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getitoutofmymindwrites · 1 month

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The crushing | joel miller x f!reader, 5.2k

Summary: This is the story of a man who had everything in the palm of his hand and traded it all for an empty space in the hollow of his heart. Or This story follows Joel, two to three years after he cheated on his wife.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, ANGST, cheater!Joel, Joel's POV, this is NOT “The Falling” from Joel's POV, brief mention of smut (p i v) but nothing too graphic (I think), self-loathing, depression, therapy, flashbacks and memories from the past, alcohol consumption, Tommy being a supportive brother (eventually), as always let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Ok, so, Joel gave me a whiplash on this one, he was either staring at me through the screen giving me nothing, or he was mumbling unintelligibly in my ear while I was trying to keep up with him. It started out as a final chapter, but I really think that this part should be Joel's POV and the next and -probably- final one should be the resolving, however that may come. I guess it can be read as a standalone, but if you're interested, it's a sequel to “The Falling”. I edited it seven thousand times because I kept adding things along the way, so I hope it all makes some sense and there are not too many mistakes.. Thank you for taking the time to read anything I write! Love you all! 🥰😘

P.S.: I just wanted to take a moment and let you know that I really appreciate everyone who has read, liked, commented, reblogged and asked about “The Falling”. I honestly didn't think a single soul would take the time to read that kind of story. It means more than you know and I didn’t take lightly how close to home this fic hit for some people; yet you’ve given it a chance, sharing some of your own experiences with me. I love you all, take care and I'll see you -hopefully- in the comments! 🥹🫂

Dividers by @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

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...need your reassurance...

...your only focus…

...for the foreseeable future...

He did make it his sole focus. Because of course, he closed the deal, even after he left that damn table like a madman. He still found a way to get what he wanted. That's the man he was. And he wasn't sure if he hated himself for it or not. But self-loathing was a daily occurrence now, so one more reason added to the list was nothing he couldn't handle.

For two years he would wake up every day, is it called waking up if he doesn’t sleep at all?, he would work his ass off, he would go home, he would sink into despair and then he would start all over again the next day. A vicious cycle consisting of 730 days in a row. The deafening silence within the walls of the house was excruciating, the loneliness was unbearable. Even the light penetrating through the windows seemed different than when you were there with him, a dullness surrounding every corner of the now barely lived in space.

You. He hadn’t seen your face in 730 days. He hadn’t smelled your scent or touched your soft skin. He barely listened to your voice anymore, any form of unavoidable communication, you preferred to be conducted by the lawyers, or via text messages, at the most. At the 731st one, he finally knew, something had to change. He couldn’t repeat another day, like all the others that came and went. He simply couldn’t.

Tommy suggested that therapy might help Joel, a few times, but he refused every one of them. Maria was keeping her distance, her place was delicate, being his brother’s wife but also his wife’s best friend. Surprisingly, she was the one who finally got through to him.

“Are you gonna stay a recluse for the rest of your miserable life, then?” Maria wonders, switching her gaze between Joel and the dining room. Everything was untouched, as you left them when you moved out, but the place felt empty, depressing, probably mirroring Joel’s existence.

Joel sighs, closing his eyes briefly. “I’m not a recluse..”, he snarls through his teeth, rolling his eyes at her. He was more than eager to be done with the dinner his sister-in-law insisted on having in his house and be left alone, in his natural state. Alone. Infuriating woman.

“What do you call that?”, Maria persists, goddamn lawyer to the bone.

“What?!” Joel spits back pissed off, looking at his brother next, for support.

“That!” she gestures around his body and his surroundings. “The way you go on for the past two years! Either get over it or do something about it!”, she doesn’t hold back, even when Tommy proposes a gentler approach. Yeah, look where it got you, is the paid answer, so Tommy steps back, shaking his head and raising his hands up in surrender.

“You’ve got him on a leash, hm?”, Joel jokes absentmindedly, “Can you breathe alright, Tommy boy?”, earning himself a hard glare from Maria.

“Maybe the wrong Miller is on a leash..” Maria mutters, causing Tommy’s eyes to widen in horror.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”, Joel retorts doing a double back at her.

“Means that freedom is for those who can bear it.”, Maria throws her napkin on her plate and leaves the room. Joel remains silent, pondering the meaning of her words. It would be a long time before he understood what she meant.

Therapy was hard.

Therapy was hard because he had to do it for himself. He had to concentrate on himself. He thought, being the contractor that he was, that he would walk into the room, get the answers he needed and fix his marriage, just as he rearranged the bricks and the wood and the steel on the construction sites.

But this wasn’t about his marriage. His marriage and the way it crumbled down was the aftermath, he came to learn. It was the outcome of insecurities, selfishness, lack of communication, ungratefulness.

He got it all wrong. Everything. Every little thing. He had to rewire his brain and change every point of view he was holding onto. Honesty. Honesty was the key.

“Why didn’t you reach out to your wife after that night?”, his therapist insists.

“I respected her boundaries.”, Joel was quick to respond.

“And what were those?”

“She didn’t want to see me.”

“Did she say that?”

“No-, I mean-, the way she left that night, she didn’t say much in general. But she blocked my number, so.”, he shrugs in defence.

“So, how can you be so sure that she didn't want to see you? Even if you're right, it doesn't mean that she didn't expect a reaction from you, or that you weren't allowed to try, if that’s what you wanted.”

“Why would she? I upset her, she needed time to think, work things out.”, Joel explains.

The therapist swipes her fingers over her lips, contemplating her approach. “Joel, you walk into your bedroom, into what is supposed to be a safe place and you see your partner with another person in an intimate moment. How does that make you feel? Just say the first words that come to mind.”, his therapist changes the point of view.

Joel shudders just at the thought of it. You, naked, flushed, lips parted and swollen, skin sweaty, breaths short and pupils blown wide, coming for anyone other than him. It would utterly destroy him. “Furious, pissed, betrayed, heartbroken.. I think I would lose it, if I’m honest.” he admits instantly, in his haste to throw the abomination of this image from his thoughts.

“I see. But in her case, you think your wife was just upset?”

“No, of course not.” Joel slightly frowns, shaking his head.

“Do you think she felt all those feelings that you just described to me?”

“I believe so, yes.”, god this is so hard.

“You believe so?” the therapist pushes, again.

Joel’s nostrils flare from the sharp inhale, “I know so.”

“So, she wasn’t just upset.” the therapist concludes and Joel agrees without meeting her eyes, “No, she wasn’t.”

Over time, Joel came to realize that his choice of words was a subconscious attempt to diminish the seriousness of his actions.

“You said in a previous session that you gave space to your wife to work things out.”

“Yeah, it was only fair.”, Joel confirms.

“So, it was hard for you to give her that space?”

“Yes, of course, I missed her every day.”

“Was that a constant in your relationship?”, the therapist wonders.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“How did you work things out as a couple, before? I assume you had difficult times as partners, no?”

“Nothing major to be honest, my wife was a very calm and reasonable person. If anything occurred she would talk to me about it.”

“And how did you respond to that?”

“Uh, I was there to listen, we always found a solution together as a couple.”

“Hmhm, so, what changed this time?”

“What do you mean?” He knew exactly what she meant.

“Why didn’t you talk to her? Communicate with her? Maybe help her see your side of things, like you did before, find your way out of this together, as partners.” his therapist explains. “And even before the infidelity, did you let her know that something was bothering you, that you felt differently?”

"I didn't feel differently about my wife. My feelings for her never changed.", he immediately corrects her. "My love for her was never the problem," he confesses and it's the first time since his therapy began that he's shared something so personal, so private.

“But there was a problem, something was wrong if you felt the need to be intimate with another woman. So, why did you keep that from her?”

Joel opens his mouth already knowing he does not have an answer. Or that he doesn't want to give one. He shakes his head, raising his brows in a silent admission that he can’t answer that. Or he won't. His gaze is fixed on a loose thread on the fabric of the couch, his fingers keep picking on it.

“Joel?”

“I- I don’t know what you want me to say, I don’t know.” he keeps shaking his head. He can’t answer that. He won't.

He was so angry when he left the session that day. He was so angry at you. He was angry at your honesty, your clarity, your courage to have a mind of your own and to speak it freely, knowing full well that probably no one else shared the same opinions as you did. That's what he loved most about you, but now he hated it.

“Own it, Joel. Own what you have done. At least that way it will be worth something. Otherwise it was all for nothing.”

This was one of the last things you said to him on the phone, while he was trying to persuade you to change your mind about the divorce. You were always so brave about those matters. Matters of the heart, of integrity. He remembers you always talking about things that he found admirable but utopian. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

“I need to be able to sleep at night. I need to own my decisions; not because I’m always right, far from it, but at least I know I’m being honest with myself. And that matters.” he recalls one of your late-night talks.

You usually found it easier to share your most vulnerable thoughts once you were thoroughly fucked and satiated. When Joel held you in his arms, your breaths almost shared over the same pillow, your scents and your fluids mixed together.

“We’re all imperfect beings, flawed; we all feel embarrassed when we fuck up,” you continue, “it’s hard to admit our mistakes to others, I get that. But deep down we always know what we’re doing and why we’re doing it. Admitting it only helps us to be present in our lives.”

“Be present?”, Joel seems fascinated by the way your mind weaves your thoughts together into deeply rooted beliefs.

“Yes, my love, there's no greater freedom than to live your life truthfully.” you smile at him, softly. Your sleepy eyes roam his face affectionately. Your fingertips caress his jawline, your thumb pressing lightly against the bare patch of his beard. He can feel your devotion pouring from your fingers and sinking into his skin at that moment.

“That’s one of my greatest fears, you know. Living my life in ignorance, in a lie.”, you whisper your deepest insecurity against his soft lips. His hold on you tightens as he rolls you onto your back, nestling his hips between your welcoming thighs. You are safe in these arms. His arms. You surrender to him, body and soul. You can feel his growing erection pressing between your folds, already wet from your combined releases. He tenderly brushes his lips against yours and slowly licks his way into your parted mouth, as he intertwines his fingers with yours. He enters you in one fluid, slow thrust, his warm exhale cooling your wet lips. “Then let me give you something real.”

Thinking back to those moments, Joel couldn't reconcile himself to the fact that he was the one who had brought that fear of yours to life. What broke him was that it was not a lie. Your life together had not been a lie. He loved you. In fact, he was burning up for you. He was a man of control, but not with you. Never with you. You consumed his every thought; being around you for too long made his lungs constrict in pain, begging for a deep breath. Sometimes he was worried sick that if he completely let himself love you like he needed to, he would suffocate you. He loved you. And it killed him that his actions suggested otherwise.

But at some point he had to be honest with himself. He was just protecting his ego. He was trying to get the upper hand out of a shitty, compromising situation. He wasn't being thoughtful, he was being selfish. He was biding his time. He thought the longer he left ‘it’ untouched, the less it would hurt when the inevitable time of confrontation came. He was scared out of his mind that he would lose you forever. No second chances, no redemption, no reconciliation.

No lingering scent on his pillow as your hair pools there, under his chin, as you nestle your face between his neck and shoulder, breathing him in. No laughter through the enormous house, damn, why did he build it so big; you never clarified what the disbelief in your eyes meant when he said he built this house for you, while he pulls you up on your feet for a silly cowboy dance.

No more gentle touches, no more noses brushing together as a silent goodbye in the kitchen before you rush off to work. No more turning around just before you open the door to leave, running to him like a little girl, giving him quick, hungry pecks on the lips while he laughs on your mouth, squeezes your butt cheek and slaps it playfully to say goodbye. Later, baby, he would promise you, his teeth nipping at your earlobe and he could feel your skin crawling with anticipation.

No more I love yous, either breathed, either whispered, either panted, as he makes a home for himself inside your warmth.

When did he fuck you last? He used to have you every day. You craved it every day. You craved him. Why did he stop telling you he loved you every chance he got? When was the last time you said it?

A week before that fateful night, when you touched him longingly, aching for him to touch you back and he told you he had work to do, he wasn’t a teenager anymore. Why the hell did he say that? Why did he sit there and watch the light fading from your eyes? I love you, you said with a sigh against his temple and walked out of his office defeated. Why did you say that? Did you know? Did you suspect? Why didn’t you fight him? You should have said something, anything, pushed him, punched him in the chest, woken him up. Would he have woken up? Or did he need that to come to his senses? Does he have to fall? Does this falling ever stop? Does he have to let you go? Will you come back to him? Does he deserve you?

