#crying over every single part of frank again

[frnkiebby]

his stupid pretty smile~🎃

[ghostfanwriter]

🎀🧰 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐭 𝟖 🧰🎀

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🎀 Pairing: Joel Miller x Virgin!Again!Reader

🧰 Setting: Lincoln. It is 2023 but Joel, Frank and Bill are as young as they were when they met in episode 3.

🎀 Synopsis: Your suffering was too much for your father to handle, so he decides to make you happy again.

🧰 Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut (no details for spoilers but... It's mouths everywhere and very graphic descriptions), softdom!Joel, Joel talking her through, a few descriptions of reader's hair being long.

🎀 Word count: Sixteen thousand....? (I wish I was joking, it is actually 16.5k, I can't control myself)

🧰 A/n: Finally it is here and finally you can read it and I'm sorry it took me so long, (also sorry it is so long and wordy) but I hope you cry and smile a lot!!! Thank you all so much for the support with this series all this time. I don't deserve you 🩷 I'm really happy with it and really proud of it. I hope it meets your expectations and I hope you feel it is a good way to give closure to the last chapter.

Comments, reblogs and all that sweet love are as always so, so appreciated. It makes my day to read all the kind and sweet ways in which you all relate to this story and how it resonates with all of you 🩷🧰🎀

"Does she need anything?" Joel asks, almost panting as he ran to the radio. Whatever it is. Your dad just has to say it and he's gonna go after it for you.

He hates every second it takes Bill to respond.

It is another sunny yet slightly chilly afternoon, the leaves in the trees begining to fall as summer comes to an end.

You're on your porch, practicing the part you remember of the song Joel told you he used to play for Sarah, when someone walks close to you. You look behind your shoulder, finding Frank with a wide smile on his face.

"Hi, dad... Is everything ok?" You ask, smiling softly at him, a smile that — as usually now — doesn't quite meet your eyes.

"I got you a gift." He says, and you carefully put the guitar beside your chair, looking curiously at your father. He hands you a medium sized canvas, and your temples tense when you see it.

The view from your bedroom window, except this time the weather isn't the focus of it, nor the reason why he painted it.

It's the house across the street. With fences around the large and grassy front yard, the sheep, the greenhouse in the back, and a simple, black shilhouete of a tall man. Of him.

You feel a pang of pain looking at the scene you know is never gonna happen. It's not like the painting of a sunny day, that you know will happen again after the rain ceases. It's something you'll never have, something — someone — you want, you need, and you just won't get to experience. Your eyes burn with a mixture of sadness and anger — a feeling you've never felt towards Frank before —, but you hide them from him, a single tear betraying you and rolling down your cheek.

"It's nothing compared to the drawing I did over the photo, but..." You joke, forcing a smile, mentioning the polaroid you took and drew on top of as you quickly dry your tear.

He nudges your arm playfully, sitting on the armrest of the chair you're seated on. "Guess I still have a lot to learn from you." He smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"Thank you, dad." You say, but you can't shake the confusion as to why your would dad gift you this.

So you could see it everyday as a reminder of what you could've had? Of what you're never gonna have?

About a week after you've hung that painting up on your bedroom wall — which is what you fall asleep to every night now, hoping to dream with it, with him—, you notice your dad working again on Sarah's painting.

"Why are you finishing it? It's too big for him to take it back with him." You say almost bitterly as you enter your dad's studio, startling him.

"Oh... I thought you were helping your dad in the garage." He takes a second before answering, seemingly nervous to see you. "You know I don't like unfinished work." He tries to sound nonchalant, a typical Frank smile on his lips. "Also maybe you could take a photo of it and gift it to him. Well... give, uhm, give it to Tess so she can give it to him." He corrects himself, his smile faltering. "I'm sure he'd appreciate that." Frank says, his face lightening up again with a smile packed with... Anticipation?

A glint of hope ignites inside you, combusting inside your chest, suddenly too big to fit inside you, but you kill it as quickly as it's born.

He's not coming back, don't nurture those roots any more.

"Alright." You sigh, your voice restrained. "Do you have anything here to throw away? Dad's gonna burn a few things from the garage, there's too much accumulating." You say.

Since the bonfire never happened — there wasn't really a mood for it —, the unusable wood and inflammable material started to pile up even more then they already were.

"A bonfire?" Frank's face twists with a mischievous smile, and you can't help but giggle.

"Not that dad will ever admit it." You smile softly, and he cheers.

He gives you a few broken or moldy frames, and you take them back to the middle of the street in front of your house, assembling them with the rest of the disposable wood your dad is gonna burn.

You sigh at the thought that this should've happened over two months ago. That Joel was supposed to help, to be there with you. To enjoy the bonfire, to play his guitar, to hold you afterwards...

Stop it. You promised you wouldn't cry over it.

You look at the house across the street and let out another sigh before drying a few tears from your cheeks and going to the garage to help your dad bring the rest of the things outside.

For the next two days your dad refuses to light up the bonfire, for whatever reason he didn't wanna tell you, and you didn't give it much thought.

"I think it's gonna rain." He said exasperatedly as an excuse while he covered the pile with a tarp, and you just went with it, despite the clear sky.

But today he came from a run for supplies with an urge to do it, and while he unpacked his truck, Frank took you inside to prepare a few pretty platters with some snacks for you all to eat at the bonfire.

"Now let's go get you ready." Frank says after you're done.

Your dad can't help but be performatic.

"Get ready?" You ask, confused, looking down at your baggy shirt and shorts, clothes you'd only ever wear on your period or when the weather was gloomy, and that since Joel went away became your everyday choices.

"Yes, sweetheart. Get ready. Take a shower, put on a nice dress, fix your hair and put some makeup on." Frank's face lightens up with his own words.

"You're still not over your doll phase, I see." You joke. Your dad always loved to dress you up.

You'd hop into the shower and come back to see your bed covered in different clothing options, and you were always amazed by how well he learned to do complex hairstyles just from teen and vintage magazines Bill found while outside. He'd dress you up in different outfits and you'd walk down the stairs in every single one of them while Bill judged them all.

Your family's very own little fashion show.

Needless to say, Bill always loved you in every single one of them, and your childhood is full of fond memories like that.

"I have a perfect doll at home, of course I'm gonna wanna dress her up." He kisses your temple.

"I don't... I'm not feeling it, dad. I'm sorry." You say quietly, looking down while you clean the counters, feeling bad for letting your father down on such a sweet tradition of the two of you, that always turns whatever you're doing into a special event.

And you can't help but remember how he helped you get ready the day Joel and Tess first arrived. How he said if they were to see you for some reason, you should be as pretty as you could. It makes you remember how Joel looked at you, how he smiled at you, how he said you were everything he thought he'd never see again.

"Hey, look at me." Frank says almost sternly, calling your attention, and you look up at him, your eyes watering already. "Darling... I want my daughter back!" He says, almost whining, frustration mixed with sadness making his voice shaky and his eyes watery.

"Dad..." You cry quietly, feeling bad. You know he is right. You can barely recognize yourself. But you feel powerless, you've just convinced yourself that there's no point.

He is not here to see your dresses, to smell your perfume, to praise your soft skin and hair. He's not here to see your smile.

"Honey, you gotta take care of yourself for you, even if he's not here anymore." Your dad can definitely read your mind. "Just like you always did. I want my sunny, giggly and happy girl back. I want you smiling, laughing, being silly. I want you in summer dresses and with your hair shinning, lipgloss on and smelling like our garden." He says, caressing your hair. "I know how happy all that makes you."

"I do miss it." You admit, with a pout and a smile, taking his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers with his and swinging your hands gently.

"Then c'mon, my silly doll. Let's get ready. Try to have fun. Even if it lasts for just a little bit." He smiles. "Then tomorrow we try again, fresh." He says, guiding you upstairs to your bedroom.

Frank went pale when he saw the pairs of lingerie Joel got you, but you told him what happened the night you put them on — that last night, and how Joel told you to get changed — and he sighed, telling you to put on a more... Simple one. You choose a romantic white and embroidered set.

You take a slow and warm shower, and leave the bathroom smelling like berries and roses, dressed in your lingerie and a robe. You walk out of your bathroom to find the dress Joel picked for you that day, carefully placed on the center of your bed, your dad smiling softly at you, his hand on his right cheek.

The dress is short, made of a light blue fabric with some small white and yellow daisies embroidered on the neckline, that has a lettuce trim. It has thin tie-up spaghetti straps and a defined waistline. It's supposed to hug your back and waist while having a more loose grip around your chest and thighs.

"He did choose the right one." Frank almost whispers, looking at you and then the dress.

"He did." You smile softly, your eyes watering just from thinking about that day as you run your fingers through the delicate embroidered flowers.

"Do you wanna wear it?" Your dad suggests, his eyes glimmering with both excitement and the glowy, warm dance of the flames of the bonfire — that Bill lit up while you showered — bouncing on the walls around your room.

"I don't know, dad..." You whisper, your sight blurry because of all the tears.

"You should wear the one the chose." Frank lifts your face. "It's a sweet memory you have with him." He dries the tears that roll down your cheeks.

You smile weakly, remembering him sitting down on your bathroom floor, his legs spread while he fixed your cabinet, talking about the QZ and thoughtfully helping you pick a dress even though he clearly had more important things to do.

You nod and Frank helps you in it, telling you how pretty you look while he ties the straps up your shoulders, before browsing through a few vintage catalogs after a simple and romantic hairstyle.

You sit in front of the mirror so he can start curling and doing your hair, and for the first time since Joel left, you have a sincere smile on your face. You've missed this, these simple moments with your dad, doing your hair, dressing up, talking about nothing, making up gossip (usually about your poor dad Bill) like you're in a beauty salon — or at least how Frank described women's beauty salons to be in the past.

After an hour of playful; "I heard Bill hasn't cut his hair in like... Three years" and "Oh, but they say he's so lovely under all that beard and grumpiness", your dad finishes up, his eyes watering as he takes a step back to take you in.

The romantic dress, your delicate white shoe and sheer socks, your soft hair cascading down your shoulders, with two delicate and small white ribbons on the back — a new addition he saw in a beauty catalog and begged Bill to find when your poor dad went out to look for supplies—, your rosey cheeks — courtesy of the beetroot blush —and glossy lips.

"You're perfect, my dove. You're the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen." Frank says, his voice tangled with emotion, and you smile.

"Got your good genetics." You joke, and he chuckles.

"I wish, my love." He whispers lovingly, running a hand on your hair. "But even though my blood doesn't run in your veins..." He starts, his voice thick and uncharacteristically serious as he takes your hands in his. "I guess all the time we've spent together passed some of my good looks to you." He jokes, and you laugh, giving him a hug.

"I love you, daddy." You say, and he tightens his embrace, his eyebrows furrowing at the sweet name.

"Long time since you last called me that." He smiles, his tears — that he tried so hard to hold back — now flowing freely down his cheeks.

"And now I love you even more than the last time I said it." You smile even wider, and you two only let go when you hear a gentle knock on your bedroom door.

"You're gorgeous, honeybun." Bill says from the doorway, his eyes red and watery, his expression soft and tender as he looks at you.

"I'm starting to think you two are gonna throw me in the fire as an offering." You say playfully, wondering why they're being so affectionate about the bonfire.

Maybe...

No. You're just hurting yourself.

"Well, now that you mentioned it... That's not a bad idea." Bill chuckles softly. "I think the Gods would love you. Probably the best offering they've ever had. We'd have good crops and healthy animals for the rest of our lives." He says, playfully looking at Frank, and you remember how Joel used to call you angel, the memory of his low and husky voice in your ear making your eyes wetter.

Bill nods at Frank, who nods back. "I'll be by the fire." Frank says, kissing your forehead one last time before holding your chin. "My pretty girl." He smiles at you, leaving your bedroom, drying his face with his sleeves before touching Bill's shoulder and giving him a peck on the lips as he passes by him on the doorway, whispering something to him.

Bill steps closer to you, taking your hands in his, caressing the back of them, his eyes lovingly roaming around your face. "You are my daughter." He starts, his voice proud and shaking. He has never let you doubt that you're his child, even if you don't share the same blood. "And you know I'd do anything to see you safe and happy. Anything. Even if it doesn't make me happy." He says, his eyes reddening, and you tilt your head, softly squeezing and caressing his hands, soothing him.

"Daddy..." You say softly, your heart aching.

"But that's not possible because if you're happy I'm also happy." He smiles, his voice barely coming out. "There's no scenario I can imagine in which you are happy and safe — his voice breaks — and I'm not happy for seeing you happy and safe." He says, tears rolling down his cheeks. "I love you more than anything, my love. You're the best and most important thing this life has ever given me, and I only am the man I am today because I've had you with me all those years." He says between tears, and you tenderly dry his face with your thumbs.

"And I couldn't ever ask for a better family. A better father. I know all you do is to protect me. Even if it hurts at times." You say softly, finally coming to peace with what Joel asked you.

How could you ever hate your father for doing that he thinks is best for you? For trying to protect you?

"I want you to forgive me." He whispers, his head tilted down and his eyes looking up at you. "Forgive me for not allowing you to experience love." He cries, and your heart breaks along with his voice.

"Daddy." You cry, squeezing his hands. "You love me so much, you show it to me everyday. I know love. I know your love, dad's love... And for a while I knew Joel's love too." You whisper the last part, but he doesn't react to it.

"I'd be so miserable without you and your father, my love. You two are everything I care about. The only reason I'm still here. The only reason why I've made this place so good and comfortable." He says, his crying intensifying while his trembling hands move to tenderly caress your hair.

"And I know I'd be happy as long as I were with the two of you, no matter where we were. Even if we lived in a QZ, in the middle of the woods or anywhere. It's not this place that makes me greatful. It's the both of you." You smile, kissing his wet and salty cheek, and he smiles back.

"Damn good thing we have the fences though, right?" He chuckles playfully, giving you a side look as you kiss him.

"Absolutely." You smile. "The hot water and fruits may also make me love you a little more." You giggle softly, and he chuckles.

"I'm charming like that." He laughs, taking your arm in his. "I love you, I always will. And I love the woman you've become. You're strong, you're beautiful and you deserve all the happiness you can manage to have in what's left of this world." He says, for the first time — except while teaching you how to survive and defend yourself — talking to you like you're an adult.

"I'm only all that because I'm your daughter. Because you raised me." You whisper, your voice full of pride and love. "I love you too." You touch your head to his shoulder tenderly, your love for each other filling the air around you while he holds you for what feels like forever — but still not long enough.

"C'mon, your dad is waiting for us." He says after a while, and he fixes your hair before walking you downstairs, his arm tangled with yours.

He goes slowly, no rush as he sometimes steals glances at you and smiles. You don't understand why, but this moment feels special. If feels like you're gonna remember this feeling forever.

You find the front door open, and he guides you towards it. From inside you see Frank smiling by the bonfire as he looks at you, and you see his lips moving, whispering 'my princess', making you smile back at him.

You walk outside your house with your arms still tangled with your dad's, and as soon as you look at the bonfire...

It can't be.

"You. She needs you." Bill cried on the radio, inviting Joel to come back, to stay with you. To help him make you happy.

You eyes well up instantly, your mouth hanging open and your nose burning with the sudden rush of tears flooding your eyes, and you try to run, but your dad holds you back, taking your face in his hands.

"Honeybun..." His voice is shaking. "You know I love you more than anything in this life, don't you?" He asks and you nod emphatically, repeating 'yes' over and over as tears roll down your cheeks. "Promise me you'll always love me more than anything too?" He asks, his eyes watering as he smiles adoringly down at you.

"I could never love anything more than I love you, daddy." You cry, hugging your dad tight. He kisses the top of your head and gives you a reassuring look.

"I love you." He whispers, releasing your arm. You look at Frank, and he nods, his cheeks wet.

You turn back to the bonfire. To him. And you run.

You run desperately into his arms, open and ready to hold you. His body stumbles back as you jump into his embrace.

God, how you missed his arms, how you missed his smell, his warmth. You can't even speak, letting the tightness of your embrace speak for itself as you grip his shirt and shoulder blades tight and he almost lifts you off the ground, his heart beating so fast that you can feel it against your chest.

"Joel..." You cry in his ear, squeezing him as much as you can to make sure this is real. He is here. With you.

He cries your name back, holding the back of your head and wrapping his other arm protectively and tightly around your waist, his tears wetting your hair. Your hair that he missed so much, with the softness and the scent he craved so much, the scent of your skin, the feel of it, the glow you emanate, that seems to leave your pores and intoxicate him.

He pulls back slightly, his hands holding your waist and cupping your face — that way he always cups your face —, his thumb caressing the delicate skin underneath your eye, his eyes looking adoringly down at you, like you're the most precious, most special and delicate thing left in this planet. Like if you're the sole reason behind his wide smile, that seems to mimic yours. Wider than you've ever seen before.

Your presence gives him an instant sense of peace, a sense of belonging, of purpose. He wants to preserve this. Your wellbeing, your safety, your peace, your smile. Make sure you're well fed, healthy, taken care of. Make sure you're happy and loved.

It makes him want to forget about the old Joel. The sad and bitter, stoic and practical man that wouldn't want to get involved with you under the cowardice of not being good enough for you. He will be good enough. Vulnerable enough, open enough, romantic enough. He will allow himself to love you. He is gonna make damn sure of it everyday, he promises to himself. There won't be one day he won't do everything in his power to make you the happiest woman alive.

The old violent and deadly Joel will be preserved though. Kept quiet in a corner, always vigilant and attentive, ready to surface if he ever has to protect your town, your parents or especially you. Ready to not measure means to keep you safe.

You look behind him and see three big bags on the floor. "Are you... Are you staying?" You ask with a wide and contagious smile, almost out of breath, and he nods, his eyes somehow becoming even softer.

"Only if you want me to." He smiles, like you could ever say no to him, like if you could ever not want him to stay. Ever not want him.

Your smile somehow widens even more and you hug him tight again, like if any inch between you two could perhaps give him a chance to leave again. A chance he'd of course never take, never leave you again, never not have you again.

You enjoy his warmth for a little longer, remembering how soft and comfortable his embrace feels, how his fluffy flannel makes his chest feel like a pillow. How safe and special you feel in his arms. The arms that had no responsibility to love you, to choose you, but that did anyway.

And he holds you close. His strong arms keeping you shielded and protected, warm and safe. He never wants to forget what it feels like to hold you again. His heart seems to find a calmer pace as it feels your own beating against his chest.

A few moments later you remember that Joel isn't the only person last on earth and turn back to your parents, their arms holding each other's, Frank resting his head on Bil shoulder, with a smile that almost matches yours and Joel's, and Bill with a stiff expression that breaks when he sees the pure bliss and joy on your face. Any remnant of doubt or uncertainty leaving his shoulders as he sees the smile and the glow he missed so much these past few months.

You run to them, hugging both at the same time, your face nesting between their shoulders, and they hug you back, protectively wrapping you in their arms. You all share a silent understanding.

This is what life must be. Full of love and trust. Full of people who wouldn't hesitate before doing what's best for one another. Who wouldn't hesitate to protect and care for each other.

"He moves one finger you didn't want him to and you tell me, you hear?" Bill says as you pull back a little, still in their arms.

"Bill..." Frank laughs.

"You raised me, dad. You know I'd kill him myself." You joke, and Bill's eyes glimmer with amusement.

"That's my girl." He laughs proudly. "She's my daughter." He playfully nudges Frank, like it'd be news to him.

"Yeah, it shows." Frank laughs back, and you hug them tight again. "Go stay with him, love. Your dad and I are gonna bring out the food." Frank says, and you nod, walking back to Joel, who once again takes you in his arms, holding you tightly, as if trying to make up for lost time before letting go and sitting down at one of the benches your dad put by the bonfire.

You sit beside him, your body facing him, and he fixes your hair tenderly.

"The ribbons look nice." He compliments, and you smile. He notices the smallest new details about you, and it makes you feel special and pretty.

"Thank you." You purr, feeling your cheeks warmer than before.

"I got you something." He smiles at you, reaching behind himself to pick a bouquet he made with some wild flowers he found on his way back to Lincoln and some craft paper Tess helped him sort out in the QZ. It makes you smile, your eyes welling up.

"Joel... They're beautiful." You manage to say, your voice barely there.

