radiowallet

[radiowallet]

Ahhhhhhh! How did i miss this???

Hazel! I love them so very much! Javi is such a puppy and I just 🫠🫠🫠🫠

IRL

Part 3 @han_shot_first

JAVI X F!PLUS SIZE!READER

SUMMARY: Set before the events of The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent. Javi and Reader are friends online, and after a year of DMing they decide to meet. (The only change is Javi and Gabriela are just friends)

WORD COUNT: 1800ish

WARNINGS: Reader has insecurities about her size and appearance. Javi is adorable, be warned. Things get spicy.

Part 2

“Girasol,” he whispers; voice husky. Your knees go a little watery not only from the want in Javi’s voice for you but for the sweet nickname, sunflower.

His warm, plush lips taste your mouth, chin, and neck. Tickling behind your ear, you had never kissed anyone with a mustache or much facial hair. It tickles and rasps over your soft skin deliciously, especially your neck, causing your shoulder to jump with a smiling gasp. 

Being pressed against the wall was also new to you like this gorgeous man can't get enough of you and needs to be as close as he can possibly get. One hand is cradling your jaw; the other travels from your hip under your sweater, where he has found that the dress is sleeveless. He hums, pleased by his discovery. You try not to feel emotional and keep the thought - thank you. Thank you for being attracted to me, even though… inside your head. But it brings up some tears that you blink away. 

The moment you open your eyes, the lights flicker, signaling you to return to the theater.

“Javi?”

“Hmmm?” He murmurs, distracted by devouring your neck.

“The next film-”

He pulls away as the lights flicker again. 

“We will pick this up back at the hotel,” he rumbles. 

Javi takes your hand and leads the way to the theater. Since you are among the last to sit, Javi looks and tugs you toward the back of the theater. He noticed your glassy eyes when he pulled away. He wonders if he overstepped.

After you settle into your seat-

“I'm sorry,” Javi looks at you with his puppiest eyes.

“For?”

“Well, I- for,” Javi struggles. “ Maybe I was too forward, and now we don't have good se-”

You smile; Javi really is the sweetest.

“Javi, I have never been so turned on in my life,” you murmur in his ear, and his face breaks into a broad smile, his eyes dancing. 

While the rest of the day flies and is more fun than you've had in a long time, every once and a while, you get a little in your head when hobnobbing with “the beautiful people.” But somehow, Javi seems to feel it every time, and he brings you closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, murmuring a sweet check-in.

Online, late at night, you would talk and talk, and you thought you felt a tension in the last month before planning to meet, but you always half-heartedly dismissed it. And when you saw his picture, you wholeheartedly dismissed it. How can someone like him…but here you both are. He doesn't even see the other women. Javi has at least one hand on you at all times. Holding your hand or on your thigh with his thumb chasing little circles during the films and Q&As, his arm wrapped around your waist during intermission. This new layer to your relationship is exciting, if a little scary. 

All you have been thinking about since the alcove is getting back to the hotel, but as Javi checks you both in, your traitorous brain starts to race; you know Javi is a good guy, he would never just presume, and if you put on the brakes he would respect that…but now that it's here. It's not that you don't want to; you want to, by the gods, do you. But what if he doesn't like what he sees when you are, quite literally, laid bare?

Javi returns with the key cards, his stomach knots in new and exciting ways. 

“It's a two-bedroom penthouse suite,”he murmurs, primarily to his feet. He can feel the tips of his ears going hot, “I got them before - but you know, if you don't - I mean, if we-”

Javi doesn't know what you are thinking. But he can easily see the anxiety scrawled across you. But he doesn't know what has you in this state—

Watching him, you can see his effort. To keep you comfortable, respecting your boundaries, and he keeps showing you he is attracted to you, all of you.

So you tell your liar of a brain to shut up for once, and your first finger goes gently under his chin, tipping his head to look at you. 

“Javi? Please take me upstairs.” 

This is when Javi’s brain short circuits.

The penthouse is, of course, gorgeous, just as Javi hoped. There’s a fireplaced living room, with the spread of chocolate-covered strawberries, soft cheeses, warm crusty bread, and the champagne he asked for on a coffee table. 

“Javi! This is, does this just come with penthouse suites or…”

“There are always, well, ‘amenities,’ but um, I asked for your favorites.”

“When?”

“As soon as you said you’d come to visit.”

“But-”

“I know it was a little bold of me, but I - sort of had this big plan to try to win your heart this weekend. But like I said, I got two rooms, I wasn’t, you know, ‘expecting something’,” All of this comes out in a rush, but Javi takes a breath and slows down, his eyes taking in your lovely face.

“‘Han Shot First’, I’ve been having feelings for you for a long, long time.”

It's your face’s turn to warm, as romantic as his nickname Girasol is, as beautiful as it makes you feel... There's something about him using your url handle at this moment - the name he knew before he had seen your picture… You fling your arms around him, and without hesitation, his mouth seals to yours. His hand goes to your cardigan, peeling it off. Before you can have another wave of anxiety, the groan Javi lets loose as his hands run up and down your upper arms and around your back settles your qualms. He presses you as close to him as he can without occupying the same space, thus defying the laws of physics.

“Girasol”, Javi murmurs. “I can't believe how lucky I am.”

His hands rove your back, hips, and backside. You keep beating back your traitorous brain, so you can just enjoy how this feels. He likes everything he's touching. 

One of his hands comes to the side of your face, holding you tight in his kiss. 

“May I undress you?”

Javi begins unbuttoning your dress, his hands so sure at every button. He pulls back the top of the dress off your shoulders, and his needy kisses travel from one to the other, stopping to enjoy your collarbones and the hollow of your throat. Then he lets the dress fall, a circle at your feet. You slip his blue blazer off his shoulders and start unbuttoning his shirt. You peek back at his face to see adoration.

You nod, and the look he gave you in the alcove returns causes a pleasant zing in your lower belly.

Javi becomes impatient and brings his arms hurriedly out of his sleeves, and pulls you against him once more, his arms wrapped around your waist. With urgent kisses, he walks you backward until your calves hit the bed. 

Giving a yip as you drop onto it, a nervous giggle bubbles up, and you take a breath, eyes closed. Mirroring your action in the lobby, Javi's curled forefinger gently lifts your face to him.

“I am enamored with every inch of you, Girasol. Every last inch.”

Against your will, your eyes swim, so that is where Javi decides to start in his worship. His hands cradle your face, thumbs brush the tears away. Pressing kisses to your cheeks. 

Your hands rest on his narrow hips as you look up at this beautiful man, this silly, passionate, delightful man.

He wants me, you think, all of me.

Your hands travel up his sun-kissed torso, the sweet curve of his belly, but just as your hands settle on his chest, he has your shoulders, pressing them to the bed. And this was that moment you feared, laid out on the bed. Suddenly Javi’s got you behind your knees with those enormous paws of his, and with a quick and decisive pull, he's got your ass at the edge of the bed and thighs over his broad shoulders, and you can feel his breath at your core. 

“Javi!” Breath quickening, you are pretty sure you almost came from being moved like that; you don’t get “thrown around”

Javi's hands run up your thighs, his thumbs massage the crease where your hip meets them  -

“Did you like that, Girasol?”

💚 THANKS FOR READING 💚

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

If you enjoyed this fic and would like to read for Javi or any of my works, click the link to my masterlist. If you would like to get tagged for any of my fics, click the link to my taglist form.

#cat reads #fic rec

[radiowallet]

a thank you

Just wanted to pop in and say a thank you to everyone who reached out both with donations and moral support in dms. It made me so happy to read your messages and words of encouragement so truly thank you 💜💜💜 It's been a rough time but y'all have made it better by a thousand miles!

and if you have no idea what this is about here's my first post here

#signal boost

[radiowallet]

This was so sweet and sexy and the ending had me 🥹

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘

ㅤㅤjoel miller x plus size!f!reader

genre: romance, flowershop au, jackson era, minors dni

word count: 7k

summary: you own a small flower shop in Jackson, when Ellie comes to visit, your life inevitably becomes tangled with the man who cares for her; joel miller.

warnings: age gap, piv in the middle of a flower field, no one sees, praise kink, some angst because joel, oral (fem receiving)

a/n: hello everyone! it's been a while and honestly, life has been kicking me in the gut lately with everything its got.

This originally was a commission, reader had a name and I've been working at it for months but sadly the person who commissioned be backed out last second saying they weren't interested anymore meaning I'm not getting paid for this work. Again, it's on me. Admittedly I've been slow on commissions due to my living situation and work and I should've taken half the payment upfront but trusting it was a joel fic I didn't really take extra precautions.

I decided to share it anyway, and the person who commissioned me said that I could. Any kind of writing has been hard for me to do lately and I really like how this one turned out. But since now I'm not getting paid for this work I decided to take out readers name and make some changes to the overall plot that I was given.

Sadly, I can't take any more commissions at the moment before finishing the ones I have left, but I'd be grateful for any kind of support you guys can give. I need to move out this summer (if I don't, I don't have a shadow of a doubt that my aunts will tell me to leave anyway) and I've been trying to save up as much as I can. Everything just has been a lot lately and I'm feeling anxious about my decisions and lost.

Again, any kind of support is greatly appreciated even tho I know I don't deserve it at this time:

my kofi

**dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

You unlock the door to your quaint flower shop, the antique bell that you found and Tommy fixed chiming softly in greeting. Stepping outside, you're immediately embraced by the warmth of the morning sun, its golden rays dancing playfully on your skin. The air carries the unmistakable scent of spring, a delicate blend of fresh blossoms and earthy notes that fills your lungs with every inhale.

Dressed in a flowing dress, you feel perfectly in tune with the season as you begin arranging the colorful array of flowers on display outside your shop. The fabric of your dress sways gently in the breeze, a soft symphony of movement that mirrors the graceful dance of the petals.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and tilt your face towards the sky, basking in the gentle caress of the sun's rays. Above you, the cerulean expanse is dotted with fluffy white clouds, their shapes shifting and morphing with each passing moment.

With practiced hands, you arrange the blooms with care, each stem finding its place in the intricate tapestry of colors and textures. The vibrant hues of the flowers contrast beautifully against the backdrop of the weathered brick walls of your shop, creating a scene that's both inviting and enchanting.

As you work, you can't help but smile at the thought of the joy these flowers will bring to those who pass by. It’s been hard adopting to a new and broken world, but ironically, you have found your passion. Something to make you eager to get up in the morning. Of course your heart still ached for those you had lost, the suffering, but working on flowers, something living and growing and adapting just like you managed to lighten the weight on your heart. Whether it's a simple bouquet to brighten someone's day or a thoughtful arrangement for a special occasion, your creations have a way of spreading happiness and light wherever they go.

With the last of the flowers arranged to perfection, you step back to admire your handiwork, a sense of pride swelling within you. With a contented sigh, you turn to head back inside, ready to greet the day with open arms and a heart full of gratitude.

That is, until, you hear a surprised gasp. 

“Holy shit—” 

Turning around at the sound, you're met with the sight of a familiar face. A young girl you've seen around town quite frequently. You haven’t officially met her yet, but you know her name: Ellie. 

Realizing that the young girl has never visited your flower shop before, you understand the source of her surprise. With a warm smile, you approach her and greet her by name. "You're Ellie, right? Tommy's niece?"

Ellie nods enthusiastically, her eyes bright with excitement. "Yeah, that's me! Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I've just never been here before. The flowers are... fucking amazing—"

She suddenly claps a hand over her mouth, looking towards you apologetically. The gesture makes you laugh.

"I'm glad you like them," you reply, feeling a sense of satisfaction at her reaction. "Feel free to take a closer look if you'd like."

Her eyes light up at the invitation, and she eagerly follows you inside the cozy flower shop. The atmosphere inside is warm and inviting, with shelves lined with potted plants and bouquets of flowers in various stages of bloom. Sunlight filters through the windows, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating the vibrant colors of the blooms.

As you lead Ellie further into the shop, you can't help but notice the curious glances she casts around, taking in every detail with a sense of wonder. The air is filled with the subtle fragrance of flowers, a delicate scent that lingers in the air and adds to the charm of the space.

"So, Ellie," you begin, breaking the comfortable silence as you approach a display of freshly cut flowers, "Anything you like? I’d be more than happy to gift you some."

Ellie's eyes sparkle with excitement as she looks around the shop. "Really? But there’s so many, how can I even choose?"

"Well, you're in luck," you reply, gesturing towards the colorful blooms around you. "I can just make you a bouquet of everything. Just pick out your favorites."

Ellie's gaze drifts over the display, her expression thoughtful as she considers your question. "Hmm, that's a tough one, they all look so fucking cool," she muses, her brows furrowing slightly in concentration. "How about sunflowers and. . . daisies? There's just something about them that feels... I don't know, hopeful, I guess."

You nod in understanding, a fond smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Sunflowers are a wonderful choice. They symbolize warmth, happiness, and positivity. Definitely a fitting choice for someone as vibrant as you, Ellie."

She grins at the compliment, "Thanks,. So, what about you? Do you have a favorite flower?"

“That’s a tough one, but I’d had to say daffodils. They just make me feel right at home. . . even though home has become a difficult word.” 

She doesn’t answer you, at least not in a way that you would expect. She nods and says,

"Let's add some daffodils to the mix too. If that’s okay.”

“If course it is. I said any flower didn’t I?”

With Ellie's choices in mind, you set to work gathering the blooms she selected, expertly arranging them into a vibrant bouquet. Your hands move with practiced precision, the gentle rustle of petals and stems filling the air as you weave the different flowers together.

Each blossom is a work of art in its own right, vibrant hues mingling together in a harmonious dance of colors and textures. Sunflowers, with their golden petals reaching towards the sky, stand tall and proud at the center of the bouquet, symbolizing warmth and happiness. Daisies, with their delicate white petals and cheerful yellow centers, add a touch of innocence and purity to the mix. And finally, the daffodils.

Beside you, Ellie watches with rapt attention, her eyes shining, "It's so pretty," she remarks, her voice filled with awe.

You smile at her words, feeling a sense of pride swell within you at the sight of her delight. "Flowers have a way of bringing joy and beauty into our lives," you reply, your voice soft with reverence. "They remind us to appreciate the simple things and to find beauty in the world around us."

Finally, the bouquet is complete, a stunning masterpiece that radiates warmth and joy. You present it to Ellie with a flourish, a sense of satisfaction washing over you at the sight of her delighted expression.

"It's perfect," Ellie exclaims, her eyes shining with excitement as she admires the bouquet in her hands. "Thank you so much. This is amazing."

"It was my pleasure," you reply, your heart swelling with happiness at her words. "I'm glad you like it. And remember, if you ever want to learn more about flowers or need some help with anything, you know where to find me."

Ellie nods eagerly, her enthusiasm infectious. "Definitely. Thanks again. This means a lot."

As Ellie turns to leave, a sudden thought seems to strike her. She pauses, her hand on the door, before turning back to face you with a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Hey," she begins, a playful smile dancing on her lips, "do you need a flower assistant? I mean, I’d be nice to work here, and you seem really cool."