Days blurred seamlessly into one another. Joel drifted further and further away from everyone. The house haunted him, all the progress he was making within the therapy walls was dissipating once he stepped inside the cold space of his empty house. Leaving the confines of it was his first thought in the morning, while he hurriedly dressed to go to his office far earlier than necessary and his last when he closed his eyes, as he laid his weary limbs on the couch, chasing still your now long gone scent on its fabric, knowing another sleepless night was his only companion until the first rays of sunlight hit the floor-to-ceiling windows to announce the beginning of another day.

People at work tiptoed around him, not knowing how to act. It was as if he was there, but not really. He was focused solely on the Marks project, mechanically going through board meetings, paperwork and supervising the construction site. He. Just. Wasn’t. There.

Joel, will you please sign the papers?

He simply stares at the text message for a good full minute, his thumbs hovering over the screen of his phone. This was one of the rare occasions you had initiated communication with him, always about the progress of the divorce.

No, no, I won’t, the little toddler in him screams, stamping his little feet on the ground.

The papers are not ready.

Joel texts back. He keeps it simple, frightened he might not get an answer back.

Joel, we both know they are. I don’t want any of your assets or your money; this is an easy signature, please.

An easy signature? You think he cares about the houses, or the cars, or the money?

You know I can’t accept that. The house is yours and so is a good part of the money.

The point was to share this house together, Joel, don’t you think us splitting up kind of defeats the purpose? And what on earth makes you think I would ever want to go back in there?

So, there’s nothing I can do to make this easier for you?

Easier? You think money or property can make up for what you’ve done?

Of course not, I wasn’t implying anything like that. Just wanna do something for you, anything.

Can you turn back time?

Of course, he can't. So, he doesn't know what to say to that. He just keeps staring at the screen, lost in thought. After 2 minutes another text follows.

You know I can’t..

Sign the papers. Please.

“Is there anything in particular you want to talk about today, or should I take the lead?”

“Actually I’ve been thinking a lot about that night.”, Joel suggests for the first time. He usually lets the therapist decide where to steer the conversation, then simply refuses to elaborate until he feels ready to talk.

“What about it?”, he shifts his gaze from the window to the direction of her voice.

“I should probably rephrase that. I’m always thinking about that night, repeating it in my head again and again and I’m troubled by something I realized.”

His therapist nods to signal that she's listening.

“Why did she just leave? The more I think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense to me. She just left. No shouting, no breaking things, no attacking either me or-”, her. “Why she didn’t stay? Why she didn’t insist that I leave? She was just- so quiet.”

The therapist smiles in recognition of Joel's near breakthrough. They were beginning to get somewhere, his empathy nudging him under the surface.

“I'm really glad you mentioned that, Joel, so I'd like to take you back to that night and try to understand what might have been going through your wife's mind at that moment," she explains.

“So, she walks into the house, finds her safe space violated by her husband, and she chooses to handle the situation calmly and quietly-” Joel tries to stop her, but she already knows what he's going to ask. “I can't tell you why she chose that path, that's for her to answer, only she knows why.” His therapist continues, “She is making one request of you and one request only, can you tell me what it is?”

“She asked me to leave the house.”

“Hmhm.” the therapist looks at him expectantly.

“I just wanted to talk to her.”, Joel elaborates, “I thought that if I refused to leave, she would accept to listen to me.”

“So you forced your needs on her, while she was in a particularly fragile state of mind.”

“I should have made my intentions clearer, you mean?”

“I mean, that maybe you shouldn’t have had any expectations in the first place. Why do you think was so important to you, to explain yourself right at that moment?”

“Because I knew it was probably the last time I would see her for a while, I just wanted to ease her pain, why is that so wrong? Should I be indifferent? Would that be better?”

“Did it ever occur to you that you might be depriving her of her right to choose?” Come on, Joel, break some eggs.

Joel now begins to make connections. He rubs his hand over his face, the realization of what has really happened crushing him. “Oh, god, I-” He's been so selfish from the start. He hasn't shown you any respect, not even at this delicate moment. He didn't give you a choice as to whether you wanted to listen to him or not. He didn't even let you choose where you wanted to stay. He just made you leave the house. Did he make you believe he wanted you to leave? That he wanted her to stay? Because he didn’t. Fuck. “-I never thought about it like that.”

Fuck.

How could he be so blind? Why was he so blind?

His therapist insisted on it. Because no matter how much progress Joel made over the course of a year, he never revealed the true reason behind his infidelity.

“Joel, we’ve talked about a lot of things; you’ve tried really hard to make this all about your wife and about understanding what she was feeling and how your actions have affected her, but as I keep reminding you”, she smiles understandingly, “you’re the one in therapy, you need to heal your wounds before you even attempt to heal hers. And although it is in fact a really noble thought, this” she gestures between them, “can only work if you do it for yourself. I know it may sound selfish, but I promise you, it is not. It is the exact opposite.”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”, his voice hoarse from sleep as he answers the door after the insistent knock at it. Tommy looks at him surprised once he opens it, “You’re sleeping, already?”. No, he wasn’t. He wouldn’t call it that. But when he goes almost a week without any proper rest, passing out is the right word for what he’s doing. “Yeah, I guess I dosed off..” Joel lies. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Tommy responds as he squeezes himself through the door to enter the house. “Yeah, sure, come on in.”, Joel mutters under his breath. “You just saw me at work this morning, is everything all right?”

“I just came to check on you.” Tommy confesses uncomfortably.

“You could have called.”

“Would you have answered?” Tommy deadpans.

Touché.

“Tell Maria I’m fine, Tommy, no need to worry about me; go spend the night where it counts.”, Joel replies in an attempt to push him away, as he walks farther into the house, rounding the kitchen island.

“Hey, brother, I’m here, I am here for you.” Tommy’s eyes narrow in pain and concern as he stares at his sibling's back, following behind him.

Joel exhales hard through his nose, his grip tight as he grabs the edges of the counter, his head lowering between his shoulder blades.

“You shouldn’t, nobody should.” Joel sighs, rubbing the pads of his fingers across his forehead.

“Ok, that’s enough.” Tommy snaps at him. “Enough self-loathing, enough resignation. Enough. You’ve punished yourself enough.”

Joel laughs at that. “Is that right? Is it enough for you? What about her?” he asks, his head turned to the side, looking at his brother over his shoulder.

“What?” Tommy is genuinely confused.

Joel turns his back, resting his waist on the edge of the counter, now looking straight at Tommy. “I should have what? Just get on with my life? Let it all be water under the bridge? Disrespect her even more?”

“Jesus..” Tommy mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other resting on his hip, his eyes shut in frustration.

“Are you doing this for her? Does she even know that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Tommy!” Joel raises his voice, exasperated. “I’m not doing this for her, I’m not doing anything for her, apparently and that’s the problem.”, his voice breaks, the lump in his throat too big to push down. “She’s not here anymore, Tommy.” he’s standing fully on his feet now, pushing himself away from the counter, leaning slightly forward, like he’s trying to make his brother understand; his eyes are glazed, Tommy had never seen him so devastated before. “She’s gone. I’ve lost her.”, his palms clenched in fists in front of his chest, resisting the urge to wrap them around his shirt and rip it to shreds, as he wants to do with his heart.

“I thought therapy was working..” Tommy whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor beneath him.

“Oh, it’s working, all right!” Joel chuckles in irony, sniffing his nose. “I’m getting a front-row seat, witnessing what a piece of shit I am-”

“Hey!” Tommy tries to cut him off.

“-what on earth was she doing with me to begin with, is beyond me.”

“HEY!” Tommy's eyes bulge out of his sockets, angry at his brother's self-deprecating words. Joel bends his waist forward, puts his elbows on the island in front of him and lets his head sink in again.

“Ok.” Tommy breathes deeply to ground himself, his hands in a position of a prayer in front of his mouth, “Ok, we could both use a drink.” he realizes, as he moves to open the cupboard to grab two tumblers and the whiskey from the shelf with the drinks. “..or five.”

The two brothers drink their first round in silence, both calming their nerves down. Tommy refills their glasses without asking; he knows this is going to be a long night.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” Tommy begins, pushing Joel’s drink back towards him. Joel wringles his brows in confusion, “What are you talking about? You’re always there for me.”

“No, I haven’t, not really.” Tommy admits, “I let Maria take over when all this happened and I’m sorry.”

“There was nothing you could do, Tommy, don’t sweat it.”

“Let me say this, please.” Tommy raises his hand, his palm facing his brother. “I was just- fuck, we all knew how much you loved her, how much you loved each other, so when it all went down, I just didn’t know how to deal with it. What to say to you, how to comfort you. I didn't know how to deal with you.”

“You blamed me.” Joel says matter-of-factly.

“No-”, Tommy weakly refuses but Joel shakes his head dismissively, interrupting him. “It’s ok, Tommy, you should.”

Tommy looks embarrassed, his cheeks slightly pinkish, not only from the whiskey. “It’s just that I- I couldn’t reconcile the image of the man you were with her, with.. you know..”, he stutters.

“..the image of a cheater. Say it.” Joel adds.

Tommy shakes his head, like he still can't believe what's happened. “Besides, while she was staying with us those first few weeks I saw how devastated she was, man- she was a shell of a woman, so I was confused, I didn’t know how-”

“Tommy. Tommy, it’s fine.” Joel feels his skin crawl visualizing you like that in his head, cutting his brother off once again; he deserves every ounce of mistrust and he knows it.

“No, it’s not.” Tommy insists. “Yes, you fucked up. Brother, you really did. You did a number on her-”, Joel’s body tenses instantly at his brother’s words, his jaw clenching as his eyes darken, moving down to his hands, his grip on the tumbler tightening, his knuckles turning white and Tommy stops abruptly, “shit, sorry, I didn’t mean-”, his face twitches with regret.

“It’s the truth. That’s exactly what I did.” Joel’s gaze seems detached as if he's somewhere else right now.

“What I meant to say, is that I should have been there for you in spite of what has happened. I can see you're suffering, it's taking its toll on you, it has been for some time now; tell me what I can do. How can I help you?” Tommy seems almost desperate, like he’s the one in need of redemption.

Your text flashes through his mind, can you turn back time?, making him smile bitterly.

“Can you turn back time?” Joel's repeating your question and as the words leave his mouth he can feel your presence next to him. That's the most he felt of you for the last three years. He's almost blissful.

“You know I can't.” Tommy sighs. Joel laughs earnestly, the irony of the moment too good not to appreciate.

“Joel, brother, please, just talk to me. Help me understand. You act like you’re the one who’s been cheated on. So, what happened? Why did you do it?” Tommy is pleading with him to give him anything.

Silence fills the room for much longer than either of them would like. Joel feels torn between telling his brother everything or keeping his mouth shut. He wants to tell him, he hasn’t told a soul, but he’s not sure he can get the words out. He’s not sure he can bear to hear the words coming out of his mouth. He’s not sure he can substantiate it, make it real. Because that’s how it feels. He talks about it and it becomes real.

But maybe this is the right thing to do. That’s what needs to be done. He needs to talk about it. He needs to tell the truth and admit the pain he’s caused. Make it real for you, too. Perhaps it is time for him to give you what is rightfully yours. Acknowledgment.

Joel’s made up his mind. He’s gonna talk to Tommy. He lifts his glass to down his drink for some liquid courage, freezing his hand in mid-air as the next words fall from his brother’s mouth. “First of all, who was it?”

“What?” Joel's eyes search Tommy’s through his glass for an explanation.

“Who did you do?”, Tommy clarifies.

Joel feels like he’s been struck by lightning. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Who did you fuck, Joel?”, Tommy begins to feel confused, are they not on the same page here?

“You don’t know?”, Joel can barely speak now, his voice low in shock.

“No one does, not even Maria; she never told anyone.”

You told nobody? Not even your best friend? Why on earth would you do that? Did you feel ashamed? Was it just too much to talk about?

But his brain takes pity on him, helping him for once to understand. He’s connecting the dots while your voice fills the corners of his mind through his memories. His head is swarming with images of you standing in that walk-in closet, remembering what you said the last time he saw you. You’re the one I married, not her. I expected better from you, Joel, not her.

You were right.

It didn’t matter who it was. That is why. He was the one making the choice. He was the one breaking his promises, breaking your trust, breaking your heart; breaking you. He was the one who should have known better. He was the one who should have been honest. Easy in theory, hard in practice.

He feels a fresh wave of pain scattering through his body. He welcomes it. Damn, he’s craving it. He’s glad you chose to withhold the identity of the woman. Not because somehow it’s making it easier for him to defend himself, on the contrary.

