#gotta ask: which card did you get

[cinematicnomad]

i think you're very kind :) i got a holiday letter from you and it genuinely made my day! it's up in display in my room and reminds me of you<3

oh yey!! so glad the card reached you and that it brought you even the smallest bit of joy 😊 i've been sending out holiday cards for over 10 years now and i find a lot of happiness out of picking and sending them. thanks so much for this lovely message!!

[amaranthineghost]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐟 ꒱ my american lover ( logan sargeant. )

logan sargeant x aussie!reader

in which a series of instagram posts causes the internet to think you're oscar's girlfriend

authors note: motivation these days is like trying to find water in a desert TvT doesn't help that this deleted the first time i tried to post it

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri and 4,028 others

ynusername life lately

view all 302 comments

user HELP THE OSCAR PICTURE?

user this was not on my 2024 bingo card

⤷ user it was not on mine either what 😭😭😭

user since when does yn know about oscar piastri?

⤷ user and since when was he in her likes???

oscarpiastri where did you even get that photo 🥲

⤷ ynusername mumma piastri has a soft spot for me 😊

⤷ oscarpiastri ah

user omg she knows oscar's mom too

user is this a soft launch???

⤷ user using oscar's photos from when he was a kid? i sure hope not 😭

⤷ user okay yeah, that'd be a little bit awkward, but why else would she post a picture of him in her photo dump

user twitter is gonna go crazy

⤷ user i can already see the threads

user does no one know that they're friends?

⤷ user i thought this was common knowledge atp because he has appeared in her previous posts...

⤷ user right, there's photos of them as kids karting together

user ynscar 🙏

⤷ user i found my people

user the ynscar rumors starting up again is wild

⤷ user well they never denied anything

⤷ user ...

⤷ user are you on something?

ynusername

liked by lilymhe and 1,937 others

ynusername what a view (the city, not oscar)

view all 103 comments

user stop, she's so pretty...and he's there

lilymhe we need to hang out and take pictures! the boys will find something to entertain themselves 😘

⤷ ynusername asap! 🙏🏻 they see each other every day, whats another?

⤷ lilymhe exactly! 😊

⤷ alex_albon what am i being signed up for?

user oh my god, lily and yn planning a hangout with their boyfriends? so its confirmed?

⤷ user AND THEY SEE EACH OTHER EVERY DAY??? GOTTA BE!!!

oscarpiastri is this just your new thing to post random photos of me?

⤷ ynusername yeah pretty much

⤷ oscarpiastri great thanks

⤷ ynusername anytime 🙂‍↕️

user of all the photos of oscar she could've chosen, she used this one

⤷ oscarpiastri right

⤷ user OMG OSCAR ILY!!!

user am i the only one who doesn't believe the ynscar rumors?

⤷ user you aren't because it just doesn't make sense

⤷ user right like just because she started putting memes of him in her posts doesn't mean they are outright dating

logansargeant the view looks great!

⤷ ynusername its so gorjos! (you're not talking about oscar, right?)

⤷ logansargeant gorgeous, babe, and no, of course not (yeah, i might be)

⤷ ynusername (oscar isn't the view here!)

⤷ logansargeant (says who) (and why are we talking in parentheses)

⤷ ynusername (i don't know) (why are you talking in parentheses?)

⤷ logansargeant (i don't know, that's why i asked you)

⤷ ynusername (well i don't know either)

⤷ logansargeant (you've said)

⤷ user (what's going on?) (why did he call her babe???)

⤷ user (why are logan and yn talking?) (not on my 2024 bingo card)

⤷ user (well they both know oscar)

⤷ user (but he called her babe??)

user help all the replies to their comments being in parentheses as well 😭😭😭

user am i the only one who prefers yngan to ynscar

⤷ user nope!

⤷ user i love them so much, but it's probably unlikely and we don't see much interaction from them

ynusername

liked by oscarpiastri and 3,408 others

ynusername pov you're max verstappen at miami and you look in your mirrors

view all 231 comments

user oh my god

user im speechless

user the soft launch with the meme of oscar was not on my list of things happening this season 😭

bsfusername you know you're never beating the rumors

⤷ ynusername sadly 😓😓😓

⤷ bsfusername okay but when was this tho

⤷ ynusername wdym 😋

⤷ bsfusername don't gaslight me

⤷ ynusername what's gaslighting???

⤷ bsfusername bitch.

⤷ user rumors? such as the ynscar rumors?

user logan in the likes?

⤷ user hes BEEN in the likes for a hot sc, you just couldn't see him lurking

oscarpiastri you're not coming to the next race

⤷ ynusername WHY NOT??? IM YOUR BIGGEST SUPPORT 🙏🏻

⤷ oscarpiastri support your boyfriend

❤️ by author + logansargeant

⤷ ynusername SHHHH!!!

user wait so oscar isn't her boyfriend?

user anyone see logan in the likes???

⤷ user gotta support the homie's girlfriend

⤷ user gotta

⤷ user they aren't dating 😭

user okay, but do we know FOR SURE oscar and yn are dating? they just seem like really close friends...?

⤷ user SOMEONE GETS IT

user real ones know that oscar and yn are childhood friends

ynusername has posted a story!

[caption: guys look at my uber driver 😢]

view all story replies

user PLEASE RESPOND TO THE RUMORS

user 1. you're dating oscar a. true b. false

user he doesn't even have the steering wheel 😭

ynusername 🤫

user oh my god im gonna faint, tell oscar and logan i love them

oscarpiastri you had the wheel

ynusername stupid, american cars amiright 🤣

oscarpiastri sure

ynusername okay no need for the attitude mr. im a formula 1 driver and am too cool for my BEST FRIEND IN THE ENTIRE WORLD!

oscarpiastri go bother your BOYFRIEND

ynusername okay

ynusername ...

ynusername you're supposed to feel bad

oscarpiastri 😐😑😐

ynusername

liked logansargeant and 7,078 others

ynusername my american boy <3

view all 227 comments

user the random middle of the day hard launch

⤷ user but im not complaining

logansargeant my kangaroo <3

⤷ ynusername EXCUSE ME???

⤷ logansargeant 😊

⤷ ynusername okay american eagle

oscarpiastri finally putting an end to the rumours i see

⤷ ynusername well you weren't going to do it so someone had to

⤷ oscarpiastri i thought it was common knowledge that i had a girlfriend that wasn't you

⤷ ynusername osc...im gonna hold your hand when i tell you this

⤷ oscarpiastri dont touch me

user the sass from oscar 😭😭

⤷ user i know right😭🫣

logansargeant

liked by ynusername and 143,203 others

logansargeant i love my aussie side

view all 1,047 comments

user ON MY CELLULAR DEVICE???

oscarpiastri i thought i was your aussie side mate

⤷ logansargeant oh no, you are dw

⤷ ynusername probably why he put a picture of oscar in the hard launch

⤷ logansargeant you put one in the soft launch

⤷ ynusername fair point

user i was not expecting this (i was indeed expecting it)

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @sapphiccloud @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @namgification @casperlikej @darleneslane @soamericn @decafmickey @tellybearryyyy @geniusalpaca @mel164 @littlegrapejuice @rylieverstappen-sargent @ahnneyong @ln4smiamitrophy @jiggly-puff-12 @jamieebuolos @ireadthensuetheauthors @jaasworld

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

[actiniumwrites]

if you're still doing requests: maybe one of the genshin guys finding out you use their card in tcg? scenario or headcanons is fine, and i have no preference for who you want to write! (i will say i'm fixated in the fontanians rn though)

the perfect pair

synopsis: their reaction to finding out you use their card in tcg

characters: tighnari, cyno, neuvillette, lyney, and wriothesely x gn!reader (separately)

warnings: nothing besides fluff and cyno being an actual maniac for tcg (he’s probably a little ooc but i think it’s funny)

notes: i’m ngl i totally forgot about tcg 😭 i played it SO much when it came out and then barely touched it unless it was for the primos. i gotta finish those achievements still 💀 also i know not every one of these characters has a tcg card but we can just pretend :) thank you for the request!

part two

Tighnari:

Because he doesn’t play tcg very often — at least not as much as Cyno does — he doesn’t find out right away

When he does, it happens at a casual dinner between you, him, and all your friends after Collei asks to play so she can try out some of her new cards

Cyno enthusiastically agrees and you all set up after you finish eating which is when Alhaitham, whose eyes never miss anything, spots a suspiciously similarly looking guy on one of your three player cards

“You seriously have your boyfriend as one of your cards?” he’ll ask with a disbelieving smile, as if he can’t comprehend why you’d have it

You smile and lift it up, proudly nodding as you list off the card’s strengths and the nice backing it came with. You don’t fail the mention the bonus that it comes with your boyfriend’s face on it

Tighnari feels his cheeks warm in slight embarrassment as he turns away in his chair. Even so, he can’t help but find it really cute that you have his card

He even tells his friends to shut up and that they’re just jealous they don’t have his card and that they wish their significant others had them as cards

It actually shuts some of them up, shockingly

Meanwhile, Cyno is in utter disbelief that such a card exists and will try to buy it off of you so he can complete his collection (you don’t let him have it though)

Cyno:

Ah the king of tcg himself

He has the most dramatic reaction for sure. Not even in the sense that he’s embarrassed, or teasing, or whatnot. He’s just straight up shocked

Slams his hands down on the table and his jaw drops as he stands up. You giggle on the other side of the table at his reaction, watching him desperately try to find words

“Where did you even get that?!”

You swear you only see him this expressive when it comes to tcg

“I don’t know, I just found it at a local store when I was passing by,” you shrug carelessly, as if you aren’t going to completely destroy him with his own card in about five minutes

After he gets over the initial awe of seeing himself in his favorite game in the entire world, he’s actually very internally excited, although you don’t get to see that side

He thinks it’s cool that you like using his card and is honored that you’d even choose it in the first place, especially with only three slots (he’s also just happy he’s a main card and not a buff lmao)

And when you do destroy him, he slides you a pen and paper and politely demands you give him the name of the seller so he can track them down tomorrow

Neuvillette:

He doesn’t even play the game so initially, he’s extremely confused why you have a playing card with his face on it

“Fascinating. I did not know they made such games. Is my card good for playing?” He’s genuinely intrigued by it and you find it rather endearing

Because he doesn’t understand it though, he doesn’t necessarily feel any certain way about it. He’s too caught up in the game to realize what it means for you to be using his card

“Yeah, it’s pretty powerful, but it’s representative of real life so that’s expected given your position.”

At that, he feels very flattered. His cheeks will warm a bit, casting a light blush over his features when you speak so proudly of him

He’ll even ask if you have a card of your own hoping to take a bit of the attention off him when he begins to feel more excited about it

You shake your head no and explain that it’s unlikely given people don’t know enough about you to make a full card of you or to sell it

Will later get one made for you without you knowing, only one singular copy worth a priceless amount just so you could have one to match him too <3

Lyney:

Smug little shit

You’re playing with him and his siblings after he invited you over for a date. Lynette and Freminet were bored so you both offered to play a game, to which tcg was suggested by Freminet

You’d played only a few times with them before, which is why you didn’t realize what was such a big deal when you pulled out a card with your boyfriend on it, entirely forgetting it was new and you hadn’t used it with them yet

“Is that…is that Lyney?” Lynette asks, stifling a laugh as she inspects the card. Freminet leans a little closer too in order to get a better look.

And it indeed is, Lyney confirms for himself

“Woah no way, I didn’t know they made this,” he smiles at it, picking it up and spinning it in his hand before smirking at you, “I knew you couldn’t resist this handsome face, even on a playing card.”

You smack his arm faster than Lynette can and snatch it back out of his hand. Lyney pouts and slouches down into his seat as his siblings inquire as to where you got it

Lyney can’t stop staring at you as you tell them, his chest beating faster and faster as you embarrassedly ramble on about why you got it in the first place and how you thought it was cute like a little keepsake

Even though you’d been dating for some quite some time, you both managed to keep surprising one another and falling in love all over again, even if it was over silly things like tcg cards

Lynette sighs as she notices the lovestruck look in her brother’s eyes, “He’s doomed.”

Wriothesley:

He’s weirdly calm about the whole thing. Not like he’d be over dramatic or anything, but I don’t think he’d be as teasing or shocked by it like the others or like some may assume

Wriothesley thinks it’s really cool when he finds it in your collection one day after you left your card case in his office by accident, a few cards slid out with his face popping out on one tucked away in the middle

He’ll examine it before a gentle smile pulls at his lips at the thought of you using it to play against others

He’s almost proud, in a way

When you walk into his office a ten minutes later, realizing you had left your cards and a few other of your things on his desk, you stumble upon him looking at it

“Oh, uh you weren’t supposed to see that yet,” you say awkwardly as you pause in your step and fiddle with your hands, embarrassed he had found it. It was a somewhat new card and you actually wanted to show it to him later

But Wriothesley doesn’t care. Hell, if he had known there was a card out there with him on it, he would’ve bought it for you a long time ago

He’ll just kiss you. A nice, sweet, and to the point kiss as he slides the card back in your hand before pulling away and staring down at you, “You’re cute.”

