, I could use the company.”

Kevin stared wide eyed before nodding. After asking her to wait for a moment he stopped at his room to quickly change. Returning to her side the two made their way to the top floor of the hotel to the hot tub. Luckily for the both of them no one else was there. Kevin tried to advert his eyes as she slowly pulled down her jeans and lifted her shirt over her head. Instead he watched her slowly, his eyes following each article of clothing as it slipped off her body and onto the floor. A smirk grew on her face once she realized he was watching her. Since she had an audience she slipped into the hot tub slowly letting out a sigh once she felt the water wash over her. Turning her head she smiled as Kevin just stood there, watching.

“You going to join me? Or just stand there?”

Shaking his head, Kevin pulled himself out of his mind and quickly slipped off his clothes until he was only standing in his swim short. Stepping into the hot tub, Kevin took a chance and sat down next to the girl. As the talked, he caught himself slowly inching closer to her with each passing moment. It wasn’t until he noticed she was moving closer as well that a smirk grew on his face. The girl’s body turned to face Kevin and he did the same.

“It must be pretty frustrating being on the road all the time. Just you and your family, no one else.” There was something suggestive in her voice as she leaned forward slowly, Kevin followed suit as he nodded slowly.

“Frustrating is a good word for it.”

“You know, I might be able to help with that frustration of yours. If you want.”

Instead of responding with an answer, Kevin closed the small gap between them and their lips meet. It was only gentle and soft for a moment before his hands wrapped around her waist. He pulled her closer and in moments the kiss intensified. Her lips parted as Kevin teased her with the tip of his tongue. Their tongues began to dance and he swiftly lifted her up making her straddled him.

Pulling back slightly, Kevin moved his lips from hers and began trailing kisses along her jaw line. The moment his lips reached the soft skin behind her ear, a moan escaped her lips. Her head titled back slightly granting him more access. As he sucked her neck gently, his hands roam her back until they reached the tie of her swimsuit. With one swift pull, the tie came undone and Kevin undid the top tie as well. Their bodies separated for a moment and her swimsuit top fell to the water and floated away.

Kevin let out a sharp breath as their skin touched again. The breath turned into a groan as she pressed up against him, her breasts moving against his chest with every heavy breath of hers. His lips finally removed themselves from her neck and captured her lips again. Their hips grinded together, she lifted herself slightly only to lower herself down again. The motion continued and Kevin’s breathing quickened rapidly. His head fell backwards as her lips moved along his neck and along his collar bone. His hands moved to her waist clutching her tightly as her tongue ran along the bone and a second groan was released. The kissing stopped for a moment and Kevin glanced down to see her running her hands along his chest. Her nails scratched his chest softly and his body jerked. A smirk grew on her face.

“Something exciting you?”

“You could say that.”

He smirked finally lifting his head up to look at the view sitting on him. His hands ran up her sides resting at the base of her breasts before rounding to her back pulling her close. Their lips crashed into each other again. Kevin’s hands once again run down her sides until they began to tug gently on her swimsuit bottoms. Pushing on his chest she pulled away so she was now standing in the middle of the hot tub. His eyes traveled the length of her body captivated by her as she seductively pushed the swimsuit bottoms down. Lust filled Kevin’s eyes as she made her way back toward him.

Instead of straddling him again, she stood him front of him, her head titled to the side as her hand grazed his knee. Bending over slightly her other hand touched his other leg and with a smirk her hands ran along the swimsuit fabric each inch they moved causing her to bend over more. Her hands made their way toward his inner thigh as her face become just inches from his. Rather than waiting for her to move the final inch, Kevin lifted his head their lips meeting. He kissed her hungrily, wanting to never forget the taste of her.

Her hands finally reached their destination and Kevin inhaled sharply. Her hand pressed against him, moving just the right way to make his entire body jerk again. As one hand teased him, her other untied his swim shorts and began to roughly tug at them. Lifting his hips, Kevin helped to quickly remove his only article of clothing, never once did they break the intense kiss. His hands moved to her waist gripping her tightly again, leading her body closer to his. She resumed her position straddling him, this time remaining up on her knees.

Kevin’s kisses began to trail down her body again, passing her collar bone and running lightly down her breast bone. Once he reached the valley between her breasts, he let one hand release its hold on her waist and cupped her breast gently. His mouth kissed its way up her other breast until finally sucking on her nipple while his hand massaged her breast. Her head was thrown back as she let out a loud moan, only encouraging him to continue. Her fingers entangled themselves in his hair, holding him closely to while his lips moved to tease her other breast. Her breath was shallow as he continued to work, her crest moving rapidly with each attempt at a breath. Another loud moan was released as Kevin’s tongue swirled around her nipple.

Pulling away she looked down at him, his eyes were glossed over with lust just staring at her heaving chest before finally looking up at her. Her green eyes were pleading. Without needing to say a word, Kevin’s hands clutched her waist and began to lower her down. He stopped just as he was about to enter her, teasing her entrance. Her eyes fluttered closed in anticipation. Finally he lowered her down completely, his breath caught in his throat for a moment as she slipped down onto him. Kevin’s breath was released as a loud groan only rivaled by hers, both seeming to echo in the empty room.

His eyes closed for a moment, enjoying the feeling of her around him. Opening them he saw her head thrown back again breathing deeply. Guiding her waist, he lifted her up slowly, only to lower her down again just as slow. The movements were agonizingly slow, only making them both crave more.

“F…faster…oh god…pl...please.”

She breathed to him and his obliged. Their rhythm steadily increased, Kevin trying to remain in control. Moaning loudly, her hands ran through her hair, her head thrown back, as he continued to guide her body. Her eyes finally opened and she looked down at him. Licking her lips she lowered her head their lips crushing into each other as if their lives depended on it. His hands began to roam her back again as she continued their rhythm herself. Her knees spread allowing him to reach a new stop inside her as she crashed down against him.

Moans echoed through the room, each one louder than before. His hands gripped the small of her back tightly as he felt himself reach his limit. He kissed her neck, shoulder, cheek, lips, every inch of skin he could find as she crashed down against him harder. Each movement faster, hard than the previous. Both of their heads were thrown back as she pulsed around him, her whole body quivering. Kevin’s body became rigid as he finally let himself go. Jerking for a moment, he fell back against the side of the hot tub, his heavy breathing the only noise coming from him. She lowered herself down, still surrounding him. They sat there in silence, chests still heaving, smirking at each other.

---
Rolling over in bed Kevin opened his eyes to the morning sun washing over him. With a frustrated groan he realized the night had all been a dream. His frustration got the best of him again. The phone rang and he picked it up only to be informed the family was meeting downstairs for breakfast. Getting ready quickly he left his private room and headed down the hall.

In front of him was seemingly familiar long brunette hair cascading down in soft waves. Kevin’s eyes widened as she turned her head over her shoulder. Smirking over at him was the girl from her dreams. She didn’t stop this time or try to say anything. Instead she winked and continued down the hall, leaving Kevin stunned.

Thinking

2008-05-15T22:54:00.000-07:00

Also written by Alex. [:

