#i was trying my hand at backgrounds and welp! not anymore!

[circlesroundthemoon]

computer crashed.....

[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.

[yougavemeyourheartyouknow]

Love me or hate me, both are in my favor (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic Rivals AU])

Y’all ready for Miguel to finally kiss (Y/N)’s ass??!?!?!? Not proofread enjoy lol, I had a lot of fun writing this. I tried to be a bit artsy near the end it it’s too cringe I’ll probably delete it and redo it lmao.

Cursing, Miguel finally getting his shit together, lol he’s ooc but it’s okayyy lol

(Y/N)- Your name, (L/N)-Last name, (N/N)-Nickname.

Word count: 2.1k

Series Masterlist Series Playlist

Chapter 12: What a wicked thing to say, you never felt this way

—

You hated to admit it, but you kind of missed throwing away those stupid little apology notes from Miguel. Oddly enough, they had stopped appearing on your desk the day after your last little “date” with Spider-Man. Though you doubt there was any correlation, you couldn’t help but wonder why all of a sudden he would stop after what was about two or three weeks of nothing but notes after notes of apologies.

“He probably realized that you aren’t going to forgive him and decided to finally give up.” Mj’s voice sounded through your phone speaker, lying next to you as you laid on your stomach on top of your bed. Checking over your new manicure you had just received that morning, before letting out a huff as you dramatically dropped your head down on the mattress.

“Can we stop bringing him up? I don’t need reminders of his existence, not like I didn’t have enough reminders before…” You grumbled, you're sure if she was there with you she’d roll her eyes at your theatrics.

“I feel like we talk too much about you two.” She teased, the end of her sentence trailing off in a chuckle.

“Yeah because now that you're dating Peter, I can’t tease you about how you act like a nervous wreck around him anymore.” You shot back, picking your head back up and raising your brow, your smirk evident in your tone.

“Don’t be bitter that I got a boyfriend before (N/N), I’m sure spidey will ask you soon enough.” Your cheeks flared as your best friend tease, despite you starting it first you couldn’t help but feel yourself becoming a bit more shy at the mention of Spider-Man. You know not to take it to heart though as you let out a small laugh.

“Hey aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for that date right now.” You point out, having remembered that she mentioned to you during your last class together that Peter was planning on taking her to some movie after his photography club.

“Oh shit- you’re right! I got to go, I’ll text you later!”

“Okay bye have fu-aaaand she hung up, welp.” You drop your head on your bed once more after grabbing your pillow to place underneath you. Deciding taking a nap would be better than spending the next few hours doing something else, too tired from school to even attempt to watch a movie or tv show, let alone read or do homework. A sigh escapes through your nose, closing your eyes as you snuggle against the pillow, waiting to succumb to your own exhaustion. The white noise of your air conditioner running in the background lulling you to sleep.

—

“Maybe this is too on the nose…” Miguel mumbled to himself as he glanced down to the wrapped item in his hands, trying to compose himself as he stands in front of your dorm room, gathering the courage to knock.

It was almost embarrassing, that he was going to grovel at your doorstep in order to get you to even look at him again. He was already bruising his ego enough with the countless apology notes that you didn’t even bother to glance at for longer than a second before tossing them, let alone read. Still despite his… complicated feelings towards you, he’d rather you bruise his ego then anyone else.

His eyes came back to stare at your room number that was etched into your door, before nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

You were a smart girl, a very smart girl. Miguel knew that. So he knew he was potentially playing with fire with his apology gift, he knew more than anyone else how your brain worked, he knew that you could take one glance at it and all the pieces would fall in place. He just hoped that for one, he would wave away any suspicions that you might come up with. Worst case scenario you outright declare him as Spider-Man, but then what? You weren’t one to tell secrets, you weren’t money or fame hungry so you weren’t going to go off and tell the media for a check.

Miguel shook his head, trying to shake away all the possibilities that were now coming to the forefront of his mind. Close his eyes to take in deep breath before opening to them once again to stare at your door.

‘If I keep thinking about it, I’ll end up walking away, just knock damnit.’

Finally, with a sharp exhale through his nostrils, he brings up his enclosed fist to tap lightly on your door. The edge of lips pulling downward after not getting any confirmation that you heard his knocking. After another louder knock, his ears finally picking up the faintest of annoyed groans, making his tensed shoulders slip down just a few centimeters.

Miguel thanked whatever dumb constructor decided to not give the ancient dorm building doors peepholes, because if they did, he knew you wouldn’t have opened the door for him. That’s why he stuck his foot out to act as a stopper, preventing you from closing it in his face once you realized who had decided to interrupt your short lived nap.

What a relief to be able to see your face up close with the mask on to counsel his. Despite the fact that your fake polite smile quickly melted away from your face once you realized who was at your doorstep, leaving a scowl to come and take its place. Miguel barely had time to open his mouth before your frame was once again covered by the wooden door, his school assigned leather shoes certainly getting scuffed from it hitting the side of them. Not even wincing as you attempted to push his foot out with resting your weight against the door.

“(L/N), Come on. It’s been weeks, you can’t keep ignoring me. Just… I-I know I fucked up okay? You were trying to be civil with me and I… Look I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry.” His free hand came up and pushed against the door lightly, not enough to knock you off your balance or anything but enough to peak his head through the door to meet your glare once more. “You know more than anyone else that I don’t do serious apologies. Just hear me out. You’ve-You’ve already got me begging here (L/N), to just be in the same room with you so I can admit I’m an asshole. You don’t have to forgive me, just hear me out! Please-“

He was able to squeeze himself through the crack of the door, closing it before him and leaning against it as he attempted to catch his breath from his babbling, chest raising up and down rapidly as his pleading eyes turned a bit more intense, you took a step back and crossed your arms over your chest, letting out an irritated huff as you kept your eyes on him.

“Get out O’Hara-“

“I’m tired of you ignoring me, what do you want me to do, huh!? You and I are too intertwined into each other’s lives for you to ignore me forever. You know that-“

“Unfortunately.” You grumbled under your breath, rolling your eyes a bit. Miguel, now standing up straight, took a step towards you, a hand flying to his chest as usually narrowed and bored eyes suddenly turned wild and frantic almost like a confused puppy.

“I-“ he paused, letting out a huff, before lowering his voice down to just above a whisper. “I’m not going to leave until you listen to me please just-“ He stutters, taking another pause as his eyes flutter shut tightly, you haven’t even noticed that his eyes were turning glossy and red until he opened them again, had you ever seen Miguel cry before? Well if you hadn’t, this might be a first for you both. “Please (Y/N).”

The use of the first name between you both was rare, you had been in more near death situations then you’ve heard your first name uttered from Miguel’s lips. So hearing it with such… desperation… it made your heart jump up to your throat. Your eyes never leaving his as he took another step towards you and… oh my god… is he kneeling?

“Please I-“ He choked out, the wetness that was threatening to spill out from the corner of his eye finally came down, his hands reached out to yours in desperation, you were too much in shock to think about pulling them away as you blinked down at him almost stupidly. “I can't… take it anymore. I feel like I’m going mad.”

He was being completely truthful with that statement too. He was jealous of his super powered alter ego from getting more attention from you then he was just as himself.

You finally pull yourself back into the current moment, clearing your throat as you shake yourself to help gather your words, neither of you noticing during the whole ordeal that Miguel’s apology gift had landed a few feet away from the door. Tugging at his hands as a signal to get up and off the floor. “O-okay, okay fine. Just-get up Miguel, Jesus…”

You wanted to keep holding onto this grudge of yours, but how could you when you had brought a man who is twice your size and four times your ego down to his knees? Reducing him to nothing more than a crying begging mess. Simple answer, you couldn’t. Whether it’s simple petty or if you felt like you were truly ready to hear him out, it honestly didn’t matter to you anymore. It’s clear from his breakdown that he had suffered enough.

He let out the biggest sigh of relief, sniffing a bit as he finally brought himself back up from your floor. A large hand of his coming up to wipe away a few lingering tears of frustration once he was up on his feet again. A silence fell over you both as you gave him a few seconds to collect himself properly before he could start explaining himself. Finally, with a clearing of his throat, bloodshot eyes met yours.

“Look, I know that… we haven’t been anything more than tolerant of each other… but I should have never,” his hands went to find yours again, grasping tightly as if he was afraid that you’d disappear in front of him. “Ever. Said that stuff to you. It was… too much even for us, if I could take it back, I would. I have no idea what snapped in my mind to say such vile things to you, it was wrong, it was stupid-so stupid-and I regret it. Regret it more than anything I’ve ever done in my life. You don’t have to forgive me, I don’t expect you to. Hell, say the word and I’ll walk out of here and I’ll disappear from your life forever. “

You have honestly never felt so speechless before. Miguel has never made you feel so speechless before.

“But god do I want you to forgive, to take those words back. I'll do anything, and when I tell you that I’ll do anything, I mean anything.”

You couldn’t help the breathless chuckle that escaped your throat, uneasiness bubbling up in your lower gult, despite laughing being your first reaction, you could tell he was all but joking. Your tongue stuck out to lick your suddenly dry lips.

“I can tell you’re being quite… erm, serious, so,” you pause, inhaling the tense air in hopes it’ll help calm your nerves, “I accept your apology.” Miguel took a deep breath to keep himself from turning into a babbling mess again, he could feel that heavy pressure on his chest filling up, he could finally breathe agai-“but I don’t forgive you.” He could feel his airways clog back up, he felt like he was blue screening as his ears heard the words but his mind didn’t want to accept it. He wants to do nothing more than to grovel at your feet again for you to take those words back.

But he couldn’t, it made him a little happier to know that there is something he can build off of, still as he finally was able to drag himself out from your room after putting on the facade of countenance , he felt the need to release all his pent up emotions out. He wanted to cry till his tear ducts stopped working, sob till his throat felt raw. But he couldn’t get himself to do it, his body simply wouldn’t let him, refusing to undo all of his years hiding his emotions more than he’s already done in your room, you're the only one who could make him feel again. What was that book his class started reading last week?

He felt like he had no mouth, and he had to scream.

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @strawberryjuice9 @loser-alert @maomaimao @franceseca-the-1st @mcmiracles @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @yournextbimbogf @tinybirdhideout @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini @cowboylikeevie @thedevax @codenameredkrystalmatrix @reader-1290 @laysmt (to be added click here)

[kaija-rayne-author]

I'm doing a series of reviews as I play Dragon Age Veilguard. One or two posts a day, whenever I can play.

This is installment one.

Can't remember if I mentioned that a lovely person gave me a copy of DAV. And I'm so very grateful I can play close to release. So I can do an unbiased review series.

Something came to my attention. I need to make it crystal clear that I utterly love the diversity in DAV. It's fantastic. I'm also a heavily left leaning, non-binary, queer as fuck reviewer, editor, and author.

I'm on media blackout while I play this, so I'm only getting second-hand info on how awful it is right now in the DA Fandom. Please be safe and take care of yourselves. Arguing with incels and white supremacists is completely pointless. They sea lion worse than an actual sea lion. Your mental health is important.

Though, every single time the anti-queer brigade comes out for a new DA game, I sit there thinking 'have you bozos ever played any DA game, like, ever?' My guess is nope.

I'm seven hours in. (2 in CC so 5 playtime.)

Spoilers for DAV. Dragon Age Veilguard

Also, this is all my off the cuff writing. I haven't the time, energy, or desire to edit them.

Five hours in... I can confidently say welp, it's a game. It is indeed a video game.

I don't hate it? Most of it? Can't say I love it, either.

Background and environment folks did a fantastic job. And I was pretty sure they would. That part feels like Dragon Age. Except for the floaty spaceship thing in Minrathous. Intentionally not saying what it's supposed to be, because they do tell you.

Baddy design is as bad as I feared. If not actually worse.

I totally called it on several points, which gods escaped, for one. The fact that those 'demons' were gonna give me a headache, too. And the whole Solas Varric sitch.

CC is pretty good. Nothing ground breaking, but people should be able to make a character they like? You can make a good redhead.

I like the new codex design. I still preferred DAO for that one. Aaaannnnd I've already caught a couple editing errors in the text.

Extremely thrilled that my non-binary ass can be non-binary.

Yes, you can actually make a (slightly) pudgy character.

That is still not Solas. And you can't try to tell me I'll probably like him once I see him in game, anymore. I don't. He does still move the same, so they got that right. Still has the subtle humour, too, which, since Weekes wrote him, makes sense.

They were right, the characters do look better in game.

AND THAT IS STILL NOT A FUCKING DARKSPAWN.

My youngest kid just glanced at my screen and did a double take with a 'Ma? Why are you playing Fortnite?'

From the mouths of babes. He's right in that Fortnite player age bracket, FWIW. And no, he has no interest in playing Dragon Age. No matter how much they made some of it look like Fortnite.

Not feeling any of the romanceables, yet. But I've only met Neve, Lace, and Bellara. Alas my poor bisexual heart. None of the women do it for me. That may change, it's still very early as per in-game events.

I'm going to stick with it to see if it'll actually catch me up. Because it sadly has not, yet. By an hour in on my first playthrough of DAO, I was head over heels for Alistair. By 1 hour into Awakening, Anders had me. By hour 3 in DA2? Anders and Isabela both had me. By seven hours into DAI? I was very much in love with Solas, though I was playing a guy because I wanted to Romance Dorian first. (Still really loved Dorian.) But yeah, that bloody elf had me first, and I think it was at the first damned scene with him in it. Which is roughly an hour or so in?

I'm intensely curious about the story, and it's why I was so desperate to play it. So unless it somehow utterly offends me, (worse than those not-fucking-darkspawn and what-the-actual-fuck-are-those-demons already have) I'll finish it. Unless I lose interest. It's at least worth playing so far. I don't feel like I wasted the seven hours.

Fighting is reasonably easy to adjust to. And it'll be more fun when I get the hang of it. (For me, I usually don't have a lot of trouble picking up new fighting systems in games.)

Oh, and it took Astarion BG3 half an hour. 🤣

Please no spoilers if anyone responds. As I said, only seven hours in.

In case you're interested, here's my predictions piece.

And here's the second part in my ongoing review as I play series.

[dinitride-art]

Lighting and Mike and Will - Full Analysis (pt.54)

Welp. Let’s just dive on into the rest of this scene then. Mike might actually be possessed or being used as a spy. Will might be getting targeted by Vecna. There’s weird shit happening in the background. But I said I’d get this done. 

S4:E9 - The Cabin Scene (#3) AKA Possessiongate pt.2 Electric Boogaloo

So, these aren’t OTS shots anymore and that means that Mike and Will’s conversation has evolved to a point of mutual understanding. They do in fact both agree that this man has to die. Now that it looks like Vecna is targeting Mike and Will can tell, maybe that’s why Will’s kind of freaking out a little bit here. Like saying Vecna/One/Henry needs to die isn’t that shocking. But usually Will is nicer about it. 

Why. Why is that thing in the doorway changing shape? At least Will’s kinda half glowing. But that doesn’t make up for the harsh white light on his back. Or whatever’s in the window in the background. It looks a little bit like the piano in the attic at the Creel’s house. Just a bit. 

Yeah this is fucking horrifying thanks. (the way the pattern is on the blanket reminds me of Vecna’s face and I hate it). But there’s a yellow shower curtain behind Mike and he’s once again lit by having the light behind him. But not on him. 

Y’know? There is absolutely no fucking reason (there very much is- it’s Vecna and foreshadowing and suspense and it’s done in a very cool way) that THIS BULLSHIT HAS TO HAPPEN with that door. 

Maybe Mike’s holding onto Will so tightly because something is very wrong- with the both of them- and he’s trying to keep Will safe and tether himself back to reality as well. Mike’s hand is in the light- nevermind. That’s Mike’s left hand. The Vecna associated hand. And it’s in harsh white light. Also- why does it look like there's a white curtain by the ‘no longer a room’ room? There’s a broom by that room as well. And Mike had a broom by the couch. Hm.

Then they get broken out of whatever’s happening here. And we can see Mike’s heart pocket again. And the light comes back. 

It’s still a bit iffy, because we only have on point of light in frame now. The side ones have been cropped out. But Mike and Will are both in the light. And I think that’s a good thing.

Mike’s almost fully in the dark, and Will’s the one who has light behind him now, but the fact that we can see Mike’s heart pocket again, when we couldn’t before, makes it seem like we’re okay now. 

They look very alarmed at this moment. But that could just be related to the noise outside- the last time they heard cars pull up somewhere they though they were safe they got shot at. So. This would be a warranted reaction to such a noise. But something very bad almost might’ve just happened in this cabin. So that’s also a reason to be alarmed. 

Will’s quicker to get moving while Mike sits there for a second. Just staring at Will. If Mike did have an evil evil man with evil evil plans try and take over his mind and use him as a vessel to get to Will, then momentary confusion and shock would be an expected response to that situation. Mike usually moves first, now that I’m thinking about it. So this is a little odd for him.

There’s a square on that blanket. And Max’s hospital gown also has squares on it. 

Mike, who really usually is the first person to say something or do something, is trailing behind Will. 

And then we don’t see Mike come up and look With him. But we do get this creepy stalker shot of Will. So, Vecna’s definitely aware he’s here.

And then just the contrast between how Nancy and Jonathan are lit, and how Will is lit. Will looks like he’s hiding from something that’s trying to kill him (very real possibility) and Jonathan and Nancy just look normal. 

Sure, they’re concerned. But they aren’t ‘stalker shot, something is very wrong with my best friend who I love very much, harsh lighting, I look like I belong in a horror movie’ concerned. And Will’s known Vecna has been alive at least since the hospital, so what ever freaked him out was in the cabin. 

And Nancy and Jonathan just finished boarding up one of the windows. 

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[mistresswriter19]

~SAVE ME! Buddy X Reader NSFW ~ ( Immortal Idiot/Revelations)

Author: I'm baaaaack with another oc of Spritzypop's his name is Buddy I really love his characteristics and how he's bitter but can also be sweetheart. He's in another Webtoon Revelations before he was in Immortal Idiot but for this one shot he's gonna be the detective in the Immortal Idiot series. And smut warning enjoy ^^

You were getting ready to finally ask the man you were eying for so long to go out with whom you can say " A Date". However in the newspaper you try not to glance because you were always involved being the damsel in distress and many men even the bad guys had to save your ass. It wasn't that you didn't do anything it's that you were the type of girl who end up in the wrong situations. Made you embarrassed but you did admit those times you were a damsel made you feel special. However this time you're not going to you especially not for tonight. You went to walk closer and knock on the door with two taps to see if he was still there.

Y/N: Buddy… are you here?

Buddy: Who is it?

Y/N: It's a local resident who sometimes attends church.

Buddy: Come in

You thought to yourself that was easy but what were you going to do when you face him? You knew a little about Buddy's background that he's a priest and also a detective on cases and another thing you couldn't put your finger on as you step closer then your face flushed when you saw him. Buddy had black hair, that always on place can be messy after a few drinks, he always wears a cross around his top either it was the priest robe or one of his comfy purple and black sweaters. Buddy always seems to be very sleep deprived behind closed doors.

Buddy: Oh no….

Welp looked like he knows who you are based on the papers and news you just have to try to roll with it.

