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xxblairexxss · 9 months

Text

A fresh start (p.2)

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x singlemom!reader

Theme : Tiny bit of angst, fluff

Word count : 4.7k

Part 1

In which Charles had a crush on the new member of the team without knowing he was already a good friend of her toddler.

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"Charlie! Charlie! Charlie!"

Joris cackled as he heard the tiny voice come from outside the room. His phone was no longer interesting as he threw a couch pillow to his sleeping friend on the couch, making him grumble and turn his position to the side.

“Charles,” Joris called out.

The driver hummed, his eyes still shut.

"Your little friend is looking for you.” Joris tilted his head when a soft knock came from the door along with the tiny voice, the same one that had been calling his friend from the garage.

"Charlie? Is there anyone inside?"

"Come in, Adam.” To that, the door slowly creaked open as the little kid walked in. He was holding a cute-looking carnosaurus in his small hand and peeked inside to find the friend he was looking for asleep.

"Oh? Charlie’s sleeping!"

Joris stifled his laugh as Adam started tiptoeing inside the room with his pointy finger against his pouty lips. "It’s okay; just talk like you normally do. Charles could sleep through an earthquake. Why are you looking for him?"

He scrambled his way on the couch with full struggle without letting go of the toy in his hand before he finally replied to Joris’ question. "I want to show Charlie my new watch! Look! It has a dinosaur on it!"

"Mommy bought it?” Joris queried.

"No. Daddy bought it! It’s my first gift from him!” He giggled and squirmed when Charles softly poked at his waist as he slowly got out of his drowsy, somnolent state. "Charlie’s awake!"

"Charles, I’m heading out for a while. See you, Adam. Make sure Charlie doesn’t fall asleep anymore. He has work to do.”

Adam waved to Joris as he made his way out as Charles sat up, yawning from his short nap.

"Bye bye, Joris! Charlie, look!" Adam nearly punched him in the face with his enthusiasm. That would have knock the sleepiness out of him right away. The driver then focused on the watch Adam has been excited to show to him. It was a kids watch in blue with a picture of a dinosaur.

"That’s so cool! Did you go out with your dad?” He grasped the tiny wrist and scanned through the details of the watch.

"We didn’t because daddy was busy, but he bought me a gift!” Adam cupped on his own cheeks and swayed his body left and right, remembering what it felt like to hang out with his dad forever.

"My watch is cool too. Look." It was Charles’ turn to show his as he extended his arm, a cocky smile was plastered on his face.

"Yours doesn’t have a dinosaur like mine!”

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"Hey." He sneaked closer behind your back and leaned down, whispering in your ear. Charles had been trying to find you all alone so he could spend some time with you, but you were either hooked by a group meeting or had to be accompanied by a few other colleagues.

"Hi! Are you looking for Adam? He’s back at the hotel early with my colleague." You closed the door as he followed behind.

"No, I’m looking for you. You are not ignoring me, are you? Because I haven’t seen you since Friday."

"No?" You laughed as you saw him nearly slipped down the stairs as you turned back. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Almost died there.”

You then stopped in your tracks so he could walk with your pace by your side. "I’m not ignoring you. There were a lot of things I needed to get done before next month. Congratulations on the points, by the way!” You turned your body, facing the driver, as your ponytail swayed along.

"Thank you. It could have been podium if I got to see your face before the race." He cackled as you pulled a face at his flirty attempts. "Oh, Adam told me his dad took him out. You told me they had never spent time together. Why all of a sudden?"

The grin on your face was washed off instantly as you pressed your lips into a thin line. This whole thing about your ex-husband was never ending. "I..forced him to. Adam heard kids his age talk about going out with their dads, and he asked me what it was like. His dad kept on telling me he didn’t have money to take Adam out, so I gave him the money only for him to keep most of it for himself."

"So he didn’t actually take Adam out? Give me that.” You handed him the files and laptop bag you had been holding as he took them, leaving you with free hands.

"No. I found out later on that Adam told me he was busy, so they hung out in his house eating takeout while he watched a football match.”

"Adam seemed to be fully satisfied with it, though." He remembered the brightest smile he saw soon as he opened his eyes from his afternoon nap yesterday.

"He just wanted to spend time with him. I don’t know, Charles. I feel like…" It felt so hard to come up with any words that could explain your feelings. You wanted to say you wished you hadn’t made a decision to marry him, but you couldn’t imagine your life without Adam. "I feel like I failed at giving him the life he deserved."

"Don’t say that. Just because he was an irresponsible parent doesn’t mean you fail at doing your part.” He saw you asked for your stuffs and was hesitant to give them because his actual plan was to ask you to go back with him.

"I don’t know. Sorry for ruining the mood. I better get going.” You took back your stuff and were heading towards your friend when he tugged on your wrist.

"Will you be at home this week?"

You turned around and looked at him in confusion. "Yeah. Why?"

“I just wanted to drop by."

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"Mommy, Charlie is here”! Adam tugged his little arm from your grip while you were trying to fix his hair, and he scampered, a little wobbly with his unlace shoes to get the door.

"Adam!" You yelled out and heard his little voice apologise for leaving you as he struggled to unlock the door.

"I can't—Charlie, I can’t open the door! Oh, it’s open!” He stepped back as Charles peeped in, making the little one laughed. "Your head looks like it’s floating!"

"Hey, munchkin!" He bent down and cradled his little friend’s head as Adam hugged his legs.

"Mommy said I should get ready because you are picking me up. Where are we going, Charlie? Mommy won’t tell me.” He shook his foot as the shoelaces flailing around him made him giggle.

"It’s a secret. You’ll know when we get there.” Charles crouched down and tied the shoelaces before he ran back to you.

"Mommy’s really not coming?"

You shook your head and continued fixing his fluffy hair as he leaned against your chest. "No. It’s just you and Charlie. I’ll be at home."

"Is it okay to leave mommy alone?"

Your heart melted at his worried face as he leaned away from hugging you. "I’ll be all fine, honey. I’ll call Charlie right away if I need any help."

"No! Don’t call Charlie! Call me!" He patted his chest proudly at the suggestion.

"You don’t have any phones, sweetheart.” You laughed and patted his belly.

"I’m using the same phone number as Charlie. Right, Charlie?" Adam looked up and pulled Charles’ finger to get him to back him up.

"Oh, yes! Ring me, and Adam will be the one saying hi.” Charles beamed at the sight of the little one attacking you with kisses before he made his way.

"Let’s go, Charlie!” He held Charles’s pinky finger as both of them made their way to the door, with you following behind.

"Are you sure you don’t mind taking him out?” You voiced your worry, though it was the driver’s idea in the first place. "I don’t want you to feel obligated just because we like each other.”

"It’s a casual hangout day between friends, right, Adam? Don’t worry about it too much, Y/N. I was the one who wanted to take him out. He—"

"Charlie, let’s go! He yelled out.

You gave Charles’ arm a squeeze as Adam pulled him to step out of the house. "You should go now. He’s all handsome and excited."

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"Charlie! Look at that!” He pointed at the long-neck creature on the left, which made Charles arch his brows.

It turned out Adam’s knowledge of dinosaurs wasn’t just ‘dinosaurs’. He knew every single one ever since they stepped inside the dinosaur land whole Charles had to continuously read every board so he could figure out the names.

"What is his name?” Adam blinked and waited for an answer eagerly.

"Oh? The name? I’m not—I'm not sure about that, buddy. Give me a second.” Charles went in front of the board as he scanned through the paragraphs. "It’s cama—what even is this? Camarasaurus?"

"I thought it was Isisaurus! It looked really similar!” Adam stared at the big, life-sized dinosaur sculptures in amazement.

“Isi—whatever the name was, does it have a long neck like this one too?” Charles was pretty sure this was the 50th dinosaur’s name that had ever come out of that little mouth, yet not only he remembered nothing, he could barely repeat any of them.

"Yes! But it’s not as tall as Brachiosaurus!” He squealed and ran a little far, joining a few groups of kids as the sculptures made another round of noise.

"Yeah, my brain is definitely shutting down.” He mumbled and fished out his phone, joining the little one as he looked up at a different-looking sculpture. "Adam, I’m sending a picture to mommy. Smile!"

"Charlie, wait! Can I show my watch too?” He made a little hop and fixed his watch as he lifted his forearm up to the side of his cheeky face, which melted Charles’ heart from the cuteness.

"There you go! I’m sending this one to mommy, yeah?" He chose the most recent picture and clicked on the send button, as it was ticked as delivered right away.

"Tell mommy I miss her too!"

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"Adam said he misses you."

"Also, how is he so smart? He kept on throwing dinosaurs’ names left and right without even seeing the board. I have never felt so humiliated in my life."

"Everything is just dinosaurs to me. I don’t think they deserve a name."

You cackled at the texts you got. When Charles took Adam out, you decided to get your hair done as well as a fresh set of nails with your girlfriends. You hadn’t seen your friends for a while, and it was really fun to be able to catch up with them, updating on whatever happened in each other’s lives. You smiled fondly as your thumb traced the picture of your son on your phone screen, showing off his little watch.

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"Hi, mommy!" Charles handed the little one a paper bag full of new dinosaurs with different shapes and sizes of boxes that were equally big as his frame after you opened the door.

"Look! Charlie bought me new toys!"

You gasped as you peeked inside the bag. "That’s a lot! Charles—"

"It’s okay. He only asked for one, but I wanted him to get the others as well because they are actually pretty cool. Right, Adam? There was this one that flipped its tail, like,”

"Ankylosaurus! The tail can actually move, mommy!” Adam interrupted, and his eyes sparkled with merriment.

"Yeah, whatever that rus was.” Charles scratched the back of his neck as he shrugged. He had given up trying to remember the name because, looking back, they all sounded the same. He was pretty sure he could just throw random words and end it with saurus, and he would get a new dinosaur’s name. While he was too busy recalling the names, you leaned in and left a peck on his cheek, which made him freeze.

"Thank you." You brought your gaze down and locked eyes with Adam as he giggled.

"I think Charlie really likes you, mommy!"

"Okay, buddy. There’s no need to say my feelings out loud.” He laughed as the little one ran to his room. The paper bag swayed and hit his body. "I hope I make his day.”

"Are you kidding? That’s all he’s going to talk about for the rest of the week.” You laughed along, and hands went on his chest as he pulled you closer.

"What did you do today? Did you do something to your hair?"

You brought your hands up and hovered them over your eyes. "I got my hair trimmed and my nails done. What do you think?"

"It’s pretty. Is pretty the right word to compliment nails?” He queried, brows knitted. "It compliments your beautiful eyes so much. Oh, I’ll be going back to Monaco tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t want to tag along until the next race? It’ll only be what, 4 days?

"No, I’m going to my parents’ house tomorrow. They haven’t seen Adam for a while. I’ll see you in the paddock?"

"Call me, alright?” Charles brushed his lips on your forehead and bended down as Adam ran back to his embrace. "See you in my next race, Adam."

"Bye, Charlie! I’ll take care of mommy for you!" He cupped Charles’ cheeks with his little hands.

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"I got it!” You heard Adam’s voice beat on you as he rushed to open the door.

You put your folded clothes aside and left the bedroom while he struggled to pull the big door with the doorbell ringing continuously.

"Daddy!" He managed to eagerly greet the adult before his little body was pushed aside as your ex-husband stamped inside with a scowl on his face.

"Fuck off. Where’s that bitch?"

"What is wrong with you?!” You howled and tried to walk past him to get to your son, who was on the floor, sobbing as he clutched his wrist.

"Me? What’s wrong with me, you asked? Tell me why my son’s face is all over the internet hanging out with a random guy. Are you fucking insane? Weren’t you the one who fucking begged to have full custody over him, and then what? You woke up one day leaving my fucking son with your douchebag just so you could what? Get these done?” He yanked your hair harshly as you yelped from the pain. "You trying to use all these to flirt your way just so you fill up that hole with fresh sticks?"

"Daddy, stop! You are hurting, mommy!” Adam stood back on and used every force to hit on your ex-husband’s leg just so he would let go of you.

"This isn’t about you! Fuck off, worthless.” He swung back his free arm and landed his hand on the flushed cheeks as Adam fell down on his bump.

"Leave him alone! Hit me all you want. Don’t touch him! Please.." You tugged on his arm back as you went in front to kneel down on the floor and cradled Adam’s head in your arms. His small arms immediately clung to your shirt as he hid his face away from his dad.

"Next time I’m seeing him hanging out with someone else, you’ll be dead. I’m still alive and capable enough to be his father. I don’t need someone else to take over my fucking role.” He gave your head a hard shove before he left as Adam wailed and whimpered in your arms. He had never cried this terrible before. He was trembling, even, that you had to calm him down until he fell asleep.

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"Where are you going?” Andrea curved his brow as the driver left the meeting right as it ended, without even sparing a glance at anyone else.

"I’m going to see Adam. He should have come and met me hours ago, but I don’t think I have seen him at all. I’ll be right back.” He took his phone and paced to the room where the kid would usually hang out with his colouring books.

Charles softly knocked on the door and waited for a response, which didn’t come. He then twisted the knob and took a step inside, where he saw Adam with the dinosaurs he bought for him a few days ago, all scattered on the table. Though the setting was normal, it was actually unusual because the kid didn’t call his name and didn’t come dashing into him as he usually did. Charles also didn’t get any candy from him today.

"Hey, Adam! What are you doing?” He took a spot next to the little one as Adam handed him one of the toys, one with a fierce-looking face.

"Hi, Charlie.. You can take this one.” Adam’s voice trailed off as he rested his chin on his forearm, completely ignoring the driver.

"What’s the name of this one?” The driver twisted the head of the dinosaur so it would be facing left before placing it on the table.

"That’s Spinosaurus.."

"Adam, what’s wrong?" Charles ruffled the toddler’s hair to get his attention, which was working as Adam whirled his head to look at Charles. "You are not wearing your watch! Where is it?"

"It’s in my bag.." Adam rubbed his eyes and turned around to look at his blue backpack that was placed on the couch.

"Go get it! Let me help you put it on.” He patted on the flushed cheeks as the kid scooted away from the table and he tottered to get his bag, the. took his spot back beside the driver with the backpack covering half of his face. Charles helped him to open the bag as the chubby little arm fished inside it to get the watch.

The driver’s eyes widen when he sees the state of the watch. The acrylic glass watch was cracked; a few bits of the glass at the corner were long gone, revealing little holes straight to the numbers and watch hands with a dinosaur picture. The watch wasn’t even working anymore. It was clearly dead, as it was still pointed at 12PM. “What happened to your watch, Adam?"

The little one didn't say anything, but he started wiping the back of his chubby hands against his cheeks as the tears started flowing down uncontrollably.

"Did you fall? What happened?"

"Daddy…" He struggled to form any words and started sobbing; his shoulders shook as he breathed in. Charles pulled the little arms away from the crimson face, tugging on it as Adam stood up so Charles could hold the trembling little frame in his arms. "Daddy.."

"Charles, you need to get ready.” Andrea peeked his head inside and closed the door back as he ran back to the garage.

"Adam—" Charles breathed out.

