For you I would ruin myself a million little times

You’ve found him pacing in the living room, lights off.

You can see the outline of the shape of his nose, as he once again takes other few steps, lowering his head this time.

“Well, I couldn’t feel you in bed anymore, so I got up.” You shrug, now standing by one of the couches, gripping your hand there.

He doesn’t answer though to your question, Joel simply nods and remains silent.

You let him take his time, just watching him curiously and trying to take any hint.

No laboured breath, no trembling from his hands.

He’s alright, you think, and that’s already a relief.

You keep quiet, thinking it might help to have someone just being present with him.

“Wanna go for a ride?” He says out of the blue, stopping his pacing.

And god only knows what time it is when you get outside in the humidity, holding yourself in one of his hoodies and getting into his truck.

“Where do you want to go?” You ask, Joel getting on the road, lights passing over you now in the silence of the night.

“Sometimes I would just go to a drive by and get some coffee.”

You nod, spending the rest of the trip in silence, glancing at his side profile every now and then. You haven’t been able to look properly at his eyes, and you realise that you don’t know if he’s cried.

When you get there he doesn’t even have to ask you to remember him your order.

“Alright, coffee for me,” he settles his coffee in the console in the middle, then handling you your drink, “And iced caramel macchiato with two extra shots of coffee for you.”

“Did I get it right?” He wonders, feeling your judgemental look.

But you break out giggling, “Yes, Joel, it’s the right one.”

He holds a hand on his chest, laughing with you, “You scared me for a moment there, imagine if I had gotten it actually wrong.”

“You could never, Joel, you know me far too well,” you giggle, taking a sip of the drink.

It’s true, he knows you so well and he can definitely remember your favourite colour, your favourite movies and songs, and your favourite coffee order of course; he cares way too much to ever forget any of that, just like you remember his favourite perfume, or the way he takes his coffee, way bitter than yours, never with sugar.

Joel gives you a smile, drinking then a bit his coffee, “I could never forget any of that.”

“So this is your usual night?” You ask, knowing that sometimes he would be up very late, as he would pick up the phone when you were calling him in the middle of the night, to hear his voice, to hear what would bring you safety.

“Well, sometimes yes.”

Never a man of many words, not out rudeness but just as way of being quieter, of not wanting to take up too much space.

“So you come here and then you go straight home? What’s the plan?” 

Joel sets the drink in the centre console, “Oh no, I keep drivin’ after, there’s actually a beautiful place where I usually go to,” he checks his old watch, “And in some hours we could be able to see the sunrise from there.”

“If you’re tired we can go home, though.” He rubs your knee, your thumb brushing on his hand.

“I’m alright, Joel, just keep driving.”

And Joel actually enjoys this so much, he enjoys driving at night, the world asleep and it feels like he’s the only one awake. He’s never shared these trips with anybody else, not even his previous partners would come with him.

But you do.

Of course you do, Joel thinks to himself as he’s taking a turn on the left, the material of the steering wheel smoothing under his palms. You’ve always enjoyed the night too, and staying up late. The late night calls, or even when you would be spending a night at his home and he had to bribe you in all the way to convince you to go to sleep.

Night owls, he remembers, that’s how people more active at night are called.

And maybe it’s because you too have always needed a little peace, that peace that only the night can bring.

And at night even the secrets come out from the hiding.

“You’ve asked me why I was up.” Joel brings up the topic again.

You nod from your seat, glazing at his side profile.

“Well, it- it’s been happenin’ the past few years. Ya know, I’ve been alone for quite a while, haven’t shared my house or my bed with anybody else,” he starts, keeping the speed steady on the long road.

“And at night I would just wake up, like my body was searching for something, like it was lacking someone.” He pauses for a moment, pondering if he did the right thing by telling you.

“I know it sounds weird, but you’ve asked and that’s the truth.”

He grips more the steering wheel, you can see the veins more prominent now.

“You would wake up because you were lonely.” You whisper, understanding what he meant.

You brush your thumb on his arm, “But now you’re not alone anymore, Joel, I’m right there next to you.”

Joel nods, bringing your hand to his lips to place a soft kiss there, while keeping his eyes on the rod, “I know, sweetheart, I know.”

“But this is new,” he continues, “You’ve been staying at mine just for a couple of weeks, I guess the body still keeps the count and old habits are hard to die.”

He turns one more time, the tyres hitting a pebbled surface, black hickory trees all around, until he reaches a more open place; the trees are left behind, reaching a clearing with an open view.

“We’ve arrived by the way,” he turns off the engine and he’s ready to leave the car when you gently grab his arm.

“Joel, wait,” you urge, “You know that you will leave these habits behind someday, because I’m going to stay.”

Joel’s look softens, leaning in for a kiss, cupping your cheek, “What have I even done to deserve you,” he whispers over your lips before kissing you again.

“Now let’s get out of the car, I wanna show you something.” 

You jump out of the car, the door closing echoing in the silence of the night.

“Look up, darlin’”.

And it’s beautiful, you don’t think you’ve ever seen stars being so bright and being so many. With all the lights of the city it is difficult to actually see them well, but here... here the sky is pitch black and the stars shine bright.

You stay both in front of the hood of the car, Joel pointing at the constellations.

Orion, Cassiopeia, Scorpius, Taurus.

“And look, what star is that?” Joel points a very bright one.

You touch the charm on your necklace.

“The North Star.” You utter, staring up in awe.

“Yep, the most beautiful one.”

But Joel is not looking up anymore. he’s looking at you. You’re the brightest star to him.

You can feel his look on you, and you finally turn at him, Joel ducking a bit his head because he’s been caught staring.

You smile at him, leaning onto him.

Joel slouches his arm around your shoulders, kissing your forehead.

You’ve always loved stars, he knows that, you would always stay with your look up in the sky at night, pointing at them.

Joel remembers that time you found a book about space at his house, light steps reaching him in the kitchen with the book in your arms, which looked even bigger than you.

“Oops here ya go, darling.” He had said, catching it just in time before it would land on the floor.

“What’s this, Joel?” You had asked, sitting at the kitchen table, tracing the colourful planets on the cover.

“Can ya read that for me?” He asked, pointing at the title, knowing that you were learning to read.

“It says our solar system.”

“Yes, good job!”

And that is how you spent the whole afternoon going through those pages, looking at the photos, Joel occasionally helping you with the reading and with understanding what everything meant.

“Why does it say that the sun is old? And there are so many zeroes,” You had pointed at a line next to an image of the sun.

Joel was sat at the table with you, having forgotten about anything else he had to do in the house.

“Here, look,” he had pointed at the long number, “It says that it’s four and a half billion years old, and yeah that’s a lot of zeroes! But it will still live for a veeery long time.”

