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justagalwhowrites · 8 months ago

Text

Undone

After a stressful week at the office, Joel knows just how to take care of his wife. AKA Joel Miller doms the stress out of you.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: No Outbreak AU. Established relationship, husband and wife. Dom!Joel x Sub!Reader (light). Tiny little age gap (like 5 years? I'm picturing Joel at 44 and reader at 39?) Unprotected P in V sex. Oral sex, F receiving. Creampie. Overstimulation. Aftercare.

Length: 5.4k

A/N: This is totally self indulgent. It's also like... entirely smut. Sorry. But not really. OK love you bye!

Joel knew what you were after the minute you kicked the door closed.

It was Friday and it had been a hell of a week for you. Joel had done his best to support you through it - he’d finished up one big job on Tuesday and didn’t start the next one until Monday - so he’d taken the lead on keeping the household running while you put in extra hours and came home frustrated and exhausted every night.

He knew it wasn’t going to magically be better just because it was Friday, so he’d spent the day trying to make the end to your work week as good as he could. He went to the HEB and got your favorite snacks, picked out flowers for the kitchen table, even went by the liquor store on the way home to get everything you’d need to unwind at the end of your day. He started smoking ribs early that afternoon and was outside to sauce them when he heard the door slam behind you.

Joel didn’t need to see what happened, he knew from the sound that you’d thrown the door open and then kicked it shut behind you. He’d bet the check from his next job that you’d be face down on the couch, your shoes and briefcase a little trail from the front door to the living room. He shook his head, taking a swig of Shiner before closing the smoker and heading inside to find his wife.

You were exactly where he thought you’d be, taking up almost the entire length of the couch, flat on your stomach, blazer still on but your heels and bags scattered between you and the front door.

“Aw baby,” he said sympathetically. “That great a day, hm?”

You made a sound that was caught somewhere between a grunt and a groan.

“Want to talk about it?”

You made the sound again and Joel tried not to laugh at it.

“Here,” he said, coming and adjusting your legs so he could sit beside you on the couch. You groaned as he did but he guided you from lying on your stomach to sitting up to leaning on him, your face in his chest. He put his arm around you and gave you a squeeze. “Tell me what melted down.”

“We have our quarterly earnings release going out in less than two weeks,” you sighed. “And it’s a shit show. Legal’s been reviewing that shit for what feels like an eternity and I need to issue the goddamn release announcing the date of the full release but I can’t do that until I actually know that legal and financial are going to have stuff sorted in time and the CEO has emailed me twice a day about it the whole week because sure, the legal team definitely falls under my department…”

Joel held the still mostly full bottle of beer in front of you and you took it from him, your fingers brushing his and you were quiet for a moment as you took a sip before handing it back.

“Also, HR is going to be the death of me,” you continued, on a tear now. “I swear, it shouldn’t be that hard to find a qualified entry level candidate but here we are, still short staffed 10 weeks after I got the OK to hire. They’ve sent me two resumes, Joel. Two. I called them today to ask how many they’d received and they’ve had 226 candidates apply and they’ve sent me fucking two! I refuse to believe that just one percent of applicants were remotely qualified so I asked them to forward me all the applications since, apparently, recruiting can’t do their damn jobs so I’m going to have to do it for them…”

Joel nodded along, handing you the beer periodically when he felt you getting too worked up. He found himself, not for the first time, awed by what you did for a living. He didn’t understand much of it, really, and he was thankful he didn’t need to. He wasn’t cut out for that kind of shit. You, on the other hand, had jumped in with both feet when you’d started at your company seven years ago when the two of you had just started dating, You’d risen up the ranks quickly and you now had a team of several dozen people reporting up to you. As gentle and sweet as Joel knew you to be at your core, he knew you were also unflinchingly driven at work. During the COVID shut down, he’d gotten a glimpse of it, listening to you take people - mostly men who seemed to think you weren’t as capable as you clearly were - to task and get things done. He was eternally grateful that, when the two of you fought, you didn’t take him down the way you did people who crossed you in the office. Though that stood in sharp contrast to how Joel heard you talk to the people who reported up to you, with you seemingly always happy to lend an ear or provide guidance or take the heat if they fucked something up that was going outside your department.

Unfortunately, that meant you had weeks like this one, where plenty went wrong and you had no one to pass the buck to. And he knew as well as you did that you wouldn’t just let something fall apart, not if there was a damn thing you could do about it. Even if that meant working yourself into the ground.

After a while you just deflated against him and he handed you the beer again. You took a long drink, emptying the bottle, and Joel took it from you to set on the side table.

“Feelin’ better?” He asked, his nose brushing your hair.

“Kind of,” you sighed, pressing yourself closer to him.

“Somethin’ more I can do?” He asked, trying to make sure that he wasn’t nudging you in the direction he was hoping this would go.

“Yeah,” you said, something shifting in your tone when you said it. No longer frustrated and fed up, instead needy and wanting. You sat up from him and looked at him through your eyelashes, practically pouting. “Turn my brain off for a bit?”

Joel’s heart picked up, heat and tension already gathering low in him.

“Aw, my baby need me to fuck her stupid?” He asked, reaching out to cup your face in his hand. His thumb traced along the arch of your cheekbone as his eyes locked on your blown pupils. “You need me to make that big brain of yours slow down for a while, that it?”

“Yes please,” you breathed. He could feel your skin getting warmer below his touch.

“Please what?”

“Please sir,” you said, holding your hands up with your wrists together, like an offering. “Please fuck me stupid. Please sir.”

He quirked his jaw before he smiled, dark and low.

“Good girl,” he growled. He got up and closed his large hands around your wrists before pulling you sharply to your feet, looking you up and down as he did. There was something that drove him wild, seeing you like this. Dressed in your armor of the business world, a place where lesser men had to go to you for permission to do a goddamn thing, and you came home to him, begging him to strip you down to something small and vulnerable and easily consumed.

He wasn’t sure why you’d picked him of all people. When you’d met almost eight years earlier, his first thought was that you were way out of his fucking league. A friend of Tommy’s then girlfriend now wife, you were a few years younger than him but had clearly kept your life on the right fucking track the whole time instead of driving it into the ground for a while first. You’d gone to college, built a damn impressive career, had goals and dreams and plans for yourself. You were beautiful and smart and funny and kind and the first time he’d taken your clothes off he was still not entirely sure why you were letting him do it.

He’d been even more surprised the first time you’d shared with him that you wanted him to take control in the way he was now.

“I just have to make decisions all the time,” you’d said, folded into a corner of his couch with a glass of wine in your hands. “I just really want to have someone else take over for a while, you know? Not have to make any plans or take care of anybody else, just enjoy and be enjoyed.”

That, Joel had thought, he could give you.

It wasn’t something the two of you always indulged in but there were days like this one where you seemed to crave it. Maybe even a step beyond that - you needed it. You needed the safety of Joel’s guidance, the comfort of his control, the ease of his pleasure. He liked to give you those things. More than liked it, sometimes he lived for it.

Today was one of those days.

He led you to the bedroom and stood you at the foot of the bed, your wrists still firmly in his hands as his eyes searched yours.

“You just want to be my little doll, is that it?” He asked, his thumbs brushing the inside of your wrists. Your pulse was heavy and hard. “Want me to take control so all you have to do is feel what I let you feel?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Yes what.”

“Yes sir,” you were practically squirming.

“What are your colors,” he said more than asked.

“Green, yellow, red,” you answered quickly.

“Where are you now?”

“Green.”

“Good girl,” he guided your hands so they hung at your sides. “Don’t move until I tell you.”

He watched you resist the urge to nod and he slipped his hands below the lapels of your jacket, running his hands over your skin for a moment before shoving the sleeves down your arms and leaving the blazer in a pile on the floor. He watched you swallow, your throat working and he tried not to think about making you kneel and taking his cock into that pretty throat of yours. He knew just how good it would feel while you sucked him, how fucking good it would feel to come down your throat.

Maybe later. Right now, he needed to take care of you. And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

***

When Joel touched you like this, it was like something unspooled inside yourself. There had been a knot in your stomach for days at least - maybe longer - and nothing had worked to untangle it. Not crossing things off your to do list at the office, not the yoga class you’d skipped lunch to take, not the iced latte your assistant had ducked out to grab you that afternoon. But Joel’s hands on your skin as they slipped the slender straps of your satin top down your arms were better than anything else, especially when your mind wasn’t going a mile a minute thinking of ways to please him in return. You watched as he moved to undress you, his eyes heavy and hot and hungry as your top pooled around your hips. He reached around your body to unhook your bra, casting it aside before cupping your breasts in his large palms, groaning as he did.

“You feel so good,” his thumbs brushed your nipples. “My soft, pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Joel,” you whimpered, clenching your hands into fists to keep from reaching out to touch him. He’d told you to stay still and you had to obey. If you didn’t, you knew he’d drag out your first orgasm for what felt like an eternity, bringing you just to the edge of it but never letting you fall into your climax until you were a desperate, dripping, squirming mess.

“What, baby?” He almost cooed at you, just a hint of a teasing edge to his tone. “What’s my baby need?”

“More,” you whined. “I need more, please, I need…”

He took his hands off you then and looked you in the eye and you almost reached for him before you caught yourself.

“Who decides what you need right now,” he said. You moaned and he ignored you. “Who. Tell me, pretty girl.”

“You,” you said.

“That’s right,” he nodded. “And I’ll give you more when I decide you need more and I decide I’m done enjoyin’ the parts of you I’m enjoyin’ right now. So. You stand still like a good little doll and we’ll see when I’ll let you have more. Got it?”

“Yes,” you said.

He took your chin in his fingers, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“Yes what.”

“Yes sir.”

His crooked smile dimpled his cheek.

“Good girl.”

He returned to touching you, running his large and callused hands over your shoulders to your chest, holding and massaging your breasts and you could tell he was taking his time less for himself and more because he knew what it was doing to you. That it was making you achy and desperate and the thoughts that had been weighing on you all day at the office were slipping out of your mind, drifting far away into the ether.

“Think I remember you sayin’ something about more?” Joel said, his voice low and gravelly as his hand slipped over your stomach, below the bunched fabric of your shirt, below the waistband of your pants until his fingertips were brushing your bare mound inside your panties. You whimpered. “How about I give you some more, hm?”

His index finger reached out and brushed the top of your clit, sending a shiver through you, all the heat you had inside yourself pooling low in your stomach.

Joel chuckled.

“Think she likes it.”

He pressed a little lower, a little firmer, working your sensitive nub in slow, languid circles.

“She like this too?”

You nodded frantically.

“Thought I told you not to move,” Joel said, stern.

“But…”

“No buts,” he cut you off. “You wanted to give me control so you give me control. Otherwise, you won’t get what you want. Got it?”

“Yes sir.”

“You’re lucky,” he said as he went to open your pants. “Got me all worked up, too. Too worked up to draw this out the way you deserve, squirmin’ the way you are.”

He got on his knees in front of you and gathered the fabric of your shirt, pants and underwear in his hands and pulled them all down in one go, the sudden exposure of your skin to the air making you gasp and goosebumps scatter over you in sharp little pin pricks.

“Fuck, there you are,” he groaned, his hands coming to grip the thick swell of your ass, his fingers digging into the meat of you as he pressed a kiss to your stomach just below your belly button. You moaned, wanting nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his curls. You clenched your fists tighter, nails digging into your palms, acutely aware of where he was touching you because of the absence of him everywhere else.

He trailed his mouth down to your slit, his tongue dipping into you there, brushing against your clit, the heat of his mouth in sharp contrast to the cold air against your wetness. His hands slipped up your back, finding your waist before Joel stood, his still clothed body so close to your naked one.

“Lie down for me,” he said, a little breathless. “Middle of the bed.”

You rushed to obey and watched hungrily as Joel undressed himself, his black t-shirt coming up and over his head, his jeans opening to reveal his tight boxer briefs with his thick, hard cock straining the fabric. He took off everything before crawling up the bed over you and, for half a moment, you thought he really was going to give into you that quickly, give you exactly what you wanted that fast. But instead of settling between your thighs with his heavy length brushing against your slit and his mouth on yours, he fell to the side of you, the weight of him jostling the mattress. You turned your head to look at him, confused, and he laughed, dark and low.

“You didn’t think you were gonna make me give in that fast, did you?” He asked. He slid one arm below your ribs, his hand coming up and around the back of you to hold your breast while his other hand teased a feather light path down from your throat, over your chest, your stomach to your slit. “No, not done with this yet.”

“But…”

“You just lie still and let me worship you,” he said, his palm cupping your mound, his middle finger settling between your lower lips as he put gentle pressure against your clit. The tip of his finger circled your dripping entrance but didn’t slip inside where you were aching and desperate for him. “Want to enjoy you for a while.”

He didn’t give you a chance to protest, his mouth finding just the right spot on your throat at the same moment he added pressure to your clit, grinding his hand against your most tender place and making your back arch below his touch.

Joel kissed and licked and sucked along your neck, your collarbone, your breast, his cock brushing against your thigh as he manipulated your body and you could feel his precome on your skin when it did and you were desperate to touch him there, to feel just how hard you’d made him, make him start to unravel the way he was doing to you.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, a finger sliding inside of you, making you groan.

“But I want…”

He pulled back from you to look in your eyes and you could tell from the glassy look on his face that you probably already looked like a fucked out mess.

“You tryin’ to make me feel good or you want it for yourself?” He asked, brows raised. You tried to find the words but couldn’t. He nodded. “S’what I thought, you sit still like I fuckin’ told you. You try to touch me and I won’t let you come, got it? This is about you, not me so you’re gonna lay there and take it, understand?”

“Yes sir,” you whimpered.

He went back to working you over, adjusting so that he could fully kiss down your body until his head was between your thighs, two fingers buried inside of you as he looked up your body to your face.

“New rules,” he said, pressing his lips to your clit for a moment and sucking it into his mouth before continuing. “Want you to come and I want you to come hard. You’re allowed to touch my head to put me where you need but you do anything else with those hands and we’re startin’ over. Understood?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl.”

He practically dove into your pussy, his thumb working your clit, his tongue licking deep into your channel. The fire in your belly burned brighter and it was like you could feel all the blood in your body pulling into the center of you. Your hands flew to his head, the thick of his hair and the heat of his scalp almost sharp against your fingers after having felt nothing but your own palms for what felt like forever. You rocked your hips against his face as he ate at you, a finger slipping into you alongside his tongue, working the inside of you deftly so that you were never empty but never lacking the friction of him moving in you. His fingertip curled into the soft, sensitive place inside of you that he found so easily now, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his thumb and nose worked your clit and you felt your pussy get so tight and hot you worried, for half a second, that it would hurt him before every worry flew out of your head entirely, your entire body flooded with waves of pleasure as you came on his tongue.

Joel worked you through your orgasm, never letting up as you moaned and panted, your grip on his hair easing as your body started to go limp. Your pussy was so sensitive when your climax eased but Joel didn’t pay your little whimpers any mind. He pulled his mouth from you but added another finger, fucking into you with his hand and adjusting so his palm was grinding against your clit as he did.

“There you go,” he panted, wiping your slick from his mouth before taking his cock in his hand and working himself with it. “That what you needed, pretty girl?”

“Yes sir,” you whimpered.

“Good,” he said, his eyes ranging over you, dark and hot. “Because now it’s my turn.”

He pulled his fingers from you and spread your thighs a little wider, lining his cock up with your still weakly grasping hole for half a moment before thrusting deep into you in one devastating go. You gasped at the stretch of him filling you like that, the inside of you still soft and tender from your orgasm. Your fingers scrambled at the blanket below you, your back arched and taut and you tried to hold onto something - anything - in your head beside how he was splitting you open.

“I say you could use your hands like that?” He asked, his fingers finding your wrists and clamping around them. He pressed deep inside you and folded over you, bringing your hands with him, pressing your wrists down into the mattress over your head. “Didn’t think so. You’re my little doll right now, ain’t you? Mine to do what I want with and I want you to take it.”

“Joel,” you whimpered.

“That ain’t my name right now, is it?”

“Sir,” you corrected, resisting the urge to rock your hips up against him. “Please!”

“Please what?”

You couldn’t put words to what you wanted to ask for and Joel just smirked before releasing your wrists and sitting up, looking down over your body to where he disappeared inside of it.

“What I thought,” he said, his hands pressing your thighs wide before his thumb trailed over where you were split open on him to your clit, teasing you in a slow circle that made you jerk involuntarily below him. He took it away, his hand on the soft flesh of your thigh again. “You leave those hands there and take it. You can take it, pretty girl. Know you can.”

With that, he pulled back, slow and aching, before fucking back into you, hard and fast with a forceful grunt. You watched him fuck you, his cock slamming into you with enough force that it jerked your body up and down the bed. You were lost in it, the way you could see his muscles flex, the way his eyes ranged over you - watching the place he was spreading you open and the way your tits bounced for him and up to your face to meet your eyes and back again. It was almost hypnotic, like there was nothing else in the world that existed outside of him. He was controlling you totally, fucking into you with enough force that you couldn’t even breathe out of sync with his thrusts, your body just something he could manipulate and pleasure and use however he saw fit.

You weren’t sure how long he fucked you like that before his hands ran over your thighs to your core, his thumbs brushing along your clit, pressing into you there and working you in hard little circles as your channel started to tighten around him again.

“There we go,” he panted. “Got another one right there don’t you? You’re gonna give it to me, aren’t you pretty girl. Gonna give me everything, ain’t you?”

“Yes sir,” you whined, your fingernails digging into your palms as you fought to keep your hands still.

“Good girl,” he pressed himself deep as he worked your clit and returned to his same punishing rhythm, the head of him finding the place inside you he’d claimed for himself. He left one thumb on your clit, his other hand stretching up and over your stomach, fingers splaying wide on you until it was in the middle of your chest where you knew he could feel how your heart was pounding behind your ribs. The feel of him everywhere was overwhelming, the tight spool of pleasure that had never fully relaxed after your first orgasm already wound unbearably tight again.

“Want you to come for me,” he said, voice needy. “Want you to be a good girl and come. Give it all to me, baby, want you to just let go and give it all to me, let it all go, c’mon and come for me, make me fuckin’ feel it…”

You cried out as you obeyed, your channel fluttering over his cock as he kept fucking you deep and hard. You could feel your orgasm in the very center of you, in every muscle and every nerve, your climax taking hold of you so firmly that you felt a gush of liquid rush out of you.