"Some are already dying, but they are the ones closer to the QZ. The closer to you, the brighter they are." He says softly as he fixes the tie-up straps of your dress, and your heart melts. "Just like me." He whispers, his eyes red, and you smile lovingly at him.

You notice there's a paper amidst the flowers, and you take it in your hands, finding it to be a photo of Joel, that's all wrinkled, like he was planning to throw it away.

"When is this from?" You ask curiously, smiling up at him, his cheeks covered by a small blush.

"That's..." He clears his throat. "The photo I took when I got you the polaroid camera, to test it. I took it before eating the food you made me." He chuckles. "I thought it looked terrible, but then I thought you'd kill me if I ever told you it existed and I never gave it to you." He smiles, gently taking your free hand in his.

"I would." You smile, tenderly caressing his cheeks in the photo, feeling his thumb caress the back of your hand.

"Sometimes I'd doubt myself." He whispers, like he's just thinking out loud, his eyes traveling around your face, a small and silly smile on his lips. You frown, tilting your head slightly as you turn to face him. "I'd wonder if you were really like this." He smiles, and you feel your cheeks heating up even more, in a way only he can make them. "Not even the photo you gave me would convince me that you were this sweet." He says with an adoring smile.

"Do you remember this dress?" You ask quietly, and he gently plays with the fabric covering your thighs.

"I knew you'd look perfect on it." He smiles. "It's like it was made for you." He says.

"Just like I was made for you." You whisper back, a shameless smile on your lips.

His eyes are wet as he looks at you. "I missed you." He whispers, his lower lip trembling.

"I missed you too." You whisper back, resting the bouquet on your lap and cupping his face, bringing his forehead to touch yours.

He nuzzles your nose, fighting back the instinct to lean forward for a kiss.

"Guess we're doing it... The little ranch." He says instead, sniffing softly and beckoning to the house across the street, a single tear falling from his cheek onto yours.

"Am I still invited to move in with you?" You laugh softly, caressing his stubble, and he responds the laughter.

"Meh... We'll see how it goes." He playfully shrugs with a smile. "I wouldn't wanna do it without you. You're the most important part of any of my plans." He whispers, his tone soft and serious as he squeezes your hand and turns it to kiss the delicate skin of your palm. "We're gonna stay with your parents while I renovate our house — our house... — and then when it is perfect, we're gonna move in. We're gonna be patient until then." He says, and you frown. You know exactly what he means.

"Joel..." You half whine. Why does he has to be such a good man?

"I know, baby. But that's not what I want from you. And I promised your father I'd have everything settled before I touched you. So both of you know I want this." He sounds sincere, so sincere, so honest, it breaks your heart. "All of this. And mostly you." He smiles.

You've been through it, but your stomach freezes at the thought of your dad and Joel talking about whether the two of you did... That.

"Did he ask you if we had s-...?" You ask, your voice small and mortified, your always sweet eyes wide open.

"We didn't use the words themselves." He quickly says when he sees the panic in your eyes, caressing your hand soothingly. "But I assured him we haven't... Actually done it yet." He says. "And he made me vow to keep it that way until I'm settled here."

Your dads return before you can respond, with trays of kebabs, some savory oat muffins you made earlier that day, fruits and a few drinks.

You all start eating, and you notice how hungry Joel seems, how he eats like he's hiding his real hunger, and it breaks your heart. But as you cook him another kebab over the bonfire flame, you get a glimpse of what life's gonna look like from now on. Taking care of him, making sure he never has to go for a day without being well fed and loved.

"Only thing missing here is some s'mores." He chuckles, looking down at you with a full mouth and a silly smile.

"Oh, I've never had those...!" You gasp, almost whine, your eyes shining with the idea of it.

"They're amazing, you would've loved them." He smiles, cleaning a few crumbs on your cheeks.

You and Frank talk and have fun while Joel and Bill mostly just watch, both still testing the waters with each other. Bill tries to read Joel, noticing how his eyes shine when he looks at you and how happy you seem with him, how close together the two of you are sitting, with your thighs glued to each other's; and Joel tries to not be too invasive or physical for Bill's liking, even though he wants nothing more than to keep you close and his arms around you for good measure.

Bill eventually joins in the conversation, asking Joel about the path from the QZ to Lincoln. About what he saw, if he noticed anything different or concerning. Joel explains how he covered his trail and describes his encounters with the dead and the infected, and you worriedly try to check his arms under his flannel, making him laugh softly at your worry, reassuring you he's fine.

···

After you're all full, Frank asks your help to bring the dishes back inside, and you follow him. After you set everything in the sink he tells you to leave it to clean the next morning and takes you to his studio, where he hands you the finished painting of Sarah.

"He gave you flowers, right? Go give him your gift." He smiles at you, and you smile back.

You walk outside the house with the canvas behind your back, and you spot Joel and your dad talking to each other. There aren't any big smiles yet, but it's happened before, so you hope it's gonna happen again.

You go to them, turning the canvas towards him, and his eyes swell as soon as he sees it, his eyebrows moving and his lips quivering.

Frank captured Sarah perfectly. Her soft eyes, her hair, her freckles and dimples. Her silly smile is almost as bright as the real thing used to be. He can't help but caress the canvas, like he could feel the soft skin of her cheeks.

Joel cries like he's seeing his girl again, like she's there with them, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't feel a breeze pass by him when he saw the painting. Like she's by his side, present, approving of his much longed and deserved happiness. Like she's smiling from wherever she is, finally resting now that he has all this. Now that he has a safe and loving environment for himself. Now that he has you, like she knows you're gonna take care and love her father.

He hugs you, no words needed to express his gratefulness, how much he loved it.

"It's perfect. It's her. My babygirl." He manages to say between tears anyway, and when you pull back, Bill walks closer to Joel, looking at the painting, his own eyes watering.

"I know you're gonna be everything my daughter needs, Joel." He says. "Because you are a father too." His voice breaks. "You know exactly how much she means to me. I... I Promise I'll do my best to rebuild my trust in you. For her. We're gonna make this work." He whispers, and Joel nods, a determined look in his eyes. He knows it's not easy for Bill, and he wants to earn his respect once again. "And besides... She's my daughter. I know she'd deal with you before I had to step in." He chuckles, and Joel laughs.

"I know she would." Joel agrees, his eyes watering as he looks at you.

"You take good care of my little girl. You make her happy. You keep her safe. You keep that gorgeous smile on her face." He says, turning back to point at you and your wide smile, tears pouring from his eyes. "And we ain't ever gonna have a problem again." He tells Joel, who once again nods, offering his hand for your dad to shake.

He's not good at being vulnerable around others, but he hopes that's another feeling you might restore in him.

"That's everything I'll ever do." Joel says, and they shake hands, a mutual feeling of respect and trust being established between the two men. When Frank joins them, Joel offers his hand for him to shake.

"Oh, c'mon, I'm not Bill!" Frank laughs, pulling Joel into a hug that he happily responds to, feeling grateful for Frank's trust in him this whole time, and for the portrait he's still holding.

"Thank you, Frank." He whispers as they hug. "For trusting me even when I didn't deserve your trust. And for giving my girl back to me." He says, his eyes once again down to Sarah's painting.

"It was an honor to paint her." Frank smiles. "And she's not the only girl I manage to get back to you." He smiles back at you. "You take good care of my baby. Her father is a psycho, you know that." He jokes, and Joel chuckles.

"We all are to protect who we love." He nods, the old Joel speaking. Lethal when it comes to protecting you.

"You're part of our family now. Thank you for making our daughter so happy." Frank says, nudging Bill for him to say something.

"Yeah, yeah. Family." He says, his voice dry and choked in his throat. "We'll do our best to make her happy." He says, and Joel nods.

They all turn to look at you, and you feel like you could burst with love and happiness. Your parents and the man you love. All going out of their way to make you safe and happy.

"Love! Photos!" Frank tells you excitedly, and you run inside to get your camera.

"Frank..." Bill mumbles, but Frank shushes him.

"Bill today is a special day for our daughter." He says, his voice firm. "We are taking photos." He fixes Bill's hair tenderly, Joel smiling as he watches the two of them.

No wonder you're so special. Being raised by these two.

You come back with the camera Joel got you, and you first take a photo of the three of them together. Frank standing in between as they all give you their best smiles.

Then Joel takes a picture of you and your dads, smiling to himself at your bright smile.

"It looks perfect." He smiles, and Frank takes the camera from him.

"Go on, love. You two. Get the flowers, where are the flowers?" He says, and you and Joel pose together, his arm around your waist while you're wrapped around him, holding your bouquet, a happy and loving smile on your lips, and a wide one on his. "Beautiful. Now a kiss!" Frank says, and Bill shifts on his feet.

Joel is a little hesitant, but you gently cradle his face and touch your lips to his for the very first time since he went away, wanting to save the real kiss for when it's just the two of you. His arms tighten around you, and your dad cheers.

"Beautiful!" He says, showing you the photo.

"Our second first kiss." You smile, looking at the photo, then at Joel.

"You haven't kissed yet?" Frank gasps, and you shake your head. "Oh, and I got it on camera! That's so precious, my love." Frank says lovingly, and Bill smiles as he looks at the photo as well, your smile even as your lips are pressing against Joel's leave no room for him to doubt just how happy you're gonna be with him.

After a few more conversations and photos you all decide to get some rest. Your parents kiss the top of your head and go to their bedroom, Bill glancing at Joel one last before going inside, nodding at him.

All of the dishes are forgotten in the sink. "A tomorrow morning problem!", like Frank said earlier. And the bonfire, still burning its last flames, to be dismantled and cleaned the next morning as well.

You help Joel put his bags and the painting in the living room, only his backpack on him as the two of you go upstairs, holding hands, a peaceful sense of belonging consuming him as he thinks about how this is his life now. About how you don't have to hide, to lie, to suppress your feelings or worry about not having each other the next day.

And he doesn't have to worry about trust or boundaries. They're all set, and he wants more than anything to prove to your dads that he's not just after good food and a safe and comfortable bed with a pretty girl laying on it. He wants you. Happy and safe, his.

···

You reach your bedroom and open the door for him to walk in. He closes his eyes and smiles when the sweet, floral and citric scent he missed so much enters his nose.

He sets his backpack down and looks at you while you carefully place the bouquet on your dresser and fix your hair in your mirror.

"I forgot how good your bedroom smells." He smiles, walking behind you and looking lovingly at your reflection on the mirror, placing his hands on your waist. You turn around, wrapping your arms around his waist, inhaling his own scent.

"You smell good, too." You whisper, snuggling your cheek to his chest, indulging in his comforting warmth, in his presence, in his smell, the gentle rhythm of his heart, the rumble of his breathing.

"Your dad told me to shower when I got here." He chuckles, pulling you out of your trance as his hands trace gentle circles on your back.

"He made me get all dressed up." You giggle softly, certain that it was Frank that told him to shower, and he gently releases his grip on you, lifting your chin with his thumb so you look up at him.

"You're beautiful, my angel." He whispers.

The warm and now softer glow from the bonfire below your window casts a beautiful and intimate light on both of you, outlining Joel's face perfectly. All of his features; his big and sculpted nose, his big and soft brown eyes, his pouty lips, his cheekbones and jawline. His hair, that's still a bit wet near the roots, yet already fluffy and messy on its — now slightly longer — curls, his stubble — the tiny little white hairs starting to flourish —. Everything perfectly layed out for your eyes, making you remember exactly why the thoughts of him made you so breathless.

And when your eyes land back on his, you notice their softness towards you. A softness they only acquire when looking at you. A softness that seems to draw your eyes lower, to his lips, that makes you lick your own, anticipating feeling his touch again, his warmth... his taste.

Like you've rehearsed it, at the same time that you get on your tiptoes, he slowly leans down, gently cradling your face and touching his lips to yours. Intoxicating you with his hot breath against your nose, breathing the same breaths as the warm air that leaves his lungs fills your own, his gentle yet firm hands on your lower back and cheek, the roughness of his fingers on your skin, the softness of his wet lips caressing yours.

Feeling his beard tingle your face again makes you melt into his arms, it makes you melt and it makes you moan softly into his mouth, making him hold you tighter and gently tug on your hair, deepening the kiss even more and grunting as he tastes what he's missed for so long. The sweetness he thought he'd never have in his hands again.

Your tongues dance together in a passionate and intense display of intimacy. Intimacy that you've learned not long ago, that he taught you all about. An intimacy that makes him feel like you've known each other your whole lives, like your love follows you way before this life and these bodies. Like your souls have been longing to be reunited for much longer than just a few months.

You tug at his jacket, wanting to squeeze him, to make sure he's real and all yours, to try and make him feel just how much you've missed him, to have him as close as possible to you.

"Baby... We talked about this." He pulls back to whisper breathlessly over you lips when you start pressing your body against his, the kiss going from slow and romantic to hungry and needy, the sensations traveling from your tongue directly to form a pool between your legs.

"Please, Joel. I need you." You moan, burying your face on his neck, kissing the warm skin there.

"Baby..." He tries to protest, feeling that same vulnerability you always erupt inside him.

"We don't have to do anything we haven't done yet." You purr, looking up at him. "Please, Joel. I thought about you every single night." You say, and you see his nostrils widening, his chest expanding and his jaw clenching as you confess to have done what he also did.

Every single night after the first few weeks, when pain and guilt started to give space to the longing and need to be together again. Nights where he laid on his side and held himself tight, imagining what you'd feel like, remembering how warm your skin felt against his, how good you smelled, how much he missed your nails on his back, your fingers curling on his hair, your lips burning his skin, your warm and wet flesh around his fingers. Nights where he held your photo to smell the - fainter by the day - perfume you sprayed on it and to look at your sweet smile, remembering how your face contorted and how you cried his name, the sound still echoing in his mind.

"You're gonna kill me." He whispers, pulling away, leaving you whimpering softly as he walks towards your window, resting his hands on the bottom of the frame, looking at the house across the street. The one he chose to live in with you. To make yours.

You walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso and resting your head against his back. "It's ok." You whisper, feeling his back expand with his heavy breathing. "I can wait. I like that you want to wait." You say against his back, your hands caressing his stomach and chest, and after a few moments, he turns around, facing you, his eyes scanning your face.

"Did you tell the truth?" He asks, his voice low and quiet. "Did you think about me like that?"

"I did." You confess again, feeling your cheeks warm up as your gaze drops to his old and dirty boots and your delicate shoes and white sheer socks.

"Then why do you need my help, angel?" He asks with a soft smile, almost a smirk, gently cupping your face and pulling it up so you look at him, his thumb caressing your cheeks.

"Because I couldn't... do it without you." You purr, leaning into his touch until he removes his hand, making you whimper as he once again walks away from you. "Joel..." You whisper, watching him.

He hears it and chuckles softly before sitting on the edge of your bed and looking at you. His gaze just like you remembered it. Hungry and lustful but somehow still soft and lovingly, his dark eyes glistening with the flames of the bonfire that are weakly dancing around your room. The intensity of his gaze makes you shift on your feet while you wait for him to say something, your fingers nervously curling around one another.

He pats his lap, calling your attention. "Come here, angel." He calls, his voice as soft and demanding as always, and before you even process it, your legs are obediently walking towards him, earning an approving smile. "Good. Come here." He instructs again, this time pulling gently on your waist for you to sit across his lap.

"I missed the way you talk to me." You confess in a whisper.

"You did?" He asks, tucking your hair behind your ear while his eyes roam around your face, a silly smile on his lips.

You nod, your eyes catching his gaze as you just stare at each other in silence for a bit.

"I like the way you tell me what to do." You purr, your shaky voice betraying how nervous you are to be so close to him again.

"And I love how you trust me..." He responds quietly, like he's just thinking out loud. "... How responsive you are to me." He whispers.

You look up at him, your eyes glistening behind a thin layer of blissful tears. "Responsive?" You ask softly, and he smiles.

"You'll see what I mean." He reassures you, carefully grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling it above your other shoulder so he can kiss the soft and sensitive skin of your perfumed neck, earning a breathy gasp and a pleased frown from you. In response, he nibs and sucks on it, squeezing your thigh gently, his hands caressing your skin, going underneath your dress to caress the soft spot where your thighs and your hips connect.

"Joel..." You whisper, trying to give him better access and simultaneously wrap your arms around him so you can touch him back.

He places both hands on your waist and gently pushes you off his lap, and you're quick to turn and straddle him, just like you did that first night on your armchair, your hands going under his arms to tug at his shoulder blades while his go to your waist and hips, holding you firmly - squeezing you so good - and tugging at the soft fabric of your dress while his lips trail wet kisses from your neck to you shoulders as his rough fingers gently undo the straps of your dress, kissing his way back from your shoulders to your jaw, and from your jaw to your already open and inviting lips.

You moan into the kiss, his hot breath caressing your skin and his beard burning you and making you lean even closer to him.

He grunts as you tug on his hair, your hips instinctively rolling against his, and he starts pulling your dress up your thighs with the back of his fingers, caressing and kneading the tender skin of your thighs as he reveals them, his worn out and barely-there nails greedily digging in the soft skin of your hips and bottom in an eager attempt to make up for the time apart, to remember and to feel everything he thought about every single night, to never again forget how you feel like under his touch.

He continues pulling your dress up, and you help him by lifting your arms, allowing him to fully reveal your soft and perfect - somehow even better than he remembered - curves, your delicate white set of lace bra and panties... And he goes numb, his eyes locked on your body and his lips apart, his hands moving up your waist, his thumbs caressing your breasts and rolling around your clothed nipples, his chest moving deeply as he tries to catch his breath, lost in the sight of you.

"I missed you so much, my angel." He whispers, his gaze making its way back to your own, his eyes soft and watery, filled with unspoken words of love and passion, with the longing of all those weeks apart, all those nights where he'd have done anything to be by your side.

All the times he caught himself looking into nothingness, lost in thoughts about you, about how you must've been and how much he wished to be doing the same nothing, staring into the same nothingness, but with you. How much he missed all of you. Every single smile, breath and noise you make. Every wrinkle in the corners of your eyes when you smile, every mark, spot and stretch, everything you'd be insecure about if you've grown in a regular setting. Things he'd never change about you.

He couldn't think of a single thing to change about you to make you more special, more perfect for him.

"I thought about you all day long. And you came back to me." You whisper back, your eyes not as shy as his, your tears flowing freely down your cheeks and onto your neck, inspiring some of his own to make the same path, rolling down his cheeks and soaking his beard. "When my dad was dressing me up... I kept thinking that maybe..." You begin crying softly. "That maybe it was because you'd come back. But... Thinking about it, after so long... It hurt... And I kept burying these feelings down but..." You smile brightly up at him, your eyes leaking blissful tears. "But you came back for me."

"I'd always come back for you." He says with a smile, his voice thick as he once again wraps his arms protectively around you, cradling your face against his chest. "I'd never not come back for you. Even if not now... I'd come back for you one day. I'd never let you be alone, my baby." He promises as he holds you behind your right knee and the nape of your neck, standing up with you in his strong arms and effortlessly fliping you over so you're lying on your back, on the edge of your bed.

"I wanna be yours. For the rest of my life." You say, caressing his hair with both hands as he kisses the now salty skin of your neck and collarbones.

"One day." He promises against your skin before looking into your eyes, his face hovering torturingly close to yours. "The day our - our - house is ready for us. That day; or whatever day after that, when you're ready for me..." He says, his voice softer than the dandelions your father planted near your garden, the dandelions that for so many sunsets heard the name 'Joel' as you exhaustively called and cried for him, with the hope that that day he'd finally come back through those gates. "That day I'll make you mine." He whispers before kissing your lips again, a short kiss before his lips move to your cheeks, where he continues. "That day I'll show you what it feels like to be mine. What it feels like to be a woman." He whispers before kissing, biting and sucking on your neck, right where he knows your vein is.

"Joel..." You moan again, squeezing his bicep through his flannel.

"I'll show you what it's like to be my woman." He whispers, his voice now lower and raspier, huskier. "I'll show you what it's like to belong to a man. To belong to me." He promises, his eyes soft and filled with a possessive passion for you.

He kisses your lips again, a short and wet peck that makes you moan for more, tugging at his hair and looking down when he draws a wet path of kisses down your throat... your collarbones... your chest... his wet and warm lips kissing the outline of your bra before engulfing your clothed left nipple in his warm lips, a sensation that makes you ache between your legs and your back arch up into his touch.

