#then i learned to play this song in the guitar and now I'm here

[merthurians-prat-and-idiot]

9-1-1 Buddie 8x06 coda (major spoilers!)

The spirit of Eddie Diaz possessed me and here this is! V unedited as its almost 4am for me but enjoy!

Also on Ao3

🚒💫

"Did you shave your moustache?"

Its not the first thing Eddie had been expecting Buck to mention, when he'd waited him out to hear what was going on.

But, another part of Eddie sparks just a little. Something saying 'he noticed'.

Eddie shaved his trauma based facial hair, put on a song and danced around like he was a kid again. Like he was stealing the mixtape Adriana's boyfriend made her, blasting it full volume while everyone was at church and he blagged a pulled muscle from baseball practice (he only got away with that because the only thing worse to Ramon Diaz than a son, 'a man of the house' being taken down by a sore leg, was his son ditching the match and embarassing them). He would jump the stairs in twos or sometimes threes in time with the music, slide down the bannister, knee slide across the kitchen floor- playing every song on a loop (ignoring the way his heart flopped in his chest when Adri's boyfriend whispered his dedications between songs).

He'd let loose in his own house this time, joy bursting within him and then his door had been knocked on, his best friend came in, sat beside him and noticed it all.

Or, at least the moustache.

And probably the shirt, underpants and socks look.

Plus he was pretty sure Buck was sitting on the fly swatter air guitar right now.

Eddie grins unabashedly, feeling his smooth upper lip tug.

"Yeah I did, what'd you think?"

He gives his best pout just for-

Buck exhales a laugh, his head ducking with a just there smile.

There it is.

"Suits you- not that uh- not that the whole, what did Chim call it?"

"Magnum"

"Right! Magnum look didn't- but it was kinda getting a bit too similar to Gerrard and that is not a mix up I want to be part of"

Eddie snorts.

"Were you actually worried about accidentally greeting him as me? He'd sure learn a hell of a lot about racoons if you did"

"Hey- racoons are adorable and they're super intelligent!"

Eddie raised his hands in acquiesce.

"I'm not saying anything against racoons Buck, you've pleaded their case already and besides, Christopher-"

He cuts himself off and watches Buck suck in a small breath.

"Christopher loves them too"

It doesn't hurt quite so much. He finds himself smiling again.

"So, the moustache the only thing you noticed?" he sinks further into the couch, shoulder brushing Buck's.

"I figured you'd just put all your other clothes in the wash" Buck gestures up and down at him with a smirk.

He gets an eyeroll in return.

"What about you?" Eddie asks.

The question is light, but Eddie would be lying if he said he wasn't getting curious, watching the way Buck seems to curl back into himself, a halligan settling back across his shoulders.

He lets the silence linger for a moment the way he knows Buck needs.

Finally there's a sigh.

"Tommy broke up with me".

[lover-of-mine]

And I know, I know, I know, I know...

[copia]

didn't get the chance to hear the future is a foreign land in the credits so i just listened for the first time and apparently haven't cried enough to ghost in the past 24 hours

[missberrycake]

Absolutely outraged to learn that the little headcanon I dreamt up in bed this morning doesn’t work timeline-wise but screw it, I’m doing it anyway.

When Eddie was small, his mom always used to sing him Rainbow Connection from The Muppet Movie. They’d watched it together over at Uncle Wayne’s trailer when it first came out on VHS and Eddie had been entranced. He’d parked himself right up in front of the small TV, his eyes glued to this little frog playing the banjo.

His mom noticed, of course, and made it theirs. Their song for when his dad was away and they could dance in the kitchen without being yelled at. For when Eddie was sick in bed, or couldn’t sleep, or had woken up with a nightmare. For when he came home from school with grazed palms and tears in his eyes.

“Who said that every wish, would be heard and answered?” his mom sang to him, brushing away Eddie’s tears the day she told him that she was very poorly. That she had to go into hospital, just for a little while, for the doctors to fix her up.

Eddie had asked for the song to be played at her funeral, in his small voice, tugging at his dad’s shirt sleeve. He’d said no, of course. He’d never understood either of them.

But later that night, when everyone had left and his dad was asleep, Uncle Wayne led Eddie out into the backyard and picked up his old guitar. He’d smiled at Eddie as the familiar chords rang out in the night sky and Eddie’s voice trembled when he started to sing, “Why are there so many, songs about rainbows?”

Uncle Wayne’s voice soon joined his, strong and sure. “And what’s on the other side?”

Eddie smiled. Maybe it could be their song, too.

So, years later, when Eddie was shuffling around Steve’s vast kitchen, trying to find where the hell the Harringtons kept their mugs, he found himself humming along to the familiar tune with a happy heart.

“Oho, I see we’ve got another Tammy Thompson fan on our hands here,” came Steve’s voice as he and Robin sidled in and leant against the countertop.

Robin snorted. “Someday we’ll find it,” she sang, her words taking on a pitchy, mocking quality.

Steve joined in, squeaky and off-tune, “The rainbow connection.”

They were grinning at each other as they carried on. “The lovers, the dreamers -”

“Stop,” Eddie yelled, red-faced, his heart beating wildly as he clutched the empty mug in his hand. “Stop it.”

They did, with matching looks of confusion. Clearing spotting the way Eddie was breathing too hard, eyes too glassy, Steve shifted. “Shit, sorry Eddie. We didn’t mean anything.”

And it was bullshit because Eddie knew that. How could they know about that song, about his mom and Uncle Wayne and everything it meant? They couldn’t, but now Eddie had made it weird. Made it awkward. But he was still too worked up, he couldn’t explain.

“S'okay,” he said. “I guess I just don’t feel well. Might go home.”

He didn’t let either of them get another word in before he fled the house.

The next day, Eddie was disturbed from his still-embarrased wallowing by a gentle knock on his bedroom door. It was Uncle Wayne, with a soft look on his face.

“The Harrington boy’s here,” he said. “Came to apologise. Called last night, you know. We talked for a bit.”

He disappeared and moments later a contrite-looking Steve shuffled in.

Eddie pushed himself up against his headboard.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “It was just a joke Robin and I have. I would never -” He cut himself off and sat down on the end of the bed, a little sheepishly. “I got you this.”

Steve pulled his hand out from behind his back to reveal a tiny Kermit the Frog toy, complete with a small, squishy banjo.

Eddie’s chest clenched. He reached out for the toy and smiled wide at Steve.

When the other man dragged him into a hug, Eddie let himself fall into it.

Maybe it wasn’t going to be a song for him and Steve, but it could definitely be the start of something sweet.

[Yeah, I'm scouring the archives and trying to salvage as many headcanons as I can from my old deleted account, but let's just pretend this is brand new content.]

[foodiegoogie]

sweet night

james potter x gn!reader ✮ 1.5k summary: you teach james how to play guitar, but he learns something else entirely. cw/tags: no use of y/n, just fluff rly <3 also veeerryy lightly proofread + edited so rip. title is taken from the song, 'sweet night' by v of bts <3 (just the vibes, the oneshot's not rly based on it)

note: was cleaning up my drafts, and found this all dusty and worn :P i wrote this longggg long ago so plz excuse the cheesiness hahaha,, also this was totally NOT self-indulgent (what i wouldnt give to woo james with a guitar... sighs)

( ♡ )

Guitar, the stars, and James Potter.

Two things you cherished the most, and one person you cherished, and more. 

Sitting on the rooftop of your house, under the star-filled sky, you were currently teaching James how to play a certain song on guitar. He’d enlisted you to teach him under the impression that he was gonna use it to impress Lily Evans, and if he was feeling particularly brave – maybe even serenade her into finally becoming his girlfriend. 

It was a hard pill to swallow for you, of course, what with the feelings you’ve acquired for him over the years you’ve been friends with James. He was easy to love, and everybody knew that despite his tendency to cause trouble more often than not. Most especially, you—for loving James felt just as natural and innate as how breathing works for us, human beings; it comes with ease, and with no use for great effort to do so. 

But alas, you’re committed to being his best friend first, above all else. Unrequited feelings be damned. 

"No, James- it's C." You remarked with your face buried in your hands, making your voice sound muffled beneath them.

James groans, and throws his head back in theatrical fashion. "Why can't I get it right?" He complains, irritation laced in his voice. His eyebrows knit in frustration as he attempted to try and get the chord right again for another time. 

"Now, now, James,” You clap your hands a few times to grab his attention. “Let’s turn that frown upside down, yeah?" You try to comfort him with a smile of your own, tilting your head slightly as you regard him.

James continues to frown despite your efforts, but there’s a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, along with something else you can’t quite place. He looks at you like he’s waiting for you to say something (or do something) else about his petulant behavior. 

You sigh in exasperation, shaking your head, “Here, let me help you with that.” 

You reach over with your hands to literally pull his cheeks upward, forcing him to smile. Instead, the boy whines and tries to swat your hands away from his face, then he erupts into a fit of laughter.

James makes a strangled sort of noise, “Okay! Stop, stop!" He struggled to speak as you still had your hands on his face and he couldn't stop laughing. You were laughing along with him too, and it was music to his ears. 

(Music, the stars, and you.)

(Two things James was interested in, and someone he was more than interested in.) 

You finally pull away from his cheeks, watching them go red where you'd pinched them a little too hard. You continue to laugh as James did himself, although he was making failed attempts at making himself stop laughing, trying to school his expression into a neutral one. 

"Okay, okay, I think I'm done," James heaves as he tries to catch his breath, clutching his chest with his hand. "Let's get this over with, please."

You stifle a chuckle, afraid that you would both start another riot of uncontrollable laughter together, forgetting your supposed guitar lesson for him entirely (which didn’t really seem like a bad idea, if you thought about it). Mentally, you curse him for his infectious laughter for your own. 

Snapping out of your thoughts and bringing yourself back into the present, you signal him to start right from the beginning, watching him get serious and play the song perfectly.

You were nodding your head along to the song with your eyes closed, a soft smile on your face as a cool breeze brushes against your skin. Meanwhile, James continued to strum the strings of the guitar with a newfound sense of ease and grace, knowing the song by heart at this point in time. 

But as focused as James was on playing the guitar, he wasn't looking at it. 

He was looking at you.

In the soft glow of the moonlight, James couldn’t help but think that you looked absolutely breathtaking. Even more so as you lost yourself in the moment as you listened to him play the guitar. 

You looked so peaceful and angelic, James wished this moment would last forever.

But his train of thought was interrupted when you spoke up again. "Wow, you're getting good!" You commented, the corners of your lips curling upwards into a smile.

James suddenly remembered what he was doing and purposely slipped a finger, the tune sounding very off-key when he strummed again. You opened your eyes as your brows furrowed in confusion. You were greeted with the sight of your best friend scratching almost sheepishly behind his ear.

“…And now you're not." You continued, eyeing him suspiciously. You could have sworn you heard him get all the chords right, and play the instrument efficiently just to get it wrong with a string. You sighed and grabbed the guitar from him, earning a pout from James who was obviously acting. Though you were too busy to notice, trying to be a good teacher for him. 

You played the song for James, up until the part where he got it wrong. He looked at you with guilty eyes, starting to regret his little purposeful mistake since it was never a good sight to see you frustrated with him. It weighed heavy on James’ heart, and yet, he could never understand why. 

You looked down at the guitar, seeing your fingers formed in the shape of a chord that he’d manage to botch earlier. As James listened to you correcting his mistake, he couldn’t help but gaze at you in admiration and gratitude. You had always been so amazingly patient with him, and it made him feel weird (but in a good way, he thought). 

James takes the guitar back from you when you finish with a sigh of resignation. He resists the urge to chuckle in amusement.

"Well, maybe if you put my fingers where they're supposed to be, I'd get it right." He suggests, and you catch onto the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. 

You rub your chin in thought. "Well… I suppose it's not a bad idea." You mutter under your breath, rolling your eyes as you scoot closer to him. 

James could feel his heart skip a beat as soon as you held his hand ever so gently, guiding his fingers to which strings they should be pressed against, and to where they were supposed to be placed on the fretboard. His eyes kept darting between your hands holding his and your face, a fond smile stretched across his lips.

You look up to glance at James momentarily — your eyes never did seem to stray away from him for longer than a second — only to meet his eyes as soon as you did. You look away just as quickly as you had looked up at him. Simultaneously, you could feel the blood rush to your ears as your cheeks came alive with warmth.

"You know, staring is rude," You grumbled under your breath, still trying to place his fingers where they were supposed to be without getting confused as it was difficult to do so from your perspective.

"I'm not staring," James defended. 

You quirk an eyebrow at his tone. "Then what are you doing?"

It takes a moment of silence for him to ponder over his response. You think about risking another glance as the silence began to grow alongside your curiosity for it, until –

"I'm admiring," He answered quietly. 

You halt with your movements, looking up and meeting James’ eyes once more. The corners of his lips pull upwards into a fond smile, and you think it’s blinding even as you’re under the dark expanse of the night sky. 

