#i listened to him saying get her about 50 times he said it so softly 🥺🥺🥺 it was not aggressive at all

[joelscruff]

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

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

It's crazy how one weekend can change everything.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe your mother can solve this problem for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What did you do?"

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

"Did you go to your lesson on Saturday?"

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

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

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

"So have you? Been making progress?"

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

"Which ones are you learning?"

Oh fuck.

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"For what?"

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

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

Your stomach twists uncomfortably.

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

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

"Just.... bein' open."

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

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

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

Oh. You didn't know that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You're looking at his daughter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But you did."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's fuckin' crazy about you.

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

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

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

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

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

"Need it deep inside, huh?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shiver, "Why didn't you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is it?"

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

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

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

The anxiety settles, and you believe him.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His expression falters, "Why, baby?"

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

"I like driving, it's peaceful."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

It feels so fucking good to have Joel Miller.

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

buying lingerie, what is this?? help!!

Of course, Tasha is the first to reply:

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

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

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

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

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

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

why is being sexy so awkward and expensive?

welcome to my life sister

158 DOLLARS FOR 3 SCRAPS OF MATERIAL

that's it, let it all out

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh, cool."

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

"Is it that obvious?"

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckles, "What were you expectin'?"

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

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

"Did you remind her?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You giggle, "Yeah, probably not."

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

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

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

"Tangled Up in Blue, Bob Dylan."

"I knew it was Bob Dylan."

"Good ear. You play?"

"Um, not really."

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Need your pussy touched, baby?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

Hold on...

Angel

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

You wince, "Oh. Right."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

This is too much, you want to say.

How much did you spend? you want to ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

He does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shiver at the thought.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

Are you in Dallas yet?

Let me know when you arrive.

What hotel are you staying at?

Text me back now.

Where are you?

Answer the phone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You read the message again, and then again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There's a beat of silence, then -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But it -"

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

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

"What d'you mean?"

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

"Is that my crucifix?" you ask quietly.

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you.

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

But you already know that it is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"The sweetest girl," he says softly, leaning his face forward to kiss the corner of your mouth, "Already beggin' for my cock, huh?"

You mewl and grind your crotch against him again, already feeling the wetness returning to your panties in slow pulses. He just smiles and finally walks with you to the bed, tilts you downward and lays you out like you're a meal he's about to indulge in, swallow whole. And god, you want him to. Need him to. He pulls back to stand over you, hands going into his pockets as he peers down at you with lust in his eyes.

"Lemme just look at you, babygirl," he says quietly, eyes trailing to your breasts, your bare stomach, your exposed mound and soft thighs. He nudges you over a little bit and then sits on the side of the bed, hand reaching down to stroke one of your arms, slow and gentle, "You look so beautiful."

You lie there, staring up at his face with hooded eyes as you try not to squirm under his gaze. His hand moves from your arm to your shoulder, your shoulder to your collarbone, your collarbone to the space between your breasts. Just like you'd imagined when you'd bought it at the store, he deftly fingers the buttons there a few times, tracing them up and down.

"Pretty," he murmurs, and without warning he slowly slips his hand inside your bra, fingertips brushing your nipple. You whimper again, another surge of arousal dripping into your underwear.

"My sensitive girl," he whispers, brushing it again and smiling when your hips buck, "Are you wet, baby?"

You nod quickly, expression hazy, "Yes."

"How wet?"

Your thighs rub together almost unconsciously, another pathetic sound slipping past your lips, "Really wet, Joel."

He chuckles softly at your impatience, releases your breast and leans down to press a slow and wet kiss to your neck. You moan softly, eyes fluttering closed as his lips trail gently up and down the expanse of your neck, your chest. You feel his hands curve up underneath your back, busying themselves with the latches of your lingerie.

"As much as I could look at you wearin' this for hours," he whispers, "I think theres somethin' under there that deserves my attention." He slips the bra off easily, tugs the straps down your arms and exposes your bare breasts to him, nipples peaked and hard. He immediately captures one in his mouth and starts to suckle gently, hand traveling downward to rest teasingly on your inner thigh.

Fuck, it feels so good. Your eyes roll behind your lids, mouth popping open as you sigh in contentment and just let him play with you. He sucks and licks, nips lightly every so often, travels between both breasts like they were made specifically for him to have in his mouth. Your pussy pulses somewhere below, feeling beyond ignored, and you rub your thighs together again to try to ease some of the pressure. He notices and his hand inches upward to cup you through the material, eliciting a gasp from you.

He pulls off your nipple and you open your eyes to see him peering up at you, eyes almost black, a smirk on his face, "Need your pussy touched again, don't you baby?" You nod, lips turning downwards into a pout, "Okay, sweet girl. I won't tease you too much."

You're very much aware of the fact that Joel is still fully clothed, a fact that you have to admit turns you on a lot more than it probably should. You watch as he crawls on top of you carefully, hooks his legs around you and slowly eases downward, eyes staying locked with yours as he starts kissing his way down your stomach. Your heart rate quickens again, but this time you welcome it.

His fingers play with the straps of your garter as he presses soft kisses to the tops of your thighs, the dips of your waist. You shiver when he presses gentle kisses to your mound, fingers slipping inside the band of your lingerie and carefully tugging it down to expose your pussy to him, wet and aching. He pulls back to look at it, expression one of pure lust as he thumbs one of your lips and pushes it open.

"There she is," he murmurs, "The sweetest little pussy."

"Joel," you moan, closing your eyes and focusing entirely on the way he thumbs your outer lip, caresses it softly like it's something precious and fragile. He dips his thumb further inside and brushes against your folds, sending another thick and syrupy drop of release onto his fingers.

"Look at her pulse, baby," he says, voice husky and dark, "Droolin' for me."

You open your eyes again, watch him lean down and lick a stripe through your dripping folds, collecting the juices on his tongue. You whimper when he swallows and leans in to press a whiskery kiss to your clit, already puffy and twitching.

"She's cryin' for my cock, honey," he breathes, "Been waitin' so long, been so patient."

"Please," you whisper, and his gaze meets yours again, "Please put it in." The words are filthy and full of desperation, your brow furrowing in pleasure as his thumb slowly begins to circle your clit, "I need it."

"I know, sweet girl," he whispers, "But you gotta wait just a little bit longer, gotta let me taste this perfect little cunt first," he presses kisses along your folds, kitten licks past them a bit to slip the tip of his tongue just barely inside your hole. You whine, hand coming down to touch his hair while the other grabs one of your breasts and begins to toy with your nipple, as if on instinct.

He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, hands coming up to grip your waist and hold you still as he starts to eat you out. Just like the first time, it's beyond overwhelming, your eyes shutting tight and your teeth biting down hard on your bottom lip as his mouth does sinful things to the most intimate part of you. He plunges his tongue inside and buries the curve of his nose in your clit, rubbing it up and down, back and forth, while you whine and whimper above him. Your fingers tangle in his hair and holds his face firm between your legs while he tastes and devours.

"Joel," you keep whimpering, unable to stop from saying his name every chance you get, a reminder to yourself that you're really here with him right now, that he's the one making you feel this way. He barely pulls up for breath, scruff glistening with your release as he pleasures you relentlessly, arm coming up to splay across your belly and push you down into the mattress, holding you firm.

He makes you come easily, but that's no surprise. Just like in the truck earlier, you cry out and toss your head back, body shaking through your orgasm as he sucks on your clit and slips one of his fingers easily inside of you, curves it and makes your body rise up off the bed in pleasure as you shiver and squirm.

"Good girl," he tells you softly when he releases your clit from his mouth, looks up at you with dark lips and messy hair, "That's my good girl."

Only for you Joel, you want to whisper, but you're too blissed out to speak, Only wanna be a good girl for you.

You feel him press soothing kisses around your pussy, finger still slowly pumping in and out as you calm your breathing. He pulls it out and brings it to his lips, sucks it with a deep groan, "God, you taste so good," he murmurs, resting his head for a moment on your thigh and inhaling deeply, "So fuckin' sweet, babygirl."

You remember the first time he'd tasted you, remember how you'd come so hard you'd seen stars, remember how he'd come in his pants. The thought makes you sit up on your hands, look down at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Did you come?" you ask, slightly worried for a moment.

He laughs, pulls his head up and begins to crawl back to you with a smile on his face, "No, not this time. That was a moment of weakness." He cups your face and and looks down at you with a soft expression, "You wanna taste yourself?"

Without any hesitation, you nod. Joel leans down and presses his lips to yours, eases his tongue inside and lets you indulge in your own release, your own special flavor. You've never really tasted anything like it before, unsure how exactly to describe it - you're not sure you'd really call it sweet, but it's not bad by any means, just... different.

"Good?" he asks.

You shrug, "It's... interesting."

He chuckles, pulling his face back, "How're you feelin'? You wanna stop?" You look up at him like he's crazy and he laughs again, putting his hands up, "Okay, okay, just askin'."

"I want-" you cut yourself off, feeling blood rush to your cheeks, and he peers down at you softly.

"What d'you want, babygirl?" he murmurs, "I'll give it to you."

You reach up to tug at the collar of his shirt, finger the buttons there, "I want this off," you breathe, "Want all of it off."

He nods slowly, eyes hooded as his eyes fall to your wet lips, "Okay, what else?"

"Want you to fuck me," you whisper again, as if he doesn't already know. Your hand reaches downward to carefully cup the long shape of him through his pants with trembling fingers, "Want it inside."

He reaches down, covers your hand with his and squeezes softly, "You want what inside, baby? Words."

"Your cock," you whisper, edged with a whine, "Want your cock inside me, Joel. Please. No more teasing."

He smiles softly, "Okay, baby. No more teasin'."

Watching him undress sends tingles all throughout your body, lips parting as he undoes the buttons of his shirt and tosses it to the floor, reaches for his belt buckle and slowly starts to unfurl it. He keeps his eyes on your face, watches your expression as you bite your lip and assess the way his cock juts out underneath his pants, begging to be taken out and touched, played with. The thought makes you sit up on the bed, lean toward the edge and dig a few of your fingers into his waistband, pulling him closer.

He watches as you slowly move forward to mouth his cock through his pants, lips parting and stretching around the big shape. You sigh in contentment at the feeling of it pulsing through the material against your tongue, drag your mouth up and down a few times as a whimper gurgles in your throat.

"Thought you said no more teasin'," he murmurs, and you feel his hand come to rest at the back of your head, helping you move. You moan softly around his length and you can practically hear the smile in his voice when he says, "Just need it so bad, don't you?"

You do. You can't count the number of days you've thought about it now, thought about it against your face, your thighs, your pussy. You want it everywhere - you want him everywhere. You've waited so long and you're tired of being patient, of waiting for the right time, the right moment. It's here, it's now, and you're ready.

"Please," you breathe again, pulling your mouth off his clothed cock and looking up at him with wide, almost tear-filled eyes, "Please fuck me, Mr. Miller."

His eyes go dark and the smile fades from his lips, hands coming down to unzip and unbutton quickly as you lay back on the bed and open your legs. It takes no time at all for him to be completely naked, pants and underwear thrown haphazardly off to the side while he crawls back on top of you and starts kissing your neck again, skin rough and warm. Your hands come up to grip his bare back, eyes closing as you let him silently worship you, kiss every inch of skin he can reach.

You can feel the heavy length of him on your thigh, settled there as it pulses and leaks. It's so big, so thick, and you can't help but reach down and engulf it in your small fist, fingers still unable to go all the way around. He groans into your skin, pulls back to look at you again.

"D'you want me to use a condom, babygirl?" he asks, even though he knows the answer - he wants to hear you say it, which you appreciate.

"No," you whisper, "Please don't."

He groans again at your words, reaches his hand down and easily slips two of his fingers inside of you without any resistance. You're so ready, have never felt more ready for anything in your entire life. You know you should be reveling in the moment, taking time to enjoy and appreciate - but at the same time you just want him inside of you already, want to be connected to him in the rawest of ways, complete. You can't wait anymore, you can't. He starts to add his third finger and you whine, wishing it was something else.

"Gotta open you up a little more, sweetheart," he tells you quietly, filling you with all three fingers and slowly starting to pump them in and out, "Want this to feel good for you, don't wanna hurt you."

"I want your cock, Joel," you mewl, tears welling in your eyes.

"Shhh," he kisses you gently, fucks you slow, "I know, baby, I know. Just a minute now, sweetheart. Be patient for me."

"Don't wanna be patient," you're starting to sound like a bit of a brat but you really don't care, the desperate and touch-starved part of you just aching to be filled up, held close, fucked deep. "Wanna feel you in my stomach, please."

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, almost a groan as he pulls his fingers from you and drags them against his cock, taking it from you carefully and then pumping himself twice with your release, "Okay, babygirl, I hear you, I got you."

Joel eases himself downwards carefully, hovering over you like he had last weekend. He kisses you again, soft and safe, a quiet reminder that what's about to happen means more than what it seems like on paper, means more than either of you could even articulate. He peers into your eyes tenderly, reaches up to push some stray hairs out of your face.

"I'm gonna go real slow," he tells you, "You tell me the second somethin' doesn't feel right, okay? Promise me."

"I promise," you whisper, hands splaying across his back and pulling him down further so your breasts are pushing softly against the hair on his chest, impossibly close. You just wanna feel him, feel all of him.

When he says slow - he means slow.

You'd felt the tip of him last weekend, were already anticipating the burn and stretch, but this time there's not the same desperation, the same time limit or rush. Now you have all the time in the world, the clarity to take it as slowly as you need to in order to really feel everything, make it count. You feel the shape of his wide head carefully nudge the tiniest bit into your throbbing heat, and your eyes immediately go wide.

"You're okay," he reminds you softly, just like he had last time, "You're alright, angel."

Your nails dig into his back and you nod, peering up at him with a look that you hope says, I know, and I trust you, because you do. He kisses you gently and you feel his hand at your thigh, pushing you open a little wider for easier access. The garter strap strains against your legs but neither of you make any move to remove it.

He pushes inside a little further, his whole tip crowding the space at your entrance once again. You make an odd sound, something that comes from the back of your throat, and he freezes.

"Okay?" he asks, and you frantically nod. "That's the tip of me, baby. You got it, you're doin' so good."

"More," you whisper, voice breaking, "More, please."

He reaches his hand back up and locks it into place on the headboard above you, holds himself up as his knees dig into the plush cotton of the duvet. With his other hand he slowly eases more of his cock inside, just a little bit.

"Fuck," you hiss, and you can feel it now - the burn, the stretch. It's not painful by any means, but it's not comfortable either. You make a face and Joel stills, brow furrowing.

"Hurts?" he asks softly.

"N-not really," you breathe, "It's just - it's really thick."

He kisses you again, noses the side of your face and inhales deeply, "You tell me when to move," he murmurs, "You're in control from this point forward, babygirl. What you say goes."

You take a few deep breaths, eyes closed as you hold Joel to you and revel in the way he peppers tiny little kisses all over your face, your nose, your eyelids. Now it's his turn to be patient, and he's certainly much better at it than you are.

"Okay," you breathe after a moment, "Okay, you can move."

He inches in another little bit and your hips stutter, hands trembling against his back. You don't say anything, just grip him tighter and bite down on your lip - more stretch, more burn. But there's something about it, something about the odd sensation of being spread open, that has your pussy suddenly throbbing - and you whine.

"Tell me to pull out and I will," he murmurs in your ear, "We can spend some more time-"

"No," you whimper, shaking your head, "No, Joel. It feels good." You grip tighter to him and tangle your ankles with his, wanting to be even closer than you already are, "Keep going, please."

It goes like that for a while - a continuous push, inch by inch, a whine or whimper, a check-in from Joel, reassurance that you're alright, then the cycle starts again. You quickly grow accustomed to his girth, the stretch getting significantly less and less the longer he stays pressed inside of you. You're painfully aware that this probably isn't the sexiest experience for him, that he'd probably much prefer being able to go deep and stay deep and pound you senseless - and as much as that thought also appeals to you, you know there's no way your body could handle it on the first go.

"M'sorry," you mumble to him quietly during another moment of adjustment, both of you laying still while a little more than half his cock sits patiently inside of you.

"For what?" his eyes scrunch, confusion clear on his face.

"F-for taking forever to get used to it," you admit apologetically, eyes going downcast, "Especially after I begged so many times."

He shakes his head, eyes narrowing, "Do not apologize for somethin' like that, sweetheart. This is about you, not me."

"But I'm-" you take a breath, forcing yourself to be honest, to not keep your worries inside no matter what, especially in such an intimate moment like this, "I'm scared you're not enjoying yourself."

His eyes widen, "Not enjoyin' myself?" He almost laughs, light and soft, "Sweetheart, do you have any idea how fuckin' good you feel?" You shake your head and he leans down to kiss you, moans softly against your lips, "Your pussy's so tight around me, sweet girl" he whispers, "She's pulsin' around my cock, it feels fuckin' incredible."

Your thighs tighten a bit against his waist, center throbbing once again at his words. He groans, and it finally sets in that every throb you feel, every pulsation, every twitch, he can feel it too. Because he's inside of you.

"You're inside me," you whisper, and it sounds like such a dumb revelation but you don't care, lip trembling a little bit as your fingers stroke gently against his back.

"I'm inside you," he echoes, voice soft and reassuring, "M'not goin' anywhere, baby. Gonna take it as slow as you need me to."

He's so gentle, so tender, it makes you want to cry. How did you get so lucky to be having your first time with someone like this? Someone who genuinely wants you to feel good, feel taken care of? Someone who feels beyond amazing? His cock is so big, so perfect; he feeds it to you over the next few minutes, makes you whine and cry out in the dim light of the hotel room, legs trembling and hands coming up to cover your eyes as he finally bottoms out, finally eases himself completely inside of you - and stills.

Full. You're so full. It's the only word that seems to cross your mind, any and all other vocabulary going completely out the window the longer you lay there with his cock buried deep inside. He carefully pulls your hands back from your face and kisses you again and again, murmuring praise.

"You're doin' so good, angel," he whispers, "Takin' it so well, such a good girl."

It's not that filthy of a thing to say, but his words do something to you then that you can't really explain. Odd sounds escape your throat, slip past your lips pathetically as you squirm a bit beneath him. Your eyes shut tight, heart beating fast, not a thought in your brain other than the fact that there's a huge appendage lodged so deep inside of you that you can't even think, can't speak.

"I know," he's whispering, carding his fingers through your hair, "I know, baby. That cock is so big, I know, I know," he kisses your temple, holds you close, "So big inside that little pussy."

"Joel," is all you manage to whimper out, toes curling in pleasure, "Joel."

"I know," he murmurs again, and you swear he pushes his hips forward just a little bit more, the heavy shape of his balls pressing firmly against your ass, "I'm in your tummy, baby, just like you wanted."

At his words your shaky hand travels downward to feel your stomach, press your palm against the skin there, and your eyes snap open when you realize you can feel him there - near the bottom of your tummy, feel the long and thick shape of him bulging out from beneath.

"Fuck," you breathe, and his eyes meet yours, dark and hungry, "Fuck, I f-feel it."

His hand comes down and covers yours, helps you move the garter belt out of the way to shape your fingers around the long shape of him. You can feel the fat head pulsing deep within you, pushing against something you didn't even know was there, every throb sending constant gushes of release around his cock. You must be a mess down there, slick dripping down your thighs as you whine again and reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair.

"Ohmygod," the words are almost slurred, garbled, and you're realizing very quickly that talking with a cock inside of you is very difficult. Your thighs squeeze together again and Joel groans.

"God, you feel so fuckin' incredible," his expression is wrecked, plump lips parted as he inhales and exhales, "You're chokin' my cock, honey."

You can't wrap your mind around the fact that this isn't it, that simply having his cock buried deep inside you isn't the actual sex itself. Because how can just this feel so good? How can you feel so close, so full, so wonderful, all from just this?

Joel leans down and buries his face in the pillow, nudges his nose to your ear and whispers, "D'you want me to move, babygirl?" to which you immediately respond, "Yes."

At your okay he slowly eases himself out of you, the sensation unlike anything you've ever felt before as inch by inch he leaves your body until just the head sits heavy and waiting at your entrance. He looks down at you, thumbs your cheek, and murmurs, "Who's my good girl?"

You shiver, moan softly, eyes closing again, "I am," you whisper.

Just as slow, he pushes himself back inside, and you cry out and bury your face into his neck, legs shaking.

"Who is?" he asks you again, burying himself to the hilt and stroking up and down your naked body gently with one hand, "Who's my good girl? Tell me again, angel."

"I am," you repeat, a bit louder this time and drenched in pleasure as he slowly pulls out again, leaving you almost empty. "Joel," you whisper, and he pulls his face back to look at you, nipping at your bottom lip and pouting at your already fucked-out expression, "Joel, it feels so good."

"I know, baby," he murmurs, then eases himself back in, brings your hands down to your stomach again to feel the way his cock protrudes lewdly against the skin, "You're takin' it so well."

"I-I've-" you whimper, tears overflowing, "I've n-never-"

I've never felt like this before, you want to say. I've never felt so close to another human in my life. I've never wanted to live in a moment more than I want to live in this one.

Instead, he just brings a finger to your lips, eases himself out again and murmurs, "I know," like it's a mantra, "I know."

You feel him thumb your clit and you can't believe that anything could feel this good, that anything could even compare to the way it feels to have Joel everywhere like this, so deep inside and above and all around, his scent lingering in every move he makes, his hair pressing firm to the softest parts of your body. He's so warm, so safe, and more than anything all you can think about is that thought from before, the one you know now to be absolute - I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.

He keeps the pace slow, doesn't let go of you or pull away even once. You already know you're not gonna last, not with his thumb rubbing you like that and his cock so unrelenting and huge inside of you, filling you up in a way you never thought possible. You're pretty sure that you've only got one more orgasm left in you tonight but you don't feel worried or stressed out by that fact - you have a whole weekend for more of this, to explore and experience and enjoy.

"I'm gonna come, Joel," you breathe, and you can feel tears stinging your eyes as you say the words, "I'm gonna come, I'm gonna come."

"Okay, baby, that's it," he encourages you softly, thumb unrelenting against your clit, "Lemme feel you come, angel. Let it out for me. Give it to me, sweetheart." And you do.

Coming around his cock feels fucking incredible. Your pussy tightens and throbs, releases more slick than you could even imagine, and you feel yourself start to cry, tears flowing down your face as a sob wracks from your throat as you pull him down on top of you. He fucks you through it, groaning in your ear at the way you continue to choke his cock, tight and firm.

"Fuck," he groans, "Fuck, angel, I don't think I can last."

"Then don't," you cry into his ear, eyes shut tight as your body convulses, "Don't wait, Joel. Want you to come inside me, want it so bad."

He makes an unhinged noise, his thrusts becoming a little faster, a little more erratic. Without warning you kick your legs up to wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer and letting out another loud moan when you both hear the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. He's so deep. So, so, so deep. Just like he said he'd be.

"Fuck," he mumbles in your ear, "Fuck, I'm comin', honey, I'm comin'." At his words you feel the massive length of him pulse deep inside, your walls constricting around the intrusive shape as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth opening in a silent gasp of pleasure as you feel the warm spurts of his come begin to coat your walls, filling you up.

"Joel," you breathe, and you're pretty sure your nails have broken the skin of his back but he doesn't seem to care - if anything it makes him groan even louder, makes him pull back to look at you and make direct eye contact as he empties himself. You stare at each other, eyes wide, lips parted, and he leans forward to press his forehead to yours as his jaw clenches.

The moment he's finished coming he falls on top of you with his entire body weight, something you welcome instantly. Your hands roam up and down his back, feel the crescent moon shapes lining his skin as you close your eyes and let the reality of what's just happened wash over you, settle into your very being. It's only when you shift a little underneath him that Joel finally pulls himself up to look at you. He's so beautiful, hair a mess, lips red and raw, cheeks flushed, and tears shining in his soft brown eyes. He nuzzles his nose against yours and breathes a long sigh, one of satisfaction and contentment.