You whimper when he lets go, but as soon as you open your eyes, he's leaning in for another kiss, his hands leaving your waist and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra and reveal more of you to his sore — hungrier by the second — eyes.

"Ahnn..." You moan, your back arching higher against his body when he takes your bare nipple in his mouth, the wetness and warmth of his mouth making your legs move in response to the growing warmth and wetness between them, your toes tugging at the sheets.

"You're so fucking soft, baby." He mumbles against your skin, his eyes closed as he rolls your nipple around his tongue, suckling on it.

"Joel... It... So... Good..." You moan nothings into the air, recalling the first and last time he did this to you, how good it feels to have him so close, how special you feel with how he takes his time with you, how he doesn't make you feel like this is about pleasing him, but showing you how much he can pleasure you too.

"I'll make you feel so good, my baby." He says before kissing the lower side of your breast, then your waist, stomach, your bellybutton... Then the skin above the hem of your panties, his hands reaching underneath you and holding and kneading your bottom as he kisses along the whole waistband of your panties, his eyes locked on yours as his fingers tangle on the delicate and thin fabric.

"I know you will." You whisper, making his eyes harden with lust before softening at the sight of your sweet smile. He stands up by the bed and gently pulls your panties down your legs, upwards his chest, and he smells it, closing his eyes and growling at your scent. He places both of your feet on his chest, caressing your legs as he admires the woman — the angel — underneath him.

Seeing you fully exposed to him for the second time, this time knowing he's not betraying your dad's trust, that he's doing it the right way... It makes him forget how to breathe, his hands caressing your thighs, his eyes travelling around your body, pure love and desire burning in their softness. It makes him allow himself to fully drink you in and shamelessly indulge in just how perfect you are, in how every curve of your body seems to have been sculpted in his dreams. Like you were really made just for him, exactly how he wants and needs you.

"You're perfect." He whispers in awe, more like just an observation for himself as he kisses your ankles — with those cute fucking socks — and then his way up your legs, simultaneously lowering himself back between them, kneeling on the floor at the edge of your bed, pulling you closer to the edge. "Mine." He says when his lips reach the inner sides of your knees, his hands squeezing the front of your thighs, his arms under your thighs. "Perfect for me. All for me." He possessively squeezes your thighs as he kisses their inner skin, making you moan when he parts your legs, the air once again leaving his lungs to be filled only with the awe of you.

With the scent of you, the wetness and the color, the softness and the taste... Dammit, he can't wait to finally actually taste you, to finally feel your tender and warm flesh against his lips, your wetness coating his lips and tongue, your muscles contracting underneath and around his tongue.

"I shaved for you again." You purr, removing him from his daydreams, invitingly spreading your legs wider for him, shamelessly offering all of you for him. In a way you'd only ever do for him, even if he never came back and someone else did. "I did all this time... Hoping you'd come back." And you did it, longing to see the same darkness in his eyes you saw the first time you said those words. The same darkness you're seeing right now.

"I'd have loved you either way, angel." He whispers, kissing your mount. "A real man doesn't care about that, baby. Certainly not in a sweet girl like you. But I do appreciate the view." He growls before kissing the skin where your thighs connect to your core, earning a surprised and sweet gasp from you. "I can't think of a thing that'd make me not want you." He whispers, kissing your folds before tasting you.

"Ahhnn..." You moan softly, almost laughing with bliss at the feeling of his tongue licking along your slit, diving onto your clit, swirling around the small nub. "Joel... Hmmm..." You moan, your eyes already closed and your breathing already heavy.

"I haven't even started yet, baby. And that's what I mean with responsive..." He smirks before exploring every corner and fold of you with his tongue, his beard deliciously scratching and bruising your skin. "You're so fucking responsive to me, to the smallest little touches."

You try to spread your legs even further for him, eager to give him as much as possible, and he notices your struggle with the need to give him more and to soothe yourself somehow, your hands desperately gripping the sheets, your whole body already overwhelmed by him and the foreign and delicious sensation of his mouth on you. He lifts your legs, touching your knees to your chest.

"Hold your legs for me, angel, please." He asks softly, and you hug your knees, one in each arm, your legs fully spread and your core in full display for his hungry eyes, leaking with need for more, the sheets connected to you by a thin streak of your leaking juices. He presses both his thumbs on each one of your lips, watching as the arousal seems to leak out of your core as he presses against your flesh, his eyes darkening and becoming hazed as he anticipates watching you come apart for him again.

Vulnerable, responsive and shameless, just like he remembers your outbursts to be like. Your eyes closed shut or looking desperately into his own, your lips curled downwards in whimpers and cries, your hands squeezing him.

"I'mma need you to be real quiet for me, alright, baby? Only for my ears." He whispers, looking up at you, and you nod. "Can you do that for me, angel?" He asks softly.

You nod, words are way past your brain's capacity now.

"Words, my sweet girl." He squeezes your thighs. "Use your pretty words for me."

"Yes." You say in a breathless whisper, your whole body is shaking in anticipation.

"That's my good girl." He praises before parting your folds with his thumbs. He grunts at the view and buries his lips underneath yours, his beard scratching you, only adding to the feeling as he sucks on every bit of flesh, slurping in your juices and pressing his tongue against your aching and pulsing entrance, circling it and teasing pushing in.

"Joel!" You urgently beg for more, your voice quiet and small. You need more. You feel like you're so close already, his teasing and the way he's almost worshipping you making your body run to the edge. Already so close from falling that you want to hold back just to feel this for longer. "Joel, I... I can't hold it!" You purr in delicious agony, begging for both his mercy and more of his touch.

"Let go for me, princess. We've got all night to recover and do it again." He says huskily before once again parting your inner folds with his thumbs, admiring your tightness. "You're gonna feel so good around me, baby." He licks the exposed entrance, indulging in the wetness and warmth of your aching body. His tongue lapping on the pool that's formed inside you.

"More, Joel. More, please." You plead, hugging your knees closer to you in a desperate attempt to soothe your even more desperate body.

He responds by taking your clit in his mouth, licking the bud and pushing the hood back with his tongue, the feeling of his soft and warm tongue on your most sensitive spot making your body jolt with a literal spark of electricity that runs through your flesh, the feeling making you desperate with need, like if you're coming already under his tongue, your eyes snap open.

You gasp as he does it again, your eyes now closing shut. He smirks and lets the hood cover your clit again before he begins sucking on it, the feeling burning, itching and aching, all at the same time as your legs tremble desperately against your chest, your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and your mouth open in a silent scream as you lose complete control, your body tensing up, your juices flowing freely from you to your sheets, and your mind going blank, not a single thought or feeling that isn't the overwhelming pleasure he's giving you crossing your mind.

Only him, his tongue, his hands holding you, his fingers digging into your flesh to hold you in place, his scent, his warm breath against your tenderness, his eyes watching you crumble. You feel an agonizing pleasure washing over you, your body melting underneath his touch.

You come back from your high with tears falling down your cheeks, your legs sore and shaking, your breathing heavy and your throat dry, a sticky pool on the sheets underneath you and Joel gently kissing your folds, trying to help you come down and gather some of the leaking juices that you've just released.

"Joel..." You try to whisper, but the sound half dies on your tongue, the sweetness and need still making their way to his ears, and he smiles up at you, once again kissing his way up from your folds to you mount, through your stomach till your breasts, stopping by your nipple before reaching your collarbones, then your neck... Your throat and jaw, then kissing a tight trail until he reaches the corner of your lips.

"You did so good, my baby." He praises, his voice filled with pride. "So intense but so quiet and sweet for me." He whispers, touching his forehead to yours, and you smile, your cheeks warming up even more.

"Can you do this to me again?" You whisper sweetly, an undeniable amount of innocence and love in your request, making him chuckle.

"Everyday if you want me to, my angel." He smiles, kissing your forehead. "I'd never deny tasting you, making you crumble like that." He kisses you deeply, and you can taste yourself on his lips, your taste mingled with his own making you moan and tug at his curls, needing more, all of him.

"I wanna make you crumble too." You say breathlessly when he pulls back, and he smiles softly.

"Baby..." He starts, and you know that tone.

"Please, Joel!" You furrow your eyebrows. "Please, it's not fair you do it to me and I don't do it for you too." You purr. "I want to do it for you." You reassure him with a smile.

Your eagerness to please him... Something most women did everything in their power to not do... Fuck. He's one lucky son of a bitch.

"Baby... Me doing it to you is one thing... But... You don't have to do the same. We can try something we've already done before." He says, and the honesty, patience and respect in his voice makes you want to ravish him. To make him feel so good for making you feel so comfortable and safe, that he's gonna forget his own name.

"The more you tell me I don't have to... The more I'll wanna do it." You smile, a hint of mischief and innocent curiosity to know what it feels like to finally taste him, to really have him in your mouth, his breathing heavy, his face contorting, his fingers on your hair... "Please." You purr, using the face that gets you everything you want.

And he knows it damn well. He knows you always get what you want. And tonight is not gonna be the first time he says no to you.

"Still trying to kill me, I see." He smiles, kissing you again, his hand once again traveling down your body, gently pinching your nipple and rolling it in between his thumb and index fingers until you whimper in response, then making a ticklish trail down your waist and hips, finding your core again, spreading your folds and pushing the tip of his middle finger inside your - even tighter after your orgasm - entrance. "So fucking tight, baby... Gonna squeeze me so fucking good." He growls against your lips before pushing the finger fully in, curling his finger to masterfully hit your sweetest spot with a precision that not even you have yet.

"Oh... Joel!" You moan, your eyes closed and your eyebrows furrowed as he continuously presses the right button inside you. "Joel?!" You say, your eyes snapping open and confused by the intense and sudden sensation, the feeling increased, as intense as it always is after an orgasm. "Joel I..." You struggle, your face contorted in a perfect display of the blissfulness he's washing your body and soul with.

"Keep saying my name, my sweet girl." He kisses your lips gently before going down and burying his face back between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth, creating a mind numbing sensation as his finger still pumps your favorite spot.

"Joooel!" You cry out, forgetting to be silent, your upper body jolting up.

"Shhhh... No, baby... Be good for me, c'mon. Not so loud." He frowns before diving back in, his lips glistening with you. Your eyes roll back as your hips eagerly move against his face, making him grunt and squeeze your thigh with his free hand. "That's it..." He encourages, and you move even more intensely, your hands tugging at his curls, the sheets and anything at your reach as you feel another soul crushing orgasm building deep, deeper than ever before, inside your core.

"Jooooel!" You cry out again, more quietly this time, only for his ears, your voice strangled.

"Good girl." He praises. "Give it to me, angel. I know how much you love my attention, baby... And you're doing a really good job for me, so quiet and good for me..." He says before sucking your clit back into his mouth and inserting another thick finger in your tight insides, thrusting them in and out gently and pressing your sweetest spot between thrusts.

"Aaaah!" You whimper before it hits you suddenly and you're gone. Mind blank, legs shaking, body convulsing and hands almost painfully tugging at his hair as you have the orgasm of your life.

He groans when he feels your fingers pulling on his curls and your clit throbbing underneath his tongue, his eyes fixated on your pretty face all twisted and scrunched in almost painful pleasure as he breaks you apart. His fingers getting soaked inside you, your walls gripping him so tightly he can't even pump his fingers, just continuously pressing against your sweetest spot until you finally begin to come down.

"Joel! Joel! God! Joel!" You desperately pull him up onto you, holding tightly onto him, kissing his lips with more need and passion than ever before, tears flowing out of your eyes not only because of the overwhelming feelings he just made you feel, but mostly because you still can't process this is real.

You're not dreaming. This is not one of those dreams. He's here. With you. In your bed. His fingers inside you. He's finally yours again.

"Shhh... It's ok. I got you." He whispers when he breathlessly pulls back, kissing your neck, giving you time to recover and catch your breath.

"Joel..." You whimper against his neck.

"I'm right here, darling. You did so good for me again, my baby." He soothingly caresses your hair. "You always do..." He kisses your shoulder.

"That..." You say breathlessly. "I want you to do that again." You say, giggling a silly giggle as your brain starts to regain its shape.

He chuckles, pepering tender kisses all over your shoulder, collarbones, neck and jaw.

"I'm still gonna make you feel even better than that, baby." He whispers in your ears, his breath tickling your neck, making you laugh and get covered in goosebumps. "Over and over again. Until you get tired of me." He promises.

"Then you won't ever stop." You purr back, caressing his beard and his cheek tenderly, enjoying the feeling of having him in your arms again.

"We've got the rest of our lives for that." He smiles, leaning in for a sweet and slow kiss, his weight pushing you deeper onto the mattress, making you moan and pull him even lower onto you, your hands on his back, tugging at his shirt and squeezing his muscles.

"Can I do it now?" You break the kiss when you feel his bulge pressing against your thigh.

"Angel..." He says softly, kissing your jaw.

"Please, Joel... Just a little bit... I wanna see you again... I thought so much about holding you again..." You whisper, your hand moving down his stomach, testing his resistance.

He presses his thumb against your lower lip as is trying to shush you, pressing against it, caressing it. You don't hesitate in kissing it and licking it gently, swirling your tongue around his digit, and he presses his thumb against your tongue, pushing it inside your mouth. You invitingly part your lips and suckle around his thumb, swirling your tongue around it, watching his face; his eyelids heavy, his lips parted and his breathing heavy. He pulls his thumb back, a thin thread of saliva connecting his thumb to your pink and wet lips.

"Fuck..." He growls breathlessly. He just really can't say no to you. He sits down beside you, patting the mattress between his legs. "Come here, baby." His raspy voice calls, and you don't hesitate, quickly dropping to the floor between his legs. "Listen!" He warns softly before you reach for his belt, and you retract your hands, his hand gripping your chin firmly. "No mouth unless I say so." He sternly says, his mind reeling on the sight of your pink and wet lips around his thumb.

"Joel...!" You whine, frowning in frustration, sitting back on your heels, your hands resting on your thighs. He only looks down at you, his eyes serious and stern.

"No mouth or nothing at all." He says, and you frown.

"Alright." You mumble, making him smile.

"There's my good girl." He says, running his thumb on your cheek before placing his hands beside him to support himself. "Take my pants off, baby." He instructs softly.

You decide to first untie his boots, carefully removing them from his tired and calloused feet, hearing him groan in relief. You remove his socks too before undoing his zíper, your fingers curling underneath the waistband of his jeans and boxers down his legs before looking back up at his cock.

His throbbing, hard and aching cock. Aching for you. For more of you than he'd admit right now. For all of you.

You smile up at him, waiting for his permission to touch him, and he smiles down at you.

"Go on, baby. It's yours." He says, his voice affected by lust and affection as he gives himself to you.

"It's mine?" You whisper, shooting him a tender and playful smile as you loosely wrap your fingers around him, frowning when you feel how hard and warm he is, how tender his skin is despite how really hard he is in his center. Just like you remembered.

God, you missed him.

His pink and glistening tip, his thick and towering length, his vein that travels from his base all the way to his tip, his foreskin involving his tip, his balls heavy with everything you can't wait to begin craving.

"All yours, baby. It likes you. Missed you." He smiles down at you, and you can feel your cheeks a little warmer.

"I like it too. Missed it too." You whisper before stroking him slowly and gently, getting used again to how he feels in your hands.

"I can tell, baby..." He whispers, looking down at you. "Remember how you did it that time in the bathroom?" He asks softly, gently fixing your hair behind your shoulders.

"Uhum". You nod.

"Good. Do it just like that. Slow at first, then faster." He instructs softly, and you smile up at him.

You grip him a bit tighter and move your hand slowly, making him grunt. You watch how his foreskin moves along with your hands, covering and uncovering his tip, his precum pooling in his tip as he allows himself to be consumed by your touch. Your soft hands, your curious gaze and touch, how happy he is to have you again, to know you're his. To do this... And to see you everyday, to take care of you everyday, to kiss and hug you everyday. He moans and cups your cheek, tilting your face up as he leans in, his stomach pressing against your hand as he kisses you again. His lips desperate to never again forget what you taste like.

"You're so beautiful, my angel... You're so, so perfect for me." He says, his eyes travelling around your sweet and flustered face. "It's like you were made for me. Just for me, just so I could find you one day." He whispers.

The thought of being his, of your whole body belonging to him, your whole purpose to please and make him happy is more overwhelming than it should be, and it makes you purr in response. "Maybe I was." You say, making him smile and kiss your forehead before leaning back to give your hands more room to work.

"Maybe you were." He whispers tenderly.

You continue your steady movements, your eyes curiously watching him, and you feel your hands wet. You see his precum leaking out of him and you smear it all over his length, making him grunt as your hands slide easily along him, a wet sound filing your ears, making you lick your lips.

"Joel... Since it is mine...?" You ask sweetly, ready to beg for it if he says no.

"Guess I did say it." He sighs while he sits back. He's not strong enough for this. "It's yous, darling... You can do whatever you want with it." He gently pushes your hair behind your shoulders again, his cock throbbing with the ideas he knows you might have.

"I promise you wont regret it." You smile and lean in, smelling him curiously before gently kissing his very tip, your lips just ghostingly grazing his sensitive skin. He lets out a shaky breath when your warm breath hits his sensitive flesh, his eyelids fluttering closed.

"I know I won't, baby... I know I won't." He grunts quietly.

"Hmmm... Tastes like you." You purr, smiling up at him, your hand never stopping its slow and steady, tight pace on him.

"And is that good?" He chuckles softly.

"Uhum..." You lick it, earning a grunt from him. "Delicious." You purr before a long and firm swirl of your tongue around his head. "Hmmmm... Very, very delicious." You moan, twirling your tongue around him again, feeling how soft and wet the flesh of his tip is. Doing it just like that night, when he breathlessly called your name and let you taste him for the first time. "Better than I remembered."

"God... That's... Jesus, angel... Don't tease me like that..." He groans, and you frown.

"I'm not teasing you." You say, licking him again.

"But you are." He pants.

"I just like kissing it." You whisper with a sly smile, and he frowns.

"Yeah, baby. I... God, I like it too. But I need more, I've waited long enough." He growls, trying to keep himself together, his body desperate for more.

"Teach me how to give you more." You whisper.

Jesus Christ.

"Suck on it, baby. Go slow, not too deep. Do it like you were doing with your tongue, but sucking on it at the same time." He instructs breathlessly.

"Ok." You say before wrapping your soft lips around his throbbing tip again, this time sucking and licking simultaneously, earring a grunt.

"Good, just like that." He praises. "Don't forget your hand." He says, gently wrapping his large ones around yours, and you begin moving it up and down his length, moving your wrists at slightly different paces to increase his sensations. "Good job... Fuck... Just like that." He moans, his hands moving along with yours, their warmth reassuring and comforting.

You continue giving him more, gently suckling on his tip, enjoying the feeling of it against your lips and tongue, the curves of the underside of it, the warmth and taste, how wet and how soft it feels. You lock your lips around it and swirl your tongue around the head, and he moans when the underside of your tongue slides over his aching tip.

"Holy shit... Baby..." He pants, trying not to stop your exploration, even though he wants nothing more than to hold your head and relieve himself. Instead, he looks down at you, reminding himself that it is you, your mouth, your first time doing it, and his hand tenderly tangle on your hair as you continue getting to know him once again.

The feeling of his hand in your hair is soothing and reassuring. It makes you go deeper, taking him halfway through and sucking with your whole mouth, closing your eyes at the feeling of him inside your mouth, your tongue sliding along his underside, exploring a vein that's pulsing against your touch.

"Oh, baby... Fuck, that's it." He moans breathlessly in response, his hand unconciously tugging gently at your hair. "Try hollowing your cheeks now." He commands with a smooth voice.

You do it and as he occupies your whole mouth, for a sweet moment it's almost like the rest of him is gone. All but his cock in your mouth and his hand in your hair. The feeling of his warm, tender and hard flesh in your mouth is foreign yet familiar, like you've imagined it for so long that it's like you've always had it. Like you were always meant to have him.

"You're doing so good, baby... So fucking good for me." He praises, looking adoringly down at you, his face slightly flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat. He looks Godly, he looks happy and satisfied, and it makes you want to take him in even deeper, to please him even more, so you do, your eyes locked on his.

The sounds he makes in response and the way his face contorted when he hit the back of your throat made you wanna take even more of him, let him fill your mouth. And the way he pulled on your hair and growled when you did it made you wanna do it again, and again, and again...