Adam pulled away and wiped his wet eyes with his forearms before the adult could continue his sentence. "Good luck, Charlie!” He managed to form a smile and make a little fist which was still a little shaky as he silently wept

"I’ll find you back in here after the practise round, alright?” He wiped off the stray tears and softly pinch on the cheeks, which made the little one giggle.

"Look!" He stumbled back to his little friends and arranged them all to face drivers, stopping time to time to wipe off the tears and clapped his hands as he was completely satisfied with the presentation. "They said good luck to you too!"

"I’ll definitely ace the practise round for you and your... um, rausus friends. Don’t cry, alright? See you, munchkin.”

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"Adam, we are going back, sweetheart.” You walked to him and kissed the crown of his head as you took his backpack.

"But," He stood up and filled his arms with the row of reptile toys as he tilted his head to look at you. "But Charlie asked me to wait for him, mommy."

"I thought you were hungry, love. We are going to eat.” You bent down so he could stuff his toys inside the backpack.

"It’s okay, I’m not hungry! I can wait for Charlie.” He gave a little thumbs up and chuckled when you laughed.

"Alright, then. We’ll wait for Charlie."

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"Charlie!" Adam squealed when Charles walked in, around half an hour after.

"Hi! Oh, you are all packed?” He ruffled Adam’s hair and smiled as his gaze landed on you on the couch.

"We are going to eat! Can Charlie join us, mommy?” His small hand was secured in Charles’ grip as he grinned cheekily at you.

"I can’t, Adam. I need to stay back a little while because I have things to do, but I’ll see you in a few hours. Is it okay?” He looked up to you, silently waiting for your approval, as he didn’t want to bother if you wanted to rest.

"Of course. I’m sure Adam doesn’t mind. Right, Adam?" The end of your mouth tilted as you looked at the little one while you took the lead, walking out of the room, followed by the boys.

"Yes! Oh! Charlie, were you fast?” Adam stopped walking as he waited for Charles’s answer.

"What do you mean? Ah, the practise round? Yeah! I got first place thanks to you."

"And my friends!” He jumped out of excitement; the sound of the toys shaking against each other could be heard as the backpack moved.

"Yeah! And you too.” Charles winked at you, which made you roll your eyes with a beam.

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"Hey, pretty. Mind if I take Adam out?” Charles went straight away with his question the minute you opened the door to your hotel room.

"Right now?" You blinked.

"Yeah, just for a while. We’ll be back before dinner. Just text me what you want to eat.” Friday wasn’t as packed as other days. He normally would stay in his room to take enough rest before another practise and qualifying round tomorrow, but he spent hours trying to find the closest store on Google, and the nearest was just a few minutes away so it would be a waste to miss this chance because he knew he wouldn’t be free by tomorrow, moreover on the actual race day.

"Adam?" You called out, opening the door a little wider.

"Yes, mommy?" Adam came running, his voice a little shaky from his wobbly cheeks.

"Charlie is taking you out for a while. Is it okay for you?” Your hand went to the back of his head as he hugged your leg. You saw his face light up as he waved at Charles.

"Okay!" He agreed right away and grasped Charles’ hand. "But where are we going?"

"Somewhere. Let’s go before it’s closed!"

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Charles looked down as he heard Adam giggled. "Charlie, look at that! The puppy is so cute!” He giggled again, and his steps became more leisure as he waited for the fluff to walk past him. "The tail was like,” He shook his free hand vigorously to imitate the tail, which made Charles throw his head back and laugh and they continued walking.

"Oh! There’s flowers!" He pointed at the flower shop in front of him, seemingly to be very intriguing to the little one, as he stopped and tugged on the driver’s hand. "Can I buy one, Charlie?"

"But what? The flowers?" Charles looked at the flower shop in front of him and back at the kid.

"I want to buy one for mommy! Oh, wait..." He patted his small hand against the pocket of his pants and pursed his lips. "I don’t have any money..”

"Let’s go." He took the lead and went into the shop as Adam looked around, looking amazed at the selections.

"Hi! How may I help you?” The florist greeted them, bending down to greet the little one.

"I want to buy flowers for mommy! She likes yellow!” Adam replied, his gaze followed the florist as she took a single sunflower from her left.

"I think your mom will like this one!"

"Yes! Charlie, can I get this one?” He looked up and swayed his little hand that was in Charles’ grip. "Please?"

"Can I get it in a bouquet, please?” The driver’s request was being done right away as she went to get a bunch of the flowers to get them wrapped up in craft paper.

"Please make it pretty too!” Adam added.

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Charles and Adam walked into the store as the driver greeted the owner, while the little one looked around with the bouquet in his arm that he insisted on holding.

"Hi. I texted you earlier regarding the item?” He came up to the counter while the owner got himself busy as he went to get the item that was mentioned.

Adam stayed silent, his hand still holding Charles’ as he softly sang what he believed was a dinosaur song while playing with his foot. “I'm a dinosaur, dinosaur! Oh, I am a dinosaur..." Charles had to bit his lips to hold his chuckle so he wouldn't interrupt the little performance and tilted his head back as the owner walked back with a small, square box.

"Would you like to try it first?"

"Yeah." He retrieved the watch and bent down, cutting off Adam’s little song. "Adam, try this one."

He looked down at what Charles had in his hand and squealed. "It’s a dinosaur watch! It’s a dinosaur watch! Is it for me?"

"Yeah! Let’s put it on you.” He hopped in place, unable to contain his excitement, while Charles secured the green-coloured, brand new watch around his plump wrist. "Do you like it?"

"Yes! Yes! It looks like a stegosaurus!” He pointed at the frame, which sort of looked like the plates of the dinosaurs.

"That’s what I thought too. I just couldn’t remember the name of the dinosaur.” He stopped Adam’s little hand as he tried to take it off in order for him to put it back in the box. "It’s okay. Just keep on wearing it. You look handsome, munchkin.” He the continued with the bills as they walked out to the final place of the day to get some takeout for dinner.

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"Hi! Did you have fun? You moved your head away from getting hit in the face with the plastic that was wrapped around the flower bouquet that your little one was holding.

"Mommy, look! I bought this for you! Oh, Charlie did.” You took the flowers as he hugged your neck.

"Nah, he bought it himself. I should definitely step up my flirting game.” Charles walked inside after you and locked the door as Adam and you settled on the cosy couch.

"It’s so pretty, sweetheart! It’s mommy’s favourite colour too.” You hugged the bouquet in your arms and pecked at his little cheeks, as the green coloured thing that was secured on his wrist caught your attention. "Oh? What’s that?" You asked, taking his left arm closer to you.

"Oh! Charlie gave me this new watch! It’s so pretty, mommy! Look!" He seemed to remember about the watch now only when you pointed it out, so it was his turn to carry on the conversation. "It has dinosaurs at the back and here too! He pointed at the green dinosaur by the strap and squealed.

You looked at Charles as he stared at Adam lovingly, which made you smile, before focusing back on his little chat.

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"Is he asleep? He scooted a little to the side so you would get comfortable in his arms. He had left you to tuck Adam in while he played around with the remote control, switching from channels to channels as he waited for you to come back.

"Yeah." You rested your head on his chest after you made yourself comfortable on the couch, eyes staring at the television. You felt his hand on your back as he leaned his cheek against your hair. "I don’t think I could ever pay back everything you did to him."

"I’m not doing it just so I could get something back in return, love. Don’t be silly.” He then went silent for a while, wondering if this was the perfect time to bring up the topic. "Why didn’t you tell me what happened?"

You breathed in, knowing he would bring it up sooner or later after Adam told you he cried in front of the driver earlier. “It was a few days away from the weekend. I didn’t want you to worry about something else when your focus should be on your career." You looked up and saw him look in dismay at your words. "I’m sorry."

"There’s no need to argue about something that has happened.” His hand cupped on your cheek as he dipped his head to kiss your forehead. "I called my lawyer to ask him to get you a restraining order against him. Perhaps this way it will be easier for you instead of waiting for a response from the authority."

"But—"

"I’m not taking a no this time, Y/N. He told me he would need you to fill out a few forms as well as physical evidence; can you do that?” He gave your shoulder a squeeze as you sat up straight to look at him.

"Yeah… I do keep some evidence from his text messages and police report, but Charles, I don’t think I could afford to pay your lawyer.”

He frowned as he tilted your chin up. "Did I even say anything about money? All I said was forms and evidence, Y/N."

"But you had done more than enough. I can’t—"

"Okay, then be my girlfriend.”

"What?" Your words were stuck in your throat as you looked at him in disbelief.

"That’s the only way I’ll accept a payment from you. Be my girlfriend when we get all these things settled."

"Silly." You scrunched your nose, hand went to pinch on his cheek as he laughed before pulling you to lay down with him and spend the rest of the night without having to worry about a dinosaur’s name.

“You know what, I kept on humming Adam’s dinosaur song. I think it’s stuck in my head. Do you happen to know the full song?”

“I can send you the video with lyrics?”

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✧.* tag list for p.2 @mrsmaybank13 @xjval @coffeewhore18 @ireallywannasleep127

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc blurb #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fluff

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daycourtofficial · 1 month

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Ferocious beasts with soft bellies

Pairing: Eris x Rhys’s sister!reader | WC: 2.5k | warnings: mentions of pregnancy, some violence from dogs

Summary: Eris’s hounds know you’re pregnant before either of you do, driving the two of you wild with their newfound devotion to you.

Author’s note: hi everyone!!! Thanks for joining me this week, I hope you had a great time!! This one ends on a note I didn’t expect it to, but I do have plans to write follow-ups I kinda wanted to break this up into two. Also this is part of my gingerfucker series, but can be read as a standalone okay love ya bye 😘

Eris’s hounds were incredibly well-trained. He spent thousands of hours when they were pups instilling in them commands, tracking and hunting skills, and alerting him to intruders on the property.

At least, they used to be well-trained.

These days Clover, the leader of the pack, would not allow you out of her sight. All twelve hounds wandered through your house as they pleased, often keeping you company in Eris’s absence. They would lounge about, finding warm sunny spots throughout the house to take afternoon naps in. You’d usually have one or two lazily trail you around the house, staying in the beds you had placed in several of the rooms.

Lately their attachment and sudden devotion to you was getting out of hand. Clover was practically sewn into your side the way she followed you around - she hardly let you out of her sight, keeping an eye on you at all times, following you as you moved through the house. She was even beginning to ignore Eris’s commands, opting to stay at your feet, following you around the house, or with her head curled on your lap.

When you and Eris publicly began your mateship, you had begged him to allow the dogs into your shared bed. “Just one,” you had pouted, “I don’t like waking alone.”

Despite his grumbling, Eris had obliged your request. Things with your family were still quite rough - it had been almost a year by now since you left the Night Court, being unceremoniously abdicated from the throne. You had been in contact with most of your family by this point except for Rhysand, who was still refusing to speak with you since he forced you out of ‘his court’, as he had called it.

Despite your best efforts, Eris still felt guilty over it, the rift in your family caused by the discovery of your mateship. You usually tried to soothe him, not wanting him to feel guilt over the decisions you made. You would choose him over and over again, and problems with Rhysand or any member of your family were not going to stop that from continuing. Besides, his guilt would be better suited as ire towards Rhysand.

Sometimes you did use his guilt to get what you want.

Which is why it initially did take Clover much coaxing to jump into the bed at all, a notion she thought ridiculous at first, but once her paws melted into the mattress, she was quick to lay directly on your side of the bed, placing her head atop your pillow.

“Traitor,” Eris had muttered as you cuddled up to her, petting her soft head.

After getting her into the bed, Clover spent most nights curled up at your feet or by your side, your nights often spent squished between her long body and Eris’s. Soon enough, you were back to asking Eris for another one to sleep in your bed.

“So Clover doesn’t get lonely.”

He spent ages debating with you that no, she doesn’t need a companion in bed with her. It was ridiculous. The three of you were enough for one bed, and he hated to think of how a second hound would complicate things.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he did quite enjoy it when he’d throw an arm around you in the middle of the night and his fingers would meet Clover’s soft fur from the other side of you.

It also soothed some minor worry in him to have you protected from all sides, despite your being more than capable of defending yourself. The mating bond was a precious gift, but it was also a minor curse with the way it coursed through his veins, needing to protect you, to keep you safe, and to keep you both satiated.

“Er, our bed’s plenty big enough for more hounds.”

“Yes, but they’ll get too spoiled. You’ve already turned Clover rotten.”

“I have done no such thing,” you cross your arms, trying to look utterly appalled at his accusation. He gives you a pointed look, then turns his gaze behind you.

Your gaze turned to the hound seated behind you, her long limbs spread across your bed, her little leg kicks and soft snores bringing a small chuckle to your lips that you quickly turned into a scoff.

“That proves nothing.”

In the several months since allowing Clover and Cinnamon in your bed, they were still obedient. They left the bed without disturbing you in the mornings, they rotated who laid next to you and who slept at the foot of the bed, and they would never go to bed without either you or Eris prompting them to.

That all stopped a few weeks ago.

Eris’s hounds had always been fond of you - Eris had spoken of them for centuries before you were able to see any of them. The way he had spoken of them had helped you see he was capable of caring about something that wasn’t himself.

That was its own revelation.

Meeting the hounds was quite nerve-wracking for you - he told you they were quite cold to new fae, and they had detested Lucien’s overeagerness to befriend them - a grudge they still held many centuries later.

“I believe they smelled the desperation leaking from his pores, tainted their perception of him,” he quipped.

Despite Eris’ warnings, you were not prepared for them to warm up to you as much as they had. He brought out his most trusted hound, Clover, to meet you, and you’re not sure if it was the way Eris’ scent was forever entwined with your own, but she warmed to you immediately. She circled your legs before sitting directly next to you, placing her head beneath your hand.

“What does this mean?” you whisper to Eris, not wanting to scare her or set her off.

“She wants you to pet her.”

Your confused expression makes his eyes dance with amusement.

“Surely you understand that means to stroke her head.” He raises his hand in demonstration, petting the air with a bemused look on his face.

You huff, “she could bite me, I apologize for wanting to wait a moment before touching a creature you’ve told me is dangerous.”

“She is dangerous, but surely she’s capable of being more than one thing.”

Nowadays she was capable of such a feat - she was not only beloved by you, but she was also a constant thorn in your side.

It started with subtle things, conversations with Eris where you tried to express how odd they were behaving one night while you sat in Eris’ study, helping him sort through correspondence from his brothers about the lands they oversee.

“Clover followed me into the bathroom.”

“Perhaps I should put some cushions for her to lay down while you bathe. I’m fond of the sight, perhaps she is too.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Er. She’s behaving strangely.”

Eris set the letter from Moros down, his attention fixed on you. “You spoil her, she is merely being affectionate. You’ll get used to it.”

Eris was wrong, Clover’s behavior only getting worse as the days went on.

“Clover, stay.”

Clover’s brown eyes observed you, your finger pointing toward the floor indicating for her to stay, tone full of finality - a princess’s tone, a high lady’s tone. You were determined to get the hound to listen to you, commanding her to stay in your chambers.

You passed through the door, heading down to speak with one of your advisor’s who insisted he speak with you as soon as possible. You rolled your eyes just thinking about his current issue with one of the trade routes that flows into Spring and how last time he wanted to speak to you, you enjoyed watching the vein on his forehead throb at your reluctance to take his ill advice.