There’s no one else to blame. Nobody. Just him. All of the anger, the resentment, the disappointment, all of them on him. He embraces them all. Everything. He will take it all, swallow it down and let it rot inside of him.

Joel tells Tommy everything. Everything, but her name.

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Taglist: @southernbe, @orcasoul, @auteurdelabre

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punkshort · 2 months

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somewhere to run | 10. austin

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You and Joel travel to Austin to meet with a lawyer.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, hurt/comfort, flirting, sexual tension, emotional abuse, infidelity, some recapping of DV and SA situations but nothing new, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected (reader previously mentions she's on bc) piv sex

WC: 6.6K

A/N: I have started a notification blog - @punkshort-notifs if you are interested in following for fic updates (but I will be keeping the tag list for this series until it is over)

Series Masterlist

One Month Later

Life carried on the way it always does. Without permission, regardless of any pain or suffering, it always remained a constant. Whether you were present or not, whether you wanted to acknowledge it or hide from it, it didn't matter, because life always carried on.

The first week was the worst. A week of what you could only describe as depression. A week of being alone. Safe, but terribly alone. Going to work helped distract you, until he came in for lunch like always and it felt like your heart was being torn in two all over again. And you could tell it hurt him, too, but you both seemed willing to withstand the pain over not seeing each other at all. Because even though it hurt, it was a reminder you were alive. A reminder that you could still care enough about somebody else, despite everything.

The second week was when you could no longer smell him in your bed. You woke up one morning, eyes barely even open as you searched around the pillowcase, then the sheets, grabbing and pulling at the fabric, desperate to seek out his scent to no avail.

The third week was when you finally didn't have to fight the urge to call or text him, even though he said you could, you knew it would just make things harder. And he must have agreed because he didn't reach out, either.

The fourth week was when you began to feel like you were finally coming out of your slump. You could go to the grocery store or pharmacy and didn't feel your heart skip a beat, you didn't scan the parking lot for his truck in the hopes of running into him. You didn't stop thinking about him, but it just hurt less. That is, until you ran into Hailey coming back from work one evening.

She was out on the sidewalk, cleaning up some garbage from the picnic tables in front of the pizzeria when you waved and caught her eye. You could immediately tell something was wrong by the pained smile she gave you.

"Hey," she said, the smile not reaching her eyes as she leaned up against her broom.

"What's going on?" you asked her. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"Yeah, I know, sorry. Work's been-" she waved in the direction of the propped open door and shook her head. "But I've been meaning to talk to you."

"Oh?"

"It's about book club," she said, dropping her gaze to the ground. "And I just want to let you know, I voted against it-"

"They don't want me back, do they?" you offered, trying to make it easier for her. She sighed and shook her head.

"It's all so stupid, I'm sorry," she said, looking up at you again. "Nikki's got all those old ladies wrapped around her finger and they're just pissed Joel dumped her for... well, y'know."

"They know we aren't together, right? I mean, I'm married..." you trailed off, not wishing to go into too much detail when you knew eventually when you went to court, all your dirty laundry would be aired.

"Yeah, they do. Still, they blame you, and it's stupid, like I said. They should be mad at Joel, it's not like it's your fault, and I swear I tried explaining that-"

"It's okay," you said, holding up your hand and giving her a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but it's fine. I have a lot coming up, anyway. I won't find that much time to read."

"But we can still hang out! Do you wanna go get drinks this weekend? Or maybe see a movie?" Hailey asked, and you could tell she genuinely felt bad.

"Yeah, either of those sound great," you said. "I'll text you and we can figure something out."

You made a hasty exit and dragged yourself up the stairs to your apartment. Even though you probably wouldn't have continued to go, the rejection still stung.

For a while, the silence was deafening. Without a TV to even distract you, leaving you with endless amounts of time to overthink, you were worried you were going insane. You lucked out recently and found a decent TV at a thrift store, so you at least had something to occupy your time, although you knew it would be short lived. In a couple days, you had an appointment to meet with a law firm in Austin. An appointment Joel had set up and offered to attend with you, and at the time, you were so desperate for anything to do with him, you agreed, but now you were wondering if that was a bad idea. Almost two hours in the car alone with Joel? No, that didn't seem like a good idea at all.

"Whadd'ya mean, you wanna drive separate?" Joel asked as you refilled his coffee. "That doesn't make any sense. Waste of gas."

"Yeah, but I was thinking of staying an extra day. Check out the city," you lied, turning your back to him so he wouldn't be able to see through you.

"Alone?"

You cringed at the word, but nodded. The little dinner bell rang in the window and your eyes jumped up just in time to see Thor put Joel's sandwich on the small shelf. You grabbed the plate and set it down in front of him, his eyes still boring into you, waiting for a better explanation.

"I think it'll just be easier," you said quietly, the words only meant for his ears. When he connected the dots, he leaned back in his chair and nodded.

"Oh," he said, gaze drifting down to his food. "That's a shame. I was lookin' forward to it."

"I'm sorry," you told him, grabbing a rag and pretending to wipe down the counter so your conversation didn't invite gossip and speculation. "So was I. That's the problem."

"And if I promise to behave myself, would you reconsider?" he teased, finally making you smile a little.

"I think you're incapable of behaving yourself, Sheriff," you replied, making him chuckle.

This was what your relationship had been reduced to: quick, flirty exchanges over coffee and turkey clubs. You supposed it was better than nothing.

"C'mon, it's just a couple hours. If you want, you can nap or listen to music," he said, picking up his sandwich and taking a bite.

"Fine," you relented, but only because once you offered taking two cars out loud, you realized how stupid it sounded.

"Pick you up at 7?" he asked around a mouth full of food.

"Sure. Do I need to prepare anything? I've never gotten this far in the process before," you told him, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Nope. Helen already sent over all the reports and once the process gets started, they'll reach out to whatever hospital you went to back in Philly to get your emergency room medical reports," he explained, and you nodded along, feeling fidgety. "I'm sure they'll do some more digging while they're at it. Reach out to his police captain and all that."

"Right," you said, biting your nail.

"One step at a time, alright?" he told you softly, picking up on your nerves. "You already did your part, now let the lawyers do theirs."

"But I'll have to testify," you reminded him, and he slowly nodded.

"Most likely, yes. You don't have to, but it'll help your case if you do."

"And he'll be there?" you asked, wringing the towel between your hands.

"Yeah, he'll be there," Joel said, watching your face fall. "But I'll be there, too. You just look at me when the time comes, don't look at him."

"Okay," you said, taking a deep breath. You knew this would be hard, but you also knew it was necessary. "And this lawyer - they can help me get a divorce?"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay," you said again. You forced yourself to smile even though the anxiety was already creeping up. "I can do this," you told him, trying to sound confident.

"Hell yes, you can do this," he replied. "That's my girl," he added, picking up his sandwich then pausing before taking a bite. He glanced up at you and gave you half a smirk when he noticed the look on your face at the term of endearment. "Sorry, I'll behave."

You had initially dreaded waking up so early, but after the restless night's sleep you ended up having, it turned out it didn't make much of a difference. Your appointment was at 9:30 and it took about two hours to get to Austin, so Joel arriving at 7am gave you a decent cushion in case there was traffic.

Already two cups of coffee down, you poured the rest into a travel thermos and grabbed your purse before jogging lightly down your stairs. You locked your door and turned towards the street to find Joel's truck parked right out front. Glancing around, you noticed it was fairly quiet still, which was a relief. Joel didn't have to take you to see a lawyer. His job was technically done until the trial. He was doing this for you, to give you some support and advice and it would be ideal if you could keep people from gossiping about it for as long as possible.

"Mornin'," he greeted you with a lazy smile, which perked right up when you handed him the thermos. "Oh, you're an angel, baby," he murmured, taking a sip with an appreciative groan. You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on your seatbelt. Less than two minutes and he already had you squirming in your seat.

The first hour of the trip actually turned out to be relatively quiet. You sat in a comfortable silence, listening to the radio while Joel hummed along and tapped the steering wheel and if you closed your eyes, you could imagine the scene just a little differently. Instead of Joel taking you to see a lawyer in Austin so you could press charges and divorce your abusive husband, you imagined you were taking a road trip together. Maybe with no destination in mind: just the two of you and the open road, stopping whenever you saw fit to explore and staying at roadside motels with stiff sheets and shag carpets, limbs tangled together as you panted into each other's mouths. No secrets. No drama. You smiled to yourself, the fantasy giving you a pleasant reminder of what you could have if you just stayed strong.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked, and your eyes opened to look at him.

"Nothing," you said, and he clicked his tongue against his teeth. God, you missed that tongue and what it could do.

"When all this is over, do you think we can take a road trip together?" you asked him, and his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yeah, 'course we can," he replied, glancing over at you briefly before looking back at the road. "Where did you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," you said, rolling the back of your head against the seat. "Just wanna be with you," you added, softer this time. He looked over at you again, examining your face quickly before focusing back on the road.

"Me too, baby," he said, just as softly.

Joel stopped at a gas station just outside the city to fuel up and stretch your legs. After using the restroom, you wandered up and down the aisles while Joel pumped gas just outside. You were the only one in the store, aside from the sleazy cashier with greasy hair and nicotine stained teeth leering at you every time you crossed his field of vision.

You decided on a couple waters and some sugary pastries and made your way up to the front, forcing a polite smile for the cashier, whose eyes were greedily raking up and down your frame as you approached. You were wearing a modest dress with a cardigan, doing your best to look put together for your appointment, but that didn't stop the cashier's eyes from roaming.

"That all?" he asked as he began to ring you up. You nodded and hummed before glancing out the window, watching as Joel replaced the nozzle on the pump.

"$8.32," he told you, his eyes dropping to your chest as you pulled out a ten dollar bill from your wallet and handed it to him. Your fingertips tapped impatiently on the counter as he slowly counted out your change, clearly trying to prolong the interaction longer than necessary. When it appeared he was ready to hand over the money, you held your hand out, but he pulled your change back a bit and leaned forward.

"You from 'round here?"

"No, just passing through," you said, lifting your hand again, but he clenched your change in his fist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doin' out here all by yourself?" he sneered, his hand dropping below the counter to not so subtly adjust himself in his pants. You made a disgusted face and he smirked.

"She ain't alone," Joel's deep voice rang out from behind you. The cashier's eyes drifted over your shoulder and looked like he was about to make a snide comment when you felt Joel's hand around your waist. His eyes fell to Joel's belt and saw the badge and gun and the smirk he was sporting a moment ago vanished. He quickly handed you back your change and busied himself with organizing the cigarettes while Joel tugged on your waist, urging you to back towards the parking lot.

"And you wanted to drive separate," Joel teased as he led you towards his truck. He opened the passenger door and stepped back so you could get in but you paused and looked up at him. His forehead crinkled as he grinned, his eyes squinting in the sun and all you wanted to do was kiss him and never stop.

"What?" he finally asked when you didn't make a move to get into the car.

"I really want to kiss you right now," you murmured, and you watched the grin slip from his face and his eyes flick down to your mouth.

"We can't," he replied, his voice pained as his gaze continued to drift from your eyes to your lips.

"I know," you sighed. Instead, you stood on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss on the corner of his mouth, your lips lingering a moment longer than you should have before climbing into his truck. His breathing stuttered, the feeling of your lips on his skin again sending him into a tailspin. He took a deep breath and looked up at you in the cab, putting on your seatbelt.

"Soon," he told you, giving your leg a squeeze before closing the door.

"So you mentioned you know some of these lawyers?" you asked him as he drove through downtown Austin.

"Yeah, I've dealt with this law firm a lot on some cases over the years. They're good people, as far as lawyers go," he joked before making a right hand turn. "I asked to meet with one of the women. Her name's Madeline. She's nice. Been there a real long time. Thought you'd feel more comfortable with that," he said, and you nodded.

"Thank you," you told him for maybe the twentieth time that day. You were convinced if not for Joel, you never would have made it this far. You would have had no idea where to even begin, but he knew the answers to all those questions and helped give you the confidence you so desperately needed.

Your hands began to shake and your stomach felt like it was in knots as the two of you walked up to the front doors of the impressive four-story building. Men and women streamed in and out of the doors, most dressed in suits and pencil skirts and talking on their phones hurriedly. You swallowed the lump in your throat once you got to the front of the building, but Joel held the door open for you with a reassuring smile.

"Don't be nervous, it'll be alright," he murmured as you walked up to the large receptionist desk that housed two women with headsets on, typing furiously into their computers. One looked up and caught your eye, giving you a friendly smile.

