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macfrog · 1 year ago

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you'll hurt me if you don't trust me sex on fire chapter eight

super special sparkly shoutout to @chloeangelic ✨💛✨ whose influence inspired a whole load of intimacy in this. it is, unashamedly, eleven thousand words of sheer self-indulgence. so. love u guys. see u soon

pairing: ceo!joel x fem!reader

summary: you’re unwell. joel makes you feel better. until he doesn’t.

warnings: age gap (reader is late 20s, joel late 40s), workplace relationship, imbalanced power dynamic, cursing, sugardaddy!joel, softsoftsoft!joel, they eat chinese food together, reader has her period + mention/description of used tampon, discussion of abandonment/absent parents & parental death, discussion of cheating, lying, thigh riding, unprotected piv period shower sex (that is a mouthful thatswhatshesaid), VERY needy reader, SLIGHT dacryphilia (kinda not really?), creampie, aftercare joel, praise kink, daddy kink, angst & fluff & angst all over again

word count: 11k

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Martha had been pretty good about it. She’d watched you near-doubled in pain most of yesterday, hobbling to the kitchen every four hours to top up on pain meds. She knew you weren’t making it up. She made a conservative two jokes about you calling in this morning, and then told you to rest up. She’d let Joel know you’d be back tomorrow.

“You owe me, though. Joel’s got that shareholders meeting today. If I’m forced to sit in with him ‘n his cronies talkin’ numbers and takin’ notes, sweetheart, all so you can catch up on The Bachelorette…”

Alright. Three jokes.

You hang up and slide the phone back across your nightstand; roll over and stuff a pillow between your thighs as if that’ll do anything against the dull throb gnawing at your belly. Your shades are tilted upward, shrinking your bedroom into a foggy gray save for the shards of light which split across the ceiling.

There’s a heavy ache tugging behind your eyes, an irritating weight which shoves you into the arms of sleep and then pulls you back by the hair before you’re taken off by it. You’re dozing, fingertips massaging your eyelids and stretching the skin back and forth when the doorbell slices the stillness of your apartment in two, shrill in your sleep-deprived ears.

You ignore it at first. Fuck that. Fuck whoever that is. You’re not planning on leaving your cocoon today unless it’s to go pee, grab a snack, or maybe if you lose the remote in your sheets.

But it rings out again. Twice, this time. And in a blur of hormonal rage, you whip the sheets back, throw yourself out of bed and stagger down the hallway. You straighten up only enough to peer through the peephole, your palms pressed to the back of the door, and that’s when you see him.

He’s cradling a brown bag in his left arm, a second dangling from his wrist. His head is huge in comparison to his body, owing to the distorted fisheye glass. He shifts from foot to foot impatiently, awkwardly glancing down the hall. You’d recognize that jawline fucking anywhere.

Your breath pushes nervously against the door. You click the lock and curl around the heavy wood, your fingers clamping on the edge.

The two of you eye one another up and down before Joel speaks.

“Hi, darlin’.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Martha said you were sick?”

You pause. Look down to the bunch of wild flowers sat in the crook of his elbow, and then back up to his face, painted with – what is it – concern? There are lines you rarely see when he’s looking at you, carved deep between his brows.

A fire strikes in your belly.

“…I’m fine. I’m – I’m all good. Just – feeling a little…”

“What is it? Is it the flu? I brought flu stuff.” He nods into the bag, and reaches inside for a box of cold tablets and a pack of tissues. He tosses them across the threshold and you catch them, holding them close against your shoulder.

You smile, trying to hold back on a laugh, but also because what the fuck? He’s so sweet. The flames lick at the bottom of your lungs.

“It’s not…it’s not the flu, no.”

Joel nods, looking back into the bag. “Good thing I also brought these, then.”

He tilts it forward and you unhook from the door, leaning over to peer in. A box of Tampax, two bottles of painkillers, green packets of face masks and floral sachets of herbal teas. You fish one out.

“Chamomile,” you muse, pouting.

He shrugs. “Lady at the store said it’s a good muscle relaxant, I don’t know.”

“Don’t you have a meeting today?”

“Cancelled it. You freaked me out.”

Your heart knocks on your chest wall. Did you fucking hear that? You freaked him out. You gulp in response. Swallow hard to shut it the hell up.

“So, Martha’s in the office by herself?”

“She’s a big girl. Told her she could leave early if she got my to-do list done. I give it until one,” he mutters, glancing down at his watch. “Oh,” he says then, spotting the brush of green and burst of purple in his arm, “got you these. I don’t know what you like yet, but…”

Yet. Yet yet yet.

You take the posy delicately between your fingers, as if it might fall apart at the mere touch of your hand. The brown paper crinkles as it lifts from Joel’s arm, and you tilt them in the hallway’s milky light.

The sprigs shoot in wild directions, tangling and twisting around one another. Daisies, lazy in their climb, swirling around the gentle brush of lavender, wrapped tightly to some other flower you don’t recognize. They’re tied together in a neat, white lace bow.

You imagine Joel stood in the middle of some fragrant florist, rotating on the spot. Dumbfounded before some assistant in a flowing skirt and tinkling bracelets sweeps over to him. I don’t know what she likes – yet, he tells them. And your heart screams into the pillow of muscle surrounding it.

“Thank you.” The smile on your lips threatens to break into a grin. At the same time, a shot of pain rips across your belly. “Come in,” you groan through a wince, taking his shirt in your fist and pulling him inside.

Your apartment is probably a couple years too small for you. You’ve accumulated so much in the time you’ve lived here that you could do with finding a bigger place – but you’re comfortable. It feels like home, when nowhere did for so long. It’s snug, and humble, and as you lead him down your hallway, you imagine you’re feeling how Joel probably did when he showed you around his childhood home.

Your cheeks flush with something a little blunter than embarrassment, but prickled with nerves. Your living room rolls its eyes inward, every object looking over in suspicion and wonder. Who the hell is this man, in your space, armed with toiletries and a ten-grand watch on his wrist?

You pause by the sink, filling a glass with water for the flowers. Your teeth bite down on your lip. There are dishes on the counter, there’s laundry piled on stools, blankets and cushions strewn messily across your couch. Joel shakes his head when you apologize, holds a palm up when you try to explain how you’d gotten home from work last night and gone straight to bed. I haven’t had the energy to clean.

He won’t hear it. Says he’s not here to see your clean apartment. Here to see you.

He sets the bags on the worktop and looks around the room. Blinks from the sheer curtains guarding the balcony doors, to the pastel candles on your coffee table. Smiles when he notices the Pretty Woman poster framed above the couch.

“What?” you ask, when his eyes finally land back on you. You tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it further down your bare thighs.

“Nothin’. Just – knew there was somethin’ more to you.”

You fold your arms and rock forward gently on the balls of your feet. Your head tilts. Your brows knit.

Joel clarifies, “I knew you weren’t as put together as you pretend to be at work. This – looks like your place. That’s all.”

“Oh, yeah? ‘n what does my place look like?

His cheeks lift. “Little all over the place. Little surprising. But bright. Cozy. You.”

“Bright ‘n cozy,” you echo.

He nods. Purses his lips, then adds, “And great in bed.”

You cough a laugh, reach out to shove his arm, and he catches your hand. He reels you in against his body and cups your head, fixing some flyaway strands of hair. You stare up at him, eyelashes slowly blinking him in and out of focus. His mottled beard and hazel eyes. The flecks of honeydew and amber swimming around his pupil. His shirt wrinkles beneath your chin.

“You hungry?” he asks, voice rumbling through his chest. You seem to understand the vibrations sooner than the words, these days. He reaches for the handles of the white bag, sliding it over towards you. “I brought lunch.”

“You brought lunch.” You scoff, grinning to yourself. It quickly fades, though, when your hand lowers into the bag and meets a warm, flat surface – two halves of a folded lid. Your brows pull. “You brought…”

Joel smiles as you lift the box, popping it open. Hot steam escapes the minute the lid folds back.

“Chinese okay? I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise by callin’ to ask what you wanted. I can run out and grab somethin’ else if you’re not –”

“How did you know to get…?” Your voice whittles to nothing as you stare down at the fresh-cooked meal, the bed of greasy noodles mixed with fried vegetables. Your tongue swipes at the corners of your mouth.

“’cause I know you,” Joel says, digging for a second box from the bag. “Anytime you’re stressed with work, anytime I give you a hard day, that’s what you order in for lunch, right?” He nods to the container as he tosses an egg roll into his mouth.

You giggle, lifting the box to hide your swollen cheeks. Your heartbeat hammers below your jaw.

“Right?” Joel laughs. “Chow mein? I’m right, ain’t I? You know I’m right.”

He nudges against you, taking his own lunch from the bag, and casts a familiar glance – the same one you saw a few days ago in Lavender Oaks. Like the decades-old mask slips just for a second and suddenly, a younger, shyer Joel shines through. He’s almost imperceptible, almost concealed by the cocky smirk and witty remarks of his older self, but you’ve seen him once, and now – he’s impossible to lose sight of.

“You’re weird,” you note, spinning off towards your bedroom.

Joel’s hot at your heels. “I’m weird?”

“Uhuh. For noticing that.”

He snorts, and then you feel a slap to your ass cheek. “Nice underwear, by the way. Who’d you steal them from?” he murmurs close to your ear, averting your gaze when you turn back, beaming.

You pad across the soft rug to your bed, dropping down and pulling the sheets back to make room for Joel. He’s setting his food down. You think to offer him a change of clothes – something more comfortable than a dress shirt and suit trousers – but the best you’d have is an oversized tee, and not much else.

The thought almost dizzies you. Joel, in his boxers and a t-shirt from your wardrobe. A shirt that smells like you, feels like you, belongs to you. A piece of you, hung from his shoulders like it was always meant to be shared between you. The way it’d still smell of him even after the sun had set and he’d peeled it from his body, folded it into a pile at the end of your bed and left in his button up.

He sits on the edge of your mattress to kick his shoes off, and marvels some more at the room just like he did in the kitchen. The fire in your chest is slowly turning your lungs to ash, stealing breath each time his dimples appear – squinting at the framed photographs on your dresser, tilting his head to read the titles of the books on your shelves.

When he catches sight of the paint-splattered easel in the corner, he turns back. Your eyes are already locked back on your chow mein, refusing to meet his. He doesn’t say anything. Just shuffles up against the headboard, nudges your knee with his own.

“You get that at the concert?” he asks, eyes a little south of yours.

You glance down. You’re wearing an old Queen tour tee, graphic print accompanied by 1986 in multicolored lettering. A little before your grand entrance on the planet. A little after Joel’s.

“Rod’s Retro, eastside,” you reply. “You find some cool stuff in there, Mr. CEO.”

Joel’s chin lifts, considering. “Hm,” he says, “you gonna take me someday?”

You nod. Maybe a little too eagerly. It doesn’t feel like you ought to care. “Um, yes. You would fucking love it. Half my wardrobe is thrifted.”

He nods once – banking the information. “Every day, I learn somethin’ new.”

“Shut up,” you quip, kicking him gently. “How come I never get to learn anything new about you?”

He shrugs, chewing. “Self-absorbed.”

You kick him for real this time. He laughs into his takeout box.

“I’m messing with you. You know plenty about me. You met my mom the other day, for cryin’ out loud.”

“Not enough. Don’t know where you get all your clothes from, or what your comfort food is.”

He replies through a mouthful of chop suey. “Then, ask.”

Your voice is high, defensive. “No. That’s too easy.”

Joel snorts.

You reach for the remote and click the screen opposite to life. Joel lifts his arm to let you sink against his body, and you flick through the channels. Shark Tank, Grey’s Anatomy, Wendy fucking Williams, and then –

You gasp. Joel looks up from his food. His brows arch, eyes flitting from you to the screen. You swear a groan escapes from his lips. You feel the thunder against your ear.

“You ever seen it?”

“Dirty Dancing? Yeah, I’ve seen Dirty Dancing, pretty girl.”

“You probably saw it at the movies, right? When it came out? In the eighties?”

“Careful.”

You smile. “What did you think of it?”

Joel’s shoulders lift. His eyes are back on the screen. Be My Baby is crooning from the TV. “I liked Patrick Swayze,” he says.