“Thinking”
Jumping onto the dock, you grab the rope and loop it around the cleat, securing it in place. You make sure the knot is tight; you’re uncle really wasn’t pleased the last time he went out t get his boat and found it 200 yards away, requiring a canoe trip to retrieve it, all while paying customers waiting impatiently dockside. You sigh, looking up at the sky. Dark clouds were forming over the mountains. Soon, they would creep down the valley, passing over the green tree tops before hovering over the lake, delivering buckets of rain to the already engorged body of water. This night she wouldn’t get much sleep; she’d have to sandbag the basement…just in case. Jumping back on the boat, you clean up your mess, gathering your items, and straightening out the cushions. You suddenly jump, dropping your belongings. You had heard footsteps on the dock and knew it couldn’t be your uncle, thank God. It was Sunday afternoon, his day off; he was at the bar, spending his extra money from the week. He’d stumble back later that evening, belligerent and sloppy…wanting attention. He’d bang on your door, begging to be let in. Sure he was your uncle, but “Only by marriage,” he told you. Still you refused, disgusted by the thought.
Looking around to see who disturbed your presence; your eyes fall on a tanned boy, with loose black shaggy hair and penetrating hazel eyes. “Jesus Joe!” you clutch your chest, “You scared me.” “Sorry,” he shrugged, smiling apologetically, “I just wanted to come by and see you… we’re leaving tomorrow.” “Oh,” you say, dropping your eyes to the ground. You didn’t want him to leave; he had such an effect on you. He made you smile, made you laugh, made you be yourself. You met him a few months earlier, at the beginning of the season. His family rented your uncle’s service for an afternoon tipping him extra to work on his Sunday. That first day, you hated him, or at least, you tried to tell yourself you did especially after he accidentally knocked you overboard, sailing at 40 knots per hour.
However, all that “hate” vanished when he was the first one to “save” you; jumping after you without hesitation. You were an excellent swimmer and probably wouldn’t have needed his help otherwise, but the speed of the fall and the rough contact with the water sent you spinning, not knowing which was up or which was down. He grabbed your wrist, pulling you to the surface and hooking his arm tightly around your waist. You coughed, choking on water and struggling to breathe. “I’ve got you,” he told you sweetly, “You’re okay.” Letting you borrow his sunglasses for the rest of the day after Lake Meredith claimed yours, the two of you dried off side by side, getting to know each other. Apparently no one borrowed his glasses. How could you ever hate him?
He left the next day; the short vacation was over. You got a phone number and a kiss on cheek, more than you could ever hope for. He promised that he would return; that he’d make it up for knocking you overboard, as if saving you wasn’t enough. And he did, family in toe, he returned a month later, just as he promised. He could only steal away two days, but he spent as much as he could with you, inviting you to join his family, who were all more than welcome, especially the little one. Joe said he had a crush on you. That was cute.
He left you again, but this time with a kiss on the lips, one that lingered, that made you both open your eyes slowly and exhale deeply. Wow. There was something there. He promised once again to come back, to stay longer; he promised that he’d find time. He promised to call, to text, to some way reach you, to connect with you by any means necessary. Sometimes it would be late, nearly three AM, when he called. But you didn’t mind; he carried you away from your reality, serenading you with sweet lyrics, making you feel like you were the only one who mattered. You could hear the want in his voice and saw how he motioned to you in every televised appearance. That wink…that quick wink, was all you needed to send you over the edge. You gripped your pillow tightly at night and pretended it was him, humming you to sleep with his sweet, melodic voice. You hoped one day it was really him.
And it was. Two nights previous, he and you lay on your porch, watching the stars illuminate the night sky over the lake. You fell asleep on him that night, wearing his sweatshirt, and swinging on the hammock. He was gone by morning…you hadn’t seen him since. Not until now.
“I’m sorry I left the other day,” he says from the dock, “I woke up and it was 5 in the morning…my parents were freaking out…they thought we…you know.” You blush; you’d thought about it so many times. You wanted to so badly. You never have, but you would for him. You were waiting for love and you were pretty sure love was standing right in front of you. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t. He would have to make that decision, if he wanted to. And you hoped to God that he did. “Still…sorry,” you apologize once again. He shrugs, smiling apologetically. “Soo…you just getting back in?” he asks you.
“Yea…I took it out for the afternoon,” you answer; for the first time you’re scared to look in his eyes. Maybe he’d see right through you. “By yourself?” he asked you, furrowing his brows. “Yea,” you tell him simply, “I like to think out there,” you point to the center of the lake, “It’s so peaceful out there…I drop anchor, take a nap…and just…think.” “Oh,” he nods, “…About me?” You smile, “You…and other things.” “Do you have a lot on your mind?” he asks you, becoming more interested. “Yea,” you say softly, dropping your gaze down to the deck once again. “Are you sad?” he asks you, “I mean…do I make you sad? Or is it something else?” “No,” you smile, looking deep into his eyes, “You make me very happy.” If eyes could tell a story, his would write a novel, a classic, French or otherwise, full of beautiful, intricate wording. No one knew what hid behind those eyes…what really went on in his mind, in his soul. He wasn’t just the goof. He was so much more. He had so many layers. You’d peel back one layer, thinking that you’d finally found the center and you find five more layers waiting for you. He let you peel back those layers, though; he let you peer inside.
“So…it’s something else?” he questions you, tiptoeing carefully around the subject; he just wants to get to your center. Will you finally let him? He let you in. You close your eyes and sigh sadly, nodding. “Please tell me,” he pleads, his begging eyes piercing right through you. You fiddle with your fingers, unsure of what to do; how do you answer him? “Do you wanna take it back out for a little bit?” he asks you. “I can’t…it’s gonna rain soon,” you tell him, “I don’t want to get caught in that.” “Oh,” he sounds disappointed as he playfully kicks the wooden dock post. “But we just sit here for a little bit, if you want,” you tell him. “Oh,” he picks his head up and smiles, “Yeah, I’d like that.” Opening the small, iron gate, you let him enter the boat, grasping hold of his hand to steady him through the rocky motion.
Waiting for you to click the door shut and turn back to him before speaking, looks at you, eyeing you up and down. Your striped summer dress fit you so nicely; it made his fingers itch to reach out and trust you. “So,” he begins trailing onto the awkward subject once again, “Can you tell me what’s making you sad…please?” He smiles sweetly; he wanted you to tell him so, so badly. “I,” you begin, searching for the words to say, “I don’t know what it is.” “Okay,” he replies, confused by your statement. “Well I mean…I know part of it, but I’m confused…I don’t really know what to think,” you explain. “So tell me the part you do know,” he says, determined yet cautious. “It’s this place,” you begin. “You don’t like this lake?” he questions. “No…I love the lake…I love the boat…it’s my favorite place…but this place,” you say pointing to your uncle’s house, “My uncle…everything…I just can’t stand it anymore…it’s sucking the life out of me.”
“Your uncle?” he questions you. Oh no, you really don’t want to go there. “Yea…” you trail off, “He’s…not nice.” “Alessa…,” he places a hand on your upper arm, “Does he hurt you?” “No,” you quickly correct him, “No…he hasn’t done anything like that…yet.” Why’d you let the yet slip out? He would only have more questions, no doubt. “Has he tried?” he asks you, his face completely stern and serious. Oh, how he’s hurt her uncle if he ever laid a finger on her sweet head. “Define try,” you say, avoiding the answering him directly. “Alessa,” he eyes you, letting you know to stop the bullshit and tell him the truth already. “Okay…so when he drinks he gets…frisky…but I’ve never let him in…my door is always locked,” you feign a smile, trying to assure him of your safety. “Alessa…that’s not funny,” he tells you, “You’re not safe with him in that house.” “I know,” you sigh, looking down sadly, I know Joe.” “You can’t stay there,” he tells you. “Where else am I going to stay? I work for him…I need to make money…I can’t live at home right now…not since the divorce,” you tell him. “Come with me,” he says hopefully. “I can’t,” you shake your head, “There’s no way Joe.” “Yes you can…pack your stuff…it’s just a few weeks till school starts…we’ll make room for you…but you can’t stay here, you just can’t,” he pleads. “Your parents?” you raise an eyebrow. “I’ll explain everything…I’ll talk to them…it will be fine,” he assures you.
You want to go so badly. Your heart is screaming yes, but your mind is listing off all the reasons why it’s a bad idea: you need money, you’re only 19, your parents, your uncle; he’s Joe Jonas, a rock star. You love him…it would just end up hurting in the end. It wasn’t real. A few weeks would pass you and you’d be back at school, like nothing had ever happened. “Think about it,” he tells you, “Tell me when I leave.” How long was he staying? You sigh, nodding. You would give him the benefit of the doubt, even though your mind had already made its decision. Your heart, on the other hand, was determined to change that.
A gust of wind blows by and a few droplets fall, the sky now completely black. You both look up as lightning cracks across the sky, releasing furious pellets of water. “Oh Joe!” you yell, covering your head with your hands. “Come here,” he yells, grabbing your hand and pulling you down the stairs, below the deck. It was a small captain’s bedroom. A full-sized bed was built into the wall, a small nightstand and attached lamp in the corner. A small, 13” TV even lay on the dresser on the wall opposite the bed. “Here,” Joe says, walking over to the lamp and flicking the switch. Of course, it was broken. Why couldn’t it ever work when it was actually needed? “I’ve got candles,” you remember, reaching into the top dresser drawer. Placing 2 on the bedside table, a third atop the TV, and a few more on the dresser, Joe watches you intently as you go from candle to candle, carefully shielding the match from the wind. “Can you shut that door?” you ask him, nodding your head towards the wooden door pinned against the wall. Feeling a warmth begin to grow once the door is closed and the room secure, you look to Joe and then to the bed, back to him. There is only one place to sit. Hesitantly, he takes a few steps and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the spot next to him, beckoning you forward. Awkwardly, you walk over, sitting beside him. He turns his head to you, brushing the hair out of your eyes so his view isn’t obstructed. You smile; he just made you melt. “You know,” he begins, “You know why I didn’t call yesterday…after I left?” You shake your head, “Why?”