James catches onto the dazed expression on your face as you continue to stare at him, wide eyes glimmering with surprise. 

“Hey,” He begins with an unmistakable hint of mischief in his tone, “Now you’re the one who’s staring,” He finishes, and you hear the familiar, teasing lilt in his voice. 

“Oh, shut up,” You command him, trying to school your expression into a neutral demeanor as you fought against the smile that threatened to come alive on your face. All the while, James is happy to oblige you, beaming at you with hearts for eyes. 

As the night wore on, and you continued to teach him guitar, James couldn't help but feel like he’s learned a lot more from you than just playing an instrument to impress a girl. 

And just like that, in the quiet of the night surrounded by you, James realizes that not only has he learned how to play the guitar, but also how he wasn’t just admiring you anymore at this point.

He was enamored.

( ♡ )

[quinnysnursery]

hihi, so happy to see you back!! missed you lots, congrats on graduating!!

i saw you had requests back open again, and i was wondering if you could do preferences for the caregivers with a very sensitive little who practically cries at everything, is painfully shy, and needs comfort and reassurance 24/7 :(

-🦕

[🪄] the cg's with a sensitive little! | preferences

including : matt, chris, nick, nate, tara, johnnie, jake, carrington, sam and colby

divider credit : @v6que

a/n : i KNOW i had one other preferences post and i literally searched my entire account and can't find it, so ig it's lost media now 😭

Matt :

🩹 provides the BEST comfort

🦈 "i know hun, that thunder was pretty scary, wasn't it?" "yeah :(" "that's alright, dada's here now."

🫧 knows all your triggers/unsafe foods 'n textures

🩹 and does BACKBENDS to avoid them

🦈 "don' want sandwich :(" "oh no! dada's having a sandwich, little one is having mac and cheese. sound good?" "c: yeah!"

🫧 painfully shy? no worries, so is matt. he understands 🫶

Chris :

🥤chris....is loud

💫 "bein' too loud" "wha? oh, sorry hun!"

🤍 however, he does make the best boxed mac 'n cheese

🥤shy little? no worries! chris talks enough for the both of you

💫 constantly wiping your tears with his hoodie sleeve

🤍 "will a lollipop make things better?" ":( yeah"

Nick :

🌟 will ALWAYS be down to sit at home on bad sensory days

🗞️ always coming up with creative ways to bring his little out of their shell

🎥 "if only someone here loved bluey...." ":O i love bluey!"

🌟 best reassurance ever, "y'know i don't mind taking care of you, right?"

🗞️ can always IMMEDIATELY recognize when you're about to cry

🎥 "shhh, dada's here. let it out, i know baby..."

Nate :

🏒 unlike nick, he can NOT tell when you're about to cry and is always caught off guard

🌨 "oh! oh honey...shh, don't cry"

⛸ always tries making you laugh as his first response

🏒 lets you wear his hoodies on extremely tough days

🌨 "is that helping?" "mhm :c smells like dada :c"

⛸ he's got the spirit

Tara :

❤️ tara, bless her heart, did not realize how sensitive you were at first

🎞️ "baby, i was only gone five minutes!" ":c i'm sorry!" "oh no honey...don't be sorry, mama's sorry, mama should've let you know i was leaving"

🎵 cuddles !! with !! sugar !!

❤️ painfully shy? that's not a problem at all! just like chris, tara talks enough for the both of you!

🎞️  always holding onto her babies hand or hugging them :(

🎵 "mama's got you sweet girl/boy/little one"

Johnnie :

🦇 johnnie is a bit nervous when he realizes just how sensitive you are

🌒 because he's petrified of being the reason you cry

🐈‍⬛ "do you need a hug?" "mhm :(" "okay princess/prince, c'mere"

🦇 plays guitar/sings songs for you when your having a really bad day/night

🌒 "hollyw'od!" "we've already done that one five times, sweetheart." ":c" "okay okay, hollywood it is."

🐈‍⬛ ends up learning your triggers and does his best to avoid them

Jake :

♣️ oh jake, sweet jake...

🍒 he never INTENDS to make you cry

♠️ but with his loud personality and constant bouncing around? yeah...it ususally ends with

♣️ ":( 'oo loud" "dada's sorry baby...i didn't realize i was being so loud"

🍒 loves cracking jokes to make you smile

♠️ "there's the pretty smile!"

Carrington :

🧸 the best at making you laugh while your sad/crying

🍬 also loves just cradling you in his arms while you sit on his lap

🎧 "dada's got you"

🧸 human teddy bear so, snuggles are a must

🍬 learns your nonverbal cues when you don't feel like talking

🎧 "do we want....mac and cheese?" ":c" 'okay...what about...grilled cheese?" "c:" "grilled cheese it is!"

Sam :

🎥 the most reassuring man ever

👻 "sorry i got scared :(" "oh sweetheart, you don't have to apologize. everyone gets scared sometimes!"

💛 constantly lending his little an article of clothing for comfort

🎥 the BEST at tending to boo-boos

👻 speaking for you when your feeling shy

💛 "they're feeling a little shy right now, what's up?"

Colby :

👻 this man...THIIIISS MAN

⛓ the most protective cg imo

🦴 "what's scaring you hun? do we need to go home? does dada need to fight a ghost?"

👻 lets you play with his rings/necklaces as a distraction

⛓ wrapping his arms around you and assuring you he's got you :(

🦴 "tell dada's whats going on?"

taglist !! :

@natedoeswife @blahbel668 @nicksloverrr @katw4shereee @pkfferoo @bambi-slxt @chr1sgirl4life @17twelch17 @pinksikhewei @yourenogoodforme @pkfferoo @babybatxxx @beesonhoneytoast @mattssturnz @mattsturniologf444 @graceslittlecorner @zivall @hrtz4alex2211 @bimbob1tch @cherry-red-heart @https--roman @frlinbruh @jazminepetit-homme

[awriterinthenight]

"You'll have to play something for me sometime"-Jess Mariano

words: 1301

warnings: none, but sorry I haven't posted in awhile, I was sick for a couple of days, but I'll be posting more this week. Also I haven't seen any rockstar!reader x Jess Mariano fics, so I decided to write one, if you like it maybe send a request and I'll write more. Also I gave reader a certain hairstyle just so it fit the story better, but you can ignore it if you want to.

summary: Lane's band is looking for a new guitarist, so reader joins them. After practice they head to Luke's where Jess meets reader, and is entranced by her.

"Hi, I heard you guys were looking for a guitarist, is that right?"

The guy with the long blonde hair looked up first, taking in the girl in front of him, but it was the Asian girl with glasses who spoke first, "Yes, we are, do you play?" she asked, excited to maybe finally have a full band again.

"No, I just carry a guitar around for fun," she quipped at the girl's question, "I'm joking, I do. I can play something for you guys if you want." she said, moving her guitar to open the case.

The guy who first looked at me nodded, "That would be awesome."

She set up her guitar, borrowing an amp from one of them. She played one of her favorite songs for them "Highway to Hell'. It was basic, but very good, and she was phenomenal at playing it.

She'd barely just finished, when she looked up and saw the three people in awe, "So, can I be part of the band, or..." she asked, trailing off for someone to finish the answer.

"Play like that every time and you'll basically be running the band," the guy said, shocked by how good her performance was.

"We can't wait to practice with you, are you free now. If you are, can we start practicing, and you can learn some of our songs? I'm Lane by the way," the girl with glasses said, extending her hand.

The other girl shook her hand, "I'm Y/N, nice to meet you, and I don't really have anything to do, so sure."

Lane got even more excited, and started grabbing some of their songs to show me, "These are just some of the ones we've almost perfected, and these are our covers," she said, handing Y/N music sheets.

She just nodded listening to the other girl before the other guy started speaking, "Not to intrude, but I'm Zach, guitarist, and this is Brian, our bass," he introduced before asking, "Can you sing?"

The new guitarist nodded, "I've done theater for about 6 years, so yeah I think so."

"Great, we've been meaning for someone who can sing to do vocals, so will you?" Lane asked.

"Of course," Y/N said, happy to be part of a band.

Lane couldn't keep in her excitement, "We have to teach you some of our songs, here's my favorite," she said, handing her the song.

"Cool, let's get started then."

***

After practicing for over 4 hours, everyone was tired, and in desperate need of food. So, Lane suggested they all go to Luke's.

"Luke's?" Y/N questioned, since she wasn't from Stars Hollow.

"You're not from Stars Hollow, are you?" Lane asked, feeling a bit confused on how she found out about the band if she wasn't from around her.

She shook her head, "No, I'm from Hartford. I actually go to school with your friend Rory at Chilton. She was talking about her friend having a band, and they needed a guitarist, and I've been playing for years, and looking to join a band, so I thought why not. Now here I am," the girl explained, rambling a bit.

"Well then, looks like we have to get you acquainted with the area," Lane said, putting her stuff away, as the four of them left the garage, "Luke's is the best diner ever, and I mean that."

Y/N nodded, "I'll have to take your word for it, until I get some of this amazing food," she said, having a playful tone.

***

Walking into Luke's, people stared a bit at the girl, since they'd never seen her before. She looked like every rockstar girl ever, in her David Bowie shirt, black ripped jeans, leather jacket, and combat boots. Which was a rare sight to see someone unique like her in their small town.

One of the first people to take notice of her, was Jess Mariano. It wasn't hard for him to notice her. Especially since she stood out with her half hot pink dyed hair in the back of her head. To him there was something interesting about her. It was from the way she dressed, to the bitch face she seemed to be wearing, to the way she carried herself, walking into that small dinner.

"What can I get for you guys?" he asked, starting to take the band's order.

"I'll take a burger and fries, Zack wants a soda and club sandwich, and Brian wants his usual," Lane said, ordering for the boys who took a seat at a free table.

"Alright, and for Ziggy Stardust over here, what can I get you?" he asked, making a reference to her David Bowie shirt.

She couldn't help the small smirk that graced her lips, "I think I prefer Lady Stardust, but I'll just have a burger and fries," she said, making another reference to a David Bowie song, "And a coffee."

He looked at her, slightly impressed, "Alright then, your food will be ready soon," he said, putting the ticket in before turning back to the girl who started walking towards her table.

"You're not from around here, are you?" he asked, stopping her, making her turn around.

She smirked again, which made him feel entranced by her for some reason, "What would ever give you that notion?" she teased.

Jess shrugged, "I've just never seen you around, that's why," he said, now leaning against the counter.

"Well I'm not," she said, taking in a breath, "I'm from Hartford actually. I go to school with a girl from here, Rory Gilmore. She was talking about how her friend had a band, and they needed a guitarist, so I joined them, and now they're showing me around town," she explained.

Jess listened to her story, intrigued by the fact she played guitar, "You play guitar?" he questioned, placing down one of the band's plates of food.

"Been playing since I was ten. I always wanted to be in a band, so this was a perfect opportunity," she said, shrugging as she grabbed her food.

Jess smiled at her, a rare sight to see from the boy, "You'll have to play something for me sometime, do you know any Metallica?" he asked, placing down the last plate for her to grab for her table.

She smiled again, something Jess never wanted to stop seeing, "That's like asking if I play guitar," she joked, heading to her table with their food.

Jess smirked as the girl walked away. He kept looking at her throughout her time there. It was almost impossible for him to take his eyes off of her. Her laugh filled the diner and he wanted to listen to it for the rest of his days.

She was just about to leave when he stopped her by the door, "Hey, what's your name?" he asked, "Calling you Ziggy Stardust is fun, but I think it would get old quick."

"Y/N," she said, about to head out the door with the rest of the band.

He smiled at her again, "Y/N," he repeated, liking the way it sounded, "I'm Jess," he said, still thinking of how pretty her name sounded.

"I know," she said, making him look slightly confused, "The nametag gives it away," she told him, flicking the name tag as she walked out the door.

Jess scoffed at her action, but was rather intrigued by the girl, and amused by her actions even more. It wouldn't be long till the entire town knew about Jess and the mystery girl from Hartford. The next day the entire town would be asking who she was, and what spell she put on Jess to make him so smiley around her, and how he seemed to have a soft spot for her. 

[basu-shokikita]

About Depths of Humanity

So, I talked about The Duel some time back and I thought, why not do the same for this song too? It's actually one of my underrated faves from Doomstar Requiem.

This more of a rant than a strict analysis though, I just really enjoy thinking about the implications of this song and what it means in regard to Skwisgaar.

Let's start with Ishnifus' warning. He claims that inside lies danger, the ghosts of their pasts and their fears. He cautions them to stay alert and Dethklok brave forward, even if scared.

Inside, they encounter their old manager, old groupies and Skwisgaar's old guitar teacher, in that order. As promised by Ishnifus', they're all people from their past, coming back to haunt them.