You watch him, waiting for him to continue. When he doesn’t, you lean closer. “You…you liked Patrick Swayze?”

“Yeah,” Joel says, like it’s obvious. He turns back to you, one eyebrow raised. “He was cool. You don’t like ‘im in it?”

“No, I like Patrick Swayze,” you tell him. “Just…if that’s all you like about it, then…we might have a problem.”

He scoffs. “I don’t remember much of it, to tell you the truth.”

“Good. We’re watching it.”

Your head moves with his chest as he sucks in a deep, defeated breath. “Baby, I –”

“Ah,” you tap the remote on his knuckles, “you remember the Baby part.”

With a laugh which sounds an awful lot like approval and a grunt which sounds an awful lot like Alright, Joel sinks lower into the mattress. You drape your legs across his, and when he finishes eating, his fingers draw round shapes on your hot skin, daring past the hem of his own boxers on your thighs.

Somewhere around the lake scene, you notice your hand intertwined with his. Locked together, surfing over one another, squeezing and then loosening. Tracing the curve of each other’s palms and learning the lines scored into the skin. Fingertips becoming fluent in the landscape of one another’s bodies. Mapping them, like you’re afraid to forget.

Your eyes glass over, whether from fatigue, or from the now smoldering fire inside you, or from something harder to pinpoint. Your head feels heavy, leaning on Joel’s chest, listening to the drum of his heart against your ear. It sounds familiar, like you’ve known it forever. Like you can almost hear the whisperings between the soft thudding.

You start when you feel him moving beneath you. He groans, stretches his arms, and then snakes them around your body. The end credits are rolling. The movie’s over. You weren’t asleep, but you missed half of it. Your mind elsewhere – though you have no idea where.

Maybe you do. Maybe that’s not something you can bear – yet. Yet yet yet.

You crane your neck and look up to your boss. He’s already staring right back at you. His eyes widen.

“What did you think?” you ask sleepily.

He sniffs. “It’s good. Very politically charged. Lotsa Swayze.”

Your lips curve, cheek nuzzles into his shirt. “Very us, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. Especially that part in the water. When he –” his arms lift, holding an invisible Baby up – “y’know? You ‘n me, we do that all the time.”

“I hate you.”

He tightens his grip around your shoulders and lifts you closer, smiling. You think, when his eyes dart for half a second to your lips, that he might kiss you. You think you want him to. But he simply asks, “You want some tea?” and reaches over to swipe the empty containers from your nightstand.

You nod. “I’ll come help.”

“I got it,” he assures in that Southern gentleman tone, steady hand on your thigh as he slips out of bed.

“You don’t even know where the mugs are.”

Joel considers this for all of five seconds. Shrugs. Tells you, “I’ll figure it out,” and disappears through to the kitchen.

You lay back and close your eyes, counting each cupboard door opening and then immediately falling shut as he makes his way around the place, seeking out your collection of mugs. When he eventually opens what must be the right one, you hear him exclaim.

“Ha! First try.”

You snort, bleary eyes opening again to focus on the TV. They’re discussing the Kardashians on The View. Your eyebrows lift in agreement as if you’re sat in the studio with them. They move on to some segment on the president.

Joel returns a few minutes later, two mugs in hand, and passes you the one shaped like a ghost.

“Cute,” you whisper, taking it in both hands.

He flashes you a proud grin as he lays back down, sipping on a black coffee in a faded mug your mom gave you years ago.

You tap your nail against the ceramic in his hands. “World’s Best Daughter.”

“That’s me,” he replies, propping himself up on an elbow. “Your mom get you it?”

Your head drops, eyes staring at him from under low brows. “No. My fucking neighbor did.”

He stares back as he lifts the mug to his lips. They melt in a kiss against the ceramic. When he pulls it away again, he swallows, and says, “You’re close to her.”

“My neighbor? Yeah, she lives right next door.”

“Easy, smartass.”

You flash him a smug grin, which dissolves as quickly as you notice his eyes lingering on the half-heart charm around your neck. By instinct, your fingers clutch the smooth gold, as if protecting the smallest part of yourself from him. The only part you’ve never let him in on.

But there’s something in his eye – something that feels less like a spotlight and more like a warm fire. Sharing secrets muted by the sputtering of wood, held safely by the round rusty glow of the flames. Something kinder. Something protective.

“Yeah,” you say, voice crackling, “we’re closer ‘n anyone. Been through a lot together.”

Joel nods. He knew that already. “I’ll bet, pretty girl.”

And in typical Joel fashion, he doesn’t press for any more than you willingly offer. A part of you kind of wants him to ask more, wants him to push you. A weight jumps at the bottom of your chest, like the words fail to launch. And before you can retry, before you can confess more of yourself into his hands, he says –

“Ask me som’.”

You stall, and look at him intently. “What?”

“Anything you want. Free pass.”

Your cheeks swell. “What do you mean?”

“If we’re sharin’ things, ‘s only fair we both do.”

“I don’t – We don’t have to –”

“Ask me,” he says slowly, eyebrows twitching.

“O-kay…”

You push a deep breath from your lips, cheeks globing as you scan around the room for inspiration. Something casual enough that you can ask it with ease, but deep enough that he’ll give you an answer worth sinking your teeth into. Something you don’t know about him; light enough to roll off your tongue, and then heavy when it lands in your palms.

Your gaze orbits back to his patient form and you ask, “How did you get the money to start your company?”

Joel seems to feel the weight of it when he catches it. Heavy, rather than light. Deep, rather than casual. He opens his mouth, runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek before he answers. “My, uh…my dad. He had a little bit of money.”

“He invest in it?”

“No, no. He, uh…he left it when he died.”

Your lips pull in a wince. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, and Joel looks up.

“’s okay, baby,” he replies, with a soft chuckle that makes the loose collar of his shirt quiver. He pushes some hair out of your face, settles his hand on your knee.

You hook two fingers around his thumb. He squeezes lightly.

“He musta loved you a lot. Leavin’ you so much.”

Another deep breath. His body stiffens. You think to unlock your fingers and take his hand properly, comfort him, maybe – but he’s already lifting it, scratching his beard with his thumb. He watches a bubble swirl around in his mug until it disappears with a pop into the dark coffee, and he finally looks up.

“It’s kinda…complicated. He and my mom – they were married for years, ‘n he ended up…” Joel swallows. His jaw clenches. “He cheated on her. Had this mistress for months. Mom found out through a friend of hers. She kicked him out of the house, but they never divorced. Just stayed separated until he died, ‘n then he left all his money to her.”

“To your mom?”

Joel nods. “She didn’t want a penny of it. Hated the man ‘til the day he died ‘n beyond.”

And you believe it. Ruth Miller was kind, warm and charming to you. She laughed with you, she smiled like she’d known you her whole life, she held your hands and she whispered secrets about Joel in your ear – purposefully to embarrass him, to make that bashful side turn its head again.

But she was sharp. She was quick, and you knew within the first five minutes of meeting her exactly where Joel got his wit and his mind. You can see her, clear as day, guarding the front porch of that little white house – one hand on her hip and the other pointing in the direction her cheating husband was to head.

Just as clear, you can see her stood over that same husband’s grave, waving her fist and tearing his will into confetti. It brings something of a smile to your face. Sad, sympathetic, but…impressed.

“Wow…So she – she gave it to you? And you – put it into the company?”

He shrugs, grip tightening around the mug. “When I started makin’ money, I paid off the mortgage on her house, managed to convince her to retire early. Got her into a good retirement home, once she was ready for it.”

Smart guy.

A calm quiet falls between you. Joel turns to watch the commercials on TV. Your chest fills with a need to ask him something – a feeling all too familiar whenever you’re around him. Only him. A weight on your mind, a bubbling which starts in your stomach and rises up until it’s practically pushing the words out over your tongue.

“Your dad – how do you not hate him?”

He turns back. Your eyes are stinging. He notices. Holds his palm out, and your fingers instantly lace through his. Your nails find those same valleys, the grooves you’d traced while Swayze and Grey mamboed.

Joel stares up at you, face suddenly tight with worry. He knows there’s something loaded behind your question. Knows you’re asking for something more than another jigsaw piece of him. You’re doing it again. You’re freakin’ him out.

“I…” He falls quiet, looks between your eyes at the pearly tears which form in the corners, the way your face sets to stone. He glances down at your necklace again, and shakes his head softly. “I spent a long time hatin’ him, baby. Changed nothin’. He did what he did. He was a scumbag.”

The answer melts your angry frame, body folding and sinking further into your pillows. You tug the bedsheet a little closer to your chin, press your lips into the top of the ceramic ghost’s head.

Your voice sounds small, sounds like it doesn’t even come from your chest, when you say, “I think I hate my dad. For what he did.”

Joel finally relaxes. Like he’s finally seen the tiny creature casting the huge, stretched shadow on the wall. “You…Yeah?”

You nod. Stare at the cotton mountain of your legs entangled in his. “Yeah. He just up ‘n left, when things got boring. When I grew up, and my mom got older. Just packed his car, and…I always wonder –” a breath lurches from your chest, “– I always wonder why I wasn’t worth stickin’ around for. Why he just – decided one day to…”

Your voice fails to carry. Joel knows the end of the sentence, anyway.

You’ve never told anybody any of this. Not Blake, not your mom, not any of your friends; you barely even know in yourself how you feel about it – even twelve years later. But the air in the room feels different – feels thicker, like you’re tucked away from the world. The conversation won’t leave your apartment, you know that much. Know that Joel wouldn’t speak of it again, wouldn’t so much as let it cross his own mind, if you asked him not to. And so you let the words tumble from your tongue, let them sit heavy in the space between you.

The space between you, which is now silent, like you’re both preoccupied. Joel, taking in the weight of what you’ve said into strong, safe hands; and you, feeling that same weight lift off of your chest. Until the silence itself feels clunky, and awkward, and you scram to find something to break it up.

“Anyway. Sorry to be a bummer.”

“You ain’t a bummer. Are you kidding?” Joel sighs. “I’m sorry, babygirl. Sorry that happened to you.”

“’s okay. He was just a scumbag, right?”

“Sure sounds it.”

You take a small sip, the tea sugarcoating your lips and flooding over your tongue – the sweet taste ridding them of the bitter memory of your dad. “Your turn,” you hum.

Joel’s head jerks. “No, darlin’, you already told me somethin’. You go again.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“I’m changin’ the rules.”

You try to protest, manage the sound Jo– before his hand lifts and he shushes you.

“That’s what I was gonna ask, anyways. Was gonna ask about you ‘n your dad. Now, go.”

He’s lying. You know it, and you suspect he knows you know it, too. It’s a terrible attempt at a lie, no matter how kind it is. But you’re too tired, a little too in pain to argue back over it. And he’s looking at you again, with that honeycomb twinkle in his eye, that Joel look which stirs something in you every time he shows you it.

You sigh, accepting defeat, and rack your brain for something else you want him to talk about.

“Alright, uh…What about your brother? He didn’t want any of your dad’s money?”

Joel’s face twists into something of a grimace. You instantly regret bringing it up.

“Touchy subject?” you ask, already coming up with five new, two-dimensional questions to ask in place of that one. Who was your first kiss and what was your first car and when did you find your first gray hair and what’s your mom’s maiden name and –

But you don’t need them.

Joel says, “Not with you,” and tilts his head, like measuring up his answer. He takes his time letting it filter down to his lips, and you reckon you’ve a good idea of why.

He was closed-off about it in Paris. About his brother. Didn’t say more than three sentences about him. And that was only where a sheep farm was considered. What you’re asking about right now is a hell of a lot deeper and a hell of a lot more difficult than a ranch in the Texan countryside.

“He was always closer to Dad. They used to go out huntin’ every Sunday. Liked the same music, watched the same TV. They were buddies, more ‘n anything. When it turned out my dad had this whole other life behind our backs – behind Tommy’s back – he flipped. Couldn’t take it. He disappeared, never looked back. Just packed his car, moved across the country.”

He’s staring at the TV now, barely blinking. Barely breathing, until you speak and it’s like he remembers he’s in your apartment, on your bed, with you. Not back in time twenty years, watching the dust kick up from under his little brother’s tires.