Y/N: Nice to see you too Buddy

Buddy: Out of all the people in this forsaken world She has to appear in my room.

Y/N: I'm not that bad okay you see all these rumors but you don't know the real me which I'm right here ( Does a pose )

Buddy: I see… state what you want I'm about to close up

Y/N: Buddy I know you been depressed drinking your sorrows away but I was thinking maybe you and me maybe can go out for tonight.

Buddy: -.-

Y/N: Just the two of us

Buddy: -.-

Y/N: Like a hang out get to know each other better

Buddy: Eh okay but only if it would lead you stop barging in my room!

Y/N: OH THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!!!!

You were so happy your embrace your arms to Buddy giving him a tight hug but you pulled away looking on the ground and decided to run.

Y/N: WHY DID I DO THAT, I'M SO STUPID NOW HE THINKS I MAYBE CLINGY UGH Y/N STOP IT!!!!!!!

Back in the church!

Buddy: She is something… but she's not her

Buddy kept looking at the picture of his ex wife that cheated on him many years ago. He loved her deeply. Y/N kind of reminds him of how he used to be very shy, but a little bold even at the end it made him embarrassed. Now Buddy doesn't have that side of him anymore he drinks to forget but it doesn't help, he's a detective catching serial Killers like the one called " The Masquerade Killer ". Buddy has been trying to capture him for years and still no luck, but his main job is being a priest and casting many exorcists to stop ghosts, and demons rising. The one that gives him shit everyday and is stronger than him was the devil's right hand man Callisto ~. Buddy went to his bed laying there the tiny voices in his head making him hard to sleep and much work that hasn't been finished.

Buddy: Just for tonight I'll go

Heading in to take a shower Buddy decided to put on his detective gear on the usual tucked in shirt with dark blue tie, matching dark blue pants, black dress shoes, combing his black hair, putting the cross on his pocket, and putting his coat and hat on when he was ready.

In Your Apartment

You put on a very tight sexy dress that barely covers your legs but that's how you wanted it to be and to impress Buddy I mean what's wrong showing some attention. You then place on your f/c heels,f/c all the way down, putting on red lipstick did a twirl.

Y/N: Girl you look so hot!

You said trying not to lose it just play cool as you grabbed your purse head out to the place where Buddy wanted you to meet him. Buddy got there first of course taking a glass of bourbon and looking at his watch to see if his date was coming. You finally came and wave your arm up high like a fangirl as Buddy waves back as you proceeded to walk to him you trip on your heel falling on the ground.

Buddy: Are you okay?

Y/N: Oww… Yeah, I just never wore heels before.

Buddy: Maybe you could have worn shoes

Y/N: Nonono heels is what most girls attend to wear especially on dates.

You said holding on the table almost fell but this time Buddy grabbed your hand for balance which made you flushed a little.

You saw the outfit Buddy wore wasn't his usual purple sweaters but it was so damn hot it felt like you were burning as you used your hand to fan yourself. He dressed like a cop, how romantic.

Buddy: So

Y/N: Sooooooo

Buddy sips another of his drink

Y/N: Tell me about yourself it made be interesting

You said your hand resting on your chin proceeding to make sure your cleavage was well exposed and you rubbed your legs together for attention to Buddy but he wasn't buying it but he did answer your question it was a start.

Buddy: I live alone, I'm a priest and I try to make people feel better when they convince their sins, even if some don't deserve but who do I care

Y/N: Right… well I live alone too and I'm a writer and I'm trying to go more for crime and action and at my spare time I like to

Buddy: Read smut novels?

Y/N: Uhh I was going to see sweet romance vanilla

Buddy: The books you carry sometimes have an appealing cover literacy. I would suggest to hide cover or maybe read using your arms to make sure no one reads the title

Y/N: I have urges sometimes annnnnd I like that kind of stuff

Buddy: Just try not to show them in public lots of people judge

Y/N: Alright, would you like to order

Buddy: Sure

Y/N: Ohhh let's have the Spaghetti dinner

Buddy: Ehhh… it's delicious but don't you think it's messy

Y/N: Yeah but it's great to eat it with someone on a first date

Buddy: I don't know it's not classy eating Spaghetti in public when thousand of eyes staring down to your soul

Y/N: Oh it's a full moon tonight, that's lovely!

Yes you were very oblivious whenever Buddy tried to stir something serious or had the brain of a goldfish.

Y/N: Sorry what were you saying

Buddy: Spaghetti sounds great ( Fake smile )

Y/N: Two spaghetti dinner Garson!

Buddy: Just go with it then this date will be over.

The two Spaghetti they ordered were out as Buddy went to pick up his fork. He saw how you were slurping on the noodles made him want to throw up and was surprised you would eat that way in front of thousands of people who would mostly order salad or drink wine. You enjoy the meal. It was food that was from somewhere with high class and the way the pasta was prepared made you want to cry tears of joy.

Y/N: Mmm this is so good! I wish I lived in this restaurant. Aren't you going to eat

Buddy: Truth I

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

A scream could be heard miles as you saw people dressed elegant had faces of tears when they shows pink globs of spirits roaming around the air and black shadows appearing from closed doors. Buddy was calmed and ran to find a place where he can perform a exorcist but one thing he forget his date.

Y/N: AAAAAHHHH BUDDY HELP! HELLLP HELLLP!!!

You said as you started running and screaming from the demonic looking blobs chasing you. You went grab your fork trying use it as a weapon but that wasn't going to do any good. You went to hide under the table hoping they go away but it didn't work. You felt your short dress being lift up with your panties exposed the pink slime runs over your leg as you shaking it all out while screaming in terror and calling out for Buddy

Y/N: BUDDY! HELP MEEEEEEEEEEE

In the cemetery Buddy pulls out his cross and enchants a few words some spirits vanished but for the strong and capable demons Buddy had to use something more powerful

BANG!

A blessing rifle the bullets were shaped as mini crosses meaning whenever the target get hit causes them to burn into ash and some there blood pour down like killing a criminal. Buddy attend to shoot his blessing rifle a few time to make sure the demonic spirits stay away he then heard a cry from a distance he kind of forget about his date. She used an officer gun and started shooting with her eyes close not even hitting the target but other objects as Buddy ducks then

Buddy: What the hell is wrong with this women!?

Y/N: GET AWAY!!!!!!

The demonic spirit throws the gun aside as you used your hands to cover your face with a few whimpers but you heard a " BANG " two gloved hands caressed your lower half and holding you tight you look to see your Savior the one who came to save your ass Buddy being your date.

Y/N: Buddy

Buddy: I cannot believe you don't know how to shoot with a gun.

Y/N: I never used one

Buddy: In situations like these you need to start learning

Y/N: BUDDY!!!!!

Buddy: Calm down, hold on

You held onto Buddy with all your might as he shot more spirits from his rifle causing ozze and actually human blood making you scream in terror more and you felt something tug your panties. A creature Buddy turned red because the only last time he saw a pair of panties was from his ex. Buddy used his foot to kick the creature off and place the cross on the face causing a horrible screech the cross burnt the creature's skin eventually dissolving into nothing else. Buddy looked back at his head and continued but there were too many. This is when you had a panic attack and used the blessing rifle but it slipped out of your hand with bullets flying as you ducked you head into Buddy's chest. After a few seconds all the creatures and demonic spirits faded and were shot down. It was quiet since everyone had left. Buddy had a vein poppy out of his head as he looked at you. You still wanted to hold him no matter how much you did and the klutz you were.

Buddy: Your…your…

Y/N: Yes Buddy?

Buddy: ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING!? You would have die if I wasn't there!

Y/N: WELL I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE YOU

Buddy: We'll you should have this was unfinished buisness but no I had to go on this date!

Y/N: Buddy I…

Buddy: JUST SAVE IT! I haven't had a night out for a while and being with a different women who can be an airhead… I had a feeling something like this would happen. I'm not safe to be around with

Buddy was standing near the balcony puffing a cigar to calm himself down. He looked at his hand stained with blood and his hair a mess trying to breath. Until he heard you sniffling which made him feel like an asshole. He didn't understand why would you go out with a guy like who drinks his emotions away, hides mostly in his room, being bitter to people who to help him open up. Buddy sigh and wrapped his arms around your shoulders caressing your hair as you look back with a small gasps.

Buddy: I'm sorry… this isn't on you… I just don't want innocent people like you have to deal with this. Exorcism, detective work, and sleep deprivation. You did lift my spirits tonight Y/N so I thank you for that.

This was the first time Buddy actually opening up to someone he doesn't hardly know of strangers to lovers kind of things. You held onto Buddy more as you back at him and his face flushed in shock when he see your full warm smile.

Y/N: I want to be with you in my life Buddy I know your going through of rough time and I'll be patient but I'm always here for you.

This made Buddy lose as he place his glove hand holding your cheek pressed his lips against yours for a long passionate kiss. You did the same and enjoy Buddy's kiss it he became bitter sweet when you first get to know him. You both went to a nearby hotel where Buddy took off your clothes and starting to finger your pussy his fingers moving up and down to your sensitive pink bulb opening. You kept moaning in between with your hand pressing on Buddy's exposed chest. It felt so good his fingers were like magic dancing inside your warm slick opening he went a little fast as he sucked on your neck making your head fall back on the pillow. You saw the bulge in Buddy's pants as you place your finger in between giving Buddy's cock a nice rub making Buddy groan in between while his hands all the way inside you. Your hair dangled around the pillow mouth dripping salvia and a few tears down your eyes. Buddy finish leaving a few marks and saw you wanted give him pleasure so you had both hands rubbing and rubbing his cock as Buddy felt ecstasy and squirt his cum on your face but he wasn't down with you.

Buddy: I need to fuck you, I can't take it anymore. Take my cock slut~

Y/N: Buddy yes… give it to me give to me now… Ha~ Ahhhh~

You find it more arousing when Buddy use dirty slang while he's about to fuck you. You felt your legs twitch as Buddy spread them out making room and plunged his cock inside your pink bulb entrance making your squeal in pain but pleasure at the same time. He ride you with his thrusts the skin slaping each other as you look back sensitive nipples aching and yelling out his name in between each thrusts he wasn't going to be soft but you didn't mind. You haven't had a good cock in a while and you really like Buddy's. He place his lips into yours kissing you to ease the pain going faster and faster. Your legs wrapped around his waist and his chest against your tits as you moan behind his back when you felt him close.

Buddy: Fuck…Ahhh~ Fuck… I'm gonna cum… Ahh… I'm cumming…

Y/N: Ahh Buddy…. BUDDY!!!!!!

Not a moment soon you felt Buddy's load in between your legs letting his cum inside you and you felt the squirt from your ears making you sensitive even more with your fingers holding his back for support he made a large groan after he finished he then looked back at you in bliss the two of you kissed again. The two of you laid on the bed clothes half on bed and ground cuddling with each other

Y/N: That was incredible your really good on how to make a women feel good

Buddy turned the other as you were curious naked and place your arms around his shoulder to give him some affection but you saw a picture of a different women that Buddy kept holding while smoking a cigar and couldn't help but moan in pain

Buddy: I MISS MY EX WIFE!!!!!!!

Y/N: Maybe this was a bad idea….

End

Bonus!!!!!! Fanart Of Buddy w Y/N. The og is Spritzypop

K see ya ^^

[ghostyiskitty]

YEP hello once again, I've opened tumblr for the first time in a long time-

So, I read my last post, and my main reason for making this update is that, hey, once again I've changed how I'm going to tell the story, and I want to explain how I'm doing it currently (hopefully it won't change again-).

With how much I've expanded on the story/world, Chaos/Tale is really now a handful of stories that all link together, and if I tried to reduce it back down to what it was I feel it wouldn't be as good anymore. Now with having a few different stories, mainly sort of background stories on some characters, I am going to separate each story into parts, such as the first story being 2 or 3 parts, which while I'm here, currently has the first part's animatic almost complete, although I'm going to finish all of the animatics for that story before actually animating it, and also finish planning the entire story/s.

I also just, idk if it was me over-estimating myself, trying to be safe from copystrikes or something, but I have multiple Youtube channels, like separate for music, animation, and gaming/general. Yea-, I've decided to discontinue the other channels, and only upload on my main, which I'm planning on making a video which will have the original intro/prologue I made, as well as other songs I had made, including a re-make of the prologue's music.

idk if I've gone through everything I'd want to, or even properly explained it, but eh. I know I should have gotten more done at this point but welp, I don't plan on stopping, sunk-cost fallacy be damned.

[dreamii-yume]

SPOILERSSS for Twisted Wonderland Chapter 6 : 1-16!!!

*rubs hands* aight it wont take long before genshin has me in its gacha hell grasp again, I just barely escaped this time— NOW ITS TIME TO SEE THE BOIS CHAPTER 6 omg— wtf happened last time lol it’s been too long

So, no voice over because of some problems which is understandable but— meh I don’t feel like reading lol So I’m watching otome ayui translations this time, because im that one dumbass student who skipped kanji class and now i cant read without sounding like im five _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): “what up im yume im way passed 19 and i never fucking learned how to read”

Also watching Hanayura Kanon stream for the rest that’s not yet been translated lol Because he’s very good at voice acting for the characters and he’s funny af lol

- OKAY OKAY— WTF HAPPENED EXPLAIN

- Fun fact : I haven’t watched Hercules yet so I legit don’t know what’s about to come lol

- Aw, that’s cute— We called over Ace and Deuce late at night AND THEY REALLY CAME OVER AAAAA

- I forgot how fckin pure their friendship is _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

- Aight, so we actually have a huge-ass scratch from feral Grim lol That’s just fantastic, isn’t it

- FINALLY— We’re talking about Mickey and the stones my monster cat has been eating with Crowley AAAAA

- “Yeah there’s this bitch called mickey and i took his photo—“

- WE’RE FINALLY TALKING ABOUT THIS. AFTER 6 CHAPTERS.

- Bruh this crystal of blot sounds really dangerous why are we discussing this just now

- Speaking of this crystal, Crowley— you were looking for this crystal in chap one and when we asked you about wtf you’re trying to find you just went— “oH itS NothING.”

- I SUPPOSED ITS NOT NOTHING NOW IS IT

- I didnt see you searching for crystals after every chapter mr. crowley where were you 👁👄👁 dont you think it was weird that you didnt see a single one after like— five blotting incidents

- Oh so its rare i see— BRUH R U SURE ABOUT THAT grim literally found one every single chap LMAO

- Okay okay— see, he may be violent but listen— you aint gonna throw out my fucking cat okay

- Wh— THERE WAS A FESTIVAL!? Im dumb so its not just VDC LOL

- Listen LISTEN— GRIM IS FINE. HOLD UP— NO NEED TO THROW HIM OUT JUST LET ME HAVE ANOTHER LOOK AT HIM

- Aww, Ace and Deuce looked pissed about it too AAAAHH THE TRUE DEFINITION OF THE BOIS

- BRUH NO— ALL THE DORM LEADERS TO GO AND CAPTURE GRIM?? HE’LL DIE

- CROWLEY PLS— WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS, HONEY

- #Grimportectionsquad

- “It’s bout time for them to come” Who?

- FUCKING— CROWLEY STOP SAYING ITS NOTHING— This is why this school is so fucked, you never tell us anything ahead of time _:(´ཀ`」 ∠):

- Aight he left, Ace Deuce hurry help me what you guys got

- He may be a monster but see— the worst he did is eat the whole tuna stack SO PLS HES STILL BABY AND I LOVE HIM

- THATS RIGHT DEUCE MY MAN GRIM CAN DO NO BAD I SWEAR

- HE WOULDNT EVER AGAIN I SWEAR

- Ace ヽ(；▽；)ノ The character development— im so proud of you, son

- THIS IS THE BOISSS— LETS GOOOO

- Fuck this is so beautiful— just me and the bois on our way in the middle of the night to find our MISSING CAT I—

- CROWLEY REALLY DID ASSEMBLE THEM DORM LEADERS AAAAAAA AT THIS HOUR TOO WTF

- BRUH WE CAN TALK

- Kalim Kalim Kalim Vil Vil Vil— Pls we’ve been through so much last chapter ＨＥＬＰ

- Leona…A big fat ｍｏｏｄ honestly lmao

- Ey ey riddle pls— dont make this any more difficult—

- Shut up azul stay where u are all you’ve done is nothing but chaos since you arrive so SHHH

- MALLEUS IS NOT HERE AGAIN LILIA PLS— where is he when we need him the most LOL

- Ortho, your bro where?? Also— SURVIVAL STATUS BRUH—

- YES PLS DONT HURT HIM OMG

- oh i forgot idia lives in his tablet LOL OF COURSE

- Omg he’s in the apple trees still looking scary as shi aaaaaaa pls kitty come home u just had too much catnip

- OH GOD 15m HE’S CLOSE

- “Starting operation” ORTHO WHAT TF

- EY EY EY oh good he’s knocked out sighhh

- Aight I know this has been translated but I can’t help but to look at the original japanese and im just— wtf is RTS and TAS idia i dont understand this advanced gamer otaku language

- But Idia and Ortho really do be speedrunning on who can fucking kick my cat the hardest LOL

- THATS RIGHT IDIA You understand me— Fellow cat lovers unite, Grim is very cute, he can’t do no bad

- …so can i have him back pls—

- Can we just appreciate the fact that these bois are willing to take the risk of getting their heads chopped off by Riddle by doing all this for us??