Immediately, these people start recriminating Dethklok for not having paid them back after how much they helped them. In short, they're jealous of Dethklok's fame and money.

The band is clearly affected by the plaints, quickly forgetting what they were here to do. Except Skwisgaar, who reminds them all they have to find clues about Toki's whereabouts. It does not seem like they're listening to him, though.

Now up to here, I want to point out 2 things:

That Nathan and Pickles seem the most upset by these confrontations.

That, while Skwisgaar is disturbed, he still has their goal in mind.

About Nathan and Pickles, I think it makes sense, they are the leaders of the band, they're most conscious of its tremendous success. They also know they're extremely talented musicians, meaning, they're aware of their value. They know they're far from being these miserable pricks demanding rewards. Nathan had a nurturing family while Pickles used to be in a huge band, previously to Dethklok. They're both people that have been inherently helped by other people, which is why being confronted is actually uncomfortable.

Skwisgaar is certainly a different case. I have to say, I was pretty surprised to find out that he had a guitar teacher. Based on the flashbacks in Fatherklok, I assumed he had been self taught. Skwisgaar himself has admitted he was pretty poor in his childhood so it's hard to believe Servetta would've invested in his music education. Plus, he can't read music which I think would be hardly the case if he had gotten classes.

But anyway, I'll play along. This teacher is speaking English and he doesn't make any mistakes so I'm guessing he's american. Meaning, Skwisgaar took classes when he went to America, which was later in his life. To strengthen his game and/or learn the technical bits he might have missed before? Maybe? And if this was the case, then Skwisgaar would've felt less obligated to indulge to other people in his life, when he learned to be independent from a really young age. He doesn't feel like he owes shit to other people, because other people didn't give him shit. Thus, the Depths of Humanity effect is not that strong in him.

You could also argue that the loss of Toki is a far more terrifying prospect than these bitter acquaintances from their past but I'll elaborate on that further in this post.

Murderface? Well, Murderface has low esteem and is the less popular member in the band, so of course he can't fall victim to guilt-tripping. Because that would mean acknowledging he feels like he's in a better place than others, it would mean that he actually believes himself superior than others. But he doesn't, Murderface is convinced he's worth nothing, so this whole charade is more grating than anything. Which brings us to the next moment.

The way Murderface is coaxed by the Depths of Humanity crew, is when a seemingly fan approaches him and starts praising him, claiming he's the best one. And then, is when Murderface is hypnotized by the attention. He's already such a negative person, of course more negativity isn't going to get to him. But positivism? That's another deal.

Skwisgaar once again insists that they have to find a clue on how to find Toki but it falls on deaf ears. Nathan is grabbing his head in despair while Pickles clutches his chest in what seems to be an impending panic attack.

Now I really like the wording 'I'll look if you do, too' from Skwisgaar. It almost feels like, even in this situation, he's trying to sound cool about it. He doesn't want to be the only one caring this much about Toki, he doesn't want to be the one leading this operation. He's not a leader, he's never been a leader, even less when it comes to emotional stuff, which is the implicit purpose of this search. They care about Toki, and that's why they're looking for him. But is Skwisgaar seems to be unconsciously rejecting this fact. This attachment.

However, his bandmates aren't listening, too self-absorbed in their anguish to do so. Skwisgaar continues the search and is quick to point out at something on the wall. It's a flyer that he grabs and, immediately, seems to connect the dots about. In an unusual display of leadership, he tells Nathan to grab Murderface so they can leave. Their purpose has been fulfilled and they can finally escape this horrid place.

Okay, so this is my favorite bit, obviously. Once they're outside, Nathan and Pickles keep complaining about what they were just subjected to, and Skwisgaar stops them to show his discovery. It's the same flyer he just grabbed, and it features the place where Toki had his audition. Also known as the place where they all met Toki for the first time and Skwisgaar and him had the legendary duel.

We don't have a precise Dethklok timeline but it's been a long time since Toki joined the band. Several years, at the very least. And this building is nothing but a far away memory, from when they were a lesser band. From when they weren't the big rockstars they are now. So, it really begs to question that not only did Skwisgaar remember the place, but he did so at once, when he hadn't seen or heard of it in years.

...Unless, he had been thinking about it recently?

We know, thanks to the beautiful central section of the movie, that Toki had been thinking of his audition, of joining Dethklok, as a means to cope with the devastating reality he was faced with. We know reminiscing of his dazzling battle with Skwisgaar and the happiness he found within the band gave Toki strength to carry on. But what about Skwisgaar?

For someone who considered himself much better than other guitarists, to the point he didn't want to play with another one, to actually find an equal, someone that challenged him, it couldn't have been anything short of extraordinary for Skwisgaar.

The summit is for the very best only, yet it's quite lonely too, and Skwisgaar had been basking in that isolation his whole life. Until he played with Toki, then the idea of sharing his field no longer felt like an insult, but potential instead. He found someone that could improve his own playing, someone that could compliment his guitar, take it to even higher heights.

And so, Skwisgaar was the one to invite Toki to the band, more specifically, to tell him he wanted him in the band. While we can't factually know how the rest of the members joined Dethklok, we know for sure that Skwisgaar was the sole responsible for making Toki join, as the rest were already bidding him farewell for failing to keep up with Skwisgaar.

So, when the one person that challenged Skwisgaar's playing was taken away, it wouldn't be a stretch for Skwisgaar to look back on how it all happened. To ponder about the circumstances that lead them to the current situation. It's clear the whole band loves Toki and, unable to deal with their own sadness, drank and fucked to oblivion. This also applies to Skwisgaar, except that with him it's especially complex, given that he's the one that brought Toki to his world to begin with. Given that Toki and Skwisgaar share the same instrument. (Fun fact: you don't actually see Skwisgaar fiddling with his guitar in Doomstar Requiem, just puttings dat out theres.)

Obviously, this is a bunch of mumbo-jumbo but as any Pepe-Silvia-scene impersonator that respects themselves, I want to point out how interesting of a coincidence it is that, less than 2 songs later, Skwisgaar is saying this:

Right before they head in to rescue Toki and Abigail, Skwisgaar imparts some reflection of his. He's been wondering if maybe it wouldn't be better to go back to being a one-guitar band. Toki has been in Dethklok for a long time now, so it's interesting Skwisgaar has been thinking about this...

...Except, that's exactly what his mentality used to be like, before meeting Toki. Right when he was trying to convince Pickles that they didn't need a rhythm guitar, he spoke these words exactly. One-guitar band.

It's almost like Skwisgaar is trying to do some self-preservation by returning to his aloof roots. He made Toki join the band, now Toki's gone and in danger, and maybe this wouldn't have happened if they had stuck with Skwisgaar's original plan. Because they attempted to replace Magnus is why this came to be. The revenge Magnus promised did arrive.

I just wanna be clear. I don't think Skwisgaar believes he's the sole to responsible for this, I'm sure he knows Magnus is the main perpetrator here. But the facts remain the facts, and had they all stayed as they were, then they wouldn't be risking their lives now to save their fifth member.

Like this, it seems entirely logical that Skwisgaar would be thinking of his former reluctance, of the Duel, of everything. It's all fresh in his mind once again, because Toki's kidnapping has forced him to realize they're not actually untouchable. Their mortality is back on the table, and so are their bonds.

In short, Skwisgaar had been repressing all his emotions about Toki's disappearance, but from the Depths of Humanity onward, he can't help but show them. He can't help but admit to himself and others, that he wants Toki back. So much, that a bunch of angry and entitled people can't affect him enough to forget it. So much that it's making him remember how distant he used to be, before Toki. So much that it's making him realize how different he is now.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Temporary Fix*

In which you meet a stranger at a bar, and he becomes your good night

Word Count: 3.3k of pure filth

Warnings: Smut, 18+ content, cursing, spanking, hair pulling, p in v sex(use of protection), aftercare

There he is again.

The devilishly handsome stranger, sitting at the bar two stools away from where you are seated.

He had been here every night you had been, and always looked at you from across the room, or gripped your waist on the dance floor when you were really drunk. But whenever you thought he would make a move, he disappeared.

Maybe tonight was the same too.

So, you decide to ignore him this time. You turned towards the dance floor, holding a classic gin martini in your hands, and stared at the sweaty bodies , moving rhythmically to the pulsating beat. The smooth notes of the gin martini matched the electrifying atmosphere.

Taking a few more sips, you got down and walked to the dance floor, and just then, an upbeat song started to play.

You saw one of your girlfriends there, and she pulled you with her to dance.

You had no idea how to dance. You did when you were drunk, somehow, but right now, the alcohol hadn’t kicked in.

Yet.

As you began to move, swirl your waist, awkward moves ensued, but hey, at least the enthusiasm was there.

A few moments later, you felt the oh-so-familiar hand gripping your waist, and before you could blink, the man had pulled you into him.

Your body collided with his, his grip on your waist tightening. Your mouth dropped open, eyes droopy as you looked up into his hazy emerald eyes.

They were dark, pupils blown out in lust.

Maybe today was the day.

You sneaked your arms from beside your body, and gripped his arms. His muscular biceps that looked so hot, and you immediately imagined him on top of you, his biceps bulging as he fucked you into oblivion.

You blinked your eyes rapidly to remove that image from your mind, and focused on his face.

You both stared into each other’s eyes as you moved to the beat. A few moments later, he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Y'look really hot tonight”

You smirk, before replying, “Thought you wouldn't notice.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” he offers, sliding his hands downwards towards your hips.

“Sure” you reply.

Soon enough, he’s leading you towards the bar. His hand on your waist, pulling you closer with each step.

You both reach the bar , the dim lights casting a warm glow on the polished counter. The faint hum of conversation and clinking glasses fills the air as you take a seat on the cushioned stools.

The bartender, approaches. "What can I get you two?" he asks with a knowing smile.

He turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. "What would you like?" he inquires, a subtle yet inviting grin playing on his lips.

As you ponder the menu, the atmosphere around you seems to buzz with anticipation

“A rum, neat”

“Same for me”

“Sure”

The bartender turns around, and begins to prepare the drink for you both.

“I’m Harry, by the way”

You smile, his name, laced with an accent, falling beautifully from his perfectly pink lips.

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Harry”

“Y/n. That’s a beautiful name. So, you from around here?”

“Nope, moved from California, about 6 months ago. Completed my degree, and then landed a job. How about you?”

“Oh, California? Wow, I guess you left the sun for... well, this place. Brave move! And a job? That's like, responsible and stuff. I'm just a regular dude, you know, not as fancy as someone who completed a whole degree. I’m a musician. Came from England.”

“England, huh? That's, um, across the ocean, right? So, like, you're pretty far from home. And a musician, you say? That's cool. I mean, I played the kazoo once in elementary school, does that count?”

He chuckled, making you blush. His dimples were on show, and he looked so pretty.

“Yeah, that’s actually a really uncommon instrument. It’s cool you learned it, though.”

“Yeah, I don’t really remember anything about that now. How about you? What do you play?”

“The big ol’ guitar. And a bit of a piano, that I learned recently.”

The bartender slides the drink on to you, and you both grab it, before continuing the conversation.

“That’s really impressive. So, where do you live?”

“I own my own Residence. A bungalow, if you will. I’ll be glad to show it to you sometime.”

You like where this is headed.

You take a sip of your drink, and it’s really good. Something strong. Exactly what you needed at a Friday night out.

He brings his glass up to his mouth, and that’s when you see his tattoo-a cross on the back of his hand, near the thumb.

“You-you have tattoos?”

“Mhm, many. Would you like to see them?”

You’re surprisingly intrigued. You stare down to his chest, and you could see he had two tats near his collarbones, both sides. Another one was on the middle of his chest, which was only partially visible due to his unbuttoned shirt.

You gulp down hard. Damn, was he hot.

“yeah…”

Your voice trails off, and you hear him keep the empty glass on the table. You look up at him, as he is sliding off his bar stool.

“So, where shall we go?”

“Oh…how about your place? You wanted to show me, right?”

He smirks, “Great idea. Can we get our check here, please?”

He pays for your drinks, before offering you his hand. You gladly hold it, and he leads you out of the bar, to find a taxi.

“Is it too far? I forgot my jacket!” you say, feeling the coldness of the night once you reached out. You rub your palms on your arms, hoping to get some warmth.

“No, just about a 15-minute ride. You cold?”

You stare up at him, and he starts taking off his jacket.

“Right. Here” he wraps it around you, and it instantly makes you feel at ease.

“Thanks, Harry”

“No problem, love”

As the taxi arrives, you both get in, and he gives the directions. The driver starts to drive, and you can't help but notice the subtle, intoxicating aroma that fills up the car. It's Harry's cologne and it smells so fucking amazing.

You gulp down, and turn towards him. Holding on to the backrest for stability, you grab the hem of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss.

It is unexpected, but he likes it. He immediately gives in, kissing you back with the same frevor.

Your lips are cold, but the kiss is hot.

