#ive never been the type to press hard enough to snap hairs very often. though maybe thats not a good thing

[orcelito]

Survived today fine. Just chilling now.

Ordered a new bridge for my violin. Current one is kinda bent (from age, I think) and I think it's affecting my sound quality. It's supposed to come in on Saturday, along with some mutes (both for performing and also for practicing. First for making it quiet while playing a song and second to make it quieter in general so you're less disruptive while practicing. I think.) and also some sand paper. Because I'm probably gonna have to sand the legs of the bridge some to adjust it to my violin's shape.

I've never replaced a bridge before. I've put one back *on* after at least one time of accidentally knocking it out one way or another. Kinda really inconvenient. Gotta loosen all the strings, position it, then re-tune the entire thing. So that part is inconvenient, but familiar. But the sanding it into shape....... well, I might look up an instructional video or something. Just in case. It seems like it'd be pretty intuitive, but better to be safe than sorry.

[slapshot-to-the-heart]

Flatbush & Atlantic: part v

Here we have part v! Took me a little longer than usual, but I’m really happy with how it turned out - it’s All Star Weekend with our favorite couple, folks! I haven’t been getting as much engagement as usual with the posts, so please feel free to reblog it and pop into my inbox!

part i part ii part iii part iv

part v

January 28

Cass sat on a metal bench at JFK, legs propped up on her carry-on, eyes flitting between the departures screen and her phone. Mat walked through the sliding doors to her left, catching her eye with a quick wave and smile. If he wanted to travel incognito in Long Island, though, the suit bag and “these-are-more-expensive-than-they-look” sunglasses weren’t helping his cause. “You’ve got the tickets?” She asked. After much convincing, Cass finally agreed to let Mat buy the tickets; he said it would be easier to make sure they were seated together, and had told her to think of it as a belated Christmas present if she’d like. 

Mat nodded, gesturing towards the check-in counters. “Shall we?”

Cat grabbed his hand in her own as they walked to the counter. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that they’d be travelling anything but economy — she never had, after all — so she was more than a little surprised when he steered her and their bags towards American’s first-class check-in. He looked down at her. “What? You think I’d let you go to the All-Star Game in anything but the best? Nah, we’re travelling in style, babe.” Cass flushed, handing over her bags to be weighed and taking the boarding pass from the flight attendant with a harried thanks. 

“Qu-est-ce que c’est, chère?” Mat asked, brushing a kiss over the top of her head as they headed up the escalator. French had been her foreign language in high school and college; it had gotten rusty, but Mat and Tito had been more than happy to practice with her, though Beau’s Québécois accent sometimes proved a little difficult to understand. 

“I’m just really excited for this weekend. I know how much it means to you to be on the team and competing in the skills competition again, and I’m lucky to be able to see you do what you love.” 

After a less-than-ideal forty minutes in the security line, Cass handed her license and Mat’s passport over to the TSA agent, who gave them a cursory once-over before marking their boarding passes and letting them through the scanner. 

They boarded the Delta flight some 40 minutes later, after a much-needed pit-stop at the Starbucks. The flight attendants took their coats and showed them to their seats, and before Cass knew it she was seated in a very large, very comfortable chair that had more legroom than she thought humanly possible, a glass of champagne perched on her tray table. “Is this how you live? All the time?” She whispered to Mat, stunned. 

“Sometimes,” he admitted. “The team charters a plane for games and I usually don’t do first class to go back home, but this is a special occasion. It deserves it, you deserve it.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, pulling out his Airpods. “We’ve got just enough time to get through Pirates of the Carribean before we land. What do you say?” 

Their plane landed a few hours later, the two catching an Uber to the hotel about twenty minutes away. Apparently there had been “a car” coming for them, but Cass balked at the idea, insisting that the Toyota Corolla coming to pick them up was more than enough for her. 

“Hi, checking in for Barzal,” Mat said, smiling at the receptionist. 

“One moment,” she replied, tapping on the computer and turning around to grab two key cards. “You two will be in room 307, third floor. Elevators are that way. Enjoy your stay!” Mat took the cards, handing one to Cass as they turned towards the row of elevators. As excited as she was, Cass was also just the tiniest bit apprehensive about sharing a room with Mat for a whole weekend. She had spent the night once or twice since the Christmas party, and had officially been granted “a drawer” in his dresser, but it was still the longest (relatively) uninterrupted time she’d spend with him. 

There were a few hours before the festivities kicked off with some sort of red carpet-type thing, so Cass pulled out her laptop and got to work while Mat went off to exercise in the hotel gym. None of her professors this semester recorded lectures, so she was relying on good friends and a strong Wifi connection to get the notes from the one class she was missing. Cass wasn’t one to skip out on responsibilities and she did feel bad about not being there, but she had earned a break. 

Mat came back a little while later, and Cass took that as her cue to start getting ready. After he got out of the shower, she took over the bathroom, spreading her makeup, brushes, and precisely-3.4-ounce bottle of hairspray over the counter. This was the first big event she was going to as a WAG, and nerves were flying. Cass was already well aware that she didn’t fit into the typical mold, and hated the fact that she felt like she had to justify herself everywhere she went. And it didn’t help that Mat wasn’t just one of the best young players in the NHL in recent memory, but also a total smokeshow of a man who had hundreds of women falling at his feet. 

But galas, parties, extravagant events were nothing new to her. She had been the president of her sorority at UConn, organizing and attending more than her fair share of her own formals and semiformals or accompanying a friend or boyfriend to theirs. And law school called for dressing up more than occasionally. She was no stranger to impressing people. The dress was light blue to coordinate with Mat’s suit, heavily beaded, and absolutely gorgeous. This was the one part of the trip that she had absolutely refused to let Mat pay for, even though he offered. The league covered the room and he had gotten the flights, and her ego needed to pick up at least a marginal part of the expenses. 

She twisted her hair up into a bun, bobby pins stuck in her mouth as she pulled out a few strands of hair. Setting spray? Check. Lipstick? A deep rose shade that she’d had since her first year of law school, so, check. “You almost ready to go, chou?” She asked, leaning down to her suitcase and grabbing the strappy heels she’d picked out for the night.

“Uh, yeah,” Mat said, buttoning his suit jacket. He usually had pretty good taste even before they started dating, but the navy blue velvet suit he was wearing was really something else. “Wow, you look amazing, Cass.”

She smiled, stepping towards him. “The lipstick’s kiss-proof, you know.”

He raised one eyebrow. “You wanna try that out?”

---

It was a fifteen minute drive to the venue, the car the league had sent packed with players and their partners, or whoever else had managed to wrangle a spot. She thinks there were some cousins involved? Mat got out before her, holding the door open while he leaned down. “The reporters are usually fine, they get that most of you guys aren’t used to this,” he murmured, “but you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to, I’ll say something if I see it getting out of line.” 