Perhaps during this meeting the vein will pop, at least then the meeting would come with entertainment.

You look down and are startled when you see Clover’s body in step with yours, her fur shimmering in the light as if she were smoke rising from the ground.

Cauldron boil me, Eris is going to kill me if I’ve ruined all of their training.

You stop, pointing in the opposite direction, whispering, “go, shoo Clover.” You don’t even want to consider how she got through the closed door.

Clover just sits in front of you, her gaze piercing, seeing something you can’t. You blow out a breath, hands running through your hair, “okay, you may come with me.”

You’d regret those words.

Clover strode into the room before you, sniffing the air as her nails clacked across the floor. Her focus shifted to the male in the room, Flint’s eyes narrowing at her. She moved her body closer to the floor as she stalked towards him, the hair along her spine raising into the shape of a fin. Her ears were pulled back, a low rumble emitting from her chest.

“Clover!”

Your voice is chastising, but Clover does not let her guard down as she slowly approaches Flint. His eyes are full of fear as she approaches, her feet circling him. He spins in a circle, not letting her eyes leave his.

“Clover!”

You whistle her stop command, but she ignores it. She circled Flint the way she circles mice and rabbits.

She always loved playing with her food.

“What is this? Control your hound.” Flint’s voice is annoyed as Clover raises her head, baring her teeth at him.

“I’m trying.”

You move forward, reaching to grab Clover’s neck, instead missing and falling forward towards Flint. His arms catch your forearms, but Clover was not a fan of his touch and her teeth swiftly sank into the leg of his trousers. Her grip was strong as she tugged at his pants, and he began stammering, shaking his leg trying to rid his pants of her. He backed away toward the door, and once he reached the threshold, Clover let go of her grip, almost causing the male to fall over.

Her growls echoed down the hall as she watched him run down the hall before scampering back towards you, confusion and shock on your face at all that just transpired.

The hound just licked your face gently before laying next to you, her head in your lap.

You sighed, certain that Eris would kill you for ruining Clover.

Later that night, Eris made hisbway to your shared chambers, a bit surprised to find you already asleep. The hour wasn’t too late, however he had caught you dozing while reading over some requests regarding equipment for some farms.

He stripped his clothes, the finery being replaced by some loose trousers before moving towards the bed to find that the hounds had placed themselves on either side of you, Cinnamon occupying his spot on the bed.

“Cinnamon, down.”

The brown hound does not listen to the command, the only response a long sigh of her breath. He stared at the hound - a seventy year old beast who was one of the easiest hounds he’d ever trained, knowing how he expected her to behave from an incredibly young age.

Cinnamon was no Clover, but she was second in their chain of command. Clover was on your other side, soft snores coming from her snout.

There was plenty of room in the bed for the two of you, the two hounds, and, truthfully, several more hounds. Your preference for larger beds from when you had your wings never left after you lost them.

Eris laid in the bed, determined he could outmaneuver his hounds. He moved a hand out to your face, stroking your hair before a soft growl cut him off.

His hand stilled, eyes wide at such a response from Cinnamon. His nostrils begin flaring, heat rising to the surface of his skin in anger. He could feel the roar of the bond in his ears, frustration boiling within him at the defiance and aggression at him touching his own mate.

He tried to swallow it down, refusing to erupt in his own bed while you slept peacefully next to him. His fuse was a short one, his temper always loosely held back by a quick tongue that allowed him to loosen the reins ever so slightly.

He watched them, their bodies curled around your own and thought about your complaints of them following you around, believing it to be a consequence of your softness towards them.

You were spoiling them rotten. You were a few weeks away from giving them table scraps, for Mother’s sake. But then his thoughts veered into Flint’s description of what occurred, Clover guarding you from Flint’s touch like a mother hen-

His heart stalls in his chest, a heavy realization settling over him as he sits up, Sierra growling softly at his abrupt movements.

You were pregnant. You had to be - it was the only logical conclusion other than all twelve of his hounds losing their minds simultaneously. They must be able to scent it on you before fae senses could pick them up.

He wonders briefly if Lucien’s magical eye could see it.

Eris lay frozen on the bed, his thoughts swirling with what to do, how he was going to handle this. He was still quite new to his tenure as high lord - the work wasn’t unexpected by any means, however his position was still quite vulnerable - new power always attracted violence attempting to see how far that power extended.

Things were still difficult in your personal lives - he and Lucien were on tenuous speaking terms, you and Rhysand were not on speaking terms. The two of you hadn’t spoken in almost a year.

It was all so damn complicated - you hadn’t had a coronation as high lady yet, wanting to wait until Rhysand would show up to have the ceremony. The logistics of a babe at such a crucial turning point politically could open Eris up to glaring vulnerabilities.

Long fingers tap at his chest, trying to keep himself somewhat grounded in reality. He had no confirmation for this - his reasoning behind such a theory were founded on the strange behavior of his hounds. He was being a ridiculous fool to get so worked up over unconfirmed theories.

Yet the image of a swaddled little thing kept gnawing at his mind - tiny toes, a tiny nose, tiny fingers wrapping around his. He had adored his brothers when they were much younger, when the world under Beron could be disguised as a good place. Perhaps he could do it.

Eris laid awake for several hours, your soft breathing calming him as he sat and thought about all the possible ways he could ruin all of this.

A tiny part of him let himself hope that, in spite of it all, he wouldn’t.

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#gingerfucker #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra x y/n #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra

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joelscruff · 9 months

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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 #*

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joeys-babe · 7 months

Text

Joey B Blurbs: Say You Love Me

————————————————————————-

summary: you prank Joe by not saying “I love you” back after seeing another couple do it on TikTok.

warnings: fluff, unserious/funny, pranks, illusions to smut at the end.

pairing: joe burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

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*no particular date for this blurb!*

(y/n’s pov)

It was a quiet afternoon in the Burrow home, which lately seemed to be a very rare occasion. Joe was upstairs getting ready to go over to Sam Hubbard’s house since a few of the guys were getting together over there. Mostly captains and a couple of other players.

The twins currently sat next to me on the couch while they babbled back and forth with the cartoons playing on the TV.

When I found out I was pregnant, Joe and I had set very strict guidelines for our future kids. Cartoons and tech limit being a huge one we both agreed on.

Well, that was before we became parents. We quickly realized that having two toddler boys at the same time meant using anything to calm them, distract them, keep them content, etc. The list could honestly go on forever.

Now that Joe was going to be leaving soon, I planned to keep them occupied with the TV til they eventually had to take a nap.

As I noticed Miles starting to get tired, Joe came bounding down the stairs loudly making an introduction as usual.

“Hey baby, I'm going to Sam’s now. I'm gonna make sure to get home before dinnertime so I can grill steak tonight.” - Joe

“Mmm. Sounds good.” - you

He made his way over to the couch and bent down to be at eye level with me.

“I've been craving a good steak for a bit so I'm def looking forward to it.” - Joe chuckled

“Okay, babe. Have fun.” - you

Joe leaned forward to give me a quick kiss before pulling away and standing up with a smile.

“Bye, mama. I love you.” - Joe

Let the prank begin.

In all honesty, as fun as this prank was going to be just to see how he'd react it was also kinda sad. Joe has always made it apparent to verbally profess his love for me, and not matching his statement would certainly be something he'd dwell on.

When we first started dating back in high school, Joe made it known to me that the statement “I Love You.” was not something he just threw around. To him, it was a more intimate thing and he'd only tell it to someone if he truly meant it.

I was lucky enough to be one of the people on the receiving end of those three special words leaving Joe’s lips.

But for right now, he wasn't getting the return of those special words.

“Bye Joe.” - you

I tried to study his expression when he realized the fact I didn't say it back but for a second it didn't seem like he had. When he did though, it was very obvious. Maybe she didn't hear me? Joe thought.

Joe leaned down and kissed me once again, this time a lot longer than the first.

“I love you.” - Joe

“Have fun at Sam’s!” - you smiled

The look he gave me wasn't a reflection of hurt but more of confusion and worry.

“You okay?” - Joe

“Yeah, why? I'm great!” - you

He stood there for a second trying to take in my body language, but there wasn't a noticeable difference to him.

“Okay, just checking.” - Joe

Leaning down once again, Joe pressed a very thorough kiss on my lips. My hand rested on his cheek and my thumb rubbed under one of his eyes as we kissed. After, our foreheads stayed touching, and Joe just smiled at me.

“Bye, I love you.” - Joe

“Bye, baby. Tell the boys I say hi!” - you

Joe abruptly stood up after that. They way you kissed him wasn't matching your lack of sentiment.

“y/n? Did I do something?” - Joe

“No. Joe are you okay?” - you

He scoffed before collecting his thoughts and speaking.

“Well I was but i’m kinda confused now.” - Joe

“About what?” - you

I watched Joe cock his head to the side as he narrowed his eyes at me, he was completely and utterly lost.

You were acting completely normal, and happy; kissing him and calling him baby, but you wouldn't say I love you back?

“Do you not want me to go?” - Joe

“What no? Do you want me to not want you to go?” - you

“I mean I wasn't going for that, but I feel like I should stay now.” - Joe

“Why?” - you chuckled

Joe crossed his arms across his built chest, making his muscles bulge, and huffed out a loud breath.

“Are you mad that I was gonna go hang out with the guys today? If you didn't want me to go you could've told me.” - Joe

“You know I don't care if you hang out with your teammates if anything I encourage it. Why are you acting like this?” - you

“What do you mean me?? y/n, what the hell is happening?” - Joe

“I don't even know what you're referring to.” - you

He dropped his arms and ran a hand through his soft curls while heaving a sigh.

“Okay nevermind, whatever. I'm going now. I love you.” - Joe

Joe watched me intently and very closely to see what my next move was.

“Have fun, Joe. I'll be here with the boys waiting for your return.” - you

His expression and body language stayed the same but the words that left his mouth next said the opposite.

“Do you not love me anymore?” - Joe

My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened at his question, have I gone too far?

“What?! Where did that even come from? That's a stupid question and you know it.” - you

“Yeah, sorry.” - Joe looked down at his feet

There were a few seconds of silence before Joe looked back to me.

“I’m gonna go now, or else I'll be late.” - Joe

“Okay, c’mere give me a kiss.” - you

Bending down once again, Joe pressed little pecks on my lips over and over again before pulling away.

“Love you.” - Joe smiled

“Thanks.” - you

“y/n… I’m your husband. Why won't you say it back?” - Joe

“Say what back?” - you

“Don't play dumb. Every time I say I love you, you completely dodge it. What’s that about? If I did something tell me. Please.” - Joe

“Dont know what you're talking about.” - you

Joe’s jaw clenched up and he looked at his two boys who were by now watching him and I instead of their show.

“Hey guys can you go upstairs so Mommy and Daddy can talk?” - Joe

Oh shit.

The boys nodded and eventually went upstairs to their room. Once Joe saw their little frames disappear he turned back to me, his nostrils were flared and he looked mad.

“y/n, what the fuck did I do? It's not our anniversary, you're not on your period, we were literally cuddling an hour ago, and you are kissing me like nothing is up. Why won't you say you love me? It's fucking me up like hell, y/n.” - Joe

I stood up abruptly and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face into his neck.

“If this is a joke- I swear to literal God.” - Joe

“I'm so sorry Joe. It was just a little prank but I took it way too far, please don't be mad at me. I seriously didn't intend to get you this worked up. I didn't know it'd mess with you like that.” - you

He stayed silent and I moved my head to his chest, his heart was beating unhealthy fast.

“Joe? Baby, are you okay? Your heart is beating really really fast.” - you

I looked up at him as I rubbed his back with one hand, the other rubbed over his heart. Joe was looking straight ahead at the wall, trying to not acknowledge me.

“Say it.” - Joe

“Say wha-” - you

“Say it.” - Joe looked at you

I moved my hands to cup his cheeks and placed a huge kiss on his lips.

“I love you. I love you so much, Joe. I love you more than anything.” - you

“Thanks.” - Joe smirked

“You ass!” - you shoved him as he laughed

We eventually stopped laughing and pulled each other into a hug.

“I love you.” - you

“I love you too.” - Joe smiled and kissed you

Joe and I kept kissing as our hands started to roam over each other’s bodies. Though I protested, Joe pulled away eventually and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

“What are you doing?” - you

“Texting Sam and saying something came up last minute.” - Joe

I smiled and came up with a quick response.

“Oh, something def came up.” - you held eye contact with Joe before flicking your gaze down to his crotch

“Now you're in trouble.” - Joe

He tossed his phone onto the couch and picked me up bridal-style, running to the stairs as we both giggled.

I really loved Joe with my whole heart.

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic

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tarjapearce · 4 months

Note

I’m missing Miguel ((and spider family)) more recently 💔 and just thinking of him going on a business trip where he gets more busy and barely being able to talk or text you ((which makes you sad)) :(( he isn’t home until a week but that’s when he decided to work harder and do all nighters to finish early and get home to you and the little spiders :((

Timeskip to him coming home early without telling you about it, silently walking into the house without making any noise. Kids are at school during the time he arrives. Quietly going into the bedroom knowing you’re taking your noon nap. He carefully lays besides you and wraps his arms around to try and at least not to wake you up but fails 😭 ☹️ you’re up and happy to see him telling him he isn’t supposed come until the next week. 💔

Bonus: He surprises Gabby and Benji while picking them up from school 😭

Welcome Back, Papa!

Had a lil strength to come up with this 🥹. I'm sorry, I'm in dire need of fluff after this week 😭.

Warnings: None. Just Fluff, Slice of life, Domesticity, Dad Miguel ~

It was times like these Miguel sometimes regretted taking that promotion as a lead scientist and manager in Alchemax Lab's department. No project came without his approval, his knowledge was highly valued among the multinational.

But that meant more responsibilities, which sometimes demanded his presence outside Nueva York, hold meetings and even give some workshops to younger scientists entering the company.

His reluctance finally was brought down when you saw him brooding in his office, nursing his temple as he looked through some files. Lab coat still on.

What started as a little tease and joking, ended up in a honest talk.

He couldn't help but chuckle faintly at your attempt to light the mood.

"Hey..." You cupped his face and kissed his temple, "Work is work. They want you there cause you're the smartest cookie in the pack."

"Besides... I'll manage. Don't worry okay?"

"Hard to not when Benjamin just came out from a cold and fever"

You sat next to him, taking his hand in yours.

"Look, mi amor. We'll be fine. I know this won't be the first nor the last time you'll get sent away to another branch. Of course we'll miss you."

His shoulders slumped. He had tried to delay as much as he could this responsibility, but unavoidably as it was, he had to go, for three weeks.

He'd be gone for twenty one days, deprived of you and his family. Gabi gave him a squeeze upon noticing him in the blues, same as Benjamin, Rosie was fussy; as if sensing trouble, but eventually got to sleep.

"We're not going anywhere, okay? We'll videochat every night, I'll call you in your lunch breaks, and when you return"

You smooched him and grinned, "We'll have all the fun you want."

"Oh really?"

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him as he sunk his face in your neck. Taking a deep inhale, as if memorizing your scent. He hadn't left yet and was already missing you.

"Yeah. Will wear that red lace set you love-"

Your sentence was left hanging as a squeal replaced it. He peppered your face and lips with his kisses, to then rest at your temple.