“Fuck, there you go,” he said, not letting up. “Fuck baby, love when you squirt for me, such a good fuckin’ girl…”

The wet snap of his hips into you was obscene and, as your orgasm eased, your body was already drawing tight again. Your heart raced and you could feel everything, everything, so sharp and harsh and overwhelming. Your head swam, your skin prickled.

“Love feeling you come for me,” Joel was still fucking into you, hard and bruising like he was trying to climb inside your skin and claim a place for himself there. “Love when you get all tight and desperate, love making you all needy…”

You let out a fucked out little whimper, tears pricking at your eyes, not able to see straight through the haze of your already building orgasm. Joel leaned over you, his cock buried deep but going still.

“You with me, pretty girl?” He asked, his hands sliding up your arms to find your wrists, holding you gently in place. You couldn’t seem to find the words to answer, too overstimulated to think of anything beyond how he was filling you and surrounding you. “Gimme a color, baby.”

“Yellow,” you managed.

He took your limp wrists in his large palms and guided your hands to his skin, resting them on his broad shoulders.

“That help?” He asked. “You can nod.”

You nodded quickly, your breathing evening out, body still tight and strung out.

“Color?”

“Green,” you said, the tears that were in your eyes slipping down your cheeks but not being replaced by new ones.

“Good,” he shifted inside you, pulling back a little before thrusting in again. “Because I ain’t done with you yet. You keep those hands right where I put ‘em and just focus on coming one more time for me, need you to milk me dry, baby.”

But his pace eased, less frantic and more desperate, working you slow and firm from within. He buried his face into your neck, his mouth finding that place that sent shocks of pleasure through your whole body. His hands ranged over you, fingers hungry and grasping at your skin, his hips working against your clit as his cock found its home deep within you.

“Know you’re close,” he said against your skin, lips still close enough to brush against you as he spoke. He kissed along your neck, nose teasing along your throat. “You got one more in you, baby, I know you do.”

“Sir,” you whimpered, pleading, not sure if you wanted to come or wanted to just dissolve.

“You can come,” he fucked you slow and deep. His public bone pressed against your clit and your back arched. “Want you to come, want to feel you come. Make me feel you, baby. Be a good girl and make me feel you.”

You dared to let yourself move, just enough that you could rock your hips up against him, working yourself with his body as you felt him grow impossibly thicker and harder inside you. Or, maybe, you were just tightening further around him, body clinging to him in one last desperate push for closeness as your climax hit again. You cried out with it and you couldn’t just leave your hands on Joel’s shoulders, instead latching onto his hair and sliding down his back, pulling him flush against your body so the only thing left in the world was him and his skin and the thick of his cock as he started to pulse inside of you.

Your orgasm almost hurt it was so intense. You could feel every inch of Joel’s cock in you, the heat and softness of his skin against you, every muscle in your body going rigid and tense for a moment before relaxing. Your vision went spotty and you got light headed and you lost track of time.

The next thing you knew, you were in Joel’s arms, cradled against his chest, his fingers trailing a gentle path along the edge of your hairline and jaw, thumb brushing the plush of your lips.

“There you are,” he said softly and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his large hand coming to rest against your cheek as you turned your head to look at him. His eyes were soft and warm and there was a gentle smile on his face. “How are you feelin’ love?”

You took stock of your body for a moment, everything feeling light and airy.

“I’m good,” you smiled a little.

“Yeah?” He said, his thumb brushing your cheek. “Take a deep breath for me, OK?”

You nodded a little and did as you were told, only realizing then just how little your lungs had been inflating before.

“How’s that feelin’?” He asked. “Good?”

You just nodded, still smiling.

“How about this for the night,” he said, going back to tracing an easy trail over your skin with his fingertips. “In a few minutes, I get up and get you water and a cocktail while you put on that pretty little swimsuit of yours. You float in the water while I look at ya and finish those ribs in the smoker…”

“You’re making me ribs?” You almost pouted, your brows going up.

Joel chuckled.

“Yeah, that OK?”

“That’s my favorite,” you said, feeling like you might be about to cry.

“I know it is, baby,” he said, kissing your temple again. “S’why I made ‘em. Got that potato salad you like, green beans, cornbread too. Even got that chocolate cake you like so much…”

“The Oreo one?” You sniffed, tearing up.

“The Oreo one,” he brushed your hair back. “You still with me there baby?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, crying a little. You weren’t entirely sure why, just every emotion you’d had over the past week seeming to bubble up at once. “I think so…”

“You’re OK,” Joel said, pulling you closer, his lips gentle on your skin. “I’ve got you.”

You just nodded against him and focused on how his skin felt on yours, his warmth and strength grounding while your mind was still swimming.

“What about after dinner?” You sniffed.

“We can watch one of those movies you like so much,” he said. “I know the ones that’ve been on your list, you don’t gotta pick unless you want to. Sound good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “But… can we just stay here for a little while first? Please?”

“Course baby,” he said. “Whatever you need. I’ll take care of you.”

You nuzzled into his skin and breathed deep and you didn’t really know why you’d been so stressed when you got home to begin with. You just knew that you had Joel and that, as long as he was there, everything else would be OK.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic #dom!joel miller

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turcott3 · 7 months ago

Text

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.” you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

#cole caufield #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield smut #cole caufield x reader #montreal canadiens #nhl #nhl imagine #turcs’ talk

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kanmom51 · 4 months ago

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Jikook in bed - Part 3

Are you sure?! Episodes 4 and 5

Before we get started, a little reminder of parts 1 & 2.

Let me start by saying that the occurrences in this post directly follow the whole ramen convo saga.

After speaking ramen and showering (notice how I haven't added the word "separately" there?🤣 ), and spending some time together downstairs all cozy and everything, they both decide to go to bed.

Let's talk about the pre-sleep coziness for a sec before moving on.

Watching the SNTY choreo and talking about it. JM loving the choreo.

Nothing new here folks.

We also got to learn, once again, just how 'informed' they are of each other's business. That's a nice way of saying they know shit about each other even if we don't tell us they do. Like, JM knowing that JK hasn't slept since NY, including on the flight. And if we're on the sleep talk already then funny how JK didn't know his 'husband' 'is struggling with sleeping lately.

And then, as we got to learn throughout the show, the two, once again, make a joint decision to go to bed.

Enough of that.

Let's get to the juicy part of this post, why don't we?

We start it off the two entangled.

JK has zero issue with JM's feet basically in his face.

Well, he did say JM's toes are cute, so...

Do we notice how JK goes for JM's ankle?

Now holding on to JM's foot with both hands (his mobile in his left hand).

And then letting go.

Reminded me of this moment.

And this one too.

JM going for the hug and JK pulling his hand in.

And they stay like that.

We don't know for just how long.

Discussing sleeping together.

It's not about "are you sleeping with me here?" or "where are you sleeping?"

It's "don't hit my nose today... if you do I'll hit you too..."

No questions asked.

Just facts!!!

How long were they just laying like that, calm, intertwined, BEING?

And they clearly do fall asleep together both laying over the covers.

The editors making sure to let us know that the two were sleeping on that one bed.

That angle of the lone empty third bed. Was it really necessary?

But you'll say: JK moved at some point to the third bed. Yes he did. And why? He already fell asleep on the bed with JM.

There is a purposeful omitting of JK waking up and moving to the third bed. They cameras were rolling, and they clearly could have shown us what happened. Makes you wonder why they didn't show us.

My uneducated guess would be that he moved to the bed on the floor because he was cold at night, and didn't want to wake up JM (they fell asleep over the covers and getting under the cover might have woken JM up). We do see JK covered in the morning. A guess, no more.

That was night 1 of Jeju.

Night 2 is a little different. This time they automatically split into 2 beds. Question I ask is why? Were they told to? Did they think it was better that way?

youtube

Either way, we see how JK insists on taking the bed on the floor.

And no, that flimsy excuse of preferring the less soft bed doesn't stand with me. I'm going to go with JK not wanting JM to sleep on the floor. Where Tae was supposed to be sleeping, btw. Funny how that worked out...

And yes, they didn't share a bed for the night, but JM sure couldn't go without his morning cuddles.

Understandable.

Notice how we never see JM getting up? We have zero idea just how much time they lay on JK like that cuddling him. Sob sob. I'm going to go with it not being short lived, which is why they cut the footage.

Ok, so that basically wraps up the 4 nights. 2 in CT (the actual night they spent together in bed the whole night we got zero footage of) and 2 in Jeju.

But how can I end this post without JM's wake up alarm for JK? Waking up is still about bed, right?

youtube

When I first saw this I didn't get what was going on... and why JM thought it was so funny.

Well, until I saw this.

Those two...

🤣🤣

#Jikook #Kookmin #Minkook #Jungkook #Jimin #JK #JM #Are you sure? Jikook #Are you sure? Jeju

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goblinontour · 6 months ago

Text

Nothing Gold Can Stay

a different side of him…and it’s really hot

part 5 | series masterlist

warnings: prof!al, age gap (not specified), smut, oral (m/f receiving), piv, spanking, orgasm denial(ish), backshots!!!

word count: 9.5k

It was hot. Unbearably hot. With the academic year winding down, you and Alex spent more and more time at home, finishing up final assignments and reports. Alex couldn’t stand it. He hated this part. Office hours were dull, writing reports even more so, and working from home felt more like a prison sentence than anything. But having you there made it slightly more bearable. A lot more bearable actually…If only the heat wasn't so stifling.

Alex couldn’t focus. He let you use his office for your studies, so you kind of claimed it as yours subconsciously. So he found himself wandering the house aimlessly, the oppressive heat making it hard to think straight. He peered into the office, seeing you deeply engrossed in your work at his desk.

You didn't notice him at first, but when you looked up, your eyes widened. Alex stood at the door, completely naked except for the chain around his neck and the tattoo on his arm. He caught your gaze, looking at him, staring, eyeing him up and down, and if you weren’t so shocked you maybe would have noticed him smirking at your reaction.

“What? Did you expect me to wear a suit in my own house? I’m choosing comfort today…and it’s so fucking hot.” he declared, moving to the sofa but never taking his eyes off you.

He lounged there for a moment, but his restless energy got the better of him. He began pacing the room, his presence an insistent reminder of his proximity. You tried to concentrate on your work, but his pacing, his very existence, was distracting you.

Finally, he approached you, sliding into your lap on the office chair. His skin was warm and sticky against yours, and you could feel his frustration with the heat radiating off him.

“God, it’s so hot in here.” he murmured, starting to unbutton your shirt slowly.

You raised an eyebrow. “I get that, but why are you unbuttoning my shirt?”

He grinned, pausing to kiss your neck. “First of all, it’s my shirt.” Another kiss. “And second…” His lips brushed against your skin, sending shivers despite the heat, “I can’t have you overheating in here, darling…you should thank me.”

His kisses grew more insistent, and despite the sweltering heat, you felt a different kind of warmth spreading through you. And yet, you couldn’t help but laugh, pushing him back slightly.

“If this is your idea of keeping cool, you’re doing a terrible job.” you teased, but there was no mistaking the affection in your voice.

He chuckled, nuzzling against your neck. “Maybe. But at least it’s more interesting than writing reports.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“How are your boobs?” he asked, trying to stay serious, but you could tell he was playing.

You gave him a playful look, “They're just fine?”

“Let me see.” he insisted, grabbing one in his hand and acting as if he were inspecting it carefully. You stared at him, confused.

“What? I just wanted to make sure they're okay.” he said with mock seriousness.

You looked at him, trying to hold your expression, but then both of you burst out laughing. He kissed you again, this time with a deeper, lingering passion. His lips moved against yours, making you forget the heat, the work, everything but the feel of him.

His kissing became more telling, his lips moving with a slow, deliberate passion that sent shivers through you despite the oppressive heat. His mouth was warm and wet, his tongue dancing with yours, exploring and tasting. You could feel every movement, every shift of his lips against yours, soft yet demanding.

As his hips pressed closer, you felt the unmistakable hardness of his cock brushing against your thigh. Each subtle grind, each slow movement, teased both of you, slowly but surely building the anticipation. His breath hitched slightly with each thrust, the friction driving him to the brink.

You broke the kiss for a moment, your eyes meeting his, dark with desire. He smirked at how quickly he got you turned on, but it was edged with his own need. “You know,” he murmured, his voice husky, “If anyone walked by right now, they’d have quite the view.”

You glanced over his shoulder, realising you were right in front of the window. The thought sent a thrill through you, adding to the already heady mix of sensations. “Maybe I should open it," he continued to tease, “Let them hear us too. But it’s too hot even for that.”

You chuckled, but the sound caught in your throat as he ground his hips harder, the slow friction against his cock making him moan softly. “I’m so in the mood for a lazy fuck.” he confessed, sounding almost desperate.

You tried to muster some resistance, remembering the work waiting on the desk. “Alex, I’m busy, I can’t-“

He silenced you with another kiss, his lips pressing firmly against yours. “I’m your professor, you can’t say no to this.” he whispered, his voice a mix of pleading and confidence, his hands continuing their slow, deliberate movements.

You managed a playful smirk. “Is that so, Mr. Turner?”

“Mhm.” he replied, lips brushing against your neck. But you still shook your head, pushing him back gently.

“No, Alex. I really can’t.”

He sighed dramatically, “Ugh, fine.”

Sliding down from the chair onto his knees, he spread your thighs apart. The sticky sound of your skin peeling from the leather echoed in the room, adding to the already charged atmosphere. His eyes darkened as he saw your panties peeking from underneath the oversized shirt. The thin fabric barely concealed your arousal, and his breath hitched slightly at the sight.

With a mischievous grin, he pushed the light fabric of his shirt you were wearing to the side, teasing you over the material of your underwear. The subtle, playful touch made you jump, a spark of unexpected sensitivity coursing through you.

“Keep working.” he murmured, his voice laced with amusement and command.

His fingers traced light patterns over your panties, feeling the growing dampness. He watched in fascination as the material darkened with your wetness, a visual testament to your arousal. With a deft movement, he pulled your panties aside, revealing your glistening pussy. He took a moment to just look, his eyes drinking in the sight, his cock hardening and twitching at the view.

“God, you're so pretty.” he whispered, almost to himself.

His fingers returned, slipping past your slick lips, playing in the wetness. The sensation was electrifying, each touch sending jolts of pleasure through you. He found your clit between the tight folds of flesh and began flicking it, his movements precise and careful, driving you to the edge. The heat of his touch contrasted with the cool feeling of the wetness hitting the air, making every sensation more intense.

For him, the feeling was intoxicating. His cock, painfully hard, occasionally brushed against the floor from his position, the rough surface adding an unexpected layer of friction that only fueled his desire. The sight of your arousal, the way your body responded to his touch, made his own need almost unbearable.

He didn’t care about himself now though, his poor cock leaking precum onto the floor. No. All he wanted right now was to play with you, to watch you unravel under his touch. His fingers danced around your clit, flicking it with increasing intensity, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you. The wet sounds of his fingers moving in your slickness filled the room, a symphony to his ears.

He leaned in and his tongue flicked out, tasting your arousal, his lips following in the path of his fingers. The feeling was exquisite, his mouth warm and wet, every movement thought out perfectly to tease you. His cock twitched with every moan you made, his own arousal a constant reminder of his need for you.

Sweat quickly built up and dripped from the top of his thighs all the way to his knees, making the floor slick. He almost slipped, catching himself just in time, his movements becoming more deliberate and cautious. Your own thighs were slipping on the chair, the leather sticking to your skin from the heat and the sensations he was drawing out of you.

As he slipped a finger inside you, the wet squelching noises increased, growing louder and more obscene. The sound was intoxicating, a proof of just how turned on you were. He bit your inner thigh, the sharp sting pulling a gasp from your lips, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of desire and a plea for you to give in to him.

“Come on,” he murmured, his voice rough with need, "I need this. I need you."

The taste of you was addictive, a heady mix of salt and sweetness that coated his tongue and left him craving more. Each flick of his tongue was calculated to draw out your moans, his mouth exploring every inch of you. His fingers curled inside you, the slick, warm wetness enveloping them, the rhythm of his movements both torturous and perfect.

Your body reacted to his touch in ways you couldn’t control. His teasing strokes were too light, each one sending frustrating sparks of pleasure that left you wanting more. He lapped at you with slow movements, savouring every taste, every reaction you gave him.

His own pleasure was an afterthought, a dull ache between his thighs as his cock kept brushing against the slick floor. The sensation was maddening, the friction only adding to his desperate need. He bit down gently on your inner thigh again, a silent plea for you to give in, to let him have what he wanted.

The room was filled with the wet, lewd sounds of his fingers moving inside you, the intensity of the sensations making it hard to focus on anything else. His whispered pleas and the feeling of his mouth and hands on you were driving you to the edge, the line between pleasure and desperation blurring with every touch.

You couldn't resist any longer. The pen slipped from your fingers, everything you were working on forgotten. How could you even think you could concentrate with his mouth and fingers driving you insane? Grabbing his head, you bent down and kissed him, catching him off guard. He didn't have time to react, his fingers still buried inside you. You slipped your tongue into his mouth, tasting yourself on him. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, his wet, warm tongue meeting yours as you deepened the kiss, pulling him closer and surrendering to the heat of the moment.

You could feel his surprise melt into hunger, his kiss growing more urgent as he responded. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him more than anything else at that moment. His fingers continued their teasing movements inside you, the wet sounds mingling with the taste of your own juices on his tongue. It was intoxicating, overwhelming.

His other hand roamed up your body, slipping under the oversized shirt, his touch sending shivers through you despite the oppressive heat. You could feel his cock, hard and leaking, pressing against your thigh, the slick floor making his movements more frantic. He shifted, trying to find a better angle, almost slipping again, his breath hitching in frustration and desire.

You pulled back from the kiss, your lips brushing against his as you whispered, “I can't think when you do that.”

“That's the point.” he murmured back, his voice rough with need. He thrust his fingers deeper, curling them inside you, the sensation making you gasp. “I want you to feel nothing but this.”

You could barely hold back a moan, your thighs slipping on the chair as he pushed you closer to the edge. The heat was unbelievers, the sweat mixing with the wetness between your legs, amplifying every touch, every sensation. You could feel his need, his desperation, in every movement, every kiss.