She squeezed his hand in appreciation, taking a breath to steady her nerves before following him onto the red carpet. After posing for a few photos, they moved onto the reporters, Mat getting steered towards someone who Cass was pretty sure was from SportsCenter, but she couldn’t be positive in the crowd of hundreds. Cass briefly introduced herself, stepping slightly to the side as the conversation’s topics veered towards strategy and expectations, how best to manage playing with only three players and how he was feeling about his chances for fastest skater. 

“And you’ve brought your lovely girlfriend Cassidy along, how did you two meet?” Cass heard her name mentioned, quickly snapping out of the daydream she had been lost in. Fluff pieces were nothing new and she knew it would come up, everyone loved getting to know the players outside of a strictly hockey context. 

“Yeah, so I’m in law school, and I got an internship with the counsel’s office for the Islanders,” Cas started, “and I helped Mat with some visa stuff. He kept trying to drop hints that he was into me, but—”

“They weren’t hints. I was being as obvious as possible,” Mat deadpanned. Cass giggled. 

“Well, yeah, in retrospect I was just being incredibly oblivious, but came to one day, and the rest is history.” Mat leaned down, brushing a kiss over her cheek, and Cass could see camera flashes go off in her peripherals. She’d have to track that picture down later.

The interviewer nodded, asking a few follow-ups on her exposure to hockey growing up, her dress, and one more. “So, you hardly live the typical life of a hockey girlfriend. What do you think about that?”

Cass was confused. “Pardon?”

“Law school, being a lawyer. That’s not something that you typically see WAGs pursue, especially considering the salaries NHLers make. It’s not like they have to do much.” Cass was floored. How could someone be so disrespectful, not only to her, but to every other woman in her position? She was struggling to come up with a response. As it would happen, she didn’t need to. 

“Excuse me?” Mat’s response was dripping venom. “Why would you ask something like that?”

The interviewer tried to backtrack, but ended up digging himself into an ever deeper hole. “Well, I just meant that you don’t see it often, which is true—”

“Maybe you don’t, but that shouldn’t matter,” Mat said. “Being a stay-at-home mom or running charity events is awesome if that’s something that they want to do, but it’s not for everyone. And don’t you dare ever suggest that Cass hasn’t worked hard as hell to get to where she is. She’s graduating in five months from an Ivy League law school, and she’s the smartest person I’ve ever met. Don’t ever talk about her that way. Don’t ever talk about any woman that way.” He turned away, his hand on Cass’ upper back. “Don’t ever let anyone undersell you. You’ve worked too damn hard and come too damn far.”

 Jan. 29 (fri)

 Cass smoothed out her dress, taking a last-minute look in the mirror to make sure nothing was stuck in her teeth. “How do I look?” She asked, turning to Mat. 

“You look great, babe. Stop stressing.” She had picked a floral dress and denim jacket for breakfast with Mat’s family, but couldn’t stop wringing her hands in worry. Mat crossed the room in three steps, holding her hands still and looking at her more intensely than she had ever seen. “Remember when I was losing my shit meeting your parents?” Cass gave a tearful nod. “And it all turned out okay and now I text your brother probably more than you do?” 

She laughed. “Noah worships you, and my dad loves you. Thinks you’re ‘good for me,’ whatever he means by that.”

“I think,” Mat said, tapping her temple with one finger, “that sometimes you get a little stuck up here. You’re so smart, and it’s incredible, but you overthink things sometimes, pretty girl.”

She ducked her head. “That’s probably true.” 

“But what I meant to say is that it turned out I had nothing to worry about. And neither do you, my parents will love you and Liana’ll just be excited to have another girl around to complain about me to. It’s going to go great,” he added with finality. 

“You promise?” Cass asked.

Mat kissed her, soft and sweet and slow, the kind of kiss that wasn’t born of passion and lust but of just genuine deep trust and affection. The kind of kiss that brings your feet back to the ground when your head’s stuck off in the clouds. “I promise.”

Cass flashed a small smile, squeezing Mat’s hand in hers and heading towards the door. “Then I guess we’d better get going.” She had been up late the night before, searching on Yelp for the perfect restaurant, despite Mat’s continual claims that they’d “love wherever, they just want food.” Though, she’s not sure what she expected when asking a 20-something man what he wanted to eat. There was a cute place a ten minute drive away, with four-point-seven stars and reviews that said their quiches were the “best thing on this godforsaken planet,” according to IridescentGymRat44. Cass loved quiches. 

It was a quick Uber over, Mat’s mom having texted him that they had already arrived and snagged a table in the back for privacy. It may have been a family event, but it was still All-Star Weekend and Mat was still, well, Mat. It wasn’t likely he could fly under the radar for too long. He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand reassuringly as they turned the corner, and his face split into a wide grin at the sight of his family. Hugging each of them quickly, he stepped back to introduce Cass, one hand lightly resting on the small of her back. “This is Cass, my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, we figured,” Liana said pointedly, causing Cass to poorly cover up a snort of amusement, which in turn just caused everyone to laugh even more at their efforts trying not to laugh so hard. 

As it would turn out, Mat was right. She really had nothing to worry about; his parents embraced her (literally and metaphorically) as soon as she set down and his sister immediately whipped out her phone to show his worst baby pictures. “Hey,” she said, as Mat glared at her, “you deserve to know what you’re getting yourself into.” They were interested in her work and school, and Mat gladly took the liberty of explaining how they met, earning a slap on the back of his head from his mom when he got to the part with the visa slipup. They said their goodbyes sometime around eleven; Cass would have liked to stay longer, but everyone needed to get back to their hotels and ready for the skills competitions in the afternoon. 

“Excited to defend the title?” Cass said, bumping her shoulder against Mat as they walked down the hallway to their room. 

“Yeah, I guess,” Mat said, shrugging slightly. “Obviously it would be great to win, but there’s still McDavid and Eichel and a ton of other guys that have just as good of a chance to run away with this thing.” After his win last year, it was no shock that Mat had been picked for the fastest skater competition again, but the hordes of fans and reporters who were expecting him to go back-to-back weren’t helping his nerves. They reached the door, Mat shoving his hand into his pocket to dig out the key card. 

“Look at me,” Cass said softly, once they had gotten their shoes off and were propped up next to each other in bed. Mat’s head turned, his hand still absentmindedly tangled in her curls. “You’re going to do great. Win or lose. I believe it, your family believes it, the other guys on the team believe it. Now all we need is for you to believe it yourself.”