"Stay inside me," you whisper. You don't know why it's the first thing you say, but somehow it feels like the most important. Because the idea of him separating from you now after what you've just shared, the idea of not being within his embrace or feeling as connected as you feel right now - it sounds like the worst thing in the world.

"Okay, angel," he murmurs, eyes sleepy, "M'not goin' anywhere."

You close your eyes, breathe him in.

I love you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #fic: feelings on fire #*

[lloromanic0]

Just made this blog to post random smut I have in my notes app. I hope you like them x

Bill Kaulitz as an exchange student looking for an English tutor ;)

 

You woke up around ten am, looking out your dorm window contemplating the rain hitting the glass. After about five minutes you finally got up a started to get ready for your classes, you looked at your schedule that was hooked above your desk, today you had English C1, German B1 and English literature. You were a languages enthusiast you had always been interested in learning new languages you loved communicating with others so picking a languages major was the only right choice for you. Since you lived close to campus at 10:50 you started walking to class hopping to be there by 11. The cold morning breeze hit your face making your cheeks feel cold and look slightly red, the rain had stopped by now, but some drops fell occasionally from trees or rooftops. After around 7 minutes of walking, you finally got inside and went straight to class. You didn’t have many friends, just enough to keep you company during the long days at university. As you were approaching the big classroom you saw one of your friends that was a part of some sort of Student Council which welcomed exchange students, of course she was always busy talking to people, but she never made you feel left out. As you got closer to her, she immediately spotted you giving you a big smile and you smiled back at her.

“Good morning, Y/N!”

“Good morning, Amelie.”

“I’ll get in the classroom just in a second I’m just handing some fliers to the exchange students.” She said while still smiling at you.

You nodded as you looked behind her to peek at the exchange students, when one of them really caught your eye. A tall, slim man with long black hair was looking directly at you making you feel slightly intimidated by his aura. After engaging in this staring contest with him for a few seconds you got inside of the amphitheatre taking a seat close to the edge. 

 

Around ten minutes passed, and you saw Amelie walking inside the classroom looking for you, you waved at her as she gave you an expression of relief. She sat next you exhaling deeply and looking at you right after.

 

“Lots of work?” You ask. 

 

“Quite a bit, but you know me I love meeting new people and try to give them the best university experience even if it’s just for a semester”. 

She said smiling with her eyes closed. She truly had a beautiful heart. 

You smiled softly again, you liked to talk to people, but you also loved you alone time and well Amelie barely had any due to all her responsibilities and you weren’t about to sacrifice that, but you did help her anytime you could.

Then she looked at you, she looked a bit..embarrassed…you didn’t know how to describe her expression well enough.

 

“Y/N can I please ask you to do me a favor.”

 

Your face got a bit hot at the sudden request, but you nodded firmly.

She quickly exhaled and began to talk.

 

“So there’s this one German exchange student that speaks very poor English and he came to me asking if anyone would be able to tutor him so that he could communicate better with people and to also help him pass his classes while he’s here”

 

“Why me?” You bluntly ask. 

 

“Seriously? You’re a top student in English and you’re practically fluent in German you’re literally perfect to be his tutor!”

 

You kept silent for a bit. 

 

“Listen I know you like to have your alone time specially after classes but if you could spare 2 hours let’s say…3 times a week to help him it wouldn’t harm you…”

 

“Also he’s willing to pay...”

 

“It’s not about money Amelie. But since you’re my friend I’ll see what I can do to help him”

 

She smiled and thanked you.

 

4 pm

After your tree classes Amelie asked you to meet her at the student’s office so you could schedule a time to tutor him. You kept wondering who this German student might be. You entered the office closing the door behind you when you saw him. The tall slim man who was staring at you this morning. You got close to him trying not to blush again, Amelie appeared behind you making you jump a little.

“Hi! I’m so happy you came; this is Bill your new student.” She said giggling, also making Bill smile, you sat next to him.

 

“Hallo“ he said smiling.

 

“Was geht“ you replied. 

 

“I’m sure you’ll get along well” Amelie interrupted “So” she said while sliding you a piece of paper “These are the days that Bill is available for tutoring so you can see if it fits your schedule”.

 

Tuesday from 5pm-7pm

Thursday from 4pm-6pm

Friday from 8pm-10pm 

 

You looked through your schedule then looked up at them smiling slightly. 

 

“This is fine”

 

Bill looked very excited and so did Amelie.

You and Bill exchanged phone numbers and you three walked out.

«I can’t thank you enough Y/N! » Exclaimed Amelie.

Bill kept his eyes on you the whole time, you felt his gaze scanning your body it was hard to admit it, but you loved the feeling. You waved goodbye to both, and you tree parted ways. After the same 7-minute walk you did everyday you finally entered your dorm room and threw yourself on the bed. You closed your eyes starting to feel sleepy when suddenly your phone vibrated.

Texts

Bill: «Hope to see you tomorrow Süβe ;)»

You stupidly smiled at the text quickly snapping out of your daydreaming and giving him a quick reply.

«Yep, don’t be late :)» you placed your phone down and fell asleep a few minutes later.

You woke up the next day, it was a sunny morning today the warm sun felt comforting on your skin but it was still as cold as yesterday. You checked your phone for the time and noticed another text from Bill, your heart raced a little.

Texts

Bill

«Good morning, Miss what should I bring to class today? » you laughed a little at the nickname he called you.

«Your total concentration and maybe a notebook and a pen would be nice».

«Yes ma’am» he replied.

You only had 2 classes today so around 4pm you would be free so had an hour to prepare some sort of exercises for Bill to practice after class.

4:50 pm

After putting on some comfortable clothes you quickly set up your desk so that Bill had space to sit down, when suddenly you heard a nock on your door, the noise startled you but you quickly calmed down remembering it was probably Bill. You looked in the mirror for a second fixing your hair and makeup and then opened the door.

He was leaning on the side of the door frame towering over you as you stared at his figure.

“I thought you were going to leave me out here.” he said pouting his lips in a playful way.

You just laugh in response and tell him to get in.

“Do you want a water or maybe a snack?” You asked trying to make him feel more comfortable.

“Water please!”

You grabbed a bottle from your mini fridge and gave it to him.

“Danke.” He said

“In here we only speak English ok Bill?” You replied playfully.

“Yes ma’am”

You rolled your eyes and sat down next to him.

“So I prepared a list of things that I thought would be good for you to practice.”

You showed him the list: conjugating verbs, irregular verbs, pronunciation, correct way of writing sentences etc..

He read trough it as his eyes widened.

“So much….”

“I’m here to help you Bill we need to work on these aspects if you want to get better.”

He looked like a sad puppy he was so cute you couldn’t help yourself.

“Anddd if you do a good job I’ll even reward you.”

He look at you with a little grin.

“Can I choose the reward?”

You tilted your head and lifted your right eyebrow a little

“Don’t you think you’re asking for too much already?”

His cheeks got pink, you didn’t know if it was from embarrassment or shyness but he looked so handsome like that.

You cleared your throat and stared to show him some work sheets on verb conjugation.

5:45 pm

 “Professor…”

“No need to call me that Bill don’t be silly.” You said while giggling a bit.

“I can’t remember this one. I hate irregular verbs!” He exclaimed slightly mad.

“You can do it just think hard. After you finish that we can take a small break.”

His face instantly lite up as he worked hard on his paper. After a few minutes he finished it and as you corrected it,you told him he could take a break.

All of a sudden you feel arms wrap around you shoulders.

“Y/N are you done correcting? I thought you were taking the break with me.”

You gulped hard while you looked at his hands hanging from your shoulders.

“Bill…I need to correct this before we move on you know that..”

“But…” he slightly hesitated to speak “…I want you to pay attention to me”

His words made you bite your lower lip lightly.

“You can sit with me if you would like.”

He pulled his chair to sit down.

“Not there Bill.” You pulled yourself away from the table a little and placed your hand on your exposed thigh.

“Sit here.”

His face now painted red and his mouth slightly hanging open, he looked at you and you gave him a smile of approval. He walked over to you positioning himself on your lap. You placed one of your hands around his lower stomach making him exhale nervously.

“Are you comfortable?” You whispered. He nodded and kept still while you finished your work.

6 pm

“All done,you did quite well Bill I’m impressed.” your hand caressing his thigh.

“All thanks to you..” his voice slightly cracking.

“Are you ok Bill? If you don’t feel comfortable please tell me.”

“Y-yes I’m fine Y/N”

You looked over his shoulder and saw the evident tent in his pants,you licked your lips and slowly moved your hand up his tight.

He let out a shaky breath.

“What’s wrong mein liebe?” You asked innocently.

“Nichts…” his breath getting heavier each time your hand approached his erection but never touching it without his consent.

With that you took your hand off his thigh and flipped through some more work sheets.

“Warum hast du aufgehört!?” His tone slightly higher.

“English please.” You said teasing.

He scoffed “Why did you stop…?”

“Stop what Bill?” You whisper close to his neck.

“You stopped touching me…”

“You want me to touch you?”

He nodded, his breath getting heavier.

“But where Bill?”

He stopped for a second getting embarrassed to ask you to touch his throbbing cock that made his tight pants feel very uncomfortable.

“Tell me Bill…” You whispered in his ear starting to kiss his neck while rubbing his thighs again.

“Touch me between my thighs please…” he begged in a low tone.

“I couldn’t hear you baby can you repeat that?” You wanted to tease him until he got to his limit.

“Please touch my cock…It hurts so bad.”

“That’s a good boy, so obedient.”

You moved your hand up his tight slowly palming his erection through his pants.

You unzipped them and pulled his boxers down as his hard cock sprung out of them hitting his lower stomach. For such a slim guy he was definitely bigger than average. The pink head of his cock was coated in his precum,it twitched quite often desperately seeking some sort of stimulation. You hand wrapped around his base slowly pumping him, he whimpered and whined,your slow touch making him feel more agony rather than pleasure.

“Please…faster.” He begged,breathing heavily. You quickly complied to his request since he was being so well behaved. You stroked him faster as your wrist started to get sore but the erotic sounds he was making were enough to make up push through the discomfort. With one hand you massed his balls, and with the other you circled his tip with your thumb, he moaned loudly with the doble stimulation.

“Sshh keep it down Bill, you don’t want the whole dorm to know how much of a whore you are.”

“Sheiße….i can’t- I’m so close-“

“Cum for me liebe.” You ordered.

With a few more strokes he came all over your hands coating them in his thick semen.

“Thank you-thank-you..for helping me cum…” he kept thanking you as he laid his head back on your shoulder so that he could look at you.

You kissed him a few times complementing him, telling him he did a very good job and how he was such a good boy.

You helped him clean up and walked him to the door since it was already past time and you didn’t want your dorm mates to suspect anything.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at university Bill.”

“Yeah…text me when you get there.” He gave you a big smile.

“Will do.” You smiled as you pulled him down for one last kiss, this one being a little longer than the previous. You opened the door for him and watched him walk down the corridor looking back at you a few times, when you lost sight of him you closed the door and went back to your room.

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz smut #bill kaulitz smut #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel x you #smut #dom reader #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz x y/n #bill kaulitz x female reader

[pinkhoneydrop]

From Birthmarks to Pancakes

[ A/N ] - part 2 to "Something About a Birthmark" it seemed like i should give Harry and the reader some more time together lol let me know what you think : )

[ Pairing ] - Harry Styles x Reader!

[ Genre ] - Fluff

[ word count ] - 2k

[ Masterlist ]

It was kind of weird how fast your relationship developed with Harry. One day your making trips to your local coffee shop and the next your making trips to the coffee pot on your counter that he bought for you because “no one’s coffee tastes like yours.” Or so he says.

It had been 6 days. 6 days and five nights since Harry returned back to touring. Could you even be sad about it? The stage was his home, and you knew it. The fans would take care of him. But there was a part of you that just longed for him. The morning that he left he kissed you on the forehead and squeezed your hand in his.

“Is it too soon to say I miss you?” His voice barely above a whisper as you embraced him. It was all very sweet. You cared so much for each other. Both of you shared a sadness at having to be apart for a while, but you figured you would have to get used to it. His car took him to the airport and the plane took him to LA.

6 days later and here you were sitting on your couch with your phone facing up on the pillow next to you. You were waiting for Harry to call. He had rung you for the past 5 nights in a row. You felt giddy like a teenager or a little girl waiting to speak to her crush. Not like the 26-year-old woman you really were. The hair on your arms perked up as the clock ticked closer and closer to 1am. You might regret staying up so late eventually, but you just missed Harry so much and you would do anything to have him near you again. To have him close.

You got your wish nearly 50 seconds later when his name flashed across your phone screen.

H💫…is calling…crossed the screen as the phone dared to buzz off the pillow.

“Why do you insist on calling at such an odd time?” You chuckled into the speaker. Harry sighed a breath of relief when you answered so soon.

“Jus’ miss hearing your voice.” He breathed softly into the speaker and your face flushed at the sound of him speaking. The sound of shuffling and something being set on a hard surface filled the call before Harry spoke again.

“Do you? Really?” you asked shily.

“I love to hear your voice, even when you’re so far away.”

The call was filled with the normal topics. How the day was for both of you. What you had eaten for breakfast. Mundane things always seemed to calm his thoughts.

“Just cereal, didn’t have any eggs in the fridge.” Your voice was soft as you spoke. Harry laughed as he recounted the times the two of you had breakfast together.

“Do you remember the last breakfast we had together?” a cheeky smile found a home on his lips as he thought about that morning.

“Harry that was 6 days ago how could I not remember.” You laughed again and your face got warm. It was extremely early that morning and you had made quite the spread for him. Harry awoke to you in the kitchen with your underwear on your hips and bare feet padding around the stove.

“Listen I have something to ask you.” You wondered what he could be asking that he hadn’t asked nearly every night that week.

“Y-yes? What is it?”

“Do you wanna have breakfast together again?”

“That’s a silly question, of course I do but I won’t see you again for weeks.”

“I wan’ you to come see me. In a week.”

“What?”

The phone call was silent for several moments. Both you and Harry getting increasingly anxious by the second. Was he serious? He really wanted to see you that bad? It scared you.  Breakfast became merely a means to coax you into saying yes. It was a sacred time for you. You always said breakfast was an intimate time to be shared.

“Y/n? are you there?”

You hadn’t realized you never said anything to his question.

“Yes.” You smiled as you spoke and Harry swears, he could hear it in your voice.

“To which question?” He joked trying to ease the tension on the call.

The anxiety of flying halfway across the country to visit a man you had been dating for a short time hit you all at once. Harry was famous, he was used to jet setting and needing new people all the time and doing spontaneous things. That’s why you liked him, but you couldn’t say when you met him a few months ago and spent two weeks together in your apartment shortly after that you would drop everything and go see him in LA on a whim. But surprisingly yes, you we’re about to do just that.

“Yes, I’ll come see you. In a week, right?”

///

Sock clad feet plant themselves on the floor followed by a second pair of feet. The cool air of the hotel was cascading through the room and causing you to shiver. You were still happy to be there though. To be included in the process of touring. Well, for a short time that is. You flew in a couple of nights ago to see Harry upon his request. And it was definitely successful. Nearly gave the man a heart attack at the sight of you in his dressing room after his show.

Now here you were arms draped around his torso waddling along with him to the hotel bathroom to watch him brush his teeth.

“Remind me why we had to get up again?” You whined as he maneuvered around the sink. A chuckle passed through newly formed foam from toothpaste. And his eyes caught yours as you pouted in the mirror while still hanging on him.

“You know I’m not sure I remember telling you, you had to come prep tomorrow’s show with me today?” Harry teased and finished up with the sink. Placing a chaste kiss to the side of your mouth and dragging you along with him to his clothes. Reluctantly you let go so he could dress for the day, but the pout never left your face as you slump on the bed.

"Why are you staring at me grumpy?" Several sighs and some good intuition tipped Harry off to your stare that was boring a hole in the back of his head as he slipped on a pair of Nike shorts and running shoes.

"You look so pretty." The word almost came out in a whine. And you reached your hands out for a hug.

“You’re sad ‘cause I look pretty? That doesn’t seem quite right now does it darling?” Harry moved so he was standing between your legs as they draped off the mattress.

“You can always join me for my run!” A cheeky smile graced his lips as you groaned at the suggestion. Running? You? This early? No. Never. Harry’s thumb grazed against your bottom lip as he laughed.

"I have to go, or I’ll never make my run.” Harry whispered and then kissed you softly once more before gathering what he needed and heading out for a nice jog about the city. You stayed back and just relaxed in the room. Random people on the tv keeping y9ou company as you scrolled through your phone to pass the time.

About two hours later and Harry was back in the hotel room with you. The sun was rising further, and you were now dressed, fully showered and ready to greet the city. The knob on the hotel room door clicked before revealing Harry with his little clip in his hair. He made his way over to the bed where you sat and cocooned you in his arms for a hug.

He missed moments like this. Moments where he could just enjoy you. When he could hold you and take in how you smelled. Releasing you from the hug Harry spoke in a tired voice.

“I thought we could go for a late breakfast.”

Those words rang in your ears. You smiled and nodded your head quickly while rushing to get your bag. The two of you made your way down to the parking garage of the hotel. Shiny lacquered cars all lined up in rows. The sounds of humming engines and the squeak of rubber from Harry’s shoes hitting the concrete filled the area.

Harry stopped you just before unlocking the car door for you.

““I believe I deserve another good morning kiss.”

“Oh? Do you?”

“yeah I do.” Pulling you into him he placed a soft kiss to your lips as you giggled.

Breakfast came faster than you thought. Soon enough a tall stack of pancakes was sat in-front of both of you to share. A bottle of syrup a cup of hot chocolate and a cup of coffee. The two of you were sat by a window facing the busy streets and sidewalks. Harry kept his sunglasses on as not to cause too much attention to himself.

“you know, I don’t think those work as well as you think.” You chuckled to your self as a couple girls stopped by the window trying to snap a good photo of the man sitting across from you.

“Ahh, ley them have there fun. It’ll be a while before anyone finds me here but besides I have you to protect me.” A swift wink punctuated the words as he took a sip of his coffee.

“what are you doing all the way over there anyway? Get over here.” Harry motioned for you to come sit next to him on the opposite side of the booth. The change was easy, and you ended up thigh to thigh and arm to arm. You smiled while looking at your arms touching. He was so clingy. Always needed to be touching some part of you when he was feeling tired.

“c’mere.” You gestured for him to look at you. The fork in your hand was filled with the last of the pancakes. You held it up to his face and Harry let you feed it to him while he sat with his elbows on the table. Both of you smiled as he finished the food off.

Breakfast had been long since enjoyed by the time the two of you had your conversation interrupted by a song. Well not just a song. Harry knew it to be one of your favorites. You perked up instantly when the first note played through the speakers of the restaurant. You started going on about the lyrics and what they mean. Harry loved to watch you talk about it. How your voice got animated and how you would grab on to him when you remembered another detail. It reminded him of those two weeks back at your place. He would pick a record from your collection and the two of you would lay in the floor whilst talking about the music playing louder than it should.

Harry got up from his seat rather suddenly and you looked to him with a surprised expression.

“What? What are you doing?” you questioned him as he moved a few chairs to make some space around himself.

“jus’ give me your hand.”

You didn’t realize Harry was trying to dance with you until he spun you around and began to rock back and fourth to the beat of the song. He never failed to make you feel special. Like you were worth all the trouble in the world if he could just sway with you in his arms like this.

“We have an audience.” Your voice was muffed from its spot on his shoulder. Harry looked around a sure enough there were some cameras on the two of you but he shrugged it off. if he knew anything to be true it was that there would be many more opportunities in the future for leaked photos that included you.

“Let them look.” It was a matter of time before there were photos all over the internet.  Headlines graced articles like “Harry Styles and a mystery girl?” or “Harry Styles seen slow dancing in the middle of a restaurant.” There were many more, but the photos were so sweet he had to save one or two to his phone for the memory.

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #harrys house #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader smut #harry styles x black!reader #hslot 2023 #one direction

[hannawinchester03]

COULD HAVE BEEN WORSE..

Bucky x Fem reader!

(Y/n) and Bucky are set up to go on a blind date to get their minds off of the hectic lives they both live in, their mutual friend told them about one another and now here they are.

Little to much backstory about the main character I promise it’s important for the next part of the story!

This chapter contains: flirting, small talk, smirking, teasing, slight touch, coffee date, exhausted body, height difference, dominant behavior, and submissive tendencies, main character energy

Word count: 4,172 (girl I couldn’t stop)

(Y/n) was a strange specimen of a woman she often thought to herself, she spent most of her days rushing off to work taking the New York trains stopping along the way, at her usual stops, always making sure she had enough time as usual.

First at the corner store grabbing her coffee that was most days brewed in a burnt coffee pot giving it a strong kick she always thought she needed, or in a clean coffee pot knowing business has been slow that day giving the worker time to scrub the pot clean. “You know I could kill you, the coffee tastes better when you’re in a rush, serving thousands of customers” (y/n) said she’d always tell the worker earning a chuckle out of the both of them as they say their goodbyes as she leaves on her way to her next stop.

Second as she sips on her coffee she walks into the local cafe grabbing a cinnamon raisin bagel with plain cream cheese, one for her and one for her friend along the way. She exits humming to herself as she has one headphone in, her phone buried in her pocket and the long earbud string tucked inside under her shirt as it came out from the collar so they wouldn’t fall out as she walked or sometimes ran up the stairs in a rush. Listening To the same music as usual, music from the 50s or 60s, made her seem to float away from her daily life.

(Y/n) always seemed to take a bite from her bagel as she adjusting her strap of her tote bag while she ran down the subway stairs, taking the time to chew on her piece of bagel as she got the bottom of the stairs she’s glance over at the estimated arrival for her train making sure she was going to be on time, she always ways, she always took the time to leave a hour or two early to make sure she had time to stop.

(Y/n) made her way through the crowd swiping her metro card as she slid through the gate saying a few small mumbled “sorry”s as she moved to the left going towards her train admiring as there were travelers staring at the city map trying to figure out where they were. “You guys are here, kinda old so it’s hard to tell.” She would say happily to the people as she pointed to the scratched up plastic covering the map protecting it from the millions of people who touch it.

As she made It the train platform she’d glance around looking for her now called friend as she notices she walked over smiling happily, she had been taking the train for years now, always watching as people ignored a man begging for food, nothing else from her at least, she bought him a bagel one day and now it’s a part of her daily routine.

“Here you go mitch, as usual.” She hummed happily to him, taking the bagel out of the tote bag handing it to him, smiling at him as he took it. “Any good music today?” Mitch asked as he took a bite out of the bagle letting out a satisfied hum making (y/n) chuckle. “Can’t we be sweethearts? Why don’t we fall in love? right from the start, you’re the girl I’m dreaming of.” (Y/n) began to sing out, making her foot tap against the pavement. “The cleftones! God i love that song” Mitch called out making (y/n) chuckle as she nodded. “I’ll see you later, don’t wanna be late!” She said softly, making Mitch smile as he took another bite. “Oh you’ll never be late.” He hummed to her making them both chuckle as she ran off toward her train as the doors opened.

Present day

(Y/n) can’t help but let out a small groan as she pushed the heavy covers off of her, not really wanting to get up and out of bed. She hadn’t gotten to bed until midnight last night, which may seem normal to most people but she was tossing and turning for two hours before eventually taking some melatonin to make herself knock out.

(Y/n) sat up on her bed, her back rested against her headboard and pillows as she grabbed her phone checking the time and for any messages or phone calls. All she saw was a message from her friend Natasha. “You better be there, I wanna hear all about it!” (Y/n) read aloud making herself huff as she replied back with a simple “okay.”