His teeth grazed your neck, his breath hot against your already burning skin as he kissed his way down your body. He reached your chest, his mouth closing around a nipple, sucking gently before biting down, just enough to make you gasp. His fingers never stopped their relentless teasing, the wet noises growing louder, filthier.

You grabbed his head again, pulling him back up to kiss him, your tongue slipping into his mouth, tasting the salt of your sweat mixed with the sweetness of his need. His fingers slipped out of you, and he bent back down to replace them with his tongue, diving into your wetness, licking and sucking with a desperation that mirrored your own.

His tongue flicked against your clit, making it impossible to think, to do anything but feel, just like he said he wanted. Your hips bucked against his mouth, your body responding to his every touch, every kiss. He was relentless, his need alone driving him, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

His fingers joined his tongue, slipping back inside of you, curling and thrusting in rhythm with his licks. The sensations were too much, too overwhelming, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, ready to fall.

“Alex…” you gasped, your hands gripping the sides of the chair, trying to hold on to something, anything, as he drove you closer to your orgasm. Or to insanity. Maybe both. "I-I can't...I need…”

He bit your inner thigh again, harder this time, pulling a scream from your lips. “Give in to me.” he murmured, his voice rough and desperate. “Let go. I need you to let go.”

And with that, you did. The wave of pleasure crashed over you, pulling you under, your body trembling and shaking with the force of it. You could feel him smiling against your skin, his tongue and fingers never stopping, driving you through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were nothing but a quivering, panting mess.

He rested his head on your thigh for a moment, catching his breath. The sheen of sweat on his brow glistened in the dim light, his chest rising and falling heavily.

“Have I earned my fuck now?” he asked, his voice joking but clearly out of breath, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

You chuckled, equally breathless. “Yeah.”

He sat up, balancing himself on the edge of the desk for a moment before picking you up from the chair. His grip was firm yet gentle, the warmth of his hands seeping through your skin. He settled into the chair, then pulled you back onto his lap, your still clothed back pressed against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against you.

Alex's hands roamed over your body, fingers tracing the contours of your curves, enjoying the feel of your heated skin against his. His lips found the curve of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses there, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. The heat between you was almost too much, beads of sweat forming and mingling on your skin, but you didn’t mind it at this point. You could feel his cock pressing insistently against you, the hard length of him pulsing with need.

His hands snaked around you, his fingers dipping below the waistband of your panties. He pushed them down just enough, letting them slide to your knees before they dropped to the floor. The whole time, his hard cock rubbed between your arsecheeks, slick with both his precum and sweat, making it easy for him to slide against your skin.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice thick with anticipation. You nodded, feeling his hand guide his cock to your entrance. He slid inside you smoothly, the wetness making it effortless, yet the tightness due to your position made it all the more intense.

“Fuck…” he swore, his voice a low growl. “So tight...so perfect.”

Every inch of him was buried inside you, and you could feel his body shudder against yours. The sensation of him filling you completely, combined with the overwhelming heat, created a heady mix of pleasure and discomfort that was maddeningly good.

You gasped, gripping his thighs for support as he began to move, his strokes slow and deliberate, savouring the feeling of your walls clenching around him. The friction was exquisite, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through both of you. Everything was wet, slick with sweat and arousal, amplifying every movement, every touch.

“Take the shirt off.” Alex murmured, his voice rough.

You glanced at the window and shook your head. “But the window-”

“I don’t care.” he replied, his words taking a more commanding tone. He reached for the collar of the shirt and pulled it down from your shoulders. There was a momentary cool sensation, but the feeling of his hands roaming your now exposed body quickly brought the heat back. He kept the shirt in his hand, occasionally wiping the sweat from his forehead to keep it from dripping onto his face.

Alex's hands slid down your sides, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you firmly against him as he thrust into you. The rhythm he set was slow and deep, each thrust a measured stroke that made you feel all of him. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, the tightness of your position making every sensation more intense.

“God, you're amazing.” he murmured. His lips brushed against your ear, sending shivers down your spine again despite the heat. "So fucking wet...I can't get enough of you."

His words sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, and you could feel yourself clenching around him in response. Alex groaned, his grip on your waist tightening as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more demanding. The chair creaked beneath you, adding to the symphony of sounds filling the room. The wetness of your bodies moving together, the ragged breaths, the low moans of pleasure.

You could feel the sweat dripping down your back, mingling with his, making your bodies slide against each other with each movement. The heat was suffocating, but it only seemed to reel him further. Alex's fingers dug into your hips, guiding you as you moved together, each thrust pushing you closer to the brink.

He tried to take his chain off from around his neck but couldn't manage one-handed, his other hand wrapped tightly around you, keeping you from falling off his lap. “Help me take this off, please.” he said, his voice strained.

You didn’t understand at first, so he clarified, “The chain. Now, please. I can’t-”

You placed your left leg over his thigh, your other hanging between his legs, turning enough to unclasp the gold necklace for him. “Nothing gold can stay.” you whispered, stopping to kiss him. His thrusts slowed as well, your position making it difficult for him to move.

“Poetic…I thought that was my thing.” he whispered back between heavy breaths. “Any hidden meaning to that?”

“Are you asking me if I think we’ll last?” you asked.

“Hmm…so you’re saying we’re gold, huh?” he teased.

“I think we are.” you said.

“Yeah, you’re just as pretty…”

“And you’re just as soft, Mr. Turner.” you replied.

He responded with a hard thrust, making you moan and cling to him tighter. “Soft?” he asked jokingly, proceeding to push you forward, steadying yourself on the edge of the desk.

The shift in position intensified everything, making his movements even more pronounced. He resumed his rhythm, each thrust getting more powerful. You could feel the friction of his cock sliding in and out, the tension building with every stroke.

Alex's breath was hot against your back as he whispered, “You're driving me crazy, you know that?”

Your response was a breathless moan, the intensity of his thrusts stealing your words. His hands moved to your hips, gripping tightly, guiding you back into his hips as he pushed deeper inside you.

“Tell me how it feels.” he demanded, his voice rough and desperate.

“It feels…amazing.” you managed to gasp out, your nails digging into the wood for support. “So deep, so good…”

He groaned in response, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more erratic. The sweat dripping from his forehead onto your back made you twitch in his hold. You could feel the tension building inside you, the pressure mounting with each thrust.

“I’m close.” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“Me too.” he replied, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. “So close,” he groaned, his voice strained with effort, “I can't hold back much longer.”

“Don't.” you whispered, your own voice breathless with need. “Come inside me, I want to feel you.”

Alex still wasn't entirely used to coming inside you, despite you being on the pill for a while now. He loved the feeling, though, always waiting for your permission each time. The sensation of filling you up so deep, of his cum spreading around his cock as he fucked it into you, was something he cherished every single time.

He groaned as he thrust deeply into you, the slickness of your combined arousal making each movement more intense. “Fuck.” he swore, the word barely escaping his lips as his orgasm built. You felt his cock throb inside you, a sign of his impending release.

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself completely within you, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he held you in place. The heat of his release filled you, spreading warmth throughout your core. He shuddered against you, his breaths ragged and heavy as he emptied himself inside you.

You gasped at the sensation, the fullness and warmth of his cum making you feel complete. His thrusts slowed but continued, each movement pushing his release deeper, mingling with your own.

“Fuck, I love this,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction, “Feeling you take all of me…”

You tightened around him in response, eliciting another groan from his lips. “I love it too.” you whispered, your body still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm.

He finally stilled, his head resting against your shoulder, both of you panting and spent. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as you both basked in the afterglow, the heat long forgotten.

For a moment, neither of you moved, both too spent to do anything but hold each other. Finally, Alex pulled back slightly, his breath still coming in heavy pants. He pulled you back against his chest and held you tightly, heaving with each breath, his lips pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck and shoulder.

“You’re incredible.” he murmured.

You smiled, leaning back against him, your body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure. “So are you, Mr. Turner. So are you.”

As the sweat cooled on your skin, you felt a sense of contentment settle over you. The heat was still oppressive, but it didn't seem to matter anymore.

You and Alex sat at opposite ends of the bathtub, facing each other with your legs entangled. The water was almost frigid, sending shivers down your spine. Alex noticed and teased, “Did I not get you hot enough, love?” He smiled that charming smile of his, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You couldn’t help but smile back, taking a moment to admire him. His wet hair curled naturally, especially the little pieces by his ears, making him look endearingly boyish. His clean-shaven face accentuated his puffy lips, giving him a soft, almost innocent appearance. His eyes, always so soft and full of warmth, met yours, and you felt a wave of tenderness wash over you. He was, in fact, soft, like you’d said earlier, you thought. And maybe he knew it too, though he didn't always want to admit it.

“Come here.” he said, beckoning with his hand for you to turn around. “Let me warm you up.”

You moved toward him, and he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. He sank a bit lower into the water to make sure you were comfortable. You felt the immediate warmth of his body, and you sighed in contentment. “Muuuuch better.” you murmured as his fingers started to play with your hair.

A comfortable silence enveloped you both. The contrast between the cold water and the warmth of his body created a unique sensation, making you feel both relaxed and completely awake.

After a while, Alex broke the silence, his voice full of affection. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You are my dream.” He placed a long, hard kiss on the top of your head, making you feel deeply loved, with just that tiny gesture.

You nestled closer to him, feeling his heartbeat against your back, and let the tranquility of the moment wash over you. His hands continued to play with your hair, occasionally trailing down your arms in gentle, soothing strokes. You closed your eyes, feeling completely at peace in his embrace.

“I love you.” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water swooshing.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice equally soft, “More than you’ll ever know.” He hugged you tighter, his fingers tracing small circles on your skin.

The bathwater slowly lost its chill, your bodies generating enough heat to make it comfortable. You stayed like that for a while, basking in the simplicity and intimacy of the moment, in the feeling of each other, of him. You loved him.

The last day of class felt unbearably tense. Your eyes were glued to Alex, unable to tear your gaze away. You didn’t even realise that you were staring at him the whole time. The months together had built up an intense connection, driving you both restless, but today was somehow worse than ever.

He noticed, stuttering when he caught your glance, or fidgeting with his jacket he insisted on wearing despite the sweltering summer heat.

When the lecture finally ended, a text buzzed in your pocket: “See me right after.” You waited until the room emptied, then approached him.

“What was that?” he demanded, frustration clear in his tone. You had no answer, only the overwhelming urge to close the distance between you. Grabbing his face, you kissed him desperately, your lips crashing into his so quickly he didn’t even have time to respond.

“Mmm…stop…we shouldn’t.” he muttered, breaking the kiss, but his resolve wavered under your gaze.

“But we could.” you whispered, looking up at him through your eyelashes, giving him those eyes you knew he couldn’t resist.

With a conflicted sigh, he said, “Meet me in the bathroom.” and hurriedly packed his things, shoving everything into his bag and throwing it over his shoulder.

As he left, a smirk played on his lips before the door closed behind him. You waited a few moments before following, your heart racing.

Entering the men’s room, you found him leaning against one of the sinks, with that familiar grin reserved just for you. He approached you slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, then kissing you once, softly. Grabbing your hand, he led you into one of the stalls, the door clicking shut behind you.

His lips found yours again, more urgent this time, unable to get enough. Your mind raced, a mix of excitement and fear. The forbidden nature of your relationship made each touch more endearing, every kiss more intense. Alex’s hands roamed over your body, pulling you closer, his need for you palpable. You melted into him, the thrill of being caught making it all the more exciting for both of you.

Slipping your hands under his jacket and up his back, you eventually pushed it off his shoulders. He caught it in his hand before it could fall to the floor, hanging it along with his bag on the hook behind him. That left him in only the tight white vest tucked in his jeans that he was wearing underneath.

His arms looked incredible, muscles taut and defined, each movement highlighting the strength beneath his skin. The vest clung to his back, damp with sweat, making the fabric semi-transparent. As your hands roamed over his body, you felt the heat of his wet skin, the sensation thrilling and intimate.

His lips were soft on yours, and you wanted to feel them forever. He tasted so good, and his tongue on yours felt electric. Alex had that way of kissing that was just perfect, leaving you breathless and craving more.

What began as an intimate yet not-so-intimate makeout session quickly turned into something that should only be done in private. And especially not here.

His leg wrapped around you, causing you to almost lose your balance if it wasn't for him holding you up, his hardness rubbing against the front of your jeans. With your lips still touching, you palmed at his jean-clothed length eagerly. His hand went to grip your neck, softly, not squeezing, just holding you in place. Your only goal was now to ensure he was satisfied.

The stall felt smaller with each passing second, the air thick with the scent of sweat and anticipation. Alex's breath was hot against your skin as he murmured your name, his voice a low, desperate whisper that sent shivers down your spine. You responded with equal fervor, your hands exploring the expanse of his back, tracing the contours of his muscles.

His fingers slipped beneath the hem of your shirt, teasing the sensitive skin there before moving higher, pushing the fabric up and over your head. You helped him, lifting your arms. The cool air hit your bare skin, but the heat from his body quickly enveloped you again.

Alex's eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his hands moving to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples. The sensation made you gasp, arching into his touch. He smiled against your mouth, a mixture of satisfaction and desire.

“Someone could walk in anytime.” he muttered, his lips moving to your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive flesh there. “You know that?”

You could only moan in response, your hands fumbling with the button of his trousers. You needed to feel him, the barrier of clothing becoming unbearable. He seemed to sense your urgency, helping you with the zipper and pushing them down.

The stall was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the rustle of fabric, and the occasional thud as your bodies moved against the partitions. Alex's hands were everywhere. Sliding down your sides, gripping your hips, caressing your back. He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his, the contact sending a jolt of pleasure through you as your nipples brushed against the material of his top.

Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. The knowledge that this strong, composed man was just as affected by you as you were by him was intoxicating.

Driven by the desire to please him, you dropped to your knees, your hands finding the waistband of his boxers and pulling them down. His cock sprang free from its confines, hard and eager, the tip glistening. Without hesitation, you wrapped your hand around it, feeling the heat and firmness in your grasp.

Alex's hands found their way to your hair, his fingers threading through the strands as he gently guided you closer. His intentions were clear. He wanted your mouth. But he wasn’t going to straight up ask for it. You leaned forward, taking him into past your lips, savouring the taste of his skin and the salty hint of precum. His grip tightened slightly, a soft groan escaping his lips as you began to move, your tongue swirling around the head before taking him deeper.

The sensation of him filling your mouth was heady, each movement sending shivers of pleasure through him. Alex’s hips began to move in rhythm with your mouth, his breaths coming faster and more ragged. You glanced up, seeing the raw desire in his eyes, knowing that you were the one driving him to this point of ecstasy.

His hands continued to guide you, the gentle pressure urging you on as you bobbed your head, your mouth working him skillfully. The taste of him, the feel of him, the sound of his pleasure, it all combined to create an addiction, one that you never wanted to rid yourself of.

Having your lips around his cock, watching as you took him down your throat, your head bobbing quickly, making sweet sounds around his length. Ugh. You worked at him like a dog in heat. How precious. His pretty little thing. His eyes stayed on you. You were everything he wanted. And you knew it.

Your eyes stayed on him as well, you knew better than to look away. Would be blatant disrespect if you did. He loved making you remember the way his features changed as he got closer, making sure you remembered how his eyes filled with pleasure as he would come down your throat, holding the back of your head as you worked on his throbbing cock.

But then, the sound of the bathroom door creaking open shattered the bubble you were in. Someone was coming in. Alex’s eyes widened, and before panic could take hold, he quickly pulled you off his cock.

With a barely silenced growl, he lifted you slightly, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. You could feel the still hard length of him pressing against you, even through the denim of your jeans. The friction was delicious, and you ground against him, seeking more. His hand clamped over your mouth to stifle the sounds of your gasps. He tucked himself back into his trousers, his breaths heavy and erratic, the tension in the stall palpable.

You both remained frozen, hearts pounding in unison as you listened to the intruder's footsteps echoing off the tiles. Each second felt like an eternity, the fear of getting caught suddenly not as exciting as it became too real. You could feel Alex's heart beating wildly through the hand that still gently held your face. He glanced down at you, a mixture of frustration and arousal in his eyes, as he listened intently for any indication that you were alone again.

“You're going to be the death of me,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to catch his breath, “But what a way to go.”

You smiled, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him in for a kiss. His hands moved to help you redress, handing you your top and watching as you slipped it back on. He pulled his jacket over his shoulders, the fabric clinging slightly to his damp skin.

Alex exited the stall first, striding confidently past the other doors towards the sinks. There, he saw a fellow colleague washing his hands, glancing up as he approached. Their eyes met, and Alex gave a curt nod, a silent acknowledgment of the shared awkwardness. The colleague's knowing smirk indicated he was well aware of the situation, but neither said a word.

Alex washed his hands, the sound of the running water masking the rapid beating of his heart. He quickly texted you to meet him at the car, the message clear and concise. He had started parking a couple of streets down to avoid suspicion, allowing you to leave together when your schedules aligned without raising any eyebrows.

You stayed in the stall for a moment longer, adjusting your appearance and calming your racing heart. The adrenaline still surged through you, making your fingers tremble slightly as you straightened your clothes and smoothed your hair. Once you felt composed enough, you took a deep breath and stepped out, making your way to the exit as quietly and quickly as possible.

As you walked down the hallway, you couldn’t help but glance around, hyper-aware of every sound and movement. The thrill of the near miss and the thought of seeing Alex again in just a few moments made your pulse quicken. You pushed open the door to the outside, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the heat of your encounter in the bathroom.

Walking briskly, you made your way to the car. You spotted Alex leaning against it, his jacket now draped over his arm. He was smoking a cigarette, the smoke curling up into the darkening sky, dissipating into the twilight. The soft glow of the cigarette illuminated his face, casting shadows that made his features appear even more chiselled. He looked so focused on nothing in particular, lost in his thoughts, the furrow in his brow suggesting the intensity of whatever was running through his mind. You could have probably guessed what that was.

He took one last drag from the cigarette, the ember glowing brighter for a moment before he tossed it to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot. The movement was almost practised, a small, unconscious ritual he performed without thinking.

As he met your gaze, his face softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He opened the car door for you, helping you in before getting in himself.