---

Cass was walking through the tunnels of the BB&T Center, phone pressed to her cheek as she tried to listen to her dad on the other end of the line. A few players and their families were milling about, some getting ready to compete in their skills competitions, others catching up with old friends. “Oh, and you booked the tickets to Hermosillo, yeah?” It was a family tradition for them to spend a few weeks every summer back in Mexico with her grandparents; they had split their time between San Antonio and their hometown ever since retirement. Cass always tried to make it, but the past summer she wasn’t able to wrangle the two weeks off from her job that she’d need for the trip, and it had crushed her. They weren’t getting any younger, and her abuelo had suffered a nasty stroke the year prior that made her all the more anxious to visit. 

“Yep, layover in Mexico City like usual, I’ll send you the ticket when the trip gets closer,” Patrick responded.

“And you’ve got everyone’s passport info?”

She could imagine her dad rolling his eyes. “Yes, Cassidy. Everything’s booked, everything’s fine. Have fun in Florida, tell Mat good luck from us.”

“Okay, I will. Love you, dad.” Cass said, running a hand through her hair. 

A voice that she didn’t quite recognize called her name, and as she turned around she was more than a little surprised to see Auston Matthews waving at her. “It is Cassidy, right?”

She nodded her head. “Cassidy, Cass, I’ll answer to both.”

The confusion on her face must have still been evident, because he followed up. “I follow Barzy on Instagram, he brags about you all the time.”

“Yeah, sounds like him,” she said, tapping her fingers on her thigh. 

“Are you going to introduce me?” His mom asked from beside him. 

“Oh, yeah, ‘course,” Auston said, stumbling over his words. “Mom, this is Cassidy, obviously. Cassidy — Cass?” He questioned, looking over at her. She nodded. “Cass, this is my mom Ema.” She greeted her with a warm hug, and Cass just about melted. Moms really do give the best hugs. 

Ema spoke up. “Do you have family in Hermosillo? I heard you mention it on the phone.”

“Mhm!” Cass’s head almost bounced from how fast she was nodding. “My grandparents split time between there and San Antonio, we try to visit for a few weeks every summer.”

“That’s where I grew up,” she responded, beaming. “It’s wonderful, but the summers get so hot, don’t they?” Cass and Auston both nodded. 

“I think it got up to 110º when I was there once? Maybe 115º? I want to lock myself in a freezer sometimes, I swear.” The whole group collapses into laughs, and spent a few minutes talking before Cass had to tear herself away and find her seats with Mat’s family for the fastest skater competition. Ema had left her with no fewer than three restaurant recommendations, making her swear to try them all. “Best tacos I’ve ever had,” she had said about one. 

Cass greeted Mat’s family with a wave as they settled into their seats, one row up from the ice on the right side. The players had just come out, and it only took a few seconds to make eye contact with Mat. She was wearing his — her — jersey, and had long since abandoned trying to roll up and cuff the sleeves. It wasn’t going to happen, and she kind of liked the feeling of being buried in it. She blew him a kiss as the announcers voices echoed through the stadium, and the heat was on. 

Mat was slated to go last, which was either the best or worst thing depending on how you thought about it. Cass was always someone to sign up for the first slot for speeches and presentations, and hated having late games in tournaments during her lacrosse days. She liked being able to get it over with. Mat was the opposite. He was competitive and stubborn to a fault, needing to size up the competition and get ahead of the game. Needed to know what to expect. There first few she didn’t recognize, a few first-time faces to the All-Star competition, a rookie from Winnipeg who was a favorite for the Calder. Everyone was doing well, really well — all the times but one were under 14 seconds, but nobody had broken Mat’s time yet. 

Eichel got close, McDavid got closer, and then Mat was up to defend his championship. She blew a kiss to him as he stepped up to the line, murmured a prayer, and the whistle blew. Clean straightaways, tight turns, gaining speed on the curves, and in the blink of an eye it was over. Cass knew he had won, the roar of the crowd told her as much, but she didn’t realize his time. She didn’t realize until the announcer reported that with a time of 13.080 seconds, Mathew Barzal had just set the record. His face was stunned for a moment, looking up at the screen and then down at the ice and then back up at the screen again, while being hugged and congratulated from all sides, as if trying to process what had just happened. 

It was the last one of the night, so Cass said her goodbyes to Mat’s family, with a promise to meet up before the game the next day, and hurried down to meet Mat. There wasn’t anything formal scheduled for the rest of the night, so he came out of the locker room in just a pair of athletic shorts and an Islanders t-shirt. Cass ran up, jumping into his arms as he dropped his bag to catch her. “Woah, babe,” he said, steadying his hands on the back of her thighs, “coulda given me a warning there.”

Cass kissed him. “Wouldn’t have been nearly as fun that way, though, huh?”

“You’re right.” Mat shrugged good-naturedly, setting Cass down and grabbing his bag and her hand. 

“How does it feel having beaten the record?” Cass asked. 

Mat ran his free hand through his hair, still shower-damp. “So surreal. I wasn’t even sure I’d win, not with how stacked the lineup was, let alone get anywhere near breaking the record. It’s ridiculous, but it’s amazing.”

“You’re amazing.”

 Jan. 30 (sat)

 Mat was busy doing media and catching up with some of the guys before the game later that day, and Cass had elected to stay in the room. Mat had offered for her to come along, “you might think it’s interesting?” he had noted, but she’d be damned if she let herself fall behind in her last semester, she was just too close. It had already been a bit of a stretch for her to take a day off and come for the whole weekend, so her afternoon was instead filled with some utterly thrilling reading on advanced contract theory and a thick-as-all-hell review book for the New York state bar. She leaned back in her chair, taking the last remaining sip of the mediocre Lipton tea she had snagged from the basket by the room’s coffee maker. She could finish it later.

Cass picked up her phone, pressing play on a voicemail from Fiona that had been left earlier in the afternoon. 

Uh, hey, it’s me. Cass, I don’t know if this is what you want to hear, but I don’t think I’d be a very good friend if I didn’t say it. Uh-oh. Conversations that started like that never ended well. I’m happy about you and Mat, I know you like him a lot, but I’m worried that he’s distracting you. I know you told us you’d be gone, but we missed you at the study group, and I know you skipped your law review meeting today. The rest of the message was more of the same, but one sentence stuck out to her. Think about where your priorities are. Think about where you want them to be. 

Fiona Chan had a one-track mind. And Cass loved her for it — she was one of the most dedicated people she knew and an incredible friend. But she sometimes found it hard to understand when people had priorities that extended beyond the bounds of law school, when their sole focus wasn’t on their Contracts final or clinic or clerkship they were doing for some top-tier appellate judge. 

She flopped back on the bed. Think about where your priorities are. She had been spending a lot of time with Mat lately, but no more than anyone would spend with their significant other — right? And it wasn’t a sin for her to have a life outside of law school. She was still more than competent at her job, got most of the reading done, was prepared when professors would cold-call on her. She still showed up to meetings. 