You try to shift on the seat, and get on top of him. But, he pulls back and holds you back down.

“Hey, slow down, bunny. We’ll reach home and then I’m all yours”

He pulls your face back, uttering those words in your ear. You feel a bit embarrassed, but a kiss was definitely better than awkward silence during the whole drive.

“I know…it’s just, you’re so hot, Harry” you control yourself from releasing a moan at the end of your sentence, knowing that the driver was probably hearing everythong.

“I know, baby” he smirks, and pushes you back down on the seat, turning your face up front. You are about to frown and pout at that, but suddenly you feel his cold hands between your legs, pushing them apart.

You quickly turn your face, looking into his eyes with urgency. He stares back into yours, and gives you a questioning look. You realize he’s asking for permission, and you silently nod.

His hand spreads your thighs wider, the dress riding up. You pull out is jacket from your back, where it had fallen messily when you had jumped him. You put it over your thighs to cover yourself.

He reaches your panties, and gently pulls the crotch aside. You spread them wider, giving him more access, you are so desperate. His cold hand touches your clit, and you almost moan in pleasure.

“Shh” he whispers near your ear, before continuing the task in his hands.

His fingers find your clit, and he lightly grazes them on it. You swallow down a whimper, and pull your lower lip between your teeth.

His fingers travel downward, finding your labia and pussy lips. Without warning, he spreads them apart, and starts to rub your arousal throughout your folds. You close your thighs around his hand, and look up at him again. He gives you a look of warning, and you spread them open again.

His finger pushes in, feeling intrusion. He retracts it, and slowly starts to rub circles at your clit again. It makes you wetter, and makes it so much more hard to be completely quiet. He gradually increases his pace, feeling more arousal seeping through your folds. Spreading it all around, making a complete mess of your dress and thighs.

You throw your head back, and he pushes one finger in. It goes in with ease, and he starts to finger-fuck you.

You look down at his hands, his sleeves rolled up and prominent veins protruiding up. The said cross earlier is between your thighs, drenched in your wetness, making it more sinful.

You are getting close, the alcohol making your high approach faster. His long fnger hitting your g-spot, making your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your stomach starts to ache, the rush of the approaching orgasm coming faster and faster. You just need a bit more, a little push, just a little bit more and…

“We’re here”

He immediately retracts his hand, and you blink open your eyes, mouth falling open. You take a few moments to realize that you’re in the back of a taxi, and you need to get out soon.

The car comes to a halt, and you pull your dress back down. Pushing your legs closed together, your wet, drenched panties get rolled up messily, making it more uncomfortable.

With Harry’s jacket in your hands, you try to pull yourself out gracefully, but your legs are wobbly, and your cheeks are flushed red.

You look so fucked out.

You stand by the car as Harry pays him, and he leaves.

As soon as he leaves, he puts his left hand into his mouth, licking off the remnants of your arousal.

That bastard.

You hurry behind him, as he walks across the road and opens the gate. He unlocks it, and then another one. Almost 2 minutes, and you’re finally in.

As soon as the door is locked, you throw away the jacket, and climb up on him again. He catches you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He pulls your dress back up, grabbing the panties harshly and tearing them apart, and pulling them off from between your legs.

If you were not so desperate to get fucked, you would’ve fought him over them. But right now, you are desperate to get fucked by him.

He walks you to his living room, and to the sofa where he puts your down on the armrest. You both start making out again, tongues sliding messily into each other’s mouths. You can taste the rum in his mouth, and his intoxicating smell makes you whimper into his mouth.

“So desperate…” he remarks, and you grab his hair, getting his mouth back on yours.

A few moments later, you both pull back, desperate for some oxygen. Your hairs are disheveled, lipstick smudged. But to Harry, you look so beautiful.

“Y’gonna let me taste you? Have my tongue between those pretty thighs?”

On another day, you would. Spread open your legs and have him eat you out for hours. But right now, you just want to feel him inide you.

“No, I-I want to feel you, Harry. I wanna feel your cock inside me” you stare into his eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so damn hot. Where do you want to have me? Here? In my bedroom?”

“Here. Please?”

“Yeah? Want me to bend you over this couch and fuck that pretty little pussy of yours?”

“Yes, please?”

You look up at him with doe eyes, and he pulls you back down. Grabbing your waist, he quickly flips you over, and pushes you on the couch, so that you are nicely bent over in front of him. He spreads your legs using his, and your drenched pussy comes into view.

He unbuttons his pants, and quickly pulls them down, along with his boxers. He reaches the pocket for a condom, and tears the foil with his teeth.

Using one hand, he rolls it down on himself, and the other goes back between your thighs.

“Fuck, darling, you’re so wet”

He collects you wetness on his fingers, swiping his fingers between your folds. You push your head into the couch, his fingers diving deeper.

“So, so wet. Bet you drenched the car seat too, didn’t you? Dripping all over it. Bet the driver knew too. Your face was so red, cheeks blushed, lips bitten into your mouth. And your eyes, so full of lust and hunger.”

He pushed two fingers in, and started to finger you, while simultaneously stroking his cock. You moan out into the couch, grabbing into the backrest, anything to pull on. He pushes them to the hilt, and stills his movements, gently twisting them so you would feel his cold rings.

“Fuck. Jesus Chrust”

You whimper and moan, his fingers expertly fucking you back to an orgasm. Your legs clamp close around his hand, and you let out a wild shriek of his name, as you cum hard around his two digits.

“Fuck, fuck me”

Your breathing becomes ragged, and you turn your face, so that your cheek is on the sofa. After a few moments of letting you catch your breath, he speaks up.

“You okay, love?”

“Yeah, yes, I’m okay”

“Good. Want me to fuck you?”

“Yes. Yes, Harry please?”

He pulls out his fingers, and you whimper again, feeling empty. But that is gone soon, as you feel his cock line up with your swollen folds.

“Ready, love?”

You nod, and he finally pushes in.

You gasp loudly, his tip pushing its way in. His length follows, and you realize that he is a lot bigger than you had expected.

“Fuck, Harry-I-Fuck”

You curse into the couch, and he gently and slowly pushes his way into your tight cunt. You take in deep breaths, as you adjust to his massive girth spreading you open wide.

“Can I continue?” he asks.

“Yea-yes”

He pulls back, before gently pusing back in, till he is fully in. He repeats the same motion a few times, till you’re fully adjusted to his size.

Your mouth falls open, warm and heavy breaths passing through your mouth. He is going really slow, and it’s for your own good. But, you want it faster.

Harder.

“Harder, Harry-I-I want it harder”

He groans, before pushing back in, but with more fervor. A broken moan falls past your lips, and you gulp down, your mouth going dry.

“Is that good? Or you want it harder?”

“Harder”

“Oh, baby, you have no idea what you just asked for”

He pushes your legs wide, and grabs your hair, holding them in a makeshift ponytail for leverage to plunge himself inside you. You arch your back, and he pushes back in.

This time, there was nothing slow. He was going hard and fast from the beginning, making your legs shake and your eys to roll into the back of your head. You are impossibly wet, your wetness drenching his cock, making it easier to fuck you.

“Such a tight little pussy, fuck”

He curses, his cock fucking you into oblivion. His thrusts are rough and hard, making your toes curl. You feel his hand rest on your bum, and you want him to spank you.

“Har-Harry- I want you to-I-”

“What, baby? You want me to?”

“I want you to spank me-Harry-”

He quickly lifts his hand off, and strikes you with impact, making you moan filthy, and your pussy to clamp down on his cock.

“You liked that?”

“Mhm, yes, more please”

He spanks you again, and establishes a smooth rhythm of spanking you with each thrust inside your sopping wet cunt.

You feel so fucking good, on the cloud nine of pure pleasure. His cock fucking you so good and deep, one hand pulling your hair while the other spanks your bum red, you feel so fucking good.

“Harry-I'm close-” you mutter out, before falling back limp, your pussy clenching desperately around his length.

“I know. baby. Your pussy's getting tighter with each thrust. You gonna cum for me? Cum around my cock?”

“Yes, please, Har-”

You scream out his name, your eyes falling shut as you feel your orgasm take over. Black and white dots dancing behing your closed eyelids, a beautiful kadeidoscope of pleasure. Your legs begin to shake as his cock fucks you though your euphoric high.

After you're done cumming, he doesn't stop, chasing his own high.

“I'm close too, baby. Gonna cum inside this perfect cunt.”

He grabs your waist harshly thrusts, shallowing and slowing down as his orgasm approaches.

“Fuck, Mhm, Jesus-So fucking good, Christ-”

He rambles as his orgasm takes over, and you feel his warm cum inside your pussy, filling up the condom. Your tight cunt milks him off all he has, and he continues to fuck you till he is completely empty.

He stills inside, his cock throbbing and making you close your legs shut, wanting to keep him inside for longer. He catches his breath, gasping for air as he tries to pull out slowly.

“No, don't- I wanna feel you inside for longer”

You manage to say it in one breath, hoping he won't take you to be desperate and needy, even though it is what you were mere minutes ago.

“As you wish, darling” he stills back, holding you and pulling you back up. You both scoot awkwardly, and fall down on the sofa, you on top of him.

You could feel his chest on your back, rising and felling with each breath. You carefully turn around, keeping your legs on either side of his waist, and you face him.

He looks so beautiful, his post-orgasm face making you feel so warm and giddy. You lean down, and sweetly kiss him on his pink lips.

There’s comfortable silence between you two, the post-orgasmic glow taking over and making you feel so good and droopy.

“That was-really really good. Like, the best I've had in a long time.” you blush while admitting that, and he holds you close, making you feel safe.

“Glad you liked it. It was incredible for me too”

You both smile fondly, feeling so much connected in that moment.

“You okay? Want something to eat? Water?”

“Yeah, but afterwards. Wanna hold you for a while.”

“Sure, baby. You can hold me for as long as you like.” you grip your arms around him tightly, not wanting to let go.

>>>

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>>>

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[thefatedthoughtofyou]

The first time Steve touches the guitar Eddie makes a strangled sound in his throat. Steve freezes, looks at Eddie, his mouth is hanging open, and he's frowning. Steve sets the guitar back down, so fucking gently.

"Sorry. I just- sorry." He nearly whispers, stands back up, back straight, his palms moving over his thighs. Eddie clears his throat, shakes his head, removes his black guitar from his lap as he stands.

"No it's okay. I didn't mean to like... make that weird fucking sound. Just um... it was my moms." He says, his hand wrapped around the neck of the black guitar as he holds it at his side. Steve's eyes go wide.

"Shit. I'm sorry. I wouldn've-"

"It's okay really. Here. You can use this one." He holds the guitar out. Smiles when Steve steps closer, hesitant as he raises his hand. Eddie nods. Steve takes it, climbs onto Eddie's bed awkwardly and sets it in his lap. Watching as Eddie gently picks up his mothers guitar and sits back down.

Eddie smiles at Steve, strums a few notes.

"Do you play?" He asks, because Steve's never said anything about playing. Never touched one of Eddie's guitars before. But Eddie had noticed him watching, as Eddie plays, or writes songs, while they hang out.

Steve's at his house a lot these days. Eddie feels like they might be dancing around something. But he hasn't been brave enough to make a move. Or even ask a question. They just... spend time together. He's been teaching Steve about DND for Dustin’s upcoming birthday. Steve wants to surprise him. And he'd been letting Steve read his copies of Lord of the Rings. It's been taking him a while.

But he lays on Eddie's bed while he reads, feet kicked out in the air above him when he lays on his stomach, as Eddie plans his campaigns, or writes songs, and tries not to think about how Steve looks like he belongs there, in Eddie's bed, frowning down at Eddie's tattered books until he looks up and asks Eddie to explain something for him.

And Eddie does. Always.

But this is new. Steve holds Eddie's guitar in his lap, a soft smile on his face, his fingers holding the neck gently. He shakes his head at Eddie's question, just the smallest movement.

"Naw. I always wanted to learn. But my dad always said-" he cuts off, his eyes jumping to Eddie, his cheeks flushing a little. Eddie's never met Steve's father, but he's sure he could guess some of the things he'd said. Steve shakes his head again, tries to smile.

"I just never got around to it. And then things went to shit around here so..." he shrugs, moves his thumb over the strings. Eddie smiles at the sound.

"I like how it feels. Holding it though." Steve says, blinks up at Eddie. Eddie wills his mouth to work, to say something, to say fucking anything, but it doesn't. He just smiles, softly, and nods. Steve looks away, back down at the guitar, and Eddie does the same. Fingers moving over his mother's guitar as he tries to work out the next verse he's writing.

~°~

Two months later he still hasn't said anything. But they have a rhythm now. Eddie's at home, doing whatever it is he's doing that day. Planning, or drawing, or writing. Maybe even just watching tv. Steve shows up, goes to his room, gets the black guitar, and sits with it in his lap, some days until he leaves. And Eddie sits, and watches him, and tries to will himself to say something.