“He must’ve been pretty mad.”

“Yeah. Tommy’s like that, he’s got a hot head on his shoulders. But it meant leavin’ Mom, y’know? She went through all of that without him. I had to pick up all these broken pieces, juggle all this stuff, ‘n he just got to walk away from it all. And then, when Dad died, he refused to come back still. Left me to organize everything – the money, the funeral. The whole damn thing.”

He flicks his head, resentfully, like trying to dislodge the memory from his mind. Trying to shake it free. When you speak, it seems to soften him. Seems to thaw whatever angry image was frozen behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “that part sucks. I bet it was hard goin’ through all that without him.”

Joel’s head angles towards you. “Not any harder ‘n it was on you, goin’ through what you did.”

“Well…I know I would’ve found it easier if I had a brother or sister. Someone like me, someone who gets it, y’know?”

“Hm. We weren’t all that close to begin with, I guess.”

“You were close enough to want to buy a ranch together.”

He shakes his head again, this time refusing to let the idea in. Turning it away at the door.

“You miss him?”

“It my turn to ask somethin’ yet?” he asks, smiling.

But you’re feeling braver now. He’s answered everything up until now; it feels less like a game and more like…more like he wants to talk about it. Like it’s been pent up all this time and this is the first anyone’s brought it up. A relief to get it off his chest, if nothing else.

You ignore him. Press him. “Do you?”

Joel sighs deep enough that his coffee ripples a little in his mug, and then nods. “Sometimes I wonder what it’d be like if we were on speaking terms, yeah.”

“So, call him. You have his number?”

“I ain’t gonna call him, baby.”

“Where’s he at?”

“Last I heard, ‘n it was a long time ago now – he was in Wyoming. Married, kid on the way.”

“Call him. You really gonna let that kid grow up without Uncle Joel around?”

“Uncle Joel,” he repeats, laughing now. “He does not want to hear from me, angel. Let it go.”

Joel turns the volume up and settles back into bed, pillows propped behind him. You pass him your empty mug and he slots it alongside his own. As the commercials end and Whoopi Goldberg flashes a grin into the camera, you give it one final shot.

“I’d give anything to have someone who knew and understood me as well as a brother might.”

His hand falls limp against your bedsheets, remote loose in his fingers. You lift his arm, nuzzling underneath it to lean your head by his heart, and he sighs.

Argument won.

“Too many big questions,” you mutter after a while, eyes clinging to the screen. “Ask me somethin’ stupid.”

“Somethin’ stupid,” Joel repeats, and you nod. “Alright. Who’d you lose your virginity to?”

You slap his chest. “Dirtbag!”

He chuckles. “Who was it? Blake?”

“No,” you reply.

“Damn. Who?”

You roll your eyes, though he can’t see you.

But suddenly you feel the loose spaghetti straps of a slip dress over your shoulders, see the off-white glow of three-year-old sneakers crossed at your ankles, chipped pink fingernails tracing the blurry pastel shapes on floral bedsheets. A dry throat, the sanitized backwash of vodka and coke splashing across your tongue. A smash from downstairs – someone’s broken the host’s mom’s best vase.

“Was just this guy I slept with at a house party,” you tell Joel, clearing your throat. “Lisa Tait’s sweet sixteenth. We were in her bedroom, all of us, ‘n everyone started heading downstairs, ‘til it was just me ‘n this dude Jack laying on her bed.”

“You had sex on some other girl’s bed?”

You nod, cringing a little. “I wasn’t even friends with her. Wasn’t even friends with him. Just thought, fuck it. I didn’t wanna go into senior year a virgin ‘n neither did he, I guess.”

“How’d it go?”

The messy, uncomfortable thrusts between your legs. The hand shooting down to guide himself back in. The wet lips running along the shell of your ear, the acidic breath on your cheek. Is that good for you? Yeah, it’s good for me. You sure? I’m sure. Just hurry up.

“Lasted, like, four minutes, thirty seconds.”

Joel’s body jerks. You know he’s staring at the crown of your head. “You timed him?”

“No. He lasted as long as Paradise by Coldplay. It was playin’ downstairs in the living room.”

He tips his head back and laughs to the ceiling. You giggle into his shirt.

“Poor guy,” Joel says, rubbing your shoulder.

“Poor me, more like.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, and pats your head. “Least you’re doin’ alright now.”

You push yourself up from his chest and glare at his satisfied smirk, dodging his thumb when it lifts to clip your chin. “Oh, you’re so smug about it.”

“Are you kidding? For lastin’ longer than five minutes? ‘course I am. Can make you come twice in that time.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. Runs the tip of his tongue along his top lip, corners of his mouth twitching. Something sparks to life inside you.

Your knee lifts, reaching over his waist and planting into the mattress on the opposite side. Joel’s hands come to rest on your thighs, fingers slipping up beneath the black cotton and edging against your hipbones. You bend over him, lips running a wet trail from the base of his neck to his earlobe. His breath falters.

“Prove it, daddy,” you whisper, and his grip tightens.

“Baby,” he warns, voice suddenly sharper. “We don’t have to –”

You ignore him, holding him down by the shoulders. “I want to.”

“I’m just sayin’,” his fingers wrap around your wrists, “’s not why I came here. We can just hang out.”

“We are hanging out,” you tell him. “This is what we do.”

And he seems to agree. Or, at least, accepts defeat, in the form of rolling his hips upwards. His fingers slip through yours, locking at your knuckles, anchoring you to him. You grind against his belt buckle, the hard metal flat against your clit. Joel clocks you instantly.

He sits up. Holds you by the ass on his body until your center is flush with his. You feel him stir beneath your open legs.

He shifts to the edge of the bed, keeping you chest to chest in his lap. Your teeth grit against one another. His lips are warm, they still taste like coffee. You lick at the corners.

“Wanna make yourself feel good on me?” he asks.

A smile as sweet as sugar and laced with something darker spreads across your lips. “You’re best at it, right?”

Joel hums. “Alright,” he says, impressed. His chin lifts; he breathes a laugh as you pepper his jaw with kisses. “Take what you need, angel. ‘s all yours.”

Your knees spread wider. You push down on his swollen crotch, voice catching as he meets you halfway, bucking up into you again. Your clit throbs at the contact, forcing you back up off him.

“D-addy,” you choke, hands suddenly gripping his shoulders.

Joel’s stronger. He takes your waist and replaces you on his lap. “Shh,” he whispers, breath hot against your ear, “’s okay, baby. I got you. We’re gonna make you feel good together, alright? Here.”

He slides you over until your legs are either side of one of his, his thick thigh flat against your most sensitive spot. You dig your nails into his forearms, squeezing hard, but he doesn’t budge. Just looks up at you, holding you steady, and says –

“Go on. Ride it, babygirl.”

You move an inch. The rough fabric catches on the soft of Joel’s underwear. You gasp, relief mixing with arousal and spilling warm and soothing between your legs.

Joel squeezes your hips. “Do it, darlin’. Make yourself feel good. ‘m here, I’ll watch.”

The fabric beneath your pussy is soaked, probably dampening a mark into his pants – and you don’t fucking care. It feels good – the steady weight of him, lifting his thigh as you drag yourself along it, beginning to rock back and forth.

Your eyes are closed, head to the ceiling, grinding your core against his. You can feel him staring. Watching you, his gaze red hot on your already fevered skin. You collapse into him over and over, his body solid as a rock, letting yours fold against him. Liquid in pleasure and feeling.

Your eyes open a sliver and you smile, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

Joel smirks. “You know how fucking perfect you look right now?”

You nod, forehead coming to lean heavily on his.

He bucks his leg, jaw tight. “How – fucking – beautiful you are? Making yourself come on daddy’s thigh?”

You inhale the words as he speaks them, swallowing them in gasps and parting your lips complacently for more. Keep going. Keep telling me –

“–you my good girl?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, legs starting to give.

“Gonna get me covered in you? Gonna come all fuckin’ over me, babygirl?”

“Daddy, I want –”

“Tell me,” he demands, “tell me what you want.”

His hands are clamped on your waist, guiding you – driving you, more than your weak hips are able to – holding you to him almost painfully. Your body circles messily, becoming sloppier the closer your orgasm draws, quivering when the feeling runs a delicate hand through your hair and plants wet kisses along your neck.

“Want you to fuck me, daddy,” you whine, body rocking again. Your hand lowers to cup the outline of him, rock-hard and restrained beneath linen. He shudders when you squeeze him – looks down to your small hand on the huge bulge in his trousers. “Need to feel you inside me.”

Your own eyes are stuck on the place where your bodies connect, writhing against one another – the wet seam of Joel’s underwear, the folds of his pant leg as you rut against him. Your empty cunt tightens, aching for more against his firm thigh.

“’m gonna, pretty girl,” he says, groaning as you palm him. “‘m gonna fuck you so good. Just give me one first, alright? Let me see you come for me.”

Your body jolts as you come. Hips lose their rhythm; arms lock tight around Joel’s shoulders. And all the while, his lips stay pressed against your ear.

“Look so good, baby,” he coos. “That feel good, angel? Yeah?”

As quickly as your orgasm sent you under, you’re pulling back. You haven’t even regained feeling between your legs, but you’re pushing yourself from his lap, separating your bodies.

Joel sits back, body lightweight when you tug on his wrists and drag him up to height in front of you. You’re backing up across the plush rug, his chest bumping against yours, your fingers fumbling for the buttons of his shirt. Your back hits the bathroom door. Joel twists the handle.

You spill onto the cold tile, attached at the mouth, frantically tearing clothes from each other’s bodies. It’s desperate. It’s burning. It’s almost fucking painful, how bad you need him.

His hands run from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt, hauling it over your torso and tossing it to the counter. You peel the shirt from his shoulders and your bare chest meets his, his hands finding your hips again when he whips them from his sleeves. The white shirt drops to your damp floor, dark, wet marks spreading across the dress fabric.

“Shoot,” you mumble against his lips. “My – bad. Sorry.”

“Don’t – care,” Joel breathes, and his thumbs push beneath his waistband.

You spin on your heel, backing towards the shower and taking him by the jaw with you. He shoves the clothing down his legs, stepping out of them and catching you again in time to drag the underwear from your thighs.

You shift into the shower, both fully naked. Joel spins the nozzle and the warm water rains down between you. His chest quickly soaks, dark hair thicker and blacker, flat against his glistening skin. He tilts his head under the spray and soaks his hair – gives one heavy flick of the head like a wet dog, and you laugh as he pulls you in again.

His hands cup your face as he connects your lips, and then his right drifts down your neck and pushes your tit up, squeezing the sensitive skin in his palm and rolling your firm nipple between two fingers. He lets it drop, runs his hand delicately down your frame, following the curve of your waist to your hips. He cups between your legs.

You come up for air, a sudden realization over your head as though the water runs freezing cold. “Wait,” you start, “I gotta –”

But he’s rubbing gentle circles against your clit, slow, pacing you as the tide of your first orgasm disappears to sea. He doesn’t seem to know, yet – or if he does, he doesn’t give a fuck.

“Joel –”

“I know,” he says, voice low and busy, but still – assuring. Unbothered. He moves his hand lower, surfing along your slit, until his fingers brush the wet string.

Your breathing jumps. He taps the seam of your thigh twice, and your leg tilts aside. Your eyes flit back up, crossing over his chest to fix on his jaw. You feel a flushing heat cross your cheeks, a moment’s hesitation before your fingers clamp around his wrist.

“Hey,” he whispers, and you almost don’t hear him over the running of the shower. He keeps his left hand on your jaw, his right between your legs. He shakes his head once, and takes the string in two fingers, and –

Gently pulls. Only a fraction, and then he pauses. Looks back up at you, a question in his stare.

You nod, exhaling heavily. He pulls again, and he doesn’t stop.

The tampon falls wet and heavy into his palm. His hand leaves your cheek and settles around your waist, leaning both of you out of the shower while he reaches for some toilet paper. Once it’s wrapped in a roll of white tissue and sat on your sink, he moves back into the cubicle.

He runs his palm under the flow; splashes of red swept up, watered down, and carried to the drain along with every last whispering of worry on your lips. Your elbows bend around his neck and he dips his head to kiss you, pushing you carefully into the corner.

