#and that i hope that he finds happiness and closure; whatever that looks like. whatever he needs to do.

[larsnicklas]

saint nicklas of the wry smile and perfect sauce pass, hallowed be thy name

[criminalamnesia]

ending 2 for tolerate it! this was my original idea for the ending!

I just wanted to clarify that I’m writing these two endings bc of the feedback I’ve received. The first ending is for those who wanted them to reconcile/make amends, and I wanted to give those readers some closure.

this ending is for those who want reader to be happy without him (which was my original idea lol). anyways I know a lot of people didn’t like ending 1 and that’s okay!! but here’s ending two, I hope you like it better :)

[ also, this takes place in between the time that reader leaves simon/price and the last line of part two! ]

part one here, part two here, ending 1 here

your friend graciously let you live with them for a few months while you got back on your feet.

you went to therapy. stopped crying whenever you thought of him or even his name. started taking care of yourself again.

you move out and find this cute little house. it’s small, cozy. you adore it, and your friend helps you move in.

you make it your own with colors and trinkets and pictures. there’s nothing in that house that serves as a reminder of your time with him. you’d gotten rid of all the pictures, all the gifts he’d bought you before things turned sour.

fuck him. he didn’t deserve to see your growth and your happiness. he didn’t deserve anything from you.

you get used to being on your own again. it’s nice. you don’t worry about a man who is halfway across the world. don’t worry about baking a cake for his return or setting up streamers. don’t worry about how damaged he’ll be when he walks through the door.

you’re happy. you love your job, your home, your friends. you treat yourself to coffee every wednesday afternoon, and that’s when you meet him.

you’ve ordered your coffee and are sitting at one of the cafe’s little tables, scrolling on your phone, when a man clears his throat.

you look up, and he’s got the kindest smile you’ve ever seen.

“hi,” he says, and you give a small smile as you click off your phone.

“um, hi?” you say, a little unsure of why he’s speaking to you.

“not to sound weird or anything,” he begins, and you give a small laugh.

“y’know, whenever someone says that, whatever they say next does tend to sound weird.”

he nods, that smile on his lips growing a smidge wider. “right. so, I guess this will be weird then, huh? but I’ve noticed you here every wednesday, and I just wanted to tell you you’re beautiful.”

you blush. you don’t think a man has ever been so straightforward with you, and although you do think it’s kind of weird, you try to just focus on the compliment.

but your guard is up. you don’t know him.

“oh, thank you. that’s sweet,” you reply, and he’s still looking down at you.

“can I sit?” he asks, which takes you by surprise.

“um, sure? I guess?” you say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement, but he’s sliding into the seat across from you.

he introduces himself, and you tell him your name. he says it’s pretty. you’re starting to think he’s coming on too strong.

but as the two of you begin to talk, you start to realize that’s just who he is. he’s a flirt, a flatterer, but it’s good natured.

it’s easy to talk to him. he keeps the conversation going, and he seems generally interested in what you have to say. it’s a stark difference from your last relationship.

but then he tells you he’s military, and your heart nearly stops.

“oh,” you say, a small frown on your lips.

“that an issue?” he says, and his tone is teasing. he doesn’t know— how could he? but your face says it all.

his brows furrow, and he gets serious for the first time since he’d sat across from you. he starts to reach for your hand, but decides against it. again, the two of you don’t know each other, and he’s aware of that.

“I don’t have a good track record with men in the military,” you tell him, trying to lighten the mood. he can tell something’s wrong, but he doesn’t push. he takes the bait, and you’re grateful. it makes you like him even more.

that’s why you end up talking until the place closes. the employees are practically shooing you out as you and the military man apologize profusely.

you’re on the sidewalk now, and he’s smiling at you. you find yourself smiling back.

“d’you mind if I get your number?” he asks.

as much as you enjoyed talking to him, you’re still unsure. you just recovered from everything that happened— are still recovering. you don’t want to rush into anything. so, you shake your head.

“if you’re serious,” you begin, looking up at him. “I’ll see you on another wednesday.”

he nods, a mischievous smile on his face. “im up to the challenge.”

you give a small laugh, then tell him goodnight. you turn and begin to walk towards your car, and you’re smiling like an idiot.

you don’t want to get you hopes up, but that little naive part of you— a part of you you’d thought was dead and gone— is making you. you try to stamp it back down.

next wednesday, you don’t see him, and you’re a little sad about it. you don’t see him the wednesday after that, either.

you don’t see him for a few months, actually. and after a few weeks, you’ve stopped thinking about him.

but then one wednesday, you’re sitting in that coffee shop, and there he is.

he’s wearing a short sleeve shirt, and you can see fresh cuts and scrapes along his arms. he asks if he can sit, and you oblige, gesturing to the seat across from you.

“sorry for disappearing on you,” he says, and you shake your head. he doesn’t owe you anything. you barely know each other.

“that day we talked, i ended up gettin’ deployed a few days later. didn’t have your number, so…” he trails off with a cheeky smile, and you grin as you roll your eyes.

“so im to blame, hm?” you say, and he nods.

“oh, absolutely.” he’s teasing, and you laugh.

“then let’s amend that.” you hand him your phone and he lights up. he taps his number in quickly before handing the phone back to you. you send him a quick ‘hi’ so your number will pop up in his phone.

“didn’t forget about you, though,” he says, and you blush. this man certainly has a way with words. “that’s why im here. glad to see you’re still a creature of habit.”

“is that a bad thing?” you ask, and he shakes his head.

“nah, I don’t think so.”

your phone chimes then. it’s one of your friends, asking you if you can come over. you type a quick reply and start to gather your things.

“leavin’ so soon?” he says, and you give a small nod.

“friend emergency.”

he nods. “understood. well, I’ll see you around then, yeah?” he smiling as he pushes himself out of his chair.

“you do have my number now,” you remind him. “we don’t have to wait on chance encounters.”

he hums in agreement. “that’s true, but I prefer face-to-face, y’know? especially since yours is so pretty.”

“you’re a flirt,” you tell him, but you’re blushing, and he chuckles.

“guilty.”

you bid him goodbye and walk towards the exit, your mind instantly shifting gears to your friend. you don’t think about the military man again until he texts you that night.

‘friend okay?’ he types.

‘all good.’ you respond.

he’s typing back for a good minute. the bubble disappears, then reappears.

‘if there are no more friend crises for the foreseeable future, and im not shipped off to fight bad guys, how about a proper date?’

you smile as you read the message.

‘sure.’ you respond, and he sends back a smiley face.

a first date turns into a second, then a third, then a fourth. they’re spread out over a year because of his job, but you don’t find yourself minding that much. he treats you so much differently than the last man did.

he eventually asks you to be his partner, and you say yes. of course you’re a little hesitant— things with your last military man started off good, too. but you feel like it’s different this time. he’s different.

you don’t know it, but every time he’s deployed, he talks his squad’s ear off about you. tells them you’re the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and that you’re so funny. tells them he’s gonna ask you to move in with him.

but he never mentioned your name. maybe he forgot, or maybe he just didn’t want to share that piece of you with them.

“you never shut up about this lover of yours,” simon/price says one day while they’re eating in the mess hall. although they’re not in the same squad, they’re friends, and they happen to be on base at the same time. “no way they’re real.”

your man just grins and holds out his phone, showing off his lockscreen. it’s a picture of you with your head thrown back in laughter. he’d taken it on one of your dates.

simon/price’s face darkens almost imperceptibly before he masks it. that’s you. he hadn’t thought about you in ages, but he knows that’s you in that picture. now everything comes rushing back.

your lover doesn’t notice the other man’s expression shift. he doesn’t realize that the man across from him knows you.

you had told him more about the man who broke your heart, but you’d never mentioned his name. you didn’t want to risk him knowing him.

it’s a good thing you’d never mentioned the name, because if your lover knew, he’d punch him in the jaw.

the conversation eventually shifts away from you, and simon/price is grateful. your man is none the wiser.

when he gets back home, he asks you to move in. you tell him no at first. you’re still a little broken. he understands, and doesn’t hold it against you. he takes it in stride, and you’re grateful.

you don’t know how you got so lucky this time. you don’t know how this man, who was so understanding, so kind, so caring, had practically fallen into your lap. maybe it was karma from your last relationship.

the universe crushed you once, and to make up for it, they dropped this man into your life. whatever it was, you were thankful.

the second time he asks you to move in with him, you say yes. he helps you with everything, and the whole time he’s smiling like an idiot. even when you almost drop a shelf on his toe, or when you argue with him about where to hang a picture.

you two end the night eating take out on the couch and watching trashy tv. he decides right then that he’s going to marry you one day.

a few months after you move in, he tells you he wants you to meet his friends.

you’re nervous, but he reassures you it will all be fine. tells you that they’ll love you. so, you get yourself ready and then he’s helping you into his truck, and your leg is shaking the whole way to the bar.

he puts a comforting hand on your knee. gives you a dazzling smile.

“they’ll love you,” he tells you. you nod.

when you get to the crowded bar, he leads you by the hand inside. you’re towed along behind him, so you don’t see his friends until you’re standing right in front of the booth they occupy.

you scan their faces, and you don’t recognize any of them. you’re thankful— a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders. he introduces you to them, and you fit in easily.

the night is going well until your man mentions simon/price’s name. he couldn’t know, you’d never told him. he was telling the story of how simon/price hadn’t believed him when he was talking about you.

the rest of his friends were laughing, but you were tense. he noticed immediately, shoulder nudging yours as he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“you okay?” he murmured, and you nodded.

he could tell you were lying, but he didn’t push it. didn’t even bring it up again until the two of you were home.

“how do you know simon/price?” he asked you as you hung your coat up on the rack. you frowned as you turned to face him.

“he was the one I dated before you. the guy who broke my heart. the one I told you about, remember?”

your man goes silent. he’s looking at you, his fists clenched at his sides. he believes you. there’s not a doubt in his mind, even for a second, that you’re not telling the truth.

“I didn’t want to tell you his name,” you admit, taking a step towards him. “in case you knew him. didn’t want to make things complicated.”

he’s still silent, his eyes trained on you as you slowly approach. an expression you can’t name paints his face.

“I understand if you want to end things,” you tell him, and that gets him moving again. he’s shaking his head. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends.”

“fuck him,” he spits, and he reaches his arms out to you. you step into his embrace and take a shaky breath. “fuckin’ bastard. I showed him a picture of you, and he didn’t say anything. I was gonna invite him tonight, but he’s on assignment, and—” he inhales sharply as his hands rest on your back. “and now im gonna break his fucking jaw.”

you push yourself back, your eyes finding your lover’s. you shake your head. “it’s not worth it. besides, don’t make any enemies within your base. you’ve got enough of those already.”

you can tell he wants to argue, but he doesn’t. he nods after a moment. silence fills the room.

“we don’t run in the same circles, usually,” he tells you, his voice quiet. “known each other since enlistment. got assigned to different squads. kept running into each other, though. kept in touch.”

“you can still—” you begin, but he interrupts.

“no, fuck him. I can’t be his friend when he’s treated you like shit. fucker will be lucky if I don’t blacken his fuckin’ eye.”

you don’t say anything. you pull yourself back towards his chest, and he holds you tight.

you don’t say anything, but your heart swells. this man, the one in your arms, is everything that he wasn’t. he doesn’t tolerate you, he celebrates you. loves you unconditionally. communicates and compromises. doesn’t pull away.

that’s why, when he asks you to marry him a month later, you say yes without thinking. because you don’t need to think.

the ceremony is small. friends and family gather and celebrate the two of you. you laugh and dance and drink the night away with the love of your life by your side.

and you don’t think of the man that broke your heart anymore. don’t give him the time of day, because you’ve moved on to something far greater. you’ve moved on to what you deserve.

a few years down the road, when your husband has finally retired, you’re making your way down the road to meet him at the coffee shop that brought you together.

someone calls your name, and your blood runs cold. you know that voice, and although you haven’t thought about who it belongs to in years, you doubt you’ll ever truly forget it.

he’s calling your name from somewhere behind you. you don’t turn around.

instead, you pull open the door of the coffee shop, step inside, and smile when you see your husband sitting at the same table you’d met him at all those years ago.

——————————————————————

author’s note:

ending 2 is finally here! while writing this, I originally pictured the reader getting with Gaz/johnny; however, I wasn’t sure how that would turn out.

how would they still work with simon/price after knowing everything? how would you go so long without hearing about/meeting gaz/johnny’s squad mates?

I didn’t know, and that’s why I scrapped the idea. You can still picture them, though! but I thought it best to have the love interest someone kinda detached from the 141.

anyways, hope you enjoyed :)

[phoenixcatch7]

Honestly I'd really like to see a mxtx3 story where wwx and xl work with Sqq to reveal sqq's true backstory and the system to lbh.

I mean, think about it!! One of the biggest problems with scum villain is how even though they get together, unlike the other couples bingqiu is still left with all these huge secrets that massively affect them both. Lbh is left believing he married his mercurial abuser, that his suffering passed some sort of indefinable test that proved him worthy of basic rights. That Sqq threw him in the abyss of his own volition. That Sqq was really sacrificing his life and not faking his death with intent to survive.

Sqq is left knowing all these things but unable to act on them, unable to tell his husband about his own past, unable to explain his actions, never able to fully let his guard down because he's supposed to be shen qingqiu. He can't even tell his own husband his original name!! If he could have, he would have, even if only in the extras!

But can you imagine???

A meeting of bingqiu, wangxian, Hualian, for whatever reason, and as the three (actual) protagonists chat and gossip and get to know each other, as they talk, Sqq is at ease enough to slip up and finds out he can talk about the system to anyone from outside pidw! Not just sqh!! Maybe not completely, but he can mention some, and the other two, concerned for their new friend, are clever enough to tease the rest out. They're horrified. Sqq is resigned but freshly hopeful.

And so begins Mission: Save Sqq's Marriage!

(Sqq would very much like to contend the title but he is out voted.)

I'd just love to see the three of them (with unquestioning aid from their husbands) get up to hijinks and face existential horrors on a quest to help bingqiu get the closure they need. And moshang too, I guess XD.