"Baby...! Fuck...!" He grunts, his voice strangled, unable to tell you to slow down, his chest and stomach rising and falling heavily with every movement of your mouth on him. The sight of how you were affecting him made you hungry for more, it made you want to take him even deeper and even harder, so you go, and you accidentally gag around him, your vision going pitch black for a second.

His hands tighten around yours, pulling himself out of your mouth as you gasp for air. He looks down at you, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pierced together in concern.

"Angel, hey, baby." He says softly, calling you by your name as well, holding your shoulders to keep you back, and you sit on your heels, looking up at him with red and watery eyes. "Hey, look at me, don't do that, darling." He says, shaking his head while cupping your face and using his thumb to gently clean the precum and saliva dripping down your chin.

"But I wanted to..." You purr, looking up at him, your cheeks burning at your own eagerness. "Did I hurt you?" You ask, your eyes wide with the innocent worry.

He chuckles in response, his gorgeous face lightening up. "You didn't hurt me, baby, no." He fixes your hair. "But you're not ready for that yet. You're learning and you gotta go slow." He explains softly, kissing your forehead.

"Slowly. Alright." You agree before reaching back for him, stroking him slowly and tight.

"See? That feels good already, baby... As long as it's you doing it... It'll always feel good enough." He kisses your swollen lips tenderly. "No going too deep for now, alright? Or I won't let you do it anymore." He smiles softly despite his warning.

"Uhum." You nod before leaning back in, stroking him and cupping his balls.

"Oh... Careful with those, baby..." He says softly, an you gently soften your grip, just rolling them around in your hand.

"Does it feel good when I touch them?" You whisper, and he frowns at the question.

"Yes... Yes, baby. It feels really good when you touch them." He breathes, his voice restrained. "It'd feel really good if you sucked on them too." He pants, giving in to his desires. "Nice and gentle." He instructs.

You smile and take one of them in your mouth, making him hiss, his hand returning to your hair. You suck gently on it, rolling it around your tongue and feeling how it feels underneath the skin, how squishy it feels, how you can feel their outline underneath the stretchy and cool skin. He grunts and moans in response, unable to hide how your curious exploration affects him anymore.

You kiss your way up from his balls to his cock, licking and sucking gently on his base, your hand working near his tip as you place open mouthed kisses along his length.

"Baby... God..." He pants, the way you're so curious to tasting and exploring him makes him feel like he's about to lose his mind and his self-control. "Lick it for me, baby. Suck on it." He groans.

You listen and slide your parted lips up his side, your tongue drawing a wet line across him, making him buckle his hips involuntarily. You begin moving the same way up and down, parted lips and tongue tasting him while your lips suck along his length, paying special attention near his tip.

You suck his tip into your mouth before sliding your lips down, his tip pressing onto the side of your cheek and popping off with a wet "bop" that makes him moan.

"Fuck, that feels so good, baby." He chuckles, caught off guard, and you notice how much he enjoyed it, so you do it again, taking his tip in your mouth an sliding your lips sidesways towards his base, his tip once again pressing against your cheek before popping off, making him pull at your hair.

You moan and suck his head back inside your mouth, whimpering around him, your mouth eager to make him feel good and get the same reactions and sounds out of him as you grow more confident with your touch.

You look up at him, watching how you're affecting him, his chest rising and falling heavily, his lips parted, his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed.

The sight is too Godly to resist, so while you suck and Bob your head hungrily around him, you let your hands wander up his stomach and chest, your fingers clawing on his shirt and trying to tug at his skin. Instinctively, he leans back, giving you more room to explore his body as his eyes open to look down at you and his fingers draw soothing and tender circles in your scalp, just above the nape of your neck.

Your hands reach underneath his shirt, touching his sturdy and large torso, gripping his skin and moaning at how good he feels under your fingers. How good his belly feels to hold onto.

He takes one of your hands and squeezes it, his eyes closed in bliss, his eyebrows furrowing every time you swallow what's building up in your mouth and squeeze him a bit in against your lips.

"You're perfect, baby... You're doing it so good for me... Making me feel so good..." He praises, and the confirmation that you're making him feel good ignites the same need that you had before, making you want to go deeper, harder, faster and make his eyes roll back the same way he makes yours. "Let some leak down and use it to move your hands." He instructs, and you let some of his precum and your drool wet his cock.

"So messy..." You mumble around him, looking up at him, and he chuckles.

"Messy is good when you're doing this, baby. Messy feels very good." He explains.

"Hmmmmm..." You moan around him, taking your hands back to his cock and twisting your wrists, his foreskin moving under your wet palms and fingertips as the friction of your hands along with your mouth tightly enclosing around his tip make his hips buckle up, a hiss leaving his lips.

"Fuck... You... You figured all that rest yourself, baby?" He grunts, trying to hold his sensations back and let you enjoy yourself as he shifts his hips, trying to regain some control.

"Uhum." You nod around him, your tongue twirling on his sensitive and leaking tip as you caress him with the underside of your tongue, seeking the same reactions.

"Holy shit. Baby... I'm... Trying but... You're... Fuck... You're gonna have to stop." He pants, the desperation in his voice as he tries to hold back and last more almost making you laugh.

The sight of this big and strong man crumbling under your touch is new and exciting, making you feel powerful and...

Like a woman...?

The realization that his pleasure, his release is under your mercy makes you slow down and harden your movements, exactly like you do to yourself to prolong the feeling of being on the edge.

"Baby... God..." He looks for divine mercy, his eyes locked on the roof as you test his boundaries and limits, as you see how far you can take him before he loses control. "Please, my baby... Just... I need it. I need you." He pants, his eyes now glued to yours, the vulnerability and the honesty with which he gives himself to you makes you fasten your tongue around his tip and stroke him tighter, slowly increasing your hands speed. "Arrnh!" He groans. "Yes, baby, just like that, feels so fucking good."

His response makes you grow more confident, closing your eyes and doing what instinctively feels right to you. Hands tighter and faster with each stroke, lips wrapped underneath his head and tongue twirling and moving up and down, pushing against his urethra.

"Aaaargh! Baby... Pull back... Pull back, fuck..." You hear him grunting almost like he's in pain, and as you open your eyes, the sight makes you moan.

His hair disheveled, his gorgeous face scrunched and pained, his teeth clenched together, his eyes heavy and dark, his neck red, that one vein one second away from exploding. You continue, doing what you think is gonna make him feel even better, hollowing your mouth and suckling on his tip, just like he taught you, and his mouth falls open with a silent gasp, his eyes scrunched together.

"Baby... Pull... Back..." His stern voice sounds more like a pleading as he tries to get you to back off so he can finally let go, but instead, you begin sucking even harder around his tip, almost like you're trying to drink from him.

And he can't hold back anymore. He snaps, his hand tugging hard on your hair, so hard you whimper and furrow your brows, making him tug at your sheets instead, his grip so tight that his knuckles turn white and he pulls the sheets from underneath the mattress, his hips buckling up against his will, pushing more of himself into your mouth as you greedily lock your lips around him and drink every last drop that he gives you, sucking and stroking him progressively more gently and slowly as he comes down from his high.

"Aaaaah!" He pants and gasps for air when you let go of his still semi hard but utterly worn out cock, his arms threatening to give up underneath him as he looks down at you, his eyes hazed and filled with satisfaction and awe. "Baby that was... Amazing... You did so good, my baby, such a good fucking girl for me." He praises, too weak to do much more, and you smile up at him, proud of yourself for making him feel like this.

You climb up his body, and he lays back down, his hands on your waist and hips as you lay your naked body on top of his clothed torso, looking up at his blissful face. All of his wrinkles and the usual stressed frown between his eyebrows gone with the attention you just gave him, his eyes closed and his lips parted as he catches his breath.

"I told you you wouldn't regret it." You whisper, kissing his jaw.

"Regret it? Fuck... Baby... I... Why do you think I've never let you do this before?" He chuckles.

"Why?" You ask playfully, playing with the buttons of his flannel.

"Because I knew you'd make me feel so good, baby." He smiles. "I don't know what I did to deserve you. But I'm also not about to start questioning it and make God realize he sent you to the wrong motherfucker and take you away from me again." He chuckles.

You giggle and snuggle closer to him, letting go of your weight and feeling his body moving with his heavy breathing, the movement soothing you, like you're swimming in a sea of Joel Miller.

"Joel...?" You say quietly as you two just breathe and enjoy the warmth of one another.

"Yes, baby?" He whispers back, his hands caressing your back and holding you close.

"We need to take a shower... And put some clothes on." You say softly, lifting yourself and looking down at him, his face relaxed and almost silly, his eyes as soft and happy as always when they're looking at you.

"Guess we do." He smiles, pulling you down for a kiss, tongue tracing your lips before you grant him entrance and he deepens the kiss with renewed passion and tenderness. "I love you." He whispers against your lips, the words rolling easily from his lips, as if he's said them multiple times when you weren't there to hear it.

You pull back, looking into his eyes as he smiles at you. "I love you too." You whisper, your eyes welling up. "I love you, Joel." You repeat, smiling widely, and he flips you both around, his body hovering above yours.

"I love you, my precious angel... And finally you're with me to hear me say it." His eyes water. "I said it so many times... Looking at the picture you gave me... With that pretty smile... I couldn't stop thinking about you." He says, his voice loving and vulnerable.

"I waited for you to come back. Every single day, until yesterday..." Your voice breaks. "... I spent the sunsets looking at the gates, hoping I'd see you walk in again." You cry softly. "And I'd keep doing it. Eery single day... I'd always wait for you." You purr, and he cups your cheek that way, his thumb caressing the soft skin underneath your eyes as his other fingers wrap around your ear, his gaze loving and tender.

"And I always asked Frank about you. When he was the one on the radio I'd always sneak in and ask about you. I always made Tess ask about you. She said you were always on your porch," He smiles. "looking beyond the gates, trying to see me... I felt so bad, baby." He cries, looking down at you, his lips trembling.

There's the vulnerability that only shows up when you're around.

"Joel..." You whisper, cradling his face, trying to soothe him.

"You didn't deserve to go through any of that... Any of that." He says, his eyes closed in shame.

"Joel... Baby... Look at me, please." You purr sweetly, gently squeezing his face so he looks at you. "I'll tell you what I told my dad." You sigh to calm yourself down before speaking. "I only hurt the way I did for you because I love you. Because you mean so much to me. And I don't regret a thing. Not even the pain I felt. Because now that I have you... The pain is gone, and I know what I feel for you is real, because the pain I felt was real. And I'll never feel that pain again as long as I have you." You say tenderly, and he kisses you again, his mouth silently pouring all the pretty words he can't formulate to express just how much he loves you, just how much he feels for you as he finally allows the roots and branches inside his chest to grow and flourish, to set themselves now that he knows you're his forever, and he can almost feel his chest expanding just to fit all these new feelings you're sowing on his heart.

"You're my everything." He whispers lovingly. "You make me happy in a way I thought I'd never be again. In a way I know I don't deserve to be." He says weakly. "But you make me feel like I'm worthy of it." He cries. "Because if such a sweet and special angel like you can see through me, can love me... Then I'll try everyday to be the man you deserve." He says, and you smile.

"You already are the man I deserve, Joel. You're the man I want. The man I love. And I'm so glad you were the one to visit us. I'm so glad you found me." You say lovingly, and he kisses you again, his hands squeezing and caressing your soft skin as he tries to convince himself that he's not dreaming with you again.

"I wanna hold you all night long." He whispers against you lips.

"You can hold me under a warm shower first." You whisper, smiling, and he smiles back, getting off the bed and pulling you up to your feet as well.

You gently undo the buttons of his shirt and pull if off him, seeing his strong and sturdy torso again, remembering how good he looked that day, the water droplets glistening in his chest and stomach. You slowly run your hands up his arms, kissing the little "v" shape between his collarbones, and he groans softly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

"Angel..." He whispers, gently tangling his hand on the hair on the back of your head and making you look up at him. "We've got the rest of our lives for that..." He kisses you gently, just a peck before he guides you to your bathroom, turning the shower on to let it warm up and watching you stand in front of the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror as you remove the ribbons from your hair.

He comes behind you, wrapping his big arms around your naked body and pressing his own skin against your back, just kissing your shoulder and caressing your stomach and your sides, his touch gentle but still possessive.

"It's gonna be good, I think." You smile, looking at his reflection in the mirror, caressing his arms.

"What's gonna be good?" He smiles, looking at your reflection, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Spending the rest of our lives together." You say lovingly, and he chuckles.

"I couldn't make better plans myself." He kisses your neck before pulling back to check the water. "Come on. It's nice." He smiles at you, offering his hand, so you tie your hair up and join him.

He envelops you in his embrace, the warm and soothing water calming your muscles and soothing your mind as he gently washes your body, holding you with your back close to his chest, his touch feather light, careful around your most sensitive areas, and still your body jolts slightly when you feel his rough fingers.

Then you wash him too. His back, his neck, his chest, his stomach, his legs. He only doesn't let you wash his cock "To avoid not going straight to bed." According to him.

He wraps you in your towel and grabs one for himself. You both walk back into your room, and you put on a pair of pink pajamas with red hearts. He dresses something out of his backpack, just a plain t-shirt and some boxers.

You lay down and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest and caressing your hair.

"Promise I won't just wake up tomorrow and this is gonna have been a dream?" You whisper, and he smiles.

"Only if you promise me I won't wake up in the QZ without you again." He says.

"I promise." You whisper. "You're not going anywhere, and even if you went, I'd go with you... You're mine." You smile against his lips.

"I'd never take you out of here, my angel..." He says lovingly. "But I promise I'd always find my way back to you."

You kiss him again, a more simple and intimate kiss, the type of kiss that says a lot without doing much, and he holds you close with his large and warm hand on the nape of your neck, not wanting to lose your warmth just yet.

"I love you, Joel." You whisper again. You're never gonna get tired of repeating it.

"I love you, my angel... my baby... my..." He finishes with your name, his voice as soft as ever, and you nestle even closer to him, feeling safe, loved and happy in the arms of the man you longed for so many nights. Indulging in the warmth you missed so much, a warmth that no blanket could replicate as you shivered, falling asleep with his name on your lips and your eyes wet.

"Goodnight, Joel." You whisper against his chest.

"Goodnight, my angel." He whispers back, kissing your forehead and sighing in happiness. His chest full again for the first time in... Twenty years.

Finally!!!

Finally I was happy and proud of this, and finally it is yours! I'm once again so, so happy and so grateful for each and every single one of you who supported me through this year and a bit that I'm around here. This story is over a year old, which just comes to show how patient you all are and how much we love Joel Miller 🤧

I'm really honoured and happy to have received every message, every comment, every like and every reblog in this series. I hold it really kind to my heart (I wish I could show it to my friends) and having you to share it with means the world to me.

I love you all and I hope this met your expectations 🩷

See ya 🩷🎀

Tags:

[pumpkinbxtch]

ok so like I just requested so please take your time on this next one, I’m over here asking again alr because you’re response was so nice to my last one it made me feel ok asking again 😭❤️❤️❤️ I’ll be a little more specific with this one <3

Apollo x Fem!Reader, where the reader is a mortal who keeps reincarnating every hundred or so years and Apollo falls in love every single time 🤭 and once again it’s been a 100 or so years, and suddenly he meets her again!!! this can be god!apollo or Lester!apollo bcs honestly there’s so many possibilities with both so I’ll leave that up to you :3

Again take your time with this one and feel free not to even accept it right away!!! Thank you for the last one again and pls have a great day!! YOURE THE BEST ❤️❤️

• ° . ☆ “Free coupons, take one and cry all afternoon”

— apollo x mortal!reader

part ii

Summary: Apollo has literally loved you for years and years and lifetimes. Now that you return to him, that time his crossroads will not be long, but at least he was able to see you and fall in love with you once again. warnings: bad words, yea umm. Haha a/n: I'm so happy you liked what I wrote. It's really very important to me. AND SORRY if I'm late, it's just inspiration. The gods refused to give it to me, but it is here. Kisses.- From the other side of the milky way, María.

The first time, Apollo saw you and without hesitation passed his heart towards you. Oh gods, he had the best weeks of his life, but then he had to let you go. You were a mortal, he couldn't be with you for long without exposing you to danger.

And since he loved you so much, he decided to give up, he forced himself to see more for you than for his need to be with you.

He had already calculated it, it was about 100 years or so to see you again, but throughout those, he changed completely, he had to face a great battle against his father's ego and that of himself. He almost forgot how old and ageless he was, when you spend more than six months fighting for your life, that's how it is. Until that day when he accompanied his now friends to an amusement park, the same ones as always; Will, Nico, Rachel, Meg, and the seven. Ten young adults, one teenager and ONE “apparent” young adult. They were having a great time, actually.

The roller coasters, the ice cream, the sun (him), the kiddie rides that Meg insisted on riding. But Apollo had gotten tired, can a god get tired? Well, he's trying to keep up with so many demigods with ADHD at a fun fair.

He took a seat on one of those wooden benches with faded rainbow paint. The others looked for him and gathered around.

— Apollo! I want to go to the water attraction —  Percy said, holding Annabeth's hand, who was apparently analyzing the map of the place.

— Yes, and then we go to the flying chairs — said Jason, his practically brother. A smile that he had never seen adorned his face, next to him, Leo hung from the blonde's neck.

—Yes, come on, sunny.

—Don't be lazy, I want to go to the carousel.— Meg said, squeezing the dolphin plushie that he had won for her in the shooting game.

Frank handed him his ice cream, and Hazel looked at him for any injuries.

Will and Nico seemed to have moved on, they were very lovey-dovey lately.

—Thank you, Frank. I'm fine —

— If you don't like sharing, I can go get one for you.

Apollo smiled and brushed his brown hair out of his face.

—I'm fine, man. Don't worry.

But he knew that wasn't the case, he felt something in his stomach that wouldn't leave him alone.

Piper and Rachel looked at each other, both seeming to read each other's minds as they discussed something.

—How about we walk Meg to the carousel and come back for you? It sounds fun, a bunch of us riding metal animals going up and down —  Piper said, taking Meg's hand. Rachel nodded and smiled at Apollo.

— Yes, I think it will be enough for you to rest.

No one had any objections, but Apollo had sensed a certain charm in the words of Aphrodite's daughter. Was he missing something?

Everyone advanced and Rachel was the last to set off, she looked at the god knowingly.

— Good luck.

Apollo did not know what those words meant, and he waved goodbye. A remorse for not accompanying them invaded him, but he stayed sitting on the bench. He ruffled his curls anxiously and leaned on his thighs, taking in the great view of the concrete with a cooler of ants carrying breadcrumbs. Then, he felt a hit on the head and an apology.

— Sorry! Are you ok?

He looked up and oh, fuck. It was you? He could feel his heart crushing and feeling on fire. Apollo stood up from the bench.

— I-I'm fine, don't worry.

The last time he had seen you, your eyes were the color of olive, now they were brown, but the look was the same. You gave him a warm smile and placed your hands on your chest.

— Really? —

He nodded and smiled, too.  For you, Apollo's blue eyes became familiar within seconds of seeing them.

— We know each other?

“We've met thousands of times,” he wanted to say, but he couldn't. In other lives, he had told you that he was a god, and you believed him. But the situation in how you had met that day, the hurried manner of your meeting, told him that the meeting with you would not last at all. Even so, seconds or glances were enough for him, he was already in love with you, again.

His heart was immersed in melancholy, and he wanted to hug you.

— Maybe…

You opened your eyes a little and approached him curiously, you smelled like lavender and sunshine, that last one made his stomach flip. You were almost invading his personal space, which made him push his chin back to avoid bumping into your nose.

— I thought that, too. Do you come here often? It's just that I work at one of those food islands. — You told him and stepped back smiling to show him your uniform. You had a cap with the company logo embroidered on it.

— Ahm yes, with… — He thought of Meg and the others. He made a silent apology to Artemis — My sister and my friends.

You widened your smile and dug something into your pants pockets.

Apollo wanted to kiss you.

You hummed and finally took out some papers. Would you give him your number?

You held them out to him.

— Coupons!

Apollo took them gently, your fingers collided with his, and you felt a kind of electricity in your stomach. You let out a nervous laugh.

— Well, see you…— The boy came out of his trance. A name, he wouldn't say Apollo, would he?, but…

—Lester! — You smiled again and waved your hand goodbye.