"Well, Ellie," you reply with a teasing grin, "If you're serious about helping out around here, I'd be more than happy to have you on board."

Ellie's eyes widen,. "Wait, really?" she asks, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You mean it?"

You nod, your smile genuine as you reassure her. "Of course. I could use all the help I can get, especially during busy times. And besides, it'll be fun having you around. Consider yourself officially hired as my flower assistant, Ellie."

A grin spreads across Ellie's face, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the prospect of working alongside you in the flower shop. "Wow, I don't even know what to say," she admits, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. 

"No need to say anything," you grin. "Just don’t be late."

As Ellie nods, a sense of anticipation fills the air, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in both of your lives. With a shared sense of excitement and determination, you and Ellie set to work, ready to take on whatever challenges and adventures the future may hold for your blossoming partnership.

The next day unfolds with a golden hue, promising another beautiful day in Jackson. As you prepare for the day ahead, a sense of excitement tingles in the air knowing that you'll be mentoring Ellie, your newfound flower assistant. Ellie arrives earlier than you expected, her eyes oozing with sleep.

"Good morning, Ellie," you greet her with a warm smile, gesturing for her to come closer. "Ready for your first day?"

Ellie grins back, nodding enthusiastically. "Absolutely. I’m just not used to waking up so early."

With a chuckle, you lead her to the work table, where several potted plants await repotting. However, before diving into the day's tasks, Ellie's curiosity gets the better of her.

"How do you find all these flowers?" she asks. "I mean, with the infected and everything, it must be hard."

"I have a few spots outside of Jackson where I like to go to collect flowers. There's a field not too far from here that's brimming with all sorts of blooms."

Ellie's eyes widen and you can tell she's intrigued by the idea of venturing beyond the safety of the town's walls. "That sounds amazing," she breathes, her voice filled with wonder. "Do you go there often?"

You nod, a fond smile playing on your lips as you recall the countless trips you've taken to the flower field. "Yes, whenever I need to restock or find something special," you reply. "But I've also started growing some flowers myself. It's a work in progress, but it's been rewarding to see them bloom."

"That's so cool," she exclaims. "I'd love to see the field sometime, if you're up for it."

With a grin, you nod, "I'd be happy to take you," you reply. "But for now, let's focus on getting these plants repotted. We'll save the field trip for another day."

As if on cue, the shop door swings open, and a customer steps inside, a worn backpack slung over their shoulder. They approach the counter with a friendly smile, their eyes scanning the colorful array of blooms on display.

"Good morning," you greet them with a smile, your attention shifting to the customer. "How can I help you today?"

The customer returns your smile, reaching into their backpack to retrieve a small item wrapped in cloth. "I have something to trade," they explain, placing the item on the counter before you.

You unwrap the cloth to reveal a delicate piece of jewelry, a handmade necklace adorned with intricate beads and charms. It's a beautiful piece, clearly crafted with care and attention to detail.

Ellie watches with interest as you examine the necklace, her curiosity piqued by the exchange taking place before her eyes. "What are you trading for?" she asks, her voice filled with curiosity.

You glance at Ellie with a smile, impressed by her keen observation. "Well, Ellie, sometimes customers trade items in exchange for flowers," you explain, turning back to the customer. "It's a way for them to get something they need while also supporting the shop. As for how I decide what the flowers are worth, it's based on a few factors—like the rarity of the flowers, the time and effort it took to grow them, and of course, their beauty."

With a nod, you accept the necklace, carefully placing it aside before selecting a beautiful bouquet of flowers to offer in exchange. As the customer leaves the shop, their smile brighter than before, you can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you've made another person's day a little bit brighter.

“Ellie, I’m not sure me bargin’ into your new workplace is the best introduction,” Joel says.

“You’ll be fine,” she says, dragging Joel by the arm. “Besides, weren’t you the one grumbling about not liking me spending all my time with a stranger? What else was I fucking supposed to do?”

Joel lets out an elongated sigh. “Language.”

He can’t see it, but he knows she’s rolling her eyes at him. The tiny, rundown flower shop soon comes into view and Joel can’t help but think of all the improvements he could make: the crooked step, the splintered door, the moss growing from the bottom of the woody exterior—

This shop won’t last next winter, he thinks with furrowed brows. And even though he’s been skeptical about Ellie spending all of her time here, he’s seen the improvement in her mood. Things just haven’t been the same since their return from the hospital, he couldn’t shake the distant feeling between him and her no matter how hard he tried. It had become something even he couldn’t fix.

But then, one day, she’d come home with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d ever seen, with a wide smile plastered across her young face. Then she mentioned the keeper of the shop. Ever since then, his interest had been piqued.

Approaching the shop, he notices a figure outside arranging flowers, your silhouette bathed in the warm morning sun. You appear younger than he anticipated, your beauty catching him off guard. The way your dress contours your curves adds to your allure, a sight unexpected yet captivating. A gentle breeze tousles your hair as you work, momentarily leaving him speechless.

Contrasting his hesitation, you bound up to the shop with your usual cheerfulness. "Hey there!" Ellie calls out. The woman turns at her greeting, a genuine smile gracing her lips as she sets down the flowers. "Good morning!" 

He hangs back, observing as Ellie effortlessly initiates a conversation with you. Your interaction flows with ease, suggesting a familiarity beyond your brief acquaintance.

While you chat, an unsettling feeling settles within him. There's an inexplicable pull towards the shop owner, despite his attempts to resist. Watching Ellie interact with you stirs a strange longing within him, leaving him more unsettled than before.

Before he can dwell on his thoughts further, Ellie snaps him out of it. "Joel, don’t be a stranger! Introduce yourself, she's the one I've been telling you about."

With a sigh, he steps forward, his approach cautious. As your eyes meet, a peculiar sense of recognition passes between you, as if you've crossed paths in another life.

"Hi," he manages to say, his voice gruff yet not devoid of warmth. "I'm Joel."

As he clasps your hand, a spark ignites between you, a connection unfurling with each passing moment.

“Joel?” you say slowly, as if tasting his name in your mouth. “Joel as in Tommy Miller’s brother?”

Your hand feels soft and delicate as it clasps his own, and he can't help but notice the subtle tremor in your fingers. It's a small detail, but it speaks volumes, hinting at a vulnerability that he hadn't expected from this beautiful stranger.

"Yeah, that's me," he responds with a nod, offering a friendly smile in return. "Tommy's my brother."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Joel. Ellie speaks very highly of you."

As you exchange pleasantries, he finds himself drawn to the warmth in your gaze, a warmth that seems to seep into his very soul. There's an openness about you, a genuineness that he finds both refreshing and disarming.

While you talk, he can't help but be captivated by the way your lips move, the gentle cadence of your voice. It's a strange sensation, this sudden fascination with a woman he's just met, but he finds himself unable to look away.

Your conversation is interrupted by Ellie's playful interruption, and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from you, feeling a pang of disappointment at the thought of leaving your side. But as they follow Ellie into the shop, he can't shake the feeling that meeting you has stirred something within him, something that he can't quite articulate.

Entering the shop, he can't help but notice even more things wrong– the creaky floorboards, the peeling paint, the flickering lights overhead. It's evident that the place is in dire need of renovations.

Despite the less-than-ideal surroundings, Ellie's excitement is contagious, and he finds himself getting swept up in the moment. She points out various flowers, their vibrant hues and delicate petals bringing a welcome burst of color to the dreary environment.

"These lilies are my absolute favorite," Ellie exclaims, thrusting a handful of flowers towards him with a mischievous grin.

He can't suppress a surprised sneeze as the pollen tickles his nose, and they both dissolve into laughter,and momentarily, all his concerns seem to fade away.

But just as they're catching their breath, you enter the room, your presence once again capturing his attention. There's something about you that intrigues him, a warmth and kindness that draws him in effortlessly.

A sheepish smile spreads across his face as your eyes meet. You return the smile, your gaze gentle and understanding, and for a fleeting moment, it feels as though you're the only two people in the room.

“Who helped you fix the place up?” Joel asks you as Ellie runs off to change the water of the vases. “

"Tommy actually," you explain. "He's been a tremendous help, especially with all the repairs."

Joel’s brows knit together and he ignores the way your smile falters as he speaks, “Well, leave it to my brother to do a shit job. This shop won’t last next winter.”

“O–Oh. . .” you hug yourself, thumbs moving along the contours of your arms. His heart sinks in, leave it to him to make someone feel bad.

“Not to say it can’t be fixed,” he continues abruptly. “I can help you out. Wouldn’t want Ellie’s new favorite spot to get buried under the snow.”

“Really?” you gasp, smile returning. “You would do that?”

“‘Course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just. . . I just wasn’t expecting such an offer thank you. It means the world to me.”

Suddenly Joel feels stiff from how deeply you stare at him, and then he realizes how close they are, only a breath away between their lips. He turns his head, grunting, “Don’t mention it,” a stuttered breath leaves him. “Really. Don’t.”

Your growing smile surprises him, as does your not backing away.

“You got it, Mr. Miller.”

Watching Joel work on fixing the roof of the shop, you can't help but feel a flutter of warmth stir within you. His muscles ripple with each movement, his arms bulging with strength as he lifts heavy beams and hammers nails into place. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, catching the sunlight and creating a halo of light around him.

You find yourself mesmerized by the sight, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him. His white tank top clings to his chest, damp with sweat, and the short-sleeved flannel he wears hangs open, exposing the tank top underneath. Every movement sends a shiver down your spine, and you can't help but feel a flush of heat rise to your cheeks.

The sound of his grunts fills the air, low and guttural, and it sends a thrill through you that you can't quite explain. There's something primal about the way he works, a raw energy that draws you in and leaves you feeling breathless.

You watch as he reaches up to adjust a beam, his muscles flexing with the effort, and you can't help but imagine what it would feel like to run your hands over his warm, sweaty skin. The thought sends a shudder coursing through you, and you quickly look away, feeling flustered and embarrassed by the intensity of your thoughts.

But no matter how hard you try to focus on something else, your gaze keeps drifting back to Joel, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. And as you watch him work, you can't help but feel a strange sense of longing stir within.

But for now, all you can do is watch and admire from afar, content to bask in the warmth of Joel's presence as he works tirelessly to repair the roof of the shop. And as you watch him, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over you.

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself with determination as you clutch the bowl of freshly picked black mulberries and raspberries in your hands. With a quick glance up at Joel, who is perched precariously on the ladder, you gather your courage and make your way outside.

"Hey, Joel!" you call out, your voice tinged with nervousness as you approach the ladder. "I brought you some fruit and iced tea. Thought you could use a break."

Joel looks down at you with a grateful smile, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. "Thanks. That sounds great."

As he descends the ladder, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. With each step he takes, you steal glances at him, unable to tear your gaze away from the sight of him.

But it's when he reaches the bottom of the ladder and stretches upwards to take the bowl of fruit from your hands that you feel your breath catch in your throat. The movement causes his tank top to ride up slightly, revealing a sliver of his stomach, and you swallow thickly at the sight.

As Joel settles down to enjoy the fruit and iced tea, you find yourself drawn to the empty spot next to him on the porch. With a nervous glance in his direction, you take a seat beside him.

The warmth of the wooden porch beneath you contrasts with the cool breeze that sweeps through, and you can't help but feel a sense of calm settle over you as you sit beside Joel. The silence between you is comfortable, broken only by the occasional sound of birds chirping in the distance.

“Lovely day, ain’t it,” Joel takes a bite of the freshly picked black mulberries, the deep purple juice stains his lips, a stark contrast against the ruggedness of his features, and you find yourself mesmerized by the sight.

The juice glistens in the fading sunlight, tracing a vivid trail along his lips as he savors the sweetness of the fruit. Each movement of his jaw seems deliberate, each bite a study in pleasure as he indulges in the simple pleasure of the moment.

A soft breeze rustles through the trees, lifting strands of his hair and sending them dancing in the golden light. But your gaze remains fixed on his lips.

The silence and sight makes you light-headed and eager to say anything, no matter how idiotic it might be. 

“Aren't you a little old to be doing this much heavy lifting?” 

“Aren't you a little too young to be lookin’ at me like that?” 

Your shoulders rise, blood rushing to your head as you look down. Your heart thuds loudly in your chest. Butterflies flutter madly within you, the wings tickling the insides of your stomach. You only swallow. “Your lips are stained from the mulberry.” 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.” 

He takes another one, biting down with his lips, he finds your gaze. You watch a tiny drop go down his chin. The two of you are close. So incredibly close. It’s been like this since he started working on the shop. A pull that is too hard to ignore. 

“Well,” he breaks the silence. “Better finish up before the sun sets.” 

Joel stands and your heart breaks a little. You blink from where you’re sat, staring at him, yearning for him. 

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want you trying to find your way home in the dark.” 

“You know, I could’ve come here on my own. I always do.” 

“I know. Just wanted to make sure you have someone lookin’ after you.” 

“For someone to be known as a grump, you’re quite a softie.” 

“I’m leavin’.” 

“No—!”

Your fingers close around his arm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you find yourself frozen in place, your pulse quickening as you realize just how close you are to him.

Joel's gaze meets yours, and you can see a flicker of something in his eyes, something that makes your heart race even faster. His eyes drop to your lips, lingering there for a moment before snapping back up to meet your gaze. You notice the hints of a fading smile, “You were joking,” you say slowly, letting go of him. 

“That I was, wildflower,” he doesn’t move away and neither do you. Your breath catches within your throat, the moment stretching between your two like rubber. Before you can say anything Joel’s eyes flicker to something behind you and he smiles. “I think we’re here.” 

As you turn around, your heart skips a beat. The field of flowers stretches out endlessly, a sea of color and beauty that seems to go on forever. The grass has grown taller since the last time you were here, swaying gently in the breeze and creating a soft, rhythmic rustle that fills the air.

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the landscape and setting the flowers ablaze with color. Reds and yellows, blues and purples, a riot of hues that dance and swirl in the gentle breeze.

You take a step forward, the grass crunching beneath your feet as you walk further into the field. The scent of poppies and blue hyacinths fills your nostrils, sweet and intoxicating, and you can't help but close your eyes and breathe it in.

The wind sweeps across the field, sending waves of grass rippling in its wake. The sound is soothing, a gentle whisper that seems to carry you away on a tide of tranquility.

For a moment, you forget about everything else – the worries and the doubts, the uncertainties and the fears. All that matters is the beauty of this moment, the beauty of this place, and the beauty of being here with Joel. 

With a rush of emotion swirling within you, you turn to Joel, your heart pounding in your chest as you meet his gaze. He's still standing close, his eyes locked on yours with an intensity that takes your breath away.

Without thinking, without hesitating, you lean forward and press your lips to his. At first, Joel is taken aback, his body stiffening in surprise. But then, he caves, his lips moving against yours in a slow, tender rhythm.