[yuvany]

TAKING CARE OF THE YOUNGER MEMBERS

" it feels the best when you' re right next to me "

HYUNG LINE x fem!reader . . . CONTENT LIST : fluff + domestic acts + est relationship + skinship . . WORD COUNT : 545 & & CHECK BOX !!

( reblogs + feedback always appreciated !! )

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

It was cold, and Heeseung was walking beside you in front of the rest, enjoying the view of frost coating the the grass, but most importantly to be with you. The weather was cold enough to blow smoke into the air, and Heeseung made sure that you were warm and cosy. As well as that, he'd turn around and see if anyone else was freezing. He catches Jake not wearing his scarf properly and says, "Fix your scarf man, you can't become sick now. There's no one to impress in this weather either" He tightens it and pats his shoulder. "I mean, you did this when you liked y/n." Jake says, exposing Heeseung and he chuckles awkwardly and return to you. "You really also gotta keep yourself warm, honey." You say as you intertwine your fingers with his.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

He has the nurturing side to him. Let's you be in the kitchen with him when the others aren't. You giggle to yourself, knowing that you have someone as perfect as Jay with you. "You guys aren't allowed in here." Jay holds his palm out for Jake and he sigh. "Why is y/n in there then?" he groans. "She's differen't from you animals, go to the livingroom or something." Jay shoos them away. "So I'm special?" You ask, and he nods,"Very." kissing you softly on the forehead. You and him cook together in the kitchen, the new aroma of the food filling the building. "Sweetie, could you tell the rest that they can finally come here?" He asked, pulling the oven mitts off his hands. "of course," you say and run off, leaving him smiling.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

Sees the others playing card games, and asks if he can join, in which they reply yes excitedly. "babe, come play with me." He says, patting the place on the mat beside him. You shake your head at first, but then he pleads with you and you give in, taking a seat beside him. "What are we playing?" You ask, and they answer with a game you've never heard of. You, unfortunately don't know the rules, and poke Jake on the shoulder. "Hmm?" He asks, and you admit that you don't know the rules. "No worries, we can play together." He pulls you onto his lap and rests his chin in your neck as he looks at his cards. "jake hyung, you're so weird." Riki says with a giggle and this results in him getting a card thrown at him.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡

You were in the practice studio, supporting the seven while they trained with their coach, and you helped them record the dances that they used to monitor their moves. While they did that, you noticed how tired and exhausted they looked, sweat dripping down their foreheads. You cringed at this, knowing that you don't like the feeling of sweat sticking to your skin, so you offer to bring them all some snacks and water bottles while they were on break. The youngest burst out in cheers and thanked you over and over for your kindness. "Are you sure? I can follow along?" Sunghoon asks, chasing after you and stopping you by the door. "I'm sure. Please take a break from your hard work, babe." You take a small towel and wipe his face with it before rubbing your nose with his.

TAGLIST : @dollyhoon @itjengirl @saeivra @orimuraa

[the-tarot-witch22]

The Next 3 Months - Pick a pile

Pile 1/ Pile 2/ Pile 3

My Paid Readings | My insta

Liked my blog or readings? Tip me!

Hello everyone ! This is my another pick a pile or pac reading so please be kind and leave comment or reblog, and let me know if it resonated with you!

Note : This is a general reading or collective reading. It may or may not resonate with you. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't. And it's totally okay if our energies aren't aligned!

How to pick : Take a deep breath and choose a pile which you feel most connected to! You can choose more than one pile, it just means both pile have messages for you!

I worked really hard on this pile please show some love by leaving comments, likes and reblogs!

Pile 1:

(The cards I got for you - the hermit, knight of cups, 3 of wands, 2 of wands, the hierophant, strength)

Okay so the very first thing i feel is your next 3 months will be about you only, your self love - self journey, you will be in your own comfort zone or cocoon, like no matter where you are but you will be the priority like your own self, i also feel your self esteem will have a massive glow up, I feel you will be reflecting on your self and on your past too, making better choices for your self, i also heard "solitude", so i feel these next three months will be full of that, you will be going on self introspection journey , figuring out who you truly making goals, preparing for important things in your life, I also feel there would be a new person coming in your life, a romantic interest or a good friend you might meet, and if not i feel there will be self - love in your life, you taking care of yourself, i also heard "workshops and courses" so you might be taking one too improve your skills, this pile might be very creative to begin with, "cancer moon/ Pisces sun/rising or any fire sign is also very prominent here", with Virgo and Capricorn energy! I also feel some of you would be putting yourself out there to meet someone going on dates (not everyone), i also feel travelling is quite prominent here, so i feel you might plan to travel somewhere or make plans to do so in next year, i also feel it might be a aboard trip, far from where you actually are, i also see you focusing more on your studies, to get better grades, if you are working i see your working getting less hectic, you might also meet someone while you are travelling, you might also be taking in charge of your own life, working hard to achieve things, i also feel you would be more spiritually and religiously aligned, for some of you , you guys could also begin to be brave, stand up for yourself, i feel there might some family problems around you, i feel that would also get better, i also feel this pile could have parents that are too strict, or just you don't get along with them so i feel you would stand up for yourself, or it would get better, at least better than before, i also feel the financial situation will be better for you, "i heard - do what you gotta do leave the rest to universe", there might be people in this group who gets anxious or just doesn't trust others easily, and scared or don't feel like asking for help, but i believe in you! TRUST ME things will get better from now on, even the blocked paths will open, just keep your intentions pure!

Angel cards - compromise - There might be some situations that might need your attention and you would have to come to agreement to keep the peace.

romance- GUYS what did i say, i feel there might be a romantic interest coming for some of you!, if not i feel its talking about self love and worth! and if you already have someone you will get more closer than before!

ask your angels - If you are in doubt just trust your angels and guides, they will show you the way!

Ask for help from others - As i said this pile might not like to ask for help and they try to bottle up, don't do that, your loved ones are there , share your feelings with them and your emotions, you don't have to bear the burden alone!

be assertive - as i said there will be more confidence in yourself and your worth!

Pile 2:

(The card I got for you - 3 of cups, the lovers, the world, 7 of swords, the magician and the hermit)

Okay so the very first thing i feel and heard was "love" and "celebration", I also feel someone around you might get married, in the next three months i feel there could be a party or a celebration even a small one, a birthday celebration perhaps, or you score good marks in your exams, there might also a party at your workplace, these 3 months will also help you grow in your self, there might be a small gathering or reunion in your family, you might not like it but i feel you would have to be there because of your parents/ or elders in your home, this group giving me a vibe of introvert individuals, who value their personal time and space a lot! I also feel someone could invite you to hangout!, there might be some major decisions you would have to take in these next 3 months, you will be confused yes, or have choosing one right decision for you, there could also be you might meet a potential romantic partner, most probably a soulmate, they could be platonic or romantic, i also feel the angels and universe will be on your side, there might be some transformations or awakenings you would have to go through in order to become a better version for yourself, i also heard "grow through what you go through", don't just get stuck in past whatever happens, happens, the main thing is you take a valuable lesson from it, i feel you might also develop a crush on someone in the next 3 months, I also feel someone around will help you in certain things and part of your life, you will feel complete with yourself, like more spiritually connected and free, i also feel you will break the norms or rule or just get out of your comfort zone , i feel these next 3 months will help you realize many things about yourself, i also heard "change", you might be trying or try to change your life completely by making good decisions, i also feel you will uncover the facade someone close to you like you will know they were trying to gaslight you, it could be anyone, so be careful of people and their intentions, there might be some lies involved like small ones, a mischievous intention towards you, so again be careful of that someone, it could be a friend, a family member, you might also be uncovering and improving your skills! I also feel your manifestations will come true and so will your wishes!

Angel cards -

Be assertive - Be confident in yourself and your abilities.

no need to worry - This group might overthink or worry a lot, so this is a sign for you to leave everything to universe and just keep doing , what you do!

let go - Let go of past or things that hold you back break free from them!

Communicate Clearly - Don't hesitate to speak your truth! And if something doesn't sit right with you , speak up, don't people please~

Pile 3:

(The cards I got for you - the moon, 5 of swords, knight of pentacles, 8 of wands, 8 of pentacles, and king of wands, the lovers)

Okay so the very first thing i feel for you pile 3 is, "let your gut or intuition guide you towards the right path", don't second guess your path that you choose, with time it will be all revealed, you already know what to do in your life, I also feel there are things in your life that holds you back from your full potential, but you need to figure it out on your own and let it go, and do things that actually matters and makes you happy, i also feel there will be some unexpected surprises for your from universe, like you actually didn't expect it! there will be some major transformation or job change in your life, if you don't have a job i feel you would be busy in studies and work, I also feel there will be some conflicts in your workplace or family or with your siblings, but i se you winning, or standing up for yourself, from this group i am getting earth and fire sign energy with Gemini sun/rising, I also feel there might be some inner conflicts ongoing in your life, like you doubting yourself and your abilities, I also feel there will be major changes in your love life! I feel this group might be preparing for higher studies and you will get succeed in it, I also heard "successful", so these 3 months will play a important role in your career and your studies, there might be someone soon coming into your life and they are definitely very rich! I also feel there would be quick movement all the things will go smoothly , I also feel you will travel this or next year , could be a vacation or a work trip, that you will be taking, i also heard "religious place" so you might start to believe in religion or spirituality related things, you will be working very hard and finish your ongoing projects! I also feel these next 3 months you will goals driven, and determined to make your life a bit better through your career, "i also heard take it easy, don't take too much pressure! I also feel you will be reaping the rewards soon! You will be more confident and focused on your goals, you will also embrace your masculine side a lot! But i also see you overworked and overwhelmed so again, be careful not to give yourself mental pressure!

Angel Cards -

The situation will improve - If you are not feeling good at the moment or have problems surrounded i see it gets better!

big happy changes - As i said in the reading, There will be a surprise for you in next 3 months! this is a confirmation!

Forgiveness - I also feel this group hasn't forgiven themselves for past for any reason, i wanna say take your time, and let go of those thing which are holding you back, you will be okay!

Thank you for stopping by! Take care and remember you are loved <3

[always-just-red]

Heya! Rafayel with a reader who's slightly afraid of deep water because she doesn't know how to swim? Fluff please!

Thanks for the request! Hoping this is the perfect balance of heartfelt moments and utter silliness. It's Raf, after all! Gotta have fun with it! ❤

Practice Makes Perfect

Rafayel x Reader 🎨

Summary: "I'll teach you how to swim!" he said. "It'll be fun!" he said. Let's be honest: the warning signs were there from the very start.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings/Additional tags: gn!reader, established relationship, one instance of swearing, a mild panic attack, humour, Raf bullies you ('out of love!!'— his words, not mine 🙃)

| Word count: 2.3k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Rafayel, can you stop that? Please?”

You watch as Rafayel bobs around in the water in front of you. “Swimming?” he asks, pushing slick hair back from his forehead with a lazy smile. “Nah. I’d drown.”

“No, I—” you suck in a sharp breath to keep yourself from wasting it. He knows exactly what you meant. He knows what he’s doing, too: making everything look effortless when you can’t even get out of the stupid boat.

It tips you a little closer towards the ocean, as if responding to your criticisms. You’re done with this. Done with him. Swimming lessons with Rafayel had seemed such a promising idea a few months ago, but now? You’re thinking it would have been better to go it alone. If you’d have drowned, you’d have at least drowned in peace.

He calls his teaching style ‘motivational’, which is to say he spends every lesson trying to motivate you to lunge at him, regardless of your personal safety. It was funny at the local pool. It’s less funny here, on a rickety boat in a deserted bay, where the only witnesses to your demise would be a setting sun and an insufferably smug Lemurian.

You glance up, seeking the familiar half-oceans of his eyes. They’re taunting you to the point of distraction: heating the blood in your veins that had just been running cold. Look at me, they gloat, alive with shimmering reflections, you’re mad at me, remember? 

And they have a point. You are. “Stop showing off.”

“Can’t help it.” Dark water laps at the pale of his collarbone. “It’s just so easy.”

“Says the actual mermaid.”

“Merman!”

“Oh whatever!”

He pouts. Then he strokes his chin thoughtfully. “I was worried about this,” he muses, as if he has actually masterminded a teaching plan, and hasn’t just been winging it from the start. He clicks his fingers, signalling a lightbulb moment. “Lucky for you, your super duper swimming teacher came prepared. Check my bag!”