It's a friday. It's raining. And Steve gets off work early, comes to Eddie's. Like always.

He takes a shower, changes clothes, and then crawls into Eddie's bed, guitar settled in his lap. Eddie looks up from his notebook, watches Steve's brow furrow as he moves his fingers over the strings. Just positioning them, not making any sound. Turns out that's all it takes, Steve's little frown.

"I could teach you." Eddie blurts, Steve startles, just a bit, a small flinch before his eyes move to Eddie, brows raised.

"Ya know if you- if you'd want... that." Eddie's lame attempt to backpeddle falling out of his mouth in fragments. But Steve smiles, big and bright.

"Yeah? You'd do that?" He asks, his hand flat against the guitar now, he's practically cradling it to his chest, holding it to himself like it's something special.

Eddie shrugs, tries to play it cool.

"I mean yeah. It's not a big deal. Just, guitar. Kinda my thing." He huffs a laugh when Steve's smile grows impossibly bigger.

"Can we start now? Or are you- you're busy. Planning stuff." Steve voice drifts to a soft dismissive tone, like he's talking himself down. And Eddie hates it. Hates that he's been conditioned to talk himself down from his own excitement. Eddie slaps his notebook shut with a purpose. The noise loud in the quiet room.

"We can absolutely start now. C'mhere." He moves from his desk to the edge of the bed, reaches for his moms guitar, stops, thinks better of it and just settles his hands on his thighs as Steve shuffles to the edge of the bed to sit next to him.

Eddie watches him look at him, waiting, and so fucking close. He can hear the rain on the roof outside.

"Where do we start?" Steve asks, his hands flexing as Eddie watches him.

"I'm gonna teach you some notes. See how well you pick it up." Eddie says, trying hard to keep the smile on his face to a minimum. Steve nods, serious.

"What if I suck at it?" Steve asks, his fingers fluttering nervously over the strings. Eddie looks at him, narrows his eyes.

"You've never played before? At all?" He asks, head tilting. Steve shakes his slowly, his cheeks tinting as he looks at his knees.

"Well then, and I hate to break this to you sweetheart, but you're probably gonna suck. At least a little. At first." Eddie scrunches his nose, delights in the way Steve's mouth drops open as he looks Eddie.

"You gonna be able to handle that? Not being perfect?" Eddie twitches his head to the side, bumps his shoulder into Steve's, Steve rolls his eyes, bumps Eddie back.

"I'll do my best." He huffs, his brow furrowing again as Eddie begins to guide him.

He plays something small, shows Steve how he moves his fingers, and then lets Steve mimic him. He picks it up pretty quick. His ears and cheeks flushing a pretty red when Eddie complements him, tells him he's doing good.

It takes Steve about three hours to realize Eddie had been teaching him a DIO song. He rolls his eyes again, shoves Eddie off the edge of the bed, but goes red again when Eddie says he's proud of him for recognizing it at all.

~°~

A week later, Steve comes rushing into his room, guitar in hand. Eddie had let him take the black acoustic home, so he could practice there as well. He stops short, his legs bumping into Eddie's bed, and then he looks, shy.

"Well good morning to you too Harrington." Eddie sighs, yawns, stretches his hands above his head and smirks as Steve's eyes trail over his stomach, his shirt riding up off his hips.

"Yeah. Morning." Steve says, his voice distant, eyes still focused on Eddie's mid section.

"What can I do you for?" Eddie asks, smirk planted firmly on his lips now. Steve's body jerks, just a fraction, as he tears his eyes away from Eddie's hips, to look at his face.

"What?" He asks, sounding startled. Eddie laughs, shakes his head.

"Forget it. What's up? You looked excited." Eddie says with a shake of his head, pushing himself up in bed a bit. Steve's eyes move to the ground, his fingers tighten on the neck of the guitar.

"I just- wanted to show you something. But you like... just woke up. Did I wake you up?" Steve asks, his voice going high like he's just realized he may have woken Eddie up. Eddie shakes his head, rubs at his eyes, holds back another yawn.

"Whaaaat? No. I've been up for ages." He smiles, watches Steve's face drop.

"Really?" His eyes narrowing as they move over Eddie, pajamas still wrinkled, hair a fucking mess he's sure.

"Yep. Been awake for hours. I mean I woke up at like- what time is it?" He looks at the watch on his wrist, his eyes bugging out.

"It's 7am!?" His voice is high, incredulous, he sounds... maybe a little disgusted. Steve clears his throat, his free hand going to his hip as he looks down at Eddie. Eddie clears his own throat, crossing his arms, schools his face.

"I mean... it's 7am. Which I knew. Because I've been awake since like... 5 o'clock. So 7am is the perfect time. For you to show up here. In my trailer." He glances to the small window in the door outside his room, his face falling a bit.

"Before the sun has risen, even. How... wonderful." His voice is flat by the time he finishes speaking, and he can see Steve trying not to laugh at him.

"I'm sorry I woke you up." He says, and he sounds so sincere Eddie can't even really be mad. He will be taking a nap later though, for sure. He yawns, waves his hand.

"It's fine babe. Just show me whatcha got." He wiggles his fingers at the guitar and Steve flushes, nods, and steps back, sits himself in Eddie's desk chair, and moves the guitar into his lap.

Eddie's heart flutters as Steve starts playing. It always does. Ever since that first day when Steve had picked up the DIO rif he'd shown him. It had been small, but he'd looked so proud of himself when his fingers had danced across the strings perfectly, bringing the tune to life.

Eddie smiles when he recognizes the song, some Billy Joel number Steve was always humming. Eddie had actually been playing peices of it here and there recently, sometimes, without paying attention. But it reminded him of Steve, and so his fingers tended to play it when his mind began to drift.

He smiles as he watches Steve play, his hair falling in his face a little, his brows knitted together in concentration. Eddie bites his lip and refuses to think about moving his fingers over those furrowed brows. Refuses to think about how Steve might let him. Refuses to think about how soft Steve's skin might feel underneath his calloused fingers.

Steve's own fingers pick that moment to stumble, he misses notes, trips up, flushes deeply and curses himself, his head hanging as he stops, takes a deep breathe.

Eddie was proud, he'd gotten better at dealing with messing up. But he could tell he was upset.

"Steve." He says name gently, too genlty, maybe, for this quiet morning in the dark. Steve huffs, but looks up at him.

"I always fuck that part up. It's too fast." He sighs, his voice harsh, he's being hard on himself. And Eddie doesn't know if it's the early morning hour, or the fact that it's still quite dark in his room, or maybe it's the fact that he hadn't slept much and now Steve was in his room. But he scoots back, just a bit, and pats the bed, swinging his legs over the edge.

And his chest flutters again when Steve doesn't even hesitate to come and sit beside him. Doesn't flinch away when Eddie presses close, moves his arm around Steve, curls his fingers over his on the guitar.

He does feel Steve's breathe catch when Eddie sighs across his neck, but he keeps the smirk off his face. Instead he strums the guitar, moves his fingers quickly, hitting the notes that Steve missed with ease. And he almost laughs when Steve turns, his shoulder pressing into Eddie's chest as he gapes at him.

"How did you- you know how to play this song?" Steve asks, his eyes wide. Eddie shrugs, his eyes dropping to Steve's lips, he's so close.

"Parts of it. You hum it a lot." Eddie says, almost whispers between them. Steve's face does some strange movement, jumping between a smile and frown and back again.

"Wait, have you never even heard the song?" Steve asks, his voice accusing.

"I dunno. Maybe like once. It was on in your car that time right?" Eddie shrugs again, looks away from Steve, his cheeks heating in the dark, with Steve so close. And Eddie is still sleep warm, and he swears Steve keeps leaning back into his chest.

"You're not even sure if you've heard the song and you can just play it like that!?" Steve asks, his voice a little louder now. But there's an amused edge to it that Eddie can't shake.

"Yeah. I'm-" he stops, swallows, his palms are starting to sweat so he moves his hands away from Steve's, hears him make a small sound in his throat, and finally, looks back at Steve's face. His features have softened, his eyes still sparkling with amusement, but there's something else there too.

"You can just play things by ear like that?" Steve asks, his voice soft, he's looking at Eddie, really looking at him in the low light of Eddie's room. And Eddie's arms are still wrapped half around him, he swallows, and nods.

"Guess so. Never been great at actually reading music. I don't focus well." He scrunches his nose.

"No. You?" Steve teases, and Eddie feels any lingering insecurities wash away. He shrugs.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure I could teach you actually. And I might have you all messed up. But you're good. Real good." He says it softly, and feels, without a doubt, Steve lean back, pressing his back into Eddie's chest.

"I think you're a good teacher. Maybe a little impatient sometimes." Steve elbows him gently. Eddie flushes, his hand moving to Steve's shoulder.

"Shit was I? I was trying really hard not to be." He frowns, and then Steve is turning, letting the guitar slip slowly to the floor. Eddie gulps, Steve's face is so close, and he's so warm pressed against him. And Eddie might have a real issue here soon if Steve doesn't move out his space.

"No it wasn't bad. I- I kinda like you impatient. You get bossy." Steve laughs, a small, giddy sounding thing, light in his throat. Eddie feels like he might vibrate out of his skin. Steve's hands move to his shirt, resting against his chest.

"You uh- you like when I'm bossy?" Eddie asks, his voice shaking, his hands trembling at his sides, he's moved them away from Steve. Doesn't want him to feel him shaking. Steve nods, once.

"Kinda yeah. Is that bad?" Steve asks, his eyes squinting, nose scrunching. And he sounds like he might be genuinely asking, like Eddie has any fucking clue.

"I don't think so. I'm sure it's fine. I-" Eddie stammers, is about to keep talking, not sure what's gonna come out of his mouth if he does. But Steve beats him to it.

"Why did you offer to teach me to play?" Steve asks, his thumbs move over Eddie's chest gently. Eddie feels his entire body flushing. He doesn't wanna talk about this. Not with Steve. He doesn't wanna scare him away. But Steve is looking at him, soothing his fingers into Eddie's shirt like he knows Eddie feels like he might float away. Like he's trying to ground him. Eddie licks his lips, sinks his teeth into his bottom one, and frowns.

"You can say it. It's okay." Steve assures him, a soft whisper between them.

"I thought you wanted to learn." Eddie says, his voice weak, unsure. Steve nods, slowly, one hand moving up, his fingers gently moving over the hot skin of Eddie's neck. Eddie makes a small wounded sound in his throat, and he swears Steve's eyes darken.

"That all?" Steve asks, his thumb pressing into the rapid heartbeat in Eddie's throat. Eddie shakes his head.

"I wanted to be close to you. But I didn't think that you'd want that... like that. With me. So-" he cuts off, swallows again, his breathe catching in throat. Steve softens in front of him, melts impossibly closer.

"So you offered to teach me to play. And then you curled yourself around me. Touched me. Moved me around like clay in your hands." Steve whispers, pressing closer, and Eddie can't breathe. And he feels guilty, all of a sudden. It burns in his throat, choking him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have done that." He stammers, and he tries to pull away from Steve, weakly. But Steve is stronger, holds him in place, and moves closer, his lips pressing to Eddie's ear.

"Don't be sorry. I liked it. Liked the way you moved me, and touched me, and taught my hands how to move and make music. I liked you pressed against me Eddie." He moved back, smiling at the whine that escaped Eddie's throat.

"I like you. Is- is that okay?" Steve looks shy, somehow, as he says this. After he's set every nerve ending in Eddie's body alight. Eddie nods. His body trembling now.

"Can I kiss you?" Steve breathes between, his hands moving to Eddie's cheeks now, holding him gently, the way he always holds Eddie's guitar.

"Yeah." Eddie nods. Steve smiles. And then a jolt of fear runs through Eddie, his hands land on Steve's chest, harder than he means too, holding him back.

Steve's brow furrows.

"What is it?" He asks, and Eddie almost laughs in his face, he sounds so concerned. But Eddie clears his throat, his eyes falling to his lap.

"I don't know how." He says, his voice so quiet he's not sure Steve will hear him. But it's early morning, and his room is quiet as the sun rises, filling the room with a warm glow, and of course Steve hears him, Steve always hears him. His hands moves under Eddie's chin, lifts head til he's looking at him. And Eddie watches Steve watch him, watches the sweet crooked smile that tilts Steve lips, his breath hitching in his chest as Steve moves his thumb over Eddie's bottom lip.

"I could teach you." Steve says, echoing Eddie's offer from all those weeks ago, and Eddie feels weak. His body shaking as he nods, his mouth frozen. Steve pulls him closer, his hand moving down Eddie's neck again.