- If this isnt what you call true friendship then i dont know what this is

- Lol ambrose is going to appear in this festival again and crowley’s prideful ass is QUAKING

- WHY are we not allowed to see him crowley im sure we can handle it— We’re the BOIS. CMON

- Imagine if they just summon a fcuking— magic vet or something lol

- It’s the next day lol

- HAH ITS THE VDC LOSERS BY ONE VOTE SQUAD

- I mean the NRC Tribe— ٩( ᐛ )و

- VIL. what you have my queen

- Vil pls dont remind me that my cat isnt here but thank you for saying thank you i do not deserve—

- AWW THE ADEUCE SQUAD LOOKS SO SAD AAAAA

- Vil i miss the bad bitch but absolute oneesan energy but the apology— yeah are we gonna cry again lol

- AAAAAAHH why am i so proud— THAT vil is apologizing

- You dont need to maam what we had in chapter 5 was a fucking journey i regret nothing

- I swear if rook goes like— bitch that aint beautiful imma bonk him I WILL DO IT dont think i forgot what u did last chap

- Man i love me a man who can openly admit his mistakes MMMGH

- Rook i swear—

- Im glad that we’re not toning down ace’s brutal honesty lol

- BRUHHH I DONT LIKE IT WHEN VIL US TAKING ALL THE BLAME i mean what he said was kinda true BUT STILL

- Cheer up Vil, it’s not like it’s a complete failure anyways (；ω；) it was fun at least

- Hearing Jamil encourage Vil like this feels surreal BUT YES BOI U TELL EM

- What is this beautiful character development

- Ooff way to hit where it hurts the most vil my queen lol

- AAGH IT HURTS VIL RECOGNIZING NEIGE’S HARDWORK LIKE THIS— THE PRIDE I CAN FEEL IT ＣＲＡＣＫ

- Bruh we appreciate Neige’s impeccable smile in this household— REMEMBER WHEN EVERYONE WAS LIKE NEIGE’S GON BE A BAD BOI??? WELP—

- It was me, i was that person and i shall drown in apple juice for it

- Of course, the ultimate Neige simp already knows that lol

- Bruh the background music has no business being this sad　ｓｔｏｐ

- I hate it when vil is right sometimes omg— TRUEEE KALIM especially wouldn’t be able to stand properly on stage after knowing Neige’s own hardships aaaa

- NOO BABY DONT CRY

- Vil redemption arc??? 👀👀 you can help us cure our cat—

- !? Are we gonna get that money promised in that poster?? 👀👀

- WHAA FUCKING WAHAA VIL IS GONNA PAY THAT US??? THE WHOLE 5 MIL EACH??!! VIL CALM DOWN WHAT I SAID WAS A JOKE

- Damn vil is ＳＴＡＣＫＥＤ He really didnt want to owe anyone anything LMAO YES QUEEN

- WHA— KALIM IS ACCEPTING??? OUT OF EVERYONE HERE, I DID NOT EXPECT YOU TO ACCEPT THAT KALIM

- Kalim is making my heart go boom boom again baby boi ✨👁💧👄💧👁✨✨

- HE’LL DONATE IT TO THE RAMSHACKLE DORM BABY BOIIII

- …sumimasen kalim for having a very rundown dorm 👁💧👄💧👁 but thank you for being nice about it lol

- OKAY OKAY KALIM YOU DONT HAVE TO LIST ALL THE THINGS WRONG IN MY DORM PLS—

- THIS IS EMBARRASSING PLS KALIM IM SORRY FOR BEING POOR

- But this man be such a sunshine holy shit i cant even be mad about it lol

- AW YEAH RAMSHACKLE DORM IS GONNA GET A MAKEOVER

- EVERYONE BE DONATING THEIR MONEY TO US AAAAA Were they always this NICE

- Aight adeuce pls— y’all dont have to force yourself to donate my guys (´；ω；`) being friends is enough lol i get it my bois

- Find me a man who can make me feel like this the way Vil can

- Man if only Grim is here :’) he’d be soo happy :’)) you can have all the tuna you want buddy :’)))

- GRIM PLS ADEUCE IS WILLING TO TREAT YOU TO LUNCH BABY

- Bro this is so wholesome omg

- Im sorry but still up to this day, my understanding of Epel’s accent is still　ｌａｃｋｉｎｇ lmao

- Aight they be talking about how Rook already knew that they were going to lose from the very beginning

- The FORESHADOWING LOL The difference with how Rook said “What a wonderful performance” rather than “What a beautiful performance” sigh

- Honestly we gotta respect Rook’s resolve here lol man just knows what he wants

- Rook and Vil’s friendship lmao

- 👁👄👁 …!?

- EARTHQUAKE WTF How dare you ruin such moment—

- WHAT IS GOING ON

- EY WTF DONT DESTROY MY DORM WTF ARE YOU GUYS

- WHAT ARE THESE ROBOTS OUTSIDERS KILL THEM WITH FIRE

- They look like something that belongs to the Ignihyde dorm HUH

- Oh bruh— Vil in his Dorm Leader mode is so cool AND YES I KNOW THIS IS NOT THE TIME BUT wheww~~ Vil YAS QUEEN

- KALIM TOO AAAAAA JAMIL’S 「はっ！」SO COOL

- so SO— the dorm leader’s have a protocol for outsider attacks like this 👁👄👁 OMG THEY’RE SO HOT

- They don’t seem like our bois anymore aaa just pure professionalism at this point—

- GOD I FORGOT HOW COOL THEY ARE OMG

- HEEEYYY OUR DORM IS GETTING DESTROYED WTF ARE THESE GUYS’ PROBLEM

- We were just talking about renovating it too wtf

- AAAAAHHH HOW DARE YOU— VIL R YOU OK

- Bruh i dont know what is going on but dont touch my man’s face

- They’re targetting Vil and Jamil WHY— overblot men!!??? WHERE ARE YOU— GIVE THEM BACK

- I didnt understand what epel said here lmao BUT—!?

- THEY HAVE GRIM TOO FUCK HE’S BACK LET GO OF MY FUCKING CAT

- WHAT IS GOING ON DARLINGS

- BUDDYY >:’0000 Grimmm MY HEART—

- Are they kidnapping the overblot men?? What— the fucking absolute ｂａｌｌｓ on these robots

- God we’re getting absolutely ｆｕｃｋｅｄ in here

- AND THERE’S A CAULDRON IN THE BACKGROUND LOL DEUCE WENT HAM

- BRING ME BACK MY FUCKING CAT— >:’0000

- I thought there’s going to be a festival not a fucking kidnapping event HEY

- Oh 👀 Rook pls help

- AAAHH SERIOUS ROOK IS HOT—

- IS THE OTHER DORM LEADERS CHILLING WHERE ARE THEY KALIM PLS BE SAFE

- OH RIDDLE IS NOT ANSWERING THEY GOT HIM TOO

- Oh ghad they got him during clubs WTF HOW—

- *nervous hornii chuckling* …angry expression silver 👁👄👁 im sorry

- AAAA Dorm leaders actually be acting like dorm leaders is soo cool i cant—

- Bruh the story is all chaos what is this chapter

- Are they gonna get Leona and Azul too what—

- RIDDLE BABY Jesus christ dont overblot like this again lol

- DAMN HE STRONG FOR A SMOL BOI THO

- Whoever made these robots wtf is their deal lol TO BE ABLE TO BEAT A DORM LEADER—

- …Bruh where is our horned friend when u need him

- Silver and Sebek theorizing with dorm leaders but they took Jamil tho?? It’s probably the overblot men they’re after

- Also Malleus is probably good so you two calm down lol Lilia’s probs having tea with him right now

- Okay, Leona how are you going to get captured KING.

- Omg everything is getting destroyed wtf

- AW LEONA SAVED RUGGIE THATS CUTE AND COOL AF

- Bruh leona these are material robots— cant you just turn them into sand lol

- Oh they do have some kind of brand cmon just turn them into sand pls

- WHAT THE FUCK

- LEONA-SAN!? WHY ARE YOU GIVING UP— OJI-TAN!!!

- OLD MAN WHAT—

- *hearing leona whisper his reasons ✋ 👁👄👁 🤚 okay sir im sorry

- Damn Leona acting like a real prince right now— it’s kinda hot 👀👀

- BRUH PLS COME BACK DONT TALK LIKE YOU AINT GONNA

- BRO WHERE ARE THE TEACHERS

- THE BOARD GAME CLUB

- Idia : “bro we just chilling be cool— MY CHESS PIECE“

- “Aight ortho what’s the situation” “ｆｕｃｋｅｄ＂

- So Idia of course knows about this— why does he look like he’s so done lmao me getting the feeling this isnt the first time idia has encountered this situation before lol

- Man i want to see azul in action too but mehh— Idia told him to settle down cries

- LOL WHAT IS THIS KARONE ROBOTS

- Wait— are they taking idia too?? OH IS THIS THE DOING OF IDIA’S FAMILY

- WHERE IS CROWLEY— THE TEACHERS, YOUR IMPORTANT STUDENTS ARE GETTING KIDNAPPED

- AH THEY ALSO KNOW ABOUT THESE STYX BITCHES WHAT— and they’re just letting them GO whaaat

- Sounds to me that this must be idia’s family taking care of the overblotting students?? Like to protect Idia or something?? I DONT—

- “Gather all the dorm leaders” No, sir, they’re already gone besides my sunshine and the horn boi

- Malleus??? 👁👄👁 TSUNOTAROU

- Pls kill the robots they destroyed my place

- AAH UPSIDE DOWN LILIA long time no see lol

- Bruhh the diasomnia students are so lucky to have Malleus as a dorm leader omg

- BRUH LILIA’S RINGTONE IS SO CUTE LMAO

- Kalim sounds so desperate im so sad

- ARE WE— ARE WE GONNA MEET MALLEUS AGAINNN

- Bruh they just goku teleported their way out of the dorm lol

- AAAAHH EVERYONE IS HERE THIS IS SO FUN

- Wait jack is not here lol did they just forget about him wtf

- Oh shit we here too i did not know LMAO

- S-So are we just gonna..continue school like— like these styx bitches didnt just ruin half the school, my dorm, injure my bois, and took my cat or…???

- GASP AAAA STYX IS A BLOT RESEARCH FACILITY WHAAAT

- So that’s why leona and idia be like bro this is not worth it

- O-Oh yeah— they…they didnt know that Vil overblot— PFFT

- Malleus pls information who are you talking about—

- WHO— LILIA MALLEUS OH NO

- Ey, overblot squad are assembled lol this looks so dangerous

- LMAOO Riddle was sleeping on Leona’s lap for three hours THATS SO CUTE

- Where the fck did they take them, ITS CRAMPED AF

- Bro they’re just exposing Vil and Jamil’s overblot that’s supposed to be a SECRET LOL

- Oji-tan can sound so wise and reliable like this if he really tried lol sugar daddy energy

- Wtf these guys never thought that idia was from a big shot family??? They thought it was just coincidence that they had the same family name PFFT

- AZUL AAAA He was right there my guy BUSINESS OPPORTUNITY MAN

- oh. They finally opened— isn’t this the ignihyde dorm what

- WHAT THE FU— IDIA

- Bro— WHAT WAS THAT IT WAS IDIA ALL ALONG???

- WHAT IS THIS CHAPTER

This chapter is a fucking roller coaster like— literal 0 to 100 ＱＵＩＣＣ From having a moment with Vil and the bois to a FUCKING TERRORIST ATTACK LMAO IM HYPED FOR NEXT CHAP—

It’s been so long, I hope they released the next part soon (๑>◡<๑) I forgot how fine these men are lol at least I want to hear their voices again 👁👄👁

[multi-lefaiye]

happy blorbo blursday! if you're participating today I'd love to hear about whatever oc is in the brain microwave as of late :)

OKAY i wanted to answer the Rook Vibes asks first b/c i decided that i'm gonna talk about rook here :D i did talk about them a bit with those vibes, but i want to talk about them more because they are my special little guy.

first up, let me share some art of my baby <3 this is a color palette meme thing i did for them! i randomly generated a color palette and found a random pose and outfit and went wild.

[Image Description: A drawing of my OC Rook in a limited color palette, shown from around the knees up. The palette is primarily made up of shades of blue, with a vibrant red as well. Rook is a lean person with scars littering their skin and large, pointed ears. They have eyes with black sclerae and colored irises, short dark hair, long claws, and sharp teeth. In the drawing, Rook is wearing a loose wrap around their chest and shoulders and a long skirt. They are holding a baseball bat with one hand, resting it on their shoulders, and their other hand is resting on their hip. The background of the drawing is dark blue with a red stripe diagonally across it. End ID.]

ANYWAY so rook is the protagonist of a wip i keep going back and forth on the name of, but for now i just call it 'rook' as a working title. simple title, it's fine. the basic premise of the story is that it's about rook, a monster that's kinda like. some sort of zombie shapeshifter creature. rook was the victim of a violent, horrific murder, and they were resurrected an unknown amount of time later by someone who wanted a pet monster to order around and do his bidding.

instead of becoming their creator's little pet monster, though, rook ends up being found by a local woman named kay, who sees humanity in them when no one else does and takes them in. she and rook become friends, and a large chunk of the story centers around rook, who has no memory of their existence as a human, trying to Be A Person.

however, WELL, rook does know their death wasn't pretty, and as much as they want to be a nice person and have a happy life, they also want some kind of justice (or vengeance, whatever works). another big element of the story is rook trying to hunt down the one who killed them and get their fucking revenge. already a daunting task, made harder by the fact that they don't remember anything about what happened in the first place.

i'm very into stories that center around recovery, mental health, and identity, so that's a lot of what rook's story is. with an added element of "rook wants to do some murder so so badly."

anyway uhhh some facts about rook:

i have a lot of thoughts about rook's powers and the drawbacks of those powers, as well as why they have them in the first place, but honestly that's probably worth a whole separate post. i've thought about making them a void-walker, but i want them to have their own lore. (plus, well, rook is a shapeshifter and void-walkers can't do that)

rook was given their name by their creator, a man who's obsessed with chess metaphors. they're also not the only monster he's created--boy's goin for the whole set. they initially rejected this name, but eventually they come to reclaim it as their own. they make their own meaning.

for a while, rook really leans into the perception that they are a terrible, horrible monster who only causes harm. they refer to themself as a devil and a demon and a bunch of other shit, because there's a period in their story where they decide to be just as monstrous as they were "meant" to be.

i wrote a short story a couple of years ago about rook's murder and all the backstory around that, only to decide later that none of that was canon anymore for the most part. welp!

the actual perfect rook song is louie zong's song pumpkin's revenge. once again, if i had the energy to make something with them based on this song.... it'd be all over for y'all (i'm kidding)

rook loves animals, but unfortunately most animals are afraid of them :(

rook is a shapeshifter, but they don't actually have that much ability to change their physical form without a large amount of effort and energy. there are a lot of things about rook's appearance that generally can't change, regardless of the form they take, such as their scars and sharp teeth.

okay yeah that's my baby <3 i love them so so dearly and they matter so so much to me <3

[aidensm8]

Random vampire AU ramble just cause it was too tempting

Setting:

All the light sides are vampires, the dark sides are hunters

Patton is head of his own vampire manor

Remus and Roman were born human twins (still a prince and a duke)

Janus is a shapeshifter who became a hunter to protect his friend from a demon that friend made a deal with

Logan is the average working human

Virgil is also a normal human who wanted to make a legacy and so he ran away and became a hunter

__

Storyline:

Patton’s is a pureblooded vampire who owns his own manor, he has gargoyles and other newer vampires to serve him

Logan is a regular human who was stressed about work, he one day runs into the dark woods in a fit of anger when his boss and coworkers piss him off

Logan cools down but then realizes he’s lost

A creature finds Logan, severely injuring him

Patton is out on a hunt when he stumbles into Logan. He feels pity and asks Logan if he can try to save him

Logan says “I doubt there’s anything you can do to save me but yes…” while hoping the stranger meant giving him a merciful death

Logan is surprised when he awakens in a fancy room, his wounds seemingly gone. He feels a huge wave of relief that he’s alive but is now anxious of what to do when he goes back home. He’s panicking but tries to calm down to figure out his situation

Studying his surroundings, he notices that the room has no mirrors

His thoughts are interrupted when one of Patton’s “servants” come to check on him. They give him spare clothes and tell Logan that they’ll inform the master that he’s awake

When Patton enters the room, Logan’s worries are calmed. He recognizes Patton as the stranger who saved him and asks him what he did

Patton apologizes profusely and tells Logan that he is a vampire now

Logan is shocked but now trying to figure what to do, how his job would react

Patton offers to let Logan stay with him, to be his advisor or keeper of the archives

Logan takes a moment to think, he has no friends nor attachments to his human life. He has a chance to feel happy, but knows the feeling of guilt from “running away” from his duties will haunt him

Patton reads his emotions, sensing the guilt, and assures Logan that he’s free to start over, to choose what’s best

Patton gets up to leave since he has duties to attend to, but will return to check on Logan later

As time goes on, Logan is feeling settled in his new role in the manor, doing an excellent job at maintaining the archives

Patton regularly checks on Logan to see how he’s doing until one checkup, Logan asks why Patton cares so much about him, why he saved him

Patton’s response brings Logan to tears. Patton holds Logan close, giving him words of assurance and love, and at that moment, Logan silently vows to himself that he will protect Patton with the 2nd chance of life he has given him

—

Moving on to the twins’ side of the story, Roman and Remus are still prince and duke

Roman is crowned prince but recently, discourse has happened and their father, King Creativity, had made some mistakes to warrant the people wanting the royalty removed

The king makes the mistake of pissing off a vampire, who vows revenge against King

King is immediately worried and gets more security on himself

He made the mistake of letting the twins wander alone in the back gardens, where the vampire attacks them

Remus was the intended target since he was the dark duke, seeming to be a perfect addition to the vampires

But Roman draws his silver sword and intervenes

In a moment of spite, the vampire takes Roman with him to the woods, dropping his sword

Remus chases after them, now wielding the sword, and when he finds the vampire leaning over the unconcious form of his brother

Remus fights off the vampire. As they leave, they mockingly laugh at Remus, asking him “Who will take the throne now? Surely, they wouldn’t want a bloodsucker on it”

Remus looks over Roman, realizing that he had changed

Roman wakes up, and now they’re both worried on what to do next. Either way, this was a loss for their lineage

Patton was on his own hunt when he runs into the twins

Noting Remus’s sword, he asks from a distance what was wrong

Patton felt a wave of protectiveness on him, seeing a vampire so close to a weapon that could harm them

Remus is poised to defend Roman, asking Patton what he wants

Patton tries to calm him down to let him know that he just wants to help and explains to them that from what he sees, Roman was a vampire

Roman is panicked at this, but Patton offers to take in the prince

Remus tries to stop this, but Patton argues that Roman needs someone to help him figure out this new life

Roman is also hesitant, but knows that only tragedy awaits them if they return home. He asks “what about my brother?”

Remus withdraws, realizing Patton is right, but knows he can’t return home either so Remus decides that he’s going to pursue being a vampire hunter to protect his brother from other vampires and hunters

Roman is worried about this but Remus assures him that he’ll find a way, as he always does

Patton takes Roman home with him, and Remus takes his leave to begin a new journey of hunting evils, he will be the evil they fear

__

Years pass, and Patton is very protective of Roman as he is like a son to him

Logan also views Roman as a son, and is protective of him, but is more protective of Patton

Remus meets Janus during one of his missions, and they quickly became hunting buddies

Remus figured Janus wasn’t human, and Janus admits

Janus suspects Remus isn’t just a messy hobo, as he noticed that Remus had some grace in his gestures and way of speaking, seeming like he is very much educated though his usual manner of speaking seems like the opposite

Virgil and Janus were old friends

Virgil finds that Remus does have features that seem very much royal, but brushes it off since Remus acted so weird

Virgil doesn’t agree with Remus’s messy methods, but stays nice for Janus’s sake

Virgil wanted to be bold, and so he tries to go on a mission alone

Virgil meets Roman, and is entranced by the vampiric prince

He realizes how much he looked like Remus

He can’t find it in him to attack Roman, and Roman, smelling Remus’s scent on Virgil, cautiously asks him who he is, using his vampiric power of persuasion

Virgil tells him that he’s a hunter who wants to make a legacy for himself

Roman tells him that not all legacies end welp (such as his and Remus’s), and leaves

Virgil takes in Roman’s words, realizing he had a point. He decides to try to find Roman again just so he can talk to him, but for now, he returns to the inn where he meets up with Janus and Remus

He tells him about meeting a vampire and wanting to deal with it alone

Remus wants to come, but Virgil insists not to

Janus convinces Remus to just let Virgil do as he wants, and they leave

After a while, Virgil finally finds Patton’s manor

The servants are alert and attack him until Roman pops in, seeing Virgil, and asks them to let Virgil be

He asks Virgil to leave, but Virgil doesn’t want to lose Roman again

“You can’t lose what you never had”

Virgil looks defeated, but Roman gives him a forhead kiss, “but perhaps one day, we’ll have each other”

Virgil blushes, but is now outside. He leaves, but he finds Roman waiting for him where they first met, and they start slow with small conversations which escalate to “May I hold your hand?” then to “May I kiss you?”