His hands come up to cradle your face, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he lets go. You feel his tongue on your bottom lip and open up for him eagerly, the taste of him feels like electricity shooting through you. Heat pools between your legs, Your breasts tingle with the mere thought of having his hands on them, nipples aching and hard. 

Joel breaks away briefly, then closes the distance again. Small hisses against your swollen lips over and over until neither of you can breathe. He hungers for it almost. And so do you. “Joel,” you whisper, eyes cloudy. “Please.” 

“Is that what you want, wildflower?” he drags his nose down the side of your cheek, facial hair scratching delightfully against the sensitive skin of your neck. “For me to fuck you here? Right out in the open?” his voice trembles. “Like animals?” 

“God, yes—” your insides clench. “I would want nothing more. Been thinking about you since the day I met you, your hands, your mouth, you as a whole.” 

His hands drop to your ass and he gives the tender flesh a strong squeeze, “You want me?” 

“I do.” 

You suddenly find yourself on the ground, the grass tickling your exposed legs and arms, the skirt of your dress rolled up to your waist. Joel’s weight is a welcoming comfort on top of you, another gust of warm wind blows. With a groan, he pulls down the sweetheart neckline of your dress, exposing both your breasts. While holding one, he kisses the other, drawing the stiff nipple into his mouth. He sucks harshly, your body jolting with pleasure. The soaking mess between your legs grows. 

“Joel,” you moan, back arching. “Fuck—” 

He swirls the tip of his tongue around the nipple and grazes his teeth against it. Calloused fingers play with the other. Your mind is swimming in pleasure. He brings the skirt of your dress further up and traces his lips down the fabric, when you look down, you see him between your legs, his eyes darker than normal as he stares into your soul. The tips of his fingers dance along the elastic of your panties, asking for permission. 

You breathe out a yes, barely audible, but he nods and tugs the fabric down. When he latches his mouth on to you, the world stops. His mouth feels divine. His tongue delves between your folds, the bridge of his nose rubbing against your clit. You shudder against him and he moans into you. The reverberations of the sound force a gasp out of you and you swear you feel him smiling. 

His fingers trace patterns along your thighs, teasing and stroking as his mouth works wonders between your legs. You're on the edge, the pleasure building up with each flick of his tongue. You reach down and bury your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, guiding him where you need him the most.

Joel picks up the pace, his tongue moving faster, his fingers slipping inside of you. You can feel your body starting to tighten, the coil in your stomach about to unravel. You grip onto him tighter, your hips bucking against his mouth, and with one final flick of his tongue, you come undone.

You cry out his name, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm. Joel continues to lightly lick and suck, drawing out your pleasure until you're completely spent. He makes his way back up to your lips, kissing you deeply as you both catch your breath.

“That was…” you trail off, unable to find the right words for the mind-blowing experience you just had.

“Amazin’,” Joel finishes for you.

You nod, still a little breathless. You wrap your arms around him, pressing your body against his. Joel's hands roam over your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine. You can feel his erection against your thigh, and you know that he needs release just as much as you do.

“Been so long since I’ve tasted somethin’ this sweet,” he rasps. “Thank you.” 

You hear the blood rushing in your ears, “You’re the sweet one,” you mumble, tenderly touching the scratchy surface of his cheek. “So sweet.” 

He smiles and as he kisses the curve of your palm, shuffles above you, starting to get up. A deep frown forms between your brows. “And where are you going?” you pout, wrapping your arms around him. You feel the outline of his length as he lowers himself once more, the tips of your noses brushing against one another.

“I thought you wanted to gather some flowers.” 

“Not yet,” you murmur, eyes glazed. “At least, not before feeling you inside me.” 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he lets out a whimpering breath, grinding himself against your bare cunt. “You really know how to get a man goin’.” 

“Prove it.” 

His eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t quite describe. His breath stutters, then, without even looking, he unbuckles himself, never breaking eye contact. Joel’s hair ruffles with the wind, yet he doesn’t even blink. The head of his cock catches against your clit, ripping a moan from your throat. He fills you with one sloppy thrust, the length of him stretching you enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 

“Joel—Oh my god—” 

“That’s it, good girl, takin’ my cock so well. Feels good?” 

Slack-jawed, you nod. He goes deeper. “Want you to feel me for weeks, wildflower. And I want you to think of me every time you come to this god—” thrust. “—damn” thrust. “—field.” 

You can only moan at his words, his hands grip your lovehandles, squeezing and pulling you closer to him every time he rocks forward. His head falls into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive skin, he sucks. Your body convulses, shaking against him. 

Sparks ricochet through every limb of your body as you feel the heat pooling in your core. Joel moves his hand from your lower back to cup your breast, his fingers teasing and plucking at your nipple. The pleasure ricochets through your body, making you feel like you're on fire.

“Come for me, darlin’.” Joel growls into your ear, his voice rough and primal. “Come on my cock.”

His words send you over the edge, your body shaking and convulsing beneath him as he continues to thrust into you relentlessly. The world blurs around you, all your senses consumed by the feeling of Joel's body against yours.

"Joel—" you moan, your voice lost in the wind as you reach your peak. 

He groans in response, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his own release. After one final, deep thrust, he pulls out and spills over your stomach, his body shaking against yours. You both ride out the waves of pleasure until finally, you collapse against each other, panting and spent.

You lay in the flower field, a tangled mess of limbs and sweaty bodies. Joel's arms are still wrapped tightly around you, his face buried in your neck as he tries to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of his body.

"I've never felt anything like this before," you say quietly, almost to yourself.

Joel lifts his head to look at you, his eyes softening. "Me neither, wildflower. Me neither."

As the sun begins to set, you both lay there, entwined in each other's arms. The field has become a symbol of something more than beauty. And as long as those flowers bloom, you know your love for each other will continue to grow.

A week. 

A week without hearing from him, seeing him, touching him. 

A painful week. 

It’s almost as if he never existed. As if the moment in your favorite field was nothing but your imagination. The only reason why you know it's real is because Ellie still comes by every day, and despite knowing it’s impossible, you still feel him deep inside. It only heightens whenever you have to travel back to the field to gather flowers for the shop. 

You watch as Ellie places more daisies into a vase. She’s been her usual self, joking around, telling you about all the details of her life. It’s hard not to ask her about Joel and how he’s been. 

Some nasty part of your mind whispers words of discouragement, telling you he only wanted you for your body, for your charm, and got what he wanted. Your heart clenches. It might be true. You were young after all, emotional, broken. He’d already gone through all that, killed to stay alive, for loved ones, gone through grief—why would he want to take on another’s problems as well? 

“Hey, Ellie?” 

She turns to you, eyes slightly wide due to the rasp of your voice, “Yeah boss?” 

“Can you watch the shop for a second, I have something I need to do that I forgot about.” 

You don't wait for her nod as you exit the shop. You know he’s home. He has to be. 

Luckily it doesn’t take you long to reach their house, your knock is loud and swift. You know you’ve taken him by surprise by the expression when he opens the door. His mouth is slightly ajar, his brows knit together. 

“What are you—” 

“I came to talk,” you brush past him, heading inside. Joel lingers at the door but soon after follows you inside anyway. 

He sighs, “What do you want to talk about?” 

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. "Us," you reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside you. "I need to know what happened, Joel. Why you've been avoiding me."

Joel's jaw clenches at your words, his gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "I ain't good for you," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "You deserve better than someone like me."

You feel a surge of anger rising within you at his words, frustration bubbling up to the surface. "That's for me to decide, Joel," you say, your voice tinged with defiance. "I'm not some fragile flower that needs to be protected. I can make my own choices, and right now, I choose you."

Joel's expression softens slightly at your words, but there's still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "You don't know what you're saying," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm a mess, a broken man with too much blood on his hands. You deserve someone who can give you the world, not someone who can barely keep himself together. You’re young. You still have so much ahead of you—"

“No! That’s not what I want. I want you, you’re the only person who’s made me feel like. . . like myself. . .before. And wanted.” 

Your voice begins to shake, you see the hesitation within his body, hod his hand slightly moves forward to hold you, to touch you, but he doesn’t. 

“I can’t do this to you,” his hands slide into his pockets, he gestures to the door. “Get out.” 

The blood freezes in your veins, your eyes grow wide, your chest constricts, “What?” 

“I said to get out,” he repeats, a little louder this time. “Get out, please.” 

And you do. 

“You need to get your shit together.” 

“Language, Ellie, dammit.” 

She glares at him from across the table. It’s an early morning, earlier than he’d liked. He’s been feeling hallowed out ever since your visit. He could see the hurt in your eyes, the betrayal. He knew that he’d broken something when avoiding you, something tender and not so easily fixable. 

But what was he supposed to do? You were young, he didn’t want to trap you, didn’t want you to throw the best years of your life for an old man like him. 

Briefly, he squeezes his eyes shut. His head hurts. All he can think about is you, your body, how eager it was to take him, the delectable curves he couldn’t get enough of. 

He misses your taste on his tongue. 

“She’s miserable too, you know.” 

Joel’s eye snap wide open. “Who?” 

“You know who,” she shakes her head. “I don’t know what happened between you two, but she’s definitely upset and so are you—Just fix it. Don’t be an asshole” 

He let’s out a sigh, she’s right. He needs to fix this somehow. Joel stares at Ellie, her words hitting him harder than he expected. He hadn't realized just how much his actions had affected not only you but also Ellie. The weight of his own guilt settles heavily on his shoulders, a constant reminder of the mess he's made.

"Yeah," he mutters, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

He runs a hand through his hair, the tension in his muscles making every movement feel heavy and strained. He knows he needs to make things right, to somehow find a way to mend the rift he's created between you and him.

But how? How could he possibly make things right after everything that's happened?

"I'll talk to her," he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll fix it."

Ellie nods in approval, her expression softening slightly as she looks at him. "Good," she says, her tone gentle. "Because I don't want to see either of you hurting anymore."

She was right and he knew it. 

“The shop’s closed today,” Ellie says as he grabbed his jacket. “I don’t know where she is.” 

But he did. He knew exactly where you would be. The place he tasted you, the place he felt your body against him. 

Joel's heart sinks as he approaches the flower field and sees you sitting there, your shoulders hunched over as you hug your knees to your chest. He can hear your sobs from a distance, the sound echoing through the quiet morning air.

For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of what to do or say. But then, with a heavy sigh, he pushes aside his doubts and makes his way towards you.

As he draws closer, he can see your whole body trembling with the force of your emotions. His heart aches at the sight, knowing that he's the cause of your pain. He kneels infront of you, gently touching your wrists.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's me, Joel."

You startle at the sound of his voice, lifting your head to look at him with tear-streaked eyes. For a moment, there's a flicker of surprise in your gaze, followed by a wave of raw emotion.

"Joel?" you choke out, your voice thick with tears. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you," he says, his voice filled with regret. "I couldn't stand the thought of you hurtin’ like this."

"I thought... I thought you didn't care," You sniffle, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. 

Joel reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and tender. "I care more than you know," he says. "I made a mistake, a big one, and I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t want you to. .  .I didn’t think I deserved someone like you."

"I missed you," you admit softly, tears still streaming down your cheeks.

Joel's heart clenches at your words, a rush of emotion flooding through him. Without hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you bury your face against his chest.

"I missed you too, wildflower," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "And I promise, I'll do whatever it takes to make you happy."

He hears the smile in your voice. 

“You already do.” 

#thank you for sharing this Sil #cat reads #fic rec

[radiowallet]

♡ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟏𝟎𝐤 + 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 ♡

I am so happy to finally be making this post, I've reached 10k a while ago but didn't have the chance to thank y'all properly so;

thank you

I am forever grateful to everyone who has supported me, read my work, reblogged, and sent asks even when I haven't been around as much as I wanted to. I really wanted to do something special but due to work and my living situation, I don't really think I can but believe me when I say I appreciate each and every one of you! 💗💗💗

As for updates, I'm still within the pedro fandom so I haven't left or anything, when I get the chance I still write for it, it's just now that my time has been very limited--on my days off I don't enjoy being at home due to my aunts and their odd behaviors, which means usually I try to find a way to leave, taking extra shifts even when I'm tired and etc because it's just been so stressful and anxiety-inducing for me to stay. Even when I do they stress me out and I end up shutting down all day. The night before yesterday I had a breakdown, cried all night, and had urges to cry during the day. I'm not sure why, but something just snapped inside me.

My series are all still ongoing and I'm working bit by bit, though I'll probably work on a couple of one-shots (your girl has so many filthy ideas) first when I do manage to sit down and write.

Writing is my biggest comfort and release and the fact that I can't do it right now has been draining me even more. I miss my blog and all of you guys and I'm trying to be more active right now because I just miss my little corner so freaking much.

That being said, I need to move out this summer and I've desperately been trying to save every penny I earn. I appreciate any kind of support that you can give and reblogs are appreciated 💗

#signal boost #one of the best

[radiowallet]

In another life I write Hazbin Hotel fanfic. I’m sure of it.

[radiowallet]

Ohhhhhh how I love them. How patient Joel is. But still so so filthy. Just 🫠

V ║Raw Edge

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part IV: Notch | Behind the Seams: Part V | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E, a proper E!

Summary: One lazy afternoon, Joel tests your patience.

Warnings: Sexual tension, some language, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, flirting, fingering, explicit grinding, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 2k

Notes: It's been a long and winding road y'all, but I'm finally back with an update on the main series. It is a short one, more of an interlude, but it will get us where we need to go for the next chapter. Thank you for your patience, I don't take you guys' understanding and love for granted for even a second. Releasing this during the Seams sleepover, more drabbles coming your way for the remaining month of March!

Raw edge - the raw, raveling, and unfinished, cut edge of the fabric.

It’s fitting that Joel is a patient man. He’s built for it, after all.

Those broad shoulders, the sturdy thighs, his sure hands - he’s steadfast as the mountains that loom over Jackson.

As the sun shifts over the ridges and valleys of the sierra through the seasons, bringing shadows into light, so does Jackson on Joel, and you learn that he’s many kinds of patient.

On lookout duty, even in the depths of winter, he becomes one with the stillness of the night, patiently watching over the safety of the town in the loneliest hours.

When townsfolk stop him on the high street for neighbourly chit chat, he obliges with polite patience, never rushing, but careful not to encourage conversation that is longer than necessary.

With Ellie, when she prattles on with a long-winded story from school, he listens with amused patience, letting her run her half-full mouth over dinner with half-hearted admonishment.

And with you - he is agonisingly patient with you, and yet, never in a way that leaves any doubt of his want for you.

You cannot be more grateful.

And in turn, you’re patient with him. As the green of summer softens with the tail end of the season, you pick up bits and pieces. You hear whispers of names. Tess. Bill. You glimpse ghosts of his past. Sarah. Frank.

You don’t expect him to, but you have the audacity to hope, that one day, if he finds it in him to let you in, you have shoulders to spare.

When the heat fades and the brisk autumnal chill starts to linger in the morning mist, you start to find that you like it when he’s not patient.

Not necessarily for the lack of patience thereof, but the fact that it’s worn thin by something else.