That afternoon you learnt all about the life stages of the stars and the names of the planets from the solar system, Joel patiently helping you with all the harder parts to read.

At night you had fallen asleep on the couch with the book still beside you, still open on a page about stars, and that’s the day you’ve fallen in love with them.

“You gave me this.” You utter from his shoulder.

“What, babe?”

“This passion for the stars, it’s your making.” You smile, Joel feeling a warmth in his chest.

You pause for a moment, “You know someday we should go to the planetarium,”

And Joel lights up, “Yeah I would love that.”

“It’s a date,” you whisper to him, smiling over his lips as you lean in for another kiss.

Ending up kissing the man of your dreams under the stars? Life really has some plans of its own.

“So have you ever taken someone else here?” The curiosity creeps in, tilting your head at him.

And Joel knew this question was coming.

“No, darlin’,” he shakes his head, back of his fingers stroking your cheek, “You’re the first one.” He lets out, whispering, giving this secret to the night.

“You’re gonna ask me why now,” he precedes you, leaning more onto the hood of the car, looking up at the stars.

“But I know why.”

He turns at you, holding himself in the old plaid shirt he’s wearing, your studying look on him and he feels like you’re reading his mind.

“This whole thing, the trip with the car at night and coming here when there’s nobody else is your... it’s your peace, and it feels more intimate than anything else.” Your voice low, just in case the wind could take your words and bring them away.

Joel achingly nods, he might know you well but you know him well too.

“That still doesn’t explain why bringing me here.” You take his chin, parting your lips and going for another kiss, “What makes me so special, Joel?”

Joel is way too gone for you, the list would be so long.

“You’re my girl.” He simply lets out, drunk in your touch on his cheek.

“Don’t try that, there’s more.” 

“You’re my babygirl.” The words roll off his tongue easily, arm swinging around your waist.

You smile over his neck, kissing his pulse, “All of this feels more intimate than anything else?” You reach his ear, and flirting under the stars might be another first.

“This feels more intimate than having me spreading my legs for you on your couch?” You recall that first time, Joel’s body visibly trembling at the flashback.

“Or than me calling you daddy?” You tease, and you bump onto his unforgiving sweatpants and he’s gonna be in some trouble really soon.

Joel grips his hand onto your hip, grabbing the hoodie.

He curses under his breath, hating himself for the way he involuntary thrusts towards you, bumping onto you.

“Oh no, what is happening here?” Your voice naive on purpose, reaching for his sweatpants, your hand gently palming him.

And he’s hard as hell.

First time touching him like this and it’s happing out in the open, the stars being the witnesses.

Joel’s hand falls on the hood of the car with a thud, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groans when you’re not moving your hand, just letting it there over him.

And this is a lot of fun, you think while smiling amused by his reaction.

“Is there any chance that someone is gonna come here?” You ask, Joel shaking his head, almost unable to speak.

You’re bringing him to his knees and he still has all his clothes on.

“Uh no, ‘s just a-“ he takes a breath, as your thumb is going over his length, two layers of tissue between your fingertip and him and yet it’s driving him over the edge.

“- a hidden place, never met anyone here.”

“Oh that’s a relief.” You let out, your hand going under the waistband of his sweatpants, pulling them just the right amount to touch him more closely this time.

Joel almost jumps at the touch, it’s been a while.

He thrusts against your hand, “Darlin’, what are you doin’?” His eyes wild.

“You know what I’m doing,” your hand properly closing around him, Joel’s head coming forward, exhaling a moan.

The thrill of doing something like that out in the open runs in your veins, biting your lip at the thought.

“We’re gonna have to pull these off, don’t you think?” Your breathing over his neck, closing your lips over his pulse.

Joel nods, obedient like you’ve never seen him.

You roll them down just a little more, just to see him in his boxers, your hand still placed over him.

“Are you scared of me seeing you, Joel?” Your other hand taking his chin, letting his look on you, his lips parted as he’s trying so hard to think about a response.

Which shouldn’t be that difficult, but his brain is a puddle, a place where he’s responding to your touch only.

He eventually shakes his head, “No, ‘m okay with that.”, wishing his voice sounded less like a moan.

Your fingers start to trail a little away from his boxers, not without a complain from Joel.

Your fingers curls on his abdomen, shifting his plaid shirt, and then going down until his trail, tracing the path until the waistband of the boxers.

“Let me see him now,” your voice dripping in desire, twitching at the idea of holding him properly and finally seeing him.

Joel curses under his breath the moment your hand slips under the waistband, only to pull those boxers down.

And it’s been a while since he’s been looked at, it’s been a while since his last partner.

Your jaw slacks open when he’s finally in full display, and your imagination could have never given it justice.

He’s big, with a vein crossing it, already able to tell that’s pulsing like crazy.

Joel has flinched away for a moment, instinctively reaching for your hand, his trembling fingers wrapping around your palm.

“It’s alright, Joel, you’re so fucking gorgeous.” You make sure to say, brushing your thumb over his knuckles, and he’s never felt exposed like this.

He doesn’t understand the sudden trembling, he doesn’t understand the way he’s pulsing like he’s never been touched by a woman.

But the moment your hand gently wraps around him, everything clicks.

Everything becomes clearer and blurrier at the same time. 

It’s because it’s you.

His chest raises and falls quickly the moment you start moving your hand, slowly stroking him, just to see what he really likes.

His vein pulses under your palm, and your hand becomes sleek in his precome, wetting your hand to give him even more pleasure.

“How does it feel, Joel?”

And Joel thinks he might be on another whole universe, but nothing could prepare him for what you have in mind for him.

He nods, like a reflex more than a proper answer, “Just so good, sweetheart, you’re so good to me.” 

You smile up at him, trying to look away from his length, otherwise you will get on your knees in a second.

“Yeah right, Joel, now imagine where else you would feel really good.” You start teasing him.

You reach his ear, “Imagine you were thrusting not in my hand, but in me.” Joel shuddering already at the thought.

“Imagine to sink in me and stretch me with this big boy,” your hand leaving his just to hover on his hip, trying to keep him somewhat still.

Joel grunts, thrusting so much in your hand to the point his body hunches over yours, that his head falls onto your shoulder.

“You would get in so well, I would be so wet for you, daddy.” 

Joel fucking lose it, his body hunches more over you, shocked by a convulsion of pleasure, a lightning in his system, moaning loudly and having no control left over himself.

Your hand gets covered in his warm cum, getting it on his shirt and the on your hoodie and sweatpants too.

It’s been so long, it’s all he can think of, your hand still safely wrapped around him.

Your free hand reaches behind his neck, now leaving him kisses over his beard, “You’re so gorgeous, all for me and all so gorgeous.”