“You tell me –” he kisses you, “– if it hurts or it gets too much, you tell me.” His body stands huge, blocking yours from the stream of water. Your back bumps against the shower wall; the shock of the cold tile pushes you closer to Joel.

“Just – fuck me.”

But he’s adamant. “You tell me.”

“I’ll tell you. You’ll know.”

“This is about you feelin’ good.”

“I’ll tell you,” you whine.

“We’re gonna have a word,” Joel instructs, lining up between your legs. He lifts your thigh to sit on his hip. “’n if you say it, I stop. Alright?”

You nod, fervently. “Please –”

His fingers separate your lips; his tip nudges your entrance. “Maple, alright? It gets too much, you say maple. You do that?”

“Joel, if you don’t –”

“Baby.”

“Maple,” you agree, “I’ll say it. Just –”

He pushes in without another word.

How many times has it been, by now? Ten? More than that? Enough for you to know in your mind, if not from trying to learn then simply from muscle memory, exactly how he feels. The curve of his cock, the width of the tip, the length of him as he slots deep inside you.

And yet – every fucking time – you feel so full. Full of him in every sense – your cunt, swollen around him, your lungs, breathing his scent, your every thought and feeling and sense replaced by Joel. Joel Joel Joel Joel –

He’s suffocating. And if you died right now – if you were smothered by him, swaddled until you couldn’t feel anything anymore – you’re not sure you’d be able to tell. Not sure you’d care enough to notice.

He pushes in slow, but deep. So fucking deep. Lets your walls expand around him the first few thrusts, lets your body welcome him back in. His lips press against your temple, his arms cradle your lower back. Your weight bears down on his shoulders and he lifts you, your other leg sitting on his waist. He holds your ass in both hands, begins to bounce you steadily.

“So good, baby,” he says. “Doin’ so good for me. You’re daddy’s girl, ain’t you?”

Your answer leaves your lips in the form of a moan. Something shaped like his name, or maybe some attempt at a response to his question, or maybe something more dangerous.

“My girl,” he repeats, whatever it was you said. “Daddy’s girl.”

Your head rolls back, cushioned by Joel’s hand between you and the tile wall. He knots his fingers in your hair, snaps his hips quick and hard, panting into your shoulder. And there’s a feeling – a stinging, a burning, sweeping across your eyes, and for a second you think it feels like shampoo, like the sharp scratch of soap between your lashes, until you realize it’s –

Tears. The heavy cut of tears, brimming your eyes. Blurring your vision. And with every thrust, every blissful meeting of Joel’s cock and your cervix, every inch he spreads you open wide – they form quicker, and quicker, and quicker. Until they spill down onto your cheeks, and you can’t tell the difference between them and the spray of the shower.

But Joel can. His head lifts from the crook of your neck, his teeth dragging from your skin. He spots your eyelashes, silky and wet, and in one motion, wraps his arm around your head, holds you with the inside of his elbow.

He dips his jaw, presses his lips featherlight to your cheeks, kisses the tears away as quickly as they roll down.

“I –” gasp, “– don’t know –” gasp, “– why I’m –”

Joel’s head shakes as he pulls away. Shuts you up. His answer is simple. You believe it instantly.

“’s okay. You’re okay.”

And right then – you think you understand.

Because you can see him – plain as day. You can see the amounts he cares for you, the limitless needs he can meet for you. There’s a warmth within you, spread throughout your body for him, and you have no fucking idea how to let him feel it. How to have it seep through your skin – so that every time his fingers ghost over your body, he’s met with a blaze strong enough to burn. A fire, big enough and bright enough that it shows him exactly how you feel.

Only him. No one else. A flame only he can see, dancing across your eyes when you look at him. A heat only he can feel. How do you make him feel it? How do you tell him? What combination of words might translate it?

It’s like slamming your fists against a glass barrier. A transparent wall, that allows you only to see him and draw near to him – never to feel him. Not really.

And so, you cry. You cry for him, for yourself. And Joel lets you.

For a little while.

His lips are back on your neck, biting marks into the soaking skin. “’attagirl,” he hums. It rattles your pulse, disturbs the rhythm and sends his own beating through your veins. “So good, baby.”

They soothe you – his lips, and the words which come from them. Soothe the sweet pain between your legs, the swollen ache every time Joel pushes into you. The stretch, the bruising tinge when his tip finds home in the deepest part of your body. Somewhere no one has ever reached, no one has ever found. No one, you feel, has ever been worthy enough to know.

Until him. Until Joel.

That same rhythm – your pulse on his wavelength – begins to flee south. Loops and swirls and dives to where his body connects with yours. Tightens rapidly around your cunt. Your hips grind against his, your thighs clamp on his waist. He starts to falter, hips slipping whether from blood or come or water. And then he’s growling, face burying into your chest as he steadies the two of you with an abrupt palm on the wall, and he stills.

The feeling of his release tips you over. The warmth spreading inside, so far you feel him in your stomach. Your walls contract around him, squeezing until every last drop of him is buried somewhere in you, and you lower one foot to the shower floor.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he pants, pulling his lips from your collarbone. “You okay?”

You nod, head rolling against the wall behind. You’re not crying anymore. The shower whirrs somewhere over Joel’s shoulder. Your chest feels tight. And you feel fucking euphoric.

He gives three more lazy, broken thrusts, pushing his come deeper inside. You both still, mouths curved open, exchanging breath and letting your tongues flick idly against one another.

You hold onto him long after your orgasm is shallow ripples between your legs. Long after the feeling has washed back into the ocean, your high a glimmer of sunlight bursting over the distant horizon, the aftereffects painting your world golden.

You hold onto him, and you let him run his hands slowly up and down your spine, and you sift your weak fingers through his dark hair, and you let him kiss your neck and your shoulders and your collarbones. He leans back; the flow of water cascades between you, carrying away any mess left on your bodies.

And then you let him carry you out of the shower, his tip still inside you, slowly softening. He settles you carefully against your counter, and reaches over for two white towels, caping one around your shoulders and using it to draw your body against his own.

You take the corners from his fingers and he lifts your chin, pushing your lips apart with his tongue. Then he pulls away, allows you to wrap the terry around yourself.

Joel wraps his own towel around his waist, slung loose enough that you can trace the dark hair peppered from his belly button down between his hips.

“You know how inappropriate it is to look at your boss like that?” he tuts.

You hook an arm around his neck and pull him back in. “Then stop lookin’ at me the way you do,” you tease, and he kisses your cheek.

He disappears through to your kitchen, reappears moments later with the box of Tampax, and you don’t even think to laugh or tell him you’ve an open box sat in the cupboard you’re leaning against. You just smile, and accept the clean tampon he holds out in his fingers. He leaves you to get dressed with the door closed over.

He’s sat on your bed when you emerge from the bathroom, holding his soaking shirt between two fingers. “Sorry about, uh…”

“’s alright,” he shrugs, standing up, “I’ll take it from your paycheck.”

His knuckles pinch your nose. You free yourself to place a chaste kiss on his fingers, and pass him the crinkled mess.

“I have something that’ll fit you somewhere,” you mutter, slipping past him as he hangs the shirt by the collar over your door.

“Do me a favor,” Joel’s voice follows, and he takes your wrist. You turn back to face him. “Catch your breath.”

“Huh?” you ask, and his hand comes up to mold around your cheek, the way it always fucking does. As if your bodies were made to be held by one another.

“Just – take a breath. You’re doin’ it again.”

“Doing what?”

“Movin’ at a hundred miles an hour. Breathe for me.”

You scoff, loosening yourself from his grasp to go sift through your wardrobe for something big enough for him. You settle for a Jurassic Park tee – logo faded and cracked, hem a little ragged.

“Rod’s?” he asks, holding the shirt up.

You’re already collapsing onto the mattress. “You bet.”

Joel smirks and tugs it over his head, throwing himself down against the headboard. Your hand wraps around his thigh, lips press soft kisses on the skin. He runs his hand over your hair.

“Are you gonna take a sick day off me for this?” you ask.

He shakes his head simply. “Doctor’s orders. Can’t say nothin’ to that.”

“I didn’t go to the doc–”

His thumb presses against your lips. “You don’t know when to fuckin’ lie, do you?” he whispers. “’s alright, we’ll getcha trained up.”

You snort, shaking yourself free of his hand. Your head settles by his hip, nails draw aimless patterns along the curve of his stomach.

“Need you better by Sunday, anyway,” Joel sighs, “Martha’s son’s birthday party.”

You grunt in response. You forgot about that.

Joel tuts. “Still gotta find him a present. How in the hell do I know what to buy a twelve-year-old?”

Your hand pauses. Neck cranes up to look at him. He’s staring down at you, his trademark glower still recognizable even upside down. Somehow, not sat upright in front of him, the thought seems less scary. Less of a commitment, more a casual suggestion.

“Why don’t we just get ‘im a joint one?”

The hard expression immediately wipes from his face. Replaced by something rounder. He blinks at you. “Really? From – you ‘n me?”

You shrug against his waist. It’s not answer enough for him.

“As in, you n’ me?” he asks.

“Why not?”

Joel’s head shakes. His mouth curves as he considers the thought. But he can’t mask the pang it sends through his body; can’t pretend he’s not covering the way his veins light and his nerves stand to attention by taking your hand in his and squeezing it briskly.

It doesn’t have to mean something. You, Joel, and Deb are the only people from work that Martha invited, and Deb’s bringing her two sons, which means her gift will be from them, too. All it has to mean is that you’re Martha’s co-workers, and figured it’d be cheaper and easier to get one gift over two.

Except – one of you is a millionaire.

It means something. The fact you asked. You’re not asking to save a buck, to make it simpler. You’re asking because you want to wrap some video game in paper Joel picked out; you want him to hold the folds down with one finger while you tear tape with your teeth. You want to sign the card with both of your names, in your handwriting. See how they look paired up.

You ask him because you want to feel the way you think you ought to have felt this entire time. Your body is ablaze. You’re ready to let him feel it. And you ‘n me seems like a pretty good combination of words to start with.

You’re ready. And that’s why you ask him.

Joel’s quiet for as long as you are. You both go to talk at the same time, both noticing how silent the room has fallen while you realize all of those things in real time.

“Sorry, baby, you go,” Joel says, sniffing.

“No, I was just – no, you go. What were you gonna say?”

He smiles. “Was just – wonderin’ what you wanted to get Alan.”

Your mouth opens to answer, and then you pause. “Al–? What?”

“What you wanted to get ‘im,” Joel repeats.

You push yourself up, lean on one hip in front of him. “Yeah, I heard that part. What did you call him?”

“Alan?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Joel stares right back. “Martha’s son.”

“Martha’s son’s name is Henry.”

“No, it fuckin’ ain’t.”

You’re biting back a laugh. “Yes, it fuckin’ is.”

“She calls him Little Al. All the damn time, baby, he’s –”

“That’s because he acts like Alan. Her husband. His father. All the damn time. You gotta be messing with me. Have you been calling him Alan the entire time he’s been alive?”

“No.”

His expression tells you yes.

You’re laughing now. Really laughing. It breaks your words in two, your head tilting back to the ceiling. “You…idiot.”

Joel’s struggling to compose himself, sliding off the bed. “The email she sent out says Alan’s Twelfth Birthday. The hell’s my phone?”

“You think she had a kid in two thousand eleven, and named it Alan? You don’t think they’d call Child Protection on her for that?”

He points a finger, tossing pillows to the bottom of your bed. “That’s disrespectful to the Alans of the world. Where the fuck is my –?”

Your chest swells in a giggle, eyes start to sting with tears. “What do you write in her Christmas cards? To Martha, Alan, and Alan?”

You slap the bed, leaning forward with a deep gasp, trying to catch your fucking breath. Joel’s still stripping the bed, still keeping his own laughter deep in his chest, but it’s quickly crumbling.

“Her email –” he chuckles, “– says Alan’s Twel–”

“She’s fucking with you!” you holler, catching the pillows he throws to you. “She’s fucking with – I’m gonna piss my pants. Martha, Alan, and Alan, oh my fucking –”

“Here,” he finally throws you the phone, “go find it. Find the email. Search the damn word Alan; she uses it every time she talks about him. Jesus Christ, I need a coffee. You want another chamomile tea, Little Miss Smartass?”