It'd also be very, very funny to have them all in the middle of the latest traumatic and/or mortifying scene look around at the other two like 'hey, aren't you supposed to be freaking out now? This is normally the part people start screaming' and the other two are like 'I mean I guess?? We've got things to do though' like kings of unflappable repression right there.

(and lbh and lwj having vinegar-offs while hc is sighing dreamily watching his husband make semi decent friends for once)

Like there's a bunch of crossovers but none really scratch that itch, you know? The main characters of all 3 mxtx?? There's so much potential for Truly Unhinged Shenanigans!! Wangxian visiting pidws wife plot filled world and disappearing into the wilderness for a full week, coming back with every single piece of clothing they brought ruined. Hualian go visit mdzs and and no one believes xl is a diety and hc chomping at the bit to kill them for the injustice. Bingqiu going to tgcf and lbh getting mistaken for a calamity, or Sqq falling into the one wife plot kidnapping or something intended for a diety.

But seriously imagine Sqq complaining about something and wwx and xl immediately going 'that's not right! You deserve better!!' and Sqq is like 'no it's fine I'm used to it' and the other two slam their fists on the table like 'no!!! If [husband] was forced to keep that kind of secret I'd hate it!! You two deserve to be properly happy!! Let us help! We can fix this!' and start working with zeal and vigor while Sqq trails along embarrassed half heartedly muttering 'it's not that bad >:/'.

And when it works (presumably some clever loophole they stumbled on) and bingqiu are tearfully kissing they share a low five without looking. Or that one meme where the person getting kissed holds their hand back and their wingman enthusiastically high fives it but there's two wingmen XD!

I don't knowww but it'd be such a good premise! Ripe for character interactions!! Fluff! Crack! Angst! Daytrips and pouring their hearts out to people who'd really understand! Xl wwx and Sqq bestie team up! Meeting moshang! Wwx info dumping about his monster index categorisation to an enthralled Sqq! Xl and Sqq bemoaning etiquette while wwx laughs at them! Xl and wwx having intense discussions about morality and righteousness! All three of them laughing at how oblivious they were about their husbands, each trying to one the other two for Dumb Moments They Should Have Realised (Sqq wins by horrifying the other two)!

Forget cross country kidnappings and being locked in a room! Where is my protagonist trio getting into trouble on a self imposed mission to help their friend! Let their magnetism for insanity shine!!

[lovelyjj]

Hii okay wait hear me out you know Rachel and Ross when he finds out she likes him then he goes to the coffee house at end with the rain kiss reader and jj fic like that

The One with a Happy Ending

jj maybank x reader

wc: 2,078

a/n: thank you for requesting! hope this is alright

JJ was happy. He was carefree and content. He had a wonderful girlfriend, Jessica, who he loved. His relationship was thriving. Everything seemed to be going his way.

You on the other hand were miserable. Watching JJ with another girl was painful. You wanted to be with him more than anything. It was tearing you apart.

So, here you were on a date trying to get over JJ. You thought the date was a good idea but now that you were here it wasn’t going so good. All you could think about is how happy JJ was with his girlfriend.

“What does she have that I don’t?” You wondered out loud.

“I beg your pardon,” your date Nathan replied.

“I mean like I’m pretty right? I’m smart and have a good sense of humor.”

“I mean sure,” Nathan was confused.

“So, what’s wrong with me?” You asked.

“I don’t think anything is wrong with you,” Nathan was being nice.

“Well something must be wrong with me,” you sighed, “Never mind.”

“I’m sorry let’s talk about you,” you redirected the conversation.

“Ok well I just had a nasty breakup so sorry if i’m nervous I haven’t been on a date in a while,” he nervously chatted.

“Oh i’m sorry to hear that,” you replied.

“It’s fine.”

The waiter came with a glass of wine and you took it right away and started chugging it.

“Um cheers,” Nathan put forth.

“Right, clink.” You held your glass out towards his a little bit not close enough to actually clink the glasses.

Majority of the night you talked about JJ and his girlfriend. You didn’t even notice your date was annoyed. You also were drinking a lot of wine. You finished a whole bottle by yourself and you were getting drunker by the second.

“She does not deserve him,” you slurred.

“Any dessert for you two?” The waiter asked.

“No! No dessert, just the check… please,” Nathan loudly replied.

“Oh no. You’re not having fun are you?” You asked.

“No I am. Only because I’ve been playing last nights hockey game in my head over and over.”

“Oh, look at me. Look at me. Oh, I’m on a date with a really great guy and all I can think about is JJ and his Jessica,” you stated bitterly.

“I just want to get over him.”

“God, I just wanna, why can’t I do that?” you questioned.

“Look, I’ve been through a breakup. Trust me. You’re gonna be fine,” Nathan encouraged.

“You just can’t see it now because you haven’t had any closure,” Nathan continued.

“Oh. Closure. That’s what it is. That’s what I need. God you’re brilliant.”

“Why didn’t I think of that. How do I get that?”

“Well, there’s no, you know, one way, really. It’s just, you know whatever it takes so that you can finally say to him ”I’m over you.” Nathan explained.

“Over you,” you repeated.

“That’s what it is. Closure.”

“Can I borrow your cellphone?”

“Sure,” Nathan handed you his phone.

You dialed JJ’s number and got his answering machine. So you left a message.

“JJ, hi. It’s Y/N. I’m just calling to say that… um everything’s fine. And i’m really happy for you and Jessica. And I want you to know I am over you. I… am over… you. And that my friend is what they call “Closure.”

Then you hung up.

That’s the last thing you remember of your date. You don’t even know how you got home. It was safe to say you were wasted. You don’t think there is gonna be a second date.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

With a hangover you made your way to the château the next morning. You and the pogues had plans but JJ was the only one not going. He had a date with his girlfriend. You were in the kitchen taking some ibuprofen.

JJ saunters in, “Hey Y/N/N, how was the date?”

“Um it was good,” you lied.

“Well Jessica is picking me up for our date, I just came by to change,” JJ told you.

“Ok.”

“Wait did I talk to you last night?” you asked.

“Um no,” JJ responded.

“Why do I feel like I had a dream about you last night?”

“Oh I don’t know did you?”

“I don’t remember. Did you call me?”

“No I stayed at Jessica’s last night.”

“Actually I haven’t checked my messages lemme do that real quick.”

You got up to go to the living room when you herd JJ call out to you. “Hey Y/N, I got a message from you.”

You turned back around and entered the kitchen. “Oh my god.”

“Oh my god. No JJ. Hand up the phone. Gimme the phone gimme the phone.” You said as you rushed towards him.

“Gimme the phone gimme the phone,” you got on JJ’s back and threw his phone in the sink but it was too late.

“You’re over me?”

“Oh, God!” You got off JJ’s back and started walking towards the couch.

“You’re you’re over me?”

“Oh my god!”

“When… when were you… under me?”

“Y/N? Y/N, do you… I mean, were you, uh…”

“Uhh.”

“What?” JJ asked.

“Okay, Okay.”

“Well… basically, lately I’ve, uh… I’ve, uh, sort of had feelings for you.”

JJ felt his heart drop. He couldn’t believe his ears. He has liked you for so long but he was convinced you didn’t feel the same way so he moved on. And now he’s dating a really great girl and this couldn’t have been at a worse time.

“You’ve had feelings for me.” JJ repeated.

“Yeah? What? So? You had feelings for me first.”

“Whoa! Huh! You know about my.. I mean, you know I had.. you-you know?” JJ stuttered.

“John B told me.”

“John B. When did he, when did he, when did he?”

“When you first went out with Jessica.”

“Jessica, Jessica!” JJ remembered she was in the car waiting for him.

“That’s… oh, God.”

“Jessica Jessica. Right. Okay, I need to lie down.” JJ breathed.

“No, you know, I’m going to stand.”

“I’m going to stand and I’m going to walk.”

“Now you’re over me?” JJ asked.

“Are you over me?” you responded.

JJ’s phone started ringing. It was Jessica.

“Hi,” JJ answered.

“Hi honey i’m here.” You could hear her through the phone.

“I’ll be right there.” JJ replied.

“Wait So you’re going?”

“Well I have to.”

“Okay. Okay.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

The coffee shop you worked at was fairly small. It was a cute little place and you liked working there. It was raining and you were closing up shop. What you didn’t expect when you were closing was JJ to come in.

“What are you doing here?” you asked.

“I wanted to see you,” JJ responded.

“And you had no right to tell me you ever had feelings for me.” JJ angrily spat.

“What?”

“I was doing great with Jessica before I found out about you.”

“Hey, I was doing great before I found out about you. You think it’s easy for me to see you with Jessica?”

“Well, then, you should have said something before I met her!” JJ yelled.

“I didn’t know then. And how come you never said anything to me?”

“There was never a good time.”

“Right, because you only had a year and we only hung out every night.”

“I tried but there were always something in the way. The point is I don’t need this right now. Okay? It’s too late. I’m with somebody else. I’m happy. This ship has sailed.”

“Okay, so what you’re-you’re going to just put away feelings or whatever the hell it was that you felt?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay well you go ahead and you do that JJ.”

“Fine.” JJ walked out the door. You got up and you locked it. Then you sat down and started crying. When you were done crying you wiped your tears and stood up and saw JJ was at the window of the door.

You slowly unlocked and opened the door. You looked into JJ’s eyes and he looked at you with so much adoration it made you dizzy. Then JJ surged forward and his hands were on your waist in an instant.

JJ’s mouth landed on yours in a heated kiss. Your lips were devouring each other. The kiss was hungry yet tender. You were excited that JJ was kissing you. JJ was confident and eager. JJ nibbled down on your lower lip and then swiped his tongue over it to sooth it. Then your tongues danced together in a messy make out. His hands went from your waist to cradling your face. The rain in the background added to the ambience and you felt like you were floating.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“JJ kissed me.” You excitedly shared.

“No!” Kiara put her hands over her mouth.

“Oh my god! oh my god! oh my god!” Sarah babbled.

“It was unbelievable,” you expressed.

“Oh my god! oh my god! oh my god!” Sarah exclaimed.

“Ok alright we wanna hear everything!” Kiara requested.

“Y/N, does this end well or do we need to get tissues?” Sarah asked.

“Oh, it ended very well.”

“Okay, alright. Let’s hear about the kiss. Was it like, was it like a soft brush against your lips or was it like a. you know “I got to have you now” kinda thing? Kiara spoke.

“Well first it was really intense and then we sorta just got lost in each other.”

“Oh.” Sarah and Kiara both sighed.

“Oh, so okay was he holding you or-or was his hands, like on your back, you know?” Kiara asked.

“No, actually, first they-they they started out on my waist and then, they slid up and then they were holding my face.”

“Oh.” Kiara and Sarah both responded.

When JJ was telling John B and Pope about the kiss he wasn’t that detailed.

“And then I kissed her.” JJ nodded.

“Tongue?” John B questioned.

“Yeah.”

“Cool.”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

You were over the moon that JJ kissed you. You thought everything was fine and dandy until you saw him the next day. The six of you were at the château hanging out.

When JJ walked in Sarah said, “So how’d you make out last night?”

“That’s painfully funny. No that’s just painful.” JJ replied.

“Wait a minute. I thought last night was-was great.” Kiara pondered.

“Yeah, it was, but… I get home, okay? and I’m thinking to myself, “Oh, my God what the hell am I doing?” I mean, here I am, I’m with Jessica this incredible, great woman who I care about and-and who cares about me and I’m, like, “What, am I just gonna throw all that away?”

“Wait a minute this is Y/N we’re talking about here. You and Y/N.” Kiara countered.

“Trust me I’ve been dreaming about me and Y/N for a long time but I’m with Jessica now.”

You walked up the porch and opened the door and walked into the group of your friends in the living room.

“Y/N, Y/N.” JJ called.

“Hey, you.”

“How are you?” JJ asked.

“Good. How are you?”

“Good.”

“Hi honey,” Jessica says as she enters the room.

“Hi Jessica, Hi… Jessica. Um how are you?”

“Good.”

“Good. So everyone is here, everyone is good.” JJ confirmed.

To say it was awkward was an understatement. JJ was feeling very nervous and conflicted. He knew he had to choose and he knew that Jessica being here made you feel bad and he hated that. He knew he needed to make a decision soon.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

JJ decided to break up with Jessica. It was horrible she cried even. But she wasn’t you so JJ knew it was a no brainer. He chose you.

JJ was with the guys on the beach. Then you and Sarah and Kiara walked up to them.

“Oh hi,” you said to JJ.

“I just got back from Jessica’s.”

“Oh,” you frowned.

“No It’s not like that, I broke up with her.”

“Wait really?”

“Really.”

“It’s always been you Y/N/N,” JJ explained.

“That’s good that’s so good.” You embraced JJ in a hug and then you kissed him out of pure happiness.

“You want to take a walk in the beach just us?” JJ asked.

“I’d love to.” You grinned.

So hand and hand you and JJ walked on the beach and all was right in the world because you two could finally be together.

[fictionalreads]

I Wish I Loved You Like I Miss You

A/N: A short little thing while I try to get past a block on the boxer AU. Hope y'all like it! Title is from After All These Years by Camila Cabello.

Masterlist

Fandom: Bad Boys

Pairing: Armando Aretas x Reader

Summary: Armando runs into you after your break-up.

Warnings ⚠️: Angst.

The barista calling out your name is what caught Armando’s attention. It wasn’t an uncommon name, but it was like he instinctually knew it was you. Looking up, he saw you walk to the counter to grab your coffee. Your hair was longer than it was the last time he saw you, reaching mid-back now. It was now black rather than the chestnut brown he was used to, still curly as ever. You looked leaner with more defined arm muscles, maybe you had finally started that boxing class you’d always said you wanted to try. You smiled at the barista in thanks and his breath was taken away at the way it still shined.

Your smile had always been his favorite thing about you.

He wasn’t prepared to see you. He had thought about what he’d do or say to you if he ever did see you again from time to time but there was never a concrete plan. In the beginning, he thought it was temporary, that you’d come back and he’d beg for your forgiveness and you’d take him back. There was no way a love like yours could just be over without trying to fix things. He’d been prepared to give you whatever you wanted, if only to have you back. After a while he realized you meant it when you said you were done. He had been angry at first, thinking you were just like everybody else in his life, quick to use him for what you wanted before leaving him behind like he wasn’t worth it. As time went by, he realized it wasn’t that you thought of him as not worth it, you simply valued yourself more.