"Mornin'," Joel said, telling the young woman your name and appointment time. She glanced at her computer and nodded before looking back up at you both with another smile.

"I'll let her know you're here, you can take a seat. It shouldn't be very long," the woman said, casting Joel one more admiring glance before she turned back to her phone and dialed a number.

Joel led you over to some plush couches and chairs and you nervously picked up an old magazine. You skimmed through it, just looking for something to occupy your hands as you waited. He sat down next to you, then inched closer so he could rest his arm along the back of the couch. It felt like he was wrapping his arms around you without actually touching you, and it gave you a temporary sense of peace.

After a few minutes of listening to the receptionists answer the phones and transfer calls, you finally heard your name and Joel's. You both looked up to find a thin, middle aged woman with short, blonde hair and glasses and a kind smile waiting for you.

"Maddy," Joel said warmly, and the hairs on the back of your neck went up. He wouldn't have asked an ex-girlfriend to represent you, would he?

"Joel, long time no see," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before introducing herself to you and shaking your hand.

"That's usually a good thing," he reminded her as the two of you followed her down a long hallway, passing by a few empty conference rooms and closed doors that presumably lead to offices.

"Yes, very true," she agreed with a chuckle before stopping in front of her office. She extended an arm, inviting the two of you to enter first before she followed and closed the door behind her.

"How's Tracy?" Joel asked, glancing at a photo on her desk as you sat down.

"She's great. It's our ten year anniversary this summer. We're planning a cruise," she said, settling into her desk chair and shooting you a smile.

Okay, so probably not an ex.

"Alright, let's not waste any time. I know you drove a long way to get here," Madeline said, clasping her hands together on her desk and giving you another smile. She gave off a positive energy, and you could feel yourself loosening up. "I read over everything Joel sent over so I know the basics, and I am so sorry for everything you've had to endure," she said, her eyes softening. "But can you explain to me why you've never tried to come forward before? Trust me, his lawyer will bring it up."

"Well, I have tried," you began, your fingers tangling together in your lap. "I've gone to the police a handful of times but every time I thought I was making progress, Patrick would do something - call in a favor, I don't know," you said with a shrug. "And my police reports magically disappeared. I've gone to the hospital on several occasions-"

"That's right, I did read that. Which hospital?" she asked, picking up a pen, the tip hovering over a legal pad.

"There were a few different ones," you said, then rattled off the names and approximate dates you visited each hospital.

"Okay. We'll reach out and get copies of those records for the trial," she said, dropping the pen and looking at you to continue.

You went on to tell her about your experience with the police back in Philadelphia and how angry Patrick would get after those visits. You told her about his disappearances for days at a time and how he would come home in a haze, no doubt with alcohol and some type of drug in his veins, how those were the times he hurt you the most.

By the time you got to the part in your story where you packed a bag and left Philadelphia during one of Patrick's benders, you felt a lot more at ease. Your nerves were gone and Madeline's comforting gaze made it so much easier to tell her everything.

"So the next step in the process is discovery. Our team here is going to be digging up dirt back in Philly, and I am sure Patrick's lawyer is already doing the same thing," she said, putting down her pen and looking at you over her glasses. "That being said: is there anything I need to know? I don't like surprises in court. I don't care if you ever smoked weed or pushed him back, I just need to know so I can get ahead of it." You quickly shook your head.

"No, I've never tried drugs and I never hit him back." You glanced over at Joel for the first time and found him staring at you with a look in his eye that made you believe you were thinking about the same thing. After a moment, you turned back to Madeline, about to open your mouth to speak when Joel cut you off.

"There's one more thing," he said, sitting up straighter in his chair. She looked at him curiously, clearly not expecting him to have anything to add. "We, uh," he cleared his throat and glanced over at you. "We had a brief, personal relationship," he said. Madeline sat back in her chair and you could have sworn she was glaring at him. "It's over. It was just once," he continued, and you nodded quickly, trying to help him out.

"Nobody knows, either," you told her, drawing her gaze back onto you. "Patrick had his suspicions, but he also accused me of sleeping with two cooks from work, which is untrue," you clarified, "he's just jealous and angry."

"How can you be sure nobody knows?" she asked, and you paused.

"W-well, nobody..." you trailed off, looking at Joel for help.

"It's a small town, Maddy. If people knew, they'd be talkin'. Trust me," he said, rolling his eyes. "The most anyone knows is I had a little crush on her, but nothin' more."

"Besides. Patrick's cheated on me for years. I'm not an idiot, I could smell the perfume on his jacket and found the condom wrappers in his pants pocket," you told her, but she shook her head.

"This is a little different, hun," she said, leaning forward. "Joel's the town sheriff. He arrested Patrick and broke his nose. It's going to look like he had ulterior motives," she said, lifting up a piece of paper in front of her to double check her notes.

"I didn't break his nose, the table broke his nose. It was self-defense. The guy's got nothin'," Joel scoffed.

"Yeah you're probably right, but he's still going to make your life a living hell in court," Madeline said. "You looking for representation, too?"

"What?!" you exclaimed, turning in your seat to look at Joel. "He's suing you?"

"Yeah, it's no big deal. Happens from time to time, nothin' ever comes from it," he said casually.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your voice softening.

"Didn't wanna worry you. You gotta focus on this," he said, pointing to Madeline. "The other shit doesn't matter."

You wanted to argue with him but you knew your time was running short, so you let it go.

"Well at least you had the good sense not to take her statement," she said, glancing down at the papers before her. "Let's just hope it doesn't come up, and if it does, I'll be prepared," she said, making a note to herself before giving you her attention again. "I'll do my best to fast track this and set a court date. I'll have my team call his superior officer and we'll run some checks on him, call the hospitals, and start building your case. I'll be in touch soon about any potential witnesses you can bring to the stand that you trust. Anybody who might have witnessed Patrick abusing you, even if he was just yelling or twisting your arm. People you confided in. Anybody you might think can help, start thinking about it now and gathering contact info, okay?"

"Okay," you said firmly. You were starting to feel better, like this was the beginning of the end. And you had the feeling that Madeline was the right person to fight for you. She seemed honest and straight forward, understanding yet tough. This was someone who would give you your freedom back.

"And I can get a divorce?" you asked, and she nodded.

"Yes, I'm going to file the petition this afternoon and he will be served the papers," she explained. "If he contests it, we can cross that bridge when we come to it, but I'm hoping with all the fire we're throwing at him, he won't want to put up a fight."

"Thank you," you breathed, feeling even more at ease now that something was actually happening today. Any amount of progress at this point made you feel good.

You stayed another hour to review an endless amount of paperwork: the contract with the law firm, reviewing your statement for any inaccuracies, initialing and dating next to so many paragraphs on the petition to be filed that your eyes were going blurry by the end.

As you both stood up to follow Madeline out of her office, you stopped short.

"Wait, what about payment? I don't think we discussed legal fees in the contract," you said, frowning as you pulled your copy of the contract out from under your arm.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought Joel already told you," she said, glancing over at Joel, who dropped his gaze to his shoes. "The partners picked your case pro bono. The firm has to do a certain number each year and Joel suggested to a few of the right people that your case should be considered."

Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped.

"Are you kidding me?" you whispered in shock, trying to fight the tears that were beginning to spring up. You looked at Joel but he averted his gaze before awkwardly clearing his throat.

"It's no big deal-" he began, but you cut him off.

"No, it is a big deal," you told him, and he clamped his mouth shut. Madeline's eyes flicked between the two of you for a moment, watching as you tried and failed to come up with the right words to convey your gratitude.

"The firm is happy to represent you, hun," Madeline said, breaking the silence. "We're gonna make sure this guy gets what's coming to him, understand?"

You tore your eyes away from Joel, who was finding it difficult to look anywhere but the floor.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," you told her, and she smiled before extending her arm towards the door.

As you walked towards the lobby, she was reminding you to expect a call in a few days with an update and to have a list of contacts ready for her, but you just nodded along numbly, barely listening.

Joel had already gone above and beyond by finding you a good lawyer and coming with you for support, but to also convince them to handle your legal fees? He didn't have to do any of this, but he did, and he didn't expect anything in return. Nobody had ever expressed so much concern about you before. And as you walked in silence towards the parking garage, you realized there could only be one explanation. There could only be one reason why he would do so much, and the thought had your heart pounding in your chest.

You drove in silence for a while, the atmosphere in the truck tense. He tried putting music on but you couldn't focus on anything other than everything that happened in the past few hours. Then you started to go back even further: cleaning your apartment and finding you furniture after Patrick vandalized it, walking you home during a rain storm, fixing your fucking sink when you had barely spoken two sentences to him. You rolled your head to the side, watching him as he focused on the freeway, his grip tight around the steering wheel.

"Look at me," you said quietly, and you saw a muscle in his jaw twitch. After too long of a pause, he just said one word.

"Can't."

"Why not?"

"I'm drivin'."

"Bullshit," you said, and watched his throat bob as he swallowed nervously. You continued to stare him down, willing him to look at you, needing to see into his eyes to confirm your suspicion.

"Please, Joel," you finally said, your voice small. You could see the conflict in his face. The way his lips formed a hard line and his brows pinched together as he fought the urge, but once again he found he couldn't say no.

Slowly, he pulled his gaze off the road and forced himself to look at you. Your lips parted as you looked right through him and he knew right then and there he was fucked.

"Pull over," you mumbled, and he just nodded. He could feel the heat of your gaze on him as he took the nearest exit and pulled into a parking lot of what appeared to be an abandoned department store.

He didn't need to ask and you didn't bother to explain.

Once he parked, doing his best to choose a secluded spot, you each ripped off your seatbelts. He reached down to pull the lever below his seat and slid it back as far as it would go and in broad daylight, you climbed over the console to straddle his lap. His hands flew to your hips as you gripped the sides of his face, searching his eyes frantically before your mouth crashed down over his with a moan.

Joel was normally a strong man, but something about you always made him so weak. Weak and selfish and desperate and he wouldn't have it any other way. That's why, even though he knew it was a mistake, he kissed you back. Your tongues tangled together and when your hands slid up to his hair, he was done for. You were too warm and tasted too sweet and felt too fucking good, it was a miracle he came to his senses when your hand dropped down between you to land on his belt and he managed to pull away.

"That's not why I did all this," he said, each of you panting for air. "I didn't do it so I could fuck you."

"I know," you assured him, cupping the back of his neck. "I know why you did it."

He gazed up at you and slowly nodded.

"Reckon it's pretty obvious, huh?" he said softly, toying with the hem of your dress.

You didn't say anything in return. Instead, you lowered your mouth hungrily over his and he happily obliged. And when your hand drifted back down to his belt, he didn't stop you. He couldn't deny it any longer. He tried, he really did, but it was hopeless.

He wouldn't say the words out loud, and you were grateful. Because if he had, you weren't sure you would be able to convince yourself this was a one-time thing. Madeline's disapproving glare was seared into the back of your mind, her comments about Joel's own lawsuit still very much a concern, but when you lowered yourself onto him, each of you groaning your need into each other's mouths as you stretched around him, it all became a distant memory.

"Missed you so much," you mumbled against his skin as your mouth dragged down his jaw. You rolled your hips, slowly at first, but picked up the pace when you remembered you were in the middle of a parking lot and didn't have much time. "You feel so good," you continued, feeling his arms tense around you as he tried to hold himself back. "Think about you all the time. Especially in bed - ah!" you cried out when he began bucking up into you.

"Yeah? You touch yourself when you think about me?" he grunted in your ear, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you nodded. His hands gripped your waist, guiding your movements up and down while his mouth ghosted over your chest, wishing more than ever he could glide his tongue over your nipples, but he was too aware of where you were. He settled for yanking the sleeve of your dress down, exposing your shoulder so his teeth and facial hair could leave little red marks, hidden from view.

"Can't get enough of you, can't fuckin' stay away," he groaned, watching as you circled your hips, greedily chasing your own pleasure. Your arm shot out to the side, seeking leverage against the now foggy window, your fingers leaving telltale streaks as your hand slowly dragged downwards so when he got into his truck the next morning, he would see the ghost of your hand in the early morning dew.