The way heat bleeds into his eyes when Lcuy holds you up after your shift ends, fingers twitching, as if the caveman in him wants to grab you and drag you home, where you have planned on dinner - and more.

When you’re two bodies tangled in your sheets, breath short as he kisses his way down your neck and nips the underside of your breasts, bra cups pushed up only halfway because you’re still too shy to take it off completely. You feel him shudder, nails digging into your skin, nostrils flaring like he’s holding back from ripping the scant fabric off of you.

And late one evening, when you ask him for it, in heated whispers and your lower lip caught in your teeth, he oh so patiently works his fingers inside your wet heat - 

One, then two; 

Slow, then fast; 

Tender, then frantic - 

Until he feels you clench tight around the crook of his fingers for the first time, watch you arch clean off the bed, he bares his teeth and lets out a primal growl at the cry of his name on your swollen lips.

You find the thrill in getting under Joel Miller’s skin.

As the fall deepens, and trees start to shed in golden surrender, you’re caught off guard when he turns the table on you.

You don’t see it coming, your desperation, that lazy afternoon. It’s just another Saturday when Ellie is on her shift at the Outfitter with Lucy, and Joel is spending those free hours with you.

You’re not sure what got him into the mood, but the man is relentlessly teasing that afternoon, almost bratty in the way he toys with you. His hands go everywhere while you’re cooking, squeezing the swell of your ass then going north to cup your breasts, and stopping off everywhere in between.

Tips of your ears burning, you smack the back of his hands - so big and mapped with veins - just so you can get drain the pasta. Joel chuckles and kisses the corner of your mouth. ‘I like it when you’re bossy, sweetheart.’

He insists on eating on the sofa, with you between his legs, and you can feel him already hard and straining through his jeans. Neither of you really make a real go at the rapidly cooling marinara, and the plates are quickly pushed to the side as them meal degenerates into a full-blown make out session.

Not yet ready to let him strip you bare or for him to disrobe him completely, clothes hang half unbuttoned and unzipped on you both. The part of your brain that still has enough blood to reason likes it though - the demure flashes of skin under creased fabric, blindly touching and feeling where you can’t see.

Your jeans are pushed halfway down your thighs, bra pushed down under your breasts, the elastic straps digging into your shoulders. His shirt is open down to the second last button, bare chest rubbing against your nipples, the contact making you whine. His belt hangs open and his jeans are unzipped, but before you can reach down, his fingers slide inside your panties, twisted and sticky, teasing your wet folds. 

‘Joel,’ you whimper as he pushes two thick fingers inside you to the knuckle, your pussy slickly opening around him. 

‘Does that feel good, sweetheart?’ he asks, mouthing at your collarbone.

‘More,’ you gasp.

‘I got two in you already -’

Your voice cracks in a sob, your nails digging into his back. ‘Joel, I want more. Please.’

He glances at the clock ticking away on the wall and hesitates. The rational part of him knows that he has to leave in less than twenty minutes to pick up Ellie. But feeling you leak onto his fingers, pushing your hips against him to get his fingers even deeper, his cock twitches painfully hard in his pants.

He breathes through his nose to steady himself. ‘Sweetheart, we don’t have time -‘

‘Joel!’ you whine, almost petulantly.

He stares down at you, eyes wide at your desperation. He’s never seen you like this before, and fuck, he wants to give it to you. Wants to give you what you want, what he wants. What he’s wanted for long fucking months, woken up hard and throbbing dreaming about. But he steels himself - no, not when he’s on the clock, he won’t rush it. He will give you what you deserve, and not an ounce less. 

So he kisses you, long and deep, and bargains with you. ‘Listen, sweetheart, we can’t right now - but if you want to, we can try something new.’

‘Ok,’ you reply without hesitation.

A sharp breath catches in your throat when he eases his fingers out of you, and he brings them up to his mouth to lick them clean, his brow furrowing at your taste, thick on his tongue. Then you watch, transfixed, as he pushes his unzipped jeans down with his boxers, kicking them off his ankles - and his hard cock springs free of its confines. 

It’s taken you many months to drum up the bravery to map his body with your touch, and you’ve mostly done so in the safety of darkness, your shyness holding you back. To see all of him, jutting hard and thick in the stark afternoon light, you don’t even hear yourself whimper at the sight.

Joel holds your gaze as he slowly wraps his fingers around the swollen length and strokes himself, lips parted, watching you watch him. ‘You trust me, sweetheart?’

‘Yes.’

‘Gonna make you feel good, ok?’

His words make you squirm beneath him. ‘Ok.’

Grabbing the base of his cock, Joel shifts, looming over you and pushing your thighs apart so they’re bent at the knees to accommodate him. Then with a delicate finger, he traces under the seat of your panties and pulls them to one side, baring your spread pussy to his eyes. 

Your jaw goes slack the same time Joel bites out a filthy fuck. You know this is the first time he’s laying eyes on you there - you’ve been demure about that, preferring to be nose-to-nose with him while he buries his fingers inside you. But now, watching his eyes go black, nostrils flaring, an inexplicable high goes to your head, and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

His eyes fly to yours, and your lips part. Did he see that?

Before you can find out, Joel moves, and you hold your breath when he bows his head right where your legs are splayed open. Distracted by the beautiful chisel of his nose from this angle, you would’ve jumped right off the couch if not for his hands holding you in place when he dribbles spit onto your clit.

You cry out wordlessly, not understanding the visceral reaction of your body to the unexpectedly lewd act.

‘You’re plenty wet for me sweetheart, but this will feel even better,’ he says, spitting again, lower this time, and you tremble at the unfamiliar sensation of the wetness trailing down your folds. 

Tracing a thumb over you, Joel makes a low noise of satisfaction in his chest when it glides over your lips, frictionless. Taking a hold of the base of his cock, he positions the underside of his length in the seam of your folds - and thrusts. 

‘Joel!’ you whimper as the full length of him glides over the lips of your spit-wet pussy, from entrance to clit. He braces himself over you, and you hang onto his impossibly broad shoulders as he carefully rolls his hips, again and again. Rubbing along you just so, making sure you feel all of him despite not being inside you - that will have to wait.

You can feel your panties getting wetter, sticking to your skin, and Joel jolts a gasp from you when he roughly tugs the fabric hard to the side, baring more of you to his drunken gaze, witnessing the mess he’s making of you.

‘Listen t’ you,’ he slurs through gritted teeth, the lewd, wet slide of skin filling his ears. ‘Gonna sound even sweeter when I make you mine, sweetheart.’

With a whine, you arch off the couch, as if chasing the possessiveness in his words. Joel finds a rhythm that has the swollen head of his cock grinding against your clit with every thrust, and above you, he smears open-mouthed kisses over the secret spots he’s patiently unearthed by trial and error, until you’re shaking all over. It’s just what you needed, what you wanted - the elusive more that you didn’t know how to articulate. More than his fingers, but not yet ready to take everything that he can give you.

‘You’re close,’ Joel says, a quiet confidence to his verdict that coaxes a whine out of you. Holding a thumb over his cock, it presses even harder against your clit. His hips quicken in pace, and you know he’s chasing his own release as much as yours. 

‘It’s ok sweetheart, you can let go, let me feel you cum for me, let me feel that pretty pussy -’

And then you’re gone. Any illusion of control over your body is just that, an illusion, when the bubble bursts. White hot pleasure burns through your bloodstream, tendrils of heat blooming and swelling from deep inside you, spilling out your fingertips twisted tightly into his graying curls. 

Over the rush of blood in your ears, you hear Joel stutter fuck, fuck, fuck! before warm cum gushes over you, pooling in your belly button, spilling down your pussy and streaking your thighs. 

Limbs heavy and eyelids drooping, it’s hard to care when the cum stains your panties or the couch below. Not when Joel wraps his arms around you, lips brushing the nape of your neck softly as he brackets you from behind. 

Clinging onto the last vestiges of consciousness, you murmur, ‘You have to pick up Ellie soon.’

He grunts. ‘The little punk can wait.’

You smile, struggling to feel apologetic that the teenager might be waiting a while as Joel’s breathing slows, whistling softly by your ear. 

In the quiet aftermath, his words echo in your head. 

When I make you mine. 

Little does he know, he doesn’t have to - you’re already his.

Notes: Time has really flown by since the last main series update. I've gone through so many ups and downs since, and I really need to thank you guys for giving me the time to figure things out in terms of my writing and how this story will go!

As I mentioned in Behind the Seams: Part V, I have 2 more full length chapters planned for the main series. I don't know if there will be any more after that, but at the very least, I hope that I will be adding to the Seams universe through drabbles and oneshots. I wouldn't write off the possibility of more chapters to add to the main series if I find the inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter ❤️

#cat reads

[radiowallet]

Hi Cat! I was searching for Funny Girl and saw it was taken down and my heart sank… but then I saw the announcement about you publishing it!! Congratulations, that is soooo exciting and I can’t wait. Life got in the way and I never did manage to catch the last chapter, so I’ll be first in line to buy it when it’s out.

This might be odd… but my book club is reading a book right now that was published in April 2023, a full YEAR AFTER you started Funny Girl on here… and the story is so close! I’m only part of the way into it, but all I can think of is your Dieter. What the hell? It’s called Romantic Comedy and is literally about an SNL (called TNL in the book) writer and a guest host.

You wrote Funny Girl first! And your published book isn’t coming out until this year… did this author rip you off??

I hope this isn’t upsetting in anyway-your writing is superior and I hate to think someone took your idea and published a best seller 😭😭😭

Regardless, your Funny Girl (tumblr version) was complete perfection, and I have full confidence that your upcoming version will be a masterpiece!

❤️❤️❤️😘😘😘

Lola!!!! Hi my friend! It’s so good to hear from you!

Thank you for the support in The Funny Girl. I’m actually working on edits now (it’s due to my editor in a couple weeks).

I have heard of Romantic Comedy! It’s been on my TBR for a while but I didn’t want to read while I reworked Funny Girl into a useable story. But rest assured, nothing foul is going on at all. Publishing a book traditionally takes years so chances are the author of that book had pitched it long before I ever thought of FG. Are you enjoying it? I can’t wait to read it!

I will say, after seeing there was another SNL themed book out there, it did give me an opportunity to make big changes to The Funny Girl that I’m so happy with. It’s a different story than the one you remember, but hopefully you still enjoy it and the love I’ve given to it.

Thank you again for this ask. It made me smile ❤️

[radiowallet]

jellyfish are so crazy. no heart no brain no bones just vibes

[radiowallet]

good morning yall it’s a beautiful day write about Pedro characters fucking fat people 💜

#yup

[radiowallet]

Oh I love this. So sweet and comforting ❤️

Please Mister Please

JOEL MILLER X F!READER (nicknamed)

SUMMARY: You can't seem to escape that one song even after the apocalypse. Joel and Ellies friendship brings you some comfort, and maybe Joel is interested in more.

WORD COUNT: 1700ish

WARNINGS: None to speak of. Unless you need one for soft Joel. As always, if you see something I've missed, let me know in my DMs, and I'll add it.

A/N: Just a little something inspired by the Olivia Newton-John's song of the same name. (She was in her country music era) It's hardly edited, written on my phone, and Imma just yeetin' it out there. Oops. It's just the usual fluffy hurt comfort. But it IS my first go round with Joel. I hope you enjoy it! 💚

The jukebox was found on a supply run at some honky tonk out Fort Collins way called Sundance something or other. You laughed at your original thought, which was it's wasn't one of those new ones with CDs, realizing "those new ones" were now 40 years old... but this one was truly an antique, with vinyl in it and everything.

A Wurlitzer in all its chrome, brightly colored bakelite, and satisfying push button glory.

You shake your head now, thinking you should have known the moment you heard. Everyone was so excited. Because, of course, they were! How fun is an old timey jukebox full of country-western ballads, anthem, and line dance classics?

It brought an energy into Jackson like you hadn't seen before it. You got here early on, and watched its evolution from place where people were merely surviving to an industrious hive of busy bees, creating abundance but there wasn't much room for joy and then out of the clear blue sky - line dancing. At first they couldnt keep it plugged in all the time, it was turned on for a half an hour at the end of the day, until they had a good handle on the dam and power plant was working consistently. You're sure it was the inspiration for Maria's attention to holidays and socials after seeing the excitement and morale lift from it. Suddenly, y'all were living, not just staying alive. It seems silly, with so much real life and death shit to deal with, to get so hung up on one song, but it carried so much weight for you, you just couldn't shake it. If only it wasn't so sweet, if only it wasn't so catchy… Maybe people wouldn't have noticed it among all the other tracks. But it was sweet and catchy, and about making it after all the shit they'd been through...

So naturally, at five songs for a quarter, it ends up in the mix at some point. (It's the only reason the town has any coins. Paying it could have been bypassed, but dropping the 25¢ seemed to be part of the fun.) So when you least expected it, it would start to play, and so far, it continued to flip your stomach and make your eyes glass. And think about how he and you didn't actually make it.

Joel and Ellie have been in Jackson several months now. Ellie dove right in, school, taking care of the horses afterward, trying to socialize. She's funny and eager. Joel started helping Tommy right away, but it seemed to you more to keep busy than to join the community. He's wary and taciturn. When they weren't in those organized work times, they stuck close. When Ellie ventured into social activities, Joel let her go, but he was ever watchful, with Ellie checking in often even just a look over her shoulder, just to see if he was still there. He always was. They reminded you of a bonded pair of strays.

You run Catnip's Apothecary. They've come in twice, once when Joel brought Ellie in for a poison ivy rash and once when Ellie brought a very grumpy Joel for inflammation in his knees Ellie found all your jars of tinctures, teas, herbs, and powders fascinating. Asking what everything did, looking at drying plants hanging from rafters in wonder, pspspsing the cats.

“Are you a witch?”

“Ellie!” Joel admonished, but looking at you for a tell. Were you? You could see him wondering.

You laughed, sure you were, but what they were seeing here was hardly witchcraft, just herbalism, mostly. Joel and Ellie are both bright and observant - you're pretty sure they both noticed you didn't answer.

Tonight, Ellie is at the rec center, a movie theater for the evening, awaiting the start of none other than Star Wars.

Where did they find all these 70s flicks? Nevertheless, A New Hope's a great find. You can't resist going, even though you know it by heart, and you'll have to force yourself not to recite all the dialogue. Sitting smack dab in the middle, surrounded by all these kids and young adults, seeing it for the first time, you munch your popcorn and smile.

You don't see Joel, but it's not like you are actively looking for him… just curious, given their perhant to stay together and you figure he will know the movie too, maybe he's more of a Trekie. When you catch Ellie's eye, she waves animatedly and moves to sit beside you.

“Sssoooo, you're like one of the only grown ups here.” there is a gremlin glint in Ellie’s eye.

“Yeah, I thought there'd be more nostalgia watchers-” you said a little sheepishly. “ But it's okay, I'll see it with a soon-to-be New Generation of Star Wars Fans. Bear Witness!”

“And what if it sucks?”