He sinks until he’s peering out from the water, the lower half of his face submerged so you can’t see his smile. You can, though; it’s obvious. You roll your eyes and take the bait because it’s better than sitting here questioning your life decisions and your own mortality. Your hands rifle through his bag until they stumble upon something unusual. Smooth. Plastic. Is this what he meant?

You pull the package out into the evening light, narrowing your eyes.

Inflatable arm bands. Brand new. A toddler beams at you from their cover, seemingly thrilled by its extra buoyancy, and its parents are watching on with unbridled pride. You tilt your head as you read: suitable for ages 2-5! “Not funny, Raf. Not funny at all.”

“What d’you mean?” You flash the photo at him, tapping the toddler’s face. “Yeah? What about it?”

“These are for kids! You’re making fun of me now? Really?”

“No…” His hand leaves the water to scratch at the back of his head. “I thought that was a suggestion? It was kinda confusing, actually. You humans have such weird stuff to help you swim.”

“Oh don’t you dare play the Lemurian card right now!” you seethe, in the middle of retrieving an arm band from the packaging. “You knew! I know you did.”

Set on making your point, you blow air into the arm band’s nozzle. It’s so infuriatingly small; it takes all of three breaths to fill it. “I mean, look at it!” you exclaim, holding it out to him.

He barely keeps his act together. “I think it’s, like… stretchy, yeah?” His bottom lip is caught between his teeth: he’s biting back laughter. “Try it on, maybe it’ll—”

Smack! The arm band hits the water in front of him, and he blinks down at it, shocked.

“Wooooow,” he enthuses sarcastically, “nice throw! I bet the Wanderers just run for the hills when they see you comin—”

Thwack! Another half-inflated arm band strikes his face, and he reels backwards.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“You’re so full of it, Rafayel!” you can’t help leaning towards him, and the rowboat lurches. You clutch at the side of it, but you’ve had enough. “Ugh. Screw it.”

Your adrenaline is lurching too, and you make the most of the momentum: taking a deep breath and swinging your legs over the boat’s side. The chill of the ocean steals that breath away as you lower yourself into it. You’re going slowly, so slowly, your fingers still latched to the boat. But this is… something. You’re in the water. Oh gods you’re in the water. Don’t think about it. Don’t.

“Raf…” you squeak, because how can you not think about it when it’s cold and around your neck?

“I’m here,” he reassures from behind you, and he’s not close, but he’s close enough.

You look at him over your shoulder, gently tugging at the boat until you’re afforded a better view. He chuckles as he flicks the offending arm bands back into it: a calculated arc that sprinkles saltwater over your head. You wince, but you don’t mind.

“You just gonna… hang out there, then?” Rafayel enquires as you wipe a stray droplet from your eye.

“Yep.”

“Nice,” he grins, and it’s weirdly sincere. “Kinda wish you were over here, though.”

“Yeah?” You don’t move.

“I miss you.”

“Aww.”

You’re still not moving, but it doesn’t crush the embers of amusement that glow within his eyes. He’s thinking up ways to drive you crazy again, you just know it. “You could totally make it over here if you wanted,” he says flippantly. “It’s just swimming. If jellyfishes can do it, you definitely can.”

What? What? “They’re sea creatures!”

“Yeah, but they’re soooo stupid.” He taps his head. “No brains, y’know?”

You turn to the boat, pulling yourself impossibly closer to it. “Raf, c’mere,” you beckon, reaching back to him— grabbing at air.

“Why?” He draws nearer.

“So I can hit you.”

You swing a hand at him, but he dodges it, laughing. “If you wanna hit me, you have to reach me.”

There’s movement in the corner of your eye, so you twist to see it. His thumbs and forefingers have met as a square; he’s making a viewfinder. “What are you doing?” you speak from inside the frame.

“Making sure I remember this. I think I’ll paint it.” A corner of his lips lifts as he reveals a prospective title: “Cutie braves shark-infested waters.”

“Sharks?!”

“Who said anything about sharks?”

He’s messing with you— you know he’s messing with you— but you hide your face against your arms, all the same. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to stifle your senses and your spiralling thoughts. You’re feeling everything too keenly: the water licking at your throat, the darkness beneath you, around you, waiting to pull you under and fill your mouth.

You never feel further from Rafayel than when you remember he calls that darkness home.

“Rafayel?” you call out, because you need him to tell you you’re being ridiculous. You need him to laugh with you, at you— you don’t care so long as you can hear it.

The only sound is water, and it’s cold and dispassionate.

“…Rafayel?” You glance behind you, and he isn’t there.

What do you do? What do you do? Your mind is in contest with your heart; they’re both trying to see who can race faster. You still can’t move. Shit. What can you do?

“Hey.” Rafayel’s voice makes you jump. He’s next to you all of a sudden, water streaming down from his hair and running over his shoulders. He rests an arm on the boat, too. “I’m here, ok? I’ve got you. Just breathe.”

Breathe? “Don’t do that!” you force out of aching lungs, and then your mouth is trying to catch up with the rest of you. “I thought something happened to you! What if something did happen to you? I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t help you. What if—”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” he cuts in. “Nothing’s gonna happen to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your eyes are watering and he’s so close, but it’s not enough. You reach out, pulling him, urging him to close the distance, and he leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. You can feel the heat of his breath and it’s deep, slow: one, two. One. Two. You hold him until you can match it, and almost everything’s still— the ocean, your mind— but not your heart.  

The waves break softly against the boat and they’re breathing with him, too.

“You ok?” Rafayel murmurs. His wet hair is clinging to your skin.

“Yeah,” you sigh.  

He pulls away and gives you a smile. “Wanna know what I’m thinking about?”

Always.  

“The claw machine,” he continues, because it was, as you suspected, a rhetorical question. “Remember that time you took, like, a hundred goes to get that one plushie? We were there for, what— an hour? Maybe two?”

You sniffle, and you’re just leaning on the boat, now— not gripping it. “That’s because it was a peach blossom birb, Raf. They’re super rare.” Another sniffle. “And the only reason I got it is because you kept buying more tokens.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Because I knew you’d get it eventually. Just like I know you’re gonna get this. We’ve got all the tokens in the world, yeah? So it’s just like before. One go at a time.”

His gaze is full of faith, and you want to be worthy of it. “One go at a time,” you repeat. “Thanks, Raf. Really.” You tilt towards him again, set on kissing his cheek, but he swerves away like it’s another attack.  

“Nuh-uh.” He propels himself backwards. “You wanna kiss me? You gotta meet me out here, cutie.”

And he’s so far already. “C’mon, Raf,” you whine.

“C’mon yourself! Look at me!” He runs a hand through his hair— beads of water sliding and sparkling across his skin. “I’m a total catch.”

“More like catch of the day when I get my hands on you.”

“Cute,” he quips, treading water. “You gonna come get me then, or what?”

You eye up the distance between you. You’re willing yourself to cross it; it won’t be good, it won’t be graceful, but you can do it, right? You just have to go for it. Three. Two. One… Go!

Nothing happens. Rafayel laughs quietly, and it’s warm— so passionate.  

“Here,” he says, meeting you in the middle. He holds out his hand.

You can’t trust the boat; it rocks beneath your touch and at the behest of every wave. It is just a thing, like you, at the mercy of something so much bigger than itself. Not Rafayel, though. He’s a part of all this, maybe even the heart of all this. The ocean will not betray him. It needs him to beat for it. To bleed.

Your hand grasps his and you let him guide you into the open water. You’re borrowing him. Stealing him, if only for a moment. He isn’t living for his ocean right now— he’s looking at you. Just you. There are canvases back in his studio, awash with cerulean waves and his love for Lemuria, but there are sketchbook pages, too: you, asleep on his couch. You, with a lily in your hair.

A few days from now, there’ll be a new one, etched eagerly in dark pencil. This.  

Rafayel smiles as you tread water with him. Your movements are clumsy, half-frantic, but you’re keeping yourself afloat. He gives you time to adjust, to find some semblance more of a natural rhythm, but your muscles ache and you’re getting tired, so he draws your arms around his neck.

“What d’you think?” he asks, because you’ve captured him. “Better than a beach bottom bird, right?”

“A peach blossom birb,” you giggle into his shoulder.

“Yeah, that too.”

…

The sky is full of stars, and the sun has sunk behind the wine-dark horizon.  

Rafayel rests his chin on his arms, staring down into the ocean from the edge of the boat, and he’s deep, deep below those waters too. You don’t have to see his eyes to know the faraway look they’re harbouring. There’s nostalgia for all the things he cannot show you. Grief. Rage. Regret.

He thinks you don’t see it, but you do. Especially on nights like this, when the azures of the waves turn black beneath the moon, and they could just as well be blood-red.

“Thanks for waiting for me, Rafayel.”

You’re not sure what compels you to say it, but he glances up at you, his gaze a brief storm of turquoise before settling to its usual amethyst. “Waiting for you?” he asks warily.

“To get all of this swimming stuff. I know it must seem silly to you.”

He relaxes, sitting up straight with a smirk. “Most of what you do seems silly to me. Not this, though. Change can be… scary sometimes.”

“Yeah.”

He slouches back down, but he’s on his side this time— still looking at you. “What made you decide you wanna swim, anyway?”

You mirror him, laying your head against the boat’s edge. “I don’t know. I guess—” waves are sloshing beneath you— “I guess it’s because the sea is a part of you. It’s in your paintings, your stories, and I’ve always felt… disconnected from it. Like it’s fiction— something I could only ever hear about second-hand. But I want to feel it for myself. To know it. All of it. All of you.”  

With a sigh, you give your hand to the ocean and draw mindless shapes in the water. Rafayel watches. You both know you’re only touching the surface.

He smiles, bittersweet. “Wanna go home?” he says.

Home. You pull your hand out of the water and smile back.

It’s been a long day. Yeah, you wanna go home.

[prettymonegasque]

not acceptable

Charles Leclerc x fem!driver! reader

Summary: Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do when your pretty boyfriend is a lil dumb

Warnings: Excessive cursing, Lando slander, grown men sharing a single brain cell, fluff?

Word Count: 1.3k

Based on my favourite scene in Schitt’s Creek

In all the two years you’ve been in Ferrari, the speculations and rumours of you dating Charles were non-stop. Neither of you paid much attention to it. You were both in happy relationships. However, that changed in the summer of ‘22 when you broke up with your partner. It wasn’t messy and you both agreed it was for the better. You focused on the rest of the season. 

Fast forward to the summer of ‘23, you and Charles were both single. You decided to give in to the speculations and give the relationship a real shot. You went on a few dates, each one being more fun than the previous one. Yet neither of you took the leap to become exclusive. You both liked each other but it wasn’t said out loud as much as you would’ve wanted to. So when Charles invited you to a game night with his friends, you thought it would be the one where he introduced you as his girlfriend. 

You knocked on his apartment door at 7 pm. You had brought a charcuterie board because you panicked and the first thing your mind thought was cheese. 

“Y/N! Come in.” Charles opened the door and hugged you. You tried your best to return while managing the charcuterie board. He laughed at your struggle, took the board from your hand and led you in. You spotted some familiar faces in the room. “Hey, guys. This is Y/N. My teammate as you know.” To risk being dramatic, the only description for what you felt was “death by a thousand cuts”. You still forced a smile and greeted everyone. You took a seat on the sofa next to Charles. “You brought a charcuterie board?” Pierre asked puzzled. “Dibs on gouda.” Yelled a familiar Brit.

**************

For the next few hours, you forced yourself to forget about your “teammate” and focus on the game instead. To everyone’s surprise, you were very good at Monopoly. You had already collected over $7000 worth of assets. You were more than happy to win by default. Arthur suggested Uno and everyone complied. You had never played it before which made the group very happy. 

When you got your cards you leaned over to Charles and whispered “What the fuck should I do now? ” Charles peeked at your cards and by instinct you shied them away from him. “You have to show me the cards so I can tell you what to do.” He laughed. You rolled your eyes and showed him the cards. “How the hell did you get 3 +4 cards?” “Why? Is that bad?” “No no. It is very good and I am very grateful my turn is before you.” “I am gonna crush these motherfuckers” You silently giggled.

“Y/N your turn,” Andrea called out. You placed the +4 card on the table. “Seriously?” Lando sighed and took 4 cards from the deck. “I thought you'd never played this before.” “I haven’t. I’m just that good, Norris.” “You know you could put all the +4 cards at once? ” Charles whispered in your ear. When your turn came again you placed both your +4 cards down. “Oh come on. You’re an absolute ass.” Lando exclaimed. “You just got destroyed by a UNO rookie, Lando” Pierre doubled over in laughter. “Also you have only one card left. You can call out UNO” Arthur nudged you. “UNO!” You yelled. “Well, I guess we have a winner. ” Lorenzo sighed and folded.