(Y/n) opened up her music app letting it play as she sat her phone on the nightstand, sliding off of the bed slipping on her slippers as she walked over the closet humming along to the music as she flipped through shirts finding what one to wear. She settled on a Led Zeppelin shirt that was tie dyed with bleach and a flannel that was her favorite neutral color terracotta, just a good middle tone that made her eyes bright as diamond she’s been told when she was younger so she always wore the color.

After picking out her shirts she moved over to her dresser pulling open the drawer already knowing what pants to grab as she picked up a pair of nice navy blue jeans that hugged her in all the right places. Along with a pair of underwear and socks in the drawer next to the one she had open. She tossed all the clothes onto the bed and closed the drawers making her way to the bathroom.

As she got into the bathroom she did her business, then got to work on her hair, she began to brush it out from the shower she took last night making her hair curl up as she tossed and turned it always made her hair look curly but with a simple brush through it was gone so she always brushed it. Once her hair was brushed through she used a small claw clip and pulled her side pieces out of her face as she began with her make up. All she applied was winged eyeliner and mascara not watching to go over the top.

Once done in the bathroom brushing her teeth, she went back out to her room kicking off her slippers as she pulled her pajama shirt off tossing it to the side near the hamper grabbing her bra she threw on the ground yesterday as she changed into her pajamas, She pulled on her shirt and flannel then pulled her pants on. Glancing over at the clock on her nightstand seeing that 30 minutes had already passed making her huff as she pulled her socks on sliding on her vans that were the same Terracotta color as her flannel.

(Y/n) grabbed her phone from her nightstand and her tote bag making sure she had her keys and wallet as she turned the music off and tossed the phone into her bag, quickly going into the bathroom to put on another round of deodorant and grabbed her perfume spritzing herself a good 20 times all around as she spun around making sure she was fully coated in the strawberry scented perfume.

Once she was satisfied and felt as if her head was on straight she grabbed her keys out of her bag turning off the lights in her apartment as she locked the door backing into the hallway, she tossed her keys into her bag as she began to walk towards the stairs seeing her neighbors had a garbage bag outside her door so she grabbed it as she walked down the stairs and tossed it out as she exited the building knowing her neighbors would do the same for her.

(Y/n) walked down the sidewalk going towards the train station frowning a little as she passed by the corner store where she would usually stop but how could she get coffee if she needed to be going on a coffee date. She huffed softly as she waited for the light to change and crossed the street when it was safe, once she made it to the train station she swiped her metrocard and took a left waiting for the train going uptown.

“Oh look at you all dolled up!” Mitch called out as (Y/n) walked onto the train platform, she turned her attention towards him and lightly shook her head. “Oh please, this is nothing.” She said as she pretended to bat her eyelashes at him making them both chuckle as she listened to the train as it slammed on its brakes to stop and pick the people up. “I'll be back later, with your bagel I promise!” (Y/n) called out as she rushed to get into the train car and waved at Mitch as he nodded, smiling happily at her.

(Y/n) eventually made it to the train stop, getting off with the crowd of people as she opened up her message with Natasha making sure she was going to the right place, so she clicked onto the link of the address and nodded to herself knowing exactly where it was at so she turned her phone back off and stuffed it back into her pocket.

After walking a few blocks, she turned the corner and saw the cafe, she smiled softly as she noticed there was a place that you could sit outside at, noticing a couple sipping on their coffee talking amongst themselves. She let out one last small sigh as she had already made it to the cafe so there was no going back now.

(Y/n) walked into the cafe clearing her throat a little as she stepped aside so other people can still walk into the cafe as she glanced around a little looking for her date, the only thing she had in mind was a tall man that had short hair with a scruffy looking beard, he always wore leather. This is all Natasha told her, when (Y/n) asked more about the man Natasha would hum to her saying “Oh you’ll find out, you two will be perfect together. He’s just what you need.” With a wink making (Y/n) roll her eyes at her friend's words.

After a few seconds (y/n) laid eyes on a man who was turned with his back towards her, facing the window as he observed people walking past, she watched as he leaned back into his seat adjusting his leather jacket as he settled into his seat she could tell he had the short hair she was told about and when a customer's name was called he glanced over giving her to view of his scruffy beard.

(Y/n) walked over to the table adjusting her tote bag on her shoulder and pushed some of her hair behind her one ear smiling softly. “James is it?” She spoke out once she had gotten to the table and smiled softly at him as he turned his attention towards her.

“Yes, but most people call me Bucky, or Barns. Kinda strange I guess.” He states as he cleared his throat and pushed his seat back standing up, standing tall and proud at six feet tall making (y/n) take a step back since she was only the average female height of five foot four inches. “It’s nice to meet you.” He said softly as he looked down at (y/n) with a soft smile.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’m (y/n).” She started out as she returned the small smile and turned in her spot a little looking over at the line of people who were ordering. “Yeah, I know. Anyway, shall we order?” Bucky said, pulling (y/n)’s attention back to him as she raised an eyebrow at him slightly at his ‘I know’ remark.

“Sure, gotta decide what I want anyways.” (y/n) mumbled out as she watched him grab his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder as he began to walk toward the end of the line as she finished off her sentence following behind him.

Once she made it into line behind him she let out a small sigh slightly already regretting the decision to show up, since he seems to not want to be there. (y/n) was pulled out of her thoughts as he stepped aside so that she could see the menu as well he continued to look at the multiple options finally settling on something he thought sounded good to him.

“The caramel macchiato sounds good..” Bucky stated as he glanced over at (y/n) for a second taking the chance to admire her side profile as she kept looking at the menu with her eyebrows slightly squinted as she tried to read through all the options as there were too many to pick from.

“Yeah, I don’t know though. Don’t like anything too sweet..” (y/n) stated as she looked away from the menu and glanced over at him feeling that he was looking at her making her show him a small grin as they were next in line. She watched as he looked back up at the menu and gripped onto the strap of his backpack as he stepped forward.

“Morning. I’d like a tall Black coffee with a little bit of sugar.” He stated as he cleared his throat a little, showing the barista taking their order a small smile. “And whatever she’d like.” He added as he stepped aside letting (y/n) step up to the counter.

(Y/n) watched as he stepped aside and said this to the barista. She took a step so she was in front of the counter and showed the barista a smile. “Good morning, I’ll take a tall black coffee, no sugar, no cream, just your darkest roast please. Gotta make sure I’ll be awake.” (y/n) joked with the barista as she took the order making the girl laugh making (y/n) smile happily, she always tried to make people laugh because she knew it made her feel special for being so talkative compared to her younger self.

“Would you like anything to eat?” The barista asked as she looked between the both of them and the two of them lightly shook their heads. “Okay your total is $6.45.” The barista said happily as she looked at the both of them.

Bucky pulled out his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a $10 bill handing it to her with a smile “You can go ahead and just keep the change.” Bucky stated as he handed the baristas the bill, he then stepped aside so the other customers could order as he glanced over at (y/n) watching as she moved around him walking over to the other side of him waiting for their order to be called.

“Two tall black coffees, one with sugar.” The other barista called out not long after since it was a simple order compared to other things on the menu. “Thank you!” (y/n) hummed out happily to the other barista with a smile as she grabbed both of the coffees as there were other customers lingering over the counter desperately waiting for their coffees.

“Excuse us.” Bucky stated as he moved behind (y/n) holding his hand on the small of her back as he followed behind her through the crowd of people to get back to the free space of the cafe making sure she didn’t bump into anyone.

Once they were in the clear he moved his hand away from her back. “So, would you like to sit inside or outside?” He asked as he raised an eyebrow at her, now taking in the fact that her cheeks were now a light shade of pink.

“Inside is fine, the chairs are more comfortable.” (y/n) said softly to him as shyly looked down at the cups of coffee reading the labels on them seeing which one was hers, once she knew it was hers she took a long sip, not being able to help it as she let out a small moan from the pleasant surprise of how strong the coffee was.

After taking a sip (y/n) held the other cup of coffee that was bucky’s out to him so he could grab it. “Is it that good?” Bucky asked as he took his cup from her hand raising it up to his lips as he took a sip letting out a small groan of pleasure as well making (y/n) let out a small chuckle as she nodded in response to his question as if to tell him ‘I told you so.’

(Y/n) turned around and hummed softly as she looked around the cafe finding a table that was close to the window walking over to it. (y/n) took a seat on the bench so that her back was against the window, as she settled into her seat she let the tote bag slide off her shoulder and set it next to her as she leaned back into the comfortable padding on the chair as she watched Bucky take his seat across from her.

“So Natasha set this all up, how do you know her? From college? Any fun stories I can tease her about?” (Y/n) asked as she leaned back into her seat more settling into the comfortable seat behind her as she waited for a response.

As she waited for a response she kept her eyes up on him now having the time to actually take in his features and his whole essence. She couldn’t help but think about his simple gesture as he held onto the small of her back as they walked through the crowd of people earlier, making her mind race off to a couple different places thinking about if he was controlling now, would he be controlling in bed.

“I actually just met her pretty recently, she’s friends with one of my long time friends, well he’s more like a brother to me. They know each other and I guess I’m friends with her now, if that makes sense.” Bucky stated as he sat up in his seat a little more keeping his eyes on her as her eyes looked him up and down in his spot making a small smirk appear on his face, he always liked the attention but he still wasn’t sure about the whole situation since it’s been years since he’s dated or even went on a date.

Bucky cleared his throat as he sat his backpack on the ground next to them and leaned back into his seat so he seemed more relaxed watching as her eyes moved from his face down towards his chest making him chuckle. “How exactly do you know Natasha?” He asked his voice firm as he wondered if she knew about Steve and the others, wondering what exactly she knew about him.

“Oh I know her because she comes into my work, just small talk here and there. She invited me for lunch and we have been friends ever since.” (Y/n) stated as she watched him lean back in his seat a little knowing well that he was doing it on purpose so she could look at his chest so she pulled her eyes up towards him to give him her full attention.

Taking the time to observe his facial features as he looked at her with a somewhat cautious look in his eyes, something (y/n) always seems to know about people, no matter if they had just met. She liked to make people laugh and observe people making people feel safe and welcomed but this man was different, she couldn’t seem to put her finger on it.

“Do you know much about her? She's the kind of person that many people don't know much about.” Bucky asked as he sat up in his seat a little bit trying to see if he could get the information from her, seeing if she would give him any clues about how much she knows exactly about their whole situation.

“The only thing we talk about is what she is reading or researching, just small talk.” (Y/n) stated as she watched him sit up in his seat making her do the same thing as she knew what he was trying to do, get information from her making her smirk a little as she raised her coffee cup taking a sip as her eyes were locked with his taking in the fact that his pupils were beginning to dilate in interest.

“Oh, and one time she told me that she got the chance to kiss some guy named Steve, it was for work according to her, but it still was interesting, it got her pretty worked up.” (y/n) stated as she sat up in her seat a little more taking in the fact that bucky began i lean in his seat more getting closer to her with a wide grin on his face.

“Oh is that so, now I have something over their heads.” bucky stated as he kept his eyes on (y/n) as he looked at her with a wide smirk, knowing that now he can tease his best friend about his “work relationship” he let out a soft chuckle as he watched (y/n) take a sip of her coffee, and shrug a little. “Hey she deserves it, I don't know who the Steve guy is but she teases me about getting a boyfriend all the time.” (y/n) stated as she sat the cup of coffee down back on the table looking down a little as she leaned back into her seat.

“Oh so she told you that you need a boyfriend, you seem pretty independent.” Bucky stated as he took a few seconds to look her up and down a little as she leaned back in her seat. “ You seem to have your needs met..” Bucky added as he looked back up at her eyes with a small smirk as he licked his lips a little as he raised the cup to his lips taking a sip as he kept his eyes locked on hers. “Unless I'm wrong, then I might be available to help you out.” he added with a smirk as he sat his cup down on the table waiting to hear her reaction.

(Y/n) listened to bucky as he said, this sitting up in her spot with everyone of his statements keeping her eyes locked on his as she looked him up and down as he did the same to her making her lean her elbows against the table listening to the last of his little speech seeing his smirk making her return the gesture and smirk back as he slowly leaned back into her seat once again.

“If i may, her exact words were..” (y/n) began to say as she reached into her pocket grabbing her phone, opening up the messages between her and natasha. “You don't have to marry him, just grab a coffee together and see where it leads to.” (y/n) said aloud as she read the message keeping her eyes down on her phone, setting it on the table between them so he could see the message himself as she looked back up at him her eyes now dilated as well from the fact she was intrigued to see his reaction.

“But i don't know, maybe i do want to marry you, that'll for sure prove her wrong, don't you think sweetheart..” (y/n) said changing her tone to a somewhat submissive tone to tease him watching as he pupils grew darker with lust from just her simple change in the tone of her voice. “But let's not get ahead of ourselves sir, it is only a first date after all..” (y/n) added still in the submissive voice as she watched his grip on his cup tighten making a small chuckle come from her.

“Who knows maybe we will get married, seems like you need someone who will put you in your place.” Bucky stated as his voice had grown slightly more deep making (y/n) begin to breathe a little more heavily as she bit her lip, keeping her eyes locked on his as she listened to him. “Someone who will let you be you, but take care of you, make sure you're satisfied.” Bucky hummed out as he took a sip of his coffee, setting the cup down taking in the fact that (y/n) was biting her lip making him chuckle softly.

“But you’re right princess, this is only the first date..” Bucky stated as he showed her a small smirk looking her up and down one more time as he leaned back into his seat himself. “Just saying this could have been worse, much worse.”

Part 2 is here!

Anyways! Hope y’all enjoyed just wanted to write another story so I can show y’all some of my potential, still learning to write 7 years later!

Feel free to message me with requests or other suggestions I’m all ears.

Bye, until next time!

#marvel #marvel mcu #mcu x reader #mcu x you #my writing #james barnes #bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns x you #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barns fanfiction #winter solider fanfiction #winter solider imagine #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james barnes #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction

[hookhausenschips]

Prompt List

Here are the prompts, if you need an idea for a request!

Angst

(1) “All I’ve ever wanted is for you to see me.”

(2) "What is it about me that isn't good enough?"

(3) "Don't look at me like that." "Like what?" "Like you still love me."

(4) "I'm a fool for believing you meant what you said."

(5) "When did you stop loving me?"

(6) "Stop pretending that you care"

(7) "You deserve better"

(8) I don’t want to see you ever again”

(9) “Let me hold you for a bit longer”

(10) “No, don’t say that”

(11) “You promised, does that mean nothing to you?”

(12) “Don’t make this harder than it already is”

(13) “Don’t say goodbye, it only makes it worse”

(14) “I trusted you more than anyone else and you lied”

(15) “I’m done trying so hard for you to never even look in my direction”

(16) “You weaponised my kindness against me, and now you want to grovel for forgiveness?”

(17) “You know what? You can go shove that apology up your ass because I don’t want to hear any of it.”

(18) “So, what? This was all a game for you? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

(19) “Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t lie to me this whole fucking time, you fucking asshole!”

(20) “Are you crying because of them again?”

(21) “I gave you my all yet you couldn’t even give half of you to me.”

(22) "I won't let you humiliate me anymore."

(23) "The only thing I want back from this relationship is my sanity."

(24) "Cheating certainly wasn't the answer now was it?"

(25) "I would have done anything for you!"

(26) "Don't forget to pull the knife out of my back when you leave."

(27) “You've never looked at me like that before."

(28) "Please! Just give me one more chance."

(29) "I hope you find happiness, even if it's not with me."

(30) "I'll always be watching over you from a distance."

(31) "I don't think my heart can take watching you love someone else again."

(32) "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?"

Fluff

(33) "Keep smiling at me like that."

(34) "I'm not drunk enough for this."

(35) "Ihaven't seen (her/him/them) smile like that in ages."

(36) "You're everything I could've wanted and more."

(37) “That was kind of hot."

(38) "Home stopped being a place when you entered my life."

(39) "You come here often?" "Well considering I work here, yes."

(40)"You should probably go home." "But I'm already home."

(41) "Could you say that again?" "Were you not listening?" "No I was, I just like hearing your voice."

(42) "You make me feel at home"

(43) "Why are you wearing my sweater?" "Because it smells like you."

(44) "It's you, it always has been."

(45) “I always kiss you on the cheek, why are you blushing now?"

(46) “We always hold hands, why are you acting weird?"

(47) "I'm so sick of watching you throw away your happiness for people who don't treasure it! I love you!"

(48) "I think I'm falling in love with you."

(49) "I'm pretty certain that you are the only thing that fills my head these days."

(50) "Oh, that smile — please never stop smiling.”

(51) "Go with me?" "As long as you hold my hand."

(52) "Is there a reason you're blushing like that?"

(53) “Have you seen my hoodie?" "Nooo." "You're wearing it, aren't you?"

(54) "OH you're jealous!"

(55) "He's/She’s so pretty I think I'm gonna faint."

(56) "Are you flirting with me?" "You finally noticed?"

(57) "Am I your lockscreen?" "You weren't supposed to see that."

(58) "Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?"

(59) "You bought me flowers?" "Yeah, well I noticed you'd seemed kinda down, so I wanted to cheer you up."

(60) "Maybe if you stopped staring at them and actually talked to them, you might have a chance."

(61) "Why are you staring at me?" "Because I think you're beautiful."

(62) "The world gets a little brighter when you’re around."

(63) "They say we won't last." "Then lets prove them wrong."

(64) "You come here often?" "Well, I work here. So think I'd have to say 'yes'."

(65) "Aww, you're blushing. I like that look on you."

(66) softly smiling at each other from across the room

(67) reassuring touches

(68) leaning into the other person

(69) “ I was supposed to take a shower alone but sure, jump right in''

(70) catching each other undressing and very obviously checking each other's bodies out

(71) “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you, but that doesn’t mean I regret it one bit.”

(72) “Through both the good and the bad, I’ll always be here, by your side.”

(73) "I'm going outside to make out... care to join me?"

(74) "You can stay but your clothes must go."

(75) "S-Stop staring at me like that!"

(76) "I saw that. You just checked me out."

Smut

(77) Friends With Benefits

(78) squirting for the first time

(79) “I’m not sharing you with anybody. You’re mine, and mine only, and I’m going to make you remember that.”

(80) “Gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.”

(81) “My God, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this.”

(82) Soft whines and whimpers; held back noises because they don’t want anyone else hearing them; a plea for more without the use of words.

(83) “Oh, I can think of many ways to shut you up right now.”

(84) “Wanna hear you beg for it, yeah?”

(85) “Where do you want me to touch you?” “I don’t know and I don’t care — I just want your hands on me. Please.”

(86) “I wanna taste you on my lips again.”

(87) “Fuck, just touch me already! Just— just do something!” “Not so fast. We’ve still got the whole night/day ahead of us.”

(88) “Look at your reflection. Look at how gorgeous you are. So fucking gorgeous when I’m fucking you like this. So pretty for me, and only for me.”

(89) “You want to cum?” “Y-yes, I— please—” “Hm, but do you really deserve to?”

(90) “You look like a mess and I love it, because I’m the one who made you like this.”

(91) “Look at you, drooling over my thighs. You wanna ride them that bad?” “Y-yes please.”

(92) “Hands behind your back.”

(93) “You can take it, you’ve done it before.”

(94) “Come one more time for me, I know you’ve got it in you.”

(95) “It’s my thigh or nothing, I’m not helping you get off.”

(96) “ I don't bite, you know.. unless it's called for.”

(97) “WE SHOULD FUCK. like right now, right here. hard, fast. pin me down, kiss me hard, look me in the eyes and fuck me like you've never fucked someone before.”

(98) “your face would look better between my legs.”

(99) “excuse me for being too forward but your lips make me wonder what the rest of you would taste like.”

(100) “now spread your legs and try to tell me all about your day.”

(101) “now will you please sit on my face already?”

(102) “bite the pillow and ride it out, sweetheart."

(103) “quit whining. you'll get your turn.”

(104) “look at you, panting like a bitch in heat.”

(105) “babe, you need to stay hydrated if we're going to keep this fuck fest alive."

(106) “when i'm done with you, you won't even remember him/her.”

(107) "They always make shower sex sound so appealing, but honestly, this is getting dangerous."

(108) "Earn it!"

(109) "You're such a dirty girl/boy, of course this excites you."

(110) "Give me a show, babygirl/baby boy.”

(111) "You like it when we both fuck you at the same time, isn't that right, babygirl?"

(112) "You're so hot when you take charge."

(113) "You want me to record you?"

(114) "Have you always been this kinky?"

(115) "I found your dildo, you want to use it in front of me?”

(116) "Be careful, I don't want you to choke."

(117) "Fuck, I love it when you scream my name like that."

(118) "How do you feel about adding some toys to the mix of this?"

(119) "Would you want to make a private video for the two of us?"

(120) "Mmm that's right smile for the camera."

(121) "Put on a show for me."

(122) "Wow...you're easy to rile up."

(123) "Home is too far away. No one's going to see us here."

(124) "S-Stop staring at me like that!"

(125) "oh, look who's not wearing any underwear~"

(126) "Ah, ah. I didn't say you could touch me."

#aew #aew imagine #mha imagines #wwe imagine #smut #x black fem reader #x black plus size reader #x black reader #x reader #supernatural x reader #twd x reader #obey me #aew x reader #fem reader #x female y/n #x fem!reader #x female reader #gn reader #x male reader #aew fanfic #writing prompt #fic prompt #dialogue prompt #aew smut #x black!fem!reader #x black!reader

[iamknicole]

Gender Reveal

Morgan's backyard was decorated beautifully thanks to her, Chenice and their boyfriends. Haleigh loved the theme, it gave her a giggle honestly. Being surrounded by her friends and family almost made her forget that she was alone for this special moment for her baby. Although her loved ones told her often how she was never going to be alone and they would always be there, she wished her son or her daughter had Messiah. Kids needed their fathers, right? She know she needed hers. She had no idea where she would be without him.

Noticing their friend was off by herself, Chenice and Morgan swooped in, taking seats on either side of her. Chenice rubbed her stomach.

"You feel okay?" Morgan asked studying her face.

"Yeah I'm okay. Just wanted to get off my feet for a second." She laughed a little feeling the baby kick. "Nicey, I'm gonna get you back for every time you have gotten him or her hyper."

Chenice laughed pulling her hand away. "I can't help it that cutie loves their Auntie already!"

Haleigh squinted looking between her best friends and laughed. "Please tell me that's not why yall picked a cutie theme, Morgan."

Her friends laughed along with her.

"It was the only way I could get her to focus." Morgan explained through her laughter. "But it turned out cute. Mostly thanks to me."

"Hey! I helped, it was 50/50!"

Morgan stared. "You and Elijah wanted to string cuties up and hang them instead of the lights. Me and Luke had to talk yall out of it almost 10 times."

Chenice shrugged, "Yall are just haters. It would've been cute."

Morgan stared at her playfully. "Anyways. If you're over here thinking about that little ugly boy, don't. It's his loss, not yours."

"I know but the baby," she sighed. "Eventually they're gonna wonder why everybody else has a dad and they don't."

"And when he or she asks, call me and I'll tell them cause their sperm donor is a bitch." Chenice asserted with a shrug.

Morgan swatted her hand laughing. "You are not saying that."

"Why not?" She asked. "It ain't a lie."

Haleigh laughed listening to them go back and forth. Her friends knew her so well.

"Man bring your ass on." Woody fussed walking around the front of his SUV carrying his gift bag. "First, you tryna look better than me and then you tried to outdo my gift."

Ardian laughed, getting his gift basket from the backseat. After his conversation with Haleigh in the store, he spent another hour picking out things to put in the basket. He made sure he had things for mom and baby.

"All I got on is a shirt and jeans, man. And she'll appreciate both of our gifts," he laughed.

Woody stared at him. "Uhuh. Don't be tryna get with my sis either. She already mean enough, don't need your mean ass making her meaner."