"Joel," you whined, tossing your head back while you began to bounce, your ass accidentally beeping the horn and making you both laugh. Nothing could harm you here. Not when you had each other. Not when you had the feel of his rough hands over your skin and his soft lips against your mouth.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his arms wrapped around you, holding you close. "C'mon, baby. Want you to feel me tomorrow," he said, lifting his hips up to meet yours, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

You gasped as your body went rigid, a white hot heat ripping through you while your legs began to shake and you whimpered his name over and over. You heard Joel groan and say something, probably a warning he was close, but you couldn't be sure. You nodded and mumbled some encouragement but your mind was still too fuzzy and your ears were practically ringing from the force of your orgasm. But when his teeth sunk into your shoulder, the slight pain snapped you out of it. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, pulling you down firmly onto his lap until his body stilled and he grunted into your skin.

You rested your cheek on the top of his head while his face stayed buried in your chest, both of you fighting for air as reality slowly began to sink in.

"Guess I didn't behave myself," he finally said with a chuckle. You grinned and lazily raised your head up so you could look at him.

"I think I'll take the blame for this one," you said before lifting off of him with a little gasp and moving your underwear back in place. You were about to swing your leg back over to your seat when he stopped you.

"Just another minute," he said, his hands mindlessly sliding up and down your thighs, and you draped your arms around his neck.

"We shouldn't do this again," you finally said, breaking the spell. He sighed and nodded but his hands continued to glide up and down your legs.

"I know."

You cupped his face and tilted his chin up to look at you. Your thumbs brushed over his cheeks as you stared into his eyes, still seeing everything he didn't have the courage to say. Leaning down, you pressed a tender kiss against his lips, then rested your foreheads together.

"Thank you, Joel."

"You're welcome, baby."

As promised, a few days later, Madeline's secretary reached out for a list of contacts that could be called upon to support your case. You didn't have many people in your corner, but you gave her your cousin's information back in Philadelphia, an old co-worker who you had partially confided in when the abuse started, a few friends who had noticed bruises but you had made up excuses for them at the time, and you reluctantly gave your mother's information, with the note to discuss with you first before contacting her.

You had hoped Madeline wouldn't want to call on your mother to testify. You hadn't spoken to her since you ran away to Texas, and given the way she responded when you told her what Patrick was doing, you weren't confident she would be a good witness. But it was still someone from your past who you confided in, and that was what Madeline was looking for: a trail of evidence, cries for help, anything to prove the most recent incident was not a one off situation.

"Madeline called me today," you told Joel after picking up his empty plate.

"Oh, yeah?" he asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

"She reviewed all the contacts I gave to her secretary and she scheduled another appointment for next week."

"Great, what day?" he asked, pulling out his phone.

"Tuesday," you said, replacing his coffee with a glass of ice water. He glanced up at you and quirked an eyebrow. "You drink too much caffeine," you explained, and he grinned.

"Ah, shit. I have a thing at Sarah's school that day. Lemme see if I can reschedule it-"

"No, go to Sarah's school, I wasn't telling you so you would come with me, I was just... letting you know," you said with a shrug.

"You sure?" he questioned, and you nodded.

"I'm sure. I know how to get there now and I feel comfortable with Madeline. I swear, I'll be fine," you told him. He put his phone down on the counter and thought for a moment before leaning forward and lowering his voice.

"This ain't 'bout what happened last time, is it?"

"No!" you said in surprise, and he looked relieved. "Not at all. I'm just trying to... I don't know, take control of my life, I guess?" He nodded but he still looked confused. "What I mean is, I think it's important I do some things for myself. Not that I don't appreciate-"

"I get it," he said with a chuckle as he stood up from his stool. "You just let me know if you change your mind."

"Okay," you replied with a smile, but stopped him when you realized he hadn't touched his water. You held the glass out to him and he stared at it, then looked at you with a sigh before plucking it from your grip and downing the whole thing in one gulp.

"Happy?"

"Very," you said with a grin, and watched him as he walked towards the front door, stopping briefly to chat with Maria before heading back to work.

Joel shoved his hands into the pockets of his dress pants as he walked back to the station, nodding to a few people along the way. He couldn't stop his gaze from traveling up to the window above the pizza place every time he walked by, smiling to himself when he noticed a new plant in your window.

The bullpen sounded quiet as Joel made his way back to his office. He liked quiet days. That was always a good day, in his book. He sat down in his chair with a huff, the little orange light on his desk phone blinking angrily at him, indicating a voicemail. He picked up the phone and punched in his passcode. He was reaching for a pen when the voice on the other end of the phone made him freeze.

"Joel, it's Maddy. Give me a call back when you get this, it's urgent."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed@merz-8@sarap-77@nandan11@anoverwhelmingdin@fandomscollide@survivingandenduring@honeyedmiller@pedropascalsbbg@southernbe@pedrosfanny@gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts@missladym1981@spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85@maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox@gobaaby-blog-blog@stevie75@mxtokko@sleepylunarwolf@lizzie-cakes@laurrrra@annieispunk@here4thedilfs @navystandardheatingoilcap @slugz-writes-shit@devilbat@ashleyfilm@scp116@tragerlover@iveseenstrangerthings50 @yvonneeeee @brittmb115@lulawantmula@abbysgirlll@ro-nahime-things@whxtedreams@ashhlsstuff@little-pookie@serenadingtigers@paleidiot@ashy-kit@lizlil@detectivejuliuspepperwood@buckyispunk @fckinel @sarahhxx03 @krispeenuggiez @flippittygibbitts@picketniffler@pedroslittlelady

Please follow @punkshort-notifs for fic updates

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller series #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #sheriff!joel #waitress reader #STR fic

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rhube · 1 year

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Please DO NOT use AI to generate fanfic

Not reblogging because I don't want to bash, but a day after hearing that OpenAI has scraped AO3 to train their writing AI, I've just seen a Tumblr post with AI-generated 'fanfic'.

The billions of hours of labour that millions of fanfic writers have given, hoping for nothing in return but comments and kudos, has been taken and used to train a for profit AI owned by Elon Musk. [So many people have nit-picked this, I'm editing to add: while Elon does not outright own this, as I believed at time of writing, based on the info linked, he did INVEST HEAVILY in it. This does not constitute deliberate misinformation and is honestly not that a significant difference FFS.]

This is bad, guys.

It's bad because it's fundamentally wrong, because it endangers fan works, and because it's illegal.

Not illegal in the way that fanfiction is legally questionable but now broadly defensible by highly trained OTW lawyers. Illegal in the way that copyrighted works and characters have been used for profit to create works with Open AI.

It's wrong not just because the works are created without consent from the labour of authors who won't see a penny, but because the aim of AIs like Open AI is to replace the work of professional writers.

You may use Open AI to make a silly fanfic and have a good laugh, but that's not what Elon wants it for.

If you hate what's happened to Twitter, you should be really, really scared about this.

It endangers fanworks because it awakens the power and might of brands like Disney, who have mostly stopped trying to sue fancreators (although they really, really did used to, and not that long ago) for using their IP and especially for writing LGBTQ+ fic. They're mostly willing to turn a blind eye because we aren't making any money.

But that's not what Elon wants to do. And they might start caring again if they see Open AI writing Stucky (follow the link, it writes Stucky omegaverse fic at the merest mention of Steve) and it obviously does so because it used AO3 as its source material.

You and I know it's not any fic writer's fault, but I don't think Disney cares, and it's cheaper to battle AO3 than Elon.

I should stress: AO3 admins are aware. It's been reported. do not clog up their inboxes reporting it again.

The above reasons and more are all arsenal in the armoury of OTW's lawyers. But that's still a battle to fight.

In the meantime, the very least you can do is NOT USE OPEN AI.

Not for a laugh. Not for anything.

And please: spread the word.

#ao3 #fanfiction #fanfic #open ai #ai isn't wrong #stealing ip to train ai is

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ts19009 · 6 months

Text

Seventeen Fic Rec's

(CONTAINS SMUT AND MATURE SUBJECT MATTER)

(Bold title means favorite)

(UPDATED: December 4th, 2023)

OT13

In Pursuit of Wedded Bliss (Updated Masterlist) (A Seventeen Regency!AU Series) @fantasyescapes17

seventeen fic recommendations

Kim Mingyu

In Soft Hands | Part 2 (Mingyu) @beahae (SingleDad!Mingyu x DaycareTeacher!Reader(f))

what’s your number?; kmg @nevernonline (synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen. paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.)

again and again ⟢(exes, fake dating, mutual pining, idol!gyu, vet!reader, mild angst, fluff, smut) @lovelyhan

creep (Halloween, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu, etc…) @smileysuh

Aphrodite (smut, friends to lovers, established relationship, fluff at the beginning) @highvern

Covert Desires (spy!mingyu x assasin!reader (fem!reader themes: spy au, mafia, enemies to lovers, fake marriage, mutual pining, spies, angst, fluff, killing) @etherealyoungk

Slowly; All At Once (fluff, best friends to lovers with Mingyu, boyfriend material!Mingyu, slight angst.) @gyuwoncheol

Hits Different (...'cause it's you) (1) (brother's best friend!au, brother!seokmin, fluff, angst, smut) @gyuswhore

His Smile(smut, fluff, slowburn, fake dating!au) @angelwonie

Parties, Yachts and Wishful Thinking (enemies to lovers, reader and Mingyu are rich, Mingyu is kind of an asshole but so is reader, parties, mentions of reader crushing on Wonwoo, drinking, cursing, tennis, yachts and pure filth) @ithinkilikeit-reactions

Other Mingyu recs @novalpha

we don’t usually hold hands (m) || kmg & reader (angst, fluff, smut, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, sort-of-mean!oc, nice guy!mingyu, emotionally constipated!oc honestly) @gyukult

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity (smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au) @shuaflix

the very first night. (exes to lovers, roommates!au | romance, angst, smut) Link works on pc and through my reblog i think

OVER MY HEAD (brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.) @hannieehaee

it’s all fun and games (mingyu x female reader ) @dontflailmenow

Hong Joshua (Jisoo)

Loverboy (regency era romance, historical, drama, slow burn, angst.) @starlightxsvt

cranberry concoctions (bartender!joshua x f!reader) @onlyhuis

Mr (not) so perfectly fine (Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst) @hwanghyunjinenthusiast

the devil wears baby blue (mut (minors PLS dni!), strangers to fucking lol) @onlyseokmins

Virgin Killer (cheerleader!reader, nerd!shua, virgin!shua, he’s kinda cold in this but is lowkey still a soft boi, drinking, teasing, jealousy, reader has a little bit of a corruption kink, loss of virginity, oral sex (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, riding, multiple creampies, overstimulation) @wonusite

isohel (all time joshua fav) (slowburn, modern royalty au, angst, fluff) @toruro

mr. nice guy (, neighbor!joshua, joshua's muscles deserve their own tag tbh, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption (NOT drunk sex), petnames (sweetheart mostly :pp), biting, spit kink, unedited as alway) @toruro

eyes meeting, hearts apart ⟢ (; bartender!reader, requited unrequited love, immense pining, angst, flowers, slow burn, smut (MINORS DNI)) @lovelyhan

Jeon Wonwoo

Jeon’s Anatomy - Cast (surgeon au) @hansols-yoda-boxers

Blown up love (gaming is all fun and... well, games, until you start crushing on the only person that takes pity on you and saves you from mobs.) @starsstuddedsky

I found love in your smile (doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc) @wonlouvre

wonwoo reading list / fic recs part 3 ! @jeonride

meet cute of the century (meet cute, strangers to lovers, pining, discourse abt being an idol as a career, mild angst, smut) @lovelyhan

Licentious (babysitter au, cheating au, smut) @wonusite

to build a home (idol!husband! jeon wonwoo x actress!afab!reader) @tomodachiii

X + Y = YOU AND I ||( jeon wonwoo academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader) @angelwonie

yoon jeonghan

just one day (fluff // angst // nonidol!au // brother's best friend // fake dating!au // they're idiots lmao // not edited nor proofread so pls bear w me lol // cursing and. two? kissing scenes.) @wonwoonlightligh

to live again (ime travel!au, childhood friends to lovers!au, slow burn, angst, some fluff, some humor) @viastro I WAS CRYING PLS READ

Pathetic Series @leejihoonownsmyhearthoonownsmyheart

Jeonghan’s Guide to Insurance Fraud (And Falling in Love) (fluff, angst, non-idol au, elementary school teacher!jeonghan, f2L, fake relationship) @starsstuddedsky

xu minghao

✧ the letter (slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l) @toruro

✧ flight of the stars (mut (18+ / mdni), f1 au, brief high school au, angst, fluff) @toruro

✧ oh my! @toruro

fixer upper (s2f2l. “beg” minghao. LOTS OF PLOT with eventual smut. slow and i mean SLOW burn. some member slander(affectionate),) @seungkwansphd

Glacial Pace (fake dating au, friends to lovers, fluff, smut) @wonusite

To Keep You Warm @idyllic-ghost

Kwon Soon-young

My Best Friend's Mother (is the One For Me) — ksy (milf chaser!soonyoung, milf!reader) @rubyreduji

driving lessons for dummies (fluff, humor, smut, strangers to lovers au, college au) @shuaflix FAV ATM XD

be sweet (prince!hoshi x princess!reader) @heartkyeom

charity f*ck (virgin guy who lives with his parents!soonyoung, he’s not shy but he is very clumsy, a lot of texting so be prepared for that format for a lil bit (THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL MEDIA AU), facetime-sex, real life sex) @ncteez

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jarenka · 8 months

Text

Remember this plot bunny? I was thinking about it again and I was like: Nah, Anakin wouldn't be able win against Palpatine to get him arrested. But he can kill Palpatine! So I wrote a fic where Anakin time-travels in the middle of Clone Wars, immediately kills the Chancellor and now Jedi Order need to do something about it because they can't just say: "Sorry, but Anakin Skywalker just returned here from the dark future and killed Palpatine because he was an evil genocidal wizard who planned to take over the Republic. Thank you for your attention."