You started feeling a little guilty. Your winning spree kept cutting the game short. It didn’t look like anyone was having any fun. Even if Charles isn’t going to introduce you as his girlfriend, you still want his friends and brothers to like you as Charles’ girl. Charles brought in Scrabble as his last resort. He wasn’t expecting to go through 2 games so quickly. You were chosen as the judge. You promised yourself to go easy on everyone. You weren’t sure if you were making a good impression on everyone but boy did your ego love this. 

**************

“What do you mean ‘rizz’ isn’t accepted?” Arthur yelled. “Mate it isn’t in the dictionary.” “Then why does everyone call Lando ‘NoRIZZ’?” “Hey!” “I consider it as an acceptable word. We know the meaning. It exists. It’s a word.” You chimed in. “Thank you!” Arthur smiled and added 13 points to himself. The game continued and you limited yourself to simple words. And you accepted every word regardless of how ridiculous it was. 

“Yes Pierre ‘Fuck’ is a word.” 

“I mean we all know what ‘OMG’ is”

“Sure, Charles. You can make Frenglish words.” 

You could physically feel the pain from the insanity of some words but you were on a mission. You nodded and smiled and carried on. The words became chaotic by the minute. Your last straw was when Lando argued that “Skibidi” should be accepted. 

“That’s it. I can’t take this shit anymore. I respect the game too much to put up with this. You are way too old to use the word ‘Skibidi’, Lando.” “Yeah so wrong, Lando” Pierre fakes disappointment. “You! Fuck is not acceptable.” “Not acceptable. Yes sorry, Y/N” He bites back a laugh. “OMG!? Are you kidding me?” “I wasn’t.” Lorenzo shakes his head. “And my boyfriend sits there looking pretty and wanting to make up Frenglish words. THAT’S NOT EVEN A LANGUAGE. NOT ACCEPTABLE!” 

“I’m sorry. What did you just say?” Charles looked up at you. “I said Lando is old.” You tried to shift the conversation. “Why the fuck am I getting slandered?” “No. I think it was something about your boyfriend being pretty and making up words.” Charles redirects you. “Um... I don’t remember saying that.” You mumbled. “Yeah no. That’s what we heard. Right Arthur?” Pierre snickered. 

“Hey if my girlfriend says Frenglish isn’t acceptable then it isn’t, guys” Charles smirked. “Or it is. I don’t remember saying it.” You shrugged. “So you can do whatever you like.” The ceiling looked much more interesting than the gorgeous green eyes looking at you. “I think our work is done here. Let’s go guys.” Lando stood up. “And what exactly was that work, Norizz?” You called out as everyone was walking out the door chattering. Lando just smiled at you and closed the door. 

You and Charles remained quiet and just looked at each other for a long moment. “I don’t k-” “Do you r-” You both spoke at the same time. Gentle giggles echoed in the silence. “I was gonna ask if you regretted it?” Charles looked at you with a hopeful glint in his eyes. “No. God no. Charles, I don’t regret it at all. But to be honest, I kinda thought you hosted this game night to introduce me as your girlfriend. It sucked ass when you called me your teammate.” You looked down at your feet. You contemplated if sitting down would make this whole shebang less awkward. But Charles quietened your thoughts by standing up and taking your hands in his.

 “Cherie, seconds before you knocked, I was having a full-blown panic attack. I really really like you and I wanted us to be official but I didn’t know what you felt. The guys were there for emotional support because I do not trust myself with any high-risk situation.”

“You drive a car at 300 km/hr almost every weekend.” 

“Please. That is nothing compared to you. Every time I get in the cockpit, I’m more worried about your safety than mine. I was going to introduce you as my girlfriend. Trust me the word was on the tip of my tongue but I was being a pussy and chickened out. I’m so glad you did it tho.” His smile made those adorable dimples pop as he hugged you. “I’m so glad I did it too.” Your voice came out muffled with your cheek pressed against his chest. 

“And I’m so glad you called me pretty.”   

[hadersversion]

i had a long day but obviously there’s only one thing on my mind….if you guessed logan howlett, you’re correct! but if you guessed old man! logan, i owe ya a scratchy on friday ;)

but….

imagine old man! logan and a librarian! reader.

logan, laura, and charles moved out into the countryside in oregon. settling down in a nice cabin in the woods, town being a few miles away.

you lived nearby, all by your lonesome. you worked in town at the local library. charles brought laura in the one day, searching for some old book that you’re pretty sure they stopped printing in the 70s…but you didn’t want to let the old geezer down so you did some digging. you watched as laura walked around the building, eyes open in awe. it’s almost like she’s never seen a library before. she stopped in front of a child’s chapter book collection, eyeing it up.

“that one’s my favorite, you could borrow it if you want to. i’m sure your grandfather would let ya get a library card.” you winked at her.

she looked at you then the books, a small smile appearing. she grabbed the book and walked up to the counter with you, charles eagerly waiting to see what laura picked. you start to get laura’s library card ready, turning your back on the two.

“there you two are, got me thinking i lost ya out there.” a gruff voice said from behind.

you turned around, library card and book in hand.

“what the hells that?” he asks.

the man is tall, older looking. but nonetheless handsome. his broad shoulders being hugged by a flannel.

“a library card. for laura.” you smile, handing it over to her. “remember in two weeks you have to return it. or whenever your finished.” you said.

logan looked down at you, studying your kind demeanor. you’re cute, he thought, really cute. the large cardigan covering your body as glasses sit atop your head. but logan being logan, pushes down any feeling and huffs. “cars running, let’s go.”

charles and laura wave bye before leaving, you watch as the man pushes him out. his shoulders are tensed. his grey hair sticking up every which way and his matching beard needing a trim. but something about him intrigued you.

laura and charles become regulars at the library, constantly visiting and perusing the shelves. often spending hours just reading and enjoying the silence. and there’s logan, waiting around like he has something better to do.

“ya know, readings actually good for you? right?” you joke.

he rolls his eyes. “got more important things to do than sit around in this stuffy place all day.”

“grumpy.” you mutter, causing him to look over at you. “why don’t you go look for something? there’s gotta be something you like!”

he shakes his head. “doubt it.”

you grab his hand and pull him towards the shelves. “come on, give it a try.” you pour your lip.

his breathe hitches and his eyes burn into you. he’s never been this close to you. been able to smell your scent of a flowery perfume and bubblegum. his demeanor changes a bit, staring at your lips. if he was already thinking about you a lot, this was definitely not helping. “fine.”

you spend the afternoon looking for anything that will please this man.

“war books?”

“been there, done that.”

“art history?”

“do i look like an art professor?”

“maybe in a past time.” you wink. “hmm, cooking?”

he shakes his head.

“god, you’re so hard to please.” you go through each section. “the history of harley davidson?”

this piqued his interest. “let me see that.” he grabs it, pushing his glasses off his head and onto his face.

you could do a celebration dance. “told ya!”

“yeah, yeah. let me go find the kid and the old man to check this book out.”

logan starts joining the two on the library trips. he says it’s to find more books on automotives. but charles often teases him that it’s to see his favorite librarian.

he denies but even laura knows the truth.

the old man has a crush.

[shegetsburned]

IS IT THAT SWEET? I GUESS SO. w. shiu kong ⋆.˚ ᡴꪫ

── ask content. “i gotta know, outside of the fwb!shiu au, what are your sfw and NSFW headcanons about him?”

sfw

negligent in keeping a normal sleep schedule, but when you’re with him he’s sleeping like a baby tucked between your breasts, arms wrapped around your lower waist, almost drooling on your shirt and you’ve never seen him this relaxed. he comes home late and just drops on you, easily drifting to sleep two minutes later.

a very well hidden case of chronic stress. he’s working a dangerous job with dangerous clients, which couldn’t be more stressful— even more when his client’s a greedy fool who kills teenagers. shiu has worked in the field enough time to make it unseen, but his stress level is constantly on a high, and guess who he goes to when it’s too much.

nonchalantly allows you to spend his money. he’s greedy with anyone else but you. you’ve got the password for his card and he’s even bought a credit card to your name in case anything happens. 'y/n kong' is written on the backside, with a more-than-generous credit limit.

makes time for you even with his fucked up schedule. he’s taking you out on expensive dates just to watch you parade in that pretty little dress he bought you days prior. it’s often 4-5 stars restaurants or breathtaking views.

he’s leaving early in the morning and doesn’t want to wake you up? there are flowers on the counter with a sweet note. you fell asleep waiting for him when he works late? beautiful flowers in the room when you wake up. you’re pissed at him for some stupid shit he did? no, you’re not. not when you’ve got flowers in your hands and he’s taking you to your favourite restaurant to make up for your stupid argument.

nsfw

knows how to properly enjoy every women’s features. he’s an ass and a boobs man, but also a thighs, waist, shoulders, eyes and lips man. he’s attracted to every part and shows his undeniable obsession when his hands travel from your hips to your back and to the nape of your neck to your sweet lips.

loves fucking you from behind. the sweat dripping from the curve of your back all the way to the flesh of your ass does things to him. while he plants his nails around your waist to steady the pace, he can’t help but get a mental picture of the addictive features of his beautiful girl.

takes a puff between kisses and blows the smoke into your mouth, intoxicating you further with the euphoric taste.

shiu ‘just one last time’ kong, but the next thing you know, he’s got you in a nasty mating press, ready to fuck his cum into you and bring both of you to yet another orgasm.

he’s truly obsessed. when he comes back home, he barely has removed his jacket when he cages you in the corner of the room, his hand buried under your shirt with a cocky smirk. he doesn’t remove anything but lower his pants and it’s sloppy and rough when he fucks into you.

the most silent man ever, but when he does make sound, it might be what finishes you right off. it’s guttural groans and heavy breathes against the crook of your neck.

he insist you speak his name, though. the quivering word that come out of your puffy lips leaves his cock pulsating. he definitely gets hard from it.

cigarettes. after. sex.

@honeyandbiscuitandtea-cafe for being equally if not more obsessed over the man as i am <𝟑

© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.

[megaderping]

A while ago, I made a post going into parts of the missable Sae Palace arc text messages, such as these:

However, that post neglected to include a full transcript. I have since transcribed all of these texts, which occur on 10/30, 11/3, 11/7, and 11/11. You must not infiltrate Sae's Palace until after these dates in order to get these.

Transcripts below the cut! Crossposted to the P5 sub.

The first of these texts takes place on 10/30. You will miss this text if you infiltrate the Palace on the first available day.

--

Ryuji: Yo, Akechi.

Akechi: What is it?

Ryuji: You got any idea who the true culprit might be?

Futaba: Oh yeah! You said you saw a masked guy, right?

Haru: I wanted to ask about that too.

Futaba: Did you really see him? The masked guy's gotta be the true culprit, right?

Akechi: If this so-called true culprit is acting alone, then there can be no mistake about it.

Futaba: I see.

Yusuke: The next question is, who is that masked man?

Akechi: Unfortunately, I do not know that much.

Futaba: Ugh, you're useless.

Akechi: That is quite harsh.

Futaba: Aw, you're making me blush!

Ann: That wasn't a compliment...

Akechi: At this point, I have yet to even grasp any clues. But once this is dealt with, I will surely capture him. I promise you that.

We'll be counting on you.

Akechi: Perfect. Leave it to me. It may sound somewhat odd for me to say this, but I am an exceptional detective. I assure you, I will catch this culprit. Look forward to it.

Can you do it?

Akechi: Hm? Do you not trust me?

[The rest plays out the same as the other option.]

--

What's funny about this exchange is how the Thieves know Akechi's deal and are just playing along. It makes some of the reactions (especially from Haru and Futaba) read as comically passive aggressive. However, the more interesting texts start coming on 11/03, 11/07, and 11/11.

Starting with 11/03.

--

Ryuji: Goddamit. People're acting like we were the ones who killed 'em.

Yusuke: I have even heard them say we are assassins hired to deal with psychotic breakdown victims.

Ann: Ugh, that's obviously not what we're trying to do.

Akechi: This must be part of the plan to shift blame onto the Phantom Thieves. After all, the true culprit is the one killing the people on that ranking list.

This is unforgivable

Akechi: Indeed. I have no intentions of letting this slide.

This is total BS

Akechi: But that is the truth for the general public at the moment.

[Both lead to...]

Futaba: Man, this culprit guy really won't let up. I don't remember ever doing anything that'd make someone hate us THIS much.

Haru: He used my father as well...

Akechi: I cannot fathom what his motive may be... We will just have to capture and interrogate him.