“I was thinking.” He answers simply. “Oh,” you nod; you’re curious, “About me?” “Yea…you…and other things,” he answers, smiling. “Oh,” you reply, “I hope they were good things.” “They were…I think,” he replies, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Are you okay?” you ask him as his demeanor becomes more hesitant, more nervous. “Yea,” he answers, “It’s just…when my parents like freaked out and thought we ….you know…it got me thinking about…you know…and well.” “Well?” you furrow your eyebrows; you’re so confused and anxious, very anxious. “Well…I want to,” he blushes, “With you.” “Me?” your eyes widen; you can’t believe what you’ve just heard. “Yes you,” he says, “Only you…you’re the only one I’d do this for…I mean…if you…want to, if you’re ready.” “I, I,” you stutter; how can you answer that? Yes, of course you want to. You’re scared, of course; you’re scared it will hurt. “I…need you to help me,” you admit, “I’m…scared. I mean, I want to…I’m ready…but I’m scared…I need help…I need you to help me.” You stare him straight in the eyes as he looks at you in wonderment, not believing what he had just heard. “I’ll help you…I promise…I won’t hurt you,” he tells you sincerely, “…I love you Alessa.” You smile; you can’t help it, “I love you too Joe.” He hesitantly places a hand on your thigh, running his thumb back and forth, looking up at you. “….I’ve,” you begin, trailing off.
“What is it?” he asks you, removing his hand from your leg. “I’ve…never said that to anyone before…I just wanted to let you know…that’s like big…for me,” you admit, blushing. He smiles, feeling as if he had won some amazing prize at the fairgrounds. You gave him the most wonderful gift in that moment; he only hoped that his gift could compare. Cupping your face, he brings his lips to yours, gently at first, leaving the softest, sweetest kisses on your satin lips. Bringing your hands up to his face, you run them through his soft, damp hair, taking in his amazing scent. Deepening the kiss, he traces his tongue along your bottom lip; parting them, you allow him entrance to your mouth. Your tongues intertwine, dancing back and forth as he removes a hand from your face and laces his fingers with yours. He gently bites on your bottom lip and you moan; he’s getting you so flustered, but in a good way. Breaking away and looking at you, he smiles as you both struggle to catch your breaths.
His smile fades as he peers deeper into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, making you blush. Nervously looking at you, he raises a hand to your shoulder, slipping the strap to your dress down. Gulping, you watch as he raises his other hand, sliding the other strap off your shoulder as well. Bringing his lips down, he kisses your shoulder, trailing kisses across your chest and stopping when he reaches the other side. You clutch onto him for dear life, nervous, excited, and shaking. Once more he ignores your lips, ravenously attacking your neck, particularly enjoying the sensitive spot right beneath your jaw. He loves hearing your moans as his tongue swirls around your skin, sucking on it, making it bruise. Finally satisfied with his work, he captures your lips once again, kissing you fervently, lustfully. He runs his hands to your back, slowly lowering the zipper to your dress, feeling the dress loosen and hang more and more with each tug. Reaching the bottom, he breaks away, looking at your bare chest before him and swallowing. The air is cold as a draft seeps through the cracks. Standing up and gently pushing you back as he crawls atop you, you start to breathe heavily; your nerves are just too much to handle.
Removing your unzipped dress from your body, he tosses it to the floor. His body warms yours as he shelters you from the cold. Brushing his fingers along your cheek, he smiles at you before capturing your lips once again. He’s propped up on his elbow, careful to not apply too much pressure. This had to be special for you. Running his fingers along your bare skin, he traces your side, feeling the goose bumps beneath his fingers. He breaks apart for a moment. “You’re cold,” he observes, looking at you shivering beneath him. “Here,” he says, getting up and pulling up the blankets, “Get under the covers.” You crawl beneath them and watch as he covers you sweetly. Taking his own shirt by the collar, he pulls it overhead, dropping it next to your dress. His skin tanned; his muscles toned. He is flawless.
Watching intently as he nervously undoes his belt, he slides it off, unbuttoning his jeans next. You swallow as he slides his jeans off, stepping out of them. Lifting up the covers, he climbs in next to you, kissing you once again. You feel his hand on your stomach, heading farther down, and you flinch. This is really going to happen. He smiles at you; a gentle, reassuring smile. “You’re okay,” he reminds you, “I’ve got you…I’m right here.” Of course he was right there…so close. Dipping his fingers beneath the elastic of your underwear, you inhale sharply as he gently rubs your swollen nub, feeling your wetness beneath him. You moan somewhat loudly; he hasn’t even down anything yet and yet you still can’t contain yourself…you just can’t stand it; he’s driving you insane. Removing his hand, he brings himself to his knees, pulling at your underwear. You lift your hips, helping him along. He marvels at your bare body before him his breaths nervously increasing. Shaking, he reaches for his own boxers, pushing them down slowly, revealing his full erect manhood beneath them. You look…you can’t help it. You’re more than certain he’s looked at you but you still blush. He smiles at you, completely taken by your cuteness.
Gingerly laying atop you, he kisses you passionately, building your anticipation even more. “Joe,” you sigh, trying to put an end to his tease. Bringing his hand down, he spreads your legs wide. Grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him, his hardness is at your slick entrance, teasing you. Looking you in the eye, he waits for you to approve; this is completely up to you. Nervously, you shake your head up and down, quivering beneath him. He knows you’re nervous, as is he. It’s not like he’s ever done this before either. Placing an arm on either side of your head, he kisses you gently for a moment before pulling away. “I’ve got you,” he whispers to you. You gasp as he enters you slowly. Seeing you wince in pain for a moment, she stops. “Are you okay? We don’t have to do this,” he tells you, a look of worry adorning his face. “N, no,” you shake your head, “Keep going.” Nodding, he completely enters you; his manhood now completely inside you. It only hurts for a moment; you’re so tight and he’s so big…you needed to adjust. Beginning a painfully slow rhythm, he thrusts into you gently, trying not to hurt you.
He moans lowly and his eyes flicker shut, his hot breath is on you, adding to the moisture of your already damp skin. Sliding in and out of you with ease, he continues his pace, entering you fully before pulling almost completely out and pushing into you again. You start to come alive, moving out of your fear. Gently grasping his face, you pull him down to you, kissing him deeply. He pulls away and your hands travel, raking your fingers along his slick back, earning another moan to escape from his lips. You move your hips against his, creating a steady friction and sending tingles up both yours and his spines. His hips jerk involuntarily, making you yelp; it’s just so hard for him to control his body. “Are you okay?” he asks, panting heavily. “Mmm,” you nod, “Ahh…yeah.” “This feels soo...ahh…so good,” he tells you. You know he’s holding back; he doesn’t want to hurt you. You appreciate the effort but it doesn’t hurt anymore. “Go…” you begin, loosing yourself to a moan a moment later. “W-what?” he asks you, “W-What do you want?” You blush, though your cheeks are already flushed; he wouldn’t be able to notice.
“Mmmm…go faster,” you say, embarrassed. He looks almost relieved to hear you say that; it had been excruciating for him to hold that slow, soft rhythm. Circling his hips around yours, he quickens his pace, even though he still holds back and you can tell. “Don’t…ohh…don’t be afraid,” you tell him, “You’re not…ahhh….not hurting me.” Smirking at how you read his mind, he leans down and kisses you gently.
Thrusting into you harder, he moans loudly; this is way too much for him to take. “Ohh…Joe…yea,” you moan, your chest rising and falling heavily against him with each breath. “…Shit,” he mutters, his hips jerking once again. Moving your hips in rhythm with his, you moan loudly. Clutching his back tightly as he repeatedly pounds into you, you fail to suppress the screams. You feel your toes tingle and know your time is soon. His dick is throbbing inside you, against your walls, adding to the pleasure. You know he can’t be far off either.
“…Awww….fuck,” he breathes, his voice escaping him. “Mmmm…I’m…I’m soo close,” you tell him, throwing you head back into the pillow. His hair is completely damp, curling slightly as it dangles in front of his eyes. Tiny beadlets of sweat have formed at his brow and slowly trickle down the sides of his face.
Grabbing one of your legs, he pins it up high, thrusting into you even deeper. “Oh…” you moan loudly, “Oh my God….Joe…yeah.” He has found a new, hidden bundle of nerves deep inside you. And when he hits that spot, over and over again, you lose yourself, screamingly wildly as every part of you tingles.
He feels you beginning to tense around him and drops your leg, nearly collapsing atop you as he uses his last bits of energy to slam you deep into the mattress, repeatedly. “Oh…Joe…I’m…I’m,” you try to tell him, to let him know, but you can’t even speak. Dropping his forehead against yours, you feel his hot, jagged breaths on you. He grunts loudly and you know he’s getting tired….but not yet; he’s not done. Screaming his name, your body convulses around him, releasing its juices to flow freely onto the sheet.
Feeling your body quiver beneath him and your muscles contract around his manhood, he thrusts only twice more before releasing himself within you. Moaning loudly, he collapses atop you, softly pecking your lips as he struggles to catch his breath. Rolling off of you, he lays next t you and pulls you to him. Smiling, he looks down at you and raises a shaking hand to your face, brushing your damp hair to the side. He runs his thumb across your bottom lip before leaning down to kiss you softly once more.
“I was just thinking,” you say after a few moments. “Mmm….about what?” he asks you, staring at the shadows dance on the ceiling with the gentle rocking motion of the boat. “Everything,” you answer simply, your head resting on his chest. “Oh,” he replies, “Come to any decisions?” “Yea,” you tell him, your mind still processing. “And?” he asks you with anticipation. “I,” you begin, “I want to come with you.” He smiles, “I thought you loved this lake…this boat.” “I do….and now I have another reason to love it….but this lake will always be here for me,” you explain, “And I love you more.”
“We can come back, you know,” he tells you, “You know…take the boat out, drop anchor in the middle of the lake…and…think.” “And other stuff,” you smile coyly. “That too,” he smirks. You both fall silent again, playing with each other’s hands.
“Do…you want to leave with me tonight?” he asks you hesitantly. “I have to pack,” you tell him, “And I have to sandbag the basement. “I’ll help you,” he tells you sweetly, “But…I’m not leaving here without you.” You smile; why did he have to be so charming? “Okay,” you finally agree, “But it has to be before he gets home.” It will be. Don’t worry,” he reassures you, “I’ll get you out of here quickly.”
After laying here silently with you for a few more minutes, he rolls out of bed, grabbing his boxers and sliding them on. You stare intently, amused as he redresses, running his hands through his hair, messing with his curls. Smiling at you, he crawls onto the bed. “Come here you,” he says, your discarded clothing in hand. Pulling the covers off of you, you shiver as the cold air hits your still damp body. “Arms up,” he says, holding your dress ready. You giggle as he slides the dress over your head, zippering it back up. “And now lay back,” he smirks, dangling your underwear on one finger. Placing your feet through the holes, you smile as he slides the underwear slowly up your legs, taking much longer than necessary. Lifting your hips, you help him complete the process. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down with you, kissing him passionately.
“I love you,” he says , smiling against your lips. “I love you too,” you say, finally pulling away. Reluctantly, he gets off the bed, pulling you up with him and wrapping his arms around your waist, embracing you tightly. “Now…let’s get you out of this place,” he smiles, taking your hand. “Joe?” you say timidly. “What is it?” he looks down into your piercing eyes. “Thank you for saving me.”