He could understand you needing to put your own peace and happiness ahead of his, especially because he never considered your needs the way he should have.

So he decided he would leave you alone if he ever saw you again. He’d give you the thing you wanted most, the space from him to move on and find better. He owed you that much. But seeing you now, he couldn’t let you pass him without a word. He wasn’t sure how to approach you, how to start an apology that you didn’t need from him.

How to ask for closure from you when you’d already found your closure by leaving.

You checked to make sure you had everything before making your way through the small crowd in the shop. You didn’t get frustrated with anyone, simply said excuse me and waited for them to move, no anger if they moved slowly. He had about five seconds before he lost his window of opportunity, but it was like he was frozen. Overcome with emotions that he couldn’t untangle enough to put into words. Guilt and yearning at the forefront.

Four

He couldn’t help but think of all the ways he’d sabotaged the relationship. All the times he’d started arguments because he was scared, afraid you’d decide not to love him after all. When he’d decided for you that you couldn’t possibly love someone like him. All the times he pushed your patience, trying to see how far he could push you before you broke.

Three

He had thought he’d made his peace with losing you but seeing you now brought back all those old feelings he’d once carried around. Maybe he hadn’t moved on as much as he’d pushed it all down in an effort to forget, to dull the pain of loss, because he craved the feeling he would get when you smiled at him. He wanted you to look his way, to simply acknowledge he was there. He wanted to be the center of your attention once more, vowing he’d do better at making you his in return.

Two

As you got closer to him, he noticed a ring on your finger. One that meant you’d clearly moved on, found the person who was able to give you what you needed, who didn’t take your love for granted. Someone you didn’t have to make excuses for, someone who prioritized you. Someone who was ready for you. Was it fair of him to bring up the turmoil when you were happy now?

One

A/N: I thought about writing if Armando reaches out to her or not and the consequences of whatever choice he makes, but I kind of like that it's open ended. Don't forget to comment, like and reblog!

Taglist: @d4rno @yeahnohoneybye @nelo0wesker

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @bootlegroach

[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:

[marygillisapologist]

Longing for closure | Charles x F!Reader

Pairing: Charles Smith x F!Reader

WC: 1142, aprox. 5 minute read

Teaser: “For the best, I know, but. I just-” He looked remain before stepping closer, looking into your eyes. His presence was overwhelming, and your need for his company was immense. “Charles, I-” You protested, avoiding his gaze. “Please.” He pleaded, stroking his hand against your cheek, keeping it there.

Warnings: Fluff, very little mention of sexual interactions | Secret Relationship | Pining

A/N: This is my first time writing anything so I'm open to critique and will appreciate any form of interaction. ALSO- If you find any grammar mistakes please feel free to tell me, since English isn't my first language. Anyways, hope you enjoy <3

Even though these last few months had been miserable and full of loss, a blooming love had grown in the dying fields. Two strong individuals in need of comfort, finding it in each other at an all time low. While the remaining members of the gang were scrambling to find safety in Lakay, a heated exchange had taken place between you and Charles Smith. After months of pining and longing for each other, you’d finally confronted your feelings. His burly arms had held you close, as his lips were pressed against yours in need of love, in need of you.

Ever since then, you both had realized that you were each other's pillar, the ones who held each other up when the other was falling apart. You agreed that whatever happened, you’d stick together no matter what. However, for the both of yours safety, you agreed to keep it under wraps, not wanting your love to be used against you as it had with John and Abigail. The only few people who actually knew, were the ones paying close attention. Someone like Ms. Grimshaw, most of the women and even Arthur caught on pretty quickly, while the rest never really did. You were happy in his presence, happy to have a safe haven to return when all hell broke loose.

As the days went by and more tragedy occurred. All this death and misery had been piling for months, and for what? For no reason, at least in the eyes of Charles. He was losing hope, and also a close friend of his. Arthur was dying, and with him so was the gang. He was the right hand man, the one with the most common sense out of all of these people- besides you of course. This made Dutch question his ability to advise him, instead seeking the advice of Micah. The Van Der Linde gang had turned a new leaf, one that had fallen and withered.

Charles was on thin ice. 

Charles hated every moment of suppressing his feelings for you regardless of it being for the best. Even though the both of you had agreed to it, he still couldn’t help but feel guilt for not giving you the love and solace you craved. As he and Arthur rode back to camp from a visit at the Wapiti Tribe, noise of quarreling and accusing got louder and louder. He couldn’t help the pit in his stomach form, as he saw you walk back from the river with fresh laundry, your face carrying a slight frown and furrowed brows. 

“You alright there Charles?” Arthur asked with a cough as the horses went from trotting to walking. 

“Yeah, I’m good. How about you?” Charles asked concerned, while his gaze stayed on you. 

“I reckon I don’t matter too much no more.” Arthur chuckled.

“But you sure you’re doin’ alright? You seem a bit distraught.” He questioned as they arrived at the hitching posts.

“Yeah, I’m sure… I’ll see you around” Before Arthur knew it, Charles had already hitched his horse and headed your direction before Arthur had even left the saddle.

You stood to the side hanging the laundry you’d just washed down by the river, trying to mute the sound of Dutch’ preaching. Tension had been at an all time high, causing you to overwork yourself with chores to distract yourself from your misery. This had ultimately also caused multiple people to leave, making you wonder what was making you stay. Was it loyalty, company or fear of a civil life, when this was the one you’d grown used to for the last couple of years? 

For the first time since joining the gang, you were exhausted, an overwhelming nausea at the thought of things coming to an end. Dutch wasn’t the same heroic individual who’d saved you from a group of greedy men. No he was much different. So different, that if it had happened on this day, then it more than likely would’ve been your last.

Lost in your train of thoughts, you heard your name. Quickly you laid down whatever article of clothing you had and turned around towards the noise.

“Charles. You're back.” You said as your eyes brightened and your smile widening, about to go in for a greeting kiss. He smiled back softly before looking down into the ground about to give in before the sound of arguing in the back reminded you of where you were. 

“Right, my bad.” You smiled softly, eyes filled with disappointment as you stepped back. “You um… Is everything alright, are you alright?” You asked, wanting to make sure he was doing as good as one could in the current state of things. 

He stood there looking into your eyes for a little before answering.

“Yeah I’m-” He stopped himself, fiddling with fingers as he thought of what he was gonna say next.

He took a deep breath before continuing, saying your name lowly.

“I’m not sure I can handle this much longer.”

You looked at him, your brows furrowing as you bit the inside of your cheek. You know exactly what he meant, as you felt the same.

“I know, but it’s-” You responded, trying to stay logical for the both of you.

“For the best, I know, but. I just-” He looked remain before stepping closer, looking into your eyes.

His presence was overwhelming, and your need for his company was immense.

“Charles, I-” You protested, avoiding his gaze.

“Please.” He pleaded, stroking his hand against your cheek, keeping it there.

A few moments went by, no words said out loud, yet his and your needs were heard and finally acted upon. You place your hand on his cheek, stroking it before leaning in to kiss him. You directed his hand to your other cheek before letting go, pulling him closer by his collar. Your face in his hand and your arms wrapping around his neck, you hadn’t gotten this close in a while, too busy working.

His lips stayed on yours for what seemed like forever, before he broke it, placing his forehead on yours as the both of you were quietly panting. He smiled at you, and you smiled at him. His eyes were filled with admiration, as was yours, it was a beautiful moment.

“I love you.” He smiled, pecking the corner of your lips. You looked up at him, your eyes watering at the sound of his confession. One that none of them had made before, but had always known to be true.

“I love you too, Charles.” You grinned in response before leaning into another deep kiss.

Maybe hiding from each other wasn't for the best, and maybe closure had been this whole time. Regardless, your hope for the future had been restored. You both knew it would be with each other.

BONUS - Arthurs Journal Entry

Charles and I went to talk to Rains Falls about Dutch and his unhinged decision making. It ain’t looking too good, but we promised to keep a good eye on him.

Anyway, Charles seemed distracted when we went out. I didn’t know exactly why, but I had an idea. He seemed in a hurry when we got back and finally kissed her. He’s been head over heels for that girl ever since he joined us back up in the Grizzlies last year, pretty sure it went both ways. 

They remind me of Mary and I, how we kept it secret too before she left me. I was too stubborn to change my ways, I guess. I wonder if things would’ve changed if I’d ran away with her back in Saint Denis or Valentine. It’s too late now, she mailed me the ring I gave her all those years ago. What a couple of fools in love we were. 

I’m just happy that they aren’t fools like us, and that Charles won’t cower away because of some code that turns out to be irrelevant by the likes of Dutch. I’m also happy that I finally stopped hiding. They seemed real happy when they stopped worrying so much about the rest. I saw Susan and a couple others smile too, they probably noticed the lingering before too. Not everyone had though, Dutch looked quite surprised, almost threatened. I wonder what he and Micah are up to now.

Hope you liked it! BTW pls feel free to give requests, I love writing from given prompts <33

[kit-walk3r]

My Kyle (Kyle Spencer x fem!reader) (Together Not Forever alternate ending)

Maybe you don’t have to learn to let Kyle go after all

Warnings: none

Part 1 Part 2

Note: here’s the alternate ending to Together Not Forever! I’m pretty happy with this so I hope you like it 💗

“Y/N. She’s leaving,” Zoe repeated. “She’s moving back home to be with her family.”

“Oh,” Kyle looked down. He felt a wave of sadness but also a sense of… relief. If you left then that allowed him to resist the temptation to find you and put you in any danger by being in his company. It would also set you free, away from him.

“Oh? That’s all you can say?” Zoe scoffed.

“Maybe it’s better this way,” Kyle shrugged. “She can get over me and I can get over her.”

“Kyle, you’re miserable without each other. This is your chance to be happy again.” Zoe insisted.

Kyle shook his head. “I made my choice, Zoe. I can’t be near her anymore.”

“How are you going to give yourself any closure?” Zoe asked. She sat down next to Kyle. “You need to think about yourself as well. Kyle, you said she was the love of your life. Are you really going to let her go without getting your own goodbye?”

…

It was your final shift at the diner before you moved back home to your family. “Someone’s asking for you,” your boss said, pointing to the door that led to the main diner.

“Who?” You asked.

Your boss shrugged. “Some brown haired girl.”

Brown haired girl? Zoe.

You nodded in thanks, before heading out onto the floor. There Zoe was, awkwardly standing next to the door waiting for you.

“Zoe?” You walked over to her and she smiled before greeting you. “What are you doing here?” The two of you had already said goodbye.

“I’m so glad I caught you,” Zoe said. “I’ve got something I need to show you. When do you finish your shift?”

You checked your watch. “In about a half hour,” you answered. “Why? What do you need to show me?”

“It’s a surprise,” She smiled.

“Okay…” You said, confused. “Well, if you let me know where it is I can come meet you once my shift’s over.”

“It’s no bother,” Zoe shrugged. “I can just hang here until you finish. It’s probably easier for me to drive you, anyway.”

You nodded. “Well, if you take a seat over there I can bring you over a milkshake or something.” You motioned towards one of the empty booths.

Zoe took a seat as you walked back to the kitchen, confused and intrigued about what her surprise was.

- - -

Once your shift was over you said your goodbyes to your friends and co-workers before grabbing your bag and heading out to meet Zoe. She was still sitting at the same booth, and got up when she saw you walking towards her.

“Ready to go?” She asked and you nodded.

The two of you headed out to her car which was parked just outside. It was sleek and black, much nicer than anything you could afford. You marvelled at the vehicle for a moment before getting the passenger side, waiting for Zoe to start the car.

“Any hints on what this ‘surprise’ is?” You asked as she started the drive to wherever the destination was. Your interest in whatever Zoe had to show you had peaked now you were on your way.

“Let’s just say I know you’re gonna love it,” Zoe teased, eyes on the road. She was grinning, and you wondered what could be so special for her to look so excited about something for you. You hummed in response and looked out the window at the world passing by for the remainder of the drive.

You weren’t in the car for long before you pulled up to a large pillared white house, surrounded by a black iron gate. Your eyes widened at the majestic sight. It was beautiful.

“Here we are,” Zoe said. She got out of the car and you quickly followed.

“Do you live here?” You asked curiously as Zoe opened the gate, ushering you inside.

She nodded. “For almost a year. It’s a pretty cool place, right?”

You hummed in agreement. She let the two of you into the house and you couldn’t help but gasp at the grandness of the interior. “This is beautiful,” you remarked, taking in the white walls and the chandeliers and grand staircase.

“Come on, your surprise is upstairs,” Zoe smiled and the two of you walked up the spiral staircase, still overwhelmed by the sight. This was a whole lot nicer than the dingy college dorm you lived in.

Zoe led you along a long hallway until you reached the final door on the one, pure white like everything else in this place. She knocked twice before opening the door. “Go inside,” her smile turned into a grin and she pushed open the door for you to enter.

It was quite a sparse room, with very little to no decoration and a bed and nightstand being the only pieces of furniture, asides a small chair in the other corner of the room, yet it still kept up the grand aesthetic the rest of the house you had seen shared.

A figure sat on the bed. He wore a black jumper, contrasting highly with the white surroundings and making him immediately noticeable to your eye. He was sitting with his back to you, but you still noticed the shaggy head of blonde hair that was oh so familiar. Too familiar.

The creek of the floorboards underneath your feet caught his attention and he slowly turned around to see you.

Kyle.

Your Kyle.

You froze in your place, unblinking, as you took in the sight in front of you. No, it couldn’t be. Kyle was dead, long dead. You’d just about come to terms with it now. This couldn’t be happening.

Kyle was still too, and the both of you spent what felt like forever just staring at each other, taking in the fact that you were in each other’s presence again. You felt as if you could hardly breathe. It felt like a dream. Surely this was a dream?

The trance the two of you were in was broken when Kyle uttered your name. That was his voice, Kyle’s voice. Just the sound of it brought tears to your eyes and you felt one slowly roll down your cheek.