The noise you make is somewhere between an indignant scoff and a gasp of purest offense. But you rally.

“Oh just you wait padawan-”

As quickly as the lights go down the attention commanding drums of the 20th Century Fox fanfare begin.

“Oop here we go! Buckle up, buttercup!!”

You live vicariously through the new audience for the next two hours, and it is a pure joy.

The young people of Jackson laugh at the Laurel and Hardy comedy stylings of Threepio and Artoo, they eat up the “though she be little she is fierce” snarky spirit of Princess Leia, gasp at Alderaan's fate and Obi Wan's sacrifice, cheer at Hans return, hold their collective breath when Luke turns off his targeting device to use the force, and burst into applause when he makes the one in a million shot, womp rats in Beggars Canyon be damned.

“Aw man I really hope we can see Empire some day,” you say as the credits roll.

Ellie is elated, peppering you with questions about the sequel and then Return of the Jedi and you do you best, not wanting to spoil too much if she actually gets to watch it.

“I'm this way,” she says as she peels off from the town center, “see ya!”

You head toward the Tipsy Bison, to join the adults most of which took advantage of the kids being off at the movie to do a little drinking and dancing.

The spring has brought high spirits, and with it bright chatter and the stomp of line dancing in progress. Grabbing a spot to watch, you order yourself a drink. When the song ends, there's hoots and applause, and the next one is slow and sweet, and it only takes the first note for you to feel the drop in your belly.

Joel saw you come in, he had seen you from the street actually, when the community center emptied after the film, he had his eye out for Ellie and saw her come with you, talking animatedly and laughing. He smiled. You were his age, he guesses, not only from both the smile and worry lines but your points of reference when talking, only missing references that are local to growing up in Texas. It's comforting, you remember Before. You also have a light he can't get enough of, you didn't confirm nor deny but he is sure you've enchanted him witch or not. He's just been to, shy isn't the right word... he just hasn't been able to make any sort of move.

Now you sit alone, a moment ago smiling tapping to the music. He had been taking in some liquid courage, in the form of whiskey, to ask you to dance. But the light in your eyes is replaced with a shine, not in the way he loves. He's seen this a couple times, he realizes. Times when your eyes go far away and a sadness descends on you.

He gets up and checks the jukebox, taking note of the song. He's pretty sure he's right. He can't bypass a song on a jukebox, nor can he tell a DJ to change it. But he's gonna talk to Walt the barkeeper, first chance he gets.

Then he does his best to saunter over to your little table, drink in hand. He's pretty sure his sauntering days are over.

“Hey Catnip, can I sit?”

You look up wiping your wide eyes.

“Oh, sure, Joel, please,” your smile tries to reach your eyes, but it flickers and can't stay.

“So," joel starts, he's not good at this. He's gotten better but, “You're Still the One, huh? For me it's Vince Gill- When I Call Your Name ”

You just look at him, and he starts to think maybe he hasn't improved at all.

“I don't know that one, it was kind of a fluke that our song, his song was a country song. It's not my usual genre.”

“Well it wasn't my lady and my song, it was the song that I listened to after she left. Sarah was so little. I felt so lost in those early days. Now I can't even hear the open-”

“Opening chords,” you finish with a chuckle, “yeah, I can't- and now of course it all wrapped up in the Before Times, too. But here it is, in a jukebox of less than 200 songs, the one song that represents my husband walking out on me before the shit hit the fan.”

“I can't even picture anyone leaving you with nothing but a song.”

“Yeah, well, I can picture it quite clearly. I can't imagine someone leaving you with a little baby girl to raise.”

“We are in the same boat, darlin’ until it happened I would have been with you on that. We were very young, 22, she panicked.”

“Aren't we a pair?”

“Why don't this pair go for a walk then?”

Joel holds his breath, looking into your lovely face.

“I'd like that.”

Standing, Joel holds out a hand to guide you up and out of the bar, it settles comfortably on your lower back, the song long over. His hand tingles and theres a flutter in his chest at being allowed to touch you this way.

It smells like petrichor, though the skies are clear. Joel's hand leaves your back to your chagrin, but he gently holds out his elbow, and with a crooked smile you slip your hand in the crux of it.

“Such a gentleman.”

He smiles and brings you to the newly constructed, yet to be painted, gazebo.

You climb the handful of steps and look at the town from this new vantage point.

Behind you, Joel comes close, his hand casually on your hip, like you did this everyday. His mouth close to the shell of your ear and a quiet hum floats in, the controlled breath tickling, you smile knowing the very apt song choice,

“Are you making fun of me Joel Miller?”

He chuckles, then the words over take the hum -

“Please mister, please, don't play B-17

It was our song, it was his song but it's over

Please Mr. please, if you know what I mean

I don't ever wanna hear that song again…”

Joel turns you, arm around your waist, his other hand sliding into yours -

" I'd sound a bit better with my guitar, but when we couldnt dance, so-"

He starts a simple box step, as he sings quiet and low, just for you, while turning you around the gazebo.

You join in singing whispering in his ear the chorus when it comes again. It feels cathartic. Then you step back - who is this man? Not the guy who came in with a little girl, a gut wound that should have killed him, poorly healed knuckles, and the weary eye of someone who is always waiting for the other shoe to come down on him. But look at him now, those brown eyes wide but the little crease between his eyes holding his concern. His jaw soft, making you take more note of his natural pout and the salt and pepper scruff, the little spot that just won't fill in, it looks like a heart… you wonder if it's as soft as it looks and if he'd let you touch it to find out.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING 💚

Please consider commenting and reblogging. If you are interested in reading more of my writing, you can find my masterlist here. If you would like to be notified when i post more work, you can find my taglist form here.

#cat reads

[radiowallet]

I love these messy idiots so much.

This made me think of Dieter and Poppy 🎨 I can see Dieter absoutely taking care of her sore feet as he listens to her talk about her day 🥰

dieter x f!reader (nicknamed poppy) word count: 1341 content warning: 18+ blog; established relationship, sweet creature universe, foot massage, mention of food, massaging with foot, foot job— FJ (is that a thing?), slight begging on dieter’s part, praise (one use of good boy), poppy being a menace this go around, Poppy is readers nickname, no descriptive features given for reader, let me know if I forgot anything notes: thank you @kteague for sending this. I was like “oh this is so perfect and cute” but then my mind started wandering and this happened… oops!

“Ugh— I’m so glad parent teacher conferences are over.” You groan as your body collapses into the plushness of the couch. “No more late nights or dealing with parents who think their children are too perfect to get less than an A on their tests.”

“Can’t be that bad.” Dieter says as if he’s the one partaking in these meetings.  

He holds out a white paper carton of warm noodles and chopsticks from your favorite takeout place from where he’s sitting on the opposite end of the couch. You gladly accept, your mouth watering as you  settle back into the pillows. 

“Ha! Can’t be that bad? I had one parent this week tell me her son needs to stay late sometime next week because she has a date and won’t be able to pick him up. I had to explain to her that I’m not a daycare.” You mumble out between a heaping pile of noodles, suspended from your mouth to the chopsticks. 

“Did she offer to pay though?” Dieter asks before taking a bite of a crispy roll. He nods, approving of the flavor as he inspects the contents, then shoving the rest in his mouth. 

“You’re ridiculous!” You playfully kick his leg resting on the couch, he’s quick to grab for your ankle before you can pull away, his thumbs instantly kneading into the arch of your foot. “No, she didn’t offer to pay. But she was offended when I gave her the number of an actual daycare.” 

“Could be good money if you ever considered. So, did they ask about me this week?” Looking down at where his hands continue to massage out the stress you’ve been under dealing with nagging parents over the course of the last week.

The achiness is quickly exchanged for a more enjoyable pressure. Dieter’s foot rubs and takeout at the end of a long work week is a ritualized experience you always look forward to going into a relaxing weekend.

“You know I thought something was off! Not one kid asked about you. They must have forgotten who you are— shame.” You smirk at him over the carton of noodles. 

“What do you mean they forgot about me?” His hands still, a mixture of shock and sadness plastered all over his face at the thought of your students forgetting who he was. 

You love messing with him because it’s so easy, but his pinched brows and sad puppy dog eyes is your least favorite reaction when you do take a chance at joking with him.

“Babe, I’m just kidding. They never stop talking about you. I swear I get asked at least once by each of them at some point during the day, When is Uncle Dude going to visit us?” 

“That’s it, foot rub is over for you! Can’t believe you would do that to me!” He drops your foot into his lap, hands lifted to prove he will no longer be implementing your weekly foot rub tonight. 

“You make it too easy sometimes. I saw an open opportunity, so I took it.” Wiggling your untouched foot at him, hoping he has it in his heart to even out the lingering pain still radiating through it. 

“I’m sorry, did you need something?” He asks, a singular eyebrow arched, looking at you then back to your foot before grabbing for another crispy roll and television remote off the coffee table.

The man is a menace and he knows it too. Luckily, or unlucky for him, you are too and take any chance to give it right back to him. 

Your attention shifts to Dieter’s pants, his favorite pair he wears when he’s lounging around the house. The thin material covered in stripes running lengthwise of the pant legs, varying in different shades of gray. Material so thin, they do little to prevent what hides beneath the cotton fabric. So they’ve easily become your favorite pair— for obvious reasons. 

It’s innocent at first. Your foot skimming over the top of his thigh. Back and forth, back and forth. He doesn’t even mention anything, too focused on flipping through the selected streaming service in search of some sort of cinematic entertainment for the rest of the evening. 

You sense he was getting aroused as you inched further and further up his thigh, your own body responding in kind. Feeling bold, you slowly slid your foot across his lap and let it rest on his growing bulge, applying just enough pressure which resulted in Dieter letting out a low moan, encouraging you to continue.

“Poppy, what do you think you’re doing? fuck.” His locked on you, lids already heavy as he began to succumb to your pleasurable wrath. 

“Hmm— I don’t know what you mean. Did you find a movie?” You could feel the heat radiating from Dieter's body already. “Maybe that one Nic Cage movie where he plays himself?”

“Mmmmmmmmm.” A blissed out groan is all Dieter manages. 

Mission accomplished!

But you couldn't resist the temptation to tease him a little more. With your toes, you traced the outline of his cock. Every delicious inch of him rock hard and straining beneath his lounge pants. 

“Fuck, Poppy!” Dieter gasps, his head falling back onto the arm of the couch, your touch proving to be too distracting.

“You like that, Baby?” Taunting him with a sultry voice as you take another bite of noodles.

“Mmhmm!” His eyes screw shut, nodding his head frantically. 

“I need words, Dieter. Otherwise I don’t think I can continue.” You tell him, stilling your foot. 

“YES! I like it so much, Pop! Please don’t stop!” Practically begging with you to keep at it. 

You could sense that Dieter was already on the edge, and you wanted nothing more than to push him over it. 

Feeling bold, you decide to take it a step further. With one swift move, cupping the bulge in his pants with both of your feet. Oscillating your movements between lazy up and down caressing to hard drawn out dragging motions down the length of his cock. 

It’s no surprise when Dieter lets out a loud groan when you jump straight to his most requested stroke that is always one to reduce him to a whimpering mess. Now mimicking the move without the help of your hands by applying just enough pressure at the base of his shaft with one foot while the ball of the other foot moves in circular motions over his leaning head. His pants are sticky with pre-come under your feet, smearing everywhere, completely delighted by the effect this is having on him.  

Dieter hips start to buck against your feet, grinding and rhythmically rolling in search of more friction. Poppyyesyesyes, he was desperately pleading, signaling that he was close.

“Dieter, you’re doing so well. Be a good boy and come for me.” You purr, continuing to move over his cock, rubbing and teasing him. 

He doesn’t get a chance to warn you, but the way his body goes rigid as he grips at couch cushions is more than enough warning for you that he’s going to come. 

“F-fuck!!” That coiling tension winding tightly in his abdomen finally snapping as he lets out choked sob.  

Dieter dissolves into a euphoric pleasure as he explodes inside of his pants, releasing his hot arousal all over himself and your feet. 

There was a pleasant sense of control and satisfaction that washed over you watching Dieter come undone. The way his cheeks and neck were flushed from the satisfied desire buzzing through him. A sheen of sweat speckled across his forehead, a few drops managing to roll down his face. His already disheveled hair now soaked and messier. 

You dig the chopsticks back into the carton, winding the noodles around and around in preparation for your next bite. 

“I forgot to ask— how was your day, Babe?” A lopsided grin forming as you lifted your gaze up to admire the way Dieter’s chest expanded up and down. His labored panting filling the living room as he tried to regain some sort of consciousness. 

“Fuck you, Pops!” Lifting his head so he can give you his full attention, his mouth curving into a smile that makes your stomach all fluttery. “It was good— So fucking good.”

#cat reads #fic rec

[radiowallet]

I love these two so so much. The nuance and life and pain you bring to River and Frankie. They are such real and honest characters and I am so enamored with this story. This chapter especially was so raw and real and...

THEY SAID IT!!! THEY ARE IN LOVE!!!!

into the beat of the night (ch 7) "in my side"

moodboard by @hellishjoel (ty, honey ♥)

pairing: frankie morales/oc!river price (they/them) rating: E (18+) chapter warnings: deadnaming, misgendering, seriously there's a whole character that just dismisses river's entire being so if that triggers you or you don't want to read it i completely understand, one (1) panic attack, one (1) depressive episode, frankie being the best boyfriend in the world, possible food triggers (river doesn't want to eat while depressed), discussions of past abusive behavior (gaslighting, belittling, etc), if i missed anything lmk! word count: 3.5k dividers by @saradika-graphics beta: @scenaaario

main masterlist | series masterlist

They had been at the mall for a couple of hours now, but Frankie didn’t mind. He enjoyed helping River pick out clothes, but he preferred when they went to thrift stores. Less people, fewer crowds. 

Plus, the thrift stores usually had something that he could fix up. He had been working with his hands a lot more lately in his free time. 

Now, he leaned against the dressing room outer wall, waiting for River to come out and show him a shirt they wanted to try on. Frankie smiled to himself as he thought about his partner. 

They’ve been official for six months now. It feels as fresh as when he first saw them at the Night Owl, and as comfortable as if they had been together for years.  They spend an equal amount of time at their respective apartments, and visit each other on their lunch breaks frequently. Frankie isn’t sure he has ever been so happy in a relationship as with River. In previous relationships, there was always an expectation of him. A role he had to play. With River, he can just be. They don’t expect anything of him. Except maybe his attention and love. 

And he had no problem giving them that.

“Frankie?” River laughed softly.

Frankie startled and turned his head toward his partner. “Sorry, Riv,” he smiled sheepishly. “Zoned out a little. Is that the shirt?”

River’s face softened at their boyfriend’s easy smile. The past six months had been some of the best in River’s life. They were so thankful for Frankie’s respect and patience.

“Yeah,” River nodded. “What d’you think?” They tugged on the long sleeves, pushing their thumb through the hole cut into the fabric. They twirled a little and did some silly, flirty poses for Frankie. He smirked, his eyes twinkling in interest as he shamelessly checked them out. 