Italy

2008-05-06T21:56:00.001-07:00

You’re left shaking, hanging up the phone.

That’s definitely not the way you were supposed to end things.

”Hello?” you whisper into your phone, noticing the early hour on the clock.

It’s almost two in the morning. Who would be calling right now?

“I hope you have a fucking amazing time in Italy!”

“Excuse me?” you ask, now wide awake.

Checking the caller ID, you frown when you don’t recognize the phone number.

“Who is this?”

“Your supposed best friend,” the person on the other line scoffs.

“Kevin?” you gulp.

“You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

“Um, yes.”

“Why did everyone else get a personal goodbye, but I got nothing?”

You can’t answer. Not now. This wasn’t how you meant to tell him goodbye.

You open and close your mouth silently, words refusing to come out.

“So that’s how it’s going to be, huh?” he says furiously, his breath increasing.

“No,” you’re finally able to choke. “This isn’t…”

This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, you want to say, but the words are stuck in your throat.

“I guess I just mean that much to you, huh?”

“Kevin, listen. I was planning on s—”

“Save it. Save your fucking story. Put aside the fact that I’m the one person you could trust; I’m the one person who loved you the most when you thought everyone you loved was lost. Forget that I’m the one who rocked you to sleep when you couldn’t stop crying. Forget it. Forget all of it. Have a good time at that fucking university.”

“That’s not true, Kevin. You’re—”

“You must not love me enough.”

Your next sentence is cut off by his phone hanging up harshly.

Your heart’s pounding in your ears, threatening to rip out of your chest.

Your flight’s in five hours. You’re supposed to be going over to the airport in a couple of hours.

You hate flying. You hate airplanes. But studying abroad, in Italy of all places, was an opportunity you couldn’t pass on.

But you can’t leave; you can’t now. Not after what’s just happened.

Kevin’s words shoot at your heart like pins.

You want to tell him goodbye.

You want to hold him and never let go.

If there is one reason that exists in the world for you to refuse to leave, he’s the reason.

You don’t tell him that, though.

How could you? And break his heart anymore than it already is?

You sink into your couch, one of the few pieces of furniture left in your tiny apartment.

It’s too much to take.

Unable to rid the pain aching in your chest, you grab your keys from the table and hoist your purse over your tense shoulders.

Practically running down the stairs and jumping into your car, you start the short drive to Kevin’s house just a little ways across town.

Stopping in front of the house you recognize as what used to be his parents’, you park in the driveway and ignore the fact that there are no lights on.

Darting to his door, you’re unable to control your fist as it knocks loudly on the door.

You finally remember it’s past two and decide to go with plan B.

Pulling your special key ring out of your purse, you manage to locate the one belonging to his house and put it in the keyhole.

It’s for emergencies only, you remember him telling you distinctly.

“This is an emergency,” you breathe, finally able to unlock the door.

Stepping in and peering around quietly, you see the dimmest of dim lights peeking in from around the corner of the hallway.

Walking towards it as slowly and silently as you can, you notice it’s coming out of the den.

In your mind, you go over the phone conversation you two shared merely a couple of hours ago and you can’t help but start to feel angry.

How dare he talk to you like that?

How dare he not hear your side of the story?

How dare he—

“How dare you!” you yell, finding yourself pushing the door to the den open and setting your hands on your hips.

“What the hell?” he yelps in surprise, jumping up from his desk chair and holding his hand over his heart. “How’d you get in here?”

“My key, you dumbass. Now answer the damn question.”

“How dare I what?”

“You think I don’t care enough? You think I don’t love you enough?”

“Why the hell else would you choose to not say goodbye to me, huh? Why—”

“Because it hurts too damn much, Kevin!”

“What?” he asks, a confused look on his face.

Tears of both anger and sadness rush down your face.

You set one of your hands on your hips and the other on your forehead, looking around the room frantically.

Words scramble through your heads and you can’t form a single coherent thought.

“Kevin, I didn’t say goodbye to you because I knew that if I did, you’d be the one person who would be able to convince me to stay. It broke my heart,” you choked, “not saying goodbye to you. But I knew that it would be best if we left things the way they were.”

His eyes are fallen and downcast.

You notice, for the first time, the tired look on his face and the redness of his eyes.

“That’s why I didn’t say goodbye to you.”

You cross your arms over your chest, trying to breathe normally.

Your tears have subsided as you wait for Kevin’s response.

He swallows loudly and you release a heavy sigh.

“Fine. I will have a good time in Italy… without you and your nonsense.”

It kills you inside, but you turn on your heel and walk towards the front of the house.

Your shoes click against the hardwood floor and the sound is almost deafening.

Your fingers brush the cool metal of the doorknob and you pull it open.