He lifts your mug and tilts it in your direction. You nod as you reach for the phone, wiping tears from your cheeks. Joel disappears through to the kitchen.

He clued you in on his passcode a few months after you started. You were still in the office past five o’clock, looking out files he needed for some client visit the following morning. His phone had buzzed, you were nearest it. He lifted his head and nodded to the lit screen.

1-6-9-1, he told you.

It finally made sense only a few days ago, after three years of wondering. Three years of knowing and never asking; a mystery solved. 1691 Maple.

His background was always one of the standard ones. The boring ones. A soft, blue gradient. Usually, his lock screen was too populated by notifications for you to even notice.

But now – it’s changed.

Now, it’s a photo of the view from the terrace in Paris. The pale sunset, faded blue into sweet yellow. The Eiffel Tower carved out in the center. You suck in a deep breath as you swipe texts and emails away to properly study it, figure out exactly where he was standing to take it, and exactly where you might’ve been when he did.

You tap in the four digits and his home screen lays out before you. Only, the background is different – again.

It’s Paris, still, but indoors. Dark wall, an ornate frame pinned to it, housing an amused smirk and soft hands. She’s looking off into the distance, past the photographer. Or maybe – she’s looking at you.

You, stood leaning on the barrier in front of her. The Mona Lisa. Your head tilted towards her, beaming like it’s a photo with your favorite celebrity.

It’s not a big deal. That’s what you tell yourself. It’s his home screen. Only visible if you know his password – and you’re fairly sure that you’re the only one who does. Not even Martha would know that this photo exists, never mind the fact that it’s his wallpaper. It’s not a big fucking deal.

No matter how much you think you want it to be.

You swiftly tap on the email app icon, trying to rid your mind of your own cheesing image. He has thirteen unread emails, all from the last hour. Some you know he’ll forward straight to you and Martha; others look a little more serious. As you’re scrolling down them, you notice a familiar face.

Denis Pelletier. His square-jawed grin flashes back at you from the tiny circle icon beside his name. You tap on the email, and your cheeks lift higher the further down it you read.

I hope your flight home was pleasant, and It was wonderful to take you both around Paris, and Your assistant was very sweet. You breathe a laugh, scrolling down the three-paragraph message urging Joel that if he’s ever back in Paris – if you’re ever back in Paris, both of you – to make sure you let the chauffeur know.

But there’s no email from Martha. At least, none in Joel’s inbox. You return out of the folder and wheel down to his Deleted folder, scrolling past password reset emails, panicked cries for help from Mackley and Tom, past order confirmations for brands you’ve never heard of, when –

A head of hair, more salt than pepper. A bright, unnerving smile, too many dazzling teeth in a mouth too small to house them. A pink sky behind him; candy floss clouds and townhouses glowing orange in the sunset – the building blocks of the Paris skyline.

Jean-Marc. An email – a deleted email – from Jean-Marc.

Dear Joel, It was such a pl… is all you can read from the preview. Your eyes flit up to your door. Joel’s still in the kitchen, humming. You glance back down to his phone.

Would it be invading his privacy? It’s only an email from Jean-Marc. It’s not like you don’t know who he is. What if your thumb slipped? Accidentally opened it? What if your eyes scanned over the text before you quickly swiped back out of the email?

There’s the sound of a drawer rolling closed. A spoon rattling against ceramic. He’s stirring your tea.

You click on the email.

It was such a pleasure to see you again.

You scan over the first paragraph. It’s just Jean-Marc cozying up to Joel. Your nose wrinkles and your lips turn.

I loved meeting your assistant, the next paragraph begins. And your focus is pulled.

I wonder if you had given our conversation any more thought? Whether she might be looking for a new challenge? Something this side of the Atlantic, perhaps?

Your heart skips a beat. A new challenge.

“You want the last egg roll?” Joel calls from the kitchen.

You jolt back to life. “N-no, you have it,” you reply. You hear the rustle of the bag.

I wonder if you might relay the message onto her, Jean-Marc continues. Please give her my email address and phone number.

You quickly pull the screen up, noting the date the message was sent. Three days after you got home from Paris. More than a week ago. You tap on Joel’s response as his footsteps creak back towards your bedroom.

His reply is as short and sweet as the few words he spoke to the Frenchman that Sunday morning.

I’ll pass on your details, he’s written, but unfortunately, my assistant is currently unavailable. Maybe sometime in the future.

Your jaw jerks. Eyes trace the words, over and over. Thumb scrolls up and down the email, making sure you’re reading it right. Joel, making promises he never followed through. Joel – your Joel, the one you pestered for fucking days after Paris over what he’d talked with Jean-Marc about – one hand laced through yours, the other with a vice grip around a secret he never intended to clue you in on.

You. He’d talked about you. They’d probably talked about you the entire fucking meeting, as soon as Joel mentioned you. You can see Jean-Marc’s ears twig; his eyebrows lift with interest. The way he sets his wine glass down, offers Joel another whiskey and invites him to say more.

Joel. Lying. And covering up. And keeping you close by his hip, walking in stride with him out of that fucking penthouse – like you’re on some kind of leash, or something.

The fabric of his underwear on your hips feels claustrophobic; a second layer of skin that rubs against yours like sandpaper. You want to rip them off off off – want to separate yourself from him, peel him from your body and forget the feeling of him as quickly as you seemed to absorb it. Instinct tells you to detach yourself – to remove any trace of him ever having laid eyes on you, never mind touched you.

What a fucking idiot, you think. He doesn’t fucking care about you after all.

You don’t even notice when his form saunters back into the room, when he shoves the door closed with his elbow. There’s a bitter taste on your tongue, sour with disappointment. Acrid with anger. Sick with fear.

Unavail–?

“You find it?” he asks, and you subconsciously clutch the phone to your chest.

“Not yet,” you murmur, watching as he sets the mug back on your nightstand.

His fingers slip through the handle, knuckle nudges the temple of the ghost a little further along the surface, and he straightens, lifting his own mug to his lips.

“’s in there,” he says against the ceramic. He holds a hand out, curls his fingers. “Let’s see.”

“Never mind,” you say, tapping out of the email, out of the folder, out of the app. “I believe you.”

And then –

“…You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”

He licks his lips. Holds the mug by his side, fingers gripping the lip. He gives a non-committal shrug of the shoulders.

“No, darlin’. Why would I lie to you?”

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #ceo!joel miller #ceo!joel #sugardaddy!joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fic #tlou #joel miller smut #fic: sex on fire

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lisharchivez · 7 months ago

Text

Hi! its me Fay

Personal archive for Chats or post replies or dialogue responses from our beloved Zayne/Li shen / Rei / Lee Seoeon from love and deep Space

and occasionally from Others as well

Its hard to keep on track since i do all these by myself

Feel free to help me out! I would be grateful!

guide

❄️Zayne ⭐Xavier 🐦‍⬛Sylus 🐚Rafayel

same cube coded ones are part of same occasions.

Archived chats so far

Zayne

🐦‍⬛ Countdown reminder

🐦‍⬛ special reminders

🐦‍⬛Extreme Sports[GLINT PHOTOBOOTH]

🐦‍⬛Just a little Joke 2.0

🐦‍⬛Electronic pet

🐦‍⬛Accordion

🐦‍⬛ reunion night

🐦‍⬛chibi filters

🐦‍⬛ depart for vacation

🐦‍⬛"injured"

🐦‍⬛Forest Maze

⭐Rabbit lantern

⭐chocolate cookies

🐦‍⬛crow talk

🐦‍⬛Forest adventure

🐦‍⬛find the kitty ⭐nostalgic snacks 💞56

⭐Insomnia Lecture

Emoji edition

Snowman laying down shaking head "NO" caption pt 1 pt 2

not listening

time for meds

Tea

....

Archived posts so far

Moments -

❄️the snow stopped

❄️Traffic jam

❄️Dusk or Dawn

❄️Cat's blessing

❄️Rabbit escaped

❄️it's fun and easy (first plushie)

❄️let's go home (3 plushie)

❄️angry mc obtained (No plushie)

❄️goodluck (1st SSR meow badge)

❄️has anyone seen my socks

❄️haggle through Language barrier

❄️Queueing [aff 62]

❄️Trial and error

❄️Diseased Mind

❄️Drink Plenty of water

❄️Stroll on the road

❄️surprise

❄️someone said we were only taking picture-

❄️Earbuds are broken[snapshot same pose]

❄️Reminders

❄️Philosophers[snapshot specific duo pose]

❄️I'm now accustomed to [snapshot follow up]

❄️Squirrel brought a friend[related to feed the squirrel chat]

❄️Power suddenly went out

❄️Medium rare

❄️Three notification for light meal

❄️Captchas aren't scientific

1️⃣Jenna,Tara,Greyson,Thomas pt1 pt2

❄️between the results of medical exam and theoretical exam-

🟪 🐦‍⬛tweak smile

🟪❄️learned a lot of weird trivia

🟪⭐the book from beginner to expert

🟪🐚time to graduate

🐦‍⬛just woke up

🐦‍⬛ sunset

🐦‍⬛ Ammo Box Grill

🐦‍⬛ Not a Tiger[aff 23]

❄️ Fun thing [aff 77]

🐦‍⬛Goblet [aff 31]

❄️ paper penguin [aff 58]

⭐holding hands can shock U

🐦‍⬛Auction[aff 27]

🐦‍⬛mechanical crow likes shiny things

❄️waiting at the concert

🐦‍⬛ MC's birthday - Sylus

🐦‍⬛ heatwave

❄️Mild myopia

🐦‍⬛lil S pet store

🐦‍⬛most fun part of kitty card

🐦‍⬛Crows aren't actually black

❄️ blankets power

❄️100% sugar latte to go

❄️ recent chat fills up Doctor patient joke collection

❄️Refrigerator turned into display case for magnet

🐦‍⬛who said people have to smile

❄️crab roe soup dumpling

❄️special gift 💞41

EVENT edition -

[ Twinkle.Co HeartworkRoutine]

Ready to row [Event chat]

After you get your first plushie at soul catcher [post]

🟠After you finish chapter 2 [posts]

After the rain

Parterre day trip[Rafayel]

Great for a relaxing run[Xavier]

Partner Go Go

Adventure Above Clouds

Moonlit Orchid Day

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archangeldyke-all · 1 year ago

Note

simp sev

anon i'm kissing you with tongue rn (but only if that's cool w/ u ofc)

SIMP SEVIKAAAA

men and minors dni

she's not just a simp, she's proud of it.

once you're dating, of course.

before you're dating, she tries to suppress her simp tendencies the best she can.

her eyes are always glued to you.

she doesn't give a fuck if she's being obvious to other people, but if you look her way she's blushing and whipping around before you can catch her staring.

if she sees you approaching, she'll straighten her posture and puff her chest out, subtly flexing her biceps. when you pass she deflates again with a sigh, relaxing back to her normal hunch.

you have no clue that sevika's interested in you for the longest time because she's always silent when you're around.

it's not that she doesn't want to talk to you, she just gets tongue tied every time you make eye contact with her-- so she chooses to stay quiet instead.

she grunts one syllable answers to all your questions, never quite looking in your eyes.

but she's always listening. she listens to everything you say. doesn't forget anything.

you're blown away when you bump into sevika on your birthday, and she shoves a small gift bag in your hand.

"happy birthday." she grumbles.

"how'd you know it's my birthday?" you ask, shocked. she stutters out something about you having mentioned it before, and then she flees before you can open the gift or thank her.

you open the bag to find a collection of all your favorite snacks

sevika had kept a mental catalog of which candies she saw you reach for most frequently, which chips you brought in most often.

the gift wasn't anything extravagant, but it took your breath away. you didn't even think sevika knew your name, much less your birthday and favorite foods.

it clicks for you then that maybe sevika wasn't being standoffish and dismissive of you, maybe she was just a huge simp.

you test your hypothesis by wearing a low cut shirt the next time you see her.

she runs straight into a lamp post she's so distracted by your cleavage, and that's all the confirmation you need.