"What if I suck at it?" Eddie asks, a wobbly smile fluttering across his face as he echoes Steve, and opens the door for Steve to tell him he will. That he will suck at it, at first, like Eddie had told him. But Steve's eyes darken again, his tongue running along his bottom lip as he stares at Eddie's mouth. Eddie feels trapped, in the best possible way, trapped under Steve's gaze. Steve's head moves slowly, side to side, his eyes still locked on Eddie's lips, Eddie feels Steve's fingers curl into his shirt near his ribs as he pulls him a fraction closer.

"With a mouth like that? I don't think that's possible." He breathes, and Eddie nearly fucking swoons, his hands fisting in Steve's shirt on his chest. Steve smirks at him them, moves the hand near his ribs around Eddie's back, holds him tight.

"I bet you're a natural. And if you're not," Steve presses his lips to Eddie's nose, pulls back.

"I'm willing to teach you. You'll be perfect when I'm done with you." Steve whispers, like it's a secret. It makes Eddie shiver.

"I might be a slow learner?" Eddie asks, his voice shaking but he's teasing now, and Steve smirks again, his fingers curling up into Eddie's hair and pulling, tilting his head to the side.

"God I fucking hope so." Steve almost growls the words against Eddie's lips and then he's kissing him. And despite the growl, and the low dip of his voice, the kiss is sweet. And slow.

Steve moves his lips genlty, let's Eddie get a feel for it. And, to Eddie's relief, doesn't deepen the kiss. His body is so overwhelmed already, he's sure Steve's tongue in his mouth would just send him into a meltdown.

But Steve doesn't press. He just kisses Eddie. Slow. Moves his lips over Eddie's, hums into the kiss when Eddie moves his hand into Steve's hair, hesitant, his hand shaking. Steve's arm around him pulls him closer, until he's tugged Eddie into his lap.

Eddie whimpers as Steve holds him, does his best to kiss Steve back, moves his lips the way he feels Steve's moving against his. Steve pulls back first, his hands moving up Eddie’s back. Eddie frowns down at him.

"Was that okay?" He asks, his fingers drumming nervously against Steve's shoulders. Steve smiles up at him, kisses him again, and Eddie's not sure he'll ever be over that warm press of soft skin.

"It was perfect." Steve says, tucks a lock of Eddie's sleep disheveled hair behind his ear.

"You're good at that." Eddie says, his body shaking against Steve. Steve smiles, and then moves, quick, he flips them over, landing on top of Eddie, hovering over him, his hands planted near his head. Steve leans down, presses close.

"Thank you. So are you." He moves his fingers over Eddie's cheek, fingertips tracing the jagged scar there. Eddie's brow twitches, he tries not to frown. Steve dips, presses his lips to the scar.

"Wanna make a deal?" He asks, lifting back up to look at Eddie.

"Sure. What deal?" Eddie agrees, before he even knows what it is. Steve smiles.

"I'll keep kissing you later. If you-" he stops, looks unsure as he looks down at Eddie. So Eddie reaches up, cups Steve cheek, because he can now.

"If I what?" Eddie whispers.

"If you hold me while we go back to sleep." Steve sounds shy, after everything that just happened.

Eddie smiles up at him, moves his fingertips over Steve's lips now.

"I'll hold you whenever you want. Just don't ever stop kissing me." Eddie says, tugging Steve down on top of him, Steve laughs against his lips and then sighs, deep, and happy, as Eddie wraps his arms around him.

Steve cuddles closer, presses his face into Eddie's chest and just breathes. Eddie listens to his breathing until they both drift off, the sun finally pulling itself over the horizon, Eddie and Steve's shared guitar temporarily forgotten, resting on the floor.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Not So Humble Beginnings

Love You a Little Bit Series

Synopsis: Jack is captivated by a new country singer out of Nashville when he goes to one of her shows reluctantly. When the two of you meet, Jack finds out about your hesitations on getting to know him and tries to do his best in order to change your mind.

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Country Singer!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Jack sighed in frustration as he, Urban, and Clay finally got settled in their seats on the balcony of the venue to see some singer that Urban had been obsessed with lately and apparently he learned on the way over here that Clay was infatuated with her too. He didn't even know her name, but everyone had insisted that he get some fresh air and get out of the studio at least for a few hours despite his protests. He was quickly pulled out of his thoughts by Clay talking to him.

“Will you get that look off your face? You can relax for a few hours.”

“You and Urban wanted to come, not me. I have a deadline to meet and I seem to be the only one that cares.”

“Will your ass stop being so fucking dramatic? You might end up liking her music.” Urban added as he took a long sip of the Coke that he had gotten before walking upstairs to the balcony area.

“Who is performing anyway?” Jack asked as he rolled his eyes since he knew that there was no possible way that he could escape.

“Her name is Y/N Y/M/N, she's gotten really popular over the last year. You've probably heard one of her songs but didn't know it was her.” Clay answered as he noticed that the venue was starting to fill up.

Jack simply shrugged in response because the name didn't sound familiar to him and pulled out his phone to pass the time in the hopes that you would be coming on stage soon.

About thirty more minutes passed when the lights began to dim and cheers were erupting across the entire venue. Jack was taken aback when he noticed that Clay and Urban had joined in and simply shook his head at them. Smoke was lining the stage before you appeared and the screams got even louder.

“Nashville, it's been a while, but I promised that I would be back for you. How are we doing tonight?”

Once Jack had seen you for the first time, his eyes went wide and went even wider when you opened your mouth and began to sing.

“You got that

90 proof love when the bar shuts down

2am you're just drunk On the town

Got that lonely kickin in

Jack D got you lookin for a rewind

One more last time

Like the last time

Hittin up my phone

Sayin swearing that you miss me

You ain't been the same

Ever since you ain't with me

But I know You ain't here in the name of love

You're just here in the name of whiskey”

And you could play the guitar along with the piano.

The entire time that you performed, Jack was mesmerized and made it his mission to find everything out about you that he possibly could once the show was over. What he didn't expect was when you were singing your last song, “Buckle Bunny”, a person that he assumed was on your team came up to him on the balcony.

“Mr. Harlow, I'm Carmen, Ms. Y/L/N's assistant, Ms. Y/L/N is requesting that you meet her backstage once the show is over.” She politely said to him.

“Yeah, sure thing.” Jack answered nonchalantly, but nevertheless he was excited.

Once you got off the stage, Carmen handed you a water bottle that you took a generous swig from before she was eyeing you as she led the two of you down the hallway leading to your dressing room.

“What, you weirdo?” You asked her as she then took your guitar from you as the two of you were now in front of your dressing room door.

“You won't believe who came tonight!!” Carmen basically yelled at you, but then she got quiet and you were waiting for her to go on.

“Are you going to tell me or just stand there smiling?”

“JACK HARLOW!” Carmen exclaimed excitedly, but you just continued to look at her which immediately made her get a confused look on her face.

“Don't you like his music? I invited him backstage when the show was over so that the two of you could talk.”

“YOU WHAT!?” You replied while looking at her in disbelief.

“I found out where he was sitting and told him to come backstage! What's the problem? Having a connection like that could be huge for you.”

You took a deep sigh before responding to her and had to realize that she couldn't have known your dislike for him since you had never told her.

“He was rude to my best friend Rory and ever since then I was never able to look at him the same. She has a vendetta against him and since we're basically the same person, so do I.”

Your next thoughts were interrupted by security bringing Jack back along with two other people and Carmen quickly pinched you to tell you to fix your face.

Before Jack could say anything to you, one of the people who he was with quickly stepped in front of him and you learned that his name was Urban who come to find out was Jack's best friend and he simply told you how much he loved your music. While the other person who introduced himself you learned was Clay and Jack's younger brother. The resemblance was undeniable and soon it was Jack's turn.

“It's nice to meet you and I love your voice.” Was all he said before bringing you into a hug which you gladly accepted.

“Thank you so much and thank you for coming. I really appreciate it.” You replied when the two of you finally broke apart.

“These two said I could use a break from being in the studio all day so the credit goes to them for bringing me.”

“I'm happy that I was able to distract you for a little while. Do you usually record in Nashville?” You asked to make friendly conversation.

“As of lately. I've been spending a lot of my time here and back home in Louisville.”

“Oh, that's right. I forgot that's where you're from.”

“So you’re a fan I take it?”

By this time, Carmen had walked off and she said for you to fix your face, but not to lie to the man.

“At one point I was.” You answered being completely honest. By this time, everyone else was deep in their own conversations and no one was really paying the two of you any attention.

“Wait? What changed?” Jack asked while laughing because he thought you were joking with him.

“My best friend met you and you weren't the nicest towards her so seeing as me and her are the same person, that's what started it.”

Jack looked at you confused and didn't quite know what to say next as you were literally just staring at him with a tight lipped smile. He didn't get a chance to respond as Carmen interrupted making all of your attention go to her.

“Hey, more people are asking for you.”

“Okay. Jack, it was nice meeting you. If you're going to be around Nashville for a while maybe we'll run into each other.”

“Uh yeah, nice meeting you too.”

Jack didn't know how to feel about the conversation that had just taken place and he was at a loss as you walked away from him and was laughing at something Carmen had whispered to you. First thinking that you were joking and then confirming that you weren't by your continued explanation made a pit grow in the bottom of his stomach. He had quickly become a fan during your show and seeing you perform, but it was clear that you didn't want anything to do with him despite how polite you had been. He was pulled out of his thoughts by Urban telling him that he and Clay wanted to go to a restaurant down the street from the venue and Jack quickly agreed with the thought of you now being pushed to the back of his mind.

A few days later, Jack was back in the studio when he decided to take a breather and was making his way to the front of the building to exit it in order to get some fresh air. You had been on his mind heavily and he simply wanted to get another opportunity to speak with you in the hopes that the two of you could reconcile and start fresh without the incident concerning your best friend hanging over his head. He knew that he wasn't a mean or a rude person so this had truly been bothering him and he hated the fact that now that was your perception of him. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going as he was looking down at his phone and mistakenly bumped into someone.

“Oh, I'm sorry.” He heard a small voice say, and fate must have been on his side because when he looked down, he was staring at you.

“Y/N, uh hey. It's not your fault. I wasn't watching where I was going. You record here too?” He asked, trying to make conversation, but all you did was give him that same tight lipped smile.

“Yes, I always have since I started recording my music. I'm always in studio B. For some reason all the other ones don't do it the same for me.” You politely answered as you typed on your phone quickly to let Carmen know where you were. Of course you were late once again and she was currently yelling at you through a series of text messages.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Jack spoke up again, coming to the conclusion that he probably wasn't going to get very far with you. At least not today. This conversation felt like pulling teeth and last time he checked he wasn't a dentist.

“Well, I don't want to keep you, so….”

Jack didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before you immediately cut him off.

“See you around.” You quickly answered as you made your way down the hallway. Jack simply sighed as he watched you walk away, but at least he knew now where he could find you multiple days out of the week.

After that night at your show, Jack found out as much as he could about you which had him staying up at least until two that morning. He found out that you were an independent artist that was born in Louisville, grew up in Nashville and was now residing there. You were two years older than him and he found out that you were a pisces like he was. You had released a few EP's and had also released your album Buckle Bunny which had been at number one on the charts for weeks.

Once Jack made it back in the studio, all eyes were on him as he sat down and Clay asked him if he was ready to start back up again.

“I just ran into Y/N. Literally. Like I almost knocked her over.”

“Wait! She's here!?” Clay excitedly asked because he definitely wanted to work on a song with you if the opportunity presented itself.

“She's always in studio B apparently since that's her favorite one she told me and I've come to the conclusion that she also hates me.”

“Wait, what? How do you figure that?” Urban asked as he looked at him confused.

“Apparently I was rude to her friend when her friend had met me before even though I never remember being rude to any fan, but that's what did it. And now she and her best friend have a vendetta against me.”

“Oh.”

“I asked, so you must be a fan, then? Since she knew I was from Louisville and she then proceeded to say that she used to be and that had obviously taken me by surprise and then she goes and tells me why. I legit thought she was joking at first.”

“Damn. Jack messed things up before anything really got started.”

“She simply keeps things short and sweet. I want to fix this with her so hopefully she gives me the opportunity to do that.”

“Hmm, from the way that these two interactions went, I highly doubt it.”

The studio session came and went as Jack didn't stay for much longer since he knew that he was going to be back early the next morning. As he was laying down and drifting off to sleep, the wheels in Jack’s head started turning as he was trying to think of a way to ease the tension between the two of you. After about thirty minutes of trying to come up with an idea, it finally came to him.

The other night he had watched an interview of you that he had come across while scrolling through Instagram and you said that your favorite flowers happened to be sunflowers and roses and you liked how they looked when they ended up being combined together. Starting tomorrow he was going to leave a bouquet of flowers for you in the studio and write a note attached to it hoping that you would see it.

Meanwhile it was three in the morning and you were wide awake while on facetime with your best friend Rory who had just gotten back from New York and you had yet to tell her what happened between you and Jack. It had now been a few days and you figured that now was a good time to tell her.

“RoRo.”