Ardian laughed even louder following him through the gate to the backyard. There were more people than he thought would be in attendance but they were outside so it would be okay for him. Him and Woody put their gifts on the table then filled out the advice cards.

"Come on. I'll introduce you to my people." Woody said proudly. He led him over to two other men. "Aye yall this my boy, Ardian, that I be telling yall about. Ardian, this Luke and Elijah."

They slapped hands, getting one another.

"You the one he been trying to get to come out with us," Luke laughed. "Nice to finally meet you, man."

Elijah laughed. "Woody said he have to pull you out the house, man."

Ardian chuckled and shrugged. "Ima homebody. But he the same way, he hate spending money."

"So do you," Woody clapped back laughing.

"Either way, we appreciate you for coming out to celebrate our sister and her baby."

Ardian nodded looking around. "Of course, no problem."

"Alright, can we get everybody to come over! We're about to reveal the gender!" Chenice yelled excitedly.

Following Woody and the other guys, Ardian made his way over to the area. He looked around at all the women and big men surrounding the area, whistling softly.

Morgan helped Haleigh to the front of the crowd, both taking their spots with Chenice. She was holding back tears through Chenice's whole spill until Chenice passed her a large cutie replica balloon.

Ardian kept his eyes on her, a small smile on his face realizing she was the woman from the store. A coincidence that they had met and he ended up at her gender reveal.

After the crowd counted to three, Haleigh popped the balloon allowing blue confetti to rain down on her. Her family and friends roared with excitement of the new baby boy she would have. Ardian watched a big man go forth and pick her up in a hug. When he turned to the side, Ardian could see tears on his face. He whispered something to her before placing her back down.

"I'm proud of you, Princess. You got this, Daddy's always right beside you." Roman whispered then placed her back down.

Kandice hugged her next, kissing her face repeatedly. "We got us a baby boy, pretty girl."

After all of her family and friends congratulated her, Haleigh went to get cake with Morgan and Chenice and go to their own table. The three friends talked about potential names, themes for his room and more things they couldn't wait to buy him. Ardian, Elijah, Luke and Ardian approached their table, sitting down with their own cake.

"Aye, sis. This my boy Ardian," Woody announced squeezing his friend's shoulder. "Ardian, this our sister, Haleigh."

The two made eye contact then laughed.

"Nice to see you again, Haleigh."

Morgan squinted, looking between them. "Again?"

Haleigh looked over at her friend. "Remember the guy I told you helped me get my detergent down in the store? It was Ardian."

"Oooh this is the," Chenice stopped herself catching the look Haleigh and Morgan were giving her. "Thank you for helping my friend. She so hard headed and wouldn't wait for somebody to go with her."

He nodded, chuckling. "It's no problem, I didn't mind. Congrats on the boy, Haleigh."

"Thank you. Wait, was that my gift you were picking out?"

"Yeah it was. I had no idea at the time. This fool told me a baby shower, not a gender reveal." He laughed nudging Woody.

Woody put his hands up. "Aye. Either way it was a baby something. Don't be tryna bad mouth me in front of my people. That's strike 3 but ima give you another chance.

"What was strike 1 and 2?" Luke asked.

"First one was him tryna look better than me, nobody looks better than Woody," he said brushing himself off. "Second one was him tryna outdo my gift."

Chenice rolled her eyes. "Full of yourself. And what did you get her and the baby? Knowing your cheap self, it came from dollar tree."

Woody gasped holding his chest. "That was rude. I got them a nice gift. Got sis them ugg slides she like and I got my boy a nice lil Nike hoodie and sweats."

"And I bet it hurt your cheap ass heart to spend that much," Elijah joked, laughing loudly. "Ardian, what you got?"

Ardian shrugged, chewing up his cake. "A basket with baby stuff, snacks, face masks, teas that I heard were good for new moms, gift cards and some other stuff I don't remember right now."

Chenice and Morgan cooed.

"All stuff that she needs," Morgan smiled. "That was very thoughtful of you, Ardian."

After the party was cleaned up and guests started to leave, Haleigh snuck out to put some of the leftover gifts in her Jeep. She was attempting to be quiet so she wouldn't alert anyone and get fussed at. She attempted to pick up the box of diapers, groaning a bit.

"It was easier getting it out here." She huffed loudly.

Ardian chuckled under his breath watching her. "I don't think you're supposed to be doing that."

Haleigh jumped turning to face him. "I ... did they send you to spy on me?"

"No ma'am. I came out to put my to go plates in the the car," he said holding up his bag. "But now that I'm here, hold this. I'll put the rest of this stuff in for you."

Taking the bag, Haleigh stepped out of the way to let him do it. She knew it wasn't any use in arguing with him, especially not if she wanted to keep this between them. She watched him effortlessly load it all in.

"Sooo," Ardian drug out putting the last few items in, "Can I ask about his dad?"

"Not around."

"I'm sorry. Was it by choice or?" He asked leaning against the back of her now closed Jeep.

She nodded. "Yup. Told him I was pregnant and he told me that a baby was too serious for us. He suggested I get rid of my baby, told him I didn't want to and I woke up the next day and him and all his stuff was gone."

"That's fucked up. Yall were living together and he said a baby was too serious?" Ardian shook his head. "His loss. He's a coward."

She gave him a sad smile. "Yeah he is. We weren't living together but we would stay frequently at each other's places so."

"He's gonna regret that shit. But you got a real big support system behind you."

She laughed softly. "You mean good support system?"

He shook his head laughing. "No I meant big. You seen them men in ya family. They big like my dad. I know nobody fucks with them."

She laughed hard holding her belly. "I can't. We're laughing but it's true."

"Oh I know it is."

The two of them laughed a little longer before it slowly tapered off leaving them gazing at one another. Haleigh cleared her throat feeling kicks.

"He's kicking. Do you wanna feel?"

"Yeah, that'd be cool."

Haleigh took his hand placing it on her belly where her son was kicking. "Feel it? He's so hyper from the cake and juice. We'll probably be up all night."

Ardian smiled feeling the small but strong kicks. He wondered why any man would.leave his baby and mother of their child like that.

"I usually don't sleep too good at night," he shrugged, "If you want, we can exchange numbers and you can call if you two can't sleep."

Smiling, Haleigh looked from her belly to his face. She knew she probably shouldn't but he seemed nice and Woody liked him.

"Yeah I think that would be okay."

Roman, Jey and Jimmy stood at the front window of Morgan's house, staring through the blinds at the two. The two of them were close enough that they could hear the conversation.

"I can't lie, that was smooth," Jimmy complemented. "I like him."

Jey sucked his teeth. "You don't know shit about being smooth. Where he come from anyway? Never seen him before."

Roman kept his eyes on his daughter. "I don't know but I'm gonna find out. Big mouth ... I mean Chenice will tell me."

#family ties au #Ardian & Haleigh #pregnant single mom au #pregnant single mama au

[mrs-johansson]

Strangers in the night - Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Part 4:

On my way to the restaurant I had the chills, not gonna lie. I've met the woman once, she seemed so beyond reach and someone who was just grabbed out of a book and was put into this world. I didn't know what to expect. I sure was hoping it wouldn't be an awkward time and it's gonna be an easygoing evening.

I looked at the time, 6:50, just perfect. I got out of the cab after paying the driver and walked up to the entrance of the cozy looking, but still fancy restaurant. "Hi, I'm here for reservation, under the name Johansson if I'm right," I smiled at the young man at the front. He greeted me politely before running his eyes through the list of reservations. "That's right. Ms. Johansson is already here. Let me show you to the table." He said and I thanked him before following him.

The place was lit up just stunningly. It was dressed up still as if it was just Christmas Eve, which made my heart very happy. Candles were everywhere and I was just in awe of the site. I think Jazz that was playing in the background, people chatting softly.

Passing by the table, my nerves grew bigger and I felt more anxious. I knew I had nothing to worry about but still, getting to know people isn't my comfort zone.

Looking for the blonde through the different kinds of people, just in a few seconds I spotted Scarlett, patiently waiting, typing away on her phone. "Here we are, I'll be back with the menus," the waiter sent a smile my way and I thanked him before he left.

"Hey," Scarlett's raspy voice made me look at her once again. Smile on her face, her posture straightened out since the last time I looked at her, no phone in her hands. "Hi, thank you for the invite. Such a gorgeous place," I took my jacket off as I also took my place across from her. "It is. You look splendid by the way," I glanced at her for a second before getting busy with putting my bag away, but then I forced myself to look back at the woman. "Thank you. You look amazing as well." "Thank you," her cheeks got round, a smile pulling on her lips. "Before I forget," I reached into my bag and pulled out the necklace box that I put the necklace in so it wouldn't get damaged. "Here you go," I handed it to Scarlett and she gladly took it. "Thank you. I was in full panic mode when I couldn't find it." She took out the thin golden chain and put it on. "Rose is your daughter, right?" "She is. I got this from my mother when she was born," she smiled softly, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. "How old is she now?" "She's 3. A very uhm... girly girl. She's all about dressing up and doing big girl things as she calls it," her words made my heart melt. "Must be a dream." "She is, couldn't wish for better."

Her eyes were sparkly as she talked about her daughter. It was adorable to see how she feels about the little girl, honestly it made my heart swell.

The waiter came up and we gave him our drink orders, Scarlett insisted on the wine of the house. I won't complain about wine, let's say that.

"Do you want kids?" She asked, as she sipped the freshly poured white wine. I took a deep breath in and hummed. "That didn't sound convincing," she chuckled and so did I. Looking down in my lap I smiled nervously. "I do, but I don't know when. You know work is a lot, I'm sure you can relate. But uhm... my mom is very much on me about... settling down and having a family." "Don't you have an older sister?" She frowned and I nodded. My jacket sleeve seemed to be so interesting, since I've been fidgeting with it for quite some time now. "She's a lawyer. Following our parents' footsteps, mommy's little girl since day one. Léa is the overachiever of the family, the perfectionist. Mom always says she works too much to have a family." I glanced up at her and she was listening carefully. "What about your dad?" I smiled at the thought of him, I kinda miss him not gonna lie. "He's the best. My biggest supporter since I was a kid. Always encouraged me to do what I love." I said and straightened up as I saw the waiter nearing our table.

"Does this create tension between you and your sister?" Scarlett raised an eyebrow as she sipped her drink. "Uhm... sometimes, but we usually get along. She understands my situation and you know... respect what I do. She's a big supporter too. It's my mom mainly, who thinks it's a hobby which is funny considering I work 12+ hours and stuff." "Oh wow. That's... sad. Does she not see what you've achieved so far?" I shrugged and took my glass. "Honestly, I don't care what she thinks. I do this for myself and I enjoy it." I saw a smile pulling on her lips as I glanced at her.

Mom has always been a distant person. She's a mystery to me till this day and I guess always will be. It's so clear to see that she loves Léa much more. If I didn't have dad by my side then it would bother me for sure, but like this... I guess I just can't sense her distance that much.

"What about your parents? Did they approve of the movie star thing right away?" I smirked at the use of words as she clearly was a star.

Scarlett chuckled which was probably one of the most attractive things I've seen before. She just looked so captivating in this light and ash she sat there, her mouth moving but I didn't hear a word at the moment.

"So they just went with the flow. My mom was my manager for a while actually." "Oh that must've been nice. I feel like Chris was my manager for a while or more like a security guard now that I think about it," I frowned. Scarlett found my joke amusing as she threw her head back after the sentence.

"Gosh, why haven't we met already. Evans was always hiding you for so long." She sighed. "It's weird that we've never bumped into each other," I furrowed my eyebrows and tilted my head slightly. "It is. Chris and I have known each other for over a decade and you two seem to be hanging out all the time." "Yeah, I think he was actually hiding me. I haven't met most of his you know... Marvel friends actually. Only the ones I've worked with. Maybe he's embarrassed," I chuckled and sipped my wine, which was very delicious by the way.

"Of you? Oh don't be silly. I would show you off, in a respectful way of course. He's probably scared that you'll take the spotlight off of him." Show me off, huh?

"As he should."

Soon we got our food and we just had the easiest flowing conversation throughout the whole dinner. Scarlett was lovely. She is a very entertaining and interesting person and a very clever and intelligent woman. We had such deep conversations even though we just met. We talked about politics, our families and such. She has a very riveting view on things and I love that.

I got lost a couple times as I was just watching her while she was deep in a topic. She gestured with her hands all the time, sometimes her hair would fall into her face and she'd brush it back with her finger. She was indeed a very attractive woman, no denial.

"I heard Evans got a thing for your sister," Scarlett mentioned and I looked at her quickly. "He only told you now?" I was honestly surprised that she didn't know about it. "Isn't it a new thing?" She asked with an eyebrow raise. I leaned back in my seat and chuckled. "Oh that story is probably older than me." Scarlett shrugged at my words. "That's not a difficult challenge." She said with a slight smirk. I gasped playfully, leaning forwards. "Oh come on, I'm not that young. How much older are you, like 5 years? Can't be that big of a difference." I said. Her hand flew up to her heart. "I'm flattered. But uhm, I'm 33." She said and I shrugged. "See, that's like... 21." I smiled and she gave me a playfully eyeroll. "So you say it's quite an old story?" She looked at me and smirked before smiling fully. I cleared my throat and crossed my legs, trying to get a bit more comfortable. "Yeah, it really goes back. Probably teenage years." I said. "Oh gosh, I should've known then." "Chris is very bad at hiding his feelings, so I'm very surprised he kept his mouth this time." I smirked knowing how bad he is with these stuff. "That I know. But they are going out then?" "Well, Scott and I gave them a couples holiday for Christmas so they are forced to spend time with each other. I really hope they cut the crap and get together. It honestly hurts me physically to see them cringe around each other." I rolled my eyes with a sigh. "So determined about them." "I just want them to be happy. I love them both very much and they deserve each other." I said. "Do your parents approve of Evans?" That smirk thing again gosh. "Oh they love him. You know he's Mr. Perfect." I shrugged. "Ooh the pressure's on." She said playfully and I nodded. "Yup. They are waiting for my pretty perfect family." I looked away, looking at the paintings on the walls. They were so perfectly done. Even from afar, I could see the delicate brush strokes. It was a picture of a little chalet. Looked like a moment from a storybook. Felt so peaceful.

My eyes wandered back to Scarlett who was already looking at me with a small smile tugging on her lips. Heat rose on my face and I must've blushed under her gaze. "Sorry, I tend to get lost in art." I admitted shyly and sipped my drink. "Funny, me too." She said quite flirtatiously. From that look in her eyes, I got chills. Those twinkles that appeared so frequently in the time we've been here and that little cheekiness every time she said something questionable. She made me feel so comfortable.

Then I heard a way too familiar voice coming from the speakers. My face must have spoken way too loudly, because Scarlett gave me such a questioning but sweet look. "It's just Frank Sinatra..." I shrugged it off but deep down my heart was swollen from happiness. I love him, give me a break. "You like him?" She asked. "I don't think anyone has a better voice than that man." I said honestly. "He was probably the reason why I bumped into you the other night. I remember I heard him playing and I got distracted." Her fingers wrapped around the wine glass and lifted it to her mouth, taking a sip and putting it back down on the table. So simple movements but still looked so mesmerizing. "Also you were staring at your phone." She said cockily. "Yeah that too. But you weren't, were you?" I tilted my head with a witty smile. "No, I wasn't." She clearly had to see me coming if she wasn't occupied with her phone. "Interesting."

"How were the Holidays? Did you get to celebrate?" I asked, sipping my drink. "It was great. I was here in New York with my family and Rose, so it was nice. It tends to get difficult when I'm in another country away from everyone." Ah yeah her ex is French or something. "How's yours?" She asked. Her voice is just so attractive, man this is gonna be a problem. "It was brilliant. I don't get to spend much time in Boston with all my family there, so it was nice. My Turkey was a killer and everything was great." "You made the turkey?" She raised a single eyebrow. "I've been doing the Turkey every Thanksgiving since I was 18. And it just gets better every year I think. It's my pride and joy, not gonna lie." I said and she chuckled. That damn low voice is just... ugh.

"I didn't take you as a cooker type," she took a bite of her food and I could see the cheeky smirk forming on her lips. "No?" "I heard you're a painter so I was assuming you're either good at cooking or painting." "Makes sense, but I'm a really good cook. Ask Chris, whenever he's in New York he comes by to have a nice home cooked dinner." "Good to know." "How about you? Love cooking?" I rested my left arm against the edge of the table as I ate with the other. "I do love it. I made the Turkey this year too, it was  stressful but it turned out nice." "Gravy and all?" "Yeah... I was a mess." I chuckled at her honesty. "I can relate."

"So painting, has it always been around?" She asked, before taking a bite of her food. "Yeah. It's just so relaxing to me. Always been an escape from the everyday rush. And even when I have some free time while working, I could do something small or do sketches. Helps me with anxiety." "That's nice to hear." She smiled sweetly, the look in her green eyes made me a little shy as her gaze didn't not move from me. "Saw the charity you did, that was a very generous gift. I've been working with Time's Up for some time now and I can assure you they appreciated that very much." Scarlett mentioned and pride filled my heart. "I love doing things like this. I did my best to bring the most out of it and something like art is definitely something people won't forget about. Although I usually do these kind of things quietly, away from the public, this was something I wanted people to hear about because this is very impressive for me. Helping others is important." "I definitely agree."

"So Chris didn't even mention me? Not once?" "Oh he did, quite often." She smiled. "Did he now?" I asked with a little chuckle. "He speaks very highly of you. He's very proud, you know. Always gushing about you, and that you have such a big heart. He sees you like a little sister." She said with a smile, making me slightly blush over the words. "Aw he's such a big softie. Chris was by my side in the beginning of everything really... He made sure no one takes advantage of my young mind." I explained, remembering all the memories with him from years ago. "He said you have paint brushes all over your hands all the time. I see none so I'm guessing he was lying," her voice turned into a whisper to the end of the sentence making it sound so sensual. "Ah, he's such a jerk. I do not have them, it was one time because I was in a rush. Ugh, he's full of shit."

"I just saw Ghost in the Shell the other day, it's really your thing, huh? Kicking other people's ass." I said with a small smirk, trying to hide my face a little with the wine glass as I took a sip. A shy chuckle left her mouth and looked down at her plate. "I mean yeah, it's just really fun to do. Did you like it?" She asked. "Oh yeah, it was brilliant. Maybe I got a bit teary eyed at the end but otherwise it was really fun." Oh and also you looked hot af but whatever. "Thanks really. Actually I watched Lady Bird with my friends a couple weeks ago. I'm not surprised it has the Oscar buzz around it. You're amazing." She said, looking deep into my goddamn soul. I probably blushed too so I just smiled and looked away. "Thank you, it means a lot."

Soon we finished our meals and the waiter came up with the check as Scarlett asked. Of course she insisted on paying, but I still tried. She got her card back and we gathered our things before making our way out. "Thank you for the invite once again." I said as I walked next to her, passing different people at their tables. "Thank you for coming, I've had a really great time." She said with that smirking, smiling thing that I'm already obsessed with. "Me too." I shyly smiled at her. Before we reached the door I stopped in my tracks, something crazy came over me. "I'm hosting a dinner party for New Year's Eve, it's just a couple of my friends and me. Chris and Scott will be there too. Maybe you'd like to come? If you don't have anything planned of course." Why am I like this? Why would she say yes, we literally saw each other for the second time. "Really?" She perked an eyebrow with a small curve on her lips. "Yeah... It should be fun, nothing big. It's kid friendly if you'd want to bring Rose." I added and she smiled. "Alright, I'll be there." She nodded. Her hand reached for the door handle and opened it, motioning for me to go ahead. "Thank you." I stepped out to the street and flashes attacked us like there was anything interesting. Our names were shouted at us from every direction, and our cars were the opposite directions, so Scarlett moved to my side in a quick second. Suddenly her arms were wrapped around my waist, if I didn't have any experience in acting my eyes would be wide as fuck. My arm snuck around her shoulder and we shared a quick but warm hug. "See you soon."

#gxg #scarlett johansson imagines #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson #chris evans

[last-flight-of-fancy]

Backstory exploration time for WoL~

WoL: Hallima, he/they Au Ra

Timeline: Heavensward up to Dark Knight Level 50 (Wages of Mercy)

Hallima thought he was some sort of mutation his whole life. There might be some trauma around that.

Hallima was an orphan.

Well, he is an orphan. It's not like this fact has changed- he may have gained some troublesome pseudo-siblings recently, but the fact remains that Hallima spent a great deal of his life until recently hopping from town to town taking odd jobs from whoever would hire him to get by.

He considers himself lucky, in a way. He's hardier than the average eorzean, covered in scales and thick skin, and most illnesses seem to pass him by. It offered him advantages most wandering urchin's simply don't have. That said however, he is not immune to things like exhaustion and hunger, and it was not without the ocassional helping hand that he had made it to adulthood.

He considers himself lucky to have made it to adulthood at all.

People rarely ask him about his past, a fact he is quietly grateful for. The calamity had rendered so many with lost loved ones that it has become considered somewhat gouche to ask after such things unless needed. Perhaps that's why it surprised him so much when Alphinaud- prim, proper, polite, Alphinaud- had done exactly that late one night as they rested in the Fortemps residence.

"Does anyone worry for you?" He asks, laying on his back in his cot and staring at the darkned ceilings. Hallima looks up from the weapon he's doing some maintenance on, lit by only a dim candle on a nearby table.

"Why?" A practiced evasion, though it feels somewhat wrong to use on Alphinaud in particular. To say he's come to care about the kid would be something of an understatement.

"Ah, that was rude, wasn't it? I'm sorry. I just... started thinking about Alisaie and wondering what she's doing... if the Crystal Braves had targeted her too..."

Hallima hums softly to indicate he's listening. A thought spiral, common to these sorts of late hours, and considering everything that has happened... He gets it.

"Then I wondered if she worries for us in turn... And then I realised how silly that was. She sent the carraige for us, of course she worries. Not that she would admit it, mind."

That tracks from what Hallima has seen of the girl. Stubborn and independant, but fiercly loyal besides. He's met the type before.

"Anyroad, the thought crossed my mind and it left my mouth before I could consider it. Forgive me."

"It's fine." The darkness within writhes at the lie, but is mollified with a glance towards Alphinaud's contrition, mixed with his own fear and anxiety hidden just beneath the surface. "... No. No one worries for me."

"I see." Alphinaud sits up then, and the candlelight makes the bags under his eyes all the more distinct, but it does not lessen the earnestness of his gaze. "Well. You may increase that number by at least one."

Hallima doesn't really know how to react in the face of Alphinaud's sincerity, so he gives a generic smile and a thank you before encouraging the boy to try and sleep once more. It's only after Alphinaud's breathing slows into a steady snore that Hallima smothers the candle with a bare hand and lets the mask drop.

-

Hallima grew up thinking he was some form of monster with ideas above its station. Or perhaps a Mi'quote who's fur turned hard and rough instead of soft and downy. Or any number of things that might occur to a child who has never met anyone quite like them. By the time he hit adulthood, Hallima thought that he had come to terms with the reality that he would probably never know.

And then he'd met Yugiri, who kept her face covered at all times, but there was no mistaking the rough texture of her tail or the shape of things beneath her hood which are too stiff and improperly placed to be even the strangest of mi'quote ears.

Hallima had not asked.

She had stared at him, long and hard, and in the end she hadn't asked either.

(or maybe she had, in her own surreptious way. She was an expert ninja and infiltrator after all)

Why hadn't Hallima asked, despite his suspicions? He's still not sure.

He can imagine the scoffing his companions would give if he told them it was fear.

He has no other words for it, though.

-

Hallima looks into Fray's face- their face- and feels at once rage and grief. His face, their face, and one both familiar and not. It tugs at memories long buried, and Hallima doesn't want them.

Reality has never cared much for such things, however.

Fray- or rather, Esteem- falls defeated, and two become one once more.

-

Hallima's earliest memories are of horrible, biting cold and numb fingers that he cannot bend.