But even she would admit that her head wasn’t in the game all the time, if she could hazard another High School Musical reference. She’d sneak texts, meet him for lunch instead of going to office hours, and now, take weekends off to be with him. But that wasn’t a bad thing. Or was it? Her grades weren’t really suffering, and nobody else had mentioned anything. Friends notice things, though, Cass thought. And Fiona was one of the most perceptive people she knew. She groaned. Why wasn’t there ever an easy way to figure these things out? She really liked Mat — she might even love him — but Cass couldn’t help but feel like she was gambling on something that wasn’t a sure thing. And her future wasn’t something to play games with. 

[number-one-micoverse-fan]

Matters of the Heart

Sickfic for @mushroomminded because I know what she likes. 

*****************

“Dad? …Dad. Dad! DAD!”

Dom jolted in his seat, blinking rapidly to clear the film over his eyes and refocusing his attention on Cody. His son was leaning forward in his chair at the dining room table, brow furrowed in concern and not a little worry. Dominic forced his fuzzy mind to concentrate on the most important aspect of his life.

“Mm, yeah? Sorry, I—not awake yet. Coffee—need my coffee. What were you saying?” He murmured the words the words through a mouth that felt like it was made of wet and heavy clay.

Cody’s lips pressed into a thin line, bottom lip sucking in between his teeth as he looked his dad up and down, “I was…saying how Milo and I were planning on going to the Parker house again after school today. If that’s okay with you?”

There was a very slow moment wherein Dom struggled to put the pieces of Cody’s sentence together. But then he smiled warmly and nodded, “Sure, that shouldn’t be a…um. Should be fine. Take—just take your phones. Let, uh, let one of Milo’s dads know where you’ll be.”

Cody beamed, “We will! Thanks dad!”

Dom made a pleased noise of consent as Cody ducked his head to rapidly type something on his phone, no doubt letting his partner in crime know their plans were good to go. Dom breathed out a heavy and burden-laden breath, shoulders slumping as his eyelids slid closed once again.

It felt like only seconds later that Cody was waking him up with a quick hug and a shout goodbye as he ran out the door to school. Dom stared blankly at the empty chair his son had left behind, his mind tangling into a knot of stray and disconnected thoughts. He ran his fingertips distractedly over the polished woodgrain of the table, glazed eyes finding a middle distance in the pattern of the floor.

He didn’t realize he’d been dozing off again until his phone buzzed in his pocket with a reminder that he needed to get ready for work soon.

————

Dominic was reprimanded for dozing off at his desk three times.

Once, he fell asleep in the elevator.

His coworkers kept asking him if he felt all right, telling him maybe he should ask to go home. Dom kept waving them off with a thin and awkward smile and telling them he was fine, it was just a bit of stress, really, some coffee would wake him right up.

The drive home was stretched time from minutes into days, streetlights blurring into smears at the edges of his vision. Cars honked at him angrily when he drifted into their lane, the noise jolting him from his hazy stupor and snapping his focus back on the road.

The house was quiet and empty when he got back home, the lights off and the windows dark. Cody was undoubtedly still out and about with Milo. But that was all right, let the boy have his freedom. Dominic kicked his shoes off and shuffled into the sitting room, collapsing on the couch with a groan. He only intended to take a moment to breathe and unwind before he got up, changed, and started on dinner for Cody.

But the next thing he was aware of was being shaken awake by Cody and noticing how dark the room really was.

“Shoot, nh, s-sorry, Cody, I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” Dom heaved himself up, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes and trying to shake the lagging dizziness from his mind, “I’ll get you something to eat in a minute, just let me—“

“Dad, you don’t have to, it’s okay, I ate at Milo’s,” Cody had his hand on Dom’s arm, fingers curled into the fabric of his father’s shirt sleeve, his face a mask of worry, “I came home and you were asleep on the couch and you were so tired this morning, I just thought I’d let you sleep. You needed it. Did you eat dinner, though? You probably should…”

Dom blinked at him, something twisting in his chest at the thought that Cody had to take care of him.

“I’m all right,” He said, a little hoarsely, swallowing a lump that was pressing hard against the inside of his throat, “Just, um, long day. I’ll get some dinner. Did you do your homework?”

————

Everything was starting to pile up.

Bills, work, obligations to Cody and the school, maintaining the house, the car, and social connections. With everything else he had to take care of, Dominic had started neglecting himself. But it wasn’t a big deal; a few nights missing sleep to do some work on the side, make some extra money, try and get some savings so he could do good by his son.

Shave a few hours off of sleep here.

Skip a few meals there.

It was nothing. Really, it was nothing. Of course he was dozing off every so often, he was working twice as hard as usual.

It wasn’t a big deal.

He’d get through this and on the other side would be a full night’s sleep and plenty of time with Cody.

————

Except he was halfway down the stairs one morning when his stomach lurched and his breath seized in his lungs. His fingers cramped, his arms curling in pain, a stabbing agony radiating from his chest.

His foot missed the step and he blacked out as the world pitched beneath him and the walls spun.

Dom hit the ground hard, driving what little breath he had from his lungs as he clutched at his shift front. He wasn’t even sure he’d stopped falling because the ceiling was still spinning around and around enough to make his mind feel as if it were in a blender, smearing along the sides of the inside of his skull.

Cody’s terrified face swam into view, shouting, his mouth moving, his words so muffled they were distant beats of sound from a faraway shore. Dominic tried to say something, tried to comfort his son, but his lungs weren’t working right and his chest ached with the pain of a blade slipped easily between his ribs. Exhaustion and adrenaline fear battled one another as he stared hopelessly up at Cody through watery eyes.

He blinked and Cody’s phone was in his hand.

Blink and there were more voices, thudding footsteps.

Blink and there were strangers over him, hands on him, pressing against his wrist, his neck.

Blink and he was off the floor, rattling on something, sweet oxygen pouring into his strangled lungs.

White lights and muffled beeps and voices and it sounded like someone was crying.

Dominic made a laborious effort to turn his head and managed to make out Cody, pressing against Dan Fuller’s side, shaking with tears.

God, no, please, no.

The last thing he’d wanted to do was make his son cry…

————

Dom rose into consciousness with a sluggish return to his senses. He first became aware of his body, laying down and feeling like one massive bruise, muscles sore and aching. Then a soft, rhythmic beeping, the shifting of another person, and his own, shallow breathing reached his ears. There was a soft light on his eyelids and he peeled them open, blinking the gummy blurs of sleep from his vision as he focused on the cream colored ceiling.

A second, more lucid assessment brought attention to the padded clamp over his finger (heart monitor?), the pinch in the back of his hand (intravenous line), and the thin rubber tubing around his face, tucked into his nose (oxygen). With a soft grunt, Dom tried to shift his weight and sit up, wincing at the tight feeling in his chest.

“Want me to call a nurse?”