Joel whimpers, even more desperately when you leave him, when he’s left without touch.

You messily clean your hand on the hoodie, after all it’s his hoodie, and all of sudden Joel is cupping your face.

His warm lips are over yours in a second, demanding them, breathing you, breathing in the woman that just made him come under the stars.

He leaves you breathless and leaves you with the wanting for more.

But Joel is pulling up his boxers and sweatpants, that vision disappearing from you.

“Joel,” you whine, the older man wanting to attribute that to tiredness and not a desire for him.

“You know you’ve been the first to touch me after such a long time, uh sweetheart?”

“Well, I’m glad,” you let out in a breath, and now that you’re not focused on him anymore only you’re noticing how wet you got.

You might be dripping through your panties and sweatpants, closing your legs to stop feeling it but getting the exact opposite feeling instead.

“Oh honey, we should take care of ya now.”

His hand hovers your thigh, soon getting it on your centre, his palm over you.

“She’s gettin’ really wet, right babygirl?” He coos, his voice casting the ultimate spell on you.

You give him a nod, not able to lie, he’s probably feeling it all.

“I’ve got an idea.” He says, taking your hand and you follow him blindly until the door of the backseats, opening it and taking out a big blanket.

He soon closes the door again, looking at him a bit confused.

“I have a truck, let’s make good use of it.” He winks at you, and you never thought that something like that would be so hot.

“All for you, princess.” 

And god, you could come just at the way he treats you, as he’s showing you the back of the truck open the back and the blanket draped on its floor.

“What do you even have in mind,” you utter, smiling and being so drunk in him already.

“Just a princess treatment, now lay down for me.” He brushes your back, taking then your hand and helping you up.

He even moves you as he pleases, until your legs are dangling from the truck.

Joel sets himself between your legs, your arms swinging around his shoulders as he hovers you.

He hesitates to kiss you, just letting go of all uncertainties the moment he sees your blissful look.

And there is so much passion in the way he kisses you, balancing himself with a hand next to your head.

Your fingers brush on his peppered beard, that soft hair under your palms, until he leaves you; his wet lips go over your neck, breathing in your heat.

And your hands get lost in his hair the moment he goes lower, kisses over your hoodie, making you giggle when he reaches your tummy.

It doesn’t take long before he takes off your sweatpants, now tracing your leg with his kisses, soft pecks being placed on your skin.

Your start pulling off your panties before he can even think of that, Joel smiling over your thigh and helping you taking them off, placing them on top of the sweatpants next to you.

You push your heels on the edge of the truck, your converse anchoring there.

“She’s so pretty,” Joel sighs, his thumb exploring your folds, separating them and crouching down to give you a better look, “She’s so wet for me, darlin’.” 

You already whimper at that, Joel’s thumb exposing your clit, his pad doing precise movements over there, precise circles as if he has memorised what you need.

He sucks a bit the inside of your thigh, making you widen your legs, kicking a bit your leg and he has the most satisfied look on his face.

Joel kisses your skin until he meets your centre, looking up at you before his thumb circle over your folds, leaving place for his warm and wet tongue.

He licks and sucks, alternating them in an excruciating shot of pleasure, relentlessly going over your clit; he feels it becoming more swollen, all for him and him only, your entrance begging for something, closing and opening around nothing.

He leaves you to take a breath, panting but he could never get tired of it, kneeling down and bringing his hands behind your knees, calloused palms claiming them.

“Legs over my shoulders now, angel.”

You obey blindly, and Joel pulls up your legs keeping both his hands on the back of the thighs, digging his thumbs onto your soft skin.

You can feel the humid air hitting you, before Joel tongue swirls again over you, soft and decisive at the same time, wanting to take everything from you.

You try to move your legs, to widen them to have more, but Joel keeps you in place, sinking his tongue in you as to give you a response, your moans becoming louder, thanking that nobody will hear that.

Your whimpers and moaning are all he needs, he knows it won’t take long.

You’re dripping over his mouth, his moustache and soon over his chin too.

There is something not so elegant about the way he’s circling his tongue around your lips, before taking your clit between his lips, curling them and sucking on it.

You have to hold back a scream, even though you know nobody would hear it.

“You should- you should fill her good, daddy.” You moan, thinking of having that cock spreading you open. 

But all you feel is his finger draping over your lips, tracing their shapes, before dipping into the wetness, making you whine both in pleasure and frustration.

“I want you, Joel, I want him.” You pledge, almost on the verge of tears, moving messily against his mouth.

And that’s all that Joel needs to know that you’re not ready for that, not tonight.

He lets go of your legs, just placing them again over his shoulders, his finger going in again and it’s so easy that it’s frustrating to you.

Your hand wraps around his wrist, trying to pull him closer, but Joel remaining steady, just dipping more his finger, watching your mouth open in pleasure.

“Yeah that’s right, babygirl, that’s all ya need.” 

He lets another finger in, stretching you so well, his thumb going to press and circle over your clit now that his mouth is not gracing you anymore. Joel keeps thrusting his fingers, all coaxed so well, almost taking them out only to push them back in.

He curls them inside, pulsing inside you, hitting your sweet spot.

“There ya go princess, daddy knows what ya need.” 

That phrase alone sends your body into shock, thrusting over his fingers, a series of “Joel” and “daddy” screamed into the night.

Joel lets you come down from it before taking his fingers out, rubbing your hip and your waist, before you get up and reach for him.

He hugs you tight, wrapping the blanket around you at best, kissing your cheek, your neck, your forehead.

“My good girl,” his sweet words reach you between a kiss and the other.

He strokes your back covered by the blanket, feeling your ribcage still expanding quickly, “You’re alright, my angel, you’re alright.”

You close your hands behind his neck, your legs wrapped around his torso, and your vision going a little blurry for the tiredness.

He lifts you up, clutching more your hands on his neck, taking some of his curls in your fingers.

“Let’s get into the car.” He utters, swinging open the door of the backseat, where he easily lay you down.

Your panties fall from the blanket, Joel taking them before they can touch the floor of the car.

“Up, babe,” he lets your panties on your thighs, thanking that you’ve lifted your hips and he can pull those panties up on you, “Good girl,” he kisses your hip, searching then for the sweatpants.

He pulls them up too, then wrapping you again in the blanket.

It wouldn’t be too safe to drive with you laying in the backseat, so he helps you to get in the passenger seat, closing then the door and quickly reaching his seat.

The last thing you see before falling asleep is the orange rays of the sunrise falling on his profile, bathing him in a warm light.

“Babe, we’re home.”

You feel his warm hand on your shoulder, slowly blinking your eyes open.

The weak sunlight makes you squint a little, adjusting to that after the darkness.

“Was that all a dream?” You stretch your limbs, the blanket falling from your shoulders.