-

There's no time for that, not with the war between Ishgard and the Dragons looming ever present.

-

Midgardsormer had called them kin.

-

Meeting Sidurgu was like looking into an inverted mirror, and after their experiance with Esteem there is an undeniable moment where Hallima is sure that their other has somehow made their own form somehow.

This is not the case.

Sidurgu asks their help with Rielle -the girl soft and familiar in ways that Hallima can't quite pinpoint- and they quickly agree. They see the bond between the two easily, one simultaneously fireforged and silk-web delicate, and want to protect it.

(They do not say this. Sidurgu would probably hate the sentiment. but still the sentiment remains).

But then Sidurgu tells them of his people's arrival in Ishgard, fleeing the Empire and seeking refuge, only to be cut down by fearful Ishgardians who assumed them in league with the dragons.

"Everyone." Sidurgu stresses. "Man, woman, child. None escaped the slaughter."

Hallima's earliest memories are of freezing cold, staggering through snow drifts and desperately alone.

They do not ask.

#was gonna do more wrt like. family stuff cause the dark knight questline got me FEELIN things #but the write juice dried up so have this rambling backstory exploration disguised as minific #fanfic #ff14 #ff14 dark knight #ff14 dark knight spoilers #ff14 heavensward #flight's making things again #also boy howdy i do not remember timeline details anymore dsjkfjkk #being deliberately vague ftw

[allthingsfangirl101]

Top Gun - Baby Mav Chapter 15: Bad News Never Ends

Masterlist

Maddlyn woke up, her entire body sore. She rolled her head to the side, her breath getting caught in her throat when she saw Rooster asleep next to her. She closed her eyes and focused on the sound of his breathing.

Rooster woke up first the next time. He looked down, instantly seeing Maddlyn in his arms. He couldn't help but think about how many nights he wished he had her right where she was - safely in his arms. He leaned down and gently kissed the top of her head. He smiled when she stirred.

Maddlyn slowly woke up and looked up to see Rooster staring at her. "Hi," she said softly.

"Hey," Rooster chuckled. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have since before. . ." Maddlyn couldn't finish her sentence. Rooster didn't need her to. He knew what she was trying to say.

"That's good," he said softly as he reached up and moved her hair out of her face. Maddy smiled and rested her head back on Rooster's shoulder.

"You don't have to stay here," she said gently. "I know you have training later today and. . ."

"It's canceled."

"It's what?"

"After your accident, Mav canceled training."

"He did. . . Rooster, the flight is in less than two weeks. You can't take time off. You all need to be training and preparing for it. If this goes wrong. . ."

"Mads," he soothed her, "it's okay. We'll be fine."

"But. . ."

"We'll be fine," he annunciated. "Speaking of we."

Maddlyn looked over and saw all the other trainees standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Maddy," they all said in sync.

"Hi, guys," Maddlyn chuckled as she glanced at Rooster. They looked back to see the others still standing awkwardly in the hallway.

"You guys can come in," Rooster smirked. He sat in the chair next to her bed, never letting go of her hand.

"How are you feeling?" Payback asked gently.

"I'm okay," Maddlyn shrugged. Payback and Rooster shared a look that Maddlyn instantly caught. "Don't do that."

"Don't do what?" They asked in sync.

"Don't talk in sync," she chuckled. "It's weird. And don't do that whole "secret look" thing. You're not even good at being subtle."

"We're not being. . ." The boys stopped talking when Maddlyn glared at them.

"Look," Maddlyn sighed, "I know this is different. But the easiest way for me to go back to normal is if everyone else does too. So please. . . Help me make this easier."

Rooster tightened his hand around her's when her voice broke.

"We're sorry, Maddy," Phoenix said. "We'll be better. I promise."

"Thank you," Maddlyn said, clearing her throat. "Maybe start by relaxing?"

The group laughed, the tension finally lifting as everyone relaxed. They started talking about the flight and the issues they were having with the turns.

"You slow down, but only a tenth of a knot," Maddlyn explained. "Anything slower and you'll never make that incline. And don't forget to breathe. The incline is going to feel like at least 50 pounds being pressed down on your chest. Breathe slow and steady."

"That's why you're the best," Rooster chuckled. The boys started making kissing noises, making both Maddlyn and Rooster blush. Phoenix walked behind each of the boys, slapping the back of their heads.

"Leave them alone," she chastised. "They're happier and, frankly, I was getting tired of listening to Rooster bitch and complain about how he let his best friend get away."

"Can we please talk about Maverick now?" The group froze at Fanboy's impatient question.

"Fanboy," Phoenix scolded.

"What about him?" Maddlyn asked.

"Nothing," Payback and Phoenix said at the same time.

Maddlyn looked toward Rooster, her heart flipping when he looked away from her. "Rooster?"

"Mads," he started but struggled to finish.

"What's going on with my dad?" She asked him.

Rooster sighed, building up the courage to tell her the truth. "It's just a rumor. . ." He started.

"Not really a rumor," Fanboy mumbled.

"Yes, it is," Payback and Phoenix said quickly.

"Will someone please tell me what's going on with my dad?"

Rooster looked at the others before scooting his chair closer to her bed. He took both her hands in his as he built up his courage. "Mads," he started slowly, "the admirals have influenced your dad to retire."

"They what?!" Maddlyn yelled. She sat up, but the pain shot up her spine, making her call out in pain. Rooster instantly jumped up and grabbed Maddlyn. He slowly laid her back down as Phoenix ran to get a doctor.

"They're forcing him," Maddlyn was mumbling. "They aren't giving him a choice. It's just like with me. They forced me to stay. Now they're forcing him to leave."

Rooster tried to soothe her but she was spiraling. He glanced at the others, making eye contact with Bob.

"Go get him," he whispered. The group ran out of the room as he laid down next to Maddlyn. He ran his fingers through her hair and focused on her sobs. A few minutes later, he heard someone running down the hall.

"Maddlyn," Maverick said out of breath. Rooster got off the bed and let the two talk in private.

"How could you not tell me they were forcing you to retire?" Maddlyn instantly asked after Maverick helped her sit up.

"They're not forcing me," Maverick tried to make this conversation easier. It was useless.

"They're forcing you," Maddlyn said under her breath. "I still don't understand why you didn't tell me." She looked up at her father and could see the guilt weighing him down.

"Because of Rooster."

"What?" She started to panic.

"And you," Maverick continued quickly. "I was on my way to tell you and I heard you and Rooster talking. I was in the hallway when Rooster kissed you. I heard you guys admit your feelings for each other. I didn't want to ruin that wonderful moment."

"But it's your career," Maddlyn mumbled. "You love flying."

"True," Maverick chuckled as he reached over and moved some hair out of her face. "But I love my daughter more."

Maverick wrapped his arms around her as he sat on the edge of her bed. "I'm sorry, Dad," she whispered. "It's all my fault, isn't it?"

"No," he tried to reassure her.

"Dad," she sighed as she pulled out of the hug. "Please don't lie to me. They are forcing you to retire and are using me as an excuse. Probably said something about how retiring allows you to spend more time taking care of me."

"They may have mentioned it," Maverick smiled gently.

They sat in silence as Maddlyn tried to swallow the guilt that was rising inside her. She wanted to believe her father when he said he didn't mind being forced into retirement, but she knew how much he loved his career.

"I'm so sorry, Daddy," she whispered, her voice breaking. Maverick leaned in and kissed the top of her head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he said gently. "Me retiring is not a bad thing. I can spend that time taking care of you and helping you get used to your new life."

* * * * *

Maddlyn and Rooster were eating lunch a couple of days later. Things were finally starting to settle down for her. She was beginning to come to terms with her new life.

Which is why Maverick didn't want to tell her his news. It seemed like things kept getting worse.

"Dad?"

Maverick looked up to see Maddlyn and Rooster watching him. "Hey, you two," he chuckled. He cleared his throat when he remembered the news.

"Is everything okay?" Maddlyn asked, catching onto her father's hesitation.

"Maddy," he sighed as he walked in and sat next to her bed. "There's something I need to tell you, sweetheart."

"What is it?" She asked as she subconsciously tightened her grip on Rooster's hand. Maverick wasn't sure how to say this so he forced it out.

"Sweetheart," he said slowly, "I got a call this morning. Ice passed away last night."

Maddlyn's whole body froze. Her breath got caught in her throat and she struggled to make sense of the new news. Rooster's heart dropped into his stomach as he watched Maddlyn have a little physical response. He tightened his grip on her hand, wanting nothing more than to be there for her.

"Maddy?" Maverick whispered.

"He's. . . He can't be. . ." She stuttered.

"He is, pumpkin," Maverick sighed.

She looked up at her father and held out her free hand. He took it, his throat feeling like it was closing.

"I'm so sorry, Dad," she said softly. She pulled him out of his seat and let go of Rooster's hand. Maverick sat on the edge of her bed and wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry," Maddlyn repeated.

"Me too."

* * * * *

"You nervous?" Maverick asked as he wheeled his daughter through the cemetery.

"I don't understand why they want me to speak," she mumbled.

"Ice wanted it," Maverick explained to her again. "He had his funeral planned for a long time. One of his requests was to have you speak at it."

"It doesn't make sense," she said, still speaking softly. "Why me?"

Maverick stopped her wheelchair, walked around her, and knelt in front of her. "Because he loved you as if you were his own daughter," he whispered. "He wanted you to talk about his and your relationship."

He paused before adding, "He wanted you to talk about how he helped you through the program and how he impacted your life. He wanted you to do this for me, pumpkin."

He waited a minute before kissing her forehead. He then got back behind her and pushed her to Ice's funeral. Throughout the program, Maddlyn was battling her mourning over Ice's death and her anxiety about having to speak.

"And up next, Lieutenant Maddlyn Mitchell will say a few words."

Maddlyn took a few shaky breaths before starting to move. Maverick offered to wheel her up but she said she could do it. She rolled towards the mic, struggling to turn around.

"Sorry," she cringed when her chair hit the microphone stand. "Still getting used to these new wheels."

The crowd let out gentle laughs. Maddlyn cleared her throat as she glanced at the mourners, her eyes landing on her father.

"Despite what Ice would've wanted you to believe because he constantly tried to convince me," she started her speech, "he and my father did not get off to the best start. I have the honor of being Captain Pete Mitchell's daughter, which means, I know everything that went down when my dad was in the program. That also means that I had a lot to live up to. On my first day in the program, Ice called me into his office. He gave me what I can only refer to as a "fatherly talk". He wanted to make sure that I knew he was there for me. He wanted to make sure that I knew if I needed anything, I could come talk to him. I told him I would be fine, that I could handle anything that happened."

Maddlyn stopped, swallowing the lump in her throat as she looked between Maverick and Rooster.

"I was wrong," she slowly continued. "I thought I could handle it, but things got tough. I was the first female pilot that made it into the program and the other pilots were not happy. They didn't trust me. They didn't want to fly with me. They didn't want me there. I could've told Ice. Or my father. But I didn't. Instead, I kept my head down and worked through my training. But, because Ice knew everything. . ."

She paused when the crowd laughed. She felt her heartbeat relax as she continued, "He figured out very soon that something was going on. He brought me into his office and asked me about it. But, because I'm me, I lied and told him I was fine. He let it go for the time being. About a week later some events occurred and I couldn't take it anymore. I stormed into Ice's office and gave him my wings."

"Did you know that?" Rooster leaned over and asked Maverick.

"No," he said slowly. "I didn't know."

"He didn't accept them," Maddlyn continued. "Instead, he had me sit down and told me that he knew. He knew something was going on and wanted me to open up about it. I kept telling him that I was fine, but he did the only thing that could get any of us out of bed- he threatened to call my dad."

Maddlyn set Maverick a smile as the crowd laughed. Her smile faltered. "When I finally opened up to him," she started talking again, "all I said was that I couldn't do it anymore and that I wasn't good enough. He tried to reassure me that I made it into this program for a reason and I was right where I belonged. I started to leave but he blurted out that he knew. Ice had eyes and ears everywhere, so I shouldn't have been surprised that he knew what was happening. I expected him to get angry and threaten to fire the other pilots. Instead, he smiled at me."

Maddlyn's voice got caught in her throat. She looked down at her hands, struggling to hide her tears. She cleared her throat but it barely helped.

"He told me that he'd always protect me, but I needed to understand that I didn't need to be protected. He knew I could handle those boys on my own, but he had a little something to help remind me of that."

Maddlyn reached under the podium and pulled out her old helmet, the one she hadn't used since the 18-20 flight. She looked over at her dad to see him smiling at her.

"Now, for you to understand the call-sign," Maddlyn explained, "you need to understand what it was. When I got accepted, Ice and my father planned to give me the call sign of Mav Jr. When I got to the program, the guys gave me a different one, Baby Girl. Wanting to start over but wanting to mess with the guys, I combined the two."

Maddlyn turned the helmet around and showed the crowd her call sign. Maverick smiled when he saw the font similar to the one on his helmet, but this one read, "Baby Mav".

"Ice had the Mav Jr. helmet ready. I asked him to make me this one. I wanted a reminder that I could take whatever they threw and me and improve upon it. It wasn't easy, but I got through it with the help of my father and Ice. After the 18-20 flight, Ice was one of the first to see me. He didn't pressure me to go on medical leave or to retire. Instead, he told me he supported me no matter what I decided. And after my recent accident. . ."

She cleared her throat as she subconsciously rubbed her legs. "Ice came into my hospital room and reassured me that I'd get used to the wheels. He told me that if he could get used to them, I definitely could."

Maddlyn took a shaky breath, a rush of memories hitting her. "Ice was like a second father to me. I wouldn't be here without him. I wouldn't have survived the program. I wouldn't have survived the 18-20 flight. And I wouldn't have survived my recent accident. He was a great leader, a great friend, a great godfather. And just an incredibly great man. He will be missed."

#Baby Mav #Top Gun #Maverick #Rooster #orignal content #Baby Mav Top Gun

[pennywaltzy]

50 Things He Loves About Her (1/1)

So I'm transferring over two related series to AO3 that I wrote with a friend of mine on LJ, iluvroadrunner6, and they have a bunch of OCs. The very first story in the series at AO3 is the character bios, so if you want to read up on Christina Jensen, just click the link.

50 Things He Loves About Her - 50 things that Danny Messer loves about Christina Jensen.

READ @ AO3 | SERIES PAGE | OC CHARACTER BIOS

#01 - Ring

He'd look at her glance at the engagement ring every so often, and a look of awe would cover her face for just a second until someone pulled her attention away; he still reveled in the fact she'd said yes.

#02 - Hero

She'd stared him in the face, eye to eye, and simply said, "You know, people do look up to you, Danny, whether you want them to or not...you're a cop, which in most people's eyes makes you a hero."

#03 - Memory

He loved to hear her tell him about her childhood in California; Christina was great at making him feel like he was there watching the memories she had through her eyes.

#04 - Box

"I remember my favorite toy when I was a kid was this big huge box our new refrigerator came in...I think I used it to make a castle or something, but it only lasted a day or two because it got wet when it rained," she'd told them as they laid in bed together listening to the rain hit the windows.

#05 - Run

"Crap, I can't wear these; there's a run in them," she said, pulling off her pantyhose and allowing him to get a glimpse of her nicely shaped legs as she reached into her locker for another pair before she headed off to court.

#06 - Hurricane

"You're right; my office does always looks like it got hit by a hurricane," she said before they started organizing her guest bedroom/office, a task he hadn't wanted to help with but in the end was glad he did.

#07 - Wings

He'd asked her why she had a pair of cheap angel wings from a Halloween costume in her apartment one time and she'd just shrugged, saying everyone wants to be a little angel sometimes.

#08 - Cold

The ice cube was so cold it stung at first, but she didn't let it go and just moved it on his bare chest in lazy circles until he realized he didn't mind the cold so much anymore.

#09 - Red

Even though he liked her as a brunette, he missed the red hair she used to have, so dark it looked like black cherries; he was tempted to pick up a box of hair color and surprise her with it if he didn't think she'd make him use it first.

#10 - Drink

He knew, as he carried her up the stairs to her apartment, that he was never going to let her drink tequila again unless he was with her because if it knocked her flat on her ass like it had tonight she could end up doing something very stupid.

#11 - Midnight

At midnight exactly, she leaned over and kissed him softly, murmuring "Happy New Year" before rolling over and going to sleep; the next morning, she acted as though it had never happened and he pretended he hadn't been awake for it.

#12 - Temptation

"You know, I really don't care if you look, but don't even think about touching," she whispered to him as the new female tech Flack and Hawkes had been drooling over walked by him, and he had to smile; this new woman wasn't at all like the woman who'd just called him out, which meant she really wasn't his type.

#13 - View

"Would you just look at that?" she said, looking over the railing of the Empire State Building, watching the sun dip below the horizon, a look of childish wonder all over her face.

#14 - Music

He watched her smoothly glide from one track to the other without missing a beat, knowing full well it took her two days to get that perfected at home before this gig.

#15 - Silk

He ran his hand up and down her waist, enjoying the feel of the silk nightgown beneath his fingers; he could definitely appreciate good lingerie on this particular woman.

#16 - Cover

When he saw two blankets on the bed, he realized she had not been joking with him when she'd told him that morning he stole all the covers and she'd woken up freezing in the middle of the night, and he wondered why none of his other girlfriends had ever just added another blanket to the bed.

#17 - Promise

She crossed her heart and looked at him, and he knew she wouldn't break this promise she'd just made even if she had found a rather juvenile way of showing him how serious she was about it.

#18 - Dream

He never felt silly or stupid if he told her about his dreams, his nightmares; that might have something to do with the fact she opened up to him in much the same way.

#19 - Candle

She lit the last candle and smiled over at him, and he was surprised to find that she looked really nice in just candlelight...leave it to a city-wide blackout to find that out.

#20 - Talent

She blushed every time he'd tell her she had a natural talent for DJing, insisting that it was a learned skill; he stopped arguing with her about it after a while but in reality, he still thought she was damn talented.

#21 - Silence

Normally he hated silence but when she was in the room and quiet, it was all right; there really wasn't a need to talk about everything and anything that popped into their heads, even if they frequently did just that.

#22 - Journey

"I want to go places, Danny, and that's why I came to New York; I guess it's part of my personal journey," she'd told him when he asked why she'd picked the New York City labs over all the other job offers she'd received.

#23 - Fire

He heard her yelp first, and then raced into the kitchen to see whatever it was she had been trying to cook completely engulfed in flames as she scrambled for the fire extinguisher he'd bought for the kitchen in case she decided to cook something more than eggs or pancakes.

#24 - Strength

She had the bottle of extra-strength Tylenol already in her hands when he came into her office, saying simply that she'd heard about the suspect slamming him into a wall and she thought he might need them; he was starting to wonder how she knew when he was coming into her office when he could swear she never actually saw him come in.

#25 - Mask

"That's so not me," she said laughingly as she pulled the mask away from her face, but he had to admit he would have asked her to dance if he'd seen her wearing it at a masquerade ball or something like that.

#26 - Ice

She slipped on the ice on the sidewalk and he managed to catch her before her tailbone hit the concrete, and she looked up at him with a rather sheepish look on her face that worked very nicely with his amused grin until they both dissolved into laughter.

#27 - Fall

"I think I can pinpoint the exact moment I fell for you," she'd told him one night; when he pressed her, she told him it was during their first major case together, the cross-jurisdictional, and he'd been sleeping in her guest bedroom and she had to clamp down hard on the urge to wake him up with a kiss.

#28 - Forgotten

She showed up at his apartment with Chinese food for dinner and the suits and jackets he'd had dry cleaned; he'd forgotten to pick up the clothes and get dinner for them that evening since he was working on a paper and was grateful she'd remembered.

#29 - Dance

He hated dancing out in public, but at home he had no problem twirling and dipping her, making her dizzy until she couldn't stand up enough to dance anymore, which led to them collapsing on the couch in laughter which usually ended up with them in bed shortly thereafter...for obvious reasons, then, he loved dancing with her in the privacy of his or her apartment.

#30 - Body

He knew every inch of her body, from her feet up to her head, but every time they were in bed together he found himself inexplicably drawn to the small scar on her chest, which he almost always kissed before he finally fell asleep, much to her amusement.

#31 - Sacred

There were a lot of things that were sacred to her: her family, her friends, the oath she took when she became a cop...and her relationship with him, and it was that last one that constantly pleased and surprised him since he found he was feeling the same way about her.

#32 - Farewells

She looked out one last time at the gorgeous beach and said her good-byes to her old beachfront home; he didn't have to ask her if that was what she was doing, he just knew, and he also knew she'd take his hand when she was done and they'd head back to New York and maybe everything would be okay.

#33 - World

He wanted to give her the world, she made him that happy; when he told her that she'd laughed and said she'd be happy with just a slice of New York City to share with him.

#34 - Formal

"It's Ryan and Lindsay's wedding, Danny, and we're in the wedding party; that means you get to wear that and I get to wear this," she said as she emerged from her bathroom and his jaw dropped as he took in her long plum-colored bridesmaid dress; with her hair up and curled she looked absolutely beautiful, and suddenly his being stuck in a tux wasn't so bad.

#35 - Fever

"You have a 104-degree fever, Danny," she said in a worried tone of voice as she grabbed a jacket for each of them, "and I don't care what you say, I'm taking you to the hospital...Mac can just yell at me for missing work later."

#36 - Laugh

She had a nice laugh, and he found himself looking for ways to make her laugh just so he could hear it; when he realized that, it started to dawn on him that he might actually be falling in love with her.

#37 - Lies

"I have no problem with the little white lies, the polite social ones...like if I ever ask you if something makes me look fat you better tell me it doesn't regardless of whether it does or not," she said, pointing a fork with salad speared on it at him as they talked over dinner in her office.

#38 - Forever

She glared at the microwave, arms crossed under her breasts and foot tapping impatiently, muttering "This is taking forever" under her breath as he watched, amused and knowing full well that it was his fault she was running late.

#39 - Overwhelmed

He looked around at the casework on his left and his newest paper on his right and groaned, feeling overwhelmed and frustrated until Christina breezed over to pick up the paperwork, telling him she'd type it up for him and to go back to work on the paper before his professor docked his grade for it being late.

#40 - Whisper

She straddled his lap, her face over his and her lips inches away from his, and suddenly she turned her head and whispered in his ear; he picked her up and carried her into her room and wouldn't let her say anything above a whisper the whole time because her voice at a whisper level was a definite turn-on.

#41 - Wait

He had learned she had even less patience than he did at times, but all it usually took to get her to slow down was a simple "Wait a sec" from him, and she'd pause and look at him, which gave her whirring brain time to process things better.

#42 - Talk

He watched her talk on the phone with her mother, pacing back and forth with her arms moving animatedly and her vigorous nodding and a huge smile and he idly wondered if she did the same thing when she was on the phone with him until she thrust the phone at him, asking him to talk to her mother while she went to get something...and he was suddenly at a loss for words.

#43 - Search

She pawed through the bin of records until he saw a triumphant look cross her face; seconds later she lifted up a single record and grinned, proclaiming her search for the perfect song to complete her set with.

#44 - Hope

When she agreed to dinner, he had hoped she'd agree to another one; when they hit various month-marking milestones together, he had hoped their relationship would last; and when she said she'd marry him he had hope for a great future.

#45 - Eclipse

He couldn't believe she'd never seen an eclipse before, and when an eclipse came, the two of them were up on the roof of the labs along with most of the other staff, watching it in awed silence; she told him later watching it with him quietly talking to her the whole time had made it more interesting than she'd thought it would be and who knew he was an astronomy buff?

#46 - Gravity

She put on a particular Coldplay song to fall asleep and so now, whenever anyone mentioned the word "gravity," he automatically thought of that song and her sleeping soundly, no matter what was being talked about.