Before it’s even halfway open, you see a hand forcibly push it back.

Turning around, you see the top of Kevin’s head.

His body is resting against his palm on the door and he’s looking at the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpers.

“Of course,” you scoff.

You hear him whisper your name, almost begging you for forgiveness.

“Kevin, you hurt me. I can’t believe you’d think for one second that—”

Your words are cut short when Kevin roughly pushes you against the door and kisses you.

The kiss is forceful, and it takes you by surprise.

Your muscles are tense as you don’t know how to react.

Suddenly, you feel your body ease against his and you shut your eyes, returning the kiss.

His lips are soft as they press gently against yours.

Not wanting to press on too far, he stops the kiss and pulls away from you.

His eyes are sincerely apologetic, with a small hint of chaotic.

“I am so incredibly sorry. I guess I was just upset that you didn’t say goodbye, then that turned into anger and—”

It’s your turn to stop him.

Smiling, you press your finger to his lips and silence him.

Slowly wrapping your hands around the back of his neck, you pull your bodies closer and attach your lips to his again.

It doesn’t take long until your tongue parts his lips and you bite his bottom lip gently.

He lets out a small grunt once your tongues touch and you feel his hands grab your hips harshly.

Deepening the kiss, you suck violently on his tongue and shiver when he lets out a loud groan.

Parting for air, your breath is heavy as you say, “Let’s go to your room.”

He swallows and nods slowly, leading you down the hall.

You walk into his room and sit on his bed, watching as he closes the door quietly.

Tangling his hand in his hair, he looks around before his eyes fall on you.

Coaxing him over with your finger, you smile when he walks over to you.

Standing between your legs, he puts his hand on your chin and lifts your lips to meet his.

You stand slowly, your lips never leaving his.

Pulling at the bottom of his shirt, he takes it off and throws it.

Your hands clutch the side of his torso, as if magnetically attracted to it.

Letting your fingers dance across his sides, you smile when you hear him give a quiet moan.

“That tickles,” he mumbles against your lips, and you feel his hands pushing your arms away.

Both of you are wearing pajama pants, it being so late, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

Moving your hips slightly so your thigh hits his hard self, you smirk into the kiss when you feel him flinch.

Doing a few more times, he lets out a grunt and holds your hips still.

He pulls his lips away from yours, looking at you without saying a word.

Not wanting to ruin the moment, you remain silent and wait for his next move.

You feel the fabric of your shirt loosening around your waist, followed by the feeling of his somewhat cool touch on your burning skin.

Letting out a loud breath, you lick your lips as his hands travel threateningly slow.

Your eyes repeatedly flutter open and closed as his hands slowly travel higher, goose bumps forming all over your body.

“Kevin,” you breathe, your eyes now closed, your head lulled to the side.

He leaves butterfly kisses on your jaw line, his fingers easily unclasping your bra.

The freedom from your bra makes you bite your lip and he takes your shirt and bra off at the same time.

His movements are achingly slow, but you’re enjoying every minute of it.

His hands snake up your sides and he cups your breasts gently, your skin starting to pale.

Softly pressing his lips to your jutting collarbones, he rests his hands on the elastic of your pajama pants.

Your anticipation gets the best of you and you find yourself growing more and more impatient.

“Just, ugh,” you whimper edgily, “just take it off already.”

He laughs quietly to himself before finally pushing down your pants.

You step out of them, the air hitting your skin like pins.

“It’s colder than I thought it was,” you shudder, almost shaking.

“Get under the covers,” he directs you monotonously.

You do as you’re told and get under his thin sheets, waiting for him to join you.

His eyes look over the silhouette of your almost-naked body under his covers.

His throbbing self is quite evident through his thin, plaid pajama pants.

Suddenly finding haste within himself, he practically rips off his pants and tosses them to his dresser, almost knocking over a bottle of cologne.

Your eyes never leave him, trailing over his defined abdomen and the v-shaped bone in his lower torso that disappears into his boxers.

“What are you looking at?” he rasps.

“You,” you answer simply, waving him over.

He crawls over to you on all fours on top of the blanket, hovering over you.

Even through the fabric of your own panties, plus the sheets between the both of you, you can feel the anticipating heat radiating from his lower body.

He lowers his head to yours, stopping when your lips are just touching.

“You know I love you, right? That’s why I got mad.”

“Yes. Now, stop talking,” you say, quickly closing the gap between you.

Pulling him close to your body with your arms around his neck, you push and pull until he’s under the covers with you.

Throwing the sheets so they’re completely covering both of your bodies, you feel Kevin’s antsy fingers on the waistband of your panties.

You can see only a little bit of his face illuminated by the lamp in his room.

“Take them off,” you breathe, the air getting hotter and your skin getting damper.

He bites his lip before tugging on the fabric and sliding them off of your legs.

Kneeling between your legs, he lowers himself over you and the material of his boxer-briefs scratch at your skin.

“Kevin,” you whine, “take them off.”

His lips are busy leaving kisses on your stomach, so you push him up onto his palms.

“Fine then,” you say, taking your legs and dragging them down his sides until his boxers are at his knees. “Thank… you…”

Your words trail off as you take in the sight of his body.

He’s throbbing to be inside of you, it’s obvious.

Eagerly wrapping your legs around his waist, you pull him closer to you.

“Kevin,” you whisper once your lips are near his ear.

“Mm?” he asks.

“I want you,” you say, a moan accompanying your words.

“Do you?” he says, his eyes meeting yours.

You see the light twinkle of green and hazel in his eyes and your heart skips a beat.

“Very much so,” you reply.

“How?”

You feel your cheeks darkening as the words in your mind refuse to come out.

“Tell me,” he says, eager to please you.

“Long and hard, Kevin,” you say, a low groan following your words.

“Your wish is my command,” he smiles.

Licking his lips, he puts his hand on your lower back and tilts you slightly.

“What a… ahhh,” you gasp, feeling him slide into you with ease.

Filling you completely, you feel him pulsing against your walls and every nerve ending on your body is bouncing out of control.

“Kevin,” you whimper, your voice just a tiny decibel.

He doesn’t dare move out of fear that he’d hurt you.

You hear him swallow nervously, so you set your hands on his damp shoulders and he immediately relaxes.

“I need you to move, Kevin. I… I need to feel you move.”

He licks his lips again, slowly moving his hips against yours.

You feel his muscles moving in rhythm with his body and you start to squirm under him.

His large proportion hits every nerve perfectly and you feel the sensation in your toes.

His pace is slow, but steady, and you can’t help but let out a soft moan.

“H-How’s, oh god, how’s that?” he asks, his throat dry.

“Better than I could ever explain,” you moan, your eyes shut loosely and your jaw open widely.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, biting your bottom lip and tugging gently.

“Mm, faster, Kevin,” you say, your head tipping into the bed in sheer pleasure.

His hips move faster, gently at first.

Your moans become harsher, reaching new intensities with every thrust into you.

Suddenly, his hips start to hit yours harshly.

Losing control of his own self, he starts to thrust harder and harder into you.

Reaching behind him as best as he can, he unhooks your ankles that you hadn’t even realized were hooked behind his back.

Dropping one of your legs onto the bed, he lifts the other one higher.

You licks your lips when you feel him hit a bundle of nerves that you never even knew existed.

“Oh god,” you moan, your heart rate speeding up.

Your hands search around blindly and you grab onto a pillow.

Stabbing your fingers into the soft cushion, you let out a loud moan that makes Kevin’s pace pick up even more.

“You like that?” he asks you cockily, licking his lips.

“Y-Yes,” you moan, your voice growing higher.

You’re both sweating against the heat of the comforter over both of you and you can barely breathe.

Setting one of his hands against his headboard as he thrusts over and over into you, harder each time, the headboard starts to rattle and hit the wall.

Your screams of absolute bliss overtake the sound of the headboard hitting the wall, and you feel your muscles begin to tighten around Kevin.

He’s groaning loudly, breathing harshly into your ear as both of you circle your hips in opposite directions.

The friction creates new sensations for the both of you and you know you’re almost at your end.

Lifting your hips at a steeper angle, Kevin thrusts into you a few times.

Your moans grow louder and louder and before you know it, your muscles are tightening around him.

Grabbing at the sheets under you, you let out a loud moan and scream out Kevin’s name.

Tiredly thrusting into you only twice more, Kevin comes to his end as well.