“How did you find out that Chancellor Palpatine was directly connected with the separatists?”

“He told me himself”.

“Why would he tell you this? Don't you think this is a bit strange behavior for a person who allegedly has been cooperating with the separatists in deep secrecy for many years?”

“We are…” Anakin sighed. It was a touchy question. "Chancellor Palpatine and I were close friends. He proposed... to join him. He miscalculated”.

It isn’t entirelly true. Palpatine hasn’t yet invited Anakin to join him. He bent over his "dear friend", who fainted in his apartment when they had lunch together.

“Anakin, what's going on?.. I need to call a doctor,” Palpatine’s voice came to him distorted. Anakin was dead. He didn't know where he was or why he was hearing a real voice. He didn't know why he felt someone else's hand on top of his own. His lightsaber landed in his palm, and Anakin directed it to the place where the voice was coming from without hesitation. There was a smell of burnt wool and burnt flesh. Something heavy fell on him. When Anakin finally regained full consciousness, Chancellor Palpatine was lying there, completely dead, with a hole from a lightsaber in his chest.

“Why did Chancellor Palpatine invite you to join him?”

Anakin shrugged.

“I don't know.”

“Can you make a guess?”

“Perhaps he was dissatisfied with Dooku.”

Catch Dooku and ask, Anakin wanted to say, but for the past month Obi-Wan and lawyer Laila Hetty have been training him to answer questions correctly.

“So, you don't know for sure?”

“That's exactly what I have said.”

A military expert, a witness for the defense, will confirm that Dooku has failed several important operations in recent months. Perhaps Palpatine had a hand in his failures, but no one will ever know about it.

“What exactly did Chancellor Palpatine offer you?”

They set foot on very dangerous ground. Anakin needed to lie convincingly.

Anakin heard Obi-Wan's tired voice in his head, “You've been a Sith for over twenty years. You should be good at lying!"

He uttered the phrase he had memorized with Obi-Wan: “He offered me a place as commander-in-chief of the Republican army if I help him to prolong the war as much as he needs.”

“How can you, as a Jedi, hold such a post?"

Anakin sighed.

“Chancellor Palpatine wanted to get rid of the Jedi.”

There were whispers in the hall. Anakin tried to ignore them.

“Why?”

“You'd better talk to the members of the Council about this.”

“Did Chancellor Palpatine just casually tell you that he wanted to destroy the Order?”

Anakin closed his eyes and opened them again. He had to remind himself that everyone around him could see his face.

“I myself confessed to him that the Council suspected him of having ties with the separatists and was going to... take action.”

Obi-Wan Kenobi and Adi Gallia will speak on behalf of the Council. They will both say that some members of the council have long suspected that a very high-ranking official works with separatists, and some of them have already begun to suspect Palpatine. Obi-Wan won't be able to remember exactly if he and Anakin talked about it, but it's quite likely — after all, they were very close and discussed a lot of different things among themselves. Another witness for the defense will be an inhibitor chip specialist who will demonstrate that among the orders of the clone army there is an order to destroy the Jedi. He will indicate that this order was sewn in initially, during clone army creation. It’s not that important to Anakin’s case, both officials and independent investigators are now looking into clones’ creation.

“So, Master Skywalker, let's talk about why Chancellor Palpatine decided that you would agree to his proposal.”

I have no idea, Anakin wanted to reply.

“Remember,” he heard Obi-Wan say, “you need to present a convincing story to the jury. You killed Palpatine, it's quite obvious, but you can be acquitted.”

Anakin looked at the jury once again. They were ordinary inhabitants of Coruscant of different ages and races. Who do they see in front of them? The former posterboy of the Republic, pale and disheveled, with dark circles under his eyes. In the morning before the hearing Ahsoka tried to help him clean up, but she had no idea what to do with human hair. Maybe it's even better this way. The jury will think he's suffering terribly after he murdered Palpatine.

“Chancellor Palpatine,” Anakin began, “had already talked about me leaving the Order. He... he knew about my disagreements with the Council and was ready to help me settle on my own on Coruscant.”

“Were your disagreements with the Council that serious?”

“Perhaps I... exaggerated a little in my conversations with the Chancellor, and he thought that my conflict with the Council was much more serious than it really was.”

Anakin in fact remembered that the Council couldn't stand him, and everyone there didn't like him, except Obi-Wan. He thought they would hate him even more when they found out about everything he had done. Anakin was no longer one of them, he had been a Sith longer than he had been a Jedi, right before his death he turned away from the Dark Side but committed numerous crimes before it. And yet the Order came to his defense. It would be much more convenient for them to leave Anakin at the mercy of Republican justice. He would have received a life sentence for the murder of the chancellor and spent the rest of his life in prison. Anakin was ready for such a fate. It was still better than becoming a Sith, and better than losing Padme. She will stay alive, and maybe even visit him in prison.

Instead, the Council insisted on keeping Anakin in the Temple instead of handing him over to the Coruscant detention center. Master Windu came to him and said: “Anakin, you will be judged by a jury, but I'm afraid they won’t like a time-travel story.”

“I know,” Anakin replied. “You didn't have to come here to tell me about it.”

It seemed to him then that Master Windu wanted to gloat. This was a stupid thing to think.

“During the investigation, they will most likely find some evidence that the chancellor passed information to the separatists. And if you prepare well for the trial, you may be acquitted. We will help you.”

“Why would you help me? I'm not a Jedi anymore.”

“That's not true. You're still a Jedi knight, you have a Padawan, and you killed a Sith who planned to seize power in the Republic and destroy the Order. It's the least we can do for you."

Anakin chuckled.

“The least”? And then what counts as “the most"?”

“We won’t talk about it, it’s illegal”.

Mace Windu smiled with the corner of his mouth.

“I know a very good lawyer,” he said. “She and Master Kenobi will help you prepare for the interrogations.”

After that Mace Windu came to him more than once, asked about the Sith, brought datachips with holodramas and recordings of theatrical plays. Obi-Wan brought him records of pod races and his favorite books. Anakin's cell was spacious enough to train, and he had long been used to doing it alone. It turned out that even the prison in the Temple was a much cozier place than his castle on Mustafar or his personal quarters abroad of the “Executor”.”

Adi Gallia came to ask him about Palpatine's ties with different shady groups. Anakin knew about them, although Palpatine didn’t reveal everything even to Darth Vader, his apprentice and right hand man.

“Are you going to conduct your own investigation?” he asked.

“I'm afraid the Order can't afford to investigate. But we can tell someone where exactly they need to dig.”

Anakin was sure that she was talking about official investigators with unnecessary secrecy, and had no good feelings about it. Most likely they, too, were corrupted by Palpatine and would not investigate his machinations too actively, if they didn’t want to accidentally investigate themselves.

A month and a half later, Obi-Wan brought him a datachip and with a large joint investigation of The Evening News and The Point that Chancellor Palpatine was transferring money to several criminal organizations through shady firms under the jurisdiction of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Journalists were able to trace some money to bounty hunters who carried out the chancellor's orders.

“Six months ago,” Obi-Wan said, “someone killed two The Point journalists who were investigating the creation of a clone army.”

“Has anyone reacted to this article?”

“Oh, it caused a full scale outrage. Our media was scaring us with separatists and bounty hunters for years and now it turns out that the Chancellor of the Republic is tied to both of them.”

“It won't hurt the Chancellor in any way. He's dead.”

“But it means that the Chancellor has committed treason, and you... hmm, maybe you didn't act very wisely, because the Chancellor should be convicted by the court, but at the end of the day your actions were justifiable.”

“He's a Sith, he couldn't have been arrested. He would have had time to give the order to destroy the Jedi. And besides, he could bribe investigators and judges.”

“We know that. But for an ordinary citizen of the Republic, you broke the law and killed the Chancellor instead of initiating an investigation. You need to show that you had no other choice, and you acted in the interests of the Republic.”

“So, the last question. Let's go back to why you killed Chancellor Palpatine instead of reporting him to the authorities?”

This last question was perhaps the most difficult. He couldn't answer it directly. Anakin had many reasons to kill Palpatine, but nobody would believe a time-travel story. Jedi agreed not to touch on this topic at the trial.

It's good that Obi-Wan came up with a plausible explanation for me, he thought. During the time they were preparing for the trial, Anakin even managed to convince himself that Obi-Wan has a point.

“At first I planned to do so. The Chancellor committed high treason, he should have been arrested,” he replied. “But I've known Chancellor Palpatine for a long time. He is… he was a very careful person, and he always had a backup plan. As you said, he wouldn’t just confess his crimes to me, a Jedi General," Anakin thought that here he might be suspected of insincerity. He was speaking in Obi-Wan's words, not his own. — “And then I realized that the Chancellor would not let me live if I refused to join him. Probably he planned to poison me, but I didn't think about it back then. I just realized that I would not have the opportunity to inform someone about his crimes. General Skywalker would accidentally die of natural causes, and Chancellor Palpatine would continue to act on his plans.”

To his surprise, one of the policemen later confirmed that they found a container full of lycaea extract in the Chancellor's apartment. It was a rare poison from Outer Rim that couldn’t be detected with standard tests, and the consequences of poisoning looked like a heart attack. “How did you guess he would have the poison?” Anakin asked Obi-Wan later. “If I were him, I would keep something like this in case of an emergency. Being a Sith he could kill a person with his lightsaber or strangle them with the Force, but such a death wouldn’t look natural. "Natural" deaths occur mainly from poison.”

#star wars #anakin skywalker #jedi order

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chrisevansonly · 9 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

✯social media au/fic

✯carlos sainz x lawyer!female reader

✯being a lawyer for scuderia ferrari is fun, hiding another big secret from the team is not

✯this was another request i got that i loved! being a law girly myself i knew i wanted to get this request out because WE LOVE WOMEN IN LAW & we love some Carlos🤭

yninstagram

liked by scuderiaferrari, wagsoff1, carlossainz55 and 765,000 others

a whole lotta red for another day at the track, let’s see if I can keep our boys out of trouble this weekend🏎️

tagged scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and carlossainz55

see 75,000 comments

username LADY IN RED IS BACK!!!!

username out favourite team lawyer 🫶🏻

scuderiaferrari welcome back y/n!!♥️

>yninstagram happy to be back, best place in the world!!

username hehehehe i see that pic of carlos y/n

charles_leclerc can swear i’ll be on my best behaviour 😁

>landonorris sure mate

>yninstagram what lando said

>charles_leclerc YOU HAVE NO FAITH IN ME

username charles is fighting for his life😭

carlossainz55 happy you’re back again♥️

liked by yninstagram

carlossainz55 added to their instagram story

*comments disabled*

Your eyes watched Carlos move throughout your office in Ferrari’s hospitality motorhome, checking out the little trinkets you kept on your cabinet, the photos; his favourite being the one of you two in Monza last year. Working as a lawyer for scuderia ferrari had been a dream come true, the feelings you’d harboured for the spanish driver only a bonus to the euphoric feeling you had walking onto the track for race weekends.

“what are you looking for exactly?”

Carlos hummed

“Nothing, just wanted to look around…see you”

“You’re getting brave coming to see me at work, last night wasn’t enough?”