#47 - Highway

He saw her look out the rented car's window, staring longingly at the ocean as they went down the 101, and he started to wonder why the hell she stayed in New York when she really wanted to be back in California...and he wondered why he was suddenly okay with the idea of maybe leaving New York and going to San Diego.

#48 - Unknown

He had no clue as to where they were heading with this relationship at times, and it didn't bother him as much as he'd thought it would.

#49 - Lock

She gave him a sheepish look as he approached her apartment, mumbling something about locking her keys in her apartment; she was so red in the face he didn't want to make it any worse by letting out the laugh he was suppressing as he unlocked her apartment for her.

#50 - Breathe

It was almost like he needed to remind himself to breathe when he was around her, he got so caught up in his thoughts about her, and as she flashed him a quick smile from across the lab and waved, engagement ring gleaming, he wondered how he'd been happy without her around.

#csi ny #csi: ny #csi new york #danny messer #fanfic #fanfiction #danny x ofc #original character #my stuff

[thenerdycarat]

Ch. 1: Trust No One

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

Warnings: mentions of loss, death, and gunfire

2014

Memories both sad and wonderful rushed back to him in that Smithsonian exhibit. He was a part of history and a symbol of hope to many, according to what the museum narration said. If only they knew it wasn’t all heroic at times. Despite the many victories, he could never get past the loss of his best friend on the mountain. Even seeing Peggy’s face on a few displays pierced his heart a bit.

“They make war seem glamorous,” a woman’s silvery voice scoffed next to him.

When Steve looked towards the source, a young woman with long, chocolate brown hair dyed bright red at the ends stood next to him. She was a fairly tall woman around five foot nine, and her skin was as fair as porcelain. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of green as if they were made of emeralds, and a few of her features reminded him of Peggy. Her outfit was styled both in comfort and chic. What stuck out to him were her deep red lips, so perfect and blossom-like. Just seeing her there made him smile from ear to ear.

“By the tone of your voice,” Steve chuckled a little, “you don’t seem too pleased with the exhibit.”

“The exhibit’s great,” she defends herself, “it just seems like it’s putting the concept of war into some fairytale.”

“I know what you mean.”

“Because you were there?” she lowered her voice.

“I think we both know the answer to that,” he smiles and gently pecks her cheek.

Elsie Walker. Twenty-two years old, S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in training, a college graduate with a Bachelor’s in Mass Communications, and the kindest heart Steve had ever known, she had captured his heart in so many ways after meeting her at NYU where he had spoken at an assembly. He was lost and needed directions to the auditorium since things had changed within the last seventy years, and she happened to be hanging posters for a theater production coming up. Something about the graduating senior just fascinated him, and after their first date to a ‘50s-themed diner, the two were practically inseparable when he wasn’t on hero duty. However, the two had to keep the relationship secret, even from the other Avengers. There was a reason why Steve had turned down offers to go on blind dates Nat tried setting up, but she took it as him not being interested or too busy with his job.

“Sweetheart, we’re in public,” she pushes him off of her playfully as her cheeks blushed a bright pink.

“A kiss to the cheek isn’t PDA,” he argues with a laugh.

“Fair point,” Elsie giggles before noticing a short film playing and hears Peggy’s voice.

She had known Steve had loved her, but she wasn’t jealous. Not because Peggy was now old in age, but rather she understood how much she had meant to him and to S.H.I.E.L.D. If given the chance, she’d shake hands with her and thank her for being an inspiration to change the world.

“Come here,” she pulls Steve by the hand and leads him towards the movie.

The couple sits down and listens to all Peggy had to say back in the early 50s. It was adamant she missed him, but she praised him for his bravery and mentioned how Steve was still changing her life.

Steve then pulls out the compass he carried with him and opens it, Peggy’s old picture still tucked inside.

Elsie noticed the picture and smiled softly. “She was beautiful,” she whispered.

“I’ve been meaning to replace it,” he says, shutting the item again. He wasn’t expecting his girlfriend to react so positively.

She shakes her head. “No. Don’t.”

When the short film ends, the two leave the museum on his motorcycle and head back to their apartment. Steve’s head was still swimming with thoughts of his past love from the movie they watched. In his heart, Elsie was the girl he wanted to be with now he was given a second chance, but he still had a place there for Peggy. He just needed to see her again.

“Hey, do you mind if I go see her?” Steve asks after Elsie gets off the bike. “Peggy?”

Elsie softly smiles and nods. “Go,” she says. “Tell her hello for me.”

“I won’t be long,” he presses a loving kiss to her lips before speeding off again.

She then heads into the apartment building and heads up the stairs. The two had moved to D.C. together after she graduated about four months prior, so they both had their own set of keys by now. There wasn’t too much going on as far as decor went, but they still made the space their own. There was a large flatscreen for them to watch their favorite shows, some nature paintings hanging around the walls, and sitting on a small shelf by the recliner was a record player Elsie gifted Steve for Christmas. While they didn’t have that much time to add more, it was home.

However, there was a little problem as far as neighbors went: Sharon. Everyone else at S.H.I.E.L.D. knew Elsie was living with her boyfriend, but she never gave his identity. Not even Sharon knew Elsie was neighbors with her as she avoided being seen by her. To Sharon, Steve was the only one who lived in the apartment down the hall. Sharon wasn’t a mean person at all. She and Elsie actually knew each other from S.H.I.E.L.D, but they were more acquaintances at work rather than friends. Elsie knew the blonde woman was trying to flirt with Steve whenever she could, however, Steve never caught on to what she was trying to do. And for whatever reason, Steve knew her as “Kate”, but Elsie figured maybe she was trying to keep her identity secret as most veteran agents did when undercover. Steve once asked why Elsie avoided being seen by their neighbor, and her answer was always, “You never know who could be an agent.”

Thankfully, Sharon wasn’t home, so Elsie could peacefully head inside the apartment. She turns on the record player for some music to relax while she does some work on her laptop while she waits for Steve to come home.

Normally, she wouldn’t turn on music without putting her headphones on first (as to avoid Sharon) or if she and Steve had a night where they would just dance together (Elsie taught him how), but she figured since she was home alone for a little while, why not? They had a healthy record collection of all kinds of music of varying genres from different decades, including the soundtrack to Dirty Dancing. After watching the movie one time, Steve insisted on learning every dance from the film.

A few hours later, she comes to a stopping point and goes to change into some more comfortable clothing. When she comes back into the kitchen, she can hear voices outside. Steve was home, but of course, Sharon was out there, too.

“Oh, I think you left your stereo on,” Sharon is heard saying, followed by the sound of a door closing.

“Damn it,” Elsie whispers under her breath.

…

Rather than opening the door, Steve sneaked into the apartment through the window and grabbed his shield. He knew Elsie was home and liked to turn on the record player for some music, but not whenever Kate was home.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Elsie smiles when she sees him in the small hallway, causing him to jump a little. “Why are you coming in through the window?”

“Hi, angel,” he greets her before kissing her cheek. “Why is the record player on?”

“I needed background noise for some work. Was Kate home already? I heard voices outside the door.”

Steve nods and relaxes, but when they were about to round the corner to the living room, neither of them was expecting to see Nick Fury sitting in a relaxed position in the recliner, causing Elsie to jump a little.

“I had no idea he was here,” she says.

“I didn’t want to disturb you while you were working,” Fury says before looking over at Steve, “in the captain’s home.”

“Fury, I can explain.”

“That’s a matter for you to speak with your uncle about, Miss Walker.”

Steve kept his guard up. He wasn’t sure why Fury would just show up unannounced, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

“I don’t remember giving you a key,” he says, clutching his shield.

“You really think I’d need one?” Fury says, sitting up with a pained grunt. “My wife kicked me out.” He pulls out his phone and begins to type something.

Wife? Fury? Everyone knew he was single, so something was definitely up.

“Didn’t know you were married,” Elsie replied, being quick on her feet to use her training. Seeing how Steve was standing, she quickly moved behind him.

“A lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“I know, Nick,” Steve sighs and turns on the lights as the couple walk into the living room. “That’s the problem.”

Fury gives him a look and hand gesture that tells him not to turn any lights on. This left the two confused, but it confirmed Elsie’s suspicions that something was up.

He then shows them what he had typed: EARS EVERYWHERE

Yep, they were in trouble.

“I’m sorry to have to do this,” Fury breaks the silence, “but I had no place to crash.”

“Who else knows?” Steve asks.

Fury types something else and shows them: SHIELD COMPROMISED

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve asks, his tone more serious now.

Another message: YOU AND ME

“Just my friends,” Fury answered as he stood slowly.

“Is that what we are?” Steve spat.

“That’s up to you.”

Loud gunshots broke the tense silence, Steve grabbed Elsie and used his shield to help them dodge the bullets puncturing the windows. Fury cried out in pain as he was injured by them. Finding her pistol inside one of the large fake books on the shelf, Elsie rolls Fury over and points it towards where the bullets came through in case more were fired. The couple then dragged an unconscious Fury into the kitchen so he was away from the windows.

Before they could investigate, Fury grabs Steve’s arm, coughing and struggling to breathe as he did so. He handed him what appeared to be a giant thumb drive.

“Don’t…trust…anyone,” he wheezed as he slips into unconsciousness.

Three bangs on the door rang out before it was broken open.

“Captain Rogers?” a woman’s voice called out.

“Stay with Fury,” he tells Elsie before going to peek through the shelf that separated the kitchen from the living room.

Kate was tiptoeing through the apartment still dressed in her pink nursing scrubs and wielding a pistol as Elsie had.

“Captain Rogers, I’m Agent 13 of S.H.I.E.L.D. Special Service,” Kate reveals to him, keeping her gun at the ready.

“Kate?” He was confused.

“I’m assigned to protect you.”

“On whose order?” Steve asks her.

“His,” Sharon says, looking straight at an unconscious Fury. She immediately drops to her knees and checks his pulse before pulling out a radio. “Foxtrot is down, he’s unresponsive. I need EMTs.”

“Do we have a 20 on the shooter?” an agent on the radio responds as Steve prepares for battle.

“Tell them I’m in pursuit,” he says before jumping out of the window to chase the mysterious assailant.

Elsie watched him go, the worry she felt each time he left for a mission creeping up on her while she looked at him with admiration. She was proud of him, regardless, and she hoped maybe one day she’d get to fight alongside him.

Sharon looked towards her, and her eyes grew wide in shock at the site of a trainee in the home of Captain Rogers.

“May I ask what you’re doing here, Agent Walker?” she asks with an arched brow once Fury is stabilized.

“Nice to see you, too, Sharon,” Elsie shot back in a sarcastic manner. “But if you must know, I live here.”

“With Captain Rogers?” the agent scoffs in disbelief.

She nods. “I told you I live with my boyfriend.”

Sharon double-takes and rubs her temples. “You and the captain are a couple? Captain America is your boyfriend?”

“Are you done?”

Sharon looks at her and exhales sharply. “I just don’t believe it, yet. But is this even allowed?”

Elsie tilts her head confused. “Suddenly dating Steve is forbidden because he’s an Avenger?”

“No,” Sharon shakes her head. “I just… does your uncle know?”

She shrugs a little. “Kind of. He knows I’m living with my boyfriend. He just doesn’t know it’s Steve.”

#marvel #mcu #captain america #steve rogers #steve rogers x oc #oc #captain america x oc #mcu fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #mrs. rogers #agent walker

[itsdanii]

i loved the rejecting and regretting series!! could you do one with akaashi and osamu? thanks again!!

Hey, bub. Thank you so much for requesting. I'm happy that you're loving my works, it makes my heart soft 😭♥️ Here's your request! I hope you have a good day and stay hydrated. Mwah!

Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 5

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: rude behavior (resolved), cursing

a/n: Do read the warnings before you proceed. Warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. akaashi keiji, osamu miya

Title says it all

Akaashi Keiji

With your grades in literature almost at the brink of destruction, you had to swallow your pride and ask one of your classmates to tutor you

While you're the best in most subject areas, you sucked when it comes to literature

You didn't see the point of studying articles, analyzing literary pieces and using poetic words

But for the sake of graduating, you had to take the subject

But it seemed like the subject hated you just as much as you hated it

And so, one afternoon, you slammed a limited edition book you knew Akaashi, your classmate and your crush, liked on his desk and stared at him with pleading eyes as you begged him to tutor you

At first, he rejected the offer, opting to pat your head before leaving the classroom

But you were persistent

It wasn't long then when he started taking pity on you

All your papers had red marks in them and everytime there was a test, you would stare blankly at your paper and jot down nonsense ideas

At the sight of you in the  brink of tears, Akaashi sighed and decided to help, given that you have to focus and not do random stuff during your sessions

And that's how you found yourself in this current situation - hand holding the pen tightly, your eyes focused on the man in front of you instead of the story analysis he's explaining, and your heart beating as if you just finished a 5km run

"Are you even listening?"

You blinked your eyes at him and smiled sheepishly before scratching the back of your head. You knew that a small blush was probably visible on your cheeks now but of course, you had to play it cool.

"Of course," you said with a confident nod. "You were uh, talking about young love."

Akaashi rose an eyebrow at your answer as if challenging you to elaborate.

"The main character was in love with the guy... and the guy doesn't like her? And she-" you paused for a moment and grabbed the book you were reading, eyes scanning between the lines before continuing your probably wrong answer. "She died?"

With a sigh, Akaashi stood up and sat beside you, your elbows pressing against each other as he leaned down to write something on your book.

"Okay, first and foremost, she didn't die. She left. This part here-"

As he continued explaining, you felt yourself getting lost once again. Your eyes scanned over his features, taking notice of how long his lashes were and how flawless his skin was that you were almost tempted to caress it. His scent surrounded you for being too close which tempted you to shut your eyes.

"I like you," you blurted out unconsciously.

The both of you froze as soon as the words escaped your lips, eyes widening and lips parting as you stared at each other with shocked expressions.

Fuck.

Aaashi, who was the first to compose himself, cleared his throat before sitting upright. "Y/n-san, I'm really flattered by your infatuation but you do know that I'm only here to tutor you, right? We agreed to focus. We're supposed to be studying, not flirting with each other."

"I know but..."

"I can't accept your confession, I'm sorry," Akaashi said before sighing. "How about we end this session already? I don't want your mind wandering while I talk here knowing that you're out of focus."

You immediately shook your head no. "It's okay, Keiji. You don't have to like me back, you know? Just let me like you. You can just pretend that nothing happened. I promise I won't do anything that'll make you feel uncomfortable."

Despite your facade, Akaashi knew that you were forcing yourself to act unbothered. It wasn't really hard to figure you out. Like a book, he could read you within seconds and know exactly what you were thinking and how you were feeling, and at this moment, he knew that you were just pretending.

For the sake of not making you feel uncomfortable and guilty, Akaashi nodded before continuing his explanation regarding the story.

Surprisingly, you stayed true to your words. You didn't say anything out of the line nor forced your confession to him. Akaashi admired you for that since most of the girls whom asked him for help from the past were only after his looks and the sake of getting in his pants.

As your session came to an end, you stretched your arms out. You released a breath of relief before smiling at him. "Thank you so much for teaching me, and I'm sorry for taking so much of your time."

You started keeping your things and piling up the books you're going to borrow from the library. Standing up, you gave him a small bow before grabbing your bag. "I'll see you around then?"

Akaashi just nodded and watched as you made your way out of the library, not knowing how hard you were gripping the books you had in your hand.

That night, you cried your eyes out. Sure, at your age, it may seem childish to cry over someone, but this was Akaashi we're talking about.

The Akaashi Keiji.

The one whom you've liked ever since your first year in college. The one you've liked the moment you saw him sleeping inside a nearly empty library, several cups of coffee and littered paper surrounding his table as if he had been studying the whole night. The one who never noticed you but you never failed to notice.

Your Akaashi, or at least in your dreams, he was yours.

You stared at the now empty tub of icecream on your lap and sniffled. Grabbing another roll of tissue, you began to wipe your tears and your runny nose before playing another cliche romance movie to soothe your broken heart.

-

Your study sessions with Akaashi continued for a couple more weeks but unlike your previous meetings, you weren't as enthusiastic.

You were focused and attentive, but it just wasn't the same. Akaashi noticed how you would try to put a bit of distance between the two of you, how you would avoid looking at him in the eye, and how you avoided touching him.

But what he noticed the most, were your swollen eyes the day after you confessed to him. He knew that there was only a 50% chance that it was because of how you were rejected by him, and yet he felt an immense feeling of regret. The moment he saw you, he realized that he never wanted to see you like that again.

But he didn't know how to approach you. No, you didn't ignore him like the other girls do. You also didn't say any nasty remarks nor talk shit about him.

What you did was pretend as if everything was okay, as if nothing happened. It felt normal... too normal.

And it terrified him.

One time during your break, you slipped a test paper in front of him, a big A+ written on the sheet of paper making Akaashi lift his eyes from the paper towards you.

"You did good," Akashi said with a proud smile.

"Mhm, I guess I did," you said before taking the paper from him. "I wouldn't have gotten this score if it weren't for you though. Thank you."

He shook his head no before leaning back on his chair. "That was all on you. All I did was guide you."

"This might be our last study session."

"What?" Akaashi said as he stared at you with an expression you can't quite decipher.

"I mean... I don't think I need any more help. I feel like I can manage on my own already and I've no one to thank but you." You looked away from him before continuing, "I think it would benefit the two of us if we stop this already. While I'm grateful for you, I don't think that it's good for me anymore. I thought that if I acted like it didn't matter then it wouldn't, but Keiji..."

"No," Akashi said with a shake of his head.

"What do you.."

"I don't want to stop this." Gripping his hair, Akaashi, took in a deep breath before reaching for your hand.

"Y/n, I don't want to go back to how things were before. I don't want to be just your classmate. I'll miss how you would stare off into space and daydream while I'm explaining to you and I'm going to miss how you would make up answers just to prove that you were listening when in fact you weren't. I'm going to miss you, and I know that if we stop this study sessions... I may never get the opportunity to be this close to you again, and I don't like that."

Akaashi squeezed your hand in his and intertwined your fingers. "I like you. I like you so much that it scares me."

"Keiji.. look at me, please," you said softly as you tried to take your hand back.

Feeling your movements, Akaashi tightened his hold on you and shook his head no. "Y/n..."

"I'm not going to leave," you assured him and smiled when he finally let go of your hand.

Akaashi watched as you stood up from your seat and made your way to his side. He was then surprised when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around him.

"Did you really mean what you said?" you asked which made him immediately nod.

"Of course. I really do like you." Akaashi carefully wrapped his arms around your waist, watching for any negative reaction, and pulling you closer when he didn't receive any. "You're sitting on my lap and basically hugging me. Does this mean that you still like me?"

"Of course, Keiji," you said with a smile.

"Then..." Akaashi collected your hair to one side and gently placed his hand on your nape, his eyes traveling down from your eyes to your lips. "Can I kiss you?"

With a simple nod from you, Akaashi pressed his lips against yours.

a/n: yes, you made out in the library. This is Akaashi were talking about and there's no way I wont take the opportunity to make out with him in the library lmao.

Osamu Miya

You were one of the lucky fans of the Miya twins, specifically Osamu's

Why? Because you're Aran Ojiro's sister and that meant that you can freely see your crush any time of the day

The team basically treats you as their own sister

Although it gives you a lot of perks, it also had its disadvantages

Because no matter how much you try hinting your feelings towards a certain Miya, he just won't acknowledge it

In fact, you didn't get along with him

Unlike the rest of the team, Osamu would always pick on you

You actually didn't expect it to happen because you thought that Atsumu was the playful one among them

But boy did Osamu prove you wrong

There weren't any time of the day that you won't pick at each other, spouting remarks here and there until the other gives up

It never went overboard though. You both knew your limits and when to stop

Or at least that's what you thought

Because today, he chose to target the wrong topic

You were currently seated in the middle of the court with the rest of the team. All of you were in the form of a circle with an empty bottle in the middle.

It was Atsumu's idea to play a game of truth or dare before you all go home. According to him, it would be effective on "cooling" off their bodies from the intense practice. Even Kita was forced to participate, thanks to Atsumu's constant whining.

With a wide grin, Atsumu spun the bottle which made most of you take in a deep breath due to the anticipation.

Finally, the bottle stopped. The tip was pointed at you while the other side was pointed towards Atsumu.

"Y/n! How lucky of ya! Truth or dare?" he asked with a wiggle of his brows.

"Truth." You couldn't help but roll your eyes after that, knowing that what's to come will probably be something silly.

Except it wasn't.

"Then... If yer given the chance to date someone from the team, who would it be?" Atsumu asked proudly, giving Osamu a side glance before focusing on you again.

You heard your brother groaning from beside you making you giggle. Placing his arm on top of your head, Aran gave each of the members a glare.

"Hm... I'd probably date 'S-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, Osamu let out a loud chuckle. All eyes snapped to his direction, watching him in confusion.

"Sorry, sorry," Osamu said after composing himself. "Did ya really have to ask that? Of course she'd pick Suna. Haven't ya notice the way she looks at him every practice?"

"Huh?" Suna muttered absentmindedly, his eyes lifting up from his phone towards Osamu.

"Don't even try denying it, y/n. Plus, even if ya try, I know Suna will basically reject ya. I mean, I can't even stand ya. If it were me, I'd reject ya on the spot. Yer annoying and too loud and that thing ya do with yer hand when yer explaining? Super annoying. Ah! And don't ferget the way yer nose scrunches when yer deep in thought," Osamu said without any pause.

Once he was done, he titled his head a bit to the side, trying to peek at your face that was now casted downwards, your hair covering most of your face. "Oh, are ya crying? Did I ruin yer confession?"

To his surprise, there were indeed tears streaming down your cheeks when you lifted your head up. Everyone grew silent, completely shocked at the sight.

"I was going to confess to you, dumbass." With that, you stood up, grabbed your bag and ran out of the gym.

Aran immediately stood up to follow you, but not before throwing a glare to Osamu.

Atsumu, who was the first to break the silence, turned towards his twin. "Okay, I know that I'm dumber among the two of us but that was a real jerk move right there, 'Samu."

Osamu could only stare at the gym doors with shock and regret written on his face.

"You're on the bench until I'm sure that you and y/n-san made up," Kita simply said before standing up. "Game's over. Let's all go home."

-

The following days, you avoided Osamu like a plague. It even reached the point that you have to eat lunch inside your classroom instead of eating with the team like you usually do.

Even Aran was pissed at Osamu. Aran knew that a playful banter was normal between you and Osamu but never had it ever reached this point.

You were basically crying all night when you arrived home and if not for Aran's patience, you wouldn't have went home in the first place. When you left the gym, your brother found you in a nearby park, your knees up to your chest and your head hidden from view.

He wasn't oblivious about your feelings towards Osamu but he never mentioned about since he wanted you to tell him or any of the members when you're comfortable enough. It was only unfortunate that the moment you felt confident enough to confess, Osamu had to pull that shit on you.

"C'mon, Aran. I need to talk to them," Osamu pleaded as he tried to get pass your brother.

Aran stood firmly infront of your apartment, his arms crossed over his chest and his figure blocking the door. "You really have the audacity to march your way to our apartment after the shit you put my sibling through? What, you got tired of sitting on the bench during matches? Can't impress your fanclub anymore? Go home, Miya."

"I'm sorry, okay? I wanted to apologize to them but they've been avoiding me. This is my last resort." Osamu said and gripped his hair in frustration.

Once he saw a peek of you trying to hide yourself behind a wall, Osamu immediately grabbed the opportunity. "Y/n, I'm sorry! Talk to me, please!  I... I don't know what to do anymore. I'm sorry..."

You soften at the pleading voice of Osamu and revealed yourself from behind the wall. Walking over to the door, you placed a hand on Aran's shoulder. "Give us space to talk, please?"

Your brother threw a glance at Osamu and sighed at the determined look on his face. "Alright," he muttered before turning towards you. "Call me if anything happens, alright?"