Virgil realizes maybe he doesn’t want to be a hunter anymore. He tells Janus about his thoughts of wanting to settle down, which Janus finds suspicious

So when Virgil meets with Roman, he says he has a surprise for later, giving Roman a quick kiss before leaving

Roman is confused but watches as Virgil heads to the direction of the manor

He is about to follow him but Janus pins him down by surprise, thinking Roman may be a shapeshifter since he looked just like Remus but cleaner

Janus tells Remus to help him but when Remus recognizes who Janus is holding, he attacks Janus to get him off his brother

“Remus, what the fuck, that shifter is using your face”

Remus stands protectively in front of Roman

Remus explains that the vampire was his brother and the reason why he became a hunter

Janus is shocked at this, but calms down as he realizes that this may be a revelation for Remus’s background and motives

Roman and Remus hug as they tell each other how much they missed the other, telling stories of what had happened

Janus is just there, until Remus remembers and introduces him as his boyfriend, joking about the whole “in-laws sure do love attacking each other lmao”

Roman is shocked, but is open to meet the person who had been taking care of his brother in his absence

Meanwhile, Virgil had asked to meet with Patton

Patton agrees and Virgil now sits in his office/grand hall

Virgil explains that he wants Patton to turn him into a vampire

Patton agrees and Virgil becomes a vampire himself

Remus, Roman, and Janus had decided to go back to the town so the brothers can catch up since Roman was very excited about seeing Remus again

Later that night, Remus fell asleep first and Janus and Roman get to talk. It’s a bit tense since their first interaction was a fight

They apologize about the fight before and they find they have many interests in the same field, even having near equal acting prowess

Janus then moves the conversation along to ask for Roman’s blessing in proposing to Remus

Roman is happy for his brother and agrees

Roman is happy to stay the night so he can have more time with his brother

Virgil was waiting for Roman to return at the manor, and when he didn’t return, he got worried. Patton tries to assure him that Roman tends to have little misadventures that last a few days, but Virgil was still anxious

In the morning, he decides to return to the inn to pick up his stuff

Janus and Remus woke up before Roman did and Janus gets to talking about them, and how much he looks forward to Roman being his immortal brother-in-law

Virgil returns and seeing upon seeing Remus and Janus hovering over an unconcious Roman, has his anxieties assuming the worst and he goes feral protective

Caught off-guard, Remus and Janus didn’t stand much of a chance. When Janus tries to ask Virgil what he’s done to himself, Virgil doesn’t respond, carrying Roman back to the manor

Uh…. fuck, this ramble got long o_o

So I’ll pause now, thanks for taking the time to read if you made it down here. I may consider making a part 2 (for when Logan meets Remus, Virgil and Janus making up, Patton being a dad to all of them, etc) but anyways, that’s all for this post

[star-killer-md]

Dream A little Dream of Me Pt. 7

Welp. It’s been uh, a long fucking time. My only excuse is college is hard and also I’m lazy. Anyway, here she be. Thank you to everyone who continues to read this cause I need it to exit my brain and it’s incredibly nice to not just like, scream Kylo porn into the void. 

I hope y’all enjoy and feel free to leave me a comment or reblog or dm if you are so inclined. 

AO3 mirror

Part 8

Warnings: Inappropriate use of the Force, Force sex, angst, nsfw, y’all know the drill

Summary: In which answers are found. 

Ship: Kylo Ren x Negotiator!Reader

Word Count: 6.6k

The room smelled too sweet, the kind that lodged under your tongue and ached in your jaw. It made you long for the silence of your seaside room, made you strangely thankful that Kylo Ren often never filled it. But only for a minute. Because thinking of him reminded you of how you’d woken to an empty bed and cold, damp sheets and that you were certainly not thankful for. 

Meanwhile, Lem Alba seemed intrinsically compelled to do exactly the opposite. 

In fact, once he’d guessed you wouldn’t chew his head off every time he opened his mouth, it never closed again. You weren’t entirely sure if this annoyed or pleased you. But when Lem came to your door and invited you to brunch before all campaign staff were carted off back to the Federal District, you agreed. 

If only to avoid being left alone with your thoughts. 

“Not to grandstand,” Lem babbled between sips of his drink, “but I often feel some of my skills are wasted working just as a personal aide.” 

You glanced up from your plate and nodded, “I think most people in this profession tend to believe that. We’re all a bit insatiable.” 

He chuckled, soft voice melding perfectly with the chatter and bustle of the surrounding tables. You couldn’t help but think that Lem fit in well here, as much as he tried to deny it. His edges blended seamlessly with the velvet and silk background. It reminded you of when he’d plucked you right out of the crowd your first night here. 

“You First Order people have a way about you. Something in the way you stand a bit too straight.”

Something in the way you’re always waiting for the ball to drop. 

“Yes well, I’m not gunning for a power grab,” Lem sighed and rolled his eyes. 

He looked very much like a scorned child and you felt a twinge of remorse, “No, I didn’t think you were.” 

“It’s alright,” he ran a hand through his neat hair and stared at you over the rim of his glass, “I just get so bored of it all sometimes.”

“Mm, me too,” you said around a bite of some extravagant concoction that dripped embarrassingly down your chin. 

You thought of blood and saltwater rolling across your skin and quickly wiped it away with a napkin. 

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought that would be an issue for someone in your position.”

You had to try very hard not to scoff out loud, settling for a disbelieving raise of your eyebrows. Piles of paperwork taller than the Commander filled your head, glowering officers and incessant incident reports—your life nothing more than a series of other people's mistakes that somehow became your fault. Grey walls and meetings that never ended. 

Come to think of it, you’d been bored and tired and frustrated your whole life it seemed. Although, not so much anymore. Still just as exhausted and angry, but less like a pacing animal in a cage. The thought sat uncomfortably in your stomach as you wondered when exactly that had changed.  

Of course you already knew the answer. 

You always were attracted to things that kept you on your toes. 

“Should we discuss this speech I’m supposed to be giving?” you asked. 

If Lem noticed your less than subtle change in topic, he didn’t show it for which you were grateful. 

“Certainly,” he gestured for you to continue. 

“Well, I’ve had it outlined for quite awhile since the powers that be were oh-so specific about the subject matter,” you began, watching Lem grimace sympathetically. 

“Yes, I believe I’m meant to collect a draft from you by the end of the week.” 

The joints in your shoulders popped when you slumped forward, hanging your head against the weight of far too stringent deadlines.

“I’m well aware,” you sighed. “Normally I wouldn’t be so neglectful of the timeline, I’m just having a hard time...focusing.” 

The barely concealed mark on the curve of your neck throbbed as you recalled the massive, decadently handsome distraction that consistently occupied your workspace. Really, how were you expected to get any quality content produced with that dark, looming shadow always poisoning your mind with questions and completely inappropriate fantasy. 

Currently, your entire body seemed to constrict at the notion that it was no longer strictly a fantasy. Your muscles corded taught, pulling like a ruched seam and tugging painfully at the sinew. It felt almost as if you were a marionette with invisible strings controlled by equally invisible hands that tingled as they jerked you about. You got the distinct sensation that someone was watching you, but resisted the urge to turn and look. 

Lem—completely oblivious to your inner turmoil—perked up and offered you a blindingly white grin full of ramrod straight teeth. 

“I have an office I’m more than willing to loan out if you’d like to make use of it,” he said. 

You considered the idea, chewing on your lip. Maybe getting lost in speech writing would be good, you thought. Something easy, something formulaic would do wonders for taking your mind off, well, everything. 

“As long as you’re offering,” you flashed him a strained smile and went back to shuffling things around your plate. 

Lem continued to spew an endless stream of comfortingly meaningless ramblings and you bathed in the sound of it, looking up occasionally to offer a hum of acknowledgement. You didn’t really care what he was saying—whether it was opinions for opening lines or who you should thank first or what color to wear that he thought would bring out your eyes—but you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a friendly conversation with...anyone. 

So you let him talk, and nodded every once in a while and basked in the normalcy, the mundaneness of the scene. Until, of course, the peace was shattered when your server returned with a new cocktail for Lem, who promptly spilled it all over the table. 

You watched it unfold like the audience of a holodrama: the waiter, tall with an abundance of black curls and long fingers extending the glass, their hands touching for just an instant, the scarlet blush that tinted Lem’s ears when he glanced at the man’s face and stared transfixed even as the drink spilled off the table and onto his slacks. 

It felt very suddenly as if you were seeing something you shouldn’t be. 

But the moment ended quickly and quietly, fizzling out with a whimper as the waiter with all his curly hair frantically mopped up the mess. His voice was low and pleasant when he apologized and rushed off to get another drink mixed. 

For once, you had the urge to participate in the conversation. 

“Who’s that?” you asked, flicking your eyes up briefly and then back down to the wet mark on the table cloth. 

Lem shrugged and fiddled with the stain on his pants, “Nobody.” 

And for once, it seemed, he had nothing else to say on the matter. 

It was truly a challenge to keep the amused smile from splitting your cheeks as Lem so clearly tried and failed not to make a complete fool of himself every time said server returned to clear plates. And when a beautifully decorated fruit tart found its way to your table—decidedly marked as ‘on the house’—you were graced with an extraordinarily toothy, childish smile from your dining companion. 

Your chest ached with it, the display of reality. 

On your first night here, you’d thought Lem looked too much like all the other First Order officers you were forced to work with. Thought his hair was too perfect, his suit too pressed, words too cherry picked. 

But here you were again, getting drawn in by these stupid, simple instances of existence in relation to others. You craved the feeling of fading into the background as Lem stuttered whenever he tried to thank the boy with his curls and warm smile. 

It was strange too, to see that people truly did flush and brush hands and chew their lips and smile so freely. For whatever reason, you’d been under the distinct impression that was an exclusively fictional pursuit, saved for holofilms or storybooks. 

Did those things exist in you? Were there times when you’d fluttered the way Lem did now, cautiously stealing bites of his tart, trying to preserve the delicate design for as long as possible? Or had they atrophied and fallen to dust from disuse, nothing more than a vestigial organ, unnecessary and forgotten—ready to pump your body full of toxins at a moment's notice should it burst. 

And that only raised more questions. How incomplete had you been this whole time? How long had you been ignorant of your deficiency?  

And did it matter?

But that was not something you could ever answer. So, you sat back and watched and listened and breathed it in. 

Appreciated from afar this show of innocenceweakness.

You jolted in your seat, shoulders bunching together as if a hand had grabbed you from behind. The double voice rang out in your head, echoing up like it was shouted from the bottom of some pit inside you. You knew that voice though—would know it anywhere by now.  

It was him, of course it was. 

You could feel Kylo Ren like a shroud, a dampening of the outside world. When you listened closely, you swore you could hear the sound of crashing waves, the crunch of sand under boot heels. The smell of salt and skin and bloody water filled your nose. Your chest was burning, a prison for some roiling, angry creature that flung itself against the steel bars of your ribs.

His ribs.

His heartbeat, a pounding and ruthless tattoo.

His feet already moving in time to the beat, carrying him farther and farther— 

Is it? you shouted back.

The words tore at your throat even as you sat in silence at the table. But no response came, instead the chatter of the dining room returned and Lem tilted his head in concern, standing and gathering you up by the arms. 

He pulled you down the poshly ornamented halls, chattering still but shooting glances down more often with his brows furrowed. You let him lead you, thin arm looped around yours, back towards your quarters to ‘help you pack,’ he said. And you didn’t bother discouraging him. 

You already knew the room would empty. 

***

The meeting had been dragging on for quite nearly an hour already. You were seated at the far end of a comically long table staring off into oblivion, eyes having glazed over nearly ten minutes in when one of the relations staff started going on about color coordinating suits. 

Although, you were not completely tuned out. It was very hard to be when just a few seats away sat the Representative himself with his grotesque excuse for an advisor positioned at his right hand. Fortunately he hadn’t spared you a glance, but it was a challenge not to keep one eye on him at all times—to not consistently feel your calves twitch, ready to bolt through the nearest exit. 

You understood now what it must be like for all those prisoners sitting in the Finalizer’s belly—backed into the final corner, waiting for Kylo Ren to swoop in like a shadow and leave them flayed open to be tossed out with the rest of those who have outgrown their usefulness. 

You’ve been trying not to think too specifically about...him since you’d returned to the Federal District, your room here just as empty as the one by the sea. His shirt, the one you’d stolen was still packed neatly into your bags. You thought about throwing it away, or tossing it in the corner for him to find. But then you remembered the bits of torn up packaging and lace and that you would not sink to that level. Physical reminders aside, your head had been blessedly—or maybe concerningly—devoid of any voices that were not your own since your, well, ‘fight’ you supposed was the word for it at brunch. 

Then again, all you ever did with him was fight, but this felt different. 

There were plenty of reasons for the Commander to be angry with you, in fact, you didn’t think there could ever be a shortage. However, this seemed just a little too...petulant for your liking. 

You recalled some of Hux’s old rants. Generally, you’d just let him rave like you were just another piece of furniture in his office, stewing in the same hot, bubbling pot of indignation. You could hear him now:

“He’s a child, a sulking, immature youngling completely incapable of a single rational thought.”

And you finally understood what he meant. 

If only you were allowed to use the silent treatment, but that seemed to be a privilege only for those higher up in the food chain. 

Besides, you were far too classy for such elementary tactics. 

You spat the last words and hoped to the stars that wherever the hell Ren had run off to, he heard them. Which one of you was the weak one now?

It was Lem who pulled you from the dark, brooding hole you’d dug yourself as he caught your eye from across the table. The speakers were switching, a half-hearted applause ringing out in the cavernous room and he flashed you a quick roll of his eyes. You bit back a smile at the way he jumped when Gahl turned to rattle off some inane order and Lem scrambled to take a note down. 

Watching it reminded you of how he’d nearly leaped out of his suit when the waiter boy with curly hair brought by your plates. Jane was his name. You’d discovered it while Lem was helping you pack, happily filling the silence with how he was much too smart to be working as a server.

And as you thought, your traitorous mind led you inevitably back to the looming, black specter that haunted your every waking minute. You would be kidding yourself if you thought you could ever have given the Commander the cold shoulder when truly he was all you ever thought about. Even before, even if it was just to remember how much you despised him. 

Past tense now, you noted worriedly. What a terrifying concept. 

But your brain was moving quickly past that, tucking it away in some far, deep corner to only be touched on long nights when you were up far past the shift in day cycles. 

Now it was replaying your brunch, closing up on a still of Jane’s hand on the glass about to tumble, on the lip biting, starry eyed and heart pounding look in his eyes. And then he was changing, the skin of his hand growing lighter, milky and soft with scattered freckles. 

Then it was your hand reaching out. Your hand slipping on the glass and Kylo Ren—sweet smile on his face—staring down at you blushing like a ripe fruit in summer.  

His lovely crooked teeth flashed behind lips like pillows filled with the softest featherdown.  

The tips of his fingers brushed your hand, light and nervous in that not-quite-accidental way that should have made your heart leap into hyper drive. Kylo’s eye flicked down at the floor, downcast coyly and glancing every few seconds to catch you staring at the pink in his cheeks.

You watched the scene as if through water, some stark, salty barrier that coated him in a film of non-reality. You waited for the star shine look of his eyes to pull you in, waited to feel your hands shake and your pulse race and any number of other inane, fluttery things that you had seen Lem stumble through.

But the sight of it, the look on this man's face—because it was most certainly not Kylo Ren looking at you with honey eyes, sparkling shy dips of nectar—it was...

It was not at all what you’d thought. 

It was revolting. 

It was an antithesis come to life.

It made your skin crawl with the unnatural feeling of it all. 

Kylo Ren’s face was not built to look at you this way, did not contain sickeningly gentle smiles, his hands knew no soft brushes of fingertips.

No, they wielded saber blades and crushed bone and spilled blood.

They tangled in your hair and molded mottled fingerprints into your skin 

His lips were carved from marble that could not comprehend such an innocent up turning, unless it was to mock his opponent.

They sucked permanent brands of ownership into your skin, and made them throb when you thought of him. 

And that was all you would ever want him to do. 

As much as he roused the caged and angry beast that resided in your bones, as much as he lied and withheld and left you to wake alone—

You couldn’t bear this bastardized, cheap imitation that stared at you sweetly.

That was not your Commander. 

That was not your Kylo Ren.

And you would not have him any other way.

That thought sat heavy with you and called to life something in the depths of your being. A fire, red and electric sparked to life. You recalled the vision he’d shown you. Recalled his words echoing:

“All I see is a whore who has no idea what she’s getting herself into.” 

You felt yourself slip into the memory of his hands burying themselves in your flesh. The image of yourself—ruined, marked, and so clearly his—was crashing to the surface of your thoughts like whitecapped waves on a stormy sea. The ache in your neck returned, as though his hands were wrenching your head back to make you watch as he split you in half with his cock. You saw it in incredible detail, the veins of his length sinking into you to the hilt in one long roll of his hips. It stung and made your nerves sing with the pain of taking him. 

It was delicious. 

It fed you the pit inside you like meat thrown to a starving beast. 

This was how he was meant to be taken: painful in his beauty, lovely in his destruction. 

His skin was so warm when he pressed your back to his chest and growled in your ear: 

“So desperate for your Commander’s cock, aren’t you?” 

And yes, of course you were, of course you always were because really had you ever felt complete or whole without him filling you to the brim? But it wasn’t just his cock you needed buried in you. No, you craved him in a way that transcended your physical being. 

Separate. That’s what he told you, that there was something more to you than just your body that could exist outside of yourself, could slip into his head and find him even when you were dreaming. 

And you were desperate for the feeling of his thoughts. For his mind, for whatever it was that let you hear him whispering all the things he could never say aloud. 

His voice in your head was the only thing that soothed the churning in your guts, it was like salve on a burn, cooling like the mint of his breath. The steady beat of his blood the only thing that truly set you at ease. 

Yes, that was your Kylo Ren. 

Possessive and withholding, saying everything in brief glances and the twitch of of jaw. Complex and often painful and perfect. 

You wanted him that way.

And you needed to hear him. 

You couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

Kylo? 

The single word echoed across whatever void your mind was inhabiting, crosses bounds to seek out something on the other end. 

You waited and wanted and— 

And then you were not so alone in your head anymore.

But the meeting room was coming back into focus and everyone was staring directly at you. The large holoprojector in the table’s center showed the first, familiar graphics of your portion of the presentation. From across the table, Lem was staring at you, brows furrowed and questioning. 

“Right,” you said, making your way to the front of the room.

You felt as though you were back in the academy, bland and boring faces all staring up at your false smile. You tried not to focus on them too hard. “As the delegate from the First Order, I’ll naturally be making the announcement of endorsement. This will be submitted to Mr. Alba for review by the end of the week along with the Order’s formal statement of apology.” 

You nodded and the projection moved on, showing the next set of animations, “Now, as I said, these will be submitted at the end of this week, so if there’s any—”

There was a hand sliding up your thigh. It was distinct and massive and coated in leather, the feeling of it so incredibly acute under your clothing you almost choked in shock. But when you slapped a hand down, there was nothing but empty air. 