— See you, Lester.

And you walked away from him, leaving him empty and wanting to take you with him to spend the rest of the afternoon at the fair, to be happy, to be together.

He spread the coupons in the palm of his hand and looked at them. He was able to gain something from his misfortune, at least. Of course, why not? Burgers for everyone.

— Apollo! — Meg's voice made him turn, and he smiled when he saw everyone. It seemed that Will and Nico had found their way back to the others.

Rachel met his gaze, she seemed slightly worried. So at that moment it all became obvious, she knew he would meet you.

Apollo sighed and held up the coupons in his hand.

— are you hungry?

[thevillainswhore]

Can’t Take My Eyes Off You

Pairing: Stalker!IT/tech!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

(snippets/mentions of Carter Bazien x F!Reader and Ending, Beginnings!Frank x F!Reader)

Summary: Bucky, the IT and technology expert of your office, has been secretly obsessed since the moment he set his sights on sensitive, naive, little you. But, your only fault is your repetitive ability to get your heartbroken by fuck boys. So, naturally, he has to do whatever it takes to make you see he’s perfect for you… right?

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Stalking, mentions of smut (p in v, male masturbation) violence, grievous bodily harm, dark elements, possessive behaviour, hacking, reader is very naive, Bucky is a hell of a warning here (will add more with the upcoming chapters) PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS - THIS IS A DARK FIC!!!

A/N: We are finally here!! 😭 incase anyone doesn’t remember, I teased this fic a longgg time ago and it makes me so happy to announce its now live 🥹 as mentioned before this is a multi part story - I’m aiming for 3 parts but it could be more with me who knows 🤣 I also changed the my moodboard bc my last one did not include inclusivity and that is the goal here 💗

So now onto my appreciations ❤️ first of all I need to thank @mickeyhenrys for helping with the fic title - she’s a genius and I’m so thankful! Next, I need to thank @sgt-seabass for the help with the IT/cyber security aspect of things - she was absolutely amazing with providing all the information I needed and I’m super grateful for it. And last and certainly not least… my beautiful @rookthorne. my god I can’t even begin to thank you for all the help you’ve given me on this. To beta’ing this fic, helping me a lot with my moodboard even when I was a pain the ass 🤣 and just supporting me in general with my crazy ideas - this fic sprouted from our brainstorming and looking back from then to where this has flourished now is amazing 💗 thank you for being the beautiful person you are and inspiring me to grow as a writer. I love you so much 🥹

Now onto the fic, please enjoy the start of this crazy, wild ride and good luck - you’re gonna need it… 👀

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

Bucky glances over at you through the window that seperates the two of you, gushing about your new date already. It took you a week, maybe two, to get over the last guy. And here you were, yet again, in the same conversation with the same co-worker, debating about which dress you were gonna wear tonight. 

Did it matter anyway? 

The same shit happens every time. You go out with a new prize idiot, get laid, wait for them to text you back (spoiler: they never do), and you sit there, crying and wondering where you went wrong. 

It was frustrating. 

You only ever go out with the conventional ‘fuck boy’. The same three-piece suits and quiffed hair that looks like it’s been cemented to their skull with product and arrogance, both in equal measure. 

When were you going to get it? You choose the wrong type of guy, every single time. And yet, you wonder why they never stick around long enough to make things official, or to settle down. 

You were gullible; so naive.

The perfect girl that Bucky has kept his sights set on from that very first day that you begun working in the same office.

That’s when you walked into my life, Angel. 

It wasn’t all that new for it to rain in New York. Heels clicked and splashed through the deep puddles of the pavement, and leather briefcases bumped against each other in the chaos of the crowds as Bucky made his way to work.

He found he didn’t so much mind the repetitive routine – his life had never been exciting. It gave him peace of mind to hear all the usual sounds and to witness the usual frenzied rush from his run down apartment all the way to his office.

 

He liked his job, truly. It’s what he’s always excelled best in and it’s what has kept him in his comfort zone. There was never no real need to talk to people as all communication or pleas for help were addressed in an email. Those who didn’t email always dragged themselves to his office and slammed their technology down on his desk, grunt or curse at him, before primly walking back out again. 

That would anger most people – the blatant disregard for his existence and the treatment similar to that of a scolded dog, but Bucky’s been there for ten years now, and over those many, many days, he had gotten used to it. 

It was a bonus, however, that nobody questioned him once on how he managed to fix every problem with their device with so little information as a curse and a demand to get it working.  

Pushing the door open, Bucky expects to be walking into a normal day at the office. Paying no notice to the hustle and bustle of his colleagues at work.

That is until he’s stopped in his tracks. 

The surprise of seeing the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on; a woman that was sunshine and everything he dreamed of personified standing in the lobby. He watched you speak to anyone that paused to say hello. 

The errant thought of such an innocent bunny smiling for all that gave her attention made his cock twitch in his pants. He wanted to give you that attention that you craved.

Never had he been so entranced by and enamoured in anyone. He thinks he could stay like this forever, almost blown over by his new found obsession that made his hands shake and the whole volume of blood in his body to rush to his rapidly swelling cock.

That obsession called and rooted for him to take the few steps and cover the distance to reach you, when he was abruptly shunted forward by another body slamming into his back. 

He spun around, ready to curse the person for being so oblivious, when he saw Brock. “Hey man, why the fuck were you just stand- Oh, I take it you’ve seen the new hire, hot isn’t she?” 

The predatory smile on Brock’s mouth physically made him recoil.  Looking Brock up and down, clear disgust in the sneer and glare of his expression, Bucky turned and stalked away towards the stairs in a bid to head to his office. 

His closest safety net, the office where he spent his days, came into view and he slammed open the door, only to fall back onto it, his breath coming in sharp pants. Wildly, he glances around him and then out of the blinds that shroud his office from onlookers. Nobody was paying attention to his moment of crisis and doubt, except, he finds you glancing over your cubicle wall. 

You send a small wave, one of which Bucky can’t believe is directed at him, and you smile broadly – a kind gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone smiled at him like that. 

Bucky hastily looks away and strides over to his desk, adjusting the sudden tent of his slacks before he turns to sit in his desk chair to start his day. 

Who the fuck is she? 

The day starts slow, each task as mundane as the last, when you finally get a chance to talk to Sasha, your favourite co-worker. “I really think he’s going to be the one this time.” You can’t stop grinning, wiggling in your seat from excitement to be going out with Frank this weekend – the party that you met him at still fresh in your mind. 

“Girl, you said that last time! With... What was his name again?” Sasha groans, her chair swivelling so she could face you fully. You stare at her with a furrow in your brow while she stumbles to remember the name. “Chad? No, I don’t think that was it… Chris?” 

“His name was Carter.” There's heartbreak evident in the way your voice turns to a solemn whisper when speaking of him, and your eyes start to water as you begin to think about how your previous date left you high and dry after your night together – only to ghost you the next morning. Your lips start to tremble at the memory. “And I thought we said we weren’t going to speak about him anymore.” 

Sasha notices your dejected expression. “Shit honey, l’m sorry. I just want you to be happy.” You nod once, wiping your cheek with your palm. “Car-” She hesitates, and then frowns. “He-who-shall-not-be-named was a rich asshole, he doesn’t deserve you and he can choke on a dick.”

The crass statement shocks you. “Sasha!” you admonish, glancing around the office for anyone milling about that may have overheard. Although you were never one to bad mouth, you couldn’t help the small giggles spilling out at her vulgar words. 

Sasha’s abrupt and scandalous nature has always been the exact opposite to your docile character, but she was the first true friend you had made in the office – always looking out for you, taking care of you, and with your doe-eyed persona, the men can’t help but desire to have a piece of you. 

It is a blessing that she always knew how to pick you back up when you were down, no matter how many times you would come to her in tears over the same problem. 

“Anyway, I promise this one is different,” you promise. The sadness that gripped you a second before fades with the humorous nature of your friend. Sasha shoots you a look. “I didn’t even match with him on Tinder! We met at that party–the one I told you about, Daphne’s?”

“I remember,” Sasha murmurs, nodding. 

The memory flashes across your mind, and you shake your head slightly. “He looked so silly with the little tiara on his head. He came up to me and we talked a little–said I looked really pretty and that we should meet up sometime,” you explain, almost imploringly – you desperately want her to understand that it was a good thing. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it–for me to get myself out there?”

Pride makes your voice strong, unwavering in it’s conviction. Stepping out of your your social circle is a huge step, and by the softening in Sasha’s gaze, she thinks so, too. 

The night you met Frank swirls in your mind, clouding it as you stare dreamily at the wall beside Sasha’s head.

The party was in full swing – loud cheers and clinking bottles and glasses filled the night air, while the pounding bass music rattled your chest. Your friend, Daphne, had left to go smoke in the corner, abandoning you to your own devices by the pool. 

Fairy lights had been strung up from pole to pole above you and you were admiring them, when Frank caught you by surprise.

“Hey doll,” he greeted, and you glanced at the six foot Prince Charming in a wool coat and tiny tiara. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing all alone in the corner?” 

Frank had thrown you a dashing smile and you found you couldn’t maintain eye contact with his intense gaze – you swore you fell in love on the spot.

To say you were flustered would be an understatement. “M-Me?” 

Frank almost looked amused. “Well, just between me and you dollface… I don’t see anyone else nearly as pretty as you here.”  

As the night went on, Frank continued to sweep you off your feet. You genuinely had no clue how desperate you made him over your sweet little dress riding up your thighs when you fiddled with the the hem. Or when you started to feel shy and you crossed your arms to try and hide yourself – only to squeeze your tits together. It gave him the perfect image of how they would look bouncing up and down on his cock. 

The way he stared at you so sweetly, acting as the perfect gentleman made the butterflies in your stomach swoop and flutter up a storm. You had planned a date with him at the end of the night and you were beyond excited. 

Snapping out of your daydream, you focus back into the present, aware enough of your surroundings to see Sasha clicking her fingers sharply in front of your face making you blink. “Hello? There she is!” She sits back and rolls her eyes. “Jesus girl, I was calling your name for ages. Where did that cute head of yours wander off to this time?” 

“Sorry! I just got caught up in Frank again,” you sigh, dreamily. 

Sasha scoffs. “C’mon, he can’t be that cute. Show me a photo of him.”

You clap your hands and squeal, rushing to search through your bag for your phone to show her just how lucky you are to have someone as wonderful as Frank interested in you. Scrolling through the photos you’d taken that night, you finally find the one you couldn’t stop admiring; him with that silly tiara sitting atop his soft, fluffy hair that you could imagine running your hands through all day, wrapped in a snug jacket with a cigarette between his fingers and blowing out smoke the side of his perfect lips. 

His eyes fixed intently on one thing. You. 

The image sends a shiver down your spine, and before you get too carried away, you turn your screen to face Sasha. 

After a whole minute of considertory silence, she finally speaks up, her voice aweful. “Holy fucking shit, babe. I wanna lick his face.” 

Your jaw drops. “Sasha, oh my god, you can’t just say that!” Laughter threatens to bubble over and your cheeks heat in response.

“Watch me,” Sasha teases, and you both dissolve into laughing fits.

Bucky is seething. He doesn’t think his teeth could be grating together any harder; grinding to dust until his jaw clicks. While your laugh is melodic to his ears, and his heart leaps and bounds at the sound of your voice, even muted from his vantage point of his office, he saw how upset you looked when your co-worker mentioned him. 

Carter. 

Even thinking his name gets his blood boiling. But, he wills himself to calm down. To just breathe. There was no point in getting worked up over that spoiled prick anymore, he’s dealt with after what he did to you –  the very lengths Bucky had to go to get that video Carter took on his phone deleted. 

You, the not so innocent whore on your knees for someone who wasn’t him, begging for Carter’s dick down your throat until you were suffocating; saliva drooling from your chin and dripping down onto your heaving tits.

Bucky can feel his cock twitching in his trousers at the thought of you being so submissive. Pity floods him – you didn’t even realise how Carter had not only ignored your texts that morning, but he had also planned to send that precious gift you had so willingly given to him, to all of his friends and ultimately ruin your life.  Leaving it in shambles for you to pick up the debris of your professional career and sociality with so little care.

Bucky wasn’t the most pleased with you after seeing that video in the first place. It was such a foolish decision to trust and allow that sleazebag to film you. 

He took it upon himself to remove every trace of the video. After all, he was a good person, what a man should be.  

Such a good man that he paid a visit to Carter, leaving him with a few of his own gifts. A black eye, fractured skull, and a break in his right femur that may, or may not have, resulted in him taking residence in the local intensive care unit fighting for his life.

“All I want is for you to be happy. And who better to make you happy than me?” Bucky wonders quietly at his desk, the door to his office wide open so he can hear you chatting to your friend. “I would treat you so good–dote on you every hour of every day, never let you out of my sight, either.”

The next train of thought is one he will not voice aloud, but the vision of him fucking you hard and rough, just as you deserve, until you cried for more – for all of what he could give. 

“You’re better off with me,” Bucky grumbles. His lips turn down into a grimace and he glares at the cubicle wall that separated you from him. “You just don’t know it yet, bunny.”

Nevertheless, here you are, flaunting your latest boy toy off to your friend. 

The pencil he’s been tapping absentmindedly on his desk stops suddenly and small pieces of wood splinters by the second until it snaps in half,  almost capturing your attention – head whipping side to side in search of the noise until you give up and go back to your conversation. 

Pain laces through his hand when the wood scratches his palm, reddening lines etching themselves in retaliation for his daydreaming.

He’s got to be more careful with his frustrations. 

You have hardly ever looked in his direction, let alone spoken a single word to him. Why would you? Not many people did, if he is honest with himself. His shoulder-length dark hair that is always covered by the same black cap in combination with his piercing and brooding stare didn’t give off the best impression, or invite conversation. 

Bucky was not a popular man, even thinking back to his early school years. He was always considered the loner, the nerd, the creep. No sisters or brothers to grow up with; distant parents who paid no mind to him or bothered to foster and nuture his affinities. 

The lonliness of his childhood paved the way to the depths of his desperation. Intelligence was something he had an abundance of, and weaponising the skills of his cyber skills was an underutilised talent of every one of his past employs. 

It never assuades or lessens the burden of need for affection. A craving that naws like a festering wound in his barren heart, for something that could make up for the miserable nights of self reflection and doubt; wondering why he was never enough for his parents, or popular at school where the girls would fawn over him.

Something for his own; to be just his and unable to be taken from him, not by anybody. 

I’m right here, Angel. You just don’t ever see me. 

Bucky has done nothing short of pine after you from afar; stealing glances and furtive wanders to get close in any way he can. 

He knows you wouldn’t go out of your way to talk to him – you don’t run in the same circles and you are definitely not socially compatible. That doesn’t stop him from imagining how soft your skin must be, or how flawlessly your body would melt against his as he railed you into his bed. Your heavenly little cries of his name, breathless chants pleading him to “Keep going!” and “Don’t stop!” never leave his mind. They fuel his needy desires at night until he can get the real thing, whimpering your name until his voice is hoarse as he fucks his fist over and over and over – the thought that it was your hand or your pillowy lips guiding him into ecstacy pushes him to the very brink of insanity. 

The dreams will do for now, he thinks privately as he stares at you through the glass pane of his office wall, straight to your cubicle, the sound of your laughter echoing down the hall and muffled through the glass. He’s managed for the last six months since he first saw you, it’s fine. 

Impatience chips away at his resolve, though, and his fuse is shortening by the day.  No matter what it takes, no matter who you think is good for you right now, Bucky will have you, and when he does… He’s not ever letting you go.

[stinmybubs]

AudioFic Fluff

AN: an audiofic will be fics I base off of songs and audios!

B. Katsuki x AFAB! Reader

"Somethin Stupid" -By Frank Sinatra, and Nancy Sinatra

"I know you stand in line, until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me."

Your class was currently at the Quirk Training Camp. You all were at least trying to cook everyone dinner, sharing laughs, and playing around without a care in the world.

Katsuki couldn't help but stare, every part of you memorized him, he couldn't think of anything more beautiful.

"And if we go someplace to dance, I know that there's a chance you wont be leaving with me."

When you and Katsuki snuck off he didn't expect you to have set up a speaker in beautiful clearing in the trees. the moonlight dancing on your face perfectly shaping your features.

"Wanna dance Katsu?"

"And afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two."

He held you by your waist, guiding you around the clearing, looking at you with them most adoration he's ever had for a person. He loved the way your smile made him feel, the way you mad him feel.

he coulnd't help it, his mouth moved on his own. This feeling was taking over his body, imagining your futures together he uttered the words.

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like..-"

"I love you...y/n"

He could feel you stop moving along with him, your smile fading ever so slightly. His heart dropped looking at the dejected look on your face, you seemed scared, and confused.

"I can see it in your eyes, that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before."

"Katsu...do you really? Do you really mean it? Its not some cruel joke?" Tears began to flow from your eyes, making his heart sink. He hated seeing you cry, he hated hurting you.

"And thought its just a line to you for me it's true, it never seemed so right before."

"I do...I mean it so fucking much, every day I want to say it, every minute or every time I see you! Fuck! you mean so much to me, yer always in my head." he kissed your trails of tears holding you tightly trying his best to make his words true.

You had been confessed to the night before, but it was just an immature joke bye a bunch of class 1-B boys who wanted to make fun of you.

"I practice everyday to find some clever lines to say to make the meaning come true."

From that day on he made it his duty to say those words whenever he could, it didn't matter what you were doing even just passing each other. Hell he didn't even care that others heard, he just wanted you to know he meant every single I love you.

"But I think until I'll wait until the evening gets late and I'm alone with you."

The two of you, sitting in the same place you had previously danced in, watching the sunset in peace and quiet. Katsuki leaned back, letting his hands hold the weight of his body as he glanced over to you.

You turn to him, grabbing his hand to compare your hand sizes, your eyes curious. He gave you a smirk, intermingling his hands with yours, making sure you couldn't let go of his hand.

Your face flushed, since you couldn't let go you simply lowered your hands and looking back at the sunset clearly not wanting to make any eye contact with Katsuki.

"The time is right your perfume fills my head. The stars get red and oh, the night's so blue."

The silence was killing bakugou, you could feel his hands getting sweatier by the second.

"Katsu, you're gonna end up exploding my hands with how much you're sweating." You giggle, lifting both your hands up again. Oh how he loves your laugh.

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like."

"I love you."

Katsuki leans closely, closing the distance between you and him placing his lips onto yours. Your eyes widening in shock as his sudden movements.

"The time is right your perfume fills my head the stars get red and oh, the nights so blue."

You tear up a little bit, finally letting him in leaning further into the kiss your eyes slowly closing as you two loose yourself in each others embrace.

"And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like..-"

"I love you Katsuki."

you too stop kissing for a brief moment, making eye contact, your bodies slowly heating up from all the intense emotions coursing through your bodies.

"I love ya' too, ya idiot." He places his forehead against yours, closing his eyes briefly.

"Well I'm your idiot now." You giggle.

"Yeah ya' are."

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Rose, Lemon and Berry from the HC ask game with all three of your boys <3

Thank you for requesting, dear anon! I hope you like what I came up with :)

Rose: What part of falling/being in love do they get the most joy out of?

Ahhh this was a hard one to fill but I really enjoyed it :) I wrote 2 things for each because I’m indecisive! 

Frank

There’s so many things that he enjoys about being in a relationship, this man is not looking for simple notches on his belt. (I know he has had one night stands but CMON y’all. Taking Beth’s kid out for breakfast? If the Amy stuff never happened, he wouldn’t have left.)

I think he enjoys two things most: having someone in his life to protect and take care of, and being able to imagine a future again. 

Frank is obviously an Acts of Service™️ kinda dude, but like he clearly enjoys doing things for others just because! 

If there is a way he can help someone, especially someone he cares about, he will. I think it’s just as much to make him feel good as it is to make you feel good. He wants to do something kind with his hands rather than cause more hurt. 

Also, he just loves being a husband and having a family. (Helping Sarah and the kids, taking Amy in, it’s so clear he wants the family thing again)

I don’t know if this is a consequence of his own tragedy but he’s so willing to play the father figure. I don’t necessarily think he’d want to have more kids of his own, but I think domestic life with a significant other would be so enjoyable for him and allow him to heal. 

Matt

Companionship and trust. 