“Oh goodness. You only use that tone when it's something serious so go ahead and spit it out.”

“Guess who came to one of my shows a few weeks ago?”

“Ohh was it Method Man!? He is GORGEOUS.”

“Rory, he has CHILDREN as old as you.” You exclaimed while rolling your eyes, but she just shrugged.

“I'm just trying to find where the point is in your statement… oh, that's right. There isn't one.” She answered as you saw her starting to unpack her suitcases. She always did right after she got back from a trip and you told her that she was a psychopath for doing it.

“You are so damn annoying, but it was your favorite rapper.”

“Me and Cardi got beef. We not talking right now. Have you seen those ticket prices for her tour? I'll be in the parking lot.”

“NOT HER!”

“Then who!?”

“Jack Harlow.”

Rory's entire expression changed as she rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth at your response.

“Don't nobody care about his big headed ass anymore.”

“He came backstage and I met him and we can thank Carmen for that one. Completely caught me off guard.”

“Hmm…. I hope he wasn't rude to you. And why would she set you up like that!?”

“And I told him about his little run in with you and how I used to be a fan until that happened.”

“Girl no the FUCK you didn't…” Rory exclaimed while pausing to look at you from unpacking.

“I think he thought that I was joking with him at first, but he changed his tune quickly after that.”

“I cannot believe you told him that to his face.”

“Well what else was I supposed to do? Lie? It's not like I was mean about it.” You asked and she was still looking at you dumbfounded.

“Well no, but a connection like that would do you some good in the music industry. You're just starting out and the last thing that you need to be doing is making enemies.”

“Umm, excuse me ma'am? Whose side are you on?” You asked while munching on your sour patch kids.

“Always yours! Don't be stupid but I don't know, maybe you should give him a chance.”

“What the? What the hell have you done with my best friend? Any other time he's brought up, you're ready to burn him at the stake!”

“I'm still here! But I mean truth be told that was so long ago. I do still have a vendetta against him, but to be honest it wasn't totally his fault. Soooo, you could probably let him off the hook.”

“Rory…… I basically just told this man to fuck off and now you're trying to tell me it was a misunderstanding!?”

“I… well…. It wasn't really him, but more so who he was with. His manager, Neelam.”

“RORY WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THE ENTIRE STORY!?!? NOT YOU MAKING ME HATE THIS MAN ALL FOR IT NOT TO BE HIS FAULT!”

“I'M SORRY! MAYBE YOU TWO CAN START FRESH!”

“Fuck! Rory! Now he probably thinks I hate him!”

“We can fix this!”

“No, Ro. You are staying as far away from this situation as possible. We do record at the same studio so maybe I'll run into him again.”

“Ask him out on a date!”

“WHAT!? NO! I don't even know if he likes me like that and he probably doesn't, considering how I interacted with him.”

“You never know though. I think you should go for it.”

“It seems like every time I listen to you, I find myself in a bigger mess than before.”

“I'm getting better!”

All you did was give her the side eye as you continued to eat your sour patch kids.

Over the course of the next few weeks, every single Friday, there would be a bouquet of flowers waiting for you at the studio before you would start your session and you had no idea where they had been coming from or who had placed them there.

Obviously they knew you well since it was always a combination of your favorite flowers which were sunflowers and roses. Carmen came to the conclusion that you had a secret admirer and you just shook your head at her, but you definitely wanted to know who this person was. Surprisingly you hadn't crossed paths with Jack even though you had been hoping that you would. But you figured that when the time was right, it would happen. You wanted to make amends and hopefully get to know him, if he still wanted to that is.

It was close to four in the morning and everyone had already left when you found yourself gathering all your belongings so that you could head home. Once you made sure that you had everything, including your newest bouquet of flowers, you started walking towards the front of the building.

Once in the parking lot, you realized that your car was parked next to Jack’s, as he was leaning on it and typing quickly on his phone. You walked up to him and waited for him to notice you. When he didn't, you simply tapped him on the arm.

“Hey. Haven't seen you for a while.”

“Oh, hey. Yeah, it's been a minute. I've been doing some appearances here and there between being here so I guess we've been missing each other.” Jack said as he now gave you his full attention and placed his phone in his pocket.

“You usually leave this late?” He asked and you immediately shook your head no.

“No, but I had a few more things that I wanted to work on before I left so I stayed a little while longer. I could ask you the same thing.”

“I couldn't sleep, so I came for about two hours. I'm about to head out now.” Jack answered as he was looking at you holding the bouquet of flowers and hoping that you would mention the notes that he had been leaving for you.

“Um, I'm not tired and there's a 24 hour diner not too far away from here. Want to get breakfast with me?” You asked as you looked up at him hopefully.

Meanwhile Jack's heart rate had increased and he couldn't believe what was happening.

“I just feel like I didn't really give us a chance to be friends and I want to change that and get to know you for myself. If you want to, of course.” You added as Jack still hadn't said anything.

He simply unlocked his car and opened the passenger side door for you.

“Clay and Urban are going to be so jealous.” He said before laughing and helping you into his Jeep as you smiled at him.

[ghostfanwriter]

🎀🧰 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐭 𝟖 🧰🎀

←Previous

🎀 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:

[toskarin]

how did you get started making music, tools-wise?

I've talked about this a bit before and I don't necessarily recommend doing this, so skip the following two paragraphs and go right to the one under the break if you actually want the method I recommend

I lied to a girl I liked from my school and told her that, because I could play guitar I could also play piano, so I could teach her to play piano. both of these statements were lies.

I had to panic and learn both guitar and piano one week ahead of the lessons I was giving her as an excuse to hang out. so I self-taught in a haze of panic and "maybe she'll like me" (she did not) (but she kind of did) (but she was bicurious) (but she was wishy-washy on if she wanted to get together and her parents didn't like me) (and her parents were homophobic) (I think she might have texted me at one point years down the line to tell me she had a girlfriend but it was after I deleted our text history and I'm chronically unable to remember to put people's names into my contacts so who knows)

but that's all an aside. that's a bad method.

anyway if you want to start making music in earnest, doing what I did when I got serious about making songs instead of trying to impress girls whose parents wanted to destroy me with their minds here's a better answer

go acquire FL Studio. it's apparently really easy to do this because people have been acquiring it for years, or so I've heard. FL is good for learning because you've got 20 years worth of free tutorials available to you on youtube to dig through and plenty of stock vsts to play with out of the box

FL Studio is, realistically, the only tool you actually need to start making music. you could get away with less, but it's what I used, and as long as you don't pick up Specific Bad Habits, your experience with it will transfer to other DAWs if you decide to switch it later

that's all, really

if you go this route, the golden rule I'm going to impart on you right now is that you need to have a limiter on your songs. the default FL studio song templates have one, so you should keep it until you know enough to know why you might adjust something like that

it doesn't matter if it sounds fine in the editor without a limiter. everyone thinks it's not a big deal at the time, but as you get more experienced, there's literally nothing short of getting in legal trouble that you'll regret more than realising that your old work is almost entirely unsalvageable because you didn't put a limiter on it and now half of the audio is just lost data to clipping

I'm gonna put a few more recommendations for things I've used, just so you can consider them if you need something else to chew on. everything past this point is entirely optional and you'll do just fine with FL Studio alone. in fact, probably don't worry about everything below the line

-=-

items marked with [F] are free.

DIGITAL AUDIO WORKSTATIONS THAT AREN'T FL

for tracker-based editing and chiptunes, use Renoise. you'll either love or hate trackers, and while they have a steeper learning curve than piano roll DAWs, they might come more naturally to you. I personally think that Renoise is a lot of fun to use. it kinda has an "addictive" quality to it, as funny as that is to say

for quickly sketching songs, use [F]Jummbox. it's an html workstation (multiplatform!) that writes your sketches to a url, meaning it's pretty easy to collaborate on musical sketches. Jummbox is good for making chiptune style instrumentals, but what makes it especially accessible is the fact that it works on a piano roll system, which will be familiar to you if you're working in FL

for writing sheet music, I recommend starting with [F]Musescore. I'll warn you right now that there aren't really any good notation editors and you're making lesser-of-evils decisions when you pick any of them, but it's probably the best compromise out there right now. it's the one I use when I need to hand something to a physical musician. you can also export pieces as midi, although there's better ways to do that lol

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VSTs

if you can acquire Pianoteq, do that. if you feel uncomfortable with acquiring it, [F]Keyzone Classic is free and can sound pretty nice with a bit of work, but you really have to learn to work with it

if your workstation can handle it performance-wise, go pick up [F]Vital - Spectral Warping Wavetable Synth. there's tons of free presets for this out there and it sounds good. cool synth. Serum: Advanced Wavetable Synthesizer is also good and has plenty of presets, but it's on the pricy side, so consider how comfortable you are with [finding a friend to buy it for you]

[F]Decent Sampler doesn't do much out of the box, because it's just a tool for playing sample banks, but if you go to [F]Pianobook, you can find tons of weird and fun sample packs of just about everything you can imagine. sounds derived from folk instruments, industrial equipment, lego sets, stylophones, choirs, whatever. incredibly useful.

Valhalla VintageVerb. this is the reverb plugin. you want this one. [F]Valhalla Super Massive is also good but it's more focused on alien-sounding reverb effects and enormous spaces, so it's kind of got a niche use case and you should be a little careful with it

if you've heard a lo-fi hip hop song on youtube, it probably used [F]iZotope Vinyl. this one can save you a lot of time if you're going for that sound because it comes with all the little vinyl flourishes outside of compression (like dust crackling) that you'd otherwise have to add yourself

[F]Genny VST is advertised as giving a genesis/megadrive sound, but what actually makes it shine is that it's an actual synth emulating the YM2612 and SN76489 sound chips. this means you can create your own sounds that work within those specs, which is a lot of fun! definitely beats just using samples, if you ask me

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HARSH VSTS THAT I PERSONALLY LIKE BUT WHICH ALSO MIGHT !!HURT!! YOU. SO BE VERY CAREFUL USING THESE.

[F]Tritik Krush is a bitcrushing plugin. it does a good job of bitcrushing and downsampling. I use it a lot in my songs, but you've really gotta know how to keep this one under control, because it's fully capable of making painful sounds on accident and can completely devour your mix

[F]FSA Latcher is a gorgeous noisebox. it screams in horrible ways and makes dying machine noises in various colours. this is the musical equivalent of working with radioactive material, so be extremely careful using this in anything you don't want to hurt the listener's ears

girlfriend just told me I have to recommend [F]Noise Engineering Ruina to you if I'm making a category with this heading. I don't personally use it, but she likes it (she's better at music than I am) and it's free, so you should go pick it up. "it annihilates sounds very deliciously" (maybe I should use it)

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hope that helps a bit!

[mirrow-hamato]

Oh guys sheeeshh I'm going to have Brozone!Fell AU (aka underfell if you know what i mean). In this au they living together in bunker. A hard core au, where trolls barely escaped from Bergens. Most of them just died.

Some random headcanons of those badasses:

John Dory:

Definitely smoking and a lot. Drinking energetics. Being selfish, but have no self-care. He's ready to yell at everyone when something goes not the way he wants to. Swears. But actually really trying resist swearing in front of Floyd (look at Floyd headcanons) or Bitty B. He usually trying to command Spruce and Clay as two second oldest brothers. He definitely has resistance against Clays pranks. He likes annoying him with surprising hugs or turning Clays prank against himself.

Spruce/Bruce:

Mostly care about how he looks like. He have a lot of experience of talking to ladies, he's a heartbreaker. He really hates when John starts telling him what to do, especially if he having conversation with his ladies. John was so annoying towards him that he starts hate most of food. (Especially salads.) Sometimes it could coming that he didn't eat anything for whole day. But he doesn't starve himself, he eats anything and everything he wants to (as long as John doesn't sees). Will not let John take care of Bitty B.

Clay:

This middle child jerk will make your life a living hell. He will find any ways of annoy you with his evil pranks. He even likes doing pranks when he sees that you have a bad day.

As it probably was expected, he's actually the most traumatised one. He often has bruises on his body cuz of troubles he getting into. (Spruce actually making sure this jerk won't get into another trouble, but usually fails. So he helps him with his wounds and bruises) He terrible hates John and will take any opportunity to tell him that in face or prank him as hard as he can. Terrible hates when John hugs him it's pisses him off.

When he's finally alone in his room, he takes a chance to read some books, the only thing that always makes him relaxed and kind of happy. (Sometimes it's Floyd and Branch.)

Floyd:

He's a very rude but emotionless guy. He just doesn't care about anything that is happening around him. And never cared until he hold Branch in his arms for first time. His little brother was the only thing that melted his heart and he changed just a bit.

Now he's just a rude guy who have no clue how to show support or that he's worried. He would just yell at you aggressively. Or for example he would punch John in stomach as soon as he sees him smoking or hearing his swearing.