Almost unable to move, Kevin slowly climbs to your side and looks towards the ceiling.

He uncovers the both of you, and the cold air hits your burning, sweating bodies.

Your shallow breaths are the only sounds in the room and your climax is still hitting you.

“Wow,” you hear Kevin finally breathe.

“I… never knew… you had it in you,” you say, your hair sticking to your wet forehead.

You see him crack a smile and you laugh.

“I don’t want to go to Italy anymore,” you say. “Why should I go when I have my own piece of Italy right here?”

“Come here,” he says, pulling you against him. “Go.”

“What?” you ask, still struggling to find your breath.

“I don’t want you to stay here because of me.”

“But—”

“No ands, ifs, or buts about it. You deserve to go there. Besides, at least you can look forward to that every time you come home.”

You nod against his chest and trace invisible shapes on his stomach.

Kissing his wet skin, you rest your head against his body and swallow.

“You know…” you begin, your fingers dancing on his chest.

“Hmm?”

“I don’t have to leave for another few hours.”

“Oh yeah?” he says.

“Yes. How about another—”

You laugh when Kevin turns around and immediately attaches his lips to yours.

Desktop

2008-05-06T21:52:00.000-07:00

You pull open the shower curtain and turn on the faucet.

Undressing as you wait for the water to warm up, you put your clothes in the hamper.

Content with the water’s temperature, you step into the shower.

Letting the water run through your hair, you sigh when it hits your skin.

Reaching for the shampoo, you realize you forgot it on the counter outside.

“Damn,” you mutter, stepping out from under the shower and wringing your hair dry.

Not wanting to waste any water, you turn off the faucet and step out of the shower quickly.

Grabbing the shampoo, it slips out of your hands and onto the floor.

“Stupid sha—”

Your hand is mere centimeters away from the bottle when you hear the door open.

Covering yourself as best you can with your hands, your eyes widen when you see your best friend standing in the doorway.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you scream.

“What are you doing here?” he asks just as confusedly.

“I live here, so you don’t have the right to ask me that.”

He shrugs, running his hand through his hair.

“I thought you knew I was here.”

“Do I look like I knew?” you ask, grabbing a towel as quickly as you can and wrapping it around yourself.

“Guess not. I stayed here because my house is full of infected people.”

“What?”

“Everyone’s sick.”

“Oh,” you sigh, tightening the towel once you realize it’s starting to fall.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I’m going. Hence, the shower.”

“Oh,” he says, matching the tone in your voice.

He rubs his chest with his palm before clearing his throat and for the first time, you notice he’s shirtless.

Your best friend… shirtless.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him, but you know you can’t just stare at his naked torso.

He’s your best friend.

This could be awkward.

Or maybe it couldn’t be.

“H-Hey…”

“What?” he asks.

“Where’s your shirt?”

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know anyone was here, so I didn’t bother with a shirt. I was just gonna grab a brush.”

You want to listen to what he’s saying.

But, he’s shirtless.

It’s a little hard.

And the funny thing is, that’s not the only thing that’s hard.

“Well, h-here,” you say, opening a drawer and handing him a brush.

Bad move.

The knot in your towel comes undone and the towel slips completely out of your hands, giving him a full view of you.

You reach for the towel, but look at your best friend and notice that he hasn’t even looked away.

“You’re not even going to turn around?” you ask softly, wanting to laugh.

“Oh jeez, sorry,” he says, turning and looking at the wall.

Blindly searching for a bathrobe, he finds one and tosses it in your general direction.

You smirk, seeing how awkward he’s acting.

You look at him, cocking your head to the left, and bite your lip at the way his back muscles move.

“Excuse me,” you squeak, “that was a little rude.”

“Huh?” He turns around, slapping his forehead when he sees you’re still nude.

“You’re just gonna throw it at me?”

“Well, I—”

“Why don’t you put it on me since you’re the one who’s acting all awkward?”

You notice his Adam’s apple jerk as he swallows.

“Y-You want me to put it on you?”

His eyes are closed, but you can see the hardness growing in his jeans.

“Hey,” you whisper, moving closer to him.

“Hmm?”

“If you really wanted to cover me up, you would have done that by now,” you smile, taking his bottom lip between your teeth.

You press your bare chest into his, making him groan at the contact.

Feeling you tug at his lip with your teeth, he leans forward and kisses you.

Gently at first, his lips move slowly and softly.

You feel his rough hands on your hips, holding your body against his.

Hooking your thumbs in the waistband of his flannel pajama pants, your lightly scratch his skin.

Smirking against his mouth when you feel him twitch, you deepen the kiss.

Sucking on his bottom lip, your hands move and wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to you.

His tongue glides along your lips, parting them.

You feel his tongue brush against yours and moan into the slow kiss.

Moments later, he pulls away from you and walks backwards while trying to grab the doorknob.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says, looking at the tile floor. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You look at him confusedly, wondering what suddenly went wrong.

Before you can call him back, he rushes out of the bathroom and you hear him shut one of the bedroom doors.

Sighing, you pick up the towel and put it on the rack.

Wrapping the bath robe around yourself, you walk outside and inspect all of the rooms.

You finally find him in one of them, sitting on the bed with his shirt still off.

He’s staring at his hands and doesn’t even budge when you open the door.

“Why’d you run off like that?” you ask, folding your arms over your chest and leaning against the door way.

“N-Nothing,” he says, unsure of himself.

“Like hell. What’s wrong with you?”

“You’re my best friend and I would be taking advantage of you.”

Walking towards him as you laugh, you stop between his legs.

“It’s not taking advantage of someone if that person is willing,” you say, kissing the spot right under his ear.

You feel his hands on your thighs; the bath robe, you realize, barely goes past midway.

His hands are hesitant, then he completely lets go of you.

“I can’t!” he yells, getting off of the bed and running into the hall.

You run after him and see him stopped in the middle of the hall, one hand on his waist and the other tangled in his hair.

“I want it as much as you do,” you tell him, wrapping your hands around him from behind.

His back muscles flinch as you kiss up his spine.

“And I know you want me as much as I want you.”

Your hands slide down his chest, resting just above his low waistband.

He turns to face you, his lips quickly attaching to yours.

You stumble slightly backwards, making you wrap your arms loosely around his neck.

Lifting you up, he wraps your legs around his waist and pushes you harshly against the wall.

You let out a loud groan when you feel him sucking roughly on your tongue, wrapping your legs tighter around his torso.

Pulling your lips apart from his, you rest your head back against the wall and moan when his lips attack your neck.

Your hands are tangled in his mess of hair and you tug gently.

With one hand on your back supporting you, he takes his free one and loosens the collar of the robe.

Licking and sucking hard on your collarbones, you bite your lip with the sensation of his lips on you.

Once a dark hickey forms on your neck, he traces invisible shapes on your chest with his finger.

“So you want this, huh?” he asks, his mouth near your ear.

“Mmhmm,” you whimper, feeling his hardness fight against his thin pajama pants.

“Where?”

“Huh?”

“You were about to shower, right? How about we take one together?” he suggests, kissing the base of your jaw.

“N-No,” you answer. “Too slippery.”

“Okay. Bed?”

“Cliché,” you grin, almost blushing when he laughs.

“I could just do you right here and now,” he says, pushing you harder against the wall.

You groan, the straightness of the wall competing with your back.

“Hurts too much.”

“Um… okay,” he chuckles, “I’m kind of running out of ideas here.”

He looks down one of the hall and frowns when he sees the bedrooms.

“Cliché, according to you,” he mumbles, smiling crookedly.

He looks the opposite direction and you kiss up his jaw line, sucking and nibbling his earlobe once your lips get there.

“Ahh,” he moans, “or we can…”

He trails off, lifting you and taking you to your room.

You have no idea what he’s thinking, but don’t care.

Streaks of sweat have already begun to run down his bare chest.

You busy your lips with his neck, licking a tender spot that you know makes him weak at the knees.

Holding you tight with one arm behind your back, he clears your desk by flinging everything off of its surface.

“What are you doing?” you ask against his skin.

“I’m sorry for all the times I made fun of you for having a short ass desk.”

“What?” you laugh.

He sets you down on the desk, standing between your legs.

You spread them wider, waiting for him to come closer to you.

His eyes bore into yours, never leaving you as his fingers slowly undo the tie of the robe.