"If something happens, you call me. Entendido?" (Understood?)

"Yes sir."

-----

The hardest thing he had to do that morning was kissing you all goodbye, but the sooner he got there, he'd pour himself to work, and finish it all soon so he could return to his awaiting family.

"Love you so much. Help your mom while I'm gone, okay, champ?" Benjamin nodded teary eyed, "I'll be back soon okay?" Miguel kissed Gabi's and Rosie's temple, and finally kissed you.

"Call me." He instructed before going away

"Bye Papa!"

"Nos vemos, campeón! Pórtense bien!" (See you, champ, be good!)

"Adiós, Pa!"

He waved off to Gabi.

And an hour later you'd get a text from him.

Ya te extraño, mi reina.

This made your heart bloom with warmth. These two weeks would definitely be torture without him, but with a great power, came a great responsibility.

Soon you'll have him all to yourself again. But right now, all you could do was to hug a heartbroken Benji.

"He'll be back soon, mi amor. I promise."

Benjamin just nodded and followed Gabriella inside as Rosie stared at you.

"I know you want your Papa to sing to you before bed, but you'll have to put up with me, princesita."

Rosie cooed but smiled. Her lovely eyes raked over your face, as you took her inside.

----

Miguel's absence had started to seep through you all. It was bittersweet to call him, seeing him but being unable to touch or talk to him properly, to then hang up and see everyone's faces all glum.

You tried to keep them busy, Gabriella helped you around with Rosie or the house keeping, and so did Benjamin.

After the first three nights, the both had surprised you by joining you on bed. Gabriella had seen you cry as you folded the laundry. It didn't help that you were on your period, making a mess out of your hormones and emotions.

"We miss him too, Mama."

Rosie had her crib in your room, Benjamin cuddled you on the right, and Gabriella to your left, holding you by your waist.

"I know, Solecito. Just a couple of weeks more and we'll have your dad back."

"I don't like it when Papa leaves." Benjamin mumbled and you kissed his head as your hands caressed Gabi's hair.

"I don't like it either, but he is a busy man, mi amor. "

His little hands hogged the sheets.

"What does he do anyway?"

This made you chuckle. Benjamin wasn't used to see Miguel in his work clothes.

"Dad is a scientist, Benji. He, uh, creates things." Gabriella explained while rubbing her eyes, sleepily.

"A dentist?!" You chuckled

"No, mi amor. A scientist"

"I thought Papa was a doctor"

"He is. But not the kind of doctor that you see at hospitals. Imagine being in a laboratory, and there is alot of people there. Your Papa works with them so we can have new things."

"Like?" He yawned

"New vaccines, medicines, that sort of stuff"

"Can you ask him to make medicines that tastes like my nuggies?"

This pulled a genuine laugh off your chest, your baby boy followed.

"Let me ask him tomorrow."

-----

There wasn't a day that you all weren't in his mind. At first he grew anxious, knowing how difficult it was to handle a whole household on your own.

He'd send text often, asking about you, or the kids. You'd send him pictures of them doing different activities or sleeping. And sometimes to keep him motivated, you'd send him a couple of pictures or videos of yourself.

He missed you. That was sure, he missed your hair tickling his nose and trapping his face in it. Your huggable body he relished spooning onto, you welcoming home with the calm he needed after a hectic day and his kids being annoyingly adorable. He missed you all.

The kids and your saddened yet understanding face were enough for him to work hard every day, by pulling all nighters to have his didactic material and reports done. By the end of the week, he was tired enough, to just return to his hotel room and crash, absolutely quanked after hours of meetings, holed up in labs and audiroriums.

But it granted him the outcome he was looking for. With a couple of talks to an old friend of his, Xina, Miguel rearranged the whole scheduled activities to finish the workshops in a week, leaving him completely free for the next one. He had everything done for the other scientists and managers in charge.

They saw no reason to keep him longer than they should, so they let Miguel go.

He spent the whole day sleeping, recharging, he didn't call you that night, which worried you, but you knew how Alchemax got whenever they needed him.

Hope everything is going fine. Te amo.

----

As soon as the alarm hit five am, he checked out the room and drove back home. If his calculations were correct, he'd be there in a couple of hours.

The need of seeing you and his family after two weeks away. He couldn't have another. He needed you.

He needed your kisses, Gabriella's joy and jokes, Benjamin's odd questions and Rosie's laugh. And he needed them now.

After long hours of driving a familiar neighborhood came into view, and soon his home came into sight. Clock ticked three pm, meaning you'd be asleep with Rosie.

He parked the car, got his stuff out and closed the door. Heart beating a mile per second, it reminded him of the first time you came to his home, to watch a movie, without knowing it'd be the night you'd kiss and seal your forever deal.

Thrill ran through his body as he quietly opened the main door and put his things on the couch. He wasted no time and came up the stairs, and pushed the ajar door open. A relieved yet breathless sigh escaped his mouth upon watching you.

Curled up in the middle, cuddling his pillow, hugging it.

For a second, he'd scowl at the pillow as it was so lucky to have you just thw way he liked. But no object would replace him.

No object could hug you and love you the way he did. With slow and silent strides, he kneeled on the mattress, dipping it's surface with his weight to then lay next to you.

His shoulders slumped as he wrapped his arms around you. Fingertips roaming and exploring, as if he was discovering you for the first time again. You were real and his. He was there, with you, breathing the same air.

His face sunk in your hair, lovely strands caressed his face, just the way he had missed. Sweet aroma oozed from your skin, heartbeats calming down enough from their frenzy. He was home.

Eyes raked over your sleepy form, and he couldn't help but kiss your cheek, your temple and the corner of your lips.

The latter stirred you awake. For a moment he regretted waking you up, but guiltiness flew out the window when you stared at him like the first time he said he loved you. Wide eyed, blinking almost stupidly at him but oh so full of joy.

Your arms immediately went around him as he kissed you. Lips crashing on yours with such hunger he fumbled.

"Mi reina" he breathed before squeezing you into his broad chest, peppering your face and lips in kisses, mumbling I love you's and I missed you's so much in between them.

"Mi amor" His heart fluttered as yours came in tandem with it. "I thought you weren't coming until next week"

He shook his head, cupping your face in his hands, delivering you a final and loving kiss.

"Couldn't do it. I was missing you too much."

"We've been missing you too, the kids have been making me company."

"Yeah?" Another kiss, cause the previous thousands weren't enough.

"Yeah. Benji asked if you could make medicine taste like his Dino nuggets."

He chuckled while hoarding you in his frame.

"It's not impossible but, it's complicated. Por Dios. No sabes cuánto me alegro de estar aquí." (By God, you have no idea how happy I am to be here)

"Not to be mean, but Gabi kicks in her sleep."

He removed a straying strand off your face, to properly admire you. Ever beautiful and radiant, like that night in Peter's carneada.

God, he loved you.

"What?" Your smile stretched further as he mimicked your lips.

"Nothing. Just thinking how... lucky I am."

Your heart melted. Your patience had rewarded you with a sweet man. He had passed from being difficult to express his feelings, to shower you in affection on a daily basis.

Public displays of affection weren't his thing, until you showed up and taught him the right ways. You had rewired his brain in such a wonderful way he'd be a liar to say if he didn't enjoy.

"Let's pick up the kids."

He offered and you nodded, already excited for the idea.

"Let's get Gabi first."

------

Rosie awoke as you drove the car, seeing her Papa made her squeal and kick her feet excitedly.

"Hola, Rosita preciosa" She cooed with a smile as Miguel winked her way.

You picked your car since you both wanted to be as sneaky as possible about it. You let Gabi know you were outside.

A couple of minutes passed when you heard the squealing outside the car as Miguel squeezed her.

"Papa!!!"

"Mi Solecito hermoso. I missed you." (My beautiful sunshine.)

"Thought you'd come next week? Never mind that. You're home!"

His princess was like the Koala to his tree built. His hands ruffled Gabi's hair to then kiss the top of her head as she laughed.

"Let's go get your brother."

"Can we have some pizza later?!"

"'Course we can."

She beamed to then hug you and get in the car.

"I'll go get Benjamin."

You walked over the pre-school area and went towards Benjamin's classroom. He was finishing a drawing and beamed when he saw you.

"Mama!"

"Hello my pretty boy"

You hugged him and kissed his cheek repeatedly, "Ready to go home?"

"Yes. Look!" He showed you the drawing, you gasped, "Look at that! You did it by yourself?"

He giggled as he put on his backpack

"Teacher helped me."

"Why, thank you, Mrs. Mackie."

Benji waved his goodbyes to his teacher and walked with you towards the entrance.

"Benji, baby."

"Yes, Mama?"

You helped him to remove the little backpack and held his drawing.

"Do you know who's that man?"

"Who?"

His eyes followed your finger and gasped when he saw Miguel

"Papa!!" He bolted towards him, curls bouncing in the way, "Papa!"

Tears begun streaming down his face as he clung to him. Miguel quickly hugged him.

"Mi campeón, te extrañé mucho" Miguel mumbled as he rubbed in soothing circles his son's back, letting him cry while Benji now clung to his neck.

"You'll make me cry for real, buddy"

Miguel held Benjamin in one arm as he used his other free hand to wipe his tears.

"I'm here okay?"

"¿Te vas a ir otra vez?" (Will you leave again?)

Miguel shook his head and kissed his boy's curly head

"No. I just returned cause your Mama told me you missed me. I had work to do but I finished early. Couldn't leave my boy like that."

You put Benjamin's things inside the car

"Wanna go get some pizza?"

Benjamin just nodded and Miguel gave him a squeeze, earning a giggle from his boy.

"Let's go then."

#t writes✨#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #soccer family ⚽🕷️#atsv miguel #gabi o'hara #mama o'hara #benjamin o'hara #rosie o'hara #miguel x you #miguel x y/n

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deadghosy · 3 months

Text

“WHO ARE YOU?”

ADAM X ANGEL! READER

🦆Sorry if it’s long lol, I got inspired by the song to make this ✨

A echoing lullaby goes around the garden of Eden. Waking up a male human who was taking a rather long nap as his eyes open.

Adam, the first man was sitting under a tree sighing as his memory of his first wife leaving him strikes him. He never thought he would be left like that as he oddly felt sad but also felt nothing as he didn’t know how to control his emotions. But then the echoing lullaby broke him out of his train of thought.

He shook his head, thinking it was just nothing. But the echoing of the melody got louder, and louder, and loud in his head to the point it was like a siren calling out for him to follow the voice. He looks up to see a beam of light strike down. Everything rumbles, making the first man fall to his stomach at the powerful shake.

Adam coughed, sitting up as he dusted himself off and stood up fully. He walked through the garden, following the enchanting melody. He closes his eyes, feeling as if the melody swirled around him. Making him him feel like dream as he flutters his eyes.

“What…is that…?” Adam asked himself as he blinked amazed at what is happening. He couldn’t believe it as he is thinking it’s a blessing from god himself.

He finally reached the section of the garden as the beam of light vanishes in a blink before it started to act weird.

The light flickers from behind the tree branches covering the view of what could be behind the cause of this blinding light and melody voice calling out for him. He lets out a breath and lifts up the branch.

He sees a glowing figure, the figure glowed so bright like the stars as the figure’s face was covered by the light that arises from its own body. He had to blink a couple of times to get use to its light.

“Who are you?” He says in a low tone to not scare whatever it is. The figure was in a sitting position, having their knees close to their chest as four pair of wings spout out of their back. Even head wings as a blinding light covers their face, making them faceless at some point. They turned to the man as they stood up, the light getting brighter as a sun in the sky. They seemed to be naked as their breasts/pecs were most noticeable in features from the light that Adam couldn’t bear much long to stare.

“Do not be afraid..”

The voice whispers, but the whisper sounded loud as Adam suddenly passes out by a bright light. He wakes up to see everything practically normal as he touches his eyes to see if anything went on with him. But there was nothing, it was like the figure wasn’t even real to say. It kinda scared Adam before the lull sky rolls in his head calming down any thoughts in the first man’s head as he heard bushes rustling to see a lady. Who he must assumed was his new wife, Eve.

Years pass as that same melody echos in his head every time he thinks about you. Usually when Adam feels pissy, that melody calms him down out of nowhere. When he feels happy, it hums in his head. When he feels sad..which is never really an issue to be sad in heaven, he would hear it softly.

It’s gotten to the point he talked to sera about it, but she didn’t really know either. That made Adam get angered as the lullaby lulls in his head making him calm down. Sera sees Adam relaxed oddly after showing his anger towards her. He found it odd at how he could calm down that instantly. That’s when sera finally realizes what’s going on.

“$!@$&/&” Sera tries to say but she grabs her throat. It was like a barrier got caught in her throat, preventing her from saying the truth.

Adam raised a brow at her, “what? You got imaginary dick in your mouth or somethin'?” He asked as sera has a panicked look trying to explain. But only nothing came out.

“Listen, if you wanna fuck with me. Then fine. Bye bitch.” He said flipping her off as sera just screams in silence gaining weird looks. Adam walks through the streets of heaven pissed off. He knew he wasn’t going crazy as he literally heard it from afar and not in his head most definitely. Lute came by him, “Sir! Sera wanted me to make sure you are alright.” Adam rolled his eyes at the angel solider beside him. “Well, tell her I don’t need to be checked on. I’m the first man for Christ sake! I can handle whatever the fuck is going on with me.” He says before flying off from Lute. She scrunched her face a bit before sighing. She also flies away.

It’s now night time as Adam sighs sitting in his bed. He couldn’t get the soft lullaby out of his head…it sucked for him as he gripped his fist, feeling the sharp nails in grave into his own palms. He lets out a shaky breath as he swore he felt eyes on his back. He turned around to find nothing there. So why did he feel paranoid? He didn’t know why but it sucked mad ass as this is heaven for crying out loud. Why should he even be paranoid. He scoffed at his own thoughts and laid down. Not knowing someone was coming to visit him.

A light shines from his ceiling making Adam squint his closed eyes at the brightness. He slowly opens his eyes to see four pair of wings sprout out gracefully as a hum enters the room. It was like a huge hug around Adam’s bedroom as the figure has their hands in a praying gesture “Do not fear.” The figure says as they slowly flew to Adam who is laying down with a “wtf” face as the light blinds his eyes. Adam sits up seeing the light had dimmed a bit as he stares into the “face” of the person he so longed to see after years. His eyes widen to grab your cheek. He felt that is was real as an echoing hum enters his tears that he heard for so long. He couldn’t believe that it was you as you slowly brought up a hand to touch the side of his face. Adam softly leaned it in, making him feel as if this was back when he first met you. Even if you practically ran away from him, it felt nostalgic to have you by him.

“Hello Adam…” you said with a loud whisper. The whisper sounded soft but harsh as Adam looks at you confused. “Who are you?..” he asked like the first time he did. You seemingly smile behind your “light” mask as you tell him your name. “ I am no one….but you can name me…” Adam scoffs but then starts to think of a name that would fit you. As he stares at you, he notices this time you aren’t naked like how he first met you. You were in a full pure white gown. “How about Y/N? How does that sound?” He asked with a smirk, proud of the name he gave you. You hummed softly with a nod liking the name he gave you.