And Joel shakes his head, kissing your forehead.

“Definitely not a dream, darlin’.”

And you both think that you’re so ready for a life together that always feels like daydreaming, that’s all you will ever need.

You stutter, fidgeting with your fingers, “Last night, when- when I came to bed I told you about the news that I got, but you didn’t answer to me or anything, so I thought…” a deep breath, his eyes looking up at you, “I thought you were mad at me.” You mutter, words coming out like you’re spitting out rocks, hands even trembling because the flashbacks of the silent treatments you got in the past are too vivid right now.

He drops all his tools, hands smoothing on his denim shirt, his eyes lost as he looks at you, “Honey, I really didn’t hear you last night, I’m so sorry.” He gets up, but you instinctively take a step back. Frankie freezes in his tracks, stopping from doing any other step towards you. “It’s alright, it’s alright, I must have been already dead asleep, and I’m very sorry that I didn’t hear you at all.” He’s staying in the same spot, while you’re holding your breath, eyes already swelling with tears looking at him, vision going blur for the way you’re holding them back. You feel a single tear starting to leave the corner of your eye, quickly wiping it with your hand and holding your hand in a fist after, like you did something not allowed.

“So-”, you clear your throat for how awkward your voice is coming out right now, all chocked up by the tears. “So you weren’t mad at me, it- it wasn’t something I said.” And you don’t know if these words are coming out as a statement or as a desperate question. He has already answered but you’re so overwhelmed right now that anything will probably have to be repeated more than once for you to really grasp it.

“I wasn’t, babe, I wasn’t.” He holds his hand over his heart, and your stomach flutters, your heart sinking and rising at the same moment, breath itching. And those damn tears still giving you a blurred image of Frankie, standing right in front of you like a denim stain.

Frankie is puzzled when he sees you taking those steps back, your hands trembling and reaching for your forearms, hugging yourself after having already fidgeted with your fingers. And those little signs that your nails have left on your skin don’t go unnoticed to him. Half moon shaped signs, thanking at least that your nails are short and it doesn’t seem like a lot of damage, but still, he’s seeing you hurting yourself in front of him.

And it’s destroying him.

His heart shatters when he sees you trying to get far away from him, a horrible sensation lingering on his head, on his heart, a buzzing sound making his ears ring and his pulse being so fucking loud in his jugular.

The thought in his mind strikes like the worst lightning, “Somebody must have hurt her.”

He doesn’t dare to move anymore, he stays put, raising a bit his hands like showing defeat, and meaning no harm. But he can see your glossy eyes, how you’re wiping out the tears that you’re so desperately holding back with a gesture of the hand that looks both angry and ashamed. As if crying was something to be ashamed of, like something you’re not allowed to do.

His heart keeps breaking, as you’re holding onto the door frame, almost wanting to go get behind it.

“Honey, it is me, Frankie. You are safe here and no one is gonna hurt you.” His voice low and speaking so slowly to let you grasp every word. And yes, he keeps his tone low, sensing that maybe yelling was part of hurting you too. He has no idea about what is going on, he doesn’t have the full picture of that, so he will just guess, and guessing implies that he will take absolutely no risks, not on his watch.

He sees you shaking your head a little, a tear falling quickly from your eye, so quick that this time you cannot catch it and it ends on the floor, and given the silence even that has a sound.

Your look falls down, and that’s when he sees you falling to the ground too, slowly, still grabbing the door frame, until you’re sitting next to it, knees pulled to your chest, a sort of armour for you.

Frankie feels like if he’s gonna stand he’s gonna look too scary, so he mimics you, calmly sitting on the floor. He’s sitting cross legged away from you, searching for your look that has fallen to the ground, focusing on that tear on the floor.

“Babe,” his voice coming out so sweet, and once again so low, “It’s okay, you can cry if you need to and just know that you have done nothing wrong, everything is alright.”

He leaves out the whole news thing, not asking you that because right now he knows that there is something else he needs to ease.

And it’s like his words hit a switch in you, the tears starting dropping cruelly on your cheeks, a hand going to cover quickly your mouth as the first sob is coming up.

You suffocate it, wanting to choke on it rather than letting it out, or rather than daring to be loud while crying. It fucking hurts, your lungs asking for more air as you’re denying it to them, making your chest burn and your throat feeling blocked.

Your hand soon becomes wet in all the tears, feeling ashamed of that, now you’re giving a whole scene and that’s gonna worsen the situation, your mind yells at you, and it has the voice of all the people who yelled at you, so damn loud in your head.

Frankie can’t stand that, feeling powerless at the moment, and all he can do is haltingly making his way close to you, crawling to you. It’s just few steps and he goes so slow to catch any reaction from you. He stops when you raise your look on him, sitting then on his knees, hands gathered on his lap, looking as harmless as he can. As if he could ever land even just a finger on you. Just the thought of that repels him, would always make him sick the way a partner or literally anybody else could ever do something like that to their lover, their child, etc…

Your laboured breathing is getting worse and he can’t stand that again, he has to do something, but what? That hand is really making it harder for you to breathe, so he gently tends his own hand towards your wrist, wanting to reassure you and wanting to take it away from your lips, so that at least it will be a little easier to breathe.

But you notice that hand tending towards you and even that makes you snap your hand away from your lips, just to get it away from him, from being touched, a series of “no, no, no” having been muffled behind your palm.

Frankie raises his hands then, keeping them visible to you, “It’s alright, it’s alright, baby, I’m not gonna touch you, I’m not gonna do anything that you don’t want.”

That at least gets him a nod from you, arms hugging your knees, as the sobs keep coming, shattering the place like a glass chamber is coming down.

Frankie sits there, and it’s driving him crazy. Then he sees the little water bottle with the corner of his eye, and he reaches for it, making it roll on the floor carefully until it gets to your feet, your eyes having followed every single movement, both of Frankie and of the bottle.

It’s still a blur, but well, you’re sure that’s a bottle of water, and your look goes up at him, asking for his permission as you’re about to reach it.

“Yes, please, drink from it as much as you need.” He understands that he has to communicate that, even though it’s the obvious, but clearly it isn’t for you at the moment.

The bottle feels heavy in your hands, because whenever this wave of tears kicks off everything starts feeling heavier and your strengths are all gone. You manage to uncap it and you take some gulps from it, the water being cold against your burning throat and easing at least that pain. You breathe a little before drinking more, realising how much liquid you’re actually losing with all the tears, head almost spinning.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it.” The words of encouragement make you feel safe for a moment, as you put down the bottle half empty now. You clear your throat, that ends up in coughing, all the tears clogging up your breathing. That is how you drink just a little more sips, closing the bottle after and placing it between you two, hands still trembling though.