“You’re insatiable,” River giggled, pushing Frankie’s shoulder playfully.

“Rachael?”

River froze, their entire body going cold in an instant. Their smile dropped and they shut their eyes, face pinched. They’d recognize that voice anywhere. 

“Riv? What’s going on?” Frankie stood, one large hand reaching out to cup their face. When River flinched slightly, his heart cracked, just a little. “Baby?”

“Rachael!” The voice chirped again, “It’s been so long! I didn’t think I’d see you here!”

Tears welled up in River’s eyes at the sound of the voice. Her voice. Why did she have to come back into River’s life now? Of all times?

Frankie felt unmoored, suddenly lost for a way to comfort River. He was interrupted by a short, very pretty woman appearing at River’s side and clutching their bicep. She was blonde, and had an almost ethereal beauty about her. Frankie’s brows furrowed and his chest puffed up a little, feeling possessive. Who was this touching his partner?

River opened their eyes slowly, and when they did, Frankie didn’t see his partner in them. His Río. They looked completely numb. “Hello, Evangeline,” River said in a flat tone Frankie didn’t recognize.

Evangeline? Frankie blinked, his left hand tightening around the handles of the bags he was carrying. 

Who was Rachael?

“It’s been such a long time,” Evangeline sighed wistfully. “What have you been up to?”

River hadn’t turned to look at Evangeline yet, staring at Frankie’s chest and tracing the pattern of the t-shirt he was wearing today; Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. They swallowed around a lump in their throat and let out a shaky breath. “Working,” they answered simply.

Evangeline ignored them and turned towards Frankie, startling like she just realized he was standing there. “Oh, I’m so sorry! How rude of me, I’m Evangeline.” She said her own name like she was someone to know, and held out her hand for Frankie to take. He looked at her face, then her hand, then River, and decided against it. “I’m sure she’s told you about me?”

“Frankie,” he said simply, voice low and eyes never leaving River’s face. He had to get them out of here. “And no. They haven’t,” Frankie bristled, dark eyes finally landing on Evangeline’s face and finding her staring at him, accusation hardening her features. She was judging him.

Well, the feeling was mutual.

“Riv?” He said softly. River blinked away tears as they looked up at him, avoiding his gaze. This was the smallest he’d ever seen them and he hated it. He didn’t know where his confident, loving River went, and had no idea how to get them back. 

“Oh, don’t tell me you actually go by that silly nickname still?” Evangeline giggled.

River winced and bit their lip. They turned and went back into the changing room without another word. When Frankie heard them sniffling, his entire body stiffened.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Frankie snapped, finally finding his voice, and crossed his arms. He stood a good foot taller than her, but that didn’t seem to bother the petite woman. It didn’t seem like much of anything did. “And why are you calling them Rachael?”

“That’s her name, obviously,” Evangeline rolled her eyes. “Her real one. We dated. For a long time.”

Frankie squinted his eyes. This must have been River’s last serious relationship. He had only heard of her in passing, and certainly never a name or how demeaning she was. Not that they ever needed to, now that they had him.

He ignored the name part on purpose.

“You must be her new plaything,” Evangeline sighed, like she felt sorry for him, as she pretended to check her manicure. “It won’t last long.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember asking for your opinion. You can leave now,” Frankie grumbled, taking a step closer to tower over her.

“I’m just trying to help,” she rolled her eyes again. “This is what she does. She’ll keep you around for a little while and when she gets bored, or finds someone new, she’ll leave.”

Frankie sighed angrily, the bile in his throat starting to sting. He set the bags of River’s purchases down on the floor next to the dressing room and quickly turned toward the checkout. Making a harassment complaint would probably get rid of her easily enough. He squeezed his fists tighter at his sides, heavy work boots thundering across the linoleum. Before he made it very far, he heard the sound of heels clacking and turned back toward the changing rooms.

Evangeline was gone.

Frankie sighed and made his way back to River. He stood in front of their changing room and knocked softly on the wall next to the curtain. “Río? Baby? Are you okay?”

River felt like they’d been kicked in the stomach. They could barely breathe or stand. They were hunched over on the bench in the changing room and hiding their face in their hands. They sniffled a few times before coughing, their hand pressed against their chest to try and breathe.

“I’m going to open the curtain, okay?” Frankie’s voice sounded like it was a hundred miles away. Light from the store poured into the small room, making them look up. Frankie was illuminated by the shitty fluorescent lighting, but it was one of the most beautiful things River had ever seen. “Mi amorcito,” he said softly, getting down on his knees in front of them. He cupped their face tenderly and rubbed their tears away with his thumbs. 

“Frankie,” River sniffled, face pinched in pain.

“Shh, c’mere,” he soothed, pulling them down onto the floor with him so he could hold them close. He rocked them in his arms and pet their hair comfortingly. “Do you wanna go home?”

River nodded against his skin, their face buried in his neck. He felt the collar of his shirt getting wetter by the minute, but he didn’t care at all.

“C’mon, baby.” He patted their arm gently, encouraging them to stand with him. He laced their fingers together as he grabbed their bags, and led River out of the mall.

It took a few days for River to explain just what happened at the mall. They’d asked Frankie for some space and while he really didn’t want to give it to them, he also respected their wishes too much to argue. 

When River texted a picture of Jonsey napping on their lap and their Baphomet slippered-feet in the background, he knew he had the greenlight to visit them. He was at work when he received the photo, and he knew River knew that, so he waited. He responded with his own picture of his greased up hand and forearm and the hangar he was currently working in. He spent the rest of his workday thinking up a plan for that evening. 

River hadn’t seen nor heard from Evangeline in a long time. At least seven years. Hearing her voice again brought River back to a place they hoped they’d never return to.

River’s therapist told them that Evangeline was gaslighting them. They’d heard the term used before, but didn’t fully understand what it meant until Dr. Owens explained it to them. Evangeline had been emotionally manipulative and abusive, and even got physical once or twice.

She never accepted River for who they were and did everything in her power to downplay River’s feelings. River still didn’t understand why.

Evangeline would tell River that all of their dysphoria was something else. Everything River felt or even thought was strange or abnormal. Evangeline was the only one in the relationship that was of sound mind. River was already in a vulnerable place when they met, and Evangeline knew just how to exploit that. 

There was a chance that Evangeline did actually love River. When they first met in their statistics class in college, their connection had been magnetic. They did a lot of the same sort of things that River and Frankie did now, but River could see now how different it was with Frankie. River was never scared that Frankie would judge or make fun of anything they said. With Evangeline it was like trying to cross a minefield. Whether it was a new band they found, or exploring feelings about their sexuality, River could never predict what would set Evangeline off.

The straw that broke the camel’s back for River came when they wanted to get top surgery. Evangeline blew up, throwing things around her apartment because she was “tired of the weird nonbinary bullshit”. She didn’t believe it existed, and was convinced River was just looking for attention.

River left, changed their number, and never looked back. The night Evangeline tried to get into their apartment in the wee hours, they had the locks changed, too. 

A soft mrrp beckoned River’s attention from the floor. Jonsey tilted his head to the side as he looked at them before jumping up onto the couch. He walked his way over to them and got comfy on their lap, kneading the skin of River’s tummy like dough. River smiled sadly and scritched his face lovingly. When Jonsey started purring, they knew they would be stuck there for a while. 

Looking through their phone at photos of Frankie, they felt awful. They hadn’t told Frankie any of this, hoping that they just didn’t ever have to think about her ever again. Frankie deserved to know, though, and they wanted to get it out in the open and out of the way.

When they received the photo from Frankie at work, their heart thundered in their chest. They really did love him. They just couldn’t voice it.

Yet.

The smell of River’s favorite takeout place filled the air in Frankie’s truck. His stomach roared to life at the smell of noodles and vegetables. Chicken for him, none for River. He looked in the backseat at the giant pillow/stuffed animal of a bat he found at the store. He hoped they’d like it.

He pulled into River’s apartment complex and parked outside their building. He took a deep breath in the silence of the cab, grabbing the food and the bat, and kicked the door shut with his boot. He held the pillow close as he knocked as softly as he could with his boot against the door.

All the tension in Frankie’s shoulders left as soon as he saw River’s tired face. It looked like they hadn’t slept in a while. Their hair was in a high messy bun, and they wore a pair of boxer briefs, an old faded t-shirt with the words Sisters of Mercy across the chest, and their Baphomet slippers.

“Hey, baby,” Frankie hummed softly, a hopeful smile gracing his features. “Got you something to eat in case you were hungry.”

River smiled sadly at the food. They hadn’t eaten in days, and they probably looked like it, too. The smell of the food hit their nose, making their stomach grumble in protest. Frankie chuckled softly at the sound.

“Figured.” He held out the bag toward them before doing the same with the stuffed animal.

“And who– who is this?” River had to clear their throat in the middle of speaking, realizing they hadn’t spoken in days either. They set the food down on the coffee table as Frankie shut the door behind him, looking over the large bat pillow with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you hate it?” Frankie asked, biting his lip. He usually got Marisol a stuffed animal whenever she was upset. He knew River wasn’t a toddler, but he also knew that they deserved something soft, too. “I saw it at the store, and…” He shrugged, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

River hummed and hugged the pillow close. “I love her,” they smiled up at him.

“Her?” Frankie grinned.

“Her name is Agnes.”

Frankie snorted. “Alright. Agnes it is.” He stepped closer to them as they hugged Agnes and tucked a few stray hairs from their bun behind their ear. “How are you doing, mi río?” He asked softly, cupping their face and rubbing his thumb across their cheekbone.

River’s eyes grew a touch sadder at the question, but they smiled anyway. “A little better,” they answered honestly. “Missed you,” they mumbled, setting Agnes down on the couch so they could wrap their arms around Frankie’s middle. They held on tight, squeezing the air out of his lungs but it felt like the first time Frankie properly breathed in days. He held them just as tightly, before kissing the top of their head.

“Missed you too, baby,” he hummed. “Was worried about you.”

River frowned and squeezed him a little more. “‘M sorry for making you worry,” they said into his shirt, the smell of oil and metal wafting off of him. The scent grounded them.

“Shh, no need to apologize, okay?” He pulled back a little, keeping his arms around them, but looking into their eyes seriously. “I’m always gonna worry about you. Even if I know you’re okay. You know I care about you,” he smiled, brushing the knuckle of his index finger against their nose softly.

River’s heart melted at the gesture, their cheeks growing warm. They smiled and looked at the bottom of his neck, a particular freckle catching their eye. They leaned forward to press a soft kiss to it before resting their head on his chest. Frankie held them close and rocked them gently.

River’s stomach roared, causing them to freeze for a second. Frankie chuckled and kissed the top of their head again. “C’mon. Lets get some food in you, yeah?”

They ate in silence. And when it wasn’t silent, Frankie was talking about Marisol or work. River listened intently, the sound of their boyfriend’s voice soothing them. Frankie put down his spoon after he finished off his fried rice, and grabbed some chopsticks. River’s eyes were glued to the thick fingers of his right hand, pupils dilating. 

“Baby?” Frankie smiled softly, picking up a piece of chicken with his chopsticks and holding it above his plate. “Did I lose you?” He teased.

River jumped a little in their seat, their eyes snapping up to his face. “Hm? No,” they cleared their throat, picking up a piece of zucchini with their own chopsticks. They stared at the vegetable and bit their lip. They probably wouldn’t be able to finish the meal Frankie went through the trouble of getting for them. Their appetite seemed to have disappeared again.

Frankie raised a brow, face pinched in concern. “You don’t have to eat anymore right now. You ate most of your noodles, which I’m glad to see,” he said softly. “You can always finish it later.”

River nodded, feeling like they were on autopilot. “We were together for five years. I didn’t… I wasn’t… me, yet.”

Frankie froze, watching River’s face carefully. They were staring out into the middle distance, somewhere around Frankie’s shoulder. “Baby, we don’t have to–”

“Yes, we do,” River’s voice was scratchy, but firm. “I went to therapy after we– After I left her. She wouldn’t let me get top surgery.”

Frankie’s eyebrows furrowed and he set down his chopsticks, crossing his arms over his chest on the dining room table. The air in River’s apartment was still, the dim light from the kitchen making River’s dark features even darker. “‘Let’?” He asked quietly.

River nodded as they swallowed around a lump in their throat. “Yes. There were… rules. Well, unspoken ones. She never believed in, well… this,” they sighed, gesturing to their torso. “Still doesn’t, it seems.”

Frankie stayed quiet, letting them continue, despite wanting nothing more than to put his fist through the table in front of them.

“The… name she called me doesn’t apply to me anymore. My parents don’t even call me that anymore,” they whispered, a bitter laugh tacked on at the end. 

“Deadnaming,” Frankie mumbled softly.

“Yeah–” River looked up at him, a confused expression on their face. “You know what that is?”

Frankie smiled shyly, but sadly. “Y-yeah, uh,” he chuckled. “I’ve been doing some research. Only fair,” he shrugged easily.

Tears welled up in River’s eyes as they smiled, picking at the nail polish on their fingers. “You’re amazing,” they whispered.

Frankie blushed, but didn’t argue. This wasn’t about him right now. He rested an open hand on the table, inviting them to give him one of their own. When River gave him one of their hands, he held it firmly in his own, thumb rubbing against their knuckles protectively. “Go on,” he encouraged gently.

River sighed heavily and nodded. They talked for a long time. Explaining anything and everything about their relationship with Evangeline, who they were before, and what brought them to him now. Not much was different, just the fact that they were more secure in who they are now.

“Gotta be honest,” River said softly, voice a little hoarse from talking so much. “Was scared how you’d react to a lot of this. I’m not sure why,” they shrugged. They knew deep down that Frankie would never judge them, nor would he be scared. They’d been through too much together.

Frankie lifted their hand and kissed River’s knuckles tenderly. “I get it,” he nodded. “I felt the same way when I told you about the military. About Colombia. I wasn’t sure if you’d see me differently or not.”

River shook their head. “No. Love you too much for that,” they mumbled quietly.

A wide grin broke out onto Frankie’s face slowly, cheeks burning red. “Love you, too, Riv.”

River hummed happily, then froze. With wide eyes, they stared at Frankie for a minute. They pointed at themself, a silent question written all over their face.

Frankie laughed softly. “You did,” he grinned, standing slowly so he could be closer to them. He cupped their face in his big hands as he looked down at them in their seat. “Love you so much,” he whispered, kissing them properly, lips melding easily against theirs. 

River was completely lost in it, fingers tangled into the fabric of Frankie’s t-shirt tightly, like if they let go he’d disappear. They moaned softly into his mouth, a tear falling down their cheek. Frankie hummed in response, catching the tear on his thumb. He pulled away slightly to catch his breath and pressed his lips to their forehead. He kept them close like that for a little while, smelling the old dry shampoo stuck to River’s scalp.

“You should take a bath, baby,” Frankie said softly. River snorted into his shirt, face buried in his tummy.