“Kyle?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. This had to be a dream, and you wanted to wake up. This wasn’t fair. This would only cause her more pain when she inevitably awoke.

Kyle spoke your name again and stood up from the bed, yet you stayed frozen. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, afraid that if you even took one step all of this would wash away, as if your memory of Kyle would wash away.

He slowly walked towards you as you felt yourself continue to cry. You still felt unable to move and as Kyle inched closer your heart began to beat faster and faster. Your body felt hot, your hands slightly shaking. Was this real? Was this reality?

You felt the gentlest touch on your cheek. Kyle wiped away the tears staining your cheek, even though tears were glistening in his own eyes. Here he was, standing right in front of you and you took him all in. You noticed the scar that ran across one of his cheeks. Just above the collar of his shirt you could see another scar, circling his whole neck, that looked pretty deep. His hair was a mess, not neat and tidy how he usually liked to keep it, and you were pretty sure he was taller than you remembered. He looked different, but he was still Kyle.

The two of you locked eyes, and you acknowledged that you were now both crying. Your own hand mirrored Kyle’s and you reached out to clean his own cheek of tears. The skin under your finger was warm and you gently ran your thumb over the slightly rough texture of his scar. He was still Kyle.

Through the tears you noticed something in Kyle’s eyes, the familiar twinkle you always saw when he was smiling and laughing with you. And that was when you couldn’t control yourself anymore and you jumped at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and pressing your face into his neck in the tightest embrace you had ever given him. He held you back just as tightly and you felt him press a kiss to the side of your head like he always used to. This was real, Kyle was real, and you couldn’t believe that you were lucky enough to have another chance with him.

“Kyle,” you cried into him, your tears non-stop flowing. “My Kyle.”

- - -

Outside, Zoe smiled as she watched the two of you embrace before quietly shutting the door and allowing you to have your loving moment of happiness and bliss.

•———•

Kyle and the reader finally got their happy ending! I’m really happy with how the alternate ending turned out and I hope it satisfied people who wanted a happy ending. I may have one or two ideas for a couple more fics in this series based on this alternate ending if anyone is interested.

Also, remember my requests are open!

[raayllum]

some of the questions & answers i was most interested / validated by from this interview between The Reel James and Aaron Ehasz

INTERVIEWER: He used dark magic again, there’s no ifs, ands, or buts about it?

AARON: Yeah he did. He did what he had to do, and he saved her. Like I don’t know what would’ve happened if he hadn’t made that decision when he did. 

INTERVIEWER: Another wonderful moment in S5, well actually several moments, something that I and so many of the fans are asking for, which was just having more Rayllum this season. And Aaron, you delivered, sir, because I can tell you - I was putting together a compilation video and they are like five, six, seven genuine Rayllum moments. Was that something intentional? Did you always kinda knew you were gonna do that in S5?

AARON: I thought people were gonna hate us. I-I’m glad people feel that way, cause we - we were very distinctly decided let’s focus on rebuilding their actual relationship as friends and as trusting people who care about each other and not build the romantic part. So I thought people were gonna be like “No kiss, what?!” and it turns out people actually respond to the genuine connection and reconnection that happened between Callum and Rayla this season, and that makes me really happy. 

INTERVIEWER: Yeah, I think we all got a little bit of closure too, with that scene with Amaya and Rayla in the Great Bookery. They’re having that conversation and it sounded like Amaya was gonna tear her head off, and then she ends up saying she sees “a lot of me in you” and I think that’s such a mature moment. I was wondering if you could kinda talk through that cause that ended up being one of my favourite scenes of the entire series, because it was just so much more mature than I ever expected it to be.

AARON: Yeah, I mean, it’s something we knew we were gonna have to grapple with from more than one side [...] Amaya’s also this super protective aunt who saw what happened and saw how hurt her nephew was, so it’s just great material and also they’re both such strong characters, so seeing them kind of go at it a little bit, but also each show some vulnerability was just really delightful, and it was a great opportunity. Sometimes you find those scenes that are almost [...] but yes the time between Rayla and Amaya, it was just a joy finding the drama and the humour in their conversation.

INTERVIEWER: [Rayla and Callum] have their Han Solo - Princess Leia moment where Callum looks over to Rayla and says, “Rayla, I just want to tell you--” she says “I know.” And I’m like whoa! Hold on. So I’m guessing he wanted to tell Rayla that he loves her, or he forgives her?

AARON: Some combination, but I think he’s seeing in that moment - you know, you have those moments where you’re hurt by someone and they come back, and they wanna be welcomed back or treated warmly or something, and we all understand this, and instead of... Part of you wants to be warm and normal again, but you’re a little cold, cause you’re waiting for them to do whatever they need to do to process the wrongs that you perceive that they did to you. Like we have those moments in our relationships all the time and they’re hard not to do. Part of it is you’re standing up for yourself and all this stuff it gets complicated. And I think to some degree in that moment, Callum recognizes, like, he’s kept these walls up and maybe he’s hoping she’d do the work to get through them, and in this moment he’s regretting that the walls were up, maybe. And trying to tell her, you know, that - cause he, he thinks that’s it. Like they won’t have time to process, and maybe he... So, I dunno, I agree it’s a sad, beautiful, lovely moment. 

INTERVIEWER: Do you see a world where they actually have that ‘sit down and have a conversation’ about “here’s how I felt, Rayla, when you left for two years” and “here’s how I felt when you came back” and “you gave me the cold shoulder” or do you think that was enough closure? They can move forward from now?  

AARON: Um, what do you think, do they have more to talk about? 

INTERVIEWER: Yeah, I think they do.

AARON: Yeah, I agree. They have a lot more.

AARON: [About the “I hope you know--” “I know”.] He’s regretting that he’s held the walls up to protect himself and not given her a chance to make things up to him more easily, and not express to her that he missed her, that he still... 

INTERVIEWER: Was Callum using dark magic in a way to darken and make it easy to be controlled by Aaravos next time? Or was it just a convenient way for Callum to get free and safe his friends on Finnegrin’s boat?

AARON: Yeah I don’t think so. I think, Callum recognizes correctly that using dark magic somehow is creating some vulnerability in him that allows Aaravos kinda more access in a way to controlling him or be inside him in some horrible way. The fact he recognized the risk and vulnerability of using it- that it poses to himself but he took that on anyway because he felt like he had to to save Rayla.

AARON: The wait for S6 will be similar to the last gap [between S4 and S5], slightly less or slightly more. We’re concurrently working on S6 and S7 right now. 

[shadowbriar]

Fred Weasley - Pick Up Where We Left Off

Pairing : (F/M) || Fred Weasley x Reader Word Count : 2.5k Warning : None. Let me know if I missed anything Synopsis : One last Christmas with the Weasleys, would she find her closure from his sudden withdrawal years ago? Notes : I’m trying to pull myself out of writing slump. Hope this is good enough of a comeback-ish post. Not proofread, I might edit this later. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Perhaps she’s read one too many romantic novels that it’s started to blur the line of reality in her life. Perhaps Hermione has told her too many tales of happy endings that it’s started to dilute her idea of realism. Perhaps she’s taken Divination class too seriously that it’s started to make her believe that the Universe holds a better, sweeter, and dreamier ending for her and him.

It was no question for her on whose palms her heart belongs. Long before Snape taught her class about Amortentia, long before Trelawney taught her about crystal-gazing, she already knew whose magnetic force her world would revolve around. One look of him after being sorted to her house and it felt like the thin haze of uncertainty in her life was lifted. She might only be a child then, but she knew that this wouldn’t be something she could walk past from. 

For the first few years of her school life, everything seemed to be falling to its place. It wasn’t hard for her to grow close with him, like how bees are naturally attracted to flowers, in no time he was always just an arm’s length from her. He was always around. Always had his hands on top of her head as they walked on the corridors, always saved her a seat in the Great Hall for every meal, and would always find her first to share the mischief he’s accomplished during the day.

Yet some day in their Third year, something changed. Like someone had just pulled the rug she was standing on, snapping her to the reality that things are simply too good to be true. She has misunderstood his affection and tender gestures. Fred Gideon Weasley has never held any romantic feelings for her.

She bites her lip as the memories of their once fond friendship slowly evaporates to thin air. He slowly distant himself, for whatever reason she still couldn’t decipher. His bright beaming smile turns into a tight line before eventually gone entirely from his handsome face. His fingers no longer play with her hair and the space between them during meals seem to grow further each day until he’s found himself eventually sitting on a different spot.

“Will you come and spend Christmas with us?” Ginny asks, linking her arms as they walk to the train “It’s been a while since we see you on breaks.”

She smiles, shaking her head lightly, “Not this time, Gin.”

“Is Fred still being an arse?” The younger continues with her questions “It’s been years, surely he’s warmed up to you.”

“He sure has.” She lied, giving the red head a squeeze on the arm “We’re just not as close anymore and I think it would be awkward for us all if I were to pop out of nowhere at your family dinner.”

“Nonsense! Everyone would be delighted to see you, I can guarantee that.”

She shows an apologetic smile, still not giving in.

“It’s been years,” Ginny continues to plead “You’re graduating soon and Merlin knows when else we could spend Christmas together. You know, Charlie’s back from Romania and it wouldn’t be complete still without you there.”

“I don’t know, Gin.”

“Please? I’ll hex and petrify Fred in his room if he’s making you uncomfortable.”

She chuckles a little before letting out a sigh, “Alright.”

—-

She tidies her skirt in nervousness, standing in front of the Burrow’s door as she wonders if coming here was a mistake. One last Christmas, she thought. One last Christmas before she could move on from the long attaching chapter in her life that is Fred Weasley. One last Christmas with the Weasley before she shuts the memory away. One last Christmas to say goodbye.

With a long inhale, she hesitantly knocks on the wooden door. Her grip on her purse tightened as the person who greets her first was the one she least wished to see. He looks just as surprised to see her, a light hint of rose tainting his cheeks. Perhaps from the cold breeze of air.

“Hi.”

“Hello,” She greets back “Your family invited me for dinner.”

He blinks, seemingly at a loss of words, “Right, of course.”

“Sunshine!’ A voice called behind him, revealing Bill who’s now coming to her with large steps “Oh, it’s been decades since I last saw you!”

She giggles as he pulls her for a hug, lifting her slightly, “Hello, Bill.”

“Oh, Merlin.” He says, staring at her beamingly as he puts her down “Look at you now! You’ve grown! You’re a lady now.”

“Still far shorter than you, though.”

“Nah, your height is the perfect one. It’s cute.”

Fred clears his throat, “I think you should let a woman come inside first before flirting with her, Bill.”

“Of course!” Bill says, pulling her by the shoulder and leading her in “Come on, there’s so many things we should talk about. How’s life, Darling?”

The warm happy smile is still plastered on her face, feeling genuinely happy as Bill starts to share the bits of his life that she’s missed about. He’s always been the welcoming big brother for her, always there to embrace her with such warmth and love she would never find elsewhere. Yet with all the joy and delight of hearing Bill’s pleasant stories, she couldn’t help but to notice the annoyed scoff and the louder slam of the door as they entered the house.

Perhaps her presence really is a bother for him.

—-

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She curses with a sigh, placing her hands to hips.

To say dinner went pleasantly would be such an understatement. Everyone welcomed her as if she was the missing jigsaw the family has been missing for years. Bill was always by her side, Charlie sharing all of his adventurous tales from Romania, and Percy who blabbered about his new position at the ministry. The shared night felt like it went by too quickly that Mrs. Weasley persisted for her to stay the night, not ready to say goodbye just yet.

Perhaps it was the blissful warmth the house has always been filled in and the waves of emotions she hasn’t felt for years that made her struggle to drift off to sleep now. That or the fact that Fred was the only silent party on the table. He was the only one who didn’t try to engage in a conversation with her, yet she could feel his eyes boring into her like a tiger prying on their prey. The not so subtle, dare she say, jealousy he shows when Bill rests his arm around her shoulder, or when Charlie played with her hair, or when Percy give her a slice of their mother’s cookings, or when George made her laugh so hard she cried, or when Ron hugged her as he opens her present, or even when Ginny stole her to gossip about her little crush on Harry at the sitting room. All the little mundane things they used to do, she couldn’t help but to wish that Fred would miss it too.

But he’s made no effort to come to her, not even a step closer. He kept his distance, a tight forced smile decorating his face whenever their eyes met. It was as if her presence was torturing him.

“Need a hand?”

“Oh, Godric!” She yelps, turning to see the angel of her nightmares standing by the stairs “I couldn’t find where the sugar’s placed.”

He nods, not saying a word as he opens the overhead cabinet and puts the sugar to the table.

“Thanks.” She muttered with a small smile “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No,” He says short, now leaning to the basin “I couldn’t sleep.”

She nods.

The sound of her stirring her cup of tea is now the only thing breaking the silence between them. She could feel him staring, with his hands folded in front of his chest as if he was studying her. She dares not to look up. Merlin knows just how much of a shamble she would find herself in to lock their gazes. Even after all these years of separation, she knew that he’s still the one magnetism her heart belongs to.

But minutes passed and he still hasn’t spoken a word. Her tea was getting cold, untouched for she fears the slightest change of action would make him leave. Though the tension was ripping her apart, she would gladly be stuck in this situation forever if it meant she could keep him around.

“How have you been?”

She looks up, finally gathering enough courage to see him, “You mean lately or the past few years we’ve been apart?”

“Both,” He says with a slight frown “I suppose.”

“I’m doing alright. You?”

“Could’ve been better.”

“Lately or the past few years?”

He smiles, repeating his words, “Both, I suppose.”

She looks down to her tea. This would be the very time for her to find her closure, find the answers as to why he would leave her so abruptly with no warning. Yet now that the universe has aligned them their moment, why is she now feeling scared? Why does it feel like laying on the bed of uncertainty, the one thing she’s found comfort with over the years of his absence, feels like a better course of life than to have her heart broken for whatever reason he might have?

“I know that I owe you an explanation,” He says as if he could read her mind “But I fear that it would only make you hate me.”

“What makes you think that I don’t already hate you?”

He smiles painfully, “Silly of me think that you haven’t.”