But your heartbeat has slowed down, and as you wipe your tears you can feel another thing hitting softly your feet, being a package of tissues. You take one from it, wiping your face and cleaning it from the tears, even though you know more will come up.

“Frankie, is it really you?” Your voice almost filled with surprise, and it shatters Frankie’s heart even more.

“Yes, angel, it’s me.” His hands still mid air, keeping them well visible to you.

And finally Frankie’s silhouette is taking shape in front of you, instead of those ghosts from the past, leaving place for Frankie’s deep brown eyes and that loving look that he has for you.

“Frankie, please…” and this time you’re the one tending your hand towards him, your body aching for that comfort you have denied yourself.

“I’m here, baby, I’m here.” He makes his way to you, until he can delicately and carefully wrap his arms around you. And he almost doesn’t even have the time to do that, since you’re falling on his chest, arms slouching messily around his waist and just cuddling on him. The shirt ends up held in your fists, grabbing it as the tears start coming up again.

“I’m- I’m so sorry Frankie, I’m so sorry, it’s on me and-“ your words are hard to leave your mouth, but he holds a hand behind your head, lulling you.

“Nothing to apologise for, honey, everything is alright, let everything out.” His voice sweet, as his thumb circles behind your head, the cruel tears wetting his denim shirt.

You almost jump in his arms for the violence of the sobs coming up again, him ready to hold you, to protect you from those in a way, “I know, baby, I know.”

Even though Frankie literally knows nothing about the cause that has made you crumble like this, but he knows how painful it is to relive any kind of flashbacks.

His other hand massages your back, and the comfort is almost overwhelming for you, your muscles relaxing but hurting at the same time for the way they have held back so much tension.

He presses a kiss on your forehead, which somehow is wet in tears too, but he doesn’t mind, he really doesn’t care either that the tears by this time have stained his shirt. He only cares about you.

You slouch more on him after that kiss, your eyes closed, soaking in that safety that his arms give you, the peace that his heartbeat is placing in you.

And your mind goes silent, the screams aren’t there anymore, only Frankie’s breathing and his heartbeat, nothing else. The hold around you is gentle, no one is tugging your arm while screaming at you, everything is quiet and you almost go numb against his chest, against that heart that beats for you.

“Breathe, honey, breathe.” The soft voice breaks the silence, and you gulp in some air, inhaling the precious air and getting in also his familiar perfume, the one that always feels like home.

You open your eyes when your breathing is being normal again and you move one hand from his waist until you can reach his jaw, fingers tracing his soft beard, taking in that feeling and staying present in the moment; Frankie just leans onto the touch, and he presses light kisses on your fingers, finally seeing a smile creeping on your lips.

He kisses your palm as you’re cupping his cheek, your skin feeling the soft beard, those heart shaped patches being there, just as you remember them.

“Everything is alright,” he repeats, as you lay your face on the crook between his shoulder and his neck, wetting that in tears too, “It’s just you and me, no one is gonna hurt you.”

You nod lightly, and you stay in that moment, enjoying all this love that gets delivered to you, limbs going numb because you don’t have to be in guarding mode anymore. The flashbacks are gone, all the voices and screams are gone too, all disappeared thanks to this man who loves you more than anything else.

Frankie holds you until you need to, until he feels you slightly moving and so he releases his arms, letting you free to do whatever you want to, which is just sitting in front of him, but this time closer than before.

He ponders on what he wants to ask you, so many questions making his ears ringing, making his throat closing too just at the idea of pronouncing them, afraid of hurting you more or even making you uncomfortable or scared.

“Feeling a little better?” He opts for a neutral question first, his eyes studying you and your tired face, after all the distress you have been through.

All he gets is another slight nod, and he knows that maybe you don’t even want to talk but he has to check on you, he needs to know more, to know if someone could ever hurt you right now, if someone has been hurting you recently.

“Babe, I’m still so sorry for not having heard you,” he starts, picking his words carefully, piloting the question like it was a difficult landing, “But, honey, I need to know if someone is hurting you, if you feel in danger or if you have felt in danger lately. You don’t owe me a response, I know,” he raises his hands, still keeping them mid air, “I just feel like there is something that has happened and that has hurt you deeply, and I want to understand more so that I can help you in all the ways I can.”

He has kept his voice reassuring, his tone still low, still like everything could shatter any minute. And even desperate, because there is just pure desperation to know what is really happening.

“I- I have never talked to you about this, but,” you utter, fidgeting with your fingers again, and Frankie knows that after he might need to medicate those little scratches you are still leaving on your skin, “I haven’t had a normal happy childhood, nor adolescence.”

And spitting out these words is hard, even harder than doing it in therapy.

But seeing Frankie’s sincere look, makes you want to continue, wanting to let him know what is happening.

“Whenever I would do something wrong, or something that they didn’t like, I would receive the so called silent treatment.”

And you have to stop, because remembering hurts a lot, Frankie slouching next to you and holding you again, your hand reaching on his arm, holding it desperately.

Frankie hates that he sensed the right thing, that his assumption was right, having wished so much that he was wrong.

You stay in his hug, continuing to talk, “They would ignore me, act like I didn’t exist, even if I was just a kid and I was crying, crying because I had no idea about what I had done wrong. I would still be ignored even if my crying was so bad that I couldn’t breathe anymore, saying it was just a show.” And some tears start falling again, this time not wiping them, just letting them go.

He places his chin over your head, that innate instinct to wanting to protect you, even if it’s too late, since he can’t protect that traumatised part of you, but he can do it with the present one.

“And I felt so bad, so guilty, thinking it was all my fault, that I was always wrong.”

You take a big breath before going on, “But when it wasn’t the silent treatment, it would be the screaming at me, taking my arms and holding them-” a sob escaping your lips, “Holding them, tugging them only to hurt me.”

And Frankie cannot hold the tears too, whispering “I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so damn sorry.”, before breaking into tears, holding you even more and trying to not let his sobs coming out because this is all about you.

“You didn’t deserve any of that, no one does, darling.” His words soft, “You had no fault and you have no fault today either, it was never your fault.”

And he fights the battle with the tears, feeling a wave of sadness that seems unbearable and he cannot even fathom how unbearable it must be for you, how it must have been living like that and how these things still haunt you now.

“It’s alright, baby, it’s alright.” His arms around you, those arms that will always remain your safe place, his right hand rubbing on your back so gently, as his hands could never hurt you, could never cause any pain to you.

“I’m so sorry-” you mumble from his denim shirt where you’re hiding your face, him shaking his head, because he can’t believe that you still feel like you have to apologise.

“Shh nothing to apologise for, you’re safe.” He whispers, placing a kiss on your cheek, feeling it still wet, as he brushes his thumb there, collecting the tears.