Makoto: But before that, we need to change my sister's heart. That's our first step toward stopping him.

Akechi: I must agree. The true culprit will be caught, but before that we must deal with Sae-san. If ranking is being taken into consideration, perhaps I will be targeted too... Just kidding.

--

This tells us that Shido is deliberately having Akechi target high ranking targets on the PhanSite in order to terrify the public with abhorrent acts of violence, much like he did in April. It's a way to make people feel scared and more reliant on Shido to be the change that Japan needs. But if you secure the treasure as quickly as possible, you will miss this added information that really deepens how cruel he truly is by ordering hits just to paint a convenient narrative.

And this is definitely Shido's idea, because on 11/7 we get this gem...

--

Haru: Do you think the culprit could be someone at our school?

Yusuke: That seems somewhat sudden.

Haru: I mean, didn't they find a calling card in Principal Kobayakawa's office? I thought you had suggested that idea yourself, Yusuke.

Yusuke: That was just a generalization.

Haru: But if Mako-chan noticed what was going on with you guys, somebody else might have too.

Ann: So you think that "somebody else" is trying to frame us? What's gotten into you so suddenly?

Haru: Nothing has gotten into me. I just think there's a chance the culprit is related to Shujin...

You might be right. / There's no way.

[Both get the same response:]

Yusuke: What is all of this about? It's too soon to be jumping to conclusions like this.

Haru: Well, I was hoping to hear a professional opinion on the matter... What are your thoughts, Akechi-kun?

Akechi: The possibility is not zero, but it does seem a bit unlikely.

Haru: Why do you ask?

Akechi: A normal person would never do such a thing. They would have no reason to callously murder your principal.

Haru: And what if they weren't normal?

Akechi: Are you implying they kill for the sheer pleasure of it?

Haru: No, not like that. What I mean is, you need certain special abilities to navigate through that world, yes?

Akechi: Ah, so you're saying the culprit is a Persona-user.

Haru: Yes.

Akehci: I see... How perceptive. Truthfully, I was considering that possibility myself. But it is difficult to think they have ties to Shujin Academy.

Haru: Why?

Akechi: There would be no motive for them to carry out such a cruel plot. Clearly our culprit is acting behind the scenes to accomplish some grand objective. He likely has accomplices. It is even possible that he is being controlled by someone.

Makoto: Controlled? By whom?

Akechi: If I knew that, I do not think we would be in this much trouble.

Haru: I see... So even someone like you doesn't know, Akechi-kun.

Futaba: Looks like our genius detective's not so much of a genius after all.

Akechi: Haha, harsh as always. If there is one thing I know, it is that the culprit behind all of this is extremely shrewd. But don't worry. I will catch him, no matter what it takes.

I'm looking forward to that. / I wonder if you can do it.

Akechi: More importantly, we need to focus on changing Sae-san's heart for the time being. If we cannot do that, everything we have done will be for naught. We absolutely must succeed here.

--

There is so much to unpack here. By far, it's my favorite of these texts because of the light it sheds on Akechi's motivations and intentions. First, we have Haru pressing the subject. She clearly wants to squeeze answers out of Akechi. She's subtly putting him on the spot because she knows...

But Akechi lets slip that no, actually, he doesn't do this for pleasure. That actually, he is being controlled and that the true mastermind is someone shrewd that he intends to take down. Amidst all of Akechi's lies and platitudes during this part of the story, we see a crack in his perfectly prepared mask. In a way, this is the most honest we've seen Akechi outside of his Royal confidant and on 8/28 and 9/3. In a way, he's sharing little slivers of himself with the rest of the team (either begrudgingly or for reasons he doesn't fully understand) the way he already has with Joker.

And it actually explains a few things that happen later. Namely, the way he downplays the need to kill the other Phantom Thieves until after the election (keep in mind, he does intend to knock Shido down from his pedestal) as well as treating Morgana as "just a cat." Obviously, this doesn't absolve Akechi of his guilt, but it does make it clear that he isn't as remorseless as a lot of people believe, even if no amount of sunk cost fallacy is gonna undo the damage he's done.

Hell, when combined with his lamentation that he didn't meet Joker years ago in the engine room and his reaction to Morgana explaining changes of heart, these texts further solidify that his feelings toward both Joker and the Thieves are extremely complex and absurdly messy.

Plus we get Haru and Futaba both taking shots at him, which is fun and also extremely deserved. :p

Moving on, there's one final missable November text on 11/11. It goes as follows:

--

Akechi: So, about the investigation... It seems they have no evidence that can truly be called as such.

Ryuji: Well duh.

Akechi: However, it seems they have no intentions of changing their plans.

Ann: They're going to investigate at both Shujin Academy and Leblanc, right?

Akechi: Indeed.

Makoto: Hm. I can understand Shujin... But why Leblanc?

Akechi: The key is Wakaba Isshiki.

Futaba: Is it cause of my mom's research?

Akechi: Correct. Her study of cognitive psience is closely connected to this case. Of that, there can be no doubt.

Futaba: Then this guy's really the mastermind behind all of this?

Akechi: That would be the case. There can be no mistake... The one who erased cognitive psience from this world is surely the culprit behind everything.

Makoto: And getting rid of the research was the only way they could use its powers?

Akechi: How perceptive of you. Yes, that is the only logical conclusion. Both Sae-san and I were searching for clues about that research. But just as we were about to deepen our investigation, this commotion began. And to make things even more troublesome... There was only one person with strong connections to both Shujin Academy and Leblanc. And that person turned out to be the leader of the Phantom Thieves.

Yusuke: So the culprit had calculated all of this in advance?

Akechi: Heavens no. That would be impossible. This was a miracle created by the coinciding of multiple chance situations.

Ryuji: Dude, you hear that? He says you got miraculously bad luck. Don't that make you feel good?

I'm so lucky.

Ryuji: Y'know, shitty luck is still luck.

That's not funny.

Ryuji: C'mon, you gotta be able to laugh it off at this point.

Haru: Yes, your luck really is impressive.

Akechi: At any rate, that's the current state of things. And that's why we must obstruct the investigation at all costs.

Makoto: Yes, that's our intention.

--

Once again, we have Akechi laying it on thick that Shido is the one behind everything, as he was the one who ordered the hit on Wakaba, stole her research, and had his own research team develop it further. And keep in mind, Shido's own words, first on 11/21...

"Those who get in the way must be eliminated at times—that's the correct way to use the Metaverse."

And later, his Shadow states, "Moreover, it was thanks to me that Akechi was able to properly use his power to begin with."

So we know that even the idea of inducing mental shutdowns came from him, even if Akechi offered his Metaverse abilities as part of his stupid revenge plan.

What this shows is Akechi wants to hint that there is this bigger puppet master, even if he's going to betray the Thieves, and this is actually really consistent with his Royal confidant. In Rank 7, he uses a billiard games as a metaphor for the upcoming betrayal kill and gives Joker an out, even if he's much happier if you assert your rivalry instead. This makes his warnings about the connections to Wakaba carry a very similar feeling, and since these texts were in Vanilla, it's likely that the Royal confidant built on this foundation.

But then there's the fact that the Thieves are fully in the know that Akechi is going to betray them, so it recontextualizes all these texts where they are genuinely trying to squeeze as much info out of him as they can and likely having to restrain themselves hard (especially Futaba and Haru).

And all of this you will never see unless you delay the infiltration until 11/12. So, the next time you play Persona 5 Royal, it might be worthwhile to delay Sae's Palace to see these in-game! They're really cool and it's a shame they aren't scripted events.

[joelscruff]

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

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

It's crazy how one weekend can change everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe your mother can solve this problem for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did you do?"

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

"Did you go to your lesson on Saturday?"

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

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

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

"So have you? Been making progress?"

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

"Which ones are you learning?"

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

Your stomach twists uncomfortably.

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

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

"Just.... bein' open."

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

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

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

Oh. You didn't know that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're looking at his daughter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But you did."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's fuckin' crazy about you.

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

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

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

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

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

"Need it deep inside, huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shiver, "Why didn't you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

The anxiety settles, and you believe him.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His expression falters, "Why, baby?"

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

"I like driving, it's peaceful."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

It feels so fucking good to have Joel Miller.

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

buying lingerie, what is this?? help!!

Of course, Tasha is the first to reply:

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

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

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

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

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

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

why is being sexy so awkward and expensive?

welcome to my life sister

158 DOLLARS FOR 3 SCRAPS OF MATERIAL

that's it, let it all out

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, cool."

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

"Is it that obvious?"

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckles, "What were you expectin'?"

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

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

"Did you remind her?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle, "Yeah, probably not."

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

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

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

"Tangled Up in Blue, Bob Dylan."

"I knew it was Bob Dylan."

"Good ear. You play?"

"Um, not really."

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Need your pussy touched, baby?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

Hold on...

Angel

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

You wince, "Oh. Right."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

This is too much, you want to say.

How much did you spend? you want to ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

He does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shiver at the thought.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

Are you in Dallas yet?

Let me know when you arrive.

What hotel are you staying at?

Text me back now.

Where are you?

Answer the phone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You read the message again, and then again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There's a beat of silence, then -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But it -"

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

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

"What d'you mean?"

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

"Is that my crucifix?" you ask quietly.

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

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

But you already know that it is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod quickly, expression hazy, "Yes."

"How wet?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good?" he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When he says slow - he means slow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hurts?" he asks softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You close your eyes, breathe him in.

I love you.

[missriddle03]

Title: Even in sickness

Parings: daryl dixon x fem! reader (mentions of y/n)

Small synopsis: daryl is ill and you look after him, turns out he cares about you more than you realise

Time to read: just over 14mins

Word count: 3,022

Warnings: none but formatting may be off as it took me half an hour to fix it 😭

(GIF isn't mine, found on pinterest)

The cold air blew past you and Daryl as you both were trying to hunt some deer; or anything to eat. Daryl had been in the woods for a few months with you by his side trying to find any hints about Rick’s whereabouts.

A few years had passed without anything new but neither of you wanted to give up. Daryl had his crossbow swung on his shoulder whilst dog was running getting his exercise. “How are you feeling?” you asked him. Your eyes darted to Daryl seeing he was already looking at you. 

A slight smile formed on your face. He was wearing a green poncho and you were wearing a shirt and jeans. “Yeh, I’m good. You?”

“Mhm, I’m okay”

In fact, you were okay even though it wasn’t what you had planned for the day you were still happy to be in his company and he was happy you were with him. “You know I could have done this by myself,” he stated. 

Daryl was a capable man who knew what to do in any situation thrown his way. You knew he would be fine by himself but you didn’t want to leave him alone. 

“Of course you could have done this by yourself but then you’d be bored without me” 

Standing near him you grabbed a little knife seeing the dog bark continuously. You both began running over to him and saw a little snake going through the grass. 

Daryl got his crossbow and shot it before picking it up and wrapping it around his neck. “Dinner is served,” you whispered more to yourself than to him because he still heard it.

“If I see anything else we’ll eat that,” Daryl said. You and Daryl were close as ever and your friendship blossomed more once you reunited in Alexandria shortly after the fall of negan. Seeing him gone broke your heart and you wanted to be there for him and he felt the same. A relationship was never in the cards for Daryl but it seemed like an option once you came into his life.

Daryl noticed your little mannerisms so when he saw you run your hand through your hair he let a little frown out. “What’s on your mind?” 

You looked at Daryl whilst trying not to trip over the knotted grass below. “Nothing..why?” 

“Somethings wrong I can tell”

You both passed through some trees(still following the dog) slowly heading back to camp. “I just think about the time we’ve wasted and the fact that we don’t even see anyone anymore. I mean when was the last time we saw Carol?”

He started counting on his fingers the amount of months it had been but he suddenly lost track. “We’ve all been so busy with our lives but I just feel that every single one of us have lost touch”

Since you and Daryl had been cooped up in the woods your hair has grown longer and you have gotten stronger. Daryl became more tough and his hair had gotten longer too. 

“That maybe true, but we jus’ gotta focus on ourselves” 

“Yeah..I get that still feel bad though”

Daryl nodded in agreement before paying full attention to his dog who had seemed to be way ahead of both of you. “Dog! Come here boy,”

Both of you began running to catch up to him but suddenly you couldn’t see him anymore. “Daryl, what are you-”

“I’m over here,” he called out. Daryl was nowhere to be seen standing up but then you looked to your left and saw him in a lake doused with water. 

You let out a laugh before seeing Dog running into the lake and splashing about giving Daryl licks. “Atleast dog came back”

Daryl threw his crossbow onto the dry path before walking through the water. You went over to him grabbing his hand and lifting him up. “How did you manage to fall in a massive lake?”