Once it’s undone, he spreads the robe apart, exposing you to him.

He licks his lips once his eyes take in your body.

His lips attach to yours again and you brush your foot up and down the side of his leg.

Feelings his fingers on your knee, you flinch when his hand comes in contact with your inner thigh.

Slowly, his finger inch upward and tease your entrance.

His hands are warm and you tilt your head to the side, waiting for him.

Wanting to tease you, he slowly inserts one finger and you shut your eyes.

Pumping slowly, he licks his parted lips when you emit a moan.

“You like that?” he rasps, his voice low.

“Mmhmm,” you answer, twitching when he adds another finger.

Slowly his fingers go in and out, making you rock your hips against his rhythm.

His thumb comes up to the swollen nub and rotates so slowly that it makes you groan.

“Oh god… J—please stop.”

“What?” he asks, his jaw dropped slightly as he watches you move.

“I n-need to feel you. Please let me feel you,” you beg.

He removes his fingers obediently and repositions himself.

With your feet, you slide both his pajama pants and boxers down to the floor.

Swallowing once you him fully, you wrap your legs loosely around his waist.

He slowly moves forward and you feel his throbbing self near your entrance.

Unable to control yourself, you twitch and tighten your legs around his waist, making him move.

Finally, he slowly enters you.

Groaning at the feeling, he tilts his head back and pushes further into you.

Giving you time to adjust, he slowly moves against you.

At a painfully slow pace, he rocks his hips and thrusts into you.

“Mm, go faster,” you moan, your breath increasing.

“Faster?” he asks, looking at you.

“God, yes,” you answer.

Just as he’s told, he moves his body faster, trying to meet your needs.

He grabs your thighs and moves you slightly, and you find him hitting a pleasure spot you’ve never experience before.

“Oh my god, right there,” you say, stopping him.

“There?”

“Yes, ahh, yess…”

Stabilizing himself with one hand against the wall, he grabs your hips and thrusts faster into you.

“Harder,” you whimper, wanting to feel him hit that spot over and over again.

When he does, you find yourself moaning frequently.

His thrusts become harsh, but smooth, and you feel yourself tensing around him.

“Harder, please…”

“Ahh,” he moans.

“J-ohh,” you moan louder, feeling yourself near the end.

The desk starts shaking and with every satisfying thrust, you hear the wood hit the wall.

“Oh wow,” he groans, your nails making marks in his skin.

Grabbing onto the edge of the desk, your toes begin to curl and you know you’re almost at your climax.

“Ohh, make me come,” you moan, your teeth biting hard into your bottom lip.

He lifts your leg at an angle from your hips and thrusts deeper into you, hitting that bundle of nerves.

Screaming when he finally gets that spot, you tense rapidly around him and writhe on the desk.

He pumps into you a few more times before finally releasing and collapsing over you.

Both of you are breathing heavily, your bodies drenched in sweat.

Pulling his pants up, he falls to his knees and tries to regain the strength in his shaking legs.

Folding the robe over yourself, you fall back against the wall and look at him.

Pulling you to your feet, he stands up with you and kisses you softly.

Both of you have finally gotten your normal breathing pattern back.

Pulling apart, he looks at you.

“That was… fun, to say the least,” he says with a wide grin.

“Definitely,” you agree.

“You still need to take a shower,” he laughs, looking in the direction of the bathroom.

“I guess,” you shrug.

Pulling him by the arm towards the bathroom, you smile at him.

“What?” he asks.

“I need help.”

“With…?”

“My shower.”

“I thought you said it was too slippery?”

“It’s not like you’d drop me,” you shrug.

“True,” he agrees.

“Then let’s go,” you say, pulling him into the bathroom.

“Right now? Don’t you think we should wait?”

“Not really,” you say, giving him an odd look.

“Fine.”

Turning on the shower, he waits and watches as you take off your robe.

Getting in without checking the temperature, you jump when it touches your skin.

“Kevin!” you shriek, surprised when you see him laughing at you. “It’s freezing!”

He’s a jerk.

No, he’s your best friend.

You know you love him.

And now you know he loves you, too.

House of Mouse

2008-05-06T21:50:00.000-07:00

Written by Alex; not an official DMG, but a very talented writer. [: Enjoy!

You’re pacing up and down the hallway, tears welling up in your eyes. This is supposed to be a fun trip, a time to visit your best friends and take a look into their crazy lives. Instead, you’re alone in the hallway, fighting back tears yet failing miserably, and your friends are in the studio, laying down tracks, oblivious to this all. Telling yourself to toughen up and stop being a baby for the sake of saving face in front of a bunch of business people, you wipe away your tears, take a deep breath, and head back to the studio.

Colliding with one of your friends as you open the door, him on his way out to find you, you avert his gaze, looking down at the floor; maybe he won’t notice. “Oh…sorry Kevin,” you say, “I didn’t see you…I…got lost.” He knows your lying; he’s not stupid. “Yeah…uh, not so fast,” he puts a hand on your stomach and backs you up and into the hallway once again. “What’s wrong?” he asks you, looking at your red, puffy eyes. “What? Everything’s fine, c’mon let’s go back in…I wanna hear you what you guys layed down so far,” you shrug his comforting hand off your upper arm, brushing past him and heading for that door. “No,” he says forcefully this time, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to meet his stare, “Everything is not fine. Tell me.” “Kevin,” you whine, “I…I can’t.” Your voice is shaky and tears once again well up, your wall beginning to crumble. “Michelle,” he says softly, picking up your hanging head gently with his hand, “You can tell me.”

“It’s,” you begin; your mind trails off; you wonder if you should tell him. “Please,” he begs you. “It’s Steve,” you finally confess. “Your friend Steve?” he asks confused, “What’s the matter with him?” “Nothing’s the matter with him,” you explain, your attitude making it apparent that Steve was just fine. “Go on,” Kevin tells you, gathering that there is way more to this story than meets the eye. “Well…a few weekends ago, we were drunk at a party. I KNOW…I know you don’t like it when I drink; I’m sorry, I know now…and we were just hanging out…having a great time, and then like…people went up stairs and it was just me and Steve. And at first it was okay but then we started kissing and things got out of hand…by a lot…but I thought it was going to be okay, we were talking and he told me he loved me, and we’ve been such good friends, like, I believed him….so…we…you know,” you can’t look in his eyes any more, you can see he’s hurt. “…I just talked to my friend Kayla,” you begin, embarrassed by your foolishness, “…Steve had sex with two other girls since then…one girl I really hate too…and he knows it…I’m…I’m…just another number,” you break down, putting your face in your hands. “It’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms tightly around you, “You are not just another number…he used you…and when I see him again...I’ll…I’ll…well..let’s not think about that now.”

“But people know...and…they’ll think I’m just another slut,” you cry, “And I’m not like that Kevin.” “I know you aren’t…I know you thought that there was something special between you two…..that he cared for you…..like….like….I do,” he tells you. You take your face out of his shoulder and look up at him; he’s staring directly into your eyes. His eyes are burning into your soul. “W-What?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “You heard me,” he smirks, “I care a lot about you…you are probably my best friend…I…I…I love you.” “Me?” you question him, breaking from his strong embrace and taking a step back, hitting the wall. “Yes you,” he nods, taking a hesitant step closer to you. “I…I don’t know what to say,” you admit, your face becoming red. “Please tell me you feel the same way,” he says lowly, becoming nervous. You look into his eyes. You’ve always noticed their beauty but never before had you been this close. The scent of his cologne fills your nostrils and you feel a tingling sensation deep inside you; your panties start to become moist. Blushing, your body begins to tremble. “I…do,” you choke out.

“You do?” he raises his eyebrows in minor shock. “Mhmm,” you nod your head, “I…love you too Kevin.” You’d been choking it back for so long that it was difficult to finally let it out. “I love you,” you say again, becoming more comfortable with it and starting to really like the sound of it. “Well that’s a relief,” he says, taking a step closer to you, placing his hands on your waist. “Why?” you ask, confused. “Because,” he says, pressing his hips into yours, making you breathe in sharply, “Then I couldn’t do this.” He lowers his head, gently brushing his lips against yours. The kisses are soft at first, the both of you shaking from your nerves. Cupping your face with his hand, he deepens the kiss. Pushing your hips into his, you both moan softly at the friction.