He turned to face you, a smirk on his face

“nunca es suficiente para mí” (nothing is ever enough for me)

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, vogueitalia, yninstagram and 1M others

the team takes maranello 🫡

tagged charles_leclerc and yninstagram

see 102,000 comments

username Y/N LOOKING FINE AS USUAL

username heheh carlos wanted to slip that photo inside…

username carlos + y/n & then third wheel charles

liked by charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc dream team ❤️

>yninstagram per sempre 🫶🏻

carlossainz55 ❤️

liked by yninstagram

username 😏😏

A warm breeze filtered in through the hotel room you shared with Carlos, he didn’t give you an option not to be together as you visited Maranello with him and Charles for some contract negotiations. Truth be told spending this much time with each other had been such a dream for you, although you still kept things on the low, you knew you loved him so much, and hopefully he loved you too.

“What are you thinking about…?”

You shrugged looking at Carlos as he rested beside you

“Nothing nothing just enjoying tonight”

“dime por favor cariño” (tell me please baby)

Sighing you leaned up onto your elbow so you could see him better, his attention solely on you as he brushed a strand of hair back

“I was thinking-um thinking about how I love you..”

Carlos was silent, your heartbeat picking up as you worried maybe you should have kept it to yourself

“Say it again please”

“te quiero carlos” (i love you)

A smile erupted on his face as his arms pulled you into him, his lips finding yours to press a firm kiss to your lips

“te quiero mucho” (i love you so much)

yninstagram

liked by carlossainz55, wagsoff1, lilyhme, charles_leclerc and 1M others

tired of hiding my favourite view & person♥️

tagged carlossainz55

see 99,000 comments

username MY FAVOURITES YES

username IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS!!!

username isn’t this a conflict of interest…?

>scuderiaferrari we don’t think so, y/n has continued to work hard and keep her personal and professional life separate😊

>yninstagram im adult enough to know if it becomes an issue to find a solution :)

username YES FERRARI AND Y/N SETTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT

charles_leclerc took long enough 🙃

>yninstagram so i’ll pretend like you didn’t break our cover multiple times?

>charles_leclerc yep😁

carlossainz55 te quiero mucho♥️

carlossainz55 added to their story

a/n: okay do we like this format? i thought it was cute but also i don’t know, im my own worst critic😭

#carlos sainz x girlfriend reader #carlos sainz fake social media #carlos sainz fake instagram #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x fem!reader #carlos sainz x wife reader #ferrari f1 #formula one #formula 1 #rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks

567 notes · View notes

cha-melodius · 5 months

Note

Hiiii, do you have any rwrb fic recs (preferably something like, long and an au)? You’re my favorite author so I trust your opinion very highly

First of all, thank you so much! I'm absolutely thrilled to hear you love my work so much. I had to have a think on this one (and find the time to dig out my faves—why do I never use bookmarks?). This is definitely definitely not comprehensive, and there are so many more I love but here are some of my fave long (>40k) AUs.

I have two previous RWRB rec lists (here, and here), and though not all the fics on them fit this request, there are some long AUs on there that I'm not repeating here, but you should definitely check them out.

Never a Guarantee by @clottedcreamfudge (87k, E) Including kidnapping, secret identity, and not-quite-arranged marriage all in a delightfully intriguing historical/fantasy/modern-esque setting (just go with it).

Faster, Higher, Stronger by @everwitch-magiks (65k, E) I am always weak for a figure skating AU, and this one was such a great entry into the genre!

What, like it's hard? by @rmd-writes (65k, E) Lawyers AU. I'm linking the long fic but you definitely need to read the first fic in this series before diving in.

Teach Me, Teach Me, Teach Me (How to Love) by @historicallysam (53k, E) Single dad Alex and elementary school teacher Henry. Absolutely a delight from start to finish.

Speak for Yourself by @welcometololaland (106k, E) Accidental housemates AU, a delicious slow burn, I need to read this one again but I remember really enjoying the whole ride.

Hit (My Love) Out of the Park by bleedingballroomfloor (49k, E) The baseball boyfriends AU is a classic in the fandom, and for excellent reasons. Everything you want out of a sports AU.

into the spotlight by @indomitable-love (40k, E) An actor AU but not the classic "they have to star in a movie together" trajectory. Absolutely love how their relationship develops in this.

A Delicate Balance by @orchidscript (87k, E) Another actor AU, this one of the forced-to-star-together variety, and a wonderfully done example of the genre.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince #rwrb fic recs #fic recs #firstprince fic recs

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st4rb3rr13s · 6 months

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omg heyyy🧡

anyways you should totally do I fic what diff aot boys are like seeing you in lingerie💗🤭

OMGG WAITTT THATS SUCH A GOOD IDEA !!

Aot Boys seeing You in lingerie

Eren, Armin, Jean, & Connie seeing you in lingerie.

Warnings: smut, a tiny bit of angst w/ Jean & Connie, fingering, nipple play, dry humping, oral, (all female receiving)

❥ Eren just got back from work. His job as a surgeon was something that his father, his great grandfather, and many more generations had become. Or they were at least something in the medical field. His mother was even a psychiatrist. He didn’t think he was going to go into the medical field until his brother became an engineer, and his sister wanted to become a lawyer.

He didn’t mind the job, though. It’s his father’s practice, and it’s going to be given to him in a couple years. More time means more experience. It just had put a lot of stress on him. A lot of nights, pent up frustrations and worry had left him unsatisfied when he went to sleep. One of his worries was you. He wishes he could’ve been home more, with you and his dog Daisy. The three of you watched tv, as you two ate dinner. You two haven’t even eaten dinner together in weeks. Of course his job is night shift and your job is only day shifts. He just misses you.

That stupid job is the reason why he’s coming home at 1 am, tired and missing the warmth of your body. He took off his shoes, making sure not to be too loud before tip-toeing to the kitchen. The dinners and notes you made for him always brought a smile to his face. He’s just so appreciative of you being his partner.

He quietly ate your dinner while watching shows on his phone. He heard something move in his bedroom. His head perked up, squinting at the dark hallway leading to the white door. He probably should check what it was, but he shrugged knowing it was probably something falling.

Once he was done, he rubbed the sponge onto the dishes, making sure the plates didn’t make loud clanking sounds. His hands placed the plates back into the cabinets like he was a thief replacing a fake item back into its case. He walked through the creaking hallway. Sadly, his hallway is so squeaky it’s impossible to be quiet.

He opened the door to see you awake. You were bent over, ass in the air as you watched something on your phone. Your head turned, seeing Eren. His eyes couldn’t stare into yours as the pink two-piece lingerie fitted your body so well. It was all see through but had leg garters. His eyes found your pussy, soaking the material in your arousal.

“Well?” You asked. He licked his lips before looking into your eyes.

“You look.” Eren paused, feeling the blood rush into his dick. “So fucking sexy mama.”

He walked over to you, putting his cold hands on your soft plump ass. You groaned, before grinding your ass on his erection. What Eren didn’t know was you missed him just as much as he missed you. You missed how he knew exactly what you wanted and knew how to give it to you.

He slapped your ass, before rubbing the plump. Your skin had always been so delicate, turning red at the first slap. He smirked before sliding his fingers close to your core. Your slick has drowned the lingerie, he even wonders if you can wear it again. He pushed the lingerie out the way before sliding through your stride, before going back up to your clit.

You gasped as his index started to rub your clit slowly. You’ve been waiting for this for a week, since you’ve ordered the lingerie. You remember sitting in your apartment, wishing our toy was your man. You wanted him to walk in with you playing with yourself, but of course he texted you saying he had an extra shift. You sat on your favorite clothing store, scrolling through pants, shirts, until you saw the lingerie set. You knew that it would set him off.

His finger stopped, making you whimper. His fingers went up and down from your clit to where you wanted him most. It felt long and painful hours, but it was just seconds. You hummed, giving him those big doe eyes. His lustful eyes were in contrast to your innocent eyes. Or innocent looking, because you definitely weren’t innocent.

Eren plunged one finger inside, making your mouth turn into an o-shape. His finger went in and out of you slowly, wanting you to get used to his fingers. Your pussy was just so tight since he hasn’t fucked you, all he can think of his length inside of you. Being snug on his dick, as he thrusted into you over and over again. Getting deeper into you everytime he thrusted in. But first, he needed to prep you. Eren leaned into you, giving you wet kisses.

The sloppy pecs were nothing in comparison to how sloppy your pussy was. Eren slid another finger into your folds, making more of a mess for him. You were so soaking wet for him, it was all too much. You felt a pit in your stomach, making you rut your hips into his fingers. He was knuckles deep, making sure to curve right into the spot you love most. His thumb came in contact with your clit, rubbing fast circles on it.

“Cum for me, baby. Give daddy what he wants, yeah?” He muttered. That was the final push for your high-pitched moan, more like a scream, came out. Cum squirted all over his pants, leaving a wet spot where his tent was. Your eyes were closed, nails digging into the sheets as stars filled your mind. You took a couple deep breaths, leggings shaking. You heard a belt buckle come undone, letting you know you were in for a show.

❥ Armin sat in the living room with you, circling your thigh. His vanilla scent waved through your nose as the two of you cuddled. Armin was one of the best boyfriends any girl could ask for. He treats you well, knowing every rule in the book. He makes sure you're ok, mentally and materistically. If it was cold he’d buy you those big jackets that your mom would’ve paid for, but he knew it would keep you warm. During the summer he made sure you had enough summer clothes like shorts and bathing suits. He just wanted to make sure you were ok and never lacked.

One thing Armin lacked to realize is you needed physical needs. Armin doesn’t mean to not fuck you, he just barley thinks about it. If he’s horny he’d tell you, but lately he’s just been too invested with other things. Such as work or spending time with his loved ones.

The two of you especially haven’t been able to be alone since you just got a house. People have been over every single day, giving you two home gifts or food. You were thankful really, but you could never get your hands on your man! He was just everywhere. But today was your two’s day. The only day you wouldn’t let any distractions mess that up. You only have one day a month for this, and you both always looked forward to it.

You looked up at him, giving him an innocent stare. He was so pretty, you didn’t know how you were his first girlfriend. He is very introverted but he’s also hot. Lots of girls like nerds, so it just surprised you. Maybe he rejected them before you? Your head tilted as you saw his cheeks turn pink.

“The show’s pretty good.” Armin muttered. You hummed, ignoring the show. You two picked a show to watch while cuddling, but it was boring. Well, you couldn’t tell if it was boring or if you were just horny. You crawled closer to Armin’s face, giving him a peck before kissing him on the cheek. A soft, sweet, kiss. His eyes gave you a questionable glance. “I can see you’ve been watching the show.”

“Of course, angel.” You spoke, before giving him another kiss on the cheek. He groaned, before kissing you back. Your tongues collided with each other, trading each other’s dna. Armin’s tattooed hand runs down your arched back, trying to get more of him. He gasped, holding your hips down to his dick. “Min, I’m so desperate for you.”

“I am too honey, keep grinding like that, fuck.” Armin muttered. You laughed, leaving Arming confused. You never randomly laughed in the middle of something like this? Nothing about you grinding your clothed pussy all over his clothed dick was funny. He tilted his head back, ignoring you.

Once he opened his eyes, he was surprised. The ocean blue lingerie had a beautiful contrast to your skin. Your tits popped up and down as you pressed harder on his dick. Armin bit the inside of his cheek to hide his moan he was about to let out. How could he when your body was so perfectly sculpted to fit that lingerie set. His hand moved your neck, forcing you into another kiss.

You remember being out with your friend when you saw it. The lingerie was a one piece with designs that made your nipples not see through, but everything else. Especially your pussy, the lingerie leaving a hole for easy access. You knew Armin would love it, you were going to send a picture when you got a better idea, surprising him with it. You knew he’d be put off guard.

And he was, as he kept looking at your body over and over again. Your arousal started to leave a mess on his pants. He could feel exactly when your pussy twitched for something to plunge inside. Something 7 inches that could thrust deeply inside of you over and over again. Something that could make you go dumb within minutes, babbling incoherent thoughts.

“Armin, want your dick, please!” You shouted, eyes teary eyed. Armin looked at the tv. Armin loved to tease you, it was something no one would’ve probably guessed by the way he treats you. He hummed, before looking back at you.

“Nah, if you can cum without my dick or fingers, I may just give you a reward.” Armin smiled. You pouted, you should’ve known he’d tease you.

“Fine.” You concluded, putting your hands on his shoulders. You started to rut your hips on his dick harder, making your eyes roll back. Your sensitive clit kept rutting on his tip, giving you both pleasure. You didn’t know how you could feel this sensitive without cumming, but it was probably the ovulation. You moaned as your hips kept moving against the material, wanting more.