As he settled into the driver's seat, he turned to you, his hand reaching over to rest on your thigh. “You okay?” he asked, his voice slightly concerned.

You nodded, placing your hand over his. “Yeah. Just…that was close.”

He chuckled softly, his thumb stroking your skin. “Too close. But God, I can’t stay away from you.”

You leaned over, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both reassuring and needy. The car was filled with the quiet hum of the engine and the rapid thumping of your hearts. As the kiss deepened, you felt the tension from the bathroom start to dissolve.

Finally, being the one to break the kiss, Alex started reversing out of his spot. Well, not really his spot technically, but he kind of claimed it as his, parking there almost every time he drove to work.

You watched him, mesmerised by the sight of him reversing the car. His arm was draped casually across the back of your seat, the movement causing the muscles in his arm to flex subtly. The streetlights streaming through the windows highlighted his sharp jawline from all different angles, casting shadows that made his features even more striking.

“You’re so fucking hot.” you said mindlessly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

“Oh, I know, love.” he replied, smirking as he started driving toward his apartment. He wasn’t full of himself. It wasn’t how that was supposed to sound, you knew that. He’d told you that you helped bring out a less insecure part of him, and you loved that.

“You’re still in trouble though, can’t have that with no consequences.” he joked.

You hit him softly over his thigh, making him jump subconsciously. The sudden movement brought his bothersome erection back to the forefront of his mind, causing him to shift uncomfortably in his seat, trying to find a position that didn’t put so much pressure on it. You noticed and started rubbing his thigh, trying to ease his discomfort, but likely doing just the opposite.

As the car moved through the city streets, the atmosphere between you was thick with unresolved tension. The sensation of your hand on his thigh, combined with the rhythmic motion of the car, heightened his every feeling. Every touch, every brush of your fingers, seemed to amplify the heat burning inside of him.

Alex's breathing grew heavier, and his grip on the steering wheel tightened. You could see the effort it took for him to keep his focus on the road, his need for you evident in the way his eyes occasionally flicked toward you, filled with want and frustration.

The drive felt both endless and too short, the anticipation of what was to come making every second feel like an eternity. You didn’t even know what he meant by ‘consequences’. As you approached his apartment, the tension within the vehicle almost reached a boiling point, what might await you behind closed doors hanging heavily in the air.

In his apartment, Alex hadn't said a word since entering. He slipped off his boots and headed straight to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed. You followed him, and he patted the spot next to him for you to sit. As soon as you sat down, he grabbed you and bent you over his knees, making you gasp at the sudden move.

His hands spread over your ass, grabbing at your flesh a couple of times before undoing your jeans and pushing them down your thighs, leaving you unable to move your legs apart. You looked back at him in anticipation, waiting for his next move. He bent down to kiss you as his hand came down across your cheeks for the first time, your yelp getting lost in his mouth.

His touch alternated between rough and tender, his hands exploring your skin as his lips met yours again and again. The sensation of his hand striking your flesh mixed with the softness of his kisses, the blend of pleasure and sharp pain, was intoxicating.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension in his body evident as he continued to spank you. His hand came down again and again, the sharp sting followed by the soothing caress of his fingers. The sound of each slap echoed in the room, mingling with your muffled gasps and his ragged breathing.

Each strike seemed to bring you closer to a breaking point, the intensity of the moment building with every touch. His other hand held you firmly in place, ensuring you couldn't move away from his lap. The vulnerability and trust between you deepened with every second passing.

Between spanks, he would pause to tease you over your underwear, his fingers brushing lightly over your clothed cunt. Each touch sent shivers through your body, amplifying your need for him. He knew exactly how to keep you on edge, providing just enough stimulation to drive you wild, but never enough to satisfy. The fabric of your underwear felt damp against your skin, a proof to your growing arousal. You were enjoying this.

Alex's teasing fingers moved with agonising slowness, tracing the outline of your lips through the fabric, barely dipping into your folds. Each featherlight touch was a tantalising hint of the pleasure that awaited you. Your hips bucked involuntarily, seeking more contact, more pressure, but he held you firmly in place, denying you the release you craved.

“You feel that, right?” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “That's how I felt the whole drive here. Desperate. Needing more. But I couldn't do anything about it. Now it's your turn.”

His words sent a thrill through you, the knowledge that he was controlling your pleasure as skillfully as he did your body only heightening your arousal. You could feel his breath against your ear, hot and uneven.

Alex's fingers continued their maddeningly slow exploration, brushing over your sensitive clit, making your breath hitch. Each touch was maddening, it felt so good, but it was never enough to push you over the edge. He was drawing out your torment, making you feel every second of your need.

“Tell me…” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Tell me how much you want it.”

“I want it…so bad.” you gasped, your voice trembling with need. “Please, Alex, I need you.”

A satisfied hum rumbled in his chest. “Mhm…Just a little longer. I want to see you desperate. I want to see you beg.” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

His words sent another wave of arousal through you, and you felt your body responding, your hips rocking against his hand. The friction of your underwear against your sensitive skin was exquisite torture.

Eventually, he stopped teasing, his hand moving away from your aching core. You whimpered at the loss, but he shushed you gently, his other hand stroking your back soothingly.

“Patience, love.” he murmured. “You know I always give you what you need, just let me play this time.”

With that, he resumed spanking you, each strike harder than the last, the sharp sting a stark contrast to the gentle teasing. Your yelps were muffled, your body trembling with the mix of pain and pleasure. It was getting almost too much to take, but you trusted him completely, knowing he would take care of you.

Finally, he paused, his hand resting on your reddened skin. He bent down to kiss you again, his lips lingering on yours as he whispered, “Was that too much?” the raw emotion and worry in his voice made you melt in his arms, and you shook your head ‘no’, unable to find the words to respond.

Alex helped you sit up, pulling off your jeans all the way, his hands gentle now as he pulled you close. The intensity of the moment lingered, the air between you charged. He guided your hand to his excruciating erection over the tight material of his jeans. You struggled to undo his belt, so he helped you, slipping it off lazily as you worked on the button and zipper.

You pulled his vest out of his pants and he held it up out of the way as you freed his cock from his boxers, stroking it a couple of times. His eyes rolled back at the feeling. He nudged you down, and you dropped to your knees on the floor in front of him. He brushed your cheek with his hand lovingly, petting your hair and making it sit all pretty again.

Having you in front of him stirred something deep inside Alex. All the emotions still took a toll on him sometimes, and now was one of those moments. Did he go too far? Did he even enjoy it, or was it just something he did for no reason? But that didn’t even matter anymore. He needed you. So bad. He guided you to his cock, letting you take him in your mouth and setting the rhythm himself.

You didn’t mind his control, you wanted to make him feel the best. You tried to take him deeper and faster, but you accidentally nicked him with your teeth, making his grip in your hair tighten.

“That’s it, darling…” he muttered. “That’s it…do it again.”

Hearing that, you decided to scrape your teeth along his cock and see how he liked that. His hand fell from your head, and he leaned back on his arms, gripping the sheets instead.

“Uhhh, fuck- fuck, yeah. Again. I like the pain...” he said, his voice filled with raw need.

You obeyed, your teeth grazing his sensitive flesh as you moved. Each scrape elicited a shudder from him, his hips bucking involuntarily. His grip on the sheets tightened, knuckles turning white. The mixture of pleasure and pain was driving him wild too, and you could see it in the way his body reacted, the way his breath hitched, and his muscles tensed.

“You’re so good at this.” he breathed, his voice low and strained. His free hand tangled in your hair, not guiding you this time, but simply holding on as if grounding himself in the overwhelming sensation.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, the tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat. His eyes rolled back, a guttural moan escaping his lips. The praise, the raw desire in his voice, spurred you on, pushing you to take him even further.

Alex’s hips began to move in rhythm with your mouth, shallow thrusts that drove him deeper into your throat. You could feel him throbbing, the tension coiling in his muscles as he neared his release. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one laced with the sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m so close.” he groaned, his grip in your hair tightening as he held you in place. “Don’t stop…please, don’t stop.”

You had no intention of stopping, not when he was this close, not when you could feel his pleasure building, the climax just within reach. You wanted to be the one to push him over the edge. The only one to cause him so much pleasure that his mind shut down.

He came unexpectedly in between desperate thrusts, hot and pulsing in your mouth. You swallowed around him, taking everything he had to give, feeling his body shudder with the force of his orgasm. His moans filled the room, a melody of satisfaction that echoed in your ears.

As his glow subsided, he slumped back, pulling you up onto the bed beside him. He looked at you with his soft eyes that you still couldn’t believe were real.

“I’m not done with you yet.” he whispered, his voice hoarse from the intensity of the moment. He pulled you into his arms, turning you over so you were on your back under him.

He pushed your top up, exposing your breasts but not bothering to take it off. He just wanted to touch and see and feel them as he wished. Grabbing both your legs together, he bent them up, urging you to hold them in place. His hips began to thrust, his cock brushing over your underwear as he got rock hard again. The friction was exquisite, and you swore you couldn’t take it much longer, but he shushed you gently.

He pushed your panties to the side and rubbed his length over your wet pussy, wedging it between your folds. Each thrust brushed against your clit, eliciting countless soft moans from you. Occasionally, he would slap your clit with his cock, making your whole body twitch with the sensation. He went so far as to wrap the flimsy material of your panties around his hard length and thrusting into them, teasing you to no end. Seeing him and feeling him so close but not actually inside you was infuriating.

Your legs eventually grew tired in that position, and you were almost tired of his teasing as well. You rested them on his tummy, still keeping them up as he wanted. He liked that. He really liked that. He held them in place with one hand, massaging up your legs in time with his movements.

His fingers brushed over your clit, circling it with the same rhythm he had set with his thrusts. Your body arched into his touch, your breath hitching as the pleasure mounted. He leaned down, bending your body almost to a breaking point, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue in your mouth mimicking the movements of his fingers on your pussy.

“You're so beautiful like this,” he murmured against your lips, “I could watch you all day.”

You moaned into his mouth, your hips bucking against his hand. The teasing was driving you wild, the need for release becoming unbearable. You could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, every nerve ending on fire.

“Please, Alex.” you whimpered, your voice barely more than a breath. “I need you, please.”

He smiled, his eyes dark with desire. His fingers continued their teasing dance, bringing you to the brink only to pull back just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. It was sweet torture.

Finally, when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, he pushed his cock into you, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and relief. You cried out, your hands clutching at the sheets as he set a steady rhythm, each thrust sending you higher and higher.

He watched you in awe and satisfaction, his eyes never leaving your face. The connection between you was electric. You were his, and he was yours, in that perfect moment of your bodies connecting, both physically and emotionally.

As he moved inside you, his pace quickened, the urgency building once more. The room was filled with the sounds of him sliding in and out, the wet slap of skin on skin, the gasps and moans of pleasure. It was raw, it was primal, and it was everything you needed.

Your orgasm came crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. Your body convulsed around him, your cries of ecstasy mingling with his as he felt you tightening around him. With a gentle but firm motion, he pulled out, only to flip you around.

“You’re doing so good.” he whispered, his voice filled with genuine encouragement. He positioned you on your knees, and you struggled to hold yourself up on your arms, but you wanted to be able to see him.

You watched him as he wiped the sweat off his face with his arm before giving you a quick slap on your ass, the sting from earlier resurfacing. He continued teasing you, or more so teasing himself, rubbing his cock right at your entrance but not quite pushing in. His hand planted on the small of your back, guiding you back towards him but not pushing in, only the head occasionally slipping past your lips in the wet mess pooling there.

And he loved it. The sound of his continuous moaning, intertwined with your weak whimpers, let you know just how much he loved it. Finally, he pulled you by the hips, pushing in all the way, feeling even deeper in this position. He started so gently, his hand on your back keeping you grounded while the other rested back on his hip. He kept that pace for a while, but the need for release took over.

He quickly pulled his top over his head, the need for skin to skin contact overpowering him, and he slid his jeans lower, pushing his boxers down with them.

He moved with an intensity that matched his desire, each thrust more powerful than the last. His hands roamed your body, one sliding up to grip your shoulder for leverage, the other moving down to tease your clit. The combination of sensations was so overpowering, your body trembling with pleasure and overstimulation. He whispered words of encouragement and praise, his voice hoarse with need.

As his thrusts grew more frantic, the room filled with the sounds of your shared moans. His breathing became ragged, his movements more desperate as he chased his own release. You felt him tense, his grip on you tightening as he finally came again, spilling into you with a shuddering groan. The intensity of his orgasm triggered your own, your body pulsing around him as you cried out.

Spent and breathless, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. The sounds of your heavy breathing seemed so loud in the room. He held you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as you both basked in the afterglow.

He looked down at you, concern flickering in his eyes. “Was I too rough?” he asked softly, the question hanging in the air. You could see the beginnings of doubt starting to cloud his features, and you knew he was already overthinking it. He often did that, and he only recently started to realise that it would be better to just ask than to torture himself with doubts and fears. He didn’t need to do that. Not with you.

You shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile. “I loved it,” you said sincerely, “But you don’t have to be like that all the time if you don’t want to. Just be yourself, whatever that might be.”

He sighed, relief mingling with lingering uncertainty. “I did like it,” he admitted, “but I felt a bit...out of character. I don’t want to hurt you.”

You shook your head again, squeezing his hand. “You didn’t hurt me. You were amazing. It’s interesting to see different sides of yours.” you assured him, reaching up to stroke his cheek.

He nodded, his fingers continuing their gentle caress on your skin. “I just want to make sure I’m giving you what you need.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“And you are.” you replied firmly. “Always.”

He smiled, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulled you closer. The rawness of the moment softened into something tender.

a/n: this one’s supposed to be set a good few months into them being together so he’s comfortable with himself and everything bla bla bla my friend said that first scene is the best thing i wrote so i really like it now🥺 also, i uploaded this whole fic to wattpad as well in case anyone prefers reading there, my user is the same as here. oh and, the title is from ‘Music To Watch Boys To’ by Lana, they’re always from songs so i thought i’d mention it :)

tags: @4chaos @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @ohladymoon @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @menace-to-the-devil @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @feyasgotgroove @aacheinthejaw @hellcatshalalalaa @zayndrider @humbuginmybones

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #smut #goblinontour #mr turner

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souliebird · 1 year ago

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 5]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

words: 4.4k

It has been one week since you saw Matt Murdock on the evening news, and it feels like it has been a complete whirlwind. First, you reintroduced yourself to him and let him know he was a father, then you had a nice little outing, and to tie it all up, a trip to the doctors to confirm what you already knew.

Matthew Murdock is the father of your daughter.

It is nice to have an official statement from a doctor and now you can start the process of changing Minnie's paperwork to include his name. You have to go to the courthouse to file for an updated birth certificate. Matt has very kindly offered to take that task on for you - he goes to the courthouse often for his job and he knows the ins-and-outs of navigating legal paperwork. You just have to go and drop off the right documentation.

You had a brief call last night, after Minnie had been put down, and decided that you would visit his office today to do just that. You are going to kill two birds with one stone - hand over what needs to be filed and give Matt more time with his daughter.

To your great surprise, your timid little Mouse absolutely adores him. She was not happy to have to be at the doctor's office yesterday and was on the verge of tears before he showed up. Her whole mood shifted, and she had spent the brief time you were in the waiting room and exam room telling Matt about different things around them.

You have a feeling, when you sit down and tell her the truth, she is going to be thrilled.

You told her that you are going to visit Matt at work today, and all morning she has been hunched over her sketchbook making pictures for him while you try to get in some hours at work. Try being the key word, as you've been thoroughly distracted by today's news cycle.

You were half listening to a puff piece about something or other when breaking news flashed across the screen. A neighborhood in Connecticut has been leveled by some sort of explosion, killing hundreds. They don't know if it was an accident or some sort of attack - the epicenter of the blast was a school, so it could potentially be either. You pray it was a freak accident, some faulty pipeline or a weird meteor, because the world doesn't need any more horribleness in it.

The idea that it might have been an attack makes you nervous. You've been through two horrible attacks on New York, and you didn't realize another big event so close to home would shake you so hard.

It scares you that you have to raise Minnie in such a harsh world, where monsters of all kinds are very very real and you don't know who you can rely on. The police and government have been shown to be all kinds of corrupt and people who can shoot laser beams fight each other in the skies.

You end up clocking out and going to sit with Minnie to get yourself to stop your doom-listening. She's got a few drawings scattered around the table and you pick up the one closest to you, smiling at her handy work.

You recognize the shapes as her interpretation of people - oblongs with stick arms and noodle legs. Unknowingly, she's made her first new family portrait. There are three blob-people all holding hands: you suspect you're the big orange one with a smile, Minnie is the little pink one in the middle with what you guess are pigtails, and Matt is the black one with red eyes, who is also holding a stick. To confirm, you ask her.

"Is this one Mister Matt?"

Her head shoots up and a big grin spreads across her face, "Yeah! And that's you and that's me and we're gonna go to the zoo!" There is a little flurry of motion and suddenly you are getting a picture show. She holds up the paper she was working on - there's another family drawing, but this time there's green scribbles all around you and a blue square with zig zags all over it. You guess that is some sort of animal.

"You want to go to the zoo with Mister Matt?" You ask, examining her masterpiece.

"Yeah!" She says, pulling over another picture that you know are her versions of flowers, even if they are all different colors. "And the park!"

"And the park? Wow, that's a lot of things to do. Do you want to ask him if he wants to go to the zoo with us when we see him today?" Minnie eagerly nods at the question and that makes you smile. "Okay, we can invite him to the zoo. When are we going to the zoo?"

The question makes her bounce in excitement, "My birthday!"

You laugh at her enthusiasm and give her a little back rub, "Exactly. We're going to go for your birthday. And get a big cake with whatever you want on it." That makes her a giggly mess and you temporarily forget all the bad things in the world.

You hand her back her drawing before kissing the top of her hair, "How about you finish this one up and we get ready to go see Mister Matt? We can only visit for a little bit, because he's working, but I bet he'll love everything you made him."

Greedy little hands take back the paper and instantly Mouse is hunched back over her zoo scene, purple crayon in hand. You get up and go to make sure that you have everything you need to bring to Matt in order. You are extremely lucky that the doctor has the ability to print out things in Braille, so you don't need to make an extra stop to get things translated.