Slower than he’d like, Dom turned his head and saw Jake Pierly slouched in a chair next to the hospital bed. He looked more drawn and tired than usual, the bags under his eyes deeper and darker. Milo was in a chair next to him, curled up in a position that looked a little uncomfortable, but sprawled in such a way that he had his head in Jake’s lap.

Dom automatically looked around for Cody. Jake noticed,

“Dan finally got Cody to get up and leave the room, get something to eat.” Jake said in a low voice so he didn’t wake the sleeping teenager. He was idly running his fingers through Milo’s hair, an almost absent motion, “He’d been in here all day, didn’t want to leave you alone. He was really worried.”

Licking his lips and throat clicking as he tried to work the dryness in his mouth away, Dom spoke in a cracked whisper, his voice hoarse as if he’d been screaming, “Wha’ happened…?”

Jake snorted softly, an ironic smile twisting one side of his mouth, “You had a heart attack, stupid. What did you think was going to happen after you’ve nearly been working yourself to death?” Dominic stared at him and Jake sighed, rolling his eyes, “Dom, even I know you can’t skip that much sleep without consequences. And I am the king of skipping sleep.” His expression softened, tired in the knowledge of things that were too heavy to put into words but too hard to carry alone,

“You know you could have asked for help, right? We’re right next door. If you ever need anything…I mean, Dan and I…” Pink dusted the tops of Jake’s ears and he shifted awkwardly, disturbing Milo who murmured in his sleep and clutched tighter at the hem of Jake’s shirt. Jake shushed him gently, brushing his Milo’s hair back from his freckled face,

“God, Dom, you’re practically a part of this family.”

Dom’s face felt hot and his eyes burned and he sniffed, turning his head away to look at the ceiling.

Part of the family.

He let out a breathy, unstable chuckle,

“Miranda’s gonna kill me…”

Jake laughed a little, “Yeah, she’s gonna kick your ass.”

“DAD!”

And then Cody was in his lap, face pressed into Dom’s collarbone, fingers digging into the papery hospital gown. Dom wrapped his arms around his son and held him tightly, ignoring the pressure in his chest and tugging of the IV line, ignoring Milo’s happy sounds and Dan’s relieved praise. Ignoring everything but the boy in his arms. He kept one arm around Cody’s back, put the other into his son’s hair, held him as close as he could and apologized in strangled whispers, promising to never do it again, promising he’d be better, grateful that he had who he did in his life.

Cody was his world, the real center of his universe. He’d done everything in his life for Cody.

And he’d be damned if he was going to let some stupid heart attack keep him away from the people he loved the most.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

The Sound Of Silence

A very happy Christmas to @thetucc​, my giftee for TDBM Secret Santa! Since you let me pick the pairing, I used my advantage based on nice things you’ve said about past fic and gave you...

Matthew x Alice, 2500 words, The Doctor Blake Mysteries. Also on AO3. 

I hope you like it!!

****

It’s strange, Alice thinks, how silence can sound so different with each person.

With Jean, silence is companionable, a sort of sisterhood that Alice isn’t used to but appreciates. The soon-to-be Mrs. Blake is efficient and kind, and the silence around her hums in a pleasant way.

With Lucien, silence is cheerful. It feels safe, just like he does; unusual for a man. Alice has never had a brother, but she thinks that it must be something like spending a quiet hour with Lucien in his parlor while Jean fixes tea.

But with Matthew...oh, silence is everything at once. 

I. 

She goes to him at night in the silent hospital room, returning when she knows he won’t have any other visitors. The staff doesn’t try to enforce the usual rules; after all, she’s a doctor. 

Alice can’t say what brought her back, following his curt dismissal of her earlier concern. A strange curiosity, perhaps. She hadn’t given him much thought before as a coworker--he’s a good Superintendent, seems like a decent man. It’s not as though they chat much.

But lying pale and sweaty in that bed, pain etched into his features, Matthew has got her attention now. She wants to know more. She sees something in him she recognizes.

It didn’t hurt, when he brushed off her sympathy. She understood it.

And it’s very rare, for her to feel she understands someone else. Especially someone she barely knows.

So Alice sits in the antiseptic quiet of his room, watching him sleep, waiting until the next rounds begin. Trying to puzzle him out.

She slips away before the nurse’s bustling disturbs him.

Her scent lingers after her, and infiltrates his dreams.

II.

Their first real conversation occurs in the Blake home, after Alice joins the three of them for dinner.

The tableside discussion was lively, as it always was when Lucien baited Matthew and teased Jean, and the food delicious. Though Alice is relieved that Jean talked her out of learning to cook, there is still a part of her that envies her skills. Alice may know how to wield a scalpel, but to run a household as Jean Beazley does is a formidable talent.

Charlie is out, making them a foursome for after-dinner drinks. When Lucien and Jean retire--separately, but at the same time--Matthew offers to pour her another sherry.

She doesn’t want to go home. Her silent apartment isn’t nearly as warm--as happy--as she feels sitting on the couch with Matthew lightly interrogating her as a form of small talk. 

Alice doubts he knows he’s doing it. Sometimes she conducts entire autopsies in her sleep; you can’t always leave the job behind. 

Besides, she rather enjoys it, oddly. She’s not used to being the center of attention, but with Matthew it’s not so bad. He seems as curious about her as she is about him. 

It’s nice that he’s interested. It’s nice to be found interesting.

“I’d love whiskey,” she tells him, instead of taking more sherry. He blinks, but recovers quickly and with a nod pours two fingers for her next to his own.

The quiet that settles between them is warmer after he hands her the drink, their fingertips brushing for a moment that is inconsequential and momentous at the same time. 

A smile lights up Matthew's eyes as he sips.

When he offers to walk her home, Alice declines. 

When he asks her out to dinner, she accepts. 

III.

The summer air is thick and heavy as he walks her home after their fourth date. Alice is starting to wonder if he’s ever going to kiss her. If he even wants to.

Why would he keep asking her out if he weren’t interested? Could he just be that desperate for friendly company?

What if she’s completely misunderstood his attention?

As Matthew limps silently beside her, she is torn between frustration and a deep, gnawing need. 

Maybe it makes no sense, but she is ridiculously attracted to this man. The way his sullen expression verges on a pout when he’s especially upset; his insistence on pulling out her chair and holding open doors, no matter how often she argues that it isn’t necessary; those bright, fierce eyes she could fall into and that strong, solid jaw she itches to run her fingers down.

She doesn’t want their time together to end. It wouldn’t be the first time she was rejected for being pushy...challenging...too much. All of it is male code for ‘not deferential enough,’ Alice knows--but that’s little comfort when she’s alone. 

They reach her porch, where the light has gone out again. She keeps forgetting to see to that. Alice leads the way up the steps, waiting as Matthew follows more carefully. She decides not to risk it. Not now, not yet.