The crowd for the most part seemed not to have noticed your pause, too caught up in whispered conversations to the side or staring blankly at the tabletop, so you cleared your throat, “If there’s anything you’d like to be included that should be given to me by tomorrow evening at the latest.” 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, the pulse of it clear all the way to your fingertips. Taking a shaky breath you continued to go over the list of other asinine requests, falling easily into a familiar rhythm. Presentations like this were half your job back on the Finalizer. It was home turf, and you were able to flick on autopilot long enough too— 

What was that? you asked incredulously into the void of your mind

Silence echoed, and you glanced briefly around the room, though thankfully you’d looked down at your notes when the hand returned. This time much, much higher. The unmistakable feeling of leather catching on the edge of your panties made your jaw drop. 

You called. 

Kylo’s voice reverberated through your skull, his tone was blank but you could feel the strange mixture of amusement and annoyance that was not yours. It was irritating on a level you’d thought impossible. 

Well I’m a bit busy if you hadn’t noticed, you snapped, grinding your teeth when his disembodied scoff graced your ears. 

You’d think it might be one of the most alluring things you’d ever heard if the stares of so many faceless campaign staffers weren’t pinning you down at the same time.  

Hmm, he hummed, unconcerned or unbothered by whatever was going on outside of the little world that consisted of just the two of you. 

His hand—because that’s what it had to be, his hand, somehow—curled under the hem of your panties, ripping the elastic to the side where it dug painfully into your skin. 

Stop, you hissed it, spat the word at him and tried to will away the fingers that pulled the meat of your thighs apart. 

But they only spread your legs further, a rush of cold air hitting your cunt and tensing your stomach as his fingers drew up up up— 

You’ll just have to keep quiet, won’t you?

And, of course, since you’ve never been all that good about following orders, the second he plunged two, impossibly thick fingers deep into your pussy, your voice caught in your throat. The garbled half cough half moan half wounded animal cry made every head in the room turn to face you.

Even Atreus, whose dead, white blue eyes locked in on your face and never blinked.

You froze, struggling to recall your place as Kylo worked his unseen fingers father into you, coaxing a wave of slick heat to drip from your core. Your hands bunched into fists, nails digging crescent moon holes into the skin of your palm in an effort not to gasp when he hit that lovely spot inside and made your knees threaten to give out. 

Don’t stop, now. Unless you’d like them to know what a little whore you are, Kylo growled from somewhere deep inside you. 

You caught your breath, plastering a smile on your face and taking a sip from the glass of water being offered to you. 

“My apologies, where was I?”

Shuffling through your notes, you picked up where you’d left off with proper terms to use when addressing members of the Order. You tried not to move, focusing squarely on the projection and schooling your expression—at least you hoped you were. Atreus’ stare never left you now. Like he could smell the lie on your face. Or the way your pussy gushed with ever renewed thrusting of Kylo’s leather fingers, the ridges creating a sinful drag against your walls. 

Well if I’m a whore then what are you? 

From whatever corner of your mind he was lurking in, Kylo chuckled softly. 

Much worse, he mused. 

You bit back a scream when his thumb found your clit, rubbing swift circles with the smooth material. 

But in your head, your voice rang free, and you let out the string of curses you’d been holding back, voice cracking into a whine when he added a third finger. And just as he spread you open, scissored your entrance and glided against your walls, something else opened too, gaped wide and you spilled into it.  

You could see him, but it was a different him, from a different time, walking the halls of the Finalizer. His boots ran out against the durasteel until they came to an abrupt halt and silence filled the corridor. There was a slight tremor in his hand, a minuscule shaking as he gripped his thigh and fell back against the wall, breath coming heavy through his mask. 

It was practiced, the movement of his hand that fumbled with the layers of his robes until his cock sprang free, hard and leaking and with a lovely red flush to the head. Your mouth watered at the sight of his hand stroking long and fast along the shaft, thumb teasing his tip and collecting the little beads of precum that glistened there. 

This is what you do to me, he said. I hear all of it. Every thought you have. I hear how badly you want my cock pounding into you and my hand on your throat and— 

He groaned in your head, the same way you knew he must have in whatever memory you were viewing. Distantly, you could just barely feel the movement of his hand as he jerked himself, hips bucking up into his fist. 

You were not faring much better. The words kept tumbling out of your mouth, sometimes trailing off on a particularly hard thrust of his fingers. Your head spun with this new confirmation. He’d heard all of it. Every frustrated thought, every time you’d goaded him in meetings and hallways and when you’d lie awake— or not so awake—and think about how much you maybe, probably, almost certainly didn't hate him. Not that you hadn’t known, that he could hear you. Not that you hadn’t suspected that it had always been him, not some imaginary replication. That was very clear, but now. Now you had the truth. Now you knew for certain. 

Kylo Ren had always been more than just a dream. 

For so long he had watched you crumbling from afar and said nothing.

And who knew how long he intended to keep you in the dark. 

If there wasn’t a target on your back right now, would you have ever found out?

Kylo, you gasped the words in your head as his thumb sped up in its rhythm on your clit and his fingers stroked your walls, what is this?

You needed to know. You deserved to know. 

And you could feel the words. They were there, right on the tip of his lovely pink tongue, about to find their way past the crooked edges of his teeth, lips loose in the pleasure of you. But the burst of white that clouded your vision and finally made your knees buckle drowned out any truth he may have spared you. Your combined releases flowed thick like heavy metal through your veins as you felt the pulse of him slowly fading from your mind, slipping from your grasp. 

Your hand shot out to grab the table edge, holding yourself upright as everything in your mind went blessedly, horribly quiet and the room grew much louder. Time was unclear to you. The projections showed you’d managed to get through over half of your presentation, but you called none of it. 

Lem was standing up now, walking briskly over to you with a hand on your back and another under your elbow. The fingers in your cunt had disappeared, leaving you feeling empty and cold as your slick stuck to the inside of your thighs. 

“Ah, I believe our financing presentation is up next,” Lem called out, motioning quickly for the team to take over and leading you back to your seat. 

When you were safely sat back in the chair, you felt his stiffly gelled hair brush your cheek. It smelled overpoweringly of apricots and vanilla. Too sweet. 

“Are you alright?” he whispered. 

The concern in his voice was evident, but you were lost in the past few minutes and too frustrated by the silence in your head to appreciate it. 

“Fine,” you mumbled back and turned your head back to the blank table. 

You didn’t look at him as he rushed back to his place by Gahl, who’s gaze never shifted your way. Unlike his advisor. Even now the slip of a man in his dark suit and red tie stared at you down his nose like it was the barrel of his blaster. 

Like he was taking aim. 

You swallowed and tried to go back to that space where time did not exist and your head was not so empty, but it didn’t not come. 

Instead, you sat and listened and hoped you wouldn’t leave a damp spot on the cushions when you left. 

***

There were a lot of rules in negotiations. 

The First Order made sure its best and brightest had them all carved onto the backs of their hands before they ever set foot in the situation room. When you closed your eyes, you could see the words flashing in your mind. You knew them better than you knew yourself. But maybe that wasn’t really saying much. You’d been discovering quite a lot of personal details recently you weren’t previously aware of. 

Though, that was besides the point now. 

Now all you could think of was that the number one rule to a successful negotiation, was to always know more than your opponent. 

Knowledge was your strength, knowledge was your red crackling lightsaber, knowledge was your fist closed, throat crushing Force. 

That was how you came out on top, by constantly keeping the upper hand—by always having an ace in your metaphorical back pocket. 

But right now, you were losing.

And the frustration of it was going to consume you. 

Because you didn't know what or how or why Kylo Ren was in your head. In fact, you weren’t even sure if it was your head he was in. It felt much deeper than that now. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t keep him out. Whatever you’d done, whatever you’d let in that night on the sand with the sea standing witness, you would never be able to take it back. 

Kylo Ren was a liar. That you knew, because you were a liar too. 

Knowledge was your power, but lies were your currency. They were what you traded at the table, they were what slipped the easiest from your tongue and made sure you walked away from a deal with more than you’d come in with. 

And Kylo Ren was not in the business of negotiations, so there was nothing you could ever offer that would pry his jaw open and spill all his secrets. Nothing that could persuade him to tell you what exactly had taken root in your chest when you’d accepted him, took him inside and wanted to keep him there. 

But you needed to know. 

The desire to understand consumed you and every thought in your head. The same head that found itself clunking against a new desk in a new office with the same unending dissatisfaction. 

Lem had left you a few hours ago, setting you up in his workspace with a glass of water and a concerned smile. You knew you were being unnecessarily rude to him, and had you been less shaken, you might have felt some guilt over it. 

Now you were staring up at your datapad, document resolutely blank, and unable to think of anything other than the way Kylo’s skin reflected the light off the ocean or how his hair curled into little ringlets when it was soaked through and dripping onto your face and— 

You groaned, knocking your forehead into the desktop and squeezing your eyes shut against the barrage of images and the strange, uncomfortable ache they incited. You rested your head on your arms and tried to block out the light of the office, let yourself drift and tried to recall...well what you weren’t sure. 

The Force always seemed so far away, so fantastical that you weren’t ever truly convinced it was real. Not until you’d seen it first hand, watched the bodies of countless ‘troopers dragged from the hallways with not a mark on them. It simply wasn’t something anyone talked about, not at the Academy, and certainly not when you started working under Hux. 

It was...energy, you knew that much. And it was in everything, everyone you supposed, though stronger some than others. You knew it could be used for more than just making objects float around, although for what other purposes you weren’t entirely certain. It certainly wasn’t something you’d ever been able to use. 

But you thought it must have a hand in this, whatever it was that let you see, hear, taste, feel the Commander even when he was so far from you. Somewhere deep in the dusty corners of your mind, you knew that this would always be the case from now on. That even with light years in between, he’d only ever be a hair's breadth away—a whisper of his name or a beat of your heart. 

It was hard to swallow that notion. Hard to comprehend that you would never be alone in your skin. Never would you feel so lacking. What a cruelty, you thought, that it had taken so long. That you had been born into this world incomplete. Your Commander would call that a weakness, but really wasn’t he just as unfinished as you. There was still some gap in him waiting to be filled.

So, then, why couldn’t you find him like he could find you?

You didn’t have the gifts he did, you couldn’t make doors fly from their hinges or break bone with just a twitch of your fingers. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe it always would be. 

Voices from the hall broke you from your stupor. Two of them, the first old and grating, the second slick like oil that left a bad taste in your mouth—the representative and his advisor. You’d recognize them anywhere now. 

“...well I’d say that a drink is in order,” Gahl was saying, trailing off as they walked further from Lem’s office. 

“Sir, we shouldn’t be leaving—”

Atreus spoke that time, the sound of it trickling like cold water down your spine. Thankfully, the representative spoke over him. 

“Lem is here, he’ll take care of things.”  

A hand slapped the closed door currently keeping you hidden as they passed. You stayed still at the desk until the footsteps had completely petered out, listening to the expensive click of their hard soles die away into silence. Until now it had not occurred to you how close they were. How close the blade was to striking. You let out a breath and looked around. Everything seemed a bit more foggy than usual. Then, from across the room, you heard it—a soft creaking. And when you looked up, the door to Lem’s office was slowly falling open on its hinges. 

Like it was pulled by some invisible hand. 

And you felt the same tugging, the same formless compulsion, the same ghosting over your flesh. 

Across the hall, another door was drifting open by degrees, revealing a meticulously kept office with a shiny gold name plate:

Atreus.

Slowly, you let yourself be pulled—a puppet on strings—walking noiselessly across the corridor. In the doorway you paused, staring at the intricate black lettering. You wanted answers, and something told you this is where you’d find them. 

Into the belly of the beast. 

You took a careful step over the threshold, the air honey-thick and clinging to your skin. The office was spotless, not a paper out of place as you circled around the massive desk and ran your hands up the array of drawers. Each one was furnished with an ornate golden handle that glimmered in light from the hall. 

To your right, a drawer slid open just an inch or two. You watched, eyes wide, as it shuttered of its own accord out of place. And your hand similarly seemed to have a mind of its own, reaching out to grasp the handle and reveal it’s contents. 

Inside, nestled atop of a stack of folders was a small, black notebook. At first glance, it seemed innocuous. Not many people used pen and paper these days. But then the space around it started to shimmer, locking your gaze until the world outside it turned hazy. Shaking, your hand reached out fingertips brushing the leather bound cover. You bit your lip, teeth worrying the flesh as you sat on the floor and pulled the book into your lap. The ragged edges of each page caught on your nails when you flipped them open. 

Written in small, messy scrawl, was page upon page of notes. Words ran off the lines, and continued through the margins, most too minuscule or smudged to be legible. Multiple times, the Commander’s name was scratched in between sentences, angry obsessive markings that made your eyes sting. But you kept skimming, letting your hand be guided along. 

Until suddenly the pages stopped turning. 

And you stared down in horror. 

In the awful, disgusting script, was your name circled, underlined and bolded at the top of the paper. Thin, curving, inked arrows drew lines across the other mismatched text and you slapped a hand over your mouth to stifle the grating, garbled sound that threatened to escape your chest. 

There, the words stood out clear as day among the mess of lines.  

Bond. 

Your brain hadn’t even begun to register the implications of this, but you knew. 

This was the answer you’d been searching for. 

And you had no time to process it, because footsteps from the hall were approaching, quick and hard soled. Your eyes went wide and you scrambled to close the drawer and shove the book into your jacket pocket. Knees tearing on the carpet, you tucked yourself into the space under the desk and held your breath. 

Silence rang out in the tiny room. 

From outside, you heard the footsteps grow louder, closer, and finally come to a halt right in the doorway. 

Taglist lovelies: @couldntfuckingtellya @contesa-lui-alucard @thewilddingleberries @isaxhorror @cowboy-kylo @findyourdarkness @kit-jpg @shesakillerkween @obsessionprofessional

[ginnyweasleywannabe]

How James found out- James' Pov

Companion piece to my other story "How James found out" but from James' POV. Gives more of glimpse to Marlene and James' friendship with a little background Blackinnon tender moment.

((I still don't know how to format a tumblr post so if you want to read the first piece, just go to my page and search tag #my writing))

As always you can also read on AO3 @inthemiddle

Notes: IDK honestly I just wanted to write more of the thoughts behind the other story. I thought about writing the talk between Marlene and James' after this event but I think I'll make that a separate piece. As always minimal editing because I just wanted to write and then be done and get it out-there.

Start:

Honestly, James was tired. He had been really pushing himself both mentally and physically lately. Revising was starting soon so he was working his school work more than usual. Revising and the end of the year also meant the end of quidditch season. They only had a few more games which mean they really needed to make them count to have the best chance at the cup. He had been looking forward to dinner all day, all the workouts meant bigger appetite. He was currently diving in deep into his shepherds pie, only half listening to the talk around him.

“Peter was great, he took a step in front of me and held up his wand. He didn’t even have to say anything, they just left!”

“Well, it wasn’t quite like that Mary….” Peter said sheepishly, “I think they knew that if they messed with us then it would become a whole thing with you lot, that’s all.”

“Peter, I think it was nice of you to stand in front of Mary. They truly believe as a muggle-born she’d be worth the easy fight.” Lily wanted to help boost Peters confidence.

“It shouldn’t matter! Mary is great at defense, she could’ve taken the whole lot without even breaking a sweat!” Marlene’s word were encouraging but James could tell she was really annoyed. Marlene tended to have a short fuse. James couldn’t blame her. He felt like things were getting worse and worse. He was of the firm belief that it was time for the staff to take more action. Dumbledore was a believer in keeping the peace and that there was always more to the story. James felt like that was bullshit.

“Uggghhh”

He looked up to see Marlene staring down some Slytherins down the table. He knew what she was thinking. He could read Marlene like quidditch through the ages. He got it but tomorrow was really important to him. He just wanted to make it through the game then deal with this.

“Just let them pass, Marley, it’s not worth getting suspended from tomorrow’s game” James urged her with a pleading glance.

Rosier sniggered to Snape “I saw the little chubby one staring at the redhead mudblood earlier, she must had something special to get them all worked up”

Okay screw keeping the peace, James was out of his seat. And so was Marley… and so was Sirius. But he was just not going for the Slytherins, he standing in front of her, back to Snape and Rosier. He had his arms wrapped around Marley’s waist, trying his best to stop the lunging girl. James felt small quick relief, Sirius had Marlene. If things turned physical, which it would with Marlene, she had a good ex but much preferred a punch, they would definitely have to forfeit tomorrow’s game. He glanced away from the focus of the two for just a second, taking in the whole scene as Rosier said “She’s got all of you wrapped around her finger, maybe I ought to give her a try.”

Marlene went to lunge again but James knew Sirius could hold her steady. He went to turn back and give the pair of Slytherins his mind but suddenly he was more focused on Marlene and Sirius. They had exchanged a few words but now it was time for Snape to cut in “Yeah Black control your girl” welp. James knew that wasn’t good. Back in 5th year Marlene had dated Luke Wilson for a few months and hated being called “his girl” She was not a piece of property. James knew the chances for the game tomorrow were gone, or so he thought but then Sirius just leaned into Marlene and whispered something in her ear. She slowly relaxed and let her feet back down onto the floor. Marlene never relaxed that easily, especially with the way things had been going for her today. Then with one arm still wrapped around her waist, Sirius used his free hand to push a piece of hair behind her ear. James suddenly felt like he was invading in a private moment. A private moment between his best friend and his sister.

What. The. fuck.

Before James could even blink, Marlene straightened her robes and excused herself. James whipped his head to Sirius. Sirius looked at James like everything was perfectly normal, like he didn’t just stroke Marlene’s hair and comfort her. He gave a quick shrug and then agreed with Lily to go check on Marlene. The whole group went to get up and James was still stunned for movement before storming ahead of the rest of the 6th years. He found Marlene pacing out in the corridor. James charged ahead, he wanted answers.

“What the hell was that?” He couldn’t help but raise his voice.

“Oh, sorry Jamie, I know I should have let it go but its just been a long day” Marlene sighed letting her shoulders hang.

James wasn’t mad at her outburst, how could she think that. This just got him more worked up, why was she not answering. “Jamie” that was she had always called him. She was the only person he allowed to call him that, it was their thing.

“I don’t care about that… what the fuck was that” James knew he wasn’t making a ton of sense but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words, so waving his hands around like a mad man would have to suffice. Marlene just stared at him with a face of confusion.

“James…”

Oh yeah that bastard was still here. During this whole thing James had been processing things at lightning speed and thinking everything through but at the sound of Sirius’ voice James didn’t think, he just whipped around and punched Sirius. Sirius stumbled a little but remained on his feet. James was seething. Marlene was his everything, he would give his life for her. She was the first person outside of his parents he ever loved, it wasn’t romantic but that’s what made it so special because he felt so much love for her it went beyond lust.

“James, its not-“ it’s not what he thinks?! Was he actually about to say that? What else could it be. Sirius had been sneaking around with his Marley behind his back, after he promised he would stay away from her. Sirius had taken advantage of her, her willingness to love everyone and want to fix broken things. James hit him again, this time knocking him to the floor

“MY SISTER?? I asked you for one thing and it was not to sleep with my sister!!” James was yelling as loud as he could. Sirius felt the blood from his nose. He lunged back at James. James was caught off guard expecting to just let him have it. They both tumbled to floor, it didn’t last long before the group was pulling them apart.