"oh, shit!" you say, trying to suppress a giggle as you run to her side. shes clutching her bleeding nose, kicking the steel lamp post with her boot. "you okay?" you ask, reaching up to move her hand from her nose and inspect the damage. you keep her hand in your hold between the two of you, slowly bringing your other hand up to cup her chin, tilting her head down so you can see her nose better.

sevika looks shocked, like completely flabbergasted. her mouth is open, her eyebrows are reaching for her forehead and her eyes are sparkling and wide. you try not to smile as you tilt her head back and forth.

"you didn't break it." you say, letting go of her hand only to reach up and use the back of your sleeve to clean up the blood trickling down her lips. "but you'll probably get black eyes."

"oh." sevika says. she clears her throat. "okay."

"don't worry about it too much sevika," you say. she chokes when you say her name. "you look hot when you're all beat up." you say, sauntering away.

sevika stays frozen in place for five minutes, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened to her.

after that, flirting with sevika becomes your favorite pastime.

a well timed "looking good today sevika" can make her choke on her whiskey.

a wink shot to her across the room gets her giggling uncontrollably, pressing her fingers to her lips in an attempt to stop.

she starts flirting back too, when she can speak.

you're rambling to her about a recipe you want to try soon when she cuts you off, mid-sentence.

"you have nice eyes." she blurts.

you grin. "thanks, sev." you say.

(the nickname gives her butterflies)

(she jerks off that night to the thought of you calling her 'sev' in bed.)

you actually ask her out first.

she's shocked, so shocked that for a second you think you've read the whole situation wrong.

"oh, shit, i'm sorry sevika, i didn't-- i thought--"

"no!" she blurts. you blink.

"oh. well, okay." you say, trying to take the rejection in stride. she waves her hands in front of you.

"no no no! not no i mean, just-- fuck!" she gulps for air, "i've been trying to work up the nerve to ask you out for months!"

you smile. "oh." you say. she nods. "well... you were takin' too long." she snorts.

"so lemme do it now?" she asks.

"no way!" you say. "i already asked! you gotta answer my question fir--."

"yes!" she butts in. "i'll go out with you. but i won't let you pay. and i'm picking you up at your place." she insists.

once you guys start dating, sevika lets her inner simp shine.

the first time she sees you naked she actually swoons. like her knees go wobbly and she falls on her ass. luckily, the bed was right behind her.

she never lets you leave the house without at least three visible hickeys.

you're the only thing she talks about. she's not very talkative to begin with, but when people insist on making small chat with her, the only thing she'll bring up is you.

if someone's looking to get on sevika's good side, they ask her how you're doing.

those card games she's always winning? she spends her earnings on you, coming home with a proud little grin, shaking the coins in her purse at you. "gonna buy you somethin' nice tonight." she says.

she can sometimes be heard grumbling to the cards. "come on. wanna take my girl out for dinner."

won't let you open a door if she's there. always puts your shoes and jacket on for you. carries all your bags.

her favorite thing to do is watch you exist. she loves catching you when you think no one's looking. loves the goofy songs she'll hear you singing under your breath, the way you talk to yourself. the way you move, your unique quirks and ticks.

you guys could be in the worst fight of your relationship, but she'd never leave the house without kissing you and telling you she loves you.

always telling you how good you look in the most outlandish ways. doesn't matter how good you think you look. you could be in sweat pants on day 3 without a shower, and she'd be biting her lip and fucking you with her eyes. "you look good enough to eat right now."

"i look like i climbed out of the sewer."

"you look like the mother of this baby i'm about to put inside you."

she buys you guys matching 'best friend' necklaces, the kind that make a heart when you put the two charms together. she never takes hers off.

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #sevika x you #soft sevika #i hope u liked this anon!!! thank u for this request... simp sevika is the love of my life

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sea-of-dust · 9 months ago

Text

MAKOTO YUKI x GN! Reader

Summary: Dating headcannons

N: I had this just rotting bro posting this with the event. Ik u don't read these angst jumpscare. Also DO NOT listen to Malice Mizer OR SWEET (p5) while reading fanfic or headcannons for this guy you'll cry 7 times

Hm? Is something your gonna hear alot. He notices everything. Sometimes he purposely doesn't push you to tell him, other times he's told by Yukari.

He knows when your troubled, you can tell when he knows what's going on as he tends to get a bit closer before going "hm?" You notice when he's trying to comfort you. Trying to be sneaky just makes it more obvious, it's even more odvious when he sneaks snacks to you near your door, like he isn't the first suspect.

"?" He lays his head on your shoulder slowly inching closer. "You look like you're fuming. Did something happen?" "Nothing much just a headache" "I see" you never feel his arms wrapped around while you as you stood next to him, soft hums comming from him.

Makoto tries to hide his affections in public. Limiting it to hand holding or subtle matching things you both had on your person. The fewer people the higher the chance of him taking a small snooze on your shoulder, you end up giving him piggybacks when he does this.

He let's you listen to music with him. At the cost of a small tease. "I wanna listen aswell..." You look away clearly flustered to ask this "and why would my dove want that?" "HUH" you look at him wide eyed seeing him smirk "BRO" "? I thought I was your boyfriend" and back to the straight faced s.e.e.s boy. This was his way of flustering you, calling you a random nickname and then acting like nothing happened, you always reset back to bro when he does this making it even better for him.

He wanders...alot. This guy would get lost in a supermarket and be like "oh I lost them..." and then find you calmly while you'd just panic about where he was. He always appears from nowhere when this happens. "I've looked everywhere jimpei I'm considering going into the fountain..." "you walk so fast" he burries himself into the nape of your neck, "I almost lost you again" you were so lucky jimpei was on the phone and not in person or you two would have never stopped getting teased when you got to school

If you ever wondered about s.e.e.s or ever wondered why he was always so tired, he'd act like he didn't hear you. "So what's s.e.e.s, heard it had something to do with some sorta time thing?" He'd be right next to you. You saw him peak up and just go back to staring into the void seconds later. "I know you heard me" you furrow your brows slightly but he just lays there for a bit moves his hair and then goes "huh?" "UGHHH" you're not getting him to budge

That would be the case if you didn't have a persona he'd still try to pretend he didn't know until you saved him from a few shadows. "How did you get knocked down by wind of all things imagine I blow and you and you get stunned" your persona deals with them easily while you help him up. "So what is this place my princess, my shawty bae, my-" "please...shut up" "nah baby girl you brought this on yourself" he sighs but he did enjoy the free piggy back ride so he pretended the wind hit him THAT hard.

"You're still carrying him around" Yukari cringes "he can barely keep his eyes open tho" "oh he'll live watch this" Yukari turns around "we're gonna go get a sna-" "don't say it infront of jimpei unspelled" he groans nuzzling back into your neck "told ya, get him off your back" easier said than done the guys like those theme park bracelets you'll never get him off. "Yukari let go of me" his voice a bit annoyed "no chance! Come on you gotta walk like the rest of us think of y/ns back!" You got him to walk...but he had to hold your hand and would almost drift off again if you haven't move away everytime you noticed. "Please try to stay awake were almost done" "...." You catch his head "don't lean on me, how about this you can rest once we get back to my room" he suddenly has enough energy to walk without leaning on you.

He loves whenever he goes to your dorm. It always feels so calm in there like some sorta checkpoint. Sometimes he gets there before you already laying there like it was his own room. "Welcome home" "oh minato- wait...howed you get in" "you left the door unlocked" "oh" he tries to use the 'just wanted to study with you excuse' nah the dudes there for every kind of sfw romantic thing you can think of. He's there to be called lover boy unironcally! "Funny how you aren't as sleepy during the night" you move closer to him "you're nocturnal" you joke playfully giving him a small kiss on the cheek. In actuality he had eaten a bunch of candy so he could stay awake with you.

Take him with you everywhere!! If you'd e-mail him about anything related to heading out you don't even have to invite him he'd just magically appear. You don't even have to say WHERE you're going. "How do you always know where I am?" "This place is small"

He'd know what your into without you telling him almost sniffing it out. "I thought you'd like this" he hands you a small gift watching you blush immensely. "Howed you know I liked this kinda stuff" "I figure stuff out quickly" he did have hints though. The way you acted the way you looked at things simular to it. it made it odvious you'd like one of those.

He hides when he's sick always trying to hold back coughs or sneezes he suffers in silence and would prefer it that way. Why? Because the first time he was sick infront of you or anyone else no one wanted to be around him incase it spread. You were willing to of course until Mitsuru put a ban on seeing him for the sake of everyone's health, you still got tests to deal with ya know! So now he just hides it trying to recover quickly. Can't say the same for you though "cough cough! Ah sorry I've had a really bad cold lately" all he needed to hear to have you carried back to your dorm after school. "When we're you able to manhandle me" "please take this" he hands you a small medicine cap expecting you to drink it from there. "It's just a cold" "colds don't have you coughing yourself into orbit for it to just be a casual one" sighing you gulp it down

He'll pretend to not know how to put on his ribbon and ask if you're able to help him. Then turn around pull it off and look at you with a "can you do it again" face. He just likes the way you tie it while you're on the train with him.

Fastest Emailer EVER. You'd think it would take him litteral years since he sometimes leaves people out to dry, according to jinpei, and then he'd respond at the speed of sound to you nearly as fast as the email sends.

You try to pitch his cheeks only to get him to revert to an angry cat. So you've resorted to softer smaller pinches, he dosent mind as much now just don't too it too often or he'll start pinching you too

He may like using yarn with you. Depends on how easy it is though. "What are you making?" "A heart bracelet a girl asked me to make for her and her boyfriend" he reaches for your hand "do you mind if I try this?" "Sure it's in the left drawer" he could barely make the heart at first but as soon as you got a clipboard involved it was a whole diffent story, he was a machine, you didn't know this at the time but you definitely accidently made a yarn bracelet monster. Must have found out they can be made into sp items. That's why there's a lock on the left drawer now, he never opened it without asking its just to keep him from getting ideas, it does the opposite

He has his flirtatious momments, mostly just because he wants to tease you. It starts with a perfectly silent momment, in the classroom when they finally let you sit with him, nearly asleep in a library, on very rare occasions tartarus, he'd smirk and then lock in for the absolute chaos he's about to cause. A simple lean into your ear whispering softly yet clearly "I want a kiss" your eyes would always widen but you'd also respond with a whisper back "now?" Clearly slightly baffled you kiss him on the cheek quickly. Oh but sometimes that isn't enough, sometimes he just wants to see you melt, rubbing his hand on your already flushed cheek he leans in drowsy eyes meeting yours "I want a bit more please" he does enjoy you cupping his face and kissing him. When he does stuff like that you thank the lord the sees memmbers split up or you two are pretty much alone together.

There are times he's tempted to kiss you and then act like he didn't do anything. Cheeks are his favorite you can barely see him comming,*chu*, and now he gets to tease you make you think he never did such a thing "stop kissing me while i study" "wadya mean" "you gotta study focus on that" "i wanna focus on you more" "huh?" Another quick kiss "you did it again" "i dunno what youre talking about" exhaling you kiss him under the eye "lets get back to studying before it gets too late" and then hed lean onto your shoulder. He wants you to catch him more often

"I bought a camera! Let's take a few snaps, just the two of us!, "I don't see why not" holding the camrea steady, you take a picture of the shell he found. *SNAP* a picture of him looking out on the beach. *SNAP* "Why are you taking so many of me?" "I want you to last forever" putting the camrea down and walking toward him, he reaches his hand out. "Oh sure" you give it to him and he holds it up, making sure you're both in frame. *SNAP* a picture with both of you smiling as the sun sets on the beach. Softly looking at your features, his eyes land on ur lips, then cheek, eyes, then back to your cheek again. Smiling to himself, he holds it up again "you mind if we take another?" "Alright" *SNAP* soft lips press your cheek the momment the camera flashes. "You mind if I get another, the picture might be a bit blurry" with a rare smile on his face he pockets the picture. You covering the cheek he had just kissed. "Sure..." still surprised you lean into him smiling as the shyness gets to you. *SNAP* another kiss, happy with the photo he turns to you. "Do you have any plans after this?" "No it's straight to the dorm for me" "perfect" "?"