The whole night you two talked like old friends who had plans to go out. It was exhausting for Adam as he just wanted it sleep, but he felt awake listening to you as you talked in a soft tone that could easily put him to sleep. It was like he could talk to you for hours. Yes he made some harsh remarks and comments like he usually does. But he listened and respected when you talked. It was like you had a leash on him to control on how he acts at least. Suddenly a bell rang from your watch as you stood from his bed. It was time for you to go.

“Goodbye Adam…” Y/N says as their wings sprout, making a circle above their head. Adam’s eyes widen going to grab them to make them stay. But he failed as Y/N made a praying hand gesture, their light getting brighter.

A glowing light blinded Adam as he covers his eyes. As he stopped rubbing his eyes, he looked around his room to not find the glowing figure anymore as he scoffed. But the sight of your appearance made him softly smile. He could still hear the echoing lullaby in his head as he lays down in his bed.

With one mutter of a word, he whispers the name of the figure he made for, “Y/N.”

#SoundCloud #angel!reader #angelic #angelcore #rammstein #hazbin hotel adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x angel! reader #hazbin hotel heaven #hazbin hotel angels #Adam x angel! reader #the first man

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leonw4nter · 1 month

Text

There Are No Cute Officers In The Station!.. save for one

RE2R!Leon x Teacher!F!Reader

“Tehila Kaufman.”

“Here!”

“Antonia Lange.”

“Here!”

“And… Sherry Birkin.”

The lack of a response caught your attention instead of her voice. You call her name again, looking around in the bus for any sign of the blonde 12-year-old. You observe each seat, counting and checking each student for any sign of Sherry.

“Sherry!” A classmate of hers calls out, shifting in her seat and pressing her hands into the foggy windows. You remind the class to stay put in their seats and be on their best behavior as you exit the bus to greet your pupil and her guardian, who looked a little frazzled.

“Sherry! Good morning, I was looking for you,” you say with a soft smile as you ruffle her hair which is styled into a braid paired with a strawberry clip near her temple.

“I’m really sorry, miss. The taxi we rode on the way here got pulled over by cops and it took us quite some time to find another one,” her guardian Claire apologized with a meek beam.

You smiled and nodded, understanding her situation; you have enormous respect for Claire, juggling an odd job along with college while also taking care of a 12-year old. Despite all the odds stacked against her, the teen always managed to make sure Sherry was ready for school, which included making sure she had complete supplies and was sent to school before the school day started. You reassured her that all is fine before informing her that Sherry should board the bus now since the bus is scheduled to leave for the Raccoon City Police Station soon to begin the whole-day trip.

“Bye, Claire! See you later! I’ll try to bring home a souvenir if I can afford some!” She excitedly beams, to which she chuckles brightly at. With one more wave and a hug, she finally hops on the bus and goes to her designated seat.

After doing one final headcount of all the students and asking any of them if they needed to go to the restrooms, you give the driver a go signal to hit the road. Since the elementary school was just 15 minutes away from the museum-turned-police station, you advised that the students take a quick nap before they arrive at the destination. You look back and see some students already taking their naps, though some were talking with their peers or snacking on some energy bars. With a small smile, you turn back to the brochure you were sent and go over the paper. The program would start with a quick greeting by the lieutenant Marvin Branagh before he hands over the main task to officer Leon Kennedy for the rest of the afternoon before ending the tour with a quick video presentation and an essay-writing activity on their experience. Since you went over everything that needed to be checked and there would be some moderate traffic on the way, you decided to also catch a nap of your own.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After that short nap, you spent most of the time reminding the children not to touch anything they weren’t given permission to touch and to avoid bothering the other officers there since they had work to do. You also reiterated rules once more which included asking questions respectfully, asking permission to go to the restroom, and no rough playing. You considered it perfect timing when your reminders came to an end, the driver announcing that the class had arrived at the RPD. All the students pressed against the windows nearest to the station’s gates, oohing and aahing at the sight in front of them.

“That’s so cool! Look at that!”

“I can’t believe this place is a police station now. It still looks fascinating!”

“I wonder if there’s going to be any cute officers in here,” you hear a pupil giggling to her friends. You chuckle at her outlook on the situation before responding to her, her cheeks burning pink like her sweater.

“There won’t be any cute officers, Clara. Admire the art and not the cops, okay?”. She responded with a giddy grin and gave you a thumbs up, still giggling with her friends. Well, that was as much as an adolescent girl can promise but you didn’t mind too much as long as she didn’t get in trouble. After all, it’s not like you could judge her when you’re out on a personal mission to find a worthy bachelorette for your coworker Lilia’s affections; she could really use some help in rekindling her love life.

After a few minutes, you instructed your students to leave the bus in an orderly manner before lining them up by girls and boys in order to enter the beautiful station. The last thing people expected a museum to transform into is a police station and the RPD did a damn good job at it. Although much of the museum has been changed to fit a more police station feel, there were still remnants of the past museum that stayed like puzzle mechanisms, the statue up front, and the library that still stood according to the contractors involved in transforming the building. Those were only what you’ve read somewhere so of course, there’s going to be more locations within the precinct that were left unchanged during the renovation. Now that all your students have finally calmed down and straightened their lines, you begin leading them inside the gates and eventually into the precinct proper. The entire way to the large brown doors, your students quietly observed the various red and green herbs near the fences along with other ornamental flowers but occasionally oohed and ahhed some more, especially when officers started coming out of the door to welcome the eager students. The giggles and excited chuckles increase in volume, the electric excitement sizzling in the air– even the officers were excited, some of them also giggling and beaming widely; it seems like they’re just as excited as the kids are. Now that the class is right at the entrance of the precinct proper, you give them the cue to quiet down before greeting the three officers ‘good day’.

“Good day, officers!” They all greet in unison, genuine smiles on their lips. Their greeting pulls gleeful laughs from the officers before one of them speaks up.

“Good day to you as well, students. I’m Marvin Branagh, the Lieutenant for the Raccoon City Police Department but you may call me Officer Branagh. Here with me are officers Jill Valentine and Brad Vickers. They will help me in explaining the history of the museum up until recent renovations and then we’ll hand over the task to Officer Kennedy, who is waiting inside. He will act as your tour guide around the station– he may be a rookie but he’s well-versed in the rooms and artifacts in here so I trust that he will be able to execute his job well.”

The students nod, most of their gazes now peeled on the door instead of the officers. Jill chuckles and looks at you, giving you a kind smile.

“I guess you guys look ready to head in. Do you wanna head in now?,” she asks with a bright beam.

“Yeah!” Your students respond all together. Brad chuckles, giving Jill a friendly smack to the back.

“Hmm, I don’t feel the energy. Are you guys really ready?”

“YEAH!” They respond even louder, some of them cupping their hands to their mouth. Jill looks pleased with the hyping she’s done, giving Brad a confident look before she directs them in. “Alright. Let’s head in.”

With a small grunt, she and Brad open the doors to reveal the interior of the station. As soon as the kid last in line enters, you follow and take a look around for yourself. Your gaze falls on the ceilings and the wooden accents on the walls, stairs, and pillars before you really drink in the sight of the marble statue right in front of you. The Statue of the Winged Goddess is a lot taller than you thought, pictures now seeming to not capture the breathtaking marble sculpture. Even your students were stunned into silence, quietly appreciating the statue and the rest of the station’s wonders. “Wow, it’s so pretty” you think to yourself. “I should visit here again by myself sometime.”

“I see everyone’s got their breaths taken away by the beautiful Goddess in our station,” Brad’s voice snaps everyone out of their trance, you included.

“I get it, I was like that too when I first got there. Couldn’t stop staring and marveling at her, she’s a beauty isn’t she?”

The students murmur some “uh uh”s, unable to really tear their eyes off. You managed to snag your attention away from her, a little surprised at how your students were more enamored by the statue than the remnants of the museum that remained in the form of wooden accents and carvings on the Roman Tuscan columns.

“Alright, class. Eyes on Officer Vickers, he’ll be explaining the history of Raccoon City and the museum before it got renovated and reworked into a police station,” you say. They lead the students towards a room and they take their seat, sitting with their friends though you reminded them not to be too noisy.

“I advise that you take out notebooks and pens because you will have a written reflection activity by the end of the trip.”

The news of an essay activity due soon drew groans and complaints from your pupils but they still brought our paper and pens, ready to listen to the presentation.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

After the 30-minute long presentation on various facts and information regarding the city and the station’s history, Brad finally wrapped it up. In the first half of the presentation, Marvin left the room and went somewhere to go look for someone, Officer Kennedy you assume. Jill and Brad took turns presenting, the pair doing their best to make this as interesting as possible for the children to keep their attention hooked on the slides and the short video that will be shown later on. Jill and Brad shared stories about how they came to work at Raccoon City, their younger years, their experiences when they were rookies, among many others.

“Jill here nearly got crushed during an investigation up there in the Arklay Mountains, carried around the ‘Jill Sandwich’ nickname for a bit,” Brad reminisced with a wicked grin while Jill was in the corner, arms crossed with a smirk while she tilts her head down and shakes it, brown strands swaying along to the motion.

Some students giggled, laughing along to their jokes; though it was easy to make them laugh, you’d bet that their cheeks would hurt by the time they got home due to how wide they were grinning. Sherry was talking amongst her friends, beaming and whispering every now and then. She seemed a lot more excited than the rest, if that was even possible; she kept looking towards the door where Marvin left but you didn’t really mind since it didn’t look like Sherry was too bothered by anything yet you made sure to still look after her well.

“That is it for our presentation, how was it?” Brad asked. “Anyone got questions? Clarifications? Insights?”

“Calm down, Vickers. Let the kids choose what to answer man,” Jill teased.

Casey raises his hand, waving it in eagerness to share what he possibly has to say. Jill nods to him, giving him the go-ahead to speak.

“It must be so cool working here! I mean– you got cool lookin’ statues and puzzles everywhere!”

Brad nods, smiling sincerely at the boy. “Yeah, it’s cool working here but it gets boring sometimes. Sometimes the day is slow and police work isn’t all going on missions and shooting guns– there’s times where we just sit at our desks and read mountains of reports but I love my job.”

Jill agrees, sharing an experience of her own for a few more minutes before officially wrapping up the presentation. “Now that everyone’s run out of things to say and ask, it’s time for the station tour to be led by our own rookie, officer Kennedy.”

You hear the door slightly creak along with the shuffling of shoes, soft taps of the soles of their footwear against the marble floors. You turn your head to observe where the sound is coming from and you swear you saw the sun walk in clad in blues and RPD badges. You try to stop staring at him shamelessly, to not gawk with your jaw parted but you fail; the longer you stared, the surroundings blurred into insignificance and all noise died down, the cheesiest romantic song you know seemingly playing in the distance the more he walked. It seemed perfect that this tall glass of water walking towards the front of the class worked at a building that used to house the finest pieces of art; this man looks like he was sculpted by a maestro. He didn’t say or do anything but his presence commanded your eyes, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He must’ve really had you under his spell since you didn’t notice your grip loosening on your tumbler, the metal bottle falling and creating an irritating clanging sound. The pretty officer whips his head towards your direction, his gaze aimed straight for your eyes before dropping down to the tumbler on your foot. Before you could bend down and pick it up before mumbling an apology to everyone, he rushed towards your direction to pick it up for you. Neatly trimmed nails and long, slender fingers wrapped around the bottle to hand it to you. As he stood back to original height, he locked eyes with you before extending his hand.

“Here. Cute stickers, by the way,” he softly whispers with a small smile. A warm gust of air escapes your lips, exhaling a breath you didn’t know you held. You could simply nod and look dumb in front of who is possibly the most gorgeous man you’re ever seen, what a way to create a first impression. You take the bottle from him, the tip of your finger brushing against his hand causing your finger to feel an electric tingle on where skin met.

“Thanks,” you mumble with a wonky smile. He nods at you before heading to the front to really start the tour.

“Leon!”

You crane your head to where Sherry is standing– or, was standing. She shot up from her area and ran towards Leon, giving him a big hug with her arms wrapped around his waist. Leon looked pleasantly surprised, returning her hug with a hug of his own, his hand around her shoulder. “Don’t worry guys! We know each other,” Sherry explained coolly. Leon chuckles, nodding along and confirming her statement. He gives her kind pats to the back, the room looking a lot brighter every time he chuckled; the way his eyes wrinkled when he grinned big reminded you of a golden retriever puppy, down to the color of his sun-spun hair and his overall aura. You had to blink away the trance he unknowingly set on you, turning your attention back to the students and the other officers in the room, acting as if your heart wasn’t rattling at the rib confines of your chest. You hoped that your cheeks weren’t a vibrant red, standing out from the rest of your appearance.

“Good day, students. I’m Officer Kennedy and I’ll be your tour guide around the station. Although you are free to look around and take pictures, I’m going to set some rules down for the class, does that sound great?” He throws up two thumbs up, looking at the children for confirmation. You swore that your nails would dig into the paint of the tumbler, causing the paint to chip away a little bit due to the sheer force you were exerting into holding on that tumbler just to stay calm. You couldn’t possibly have a crush on an officer in a station you visit for a trip! You’re not even sure if you’re going to come back here anytime soon! Now that the kids had given him confirmation, he puts his hands down, and chuckles a little more before continuing on with the explanation.

“As I’ve said earlier, you can take pictures and take sketches but please do not place your hands on the display, draw on any surface, or play with the artifacts. Most of these are old and possibly even the only of its kind so we advise you to proceed carefully. Everything clear?”

The students once nodded again, some students repeating “clear” back to the man in front of them.

“Okay. Now that that’s done, I would like to ask you to form a line outside the briefing room before we start.”

You direct the students to get up and form a line of two but surprisingly, Leon helps you even if the task doesn’t seem to be bothering you. He shoots you a small smile as he continues to assist you in arranging the students, which didn’t take much. Now that everyone was arranged accordingly, he began to lead the class around the station while receiving smiles and thumbs-up from his coworkers who seemed to be hyping him up while Marvin looked on proudly. You smiled at the thought since it was nice that they all seemed to have a bond closer than you thought. Leon was just about to look ahead again, turning his head back to face the corridor ahead when he caught your gaze.. He held eye contact for a little bit before breaking away and you swear you left behind your soul downstairs. This is going to be one interesting trip, especially with a charming officer charming his way into your heart.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

All went smoothly until you noticed the line looking a little too odd. Well, that’s because someone happened to be missing. The moment you realized that someone had managed to slip away and wander into the myriad of rooms in the upper floors of the station. As soon as you noticed, you made the children neaten up their line before giving Leon a tap on the shoulder.

“Officer,” you whispered. “I’ve got a missing student! I don’t know where they are, probably in one of the rooms. I swear I saw them just a few moments ago, must’ve slipped away.”

His eyes widen but not before he takes one more glance at the line of children, curious as to why the productive tour suddenly stopped. Some students seemed to have picked up on a missing student, asking where their peer might’ve gone off to. Leon places a reassuring hand on your shoulder before reaching into his walkie-talkie to radio to the other officers to look for a missing student, giving descriptions of their hair color and clothing. The tour had to be put on hold, Leon directing them back to the holding area and making sure no one else slipped off. Leon took your hand and looked into your eyes, determination and hope shining bright in those eyes of his. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, instructing you to stay with your students for the meantime.