“You saying I smell?”

When Frankie didn’t answer right away, River laughed, really laughed, for the first time since they were at the mall together. 

“I–I’m not!”

River rolled their eyes and smiled up at him, chin resting on his torso. “Wanna join me?”

Frankie raised a brow and smirked, but his face grew serious quickly. “Río, we don’t have to do anything like that–”

“I know,” River muttered. “I didn’t want to. Just wanted,” they bit their lip. “Just wanted to be with you.”

Frankie’s heart melted and he nodded, kissing the hook of River’s nose. “I think I can do that,” he winked.

River didn’t doubt that for a second.

a/n: if you're curious, this is agnes and river's slippers ♥

#Cat reads #fic rec

[radiowallet]

into the beat of the night (interlude) "shake"

pairing: frankie morales/oc!river price (they/them) rating: E (18+) chapter warnings: swearing, this is honestly just pwp, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms (referenced), overstimulation, frankie being a god damn menace, sub!river this time, takes place sometime after ch6 but could realistically be read as standalone as long as you know they're together. if i missed anything else lmk! word count: 1.3k dividers by @saradika-graphics beta: @scenaaario

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

Frankie’s often thought about how lucky he is: his honorable discharge, whatever got him out of Colombia mostly intact, and Marisol’s presence when he wasn’t sure he had anything to keep going for.

But he thinks walking into that goth club might be slowly making its way up the list for him.

“F-Frankie,” River panted, looking pleadingly up at him with big, wet eyes. “Please,” they whined. They dug their blunt nails into his shoulder with one hand, and gripped around his wrist with the other. “I’m–”

“Shh…” Frankie smirks, speeding up the pace of his fingers. “I’ve only got a few more minutes before I gotta leave for work, okay? We still need at least two more.”

River groaned, swollen lips parted as they watched those thick fingers of his appearing and disappearing inside of them. They had been at it since Frankie’s alarm clock went off early that morning. He woke up in a determined mood, and River lost count of how many orgasms Frankie had given them. Their head lolled back against Frankie’s arm, long hair draped over the only thing keeping them upright. River’s legs trembled, one foot dangling off the dining room table, and the other planted against the surface of the table. 

Frankie watched their eyes glaze over and the blush on their cheeks deepen in color. They were close, he could tell. “You gonna be good and give me another one?” He grinned, removing the two fingers inside them, a satisfying squelch hitting his ears. River moaned weakly at the emptiness, their chest heaving before they gulped and nodded as they looked up at his face. He pressed the pads of those two fingers against their clit and rubbed in tight little circles. “C’mon, baby,” he grumbled against their neck before sucking lightly at the tattooed flesh.

River whined pathetically, their thighs shaking even harder around his arm. The hand that was around his wrist moved to brace themselves on the table. Their fingernails dug into the table as they scratched against the wood. “F-fuck,” they moaned, biting their lip. Blood thundered in their ears in time with their rapid heartbeat. “I-inside, please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” Frankie smirked, his bear paw of a hand covering them entirely as he swirled around their clit a few more times. His middle finger teasingly moved from their clit down to their opening at an agonizingly slow pace, making River groan in frustration. He chuckled darkly, slipping the tip of his finger inside them until it was as deep as it could go. River’s whole body went taut briefly before relaxing, their hips meeting the rhythm his hand was making in a gentle wave. “Mmm, very good,” he hummed, kissing up their neck until his lips latched onto their earlobe to nibble lovingly.

The surface of the table between River’s legs was soaked. They’d built up a little puddle as Frankie pulled orgasm after orgasm out of them, and it was about to get even worse. Their eyes shot open as the feeling low in their tummy felt… different. “Frankie,” they whimpered, looking at him with those big eyes again. “I’m– It’s not–”

Frankie looked at their face with mock worry, slipping his ring finger in alongside the middle one. “What is it, sweet thing?” He grinned, picking up the pace of his fingers again. Their pussy was loud, wet squelching sounds filling the air around them. He pressed the pad of his thumb against their clit and rubbed hard. River’s eyes rolled back and they moaned out into the apartment, unable to speak.

“Can’t even say anything, can you?” He pouted, his tone saccharine. The arm holding them up moved slightly so he could tangle his fingers into their long hair, the tips running over the back of their neck teasingly. He gripped onto their sweaty hair and forced them to look him in the eye. “You gonna come? Look at me when you do.”

River’s entire body shuddered as they nodded obediently, biting their lip.

“Good,” Frankie grumbled lowly, watching their face closely. It didn’t take much longer after that for their face to twist in pleasure and for their hips to halt all movement as they came hard. River’s body shook like a leaf as wetness covered Frankie’s entire hand. “Mmm, that’s it,” he hummed comfortingly, the hand on the back of their head cradling their neck. River’s hips rolled with the waves of their orgasm, making them whine pathetically. “Shh…” Frankie kissed their forehead, keeping his curved nose buried in their hair. They wrapped their shaking arms around Frankie’s torso as the last few aftershocks wracked through their body.

“C-can’t go again,” they panted, face buried in the fabric of his t-shirt. 

“‘S okay, baby, I know,” he smiled, kissing the top of their head. He slid his fingers out of them, one final gush of slick landing in the little puddle on the table. Frankie’s hand gripped River’s hip and pulled their body towards his own so he could hold them for a few moments. They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a little while until River came down and could breathe evenly again. “Was a big one, huh?” 

River hummed in satisfaction and nodded against his chest. Their hair was messy and sticking to every part of their sweaty body. 

“You want some water?” 

River squeezed their arms around Frankie’s soft middle before saying, “Yes, please,” in a quiet voice.

“You’re gonna have to let go of me for that, Río,” Frankie grinned.

River pouted before reluctantly detaching from him. He looked over their flushed face and relaxed body, smiling to himself. He leaned over and pressed his lips to theirs in a gentle kiss, but it slowly built to something deeper. River hummed into his mouth and cupped his cheeks with their hands. Frankie parted and pressed his forehead to theirs. “Be right back,” he whispered, eyes never leaving their face until he stepped into the kitchen next to them. 

“Wait, don’t you have work?” River asked from the table, pointedly sitting next to the little puddle they created. “And could you grab some paper towels?” They added quietly, a blush creeping up their neck.

“I can be a few minutes late,” Frankie said as he came into the dining room, a glass of water in one hand and a roll of paper towels in the other. He handed them the glass first and set the paper towels next to them on the table. He made a little growly sound deep in his chest at the sight, but forced himself not to act on it. He couldn’t be that late. 

“I’ll take care of it,” River smiled shyly, taking a big gulp of water. 

“You better,” Frankie smirked, hands laying on their thighs as he stepped between their legs again. “Want you to take a shower while I’m gone, okay? And do one of those weird face masks you like so much. Since I can’t be here to take care of you properly,” he frowned, kissing their cheek. 

“Yes, sir,” River rolled their eyes and pinched his hip. They took another drink of their water and set the empty glass behind them on the table. “You better go.”

Frankie sighed and nodded, giving them one final, proper kiss before he stepped back. He reached the door and grabbed his keys from the little dish on the table. When he looked back, River was leaning on their elbows on the table, one leg gracefully draped over the other. Their tattooed skin was shiny with sweat still and they were perfectly content with staying naked right on his dining room table. A shiver traveled down Frankie’s spine at the sight of them.

River waved their hand at him and giggled mischievously. “Go!”

Frankie shut the door behind him with a smile on his face, and a tightness in his jeans he hoped would be gone by the time he got to work.

#cat reads #fic rec #send help #imma need a minute #i love them

[radiowallet]

I am floating away on a cloud. I am incapable of thinking anything but soft sweet wonderful thoughts!

Meeting a partner's kid is such a big step and seeing these two navigate it with their hearts wide open was everything. So beautiful! Thank you for sharing!

into the beat of the night (ch 6) "precious"

header by the lovely @sp00kymulderr ♥

pairing: frankie morales/oc!river price (they/them) rating: E (18+) chapter warnings: swearing, marisol makes a proper introduction, river bonding with a 4 year-old (it's cute, i promise), worried/frantic dad!frankie, google translated spanish (sorry), sub!frankie, oral (m receiving), rimming, fingering (m receiving), cum eating, if i missed anything else lmk! word count: 3.7k dividers by @saradika-graphics beta: @scenaaario

for notifications, follow @oakslibrary and turn on alerts ♥

series summary: frankie thought he had himself figured out by now. he liked both men and women, had dated both in the past. but when someone that challenges what he thinks that means comes into his life, in an unlikely place, he truly learns who he is, and more importantly, who he loves.

series masterlist

“I’m positive.”

Frankie bit his lip, arms crossed over his wide chest. “I know kids aren’t really–”

“Oh, hush,” River laughed, rolling their eyes. “She’s your daughter, babe. Of course I want to meet her.”

“Alright,” Frankie nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips. He exhaled softly, taking their ring-clad fingers in his and rubbing the knuckles. “I’ll get my keys and we can go pick her up from daycare, then.”

Warmth spread through River’s chest and they nodded, leaning over to kiss Frankie’s jaw. “Lead the way.”

As they drove to Marisol’s daycare, Frankie let River take over the radio this time, promising that they could show him more of their own personal taste in music. A lot of it sounded like the stuff they played at The Night Owl, but River’s taste was more varied. He surprised himself by how much of it he ended up liking. 

“You know what that means,” River’s face lighting up with a grin from the passenger seat. 

Frankie glanced at them before turning his blinker on and continuing through the intersection. “No, what?” he chuckled.

“It means,” River started, voice full of delight and teasing, “That you’re goth.”

Confusion graced Frankie’s features as he slowed down at a red light. He looked over at them like River had grown a third eye. “But I don’t look like it?”

River rolled their eyes and laughed. “I keep telling you guys that it’s a music-based subculture. As long as you like the music, then you’re free to identify that way,” they paused. “If you want to, of course.”

A laugh bubbled its way up Frankie’s chest and he smirked. “Oh, then I am so goth.”

“You only just figured out who Siouxsie and the Banshees are, Francisco.”

“I still don’t know why she has to spell her name like that,” he mumbled as they pulled into the parking lot of the daycare.

River laughed and Frankie melted.

A giggling bundle of pink barreled into Frankie’s open arms as he knelt down to pick up Marisol. “Hey, sweetheart,” Frankie smiled, kissing her cheek. “How was your day?”

Marisol didn’t answer him, eyes transfixed on the new figure standing next to her father. Her big brown eyes traveled over River, her cheeks flushed and warm from running, and maybe a little bit from nerves. 

“This is River, honey,” Frankie said, resting her on his hip as he stood. “This is daddy’s new friend.” The two of them had decided on easing Marisol into their relationship, when they figured out a way to describe River in a way that the little girl could understand.

River’s heart melted at the two of them. Frankie was right about River not being one for kids, but seeing their boyfriend be so soft and attentive to this little girl was doing things to them.

“Hi, sweetie,” River smiled, reaching out to tug on Marisol’s dress. “This is very pretty.”

Marisol blushed and smiled, hiding her face in Frankie’s neck. 

“What do we say?” Frankie encouraged, patting her little bum.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I like your name.”

River and Frankie exchanged soft looks before River smiled gratefully. “That’s very sweet of you, honey.”

Marisol giggled and tucked her face back into Frankie’s neck, grabbing a tiny fistful of his t-shirt. When they made it back to Frankie’s truck, River climbed back into the passenger seat while Frankie buckled Marisol into her car seat. 

“What kind of music do you like, Marisol?” River asked, looking back at her.

Marisol’s little face scrunched up in thought, taking the question very seriously. “Hmm… pretty stuff! Stuff that ballerinas dance to,” she nodded, happy with what she decided on. 

River thought about it and scrolled through their playlists on their phone. Soft piano and an ethereal feminine voice rang through the speakers of the car as Frankie got into his own seat and started the truck. He raised a brow in River’s direction as he started driving toward his apartment.

River shrugged and smiled. “Kate Bush has pretty music. And she’s a classically trained dancer, so I think it qualifies as something a ballerina would dance to.” They both looked back at Marisol to see her with her eyes shut as she let the music overtake her little body.

Frankie smiled and nodded, accepting that defense. “Alright,” he chuckled.

Marisol was currently talking River’s ear off and Frankie was horrified. His little girl was as sweet as can be, but normally very shy. River seemed to have brought her out of her shell, a fact that filled him with joy, but he didn’t want an unexpected toddler question to make River uncomfortable.

“Did that hurt?!” Marisol squealed, poking River’s nose next to one of the piercings there. River spluttered and laughed, gripping Marisol’s tiny hand in theirs to remove it from their face. 

“It did, but it doesn’t hurt anymore,” they laughed softly. “This hurt more, though.” River poked their tongue out, showing her the piercing that lay in the middle.

“Wow!! That’s so weird!” Marisol giggled.

Frankie shook his head in amusement as he cleaned off the pan he’d be using to cook dinner. This was River’s second time at his apartment, but his first time cooking for them. The first was after their first night spent together. He and River had a movie night, and his thoughts quickly drifted to how that night progressed. River on their knees in front of him while he sat on the couch, his knuckles clenched white around the throw blanket to keep from coming. Their long hair framing their face as they kissed and licked down his hard–

“Frankie? Hello…?” River grinned, standing next to him and leaning against the kitchen counter. He startled and snapped his head up to look at them. His cheeks grew warm at their smirking face, and he felt the blush spread to his neck as they held his gaze. 

“Distracted?” they whispered, stepping into his space and kissing his jaw. They delicately licked  the patch of skin on his cheek void of any facial hair.

Frankie gulped and shivered. “I–I have to cook dinner, tu amenazas,” he chuckled softly. River smiled and gave him a quick kiss before settling back against the counter. “What were you saying before?”

“Oh, right,” River said, pointing toward the living room where Marisol was playing with her Barbies. “She wants to watch ‘mermaids’, and I didn’t know what that meant, but I assume you do.”

Frankie nodded and set down the pan in the sink before drying off his hands. “Yeah, c’mere, I’ll show you where all her movies are.” He smiled, leading River back into the living room. 

Marisol now enamored with her movie and River sitting on the floor next to her, Frankie felt warmth in his chest. As he made dinner, he couldn’t help but think of this being a regular occurrence. He knew that asking River to be a parent wasn’t fair to them, and this was still a pretty fresh relationship, but he allowed his mind to wander. He wanted to catch a glimpse of what the two of them would look like a few years down the line.

“Está listo, ustedes dos,” Frankie smiled, turning the stovetop off as the food sizzled in the pan.

“C’mon, you,” River grunted as they got up, holding their hand out for Marisol to take. Marisol happily took River’s hand as they walked into the little eating nook of the apartment. River picked her up and sat her down in her chair and set a plate in front of her.

Frankie's face visibly melted at the gesture and before he could stop himself, he leaned over and kissed River’s cheek. They both froze and looked at Marisol, who was too busy making her Barbie dance and do flips to notice. River snorted and gave Frankie a wink before taking a seat across from him at the table. 