“Say we live in a world where I could never hate you,” She whispered, fingers tapping on her tea cup “Would you give me the answer?”

“In that world, yes.”

She looks up, pleading for him to continue in silence.

“In that world I would tell you everything.” He continues “I would tell you everything, give you everything. Hell, I wouldn’t even leave in the first place.”

“Say that is our world, this world. What answer would you give me?”

His gaze softens, guilt and regret seeping through them, “That I was just a boy. I was scared of what our friendship could lead us to.”

She remains quiet.

“We were so close.” He reminisced with a sad smile “There were times when I felt like I was closer to you than George, and he’s always been with me since I first took my breath in this world, yet somehow you overthrone him and it scares me.”

She nods, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not something you should feel sorry for, Love.” He chuckles bitterly “I was afraid you would somehow, in my most narcissistic mind, fall for me. I know that there would be no chance in the seven hells for that to happen, a girl like you falling for a boy like me, hell that would’ve been the most dubious wish I could hope for.”

She frowns, not following where his confession is going to.

“But I was scared that that would happen. I was scared that our friendship would grow into something more and I could never forgive myself if you were to fall for me when I haven’t sorted my feelings out.”

“I see,” She speaks, taking gulps to try and suppress the growing lump on her throat “And have you sorted your feelings now?”

“I have,” He nods, a sad smile still plastered on his face “I have for years but it was too late already.”

“Too late for what?”

“To make you mine.”

Her head now spins. She felt like her ears had lied to her, that her mind had somehow misunderstood his words, for there could be no chance in every lifetime that he would ever reciprocate her feelings. Never.

“I’m sorry that I ruined everything.” Fred says with a shaky voice as if he was trying to bottle his emotions “I’m sorry that I left you, I’m sorry for realising my feelings too late, I’m sorry for making you hate me, and I’m so fucking sorry for being jealous at everyone who gets to spend their time with you because no matter how many times I tried, I can’t stop loving you.”

And there it is. The confirmation that she wasn’t just making the words in her head. That he indeed, is confessing his heart for her.

She places her hands to her forehead, trying to stop the dizziness she’s feeling right now. Everything Fred said was all she’s been praying for but now that she’s heard it, she wasn’t sure what to say. That, and the fact that she still needs to comprehend that this wasn’t just a lovely dream her mind’s playing.

“Please say something.” Fred begs.

“Merlin, I hate you so much.” She sighs, now looking up to meet his saddened eyes “If I had my wand with me right now, you would’ve find yourself in a casket already, Fred Weasley.”

He smiles, “That doesn’t sound like a very bad way to go.”

“Oh, it is.” She nods, scoffing “Because then you wouldn’t know that I’ve been loving you too.”

His smile dropped, blinking as he heard her.

“Now you can hate yourself even more.” She says sarcastically.

“You’re-” He stammers, now standing up rigidly “You’re messing with me, aren’t you?”

“I’m as serious as you are.” She answers, standing from her seat too “So tell me, Fred, am I being serious?”

Fred was at a loss of words. He stares at her with a conflicted look, like desire and restraint was fighting to take over his body. He hesitantly takes a step closer to her and when she doesn't flinch, he closes the gap between them, now standing in front of her with his hands resting on either of her cheeks.

“I’m sorry.”

She squints her eyes, confused, “What for?”

“For what I’m going to do.”

And with that he leans in, sealing their lips together in the most delicate way. The kiss was short but it was enough to fuel both of their aching hearts. They sigh as they break it off, eyes still closed for a few more seconds as they try to bath in each other’s presence. Something that they’ve longed so painfully long for.

“I love you.” Fred says, looking at her tenderly “I would do anything, and I mean by anything to fix us. We can start from the beginning, I could be a friend or anything you like. Just- Please give me a chance to fix this.”

“I don’t know, Fred.” She teases, faking a sad face “You’re cute, but Bill looks so hot now.”

His mouth was agape, gasping at her taunt, “And here I thought you were a loyal friend. Siblings are off limits, you know it!”

She smiles, kissing the palm of his hand.

“Please?” He asked again, whispering his plea “You won’t regret it.”

“Okay,” She nods, cheeks red from the bliss “But only if you promise you’ll kiss me at the podium when we graduate.”

“Yeah, about that,” Fred awkwardly chuckles, one hand now finds its way to the back of his neck “You’d still love me if I got expelled, right?”

[iamafictionfreak]

Having major mixed feelings about RDJ playing Dr Doom, peeps.

On the one hand, I'm like... the Iron Man, is now playing a villain?

Let's not forget that the actor isn't the character, as some people tend to do so. He's playing a different character. But it still feels... sad? Is that the word?

RDJ's Iron Man became a kind of symbol in the real world too, not just in fantasy. Time has been tough on many of us so maybe we dig a little too deeply into our little fantasy getaways, but to have RDJ now embody the villain? Yeah, that's a little... ouch.

And a little awesome.

Confusing too.

Infuriating.

Trouble is, RDJ has a presence and he brought humanity to his Tony Stark role. If they don't get someone to match that level of charisma on the opposing team, if they don't find an actor or actress able to make us empathise with them even when they're being a massive clusterfuck of a hero, or if they make them the embodiment of perfection instead of relatable, then... well, it's a problem. No one's going to root for the new band of heroes if the villain's more sympathetic.

TS will always be RDJ and vice versa. He brings with him Pepper, Happy, Rhodey, Peter etc. Associating the actor with both the biggest hero AND the villain? My brain doesn't know what to do!

Here's hoping whatever he does with the character, or whatever the executives decide, it doesn't disrespect his role as IM.

On the other hand, I can't imagine how pissed Dr Doom fans are knowing that once again, there fav is being represented by the wrong ethnicity.

I had a similar negative reaction to Scarlet Johannsen being cast as BW. I ended up liking her her but it still itches. She didn't even manage the accent!

My expectations need to learn to cool it but it doesn't change how I feel.

Now, RDJ is a great actor. I have no doubt he can pull it off, but MCU near destroyed my love for marvel after endgame and that alongside the shit coming out in the comics in the last few years? The way MCU stopped being a place filled with hope? They'd have to do something truly special to bring me back into it.

Hysterically Deadpool and Wolverine have my blessing because in 3 seconds they brought back some feels. Irondad feels, days of cheesy older marvel movie feels etc.

I like dark stories. I don't need the sunshine and rainbows others do, but we dealt with TS's death, then Steve fucking off in a heel turn decision and creating a plot hole the size California, Peter's worst nightmare coming true and having to live with it forever, don't get get me started on rhodey and Wanda etc...

We're never getting closure or healing for TS's death 😂. We're just not guys. It's not something we can easily accept, if at all. So this whole thing feels great and terrible and awful and nostalgic and brutal and intriguing and and and and...

So, yeah. I get the discord.

But RDJ's great.

But I love Iron Man and his legacy even as I hate that they killed him off.

But Dr Doom's something I've been waiting to see!

BUT LOOK AT WHAT THEY GAVE US IN ENDGAME. WE'LL GET SCREWED OVER AGAIN.

BUT!

WHAT

IF

GUH

Yeah, there's a lot. We shall see.

After all, we're all used to a lack of satisfying closure.

[nisimultifandom]

Red Dress part 2

Warnings: toxic relationships, swearing, slapping, cheating

A/N: Reader is not really able to leave Rafe but she can attempt to

[Edited]

~

After that day you couldn’t help but see Rafe in different, more disturbing light, one that scared you so much you couldn‘t sleep properly and even though a long time has passed and he’s tried to apologise, sleeping in the same bed as him knowing what he’s capable of, was not a pleasant experience.

He tried to initiate sex quite a few times after what happened, but every time he did, you told him you just weren’t in the mood. Even when he started getting really frustrated, he only left your shared bedroom with a huff, opting on sleeping on the couch.

Truth is you were starting to feel bad, but your body just didn’t react the same to him, you were terrified of him ticking of and repeating what he’s done to you, so you did what any person would do, you listened and did everything he wanted you to do but better. Always standing up when he told you, letting him pick your outfits, nodding at every request, staying close to him whenever you two went partying with his friends and letting him hold your hair while you snorted whatever him and topper had to offer . But at some point you were just to tired.

Tired of always walking on egg shells, shrinking into yourself when he looked down at you with his intimidating stare, you didn’t wish to live like that anymore. You wanted to be free, to be with someone who gave you freedom, who you could yourself give freedom too, who was happy when you were happy, and eventually after breaking it of with Rafe, you got it.

JJ was everything Rafe wished he was and more, he was caring and sweet and so so confident, he was handsome and that smirk of his was enough to make a woman faint on spot. JJ was your dream man and you actually thanked the universe for giving you this experience after everything you’ve been through.

Unfortunately, Rafe wasn’t as thrilled about you dating his sworn enemy. At first he left you messages trying to win you back by acting all cute, after a while he realised that won’t work so he started to become really aggressive, threatening you and JJ and promising to get you back one way or another. Eventually he stopped trying to get a response out of you but that didn’t make you feel safer, you were even more terrified.

~

You were at a Party with JJ, hanging on to him where ever he went, and if he noticed you acting weird, he didn’t mention only giving you a soft smile, always holding your hand, trying to give you the feeling of closure and hoping you felt just a little safer.

That did help a little and you kissed his rosey cheek as a sign of thank you. He looked down to you before kissing your forehead and excusing himself to the bathroom. You wished you could ask to go with him, but you did understand that at some point you had to let go of him and have some fun and until now, the danger hasn’t showed himself.

“Please be quick J, I don’t know anyone here” You said

“I’ll be right back don’t worry” You smiled up at him and nodded

After he left, you picked your drink up from the table next to you and gave it a try, the taste of alcohol making you gag, you overdid it with the vodka this time. You put your drink down and looked around the room scanning everyone there, trying to find someone you knew and unfortunately you found him…

He was looking right at you probably hoping to burn a hole through you head with his icy glare. Your breathing stopped for a second and the adrenaline in your body was unbearable, you looked left and right trying to find somewhere to run to, but it took too long as he started to come your way and it was as if your legs weren’t working, cause instead of leaving , you just stood there looking at him.

“Look who decided to show themselves again, didn’t think you would, considering you went ghost on me”

“Normally when people break up, they don’t text each other anymore” you said with a glare on your face

„What, you forgot about me that easily?”

“There is nothing to remember, I’m with JJ and he is everything you wished you were and more” You stated confidently, noticing those dark blue eyes come back, the way they always would before Rafe lost it.

“You want a real man, I’ll show you a real man” Rafe responded before taking a hold of your arm and dragging you across the room and into the parking lot, your attempt at escaping doing nothing but firing him on , when he finally got to his truck, he pushed you inside and locked the door making sure you couldn’t get out.

“Please just let me be Rafe, JJ is waiting for-“ You heard the ringing sound before you felt it, your face moving to the side at a fast pace, a cry escaped your mouth and before you got to soothe your aching cheek he grabbed it aggressively

“If I hear that name coming out of your mouth again, I’ll glue it shut” “you’re mine and you and the rest of outerbanks knows it, I’m taking you home and we’ll have a talk about what happens to disrespectful bitches”

[saphscorner]

Maybe a short Pearlsuma drabble? If that’s okay?

hey anon! since pearl and xisuma have previously expressed some level of discomfort with shipping, i prefer not to write them romantically. i've written a platonic scene instead, and i hope you still enjoy! word count: 645 words pairing(s): pearl & xisuma (platonic) warnings: none general tags & vibes: friendship bracelets, fluff

Spread out on a picnic blanket, Pearl and Xisuma sat across from each other, soaking up the last warm day of autumn. Sunny, clear blue skies painted the illusion of summer’s remnants, and there seemed no better way to spend it than in each others’ company enjoying a much needed rest.

Xisuma clicked his pen idly, twiddling it between his thumb and forefinger as he tapped it against the back of his book. He was alternating between reading and jotting down notes in the margins, occasionally shifting to stretch and readjust. 

Pearl was sprawled on the other side of the blanket, knotting embroidery floss into a friendship bracelet. The small project was secured to her jeans with a safety pin, using her clothing as an anchor point to keep it steady as she continued to build the bracelet down. She was nearly done by then, working through the short untied ends. 

“Would you rather a bracelet or a bookmark for yours, X?” She asked. 

“Oh, that’s a good question,” Xisuma said as he looked up, “I’m really not sure. Surprise me, I guess.” 

“Surprise you,” Pearl echoed back. “Well, alright.” She smiled as she went back to work, tying off and trimming the remaining threads. She fished through her small box of supplies, eventually finding a small plastic clip. She set about securing closures to either end of the bracelet, clipping and unclipping it a few times to ensure the mechanism worked properly. 

“Here we go,” she finally said. 

Xisuma marked his page, closing his book to set it aside. “What did you decide on?” 

“Both!” Pearl answered brightly. She held up the finished creation, demonstrating how it could be clipped and unclipped. “You can wear it around your wrist like a bracelet, or you can undo it and use it like a flat bookmark. Best of both worlds, right?” 

The corners of Xisuma’s mouth upturned in a smile. “Yeah, that’s perfect actually.” He held his wrist out, and Pearl immediately put it on for him. 

“Look, we’re matching now!” She exclaimed, holding her wrist next to Xisuma’s to show off their matching purple bracelets with a little laugh. 

Xisuma admired his own bracelet for a moment, before he unclipped it. He picked his book back up, wordlessly swapping his old bookmark out for the bracelet Pearl had given him. “I love it, really. Thanks, Pearl.” 

“Of course,” she replied. “What’s next then, want me to bead your shoelaces to match mine?” She teased. Pearl uncrossed her legs, extending them to show off the laces of her sneakers that she’d adorned with a few star-shaped plastic beads scattered throughout the lacing. 

“You think I could pull off the look?” Xisuma asked, glancing skeptically at his practical work boots. 

“Oh for sure,” Pearl replied. “Colors of choice too.” 

“You know, maybe. But I’ll have to make something for you to return the favor first.” 

Pearl swept her bracelet materials back into their carrying case. “Really? Like what?” 

“I don’t know yet,” Xisuma admitted. “But just something. You made something for me, now it’s my turn, right?” 