Dog leaped out of the lake and shook the water from his fur all over Daryl and you. “I was running and didn’t see the dip which I fell into and then the lake appeared”

You still had the crossbow slung onto your shoulders, “the crossbow suits you,” he said. “Thanks,”

Daryl was drenched head to toe in water and the temperatures were dropping as the night went on. “Still got the snake?” you asked him and he nodded his head. 

Darkness surrounded the sky and worry filled your head. “Hey..I think it’s gonna rain,” 

You both were not far from where you were staying so you were hoping that it wouldn’t rain until you got shelter. “Heads up,” Daryl stated pointing to the walker that was coming your way. 

A knife and a crossbow was what you had on you and you weren't 100% sure about using the crossbow so you walked over and used the knife stabbing the walking in its head. Dog was staying between you both, not leaving your sides. “Once we get back you might wanna get into a fresh pair of clothes so you don’t catch a cold” 

“I’ll be fine,” 

You tutted at him. “Just because you’re a big tough guy you can still catch a cold,”

He shrugged his shoulders and was ringing out the water from his poncho. Almost simultaneously the clouds began getting dark and little drops of rain were falling from the sky. 

You liked the rain, the smell of the rain was a comforting scent and it was the perfect mood to light a candle and read a book..but this was the apocalypse so you hardly had time to do the things you used to do. “Maybe it will just be a little shower,” he said.

Then it started lashing it down.

“Okay..maybe not,” 

All three of you started running faster trying to get to your accommodation but it felt like it was taking forever. Once dog began barking you could tell you were itching nearer to where you needed to be.

You opened the tent and let him in as you shortly followed after. “Take your clothes off,” you instructed him as his eyes widened. “You know what I meant”

Turning around, you grabbed the clothes you needed from the pile you had put on a box you found. You changed your clothes and once he did you took them and rung them out from excess water. 

“Have to do for now until the rain stops,”

Daryl took the snake and put it on the side clearly fed up with the weather. Dog ran inside and jumped on Daryl wanting attention. “You’re a good boy..aint ya, yes you are” Daryl spoke.

He turned to look at you, seeing your face in a smile. “What?”

“Nothing..just I like seeing this side of you”

Daryl slightly smiled and looked outside to see if the rain had stopped… it hadn’t.

You had woken up a few hours before Daryl and you were already sharpening some knives you had that had gone blunt. The dog was awake so it was just you and him but you could hear him whimpering.

“Is your daddy not awake yet?”

Giving him attention you dropped your items on the floor deciding to check on him. It had been a few days since you both got caught in the rain but Daryl had been looking different a bit each day.

The first night after he looked a bit more red in the face, the second night he felt cold, the third night he was snivilling and you weren’t sure what he’d be today. You heard a small cough coming from inside, you saw Daryl sat but was trying to stop himself from coughing further. “Hey, you okay?” you asked him.

“M’alright. No need to worry”

He started coughing again, “Daryl I am worried about you, I think you’re getting ill” 

His cheeks looked flushed but as you went over to him you placed your hand on his forehead and he felt cold. “You might have the flu,” you said.

Daryl shook his head not giving you an answer; instead he took his crossbow and walked out. You trailed after him taking the crossbow off him. “Hey!”

You crossed your arms whilst the crossbow was still in your hand. “You are ill Daryl. I’m not letting you go out till you get better”

“But I-”

“No, I need you to get better. How about I go to Alexandria and get some medication from Siiddiq?” Daryl hesitated to say anything but he placed his hand in his pockets until he sneezed. You still stayed looking at him awaiting an answer.

“I’m okay I’ll just deal with it” 

He looked around but stopped once the sun glared at him in his eyes. “You can’t even look near the sun! I’m getting those medication for you”

Daryl widened his eyes not realising that you were being serious. You put your hair in a ponytail and attached your belt with what you need incase you encounter a walker. “Wait here till I get back,”

You handed him his crossbow back and started walking away. “Y/n,”

“Yeah?” you called out. “Be safe”

Smiling, you left and started heading to Alexandria. You hadn’t been there for a while but you knew you needed to bite back your thoughts and continued on your journey.

A few days passed but you finally reached your destination.

“Who is it?” someone asked. It was a guard.

“Y/n..friend of Michonne’s” the guard looked down and pointed to you before walking down the steps.

Truth be told you were a friend of Michonne’s but you hadn’t actually seen her for a good while. The gate opened and some familiar faces stood behind it. First to welcome you was Rosita.

She pulled you into a hug exchanging quick hello’s but shortly some other people came out to greet you. A young girl with a cowboy hat had a big smile on her face, “Hey Judith, how have you been?” you said. “I’m good, is uncle Daryl here?” 

You shook your head. “He isn’t very well, I was wondering if I could see Michonne?” It was Judith’s turn to nod her head as she went to get Michonne. Once she came into view you gave her a hug. “Oh, how I’ve missed being here,”

“We’ve missed you, Judith informed me that Daryl isn’t well?”

Everyone was really busy with jobs keeping themselves occupied and earning their keep. You knew how hard it was for Michonne to get to where she was today. “Yes he caught the flu, I was wondering could I borrow some medication from your infirmary?” 

You knew how blunt it was to ask but Michonne knew that you wouldn’t come here if he was just a bit ill. “Of course you can, any chance you can stay a bit longer?”

Michonne asked Siddiq to grab some medication whilst you pondered your thoughts. “I..look sorry but I’m on a tight schedule today” you saw her eyes dart down. “..but I can try and see if I can come another day this week and maybe I can bring Daryl” 

Judith suddenly had a bigger smile on her face, “I miss uncle Daryl,” she stated.

“We would love to have you both here whenever you can” Michonne replied. You hugged them both and saw siddiq arrive with the medication. 

“Here it is, take two of these twice a day and there should be enough for atleast a weeks worth. I hope he gets better”

You thanked siddiq and gave him a hug before placing it into your satchel. “So..are you and Daryl a thing?” a voice said.

You turned your head to see Eugene standing next to Rosita who was now smiling and almost laughing. “What do you mean?” 

“Well..you are of the female anatomy and he is of the male anatomy so theory indicates the longer you spend with a person the more the physical attraction begins and corresponding with that is a relationship” Eugene explained.

Your eyes widened as he talked. “Okay first off, that could have been a much shorter explanation and secondly no we aren’t in a relationship,”

Rosita put her hair in a bobble and chuckled. “Really? So you’re saying you and Daryl who have been alone together haven’t even kissed?”

You shook your head at her question. “Have you slept-”

“No! Stop asking”

You’d be kidding yourself if you didn’t admit you like him but he never showed any interest romantically or maybe he did in his own way. “Look I don’t know okay, we just never decided to date and it isn’t exactly the right time”

“Yes but when is the right time?” Rosita asked. Your silence filled the air and you began tapping the strap of your satchel. “Okay but don’t blame me if he doesn’t feel the same”

At this point you were itching to get back and hoping Daryl didn’t get worse. “Wait, so you do like him?”

“No-just…forget it I need to get back. I promise I’ll come visit again soon” Rosita slowly nodded her head and you all gave each of them a hug before parting ways and continued on with your journey to get back to Daryl. They had given you a bicycle to use so you would get back a bit quicker and it gave you a break from walking; you also was given a tin of soup.

It had been a few hours since you set off and finally you were back where you needed to be. Placing your bike down, you walked through the trees to see Dog sitting in front of the tent. “Is Daryl okay?” almost in response a whine left his mouth. You opened your satchel to take out the medication and opened the tent. Daryl was wide awake just staring at the roof of the tent. “Hey..” you said. His eyes looked at you and a smile was present on his face. Your heart warmed at the sight of him, you took a few steps to him and handed him the medication.

“Siddq gave these to me for you, gotta take two a day” you handed him a bottle of water. Daryl took it and grabbed one pill and swallowed it. “Thank you”

You both looked at each other the silence taking over, neither one of you looked away. Daryl grabbed a blanket and pulled it closer to him still looking at you but he mumbeled something that you couldn’t quite catch. “You hungry?” you said. 

Daryl nodded his head at you, “Yeah but, don’t go out ya way to hunt somethin”

You bit your lip slightly thinking what to do, suddenly you had an idea. You remembered the can of soup in your bag. The only thing you needed to do was heat it up. Emptying the can, you poured it into a mug. Some sticks were laying around so you picked them up and started a fire to put the soup on to heat up.

Once it was ready you picked it up and gave it to Daryl. “Are you not havin’ anythin’?” he asked you. “No, I’m alright”

Truth be told you couldn’t care about food you just wanted to make sure he was okay and besides if you were really hungry you would go hunting. Daryl began eating the soup and eventually he finished it. Smiling, you took the mug and checked his temperature. “You’re still a bit hot but hopefully the fever settles, need anything else let me know”

Daryl started frowning which took you aback. “Ya don’t need to look after me, I’m fine”

“Daryl, you have a fever..you’re coughing and you can barely get up without your head hurting” 

He only looked down avoiding your eyes. “Still I don’t want you to force yourself to look after me m’fine”

Now it was your turn to frown. You walked over to him sitting down besides him taking in his appearance from his brown curls, all the way down to the faint mud stains on his fingers. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw him like this, “I’m looking after you because I want to, not because I’m forced to. Daryl I’ve known you since this damned world ended but I’ve never been forced into making sure you’re okay”

He stayed silent not knowing whether to talk or let you continue on. “I care for you Daryl and probably a lot more than you realise”

Daryl’s eyes stayed between yours, you guided your hand to put it on his cheek. “Don’t ever think that I’m only looking after you cause I have to..I want to and-”

“Can I kiss ya?” he interrupted.

You swallowed hard forgetting the rest of your sentence, your eyes never left his and he never left yours. It felt like you had butterflies in your stomach and an ache in your chest. “I-um, sure if you want to,”

Daryl put his hand on top of yours and kissed you. It was as if the world stopped for a moment..like the life left stayed silent and disappeared just so you could have your moment. You pulled away resting your head against his, “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,”

You didn’t care if you were to get ill now you just wanted to appreciate and savour the moment. “Why did you want to kiss me?” you asked him. 

He looked at you again (his hand still in yours) “Because I’ve been wantin’ to for a while, why did you let me?”

“Because as it turns out I’ve been wanting to for a while as well,” You put a strand of his hair behind his ear, “..and once you’re better I promised Judith we would go see her, I know you miss her”

“I would like that”

Eventually you both ended up falling asleep in his arms with dog sitting in between. After all, things have a way of working out if not in the way nature intended. 

Thank you for reading..the ending wasn't what i exactly planned so i hope u like it.

Also check out my young!daryl fic which is apart of my two hearts au pre apocolpyse. Here is masterlist

tags for this fic: @ang3l0fthursday @ihyperfixateoncharacters @baldeagle21

[mystic-writings]

closing time | robin buckley

PAIRING — robin buckley x fem!reader

SUMMARY — robin has a crush on you. what happens when you're locked in keith's office after the store closes?

WARNINGS — fluff, banter, love confessions, mentions of panic/anxiety & season three

WORD COUNT — 2,353

NOTES — something short and sweet for my beloved robin!! i hope y'all enjoy and don't forget to leave feedback please! also, this was very loosely inspired by sparks fly by taylor swift

masterlist | navigation

Robin Buckley was utterly, helplessly, in love. 

There was no denying it anymore; Robin was completely in love with you. She would light up every time you walked into class; her heart stopped every time you smiled at her, and spluttered back to life when you’d say her name. Her mind ran away from her every time you shared a shift at the video store, full of daydreams of what you and her would even do if you dated, only to be shut down by the brutal fear of rejection. 

 But you didn’t know that.

As far as Robin Buckley was aware, you only thought of her as your anxious, rambling friend who, more often than not, spent her shifts making fun of your co-worker Steve and his almost inexplicable lack of game. 

Most of the time that she was around you, Robin was forced to ‘act normal’, as if she’d ever done that before. It usually resulted in useless rambles about something weird she’d read about, like gingivitis or how most of the backdrop scenes from Star Wars were actually just still paintings. But you usually seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and that took some of the uncomfortable anxiety away. And sometimes, you’d even laugh. A genuine one, too, and it would make Robin’s day.

Tonight was a lot like that. It was Friday, and the typical customer buzz around the store was enough to keep you, Robin, and Steve occupied for a while. But by 9pm, the clientele died out, and the three of you were behind the counter playing a round of Crazy 8s. 

“Hah!” Robin said, slamming her palm to the pile of cards. She pulled it back to reveal an 8 of clubs, a proud smile on her face. “Suck it, Steve! Last card,” she huffed, leaning on the counter as you and Steve stared expectantly at her. “Oh, right. And it’s hearts now.”

Steve huffed, glancing at his cards before taking one from the pick-up pile. “Dick move, Buckley.”

“Dick face, Harrington.”