Dinner went surprisingly well. River entertained all of Marisol’s silly questions with grace and an amused smile. Frankie watched with rapt attention and a bursting heart. Marisol was a curious little bug and he loved that about her, so it surprised him that she hadn’t already asked—

“Are you a boy or girl?”

The room seemed to still as Frankie and River made eye contact. Frankie started to panic, face pinched with worry, but River just smiled and put their hand on top of his to calm him down. 

“You have long hair like a girl,” Marisol mumbled over the thumb in her mouth. 

“I do,” River chuckled. 

“But kinda sound like a boy…”

Frankie looked at River, completely lost for words. He had no idea how to change the subject but River didn’t seem to be worried. 

“Well,” River started. “Some people are princesses,” they winked, poking Marisol’s tummy and making her giggle. “Some people are princes.” They looked over at Frankie and smiled, giving him a quick once-over. “And some people are a mix of the two.”

Marisol furrowed her little brow as she listened. “So… You get dresses and capes?” 

River met Frankie’s eyes before snorting, resting their chin in the palm of their hand. “That’s right,” they smirked.

“Ugh, that’s so cool.”

Frankie visibly deflated, eyes closing softly and exhaling. River rubbed his knuckles with their thumb comfortingly. “River is really cool,” Frankie piped in, smiling softly.

“I know that, daddy.”

River’s face softened as warmth colored their cheeks. “Thank you, sweetie.” They looked over at Frankie and made a show of checking him out, silently telling him what was in store for him later.

Frankie’s chest puffed up and he grinned, checking them out in return. “Alright, conejita, it’s getting late,” Marisol whined in protest. “Hey, you told me you’d be a big girl today, remember? Head into the bathroom and get onto your step so we can brush our teeth, okay?”

Marisol deflated a little and grumpily made her way down the hall. River gave Frankie an amused look before taking his hand in their own. “C’mere,” they hummed, pulling him close. They looked up at him from their seat and gripped onto his hips and ass, squeezing appreciatively.

Frankie shivered and cupped River’s face, kissing them deeply. “Gimme five minutes,” he breathed against their lips.

River changed, sporting a tank top and boxer briefs, and started looking around Frankie’s bedroom. On top of his dresser was a selection of photos: one of him lifting Marisol into the air, both of them giggling. River smiled, before moving their eyes to the next one: an old black and white photo of a man and a woman, presumably Frankie’s parents. The last photo was the one that really caught their attention: a much younger Frankie stood ramrod straight dressed in his military fatigues with a stern look on his face. “Must be after basic training,” they hummed under their breath. Frankie’s hair was cut short, none of the curls they loved so much to be seen.

Above the photos hung two separate certificates; one for the military, and one for flight school. Frankie had told them about his job a little, but because it was through the military, he could only explain so much. He could explain the maintenance part of his job, though.

“Alright, Marisol should be falling asleep anytime, her rain sounds are on full blast,” Frankie chuckled as he came into the room and locked the door. “What’cha lookin’ at, mi amor?”

River hummed, their thumb rubbing the side of Frankie’s young face on the photo. “You were so skinny,” they frowned, setting the photo back down.

Frankie came up behind them and rested his chin on their shoulder, swaying them back and forth a little. “Yeah. I was always pretty thin. Then Marisol came along and I started eating more regularly to keep her healthy,” he chuckled, kissing River’s cheek from behind them. 

River raised a brow and turned in his arms, holding onto the sides of his stomach. “You’re telling me this only happened within the last four years?” They asked incredulously, a smirk on their lips.

“Shhh,” Frankie chuckled and pressed their lips together, humming happily into River’s mouth. “Just go with it.”

“But I like this,” River pouted, squeezing Frankie’s fuller middle lovingly. Frankie blushed, smiled, and shrugged in acceptance. “Now,” River grinned, squeezing Frankie’s ass. “On the bed.”

A shiver traveled down Frankie’s spine, and he nodded, removing his clothes as he went. He laid against the headboard, bare legs spread out in front of him. His cock was already twitching to life at the sight of River pulling their long hair out of their face and into a loose ponytail.

“You kept stressing yourself out today,” River started, crawling onto the bed and getting comfortable between the thick muscles, kissing up his leg. “How come?” Their eyes moved up to his face as they sucked a mark on the inside of his knee.

Frankie relaxed, watching River’s mouth closely. “W-wanted things to go well with you and Marisol,” he answered, resting his hand on top of theirs on his opposite thigh. “Not burn dinner,” he laughed quietly.

River hummed, eyes shutting as they nibbled on the soft flesh. They rubbed up the sides of his legs comfortingly and made eye contact with him. “Think you did just fine,” they smiled, their lips making a small pop when they let go of his thigh. “Wanna thank you, in fact,” they breathed, their mouth moving to kiss and suck at his balls softly.

“F-fuck, for what, Río?” Frankie grunted, his cock twitching violently against his lower tummy. 

“Taking care of us,” they said casually, kissing up the length of his cock before engulfing the head with their mouth and flicking their tongue over the tip. Every time the piercing in their tongue made contact with his cock, the air left Frankie’s lungs.

A long whine left Frankie’s lips as he shivered, his stomach tensing. He looked down and groaned at his cock stretching River’s mouth to its limit.

River’s mouth popped off so they could lean forward and kiss Frankie’s ribs. They curled their fingers around his shaft and pumped languidly, their mouth sucking another mark below his pec. “Quiet, baby,” River hummed. “Don’t wanna wake her, right?”

Frankie nodded frantically, trying to keep his breathing under control. “R-right,” he gasped, River’s thumb rubbing over the head just right.

“Good boy,” River smirked, kissing their way back down to his cock. They started bobbing their head up and down at an agonizingly slow pace, watching Frankie’s face the whole time. Frankie moaned quietly, one big hand cupping the back of River’s head to keep them in place, and the other braced on their tattooed shoulder.

“B-baby, fuck, your fuckin’ mouth,” he groaned, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back.

River moaned around him and subtly moved down the bed until Frankie was lying on his back, one long leg draped over their shoulder and down their back. An idea popped into River’s head, making them smirk to themself. Their mouth lifted off of his cock again and they put two of their own fingers into their mouth, making them as wet as possible. Their hand kept a steady pace, their eyes locked on Frankie’s blissed out features. His eyes were still closed and he was moaning weakly, his whole body twitching and shivering.

Slowly, they lowered their mouth back into their original position, but this time, they flicked their tongue along the inside of his foreskin and gently grazed their teeth across the exposed head. Frankie let out a louder moan, eyes shooting open to see what they were doing. River hummed and winked at him, one of their wet fingers moving between his legs and teasing around the rim of his asshole.

“Riv,” Frankie panted, face pinched in pleasure. 

River shut their eyes in bliss and bobbed their head again, their first finger pushing past the tight ring of muscle. Frankie let out a shaky exhale, his breath hitching as River went deeper.

“Fuck,” he whined, chest heaving and toes curling. River added the second finger, and watched his face as they pumped them in and out slowly. His head was pushed back into the pillow underneath, that thick neck of his taut and flushed a deep red color. 

River moved their free hand underneath one of his thighs and pushed it back until his knees were up closer to his shoulders, exposing his hole to them. They hummed around his cock, relishing in the weight of him. His obedience made them shiver as heat built in their core. They sped up the rhythm of their fingers enough to get him to moan weakly again, the wet suck of their fingers inside him loud in the otherwise quiet bedroom. 

They sucked hard around the head of his cock before pulling away. “Touch yourself,” they hummed, voice thick and lips swollen. 

Frankie was on another planet and just barely heard them. He looked at their flushed face, eyes half lidded and glossy, plush lips parted. Frankie looked beautiful. Wrecked. 

They spread their fingers slightly, keeping up the pace. Frankie’s eyes rolled back and he groaned, long fingers curling around his cock and pumping. 

“Slowly,” they commanded, removing their fingers, green eyes stern, but not unkind. They knew Frankie needed to be told what to do sometimes and it made Frankie’s heart soar. He did what he was told, slowly moving his hand over his cock.

River hummed appreciatively and held the backs of his thighs steady. “Good boy,” they grinned, collecting saliva on their tongue before spitting directly onto his hole.

Frankie gasped loudly, squeezing his cock, and looked down at River. “R-Río! Wait–”

“Shhh,” they soothed, kissing down his thigh until their tongue met the rim of his hole and teased it over the puckered skin.

“H-holy fuck, Riv,” Frankie groaned, his free hand covering his mouth so he’d stay quiet. “I-I’m gonna fucking come,” he whined, voice muffled behind his fingers, and squeezed the base of his cock to prolong the inevitable.

“Not yet,” they said casually, their pierced tongue dragging over the tight ring of muscle before venturing further in. River moaned once their tongue was inside him, their lips sucking on the rim simultaneously. They made eye contact with him, their green ones determined and nearly black with desire.

Frankie was a fucking wreck. His thighs trembled on either side of River’s head and his toes were curled so hard his feet were nearly folded in half. His entire body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, and he could barely breathe. His head felt fuzzy, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer. “B-baby, please, I can’t–”

River moaned and removed their mouth from him. They licked their lips and wiped the back of their hand over their mouth to collect any left over saliva. They dragged their knuckles over his hole teasingly before pressing the pads of their fingertips back inside him. Frankie whimpered and bit down onto his hand as he looked at them pleadingly.

“You wanna come on my face, baby?” River said softly, soothingly. Frankie’s nearly purple cock twitched violently in his hand and he nodded frantically.

“P-please, yes, I–”

River chuckled softly as they lowered their face toward his cock, exposing their pierced tongue to him, eyes shut softly.

Frankie groaned and started pumping his cock quickly, aiming it toward their face. His fist was practically a blur, the amount of pre-cum covering his cock working in his favor. 

“Oh, mierda. Ay dios mío...” Frankie whined, voice pitched up an octave or two before his cock burst, thick ropes of come painting River’s face. Frankie kept stroking himself until there wasn’t anything left. He panted heavily, little whines and whimpers leaving him sporadically.

River smiled, licking the cum off their lips and chin before wiping the rest off with their fingers and sucking them clean. “Good boy, good fuckin’ boy,” they hummed, crawling between his legs so they could kiss Frankie deeply. 

Frankie moaned at the taste of his spend on their tongue, his big hands cradling the sides of their face. He was still catching his breath, but didn’t want to stop. River came up for air, a big smile on their lips as they pressed their forehead to his. They just breathed for a moment, letting Frankie come back down to earth.

“You okay?”

Frankie blinked up at them, eyes half lidded and shiny. He hummed, his body feeling fuzzy and satisfied, heavy. “Yeah,” he smiled. “That was… wow,” a dopey giggle escaping him.

River snorted and kissed the corner of his mouth. “First time someone’s done that?”

Frankie nodded, pulling them down until they were chest to chest. He rubbed up and down their back. “Yeah, I’m usually the one doing that sort of thing.” River hummed in response, laying their head against his broad chest and getting comfy. “Speaking of which,” Frankie tapped their shoulder, then his own chest. “Come up.”

River shook their head. “No, honey, it’s not transactional, I wanted to–”

“Get. Up. Here.”

River shuddered and obeyed, crawling up Frankie’s torso until they were sitting on his lap. “You sure?” 

“Mmm, positive,” Frankie grinned, squeezing their thighs.

Frankie startled awake, something loud crashing in the kitchen. He looked around his bedroom briefly, arm reaching out toward River’s side. When that side felt cold, he frowned and looked toward the open bedroom door. Marisol’s giggles drifted into the room and he relaxed, throwing the sheets off his tired body. He grunted as he bent over to grab his underwear and the t-shirt he was wearing yesterday.

He yawned and scratched his head, curls messy and sticking up in every direction. He slowly walked down the hall towards the kitchen. He stopped in his tracks when he heard River speaking quietly to Marisol. 

“No, we’ll get you some orange juice instead,” they chuckled, the sound of a ceramic mug being placed on the kitchen counter.

Marisol shook her head and scrunched her face.

“No? Well, what would you like instead?”

Frankie leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. He stopped next to the kitchen, staying out of sight, a smile growing on his lips.

The refrigerator door opened and Marisol grunted quietly, like she was reaching for something.

“Ahh, apple juice. I agree, this is way better,” River whispered, like it was a big secret to be revealed. 

Marisol giggled and Frankie rested his forehead on the wall. His heart thundered in his chest as a wide smile grew on his face.

#cat reads #fic rec

[radiowallet]

Thank you so so much!

I haven’t thought about these three in so long but to know that they are still bringing comfort to new readers means so much. Thank you for reading and sharing! ❤️

Like a River Masterlist

A Marcus Moreno x Female Reader x Frankie Morales story

You were mesmerized, fascinated at how rivers cut and crossed and marked their way across the world, leaving beautiful trails behind them, changing the landscape as they worked their way towards something bigger. Your life was like that too, leading you through the water, first to Frankie, then again to Marcus, the three of you coming together, the steady beat of a river marking its way across the terrain.

Main Story

Like a River*

Marcus Moreno needs help getting to an island, and he needs it done quietly. He hires an outside company, two former delta force pilots, to help get him there. Little does he know some bad intel and sudden rainstorm will change the trajectory of his life in a way he never saw coming. Explicit. Additional warnings in story header.

In the Air*

7 months later, Frankie and you haven’t stopped thinking about your weekend in the woods with Marcus Moreno. But how do you take lightening in a bottle and keep it close forever? And what happens when three people try to decide they’re ready for more? A direct follow-up to Like A River.

Slice of Life One Shots

Secrets*

Together* - Marcus gets called away on a mission a couple weeks before the holidays, leaving Frankie feeling desperate and anxious in the other man’s absence. When Marcus arrives home, the two find comfort in being reunited. Takes place early on in the relationship. Explicit. Additional warnings in story header.

Celebrate - Marcus, you, and Frankie discuss celebrating your first Pride month together. Takes place approximately early into their relationship.

You Can Be Rough, I Can Take It* - Marcus asks you and Frankie for something specific.

Here - Marcus, Frankie, and you snuggle down together for a quiet Christmas Eve. Takes place about 1 year into their relationship. Fluffy fluff!

All Tied Up* - Frankie and you take care of Marcus for the night.

Snowed In* - You, Marcus, and Frankie get snowed in while going for a hike one cold December day, resorting to the obvious means to keeping warm. Takes place well into the relationship. Explicit. Additional warnings in story header.

Take Care of You*- You and Frankie find a way to thank Marcus for all that he does for your family. Takes place well into their relationship. Explicit. Additional warnings in the story header. 

Extras

Camping Headcanons

Book Cover by @mjpens

#cat replies

[radiowallet]

This is stressful and embarrassing, but I don’t know what else to do. Please don’t judge me.

Because of health stuff that I’ve been dealing with since 2021, my income has been affected by medical bills. So that’s why I set this up.

More info below. Please consider sharing the post.

#signal boost

[radiowallet]

PEDRO PASCAL for Vanity Fair’s 2024 Hollywood Issue ph. Gordon Von Steiner

#pedro pascal #vanity fair #send help