Pearl smiled. “Well, okay. I’m sure I’ll love whatever it is.” She resituated herself, rolling over to lie on her stomach beside Xisuma.

As Xisuma reopened his book, he resecured the bookmark around his wrist into a bracelet, laying the book open in his lap so Pearl could read along with him. Propping up on her elbows, Pearl did exactly that, reading on as Xisuma continued with his reading and annotations. 

Their afternoon continued on in comfortable silence, Pearl and Xisuma simply happy to coexist in the same space together on a sunny afternoon. When the day would be over, they’d have a matching set of friendship bracelets to take home as a lasting token of a day well spent. And maybe one day, they’d just do it all again.

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Bloodhound. (A Ghost x AFAB!Reader fic)

Act One, Chapter Six: Reluctant Admittance

Omg! Who is this?! I'm back and I'm bringing home the bacon! Exams are over and I have about of month of aimless wandering so… yeah :D. I'm currently in the process of decompressing and the effects of stress are finally manifesting after being dormant during exam season... yay.

I hope you all enjoy! I'm trying to get back into the groove so apologies for the lack of eventfulness. I'm also going to apologise for the fact that I very much got into my feelings writing this so brace yourselves.

We all know English is my mortal enemy (despite being my first language) so sorry for grammatical mishaps, I did do me best but things do slip under the radar.

Warnings: Heavy discussions surrounding trauma (particularly surrounding men- I know! I'm sorry!), heightened emotions, threats of violence and strong language.

You were staring at her like she had three heads. It was a tough decision to make: whether to push to continue this conversation or let Laswell be. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you rifled through the various outcomes you had predicted to the different things you could say. You hoped you could be sensitive enough to allow her to open up. She was the only one who understood what you had gone through and vice versa, and you prayed to find something else out of that other than the comradery that came with mutual suffering.

She looked right back at you, knowing full well you wanted to say something, the words dancing on the tip of your tongue, itching to be spoken but chained down by your desperate need to interact correctly. Sighing, she folded her arms and waited for whatever you had cocked and ready to fire her way. 

“Kate,” you began, nervously fiddling with your fingers, praying you had rehearsed this enough times in your head for you not to falter over your words, “have you ever wanted closure? To just, maybe, talk it through with someone?”

Her face softened. She hadn’t expected that… Laswell had anticipated a lecture, a cliche roundabout diatribe which overstayed its welcome, a bout of preaching that was just the other person’s way of saying ‘get over it’. Sometimes things in your head are too heavy for others to handle, too sensitive, they can gross your mates out, and years of that had made Laswell feel like a freak, made her feel disgusting. Occasionally, she’d wondered if what she had gone through had ‘built character’, made her strong, and was the reason for her competence. She had cherry-picked what she liked about her time in the Foundation, the skills it had given her, and had repressed the rest. See enough people pale, enough people grimace, enough people stare at you with their mouths hung open, unsure of what to say, and it makes you feel awfully discouraged to be an open book. If Price knew what she had gone through as a teen, she was afraid he might see her no longer as a colleague but as something else. Something weak. 

She drew in a sharp breath at the thought. 

Men had an awful tendency to want to save, to protect, and seldom listen. Yes, it was a sweeping generalisation, but it was for her own protection. She was genuinely afraid things could change between them. All of them, in fact. 141, most people in her life, were best kept at a friendly but reasonably far distance. 

Closure had been off the table for a while now. 

“Y/N, these things are… difficult to navigate. Right now, it’s all fresh to you. You’re currently running about, hoping anyone, anyone, might hear you out, sit down, and listen to all your pains. You’re craving hope, praying that some guy out there can put your faith back into them…” She let out a shaky sigh. “No one out there ever sat down and listened to me. What we’ve been through is horrific, too much for people to bear. If you find that someone, I’ll be amazed and immensely happy for you but… let’s be realistic, Y/N. We’ll never get closure.”

She put her arm around you and drew you close to her, walking you both back to your beds. Mild anger bubbled away inside you, her infantilising, drab words leaving behind a sour aftertaste.

“We keep practical, and we keep vigilant. Remember that.”

“I get where you’re coming from, Kate.” You turned to face her. “But I don’t entirely agree with you. You and I both know that we’d kill for a confidante, and you could have one! You could have several if you wanted to! I bet you haven’t even tried having a conversation with these guys about your past.”

She sighed and shook her head, removing her arm from you, as you both entered the murky dark of the barracks.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Y/N.”

“Good night, Kate.”

With a slight pout and furrowed brow, you watched her make her way to her bed and fall into it, completely shattered. 

***

You idly prodded at your porridge with your spoon as you did your best to avoid Laswell’s eyes. Soap and Ghost had taken you hostage, placing you firmly between the two of them, across from the CIA Station Chief, with the hopes that you’d start opening your mouth and agreeing with them and that would then lead to Laswell opening up. However, at the end of the day, it was two ordinary men up against an experienced lamia, and what they hadn’t quite caught onto yet was Laswell barraging your mind with messages of strong encouragement to keep quiet. It was extremely tiring, but Laswell thought it was the right thing to do and that was sufficient justification to keep going.

You swallowed hard, continuing to move your food around your bowl, watching blueberries you had once buried under the slop of oatmeal and milk resurface and sit atop their stodgy sea. The silence was so loud, your brain unable to think coherent thoughts as the buzz of underlying aggression filled your skull with apprehensive static. No one was explicitly angry, and that irked you. There was a conversation sitting here that was dying to be had, all someone at this godforsaken table had to do was spit a few words out and get the ball rolling.

Eventually, you found yourself glancing at Price, hoping that maybe the captain could put his authority to good use. The old man wasn’t an idiot, he knew something had happened last night which had yielded breakfast’s… painfully awkward results. Gaz could tell too, but, seeing as yesterday had been a bit rocky, decided it was best to not fan the already hot embers and bring about flames. Price brought his thermos to his lips, eyes narrowing as he watched Soap bore holes into Laswell’s skull. She was returning the favour, of course, sternly looking at the Scotsman, her lip turning upwards at the sight of him bringing you closer to his side.

Ghost was there too and was most certainly a presence that wasn’t overlooked. One could tell that he was positively fuming under that mask, taking a large bite out of his apple as he continued to try and out-stare Kate. The echo of his crunch reverberated throughout the canteen. Despite the backdrop of friendly chatter and clattering cutlery, any sound that came from 141’s table seemed to be thrice the expected volume. Perhaps it was the silence amplifying noise’s presence when she’d occasionally grace the group, or perhaps it was because they were exaggerating the volume of their actions to prove a petty point. Either way, Laswell was not going to go down. Period. She was going to ensure they’d stop their little investigation before it had even started. They didn’t need to know anything about her, bar that she was on their side and that was that. Anyways, it was not like she knew much about them! Especially Ghost. There was a double standard here. He could go about his business being all mysterious and alluring but as soon as he found out that there may be more to her than meets the eye… he felt betrayed like he was Caesar on the Ides of March, and Laswell’s newfound information was nothing but a poorly concealed dagger in his eyes.

“Right.” Price suddenly broke the silence, setting his thermos on the table. “What happened?”

No one spoke a word.

He chewed on his lip, taking a deep breath through his nose.

He looked at Soap.

“MacTavish, speak.”

Soap looked at Kate with a sneer.

“Laswell may be able to provide more information than meself.”

“Fine.” Price nodded, swivelling around to face the woman sitting beside him. “Kate, what happened?”

She shrugged.

“Ghost’s usually the most reliable reporter.”

Price muttered an exasperated curse under his breath, before turning to meet Ghost’s menacing glare.

“Lieutenant, you’re up. Tell me what happened.”

“I left halfway through; I think you should redirect your inquiry back to Laswell.”

Price grumbled to himself, stroking his mutton chops as he slowly looked back at Kate. Her lips were tightly sealed. The silence returned and Price allowed for it as he briefly contemplated on what to do. He could feel Gaz staring at him, awaiting his response to all this as he took a loud slurp of his tea.

“Okay,” the captain announced, “I’m not having any of this. Someone here is going to tell me exactly what is going on and that someone is…”

Like a turret spinning around to select its target, Price’s gaze shifted from Soap, to Laswell, to Ghost and then to you.

“Y/N, why are Soap, Ghost and Laswell eyeing each other like they’re in a Mexican standoff?”

You gulped, looking at all three of them for help on what to do next. Soap sighed and kept his eyes on the floor while Kate was shaking her head, hoping you would keep quiet.

And then, there was Ghost.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to make eye contact with him, knowing full well that he was staring into your soul. He cast a dark shadow over you, his company hovering ominously above as he, whether consciously or not, taunted you with his intimidating presence.

Oh, what do I do?

You chewed on your lip, covering your nervous gesture with your hand as you looked at Price for some form of encouragement.

The urge to spill the beans was building inside you, like a rising scream, making its way up your throat. From a logical perspective, it seemed like the right thing to do, for the benefit of everyone, seeing as 141 needed to be as together as possible in order to remain under the radar and you needed to not surround yourself with bloodthirsty lunatics coming for each other’s throats… for once.

You sighed, setting your spoon down, not even bothering to give it a parting gaze as it sunk into your porridge.

“Basically,” you began, much to Laswell’s chagrin, “Ghost and Soap found some of my, uh, things and it told them some stuff about myself that I wasn’t quite ready to share. It also told some stuff about Kate, here, that she also isn’t quite ready to… share.”

“But it is stuff we need to know,” Ghost added, folding his arms.

“Kate,” Price turned to her, softening his voice a little, “should you and I have a private chat over a cuppa?”

“It’s nothing, John.” She moved away from him.

Price looked at both Ghost and Soap.

“Did you boys have a scrap with just her or also Y/N about whatever happened last night?”

Ghost and Soap exchanged looks before Soap volunteered to speak for the both of them.

“We didn’t have a scrap, sir, we-”

“Was this just between you and Kate?” Price’s voice was harsh, and it took both Soap and Ghost aback.

Was… was he scolding them?

“Pretty much, sir.”

“Okay.” Price nodded to himself. “Suppose this gives me all the more reason to iron whatever the fuck happened last night out.”

That announcement was met with tense silence. Great. Just great. The captain was frustrated by everyone’s reluctance to cooperate, but he couldn’t deny that he was also surprised… particularly surprised by Kate. This was out of character for her, to be stubborn, slightly petty and begrudging: undeniably soldier-like. He turned to face her.

“Kate, if this is something serious enough to make my boys distrust you, we need to hear it. I can’t be having any infighting, especially given our situation.”

Was it that serious? You pondered on that question as you watched Price attempt to have a conversation with her. What had Kate said last night about them… about Soap and Ghost’s reactions?

“They’re just upset that I’m not satiating their curiosity. Anything and everything about me is ‘need-to-know’. And right now, they don’t need to know.”

Regaling her life’s story to them would be indulging them… and that was the last thing an ex-lamia would want to do, indulge them, especially men.

You understood that anger, the resistance burning away in her eyes: she was trying to cover an old wound that had just reopened.

They wouldn’t understand. How could they?

But you could.

“Kate,” you suddenly said, “I can tell them who I am. You don’t have to.”

Her face softened.  “No, you don’t have to. I know you don’t want to. Y/N-”

You smiled.

“Kate. I… I can do it. I want to. If it’ll ease the tension, I’m happy to be an open book. I don’t want my baggage to jeopardise your pack- I mean, group.”

You could tell she disagreed with your diplomatic approach, because, though you had dressed up this action to be something which you were doing on your own terms… in reality, it wasn’t. It didn’t matter to you; however, this was what your life had been, this was pretty much all you had known. You had been bought and bred to be everything and anything the Foundation wanted.

She’d let you off this time, seeing as it was clear you were still shaking off your shackles.

Price was… pleasantly surprised to say the least. He gestured for you to begin. 

Your heart was beating away in your chest at a rate of knots. All eyes were on you. How would you begin? How detailed should you go? 

This could be your chance to prove to Kate that conversation about this worked. You could already feel, despite your slightly unsteady nerves, a part of that weight pressing down on you was being lifted. You weren’t some desperate little child, running around for someone to be your therapist like she had suggested you were last night. You were just brave enough to do something Kate was still working up the courage to commit. 

You exhaled quietly and then opened your mouth to speak. 

“I’m from a place that I can’t exactly disclose… Ugh! Fuck it! I’m from the Foundation. It’s a private facility that houses mercenaries and hires out soldiers like me. I’m what you would call a ‘lamia’. Lamias are an all-female class of soldiers. I have been in the Red Room programme for… over a decade. I’m equipped with the latest standard hepta-plate armour that enables me to stay indefinitely camouflaged… when in working condition.”

You chuckled nervously as you beheld a crowd of blank faces. 

Oh no… They looked like they were expecting more. What else could you say?!

“My blood-source is from the… Kraus line. And, um… Oh! I’m the most recent model of lamia.”

You smiled, hoping that would be sufficient information. Soon, however, that proud grin on your face would fade as the faces before you looked either confused, horrified or simply both. 

“Model?” Soap raised an eyebrow. “That makes you sound awfully like a machine.”

He pointed his spoon at you with curiosity.

“Err…” Your voice got a little shaky. “Well, that’s what I am. I don’t really… I guess I could say I’m the latest version?”

You could tell that wasn’t the response he wanted. 

Price exhaled through his nose, the air whistling a little out of his nostrils. 

“Y/N, you’re an escapee from this ‘Foundation’. Are the people there after you?”

“Most likely.”

“Will they be after us, too?”

“No,” was your blunt reply, “You’re regular military folks, they could care less about you provided you stay out of their way. But I can’t guarantee that which is why I’m not staying here for too long.”

It stung a little but, to Price, in a weird way, that was music to his ears. If the Foundation was feeling like it, like they didn’t give a shit about him and his boys and did not bother them, he could live with that. Although, something felt off about the way you had spoken, like you were an android, reciting a sales pitch to get a customer to buy you. He couldn’t deny the fact that didn’t sit well with him. 

“So,” Gaz tilted his head to one side, “I’m guessing you’ve been at the Foundation since you were a kid?”

“Yep, ever since I was a kid.”

“Have you been… a soldier since you were a kid?” Ghost sounded uncharacteristically tender like he was almost reluctant to ask this question. 