This is absolutely a symptom of his trauma but he is so overjoyed to have someone who actually enjoys being around him. 

He cannot understand why, but the fact that you keep coming back despite all his flaws makes his heart happy every single day. 

He just enjoys the idea that someone out there is thinking about him, waiting for him. 

Also, the idea that someone trusts him wholeheartedly after finding out what he can do and what he’s done, he can’t fathom it. And once he’s obtained it, he could cry. He’s not used to someone having so much faith in him. 

Sure, you worry about him, but you still want to be with him despite his work after hours. It’s more than he could ask for. 

Mikey

Having someone to care for him and expose him to life outside of his family. 

It sounds really selfish, but we all know he’s anything but a selfish partner. 

It’s been so long since comfort was something within his reach and you just make it seem so simple. Every time you wrap your arms around him, it feels like his knees might give out. 

It’s like you can read his mind, you’re always there to hold him but you can tell when he needs space. If he’s not ready or is unable to talk about something, you never pressure him

It’s a genuine love he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

And the weight of the family business gets heavier by the day, so having someone who isn’t wrapped up in all that constantly is such a breath of fresh air.  

He gets caught up in celebrating the little things with you. Like a good cup of coffee or a pretty sunset. 

Lemon: What is something seemingly inconsequential that can put them in a bad mood for the rest of the day?

Frank

Missing breakfast. 

I think on some level he’s used to it, living in strenuous conditions overseas for so long and everything, but it never fails to piss him off. 

This man is hungry all the time. He’s not picky, but food is a must. 

He also thrives on a strict routine. 

So missing the very first meal of the day is just that much worse than any other meal because it also throws his routine completely out of whack. 

He will be so grumpy, drinking his coffee on an empty stomach with a scowl firmly planted on his face. 

I think he’d be easily appeased though. If you brought him takeout or a snack, he’d get over it pretty quickly. 

Hangry Frank, my beloved. 

Matt

Unseasonably bad weather. Especially snow and big storms. 

He can sense it coming, but that doesn’t make it any less shitty on his senses. 

Snow makes things muffled and I would assume rain is just a lot. If it’s loud to someone with normal hearing, it must be unbearable to him some days.  

As an autistic person, rain, wind, and snow are just the fucking worst to be out in, even for a short little walk to work. I imagine it would be similar for Matt. 

He spends the rest of the day so miserable because of the cold or his damp clothes and it just ruins everything. 

He would definitely give you the sad puppy eyes when he got home and just open his arms for a hug. 

His bad day would be forgotten if you wrapped him in a soft blanket and pet his hair. Hair pets solve most of his problems. 

Mikey

Being forced out of bed urgently. 

This one is a lil generic but hear me out. 

I feel like Mikey’s morning routine has become a little safe haven for him, and it’s a huge indicator of his stress levels as well as a designated time for relaxation so he doesn’t trigger a seizure. 

If he wakes up late or is immediately forced to handle some family BS, it just immediately forces him into an anxious spiral about his own health. 

If it does end up causing a seizure, I think his self-consciousness and justified grumpiness would last the whole week at least. Poor thing. 

I think some comforting actions that he’d appreciate would be assisting with things he didn’t want to do the rest of the day? Maybe refilling his meds or making/ordering food. 

He’s absolutely a quality time and acts of service guy, so showering him with attention and helping him out however you can would definitely get him through his bad mood. 

Berry: What makes them happier than perhaps it should? Do others know about it?

This is peak HC, outta left field shit. But I am so confident about them 😂

Frank:

Seeing a dog get really excited over something silly. Like chasing their own tail, or seeing a shadow. 

Frank just enjoys dogs and their innocence so much. Anytime he sees one of them get genuinely excited for next to no reason, it brightens his day. 

I think very few people get to see Frank’s real smile but his partner definitely would. And he might not verbally express how happy dogs make him, but it wouldn’t be hard to figure out. 

Matt

This man enjoys hearing the birds in the morning. 

This is absolutely me projecting bc I love looking at birds but they have such beautiful and unique sounds, but I think he would love distinguishing between them. 

Any day he gets to walk past a green area with some songbirds is a good day. 

I think he would definitely share this with someone he cared about, but he might have to work up to it. (Y’all know how he is with vulnerability.)

Mikey

Little things that make Michael happy? Romance novels and soap operas

They’re so cheesy and he loves it. His life is so dramatic that sometimes it’s nice to just be dropped into a whirlwind love story that moves at lightning speed. 

Not to mention the drama in soap operas far outweighs his life. At least he’s never fallen down an elevator shaft!

I think he’d be too embarrassed to tell his SO but would love to read/watch with them if they asked.

[sam-loves-seb]

HellO hi I need to read every single one of the works you listed in the worksinthedocs list because you are literally my fave writer in the history of fanfiction BUT I especially need to know about the babysitting Liam one and the magic au one!! What are they? What era are they from? Can you share a tiny piece of them please?

Thanks ily

omg hi hi hello, you are so incredibly kind thank you 💙💙 in a perfect world someday i will actually finish everything in the worksinthedocs list but in this world i will try my best !

for now i will offer a bit of insight into two of them under the cut

okay so:

babysitting liam:

the babysitting liam fic is slightly misleading considering he's like, twelve in this fic (it's post-canon) and doesn't actually need a babysitter, but the vibe still stands

it's set in a post-canon world where liam lives with lip, tami, and fred (in a very cramped in-law apartment attached to tami's parents house) and there's not a lot of room, or privacy, and fred's teething so nobody is sleeping, and Big Brother Ian swoops in and tells liam he can spend the weekend at his and mickey's apartment if he needs a break from lip-tami bickering and the baby crying all the time

(it's not that liam doesn't like living there, he just needs a break)

so essentially it's like a 3-4 chapter fic of liam spending the weekend with ian and mickey and doing fun things together and generally having quality brother (and brother-in-law) bonding time

and mickey pretends to hate the idea of liam invading their space for a whole weekend, but he's a softie, and next to ian, liam is his favorite gallagher sibling, so of course he caves and ends up having a good time in the end

here's a snippet (in case the fic never sees the light of day)

“How’s the kid?” Mickey asks, grabbing his controller again and exiting out of his game. He pulls up Netflix. “Liam?” Ian asks, and Mickey nods. “He’s… fine.” Mickey quirks a brow. “Fine?” “Yeah,” Ian sighs, climbing over the back of the couch and more or less falling into Mickey’s side. “Fred’s teething. I don’t think anyone’s really sleeping over there.” “Poor kid.” “He’ll be fine. I mean, at some point the teething stops.” “I meant Liam.” “Oh.” Mickey presses a soft kiss to Ian’s hairline. “Kid needs to sleep.” Ian wiggles his way under Mickey’s arm, tucking his face in his husband’s neck. He presses his lips against the warm skin, just holding them there for a minute. He breathes Mickey in, the faint smell of sweat and cigarettes mixing with the fading deodorant from this morning. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move. Mickey’s hand sneaks under the hem of Ian’s t-shirt, his thumb gently stroking arcs across Ian’s hip. He gives him a minute, lets him breathe—but he knows his husband too well. “What?” Mickey almost whispers. Ian sighs quietly. “Like you said…” He blinks and his eyelashes brush against Mickey’s neck. “Kid needs to sleep.” Mickey pulls back just far enough to look at Ian’s face. His eyes narrow. “…What did you do?” “Nothing.” “Uh huh,” Mickey says, tongue in cheek, almost biting back a smile. “What did you do?” Ian shrugs, suddenly looking everywhere but at Mickey. “I… may have told Liam he could stay with us this weekend.”

...yeah, so.

i have the first chapter written and part of the second so who knows what'll happen with that eventually

anyway--

magic au

i have no snippets of this to share so have some random thoughts from my unhinged 1k outline that sits in this doc:

this one is set in an world (s1 timeline) where people can have magical powers, but they're rare, so when ian first discovers that he's one of those few people who has magical abilities, he mostly keeps it to himself. lip's known since they were pretty young, helping ian to develop it and train it, and ian tells fiona eventually, but she claims she already knew

none of the other gallagher siblings have powers, and this has always confused ian until he realized his biological father isn't frank, but a guy who lives in a cushy northside house with a successful career and life--no doubt products of some kind of power--and then it clicks

anyway, life largely remains the same as canon for ian and co. because he's only 15 and he still has a long way to go with mastering his abilities and everything, and then: he meets mickey

and ian's powers? well, they're somewhere along the lines of mind control.

and yeah maybe he was going to use magic to get mickey to give back the gun that he stole, and maybe he has a crisis about whether or not he accidentally did use it to make mickey fuck him instead of beat the shit out of him (he didn't), but it all works out in the end because mickey gave the gun back anyways

and mickey keeps ian grounded, because yeah he shows up to the store for a booty call when ian asks, but he always tells ian not to kiss him, and though the rejection stings a little, it reassures ian that mickey is of his own mind when they're hooking up and he's not somehow accidentally under ian's control--because how else is he supposed to explain mickey fucking milkovich suddenly jumping his bones every five seconds when a week ago he wanted to kill him

anyway.

long story short, mickey ultimately finds out about ian's powers after kash catches them, after mickey comes back to the store the next day, after mickey mocks him and tries to rob him again and kash fires one bullet into the fucking drywall, barely missing mickey's head

his finger's on the trigger and his aim's a little better, and that's when ian drops what he's doing and uses his powers

(probably should have mentioned before this that kash already knew about them, something about them having secrets between them (ew) whatever)

ian stops kash from shooting mickey in the store--even though kash is fighting the hold ian has on him--and our story starts (ends?) there because that's as far as i got with that one

so, yeah.

if you're somehow still reading this long ass post, thanks for staying 'til the end. come bully me talk to me about these or any other half-formed fics/ideas from my worksinthedocs list anytime.

[white-collar-cannibal]

i've got to fold because these hands are just too shaky to hold

hey uh. sneeg experiences the aftermath of charlie's sixty hour gay people mind project. made a joke about this in the tags once. and then. and then. includes: internalized homophobia (vague), brief hallucination

Charlie opens his mouth once, closes it, pauses a long time, then spits out, “Sneeg, you’re my brother, and I love you, yeah?”

“Wh- Bad opener. What is it? What’s wrong?”

“No, it’s- there’s nothing wrong. I’m just- I-,” He pauses again, scrunches his face, and relaxes it. “Is Frank your boyfriend?” and Sneeg doesn’t know what’s wrong, but he feels like he’s going to vomit, and Charlie keeps talking like he can’t tell. “I didn’t want to assume if the answer was no and- I trust you, you know, I’m just scared. I didn’t even know about- that you could be… like that until like last week and- you know, I don’t know, I don’t know why it’d be a problem, ‘cause it’s your business and it’s off set but it feels bad to think about and, God I’m scared for you two. I don’t know, man- whoa, hey, are you okay?” 

Sneeg wants the ground to open up beneath him and swallow him whole. He really does. It’s like all the air in the room suddenly weighs so much, and it’s taking so much effort to just breathe. He doesn’t know either, about anything, doesn’t know how to pick apart what feels like every single emotion happening in his body at once: fear and anger and disgust and flickering hope and pure, pure confusion. The answer is no, but his mouth says, “You- you can’t tell anyone, Charlie, please,” and he’s crying, he’s crying and he doesn’t know why.

“Oh no, no, of course, hey, come here.” Charlie wraps his arms around Sneeg, and Sneeg presses his face into his shoulder and sobs, even though part of him hates Charlie right now for having brought this up, for robbing him of the chance to live in perfect ignorance forever. Every thing he thought was fine has been dragged, by the ankle, down a deep dark hole he doesn’t know if he can pull them out of. All the casual touch, the want to be alone together, the calling of the mouth to bite and rip and tear, revealed for what they must have been the whole time, the gut-twisting fact of it: something in his brain went off, saying, "You can do that???", and he knows he wants the answer to be yes so bad. 

What the fuck does he actually do now? If Showfall finds out, they’ll know whatever’s wrong with him is incurable, it’s in his bones and will never be rid from him, because he wants it so bad. He wants all the things he’s seen young people in love do in shows, holding hands and kissing on the lips and sleeping in the same bed. God, he feels so stupid even thinking about it. He’ll never have it, really, because Showfall will find out, and they’ll lock him in that little room for a month again, or something worse he hasn’t ever seen - because whatever instinct in his brain makes him feel wrong to want this came from them - and he’d take anything over that, cut off his hand that would reach to touch, take out his eye that would look with longing. He just- he can’t let them know. It’s not even a question. It’s not an argument, not a dialogue or a debate, just the flat neutral fact of the matter. Yes, it hurts to want, but Sneeg knows exactly how long you can live without, how long it takes to starve, and he cannot even conceive of the alternative.

It’s fine. It’s just the fact of the matter. He’s fine. He does not, three days from now, stand perfectly still for hours on end in the cabin because he can see the little light in the corner of his eye from the camera rolling, even when he’s gotten no instructions, even when the lights go out. He’s fine. He’s so fine.

[unstablebutsane]

i actually didn't want to cry right now, but both joongdunk and jokezo makes me want to so here i am.

my last commentary..

first of all, zo's behavior (him trying to pull away joke from this situation) is understandable. in my point of view, its like zo have been way too focus on working hard to make his parents be proud of him only for him to realize that he should have more focus to his parents..

because what's the use of these achievements if his father won't see it anymore? what's with all of these hardwork if the reason why he keep working will be gone?

although im so sad for joke in this response, as he find himself wanting to take care of zo every single time. joke's commitment in taking care of zo is commendable. i would want someone to take care of me like joke did honestly.

zo's mom and joke's dad have the same problem; expressing their love towards their children. finally, i thank for the directors for not letting this situation slide and have the time to fix the family problem before the series end. i love how frank jokezo are in fighting for each other in front of the families. i love how vocal they are in making them understand that what they need is words of affirmation.

i just love how this is not rush at all. i love how they solve problems quickly but not feeling rush at all. i love how they went back to the night they got their first kiss and redo it all over again but now with certainty of feelings. i love how vocal zo is in wanting joke to be part of his life forever.

i love how the show ends.

love how zo realized that his life doesn't end in losing the scholarship with joke being there, always... always remind zo that he is worth it no matter what path he takes on and no matter whether he had those achievements or not. joke have been a great emotional support to zo and I love how in the end he realize that he shouldn't look down on himself and instead boost his confidence and self esteem.

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

The Other Evans Girl [Part Thirty Four]

Fandom: Harry Potter [Marauder’s Era]

Pairing: Sirius Black x Original Female Character, Sirius Black x Daisy Evans, James Potter x Lily Evans

Characters: Sirius Black, Original Female Character, Daisy Evans, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Alice Fortescue, Frank Longbottom, Marlene McKinnon, Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort, Peter Pettigrew, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix LeStrange, Walburga Black, Orion Black, Jasper Thicknesse, Barty Crouch Jr, Mulciber, Walden McNair

Word Count: 3454

Rating: Mature

Summary: Hogwarts is a safe haven, a home for many, but it’s often a place where heartache, love and complex emotions dwell and none know that better than the Marauders. Lily Evans just wants to make it out as a successful witch though the oncoming war and the ongoing advances of James Potter threaten that. Daisy Evans, her twin, has other goals. Join the Evans sisters as they make their way through Hogwarts, prepare for war and eventually find love.

Tags/ Warnings: Hogwarts, Friends, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Marauder’s Era, Teenage Angst, Babies, Weddings, Dating, Crying, Loss of Virginity, First Wizarding War, Love, Kissing, Teenagers, James Potter is a bit of a dick, Hogsmeade, 1970s, Fighting, Loss of Parents, Grief, Babies, Injuries, Gore, Harm, Christmas,  The Potter’s Mansion // Daisy’s Dress // NYE Lily’s Dress // NYE Daisy’s Dress // Lily’s Ring // Daisy’s Ring

Notes: Okay so I’ve been working on updating this and I’ve finally gone through all the chapters already written before I start writing more. It’s changed a lot so I’ve decided it’s just better to completely re-upload it.  

If you want tagging let me know

LINK TO AO3 // LINK TO PINTEREST // LINK TO ALL PARTS

After Remus had gone to bed Daisy and Sirius decided it was probably best if they went to their retrospective bedrooms and tried to catch up on whatever sleep they could manage. And after a few kisses goodbye, which admittedly took longer than either of them planned, Daisy left Sirius at the bottom of the dormitory stairs watching her with an adoring smile as she disappeared around the spiral.

Daisy’s heart was still thudding in her chest as she climbed towards her room still thinking about the dark-haired boy at the bottom. Her boyfriend. Sirius was her boyfriend, and she had never felt so happy because after months of wondering, worrying and trying to convince herself they were better as friends they were finally together. She was who he wanted to be with, her, and she still couldn’t quite believe it.

As she crept into the dormitory she realised just how cold the morning air was around her not that her bunkmates were impervious to the cold as they were all tucked up in their beds blissfully unaware of Daisy who had padded quietly through the room and jumped into bed still awash with excitement. Daisy lay in her bed for a moment, recapping the night over and over in her mind, reliving it all as if it was all happening again and as she thought about Sirius her eyes drifted shut, a smile on her face.

Sirius, however, could not sleep because if it wasn’t his excitement keeping him awake it was his friend. Though Remus looked dog tired, his eyes growing more sunken and purple the longer he remained conscious, he had waited for Sirius to walk through the door and immediately bombarded him with questions. Sirius, who was also tired, managed to keep himself awake to answer every single thing his friend threw at him until finally he felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes open much longer and he said, ‘Moony, let’s call it a night eh?’ 'Sorry,’ Remus said bashfully, 'I guess I didn’t realise how excited I was for the two of you to actually get together.’ 'And I thought I was the one who was supposed to be overjoyed eh?’ Sirius chuckled, settling down in his bed. Remus paused, he was still sitting up, watching Sirius worriedly as he asked, ‘you are though, right? I mean you’re not going to do anything daft are you?’ 'No Moony,’ Sirius said rolling his eyes. Remus nodded. 'Good, good,’ he replied, shuffling down in his bed allowing the two to fall quiet for a moment before he asked, ‘how are you going to tell everyone? I mean Prongs won’t be happy you were able to ask an Evans out five times quicker than him.’ 'I’m sure Lily can find a way to comfort him,’ Sirius quipped, 'besides I don’t know if we have to think of that just yet.’ 'Why?’ Remus asked, pushing himself onto his elbow so that he could see Sirius who was staring up at his canopy.

'Well I don’t know if we want to tell everyone just yet,’ Sirius said.  'For god’s sake,’ Remus sighed, forcing Sirius to roll over and look at him with a scowl on his face as he hissed, ‘don’t be like that!

‘I’m not being like anything you’re not playing this like a game are you?’ Remus asked.

‘No I’m not,’ Sirius sulked, ‘in fact, I’m fucking terrified I’m going to mess it up. I really love her mate.’ 'I know,’ Remus said shaking his head, 'sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.’ 'You didn’t,’ Sirius said, waving him off with a sigh, ‘I guess I just wanna make sure she’s okay. So, as far as I’m concerned I’m going to let her call the shots y'know?’ 'Yeah, I get it,’ Remus smiled, ‘though don’t think you’ve got much to worry about for what it’s worth. She’s crazy about you.’

And before Sirius could think of what to say back he could hear the faint sound of snoring as his friend fell asleep, unable to fight the fatigue any longer. Sirius succumbed too soon after.

✵✵✵

When he awoke the dormitory was empty which wasn’t a surprise as given that when he checked his clock and found that it was half-past eleven which explained everyone’s absence. James would no doubt be training, Peter would be at the gobstones tournament he had been rabbiting on about for most of the week and Remus would be with Madam Pomfrey, who liked to double check on him the morning following a change.  Figuring there wasn’t much reason to lounge around in bed he got up and changed so that he could head downstairs only as he got to the bottom step he found Daisy sitting on the girl’s staircase, her elbows on her knees propping her head up. At the sound of his approach she looked up, smiling when she realised who it was, before quickly coming over to meet him. Fortunately they were hidden away from the bustle of the common room by the thick stone wall which meant that she was able to wrap her arms around his neck, allowing him to hold her by the waist as she leant up and kissed him tenderly. Sirius’ stomach fluttered slightly as she pulled away watching him with sparkling green eyes.