“Don’t worry, miss. We’ll find them in no time. In the meantime, please ask officer Bass to reach into the drawer to my right and get the bags of mini donuts. The kids deserve a snack.”

He nodded and began to walk off before turning around to face you again. “Help yourself to some too. It’s been quite the morning.”

As soon as he left, another officer came in. “Bass”, his patch reads. Leon must've called his attention before he left, telling him to come in. You told the officer about Leon’s directions, disappearing through the door before coming back in with bags of mini donuts for the class. You open up bags and instruct students to take what will satisfy their hunger, making sure that there’s other pieces for other students. You decided not to have some, anxiety disabling your ability to feel hunger at the moment. You can only hope that this issue is resolved before parents get involved.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Miss Y/N. Found them,” Leon says. His large hand is on the student’s shoulder, the student looking a little sheepish after realizing he got the class worried. They were fiddling with the straps of their bags, gaze downcast towards the ground as the officer walked him towards you. “Found them in the entomology room, was sketching some beetles.”

You walk towards your student, checking around if they lost anything or appeared injured even if they were just sketching some insects.

“Are you alright? When did you slip away from the rest of the line?” you softly ask. “Why didn’t you ask permission?”

Your student stayed silent, a little too shy to answer any questions for now. Eventually, they spoke up but in a hushed voice.

“I got a little distracted with the longhorn beetle display and forgot to tell everyone else that I was there at the insect-display room,” they explain. “I didn’t mean to make everyone worried and I’m sorry for causing a fuss all over the station.”

Leon chuckled softly and bent down to his level, a kind smile displayed on his face. “Hey, it's fine. Just make sure to tell your teachers or any adults if you’re going to go somewhere, okay? Nice drawing back there though. You’ve got a knack for art.”

The student smiles a little bit though they’re still stiff. You lead them to the rest of the group, the tour day ending. Some students pass a few mini donuts in their direction. You finally call up the driver to come pick everyone up and go back to the school, where their guardians will fetch their children.

“I don’t think you had a donut,” Leon asks with a boyish grin.

“Yeah. I didn’t,” you softly respond.

“Anxious?”

“Yeah. Well, I was because that’s my student and how could I be so careless to let something like this happen?”

Leon stays silent, standing right beside you as he observes the kids along with other officers deployed during the incident earlier.

“They’re here now, safe and sound too. I guess this is a learning experience for all.”

His comment pulls a small grin from you. What he said wasn’t even remotely funny but it somehow made you smile. God, were you all sappy for him already? Well, it is easy to make you smile. Maybe you’re subconsciously using smiling as a way to calm yourself down and try not to be too overwhelmed with the incident from earlier.

“Well, since you didn’t have a snack earlier… What if I take you up on a donut run one of these days? Next week, maybe– or any time you’re free?” He asks. “I know a couple places.”

His cheeks flush to the shade of cold watermelons on a hot summer day, the sudden burst of color a contrast to the pale skin of his face. You noticed him fidgeting with a loose thread of his pants, a little nervous on asking you. You beam wider, accepting his offer and setting dates, exchanging numbers. Just as you finish writing down the last digit of your number, the bus arrives. Quickly, you arrange your students again and begin leading them out the station, reminding them to thank the officers for their patience and time.

“I’ll walk them out,” you hear Leon say to his superior as he accompanies you to the bus and helps the students jump up on the steps, reminding them to be careful and to have a safe ride back home.

"You too, miss Y/N. Have a safe trip back home.”

“Will do, officer.”

He takes your wrist and gently helps you up even if the height isn’t even that great to begin with. You give him a thumbs up before waving him bye. You’ve already made a mental note to come back there and sign up on an itinerary tour as soon as you arrive in order to take some time admiring the architecture for yourself but turns out you’re going to be coming back to admire someone who you wish will be all to yourself soon.

NOTE - This was supposed to be posted 3 days ago in time for my birthday but I was busy with so much school work, I wasn't able to post this on the date I set for myself 😭😭 My birthday was cool actually: I almost got lost in another town, I passed an admission test that I got sick and miserable for, and my best friend got me a Chris Redfield capcorom!!!!! Taking Chris wherever I go now like I'm out here greeting him good morning or good night before I go to bed 😭😭 I forgot to ask my mom if I can get a birthday cake so I was unable to print my Leon, Dante, Vergil, and Nero cake-toppers BUT IT'S FIINEEE. I was losing motivation due to being unable to work on this because I have requirements due and this fic was marinating in my document for 2 weeks so... yeah :| Fic releases will be less frequent since I've got so much things to do lately. I'm also still accepting requests so feel free to drop by in my asks. OH RIGHTT my team for our sports festival on dodgeball won despite having absolutely ZERO practice so I'm proud of that :) Anyways, that's it and thank you so, so, so much for reading my fics!!!!!! I <333333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers are from @plutism , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy #resident evil #resident evil 2 remake #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil 2 #re2r #re2 remake #biohazard

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stellar-constellations · 4 months

Text

Star Patient: Chapter 1 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 8,390 words (I am so sorry for how long the first chapter is).

Chapters: Current chapter, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (in the works)

“Can you say ‘aaaaaah?’” (Y/N) drawled out.

Her patient, little eight-year-old Lou, opened his mouth widely like a lion and ‘aaaaaah’ed for her as she shined her mediscope light down into his throat, checking his tonsils, uvula, throat's lining, gums, and tongue.

“Mmm, I see. You can close your mouth now. Good job, Lou!” she cheered as the kid beamed. “He has enlarged tonsils. Do you hear him snore at night?” she questioned, turning her attention to the concerned mother.

“He snores so loud he’s woken us up from across the house.” His mother sighed. “Is that bad?”

“Does he have problems focusing in school because he’s tired. Taking naps that are over an hour multiple times a week?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yes. His teacher complained just last week about him sleeping in class during a spelling test.” Lou's mother confirmed.

“I see. Lou, do you have any problems sleeping? Like do you wake up multiple times a night?” (Y/N) questioned, looking over towards the small boy.

“Maybe once or twice a night…” Lou muttered as he thought to himself.

“And does your throat hurt when you wake up?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Sometimes.” He responded.

“How often do you get sick?�� (Y/N) questioned.

“Honestly, we’ve lost count. This past year he’s been sick at least three times.” His mother admitted.

“And it’s June. I see.” (Y/N) nodded, grabbing her clipboard of papers and a pen. “Lou is experiencing obstructive sleep apnea due to his enlarged tonsils affecting his sleep, which is affecting his daytime behavior and is the cause of why he gets sick so often. I do recommend surgery to remove them. I’ll write down some children hospitals near your area that specialize in pediatric surgery, that way we can get the right surgeon for the job.” She explained, writing down hospitals, where they’re located, and doctor names specializing in tonsil-study.

“Does this all sound about right, Doctor Ryan?” she questioned, turning her attention to the corner of the room where the doctor and her instructor stood, observing her performance.

“Absolutely phenomenal. You got everything right.” He praised, giving her a teethy smile that belonged on a Colgate commercial while a bubble of pride formed in her chest at his praise.

“Oh thank you, Ms (L/N)!” Lou’s mother smiled as she clutched her hands together.

“No worries. Here you go.” (Y/N) spoke, handing Lou's mother the papers. “Check out will be on your right when you walk out. There will be some ring pops too, go get yourself a reward for behaving so good today, Lou.” (Y/N) smiled as she rummaged through her cabinet for a sticker.

She found one and handed it to Lou's open hand.

“You were my star patient today, bud! I’ll see you in a few weeks for your next check-up.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Thank you again.” Lou’s mother smiled as she held Lou’s hand. "What do we say, Lou?"

“Thank you! Bye bye!” Lou cheered.

“Fantastic work today. We have one more patient before you can head out, okay?” Doctor Ryan spoke.

“Yes, sir!” (Y/N) smiled, excited of who she'd be working with next.

She loved kids and she loved helping them. It made her happy to be able to care for them and help them on their recovery to healthiness and happiness, hence why she's studying to become a pediatrician.

“They’re a bit on the older side, but we’re really short-staffed at the moment so I need you to take care of them.” Doctor Ryan explained.

“How old?” she questioned, noticing they were leaving the hospital’s pediatric branch and going to the elevators.

They both entered the elevator and Doctor Ryan pressed the 4th floor button. The doors closed as (Y/N) held the handle, feeling a little nauseous at being in a closed space with a man. She doesn't mind Doctor Ryan, but she doesn't like being trapped in uncomfortable proximity with a male—just a fear that was installed into her when she was young. Th elevator moved up two floors before the ride finally ended.

“Well… they’re twenty-two.” The doctor sheepishly smiled.

“Sir, I’m training to be a pediatrician, not a regular nurse.” (Y/N) stated firmly as the elevator doors opened, allowing them to walk out into the psychiatric branch of the hospital (must to her relief).

“Yes, but like I said, we’re short staffed. We just need to you re-evaluate his wounds and do a check-up on his physical health. He’s on suicide watch.” Doctor Ryan explained.

She opened her mouth to complain before hearing his last words.

Damn it, suicide watch? I don’t want them dying on my watch. Not only that, but I have experience in that field so I’m decent help for it. She thought.

“I… Yes, sir. I’ll get him checked out.” (Y/N) sighed, caving in.

"Thank you! You know it's been with the shortages of nurses and all, especially for the psychiatric branch." Doctor Ryan sighed out, in relief rather than reluctant-acceptance that (Y/N) did.

"I understand..." She sighed again.

Yes, I understand that the psychiatric branch is full of unstable patients with crazy-strength if set off. How do they expect me to hold up on my own against a fight with these guys? (Y/N) thought to herself.

They walked to the branch's help desk, scurrying through papers before Doctor Ryan made a noise of acknowledgment.

"Ah-ha! Here you go." He smiled, giving the paper packet to (Y/N).

(Y/N) grabbed a chair with wheels and moved it behind her, sitting down and reading the information.

"Like I said, just quickly re-evaluate his wounds and do a check up on his physical health. If he has any information on why he tried to commit suicide, write it down. It can help us with finding a therapist or at least a hotline for him. I'll go and write a report for Lou's visit, get that off your plate." Doctor Ryan explained, turning and walking away. "It's sad how young these kids are when they think all hope is lost..." he sighed.

Twenty-two? That's a pretty normal age for suicide. Try eleven, Doc. (Y/N) thought sarcastically. Well, no time to mope about. Let's get this over with and hope for the best. (Y/N) thought, dreading the interaction.

She wanted to be a pediatrician not only because she liked kids, but because they were much easier than adults. Adults live in a world where they're made to believe their pain is insignificant because elders and children are much more vulnerable to pain and suffering, so adults constantly fight their pain and hide it from others. Adults hide their pain to avoid pity, to avoid the expensive medical bill they don't want to pay. (Y/N)'s morals may be questionable, but if there's anything she believes as a nurse and upcoming-pediatrician, it's that you can't put a price on life. Kids have no shame telling someone if they're in pain, adults act as if they're dishonoring their family's reputation and pride if they tell someone they have a cough.

Not only that, but she doesn't want to work with adult men. It's been proven that some perverted adult men cause injuries to themselves so they can be in the care of gentle women, who they take overpower and advantage of. Of course, women can do the exact same thing too, but it's more prevalent with males. (Y/N) hates working with adults because she doesn't want to be apart of their sexual fetishes or apart of the statistics.

(Y/N) read through her patient's information, gathering the details she needs to access the situation:

Patient: Andrew Graves, 22. Room 402. Reason for admission: Jumped from a third-story building and ended up landing on his legs. By miracle, no injury to spine other than minor bruises. Both legs and ankles are shattered, needs multiple surgeries. Stitches on ankles, change bandages every 4-8 hours. Minor concussion and possible amnesia. Precautions: Patient isn't very cooperative. Use restraints if necessary. Has a sister that is extremely uncooperative and violent, has threatened other nurses. Use extreme caution with patient and sister to prevent any pain or stress that would worsen patient's condition.

(Y/N) put the paper packet down on the desk and sighed, shoving her hands into her face and groaning.

Of course! Not only an unruly patient, but an unruly visitor too? God, if you're real, is this your way of telling me it was a mistake being a pediatrician? (Y/N) thought to herself. Let's just get this damn thing over with, after this, I can go home and rest.

She walked to a medical supply closet in the staff room and took some bandages and anti-septic cream, along with checking to make sure her stethoscope and mediscope was all there. She grabbed two water bottles from the mini fridge and shoved it into her bag along with two mini-bags of pretzels from the snack cabinet.

She shut the staff room's door and locked it, shoving her key and lanyard under her lilac purple nursing scrubs in case some pocket-picker (or someone stupid enough) tries to steal her key. She made sure her bag's strap was secure against her firmly and walked towards room 402.

(Y/N) stopped at the patient's door to collect her breath. She heard voices inside, only dreading the next few minutes once she realized how angry the voices sounded.

"Damn it, Andrew! You just had to fuck shit up like you do with everything else, huh?" a girl's voice rang through the room.

"Isn't this what you wanted? You make no sense..." a boy's voice, Andrew perhaps, sighed.

"I didn't expect you to take me seriously, dumbass! What if you actually died? You'd leave me all alone to deal with the shit you caused!" the girl shouted.

"Keep your voice down! And the shit I caused? You're the one that started it all! If it weren't for you, we wouldn't be on the run!" Andrew hissed.

"Oh, so eating the neighbor was my decision? Is that what you're saying! No, you're the one that fucking said it!" the girl exclaimed.

"You implied it!" Andrew retorted.

"I did nothing! But even then, we would've starved in that damn apartment! Is that what you wanted? And you're the one that killed the warden, then the damn lady!" the girl claimed.

"Hey, the lady was self-defense and you're the one that made me kill the hitman! I killed the warden because you got caught! We would've both been fucked at that point!" Andrew reasoned.

"WE ARE FUCKED!" the girl screamed.

"Ashley! Calm down!" Andrew spoke, raising his tone.

"ME CALM DOWN? HOW CAN I BE CALM AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!" the girl, Ashley screamed, sounding crazy enough to potentially be pulling her hair out.

"Well you're going to have to! Someone might discover we're on the run!" Andrew hissed through his teeth.

"Don't you realize, stupid?! If you died, you would've left me all alone in this shitty world. I can't live without you, Andy..." Ashley muttered.

"My name isn't Andy, Andy is dead. It's Andrew." Andrew stated firmly.

"Fuck you, Andrew! I hate Andrew! I want Andy back! At least Andy still liked me!" Ashley shouted, her tone sounded like she was close to breaking down in tears.

"Ashley, come on... We've gone over this. I like you." Andrew sighed.

"Yeah right! You tried sleeping with that lady at the apartment complex!" Ashley accused.

"Damn it, Ashley! I already told you, she tried to kill me so I killed her! What part of that involves sex?" Andrew hissed.

"I don't want to hear it, you bastard! The second you get a girlfriend, I become invisible to you!" Ashley complained.

"As if! I was always ditching Julia for you! Even then, you fucking convinced her into breaking up with me!" Andrew huffed.

"I was weeding out the whores that sprout their legs open! She doesn't deserve someone like you, Andy!" Ashley shouted, then took a deep breath. "I'm your sister, Andy. I know what's best for you! I know who's best for you! She wasn't shit!"