She can live with the frustration. She doesn’t want to live without nights like this, where even a slight possibility that he might reach for her hand makes her heart race in delicious anticipation.

Matthew doesn’t reach for her hand. He says goodnight in a tone so brusque that she could almost believe he hated the entire evening, and turns away from her to head back down the stairs.

Alice is fumbling for her keys in the dark when she hears the thud of his footsteps retracing his path back to her. They mirror the drumbeat of her pulse as he approaches.

Matthew stops a few inches behind her, the moonlight glowing against his skin. She is about to ask what exactly he’s doing, before he leans in and without a word, he just...takes.

He takes her by surprise, his mouth hot and softer than it looks, his tongue gliding between her parted lips. He takes her breath away, a hand roaming up the nape of her neck, changing the angle of their kiss until he swallows her moan.

He takes all her doubts and her fears and dissolves them, speaking with his fingers and his smile and his deep blue eyes. Alice sighs into his mouth before they break apart, both breathing hard.

Matthew leans his forehead against hers. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday,” she reminds him. “You’ll see me at the morgue.”

He steals another kiss, this one quick and possessive and followed by his grin flashing in the shadows. “After that.”

“All right.”

He brushes her cheek with his hand before walking away. His posture is totally different now, his tone cheerful, and as he’s never been the moody type, she can’t leave it be. Her curiosity is too fierce where he’s concerned.

She doesn’t just want to understand Matthew Lawson now--she needs to. He’s become a mystery that she must solve, as essential as the murders he brings her. Maybe even more so.

“Matthew?”

“Yes?” He stops at the edge of her stairs, turns slowly to face her again.

“You seemed so...almost angry, before. Why?”

Lawson is taken aback. “I wasn’t angry.”

“What, then?”

“Well.” He shrugs, reluctant to explain, but Alice is focused on him in that unblinking, intense way of hers; he can’t avoid it. “I was trying to take it slow, you know? Be careful with you. Lucien said--”

Matthew shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. You deserved better than me shoving myself at you. So I held off, I tried not to push. But...” He smiles a little. “You were driving me crazy.”

Though that hadn’t been her intention, Alice can’t say the idea is an unpleasant one.

“Was I?”

“Yes.” He watches her cross the porch, moonlight falling over her as she reaches him.

“How?”

The most delightful thing about her, Matthew thinks, is that she sincerely wants to know. There isn’t even a hint of deliberate seduction in the question, or in the way she laces her fingers through his. 

Everything about Alice is genuine--and beautiful. 

He lifts their joined hands and kisses her knuckles. “Well, for starters, there’s the way you smell.”

She sniffs skeptically. “I smell like chemicals. It’s hard to wash away, no matter how I try.”

Matthew shifts closer, pressing his nose against the curve of her neck and inhaling, making her laugh. “Under that. Maybe you have to be looking for it, but you smell like wild roses...and sin.”

Alice leans against him, laughing even harder. “Now you’re just making that up.” 

“Am not. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to be so close to you, and not touch you?” Her smile fades as Matthew frames her face with his hands. “To not taste you, when I’ve wondered for ages how you would taste?”

She smiles. “And how do I taste? Like daisies and impulsiveness?”

Chuckling, Matthew presses a kiss to the tip of her nose, astonishing her. “No...like cinnamon, and honey.”

Alice hums low in her throat. “Interesting.”

“And that.” He runs a hand through his hair, watching her intently. “The humming.”

“What about it?”

“Sexy.”

“You’re crazy.”

Matthew nods. “About you, absolutely.”

If he had started quoting poetry, he couldn’t have surprised her more. Is this the stoic, serious man who intimidates criminals and puts himself in harm’s way without faltering? 

“Matthew Lawson, you’re a romantic.” 

The kiss he pulls her into is warm and deep and lingering. 

“Don’t tell.” 

IV.

Matthew lashes out at Dr. Wallace like Alice has wanted to since his first day in the morgue, never looking her way long enough to catch the shock she isn’t able to cover. The stunned silence that follows the snap of his control rings in her ears.

Of course Matthew loathes him, they all loathe him. He’s slow and incompetent and unpleasant and not Lucien; the latter being a sin he couldn’t live down even if the rest weren’t true.

But having a problem with the man, even holding a grudge against him, doesn’t require standing up for Alice. 

The last man to speak up for her was Lucien, and he did so on principle, as her friend. It was about her but also wasn’t--Lucien tries to protect everyone.

Matthew is nothing like Doctor Blake in that way; he has little patience for most people, and in all their months together Alice doesn’t think she’s ever heard him defend anyone other than his men. Even that was rare...he simply wasn’t the demonstrative type.

Or so she had thought. But when Wallace tried to pin his mistakes on her, she could see the muscles in Matthew’s jaw working, responsibility battling the desire to fight. For her.

Perhaps it’s odd, that they're dating and sleeping together yet Alice could still be surprised by the realization that Matthew respects not just her work but her, her skills and her perfectionism and the way she carries on even in the face of utter nonsense.

But it is surprising, and quite soothing; something she can hold on to in difficult moments, in the face of all the men who are more threatened, less self-possessed...simply less, than Matthew is.

“I love you,” she murmurs behind his ear after Wallace has vanished again to wherever he goes when he’s supposed to be doing real work. “I love you, I love you.”

“Because I told him off?” Matthew grins, kissing her lightly after a glance at the morgue door. “I love you, too. But I was just telling the truth.”

It’s so much more than that, to her, though Alice is not sure how to explain that to him.

For Matthew, it is that simple; simply the truth. 

That’s what makes it amazing.

V.

A tense, slightly baffled silence falls between them when they discuss Lucien and Jean’s upcoming wedding and Alice confesses that she’s not that keen. 

“Oh, I’m quite happy for the two of them, of course--you know I am. It’s just the wedding, itself. I don’t understand what all the fuss is about.”

“You don’t want to be married?” Matthew’s furrowed brow and strained tone baffle her. It’s not as though he ever married; she knows for a fact he’s never even been engaged. The same cannot be said for her, though she’s never told anyone in Ballarat about that regrettable affair.

“I didn’t say that.” Exasperated, she leaves the bed to pace his bedroom floor. Apparently, it’s to be an argument, then. 

“You implied something like it,” he replies, tone too calm now. Almost chilly.

“I absolutely did not. Stop putting words in my mouth.” She sits in the chair across from his bed, staring at the floor. He stares at her, and the echoing quiet between them hurts.

It’s Alice who sighs, and shatters it with a whisper. “All I said was that I don’t understand.” 

Clearing her throat, she joins him on the bed again, entwining her fingers with his. “And I didn’t mean marriage. I imagine marriage can be...nice. With the right person.”

“What I was talking about was the noise of it, the big party. Everyone’s eyes on you, so many people talking and eating and staring. I don’t know why anyone would want that.”