You debate bringing Matt lunch, but ultimately decide against it. You don't want to push too much too fast, and you think it might be a little weird for his coworkers, to see a random person bring him homemade lunch. You know he hasn't told anyone yet about yourself and Minnie - he had shyly admitted it didn't feel real until the test results were given and you completely get it.

You tidy up until you spy Mouse dropping her crayons into her bucket and cleaning up her drawing area. You let her do her thing, then approach, "Let's put your drawings with the other things we need to give Mister Matt. That way they won't get lost or wrinkled."

She nods like you've just said something very wise and gathers up her stack of papers before handing them over. There's five in total; the three she showed you and two more full of colorful lines. You decide you'll listen in on her explanation to Matt on those two, as you're curious as to what goes on in her little mind.

Once everything is safe and ready to go, it's just a matter of getting shoes on. You go with your sensible sneakers while Minnie opts for her frog themed Wellingtons. The plan is for both of you to walk to the office, and after one final wallet-keys-phone check in your purse, you head out hand-in-hand.

It's mid-morning, so foot traffic is decent, but not heavy - nothing that makes Minnie too uncomfortable. Dark clouds are gathering on the horizon, and it makes you wonder if the rain that has been promised in the forecast will be coming sooner than expected and you are glad this outing is the only one you have planned. Taking Minnie around in the rain is never fun. It always seems like everything becomes more bustling in the rain and trying to navigate that with a crying toddler just makes you want to cry as well.

But the promise of her new favorite person and mild weather has her walking like the born and bred New Yorker she is - a determined little pout with no nonsense steps. No one will be trying to sell her things on the sidewalks once she gets bigger. If she had a different personality, you'd want to teach her to say "Hey, I'm walking here" just to hear a toddler say it.

As you spy the building Matt's office is in, you realize you should have sent him a text to say you were on your way. You did let him know vaguely what time you planned to stop by and he had assured you that they had no appointments - it was catch up on paperwork day - but that didn't mean walk-in clients hadn't come by. You're so close to already being there that you think the gesture is pointless, so you just keep walking until you get to the building.

"This is where we are going," you tell Minnie as you approach. You scoop her up to show her the business directory on the outside of the building. There aren't very many plaques to begin with, so it's easy to find the Nelson, Murdock, and Page one. "That is where Mister Matt works with his friends."

She leans out and feels over the embossed sign, running her fingers over the different letters. "'M'! For Minnie!" She says, pointing out the letter with a big smile.

"Exactly. Mister Matt's last name starts with M, too. That word is his last name - Murdock."

That gets her to turn back to the sign, fingers dancing over the letters, brows knitting with curiosity, "How is it spelled?"

You spell out Murdock for her and Minnie repeats each letter after you. You do this a few times until she's able to say it out loud on her own. You don't know how long she'll retain the information, as spelling isn't really on the board yet, but you're happy she's interested. You set her back down and she makes a beeline up the steps, grabbing and pulling at the door with all her three-year-old strength.

The lobby to the building is sparse, with basically only an elevator and staircase, with a door to what you suspect is a supply closet. "We're going up two staircases," you tell your daughter.

"Two!" She confirms before taking off towards the stairs. You have a brief moment of panic that she's going to zip up both sets faster than you can catch her, but to your great amusement, she grabs a hold of the banister with both hands and pretends to use it like a mountaineering rope to climb the stairs. She even adds little fake huffs and puffs. You follow behind her, ready to catch her if she slips. She doesn't, and when you get to the floor Matt's office is on, she turns to beam at you, clearly proud of herself, "We did it!"

"We did it," you parrot, offering out your hand again. She takes it and you lead her to the correct door. The same plaque that was on the exterior of the building also hangs beside their door and Minnie astutely points to it.

"Murdock!"

"That's right, it says Nelson, Murdock, and Page."

"Can I knock?" Mouse asks, raising her fist to do just that.

You hum, then gently explain, "This is business, which means work. For work, we don't have to knock. We can go in if it is open."

As soon as you say that she's opening the door and marching inside and you quickly follow her.

Matt's law partners, Foggy and Karen, are in the reception area with a man you assume is a client of theirs, talking in hushed annoyed sounding whispers. He radiates intimidation, with a huge black eye and what looks to be a makeshift cast made of duct tape around his right wrist. The three of them turn to look at you and you get the sense Minnie had the right idea in asking if she should knock first.

Your little one quickly latches onto your leg, turning timid in the space of a second and you can't really blame her. Part of you wants to turn and run.

Karen recovers first, breaking away from the two exasperated men to step towards you and going into receptionist mode, "Hi. You were here last week to meet with Matt, right?"

"Uh, yes, that's right. Is he, uh, available?" You ask, feeling like you no longer know how to speak English. The energy in the room is not a pleasant one and you very much feel like you've interrupted something important.

"He's on a call currently but I'll let him know you are here," Karen replies in a voice far kinder than what she uses to address the men behind her a beat later. She turns to them and points to the office you know is not Matt's. "In there. Now."

Foggy throws up his hands, like he's frustrated with whatever is going on and disappears into the other room. The man you don't know doesn't follow, eyes on you and your daughter as Karen crosses the room to knock on Matt's door before opening it and slipping into the office. You quickly decide you are not going to make eye contact with him, instead ducking your head and putting a comforting hand on Minnie's head. She's practically hidden herself behind your legs, clinging to your pants so tightly you fear they might rip.

"I like your boots," the man says into the quietness. You expect him to sound like gravel, but his gruff voice is rather soft, and you get the feeling he understands how to talk to children "My daughter used to have boots like those."

Part of you wants to tell the man to not talk to your daughter, but that would be rude and just because he looks like he's been through the ringer doesn't mean he's a bad man. You decide to let her determine how she wants to proceed.

You feel Minnie poke her head out from where she's hidden herself. At first, you don't think she's going to reply, as you know how she is, but she surprises you yet again by mumbling out, "They're froggies."

"Yeah? You like frogs?"

Mouse somehow tightens her grip, "I like animals." She presses her face against your leg, then admits, a little louder, "we're gonna to the zoo for my birthday."

That makes the man smile, and that changes his whole demeanor. Suddenly he looks friendly and kind and not like he's likely to stab you, "That's a good place to go for your birthday. How old are you gonna be?"

Before she can respond, the door to Matt's office swings open and Karen stalks out, followed by Matt, who seems much less agitated than everyone else. The blonde points to the unknown man, a little scowl on her face, "What did I say?"

The man holds up his hands defensively, stepping away from Karen and towards the office he was previously told to go in, "Alright, alright, I'm going. I'm going." That doesn't seem to help soothe her at all, as she grabs the man by the bicep and frog-marches him to join Foggy, closing the door behind them.

"They didn't make you wait long, did they?" Matt asks, bringing your attention back to him. There is a cut on his lip that wasn't there the last time you saw him, and your instinct is to ask if he is okay, but you don't know if you are at that level with him yet.

So instead, you address his question, "No, no, we just got here."

He motions back to his office, a smile spreading across his face, and you almost forget about the cut, "Come on back and we can review everything."

Minnie lets go of your pants only to take your hand again and you lead her into the other room. As you pass Matt, she looks up at him and gives a tiny wave.

"Hi, Mister Matt."

Matt's shoulders visibly relax at her greeting, and you can't help but start to smile, "Hi, sweetheart. How are you doing today?"

"Good! I maded you pictures," she says proudly. That causes him to pause as he starts to follow you into his office. You can tell he is surprised by the news - his voice gets a little choked up when he responds.

"You made me some pictures?"

"They are very good pictures," you advise, squeezing Minnie's hand slightly before letting go, "Do you want to tell Mister Matt what you drew for him?" She nods eagerly, so you point to one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Go sit like a big girl and you can tell him."

She makes a dash for the chair, and you take the time to address Matt, "I'm sorry, I should have called ahead."

He shakes his head, and as he walks past you to go behind the desk, he reaches out and brushes his hand along your arm. A little shiver runs up your spine at the touch and you tell yourself the action was so he could orient himself. "Not a problem, I knew you were coming. How is everything?"

"Everything is good," you reply, a little shyer than you intend to. "I, uh, have everything for you. Is there anything else I need to fill out?"

Matt shakes his head, "Just a signature and date. You've done all the work for me already. I don't think I've ever had to file where I don't need to actually do anything but sign the document. It's a refreshing change."

"Do you know how long it will take to process?" You ask as you move to join Minnie in sitting. "The website gave multiple timelines and I just want to be realistic."

Matt takes his seat with a cocky grin, "Not long at all, I know a few judges I can ask to push it through."

You flush at the idea of him asking a favor to a judge on your account, "That's not necessary, Matt, I don't mind waiting."

He shakes his head, getting that soft look again, "I don't want to wait. I want it to be official in the eyes of the government."

His words make you feel even warmer, and you distract yourself by pulling the file with all the paperwork out of your purse and pass it over to him. "Minnie's additions are at the bottom of the stack. The last five pages"

His fingers twitch slightly, and you wonder if he wants to flip right to those. You get your answer quickly.

"Minnie, is it okay if I go over the paperwork with your mom before you tell me about your pictures?"

"It's okay!" She replies, her voice much more cheerful now that you are alone with Matt. "Do you needs help?"

Her sweetness makes Matt smile more and he shakes his head, "Not right now, sweetheart. I need to read, and I can do that with my fingers, but after that you can help with some other things."

"Okay," she says happily, kicking her feet a little bit.

You catch her attention and motion to your purse, "Do you want a toy while you wait?"

She shakes her head and beams up at you, "No thank you, I'm a big girl!"

Both you and Matt chuckle at her declaration and he moves to open the file.

"There's multiple copies of everything," you tell him as you move onto business, "One printed text and one in Braille for the courts and the same for you. I have the same at home, as well. They are bundled in packets. The court papers are on top, Braille first."

He thanks you then begins to read the forms. Mouse sits up straighter in her chair to try and see what he is doing. She can just peek over the edge, and she watches in fascination as his fingers move over the pages. You wait quietly, not wanting to distract in any way.

"Everything appears to be in order. We will just need a signature," Matt says after a minute.

"Should I do that now?" You ask. The response is him offering you a pen, so you lean in to sign the various forms. As you set each document aside, Matt adds his own signature. It is silly how giddy you feel just having the forms finally completed. You don't know how long you've had just blank copies, waiting to be filed.

"And done," Matt says with a final flick of his pen on the last page. "I'm going to the courthouse on Tuesday, so I'll get it processed then. I'll push to get an updated certificate as quickly as possible."

You have to bite your lip to keep from smiling like a crazy person. This isn't some dream or far off fantasy. Matt isn't just saying he wants to be Minnie's father. He is following through, with urgency. This is something he wants and it's almost surreal for you - you are so used to promises being broken and no one being on the same page as you in your desires. Even if this is all for Minnie and not for you, it is still on the edge of overwhelming for you.

You never thought you'd be so happy over paperwork.

"Thank you, Matt," you whisper, leaning back into your seat to sit properly.

Immediately, Minnie parrots you, thanking Matt even though she has no idea what is going on.

"No, thank you. Thank you both," he says, and you wonder if he is also holding back from smiling. He gathers the papers and sets them aside before running his fingers over the folder you gave him and addressing his daughter. "Okay, sweetheart. Do you want to come tell me what you drew?"

You expect Minnie to stand on the chair and even prepare yourself to balance her, but that does not happen. She hops down and scurries around the desk to be at Matt's side and a moment later, he is pushing his chair back and she is climbing up into his lap. Embarrassment rushes through you - she's only ever behaved like this with you. She actually used to fuss and cry if anyone else tried to hold her. You haven't seen her sit in anyone else's lap since she had a say in who gets to hold her.

"Minnie!" You scold but Matt quickly shakes his head as he helps her up.

"It's okay, I don't mind," he tells you even though he looks completely shocked. If he wasn't her father, you wouldn't allow this, especially with someone so new to her, but he is her father, even if she doesn't know, so you don't tell her to get down.

Instead, you give a stern frown, "Minnie, you still need to ask before climbing on anyone, okay? Can you apologize?"

Your little girl nods, then looks up at him, "I'm sorry, Mister Matt."

"It's okay, sweetheart. Like I said, I don't mind, but your Mommy is right, and you should ask so I know you are there. Next time, you'll know. Now, your Mommy said there were five pictures. Which do you want to start with?" He asks, scooting his chair back to the desk while wrapping one arm around Minnie's waist to keep her secure.

Once she's able to, she leans in and picks up the first drawing in the stack. It is the family portrait, and you quickly get your phone out so you can record this interaction as Minnie lays out the picture. She then takes Matt's free hand and guides it to the paper before letting go to point at the circle that represents him.

"This is you," she tells him. He quickly finds where she is pointing and begins to trace the figure.

"That's me?" And there is definitely more than a little bit of emotion in his voice.

"Uh-huh, and that is me and Mommy and we're gonna go to see the duckies. Mommy said we can go again. But we're gonna get ice cream too. And a balloon," she says, moving her little finger all over the page.

You watch Matt's finger follow hers - first over the doodle of himself, then Minnie's, and finally yours. Then, he traces back to the center figure. "We're holding hands?" He asks tentatively.

"Yup!" She answers, popping the p. "Mommy says we gotta hold hands if we go outside."

Matt licks his lips a little and you see his muscles flex under his jacket as he holds Minnie a little more firmly to his chest, like he doesn't want to let go of her. "That's a good rule."

"Mommy makes good rules," your little one replies wisely. That makes your ego sing a little. Mouse has always been good at doing what she's told, and you are proud that she understands your rules keep her safe.

Before she moves onto the next picture, you gently prompt her. "Sweetie, was there something you wanted to ask Mister Matt?"

Matt's head jerks up at that, looking right to you with brows slightly knit. Minnie bounces in his lap just a little, squirming so she can turn to look up at him, "I'm gonna go to the zoo! For my birthday! Do you wanna go?"

His lips part in surprise at the question and before you know it, he has both his arms wrapped around Mouse, hugging her to him. She instantly responds, looping her little arms around his neck and squeezing back. He rests his cheek against her head, and you see him slightly rock her from side to side. "I would love to go with you to the zoo, sweetheart."

Minnie giggles into his neck and you one hundred percent know that the transition to suddenly having two parents is not going to be hard for her at all. It might be confusing because Matt won't be living with you, but you have never seen her so comfortable with someone who isn't you. You know it's not just because he gave her a toy. They just click together so well.

You switch from video to your camera so you can sneak as many pictures as you can of Matt and Minnie hugging. They've completely forgotten about you and that is a-okay.

In this moment, nothing else matters to you - not the strange man in the other office or the devastation a few states over or all the other trivial things that nag you and make your stomach turn.

Your world is right in front of you and for the first time in a very, very long time, you really, truly believe everything is going to be just fine.

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment

#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then I met you #theres plot hints

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dtrghost · 2 years ago

Text

closeness and proximity part.2

pairing: ghost x f!reader

synopsis: callsign is sunshine, because you're anything but. team 141 thought ghost was bad? at least they could crack a smile out of the guy from time to time, you? you were stone faced, all day, every day. until one day you're not, not with a certain someone anyway.

warnings: inaccurate military language and sequences, violence, angst, descriptions of interrogation and torture, INTENSE gore (imo), cursing, allusions to mental illness (reader has sociopathic tendencies) you get the gist. If you have a weak stomach or faint heart, please do not read this, like please.

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT:

word count: 3.5k

The heat choked her body as she threw the covers off, sweat causing her clothes to cling to her body in a way she hated. Her nightmares haunted her dreams at night, reminders of her wrongdoings, failures, moments in life where she had no one. She was reminded of every feeling she felt up until now, and it confused and hurt her at the same time. She stood up, unable to lay in bed any longer and threw on some black cargo pants with a black long sleeve top.

She walked out of her room, making her way to the range where dummies stood to practice on. Personally she thought they were partially useless, they were good to practice hitting targets standing still, but in the field it was quite the opposite. They were running, jumping, moving in every possible direction. They were hitting back, so she always preferred to train with a partner, however, she didn't have one at the given moment, so she had to make do.

She spent hours practicing, taking shots with the blanks provided, ensuring each one landed in the center of their fake forehead, and if they didn't she'd do everything again, and again until her training sequence had been completed perfectly. She had a watcher, and she knew that, ignoring their presence until she finished. Ghost watched as her final shot rang out, hitting the dummy in the same spot she had hit so many times before, announcing the finality of her session.

"You're up early Sunshine." His gruff voice bounced off the stone structure behind the dummies, coming back to her ears in a way she quite liked. The sensation of hearing his voice twice over even though he spoke once was soothing to her in a way, even though he sounded like he swallowed nails and it fucked up his vocal chords for life.

"How old are you?" She questioned suddenly, laying her gun down on the table and unloading the blanks, tossing them off to the side. His eyebrows jumped in surprise at the question, walking over to her and peeking over her shoulder as she cleaned the weapon off, black spots of gunpowder appearing on the cloth she used.

"I assume you already know since you dug through my file." His voice held a bit of contempt and hostility, but her reaction remained even and calm, chuckling, though to her it felt hollow as it always did. The sound followed that feeling, and Ghost noticed it.

"I forget unimportant things." He rolled his eyes and sighed, his hands gripping the top of his vest as he watched her work.

"I'm 28 as of last month." She hummed, glancing over to him. The conversation wasn't inherently interesting, she found no pleasure in the topic, but did find a hint of entertainment in the conversation being with him specifically. She didn't understand why, but she'd indulge for a while, at least while she was still on the team.

"What's on the agenda today?" She moved along, leaning on the table as his wide, tall frame towered over hers. She couldn't help looking over him again, even in his gear he was so... hot. Her mind wandered, the word putting her mind on a track as she yet again shamelessly checked him out.

"Hey." He snapped his finger in front of her eyes, snapping her out of it. "Have some damned respect yeah? I'm you're superior officer." He would be lying to say he hated it, he loved it actually, that the girl he was once so intimidated by still had some human qualities, like attraction and want. But she could tell he misconstrued her intentions, she didn't understand the want aspect of it, she just saw something she liked and looked at it, not because she wanted to have it, but because it was nice to admire.

"I'm not looking to sleep with you. You have a nice frame. That's all." His cheeks involuntarily burned, starting from his covered next and moving up. How could she say that so calmly? He watched her shrug and move on, looking back at her weapons as he sighed.