Upon hearing you hum in agreement, Aran placed a hand on your head to ruffle your hair, chuckling as he heard you whining before he went out.

You invited Osamu inside your apartment, making sure to close the door before settling yourselves on the living room.

"Water?" you asked out of courtesy but Osamu only shook his head no. "Talk then."

Osamu felt an unsettling feeling inside him at your dismissive tone. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I was used to havin' banters with ya that I didn't realize that I was already sayin' too much. I didn't mean to hurt yer feelings, y/n. I know that it may sound ridiculous considerin' how harsh I was to ya but I really didn't mean those words."

You listened attentively to him as he continued to apologize, your tears once again flowing down your cheeks as you remembered everything that happened. "I really like you, 'Samu. I don't even know how or why but I just do and I guess I was hurt, not only because you rejected me but also humiliated me. I don't deserve that," you said and brought your knees up to your chest, clutching the throw blanket as you sobbed.

Osamu was beside you in an instant, his arms enclosing you as he pulled you to his lap. "I know...I know. I'm sorry," he whispered as he rubbed your back soothingly. "I guess I got blinded by jealousy. I thought that ya were going to say Suna's name so I assumed that ya like him."

Wiping your nose with the sleeve of the hoodie you're wearing, you looked up at him with a frown. "Jealousy? I thought you hated me. Why would you even feel jealous?"

"Do I really have to spell it out fer ya?" Seeing you nod, Osamu sighed and pressed your face to his chest in order to hide his flustered cheeks. "I like ya, okay? I always pick on ya because I wanted yer attention. I didn't actually expect ya to fight back but ya did. That's why I was intrigued by ya, and if ya still like m-"

"Yes," you answered without even letting him finish. With your face still buried to his chest, you could hear his heartbeat picking up. You pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, you cheeks still slightly damp from crying.

"Yer not kiddin'?" Osamu asked as he stared at you, his hand reaching up to wipe your cheeks with his thumb.

"I'm not. I'm still a little hurt so you have to make it up to me, but my feelings? They're still here," you answered honestly.

A smile made its way to Osamu's lips upon hearing what you said. Pressing his forehead with yours, he tightened his arms around your waist to hold you closer. "Thank ya fer givin' me another chance, angel."

After making up and stealing kisses here and there, you and Osamu decided to cuddle on the couch, your back against his chest and his arm resting against your waist.

It safe to say that when Aran came back, the most sour expression made its way to his face. It hadn't even been two weeks when he witnessed you literally crying your eyes out and now, he comes back to you sleeping on the couch with the man that made you cry.

"Fuck my life," Aran muttered with a groan.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

#haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #hq imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyu x reader #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #hq headcanons #hq hcs #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi fluff #akaashi angst #osamu angst #osamu fluff #akaashi x reader #akaashi imagine #akaashi scenarios #akaashi drabble #osamu scenarios #osamu drabble #osamu hcs #osamu headcanons #akaashi hcs #akaashi headcanons

[rebelwrites]

From This Moment || Part Twelve

Jax Teller x Reader

Summary: Neither Y/N or Jax wanted to go back to reality, enjoying the life in the bubble they had created. Life was simple right now but something always got in the way of their happiness.

Warnings: none

From This Moment Masterlist

50 notes unlocks the next part 🖤

The room was so quiet you swore you could have heard a pin drop. All eyes were on you and Jax, some were looks of confusion, others were looks of worry but the main ones were looks of hatred. Especially from Gemma and the two in question.

“She’s carrying the child of a member of this club,” Gemma spat, looking down at you like you were nothing but trash. “She had every right to be protected, too.”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, she had a point. You may not have liked her but you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if something happened to the child, even if you were still having doubts about who the father actually was.

“What’s he doing here then?” you said lowly, narrowing your eyes at your ex husband, who was standing rather close to Tara, his arm planted around her waist. Just the sight of him was making your stomach churn, once upon a time you were head over heels in love with this guy but now you couldn’t stand the sight of him, now that you could see his true colours. “He has no reason whatsoever to be here.”

“Good to see you too, Sweets.” Ayden laughed coldly, with a smug look on his face. As he watched you screw your face up at the nickname he had for you.

“Wasn’t speaking to you asshole.” You scoffed, trying not to throw up at the name he called you, turning your attention back to Gemma. “As I said, what's he doing here?”

“You seem to be forgetting that he is the ex of the Vice President’s best friend. That link is enough to put him in danger.” Gemma smirked proudly, knowing that it would get under your skin with him being here. “Both Ayden and Tara got attacked last night by the Mexicans.” Raising your brow at them, both you and Jax took in the black eye that was forming on her face. Things didn’t make sense, there was no beef with the Mexicans, it had all been put to bed and a new page was turned. So why would they randomly attack a pregnant woman, and more importantly how did they know she was carrying Jax’s child. “If they are willing to attack pregnant women what else are these spics going to do?”

You blood was boiling, you hated the term Spics with a passion. And here she was just spewing the word out of her mouth. You weren’t even going to waste any more breath on them, you didn’t need to stress yourself out. “Whatever.” You shrugged, wiggling out of Jax’s arms, reaching into his Kutte pulling out the pack of smokes and his zippo before heading outside. You needed some air and had to make an important phone call. A phone call to someone that would know what the word on the street was, someone who wouldn’t feed you bullshit.

Resting the ball of your foot on the pedals of Jax’s bike you perched your ass on the seat as you pulled the phone to your ear, letting your lit cigarette hang between your blood red lips. Taking a few deep breaths as you listened to the dial tone.

“Took you long enough to answer, Tio!” You laughed, as you watched the smoke from your cigarette float into the air. “Could have been dying here.”

“But you aren’t, Chika, so don’t get dramatic.” His voice boomed down the phone, causing a small smile to appear on your face. “We both know I’m the dramatic one here. So stop stealing my role. Now, what can I do for my favourite person.”

“I need to know what the streets are saying. Club’s gone into lockdown and Tara is saying her and Ayden got attacked by the Mexicans last night. So Gemma, being mother Teresa, has them at the club.” You sighed heavily, watching as Jax strolled out of the clubhouse, glancing around the lot until he spotted you.

“Leave it to your Tio,” he said softly, “Give me a couple of hours to get the info and I will come and check on you both.” You smiled at his statement, knowing that he cared for Jax the same way he cared for you, even if he did tease you. “Oh and Chika, didn’t I tell you that white boy was dangerous and there’s a reason I call him troublemaker?” You could hear the smirk in his voice and could clearly picture the face and gestures he was pulling right now. “Try not to kill anyone.” He laughed, ending the call.

Pulling your phone away from your ear, you shook your head at your phone. You knew he wouldn’t let you down, he always pulled through with the intel. Jax was now standing in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs. “Everything okay, Darlin’?” he asked, kissing the top of your head.

“Yeah,” you breathed, tossing the cigarette but on the floor, instantly replacinging it. You knew chain smoking wasn’t the answer but right now it was helping. “Tio is going to see what the word on the street is, I don’t think it was the Mexicans. He said he would swing by once he has found something but I think that is more so he can check up on me.”

“It’s because he loves you,” Jax whispered, brushing his fingers over your cheeks. “Now finish your smoke, go take a shower, it will help relax you and I know you are dying to get changed.” He nodded, dropping his gaze to your feet. “I don’t know how you deal with these things.”

“There is a thing called a work dress code, you know.” You smirked, cocking your bow at him, “But yeah I hate them, they are the spawn of Satan, give me my trainers and combat boots any day of the week.”

Jax felt you tense under his touch, following your gaze he saw Tara and Ayden strolling out of the clubhouse. He knew that this would be bringing up old memories, because it was for him. He hated the amount of nights you were sobbing in his arms due to an argument. “Just ignore them baby,” Jax hummed, taking your hand in his running his fingers over your finger tattoo. “They just want to get a reaction out of you.”

He was right, especially with the way they were both watching you like a hawk. If looks could kill you would be dead. “Just hold your head up high and ignore them,” Jax whispered, pulling you to your feet, taking the remainder of your smoke off you. Normally you would moan at him for it but you couldn’t be bothered. You were just tired of being froze out, it was like you were the black sheep of this very fucked up family.

Soon enough you were in the bathroom of the bunk, letting the hot water lash down at your skin. Jax decided to leave you to it, knowing that you weren’t in the mood for talking right now, so he gently closed the door to the bunk, making his way down the hallway. Stopping the moment he reached his father’s bike, resting his hand on the handlebar he looked at the photo on the wall. “What do I do Dad?” He mumbled, blinking back a few tears. “This isn’t how everything was meant to go. Will we ever get our happy ending?” He spoke as if he was going to get the answers he searched for. Shaking his head, he used the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe his eyes before joining everyone back in the main room.

“How is the little lass?” Chibs asked, slamming his hand down on Jax’s shoulder.

“Stressed, but I can’t blame her.” Jax sighed, running his hand over his face. “I’m just trying to keep the stress levels down, we still don’t know what her triggers are for her migraines and the last thing I need is her having an attack because of this fucked up family drama.”

“Things will work themselves out, Jackieboy, they always do,” Chibs said softly. “Just keep doing what you are doing.”

“Thanks, brother,” Jax nodded, reaching over the bar to grab a beer.

Around an hour had passed when one of the prospects came bounding into the clubhouse. “There is someone parked outside of the gates, wanting to get in. Some Mexican guy, but I have never seen this dude before.”

Jax instantly looked up from his conversation with Happy. “What car is it, bro?”

“Turquoise Chevy Bel Air.”

“Let him in.” Jax nodded, not missing the glare he was getting from Clay and his Mom.

“Thats it, just let some fucking Spic into the club,” Clay growled, makking the whole room fall silent once again. “You remember we are on lockdown and it was the Mexicans that attacked the mother of your child.”

Jax rolled his eyes, instantly standing to his feet, barging past everyone to square up with Clay, he was seconds away from punching Clay not caring if he was the President or his step father. Before he could throw a punch, he felt the soft touch of your hand on his. “It’s not worth it, baby,” you said softly. He didn’t know you had ventured out of the room.

“Your Tio is here.” He breathed, focusing on your touch rather than the anger that was running through his veins. “Let's see what the streets are saying.” Linking your fingers with Jax’s you both made your way outside, Jax didn’t miss the smile on your face as you watched the Bel Air cruise into the lot, parking wherever there was space.

The moment Nero stepped out of the car, he ran his gaze over your appearance, the hoodie you were wearing definitely didn’t belong to you especially with how oversized it was. “See you don’t wear your own clothes now, Princesca.” He smirked, raising his brow as he pointed to the navy blue SAMCRO hoodie. “At least you aren’t stealing my jumpers and cardigans.” He chuckled, pulling you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head. “‘Mano, you might want to invest in some more clothes because this one is notorious for stealing clothing.”

“Trust me, I know.” Jax laughed, as you stepped back allowing Nero to hug him. “She was stealing my shit long before Vegas, she tries to deny it but she has one section that is just my hoodies and t-shirts.”

“Still here you know,” you huffed, pouting at your husband. “Now let's take this inside, I have a feeling the whole club is going to want to hear what the truth is.”

Once again all eyes were on you as you walked back into the clubhouse. Leaning against the bar as Chucky instantly asked Nero what he wanted to drink, beaming when he asked for a coffee. Smiling softly at Chucky you asked him to make you one two, you had always liked how he made it, it was always the perfect blend of sweetness and bitterness.

“So, this attack on your baby mama, wasn’t the Mexicans.” Nero hummed, sipping his coffee, nodding approvingly at Chucky. “Very reliable source as well.”

“Your source is wrong.” Tara snapped, raising her voice.

“Do I look like a person who does not have reliable sources?” Nero said bluntly, pointing to himself as he spoke. “In my line of business everyone gets vetted, so do not try to say my sources are anything but legit.”

You couldn't help but smirk as he put Tara in her place. Folding your arms over your chest, you watched as her skin started turning a nice shade of crimson as she got flustered. Her mouth opened like she was going to say something but instantly stopped herself. You had caught her out and she knew it. This beef wasn’t with the Mayans or any of the other Mexican clubs, this was with Darby’s crew for torching the porn studio.

“So, Tara,” Jax’s voice boomed through the club. “Anything you want to say? Or are you just going to keep lying about how you got that black eye?”

The silence was deafening, you watched intently as her eyes darted around the room, realizing that all eyes were on her. You watched as she fumbled with the sleeve of her hoodie, the colour fully draining out of her face and she looked like she was going to throw up.

“We haven’t got all day!” You scoffed, folding your arms over your chest as you rested your head on Jax’s shoulder, waiting for her to speak.

“It must have been a random act of violence then.” Tara started, throwing her arms up in the air.

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#from this moment #jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine

[mldrgrl]

It Never Rains in Southern California

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: Who wants some post-Emily angst this morning??

Part 1

Mulder waits silently, because it’s all he can do.  He can’t bring back the child that was stolen from her, can’t give her the promise of others, all he can do is stand beside her and wait for her to take her time.  She finally turns to him, but says nothing.  He straightens and takes his hands out of his pockets.

“Ready?” he asks.

“What time is our flight?”

“We’re booked on the redeye.”

“You got my bag, as I asked?”

“It’s in the car.”

She nods softly and then opens her hand and looks down at the necklace she’d taken from Emily’s tiny casket.  Mulder casts his eyes about the chapel, searching the pews for Scully’s overcoat as she rearms herself with the symbol of her faith.  He helps her into her coat and places his hand at the small of her back as they leave.

There’s a light drizzle falling when they exit the building and Mulder points out the location of the rental car to Scully before they make a dash across the parking lot.  He opens the passenger door for her and she leans over the center console to unlock the driver’s door for him.  He wipes a few drops of rain from his forehead with the back of his hand before he puts the key in the ignition and flips the heat on.  She puts her fingertips to the vents for a few moments and then sits back in her seat with a sigh.  The rain pings on the roof of the car, a steady staccato over the hum of the engine and the whisper of warm air.

“I told my family I’d be back to the house,” she says.

He raises his eyebrows in surprise.  She’d told him earlier she didn’t want to go back to Bill’s and had asked him to take her suitcase with him so they would be ready to leave.  She’d told him she’d already told her mother she was cutting her trip a couple days short.

“We still have a few hours before we have to be at the airport,” he answers.  “If you want to-”

“I’ll call my mother a little later,” she says, cutting him off.  “What I want is…what I want is to get so drunk I can’t see straight.”

Mulder raises his brows again.  He can probably count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Scully with a drink and he’s never seen her drunk.  Tipsy, yes, drunk, no.  He glances at the digital clock on the dashboard.

“Airport lounge?” he asks.  

She shakes her head and he notices that the damp from the rain has already caused her hair to fluff and curl slightly at the ends.  “Can we rebook for the morning?”

Mulder takes his cell phone out from his inside breast pocket without hesitation and pulls up the number for The Lone Gunmen.  Scully fiddles with the vents while he waits for the call to connect.  Langley answers on the fourth ring.

“Turn the tape off,” Mulder says.

“Yep, it’s off,” Langley answers.

“Great, now really turn it off.”

“It’s off!”

“Listen, I need a favor, and I know it’s low-hanging fruit for someone with your skill level, but I’d rather not go through the hassle right now.”

“Whatcha got?”

“Scully and I are booked on a redeye out of San Diego tonight and I just need you to put us on something in the morning instead.”

“Man, when you said it was low-hanging fruit, you really meant it.  What airline you on?  Wait, don’t tell me.  Let me just…bingo.  American, flight 1443 at 9:30.”

“Astounding,” Mulder says, dryly.

“I can put you on a non-stop to Ronald Regan at 7:00 a.m. or Dulles at 8:45 if you want to leave later.”

Mulder puts his hand over the receiver and turns to Scully.  “8:45 to Dulles or Ronald Regan at 7:00?” he asked.

“Wait, there’s a 9:50 to Regan as well,” Langley adds.

“Or a 9:50 to Regan,” Mulder repeats.

“Take the 9:50,” Scully says.

Mulder is surprised, but doesn’t let it show.  Just that morning she had confided in him that she couldn’t wait to get out of San Diego and back home.  He starts to ask if she’s sure, but swallows back the question and presses his lips together instead.

“What’ll it be, man?” Langley asks.

“We’ll do the 9:50, Langley.”

“An excellent choice.  And I can get you first class, because I’m that good.”

“I’ll have you do all my bookings from now on.”

“Done and done.  You coming for enchiladas next week?”

“We’ll see.  Thanks for your help.”  Mulder disconnects the call before Langley can keep him on the phone any longer.

Scully has her head turned away from Mulder, her elbow on the armrest on the door and the nail of her index finger caught between her teeth.  He taps his fingers against the steering wheel for a few moments. The rain has increased, now a steady stream down the windows, kaleidoscoping the view to the outside.  He turns the windshield wipers on and they squeak obnoxiously as they smooth the water away.

“Thought it never rains in southern California,” he quips, putting the car in gear, although he has no idea where they’re headed to yet.

“It pours,” she murmurs, latching her seatbelt.  “Man, it pours.”

Part 2

He won’t call the drive aimless, but he has no end goal.  He figures he’ll head towards the airport and an idea will come to him along the way.  With the rain coming down, it’s hard to find a place to stop and Scully stays silent.  He’s drawn to the lights shining from a highrise that looms majestically in the distance.  It’s a Grand Hyatt hotel, probably nicer than every motel they’ve stayed in combined, and he considers it a shining beacon.  They need a place to stay and hotels have bars.  He pulls off the highway and into the carport.

They’re met by a valet and a porter.  The porter opens the door for Scully and she unbuckles her seatbelt with a glance to Mulder that he finds unreadable.  He can’t tell if she’s pleased or displeased, suspicious or not surprised.  The valet takes the car and the bellhop takes their bags ahead of them to the front desk.  The woman behind the check-in desk has a permanent smile that presents as fake as her press-on nails.

“Welcome to the Manchester Grand Hyatt,” she says, with a rehearsed upbeat tone.  “Do you have a reservation?”

“Uh, no,” Mulder answers.  “Looking for a double.”

“Would you like a city view or a bay view?”

Mulder takes a glance at Scully.  “Bay view?”

“We have a double queen available with a bay view, or a suite with a king bed and a queen pull-out couch.”

“The double is fine,” Scully says, at the same time Mulder answers, “we’ll take the suite.”

The smile on the clerk’s face doesn’t waver and her fingers stay poised above her keyboard.  Mulder settles any arguments that Scully may have by pulling out his wallet and sliding his credit card across the counter.

“The suite,” he says.  “You know I can’t resist a good couch.”

For just a few moments, Scully looks like she’s going to protest, but she closes her eyes and nods.  Mulder fills out the necessary paperwork and the clerk hands their keycards off to the bellhop that’s been waiting with their luggage.  They follow the younger man to the elevators and up to the 7th floor where he lets them into room 732 and then disappears after he’s transferred their bags from the luggage rack and Mulder hands him a tip.

“Well,” Mulder says, standing at the floor to ceiling windows with his hands in his pockets and looking out at the fog and gloom.  “So much for the bay view.”

“I’m going to change,” Scully murmurs, collecting her suitcase from where the bellhop left it.

“I’ll uh…find out what floor the bar is on.”

“Yes.”

“Unless you would rather just stay here and empty out the mini-fridge?”

“The bar,” she answers, closing the door to the bedroom behind her.

Mulder stares at the closed door for a few moments, rubbing the back of his head.  He takes off his slightly damp overcoat and drapes it over the back of one of the chairs by the window.  There’s a folder with a guide to the hotel amenities including room service and discounts for local attractions.  He finds a listing for dining options and locates the bar on the mezzanine level and then opens up his own suitcase to grab his own change of clothes.  He changes in small increments to avoid interruption, starting by trading his dress pants for jeans.  

He’s got his tie undone and his shirt unbuttoned when Scully comes out of the bedroom.  His mouth drops slightly in surprise at the unexpected little black cocktail dress she’s wearing.  It was form-fitting and above the knee.  The collar was high on her neck and the sleeves were made of lace.  She had heels on that were thinner and higher than what she normally wore.

“Uh…” he says, eyeing the black sweater waiting for him.  “I’m afraid I didn’t come prepared for a black tie event.”

Scully looks down at the dress and takes a moment to smooth the skirt down her hips.  “I was supposed to go to the symphony.  Obviously, that…fell through.”

“Well, you look…”  Mulder stops short in his appraisal.  There’s something about her posture, something about the defiant way she tilts her head back and lifts her eyes that tells him she is not looking for compliments, she’s simply trying to remove Special Agent Scully from the evening.  “You look like you could use a drink.”

She nods and turns away from him.  He faces the window as he finishes changing.

Part 3

She hasn’t said much since they slid into the high-backed leather seats in a corner booth at the back of the bar.  He’s only nursed one beer to her two shots of tequila and margarita over ice.  Under different circumstances he might have teased her about slowing down, but they’re not here to celebrate or for some light-hearted after work get-together.  She’s here to drown her sorrows and he’s here, he supposes, to throw her a life perseverer if she needs one.

“I’m angry with you,” she says, apropos of nothing.  The last thing she said to him was ten minutes ago and that was to answer that she wasn’t hungry when he asked if she wanted anything to eat.

“I’m angry with me too,” he says.

“No.”  She shakes her head.  “You don’t get to wallow or self-flagellate here.”

“I’m sorry that-”

“And you don’t get to apologize.  I don’t want your apology.”

“Okay,” he says, slowly.  “What…do you want?”

She stares intently at the table for a good while before she pushes her empty shot glasses towards Mulder.  “I want another shot,” she says.  

Mulder hesitates, but slides out of the booth after a moment and heads to the bartender.  He orders another shot of tequila and a beer to replace the one that’s gone warm on him.  He’s careful when he brings it back to the table, afraid he’ll drop the lime wedge on the side of the shot glass, but it stays put.  Scully throws it back right away without so much as a wince.

“Another,” she says.

“Don’t you think you-”

“Another.”

Mulder heads back to the bar.

Part 4

She’s not stumbling or giggling or loud or obnoxious, not a belligerent drunk by any means, but she’s still a little unsteady on her feet and Mulder has to help her from the booth.  He keeps her pulled up tight against his hip as they make their way to the elevator bank and she holds on to him with one arm around his waist.

Her eyes close as they ride up to their room and she sags against him.  He has to squeeze her hip and give her a little shake to rouse her when the doors open for their floor.  The walk down to the room feels endless, but they make it there in one piece and he has to release his hold on her to get the room key out of his pocket.  As soon as he lets go, she starts to crumble, knees bending and shoulders sagging.  He hoists her back up and brings her arm up around his neck so she won’t fall.

“Almost there,” he murmurs, pushing the door open wide with his foot and shuffling her inside.

The room is dark when the door swings shut behind them.  He fumbles for a light switch and Scully tries to break away from him, but trips, and the momentum pulls them both to the side.  Her back hits the wall and Mulder crashes into her.  She whimpers and he braces his hand above her head so he can push himself away.  She whimpers again and clutches his sweater with two fists at his waist.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Scully looks up at him and he can only see shimmery moonlight in her eyes.  Her hair has fallen across her left cheek and he pushes it back over her ear for her and then holds his hand to her cheek.  He can feel her tears slide through his fingers as she shakes her head.

“I want answers, Mulder,” she whispers.  “Answers that I’m never going to get.”

“I’m not giving up.”

“You kept things from me.”  She takes one fist and weakly pounds it against his chest as she starts to cry.  “How could you?”

He stands still and takes the soft blows to the chest, waiting for her to run out of steam.  It takes less than ten seconds and then she’s sobbing against him, her arms wrapped around his middle and her face pressed to her sternum.  He puts his arms around her, but he doesn’t say anything.  Anything he could say feels trite, so he just holds her and hopes it’s good enough.  

Her tears last longer than he’s ever experienced from her, and he’s pretty sure it’s the alcohol affecting her ability to quickly compose herself.  He doesn’t mind that her inhibitions are lowered, but it scares him a little.  It’s not that he’s worried about her falling apart on him, he’s worried she’ll regret letting him in come morning.  