“What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at yours before placing a 3 on the pile. 

Robin just shrugged, her lips forming a smirk as she placed her final card down. “I win!” 

“Alright, I’m out,” Steve huffed, tossing his cards on the pile. You couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of clubs he had, causing you to stifle a giggle. “See you losers tomorrow.” 

“Good luck with that, Steve, ‘cause I won’t be here.” You mentioned, scooping the cards into your hands. “Mom’s taking me to Indianapolis for some family thing. Had to cancel my morning shift, which means…” 

Steve, who had been retrieving his jacket and car keys from under the counter, turned back with what you could only describe as a look of horror painted on his face. “No,” 

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’.

“No! You can’t do this to me, Y/n!” 

“I already did, Steve.” You began shuffling the cards. 

“But Keith always smells like eggs in the mornings! And he hates me,” Steve whined. “I can’t believe you.” 

“Sorry,” you shrugged half-heartedly. “Can’t un-cancel my shift now, Keith’ll be pissed if I call him this late.” 

Robin scoffed, arms folded across her chest as she watched you shuffle the cards intently. “No, he won’t. He’s practically in love with you.” 

You shuddered at the thought. “Ew, gross. Please never say those words to me again, Robin. I beg of you. I think I’ll die, or… contract something if I think about it for more than 30 seconds.” 

“Okay, okay, I’ve gotta get outta here,” Steve said, spinning his keys on his finger. “See you weirdos later.” 

You and Robin shouted farewells as he exited the store, the bell ringing, signifying his departure. Glancing up at Robin from your focus on the deck of cards, you asked, “Another round?” 

The girl nodded, a shaky exhale leaving her lips. You were closing together, and while it wasn’t uncommon, time alone with you was something Robin treasured. And the way you looked up at her through your eyelashes… Robin was going to be combating the butterflies in her stomach all night, it seemed. 

The next hour seemed to fly by with no issues. 

No customers came by after Steve left, so you and Robin played cards and watched a movie on the big TV hanging from the ceiling until your watch beeped, signalling 10pm — closing time. 

The pair of you worked in tandem, one of you counting the cash and working out what the deposit would be while the other made sure that everything looked nice and that the return carts were empty — of course they were, Steve had done them long before he left. 

Disaster struck when you went into Keith’s office to finish closing for the night. 

The analog clock on Keith’s desk read 10:18pm when you passed it, Robin just behind you. All that was left was to write up the deposit in an email and send it to the regional inbox. It was a delicate procedure, to say the least, but with Robin reading everything out to you as you typed it up made things a lot easier. 

“You got that?” Robin asked, hopping off the desk beside you. 

You glanced at her, fingers typing away. “Yeah, Robin, I think I can remember how many five dollar bills were put in the deposit envelope.”

Robin snorted beside you, the already-open safe door creaking as she pulled it. Slipping the envelope inside, along with the deposit slip, she shut the door with a loud clang, causing you to flinch slightly. 

“And…” you pressed a few final buttons on the keyboard, the computer trilling as the email finished sending. “We’re off! Let’s shut this place down and get the hell out of here.”

“As if I’d actually want to stay,” Robin grimaced as you powered down the computer. “This place smells like…” Robin sniffed the air, her face scrunching further. “Cheetos and B.O.” 

You giggled, pushing the chair into the desk. “Gross,” 

Robin made her way to the office door, a giddy smile on her face. “What? I’m right! It’s like Keith doesn’t know what air freshener is. Or a shower.”

She pulled on the door, her smile falling as she twisted the knob. 

“What? Robin, what is it?” 

“I— I don’t know,” Robin twisted the doorknob again, pulling the door toward her, to no avail. She twisted again, frantically, panic setting into her gut. “I think it’s locked!” 

“No,” you nearly gasped. “It can’t be locked!” 

“Okay, well, I’m turning the doorknob and it’s not moving, so…!” Robin said, voice shaking as she turned to look back at you. 

“Let me try, Robin. Maybe it’s just stuck.” You suggested. Robin relented, stepping to the side as you grasped the cool metal. You twisted and pulled, your movements growing frustrated and frantic as you realised that the door wasn’t stuck — you were, in fact, locked in. “Damn it!” You exclaimed, kicking the door. “I can’t believe this,” 

Robin’s hands flew to her hair, grasping at her scalp as she tried to calm herself down. She watched you begin to pace, chewing on your thumbnail, thinking of something, anything you could do to get yourselves out of this office. 

You were suddenly beginning to feel cramped, like the walls were closing in on you. But you took a breath, eyes scanning the room, landing on the phone conveniently placed on Keith’s desk. “Ha!” 

Robin watched you rush to the other side of the desk, picking up the receiver and beginning to dial a number. “Are you calling the police?”

“The police?” You scrunched up your nose, holding the receiver to your ear. “No, that’s stupid. I’m calling Steve.” 

“Calling the police when we’re locked in a room with no way out is stupid?” Robin scoffed, taking up your previous state of pacing. 

The phone rang in your ear as you sat down on the chair. “Of course it is, Robin. Steve has a set of keys, and there’s pretty much a guarantee that no one’s going to answer a Friday night call. They’re all out busting parties and pulling over drunk drivers. They’re gonna put us on the back burner. But Steve won’t. Besides, he’s not doing anything tonight, his date cancelled on him this morning.” 

Robin barely acknowledged your words, mind running wild with the thoughts running through her head. Steve would help, of course he would. Ever since Starcourt, he knew how much Robin hated being stuck somewhere with no way to get out. She just hoped he’d get here quickly. Being stuck in a room with no real way out was one thing, but being stuck in a room with the girl you’re practically in love with was something entirely different. 

“Steve!” You practically shouted with joy.

“Jesus,” Steve groaned. “Tone it down, please! What’s up?”

You huffed, leaning back in Keith’s chair. “Look, Robin and I locked ourselves in the office, somehow, and we need you to come by with your keys and let us out.” Steve sighed on the other line. “Pretty please? I’ll buy you Burger King on Sunday.” 

“Fine. But I’m taking my sweet time getting there. I’m on the other side of town, if you even care to know.” 

“I know where you live, Steve.” You rolled your eyes. “Just hurry up. I think Robin’s losing her mind in here.”

“When is she not losing her mind?” 

“Steve,” you warned, sighing a farewell as he hung up on you. “Okay, he’ll be here soon. I think.” 

“God,” Robin groaned, palms pressed to her forehead. “My mom’s gonna kill me. My cousins are coming into town for the week and I’m supposed to clean tomorrow and instead I’m stuck here, in a room that smells like death, where I’ll probably actually die! Of, like, dehydration or starvation or something meanwhile my cousin Evan is happily sitting on my mom’s couch eating cookies or something!” 

“Starvation?” You asked yourself as you stood from the chair. “Robin, it’ll be fine. Steve’s on his way,” 

The girl barely acknowledged you, still pacing, arms flying around as she spoke. “And, by the way, starvation? A really painful way to die! It hurts, Y/n, a lot. Or, at least, that’s what I’ve read, but who am I to judge! I mean, I’ve never starved to death before! Not until now, at least!” 

You sighed, stepping in Robin’s path, making sure to grab her shoulders firmly, eyes locked onto hers. “Robin,” you said, eyebrows raised as the girl fell silent. “Steve should be here anytime soon. We won’t starve to death. All we have to do is wait out the half an hour before he gets here, max. We’ll be fine.” 

Robin’s eyebrows cinched before she shook her head. “But what if something bad happens, Y/n? Then what are we gonna do? We’ll die! And I can’t die! I haven’t seen Evan since I was 9! He lives in Pennsylvania! Hershey, Pennsylvania! Do you have any idea how far that is?”

“It’s, like, an 8 hour drive, Robin,” you said, voice quiet. Your eyes stayed locked on hers, watching the anxiety swim through her green irises. It was like you could see the gears turning, clicking and grinding to form more anxious thoughts for her to spew out in a breathless panic. 

“Not to mention the smell in here! It’s horrible! I mean, seriously, could Keith not afford a fan, or-or some sort of air freshener! And the windows! They’re so small, and they barely open, and—” 

Robin’s words ceased when you pulled her forward, crashing your lips onto hers. Her muscles tensed for a moment, eyes wide, until she realised you were kissing her. You were kissing her. Robin barely had the time to kiss you back, to place her hands gingerly on your waist before you were pulling back, sucking in air. 

“What was that for?” Robin asked, voice squeaking. 

You only smiled. “I really needed you to stop talking.” You joked, a hesitant hand reaching up to brush some of Robin’s hair from her face. “Besides, I’ve been wanting to do that for, like, 6 months.” 

“Oh,” Robin said, nodding briefly before she smiled, cheeks burning red. “Can you do it again?” 

You smiled wide, nodding ecstatically before placing your hands on Robin’s neck, pulling her closer so that you could kiss her again. 

It was slower this time, a test of the waters as you both melted into one another’s touch. A delicate kiss, one that said a lot more than either of you could find the words for. Robin’s fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, her mind barely comprehending what was happening right now. 

The rest of the world seemed to fall away at that moment, so much so that neither of you paid attention to the soundscape around you, failing to hear the sound of keys jingling in the lock — the door to the office squealing as it opened, and the subsequent screams of Steve Harrington. 

“What the hell, guys!” Steve screamed, covering his eyes as you and Robin jumped away from one another, lips swollen and cheeks burning. “I leave you by yourselves for an hour and a half and you’ve got your tongues down each other’s throats!” 

“Thanks, Steve,” you said, sheepish as you took Robin’s hand, leading her past his gobsmacked form. 

“You owe me a hell of a lot more than just Burger King for making me see that.” 

“Sure thing!” You called out as you and Robin slung your bags over your shoulders.

“Thank you, dingus!” Robin shouted over her shoulder, smiling wide at Steve, following you out of the store.

You huffed a laugh and smiled at Robin, swinging your hands as you grabbed your keys from your pocket. “Want a ride home?”

“Sure,” Robin smiled, relishing the feeling of your hand in hers. She made sure to keep it there during the entire drive to her house, and as often as she could after that, too.

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

robin buckley taglist: @sunshine-daisies-library (open!)

taglist form here!

[isadelusions]

Daisuke [Mouthwashing]

| vlogger x editor(reader) au | fem reader | fluff | pt1 > pt2

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

Pretty Duo hm?

- He’s been making videos for quite a while and hired an editor because he isn’t too experienced with editing.

- He makes a video pretty much every week, sends it to you, tells you some details he would for his video with a little, you’ll edit, sends the finished product, he loves it and post. Repeat.

- After a few weeks, the both of you started chatting with each other regularly,checking up on each other, talked about the similar hobbies you guys share, laughing at each other’s cringe roblox usernames. You guys even decided to have matching avatars.

-From chatting daily to having voice calls for random game nights to FaceTiming. You were shy at first to reveal your face but as time goes by, you eventually got comfortable with it. (Bro was gagged by your face card)

“I must be lucky to have a pretty editor like you. ;)” ,that line totally send butterflies to your stomach.

- One time he asked if you would like to be in a video and play roblox with him. At first you were quite hesitant since his number of followers were slowly rising and afraid that it would destruct his fans.

“Well if they start hating me, just let them. I rather have that then having some fake fans you know??” “Plus I’m just here to have fun so what can they do? Mhm?”

- After his reassurance, you agreed and record the video together online.

—— ✿ ——

“heyyy guysss I’m back again to play some roblox BUT this time with some company, guys act shocked act shocked,just kidding. Anyways this time I’ll be playing with my lovely editor~”, his screen showing both him and your avatar, waiting for you to introduce yourself.

There was a long pause. “Um…hi?” You said awkwardly as you don’t have much experience being recorded.

But after a while,you got used to it and the both of you decided to play some two player obbies. At first it was going smoothly, just simple jumps and walks. However, when you guys got closer to the end, the difficulty rises.

“DAISUKE PLEASE DONT MISS THE JUMP OR I MIGHT ACTUALLY BREAK. DOWN.”

“STOPP,YOUR STRESSING ME PRETTY GIRLL”

Your skin tingles every time he calls you that but it didn’t make you feel better. He indeed did miss the jump.

…a very long silence

“Alright,breathe in….and breathe out… We can do this..”

“I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, let’s try one last time before I might actually start raging”

You guys were extremely locked in and passed the final stage miraculously.

“WE DID ITTT (y/n), YAYYY”

“EYY GOODJOBB”

You made your character walk in circles around daisuke’s character and he mirrors your actions too.

You then looked at the time to realise it took almost two hours to complete the obbies, it’s already 1am which is quite alright since we’re used to it but you suddenly remembered you had other ‘important’ plans in the morning and cut off daisuke’s next sentence.