‘Good morning to you too,’ Sirius grinned. ‘Morning,’ she smiled back, ‘finally decided to climb out of bed huh?’ ‘If I’d have known you were waiting for me I would’ve got up a little earlier,’ Sirius teased. ‘I wasn’t waiting,’ Daisy rebutted though she smiled as Sirius raised an eyebrow, ‘okay maybe I was but I wanted to talk to you before…’ ‘Before?’ Sirius asked. ‘Before everybody harangues us,’ Daisy said. ‘Ah,’ Sirius said. ‘I just,’ Daisy sighed dropping her gaze. Sirius waited patiently, not missing the look on her face which was now absent of the happiness that had only just been there. ‘Come on babe,’ Sirius said, ‘whatever it is just tell me.’

‘I just…I don’t want you to get the wrong idea,’ Daisy started. Sirius looked as if he was going to stay something but she soldiered on, ‘I’m really happy we’re together. Honestly, I am.’

‘Okay,’ Sirius said, as she bit her lip nervously.

‘It’s just that well, up until yesterday we sort of looked as if we were with two other people. And I know people have been whispering about me and Lily since Christmas, Lily even more so now that she and James are together-’ ‘You don’t want to tell people we’re together,’ Sirius finished. Daisy looked at him meekly and nodded.

‘Okay,’ he replied without deliberation. ‘Okay?’ she asked perplexed. ‘Yeah, if that’s what you want then okay,’ he stated, ‘personally, I couldn’t give a monkeys what the gossips of Hogwarts think but I get it.’ ‘You do?’ she asked hopefully. ‘You’ve had a lot going on besides this way we get to enjoy it a little more. Just the two of us,’ he smiled kissing her forehead. ‘Well and Remus,’ Daisy giggled. ‘Okay but he doesn’t get to kiss you like this deal?’ Sirius said leaning in and kissing her. ‘I don’t know about that,’ she mumbled into his lips, allowing him to push her back until she was boxed in against the cold stone wall, only breaking apart as they heard the sound of someone approaching.

Luckily they managed not to get caught, the pair of them a reasonable distance apart when a brown-haired first year appeared in stairwell. He looked startled to see them in the stairway and scuttled quickly past them and up the boy’s stairs without a word. Once the boy was out of sight Sirius pulled her back towards him but she stopped him, putting her palm against his chest.

‘Not here,’ Daisy whispered, looking around self-consciously. ‘Babe, we could’ve been naked in front of him and I don’t think he would’ve said anything,’ Sirius chuckled. ‘True,’ she giggled, ‘but still.’ ‘Well that’s a shame because I don’t think I can go all day without kissing you again,’ he whispered in her ear making a shiver run down her spine. ‘Well in that case why don’t we find somewhere you won’t have to,’ Daisy mused, pulling away from him and heading to the common room, a cheeky smile on her face. Sirius followed straight away.

✵✵✵

Luckily for Sirius and Daisy dodging their friends for the whole of Sunday wasn’t hard to do. With everyone busy with their own stuff the two of them chose to spend the day in the attic listening to music, reading and kissing, lots of kissing. Now that they could do it whenever they wanted they couldn’t resist the temptation and since they had decided not to tell their friends just yet they figured they better make the most of it before they were forced to act as if nothing was going on. Which is why they were surprised when they got down to breakfast on Monday morning and found people staring at them, furtive whispers and glances following them as they walked between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables.

‘Why is everyone staring at us?’ Daisy whispered as they headed to the end of the table where their friends were congregated. ‘So I’m not imagining it then,’ Sirius grumbled making Daisy frown.

‘You don’t think Remus told anyone, right?’ she asked worriedly. ‘No, he wouldn’t do that to us,’ Sirius said firmly, relieving her nerves just a touch. He was right whatever was going on wouldn’t be because of him, as happy as he was for them he was a good friend.

‘You’re right,’ she agreed.

James, Lily, Peter and Alice were already sitting at the table when they reached it, with Alice saying hello to the pair of them as Daisy slid in beside her, Sirius opting to sit on her other side though as Daisy replied to her friend he stayed quiet, smiling politely at her before pouring himself a cup of tea. He could already feel Lily’s eyes on Daisy, her porridge now abandoned as her gaze homed in on her sister and he thought it best to busy himself for whatever was coming.

‘So,’ Lily said, staring solely at her sister who looked up from the toast she had just grabbed upon hearing her speak. If she had been nervous about all the eyes on her Lily’s piercing gaze was another matter altogether. She felt Sirius tense beside her, though neither of them looked at each other. Instead Daisy mustered the most casual voice she could and replied, ‘so?’

‘What’s going on?’ Lily demanded. ‘What do you mean?’ Daisy asked, hanging back before she offered explanation, after all, she didn’t know what ammo her sister had and it would be foolish to rush in and explain herself when Lily might not have a clue as to what was truly going on. If anything Daisy didn’t really know what was going on, the stares and suspicions just as much a mystery to her as anyone.

‘What happened after you left the pub on Saturday? I figured it was something since I didn’t see you all yesterday and everyone’s gossiping today,’ Lily said. ‘Gossiping about what?’ Sirius said casually. Daisy glanced at him and saw his expression was cool and collected but there was something behind his eyes that showed different, a hardness to it. ‘I don’t know,’ Lily said, ‘Mar said something about Michael telling Pierre about the two of you in his dorm room but I don’t know what he’s said.’ ‘Oh,’ Daisy said, her mind reeling as she wondered exactly had Michael been saying to people. Under the table, she felt Sirius’ hand rest on her thigh reassuringly. ‘Well?’ Lily said expectantly. ‘Lil maybe she doesn’t want to tell us,’ James said nervously, ‘and I don’t know if I want to know what the two of them were doing anyway.’ ‘Nothing, nothing was happening between us, whatever people are talking about I don’t care,’ Daisy lied, trying to ignore the hammering in her chest. This was why she had been reluctant to be open about her and Sirius just yet. Even without whatever Michael had been saying people had seen them together and for her to be with a new boy just a couple days after that would make the gossips of Hogwarts even worse she was sure.

‘Are you sure because there must-’ Lily started but Sirius cut her off, the casualness gone from his voice, the hard edge in its place as he said, ‘Lil maybe just drop it for now, yeah?’

Daisy watched as Lily glared at him, his warning making her lips purse in a way that didn’t leave her looking too dissimilar to Professor McGonagall but nevertheless, she dropped the subject. Daisy heaved an internal sigh of relief and though she engaged as they told her and Sirius about winning the pub quiz trophy, and Alice’s subsequent vomiting in said trophy, she couldn’t help but shake that uneasiness.

It didn’t even lift as they made their way to their classes as the stares and whispers followed her from lesson to lesson meaning that by the time school was over she as exhausted. She and Sirius even chose to go to the library after dinner as it was emptier than most places and people were so focused on their own work they didn’t bother her much but come the next morning, when gossip was still abuzz, she couldn’t help herself.

‘Where are you going?’ Sirius asked as he watched her march away from him towards the Ravenclaw table. Daisy could see people turning to watch her but she didn’t care. Even Sirius sensed there was no point getting involved and he simply sat down beside his friends at the Gryffindor table which consisted of the Marauders watching with amusement and the girls who seemed frantic about what she was going to do.

As Daisy reached her destination she could feel all eyes on her apart from one set, Michael, who was still facing his friend until Daisy cleared her throat, forcing him to turn and look at her, his expression cool yet sheepish as he said, ‘what do you want?’

‘I think we better talk,’ she replied. ‘Oh yeah?’ Michael snorted. Daisy clenched her jaw, trying to understand that her actions towards Michael weren’t exactly justified and that she should expect some animosity even if it was hard to do so. ‘Yeah,’ Daisy said. ‘He doesn’t want to talk to you,’ a blonde girl Daisy didn’t know the name of sneered from across the table which was unfortunately enough to make her lose any understanding as she grabbed Michael by the arm and yanked him up off the bench as she said, ‘yeah well I want to talk to him.’ ‘Daisy,’ Michael grunted as she dragged him to the end of the table meaning that more eyes were on them even if they were out of earshot. As she let him go he huffed, pulling at his sleeve irritably to get it back into position.

‘Look I know you’re angry at me,’ Daisy started, earning a glare as he said pointedly, ‘can you blame me?’ ‘No,’ she said guiltily, ‘I didn’t mean to run out like that.’

‘I still don’t even know why you did. I mean we were having fun or at least I thought we were and then you, well, throw yourself at me and somehow it’s my fault,’ he ranted, ‘then you run way and disappear on me for days.’ ‘Just one day,’ Daisy reasoned, her tone too indignantly given she knew he was right. ‘Either way I was left with no explanation,’ he countered.

‘I wish I could explain,’ she said, biting her lip, ‘but I can’t all I can say is that I thought I liked you, I did like you but just…not enough. I’m sorry.’

‘Well at least now you’re being honest with me instead of running away,’ he said, sighing as she frowned, ‘apology accepted.’  

‘Thanks,’ Daisy nodded.

She was going to leave it there, everything she wanted to say out in the open, but Michael glanced around the hall, looking to see if they were still out of earshot as he said, ‘I want to say sorry too.’

‘What for?’ she asked confused.

‘Well after you sorta left me all confused I was upset and in the morning some of my mates were talking about how they’d seen us together in the dorm and,’ he hesitated. ‘And?’ Daisy said worry now creeping into her stomach. ‘And they were ragging on me for us two y’know,’ he said, blushing as realisation set in. ‘But we didn’t!’ Daisy protested. Now it all made sense, the stares and glares. People didn’t care they weren’t a couple, they were just under the impression she’d used him. ‘I know,’ he said, ‘but when they said it I didn’t correct them and then word got out.’ ‘And now everyone thinks we slept together,’ she grumbled. ‘Yeah,’ Michael said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. ‘Great,’ Daisy said snarkily. ‘I’m sorry,’ Michael said. ‘Well I guess I can’t blame you,’ she reasoned. Sure he should’ve corrected his friends but after the whiplash she’d given he she supposed she understood how he’d gotten to that situation. And it wasn’t as though she could afford enemies, not with half the school on her back, so she asked, ‘so we’re alright?’

‘Yeah we’re alright,’ he nodded, ‘I er, should probably…’

‘Yeah, yeah me too,’ she agreed, offering him one last smile before they made their way back to their respective tables.

Of course when she got to her friends they were all watching her with anticipation, the most concern on Sirius and Lily’s faces though it was only her sister who spoke up, trying to sound casual as she said, ‘so is everything sorted?’ ‘Well, all of the school thinks I shagged Michael and then dumped him but other than that yeah we’re sorted,’ Daisy grumbled.

‘Wait so you two didn’t? Because I heard Melanie Fisher talking about it in Care of Magical creatures and she said that-’ Peter said stopping with a grunt as a distinct thud was heard underneath the table, James smiling sympathetically at her a moment after. ‘Trust you to only listen to the wrong things Wormtail,’ Sirius said and though his tone attempted to be light it was an edge to it, one that everyone bar Marlene chose to ignore. ‘Well we know the truth whatever else is just gossip,’ Remus said, smiling sympathetically at her.

‘Yeah and if we hear anyone gossiping they’ll have to answer to us,’ James added. ‘Yeah we’ll show them,’ Peter said trying to grasp and use the clout James’ response had had. Daisy smiled, the support of her boys a small compensation in the face of high school drama but even so she didn’t want to dwell on it and said, ‘just forget it. The more you defend me the longer it’ll go on.’ ‘Daisy’s right,’ Sirius agreed, ‘the more you address things the longer it takes them to go away.’

‘Yeah besides there’ll be something else they’ll be talking about by the end of the week,’ Alice said.

Once the group agreed conversation was swiftly moved on until eventually everyone was forced to disband and head for lessons with Marlene, Alice and Peter accompanying Daisy down to Care of Magical Creatures. Yet, as Alice and Peter reached the edge of the paddock where they were having their lesson Daisy felt Marlene’s hand on her arm slowing her down and away from their others, and more importantly out of earshot. When they were far enough away, Marlene leaned in, ignoring Daisy’s confused expression as she whispered, ‘you didn’t sleep with Michael right?’ ‘No,’ Daisy said, ‘I already told you I didn’t.’ ‘But that’s not the end of the story right?’ Marlene replied, stopping altogether and looking at her friend inquisitively. Daisy tried to pull away, ‘Mar we’re going to be late.’

‘And?’ Marlene challenged. ‘Fine,’ Daisy grumbled looking at her pal who was watching her expectantly, ‘after I left Ravenclaw tower I went back to the common room and… Sirius was there.’ ‘And?’ Marlene pressed. ‘And we talked and…he kissed me,’ Daisy said, unable to stop a small smile from adoring her face. ‘Finally!’ Marlene squealed causing a few other students to look around at them though she ignored them, ‘so you two are together now?’ ‘Yes but no one knows, well apart from Remus, so you can’t tell anyone,’ Daisy said. ‘Why not?’ Marlene asked her face falling into a confused expression. ‘Because of this whole Michael thing. I mean it’s bad enough already without everything thinking I’m making my way around the school, Sirius too given that he looked like he was dating Penny up until yesterday,’ she said, ‘besides it’s been so long we kinda just wanted time to ourselves you know?’

‘Yeah I get you,’ Marlene said, ‘still I told you you’d get together didn’t I?’

‘Apparently everyone has,’ Daisy giggled, ‘Remus didn’t seem very surprised about it.’

‘That’s because the pair of you are as obvious as James and Lil,’ Marlene chuckled.

SIRIUS BLACK/SERIES TAGS

@maeisafangirl @mysteriouslydelicateface @caitlin1996 @imthebadguyyy

[transgayhawkeyepierce]

Thank you @marley-manson for tagging me in Fuck it Friday! May I present you with the Anime Man kills Frank Burns WIP I got Extremely embarrassed about half way through and dropped

"How dare a mere Captain talk to me that way! I am your Superior officer!" Frank violently jabbed at his clusters, "And you haven't given me a single salute since I've gotten here! Salute! Salute!" Frank couldn’t actually recall the protocol for saluting on an underwater vessel, but it was the thought that counts! He demanded respect!

The man's dower face broke into a thin spidery smile. "I am the Captain, because this is my ship Soldier. As you guessed, you have found yourself on a submarine, but what you failed to realize is that we are not members of some army outfit. This is a pirate ship, and you are currently 600 leagues under the sea, completely at our mercy."

“As for your salute, I hope this will do.” The Captain drew his overly-long sword, raised its blade over his brow, and swiped it through the air.

Frank threw his hands over his face and screamed. Moments passed, and his shrieks tapered off in a deflated high pitched whimper as he realized he was in no pain. “Missed me!” Frank taunted. He squashed down his embarrassment from his reaction, and triumphed in his successful dodge of the man’s attack. Foreigners and their barbaric weapons couldn’t get him!

“Oh, did I?”’

The Captain moved his finger, as if beckoning Frank to him, and Frank’s hand… broke into pieces. Frank's fingers, his palm, his arm, now inexplicably detached, floated in mid air; the sight made even more bizarre in its bloodlessness. The Captain waved his finger again, and the fragments went to him. The surreality of his icy touch, still felt, broke Frank out of his baffled trance.

“WITCH! WIIITCH!!” Frank fell down ass first and scrambled back, or at least attempted to as the back of his head thudded painfully on the floor when forgot to compensate for his now missing limb.

“Shut up!” The man’s tone was so sharp, so hateful, that it was as if his mother, his father, and every other person who had ever spoken to him that way shouted all at once. Frank felt his mouth snap shut on instinct.

The Captain advanced on him, cutting the air with his sword two more times. "I hate men like you Soldier, lap-dogs who mindlessly gobble up propaganda because you are so eager to turn your gun on another. Pathetic little boys playing dress up, who would gladly destroy a country, simply because it was demanded of you.”

The sight of pieces of himself being removed was so sudden and so unthinkable that Frank couldn’t help but feel like he was watching a picture. There was his heart, beating like it was still in his chest. There were his intestines, squirming as they digested food from the Mess. Frank tried to lift his hand and saw movement across the room. Unable to do a thing, Frank felt like a knitted scarf being helplessly unraveled.

“Selfish doctors who forget it is their duty to serve the sick and the dying," The Captain continued.

The sensation was disorienting and completely overwhelming, strange and violating as the innermost parts of him were touched. Moments became fragments, a touch on his arm as it was handed from one person to another, the grip of calloused fingers on his lung, on his heart, on the exposed muscle of his leg. A strange tight dry sensation locked his mouth. Frank tried to cry out, tried to say something, anything, tried to scream, but the oral sensation became tighter, more painful. His eyes fell on a pink mass held tightly in The Captain’s hands. With a distant mind, he realized it was his tongue.

“Have you done a single thing in your life to earn a merciful death?” The Captain asked, Frank shook, and every distant shattered piece of himself shook with him.

The man tossed his tongue over his shoulder. “No need to answer, I can take a guess.” The Captain raised his sword once more and struck.

White pain erupted from Frank's neck and hungrily raced to fill every corner of his mind. The pain was unending, it was all he’d know and all he had ever known. It destroyed his vision, his awareness, and the pain became everything and Frank became the pain. The agony was unbearable and it was crushing, crushing him, and Frank wished that he would just die. And then it was over.

And then nothing.

I'm honestly too tired to tag anyone, but if you want to share and say I tagged you feel free!

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

For number 19 in your ask game—GOD i am obsessed with The First Step of Kintsugi!! It’s my overall top favorite fanfic, ever. It makes me go absolutely insane every time I read it—screaming, crying, clawing at the walls, etc :D

I could write a whole essay about how much I love it and why, because everything about it is absolutely phenomenal. One of the things I really appreciate is the humor you’ve woven through! There’s SO many incredible lines in that fic, but one line that makes me crack up every single time I reread is pretty early on:

“I get the concern, really. But my body got like. Super weird after I got enhanced. A car could run me over and I’d just get up and walk away.”

“Did a car run you over?” demands Frank.

 “That’s not the point of this,” says Peter.  I lose my entire mind every time I read that, holy shit—just, absolutely hilarious and perfectly in character for peter.

In a more general sense, I love the way your juxtapose the most top-tier humor with the more serious parts of your work! I go on an emotional roller coaster every time, and immediately run right back around to go again. Hope you have a great day!

that line was actually one of my FAVORITE jokes to write in the entire fic and I'm SO thrilled you liked it too. like, the sheer energy of that statement. peter is a walking red flag to reasonable adults. he's so concerning. i love him so much.

i don't think i've ever taken something seriously in my life and i think that's most of where my writing style comes from. like, i'm just a clown. i do a lot of generally serious things and i've had plenty of rock bottoms to become acquainted with and i tend to carve out the space for a joke in it. i have to actively make disclaimers when i do pro bono work where i'm like "hey this is a gender marker change/immigration petition/whatever for you and that's such a big deal, i'm always down to clown but i can totally sober up and not crack any more jokes during our meeting" and i've never had a meeting where someone didn't want a little levity. like, i can definitely tell when it's not the time to make a joke but i just generally think that the world is a much nicer place to live in if your sense of comedic timing is kept in easy reach

[literaticat]

Hi Jenn. I’m… nervous. It’s been three years since I signed with my agent. We’ve gone out with numerous projects, and we’ve sold nothing. I feel like such a disappointment. I’m afraid my agent will drop me soon. What would make you drop a client? How would you do it?

It might surprise you to know that your AGENT could easily be writing me the exact same note. ("I've gone out with numerous projects, and I've sold nothing. I feel like such a disappointment. I'm afraid my author will drop me soon.")

Yes, we also get freaked out / stressed out by this occurrence. We WANT you to be super successful. We BELIEVE IN you and your work. It sucks for us when it gets rejected, too! And yes, sometimes we are walking on eggshells worried that an author is going to drop us because we keep having to bring them disappointing news or whatever it is. :-/

So, here's the thing. Not selling a book should not be enough reason for an author and agent to part ways (unless there's something else going on). Not selling a FEW books doesn't even qualify, really. I have definitely had it happen where things don't pan out, and then suddenly they do. So assuming you are turning in great mss, your agent is still excited, etc, don't go LOOKING for trouble. We don't expect every single thing to sell, and we don't hold that against you.

That said: If there is a pattern of not-selling, it COULD be that one or the other of you start to feel like maybe the agent is not doing anything to help you, and you'd benefit from a different set of eyes and new energy. That can happen. If you are feeling like you might be in a rut and you aren't sure what the future looks like, it would be great if you could have a gut-check kind of convo with your agent. (And if your agent is feeling like that, they should have a gut-check kind of convo with YOU.)