As you two walk home after changing clothes, he seemed to be more bright than usual as you wondered why, you were happy you got to see him smile like that. "I have something for you" "really? Me too!" "I'll meet you in your room then" hugging you before he leaves to his room to pick up your gift you collect what you had gotten for him, a DVD, a small bag with candies, and a rare jack frost you had won that you've customized to look like him. As soon as he opens the door you try to hide your gifts behind your back. "I can see them" "No you cant" softly giggling to himself he closed the door and gave you a case with a small bag with it. "Well since you've already seen then" you slide over the minato frost with the other things on its lap. "I saw someone do it on the internet and wanted to make one of you..." averting his eyes afraid he may not like it. He grabs its hands, then it's crocheted hair "it looks just like me" he pulls its cheeks. "And this is what I got for you" giving you the case and small bag. You decide to open the case first. Inside was a pair of headphones and a music player the same model as his. "How'd you know I wanted one?" "You eye mine alot, so I just figured" without much thought, you kissed his cheek "I don't know if I could put into words how thankful I am" You kiss him again. Excitedly, you open the small bag, revealing a bunch of stickers. "I wanted to decorate this with you if you don't mind" "I don't see why not" you excitedly put the sticker on his face then the case almost 5 stickers later his face again. "You look so cute with them all over you" "right back at you" giggling at his joke, you cover the player carefully in stickers with him. He even showed you how he put his music onto them.

Eventually what nearly always happens when he's in your room happens, his soft eyes flutter shut while laying on your bed the frost that looks just like him in hand. *SNAP* *SNAP* the opportunity was just too good to pass up, one for you and one for him to wake up to. You lay next to him moving his hair as to see both eyes. "Sweet dreams" your eyes grow heavy as they close. Days were sweet after that though you did notice him being a bit more busy, you didn't even notice when January ended, and he was nowhere to be seen. You asked most of the people you knew that spoke to him but they just ended up near teary eyed or near unable to say a word about it. "He's in a coma" Jinpei finally is able to croak out, "we don't know what happened to him" you feel your heart drop at his words, near running to the hospital after school and laying by his side. He looked so peaceful, you'd wonder what he was experiencing. Holding his hand for what seemed like it could be the final time you left, it felt a bit scary walking home without him with you.

You put on the music player he gave you, all covered in stickers he helped you put on. "Burn my dread...full moon full life...memmories of-" you hault finding yourself at the dorm, you go in, putting your hands in your pocket, reminding you of him, accidently touching his spare key he gave you, your mind suddenly asked you to go into his room. It felt like snooping, but the thought just wouldn't let you go. Opening the door, you find something on his desk, a letter along with a few pictures. "I may have forgotten to ask someone to give this to you, but I hope it someday reaches you, I'm writing this just in case something bad happens to me, I'm gonna miss seeing you when I wake up and waking up before you. All those candies I ate from you because I wanted to stay up late, all the times I've gotten free piggyback rides around town. I'm gonna miss you above all. I'm sorry I took your camera" getting to that part you look at the pictures on the desk one of him sleeping with the frost you made him, one of you trying on his sees uniform. "To be fair you already seen most of them, I just thought that if anything happened you'd want some of me" scattering them multiple pictures of him trying on your accessories, pictures of him smiling widely at your favorite places, pictures of him trying diffrent hairstyles. "I've bought a replacement film in advance, if you need to you can take my jacket and the mako-frost. They'll keep you warm" You look at more pictures, pictures of you and him, the kiss at the beach, you napping on him, a picture of you crocheting. "If push comes to shove, don't forget about me, keep living on, Makoto ps: thanks for letting me get this close to you"

#persona 3 #minato arisato #makoto yuki #gender neutral reader #fluff #headcannons #persona #persona 3 reload #angst #p3 x reader #p3 protagonist #p3 protag x reader #makoto yuki x reader #x reader #minato arisato x reader

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frieschan · 2 years ago

Text

bangtan with an idol gf // bts hcs

➳ member/s featured: kim namjoon, kim seokjin, min yoongi, jung hoseok, park jimin, kim taehyung, jeon jungkook x f! reader (separate)

➳ unrequested | headcanons // fluff/crack

➳ TW:

➳ summary: how would our bangtan boys be like with a girlfriend who is a fellow idol?

➳ AN: decided for a small break between workin' on querencia, if you have the time, pls check it out here! its a hybrid ot7 x m reader fic :) i hope more ppl would like it since its mainly my first time to create a full story.

➳ extra info: y/n's filler name will be yona as an abbreviation from 'your name' (yona), she is also around the age as vmin except older than the V

—KIM NAMJOON ; rap monster !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yojoon

-ˋˏ ღ library dates are a must, or even a hole in the wall cafe/library

-ˋˏ ღ listening to him ramble about a new book he read because he's ur baby

-ˋˏ ღ having plant kids that the both of u post about

-ˋˏ ღ you usually have to drive for him or the two of you bike to your destination, a few fans catching the two of you

-ˋˏ ღ he loves writing lyrics or poems about or for you, actually some of his songs are about you

-ˋˏ ღ cleaning after him was part of your resume in becoming his girlfriend.

-ˋˏ ღ he's broken so much shit in your house it's not even funny

-ˋˏ ღ he's your clumsy little boy

-ˋˏ ღ he also has rizz. very good rizz

-ˋˏ ღ always knowing when you're nervous around him with that fat brain of his (smart boy also)

-ˋˏ ღ he always gets so strained as a leader of the biggest kpop group and then having to translate for his brothers, he ends up just collapsing to you and sleeping for a while to recharge his battery

-ˋˏ ღ sometimes you think about the time he brought his bike inside his producing room

-ˋˏ ღ "jagi that's not a good idea-"

-ˋˏ ღ "army needs to see my bike!"

-ˋˏ ღ sometimes he doesnt even understand his strength cuz one time when you were on his favorite spot on the couch, he picked you up so fast

-ˋˏ ღ HIS FACE WAS SO SHOCKED

-ˋˏ ღ "YAH! WHY'D YOU DO THAT?"

-ˋˏ ღ "Why are you so light? Are you sure you're eating enough?"

-ˋˏ ღ "DID YOU FORGET YOU GO TO THE GYM ALMOST EVERYDAY?"

-ˋˏ ღ you and bts work together on babysitting namjoon always

-ˋˏ ღ you also know about the fact he watches porn.. a lot

—KIM SEOKJIN ; jin !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: jinna

-ˋˏ ღ you two are such a handful oh my god

-ˋˏ ღ even though he's the oldest, he acts like a baby with you and whines about everything

-ˋˏ ღ but then he can also baby you

-ˋˏ ღ he loves feeding you food or cooking with you on camera

-ˋˏ ღ He has 'Eat Jin' while you have 'Cook Yona' which is honestly really cute omg

-ˋˏ ღ whatever you cooked on Cook Yona, Jin would mukbang it in Eat Jin, sometimes he even shared! (barely)

-ˋˏ ღ you honestly love trying to fatten him up cause he's a sucker for food

-ˋˏ ღ usually once you guys are full, it's either you start cleaning and he starts gaming or other way around

-ˋˏ ღ one of your cute habits is whenever his break cheeks show up, you pinch them a lot

-ˋˏ ღ also he scolds (raps) you like every other member

-ˋˏ ღ you were with that one cooking episode where jungkook and taehyung were cooking, you felt so bad for them but it was hilarious to watch

-ˋˏ ღ whenever he games, you always make little snacks for him because you know he gets really mad at the game but its even worse when hes on an empty stomach (you dont want his yelling to disturb your sugar gliders)

-ˋˏ ღ you like to have jungkook over sometimes so he can play with jin since you THOUGHT that would make him yell less (no the yelling doubled.)

-ˋˏ ღ you recorded the two of them playing together and caught jin smacking jungkook for snatching his food (IT WAS FOR THE BOTH OF THEM.)

-ˋˏ ღ just dance nights are very common for the two of you after that one in the soop episode

-ˋˏ ღ fishing dates are suddenly also a thing now because he said so

-ˋˏ ღ his dad jokes make you sob on the inside, but then again the boys think of you as their mom since you worry your head off like one

-ˋˏ ღ "JAGI, IS KOOKIE OKAY?!"

-ˋˏ ღ "that brat is fine, he does dumb stuff a lot"

—MIN YOONGI ; suga !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yoona

-ˋˏ ღ to start this off, you bullied yoongi with the others.

-ˋˏ ღ BUT ITS REALLY FUNNY BECAUSE HIS REACTIONS ARE HYSTERICAL

-ˋˏ ღ YooNa moments are really hard to catch on camera, because yoongi has a preference on keeping a lot of your vulnerable moments private but when they do come up, THEY'RE ALWAYS LIKE A KDRAMA

-ˋˏ ღ there was this one scenario, both of your kpop groups were attending an event and were sat next to eachother (totally not on purpose uhuh)

-ˋˏ ღ the thing was, your company failed to think that your outfit wouldn't give you enough warmth, and the even was out in the open so you were freezing to death (BRUH)

-ˋˏ ღ and yoongles was kind enough to shrug off his coat and put it over your shoulders

-ˋˏ ღ he got rewarded with a kiss in private :)

-ˋˏ ღ whenever he has birthday lives, you're always there with him or well- you're in every live he has

-ˋˏ ღ he was wearing some goofy shades and a party hat while you were just watching

-ˋˏ ღ "you look like a clown, pabo (fool)"

-ˋˏ ღ "someone doesn't want cake"

-ˋˏ ღ you both glared at eachother after, even though you couldn't even see his eyes

-ˋˏ ღ the armies were just laughing their asses off in the chat

-ˋˏ ღ anyway, you honestly love his gummy little smile or the way he's an old man in a young body

-ˋˏ ღ your relationship reflects that statement, the both of you prefer being traditional most of the time

-ˋˏ ღ sure he loves watching movies for hours and taking a nap, but nothing would ever beat just watching the moon together

-ˋˏ ღ when he was nervous about releasing his first album, you were with him every step of the way! the production of music, drafting of ideas, the photoshoots

-ˋˏ ღ when you were gone for months on end because of a tour and press conference across the world, yoongi was absolutely depressed

-ˋˏ ღ he ended up releasing his frustration through music specifically, so far away that featured Suran

-ˋˏ ღ when you listened to it, your heart honestly shattered

-ˋˏ ღ that day, you promised yourself that you would always be with Yoongi, you will never be far from him for over 2 months, it was what made your relationship grow so much

-ˋˏ ღ you had seen every side of him, the raw energy of agustD, the creative and sweet Suga, then the truthful and reflecting Min Yoongi

-ˋˏ ღ and he had seen every part of you, Yona's love for her fans, and Y/N's truth

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you are absolutely in love, soulmates even

-ˋˏ ღ everyone is convinced that the two of you were made for eachother

-ˋˏ ღ OKAY BACK TO CRACK

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you love arguing with eachother as a joke and he just starts being a baby

-ˋˏ ღ you remember the one time you stole his last tangerine and he was so upset (not really but he wanted to be petty) that he THEN finished all the ice cream in your freezer

-ˋˏ ღ yes you ranted about this to your fans and yoongi heard, so he just walked up to you and started clinging onto you to annoy you

-ˋˏ ღ "YAH! Get off you man-child!"

-ˋˏ ღ "What if I say no"

-ˋˏ ღ "god!"

-ˋˏ ღ "Yes?"

-ˋˏ ღ you hated him being such a smart ass too but like it's okay i guess....

-ˋˏ ღ one time you slapped cat ears on his head and he was just flabbergasted while staring at you

-ˋˏ ღ (you snapped pics so fast and sent them to the guys)

-ˋˏ ღ ANYWAY you bullied him by constantly calling him cute and whatever (maybe even ahjussi)

-ˋˏ ღ ok but then he calls you a grandma too

-ˋˏ ღ sitting on his lap or on his sofa while he produces music is really calming for u

-ˋˏ ღ just baskin in eachothers presence <3

—JUNG HOSEOK ; j-hope !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yo-hope

-ˋˏ ღ he's your sunshine and you're his moon omg

-ˋˏ ღ it was such a 'sunshine and the moon that protects it' trope and the fans loved it

-ˋˏ ღ hobi was always there to cheer you up after a really stressful day at work and you loved him so much for it

-ˋˏ ღ it was absolutely amazing to come home to him after a bad day since he knew what to do to cheer u up and make u happyyy

-ˋˏ ღ when some antis were hating him, you couldn't care less if you had gotten backlash, you defended him in every way you could

-ˋˏ ღ at this point, hobi was all you could ever care about since the two of you had supported one another since day one

-ˋˏ ღ when you two announced the two of you were together, the positivity that came out was overwhelming and the both of you were absolutely overjoyed with it

-ˋˏ ღ yo-hope was one of the favorite ships in the k-pop community because of the contrast between the two of you

-ˋˏ ღ you were actually the one that got hobi to start doing lives again!!! you always encouraged him and made sure he heard the things youd end your live on

-ˋˏ ღ "Okay guys, if Hobi ever goes on live, please show him as much support and love you can! for me!"