"Today's an off day. We don't get many so get your arse out the range." He muttered, turning around and walking out with heavy steps and a sway to his walk that she found addicting to watch.

She...

not liked... enjoyed? No, was fond of, close enough.

She was fond of the way he moved, she found it satisfying, how even he was, symmetrical in shape and incredibly fit. She thought long and hard at night about random things, and the male physique was one of the topics that crossed her mind. How much they had going on, as least the ones she'd met in her times of service, all muscular and built to take any blow sent their way. She wished there were more women working in her career, get the best of both worlds, but she found herself understanding why there wasn't.

"Sunshine! Get your arse out of there! That's an order!" Price yelled from the entrance, noticing she hadn't moved from her spot since Simon left. She followed his instructions, deciding to go back to her room and relax in there until she was needed. That's how these types of things normally went.

Her skill and forte for doing what she's technically not supposed to was something that kept headquarters bouncing her around. She'd be on team 141 for maybe a year before being moved, so she chose to not make connections with anyone. Most were happy to let her go for two reasons. One, how persistent she was about not sleeping with them, and two, the nasty scars left behind for even asking the question.

Most of the times she was the one requesting a team change, and they obliged because they wanted to keep her on their good sides for what it was worth. She knew she was being used, but isn't this what she signed up for? What they all signed up for?

She groaned at the knock on her door, loudly expressing her distaste for whoever was behind her, not caring who it was.

"It's time to eat breakfast. You have 2 minutes to sit your arse with us or I'll drag you out myself." Ghost called through the wood, his voice getting raspier as his volume raised. She snickered at the empty threat, getting up and opening the door to see him standing there, irritated that he had to come get her as if she were incapable of coming herself.

"You seem to really like my ass with how much you order it around." His mouth went dry as she pushed past him with a thud, walking over to the table, not looking back at him.

"Fucking hell." He murmured, annoyed by the fact that he was heating up again, mentally cursing himself for being flustered by something so immature. But he couldn't help glancing at it as she walked, how well shaped it was, the weight it had, how it-

Bloody fuckin' perv.

His eyes shut for a moment in shame at the fact he just checked her ass out before making his way back to the table and sitting down next to Soap who left him a seat. The table was tense and quiet, the team glancing around at each other as she ate as if they weren't there.

"So Sunshine. You heading to the pub with us later?" Mctavish questioned, shoving some of his MRE into his mouth.

"No." Everyone stopped eating at her blatant denial. She didn't care for team bonding, she hated it. She found it pointless when they had a higher chance of dying than being a friend to her.

"You should go. It'll be good to get out." Price pushed, looking at her expectingly.

"What do I get out of it?" If she was going to go, it better be for a damn good reason. They looked at each other, sighing as Price instigated the negotiation process. They discussed terms, agreements, benefits, etc, all for one night with her at the pub. This is what she liked about men, how easy they were to persuade, especially as a woman that peaked their interest. It was almost disheartening. She noticed how Simon didn't participate and ate his food in silence.

He didn't want to feed her ego, he didn't care whether she went or not, and he wouldn't waste his time with unnecessary terms for a single night. If she didn't want to go, she shouldn't have to. That's what he thought, and she knew that, she liked that. She liked that he wasn't easy, that he was a challenge to her, to crack, to break. She wanted him to hate her, to loathe her, to feel small compared to her, she wanted the satisfaction of being powerful no matter who she was with.

The terms were settled, they'd buy whatever she ordered and she was required to stay for two hours until she could leave and one of them had to buy her food by then for dinner. The day went by quickly, her having avoided interaction with them all together until she was forced to see them again. For the pub she wore a black crop top, a white button up over top, and some black trousers with some white shoes.

She slipped on a mask that covered half her face, straightened her curly hair, not wanting anyone but herself to see that part of her. Her natural hair was the only genuine part of her that she liked, it was true to who she was, where she came from, and she didn't intend to let people she didn't know or trust see it. She left it up in a ponytail and walked out to see Soap exiting his room.

"Ready lass?" He questioned with a genuine smile, one she couldn't return because she didn't want to go. So she replied with another curt nod, leaving him in silence and following him to the car.

"Sunshine. With me." Ghost commanded, getting into the driver's seat of the car he was going to drive. She found the way her callsign sounded from him to be odd because of the duality of it. A beefy, gruff, cold man calling her sunshine. She sat in the passenger's seat, the car lurching from the force of his foot hitting the gas, moving forward to follow Soap in front of him.

She turned on the radio, only for Simon to turn it off.

"I need to concentrate." He voiced, and when she tried again, he did the same thing, shutting it off.

"I don't care. If you can't think with noise than maybe you should quit before i end up having to drag your rotting corpse out of the field." She snapped, clearly pissed off about not being able to turn on the radio. He looked at her with a blank expression, realizing she was genuinely upset, with all the things she could be putting her emotion towards, she put it towards the fact she couldn't listen to music.

"Careful. Or I'll write you up for insubordination and have you dishonorable discharged." He threatened making her snort and look out the window.

"Do me the favor then will you." His eyes narrowed at her, his grip on the stick shift tightening in irritation. Part of him loathed her, how impulsive and arrogant she was, but then he was reminded that she didn't know any better, which made him angry too. Everything about her and associated with her made him angry, so he huffed and turned on the damn radio.

"This once. That's it." She snickered to herself, the anger slowly dissipating as they drove on in silence, filled by throwbacks from the early 2000s that she liked. They reached the pub and he parked next to Soap, walking inside. The smell of alcohol and sweat intensified the closer they got to the bar, maneuvering through people who were drunk and dancing to the music.

"What is it you're having then?" McTavish asked her.

"I don't drink. I'll take a coke, can preferred, thanks. His tab." He rolled his eyes, nodding to the bartender who later slid her a can of the drink of her choice, everyone watching her crack it open and take a sip, turning away to pull her mask down.

"So you really don't drink?" Gaz questioned her.

"Pretty sure I said that already. Fuck it's hot." She shrugged off her button up, leaving it draped over her chair. Eyes widened at her. She was ripped, her arms were toned, faded scars here and there with some tattoos not only there, but on her waist and sternum, though they weren't as visible due to her shirt.

That's when Ghost noticed it from his side.

"The fuck is that?" He asked, peering to get a better look. Y/N turned her head to him, eyes following his to her brand.

"Got it when I was kidnapped." She explained simply, shrugging off his shocked look until he grabbed her arm for a closer look. He recognized that brand anywhere, soldiers' bodies that came back from Verdansk after failing their initiation program to work under General Voroskoy, an ex-KGB wet agent who commanded the Russian forces in the region.

This changed, everything. This means she survived, she managed to endure the agony they put soldiers into and come out alive. Ghost had seen the autopsy reports, burns, cuts, electric jolts, mutilated bodies from head to toe, some had to be identified using dental records, if they had any teeth left.

"Had they came a week later they would've put me through my second round of ECT. Didn't get drugged up for it either. Then you'd be fighting me." She informed them, Gaz, Price, and Soap having came to look as well.

"What'd they do to you?" She didn't respond, her head turned to face the other direction, her eyes glazed over and distant. She couldn't think, she couldn't answer. Ghost knew that look, and he never liked it. He pushed past his team and stood in front of her, her eyes unwavering on the center of his stomach as he towered over her once more.

"Snap out of it sunshine, that's an order." She couldn't. She wanted to, she wanted to move her eyes, her body, her mind to any other subject, but she couldn't. It was as if she was frozen in time, in this moment, she wasn't even blinking, feeling her eyes beginning to burn.

Was she here? Was she real? It didn't feel like it.

It felt like the world stopped moving, and everything went quiet. Her heart hurt for reasons she didn't understand before various images of what happened rushed through her, and she felt trapped, trapped in her mind for good. Nobody could pull her out, she couldn't see anyone. Not in front of her, not in her peripheral. She was alone. Alone in a concrete box with a singular flickering lamp as her blood coated the floor, she had never left, she had made it all up, all the missions she went on, all the people she met, it was all in her head.

How foolish could she have been. Rescued? On foreign soil? It was a fairytale, and now she was back. She was going to betray her country by force, because she didn't know who she was, that part of her was ripped away. She couldn't stop it, she wasn't in control, she was weak for letting this happen to her, to truly believe for a moment that she was out at a pub with people that wanted to help her.

Nobody, was going to help her. This is it, this is where her life ends.

Ghost's fingers came up to her face, pressing her lids shut.

The blindfold was on.

"1." ...what?

"2." The room began to fade. Were they putting her under again?

"3." Noises flooded her ears, her straining to understand what was being said.

"4." That was... Ghost's voice, the gruffness of it was all too familiar. Years of inhaling dirt and gunpowder left his voice rugged and raspy, but it was recognizable.

"5." It was as if a wire was cut, and she was suddenly overwhelmed by the stimulation of the pub around her. The cold can in her hands, the sounds of music and voices pounding in her ears.

This was a technique he used on soldiers who dissociated and derealized, whose minds traveled back to the root of their ptsd. His hand dropped slowly, her eyes snapping open in alert. Her body jerked forward and he caught her shoulders. He gave them a reassuring squeeze as he watched her panic.

"Calm down love. You were gone for a moment, give yourself some time to adjust." The rest of the team watched in concern and curiosity as she scanned the area, her breath quick and uneven. Her heart pounded in her chest, unable to comprehend what was occurring as she place her can down on the counter and quickly walked outside, not caring who she shoved past to get there.

Ghost was quick to follow her, calling out her callsign over and over when she didn't respond. She felt his big hand grip her wrist, pulling her into a nearby alley. Anger and fear overtaking her as she quickly swiveled on her left foot. Before he could understand what was happening she jumped up, her legs wrapped around his neck before pulling him down to the floor with all her weight.

He grunted in surprise as his back hit the concrete. She was quick to get up, the need to survive pumping through her veins until arms wrapped around her waist, one hand covering her mouth.

"Get a hold of yourself soldier-" Her head came thrusting back, knocking whoever held her in the nose causing them the groan and drop her. Two strong arms pinned her to the wall, another two keeping her legs still as she struggled.

"Hey! Y/N!" Her eyes blew open, meeting the piercing blue of Price's as they bored into hers. The name call caused her to mentally stutter, since nobody called her that, not in the last 6 years.

"You need to calm down. You're a member of Task Force 141, you escaped Russian capture 6 years ago and have been working for the U.N. since." Her mind stopped racing, looking around at the damage she did as Ghost helped Soap with his nose, blood dripping from his hand to the floor as he cradled it. Gaz held her legs down, but made sure that she couldn't hit him in the face with her knee.

"Don't look at them. Look at me." Ghost looked at her, and she didn't like the look in his eyes. She expected some sort of hatred, mistrust, a need to kill her, but all she saw was pity. The word was like a knife to her gut. He felt bad for her, and she hated that. She wasn't weak, she didn't need his sympathy.

"Look at me Sunshine. That's an order." It dawned on her, her eyes snapping to his in frantic panic.

"They know my name." Why would he do that to her? Why would he reveal something she kept so close to her chest?

"I'm Johnny. Johnny McTavish." Soap called out, waving a hand to her as he held a tissue to his nose.

"I'm Kyle Garrick." The man kneeling in front of her said with a small smile. They watched her eyes flicker with confusion, not understanding why. Why were they dumb enough to give that away, to not realize the danger they were putting themselves into. Yes she already knew their names and almost everything about them, but to give that away willing was a principle she couldn't comprehend.

"Simon. Simon Riley." Ghost finished.

"Why. Do you not realize how important that is? Why're you telling me this?" Her gaze was intense, flickering between each of them analytically until she found an answer to her question.

"Because we're a team. We trust each other with our lives." Price answered for them. She searched his gaze, finding no hint of uncertainty or falsehood. They let her go and stood in front of her, not tense, not ready to grab her if she pounced. She took a step forward, and they didn't step back, remaining still and assured.

"Y/N." Her name sounded foreign coming from him, her look directing towards him. Simon's gaze wasn't soft, it wasn't gentle, but it wasn't demeaning either, it wasn't angry or mistrusting. She felt strange, but in a good way, the same way she felt when he called her love. How her chest tightened and her eyes watered, she hated it, but she loved it at the same time.

"Only way we can help you is if you tell us what happened. We've all experienced something, even if it doesn't quite amount up to you, it's enough. So quit being a pain in our arses and bloody say something." He quipped, his closer making the team chuckle, but she didn't understand why it was funny.

"I didn't think I was being a pain." They looked at her oddly, until it dawned on them as she stared back, utterly confused as to why SHE was the pain and not someone else who was less capable than her.

"We've got some fuckin' work to do."

This is part 2! I don't know how many parts this is gonna be, probably not many, but there it is! Thank you so much for reading! Lmk if you have any requests and I promise a relationship between ghost and the reader will occur but I don't wanna rush it so yeah!!

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antariies · 10 months ago

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how to build a chair........... director's cut ∠( ᐛ 」∠)__ this is about to be a very long very self-indulgent post where i just talk about my own writing. i also doodled on all the pages i think it makes the whole thing more fun to go thru. welcome to my ted talk

SIKE before i begin. credit where credit is due, this post was the start of it all. it changed my brain chemistry my jaw was dropped i was in awe i was obsessed and before i even finished it i knew that i would eventually have to make something similar for the commander or else i would be cursed to think about it for the rest of my life. and i Was cursed for like two years every day i would just be like........ is today the day i sit down and draft the commander chair fic of my dreams....... maybe tomorrow......

and then i got accepted as a writer for the gw2 zine ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ the chair idea was actually my backup option in case my first idea didn't pan out, and thank god it didn't, bc this one worked so much better. (still working on my initial idea, just turning it into a full fic! it was wayyy too long to be a zine submission.)

this is the chair i used. i downloaded the assembly instructions and tried out a bunch of different free pdf editors until i found one i liked, which ended up being sedja. if anyone's interested in doing something like this, i recommend printing out the pdf and writing directly on it! it was a lot easier for me to just figure out everything on paper first and then digitalize it after :P here's a picture of my physical copy

okay actually getting into it for real this time !!!!!

1. yeah i could've just erased the ikea logo and left a blank space but then i realized i could turn it into an in-universe joke. and then i ran with it.

2. i ripped this straight from the product description on the website. thanks ikea

3. i'm not sure if anyone went and looked it up, but it's a real item code!

hehe :3c

4. if your commander willingly goes to therapy i'm happy for them but TO ME? you'd have to drag the commander kicking and screaming. it's not that they don't know that something is wrong with them, they know, and they know YOU know. you're just never supposed to talk about it. they don't look at their own psych eval results bc that's none of their business.

5. i normally avoid specifying the commander's race when i write them bc i enjoy the challenge, but for the zine i was assigned to write about a norn commander! as a human main i was uhhhh very ill-equipped. but that just meant i had to study up on my norn lore (•̀ᴗ•́)و i spent hours on the wiki, then went around interviewing norn mains for their opinions, which was great fun :D it all helped me narrow the focus of my piece: joining the war on commander objectification on the side of commander objectification (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ and no one self-aggrandizes quite like the norn commander!

and to balance that i knew my narrator had to be patronizing as shitttt. they've clearly been following the commander since the beginning and seem to know a lot of intimate details about their life, despite not thinking very highly of them. wonder who that could be :3c

6. i can't stop making references. so the original part number is actually #122620 in the manual but i've changed it here (and on the previous page!) to #082812, as in 08/28/12, the date gw2 was released! no real reason for it, @dalennaugw suggested it for funsies and i liked it. if you're my pal and i show you a wip and you have a cool idea for it, chances are i Will put that shit in. hi dale if you're reading this

7. another thing about me. i loveeee repetition. here the word "over" is repeated four times to match the picture. honestly a lot of the creative process for this piece was just staring at the pages and figuring out how to tie the pictures to the commander in ways that weren't extremely corny or trite. idk why i enjoy writing like this when i could be frolicking in the beautiful prosaic meadows of a word doc instead but. it's like i see a tiny little restrictive box and i'm like OH BOY can't wait to think inside of that thing!!! i like when the format matters just as much as the content and in some cases informs the content. am i making any sense here. well all you need to know is that i'm a virgo and my favorite book is house of leaves

7. aw fuck just realized i wrote 7 twice. whatever i'm not changing it this is 7 part two now. the theme of my piece is glory, what it means to the norn commander, and how far they're willing to go for it.

8. does norn culture place emphasis on seeking individual glory Yes are norn also very community-oriented Also Yes. i think it's common to see norn kids napping together in a big pile, usually after they've worn themselves out playing games outside. it makes sense practically (apes together warm) and socially (pack bonding good) but that's just my hc. growing up i used to share a bed with my cousins all the time so it's normal to me.

a young, naive not-yet-commander, with no real combat experience, has no point of reference to compare a "blaze of glory" to. but the way everyone talks about it, it must be a good thing. a wonderful thing. a reward fit for a life well-fought and a legend hard-earned. so they imagine it must feel like falling asleep surrounded by the people they love, who love them in turn.

9. .........i was playing a lot of ace attorney when i wrote this page. i wish i was joking 👍🏼

10. ohhh shit the truth come OUT this whole chair thing was all a ploy just so i could write about the departing. again.

will i ever stop thinking about her. reply hazy, try again later.

11. out of all the pages, this one has the most emphasis on text placement, like comparing the enlarged picture of the screw to a sword, the numbers counting the screws, and "up up up" being arranged to mimic a wisp of smoke.

i also wanted to lean into the viking/norse mythology influences with my word choice.

12. more nods to norn culture. i didn't know they referred to the six human gods as "spirits of action" until i was doing the research for this piece :O

and the domain of the lost is called a hall of ghosts....... cause valhalla.....

13.

i'm sorry this so funnyyy. SAYS the guy who literally clawed their way back to life for a rematch.

me when i'm in a sore loser competition and my opponent is the COMMANDER!!!

14. arms as in "limbs" and also arms as in "armaments" :•]

15. haha get it because the picture makes it look like there are two mirrored speech bubbles while the text paints two opposing interpretations of the norn commander. one that's selfless and humble versus one that's selfish and vainglorious.

16. and the best part is IT DOESN'T MATTER which one is true bc at the end of the day no matter what their motivation, balthazar is dead by their hand. ofc i'm of the opinion that the most compelling interpretation of the commander is both, simultaneously. contradictions are good for the soul.