Approach this with an up-beat and positive feeling. You want what's best for you and your career. Your AGENT wants what is best for you and your career. Change is scary, but it isn't inherently BAD. If you've both given it a real effort but what is happening right now isn't forwarding your career, it's OK to change direction, and that's a good thing, actually.

(And by "change direction", that MIGHT mean changing your focus or switching things up with your writing, or MIGHT mean your agent doing things differently, or it MIGHT mean parting ways and finding a different agent, but you can't really figure that out until you have a frank conversation with them.)

Sorry this is long already. :-) To answer the second part: I wouldn't just drop a client for zero reason if I still believe in their work and think I can sell it. I *might* start to lose faith in my ability to sell it if it really is just going nowhere (the old "trying the same thing over and over and expecting different results" adage comes to mind). If I really am feeling like they need something I can't give them, it might be time to part ways, because their needs and my capabilities are not in line. But again, if that's the case, I *WANT* them to find what they need. So, while it's hardly a JOLLY thing to part ways, at the end of the day, I'm not helping them and I might indeed be holding them back, so...

And as to "how I would do it" -- Depends. In our frank conversation, I'd likely present a couple of ideas for moving forward (with or without me), and put the ball in their court. Do we change things up, move forward with hopefully new energy and new material? Do we part ways and let you find an agent who will better represent you? Or what?

But if I know for a fact that I can't continue, for whatever reason (like, my list is changing in a different direction, I don't have the time or zeal for this that I once had, you are starting to do work that I don't know how to or don't want to rep, etc) -- I'd probably write you an email to that effect and offer to follow up with a call as needed. (Because if I said all that on a call, I'd cry, and that's messy!)

[postcards-to-home]

Letting Go: 2023

‘Have you taken a look at your old posts?” Yes, sort of, thats kind of what brought me to dig that password out again to make a post. “Well read them again. They’re pretty…inspirational actually. Truly. Just please do it.”

Shape of You/ Ed Sheeran

Fitting 9 people deep into a 5 seater Toyota Fitz at 2 am was not how I anticipated starting the year off. Riding the center console with all the windows rolled up I wondered out loud who the hell was sober enough to drive this thing back to the Aruba Beach Club? Last I recalled we had closed Ricardo's down after slamming over 100 beers in 3 hours, with a unanimous cry from the bartenders, ``You guys broke the record of the most beers ever consumed in one shift.``We’d managed to hit downtown, with chaos tailing closely behind us until open signs flickered off. Someplace between the Ritz and Hilton we huddled on the beach forming a semi circle around a fat Dutchmaster with our fingers cupping the flame of a single lighter. The waves trickled below the pier we stood on as we watched the boats pass between Venezuela and our tiny island of Aruba. Leave it to D-rock to get weed immediately after passing through customs. As a gang of cousins, It was a first for us to all be together overseas. There was peace between us all as we star gazed, except for Tyler filming himself in the background talking about "getting his bag" and "visiting the red-light district". Good Ole Frank shoved us into the clown car half dead at 3 am managing to hit every speed bump he could until we crash landed at the ABC hotel. Jason never made it out of bed the next day and Frank managed to be at the pool by 9. I understand entirely how we are family after that joy ride.

Im Good (Blue) // David Guetta & Bebe Rexha

Trips with family are always special and I wish I could have had that same feeling I had cruising down the Aruban highway at 3am as I did in Las Vegas this year for my Bachelorette party. While It didn’t pan out that way that I had pictured in my mind, those that made the journey sure did make me smile. The trip itself panned out so far in the other direction I actually wondered if anyone would give a shit about that one time I had 3 vodka cranberries on a vintage casino tour where I took pictures of the retro shag rugs with cowboys on them and fell asleep by 10pm sharp. It was the same trip in which I got to dress up like a bedazzled flamingo and had all my besties shower me with love, something I can't be thankful enough for. They had the ball literally dropped on their heads and they managed to keep moving forward with my happiness as the focus. It wouldn't have been a "Nicole" Trip if I didn't make a fool of myself at least once. I realized after I got off the elevator that my underwear were in fact tucked into the outside of my shirt with the worst part being I was 100% sober. Despite no one winning thousands of dollars or managing to buy a lap dance we did trek through the desert in a hot pink jeep and that was the highlight of the entire trip.After that, we flew home, we threw out anything that had to do with those that hurt us intentionally and we let that shit go.

When I grow up // The pussycat Dolls

Fast Car// Luke Combs

The year snowballed, and if I may, I’d like to address the elephant in the room. I’ll save everyone the details but I hope this is the last year of my life I have to experience the sudden violent interjection of a fentanyl overdose once again and the familiar destruction it brings. I hope those reading never have to live with seeing your family crowded around the kitchen window sobbing as you see your uncle bent over, dead on the sofa from a coke overdose.Upsetting and startling to read? Yes, but at least he wasn't found crumpled in a ball on the bathroom floor like his son was.  It was of no surprise to receive the news, still tragic no less. It's the one time in my life I wish my intuition was wrong. My mom reminded me I’d called it,emphasizing the need to never tell her in advance when my spidey senses tell me things are going to go south with someone. I had no memory of telling cousin Robert this in January but he wasted no time reminding everyone I knew this would happen before it happened. Jay and I spoke to the officer at the scene on a first name basis hearing “This is the 9th one this week.” It clicked there standing in the rain that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, something I said to Tommy at 9 years old. He was pretty pissed to hear that back then as a 15 year old delinquent. Yet here I am breathing and his ashes are now somewhere in the Moab desert, Schaghticoke, with bitch face and gram down at the cemetery in Cohoes . It was bad enough we buried aunt Ona next to Gram on Thursday but having to go back on Friday to bury Jr in the adjacent plot the following day was just simply too much for us. Maybe we all should have taken those free narcans Grandma Debbie was giving out two Decembers ago that she got from the county jail. But I'll let that thought go.

Way of the Truine God// Tyler Childs

There came a point in the year where pounding the pavement felt like second nature. Work, farm, picking, shows, repeat.Toggling google maps and driving down back country roads into no mans land had me thinking I was pioneering my own adventure.But then standing outside some abandoned house, freezing in line with #27 stuffed in my back pocket I would wonder , is this even fucking worth it? Somewhere close by a  grouchy bastard cranked a heater next to me mumbling about the cast iron pan he wants at the sale. “Cheap thrills” Id giggle sifting through some dead person's Attic knee deep in a mouse house. I drove chaotically through the tri-county region slinging antiques, singing reggaeton of all things at the top of my lungs, driving down 787 doing 90 in a 65mph. We  trucked car loads of plants to antique shows this year all thanks to Dad, Jay mom and Toni. Success is easy when you have a mini squad of family cheering you on the sidelines, willingly sacrificing Saturday mornings to unload trailers at 7am. I was living the dream and my heart would explode on the good days. On the bad days I’d doubt myself but maybe it was willpower, or just simply my spirit throttling my vessel screaming “ You’ve got this,” but It all worked out the way either way.I let my doubt go.

Just Breathe// Pearl Jam

I understood the meaning of family even more when Jimmy and I were sipping Vodka sodas at the Saratoga Civic Center watching Marissa cross the stage for her high school graduation. Somewhere in between slow sipping and clapping Jen lost her large $1 Mcdonalds diet coke all over the venue floor.Poppy with no hearing aids stood by with judgment in his eyes while I took “Obituary” pictures. He wondered out loud "What the hell is going on," but his voice was lost in the crowd and he couldn't give damn.

Just like we did 7 summers ago, we took that first ride out to college for move in day except this time it was Marissa's turn.We dropped  Marissa off at college just two weeks shy of Jay and I’s wedding wondering what would transpire in the two weeks before her return. We conspired how her first term would go over chili and chicken tenders at the only bar in town. I heard alot of bitching about leaving a purse behind a dumpster and “I need a fucking smoke.” between gram and pops. With a black coffee and fresh pack of reservation grade cigs, poppy and I hit the road home from SUNY Morrisville. Believe it or not pops spent the entire two hours chatting about the past in a way I never knew he was capable of. I'll never see him the same way again, and i'm content with it. We started out with “ I dont believe in god so when I'm gone just do whatever makes you guys feel good,” and ended with “ I’m glad we got to talk to Nicole, I really liked it. I still don't believe in God but I believe you speak to my mom in your dreams and I can’t explain that.” It was an entire short novel of everything I ever wanted to know explained all at once leaving me with sentiments of peace.

Drive//Alan Jackson

The pivot towards happily ever after did not commence until walking back up the aisle to catch a drink in my hand.  What a magical day we had. Chalking the day up in my mind I anticipated something far less significant than what had actually happened, simply put, a beautiful day. A day that was talked about with anxiety and ten tons of stress for nearly two years straight, amassing to a single day of blissful drinking surrounded by LOVE and all our favorite people. It felt like our own movie premier, except it was the start our "New life". We had a crowd of family stare at us with tears of laughter in their eyes as we shared our first dance to Hootie and the Blow fish’s “Only wanna be with you." If you're wondering it was totally the wrong choice, last minute and we weren't nearly drunk enough to hide how mortified we were swinging each other round and round. Endless bouts of laughter rang throughout the entire night helping to deflect the thought that some of my favorite people in the world weren’t able to be in attendance that day. Despite the potential for rain as my dad predicted, the day was nothing but sunshine and bliss. A few people cried over their ex’s in the corner that I never saw while one guy went fishing in the pond catching a small mouth bass. Shortly after that he managed to drop an entire keg on his head leaving an egg sized welt on his forehead perfectly positioned for his headlamp to rest on. It all came to an end with everyone barefoot, slurring words in the barn at 2 am, muddy from drunkenly falling down the hill that the barn sat upon. With ruined dresses, we ran out of water and woke the next day with black feet and nothing but giggles. 

Galaxy// Quavo

Controversial to popular opinion, honeymoons are not easy breezy lemon squeezy and probably shouldn't be taken immediately after your wedding day unless you're prepared to melt from exhaustion prior to landing someplace thousands of miles from home. I will admit it was pretty cool to ride in a cop car through Newark airport while also being personally escorted through TSA all thanks to Josh. After that Jay and I tumbled fast, hitting EU soil with peak levels of bitchiness letting Mallorca test my zen before even getting there. European mannerisms are something we are still coming to terms with and my Spanish is still B2 at best despite Laura’s constant push for me to do more and be better. "Nico, you can do this, it will be easy, you know this." No one told me it was Catalonian Spanish..

If it weren't for Jason driving on 3 hours of sleep and a Xanax I'm not sure we would have survived the first 8 hours on the island (Ok I would have made it but it wouldn't have been an endless laugh).There is no other person on this earth I could imagine driving a fiat with into a plaza full of people..No one else I could picture driving down a one lane country rode with singing Quavos “Fuel Up” and crashing into a rock wall,forcing me to get out of the car and wave down a local for support. It would have been pretty awesome if a camera crew appeared to remind us of that moment of defeat when I bitchly slammed the car door in jays face, saying “STFU ill fix this,” while he sat defeated from the days series of unfortunate events. That tire was the only thing preventing us from entering an air-conditioned unit and I wasn't going to let my man melt away. Senior Tony came to the rescue after I waved him down through barbed fencing, letting me into his gated home to ask in Spanish for support along with his wifi password. All that to find out the parking break was jammed and our rental house had timed AC of 1 hour a day from 3-4am. 

Still,there's no person other than Jay i’d rather crash our vespa with in deadstop traffic just moments before returning the rental. Jay and I are what romcoms are made from. We lived it, we survived and we laughed the entire ride down the one lane mountain rode in one piece. We trash talked the guy with "Love” tattooed on his neck that told jay to never ride a vespa again because he's never been so scared in his life to watch a man ride one like jay.Jay's also the guy I can always count on to make friends with the black girls with the speaker and meet random townies at the bar with. His energy is truly unmatched. Bless his heart for picking me, his one beer queer that pees in dirt parking lots at 10pm on our honeymoon to live with the rest of his life.

6PM en Mallorca/ Eladio Carrion

There would be days where I was simply vibrating with the need to do it all at once and then some on an empty stomach and a few energy drinks. Healthy wasn't on my radar so I suffered the consequences. It shouldn't have been shocking to learn I was diagnosed with HSP (Highly sensitive person) but to be simply put, it felt like someone gave me the answer I’d been looking for my whole life. Jokingly, I now had an excuse for my hangry episodes, dramatic mood drops and inability to tolerate social outings for longer than 2.5 hours before committing an Irish goodbye home to charge my social battery. Swan would say “Hey Nicole, hows your HSP these days,” like an asshole and we’d all laugh at the thought of me actually having a real life crisis and not something I exaggerated. With this revelation I was mildly pissed because it meant Taylor was sort of right in saying I was autistic all those years ago. While she was sneaking cookies in her sock drawer, feeding her 8 month pregnant belly on the o there side of our shared wall, she screamed at me I was autistic because I didn’t care for loud noises or her shitty attitude. On the spectrum or not, I'll let that go too.

Seasons change and things wound down. It's January as I write this with my health intact along with everything else in my mental portfolio. I've stopped hearing from my manager “ Nicole Im worried about your mental health, maybe you should take time off.”  and instead I'm hearing from those around me “Congratulations" and "you should feel so proud." I am proud actually, its a new feeling. I learnt a lot of lessons this year but ultimately it boils down to one simple message that applies to every facet of our existence: Light & Love. Thats it.

As long as youre striving to be as close to light and love as possible, whatever that is for you, then it will all work out in the end. And It really has. My whole life feels lighter just knowing as long as I gravitate towards genuine love and goodness, all good things will follow and come back.

  "The whole universe is always about love and when it isnt about love its about the absence of love."

Thanks for reading,

NRCM

*Want to read my old posts? Curious what about the past, or just simply nosey? Click "Past Work" on the left to read all my old shit.

[whileurmine]

"then maybe he should have grown a back fucking bone and said something about it when i didn't have a pregnant girlfriend waiting for me at home, don't you think, maggie? huh? when he wasn't dating elizabeth fucking thompson out of all the seven billion people on earth?" more tears streamed down his face. frank continued to refuse to acknowledge them. they just weren't there. tyler wasn't crying in front yard, suvi wasn't waiting for him at home, ellie wasn't a few miles away thinking about her perfect relationship with a guy who had just confessed— no, no, none of it was happening. this wasn't real, it wasn't a thing. "maybe he could have said something in the last thirty years? maybe he could have stopped fuckin' with my fuckin' head like i'm a bad hand at poker he can't decide where he wants to play or not, anything besides assumin' i know what the fuck is going on in his head without him ever openin' his fuckin' mouth to say a fuckin' thing about it." it wasn't happening, none of it was happening, not one single part of it. "maybe he shouldn't have gotten back with my ex-fucking-wife. what the fuck does he want me to say to her? what the fuck is he gonna say to her? no, yeah, ellie, sorry about all the heartbreak in the last twenty fuckin' years, not my problem, though, frank showed up one day and i decided to talk out of my ass one day like i don't think—" the words formed a knot at the bottom of his throat, he choked the next few ones one, "he doesn't fucking think!" it wasn't happening and because it wasn't happening, he couldn't say it out loud, didn't have the words to, there was no way to voice something that didn't exist. — frank mean to let the small sound of his throat, a noise in between a gasp and a sob, so small it almost tip over the edge towards whiny. his breath caught at the back of his throat at the mention of arizona. he couldn't breathe anymore, didn't know how to. it was coming in ragged and not coming out at all. there were no pretty or ugly colors, everything in the world was terrible, sharp, painful, meant to hurt and harm. — frank stepped closer again, one shaky finger under the barrel of the rifle just so he could raise it to rest against the empty spot in his chest. "yeah, yeah, i'm comfortable with all that. come on. i fucked your dad's head up, i'm gonna fucking your friend's head up, don't you do something about it? defend them. fuckin' shoot, maggie. be the big girl you keep pretendin' you are. or you gonna let m do that to him every time i am fuckin' bored and need someone to fuck over. 'cause i will. i fuckin' will i swear to god."

"funny that you think we don't already have enough fodder for it on this property. what, did dad not tell you what we do around here? sawyer, go get bo and nathan please." sawyer gave a sharp nod and walked away. once he was gone, maggie dropped the gun. "he has been stuck on you forever, frank. beggin' for scraps like some pathetic dog that no one will just put out of its misery. why do you think it's alright to fuck up everyone around you just because you can't get your shit in order, huh?" maggie asked, cocking a brow. "you wanna know how this goes? you're going to fuck up my dad. which will fuck me and ellie up. and then ellie and i are going to send arizona into a spiral, likely with her little girlfriend too. don't forget libby and all the guys who live here, who will have no fuckin' livelihood anymore 'cause tyler will do something stupid and this place will fall apart." maggie knew it was cruel, but all she could do was hope that one thing, something she couldn't name, would make him break out of this, even if it hurt him. he was owed that much. "arizona and ethan will both be fucked, which will in turn fuck you up all over again. and then your girl and your little baby on the way. you comfortable with that? fuckin' up everything around you because you won't just get in your truck and go home to your happy little family in the makin'?"

[modern-vellichor]

How is it there isn’t more cockwarming with Frank Castle in the entirety of Tumblr! Can you please please please do one?

Love your writing btw xx

summary: frank likes to tease

warnings: 18+ nsfw, smut, cockwarming, guns.

a/n: I don't think Frank is patient enough for this tbh. but anything for u bae <3 also im not good at writing smut so, excuse that lolsies

"Frank," you whined. "Come back to bed."

He hadn't left. Not like he usually did. No. He usually snuck out in the middle of the night, and came home blood soaked. But today when you woke up in an empty bed, and crept through the apartment, you found Frank sitting on the couch polishing his guns.

"Not right now, sweetheart," he grumbled. "Busy."

"Seriously," you muttered. You ran your hands over his chest, up his shoulders, leaning over him until your lips brushed over his neck. "Bed. Now."

Frank chuckled at your determination. But he was stubborn as all hell. He won every argument. But you're your mothers daughter, and never stand down, even when it's good for you. Being equally as stubborn was never easy, always butting heads, but at least Frank knew that you wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of anyone who came near you.

Frank didn't move. He just sat, running his greasy cloth over every weapon that sat splayed on the table.

"I can't sleep when you're out here," you whined again, desperate to drag him away from the task at hand.

"Then sleep here."

You knew that he wanted you to curl up on the sofa next to him and sleep quietly, leaving him to his polishing. But instead, you shimmied between him and his handgun, and curled up on his lap, burying your face in his chest. You squirmed in his lap, trying to get comfortable, and had to hide your grin when he choked back a groan.

Frank nearly dropped the gun. You were one relentless son of a bitch. One of his hands curled around your waist, the other white-knuckling the gun.

"I'll tell you what, sweetheart," he negotiated. "If you can sit here, quietly, i'll let you stay."

"But?"

There was always a but with Frank.

"But, if you make a single noise, you have to go back to bed, by yourself, and leave me alone."

"Frank, I don't know what you mean," you began, frustratedly.

Then he bucked his hips. The colour flushed from your cheeks and your mouth began to water. You wanted to whimper and whine, borderline beg, but you didn't dare want to ruin the moment.

You bit your lip until it bled. Frank was honestly impressed with you. You were being well behaved, which was no small feat for you. You let him maneuver you and lift you so that he could situate himself at your entrance. You nearly screamed as he pulled your underwear aside, but instead your scrunched your eyes closed and dug your nails into his shoulders. He seated you on his lap, and you had never felt so full.

"Attagirl," he mumbled into your hair, ghosting his fingertips over the apex of your thighs. If he touched you properly, it would be your downfall.

"Don't move," he commanded. "Let me work."

And you did. You stayed still, stayed quiet. You obeyed, even though every part of you wanted to betray him, and circle your hips, and moan in his ear. You counted tiles on the wall, and watched seconds tick by. You watched the moon slowly, achingly trudge across the sky. If anybody looked in your window now, they'd see an innocent and loving scene.

You were nearly falling asleep when Frank bucked his hips. Your eyes shot open as you let out a strangled cry. Your hand shot up to cover your mouth.

"What, cat got your tongue?" Frank laughed.

"Why'd you do that?" you nearly sobbed.

"I wanted to remind you who you belonged to," he stated simply, butterflies fluttered inside of you at the words. "Let's go to bed, sweetheart."

"Fucking finally."