-ˋˏ ღ and on hobi's first live, you were there and made sure to check if some of your fans had actually showed support and sure enough, it was full of usernames that were referencing your kpop group

-ˋˏ ღ you and hobi are almost inseparable unless absolutely necessary because whenever you arent around, sweet boy feels so incomplete

-ˋˏ ღ there are like hundreds of compilations of Yo-Hope moments, a lot of the time you would just walk up to hobi and cling on him cause you need your charger

-ˋˏ ღ HIS JOY IS YOUR JOY

-ˋˏ ღ You love watching the boys kinda just grab hobi and hug him too, cuz he really is bangtan's sunshine

-ˋˏ ღ when the maknaes mess around with hobi, you swear hobi should be in the maknae line

-ˋˏ ღ whenever hobi is about to collapse laughing, you always catch him while laughing yourself (you cant deny it, there are 10 minute compilations of it)

-ˋˏ ღ you know when he has his moments when he's really stressed and down, overthinking about a lot, but you're always there to keep him up

-ˋˏ ღ you'll always be his moon, his partner, his soulmate :)

-ˋˏ ღ okay not going to lie, you and yoongi have beef over who gets jhope more (literally glaring at eachother from across the room)

-ˋˏ ღ it's okay though! the both of u decided to glare at anyone who messes with hobi

-ˋˏ ღ (i'm totally not buttering u guys up bcuz jimin's hcs r so funny)

-ˋˏ ღ Jack in the Box was a wild experience for you, Jay was a whole other entity when you watched him perform

-ˋˏ ღ hobi wanted to show armies that he wasn't all smiles and that he also struggled, YOU WERE ALL FOR IT!!!!

—PARK JIMIN ; jimin !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yomin

-ˋˏ ღ jimin.. the punching bag of bangtan for the amount of funny and embarrassing stuns he has pulled

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you are such lover girl x lover boy though

-ˋˏ ღ jimin could care less about the cameras around, he wants his baby!! the editors can deal with cutting it out!!!!

-ˋˏ ღ he loves to just like.. snatch you away from everyone and like keep you on his lap

-ˋˏ ღ "jimin, can I get off-"

-ˋˏ ღ "No"

-ˋˏ ღ In terms of man child-ness, he and taehyung are verrryyy close

-ˋˏ ღ sometimes the three of you hangout, taehyung ends up being like the sibling you bring around while you and your s/o go out and buying the kid so much food

-ˋˏ ღ at this point, you don't know if taehyung comes for the food or for the companionship BUT ANYWAY back to jimin

-ˋˏ ღ you and jimin act like such a married couple (hes totally not planning to propose uhuh mhm yessir on god)

-ˋˏ ღ the two of you bicker and then end up having a whole kdrama scene and I think the other BTS members are really tired of it but who cares you two love eachother

-ˋˏ ღ the way you two guys met was the funniest part

-ˋˏ ღ you and him were hosting together, and while interviewing someone at a table and sitting down, jimin immediately fell down on live

-ˋˏ ღ you were fighting for your life to not laugh while the interviewee was just there flabbergasted

-ˋˏ ღ that's how you two became such a lover girl and lover boy couple

-ˋˏ ღ when his new album came out, he absolutely demanded you would make a cameo in the 'Like Crazy' mv and you ended up in it

-ˋˏ ღ so now you're in the theories for the music video but like it's okay cause they're entertaining

-ˋˏ ღ jimin probably reads fanfics of YoMin and he loves to be shameless about it when he's with you.. what a brat

-ˋˏ ღ speaking about brat, he has such an attitude sometimes oh my god

-ˋˏ ღ out of everyone, he also has such a strong satoori and it's funny and scary at the same time

-ˋˏ ღ HE SOUNDS SO CONDESCENDING- he loves using it when a guy tries harrassing you while the both of you are out

-ˋˏ ღ You know that one video with Taehyung and Jimin together, and Jimin starts threatening you in Satoori? Yeah imagine that 💀

-ˋˏ ღ he's so mean sometimes too I swear- he loves teasing and bullying you

-ˋˏ ღ In the name of your stans, you will beat Jimin up one day, just not today

-ˋˏ ღ when the both of you are live and you find yourself without your indoor slippers he's yelling at you like:

-ˋˏ ღ "WEAR YOUR SLIPPERS PROPERLY"

-ˋˏ ღ "URUSAI (SHUT UP IN JAPANESE FOR SOME REASON?)"

-ˋˏ ღ The armies and stans were just watching this happen like it was normal. They're all used to how you and Jimin are like when the two of you are together

-ˋˏ ღ They saw you smack jimin and then Jimin stared at the camera with his mouth agape

-ˋˏ ღ "ARMYYY SHE JUST HIT ME"

-ˋˏ ღ and then the messages were like "BEAT HIM UP Y/N" "GO OFF QUEEN" "MOREEEEEE 🤾🏻‍♀️🤾🏻‍♀️" "let her COOK"

-ˋˏ ღ and suddenly jimin was lying down on the floor while you scrolled on your phone

-ˋˏ ღ yeah you made him beg for forgiveness

—KIM TAEHYUNG ; V !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: taena

-ˋˏ ღ "tan-ahh don't keep Y/N all to yourself!!"

-ˋˏ ღ you were yeontan's momma ever since you and taehyung got together and it was obvious who was tannie's favorite

-ˋˏ ღ you loved to take pictures with yeontan and post it on social media, showing the world the adorable teacup pom with his popular momma! all with taehyung's permission of course

-ˋˏ ღ in one of taehyung's very much rare lives, the three of you were in bed with acoustic music playing in the back

-ˋˏ ღ though the live was very short, armies could fully see the love and admiration taehyung had for you

-ˋˏ ღ actually- he even decided to kiss you in front of the cam 😭

-ˋˏ ღ the next day, the clip was all over social media, taehyung personally thinking they're just overreacting about the whole ordeal like he's not one of the most powerful men in Korea 💀💀

-ˋˏ ღ but tae is your baby tbh (he's the goofy little dork in the relationship and you have to take care of him)

-ˋˏ ღ taehyung has this one cute habit where if he goes on live, he HAS to talk about your idol career or you in general at least.. like three times

-ˋˏ ღ everyone needs to know the beauty of Korea is his of course!!

-ˋˏ ღ you honestly love listening to his deep husky voice in their songs.. you love all of them but nothing beats taehyung's solo songs for you (they are in your everyday playlist)

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you love to wear matching outfits when you have to go out, and the fans go wild for it!

-ˋˏ ღ I swear to god you've seen a shirt with a picture of u and taehyung matching on it 😭

-ˋˏ ღ whenever your schedules let you, the three of you like to go out in the early morning to walk around the empty streets of seoul like a little family

-ˋˏ ღ this doesnt stop taehyung from wanting 3-5 kids in the future though

-ˋˏ ღ you and taehyung absolutely value time together since the both of you are constantly doing someone with their idol career, but at the end of the day

-ˋˏ ღ the both of you still lay in the same bed just admiring eachother

-ˋˏ ღ taehyung maybe locking yeontan out of the room if he was feeling a bit frisky that night

-ˋˏ ღ but anyway, this little dork loves showing you the random stuff he buys and it's honestly concerning and funny at the same time

-ˋˏ ღ and he's so freaking blunt about it omfg

-ˋˏ ღ "look at that chair with an ass on it" "tae, jagi, what the fu-"

-ˋˏ ღ AND THE HAS LIKE 10 RAMEN COOKERS IN HIS HOUSE HELP SAVE Y/N

-ˋˏ ღ even then, he still wants you to cook for him cause he's a lil baby that can't take care of himself omg

-ˋˏ ღ taehyung loves to abuse his tata mic face on you and it makes it so hard to say no to him, the situation goes like:

-ˋˏ ღ "Jagi, I want a bread maker"

-ˋˏ ღ "Tae, no, why in the name of Bang-PD would we need a bread maker??"

-ˋˏ ღ *tata mic face*

-ˋˏ ღ "oh my god- you are such a baby, fine ugh"

-ˋˏ ღ tae also has this one habit of like making up his own language or something, and the fact that you've spent years with him and as his soulmate, you are his translator alongside Suga

-ˋˏ ღ you find it absolutely endearing and adorable though

-ˋˏ ღ you know how taehyung is blunt yeah? he has said with a straight face before the following:

-ˋˏ ღ "If this idol thing doesn't work out for us, we should become a farm family and have an army of 5 kids and then an army of chickens to attack jimin-shi when he visits us"

-ˋˏ ღ lord have mercy on Y/N- WAIT 5 KIDS? 💀

—JEON JUNGKOOK ; jungkook !

-ˋˏ ღ shipname: yokook

-ˋˏ ღ the only thing he likes about the two of you being idols is that the both of you have a gigantic privilege

-ˋˏ ღ he absolutely hates the fact that the two of you lack privacy and the hate that comes from some 'army' (bruh)

-ˋˏ ღ other than that, he still is absolutely in love with you, full of adoration in his adorable doe eyes

-ˋˏ ღ you know how he's the ambassador of Calvin Klein? You're also an ambassador so CK decided a couple shoot with the both of you would be good coverage for them

-ˋˏ ღ another pro about the couple shoot is that you can make it clear to your fans that the both of you are very much devoted to each other

-ˋˏ ღ weekly training together is a must! an absolute must!!! or else kookie will get sulky and sad for the rest of the week and cry to bam or something

-ˋˏ ღ on one of his late night lives, you had walked into the room while he was talking to army, he had the galaxy doohickey on and a candle next to him

-ˋˏ ღ "hi tokki" you greeted him with a soft smile

-ˋˏ ღ "noona!" he immediately took his attention off the chat to walk to you and give you a kiss

-ˋˏ ღ the army were going crazy in chat with "YOKOOK!!" "MY SHIP SAILED" "Love to YoKook from ___!! <3"

-ˋˏ ღ after the small kiss the both of you sat on the couch and you greet the army with a wave and lazy grin

-ˋˏ ღ you and jungkook made some small talk while some music played on the tv, you could only assume that he was doing some karaoke before you got home

-ˋˏ ღ while the two of you talked, you caught a glimpse from chat that includes "Kookie looks so inlove with her🥺🥺", "He grew up so fast and now he has an amazing gf 😭", "His eyes tell so much!!!!"

-ˋˏ ღ the smile that appeared on your face couldn't be contained, the moment jungkook saw your smile, he turned to look at the source and he couldn't help but smile himself at all the comments

-ˋˏ ღ "Thank you for all the support, Army. I'll always hold Army, BTS, and Y/N close to my heart"

-ˋˏ ღ honestly you made him pull out the slight busan accent (its so hot bruh wtf the little sigh at the end) and you loved the way it sounded

-ˋˏ ღ You went to go do a quick errand in your shared bedroom so you left Kook alone in the living room to do whatever he was doing

-ˋˏ ღ what you came back to was absolutely adorable and hilarious.

-ˋˏ ღ you saw a kookie in slumber, a chat going wild the moment they saw you, and the candle still burning.

-ˋˏ ღ you laughed as you read some of the comments from chat and blew out the candle, you bid army farewell with a promise that you will take care of the golden maknae

reblog or like if you enjoyed!

#: ̗̀➛beige basement writes #: ̗̀➛mommy fries writing #beige basement writes #bts x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #kim taehyung x reader #park jimin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #jung hoseok x reader #min yoongi x reader #kim seokjin x reader #bts fluff #bts x reader fluff #bts x female reader

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