17. i could've name-dropped kas, the only person present that would do something like that, but i felt it was better to leave it ambiguous.

18. low-hanging fruit. the metaphor was so obvious here but i had to do it. for the culture

19. the alternate title for this piece was "THIS COULD BE GLORY". "how to build a chair" was only supposed to be a placeholder title til i figured out a better one, but the innocuousness of it grew on me. also i came up with the other one too late and had already advertised under the chair title lol

20. my first instinct was to end it with something more reassuring, like "what you have built so far is enough" but that would've been an ooc switch-up for a narrator who has been nothing but snide and detached this whole time. gotta stick to my guns

21.

obligatory chair joke as the last line. for realsies though it’s meant to be an earnest appeal to the commander to take a break, to have a seat, but it’s also a challenge. are they willing to lean on their friends? are the bonds they’ve forged strong enough to hold their weight? are they willing to put their faith in someone else’s hands? are they brave enough to try? well. only one way to find out.

also guess what that wasn’t even the real last page of the manual. it's THIS

but no way i was letting this be the image we ended on. IT LOOKS LIKE A DICK AND BALLS!!!

and on that note, THANK YOU if you made it this far!! a very special shout-out to @hawkepockets, my lovely boyfriend and beta reader, without whom this piece would not be nearly as polished. i would bring him pages to look over and he would say Scrap half of those lines you can do better than that. kill your darlings. i would complain and argue for a few minutes then we would revise. rinse and repeat until we had honed this thing to perfection. i can't stress enough the importance of having a second pair of eyes on your work throughout your creative process, even better if it's someone who challenges you. i don't even pay him 🫶🏼

and if there was anything i didn't cover that you still have questions about, please feel free to shoot me an ask! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ thanks for reading! see u later dudes ;P

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #my writing #for once i have nothing to say in the tags bc i already talked so much in the body of the post.#ummmmmmmm meows cutely !

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amyispxnk · 5 months ago

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My Kind of Woman

Chapter 5: Collide

Series Masterlist || Previous Chapter

Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.

Chapter summary - Joel makes up for the time he stood you up.

A/N: just wanted to say a big thank you for the support on this series so far! love u all<3

also im so excited for this chapter because they’re finally starting to (officially) like eachother guysss ahh

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, a few dirty thoughts (because what is this fic without them), slight language

DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.

Also this chapter has a song..!

The next week, you have another lighter schedule - two patrols and three nights at the Tipsy Bison. Unfortunately though, your first patrol is on Monday morning at the ass-crack of dawn, and Joel can definitely tell that you’re not a morning person from it.

“So today we’re heading out to-” he begins, and you cut him off.

“I know, Joel.” You sigh heavily, getting annoyed just from that in your grumpy state. He doesn’t take it personally though, quickly deducing what’s wrong.

“Not a morning person, I take it?” He chuckles, and you just nod, taking another large swig of your coffee before screwing the lid back on and going over to May, your mare, to prep her for the patrol.

He does the same, keeping conversation light and just asking about your supplies and whatnot, still receiving a little attitude from you despite his efforts, before the two of you exit Jackson’s gates once more.

After almost an hour of riding, the sun is close to being fully risen and you find yourself watching it with awe. You never really took the time to watch the sun rise, but it really was beautiful, especially out here with no distractions or pollution to ruin the view of it.

“It’s so pretty.” You find yourself commenting, and Joel looks over at you, seeing the view which you’re talking about.

“I guess. I can think of something prettier, though.” He murmurs, staring directly at you. You turn to face him and realise what he’s done, smiling shyly before averting your gaze once more.

“So, where’s that music store you were talking about last time?” You ask.

“It ain’t this way, so I don’t think we could go today. We could try go on Thursday’s patrol, though. ‘S just a little ways past that town we cleared.” Joel replies, to which you nod.

“Guess we’ll go then.”

That morning’s patrol is fairly quick and quiet, a few straggling runners dotted around the outlook you two end up at, and nothing more.

You get back to Jackson just before lunchtime and return your horses and weapons. You’re tending to May, giving her a treat and combing her mane, when Joel enters the stables.

“Hey.” He says, voice gruff and nervous, almost.

“Hey,” you smile, turning to face him, “what’s up?”

“Nothin’, just.. It’s lunchtime.”

You nod slowly, a little confused. He picks up on this and sighs.

“Wanted to ask if you.. if you wanted to come over for lunch. Ellie’ll be there too… Thought it might be nice.” He mumbles, not able to meet your eye as he braces himself for rejection.

“That sounds great! I’d have to get changed and stuff, so I could be over in maybe.. Half an hour?” You say, smile wider now, and he finally looks back up at you, trying to hide his surprise.

“Yeah- yeah. That sounds good. See you then.” He says, giving you a wry smile before leaving you in the stables, hurrying back home to get everything ready for you. It was a last minute decision, and he was honestly already regretting it, but he just wanted to spend more time with you. Even though the two of you had just spent almost 4 hours together, he needed more.

Ellie’s surprised to see him in such a rush, and to see him in the kitchen actually cooking something for once.

“Dude.. what are you doing?” She laughs as she watches him pull out a pot and almost throw open the fridge door.

“I invited her over for lunch. Dunno what I was thinking.” He grumbles, squeezing his eyes together and pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation when Ellie cheers and whoops excessively.

“You finally did it! Oh my god. It only took you 10 years.” She smirks, sitting at the island and watching him grab the most random ingredients, as if they’ll make something good when he puts them together. Her brows furrow before pity floods her system, and she gets up with a deep sigh.

“Okay, what are you actually doing..?” She says, rounding the island and coming to his side.

“I don’t.. I don’t know,” he sighs, “this is gonna be shit.”

“Not if I can help it.” She says, determined to not let this fail. “Just.. gimme 20 minutes and I can make something good.”

“You want any help, or-”

“No! You have to go get ready for your date!” She says abruptly, cutting him off and grinning slyly when he starts going red at her words.

“It’s not a date.. She’s just coming over for lunch. You’re gonna be here anyway…” He mutters, turning and going upstairs to get ready nonetheless.

“You keep telling yourself that, old man.” She smirks, getting herself busy with the cooking.

20 minutes later, Joel comes downstairs freshly shaved and changed into some better clothes than the ones he wore for patrol.

Ellie lets out a low whistle when she sees him. “Wowwww, you actually look half-decent for once. Well done.” She teases, to which he just rolls his eyes.

“What’d you make? Actually looks half-decent.” He smirks as he comes to see what Ellie’s cooked up.

“I made this spaghetti for us, and it looks more than decent to me, thank you very much.”

–

Just breathe.

You keep repeating that in your mind as you walk down the street to Joel’s home. Overthinking, as always, but trying to quell your thoughts when you reach his front porch and make your way up the steps. You clench your fists, taking a deep breath before raising your hand and knocking on the door. It’s opened surprisingly quickly by a very eager Ellie, ushering you inside and informing you that Joel’s just finishing up in the kitchen. You start up some conversation with Ellie as the two of you sit at the table, waiting for Joel. He approaches with the food and your breath catches in your throat when you see him.

He looks fucking beautiful.

He’s wearing a different shirt, one you’ve never seen him in before. It’s a deep green, with the sleeves rolled up just past his forearms and exposing even more skin which you try your hardest not to salivate over, and it’s tucked into his jeans. The jeans are criminally tight on him and you quickly avert your gaze when you catch yourself almost eyeing his bulge, finally meeting his eyes.

“Joel. Hi.” You breathe, and he gives you an equally flustered greeting.

You had just changed into one of your better sweaters and some jeans. Both of them hugged your body perfectly, showing off your curves. The sweater was off-shoulder so it showed off your collarbones as well.

You guessed the outfit was a good choice when Joel’s brain visibly short-circuits at the sight of you, and he blinks a few times before he even realises you’ve said something to him, greeting you back and setting the food down.

“Ohh, damn it. You know what I just remembered? Dina actually wanted to see me like… now. So I guess I’m gonna have to leave you guys here. So sorry.” Ellie smirks, clearly not guilty in the slightest as she gets up from the table and makes her way to the front door.

“Have a nice lunch, you two.”

Joel looks like a deer in headlights, still standing by the table as Ellie leaves, the door swinging shut and leaving the two of you in silence.

“I’m gonna just.. grab some forks.” He mumbles, and you nod, watching him leave and trying not to focus on how good his ass looks in those jeans.

After giving himself a silent pep talk in the kitchen, he returns with the forks and sits across from you at the table.

At first, the conversation is a little slow. Mundane topics like what else have you been up to and the weather’s been looking good recently but eventually, you get into a flow, moving from topic to topic, laughing together and having a really good time.

“This has been great, Joel. Thank you.” You say after helping him clean everything up, much to his protest - ‘you’re my guest, shouldn’t be cleanin’ up’ - but you insisted.

“Pleasure’s mine.” He smiles softly, willing himself to not get lost in your eyes again, averting his gaze quickly.

“Um.. you don’t have to leave just yet.” He starts, and you turn back to face him.

“Got a few guitars upstairs, if you wanted to play… I know we didn’t really get to last time.” He offers shyly, and you can’t hide your grin this time. You’re finally getting to hear Joel play.

“I’d like that.” You say, and he nods, going upstairs to grab them.

He comes back and hands you one, the two of you sitting down in the living room as you strum a little.

“So, what d’you wanna play?” He asks after a minute of letting you get acquainted with the guitar.

“I actually wanted to hear you play first… If that’s okay! It’s totally fine if you don’t wanna-”

“Nah. Figure I owe it to ya.” He says, thinking of a song and taking a deep breath before starting to play. It’s a little bit of a bold choice, but he figures he could play it off if you don’t receive it well.

The dawn is breaking

A light shining through

You’re barely waking

And I’m tangled up in you

You’re stunned into silence as his deep voice cuts through the air, positively transfixed by it and his skilful playing. You’re so entranced that you barely realise the lyrics of the song, but when you do, your eyes go even wider.

But I’m open, you’re closed

Where I follow, you’ll go

I worry I won’t see your face

Light up again

Surely he doesn’t mean it. He just chose a random song. He hasn’t made the same association with it that you have. It’s just a random song.

Even the best fall down sometime

Even the wrong words seem to rhyme

Out of the doubt that fills my mind

I somehow find

You and I collide

You listen quietly as he plays all the way til the end of the song, admiring how he plays, as lost in the music as you find yourself becoming.

You finally find

You and I collide

A final strum rings through the air as he looks up at you, meeting your wide eyes with his own, hoping that you understood what he meant from the song.

You open your mouth to say something, but you’re interrupted by the front door swinging open.

The moment is lost, and you blink quickly, standing up as two voices come from the front door.

“Yeah, we can just go to the gara- oh. Hey.” Ellie says bashfully, realising she’s probably just interrupted something.

“We’re just going to my place. Sorry.” She chuckles, walking through the living room with Dina, to whom you offer a small wave. Dina’s a nice girl, you know her from the school.

As the back door closes, you look back at Joel.

“I should probably get going.” You say, offering him a small smile.

He just nods, clearing his throat to fill the silence.

“I knew you’d be good at guitar.” You comment, and he smiles back at you this time.

“Thanks, sweetheart. You want me to walk you home?” He asks as the two of you walk to the front door.

“That’s okay. I’ll see you on Thursday?” You ask as red taints your cheeks once more from that name.

“Yep. See you then.”

“Thank you for this. Bye, Joel.” You say, leaning up and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek, something you’d decided to do before you could think about it too hard, before opening the front door and leaving him once again stunned, frozen in place on the other side.

You exhale shakily, taking a second to calm your nerves before heading back home.

Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3

Next Chapter

Tags- @mermaidgirl30 @tuquoquebrute @joelmillerisapunk @pascals-doll @casa-boiardi @konigslittleliebling @xxx-silhouette-xxx @hannah9921 @friskispunk @orcasoul @s0meoone

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foundress0fnothing · 9 days ago

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touching you i catch midnight

For my love, @beesays. Happy Holidays! It has been such a joy to get to know you better over these last few months, and I hope you enjoy this feysand modern AU, second chance romance l've cooked up for you. You are such a wonderful fandom friend and I am sending you so many hugs this holiday season 🎄

Thank you to @violetasteracademic for beta reading for me! 🫶 babe 💕

Also many thanks to @acotargiftexchange for putting together this wonderful event. Y'all are the absolute best!

Summary: It's been 10 years since Feyre left her hometown—and everyone who lived there—behind. Now she's back, working at her sister's event planning company, and throwing a birthday party for her ex's mysteriously MIA fiancée. Lucky her.

This is chapter 1 of 5.

title from Audre Lorde's “Recreation”

Read below the cut or here on ao3!

November 1st

Feyre leaned against the brick wall at the entrance to the rooftop, tiredly scanning the space to see if she’d missed anything. String lights? Check. High top tables with dried flower centerpieces? Check. A truly excessive number of black, white, and maroon pillar candles arranged strategically to bathe darkened corners with a glowing warmth? Check. A cascading flower arch of green and gold and burnt orange and deep maroon that she had spent far too long trying to assemble? Check. A tension headache and the niggling sensation that she had definitely forgotten something? Check.

Nesta glaring? Also—unsurprisingly—check.

Her sister stood next to her after having come up from the restaurant downstairs. “It’s a little gauche, no?”

“You approved the design,” Feyre scoffed. It was just like Nesta though—only her eldest sister would open an event company and then be critical of everything the clients requested. Valkyrie Events had been open for a full year, and as far as Feyre knew, Nesta was unofficially banned from getting involved with anything client-facing when it came to the decorating side of the business.

Nesta shrugged. “It’s not my fault if the clients have bad taste.”

Feyre rolled her eyes. The space was fine—lovely even, not that she was trying to praise her own work. Emerie had found a newer restaurant in the city that rented out their top floor and rooftop bar, and Valkyrie Events had taken over the space early that morning for the event. The lights and the candles and the autumnal colors Feyre had set up all spoke of warmth and joy and family, and when the event started in a few hours, they would look even more magical against the darkened city skyline. Perfect for an engagement party.

She felt some small part of her strain at that thought.

But she shook her head. What could have been—and what was narrowly avoided—wasn’t worth dwelling on. Not right now, in any case.

No, now she only wanted to make her way back to her studio, take a too-hot shower, and curl up under the covers with Netflix and a glass of wine until she fell asleep. She could worry about love another day.

And so with a wry snort at Nesta’s impossibly high standards, Feyre made to push off of the wall to head back downstairs, but she felt her sister’s hand grab onto her own before she could actually move anywhere.

“I need you to stay today.”

Feyre groaned, slumping back against the brick and turning a baleful gaze onto her sister. Nesta had enough grace to look slightly apologetic as she said, “Deirdre called out with the flu or something. I can’t have her puking all over the canapes tonight.”

“And you can’t make do with one fewer server tonight? I’m sure the couple will be too wrapped up in each other to notice if someone only stops by with food every five minutes instead of every three.”

“We’re already down a server. Roslin’s taken the day for a family event, and Gwyn, Em, and I are already thin enough with everything else.” She sighed, and then, as if it pained her, said, “Please, Fey.”

It was the echo of what Feyre had said to Nesta one month ago when, fresh off a break up with her ex of almost a decade, she begged her sister for a job. She had finally left Tamlin, but it was at the cost of everything she owned and any financial security she might have hoped to fall back on. She couldn't even stay in the same city; he had managed to use his family’s money and influence to make it so that even the most run-down Starbucks wouldn’t hire her.

And so she had gone back to Velaris where she had grown up, back to her sister who had managed to put down roots and make a life in a place that had been nothing but cruel to her when she was a child. Where Feyre had run, Nesta had stayed and built something—and a new family—that was worth staying for.

To hear Nesta tell it, Valkyrie Events was built out of a combination of strategic late night planning sessions with her two best friends, Emerie Castello and Gwyn Berdara, and their unquenchable feminine spirit. Emerie had confided to Feyre that actually, the three of them had been stoned out of their minds when someone—probably Gywn—voiced the idea, and then they spent the rest of the night messily scrawling down ideas on their fridge white board.

But however it had come to be, Velaris had welcomed the woman-owned company eagerly. They had thrown events for a handful of the other small businesses in the town, a few of the local celebrities, and once, memorably, the mayor’s reelection celebration. A year in now, it was rare that a month went by without Valkyrie Events organizing two or three parties every weekend. As the business grew, the three original friends began to hire some women from the jujitsu classes they took at the Y who were looking for a fresh start until there was a comfortable roster of employees to work events so that no one woman lost her entire weekend, every weekend, to celebrating someone else’s joy without having a chance to make some of her own.

And so it had been an act of kindness—not a need for more employees—that Nesta and her friends agreed to take Feyre on as a decorator. She had an artistic eye, sure, but had never worked as a server, had no experience designing a space, and didn’t have any contacts with other small businesses or local friends to leverage into new opportunities for the company.

Feyre was grateful—she was. Nesta had given her a couch to crash on while she built up some savings, a job, and now, a chance to actually do something worthwhile for the company. The event that night was the first where her work would actually be seen by the clients; the last month had been a marathon of shadowing Gwyn, mocking up plans for events just to get used to the way the company worked, and meeting all the big names in the event-planning world of Velaris.

Today was an engagement party for some wealthy duo who had met as teenagers and apparently loathed each other on sight, only to slowly find their way together when they were randomly paired as roommates at Prythian U. That was the story they had relayed to Emerie when booking Valkyrie Events, anyway. Feyre didn’t know if she believed it—it was too cute, too much like a cheesy romance novel plot to actually be real—but it wasn’t her job to question it.

Although it was apparently going to be her job to serve it.

“Are you sure?” Feyre whined in a final attempt to get out of spending the night bringing mini crab cakes, petit fours, champagne refills to unfairly rich, unfairly happy people.

Nesta grimaced at Feyre’s tone. “Uniforms are downstairs. We should have something to fit you.”

“You’re going to make me wear a uniform? But I’m already staying late.” Feyre drew out the last word petulantly, savoring the way Nesta’s eye twitched.

“Fey.” Nesta gestured at the paint-spattered overalls that Feyre was currently wearing. “Be serious.”

“Fine, whatever, boss. I’ll wear the stupid uniform.”