“Ah.” This shouldn’t be news to him. He knows her. He knows her so well, it aches in his bones sometimes. 

And yet, he didn’t see this coming. She’s got a deep well of feeling beneath that cautious exterior, which made him believe she was the wedding type--Doctor Harvey is a secret romantic. He saw her bury her nose in the tulips he brought her for her birthday, when she thought he wasn’t looking.

What Matthew should probably take away from this is that there’s more for him to learn about Alice, after all.

But as she presses a kiss to his shoulder, their hands still linked, all he can think is: Right. Elopement it is, then.

VI.

And then there is the Blake wedding, when Alice changes her mind--and changes his, with a deceptively bland smile and a twinkle in her eye.  

The frantic, heated quiet of the back alley, both of them desperate for air as they steal kisses. As Alice’s words ring in his head, as Matthew breathes the question against her lips, and her cheek, and her neck. It feels as though he’s waited a lifetime to ask.

“Marry me. Marry me, Alice. Be mine.”

For her, he has waited his whole life.

The bubbling, almost manic silence they share when they head back inside, hoping no one will remark on their absence. Matthew leans against the wall, watching the couples dance.

Alice makes sure the neckline of her blouse doesn’t shift, so no one will see the marks he left on her in the shadow of the building.

The contented stillness between them as they watch their friends begin the next chapter of their lives...while they prepare to plan theirs.

“Of course,” she had whispered against his lips, without hesitation. “Of course I will. I’m already yours.”

With Matthew, Alice thinks, she found her favorite silence of all.

[kpurereactions]

Jackson Wang

REQUEST: Hi can you do some GOT7 smut idc which member you choose. Can it be where y/n isn't the shy type and they ask a random sexual question and she reveals some kink she has without hesitation|**

Type: Smut

Word Count: 2749

*I do not own this gif, credit to its owner*

"Okay, Okay." Jinyoung laughed pouring more wine into BamBam's glass. It was Wine Wednesday and of course you were here in the boys apartment, two bottles of wine deep and playing never have I ever.

"Never have I ever.... had sex with a dude." Jinyoung finished looking at you with raised eyebrows.

"You are so lame, you couldn't have thought of anything better?" You said taking a sip from your glass to indicate that you have.

"Don't be so mean!" He said before pointing to your best friend to indicate it was her turn.

"Well, I guess since were picking on y/n and on the topic," You looked at her with an amused smile, this was going to be good. "Never have I ever been tied up during sex."

All eyes looked to your as you downed remaining  half of your glass. It was no secret to those who asked that you were kinky in more ways than one, and you really didn't care who knew. You weren't going to apologize for it. After wiping your mouth and holding out your hand to Jinyoung to refill your glass you noticed everyone was now looking at you with an array of expressions. Your best friend looked at you smugly, knowing exactly what it was she did. Jaebum, Jinyoung, Youngjae and Yugyeom were all looking at you in compete shock while BamBam, Mark, and Jackson were all looking at you curiously.

"What do you mean you've been tied up during sex?" BamBam finally asked.

"Um, like I've have my arms tied behind me, I've been tied to the headboard before... just basic stuff, nothing too exciting." You said wiggling your glass in front of Jinyoung again.

"Wait, is that why you had that bruise on your thigh the other day?" Youngjae asked. You're best friend snorted, knowing perfectly well that wasn't it.

"No, that was from something else." You said taking another sip.

"What?"

"I don't mind a good caning every once in a while." You shrugged as your friend started to laugh.

"Y/n is actually the kinkiest person you'll ever meet." She said holding her glass out to you.

"Really?" Jackson said looking from beside you with more than just amusement in his eyes now.

"Yup, love it." You said shrugging.

"Whats your favorite?" Yugyeom asked. You could tell it just slipped out since his hand went to cover his mouth in a discreet way. You laughed and repositioned yourself, your friend now so excited she could hardly sit down. She lived through your stories and loved hearing about them.

"Well Choking is the one I ask for the most. A close second though is a daddy kink." You said making the boys around you eyes widen.

"Never have I ever called anyone Daddy during sex." Mark said making every one laugh and you take another drink.

The night went on and everyone continued to drink. Mark and Yugyeom called it a night first, light weights, and shortly after that one by one the rest of the boys trickled away. Your best friend was already passed out on the couch so as Jaebum left you with yourself and Jackson you figured you might as well get settled.

"So, Im still curious." Jackson said catching your attention and waving you over to the patio that still sat open. You walked over to him and followed him out, sitting yourself on one of the plastic chairs.

"About?" You finally said.

"This whole kink thing." You nodded to tell him to continue. "Ive kind of been wanting to try a few out." He finished making you nod.

"Well, what are you interested in?"

"Well I thought at first it would just be little stuff like marking and stuff.. but when you said choking and especially when you said your daddy kink..."

"Theres only one way to find out if you like those things, and if you think that you're going to be into a daddy kink then you shouldn't be acting like a nervous little boy." You said in a very matter of fact tone, completely amused with the way he was so nervous.

"I know, thats why Id want to try it with someone I trust you know? I don't know." He said licking his bottom lip.

You didnt know why but in that moment you saw him in a new light. You cocked your head and looked at him, and then you said something that shocked even you.

"Well Im your friend."

His head snapped over to look at you and you silently kicked yourself for saying it. There was just something about how nervous he was that turned you on. You wanted to see if he had that monster inside of him, but before you could tell him anything else his entire demeanor changed. His nervous lip licking turned into a cocky grin and his unsure eyes turned dark as he looked into you.

"Are you suggesting what I think you are?" He said sitting back and crossing his arms over his chest. You thought for a second before nodding, already knowing you were falling into your submissive ways.

"Yes, daddy." You said, trying to fight the smile that tugged at your lips.

"Oh yea, Im going to like this." He said standing up quickly and grabbing your arm to pull you behind him.

He shut his door a little too hard and instantly your lips were connected. You never realized how badly you needed to kiss Jackson. How perfect his lips felt as he pressed his body as tightly against yours as he could get. Your hands became fists as they pulled the material of his shirt towards your body until you realized you much rather be touching the perfect skin you had so often stared at. Grabbing at the bottom you started to pull it up, smiling as he let you take it off of his body.

"Someones eager." He said with a smirk that made the pooling in your shorts even more prominent. You smiled back before biting your lip and taking off your own shirt, to which he rocked back to get a better view.

"I knew you never wore bras under your sweatshirts." He said walking into you so you could wrap your arms around his neck.

You let him walk you back till you knees it the bed causing you to sit, breaking the kiss. He watched you as you scooted back and rested on your elbows, waiting for him to make the next move. His hands started to trace up your bare leg till it met the hem of your shorts. The feeling of his hand made goosebumps appear across your thighs and your nipples to stand at attention, something his obviously noticed. With fingers hooking under the band on your shorts he began to pull them off, your head fell back in anticipation, only to rise again when you heard his light chuckle.