"You're stressing me out, Ashley..." Andrew groaned, his voice muffled (presumably shoving his face into his hands). "I don't want to talk about this... I don't even know how we got on this topic but just shut up about it... We'll leave as soon as I heal up some."

"That'll take too long. We can leave now!" Ashley whined.

"And what? You want me to run on two broken legs? Are you going to carry me?" Andrew spoke, verbally knocking some sense into her.

"I-I'll find a damn wheelchair! We'll put you on a wheelchair and run." Ashley spoke, suddenly not sounding as confident and aggressive as she was previously.

"Run where? There's no where we can go! Mom doesn't want us and we can't just live on the streets forever. This is a good opportunity for us to rest here and think about our next move." Andrew explained.

"Says you. You get a nice bed and food provided to you while I'll be stuck outside, cold and alone while I rot away outside." Ashley snapped, exaggerating her voice on the last bit.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out. You have a way with getting what you want." Andrew huffed.

"Not all the time..." Ashley muttered. "I still think we should take a wheelchair and-"

"Leave, Ashley. Visiting time is over." Andrew spoke firmly.

"But-" Ashley started, but was cut off.

"No buts, Ashley. Leave... You're just making me feel worse..." Andrew sighed in frustration.

Good, stand your ground against her. I don't know their full story, but Ashley sounds really manipulative to me, but Andrew definitely doesn't sound like a victim either... (Y/N) thought to herself.

"Fine, I'll leave and I'll never come back! You can't live without me, Andy!" Ashley shouted before walking towards the door.

Sounds like a threat... (Y/N) thought.

Damn it, she's infuriating. As expected of her though... Andrew thought to himself.

(Y/N) realized that Ashley was coming her way. She didn't want to seem nosey so she quickly ran to an open hospital room, making sure to redirect her weight to her legs so her footsteps wouldn't make noise in case it alerted Ashley. She heard Andrew's door open before slamming close, then footsteps walking past the room (Y/N) was in.

(Y/N) held close to the wall where the door was, hiding herself in case Ashley peeked into the room on her way out. (Y/N) waited a minute after the footsteps vanished, just to be sure that Ashley wasn't on her way back. She walked back to the door before stopping, realizing what the siblings revealed to her.

They're murderers. Not only that, but cannibals too. They both confessed. I have to be careful about this guy, two broken legs or none, he's dangerous. (Y/N) thought to herself, then held her fist up to the door.

She gently knocked three times, then opened the door, not caring for a response back. She saw Andrew staring out of the hospital's window (one without bars, (Y/N) believes that's a stupid decision since this is a known suicidal branch on the fourth floor). His reflection showed his eyes closed, his eyebrows pinched in frustration.

"I said leave, Ash—" Andrew's head turned to look at the nurse and his eyes only hardened, as if seeming more mad at the nurse than at Ashley who ran off.

Watch it, buddy. I can make your death look like an accident... (Y/N) thought inside of her head, only proving her dislike of caring for adults.

"Expecting someone else?" (Y/N) spoke, forcing a polite smile on her face.

I'd rather not have to try and fight him into restraining him against the bed. She thought.

Andrew stayed quiet as he glared at her.

The previous nurses that entered his room weren't very kind to him, they were old and seemed annoyed to care for their patients. They got an earful from Ashley. Not only that, but they sure were rough with re-doing his bandages, sloppy too. He didn't want to deal with anyone else today, he just wants to go to sleep.

Maybe a permanent sleep like jumping out of this window... At least I wouldn't hear Ashley complain so much. Andrew thought to himself.

To be honest, Andrew doesn't exactly remember much. For some reason, he only has memory of the past three months and that's it. All of his memories consisted of being locked in an apartment with little food, to no food, for three months with Ashley, rotting away. Then Ashley had the bright idea to eat the neighbor after breaking into his apartment and seeing him fail a seance to a... demon? As crazy as that sounds.

Well, she didn't exactly say it, but she placed the thought into Andrew's head then forced Andrew to say it to make it seem like it was his idea. Then she started chopping the neighbor up to eat him, then the warden came and Ashley got caught, which resorted in Andrew having to kill the warden so the warden wouldn't contact any other wardens with his walkie-talkie. Ashley had the bright idea to escape the apartment complex by completing the seance and offering live human. Andrew eventually agreed to it.

Then they ran from the place and ended up in a lady's apartment. Turns out she whored herself to get food from the wardens, so they used her to escape. While Ashley left to do the seance, Andrew had to hold her hostage so she wouldn't try to call for help from the wardens. He made the mistake of taking his clever away from her neck and letting go of her, but she got ballsy and tried to kill him with a nail gun, resulting in Andrew killing her. Then Ashley came back and started to freak out, saying that Andrew was trying to get in the girls pants (however she came up with that conclusion, Andrew is unsure).

They completed the seance by sacrificing a warden and escaped the apartment complex, finding themselves on the run as wanted felons. It was then when Ashley and Andrew got in a fight and Ashley told Andrew to kill himself, to make it easy for her and the police. Andrew was fed up of running and listening to his sister's idiotic (and borderline psychotic) ideas that he actually did jump (to which Ashley brought him here instead of just letting him bleed out, much to his dismay).

But before all of those events, everything else is blurry. He has no recollection of himself or his family after all the horrid memories trapped in his head.

(Y/N) felt a little unsettled under his very judgmental gaze, remembering that he confessed to killing at least two people (possibly even more).

Is he sizing me up to be his next victim? (Y/N) briefly thought before pushing that thought away. No, he said that they would've starved in their... apartment? What did they mean by that?

As much as she wanted to find out, she didn't really feel like wanting to die either. Her college debt would go to her family, and it'd be too bothersome to die. Too much time wasting on dying (she'd be too impatient to die slowly).

“I’m a student studying nursing, please call me (Y/N) despite the name tag.” (Y/N) smiled.

I'd rather not tell him I'm studying pediatric nursing. I don't want him freaking out or anything since I'm technically out of my field. She thought.

“They couldn’t bring a real nurse or doctor?” Andrew huffed.

Great, if she makes any mistakes, he might have to stay here longer than necessary, and Andrew does not want that.

“Unfortunately, we’re short-staffed at the moment. No one here likes working the night shift.” (Y/N) sighed. “But, luckily for you, I happen to be a very good student. I even dare to say better than some of the other nurses here.” (Y/N) joked, a smile on her face to try and brighten up the murderous aura surrounding Andrew.

Andrew stared at her in silence, unamused.

“Tough crowd…” She muttered. “Alright, let’s get this over with first.” (Y/N) spoke, walking closer to Andrew (whose guard only raised even more at this). “How many fingers am I holding up?” she questioned, holding up two fingers.

“Four.” Andrew huffed, crossing his arms.

“And now?” she questioned, holding up one.

“Two.” Andrew answered.

“Last time.” She commented, holding up two fingers again.

“Four.” Andrew spoke.

“Okay, are you thirsty right now?” (Y/N) questioned.

“I guess…” Andrew muttered.

“Here.” (Y/N) spoke, digging into her medical bag and grabbing the bottle of water she shoved in there from earlier. “Hungry too?”

“No.” Andrew answered, resulting in her placing a bag of pretzels and water on his nightstand.

“They're for later. It’s important not to have them now even though you’re thirsty. Just trust me.” She spoke before continuing her little survey. “Feel any pain anywhere?”

“My legs.” Andrew spoke, pointing out the obvious in a ‘duh’ tone.

“Other than there?” (Y/N) added. “Such as a headache? Behind the eyes?”

“Both.” Andrew answered.

“Have you vomited? Do you feel nauseous at the moment?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Haven’t thrown up, but I feel sick” Andrew admitted.

“Have you or your sister noticed any gaps in your memory? From today to a few months or even more?” (Y/N) asked.

“Yeah, actually…” Andrew muttered.

(Y/N) took a few steps towards him, basically hovering over him.

“What the hell are you doing?” he snapped, but didn’t pull away or shrink from her.

“Calm down. Are your hands clammy?” she questioned.

“A little...” Andrew muttered, not breaking eye contact from her.

She broke the eye contact as her eyes swept through his face, looking at his disheveled black hair and electric green eyes, a beautiful combination, she noted. She also noted how pale his skin was along with the sweat running down it.

“Andrew, open your eyes wide for me, please.” She spoke, reaching into her bag and pulling out a mediscope.

Andrew complied with a little bit of hesitancy, allowing her to watch as his pupils shrunk from the light. She looked closely at his retinas to make sure there was no tear along with the hydration in his eyes. They did seem a little blurry, she noted.

“Open your mouth, please.” She requested.

Andrew sighed but listened as she did. She checked his tonsils, throat lining, tongue coloring, gums, and uvula.

He felt awkward having her do all these procedures and asking all these questions, whether it was her job or not. He wouldn’t deny it, she was pretty, prettier the woman at the apartment complex he murdered.

Wow, nice thinking… Andrew internally scolded himself as he looked away from the girl. Comparing your nurse to a dead girl you killed really isn't a sign of insanity or detachment.

At least he was self-aware?

“And real quick, let me look inside your ears, please.” She requested.

Andrew stood still as she shined the light in his ear, checking through the tiny camera to see if there was any ear infection or something out of the ordinary. Nothing.

“Last thing.” She spoke, placing her mediscope in her bag and switching it for her stethoscope.

“Can I ask why you’re doing this? All these questions and procedures?” Andrew questioned, adverting his eyes from her as she started listening to his heart.

There was a moment of silence as she focused, looking at her watch as she listened to his pulse.

It's 102 beats per minute, a bit quick for his age, but it's not too worrying and it can be easily caused by the stress and trauma of his situation, she noted.

“Are you telling me the other nurses didn’t do all of this to you?” (Y/N) asked as she responded his question from earlier surprised and a little concerned.

“Nope.” Andrew replied lazily.

“Ugh… elders.” (Y/N) muttered quietly, earning a small smile from Andrew (one he quickly hid with a cough as he adverted her gaze). “They’re supposed to check you for any possible illnesses or worsen conditions. I know you came in here because you jumped a three-story building, but it can be linked to serious health concerns. You can develop future problems we can identify and fix right now if we take the time to look.” She explained.

“So what did you discover, doc?” Andrew questioned in a monochrome tone (she wasn’t exactly sure if he was making a joke or being serious or even sarcastic).

“Well, you have internal bleeding.” (Y/N) spoke, not bothering to even try to sugarcoat it or break it to him lightly.

“What? How bad?” Andrew grimaced, afraid of the reaction Ashley would give when she hears this.

“How much blood did you lose when you fell? Were you conscious when you hit the ground?” (Y/N) questioned.

“I mean, I was conscious till I hit the ground. After a couple of minutes I woke up and was in pain, understandably so, until my sister dragged me to a hospital. So I was probably out for five maybe ten minutes.” Andrew explained.

That’s not good, along with all the other symptoms he’s experiencing. She thought to herself.

“How about this. On a scale of 1-10, how much blood did you think you lost?” (Y/N) rephrased.

“Seven, maybe eight.” Andrew huffed. “I don’t really know.”

“No worries. It’s not a big deal. They said you shattered the bones in your legs so you’re going to need surgery for it. Luckily they were able to reposition and place back your ankles.” I explained. “You’ll be bedridden in the hospital for a couple days, then you're going home and being bedridden for six months, minimum.” (Y/N) emphasized the last word to show the most importance to it.

“Fuck... What about the internal bleeding?” Andrew sighed, dreading the lecture Ashley would give him.

"For your severity, you'd need surgery. It'd take a couple weeks for you to heal, but your internal bleeding should be healed by the time you're discharged." (Y/N) explained. “Now, bear with me for a second. I’m going to level your legs and it’s going to hurt.” She spoke as she walked to the tall hospital cabinets, taking three soft and limbless pillows from it.

“Ugh…” Andrew groaned, already dreading that part as she walked back to him.

“Take a deep breath.” She instructed.

She waited for Andrew to audibly breathe in. He did what she requested, his chest and shoulders rising (he ignored the shock of pain that came with it, but she noticed and figured it was due to the internal bleeding).

“Hold it in.” She spoke, then lifted his heavily bandaged legs with one hand (with a bit of struggle) and placed the pillows under him.

She gently rested his legs onto the pillows and looked at Andrew face, seeing his eyebrows furrowed and his fists clenches tightly.

“Breathe, darling. You’re all done.” (Y/N) instructed, letting out a deep breath for him to mimic too in case the pain was too much.

Andrew let go of his breath, regaining control of his lungs after a few manual breaths.

“You did so well, my star! Do you want a sticker?” (Y/N) questioned.

Andrew adverted his eyes from her smile, his face red from what he wants to be because of holding his breath, but it was instead caused by her praise and pet names (or maybe both).

“No…?” Andrew muttered.

“Mm. What color do you want? Gold, pink, blue, red, purple, or gray?” she questioned.

“Why do you have a gray star?” he questioned.

“Good choice!” (Y/N) spoke, rummaging through her bag for her stickers.

She found them and searched for a gray star, finding one and undoing the paper back. She sticked it on Andrew’s chest, clothed with the blue hospital gown.

“Tah-dah! You were my star patient today!” (Y/N) beamed.

“Are you done?” Andrew sighed dully, adverting his eyes to hide his blush.

“Nope! I have to redo your bandages. This’ll also hurt, but I’ll be gentle with you.” (Y/N) explained.

“Hurry up.” Andrew huffed.

“So soon to have me leave, huh?” she sighed jokingly. “Hurts my heart.”

She reached into her bag and grabbed bandages, gauze, and anti-septic cream.

“So, Andrew. Kinda curious, what made you jump?” (Y/N) questioned, remembering her superior's words as she started undoing Andrew’s bandages on his legs.

“Why would you need to know that?” Andrew growled, becoming defensive.

Ah, I pissed him off. But this is important information for his health, murderer or not. (Y/N) thought to herself.

“You know, I tried killing myself too. I was eleven. Failed multiple times. But you had the courage to jump. I didn’t do that.” She explained.

“How’d you try?” Andrew questioned, a spark of curiosity in him.

“I’m not giving you any ideas, mister.” (Y/N) laughed, giving him a playful yet stern expression before switching her gaze to study the stitching on his ankles. “But, I gave up and made an oath to never harm myself in that way again because it really affects the people you care about. Your sister was probably very sad when you jumped.”

At least the surgeons did that good, so no worries there. Luckily the swelling is just from the breakage and replacement of bones, so his stitches aren’t infected. She thought to herself. But let’s add anti-septic cream just to be safe.

"How long ago was that?" Andrew questioned, ignoring her comment about his sister.

"Ten years ago." She hummed.

She must be around the same age as me. Andrew thought.

“Did it get better?” Andrew questioned as (Y/N) applied the cold cream onto his wounds.

The temperature of the medicine barely even got a reaction from Andrew since he was so focused on the conversation they were having.

“At the beginning? Of course not, in fact it spiraled downhill from there. Overtime I started picking myself up and it helped. It helps to surround yourself with people who cared about you. And if you have no one who cares, then learn to care for yourself. Your confidence in yourself will attract others to you.” (Y/N) explained. "We humans need to be there for each other, you know? We're social creatures after all."