James was breathing hard. He was glaring daggers at Sirius while Marlene quickly wiped his cheek. Why was she doing that, why was she comforting her. She suddenly whipped around to James.

“What. the fuck. was. that.”

James recoiled into himself for just a moment. He took a lighter tone remember that this was his favorite person, he hoped his tone was filled with love so that she would listen to him. “Marley...”

“What. did you. Mean. He. Promised.” Oh yeah… had he said promised. He had never meant for Marley to find out about the promise. But once he explained, she would understand, he wasn’t the person she should be upset with. He was doing this for her.

“It’s Sirius, you know how he his. After fifth year anyone with eyes could see the way he was looking at you. I just wanted to keep you safe, I mean, I mean HE” but Marlene cut him off.

“You had no right to do that, James. You don’t get to hold your good deeds over him for a favor in return. Especially one that controls MY life.” Marlene was still glaring up at him. Her voice never taking the soft tone they usually used with each other.

James released his breath and hung his head. He was tired and he hated fighting with Marlene, he just wanted to go somewhere with her and they would talk, move past this and laugh.

“James…” Sirius had started barley above a whisper.

“Don’t.” James removed any emotion from his voice but anger. He couldn’t be here anymore, he turned and left the group.

[sparklingichigo]

Human World Adventures

Part 7

After setting things straight with Satan, everything turns back to normal, or at least that's how it seems. One of them is how Haruka is now freely hanging out with the brothers again like it's no big deal.

Levi: You have a what-

Haruka: A streaming schedule-

Levi: In my room?

Haruka: Why? Am I bothering you?

Levi: ....no....? But why?

Haruka: Because your room has nice gaming set up!

Levi: Wait, you're bringing a camera in?! [panic]

Haruka: Relax! I'm not gonna shoot you! You have 0 screen time in my streams.

Levi:...I don't know if I should feel relieved or offended...

So here she is, shooting her stream with Levi playing his game in the background. In the living room, Ichigo, Solomon, Asmo, and Luke are watching a movie. Somehow Solomon shares his popcorns with everyone, but he literally smacks the hand away as soon as Ichigo tries to grab some.

Ichigo: What the-

Solomon: No ^^

Ichigo: ??? That's like a big bowl of popcorn....? Wha-

Solomon: But it's from my money. Get your own popcorn!

Ichigo: ????

Asmo: ????

Luke: ????

Asmo: Babe, it's just popcorns....?

Luke: Solomon, come on, it's just a bowl of popcorn! It's not a big deal!

Ichigo: Wait, which popcorn is this....? [suspicious af]

Solomon: ... Jolly time popcorn....? I think...?

Asmo: You didn't even grocery shop....the last person who grocery shop is Lucifer...

Solomon: Uhm.... [runs off]

And this is how Solomon almost got thrown across the room. But he is lucky both Luke and Asmo are holding her back.

Ichigo: GET BACK HERE, YOU ASSHAT!!

Solomon: nO!

Welp, there he goes, of course leaving the popcorn to them. More for them, I guess. Now back to Haruka and her streaming adventures! After a few minutes, Haruka is finally done with her stream and lying on one of Levi's couches. Levi is, of course, still playing with his game, minding his own business, suddenly he heard his door opening. There he sees Satan by his door.

Levi: Why are you here....?

Satan: Why not...?

Levi: You barely even care about my room... GET OUT!

Satan: Who are you to tell me so?!

Levi: ... You little- [angy snake noises]

Suddenly the two of them hear a thud across the room. The two demons turn to see Haruka's face getting hit by her phone. These two demons try not to laugh as Haruka lazily puts her phone away and rubs that one painful spot.

Levi: ...are you okay?

Haruka: Yeah....?

Levi: Just go to sleep. You seem really tired.

Haruka: I guess... [falls asleep on the couch]

Satan prefers her to sleep in a bed and suddenly picks her up, shocking the water demon.

Levi: ...? Just let her sleep....?

Satan: Yeah, in bed.

Levi: Whatever... I don't vibe with your logic anymore.

Satan ignores Levi's comment and gets out. Once he's out, Luke, Asmo, and Ichigo stare in his direction, but this man ignores them and goes into his room. However, he asks Luke to help him with his door, causing confusion to the tiny angel.

Luke: What even is that?

Satan: New bolster. Just open it.

Luke: ....Okay... [opens the door]

Once he's in, he closes the door by his hip, causing a loud thud to be heard by everyone. Ichigo and Asmo both look in the door's direction seeing Luke backing away out of shock.

Ichigo: What the-

Luke: What was that about....?

Asmo: Perhaps too excited for his gigantic cat bolster, who knows... he's been looking through online shops to buy one.

Luke: Not a reason to smack the door right in front of me! >:(

Asmo: Come on, Luke! The movie is still going. We can worry about that later!

Luke: Okay! [runs towards Asmo and Ichigo]

Now back inside, Satan finally places Haruka on his bed and tucks her in with his green-black cat patterned blanket. He stares at her a bit but suddenly realizes he hasn't taken a shower. So off he goes to the bathroom. This nasty fury!

As Satan showers, Haruka is still asleep and currently deep inside the dream world as she's hugging a bolster. At the same time, Satan finally gets out of the shower. Oh, if only she's awake, this is a good view-

(Ichigo: Narrator stop being thirsty-

Narrator: I can't???

Haruka: ??? What's happening??)

Anyways, as I was saying, Satan gets out in just a towel coat. It's still a good view, that che- *cough* I mean, that wet hair. He's still drying it off with his towel as he stares at Haruka, who's asleep. At first, it's just to make sure Haruka is sleeping nicely, but then his eyes focus on her ring, a beautiful light blue crystal ring with sparkling diamonds surrounding the crystal. Satan removes the ring to observe it more since it's so pretty.

Satan: Ah, sapphire, quite an expensive one, I see...

Satan: He seems to be preparing quite a lot to propose to her. Interesting.... oh well, I'll keep it for a while to study it further.

The next day, Haruka wakes up, first thinking she's in Levi's room, so she greets him good morning.

Haruka: Morning Levi...

Satan: I'm sure the person you're talking to isn't Levi^^

Haruka: Wait... SATAN?!

Satan: Good morning to you too^^

Haruka sighs and looks around, and finds her ring missing. She panics and tries to find it but instead finds Satan just casually sitting on the couch, reading a book as always as he drinks his morning tea.

Haruka: ...Hey, Satan....have you seen my ring...?

Satan: A ring? What sort of ring are you talking about?

Haruka: My engagement ring! It has a royal blue sapphire on it with two diamonds surrounding it, have you seen it?! [panic]

Satan: Not that I know off.

Haruka: Are you sure?

Satan: I'm certain that I do not see your ring^^

Haruka:...

Satan: [proceeds with his book]

Suddenly Haruka pounces on him and starts tickling the sh*t out of him, causing the avatar of wrath to let out a yelp, and his book is now history.

Satan: Wait-wait! Why are you tickling me?! Stop it!

Haruka: Tell me where that ring is!!

Satan: I don't know!! If anything, you should ask Mammon! He's the one who's most likely to take such jewelry!

Haruka: ...Mammon?

Satan: What? You expect me, the avatar of wrath, to take your ring? Now you're not making sense.

Haruka: .....Fine... I'm watching you, though-

Satan: Be my guest.

Haruka: Fine!

Haruka gets out of the room, and she ends up asking around about her ring. One of them is Lucifer.

Lucifer: A ring? What kind of ring is it?

Haruka: My engagement! Did you see it somewhere? Did I drop it?

Lucifer: I don't think so... I actually just got back with Diavolo and Barbatos from our meeting last night.

Haruka: I see....alright then...

Next up, she asks Levi where it was. The avatar of envy just shrugs, saying he has no idea.

Levi: I think you still wear it when Satan carried you away. Maybe it was dropped on its way there. Who knows...

Haruka: What?! Oh no... [runs to the second floor to find it]

As she finds the ring, Ichigo and the twins (more like Ichigo and Beel because Belphie is carried by Beel) walk through that same exact hallway. The two of them find Haruka trying to find her ring.

Beel: Haruka, what's wrong? Did you lose something?

Haruka: My ring! Have you seen it?! Is it by the hallways?! It's costly, and it's my engagement ring!

Beel:... I didn't...sorry, Haruka.

Ichigo: Are you sure you didn't take it off before bed? Maybe it's on your nightstand?

Haruka: No, I was still wearing it last night, and the following day it's gone!

Ichigo: If so...where were you last night? Or at least this morning?

Haruka: in Levi's room, but Satan carries me away to his room. That's how I end up in his room.

Ichigo: that son of a- wait Lucifer's not a biss.... uh...that biss!

Beel: Did he....?

Ichigo: There are possibilities, but we'll find out soon.

Haruka: [sigh] I need some air...

In just seconds, Haruka ran out the door, shocking Levi, watching an anime in the living room.

Levi: What just happened...?

Ichigo: Haruka went out for some air...

Levi: Oh well...

Once she's outside, she ends up on a garden bench trying to calm herself. Probably she did misplace it somewhere on Satan's nightstand...but she doesn't find it there either, plus she is sure that Satan took her ring... but she didn't even see the ring in his pockets.

Solomon: I knew I'd find you here!

Haruka: Oh...Solomon...

Solomon: Well, I'm sure you're wondering where your ring is, don't you?

Haruka: Yeah... I'm scared Simeon might get mad at me for it...

Solomon: He'll probably get mad at the person taking it away, but I'm sure he won't get mad at you. I've known him for years, I even lived with him!

Haruka: ....true....

Solomon: But if you're still trying to find it, I can help you

Haruka: You would?

Solomon: Yeah, I mean, I've been learning time magic for a while

Haruka: Fair enough, let's do that

Solomon uses his time magic, revealing what's happening that night. Although it was successful, Haruka needs to pause the reveal a bit because of such a view.

Solomon: Seriously?

Haruka: What?

Solomon: Your nose...

Haruka: Oh shoot!

Solomon: Oh shoot, is the right reaction... [gives her tissues]

Haruka: Just continue...

The two proceed to see the footage. Suddenly Solomon is curious and decides to raise up his clothes, causing Haruka to go through another nosebleed-

Haruka: Solomon wtf-

Solomon: Oh, so it's on all guys-

Haruka: Yeah-

Solomon: hmmm, you're definitely dead once it's Beel

Haruka:...

Suddenly the two of them find Ichigo inside the telepathy chatroom shocking the two of them.

Ichigo: Well, well, didn't know I'd get to see such a view

Solomon: How did you get here?!

Ichigo: Telepathic chatroom? Also, that's some good abs-

Solomon: Found two humans dead. Anyways-

Haruka: Just continue!

Solomon: And here, more tissue. [somehow continues the footage]

The three of them watch the clownery unfolds, and it turns out that Satan took the ring, and he dares to put that in Mammon's room.

Ichigo: Wow...he really is a biss...

Solomon: And I thought he's most mature of them all...

Ichigo: That'd be his dad- and-

Haruka: And who-

Ichigo: ....Beel?

Solomon: Whipped as ever-

Ichigo: Excuse-

Solomon: Anyways! We found the culprit! Let's get our asses home!

So the three of them get home and finds Ichigo holding the ring with Mammon staring at it, Asmo figuring out who the culprit was, and Simeon, who's as confused as ever. Seeing this, Haruka instantly hides behind Solomon due to reflex.

Simeon: Haruka, you're home!

Haruka: Yeah....hi...

Ichigo: We found your ring, it's in Mammon's room, but we still have no idea who stole it since Mammon swears on Lord Diavolo he hasn't seen such-

Simeon: [glares at Ichigo because she's about to cuss]

Ichigo: seen such things-

Mammon: I did! I have never seen that in my whole entire life! What even is that?! That looks like it's from the human world!

Simeon: It is^^ I bought them in the human world.

Ichigo: Swarovski?

Simeon: Yeah...

Asmo: That's an expensive brand! It'd be crucial if it got lost!

Haruka: I don't know the price, but it is indeed expensive.

Solomon: Well, lucky for you guys, I've found the culprit.

Asmo: You did? Who is it?

Solomon: Satan.

Everyone: What?!

Solomon: I know, it's odd by here [shows some footage he got thanks to time magic]

Simeon looks at the footage, and his patience is slowly decreasing. He actually thought Satan had truly moved on and would stop pestering his relationship with Haruka but instead, he's witnessing Satan taking off Haruka's ring and blames Mammon for it. Sure he can take Haruka's ring and place it somewhere, but the fact that he blames Mammon for it...now he's just pulling someone into his own problem.

Mammon: That Lil sht! Let me at it! Stop holding me back, Levi! I'm gonna kick his ass!

Levi: No! It's not worth it!

Mammon: No! Not when he's accusing me of something I didn't do!

Levi: Mammon, come on! It's not worth it, plus we even found the ring! It's fine!

Ichigo: At least we found the ring, but I feel bad that Mammon gets to be the scapegoat of this mess.

Beel: I can help you break down the door if you want-

Ichigo: Hon, let's not destroy the door. We don't want that thing to happen again...

Simeon: It's okay, everyone^^. At least the ring is found.

Mammon: Yea, and still dares to blame me! I'm still kicking his ass!

Luke: Don't make me shoot you with my holy water gun, Mammon!

Mammon: Shut it, Fid- OUCH! WHAT THE-

Luke: Told you. It's holy water.

Simeon: Luke... ^^

Luke: Hehe... :3

Ehe te nanda- wait- wrong fandom. Anyways, the ring is found, and everything is back to normal until Ichigo proposes the craziest idea she ever said.

Barbatos: What?! [chokes on his tea]

Ichigo: As I said, time travel. I think all this chaos wouldn't happen if Haruka didn't get attracted to Simeon.... her being with Satan.... then Reika wouldn't meet us....the war didn't happen.... yada yada yada...

Barbatos: That's a very risky move, Ichigo... are you sure?

Ichigo: I think we'll be okay...

Barbatos: It might change some of our memories. Well, not mine since I'll be involved, but it will affect the others, even your boyfriend, Beel.

Ichigo: Is it too big of a risk?

Barbatos: Yes, it is too risky. I don't recommend doing it... just accept what has happened.

Ichigo: Okay...

Jokes on you! I'll still be making this time travel clownery, but it won't be here, of course. Just an experiment I did

Barbatos: Author no-

Wait, how did he communicate with me-

Barbatos: I'm the master of time and realities, and I can clearly hear you.

Okay.... well... I found a way so they won't be affected-

Barbatos: By creating two reality branches?

Perhaps...

Barbatos: [sigh] Do what you want-

[littlespaceporgs]

The Clone Wars Reacts - Part 5

Or Leah loses her shit at Jar Jar, thirsts for Aayla Secura for an episode and a half, and then swoons for Riyo Chuchi.

Welcome once more to the Reacts series! I’m a busy woman for now but I am setting up a schedule for this series which will be

Today we’re covering episodes 12, 13, 14 and BONUS! 15. This is because I got super bored during episode 14 and basically didnt write anything so, here you go! As per usual, major spoiler alert for season 1 of the clone wars! If you haven’t read the previous parts to this series, I suggest you do so that you can follow along! 

Part 1 - Episodes 1 and 2 Part 2 - Episodes 3, 4 and 5 Part 3 - Episodes 6, 7 and 8 Part 4 - Episodes 9, 10 and 11

Tags (if you want to join, my taglist can be found on my page!): @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @girlvader @simping-for-fives @littlevodika @hounding-around @pro-fangirls-unsocial-life @onabouteverything @acciokenobi @catsnkooks @captainrexstan @roseofalderaan @fractiouskat

We’re well past the half-way point, so there is 2 parts left of season 1, and then onto season 2! So lets get into it!

Episode 12: The Gungan General

> heheheheheheheh jar jar I am KEEN

> I get hondo and jar jar in one episode

>> this’ll be funny

>>> actually no scratch that, this is gonna be hilarious

> oh and they woke up in a cell this will be fun

> HAHAHAHHAHAHAHA AND THEYRE BOUND TO DOOKU

> DISASTER I TELL YOU

> “if I keep my mouth shut you’ll devise a plan so get off the god forsaken planet?” “YES”

> this dude seems traitorous as fuck (im referring to one of the pirates, not dooku shockingly)

> I wish Ahsoka and Yoda were in this too, I want more disaster lineage

> ah he is indeed a traitor

> “HEIDY HO CHANCELLOR”

> JAR JAR WHOO

> “stop messing around, we’re landing. Secure yourself” “MESA TRYING ITS STUCK”

> promptly followed by jar jar falling everywhere

> oh and now he’s in the cockpit

> oh shit that senator guy is definitely dead right?

> “do control tour protégées insolence” “anakin, control your insolence, the count is concentrating”

> “do we know where we’re going?” “Ssh anakin” “DO we know where we’re going?”

> is it safe? Of course it i- riiiiiight

>> I forgot this was the clone wars for a second, this is gold

> FRIENDS DONT DRUG FRIENDS HONDO

> y’know, dooku’s quite amusing when he’s not trying to kill my favourite characters

> “are you now in command” “uh no, binks is the highest ranking” ooooohhhh boy

> ooooooohhhh and some mind tricks too, nice

> I hate to say this, but jar jar is actually smart

> holy shit

> beasties are nearby too, we’ll be fine. they run, we run

>> Dayum jar jar actually making good decisions?

> I present a real and accurate image of my reaction to this statement

> Mesa be having an idea oooohhh booooyyy

> obi wan that is no way to speak to your grandmaster

> be patient master the count is elderly and doesn’t move like he used to

> I would kill you both now if I didn’t have to drag your bodies

>> HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH this is the only reaction I’ll accept

> then falling all over each other is the only thing I’ve ever needed to see

> “ this is not going well” no shit

> my question is why did obi wan not drop Dooku?? Does he actually still care about this man?

> you’re right, I don’t think youre going to be friends 🤦‍♀️😂

> sneaky lying snake

> bruh they don’t even know you’ve got the Jedi captive??????????

>> so how does that work you dumbass

> no shit, you will look like fools obi wan

> “there be some bombad clankers” 😂😂

>> “huh YOURE right, bombad clankers” I love the shock

> YOURE RIGHT HE IS SMARTER THAN HE LOOKS, GIVE JARJAR SOME CREDIT

> oh boy anakin, just keep your mouth shut genius

> man electrocution doesn’t look like fun

> HAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAH

> The next few lines of confused joy are me reacting to jar jar somehow single handedly taking out 3 tanks

> what the fuck

> JarJar I I’m what-

> JUST DID A GOOD THING, I DONT REGERT THIS THING AT ALLLLLLLL

> fuckin JarJar was great

> “KILL HIM HES NOT A REPRESENTATIVE, HES A PLAGUE” I’m ded 💀😢💀

> serves you right you snake, now dooku gonna choke your ass

> oooohhhhh that’s how these two twits (hondo and obi-wan) became friends

> “and... he knows where you live” Oof the subtle threat is real

> hem I love obi wan very much and his sarcasm

 Episode 13: Jedi crash

> I JUST SAW AAYLA I AM EXCITED I AM ALSO ATTRACTED TO HER VERY MUCH

> SHES HOT

> I LOVE HER

> AND HER VOICE JUST MAKES ME ☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️☺️

> I wish I was bly, not gonna lie

> I have a quick question - the 501st colour is blue right? Then why do they have a gold squad, doesn’t the extra colours just confuse things?