"No panties either." He tisked.

You bit your lip waiting for him to make the next move. The sight of you doing that as you laid naked in front of him made his member twitch as he couldn't wait any longer. Strong arms moving on either side of you he crawled till his face was once again pressing to yours. He kissed you quickly and without asking his tongue was slipping into yours. He let his chest press against yours and the sudden pressure made you groan and wrap your arms around his back. You let your fingers trail up and down a short patch of skin, something that you often did for him when movies were being watched, but this time every time your hands trailed back down they went lower and lower. As soon as your fingertips met his belt you quickly started to undo the button and zipper, your need for him growing. He chuckled again into the kiss, his lips soon leaving yours.

"Would you like me to touch you?" He whispered against your ear as his lips pressed firmly to your neck and his fingers now lightly made their way to your core.

"Yes... daddy." You said remembering why this was happening in the first place.

He nipped at the skin of your neck causing a soft moan to come from your lips and distracting you slightly from his hand that had left your skin. Without warning his fingers were entering you causing a sharp gasp to leave your lips as your back arched. He chuckled at your response as he slowly drew his fingers back out. The sound of your disappointed moan made him push his fingers back into you causing another gasp.

"I dont do teasing." You stated, rolling your hips against his fingers. He pushed on your hips so they were trapped against the bed and you groaned as he slowly removed his fingers again.

"I do." Was all he said. He looked at you intently making you bite your lip. This was exactly what you wanted from him.

"Yes sir." You said trying to relax your body as his fingers began to tease you again.

Trying to fight the urge to roll your hips against him was enough to make the feeling of his fingers slowly curling upwards more intense then it should have been. You tried focusing on his mouth that was now kissing down your neck, but that was driving you crazy too. Another moan left your lips as he kissed passed your collar bone to lightly nip at one of your nipples. Yo didn't know how he was doing it, or what he was doing that made every nerve in your body stand on edge. Out of pleasure your hands found their way into his hair. He groaned as you tugged slightly but the moment he felt you trying to direct him closer to your core all feeling of him disappeared.

"No, no baby girl. Be good." He said making you whimper.

You were happy to see him stand and remove his pants, the sight of his member springing from the band of his underwear making you squirm. Another wicked grin met his lips at your reaction and he was once again crawling over you, the feeling of his skin touching yours setting you on fire. His lips met yours hungrily and his hands once again roamed over you. Quickly his fingers started to play with your clit. You tried to be smug, focus on the fact that he was the one exploring his kinks but the feeling of his fingers on you and this new sensation running though your body you had never experienced before left you trying to quiet your moans.

"Does that feel good?" He said deeply as his lips move to your neck. You couldn't respond, all your attention was focused on the clenching feeling that was running through your body. You tried to speak, but only desperate moans came out.

"I asked you a question." He whispered putting his hand on your throat.

Instantly your body began to turn full static, your nerves screaming at every end. The feeling of the pressure against your throat making you feel so small, which was your favorite way to feel.

"Y/n?" Jackson said removing both of his hands again. You grunted annoyed as the orgasm you were so close to started to fade. You looked at him and propped yourself up on your elbows.

"I don't think I like that." He said nervously rubbing his neck. You smiled and nodded.

"Thats okay. How about you let me take care of you?" You said and his worried look turned excited as you repositioned yourself to crawl over him. "Daddy." You said now against his neck as you kissed down it.

"Now that? That I like." He said running his hands down your side and ending with a loud smack to your rear end

Straddling him you teased the tip of his member, loving the way it stood at attention. He groaned, the vibration of his voice against your lips once again making all of your nerves explode. His hands wrapped around your waist and pulled, bringing you down so he could fully submerge himself in you. The feeling of him stretching against your now over sensitive walls already had your legs tingling. The feeling of his arms tightly around you made you feel so small again.

You started to roll your hips, pumping slowly as you tried to regain your breath. Once you had control of yourself you arched your back so you could prop yourself up, hands on either side of Jacksons head. Your pace and his breath quickened, the sensation of you riding him taking over. He groaned as his fingers moving to grip tightly to your sides. You felt him reposition himself under you, bringing his knees up just enough so the fast pace trusting that now was erupting through your body was easier for him to accomplish.

"Ja.. Jackson!" You said as your head fell into his shoulder. He spanked you once before tightening his grip on you.

"Wrong." He growled, the sound of his dominate voice made you whimper.

"Daddy please." You moaned as his pace quickened once again.

You tried containing your moans but with the angle he was ponding you at made your breath hitch over and over again as you tried to moan out a simple 'daddy please.' When you finally got it out he chuckled before sitting up to make you lay on your back. Instantly he reached deeper hitting your most sensitive spot. You called out  making him laugh before thrusting into you deeper than before. You clawed at his back as he started to pick up pace again. The feeling of his new reach setting every nerve in your core on fire and the static start of your orgasm to be felt deep in your legs.

"Ah, daddy please!" You said a little too loud. His arm placed itself over your neck again and you looked at him with shocked eyes, the stactic intensifying.

"Be quiet baby girl." He growled, pumping faster.

You bit your lip to try and stifle the sound that was trying to escape from your throat. Your fingers dug into his back, trying to control the orgasm that was seconds away from exploding.

"Im going to cum, daddy please!" You whispered, the restraint on your neck making it easy for you to keep your voice down.

"Cum for me baby girl."

Seconds after saying that you head tilted back, pressing your neck further into his arm. You held tightly to his neck as your body started to shake, you tried to hold on to it a little longer, loving the feeling of your body being sent into euphoria.

"I said cum for me." He said, his own pumps becoming staggered. He hit your G-spot one last time before your entire body let go, causing you to hold tighter to the back of his neck as you tried to grasp at anything you could.

"What a good girl." He said and the feeling of him riding you through your orgasm ended as he pulled himself out and came all over your bare stomach.

He groaned deeply as he released himself. You couldn't help but smile, your head rolling to the side as he tucked his head into the crook of your neck. Your fingers softened and sorted started to play with his hair as the two of you caught your breath. The feeling of his lips kissing your neck made you chuckle.

"Thank you daddy." You said softly, chuckling again as he groaned loudly.

After cleaning you up and himself up he jumped back on his bed in a new pair of sweat pants after tossing you a shirt. You began to stand, your legs still slightly weak. You were half way to the door to take your place on the couch when Jackson called your name.

"You can stay in here if you want." He said propping himself up on his elbows.

"You might fall involve with me if I do." You said placing your hand on the door. You watched as he stood up and made his way over to you, shutting the door that you had started to open.

"Daddy wants you to stay." He whispered making you smirk.