“hmm what should we play next-”

“As much as I would love to continue this all with you but I really have to head to bed right now”

“Ouh finally sleeping quite earlier then usual, aren’t we?”

“well I do have plans for tomorrow, quite important to me heh..”

“Okayy then, have a good sle-” he then pauses, his mind recalling his previous chats with you and the puzzle pieces matched. “Wait, your going to that cat cafe you talked about right??? I do remember you sending me a post about it opening for tomorrow or more like ‘later in the morning’ hmm?”

“Yeaaa, oh wait I did told you about it.”

“Could I go with you,pleasee. It’s not too far from my area and plus you get to meet ‘this gorgeous cool guy’ for first time in your lifeee.”

You felt ??? by the sudden plan of his, “mhmmm sure I don’t mind honestly”

“wait really??” “Ofcourse”

“I’ll text you the details later before I head to bed, I gotta go get myself cleaned up. Do remember to send me the clips before heading to bed. Soo I’ll see you tomorrow then hm? ;)”

“Yupp, I’ll see ya tomorrow. Have a good sleep if it’s possible~”

“Alright, goodnight pretty boy” You immediately left the call and got up from your seat, heading to the bathroom to get a quick wash up.

The excitement for ‘tomorrow’ was rising in you but yet feeling nervous and curious. How tall would he be? Would his behaviour be completely different? The thoughts were filling up your mind.

You head to bed with your phone, texting him about the plans while your allow your body to lay on the bed,sheets covering your body, head against your soft pillow.

“How about we meet up at a metro station first? Then we could walk tgt to the cat cafe? How does that sound to you?”

“That sounds great to me;)”

Daisuke replied almost instantly and brought up about having matching outfits and of course you couldn’t turn that offer down.

“hmm let’s match in colours then?”

“Suree”

“Any colours in mind?”

“Hmm, not really”

“Me too honestly. How about I’ll choose it tmr while I pick my outfit hm?”

“Sure but don’t be too lateee”

“Says the one who rarely reads chats in the morning”

“Man shut it, as if you’ll wake up in time”

“Okay okay you win. I guess I gonna sleep now or I’ll be late right, pretty?”

“Alright, goodnight to you”

“Night to you as well”

A small smile plastered across your face as you place your phone onto the small table beside you.

It def took you almost like an hour to only fall asleep due to your own excitement.

-I can picture daisuke kicking his own legs before having his sleep lol

┊͙ ⋆. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄ ೃ࿔*:･. ˚◞♡ ⃗*ೃ༄┊͙

I think it will take a long while for me to post parts for this,I’m still new to writing and honestly I’m scared I won’t be able to write the next part. Anyways I hope you guys had a little joy in reading this,take care of your health!loveyouu byee~ :o

[agaypanic]

Regina's Barbie (Regina George X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You’re Regina George’s latest project, but her reasoning for fixing you up is completely different than what you think.

A/N: a little drabble based on this ask that i answered a couple days ago bc it keeps getting interaction and lowkey i cant stop thinking about the concept ugh

***

“Hold still.” Regina scolded for what felt like the hundredth time, hand holding your jaw firmly to keep you in place while she put blush on your cheeks.

“Sorry.” You whispered, looking at the wall behind her so you didn’t have to face her intense gaze.

When Regina approached you one day, twirling her perfect blonde hair around her finger as she asked you if you wanted to hang out, you thought it was a prank. It had to have been, because there was no other reason why Regina George would even consider getting close to a ‘nobody’ like you. But when you stuttered out a response, her grin seemed genuine when telling you to meet you at her car after school. Sure enough, she was sitting in her car with the rest of the Plastics, beckoning you to come over and sit in the seat behind her.

Gretchen and Karen seemed to be a bit confused by your presence but didn’t question Regina. They welcomed you, but didn’t go out of their way to make conversation with you while Regina drove to the mall.

When she parked, Regina basically pulled you into shops by the arm, her friends rushing behind you. She thrusted some sweater into your hands, telling you that you just had to try it on. And when you tried telling her you couldn’t afford it, she rolled her eyes, took a credit card out of her purse, and dragged you to a fitting room.

And now you were here, perched on Regina’s bed while she did your makeup. She had insisted that the way you did it was all wrong and that you needed to know the proper way to do it. Gretchen and Karen weren’t here, which surprised you a bit. But you knew better than to question Regina.

“Okay, now you need lipgloss,” Regina said, looking through some of the glosses she had bought you. She opened one and looked at you. “Pucker up.”

You gulped at the demand, but did as she said. Regina grabbed your jaw again, a bit more gently this time, as she swiped the wand over your lips. She bit her lip in concentration as she stared at your mouth.

“Perfect.” She muttered, capping the gloss and taking you to one of her many mirrors.

You hardly recognized yourself, but Regina definitely didn’t do a bad job. She smiled at you through the mirror.

“What do you think?” She asked, leaning her head against yours a bit.

“I look…” It was hard to find an end to your sentence with the way Regina looked at you, like you were a piece of meat. “Pretty.”

“Hell yeah, you do.” She fiddled with your hair, trying to put it in a style she thought would be more suitable. “Oh my god, I totally forgot. We’re going to a party later, so we gotta find something for you to wear.”

“What?” You were a bit taken aback, not expecting to go to a party tonight. Especially with Regina. “Couldn’t I just wear this?”

Regina laughed, and it didn’t seem like that fake, almost mocking laugh she’d do when people tried to be funny with her. It sounded genuine, like she was actually amused by your question.

“No way, Y/n! Wait here, I think I have something you can wear.” She sped into her closet, leaving you to stand awkwardly in her room. Luckily, she came back quickly with a two-piece outfit. Regina went behind you, hands holding the clothes up to your body. “You’d look so good in this. Besides, it’s better than, like, anything you own.”

She kissed your cheek before sending you off to the bathroom to change. It was so quick that you barely registered what had happened until you were already switching your clothes for hers. You caught sight of yourself in the mirror, seeing a faint lip print on your cheekbone. You decided to leave it, not wanting Regina to get mad at you for messing up the makeup she spent practically forever putting on you.

When you left the bathroom, Regina was fixing up her lipstick in the mirror. She turned to you and smiled a bit, straightening up a bit.

“See, I told you you’d look good.” She took your clothes, throwing them on the bed, before noticing the mark she left on you. Regina stepped closer to see it better, soon looking at you with the same hungry look from before. “Keep that, it’s hot.” Then she walked away to change her shoes.

You took a deep breath. This was gonna be a long night.

***

Part 2

[melanated-writersblock]

🪮Beauty Supply Store Run w/ ATEEZ🪮

A/N: For my blacktiny that like to keep their ✨hair did✨, the idea crossed my mind a time or two and existed in my drafts as a title alone for months, so I thought I’d finally add some sort of body and post it🙂‍↕️. Not too terribly long, but I hope it’s still enjoyable nonetheless! As always, likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated!

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ Hongjoong ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ You two were out running errands all morning and this was your last stop before heading home.

⟢ Hongjoong figured he’d go in with you instead of just staying in the car.

⟢ You went straight to the back and got your go to burgundy braiding hair.

⟢ Hongjoong made it his business to buy hair coloring so his hair could match your braids when they’re done.

⟢ When you made it to the register, he got offended that you even pulled out your card to pay and stared you tf down until you put it back up🥴.

⟢ “Please don’t do that again while I’m here.”

⟢ Ofc he whipped out his card and paid!

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ Seonghwa ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ It got to a point where he was spending more money than you🤦🏾‍♀️.

⟢ You already had a plan of attack for what you were gonna buy, but once Hwa saw all the extra stuff the store had he kinda went off the rails.

⟢ Not even half way through the store yet and he was already toting a hand basket full of hair ties, those zigzag headbands that pull your hair back in a wave pattern, mini claw clips, skin moisturizer, eye cream, face masks, lip balm, etc.

⟢ You had to stop him from buying a children’s bonnet because it had animal crossing characters on it!

⟢ “Hwa please, you don’t need all of that!”, “But there’s stuff in here for you too! Look, you just ran out of lipgloss so I got this one and there’s shimmer in it.”

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ Yunho ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ You went in to specifically get more deep conditioner and Jamaican black caster oil with a couple of other stuff for your next wash days, and asked Yunho to keep you on track with your shopping.

⟢ You tried not to stare at stuff for too long bc Yunho likes to spoil you, and it wouldn’t make any sense if you’re trying to be good in the store but he goes and gets the stuff anyway😩.

⟢ He made a joke about buying you your own beauty supply store in passing, but knowing him it wasn’t a joke I fear…

⟢ The store had a sale on crochet locs and he saw the want in your eyes, so he snuck to the back to get 8 packs and paid for it while you wondered back in one of the aisles to get the spray bottle you forgot.

⟢ “I’ll be in the car when you’re done, Love.” Yunho called to you from the register before making a discreet run for the door so you couldn’t see his surprise.

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ Yeosang ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ He’s a yes man I fear…

⟢ You knew you wanted to do a protective style, BUT you hadn’t decided which style you wanted to do yet, so Yeosang proposed the idea of “letting the hair god decide”, which meant you’d think of a style while shopping…bless his heart🙂‍↔️.

⟢ He didn’t know there were levels to this shit so now y’all have been in the store for an hour looking through different types of hair.

⟢ “If I get these bundles I could do a sew-in,” “That would look so nice!” “Waaaaaiiittt, if I get another pack of double strand cuban twists I’d have enough back home to do faux locs, should I?” “Yes you should,” “I gotta do waist length box braids immediately.” “You have to, and they need to be waist length exactly!” “Or should it be a bob?” “Yes, get a bob!”.

⟢ He’s just happy to be gang forreal😭.

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ San ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ The first time San went to the supply store with you, he didn’t know what he was expecting but he was gagged.

⟢ He thought he was on top of the names of the hairstyles you would wear…

⟢ Imagine his shame when you admit you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him he was wrong several times.

⟢ You gave him a crash course on your most favorite styles right there while walking through the aisles.

⟢ San has Pinterest open and at the ready with every namedrop.

⟢ “So the goddess locs aren’t passion twists,” “Right.” “And passion twists aren’t bantu knots.” “Exactly!”

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ Mingi ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ Like a kid in a candy store.

⟢ Was vibing to the radio station, and kept pointing out the wall posters with different hair models on them, “You’d look so good with this style!”

⟢ Keeps holding up different packs of braiding hair colors to the side of your face, and you can’t help but laugh “Boy, what are you doing?” “I’m doing a color evaluation on you like in those youtube videos!”

⟢ The hair store turns him into a yapper, he even started chatting up the owner.

⟢ He kept going back and forth between the aisles and the front register, and had a full conversation happening with you and with the owner…AT THE SAME DAMN TIME.

⟢ But by the time you were ready to check out, someway…somehow…you ended up with a big ass discount😝!

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ Wooyoung ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ Wooyoung made it his business to accompany you to the hairstore the next time you went after you returned home with $264 worth of stuff last time.

⟢ Crazily enough, you were only in there then for a new rat-tail comb cause you broke the last one in the middle of parting your hair.

⟢ He pushed the cart while you walked the aisles, following your eyes and what they were landing on.

⟢ “Aht! Aht! Put it back.” Wooyoung scolds you, pointing at the empty spot below the wig wall. You groan before putting the honey balayage Latisha unit back on the hanging rack.

⟢ “But Latisha is always sold out when I come up here though,” “You’re here for a new hair dryer and Eco Styling Gel, and “Latisha” is not one of those two things.”

⟢ You stare at him annoyed as he blows you a kiss, “I’m leaving your ass home next time.”

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ Jongho ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

⟢ A PRO✨

⟢ Your Jongiebear is not new to this, he’s TRUE to this!!!

⟢ He came over to your place to spend the weekend a while back and saw you in action doing your own twists.

⟢ He was curious and wanted to know more, so you spent the evening telling him hair stories and the importance behind it and what it means for you, he’s been enlightened ever since.

⟢ He made a playlist on youtube full of tutorial videos for various hairstyles, so he can “help you with your hair” but it’s also to spend more time with you.

⟢ He has golden hands and you literally only trust him to help you install or take down your styles when you do them at home now.

⟢ He was installing your bubble braids with your leftover packs of hair, but half way through you ran out.

⟢ He initiated the trip himself, fully determined to finish the style in the span of 4 hours like the youtuber said it would be. And you walked in that store grinning from ear to ear.

⟢ He knew the brand, texture, color, and length, don’t play with him😮‍💨.

⟢ You were gonna pay but he was so in his zone, you had to let him have his moment. He paid for the packs, and the bubble braids came out 👑FLAWLESS👑!

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹ Hope you liked it! Lemme know your thoughts🫶🏾 ⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹.Masterlist.⊹ ₊ ❤︎₊ ⊹

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