> I love seeing anakin and Ahsoka in action coolest thing to watch

> And anakin

>> I am also quite attracted to him

>>> imagine dragging your hands through that hair as he- wait no I have minors in my followers not gonna finish that

> Uh oh

>> Oh anakin you twit

>>> HE LOCKED HOMSELF IN WITH AN EXPLOSION JDGKJDJFKFKFKFKFF

> HES INSANE

> Are all Jedi so reckless? Just the good ones - love this by the way

> Oooohh shit for a STAR

> I mean like? I know anakin doesn’t die, but this shit is concerning

> Perfected the art of destroying ships and getting master almost killed? Sounds familiar

> I hate it when they just call them “padawan “ it just feels very impersonal like bleh

> Like I love aayla but god the Jedi preach some bullshit

>> God forbid someone raises a child and gets attached to it

>>> Like for fucks sake

>>>> Can you tell this is something I’m passionate about?

> Anyway, moving on

> Oh hi anakin! You’re alive!

> That bird lookin thing is tryna eat my boy 😤

> Oop - well that dudes dead

> Aawwwwwww aayla looks so sad, this makes me sad too

> Can we just appreciate this?

> Well these little critters are cute

> Ooooohhh I think I agree with this little dude

> You can skip the paragraph if you like, its just me going off about ‘peacekeeping’

> Alright gonna get mildly into it for a second, the clone wars really gets into it with episodes like this, displaying how the entire galaxy was starting to lose faith in the Jedi and their peacekeeping ways, in the movies we just got that people just started hating the Jedi because they became part of the war, but this really fleshes it out and shows just how slowly and gradually the loss of faith is. Because he’s right, the Jedi aren’t peacekeepers anymore, they bring as much destruction with them that the separatists do and have become symbols of war. They’re fighting for a good reason yes, but they can no longer claim that they are peacekeepers or that they played no role in this war.

> ANYWAY BACK TO REACTS

> AH MY TWO FAVOURITE WOMEN AND A PRETTY BACKGROUND AGAIN!! They really do be doing me a great service

Part 14: Defenders of Peace

> I’m really not into this episode, just saying it now

> Anakins just as bad as obi wan, like honestly just chill bro, fucking REST

>> MY BOYS DESERVE SOME GODDAMN REST AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL OK-

> Okay but is it taking a life if it’s a droid?

> Ugh this dudes ugly as fuck

> What did you think was gonna happen?? Of course your village was going to be ransacked

> I could go on forever about the pointlessness of this war like it just makes me mad palpatine you slimy git-

> My reacts this episode are really boring huh, I’m not into it 😭

*fully I didn’t write anything for about 10 minutes here because it’s just a little boring*

> HOLY SHIT NOW THATS A FUCKING WEAPON

> Yep sorry that’s it for this ep, I’m so bored 😂

>> Anyway, bonus episode because that one was short!

Part 15: Trespass

> YES OBIWAN WOHOOOOOOOOOOOOO

> AND IS THAT RIYO CHUCHI I SPY?????

> Hahahahahahahhahahaha it’s not tatooine, you got that right

> Oh god this dude already sounds like a dick (its the chancellor dude but not palpatine)

> Why’s he so defensive over it?

> Oh yikes, that does not look good

> Seppies don’t do that though - this is... odd

> Ah and the same thing has been done to the droids

> Off topic, but I think I’m going to make a clone wars drinking game that I can do while I do my reacts, so I’m going to make that this week, send me your ideas in the comments or dm me!

> Back to ep - pfffffffttt obi wans little taps and then anakin really goes WHACK

> Anyway I’m going to do this in the next couple days and then every Friday night I’ll watch a few eps and drink away

> Alright back to the episode once more

> Abominable snowman????

>> Definitely

> This is gonna go well isn’t it?

> “Well? Say something”

>> “Just shut up” *visible eye roll*

> What the fuck is their mouth

> Okay really obi wan, I think it’s pretty clear they don’t speak basic

> YEEEEEEAAAHHH THATS MY BOI ANAKIN

> Awwwwwwww that shits cute, fucking bear huugggg I want to be hugged like that

> I’m not fussed if it’s anakin, obi wan or kit fisto but please someone love me

>> Preferably kit fisto

> Anyway this dudes a dick (again, its the chancellor dude)

> They obviously have intelligence, and this dude has issues

>> I’m thinking he’s trying to compensate for something 👀

> Oof you really gonna tell a Jedi what to do?

> HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA the other people’s were there already

> Ugh he reminds me of my very racist grandparents oh boy

> You’ve been told like 4 times that it is not your jurisdiction anymore and you still can’t take it?

>> BRUH

> She’s so tiny and adorable and her voice is just 🥰🥰🥰🥰

>> Oh no

>>> I’m simping for another character

> Surely this guy dies

> HAHAHAHAHAH HE JUST GOT SPEARED SERVES YOU RIGHT MOTHERFUCKER

> What a dick, he shall not be missed

> She’s just, so pretty??? And smart????

>> FUCK MY BISEXUAL ASS CANT HANDLE THIS

> he’s seriously not dead yet?

> AAAHH RIYO YOU SMART GIRL YEEEEESSSS NEGOTIATE THAT PEEEEAAACCEEEE

> THATS MY GIRL SENATOR CHUCHI YEEEESSS

Welp that’s it for today folks, it was lovely, see y’all at some point this week where I say the drinking game rules and then next drunken Friday (even though these are gonna be released on saturdays but I write them on fridays?)

[playitaagain]

meant to be a pogue | Mayward

Request:  If you’re still taking prompts- Kook! JJ who falls in love with Pope the first time he every sees him. But Pogues aren’t really keen on kooks so queue jj tryin desperately to get popes attention and time any way he can

Warning: fighting, underage drinking, kook!JJ being awkward, mentions of child abuse

Author’s Note: Welp, this turned out longer than expected but I wanted to give a little background so this happened. The time jumps aren’t my favorite, but the story needed it.

JJ goes to impress some girl. It’s silly really. He doesn’t usually go for the smart ones, but she seems nice enough and he was up for the challenge. It was pretty well known that he was a player and normally the smart ones didn’t go for him either. They were too smart for that, but she’s shown a bit of interest so he figured he might as well go for it. 

He honestly didn’t know they had a mathlete team. He normally wouldn’t be caught dead at some event like this, but he was trying to impress her. It was easy really. He went up before it all started, smirk on his lips and shot her a few compliments. She giggles and smiles and twirls her hair a bit and he knows he’ll be fine.

But then the meet starts.

JJ can’t take his eyes off him. This boy - Pope he learns as the meet goes on - answers almost all of the questions for the other team. Actually, he answers almost every question of the meet, basically wiping the floor with the competition. 

JJ is impressed. He doesn’t know why. Pope is enchanting though. He rambles a bit with each answer, dragging the meet out a bit longer than it would normally last. He says everything in a tone that doesn’t make you feel stupid and JJ doesn’t even know how. The few questions his team, including the girl he was actually here for, answered made him feel stupid, like he should know these things. Pope didn’t make him feel like that. Pope actually said it in a way that made it easy to understand. 

And okay. JJ has never looked at someone and instantly lost his breath or had his heart pound when he heard their voice. It was stupid really, like something described in a movie. It leaves him a bit confused, especially when the girl starts to talk to him after the meet, complaining about Pope in a condescending way that rubs JJ the wrong way. 

“Just because he’s smarter than you doesn’t mean you can drag him like that.” JJ has never really had a filter, but his eyes widen at the words and the shock is mirrored on the girl’s face as well. She simply shakes her head and walks away. JJ doesn’t follow her. 

--------------------------

JJ finds him at the annual memorial day kegger and he’s had a lot of time to think. It’s been nearly four weeks since he last saw Pope and he’s managed to work through some of his feelings. It was a bit confusing when he realized he was attracted to a guy for the first time, but he did a bit of research, figured some shit out and realized that maybe it wasn’t so bad. He could do this. He just had to be careful about the whole thing. 

Pope is sitting by the fire with John B and Kie. The group is well known among the kooks, always causing trouble and stirring shit up. JJ usually stays out of it, but he knows Rafe and some of his goons have beat on the group a few times in the past. JJ is better known for beating on his fellow kooks rather than pogues. 

“Hey,” JJ says, because he’s standing in front of him now and he doesn’t know how to flirt with a guy. He’s never flirted with the guy before. “You were really good at the mathlete meet a few weeks ago.” Does complementing work with guys too? Girls loved that kind of shit. 

The other looks sceptical and JJ can tell John B is a bit on edge. It wasn’t really normal for kooks and pogues to mix even at parties and he figured it would raise some suspicion, but he hadn’t realized the other’s would be ready for a fight. 

“Ah, yeah, thanks man,” Pope replies, frown pulling down his lips as he glances at Kie. JJ recognizes her from a few of his classes. She doesn’t really hang out with anyone at their school. 

“I’m JJ,” he introduces. Why the hell was this so hard? He was totally screwing this up. 

“Pope.” He takes a sip of his beer, nodding his head toward John B, “This is John B and Kie.” 

“You’re in my math class, right?” JJ is trying to find something to talk about with them. He figures relating to Kie is probably the best bet at this point. She at least went to his school. 

“Yeah, I think so. You don’t exactly show up to class though.” And that breaks the ice. The four of them are laughing as JJ finds himself sitting in front of them, trying to defend himself, but knowing it is fruitless to do so. He barely shows up to class. 

He spends the rest of the kegger with the pogues. 

-----------------------------------

JJ finds that he fits in better with the pogues than he ever did with the kooks. The pogues are hesitant to let him hang out, but Kie vouches for him on a few occasions and he finds himself at The Wreck more times in the next few weeks than his whole life. 

The pogues are easy to hang out with. They surf, swim and go out on the boat all day when they aren’t working. These are all things the JJ prefers, reasons he doesn’t hang out with many kooks to begin with (because golf is fucking boring). It takes them a long time to actually invite him out on the boat, like it's some sacred pogue thing, but JJ says he’ll bring the beer and food and they finally crack a few weeks later. 

It isn’t just easy being around the pogues, but it’s easy being around Pope. The other is funny, kind, and level headed. He is everything the pogues are known for not being. JJ is drawn to him. He always finds himself setting next to him when they grab a bit at The Wreck. He sits next to him on the boat, legs touching and shoulders bumping. He always swims a little closer to Pope, laughs with him more. He doesn’t know if anyone notices, hopes no one does.

He swears he gets a vibe from Pope. The other doesn’t move away, doesn’t say anything when JJ invades his personal space more often than necessary (and yeah, JJ is a little touch starved, but they don’t know that). There have definitely been a few times that Pope has looked at him a little longer than necessary, eyes glancing down at his lips. 

But JJ could also just be making all of his up because he wanted it to be true. 

-----------------------------------

JJ has never gotten along with Rafe and his goons. There was a short period in junior high when he hung around Topper a bit, but the other always wanted to go to golf lessons and JJ was never interested. After that, JJ was quick to establish himself as a loner kook. 

It didn’t mean there weren’t times he didn’t hang out with the others. JJ was always looking for reasons to get out of his house and hanging out with kooks was an easy one even if it was often a lie. The problem was usually that the few times they hung out, it would end with JJ’s fist bloody and aching as he tried to calm himself down. 

This is no different. 

Rafe is standing in front of them, sneer on his face. JJ is used to his words. The off handed comments about his father always set JJ off and Rafe knows it. He does it on purpose. 

But he isn’t talking to JJ today. His eyes are firmly set on John B, “Does someone miss their daddy?” The words are condescending and teasing and JJ sees the way John B’s jaw clenches, seeing his fists tighten and sees his hand punch Rafe in the face. 

It immediately starts a brawl as the three on them go at it. The only problem is that JJ doesn’t want his friends involved. He’s dealt with this before, gotten out of many situations where it was three on one, but one look over at Pope, who has just gotten a fist in the jaw, and JJ knows he can’t get out of this so easily. He has to make sure Pope and JB are safe, make sure they’re okay because they’re his friends. He needs to protect his friends. 

So he rips Topper off Pope, shoving the other back with as much force as he can manage. Rafe is quick to punch him in the jaw. It knocks him back a few steps, but JJ catches himself, using as much force as possible to connect his fist with Rafe’s face. The other stumbles and lands on the ground and JJ can basically see the steam coming out of his ears as they stare each other down. “You’re just like your old man.” JJ lunges. 

He doesn’t know what happens next. He’s seeing red as he punches Rafe over and over again. It isn’t until Pope is behind him, pulling him off, telling him that that is enough before he finally takes in a deep breath, vision settling as he sees the crowd around them. Rafe is on the ground and his goons go to help him up. 

“This isn’t over,” Rafe says, blood dripping from his mouth before he turns to walk away, Topper and Kelce each holding an arm.

“Fuck,” JJ groans, fingers moving to his hair as he starts to walk away from the scene. Pope doesn’t say anything, simply follows after him with a grounding hand on his shoulder. 

———————————-

JJ shows up with bruises more often than he should. JJ always laughs it off, makes up random excuses that couldn’t be further from the truth. The pogues definitely don’t buy it, but they never push, they respect that JJ has some secrets he isn’t ready to reveal, will probably never reveal. 

Until he can’t hide it anymore. 

JJ has always liked the ocean. He remembers coming when he was younger, when his mother was still around. She used to hold his hand, teach him how to take deep breaths as the waves lap their feet. It was something he still did to this day. 

But he can’t hold himself up today. 

The darkness coats the sky, the moon shining off the water. The waves are rougher than usual tonight and JJ is basically soaked at this point, waves crashing against his chest, legs pulled up and arms wrapped around them in an attempt at comforting himself. 

“JJ?”

The words startle him, and he is quick to wipe at the tears dripping down his cheeks, frowning when the salt water stings the cuts that litter his face. 

JJ takes a moment to clear his throat, taking in a few deep breaths before he answers, making sure he doesn’t look at the other. The group has seen him patched up, but JJ has never shown up with fresh wounds before, ones that are harder to hide as blood runs over tan skin. “Out for a late night surf? The waves are killer tonight.” 

“Just needed to get away from my dad for a bit,” Pope answers and JJ can relate, but he’s sure in a totally different way. Pope’s dad always pressures him to do well in school, but he never hits him. JJ’s dad always starts and ends with hitting, coated with a bit of yelling. That was how he put pressure on him. “Why are you here?” 

“I’m just going for a late night swim, clear my head,” JJ lies, but it’s really only half a lie. He is here to clear his head, but he hadn’t really planned on it becoming a late night swim. He was probably going to get in trouble for ruining a perfectly good outfit. 

“In your clothes?” Pope is standing next to him now, hands in his pockets as he looks out at the horizon. JJ wants to look up, see what his expression is, but he knows he can’t. He can’t risk the other seeing his face. 

“It was spur of the moment,” he replies, letting his chin rest against his crossed arms. It’s starting to get a bit cold, causing a chill to travel up his spine. Pope doesn’t seem to notice as he takes a seat next to him, leaning back on his hands. 

“It’s peaceful without tourons.” And JJ has never wanted Pope to leave more. Actually, he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted Pope to leave before, but he wants to be alone right now. He wants to wallow in his own misery and forget about his shity life for a second. 

But then he is looking up again, his mother’s voice reminding him to just breath and he can’t help the tears that stream down his cheeks, shoulders shaking as he hides his face. He doesn’t know how Pope reacts, doesn’t bother looking up when he feels arms around him, pulling him closer and simply letting him cry.  

JJ doesn’t know when they leave. He also doesn’t know where the hell they are. The place is run down and shitty. Pope mentions something about the Chateau, but JJ can’t really place where he is referring too even though he’s heard them talk about it before. 

The couch is old, nothing compared to the expensive one he is used to at his house, but this one feels worn, loved, and comforting in a way JJ can only describe as homey, something that his couch will never have. The place is dim and messy and JJ is suddenly thankful for the lighting because there is still blood on his face and purple blotches forming on his skin. 

“I’m going to get the first aid kit,” Pope announces and JJ doesn’t even notice Pope’s hand on his shoulder until it is gone. He craves the comfort that it provided, the stability. It helped ground him in a way that only the ocean has been able to for years. 

JJ falls back against the couch, a groan leaving his lips at the ache in his side. Pope is in his line of sight again, frown pulling down his lips as he reaches forward. “Do you-?” He’s holding a face cloth, worn and frayed, out for JJ to take. 

JJ simply shakes his head, pain shooting through his chin at the motion. He doesn’t even know where to begin with his face and his arms are tired. He’s tired. 

Pope simply nods, doesn’t say anything as he presses the cold cloth to his face. JJ flinches at the touch, but doesn’t pull away, lets the other take care of him. He’s thankful when Pope starts to talk, words tumbling out of his lips. He never asks what happened, simply cleans JJ up and lets him fall asleep on the couch. 

-----------------------------

JJ blinks his eyes open the next morning, pain shooting through his cheek as he pushes himself up. The room is completely unfamiliar and instantly his heart is pounding as he looks around, trying to figure out where he is. It isn’t until he notices Pope in the corner that he calms down, taking in a deep breath. 

“Thank fuck you’re awake,” he hears, eyes flickering back to Pope. The other is leaning back in the chair across the room, looking awkward and uncomfortable as he pushes himself into a better sitting position. He looks worried. “I was fucking getting worried. It’s like noon.” 

JJ lets out a sigh as he pushes himself off the couch, eyes glancing around the dinghy place. He isn’t sure where he is, and it must show on his face because Pope is up now, explaining, “This is the Chateau, JB’s place.” JJ feels guilt suddenly as he looks around. He can’t imagine living in a house like this, small and worn. The paint was chipping and the wood looked like it was basically crumbling from years of abuse. 

But it looked like a home. And as JJ looks around, noticing pictures of JB and his family and friends, JJ can’t help the jealousy that bubbles. The place he calls home feels more like a prison than anything, the only picture of his family is a portrait that was painted when he was a child. This place was worn, but lived in and loved in a way JJ couldn’t even imagine. 

“I have to get home,” JJ says, because he is suddenly overwhelmed. These people have so much less money than him, but they have so much more than he could ever ask for. He would throw all his money away to have this kind of love and friendship in his house rather than the cold blank walls and the cruel touch of his father's hand. 

“What? You can stay here. JB won’t mind,” Pope insists, following him out the door. JJ takes a deep breath, sucks it right into his lungs as fast as he can. He has to lean over for a moment, hands on his knees and Pope’s hand suddenly on his shoulder. He finches away from the touch as he looks at the other. 

“I have to go,” he repeats but instead of heading to the road he heads towards the water. He nearly collapses on the dock, legs pulled up and fingers running through his hair. Pope doesn’t follow, he’s thankful as he listens to the waves, taking in a breath with each wave that hits the dock. He stays there until his breath evens out and he is able to fully realize how embarrassed he is. He just freaked out for basically no reason. 