The embrace is what finally brings you home, together with Frankie’s soothing voice and when you want to get up he gives his hand to you, gently lifting you up, as you slouch against him, not wanting to leave his side for nothing else in the world.

-

“Alright let me see, we should have some disinfectant here.” He opens the cabinet of the bathroom, looking through the shelves until he finds the bottle that he needs, together with some gauzes to clean those little cuts.

You show your hands to him, biting you lip for the way they look right now, but he doesn’t flinch, he soaks the gauze in the liquid, stopping although before touching you.

“May I?” He asks, his hand mid air and you let out a little “yes”, and he takes your hand in his, looking at the scratches and starting to tap gently the gauze on them. It doesn’t burn, but still your hand trembles, him brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

He studies the other hand too, collecting a stain of blood on it, and cleaning a little cut, as you just trust him to do that. Frankie gets a band aid and he carefully place it on the hurt area, covering the cut and making sure that it’s sticking to the skin the right way.

“Alright, that’s it, all done.” He presses a kiss over your forehead, looking down at your hands and nodding quietly, as you take his hand in yours and you make your way to the bedroom.

It’s when you’re settling in bed, his arm under the pillow as he props himself up, that he speaks again, breaking the silence, “How are you feeling now, love?” He asks, hand rubbing over your back.

“I’m feeling better, Frankie, all thanks to you.” You utter and you reach him to give him a brief kiss, his arm going around your waist as you do so, your hand landing on his chest and feeling that heartbeat under your palm.

His nose brushes against your cheek, “Do you feel like telling me the news?” He checks in, his fingers tracing your eyebrows, seeing your look relaxing, a smile making its appearance on your lips, and you give him a nod.

“So,” you start, thumb brushing on his cheek, “Remember when the other day I was feeling very nauseous while we were in the car?”

And Frankie’s heart skips a beat because for sure the first thing that comes to his mind is just one…

He raises his eyebrows, “Babe, is that what I’m thinking?” His hand keeping on caressing your back, as he’s sitting up in bed, you mimicking him.

You tilt your head to one side and then the other, “If you’re thinking about something that can be positive then…” you take a big breath, “Then yes, Frankie, the test I took yesterday was positive.”

His hand goes covering his mouth, and only after you can see his big smile and the tears already creeping at the corners of his eyes, “Oh my god, darling, you’re-” and Frankie can’t even finish the phrase because he is so overwhelmed by the happiness rushing in his bloodstream.

“Yes, I’m pregnant.” Your voice breaking too a little, biting your lip.

“This the best news ever, angel, and-” he takes a breath, “I lost it last night because I was sleeping, oh my.” He passes his hand over his face, still in disbelief.

And that gets a little giggle out of you, “So you’re happy about that?” You check in, still not able to contain your smile, as finally the tears that right now you’re both shedding are because of happiness and not because of pain. The impossible and inexplicable turns that life takes.

"My love, I’m over the moon.” He gingerly says, wrapping his arms around you, before he kisses your lips and then places a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m just so sorry that you went through all of that between yesterday and today and-”

You kiss him again, hands going behind his neck and tangling your fingers in his curls, “It is alright now, Frankie, everything is alright.”

Your heart beats with joy seeing that big smile on his face, seeing that happiness making him shine like the brightest sun.

And for sure it has been a rough day, for sure the worst thoughts had flooded your mind, making your heart feel heavy; but everything is turning quiet now, all the screams are silent and all the bad thoughts are gone.

The only thing that remains is your other half of your soul standing in front of you, those happy tears marking his face, and you think you have found what you had been searching for your whole life.

“My dad forgot my birthday.” You had flopped on his couch, huffing.

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” Joel had said, rubbing a bit your shoulder.

“I’m gonna prepare you somethin’ for dinner... or do ya have any plans?”

You had plans, but you cancelled them, not wanting to see anyone.

But Joel is not “anyone”.

“Nah, I didn’t want to go out, so I’m good here if it’s not a problem.”

“‘S not,” he had softly smiled, disappearing in the hallway, and you heard the noises of pans, the fridge being opened and closed, packages being ripped.

Then some steps, but in another direction, until they faded more.

You were looking lazily at the tv, switching through the channels actually, when Joel appeared again in the living room, hands behind his back.

You had raised your eyebrow at him, “What?”

And Joel didn’t mind the sort of aggressive and annoyed tone, he knew that the anger was not aimed at him.

He was a pawn in that moment, and he would have let you get your disappointment and anger against him if you needed it.

“Well, ‘s nothin’ but…”

He revealed the bag in his hand, ruffles of paper gift coming out from it.

“No way, Joel, no way you got me a gift.” You dropped the remoter somewhere on the couch.

He ducked his head, “What? Just because you’re not a kid anymore doesn’t mean you can’t get any gifts.”

A tear formed at the corner of your eye, wiping it quickly, but Joel had already seen that.

His heart broke a little because it shouldn’t have been up to him to mend your broken heart, it shouldn’t have been him to put some stitches on it and hope that they stayed on.

But he was standing there anyway, with the silly bag dangling in his hands, “Come on, it’s yours.”

And you had jumped from the couch, Joel giving you the bag; the ruffle had ended up on the floor, finding then a box inside the bag.

You had furrowed your eyebrows as you took it, the bag meeting the same fate as the paper.

The box was in deep blue velvet, not too heavy, not too big, and you weighted it in your hands.

A... ring? 

For some sick reason that thought glanced your mind, realising immediately how stupid it was of you to imagine such things. Not that you wanted to marry that man in front of you, that man that now that you were in your twenties was starting to make you feel different.

You absolutely knew that Joel still saw a kid when looking at you, nothing more, the kid of his friend, a person to protect and how you wished he could protect you every single day.

Joel had watched you carefully as you opened the box, and there it was, a shiny star charm, with shiny transparent stones embedded on it.

“‘S a North Star and-“

He couldn’t finish the words because you had just slammed onto him, hugging him tight, the box in your hand.

“I love it, thank you so much, Joel, thank you.” A series of thank you had fallen from your lips, Joel almost timidly wrapping his arms around you.

And there it was, the feeling of being safe, of being exactly where you needed to be.

He had rubbed your back a little, “‘s alright, ‘s nothin’”.

But it wasn’t nothing, and when you unwrapped from him, you had tears at the corners of your eyes, now not fighting them. They rolled on your cheeks, as you looked down once more at the charm. The North Star, or Polaris, the one that travellers look at when in need of guidance, the star that will always bring people home safely, that’s what Joel had gifted you. A star that will have showed you the safe road back home, and you knew already back then that your only safe harbour was him.

Your heart ached with something you couldn’t name at the time, bones tingling with a feeling so strange, a warmth wrapping around your heart.