“There, there, Fey. You look great in black. And who knows,” she said, smiling bitingly, “maybe it’ll be fun.”

–

It was not fun.

Feyre had spent the final hours before the event running around to help Nesta take care of a few final things—lighting candles, making sure the bar was stocked with enough glasses, frantically gluing a wayward twist of flowers from the arch that was already threatening to droop and pull the whole structure down with it.

And now she was standing in a bathroom stall, holding the black server’s uniform in her hand and contemplating the feasibility of a short standing nap before she had to plaster on a smile for the clients. Pros of the nap: sleep. Cons of the nap: literally everything else.

She knew she only had a few minutes, tops, before Nesta came looking for her, and the interruption to her sleep would put her in a shit mood for the rest of the day. And all that, only for a standing nap, leaning against a bathroom wall? She wasn’t sure that she wanted to acknowledge that new low today.

As she grimaced at that thought, her dozy musings were interrupted by the sound of a voice that was strikingly familiar. Feyre froze, straining to place it.

“Are you sure it’s not too much, Viv?”

Viv, whoever she was, assured the familiar voice that it wasn’t too much and that she looked great, and then the two slid into easy chatter about friends and coworkers and weekend plans.

They were guests for the event that night, clearly, and probably family if they were here so early, but Feyre couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew the voice.

She peeked through the gap in the stall door and caught sight of a wine-red dress, a mane of long, blonde hair, and then, as the owner of the voice turned, a profile that caused Feyre to inhale sharply.

Morrigan Datiles. Feyre recognized her. How could she not? They had been like sisters, once.

Mor hadn’t noticed the sound, or if she had, hadn’t cared to investigate it, and so Feyre stood still, waiting until the two women finished primping and walked out of the bathroom.

Forcing herself to kill some time so that she didn’t accidentally bump into Mor in the hallway, Feyre pulled on her server’s uniform, grimacing unconsciously as the black fabric stretched tightly against what few curves she had. All the while, her mind was racing. Why was Mor here? And who was the party for, if Mor was a guest?

Feyre didn’t want to think about the answer to those questions. Thinking about those questions meant thinking about Mor’s family, and then seeing Mor’s family, and then serving Mor’s family, and there was too much messy history between all of them to make that in any way easy.

But still—she had to know.

Feyre stepped out of the stall, washed her hands, and then opened the door into the hallway, peeking around to make sure that the coast was clear. She could hear the hum of the kitchen and the buzz of conversation from the bar, but the path to the offices behind the restaurant where Valkyrie Events had set up shop for the day was mercifully clear.

Nesta looked up from her computer at the sound of the door slamming as Feyre closed it behind herself.

“What.” Her sister had a way of saying the word that felt more like a threat than a question, and Feyre had to steel herself to avoid cringing and backing out of the room.

“Who is the event for?”

“I don’t know, some couple. I don’t remember their names.” Nesta shrugged, disinterested.

“It’s literally your job, Nes.”

“And?”

Feyre was reminded why Nesta wasn’t allowed to talk to clients.

“You could ask Em,” Nesta offered. “It’s her cousin.”

“God, you’re the worst.” Feyre rolled her eyes, but pulled out her phone anyway.

Feyre: Em, who’s the event for today?

Em: My cousin, Az.

Azriel Moreno.

We reconnected a few months ago

Why

Did you know him growing up

Feyre clicked the screen off without answering, closed her eyes, and took a few calming breaths.

They didn’t work.

“You have me working an event for Azriel Moreno?” She whisper-screamed. “Do you remember who his brother is?”

Nesta looked up from her computer. “The gym bro idiot?”

“Not that one—although it’s interesting that you remember Cassian, and we’ll be revisiting that later. The other one.”

“Rich asshole?”

“Yes. Well, no—his name is Rhysand,” Feyre corrected, belatedly remembering Nesta’s disdain for the man. It had been so long since she had said his name, and it felt awkward in her mouth.

“Weren’t you friends in high school?”

Flashes of art class and coffee runs and late night study sessions flickered in Feyre’s memory.

“Yep. And then we weren’t.” She paused, and then turned her best youngest sister pout on Nesta. “Please don’t make me serve this party. Not if they’re all going to be here.”

Her sister looked pained. “Feyre, we need…”

“I know, I know. I just—” She waved her off, and then sighed. “I just didn’t want to see him again. And not like this,” she said, gesturing down at the server’s uniform. It wasn’t awful, as uniforms went—it was black and comfortable and well-made—but it certainly wasn’t what she would choose for a reunion with everyone.

Nesta arched an eyebrow. “Do you have an issue with working for Valkyrie Events?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Maybe he won’t recognize you? It’s been what? Nine years?”

It had been ten. Almost as long as she had been with Tamlin.

“Maybe.” Feyre sighed. “I’ll be ready to help with food prep in a few minutes, then. I just want to touch all of this up.” She gestured vaguely to her head, thinking of the brush and the makeup she was pretty sure were still at the bottom of her art kit from some gallery event she had attended with Tamlin before everything fell apart. There was no way out but through apparently, and she figured she might as well try not to look quite as bedraggled as she felt.

Her art kit was in the car, and it didn’t take her long to find everything (plus a travel-sized deodorant that she had also left there—bless past Feyre for being too lazy to unpack), and make her way back to the bathroom.

She stared at her reflection. Her eyes were tired, their blue-gray leaning more toward a dull slate, and her freckles stood out sharply against her skin. Her all-nighter to get the decor done was catching up with her, and she grimaced, watching her face contort into a mockery of itself and decided to tackle her hair before attempting any makeup.

Her braid hung limply over one shoulder, a mess of flyaways and frizz, and Feyre slipped the hair tie off to start finger combing it out. It fell in gentle, honey-golden waves, and as she brushed it and let it frame her face, she hoped that, between it and the intervening years, it would be enough to make her unrecognizable. She had tied it back in a braid almost every day in high school after all, too tired from the early cafe shifts she’d work before school to do anything more than get it out of her way.

As she continued messing with her hair, she let her mind wander, wondering what everyone would be like now that so much time had passed. Mor seemed the same—exuberant and joyful—but more polished, comfortable with herself in a way that warmed Feyre’s heart to see. She imagined that Cassian too would be the same as she remembered him—affable and easy going, brotherly almost. Azriel was a surprise, though—she couldn’t picture the broody, darkly handsome teenager as a husband, even if she had just spent the last day preparing what was to be a party to celebrate exactly that.

And then there was Rhys.

Was he married? Or dating? She grimaced at the thought of seeing him there with a date. Not that he shouldn’t have one! Feyre squinted at herself in the mirror, admonishing her reflection for her instinctive jealous reaction. Why wouldn’t he be dating? Even in high school, there had always been a bevy of women following him around, just in case he deigned to notice them. He was handsome and intelligent and rich—it was inevitable that he had found someone with whom to share a life.

She imagined he would have taken over his father’s tech company as well—it was what had been expected of him, even a decade ago, and for all the teenage rebellion that brought them together, Feyre didn’t think that he would actually go through with bucking that responsibility.

She could still remember the day he sauntered into her art elective sophomore year. Picturing the Self Through Pastel, the class had been called—a needlessly complicated way to indicate that they’d be working on portraiture with pastels, Feyre thought—but still, she had worked doubles at the cafe all summer to afford the materials for it. Finding that no one else was sitting at her station on the first day of class, she had resigned herself to a semester of exclusively painting self-portraits and had just begun to sketch out the rough contours of her face when the door to the art room creaked open to reveal a tardy Rhysand Ashcroft: senior, soccer star, soon-to-be homecoming king, and someone who had absolutely no business taking her art elective. Without so much as a word of apology to Ms. Alis, the teacher, Rhys had sauntered over to the empty spot near Feyre.

“This spot taken, darling?” He leaned his weight against the wood frame that held their station’s easels, the audacity of the movement immediately irritating Feyre. Because of course it wasn’t enough that she had to scrimp and scrape all summer to be able to afford this elective in the first place—no, now she’d get to spend the whole semester trying to make something worthwhile for her RISD portfolio while fending off distractions from a future business major frat bro enrolled in what she was sure he considered a blow-off class.

“No.” She shifted her side of their station as she said it, causing him to pitch forward slightly before catching himself against the stool.

He gracefully lowered himself onto it as if he hadn’t almost eaten shit. He looked her over, a smirk blooming on his face, and said, “What a warm welcome, darling.”

Despite herself, Feyre smirked back, and even now a decade later, the memory still made something in her warm.

Maybe she should just Google Rhys to prepare herself for whatever the night was about to be.

Just as Feyre was about to pull out her phone, she was interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. She sucked in a horrified breath as she caught a flash of red and blonde out of the corner of her eye and quickly looked down to let her hair obscure her face.

But she wasn’t fast enough, and Mor had always been good at sniffing out the truth.

“Feyre Archeron.”

Feyre sighed. “Hi, Mor.”

#feysand #acotar gift exchange 2024 #acotar gift exchange #feysand au #feysand fic #feyre archeron #rhysand acotar #feyre x rhysand #modern au

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lemon-world1 · 2 years ago

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You're everything I never knew I needed. │Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

I’m fully aware of the inconsistency in my writing/posting. I’m even more aware that there are many similar fics, but... It’s never enough. I just had to. I’m a sucker for our boy Frankie taking care of his girl. Hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, period pain

summary: Your period came unexpectedly just as Frank comes to see you after being away from NYC. It's pure fluff.

Not everyone can say they're friends with the most badass vigilante in New York City. You and Frank have forged an unbreakable bond over countless nights spent stitching up his bullet-ridden body. He'd crawl to your balcony like a wounded animal seeking shelter, and you'd nurse him back to health.

Your friendship was simple, you took care of him, and he took care of you. He'd fix things around your apartment, like the water heater that blew up or carry your groceries to your apartment. But it wasn't just his actions that spoke volumes. You could see something in his eyes when he looked at you - a hidden feeling.

Sometimes, Frank's PTSD would get the best of him, and he'd lash out at you. But you knew it wasn't his fault. You stood by him, no matter what because you knew what he went through. You were always there for him, no matter the cost.

You never told Frank how you felt about him, but you didn't need to. He knew, just like he knew, how much you meant to him.

...

It's been a while since you last saw Frank. He had told you he would be out of town for a bit, which left you stuck in your apartment with nothing but your thoughts and the TV. You'd become accustomed to being on call in case he needed you, causing you to lose touch with most of your so-called "friends." But you never gave a damn about them. Frank was the only one who mattered in the big apple.

You had expected tonight to be just another dull evening spent munching on chips and binge-watching another crime docu-series on Netflix. You had passed out in bed, cuddled under the blanket you used to cover Frank with after a long stitching-up session.

But at two a.m., you jolted awake to a familiar pain stabbing your gut. You didn't bother tracking your period calendar because you hadn't been with anyone for so long that you stopped caring about when it would come.

Shit. You cursed as you realized your bed was stained with blood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck. This can't be happening. Today was the day you had to pitch your new designs to your most critical client, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with the aftermath of a messy period. You had no time to wash your sheets, deal with the cramps, or even shower at this godforsaken hour.

You needed relief fast, but when you reached for your painkillers, you remembered giving them all to Frank when you stitched him up a few weeks ago. You searched through your first aid kit for anything to alleviate the pain, but in haste, you knocked the whole thing over, spilling everything onto the tiles.

Arrghhh. You were furious at this point, knowing the nightmare was just about to begin. Over the years, you had become used to being dependent on painkillers; otherwise, your period would kill you. Your ob-gyn had tried everything to ease the agony, but nothing worked, and contraception was out of the question. You always kept your prescription pills close by for emergencies, but not this time.

Forty-three minutes had passed, and you were already showered and dressed in fresh pyjamas. The sheets were washing, and a hot cup of chamomile tea sat on your nightstand. But the pain was creeping in, gnawing at you with every passing moment. All you wanted to do was wrap yourself in a fluffy blanket and forget about the world. You tossed and turned on the bed, but the pain persisted. At the realization that you probably wouldn't be fit to get up at 5 and get to work at all, you started panicking. How were you going to cancel the pitch?

My boss is going to fucking kill me.

Well, she might if your period doesn't kill you first. After another 20 minutes, your silent sobs turned into horrific cries from pain. And just when you thought things couldn't get worse, the familiar knock came.

Knock. Knock. You looked up and saw a hulking figure peeking through the curtains on your balcony. It was him.

You got up slowly, your feet planted on the ground as you made your way to the balcony door.

Frank knew something was wrong the moment he saw you. He could see the pain etched all over your face. Your puffy red eyes, thick, comforting blanket hugging your shoulders, and forearm holding your belly as if it offered support told him everything.

"Hey, baby girl," he said, his voice breaking as he saw you in such agony. "Is everything alright?"

You said nothing, still gazing at him, unable to process that he was really standing in front of you. His hand reached out, gently wiping away a tear from your cheek.

"Hi Frankie, uh... is something wrong? Are you hurt?" He couldn't believe your words. You were in obvious pain and still asked if he was okay. Another piece of his shattered heart glued together at the thought of your kindness.

His hand still on your cheek, he spoke again. "Nah, I just got back to the city. I drove by your buildin' and saw you were up. I figured I'd check up on ya," he said, his voice full of concern.

You cracked a smile, knowing that Frank was always looking out for you. He was the one person you could count on, no matter what.

A visible frown formed between his brows as he realized you were barely standing on your feet. Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest. You were so small compared to him. He gently stroked your hair and held you tightly, feeling the heat radiating from your body. He knew something was wrong because you were never hot. He had felt your icy cold skin whenever he touched you, even during the hottest summer days. Without question, he lifted you in his arms and carried you across the room to your bed.

"Frankie, I'm cold," you said, your voice trembling.

"Shit. You might have a fever," he said, his face creased with worry. "Why you ain't wearin' no socks, baby girl?"

Usually, you would melt under his sweet nicknames, but you couldn't even blush right now. He reached for your sock drawer, pulling out the thickest and fluffiest pair of socks he could find. He gently put them on your feet, making sure they were snug.

"You take any painkillers yet?" he asked, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of relief.

You shook your head; you could barely speak at this point. Your body felt like it was being ripped apart, but you refused to give in. "I ran out of meds. Nothing I have is strong enough," you managed to say, gritting your teeth.

A loud scream left your mouth, making Frank sit beside you on the bed and instantly wrap his arms around you. He hugged you from behind, letting you weigh into him. One of his palms rested on your forehead, wiping your cold sweat from the burning skin, and the other squeezed your hand placed on your belly.

Frank's eyes narrowed as he watched you writhe in agony. "I gotcha," he said, his voice low. "Just tell me what you need."

You shook your head again, unable to focus. "Just stay," you pleaded.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in your ear. "I'll take care of you."

Another hour passed. You still lay there, your body racked with pain. Frank did what he could to ease your suffering, but he knew it wasn't enough. You started to fall asleep but remembered you couldn't be late for work.

"Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you please set my alarm for 5:30 am? I can't be late; I'm pitching a new proposal to a client."

"Is that the big one you was tellin' me about last time?"

"Yeah, it's important," you mumbled again.

"I will." No, he won't. There's no chance you're going to work in such a state. When you finally fell asleep, he knew he couldn't let you go to work in the morning. He took your phone and dialled your boss's number.

You had her saved as "Your Highness," which always made Frank chuckle when you called her that.

Your boss picked up on the first ring. "Hi, it's good you're callin', the-" She started, but Frank interrupted her immediately.

"Mornin', ma'am. It's, ugh, Pete, actually. Sorry to bother you so early, but my girl won't be in today. She's, uh... under the weather," Frank said in a gruff voice.

"Oh dear, I hope she feels better soon. I was about to text her and tell her the client postponed last minute. She can take two days off; she hasn't used any sick days yet. Please give her my regards," the boss replied with concern.

"I will. She needs some rest. She'll call ya back when she can."

"Of course. Thank you for letting me know, Pete. She mentioned you a bunch of times. It's good she has someone to take care of her."

"'Course, ma'am."

Frank made one more quick phone call before he heard you moving. He rushed to you only to find you frantically searching for work clothes.

"Easy there, darlin'. Your presentation got postponed. You got two days off now."

"What? How?"

"I called your boss. Told her you were sick."

"You did what?!" You were surprised and angry.

"Relax. She said you could take your sick days. You go back to bed and get some rest."

"Really?" A huge weight just dropped off your shoulders. "Thank you, Frankie." You were relieved and grateful.

Ding. Dong.

"Who the hell is that?" you wondered aloud.

"Lemme get that. You go back to bed," Frank said, already halfway to the front door.

You were feeling better, but still in pain, so you crawled back to bed and waited for Frank.

"Who was it?" you asked, curious.

"Just a friend of mine," Frank replied as he handed you a package of pain meds. "A combat medic. He knows his way around this stuff."

"I thought you took care of the drug dealers, not became friends with them," you quipped, the first hint of humour in your voice all day.

Frank chuckled. "Anythin' for you, sweetheart."

You smiled at Frank, feeling grateful for his presence in your life.

You looked at him, trying to read his expression. "Frank, what does that mean? Anything for me?"

He hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "It means I'll always be there for you, no matter what. I'll protect you, take care of you, and never let anythin' happen to you. You're important to me, more than you know."

You felt a warm sensation spread through your chest, and you couldn't help but smile. "You mean a lot to me too."

Your heart swelled with emotion as he leaned in and kissed you gently. "I'm not good with words, but I hope you understand," he whispered.

As Frank pulled away from the kiss, he looked at you with a tenderness that melted your heart. "You should rest," he said softly.

But you didn't want to be alone. "Will you stay with me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, darlin'," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shifted over in bed, making room for Frank to join you. As he settled in next to you, you snuggled up against his chest, feeling safe and protected.

"You know," you said after a few moments of silence, "I never expected to find someone like you."

Frank tightened his arm around you. "What do you mean?"

"I mean someone willing to go to such great lengths to take care of me and protect me. Someone so kind and gentle but also so strong and fierce. You're everything I never knew I needed."

Frank's lips curved into a soft smile. "I feel the same way, darlin'. You're the one thing that makes everything worth fighting for."

You sighed contentedly, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time. As you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Frank's arms, you knew that no matter what the future held, you and Frank would face it together.

For years, Frank had been haunted by nightmares, unable to find solace in anything. But with you by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope that he hadn't felt in ages.

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