She finally stops crying and her tears end with a sigh and a shiver.  She lifts her head and sniffles.  The side of her damp face that’s towards the window glows softly.  “Mulder…” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

For one fleeting moment, Mulder’s heart stops.  She tilts her head back and her wet lashes dip when she stares at his mouth.  He swallows, knowing he will have to reject her if she tries to make advances, not because he doesn’t want her, but because it’s not the right time.  He’s starting to wonder if there ever will be.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” she mumbles.

Part 5

Thank god for moonlight, is all Mulder can think as he hauls Scully to the bathroom.  He manages to get her there without bumping into any furniture, but she does lose a shoe somewhere along the way.  He supposes he can’t be blamed for that.

She heaves and coughs over the toilet bowl and Mulder tries to pull her hair back for her.  She groans and swats his hands away.  He finds the switch to the vanity lights built into the mirror above the sink and even the dim light feels harsh.  Her retching turns to coughs turns to spitting and then she grows quiet and limp beside the toilet.  He wets a washcloth with cold water, wrings it out, and then crouches down to drape the rag at the back of her neck.  She sucks in a breath and then sighs.

“Can I get you anything?” he asks.

She rolls her head back and forth with her eyes closed and then sighs again.  “Water?”

He stands and he’s about to fill one of the complimentary glasses from the sink, but thinks better of it and goes out into the front room to finally find the light switch and raid the mini-fridge.  There are four water bottles inside and he grabs them all.  He also opens up his suitcase and pulls out one of his t-shirts and sweatpants.  He’s seen what Scully sleeps in and he can’t imagine silk pajamas are that comfortable, even if she seems to like them.

Hands full, he returns to the bedroom and drops the t-shirt and sweatpants onto the bed.  He places three of the water bottles on the nightstand, turns the lamp on, and brings the last water bottle into the bathroom with him.  Scully is on her feet, hunched over the sink and patting her face with the damp washcloth.

“Water,” he says, sliding the bottle across the counter towards her.

“Thanks,” she murmurs and she stumbles slightly when she tries to straighten up, but catches herself on the sink.  He reaches out to steady her.  She guzzles about half of the water bottle down and gives him a weary glance as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand.  Her face is pale and blotchy, eyes puffy.  It breaks his heart a little.

“Come on.”  He gives her elbow a soft tug and leads her into the bedroom while she hugs the water bottle to her chest.

Scully sits down on the edge of the bed, plucking at the t-shirt Mulder left for her as he moves to the windows to close the drapes.  It’s still foggy and rainy out, but the moonlight shines brightly through.  When he turns, she’s back on her feet, scratching futilely at the zipper on her dress.

“Could you…?” she asks.

He nods and she drops her arms as he steps up behind her.  He finds the tiny pull for the zipper, hidden in the lace at the back of her neck and he draws it down carefully, afraid to snag the delicate fabric in some way.  When he exposes the clasp of her bra, he pauses and then pauses again when he catches a glimpse of her tattoo and sucks in a breath.  Scully turns her head back to look over her shoulder.

“Uh, all set,” he says, stepping back.

She pulls her arms free from the sleeves, but keeps the dress pressed to her chest as she picks up the t-shirt from the bed.  Somehow she manages to slip into the shirt and out of the dress and he never even caught a glimpse of anything he shouldn’t.  He picks up the crumbled dress from the floor as she curls up onto the bed and he drapes it over the top of her suitcase so it doesn’t wrinkle.  He stands in front of the bed for a few moments.

“Call me if you need me,” he says.

“Is there anything you still haven’t told me?” she asks.

He hesitates and then he sits down on the edge of the bed with his back to her, bringing his elbows to his knees and his head in his hands.  “I didn’t just find evidence that your ova had been stolen,” he says.  “I…found them.  In a government storage facility in Allentown.”

“What?”

“I took them directly to a specialist who could tell me if they were okay.  Scully, you were deathly ill at the time and I just couldn’t bear to bring you another piece of bad news.”

“Is that what it was?  Bad news?”

“The doctor told me that the ova weren’t viable.”

Scully is quiet.  Mulder twists his head to look back at her and she’s staring at the closed drapes.  “Where are they now?” she asks.

“I had them stored in a private facility.  It’s set up so that it can’t be traced.”

“I want a second opinion.”

“Scully-”

“Good night.”  She struggles to turn over, to put her back to him.  He hangs his head for a few moments and then stands.

“Good night,” he says, softly.  He closes the door behind him.

Part 6

Morning arrives slowly.  Mulder doesn’t sleep, just drifts in and out of consciousness at times as he lays on the pull-out couch.  Dark becomes gray becomes light in what feels like an eternity and yet, when he’s still empty of the perfect thing to say to make Scully feel better after a full night of contemplation, it comes too quickly.

He’s surprised when the door to the bedroom opens and Scully steps into the room, fully dressed in jeans and a light sweater with dark sunglasses covering her eyes.  He sits up, rubbing the bleariness from his eyes as she fiddles with the coffee maker in the corner and inspects the instant coffee packets in a basket beside it.

“Good morning,” he says.

Scully murmurs something that he can’t make out.  Maybe a good morning, maybe she just told him to piss off.  He scratches the back of his head and sighs.

“Room service?” he asks.  “Probably better than…whatever they’ve got going on in that basket over there.”

“Fine.”

Scully returns to the bedroom, but Mulder takes it as a positive sign that she’s left the room service order up to him.  He calls down and places an order for two coffees and half the breakfast menu, hoping she’ll be able to stomach the fruit and eggs and toast.  He gets dressed while waiting for everything to arrive and once it does, Scully takes the coffee and a plate of food back to the bedroom.  He eats alone, packs his bag, and then waits.

He’s at the window, watching sailboats drift by in the harbor when Scully comes to stand beside him.  She doesn’t say anything, not at first, just watches the boats with him.

“Sun’s out,” he says, unnecessarily, but after awhile, the silence eats at him.  “Back to normal, I guess.”  He turns to her, but she stares ahead, hiding behind her sunglasses.  “Scully, about-”

“If you ever keep anything like that from me again, we’re done.”

He nods and swallows.  “Okay.”

“I need answers, Mulder.  I’ll need your help.”

“Of course.”

She finally turns to him and he wishes he could see her eyes when she looks at him.  “There will never be a normal again,” she says, before she turns and walks away.

Mulder looks back out the window, annoyed there’s not even a cloud to be seen in the clear blue sky.

The End

#i wrote this #x-files fanfic #angst #tiny bit of an AU #please note I mentioned ANGST ahead of time

[urimaginespimp]

Dare Coupons and Wrong Ideas

2nd and last part of A Naked Nurse and Wrong Ideas (Read this first to know what’s going on)

Bucky x Reader + Avengers still thinking you slept together

A/N: I didn’t expect a lot of you would enjoy the first part so as requested, here’s a follow up!

--------

When you woke up, you were alone in your room, and it was already the next day. You only have small recollections of Bucky constantly checking your temperature, feeding you soup, and making you take medicine.

Your cheeks flushed at the memory that he had to only be in his boxer briefs because your AC had to be off or else you would’ve frozen to death.

Plugging your phone as the battery was about to drain, you saw that it had numerous messages from the team – some were saying congratulations to you and Bucky, Wanda was asking you for details, Sam was thanking you for making him 50 bucks richer, and Tony was saying you owe him money.

You didn’t think finally getting along with Bucky was that big of a deal for everyone. Chuckling, you decided to hop in the shower before getting some breakfast.

--------

“I told you, nothing happened.” Bucky was scowling at Sam who was ignoring him for the nth time that morning.

“I remember you also insisting you didn’t like Star Wars, then I caught you ordering Baby Yoda merchandise on Amazon. So, forgive me if I’d rather hear about what we saw yesterday from your new girlfriend.” Sam smirked, not looking up from his phone.

The rest of the team in the kitchen snickered. They were not giving him the chance to explain himself since he got there. Steve has warned them that he’s prone to lie and get defensive when he’s embarrassed.

Huffing in annoyance like a child, he sunk in his seat thinking of ways he could convince them that he was telling the truth, when you finally appeared.

“Good morning.” You mumbled a small greeting and made your way to the cupboards to get some cereal. He noted that you look a lot better than yesterday, and that you just showered.

Heading to the table, bowl in your hands, Nat gestured for you to sit between her and Wanda, and across from Steve, Clint, and Tony. Taking your seat, you scanned who else was on the long dining table, and your eyes landed on Bucky who was five seats away from Steve, and next to him was Sam, and Peter.

You gave Bucky a small smile as a thank you, mentally noting that you had to thank him personally in private later. But unbeknownst to you, the rest of the team took this as a “moment” and were exchanging meaningful looks, except for Tony.

Bucky returned the smile, grateful that you were finally here to clear things up for everyone and prove that he was telling the truth. But then Sam just had to be a villain.

“Hey tinman. I still have 3 dare coupons from you last Christmas. Now I dare you to keep your mouth shut for the rest of the morning.” He said in a low voice, raising his brows when Bucky was about to protest.

“Fine.” he huffed.

“All’s clear!” Sam said loudly, making you jump a little from your seat. What was that about?

“So... Y/N.” Steve started speaking, making you look up to him. “Bucky, huh? Who knew?”

“I know, right?” you smiled at him. So, you and Bucky finally getting along was that big of a deal for them. Maybe it was for team morale.

Nat cleared her throat before turning to you with a grin. “Sam, Steve, and I went to your room yesterday to check on you after FRIDAY said you haven’t been out of your room all morning. And uh, well a partially dressed Bucky greeted us.”

Looking across you again, Steve, Clint and Tony were also looking at you expectantly. You get how it must’ve been confusing why he had to take care of you in only his boxer briefs.

“Oh, I was actually the one who told him to just take it off. It was just getting too hot for him.” You shrugged and missed how Peter spat milk from his seat, and Sam telling him to keep it together.

“So how was he?” Wanda couldn’t keep herself from sounding too eager to know. You raised a brow in confusion at her but answered.

“Honestly, I didn’t know he could be that gentle.” You thought back to how Bucky was gentle and patient in taking care of you.

“Oh wow.” Wanda responded; eyes wide.  Steve was turning red and was now avoiding making eye contact.

Bucky was smirking from his seat. At first, he thought it was going to be more embarrassing for him, but now he was actually enjoying how the team was torn between wanting to know more, and trying to spare themselves the visuals of their friends going at it.

“How would you uh... rate him.” Wanda asked again, making Vision nudge her for the question.

“Well, it did seem like he knew what he was doing. I’d say he has a lot of experience. I'd give it a ten.” You nodded at her, smiling at the thought of how the brooding guy could’ve once been the main caretaker for his sick siblings.

Bucky coughed to mask him laughter, making Sam glare at him.

“How are you now? Is the soreness gone?” It almost pained Clint to even ask that, but he knew everybody else was dying to ask.

“I’m still a bit sore, and my throat does hurt a little still, but nothing some more rest would get rid of.” you shrugged.

Tony turned his attention to Bucky, glaring. “Might have to ask him for tips then.” Clint replied, clearing his throat.

“There’s a kid here, you guys. Keep it down.” Steve warned all of you, referring to how Peter was also in the room, listening to the entire conversation.

“What, I think Pete here could also get some tips.” You replied. Why wouldn’t Steve want Peter to know how to take care of sick people? It’s not like it’s entirely different from how they do it today.

Sam choked on his toast, and it was now Peter's turn to mockingly tell him to keep it together.

“Let me just ask this. Is this a one-time thing?” It was now Tony’s time to ask. He’s always treated you like a daughter, so he wasn’t a big fan of you and Bucky getting together.

You didn’t think Tony was gonna be mad at you for getting sick. This hurt you a little, but you understand that it was your own stupidity that got you sick in the first place. It would’ve been bad if you had to miss a mission.

“I hope so? I really don’t want to miss any missions because I can barely move any muscles. I’m sorry, Tony.” You gave him a guilty look. “But it’s nice to know I could count on Bucky whenever I need any help.” You continued.

The rest of the team, shifted in their seats from cringing at what you just said.

Sam turned to a smirking Bucky. “You’re disgusting.” he said to him.

You finally turned your attention to Bucky. “Anyway, I never got to thank you this morning because when I woke up you were gone.” you smiled at him.

“WHAT?” Nat spoke loudly from beside you.

“You left before she woke up?!” Tony exclaimed. Steve glared at his friend, disappointed that he’d do such thing. The rest of the team were also scowling at him.

“It’s no big deal you guys, he had to stay up all night.” you defended Bucky, making him shake in his seat from now full-on laughing.

“You think this is funny, Barnes?!” Tony got up from his seat to stalk towards him. You got up as well to diffuse the situation.

“Woah, woah, woah. Why are you guys so mad at him?” you asked, standing beside Bucky who was still losing his shit on his seat.

“We know he’s been crushing on you, but he can’t just sleep with you and leave you like that!” Tony was all red from anger.

You paused from where you were standing to take in what he meant. And when it finally sank in why they were all acting so strange, you joined Bucky in laughter.

You rested your hand on Bucky’s shoulder for support, tears brimming your eyes from laughing too hard.

The team was now looking at you both in confusion.

“You thought we slept together?” You asked in between laughter.

“Well, what the hell could all of this have meant?!” Clint asked from his seat.

“I was sick and Bucky was nursing me.” you explained, composing yourself.

“Why was he in his underwear then? Because I do not need to know that you guys were role playing.” Sam interjected, a sour look on his face.

“My AC was off because I was too cold. I got sick because I raced you under a thunderstorm the night before, remember?” you said looking at Sam.

Collective Ohs were heard in the room.

--------

That afternoon, you were peacefully reading a book on your bed when you heard small knocks on your door.

“Come in.” you said out loud.

The door opened softly and Bucky came in with a smile on his face. “Hey, doll. How are you feeling?”

“I’m actually doing a lot better, Buck. Why, are you planning to strip off to your undies if I were sick again?” you joked, patting on a space infront of you on the bed.

“If you wanted me to so badly, all you have to do is ask, Y/N.” He chuckled and sat in front of you.

“Our friends are ridiculous.” You laughed, thinking back to what happened this morning.

“I know.” He nodded. “They got one thing right though.” he smiled at you again.

“And that is...?”

“I have been crushing on you.” He admitted, his cheeks turning a tinge of pink.

“So, I was right to tease you before.” you smiled smugly.

“Shut up.” he looked down, feeling your sheets in between his fingers.

“If it makes you feel any better, I am attracted to you too.” you admitted, and a boyish smile stretched on his lips.

“Was you being sick all a ploy to get me in my underwear?” he teased, and you smacked him playfully with a pillow near you. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

A comfortable silence passed, both of you just grinning, avoiding eye contact.

“You know, I never got to properly thank you for taking care of me.” You broke the silence.

“How could you ever repay me?” he asked in an exaggerated tone.

“Would a kiss from your crush, suffice?” you teased again, wiggling your brows playfully.

“Hey, you just said you like me too!” He defended himself. “But, yes.” he smiled sheepishly.

“Fine.” you playfully rolled your eyes before leaning in.

His lips were softer than you expected, and you could tell that he was smiling. Pulling you closer to him, both of you were getting carried away from what was supposed to be a quick peck, and missed to hear the creak from your door opening.

“I knew it!” A booming voice cut you both off. Head snapping to the doorway, Sam was standing there with a smug look on his face before leaving and letting the entire compound know that you were both lying that morning.

“Who’s gonna believe us now?” you let out a soft chuckle.

“I guess I have to ask you out on a date now, huh.” Bucky was grinning at you, playfulness lacing his tone.

“Oh, how inconvenient for you.” you gave his lips a quick before finally moving away, giggling.

--------

Tag list:

@lizzarooni @intothesoul

Special tag bc they asked for pt 2:

@coffeebooksandfandom @harrystylesandthegoobs

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HAVE A GREAT DAY!

#bucky #bucky angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fic recs #bucky fluff #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #avengers #avengers au

[diedbutterflies69]

Cars- Bang Chan imagine

Contains: explicit sexual contact, chan as hot rich hotel owner, car sex, slight degradation, blowjob, fingering, etc

Minors don't interct.

Working in one of the most expensive hotels in the country was something you never expected. You were just a normal student who was struggling to meet deadlines and pay for tuitions and so doing many part time jobs. A law student washing dishes in random restaurant and drooling over food, observing the way those chefs used to work with wok , deep fried food, the process fascinated you so much. Even though you were familiar with cooking since a young age it was rather more like responsibility, a chore. And that's how you learned cooking by slowly observing the chefs and utube videos, as changing the entire career dreams at the last year was little too wild and impossible. But struggles eventually leads to happiness, the owner of one of the restaurant you used to work at got surprisingly close with you ,her name lucy a single divorced hot milf she thaught you many skills and tricks with cooking. Your last straw before quitting the law school was getting failed . And just like that a blessing in disguise. She noticed how dishearted you were and then decided to give you the greatest opportunity in your life.

Working in God's menu was every chef's dream, and Lucy made your dream come true. The owner and main chef of God's menu Bang Chan was close with Lucy and just by that using some connections you got yourself inside that paradise, but Chan was a total boomer with you, he didn't wanted to give you job at the first place as you lacked experience and knowledge but he valued friendships way too much to deny Lucy.

Chan was always hard on you, constantly making you work with him, teaching the mystery behind flavours, making you memorize foreign cuisine recipes, you sweared you didn't even struggled that much in law school as there was no one lecture you and expect from you. He acted all tough just to make you perfect and eventually became close, you fell in the pit of one sided love the moment Chan agreed to hire you. What you adored most about Chan was how he always made sure to not make you panic while being near fire, never told you to hurry while cutting vegetables. His this small gestures meant so much too you. And in span of 7 months that baby was finally your boyfriend. Chan was someone who followed his heart and just like that, he confessed in the most cheesiest way possible. And here you are today a great chef with lot of knowledge and a handsome, caring and loving boyfriend. 3 years of loving relationship.

"baby~~ " you said while hugging your boyfriend from the back who was too invested in making a 4 tower cake for his best friend's wedding even though he wasn't much experienced with baking whatever he tried doing was no less than perfection.

"yes, baby? Need anything?", Chan asked you. Even though you have been listening to his sweet honey voice since years it never failed to make your heart flutter.

"stop working now, it's 2:30 am let's go home now", you whined slightly tipping on toes and kissing Chan's neck. Getting a small hum from your boyfriend.

"just few more minutes babe", Chan said turning back and softly giving pecking your forehead . You huffed in response being too tired of your boyfriend's night owl tendencies, you went back to the table and singing a good night in most extra way possible. Chan just smiled at his girlfriend, he too wanted to go home and just cuddle with you but work was trash .

Finally looking at clock it was 3 :15 something, his work finally done. After cleaning up every thing,washing the dishes and shoving the massive cake into refrigerator carefully, Chan happily made his way to you. He too saying baby~ in most extra way possible, he was an true night owl no matter how much he worked at nights without you being by his side he wasn't able to fall asleep. A habit he picked up 3 years ago.

"get up, it's 5 am", Chan whispered into your ear while aggressively moving you to make you leave your dreamland.

"aggh, good morning the love of my life", you said slowly leaving your subconscious world. Even in slight unconscious mind you were flirty and cheesy.

"good morning, it's 5 A.M ", Chan again told you a wrong time just messing up with you.

"what the fuck", you yelled being angry on your boyfriend's crazy work habits , you were glaring at him till he bought his his wrist infront of your face . His watch reading 3 : 08 , being confused and worried for your wrong vision you looked at the wall clock that to read 3:07 am.finally realising you have been scammed.

" you fucking lier", you yelled at Chan for pranking you, but you were glad that he finished the work soon.

"heheh", Chan laughed, he was too cute for you.

"let's just go home", you said trying to keep a poker face, packing your stuff then gripping Chan's hand and walking out of the space.

Going down through the elevator, Chan unleashing his 50 shades enthusiast.

"What is it about elevators?" Saying this and immediately pulling you into a deep kiss, he tasted like chocolate probably from the previous cake flavours, his tongue feeling so good while exploring your mouth, one hand at the back of your neck and the other interlocked with yours. His lips always felt like heaven.

He broke the kiss as the door opened, he adjusted your hair and outfit and locking his eyes with you giving you a warm smile, fully a contradiction to his previous action. This man's duality always suprised you.

"let's go baby~", Chan said getting out of elevator with you, hands interlocked moving back and forth, if someone saw you both they would probably think that you both are possessed, smiling and jumping like kids finally reached the car.

"let me open the door for you", Chan said with a smirk while opening the car door for you , there was not a single human present in the parking lot, creepy vibes but perfect for your both future activities. Chan entered the car and stared at you in the most innocent way possible.

"what?", You asked him giving him the same innocent eyes.

"babe, the kiss made me hard", Chan admitted almost shamelessly his eyes pointing at his pants , and yes it was a great hot site too notice.

"will you melt, till we reach home?", You asked Chan looking into his eyes hands slowly creeping to his thighs dangerously close to the not so safe zone.

"I would rather burst here than melt till we reach home", Chan said holding your hand bringing it straight over his memeber, you blushed deeply at his actions.

"Come on babe, we had done Car sex multiple times", Chan said making you blush and wet down there even more. You got a little too needy as the memories of Chan fucking you ruthlessly on the back site of the car came to your mind. Your hand still palming his cock through pants.

"hop on the backseat", you said almost breathlessly, Chan smirking at your needy , horny State. You both went on the backseat to make a great mess over there .

"aaah" , you moaned loudly as Chan slapped your left boob while sucking your neck. His teeth never failed at marking you all over, his touch was heaven especially whenever he squeezed the back of your neck or roughly groped those boobs. Detaching himself from your neck he gripped your neck in an erotically painful way and forcing you on your knees.

"Suck, use that mouth atleast one time for a good cause", Chan said , his degrading voice mixed with heavy lust. Nodding at his words , without wasting any time you bought your hands to undid his belt and zipper . Palming him through his boxers and finally releasing it from all restraints, you slowly put hs cock inside your mouth, he was really really hard. A fucking long and thick cock he had, you not being able to take him even half way as the position was slightly painful but nevertheless you started bopping your head up and down and palming the remaining with your hands. His loud groans and moans indicated that he was satisfied enough, you increased your speed, occassionally hollowing your cheeks to take him deeper every time. He gripped your head as he was close , he started to move your mouth as he pleased making you gag non stop, it hurted but you liked it so much. " You feel so fucking good, all mine", Chan said breathlessly after a final thrust and empting himself inside your mouth, his cum feeling your mouth in escasty. You sucked off every single drop not wasting anything.

Chan lifted you up from the car floor and made you sit on his lap. You looking fully fucked out, with clothes misplaced and mouth dripping with saliva and his liquid , black mascara tears running down.

"My precious slut", Chan said while making his way to your panties, your jeans were already removed a long ago.

"you want my fingers? Hmm?" Chan said as his fingers were slowly entering your pussy , his cold hands making you shiver .

"yes please sir" , you begged voice laced up with pure desperation and needily grinding on his fingers and thighs. Chan smirked again at you.

"what you want more, my fingers or my cock?" Chan made gave you 2 choices both of them heaven.

"your cock, sir please" You begged again. He finally smiles at you pure ill intention smile.

"Since you are too good girl, I should give you whatever you want", Chan said and finally bought his cock towards your tight leaking cunt slowly entering himself inside you.

"ride", Chan said and you felt like being on cloud nine. Slowly moving your hips up and down in decent speed . His cock fitted so well inside of you, it was pure bliss for you.

But without a warning Chan bought his hands towards your clit and pinching it making your whole body jolt in overstimulation.

" babe,you are too good, so deserve my fingers too", Chan said with a sadistic smile.

It's gonna be a long morning.

#skz smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #bangchan #bangchan smut #skz #skz chan x reader #chan smut