You nodded. 

A shudder ran through him. 

“I’ve been hired out since I was about… I want to say fifteen?”

That shudder ran through him again and looped back. 

You smiled weakly, a little unnerved by the way he gawked at you.

“I’m assuming Laswell was in a similar position to you, now,” Soap remarked, hoping you’d confirm his assumption.

You looked over to Kate. She had a desperate plea written all over her face for you to neither confirm nor deny. Your eyes returned to Soap, who was clearly expecting some form of response.

“Err…” Your lip wibbled a little. “I… mean… You know what? I don’t know if Kate’s story is exactly the same as mine and I’m not going to speak for her. She can… she doesn’t have to… Um… She’s a good person and she’s on your side! Yeah! I…”

You were floundering! You were floundering big time!

Shit! Shit! SHIT!

“I don’t think it’s right for me to say.”

They all watched with puzzled expressions as you shrunk away a little. It was like speaking about a taboo at the family dinner table, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak for her, lest you’d vomit.

Soap shrugged.

“You mentioned lamias being only female,” Ghost muttered, before turning to look at you again, “Are there any male soldiers?”

Murmurings of approval from the group suggested that this was apparently an astute question. To you, however, it made you incredibly sick to your stomach for some reason.

“Oh God!” you blurted out, warranting a few chuckles from 141.

You smiled with them, finding some form of relief in the way they had taken that as a joke. Soon, although, curious silence would return and the burden of having to answer that question had wrapped its fingers around your head; beginning to slowly crush your skull, the pressure building with every passing second you left that question unanswered.

“Yes, there are male soldiers… Um…”

For some reason, you found tears pricking your eyes.

One rolled down your cheek.

You chuckled nervously, wiping it away. However, more trickled down. It was strange. You weren’t exactly feeling anything that was strong enough to bring about tears. And yet, here you were… embarrassing yourself.

“I’m sorry.” You did your best to keep smiling, catching as many tears as you could and swiping them away.

What’s wrong with me?

“Y/N,” Laswell began, reaching from across the table, “you don’t have to say any-”

“Kate, I’m-”

In the blink of an eye, Laswell got up and promptly whisked you away and out of there. Ghost watched your figure shrinking into the distance before you vanished round a corner.

Kate sighed and muttered to herself, shoulders slumping.

You were just like her. A tragic, shattered reflection which, if pieced together, would form her portrait. Every lamia was the same in that regard: the same story, the same stupid story. Enduring the same stupid things, doing all they could to avoid them, but still somehow, being unfortunate enough to end up hurt.

Price’s face screamed concern.

Soap looked over to Ghost, who just stared blankly at the table, feeling immensely guilty.

He had been selfish. Before she had left, he had caught Kate’s eye briefly and quickly avoided her gaze. What if she had been through something similar? He should have known better. He had thrown a pathetic temper tantrum, rolling around in his own trust issues when there was clearly something bigger going on here.

Eventually, everyone had left the breakfast table, the awkward silence growing too much. Everyone but Ghost. He sat there with his head in his hands. He had been there for a while, scolding himself for being an idiot.

“Simon.”

Ghost looked up to see MacTavish was back. He took a seat beside him.

“You alright?”

The lieutenant remained silent, shaking his head, sighing into his hands.

“Simon, you didn’t know. We all didn’t know. Gaz is proper beating himself up about this in the barracks.”

Once more, silence.

Soap bit down on his lip, peering around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Simon’s masked face through his hands.

“Mate, we’ve all been there. Asked the wrong question. It was just a mistake. I’ve done the same with you.”

“I know, Soap. I know.”

MacTavish moved to place a hand on Ghost’s hunched back.

“Have you seen Y/N? Are they okay?” Riley shyly asked, his voice muffled a little by his hands.

Soap shrugged. “I don’t know. I heard crying but…”

Ghost let out a heavy sigh, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Simon! It’s okay! I’m sure they’ll be fine. They probably know you didn’t mean anything by it. I heard Kate having a long convo with Price and it sounded fairly casual. We haven’t done anything bad. Just then or last night.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

Soap laughed.

“That’s a first!”

Ghost turned to him, batting the man away playfully. However, that melancholy feeling returned promptly.

MacTavish sighed quietly.

“I’m gonna go and check up on Gaz. See you in the barracks in a bit?”

“Yeah.” Ghost nodded, “See ya.”

***

“23, you can’t even balance the camera properly!” 72 chuckled, folding her arms as she watched the younger lamia attempt to precariously sit her trusty camcorder on a makeshift tripod of twigs.

“Trust me! It’ll work! Plus, if I make this throw, I’ll have a record…” 23 looked about before lowering her voice to a whisper. “… 89 said that she can keep the SD card safe from them.”

“You serious?”

She nodded, feeling rather smug. However, 72’s face grew dark, a gnawing doubt creeping in.

“What if you get caught?”

23’s smile was quick to fade. She looked to the ground.

“I hadn’t thought about that.”

72 shook her head. “You and I are so lucky we’re not in Unit 4. This shit wouldn’t fly. At all.”

“I count my lucky stars every day.”

“You better be.”

72 sighed to herself, flicking a couple of braids over her shoulder. 23 chewed on her lip as she returned her attention back to her camera set up, quickly jumping to steady the camera as it began to wobble again.

The older lamia caught the eye of Phillip as he was grabbing a blood canister from a duffel bag. They acknowledged each other and the large distance between them. After a few moments of slightly uncomfortable silence, 72 took her leave, crawling back into her tent.

Under the cover of her shelter, she let out a shaky sigh. The girl had forgotten that there was a monster under there, a ravenous, destructive monster. A monster which had almost taken off her younger colleague’s leg.

Phillip felt around for the dip in his mask and slotted the canister in place. Immediately, sweet, sweet vaporous placidity filled his lungs. The man had begun to get a little antsy and knew it wasn’t wise to face Valeria with a hair-trigger temper. He didn’t need to be killing their asset, after all.

He didn’t need to be confronted with a botched job. Not after this second chance. Graves rose from his knelt position on the ground and marched up to Valeria.

“So,” he began, kneeling before her, “any ideas on how we’re going to infect our target?”

“Well, if I’m administering this through a bite, I need to get close and I also need the virus if you want me to-”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He looked down to the ground, shuddering.

“What?” Valeria asked.

“Why’d you have to… you know? I didn’t get that when they made me… this.”

She giggled to herself.

“My dear,” Valeria spoke with a condescending tone, “the Foundation clearly wants this man to turn quickly. I’ve seen it all before. My blood, combined with the filth running through your veins will… ensure their victory.”

Phillip nodded to himself, feeling absolutely revolted inside. And so, he was quick to change the topic to his initial intention for this conversation.

“Didn’t you mention that the Vaqueros are aware of you breaking out of jail?”

Valeria grinned. Her jailbreak was incredible. It was always exhilarating, to be the one with the power. Unlike now.

That had been beautifully done, well planned and really allowed her to have some fun. She had even managed to use those gifts from the Foundation, stopping a poor guard’s heart with her mind, though it did take a lot out of her. As Valeria reminisced, she realised something: lamias were extremely powerful. A mind was at the mercy of her. Think the right thought and someone could be seeing their throat closing up, their own body betraying them, pledging allegiance to her.

She could bend him to her will.

As Valeria looked at him, at that blank mask whose polished surface beheld her reflection, she saw herself pale. That damn uniform made every single one of them look exactly the same. If she looked hard enough, through the layers of armour, she could perhaps make out his face and those eyes.

Had they changed colour yet?

Had they lost their humanity? Lined with black? Had his irises expanded, leaving only slivers of sclera?

Was he fantasising about tearing out her throat right now?

Valeria’s lips thinned into a resigned grin.

No. She wouldn’t be able to get into his head. It was too risky. Press on the wrong part of the brain, induce the wrong impulse and she would find herself torn apart by a very angry wolf.

That was the problem with Arcadian Sons. They were always, somehow stronger.

Fuck you.

“Do you think you’d be up to… provoking them?”

“How so?” Valeria raised an eyebrow.

“We know 141 are obviously hiding out with the Mexican Special Forces. Get Alejandro to put you where you can reach Ghost.”

She couldn’t help but sigh.

“So, you want me to get captured?”

“We’ll get you back out, don’t you-”

SLAM!

A knife went flying and lodged itself in the bark, merely centimetres away from Valeria’s face. They both halted in their tracks, staring at the weapon, shivers of shock taking their time to subside.

Following the course it had taken with his eyes, Phillip’s gaze landed on the figure of 23. Her hand was over her face.

Shit!

Phillip sighed and got up. He reached for the knife, pulled it out of the bark with disturbing ease and then began to make his way to the girl.

23’s eyes grew wider and wider, her heart in her mouth. She wanted to run but was petrified in place. Phillip grew nearer and nearer, his armoured body looking bigger and more intimidating than ever. That knife was in a sure grip, and she watched, breaths growing shallow, as it swung in time with his stride. She shrunk away under his shadow, scrunching her eyes shut. The girl raised her arms in a helpless flinch.

“I’m sorry! I wasn’t aiming for you or the asset, I swear! I-”

“Here.”

Huh?

She looked up at him, confused.

He groaned at the sight of her looking like a deer caught in the headlights. Begrudgingly, Phillip took her hand and placed the knife in it.

“Don’t do that again. Go back in the tent, please.”

His voice was incredibly stern.

She nodded, taking the knife and dashing to grab her camera.

“23!”

The lamia froze, slowly turning around at the sound of his voice.

“Those aren’t made for throwin’. You gotta be an expert in order to get those to land where you want ‘em.”

She nodded.

“Go in the tent. I’ll call you and 72 out when I need y’all and when the boys are back.”

Holy shit.

Valeria watched him walk back towards her, shaking his head and muttering to himself.

What was his ploy?

***

You sighed, staring at the bowl of porridge you had left behind from breakfast. Sitting on the doorstep, the view of the woods just beyond the base directly in front of you, you took a spoonful of your food and tipped it back into the bowl. Tired eyes watched the viscous mixture of milk, oatmeal, newly added honey, and berries drip back into its container. You never thought it’d be so exhausting having to comfort someone, it made you feel guilty how fatiguing it had been to ease Laswell’s tears. 

It hadn’t even been an hour since breakfast, but it had felt like aeons had gone by.

You didn’t even bother to acknowledge who had come down to sit beside you.

“Hey,” Ghost greeted, awkwardly placing his hands in his lap, hoping you’d notice that.

He did his best to make himself as small as possible, slouching a little on his perch on the concrete step. You smiled politely before bringing a spoonful of porridge to your mouth, hopeful that your stuffed face would give him a reason not to talk to you. It wasn’t that you were angry with him or anything, it was just that you weren’t really in the mood for conversation. You felt a little delicate right now and knew that you’d very well be crying again like you did yesterday. Shame sloshed around inside your skull. It was stupid to cry. You weren’t a little kid anymore.

Adults don’t cry. Lamias don’t cry.

You kept your eyes ahead, staring into the abyss of wood and leaves, wondering if the howling you had heard last night was anything to be worried about.

Ghost looked over at you before sighing to himself.

Then, he decided to just bite the bullet, put the words into his mouth and speak.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He began, consciously trying not to sound as gruff as he usually would. “I should’ve seen you were getting uncomfortable and not pressed further.”

Shyly, he looked over to see what you made of his apology.

“It’s okay,” you said, still staring ahead, “It’s not that I was reluctant to answer, I just… I don’t know.”

Ghost nodded, studying you closely. You looked tired, very, very tired, as if you had never experienced a proper rest before. He dreaded to know what you had gone through. However, he also could tell you wanted to say something and get the words out properly, on your own terms.

“Do you…” He did his best to be as tentative as possible. “Do you want to talk about something?”

You nodded.

“I feel like I should talk about stuff. Kate thinks it’s useless, and I think maybe even embarrassing, but it’s not embarrassing, is it? Opening up about past baggage?”

“No,” Ghost replied, “I mean, when it comes to my past, I find it difficult myself, but that’s because I struggle with, um… articulating how I feel about it.”

“Maybe Kate’s the same…” You speculated, scratching your chin in thought.

“Could be. Could not be.” Ghost shrugged. “Everyone’s different.”

You set your bowl aside and leaned forward, cupping your face in your hands.

“I just feel like Kate’s the only person I can talk to, but now it’s like she doesn’t want to talk to me about lamia stuff, about the Foundation.”

Ghost understood the pain you were feeling. Everyone needs that one person to vent to and he had that in Soap and maybe… maybe you could have that in him?

Worth a try.

Yes, you wouldn’t be here for very long, but he knew it would help you big time regardless. He wasn’t a monster and sure, he may be a little cold and stoic at times but if Ghost would want something to be remembered by it was that, despite it all, he was kind. He was good at his fucking job, he was efficient and he was a good man.

“You could talk to me if you like. I know I already offered before but I’m serious, you can talk to me.”

“What if you don’t get it? What if it’s too heavy for you?”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

You sighed, drawing your knees up to under your chin.

“Some parts I may not understand. But I think you’ll find; I may be able to relate to quite a few things.”

You tilted your head to one side.

“Really?”

“We’re both humans, after all. There’s got to be something we both can understand about one another.”

Human.

‘Human’ made you sound like you and Ghost were alike, were one in the same kind. It was weird. You had always been taught that there were men and everyone else. The default and the other.‘Human’ was a word that was advertised as an umbrella term but was really only reserved to describe a select few; and you had been told time and time again, either outright or from what you learned and what you read, be it through diagrams in biology textbooks, language, literature and more. Proper humans, studied humans, humans who could be understood and cared for were not who your kind were.

A shy smile crept onto your face and you watched Ghost’s eyes crease, suggesting he too was smiling under that balaclava.

[the-cooler-vigilante]

thinking about the miles suit redesign, and yeah I like the older version of his suit from Into the Spider-Verse, but I can't tell you how much I appreciate the thought that went into the design of the newer suit. First off, the stripes that go down to the hands go pretty hard, they feel like something that Miles would design. I don't really like the segmented look of the suit, which you can see in some promotional art and/or toys, but the coloring so subtle that it's barely noticeable.