You had wiped some tears, “It’s so beautiful, Joel,” you had managed to say, before he could gently pull you close to him again, on his side, slouching onto him and hiding on him; his arm had wrapped around your shoulders, “I already have a necklace for this,” you had whispered on his t-shirt, Joel looking down at you.

And a couple of moments later you had taken out from under your shirt a silver necklace. Joel had watched you taking it off, and then slouching the new charm onto it; his fingers had helped you to close the necklace again, barely touching your neck.

It landed onto your chest, the little stones catching the light and you couldn’t stop smiling, touching it with your fingers as you looked up at him.

Joel had let you calm down, wash your face with cold water and only then he had led you to the kitchen, and that’s where he had served you a full dinner with all your favourite food.

“Let’s go get some cake.”

He had said while he was putting the last plate back on the shelf, you sitting in the living room and switching between channels.

“What?” You had said, lowering the tv.

Joel had come to the living room, drying his hands and actually turning off the tv.

“It’s your birthday, you can’t celebrate without a cake.” He had made a dramatic voice, making you giggle and that’s all he wanted.

The ride in his car was calm, watching him driving had always calmed you down, and so every bit of anger was flowing away from you as you were confined in that little space with him.

He had driven until the best place he knew in town, having you waiting in the car and then coming back with a big box.

“You had already ordered it, didn’t you?” You had asked him as he handed you the box.

“Well...”

He had indeed, he didn’t know if he was actually seeing you that day but he would have still gotten the cake, just in case.

“So you’re sure you don’t have to be anywhere else?” Joel had made sure to ask you while he was approaching his house, stopping by the sidewalk and turning off the engine.

“One hundred per cent.”

And Joel had chosen to believe it, he had let you home with him again and then you had eaten the chocolate cake while sitting on the floor of the living room; the tv was buzzing in the background, settled on MTV, but you had eyes and ears only for him.

You felt like... like a kid, being able to be carefree, the only worry on your mind being if you could have taken another slice of cake.

“Thank you again for this.” You had said, and Joel had waved his hand.

“Just doin’ what I think is right, nothing else, kiddo.” Joel had admitted, placing the fork onto the plate.

“And what is the right thing?”

Joel had pondered on it for a moment, then looking at you, “Just makin’ you happy, givin’ you the birthday that you deserved.”

You had slouched on his shoulder, wrapping your arm around his, fingers gripping a little his bicep, brushing your face on him as the blue light of the tv panned on you.

“It’s easy with you.” You had uttered, after another song passed on the tv.

“What’s easy?” Joel had settled both your plates aside on the coffee table, still seated on the floor, you all snuggled on him.

“Being happy, Joel. You make it all so easy.” You had rubbed your face on his arm, Joel softly smiling and passing his hand over your hair, taking it away from your face.

“I wish I could just stay here forever, and be happy with you only.”

Joel had taken a sharp breath, “You can already come here whenever you want to.”

“It’s not the same.” You had pouted, Joel half shrugging, because you just looked a lot tired and you probably didn’t mean all of that.

“Listen,” he had said, “One day you will find a person that is gonna feel like this. It’s gonna feel like happiness all the time with them, I promise.”

And at the time you had just nodded, a little corner of your mind knowing something though.

Something that you didn’t know how to name, you didn’t want to admit because it was too big of a thing.

You wished that person was him.

Later Joel had watched you falling asleep onto his lap while a replay of Notting Hill was on the tv, his look soft on you. And he really didn’t want to wake you up, so he had carried you to the guest room, landing you gently onto the bed and throwing the bedsheets over you.

His hand had brushed over your hair, thumb over your forehead, “Sleep tight, kiddo.”

That is still the same charm, it stays on your chest still nowadays, Joel seeing it peeking from the half opened shirt that you’re wearing, the stones cathing the sunlight, blinding him like you do with your happiness.

“See? I still love it.” You take it with your fingers, looking at it dangling, Joel diverting his look a bit because the shirt has moved and it’s revealing more of your skin.

“Oh come on, Joel, don’t do that.” You settle more comfortably on him, arching a little your back and Joel shouldn’t be feeling the warmth within himself, he really shouldn’t.

You lean onto him, taking his chin, “You already forgot what happened last night?”

Joel breathes deeply, how could he? He still feels your taste dripping on his lips.

“Nah, sweetheart.”

“Then come here.” You kiss him, the necklace now falling onto his chest, the shirt leaving your cleavage uncovered.

You place chaste kisses all over his jaw, your fingers in his hair.

And Joel can’t remember the last time he’s felt like this.

Helpless.

He’s a pawn in your hands, that right now are aiming for his, holding them and bringing them over his own shirt that you're wearing.

“You should open it.” Whispers being left on his lips, making fade the voices in his head telling him not to.

His hand goes all over the front of your neck, kissing the same path, hands over your hips but claiming the shape of your ass.

“You forgot your good manners instead,” hands squeezing your ass, and you can’t help but riding his thigh, “What do we say?”

You have the correct answer on the tip of your tongue, please.

But you won’t stay that.

Your man can take a little more than that, and you will keep his blood pumping.

You prop your ass, so that his hands are brushing on it, savouring what he could do.

Hoping that he will give you what you want.

“Dunno, I always get what I want, I don’t have to say please.”

Joel smiles all amused, “I bet ya do, darlin', with that pretty face of yours.”

You slide a little more on him, calloused hands on your half covered ass, that shirt of his draping over you.

But you roll it higher, so that he can palm your uncovered skin.

“That shirt will stay closed unless you say the magic word.”

Your eyelashes flutter, smirking, you won’t be giving in.

“Too bad I don’t know what that is, you really shall help me, daddy.”

He involuntarily moves against you at that word, hating and loving the power you have over him.

“Is that it, angel? Looks like I will have to teach ya that.” His tone has dropped, voice becoming deeper, and that alone is such a turn on, it goes through every fibre of your body, it makes every nerve tingle with trepidation and the hint of pleasure already nesting in you.

“Yeah,” you let out, “I wonder how you’re gonna do that.”

And Joel has never done anything like this, he thinks, when his half cupped hand hits your soft ass, the stark slap making you hiss.

“Does it look like a good lesson?” He asks, massaging your cheek, your face buried onto his neck, onto his shoulder, everywhere where you won’t be seeing anything.

You just want to feel.

“Yes, yes,” still the word please won’t leave your mouth.

Another one lands, his other hand going up and down over your back, he guesses that he can still give you some delicacy while gracing your ass with a not so delicate treatment.

“How many do ya think you deserve?” He asks, kissing your hair and tugging a bit his own shirt, so that you can look up at him.

Your eyes glimmer with lust, and Joel imagines that you haven’t thought of a number, you just want it.