“Hm.” Andrew hummed in acknowledgement, not really paying attention to her optimistic speech.

It's not like he had anyone to turn to. He remembers his girlfriend breaking up with him on the phone while he was rotting away in his apartment. Ashley had verbally abused her enough that she didn't want to see him or Ashley anymore. He doesn't have any other family than his parents who rejected him because "he and Ashley were too close and had to learn independence" his mother said on the phone during their last phone calls in quarantine. He's not exactly sure what she meant by it (especially with his memory gone), but so far all Ashley's done is pissed him off these past months he's remembered, so he really doesn't want to see her again anytime soon. He doesn't remember if he has friends or not either.

“Andrew, what do you like to do? What do you do in your free time?” (Y/N) questioned.

Andrew thought about her question. The three months that he remembers, all he did was sleep, starve, and watch TV (all with Ashley). He read books from his parents room out of boredom before losing the energy to even try and keep acting like he was actually remembering the plot—it took too much energy remembering the events that happened in the book.

When Ashley and Andrew did talk to each other during the time, it was to bicker and complain to each other about food and the other’s company (Ashley always started it).

“I don’t have any… None that I remember at least.” Andrew admitted.

“Don’t stress it. Your concussion could be affecting your ability to remember. We’ll find some new hobbies for you.” (Y/N) reassured. “Maybe books, card games, video games? I’ll find something.” She spoke as she redid the bandages on his ankles.

“Why are you even bothering?” Andrew sighed. “After some months I’ll be gone.” He pointed out.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t want you to be bored the entire time. Personally, I would hate being bedridden with nothing to do.” (Y/N) admitted.

What a sympathetic girl... Andrew thought.

“Whatever…” Andrew muttered, crossing his arms.

“Voilà! Whaddya think?” she questioned.

“It’s tight…” Andrew admitted, it didn't hurt much, but it did feel a bit annoying.

“That’s to keep your ankles in place. Your bandages aren’t bleeding much, so you should be ready for casting. I’ll leave a note for that.” She explained. “Any requests before I go?” (Y/N) questioned.

“You’re leaving?” Andrew questioned, sitting up and straightening his back before cringing at the pain shooting up his legs (and the pathetic tone in his voice).

“Yeah, my shifts almost over...” She paused and checked her watch. “It’s actually been over for 20 minutes now.”

Andrew muttered something under his breath, adverting his eyes as he looked away from her.

“You’re coming back tomorrow, right?” Andrew questioned.

“Ah… I don’t know. I don’t work in this branch, I work with kids in the pediatric branch.” (Y/N) smiled nervously.

I hope I’m not upsetting him. She thought to herself.

She tolerated Andrew’s company, for a man of course. It was surprisingly refreshing and the atmosphere is much more comfortable than it was when she first entered.

Andrew huffed, looking back at her.

“I like you better than the other nurses.” He admitted, crossing his arms and looking away again so she wouldn’t notice his red face.

“Aw. I’m sure you’ll enjoy Penelope tomorrow, she’s a wonderful nurse!” (Y/N) smiled. “I’ll make sure to visit you tomorrow before I leave work and check in on you, make sure you’re still intact and dandy, okay?” she smiled.

It’s like I’m making a promise to a child. She thought to herself.

Her thoughts were backed up by the spark in his eyes as he looked back at the nurse.

“Okay…” he muttered, pushing down the urge to smile.

“I’ll see you later, star!” she smiled, referring to his sticker on his chest. “Door open or closed?” she questioned.

“Closed.” Andrew answered.

“Alrighty! Click the button on the side of your bed if you need a nurse or need to ask something. In an hour you can drink a little bit of the water, but hold off on the pretzels until tomorrow. Make sure you get good sleep! Body’s natural way of healing.” She explained, flashing him a smile. “Goodnight, Andrew.”

She closed the door and took a silent breath in.

That went surprisingly well… She thought to herself.

She walked back to the staff room and unlocked the door, opening it to find Ruby, an old and stern nurse who worked day shift.

“You’re clocking out late.” Ruby gruffed. “Heard they were understaffed tonight.”

“Ah, yes. I had to go to patient 402’s room.” She smiled politely despite it being very draining to.

It's hard acting so happy all the time with her patients and coworkers. She liked work, but her face wasn't friendly, so she had to resort to smiling a lot (as annoying as it was for her).

“The moody patient with the psycho sister? How’d that go?” Ruby questioned.

“How did you know?” (Y/N) questioned, sparing her a glance.

Ruby’s day shift, so she comes in at 7 am and leaves at 7 PM. How would she knows about Andrew? she thought to herself.

“Penelope was in near tears when she clocked out. Told me how closed off the boy was and the sister was screaming and yelling at Penelope, talking about how she’s trying to steal her brother away from her—something like that…” Ruby muttered the last part to herself.

Psycho sister indeed. (Y/N) thought to herself.

“The girl wasn’t in there when I entered. The boy is reserved at first, but if you keep talking to him he’ll respond. Just be patient.” She spoke, shoving her leftover medical supplies into the supply closet.

“I swear, Penelope gets too butt-hurt about these patients. And I don’t understand how you can deal with those kids, snotty and crying all the time.” Ruby complained as (Y/N) snagged a computer seat and sat down, typing up her report on Andrew Graves condition.

“The kids are just scared. Give them a lollipop and it’s like Christmas.” She laughed, straining a smile. “Good talk rubes, but I’m going to head out.”

“See you tomorrow.” Ruby responded lazily.

“See ya. Good luck on your shift.” (Y/N) spoke.

She walked out of the staff room and locked the door behind her, taking the elevator to the first floor. She exited the elevator and walked out of the hospital lobby, walking to the staff parking lot to her car. She grabbed her keys from her scrubs pockets and unlocked her car, opening the door and buckling her seatbelt before driving off.

The drive is longer than she likes from her apartment but at least her thoughts plagued her so she didn’t have to be bored.

A murderer and a cannibal? Not one but two! Should I call the police? I mean, they must have reasons. They were locked in an apartment and resorted to eating their neighbor? Why would they be locked in an apartment? I’m sure if they went to the police they would’ve been understanding, I mean it was life or death and one dead is better than two. What am I thinking? I shouldn’t be thinking that at all, I’m a nurse. (Y/N) thought.

“Ugh…” She groaned.

She made it to her apartment and unlocked her door, opening it and closing it behind her, making sure it was locked before she walked into the kitchen.

I don’t feel like cooking, I don’t have the time for it anyways. She thought, opening her freezer.

She grabbed a quick microwaveable meal and put it in the microwave, setting it at the box’s desired time before walking away and grabbing her computer.

She checked her emails then started her medical essay for pneumonia and bronchitis. The microwave ringed and she grabbed her food and some drink, walking back her to computer and continuing her work while eating.

She finished her dinner and the final touches of her essay before sending it her college professors at her university. She stood up and stretched, walking to the kitchen and cleaning her dirty dishes before going to her room and picking out a nightgown. She walked to her shower and undressed, washing her hair and allowing the water to relax her nerves and sore legs from standing all day.

Check-ups tomorrow should be Rachael Gardener and Joseph Stall. I'll meet a new patient, Lily Wells, since she's switching healthcare. After that, it's walk-in's from there. I'll pay a visit to Andrew thirty minutes before my shift ends and check up on Hailey. (Y/N) thought in her head.

Andrew. He's sure a special case at the moment. Nurses are going to have to keep a watchful eye on him to ensure his condition doesn't worsen or cause any harm to himself or others. (Y/N) thought. Two broken open-fracture ankles and complete fractures in his legs. Just thinking of that pain makes me squirm. She cringed, stopping herself from washing her hair to shake the imaginary chills she created.

Not to mention his internal bleeding from his brain, his concussion from his fall must've caused that. Luckily he doesn't have any other injuries otherwise I'm pretty sure he would've been dead. She thought as she stepped out of the shower, drying her hair and body.

I should find some video games and books to keep him from being bored. I need to get some new books for Hailey to read too, my bookshelf is going dry for her. She thought as she started getting dressed. I'll also do a quick google search of Andrew and Ashley, get some information out of their situation (or at least the most of it).

Andrew woke up and stared out of his window blankly, watching as people walked in and out of the hospital, some in wheelchairs and some in casts. In a while, that'll be him leaving this place.

Or with the pace Ashley wants, tomorrow. Andrew thought, a frustrated huff escaping his mouth.

Who could blame him? He tries to kill himself and all of a sudden he lost basically all of his memory from when he was born to three months ago, that's almost twenty-two years of his life lost in just a flash!

Ashley told me to jump too. I shouldn't have listened to her and her damn rants, it would've caused so much less trouble, but I was going insane listening to her. Andrew thought.

Andrew's been wishing a lot of things lately. He's been wishing he could remember everything about himself, wished he never drank that supposed contaminated water that got him locked in the apartment which got him here in the first place, and wished he could get up and walk out of here.

Ashley visited him earlier. Something in him was happy to see his sister, but dread filled his stomach at seeing her walk into the room.

"Thought you said you weren't ever coming back?" Andrew spoke, recalling what Ashley said yesterday.

"I might've been a bit hasty... and inconsiderate" Ashley huffed, crossing her arms and glaring at Andrew. "I found a hotel nearby. I'm staying there until you get better."

"How will you pay for it?" Andrew questioned.

"Easy! I'll just kill people and take their wallets!" Ashley beamed, getting an glare sent her way.

"Don't do that, idiot. You'll get caught easily without me." Andrew sighed, already finding himself frustrated at their conversation so early in.

"Well, I could stay here! I'll stay in the bathroom when the nurses are in the room. I can keep you company and sleep in the same bed as you as we used to." Ashley teased.

"I have two broken legs, remember?" Andrew pointed out.

"I'll be extra careful." Ashley smiled, as he looked at her unamused. "Hmph! Be that way!" Ashley huffed, giving attitude as she crossed her arms. "Was it lonely without me last night? Did you have any nightmares?" Ashley questioned, her tone teasing with a hint of suggestion.

Nightmares? About what? Andrew thought. And what's with her damn tone?

He paused as he thought about anything the past three months.

"No. Why would I have any nightmares?" Andrew questioned

"Did you hit your head when you fell?" Ashley teased harshly, poking his cheek roughly. "Your nightmares! About that girl we killed back then? What was her name?"

"I don't remember." Andrew admitted. "Wait, we killed someone else?!"

"Wow, you must've actually hit your head hard." Ashley spoke, a little surprised.

"A nurse said I had a concussion and internal bleeding, so my memory isn't sharp at the moment." Andrew explained, still worrying about who else he's killed in his past.

"Ugh. That'll only slow us down..." Ashley sighed. "Would you like to know?"

"Might as well." Andrew sighed.

"You killed that girl when we were young! She had an asthma attack in a box and it was hilarious!" she cackled.

"That doesn't sound funny. She was a kid, wasn't she...?" Andrew murmured.

That nurse, (Y/N), she works in the pediatric branch. I don't think she'd be happy if she heard that. Andrew thought to himself. Why am I caring about her all of a sudden? I think I really need my brain checked out... hopefully by her...

"She had it coming though! She liked you and she was trying to separate the two of us!" Ashley tried to justify, noticing his reaction.

"Whatever you say, Ashley." Andrew sighed.

"I don't like this... I miss you, Andy! We were really close! You didn't need a girlfriend because you had me by your side!" Ashley whined. "It's because of one of these slutty nurses, huh? They're just holes for you to stick your dick into! You don't need them like you need me! I'm all you need!" Ashley started shouting.

Andrew's really starting to think their sibling-ship is bordering to relationship the way Ashley's been acting and saying.

Gross... Andrew thought.

He remembers the downright suggestive comments Ashley spoke in the apartment (and just a few minutes ago), along with the overprotectiveness he's experienced at times with her. Even if, just a bit, if their relationship was that (incest-like), it hasn't gotten physical since he places money that they would've done something while trapped in that apartment for three months. Andrew let out a sigh of relief, glad their relationship hasn't escalated to that point.

So there's still a turning point to get out of that. Andrew thought to himself.

It's simple really, separate from Ashley.

That's all he has to do, but with her co-dependency, it won't make it easy. Unless, all he does is reject Ashley's advances towards stepping-up their relationship and trying to escape the hospital.

"Andy, fucking listen to me!" Ashley shouted into his ear.

Andrew was snapped out of his thoughts as the world around him spun. Ashley was holding his hair and shaking his head back and forth, creating a headache behind his head and eyes.

"Ashley, let go! What part of concussion and internal bleeding didn't you understand?!" Andrew shouted, grabbing her hands as he fought them away from his hair.

He succeeded in pulling her hands away, but she didn't want to let go without locks of hair in her fists.

"I hate you, Andrew! I hate you! You and this stupid hospital and those stupid damn nurses! I hate it I hate it I HATE IT!" she screamed loudly.

The hospital door opened and three nurses came in, their hair disheveled and bun's messy from racing down the hallway.

"Ma'am, calm down. Otherwise I'm going to have to ask you to leave." One of the nurses spoke, their name tag reading Penelope.

"DON'T YOU TELL ME TO CALM DOWN, BITCH!" Ashley screamed at the poor woman, her finger jabbed into the nurse's chest. "I bet it's you! Yeah, you! You're the bitch manipulating my brother! I'll fucking kill you!"

"Ashley!" Andrew sternly shouted, catching her attention long enough for the three nurses to tackle the girl.

Ashley kicked and screamed as they got her, two nurses dragging her by her legs out of the room as the other nurse ran to go call security to escort her out (and keep her out).

Andrew watched as all the women crowded out of his room, a little surprised.

Well, she won't be coming back soon... that was surprisingly easy... Andrew thought to himself. Step one, separate Ashley from me. Complete.

Ten minutes went by and someone stepped into his open-doored hospital room. It was Penelope, the nurse from earlier (and yesterday).

"M-Mr. Graves. Would you allow me to check--?" she was harshly cut off.

"Get the hell out." Andrew growled, glaring at her with his vibrant green eyes.

She nodded and quickly turned around, about to leave before he spoke up.

"Wait." he spoke, effectively stopping the nervous girl as she turned around, fiddling with her hands. "When's that nurse coming back? (Y/N) (L/N)?" Andrew questioned.

"(Y-Y/N)...? I don't know... She's not in our branch." Penelope muttered sheepishly.

"Well, find out!" Andrew snarled. "I refuse to accept treatment from anyone else but her!"

"Okay!" Penelope exclaimed all too quickly (glad to no longer be taking care of Andrew) and ran out of the room.

He really meant it too. Any time a nurse tried to come into his room, he'd shout and throw anything nearby at them. It was a drastic change from yesterday's silence. Some nurses assumed he was scared as potential memories reappeared in his head, or perhaps he needed a higher dose of pain killers. They regretted entering the room after getting hit by pens and notebooks from the nightstands, he even threw his pillow.

"I hate working in this damn branch! Where the hell is (Y/N)?" Ruby shouted in the employee's only room, the elder asking for her help from her inferior.

The first chapter for this is done! This series will also be posted on AO3 and Wattpad! This series won the poll after a close tie, and I'm so glad it did because I was internally rooting for this to win! Don't worry, the other series' will be posted too after this one is completely posted for what I have so far.

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!

Chapters: Current chapter, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6 (in the works)

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