“Mmm,” You moan, breaking the kiss. “What’s wrong?” Kevin asks you, frowning. “I, I can’t do this here…Mickey is watching…this is the House of Mouse!” you hiss. Kevin looks at you amused for a moment. “Come with me,” he kisses your cheek and grabs your hand, dragging you down the hallway. “Kevin?” you ask, “Where are you taking me?” He doesn’t answer you. Pulling you swiftly along and nodding his head at passerbys, he stops in front of a door. “The Janitor’s closet?” you raise your eyebrow. “Get in,” he smiles, turning the knob and pushing you playfully through the door.

Not a second after the door clicks shut, he has you against the back shelve, his mouth on yours, kissing you passionately. Running his tongue along your bottom lip, he begs for an entrance, one which you happily oblige. Your tongues intertwine, dancing between your mouth and his. Once again he pushes his hips into yours, sending a chill up your spine and knocking some rolls of toilet paper down on your heads. “Sorry,” he mumbles against your lips. “Mmm,” you shrug it off, playing with the hem of his shirt. Running your hands up and over his torso, his muscles twitch at the feel of your hands. Bringing your hands back down, you grab his shirt, eager for him to be rid of it. “Uh uh,” he stops you, “Ladies first.”

You eye him while he playfully runs a finger over your naval, flicking your belly button ring. Grabbing the hem of your shirt, you hold your arms above your head as he skillfully tugs it off in one swipe. Hooking your finger into the rim of his jeans, you pull him into you, your bare skin becoming warmed by his hot touch. His lips let go of your mouth, moving onto your neck, attacking that hollow area right above your collarbone. You throw your head back in pleasure as his tongue swirls around that hickey he is making. Blowing on the wet skin before moving down, he gives you goosebumps; your heart beats faster with anticipation.

Kissing the top of your chest and soon the beginning of the valley between your breasts, he stops when he reaches fabric. Looking up to you for approval, you nod, giving him the okay. Reaching behind your back, he skillfully unhooks your bra with one hand, shrugging playfully when you raise an eyebrow. “I thought you were a virgin,” you tease him. “I’m pretty sure me unhooking a girl’s bra isn’t what is keeping me a virgin,” he replies smartly. “Then what is?” you raise your eyebrow. “Well…this was,” he holds up his ring finger. “Was?” you question him. “Yep,” he nods, finishing the removal of your bra. Taking a moment to view your bare upper half, he swallows before bringing his lips to your once again.

You feel his hardness grow against you and you sigh in anticipation…was this really going to happen? Reaching for the zipper, he undoes your jean skirt, letting it fall to your ankles and watching you kick it off. Only one more item of clothing remains. Dropping down to his knees, Kevin smiles devilishly up at you, kissing your hip bone. “Kevin,” you breathe, as he dips a finger into the elastic of your underwear, “W-what are you doing?” Hooking a finger in the other side, he smirks as he tugs your panties gently down, helping you step out of them.

Barely giving you a moment to register what’s going on, he sets his mouth on your swollen nub, sucking on in it gently, earning a moan to escape for your lips. Taking one of your legs, he drapes it over his shoulder, allowing him deeper access. “Kevin,” you sigh, “N-not fair….you….ohhhhh.” You moan as he slips a finger into your slick entrance, your nerves endings on fire. Adding another finger into your tight core, the slickness the only way he can enter, he pumps slowly, curling his fingers inside you. You moan loudly; the feeling is unbelievable. “Oh...m-my God…K-Kevin,” you whimper as his tongue flicks on that your sensitive spot.

Suddenly and without provocation, Kevin pulls out his fingers, licking off your juices. You eye him oddly for a moment as he lays a gentle kiss on your swollen nub before getting to his feet again and wrapping his arms around you waist. “Do you trust me?” he asks you seriously, looking straight into your eyes. You nod your head, completely entranced by his stare, “I do.” “And you know I would never hurt you like he did, ever?” he asks again. “I know,” you tell him. “Then trust me now okay?” he asks you nervously, waiting for your response. You nod slowly, wondering where he is going with this. Kissing you lightly on the lips for a moment, he breaks away, taking a few steps backwards and locking the door.

You wonder why he didn’t lock the door in the first place but decide not to mention it; it wasn’t worth killing the moment. Taking a towel from one of the shelves, he lays it out on the floor before walking over to you. Taking you in his arms, he kisses you passionately, bringing you slowly down to the ground and laying you carefully onto the towel. You watch as he sits back on his knee, finally removing the shirt you tried to earlier. Reaching for his belt, you assist him, dying to make this process go faster. Successfully undoing his jeans, you watch as he slides them down, his hardness now standing fully erect underneath the loose fabric of his boxers. You swallow when his pants are fully off and he reaches for his boxers. “Kevin,” you sigh involuntarily, not able to control yourself any longer.

“If you’re not ready….I won’t,” he reassures you, eyeing you for approval. “No…I-I’m ready,” you tell him, barely able to get any words out. Smiling sweetly at you, he removes his boxers, his last item of clothing. Lying down atop you, he raises himself lightly, staring into your beautiful eyes for a moment before bringing his lips down to yours. You feel his hand on your thigh, spreading your legs wide for you. It was as is your mind forgot how to control your body, all you can think of is him. Placing an arm on either side of your head, you can feel his tip at your entrance, your juices crying out to be met.

Leaning down and kissing you gently, you inhale sharply as he enters you slowly, pushing himself into you fully. Waiting a moment for your body to adjust, he begins a slow, steady rhythm. “Ohh….yea,” you moan, the feeling indescribable, “That feels s-so…good.” Biting his lip, Kevin grinds his hips against yours as he pulls out almost fully before slamming into you deeply. “OH,” you yelp at his sudden action. “Please,” you whimper as he regains his slow pace, “Go…go…ohhh…faster.” Obliging you, he quickens his pace, circling his hips around yours.

Circling your hips against his, you earn a loud moan from him as the friction sends him over the edge. Beads of sweat are forming are his brow, his curls now sticking to his damp forehead. “Ohhh….Kevin,” you cry. “M-Michelle,” he whimpers your name, “This feels…ahh…this feels...soo…sooo good.” Sliding in and out of you with ease, he pumps even faster, your hips continuing to circle around his. “Tell me,” he begins; his breath heavy and uneven. “Telll me…he…he never made you feel like this,” he finishes his sentence with great effort. “I…w-what?” you question him, unable to process your thoughts. “Tell me,” he says again, pulling out and forcefully slamming into you, making you scream out. “H-He didn’t….only..ohhhhhh….only you,” you answer, trying to speak.

“Harder,” you beg him as you feel him throbbing inside you, your hands gripping his slick waist. Quickening his pace and pushing into your harder and harder each time, he groans deeply, feeling a tingle in the base of his spine. “Oh God,” he cries, “S-Soon.” “N..not yet,” you tell him, earning a whimper from him. Desperate, he pulls back, taking one of your legs and pinning it wider. “OH….there,” you moan as he hits that spot deep inside you that sends shivers shooting up your spine, your nerves completely on fire. “Thereee,” you cry again, feeling you body beginning to tense around him, “Ohhhh…Kevinnnn.”

Slowing his pace and thrusting into you deep and hard, he feels your body convulse around him as you ride out your climax. Feeling you come to your end, he is unable to hold it any longer. With one last thrust, he moans loudly, releasing inside of you, his hips numbly pulsing in and of you a few more times. Kevin collapses atop you, unable to hold himself any longer. Resting his damp head on your chest, you wrap your arms around him, playing with his curls as you both struggle to catch your breaths.

“That….that,” you begin, searching for words. “That was amazing,” Kevin finishes your sentence. You nod, agreeing with him. Laying there for a few more minutes, Kevin finally pushes himself off of you, grabbing your underwear and helping your legs into them. Quickly redressing, Kevin helps you off the floor, throwing the towel back onto the shelf. “You okay?” he smiles, as you walk awkwardly with him towards the door, your hips still recovering. “I…I think so,” you answer honestly, your mind still processing the event. “Just…sit by me in the room k?” he tells you, “I’ll take care of you.” Smiling, you lean up and kiss him fully before opening the door.

“Kevin?” you ask him as you near the door to the recording studio. “Yea?” he looks down at you. “…Can we do that again?” you ask, your cheeks turning red. “Yea…just not right now,” he chuckles, “Remember…Mickey is watching.”