“You make the rules,” you exhale, kissing him softly over his lips, before going back to hide on his shoulder.

“Alright, babygirl,”. Making you arch your back, before another one hits you, followed closely by another one.

It’s four so far, Joel makes sure to count them mentally, not knowing though how many you want, how many you could take.

But for the way you slid over his thigh, he can tell that you’re enjoying it a lot.

Five.

Your hands curl on his shoulders, grunting through your gritted teeth.

“Too much, angel?” And his voice full of concern almost makes you giggle.

“It’s perfect.” You utter lavishly on his neck, feeling his jugular pumping quickly.

He kisses your cheek, nose bumping onto you, before the sixth hit lands on your skin.

And Joel feels you riding and grinding over his thigh, hell he can even notice your panties not being so dry.

“Oh you’re enjoyin’ this,” he takes your chin, letting you look at him, eyes lucid in pleasure.

You can’t help but biting your bottom lip as you slouch on his thigh, using him.

“You think so, daddy?” 

Seven, hitting your skin with that sweet sound, followed by your light giggle.

He caresses the curve of your ass, “That what you like? That your partner does this?” He regrets it the moment his words leave his mouth, but well...

“I like it when you do it, you’re the first one.” You whisper to him, like it is a secret meant not to be said out loud.

His chest rises and falls rapidly, “Oh I’m doing the honours then.”

You nod, riding on his thigh, until you almost reach his knee, you ass all propped up for him.

“Gonna reach ten, just three missin’, what do ya say?” His fingers toying with the hems of your panties, as you wish he could take them off.

You leave a kiss on his neck, purring at that idea, “I say it looks perfect.”

His flat hand hits your skin again, holding onto him, onto the tissue of his shirt, clutching it with your fingers.

He massages you, the heated skin under his touch, daring to let his fingers onto the centre of your panties, feeling the wet spot through the cotton.

“You gonna come with this?” Breathing close to your ear, rubbing over his thigh one more time.

“I could, yeah,” you let out, “But I wouldn’t mind if you did something else too.” 

He bites his lip as he’s moving the panties to the side, finally feeling your wet folds under his digits, “You mean this, babygirl?”

It’s hard to think right now though, he might have already done that last night but it’s still such a dream to feel his touch on you.

You manage to let out a feeble “yes”, that is not enough for him.

“Yes what, angel?”

Nine, the strength of the hit making slouch more on his thigh.

“Still can’t say the magic word?” And he never thought he would have enjoyed this, but his body is thinking differently.

Ten, the final one, making you moan and knowing you’re making a mess of his sweatpants.

“Please, daddy.” Your voice still sounding like a moan, and Joel soothes your skin with his soft touch.

“Oh that’s a good girl now,” he coos, letting you raise your head from his chest, kissing you briefly and letting you hold your breath for a second, letting your heartbeat slow down after the rush of adrenaline that the pain ignited.

He’s made sure to be as light as possible, definitely not wanting to hurt you.

Joel kisses your cheek, hand sprawled over your chest, over that shirt that you wanted him to open so much and now you’ve even forgotten about that, all you want is just his fingers.

“Everything alright?” He asks, not caring that he’s gonna sound too apprehensive with that question.

“More than alright, Joel.” You smile, and that’s it takes to finally feel his two fingers dipping in you, closing your eyes to savour it all.

You clutch your hands on his shoulders, arching more your back and your necklace dangles from your neck, staying between you two.

You search for his lips, kissing him desperately as you feel the orgasm building up, Joel stretching you more and starting to properly thrust his fingers in your wetness.

The sound is godly, together with your muffled moans over his lips, his name falling from them again and again.

You grind on him until the rush of adrenaline is back, pleasure flowing through your veins, intoxicating and healing at the same time.

You collapse over him, hugging his shoulders as you try to regain your breath.

“Oh you did so good, babygirl, so good.” He praises, putting back your panties as they were before and hugging you too, your rib cages attached, just like your heartbeats.

He delivers so many more kisses on your cheek, your neck, your head, it’s like he could never have enough of that, of covering you in that affection you crave so much.

It’s only when you’ve come down from the orgasm that you face him, fingers tangling in his peppered hair, letting a comfortable silence stretch between you.

You hold his look as you let your hand trace his shirt, until reaching his sweatpants, before he takes gently your wrist.

“Hands off, darlin’, I really have to go to work.” He forces himself to say, having glanced at the watch on the nightstand and knowing that he’s already late, definitely lost track of the time.

He would do it other hundreds of times if it meant to spend his time like this.

“Joel,” you whine, having already imagined to properly see him.

“Next time, honey, next time.” He reassures you as he’s moving you from his thighs d letting you lay on your tummy, a promise that tastes like future.

Joel moves the bedsheets until he can kiss the small of your back, leaving soft pecks on your ass too, brushing his hand there, the sound of the spanks still echoing in the room.

You giggle at his kisses, feeling his smile on your skin, right before he reluctantly leaves the bed, covering you again with the bedsheets.

He takes a pair of jeans from the wardrobe, considering changing right there in the bedroom but then switching idea, thinking it would be way too tempting for you.

When he comes back he takes a glance at you, still in bed and looking absolutely blessed.

“While I’m away you can go to your father’s home, take your stuff and bring it here, at least until when you decide to stay here in town.” He says all in one breath, adjusting the watch on the wrist.

“I don’t want to go back there, I don’t want to see him right now... you should go there.” You complain, rolling inside the bedsheets, folding them all around you like a cloud.

“Well, I don’t want to see him either, don’t ya think?” But he’s already lost the battle the moment he sees you pouting; he stops in his tracks, stopping from any rambling and he exhales loudly.

“Alright, how I could I ever say no to you,” to which you giggle, peeking from the bedsheets.

He takes your keys from the nightstand, taking also the opportunity to kiss your forehead, his thumb indulging over your forehead right after.

“What are you thinking about?” You wonder, his dreamy look on you.

“Nothin’, just how gorgeous you are,” and he smiles in that soft way that he has, that adoring sparkle in his eyes.

You kiss the inside of his wrist, the blood rushing under your touch, not needing any other words, his look says it all and you’re sure that yours does the same.

Joel finally steps away from the bed, and he’s about to cross the door to the hallway when he turns at you, almost about to say to make yourself at home while he’s gonna be away, but you’ve already been doing that for your whole life.

He ducks a bit his head, then looking at you again, “Don’t steal all my shirts while I’m away,” a giggle already leaving his lips.

“Oh I cannot promise you that, Joel,” you tease, rolling on your tummy, Joel shaking his head and melting at the way you’re looking at him.

And it hits him when he’s leaving the house, the realisation that he might have always been your safe place, but that his own place always missed something.