He wants to just leave, make his way back home, but he doesn’t know where JB lives so he doesn’t know how to get home and his phone is long dead. It doesn’t matter anyway because Pope is sitting on the deck, book in his lap and feet resting on the table in front of the couch. He has a cup of what JJ assumes is coffee steaming on the table and he notices a matching cup next to it. 

JJ composes himself as best he can, tugging at his wrinkled shirt and tucking it in. He shakes his head and pulls it back out before he finally steps onto the porch. 

It’s another space that is clearly lived in. The couches are old and JJ sinks into the cushion as he takes a seat next to Pope, grabbing the coffee on the table. He’s surprised Pope made it correctly, surprised Pope paid such close attention since he’s only ordered coffee a few times at The Wreck. 

“My dad has a mean right jab,” JJ says, voice quiet as he takes a sip of his coffee. It’s hot but he could use the distraction. 

“That looks like more than a right jab.” Pope puts the book down, making sure to fold down the corner before he places it on the table. He grabs the coffee as well. 

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs and he doesn’t look at Pope, can’t look at Pope because it’s always pity when people find out. He doesn’t need Pope’s pity, doesn’t want it. He just wants to go back in time, run the other way when the other showed up on the beach. 

“But you don’t deserve it.” 

The words are new. There are very few people that know about his abuse but none have ever said that, none have said that he doesn’t deserve it. 

“I’m a failure.” He can hear his father. “I’m worthless.” He closes his eyes because he doesn’t want to cry, tries to hold the tears back, but they slip out anyway. They slide down his cheek and drip from his chin. 

He wants to drop it, to move on from this conversation, has a new topic on the tip of his tongue, but Pope is right in front of him, hand moving tentatively to his cheek. “Why would you say that? You’re not a failure and definitely not worthless.” 

JJ tugs his head away, out of Pope’s grip, as he lets out a puff of air through his nose. “Most people would disagree.” His father would disagree and that’s really the only voice that matters because it’s literally been hit into him his whole life. 

“JJ,” and JJ finally looks at him, blue meeting brown eyes as he looks into Pope’s. He sucks in a breath as he looks at the other, searching his eyes for any hint of his father's words, but he doesn’t find any. “I’ve only known you a few months and I know you’re not a failure. I know you’d do anything to protect your friends. I know you bring extra food on our boat trips just to make sure JB and I have snacks for the week. I know that you’re loyal and I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that you aren’t worthless.” 

And Pope is usually a rambler, but those words are crystal clear and they literally take JJ’s breath away. It’s so stupid really, because JJ is completely in love with Pope and the other didn’t even know it. He’s been in love with Pope for so long now and he doesn’t think he can hold it in any longer, not after that. 

So JJ leans forward, slow and steady, and lets Pope close that gap. To his relief, he does, pressing his lips to JJ’s, tentative and warm. It isn’t anything like the girls he’s dated in the past (if you can call a few days with the same girl dating). They were soft, needy in a way that JJ never liked. He actually stopped kissing his conquests after a while. Pope was different though, he was slow, but sure, lips firm against JJ’s without being demanding. The fingers on his face have calluses from working, rough against the cut along his jaw. 

JJ wants to stay like this forever, drown in the feeling of the other, but he has to pull back, has to get one more thing out before this goes any further. “My dad can’t find out,” he mutters because he knows the man won’t approve, has always made comments. It’s why it had taken JJ so long to even work up the courage to accept he had feelings for a guy nonetheless actually kiss said guy. 

“Yeah, okay, we can do that, we can-” and he’s rambling a little, obviously nervous so JJ simply leans forward to connect their lips again, happy when the other finally shifts so he can straddle JJ’s lap. 

“Fuck, took you idiots long enough.” The two spring apart at the words, both sets of eyes going to John B, who is currently standing at the top of his stairs, a mischievous smile on his lips. Pope slips off his lap and JJ instantly wants him back. “I mean, don’t stop on my account. I’m just grabbing some food before I head to my next job.” 

And they don’t stop. John B is in and out after only a few minutes and JJ instantly finds himself an arm full of Pope as he leans over to connect their lips again. 

[vsquadgoals]

Little Miracle (H.H)

Warning: Mentions of infertility, and IVF

Summary: Y/n telling her fiance Heath that she’s pregnant. 

5 Days... 5 days whole days. Y/n was supposed to get her period 5 days ago. Her and her fiancé Heath have been trying to have a baby for almost a year with no luck and it was starting to really worry Y/n, until now. Y/n was in the guest bathroom with a camera propped up on the bathroom counter while she sat on the floor in front of it. “Hi everyone. I know what you’re thinking why are you on the bathroom floor and where is Heath?” She took breath tears prickling in her eyes. “So, Heath and I have been trying to get pregnant for almost a year now and I’ve filmed intros like this a million times but you’ve never seen them because it didn’t turn out the way we would have hoped. So, if you’re watching this video then that means my feelings are real.” She wiped a tear that fell from her eye. “My period is 5 days late, and I’ve been completely exhausted for about a week now but those are my only symptoms.” Y/n pauses for a second overwhelmed by her emotions. She puts her forehead against her knees that she’s been holding to her chest and a few sobs leave her lips. When she looks back at the camera her eyes are red, and her face is a little flushed. She wipes her face with her t shirt before continuing. “I’m in the guest bathroom because it’s very early and Heath is still sleeping so I don’t want him to hear me because if I am pregnant, I want to surprise him. So,” She checks her phone, “I have another minute on my timer until I can look at the test.” She runs her fingers through her hair. “This has been really hard on us. When you’re trying to start a family with the person you love and it’s just not happening, but you see it happening for so many other people it breaks your heart and its very discouraging. Heath and I are very healthy people, we take good care of our bodies and we’ve been doing everything that we can to try to make it happen without having to get help.” Tears are now streaming down Y/n’s cheeks and she doesn’t bother to stop them anymore. “It’s also hard when your family and friends are constantly asking you ‘So, when are you guys going to have a baby?’ but it’s not their fault, they’re just excited and they know how badly we want to start our family. But if it doesn’t happen for us this month we’re going to go to the doctors and start IVF treatments.” She has to stop again sobs leaving her lips. She closes her eyes and puts her head against the wall behind her. “Please, Please.” She whispers to herself. “Please let this be positive.” Y/n sighs and wipes her eyes and bites her lip when her timer chirps quietly next to her, she turns off the timer and looks at the camera and tries her best to smile. “I guess it’s time, here goes nothing.” She takes a deep breath and picks up the test closing her eyes. She says a few silent prayers and decides to show the camera first, she places the test in front of the camera not able to see the results because she has the viewfinder closed. She takes a few more breathes before turning the test around and looking at it herself.  

Y/n breaks down immediately, she’s sobbing on the bathroom floor her hand that isn’t holding the test clamps over her mouth trying to stay quiet. She composes herself as much as possible before looking back at the camera tears still streaming uncontrollably down her face. “It’s positive.” She whispers biting her lip to keep it from quivering. “Oh my gosh.” She breathes smiling wide. “Oh my gosh how am I going to tell Heath?” She giggles and shakes her head holding the test close to her chest a few more sobs slipping past her lips. She looks at the camera. “Heath, I love you so much Bear, you’re going to be the best daddy in the whole world.” She kisses the lens of the camera before turning it off. Y/n sits on the bathroom floor staring at the test tears pouring down her cheeks until her legs go numb. She finally stands and sighs, she splashes her face with cold water and tries to clean herself up before she leaves the bathroom. She hides the test under the sink in the guest bathroom, somewhere Heath would never find it. When y/n comes out of the bathroom she puts her camera back on the counter, thankfully she had her own so Heath would never look through it and find the footage.  

Y/n is standing in her and Heath’s shared walk in closet picking out clothes for the day when Heath walks in, he wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her shoulder. “Morning Bear.” She says smiling trying to act as normal as possible. “Morning.” He mumbles against her shoulder his voice still deep from sleep. “We have the podcast to do later right?” She asks as she picks out a plain white t shirt and a pair of lose fitting boyfriend jeans to wear today. Heath let’s go of her and nods starting to pick out his own outfit for the day. Heath picked out his usual outfit, a t shirt and a pair of shorts. “So, I’m gonna run a few errands before the podcast but I’ll be back in time for it.” Y/n says before kissing Heaths cheek and heading toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. Heath followed behind her. “Want me to come with you?” He asks as she gets into the shower, Y/n mentally cursed herself trying to come up with an excuse for why she had to go alone. “Um... no that’s okay, Zane and Matt usually come early to hangout before the podcast so you should be here because I don’t know how long It’ll take.” She says loud enough for him to hear her over the shower. Heath nods and starts getting ready for the day.  

It was about an hour later when Y/n is done getting ready, she finds Heath in his office doing some stuff on his computer. Y/n sits on his lap and kisses his lips, Heath wraps his arms around her waist and kisses her back smiling against her lips. “I’ll be back in time for the podcast I promise.” She says after they separate from the kiss. Heath nods and pecks her lips a few more times. “Be safe cutie. I’ll see you soon.” Heath says as she leaves the office. “I love you bear.” She calls over her shoulder hearing a faint “I love you too.” from Heath. Y/n lets out a sigh of relief, she grabs her purse and camera from the counter before she leaves the house closing the front door behind her. Once she was in her Jeep, she props the camera on her dashboard and turns it on starting to record. She puts her seatbelt on and smiles at the camera before backing out of the driveway and heading toward Target.  

���Well hello again friends.” She says talking to the camera keeping her eyes on the road. “I’m back and a lot more composed then the last time you saw me which was a few hours ago. I’m still in shock I think, I also am the only person that knows so it doesn’t feel real yet.” She bites her lip and smiles shaking her head. “I’m on my way to Target, Heath is still at home, today is a podcast filming day so I told him to stay home while I went to the store. I’m going to get him the stuff to surprise him and tell him that he’s going to be a daddy.” She squeals and smiles wide super excited. “So, my plan is to get a box and to put little baby shoes or something in it with a t shirt that says ‘Papa Bear’ with the pregnancy test and a note that says, ‘Hey dad! Due date to be determined.’ Hopefully I’ll be able to get everything at Target cause I need to get back to film the podcast. I’m also going to get myself a t shirt that says, ‘Mama Bear’.” Y/n can’t wipe the smile off of her face as she talks to the camera. “I will check back in with you all at Target.” She turns off the camera and puts it into her purse.  

Y/n climbs back into her Jeep after leaving Target with all of her bags. She puts the camera back on the dashboard and starts filming. “So, I tried to film inside of Target and got yelled at of course.” She rolls her eyes and chuckles. “So, I’ll show you everything I got, thankfully they had everything.” She holds up the two t shirts one by one, before holding up a pair of brown bear baby booties and squealing. “Aren’t these the cutest things you’ve ever seen?!” She asks excited. “And then I just got a little blank index card and some markers to write the note and I got the box, and I have the test at home.” She explains and smiles wide into the camera. “It’s going to be so cute right?” Y/n sighs happily. “I can’t believe this is finally happening.” She says biting her lip not wanting to cry again, she fans her face and giggles. “I’ve already cried WAY too much in this video!” She says shaking her head. “Welp! I think I’ll try to film the box all put together before I surprise Heath later tonight. If I don’t explode from keeping this to myself before then.” She shuts the camera off and takes the time now to set most of the box up, so she doesn’t have to do too much at home and risk Heath walking in on her. She writes the note, sets up the box placing the ‘Papa Bear’ t shirt on the bottom, the baby booties on top with the note and then she just had to add the pregnancy test. Y/n also got some toiletries stuff that they needed at the house and a few groceries just so it didn’t look suspicious when she came home empty handed.  

Y/n put the box into the Target bag with her t shirt and put it on the floor of the passenger seat. She called Heath once she pulled out of the parking space. “Hey Y/n/n.” He said once he answered the phone. Y/n smiled, “Hi bear, I should be home shortly. Are Zane and Matt there yet?” She asks praying they were so it would distract Heath a little when she got to the house. “HEY BABY!!!!” She heard Zane yelling in the background causing her to giggle. “Does that answer your question?” She giggles again. “Yes. Okay well I should be home very soon. I just have to put the groceries and stuff away before we can start recording when I get home.” She tells him hoping it’ll buy her some time to finish the box and hide it when she got back. “Okay sounds good. I love you; I’ll see you soon.” “I love you too Bear.” She says before he hangs up the phone.  

Y/n brings all the bags inside leaving the one with the box for last, she brings it into the guest bathroom upstairs along with a package of toilet paper and puts the pregnancy test she had hidden in there in the box, she turns her camera on and films the box whispering to the camera. “So, this is the finished product.”

She whispers before hiding it and putting some of the toilet paper in there and putting the rest in their bathroom connected to their bedroom. She makes her way back downstairs and puts the rest of the stuff away before going to the podcast room to meet with the boys. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” She says hugging Zane and Matt before kissing Heath’s lips quickly. “No problem y/n/n.” Heath says as she sets up the audio and Matt sets up the cameras making sure they’re all recording and have enough space on the memory card. Once everything is set up and mics are checked Y/n smiles at Heath and Zane. “We’re ready and recording.” She says causing them to smile and nod starting their intro and the ball is rolling. It takes every bone in her body to not say anything about being pregnant the whole podcast even when Matt brings it up asking the two of them when they’re going to have a baby. The question causes Heath to frown and shrug. “We’re trying guys, we have been for a while. Hopefully it happens soon, and we don’t have to go through IVF.” He says before glancing over at Y/n giving her a sad smile. “It’ll happen soon I hope, I just don’t want to do IVF because it’s so hard on your body and it makes it so much more stressful. My cousin did it and it worked thankfully but she said it was awful and a very tiring, and hard process.” Y/n says shrugging biting her lip. Matt and Zane frown nodding before changing the subject not wanting to upset the couple. Heath blows Y/n a kiss and she smiles returning the gesture.

Finally, the podcast is over, and they turn off all the equipment and Y/n takes the memory cards from the cameras and sends the audio to her computer in the office so she can edit the podcast tomorrow. Matt and Zane hang around and they have dinner together, it’s around 8:30 when the boys finally leave the house.  Heath is downstairs cleaning everything up while Y/n is upstairs, her heart is racing she’s so nervous. She sets up the camera in their bedroom where Heath won’t see it and gets the box from the bathroom along with the t shirt she got herself which she hides in their closet. Once everything is set up how she wants it and she presses record on the camera she goes to the top of the stairs. “Bear? Can you come to the bedroom?” Heath makes his way to the bedroom where Y/n is standing holding the box behind her back. “Sit on the bed.” She says biting her lip nervously. “What’s going on?” He chuckles sitting on the bed. “I saw something at the store, and I had to get it for you.” She tells him handing him the box which is has a small piece of tape keeping it closed. “Don’t shake it.” She warns when he takes it. Heath chuckles and smiles at her when she sits on the bed making sure not to get in the way of the camera which she hopes Heath hasn’t noticed, but his eyes have been glued to her since he came into the bedroom.  

“Y/n, you know you never have to get me anything.” he says pecking her lips, she smiles and shakes her head. “You’re going to love this, I promise. Now open it already.” She says giggling. Heath rolls his eyes and opens the box, his heart immediately starts racing and tears are streaming down his face, he looks at Y/n who’s already practically sobbing. “Really?” He whispers small sobs escaping his lips. Y/n smiles through her tears and nods her head. “I found out this morning.” She says her voice cracking a little. Heath pulls her onto his lap and buries his face into her chest sobbing. They stay like that for a while, just holding each other and crying. “How did you keep this to yourself all day?” He finally asks looking up at her. She shakes her head and shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s been killing me, and then when Matt brought it up earlier, I thought I was going to explode, especially how sad you got.” Y/n says giggling and pecking Heath’s lips. Heath picks up the ‘papa bear’ shirt and smiles wide. “I love this.” Y/n giggles and climbs off his lap and grabs hers from the closet and holds it up showing him when she gets back to the bed. Heath smiles wide and shakes his head. “That’s so god damn adorable.” He puts the shirt down and pulls her close by her hips and kisses her belly. “Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for you little one.” He says against her still very unpregnant looking belly, but it still causes her eyes to fill with tears. Y/n smiles and pulls away from his grasp and gets the camera from its hiding spot and points it toward her fiancé. “So, tell the people how you’re feeling about becoming a dad.” she says smirking behind the camera at his surprised look. “You filmed that? God, I knew I was marrying you for a reason.” He teases causing the two of them to chuckle. “I’m so excited, I can’t wait to have a family with the love of my life.” Heath says looking more at her then the camera. “I love you bear” she says turning the camera off after he says it back.  

They lay in the bed holding each other for a while tears coming every once and a while. Heath is the first one to break the silence. “So, if you recorded this, did you record you finding out?” he asks looking down at her. Y/n nods which causes Heath to smile wide. “Can we watch it? I wanna see.” Y/n nods again. “Yeah sure. It’s a lot of crying though.” She says warning him as she takes her camera and they go into the office. Heath sits at the desk and Y/n sits on his lap plugging in the memory card and bringing up the footage from this morning. “I don’t know how much of it I’ll put in, its long and really a lot.” Heath nods and kisses her shoulder. “Whatever you’re comfortable with mama.” He says the name causing her to smile wide. Once she has the video pulled up, she presses play and leans back into Heath whose arms are wrapped tightly around her waist while he watches.  

Heath has tears streaming down his face as he watches the pain in his fiancé's eyes in the beginning of the video, he of course knew that it was hard on her trying to get pregnant, but he didn’t realize how badly she was hurting. He also had no idea how many times she had filmed herself taking tests and them being negative, she always took tests without Heath because she wanted to surprise him. Most of the time she was alone except one time she took one and Kristen was with her, the two of them cried together for almost an hour. Kristen had been Y/n’s saving grace during this year, she was always there for her to comfort her and give her someone to talk to. Y/n would talk to Heath, but she knew it was hard for him too, so she never wanted to make things worse or risk him wanting to give up. Heath holds her tighter; he watches her hold the positive test up to the camera and you can very clearly see two dark pink lines. “Glad that was in focus.” She mumbles causing Heath to chuckle a little. He cries as he watches her reaction after seeing the test, all of the sadness leaving her body and pure happiness and relief replacing it.  

Y/n closes the video when it ends and takes out the card putting it back in her camera. “You have to post the whole thing.” Heath tells her wiping his face with his hands. Y/n looks at him confused. “You think so?” Heath nods and kisses her shoulder. “I think it will help a lot of people, let them know that if they’re going through something similar, they aren’t alone.” Heath explains, Y/n nods and kisses Heath. “You’re right, I love you.” She whispers against his lips. He cups her cheek and smiles. “I love you more. Now let’s go get some sleep.” He turns off the computer before standing from the chair picking Y/n up bridal style causing her to giggle the whole way to their bedroom, he finally puts her down once they’re in the room allowing her to do her nighttime routine. Heath is in bed when she finally finishes and lays next to him. Heath wraps his arms around her and lays his head on her stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you little one. I’m going to be the best dad I possibly can.” He says softly kissing her stomach. Y/n smiles wide and runs her hands through Heaths hair as he whispers to their little miracle growing inside of her.  

A/n: Let me know if you guys want this to me a series or something! I kinda am obsessed and wanna cry after writing this.