He terribly hates knowing that Spruce haven't eaten in full day and he would just yell at him for it too. He and Spruce are only brothers tht actually cooking something that is not just "eatable" but tasty. They do cooking together, but always argue, so it's happening very rarely.

Surprisingly respects some of Clays motives. He still hates his pranks, amd find him annoying time to time. But Floyd is the one who can talk to Clay seriously about just random stuff. In very rare times, they going on library together to get some new books to read.

Floyd is usually playing a guitar in his room and came up with random songs. It's sounds more rock way, but it's still have some pop in it. In other spare time he's journalling or taking care of his only truly beloved little brother.

Bitty B/Branch( to 6 years old)

As a small little child each of brothers started loving him a lot. He was different, kind, loving and always happy.

His favourite brother? Floyd of course. But he wouldn't tell you that, to not hurt any other brothers feeling.

When he grows up to 6 y.o. he finally started spending more time with his brothers and understands what's going on around.

With John they are rock climbing. He likes his little pet Rhonda and plays with her very often. (John Dory actually trying to hide that he smoking in front of Branch.)

With Spruce they learning cooking. Sometimes Branch is just here to support his brother while he's training. They both secretly eating stuff they shouldn't while John doesn't looking. Spruce like taking him on his dates, cuz ladies really like little pure child. But he doesn't do that much often, in case those girls learn him something bad.

Branch and Clay together are kings of pranks. Clay is being extra careful when they pranking together, so Branch would not get in any troubles. He's the one who secretly reads him fairytales. If Clay making any pranks on Branch, those are absolutely harmless and actually just silly and funny.

Floyd sends much of time with Branch. They dancing, singing and just walking together. He singing him a lullabies and helps him learning about the world they living in. He keeps ALL the drawings Branch ever made for him.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve sniffled as he cleaned off Eddie's gravestone once again. The town had been saved, the crack closed, and somehow Vecna had been defeated. No one really knew what happened. Only that a mysterious figure with wings had saved their asses. El was still trying to find them, but they were hiding themselves pretty well. Hopper believed he slunk back into the Upside Down before it closed, but no one else believed that, especially Dustin. He didn't say it outloud, but he knew the kid believed that it had somehow been Eddie. Steve didn't want to discourage him or get his hopes up. He didn't know what to do.

All he could do now was to keep cleaning Eddie's headstone. Edward Munson: Now At Peace. Yeah, right. People keep spray painting "burn in hell" across the headstone. He didn't deserve this. . . Even in death, they were still fucking with him. Steve let out a strangled yell and threw the rag.

"It's not fucking fair!" Steve snapped.

Steve breathed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. He stared at the headstone and did some breathing exercises to help calm him down. Now would be the perfect time to tell him everything, at least, Robin said it would help.

"I never got to really know you, man," Steve said. "And I really wish that I did, though. I wish I could see you play that guitar even at the Hideout. . .to see you up on that stage. I kind of wanted to see you graduate, too. I would have loved to see you give Higgins the finger. I always hated that guy. Fucking asshole. I would have loved to see you DM up on your throne. I'm not sure I would be able to play, I honestly would have gotten distracted. I wish I knew more than that, though. Like, what's your favorite song? Your favorite movie? Your favorite color, man? I don't know. . .anything. I wish you were here to tell me. I just wish. . ."

He stood there for a moment as though he were expecting an answer. Steve sighed and ran his hand through his hair. He went to reach for the rag, but someone beat him to it. A man with a hat over his head and sunglasses on his face was kneeling in front of Eddie's grave. Steve had no clue who it was.

"Let me help, son," the man said in a deep southern accent.

Steve had been spending enough time with Wayne and Dustin to realize that this man sounded an awful lot like Wayne with his accent. He knew it wasn't Wayne, though, because this man was too young and he knew that Wayne was working.

"You didn't do this, did you?" Steve asked.

"I just want to help, boy," the man said. "A handsome man like Eddie Munson doesn't deserve this. Although, I guess you could say he is hot as hell."

"That's a weird thing to say about a dead guy," Steve said, scrunching up his nose. "Did you know him?"

"You could say that. You could also say that I knew him a little too well," he said. "I kind of overheard your speech there, son. I can answer some of those questions for you, ya know?"

"I - would like that," Steve said softly as he grabbed the extra rag and knelt down to clean up the headstone.

"Well, most people would think differently about his favorite song. He loved the song Rolling Stone by Muddy Waters. His mama would teach him how to dance to that song. Sometimes, she would place him on her feet. He loves red, but he also loves the color blue," the man said. "He loves Conan the Barbarian. He used to sneak into the theater with his best friend, Ronnie."

"Ronnie?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, she was the first friend he ever made, and she was never more than his best friend despite him making an embarrassing move on her," he chuckled.

"That sounds familiar," Steve laughed. "He told you all this?"

"In a way," he said. "Ronnie showed him the way into leading lost sheep. His uncle gave him the kick in the ass he needed into not giving a fuck what other people thought of him. He still had some learning to do. He was kind of queer in the head, though, despite all of that."

"What? Who cares what he was into?" Steve scoffed. "Are you seriously judging him on that? I'm queer in the head myself."

"Wait, hold on, son. I ain't judging him for that, and you do know that queer also means weird, right?" The man asked.

"Yeah. . .I mean, I forgot," Steve stuttered.

"Should I just forget that you came out to a complete stranger, son? Doesn't matter, I didn't have a problem with Eddie being like that," he said, and then he dropped the accent. "I can't believe you did that!"

He dropped the hat and the sunglasses, slapping his knees as he stood up. Steve gaped up at him. His hair was cut short, but he would recognize those dimples anywhere. He was grinning wildly down at Steve.

"Eddie?!" Steve choked and he stood up.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie said.

It was the first time he had called him that, and it made his stomach flutter. His brain tried so hard to comprehend that it was Eddie, but he looked so drastically different without his hair that he couldn't really focus. He noticed that he was also wearing a hoodie and a polo that looked awfully familiar.

"Hey, that's my polo," Steve said.

"Yeah, I broke into your house," Eddie said. "I wanted to look the least like myself."

"Why?" Steve asked.

"So, that people won't try to murder me, Steven," Eddie said.

"No, I mean, I get that. Why the deception?" He asked.

"Hi, I'm Eddie Munson. I like to be dramatic," he said, and he held out his hand. "Go ahead, take it."

Steve wrapped his hand around Eddie's like he was shaking his hand. His skin was cool to the touch, and Steve couldn't help but stare at it.

"You're real," he whispered.

"Very," he grinned.

"Why is your hand so cold?" Steve asked.

"I'm vampire now so. . . ," Eddie said, shaking his head from side to side.

"You were the mysterious figure that destroyed Vecna," Steve said in realization.

"He tried to make me his little bitch. Wanted me to do all his dirty work and kill of you," Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. "No thanks. I can't even clean my room when my uncle asks, and I love the man. Do you think I'm going to kill people I care about for someone I hate? Yeah, no."

"You saved us. You saved this town despite the fact that they hate you for no goddamn reason," Steve said.

"Well, my dad conned half the town, so yeah," Eddie shrugged, and then his eyes lit up. "Oh, I saved Higgins! You should have seen the egg on his face. He does know I'm alive, but he probably feels guilty about blackmailing me into dropping out in '84 now."

"He did what?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, crazy story. I should tell you all about it over dinner," Eddie said.

"That was smooth," Steve smirked.

Eddie ran his hand over the vest Steve was wearing and smirked.

"My vest looks good on top of a polo," Eddie said and paused, looking at him softly. "I'm not going to waste my chance this time. Hey, Steve?"

Suddenly, Steve was brought back to the Upside Down, and Eddie had looked at him with meaningful eyes before they parted ways. The memory was soon gone.

"Yeah?"

Eddie grabbed him by the vest and pulled him in, crashing their lips together. Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him in closer as he deepened the kiss as Steve gripped his hips. Eddie broke the kiss, allowing Steve to breathe.

"We're kissing over your grave," Steve said.

"Better than walking over it," Eddie cackled.

Steve suddenly began pushing him backward until Eddie's back hit the tree that was next to his grave. He pressed his body up against Eddie's and covered his mouth with his own. He really should care that he was making out in a cemetery, but all he was aware of was Eddie. Eddie's mouth against his, Eddie's tongue making its way back in, and Eddie's hands quickly pulling his polo out of his pants so his hands could press themselves against his skin. All that mattered was how alive Eddie was and how much Steve could feel it. It was like all the lights were turning on inside of him, and it was Eddie that was flipping them on. Steve quickly broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against his, breathing heavily.

"We better stop before we do something else in cemetery that we're not supposed to," Steve said.

"Probably a good idea," Eddie said. "I think we just gave a granny quite a shock."

Steve looked over his shoulder and saw an older woman standing a few yards away, looking appalled.

"My God. She's literally clutching her pearls," Steve said.

"What do you think it is? That we're two men or that we're making out in a graveyard?" Eddie asked.

"Young man, my hearing is just fine! I don't care if you two have dicks! I mind that you two are fooling around in the place where the dead sleep!" She scowled.

Eddie and Steve looked at her in shock for a moment.

"I was not expecting her to say that," Steve said with wide eyes.

"Who would?" Eddie asked and glanced at the old woman. "Alright, time to adopt a grandmother."

"No, Eddie, we have to tell everyone you're alive, especially Wayne and Dustin," Steve said.

"Right. . .Dustin. Shit, I died in front of him. I know this is a stupid question, but how is he?" Eddie winced.

"Devestated but also hopeful that the mysterious figure who saved us all was you," Steve said and took Eddie's hand. "Let's get you home."

They laced their fingers together and walked out of the cemetery, apologizing to the granny as they left. They didn't care if anyone saw them, but after the town nearly went apocalyptic, how could anything else matter? The only thing that mattered was that they were both very much alive.

[korn-official]

JONATHAN DAVIS INTERVIEW FOR PIT MAGAZINE (date unknown but guessing ‘95 or ‘96)

“I had no idea that people would relate to me so much.”

**

Korn came together in 1993, in Huntington Beach, California. Now, their Epic/Immortal self-titled debut is winning critical acclaim from the music community. Dark, intense lyrics front this hard-hitting sound. The band is comprised of Jonathan (vox, bagpipes), Fieldy (bass), Brian (guitar), James 'Munk' (guitar), and David (drums).

Be sure to eat your vegatables, son.

Pit: Tell me about the bagpipes - how did you come up with that? Are you of Scottish descent?

Jonathan: I went to a high school that had a pipe band. I started taking lessons at school; then I took private lessons and started competing. I always wanted to learn how to play that instrument, but I never thought I'd play it in a band. Then we wrote this song and thought we'd try it; it just worked.

Pit: How did the band come into being?

Jon: Munk, Fieldy and David had been playing in a band for like the last ten years, and then Brian got in the band. The singer didn't work out. They saw me in Bakersfield, where we all grew up, and asked me to try out. We just clicked. We wrote three songs our first practice. That's how Korn started; two months later we were signed. And here we are.

Pit: You're from Bakersfield, California. What kind of childhood did you have?

Jon: The normal hell-childhood. It's like out of a Stephen King novel - it's crazy. Nothing to do... Only thing I did was study music, because my dad owned a music store. So I took a lot of lessons. Eventually I learned to play a lot of things.

Pit: You're very impassioned when you're on stage. How do you feel when you're playing live?

Jon: I don't really know; I just get in a state. I don't know what I do. I get to a point where I feel everything - all the pain that I feel inside, all the passion for my songs. I can't remember anything after; I just go for it. The band tells me what's going on after. Haven't you ever gotten that freaked out?

Pit: I have, but not on a regular basis.

Jon: Well, that happens to me every time. There were a couple of shows where I snapped out of it, and I just hated the shows. Things went wrong.

Pit: What do you expect to see in the crowd?

Jon: I usually just see lots of kids going crazy - jumping around in pits. I expect to see the kids having fun.

Pit: Is there a message in your music?

Jon: I guess the only one is to be honest with yourself. I'm tired of seeing hardcore kids acting like they're so tough, so hard, so bad, but they actually have feelings. It's hardest to be yourself. If you've got to be a fake, then who are you trying to fool? I have a lot of problems with all the testosterone.

Pit: Is it hard for you to be honest with yourself?

Jon: It was for a while, but it's not anymore. Now that I have my music I can get all this out. It's like therapy for me.

Pit: You're album has gotten a lot of critical acclaim. How does this affect you?

Jon: I think it's great. I never dreamed it would be like this, but getting good reviews makes it worth it. I had no idea that people would relate to me so much.

Pit: What do you think makes your music different?

Jon: Maybe it's our grooves. That's a good question.

Pit: What do you see as the world's biggest problem right now?

Jon: Us, I guess. The people. The politics. Stuff I don't care to talk about. I hate politics. Everyone should just kill politicians. America is a huge business; they do fucked up shit to us.