Like the only way you'd notice those small details is by pausing the movie, or whatever video your watching, and even then it's hard to notice.

But the biggest reason I think they went with this design is to highlight the contrast between him and the Spot.

Their designs are simple, but detailed enough to highlight just how different the two are. Miles is mostly black, while the Spot is mostly white. Miles has stripes that are only really visible from the waist down, if you look at him from a certain angle, it's like they're not even there. Spot, on the other hand, is covered from head to toe in those spots, no matter where you look there they are. Miles has two large emotive eyes, while the Spot only has that hole where is face is supposed to be, and even then that hole is still extremely emotive, but there's a different sort of energy to it.

Even though it's very emotive, at the end of the day, it's still just a hole. There's nothing in there. So that's why this shot from the movie is still messing with me.

They're reflections of each other. In a way, yeah, they kind of created each other. But they're both the results of the other's actions having unexpected consequences. I have no doubt in my mind that the Spot knew that what he was doing was dangerous. Working for the Kingpin, messing with the collider, which was rebuilt in what? a couple of days? There was no way in hell that shit was safe. When it comes to Miles though, yeah he might have had good intentions when it came to destroying the collider, but there the consequences are still there, hell that thing tore apart god knows how much while it was self destructing, who knows how many people could have gotten hurt.

But at the end of the day, it happened, and life goes on. Miles didn't know that the Spot existed for over a year. The Spot had nothing but the scars that night at the collider left with him for over a year, and it's not too far of a shot for him to blame Miles for what happened. Hell, it's the only thing he's had going for him for a while, he was actually exited to find and fight Spider-Man, to get some sort of closure for what happened. Couple that with Miles not taking him seriously and casually writing him off until he actually became a "threat" and you've got a pretty menacing villain who's gonna take things way too far.

I can't wait to see what they do with the Spot in the next movie, and I hope that he actually gets some kind of a happy ending. Like he's clearly dealing with trauma in unhealthy ways. I'm not hoping that he comes to forgiving Miles, but I kind of hope that he realizes that getting revenge on Spider-Man isn't going to make things better for him. I kinda want to see him just, explore the Multiverse, to see infinity, find the strangest and most wonderful worlds out there.

[uh-niran-really]

Just want to say, you made me cry with the angst fanfic with the pregnancy and reader dying, I just today lost a dear friend of mine of 7 years because of certain circumstances and just needed something to help me cope and this definitely did the trick but if you haven’t could you maybe write a part two with a happy ending/ scenerio ( maybe the reader didn’t die but was definitely severely injured. I wanna know what happens with there life, does the baby come out looking like Niran does he get to experience<3 whatever you feel. If you don’t mind.)

Hi Anon! Firstly I’m so sorry to hear about your friend. Loss is one of the hardest things I’ve had to deal with. I hope you’re coping okay and that you have a good support system around you. I’m glad the AU could help you in someway and I’m so sorry it made you cry, but hopefully it was more of a release for you.

I intended to keep it as a stand-alone but I felt inspired by your ask so I decided to write something for you. I hope this gives you some closure and good feelings. I’m always around if you ever wanted to talk about anything, or even if you wanted to request something else. <3

Secondly, thank you for being my first request. It’s been such a pleasure writing for you. I wrote this pretty quickly so I apologise if it has any spelling mistakes, ect ect! (I can fix those later!) I hope you enjoy it!

It had been a year since he lost you, the tragic day still playing over and over in his mind. He had gotten a bit of closure since then. Satya was to thank for that. She had actually ran to find Dr Ziegler to tell her about the baby, when Niran broke the news to her. Thanks to Satya, Niran got to meet his child. A child he loved with all his heart, just like he had loved you.

“Aww baby girl don’t cry. Come to daddy.” Niran scooped his. crying toddler out of her cot and rocked her gently cooing. Niran was an amazing father, just like you had always known. He was loving, compassionate and protective. “Daddy loves you Blossom!”

This past year had been hard for him to process. So much pain and hurt, but also joy as he got to care for the child he created with you. Blossom was a sweet child with gorgeous eyes that reminded Niran of yours. She very much looked like him, although Niran would always tell others she looked just like you. She was his pride and joy. His reason for not surrendering himself into madness and grief, although, no one would blame him if he did. He was a good father, anyone could see that.

Blossom was a little overtired this morning, causing her to cry out for her dad. She loved his attention and felt safe with him. He was her light.

“Shhh.. it’s alright my love, you’re just a bit sleepy hmm?” He spoke softly as he continued to rock her to sleep. “Fear not my little princess, nothing will harm you so long as I live.” She was everything to him. After that tragic day, Niran swore to protect his daughter with everything he had.

Soon she settled down, allowing Niran to continue working on his project. He was so close to being able to distribute his Biolight to those in need. He worked tirelessly to ensure his creation could be used by all, free of charge. He thought of you and the way you would bring him tea to his lab, and rub his shoulders when he was feeling tense. He missed having you around so much. He was working so hard for you.

“Niran?” Satya called out. She often came by to check on him and Blossom. She was his rock through it all.

“Oh.. Hi Satya.” He smiled a little and offered her a seat.

“How are you today?” She was concerned for her friend but knew how far he had come.

“I’m… me.” He shrugged. “Life won’t ever be the same without Y/N. But you knew that.” He offered her a warm smile. He appreciated his friend.

Satya nodded her head to show she understood what he was saying. Satya had always liked you. She was curious as to what kind of person didn’t find Niran annoying. She often enjoyed talking with you about common interests and sharing embarrassing stories about Niran from their academy days. Today Satya came to him with something important.

“Niran. I have some news.” Satya spoke softly. She was always careful around Niran now, always choosing her words carefully in fear of upsetting him, especially when it comes to the topic of you. Niran’s eyes shifted over to Blossoms cot, checking on her.

“It’s about… Y/N.” Niran tensed upon hearing your name. Your name was so beautiful, so lovely, so… forbidden.

“Satya..” He started before his childhood friend cut him off.

“I need you to come with me today. You can bring Blossom or I can have someone watch her.” She was being vague, but not intentionally. Niran knew Satya liked go be meticulous with details, so he figured there was more to this she couldn’t say.

“Hmm.’ He hummed, feeling drained. “If I must.”

———————————🪷———————————

Niran had changed Blossom into a pretty yellow summer dress with pink flowers on it, one of his favourites. It made him happy to see her all dressed up and ready for the day. He and Satya had gone shopping for new dresses recently, and my did she have so many. It kept his mind off the pain, when he saw his daughter so happy.

Satya was waiting for her friend so she could take him somewhere. He was curious but also apprehensive.

“What does this have to do with Y/N, Satya?”

“You’ll find out soon Niran.” She blinked at him like he was stupid, because to her, he kind of was. He asked too many questions and it annoyed her. She understood his pain though, better than anyone could have.

Satya created a teleportation portal and encouraged Niran to take a step through, once again ensuring to him it was safe for the baby, like always. Niran stepped through appearing in a lab. The walls were white with blue accents, and grey furnishings. The place looked busy yet had a serene calmness to it. He was in Dr Ziegler’s lab, on base.

“Niran! You made it!” Dr Ziegler called, rushing over to great both him and Blossom. “Oh how you’ve grown!” She cooed softly to Blossom, making her giggle.

“Hi Angela.” Niran smiled softly. “What’s going on? Why am I here?”

“Niran, what I’m about to tell you might be a shock, so I want you to sit down.” She gestured to an office. Niran nodded and handed Blossom to Satya before taking a seat. He was growing more and more concerned by the minuet.

“Please Angela just tell me what’s going on. Is it my daughter? Are there some side effects to her treatment?” Niran worried. “I won’t lose her too!”

“No no, nothing like that.” Angela smiled. She took a seat in the chair across from him. She was shaking a little, Niran assumed it what she was about ti say would be hard for her. “Niran. I’ve been working on a project this past year. That project was Y/N.”

Niran was confused and he felt a little sick at the mention of your name again. He missed you so much it hurt. The thought of reliving those memories again were just awful. Seeing your fragile body laying on the floor as death pulled you away. He dismissed those thoughts from his head and tried to focus on what Angela was saying, although it was really hard. She was giving him an explanation and all he could think about was you.

“Niran, are listening to me?” He snapped out of his daze and looked her in the eye. “She’s alive, Niran.”

Alive. You were alive. He felt his heart skip a beat and almost stop. How was this possible? How could you be alive. His eyes sparkled with tears that threatening to spill.

“Would you like to see h-“

“Where!” He stood up ready to sprint towards you. This was all so much for him but he needed you. He felt like he was going to pass out but he dismissed this feeling in favour of you.

“Niran wait, there som-“

“Angela please!!” He yelled desperately, pleading her to tell him where you were. He needed you, he needed you so much.

“Right down the hall, last door on the right-“

And with that information he took off, sprinting down the hall, despite Angela calling for him to wait. His heart thumped wildly inside his chest. A small part of him doubted this entire situation, but the hopeless romantic in him longed for this to be real. He craved you and the thought of having you back was all that kept him going as he continued to run down the long hallway. Was this real or just a fantasy that he dreamed up in his head? Was it all just one big sick joke? Was he really about to see you. Satya watched as he ran down the hallway, she smiled knowing what he would find at the end of the hallway. She had checked herself to ensure his happiness.

Niran reached the door and hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he could proceed inside, something holding him back. Fear. What if it wasn’t you, but oh what if it was.

“Please.. please be her..” He whispered before opening the door.

And there you were, as beautiful as the day Niran lost you. He could hardly believe his eyes. He stood in the doorway stunned watching as you looked out the window, the sun rays hitting your gorgeous face.

“Y/N..?” He called and you answered all his questions once you turned around and smiled at him. Time stopped for a moment as you both stood there watching the other until time suddenly resumed.

“Niran!” You sobbed. He hadn’t changed at all, in this moment he was your happy and cheerful Niran.

He dashes across the room and scoops you up in his arms and holding you for dear life. You were everything he needed and more. Blossom had her mother back and you could finally be a family.

“Oh my goodness.. you’re so beautiful!” He cried, tears spilling from his face. You giggle at his words and hug him tight. You couldn’t imagine how much this meant to Niran. After so long he was finally with the love of his life. All that pain and suffering had melted away from him and he felt like a bird free from its cagey prison.

“How is this possible..? You died my love.” Niran scanned your body with his eyes looking for signs that could lead him to an answer. You looked as pure as a fresh flower blooming in the spring. Everything about you was unchanged, for the most part.

“Niran.. I.. I don’t have a heart anymore.” You watch his face turn from a smile to a sad frown. He wasn’t disappointed with you or considering a split from you, he was remorseful. He blamed himself. “Dr Ziegler was able to bring me back, I now have a machine pumping my blood around and keeping me alive.. I’m sorry if you don’t want me anymore.”

“Oh my sweet sweet Angel. I couldnt want you more than I already do right now. You have the biggest heart out of everyone I know.. and if you’re missing your organic heart, well, you can have mine.” He lean down and plans a kiss on your lips. He’s missed this feeling. He always loved to share deep and tender moments with you. He thought he’d never get this chance again. “I’ve never stopped thinking about you Y/N.”

You were happy, so happy you could almost swear you felt your heart thumping. Maybe Niran had that effect on you. You loved him so much and he loved you too. This moment was everything he dreamed of.

“I hope I’m not interrupting, Niran.” Satya stood in the doorway holding your daughter who was fussing for Niran. “This one couldn’t stand being apart from you.” She smiled softly and handed Blossom to Niran to took her on his arms and cooed her to settle her down.

“Shhh baby girl, it’s okay Daddy is here my sweet.”

You stared at the baby and blinked a few times. She looked just like Niran. Gorgeous brown irises with stunning platinum hair. Niran smiled at you and offered you the baby. You were confused but remembered your own baby who you assumed you had lost. Your hand went to your stomach as you remembered.

“Y/N, this is our daughter, Blossom.” Niran smiled. He understood your confusion and wanted to help you understand. This must have been hard for you and he knew that.

“Blossom.” You smiled. Typical Niran to name your daughter after nature. It was a pretty name and your daughter smiled at its mention. She gurgled and reached over for you with grabby hands.

“Someone’s excited to meet you hmm?” Niran beamed. This was the happiest he had felt since the incident. You could feel his giddy energy and it made you laugh. You reached out and took Blossom holding her in your arms. She was beautiful, happy and well looked after. He really had done a good job looking after her. You imagined he had some help from Satya or maybe a few others, but you were still so proud of him.

“She looks like you huh.” Niran leaned in and kissed the top of Blossoms head, earning a happy chirp from her.

“Seriously Niran? She looks exactly like you.” You laugh. Of course he disagreed spending a few moments pointing out all the features that reminded him of you. You didn’t see it completely, but it made him happy and that was all you ever wanted for him.

Naturally, Niran didn’t like the idea of you going back on missions. He was mostly against it, but would respect your wishes. He preferred for you to stay home where it was safe, yet he understood if you didn’t want this. The decision was yours after all.

You decided to visit the base as word had spread that you were back and the whole base was ecstatic. Niran accompanied you with Satya on hand to help with Blossom where possible. He doted on you and couldn’t help sneaking you small kisses or hugs. He wasn’t very sneaky however as the whole base could see, but neither of you seemed to mind. Friends commented on his change in personality and how they were happy to see him smile at something other than Blossom. They told you stories of how Niran stepped up to look after your daughter, how he was the best father possible. This made you smile so much. You always knew he would be. Everything was right in the world again. Niran had you back and he was smitten with you all over again. You look at Niran and he smiled at you blowing you a kiss which you caught and hugged close to your chest.

Suddenly he got down on one knee and held your hand. His gorgeous white hair glowing from the sun. His face was soft and wore a look of pure love and adoration. He couldn’t have looked more perfect if he tried. He stared up at you for a few moments, taking in your beauty. Blossom giggled and clapped from the arms of Satya, who had taken her so Niran could focus on this moment.

“Y/N, my sweet and beautiful flower. I love you more than my heart can take. It’s truly yours to have and to hold. Y/N darling, will you marry me?”

“Of course Niran!” You sobbed as you leapt to hug him. This moment was everything for you both. The whole base clapped and cheered. They were all so happy for you. No one more happy than Niran.