Armin mumbled something, before sitting up. His face was right next to yours before taking your titties out. He started to tweak and roll them on his fingers. You moaned, a sensation felt all over your pussy and stomach. You knew you were so close, especially with everything so sensitive.

His tongue flicked your bud before cum squirted all over his pants. Armin looked at you as you panted. Your eyes were closed feeling satisfied. That was until he patted the plump of your ass 3 times.

“Cmon, let’s go to the bedroom.” Armin spoke.

❥ Jean stayed in the bedroom, eyes closed. His beautiful partner had a surprise for him. Normally he’d be working right now. His stupid office job has been giving him more hours and less hours to spend with his gorgeous partner. It had made him annoyed, he just wanted to make some money and spend more time spoiling you with that money.

All his friends say you’ve changed him. Jean used to be an asshole, and he still is, but definitely a touch softer. The way his eyes gleam when seeing you, like a puppy seeing its owner. His guard isn’t so tough when he’s with you, more easier to approach. His friends don’t know how you did it, wanting him to be like this for a while.

The two of you met at a club, it was just a one night stand. Until you forgot your lip gloss, and that got the two of you talking. Jean realized he’d love to pursue you as a partner and asked you out. You were not ready and he understood, and of course waited for you. Waited til you were healed, waited til you were done with school, waited until you were ready.

When you started dating Jean, you joked you should’ve gotten together sooner. Jean is such a gentleman! He gives you princess treatment, paying for anything and everything for you. He wanted you to get the treatment you deserve since you are his princess. So that meant clothes, hair, nails, food, purses aka anything you looked at.

Jean was such a gentleman, you had to make most first moves. Yes, he would ask you out first, but that’s pretty much it. You would have to initiate the first kiss, hand-holding, wrapping his arm around you, and of course sex. Of course you two had a one night stand, but one night stands and relationship sex is totally different. Jean just didn’t want to rush you.

Just like now, how Jean’s sitting in his office room, hearing your footsteps. Your cold body shivered as you opened the door, watching as he sat patiently in his chair. Jean was a patient man. If you asked him to wait with his eyes closed, he’d do it. Even if he heard your footsteps getting close, he’d wait. Even if he felt your hand coursing through his hair, he’d wait. He’d wait until he hears the magic word.

“Open.” You whispered. As his eyes opened, he saw the beautiful two piece lilac lingerie. It had purple flowers on the top of your tits and the front of your pussy. Your leg garter held up the thigh high socks.

Jean’s face turned pink, eyes looking you up and down. The gleam in his eyes got bigger until he looked at your eyes. Your eyes that hold the lust you have for your boyfriend. He bit the inside of his cheeks, wanting to do so many things to you. But first, before Jean does anything he always asks.

“May I?” Jean whispered. You hum, as his hand goes to your cheek, softly brushing it. “Words.”

“Yes, Jean, please touch me.” You sighed. As soon as those words came out, he pulled you onto his lap, where you could feel his erection. Jean leant in, giving you a sweet, soft kiss. His lips were always sweet, as sweet as sugar.

Jean’s hands found your hips, squeezing the flesh. Both of your tongue’s collided, giving each other sloppy kisses.

His touch lightly crawled up to your top, pulling the lingerie off your mounts. His fingers and your bud squeezed together, making you gasp. Your head leaned back, giving him access to your neck. He gave you a few wet kisses before sucking on a part, sure to leave you with a purple spot. The combination of sucking and rubbing made a sensation down there, making your pussy wet.

He kept playing with your nipples, circling and twisting. Your legs started to twitch as your head fell on his shoulder. It felt so good, you wanted, no, needed more of him. He started nibbling on your ear, knowing that was one of your weak points. You couldn’t take it anymore, you needed Jean just as much as he needed you.

“Jean, please.” You gasped. He hummed, giving your cheek a kiss. He didn’t mean to tease you, it’s just he wanted to hear what you wanted. He didn’t know why, or rather why his dick got harder with why when you whispered about wanting him, did it make him want you more. “Please, want your cock, Jean. Want you inside of me.”

“Ok, sweet heart, one second.” Jean mumbled. His lips came in contact with your other nipple, sucking on the nipple. You gasped, your eyes starting to water. You knew you were about to cum just from him playing with your nipples. Did you really care? No. But was he going to remember this? Yes.

“Jean, I’m close. Please!” You gasped out. Jean’s tongue licked your nipple, and that was over for you. Cream squirted on your lingerie, wetting it and Jean’s pants with cum. Your eyes closed as your hips rutted in the tent of Jean’s pants. His eyes watched as your high pitched moans rang through his office, before calming down. With a loud pop, Jean drew circles into your back.

“Think you can do one more round?” He asks.

❥ Connie sat on his game console, talking to his friends, while his girlfriend stood in his door frame, arms crossed. Connie was a good boyfriend, he made you laugh when you were upset, fed you til your stomach exploded, and became interested in your hobbies. He was the perfect boyfriend, til it came to that stupid game console and his friends.

All his friends were nice. They all loved you with open arms, saying a girlfriend to Connie is a friend to them. But you couldn’t help the way Connie spent so much time with them. If you wanted to hang out you had to wait til he was one playing with his friends, which could take all night. Sometimes you just wanted your boyfriend.

You slowly made your way to him, hearing the arguing through his headset. It sounded like Eren and Jean got into another argument, of course Armin was trying to keep the peace but Connie was instigating, like he does. Your arms wrapped around the boy, your head being placed on his shoulder. His eyes hit yours, before smiling. He put himself on mute, before moving one of his ear pieces to the side.

“Hi baby.” Connie smiled. His voice was so sexy, it made your pussy already become wet.

“Hi Connie, you’ve been playing for 5 hours, maybe it’s time to get off and help me set up for dinner?” You asked. You could hear the obnoxious yelling Eren and Jean were doing, threatening to beat each other’s asses next time they see each other, which never comes true.

“In a minute, babe. Just need to finish one more round.” Connie told you. Your eyes rolled on their own, hearing that line one, too many times. He acts like you're an idiot, like you were in the beginning of your relationship.

“Connie, you always say that and then it’s 1 am.” You pouted.

“No I don’t, I’ll be there in like 10 minutes.” Connie scoffed, moving his shoulder so you could get off. You glared at him for his rudeness, seeing he just got off mute. You walked out of the room, arms crossing.

Connie always does this, and you’re so sick of it. He acts like your time isn’t precious. You could be doing much better things than begging him to help you with dinner. You weren’t going to take this, take him, being a jerk. You were done begging him to do stuff with you. You could do things independently before him.

Now you could make dinner by yourself, but that wouldn’t do anything. Making lots of noises with the pots and pans, vacuuming, even cleaning the walls with bangs wouldn’t make him get the hint. So it would take a lot more than just showing him independence. You looked at your ivory door, looking to see Connie still on that stupid game.

You walked to your bedroom, before opening your closet door. The clothes that hid the package you bought a week ago. The black lacy lingerie you had bought that you knew Connie would love, or drive him crazy. It was a perfect punishment, you knew Connie couldn’t get enough of you. Even if he could see you with jeans that showed how tight your ass was, he was getting turned on.

You pulled out a shoe box you both loved using on you. A bunch of toes, different sizes and colors. Although you loved Connie’s dick the most, a vibrator would keep you company some nights. Other nights Connie would use one to tease or punish you. But tonight it was the other way around.

You walked back into the living room, in a bathrobe, seeing he was still on that game. You sat bits away from him, before taking off the robe. You could still hear Eren and Jean’s voice when you put the vibrator on. You pressed it on your clothed clit, making you moan out in pleasure. You missed this feeling.

One of your hands found your tits, and circled your nipple. You gasped, your pussy twitching for something to be inside. Your fingers slipped the lingerie to the side, pressing the vibrator inside of you. Your mouth formed an o-shape as your hips jutted out. Your clit was pulsing, wanting to be touched so bad. Your fingers worked faster so the mounts on your breasts were taken care of before sliding your hand towards your clit.

You felt a hand stop you, making you open your eyes. Connie, whose headset was off and game on pause, stared daggers into you. He finally felt what you felt. You knew Connie would hate the fact you decided to tease and punish him by playing with yourself, but fuck did you feel proud of yourself.

Without saying a word, he took the vibrator out of your hole, pressing it on your clit. Your legs started twitching, before he spit on your stride, making more of a mess out of you. His tongue went inside of you, taking all of your slick. His hands held your legs, putting them on his shoulders, as he started to roughly eat your pussy,

His mouth and your arousal made a mess out of each other, Connie wanting everything you’ve got. You on the other hand was a moaning mess, holding the pillows as your pussy rutted in his face. Connie’s head game was next level, he knew exactly how to use his tongue. His tongue went deeper until it was the spot he knew you were sensitive at.

“Connie, I’m gonna cum, keep going.” You gasped. He pressed the vibrator harder as his tongue kept hitting your g-spot. Your legs shaked as you basically screamed his name. Your tits jiggled and your back arched. His name echoed as you sputtered a bunch of curses and pants. Once you calmed down, Connie put down the vibrator, taking his sweats off.

“You wanted my attention, you’ve got it.” Connie told you,

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 month

Text

The Plan [Marcus Pike x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Rating: Explicit

Fandom: The Mentalist

Pairing: Marcus Pike x you/cishet f!reader. Reader is fat/overweight but this is never explicitly mentioned. Also, reader is a lawyer. (I know nothing about lawyering.)

Tags/Warnings: Sad Marcus, alcohol mention, one night stands, fellatio mention, neighbours with benefits, safe sex, squirting, cunnilingus, reader has a difficult relationship with her family, mad dash through the airport at Christmas, trauma dumping (Marcus coming clean about his disappointment after Lisbon dumped him).

Summary: A drunken one night stand with your cute new neighbour Marcus Pike eventually leads to more. Takes place after his story arc in the show.

Words: 7,895

A/N: My first Marcus Pike fic, and also I finished a goddamn fic! There is so much cause for celebration here, folks. Remember to comment and reblog: sharing is caring.

Shout-out to @missredherring and @pazizz who read drafts and helped me forward with this story <3

Marcus Pike does not have a bitter disposition. He does not sulk, or harbor resentment. It's just not in his nature.

Until now.

There is just something so unforgivable, incomprehensible, wrong about the way Teresa Lisbon left him. She called him to say she was coming to D.C., that she would marry him, and two hours later she called again to inform him that she wasn't. That she was in love with Patrick Jane. That asshole.

Marcus has been divorced, and not even that made him spiral as hard as the breakup from Teresa. It just hit harder, because he had fallen so hard for her, for the way she dipped her gaze and chin when a smile broke out on her lips, before looking back up at him with those pretty eyes of hers. He fell for her sense of humor, her intelligence, the way it was so easy to be with her. And he really thought that she fell for him in the same way. Maybe she did - but Jane was there, in the background, confusing her, wooing her with one last big, desperate gesture. If Marcus had known that all it took to keep Teresa was to get himself arrested, he would've done that instead of bringing her takeout at work, making her morning coffee just as she liked it, loaning her his jacket when she was cold during that date, all the thousands of little things that he did for her, that he loved doing for her because he loved her so much that doing those things weren't a chore, they weren't planned, they were an honest, spontaneous expression of his feelings for her.

And then, one big, desperate gesture that rendered Marcus's all small, everyday gestures moot. And it pisses him off.

Practicality kicked in as a form of survival. He quickly cancelled the purchase of the house he had Teresa had picked out, found a condo instead, moved in with his things, and threw himself into his work. Most of the boxes were left unpacked. His place didn't feel like a home because he couldn't let it. He was supposed to share one with Teresa, and now there was just him, surrounded by moving boxes that he had to deal with but couldn't, wouldn't. What should've been a house for the two of them - maybe more in the future? - with a little garden, walls impregnated with love and excitement for a life together, sunlight through the window during long weekend mornings of slow breakfasts, putting up Christmas decorations together, all those things that he was looking forward to. Now he has a bachelor pad, in a fancy apartment building with a doorman, but a sad bachelor pad all the same. The furniture is more or less where it should be, but he hasn't bothered to plan that much. The kitchen table is too big, but he's not in any condition to sell it off and buy a new one. The bookcases are half full, and his artwork is still unhung. He really tried there, but the first painting he got his hands on was one that he had seen before him in the spacious yet cozy living-room in That House, with the fireplace, and suddenly no wall in his apartment was good enough. So he put the painting away, and the rest were left packed down.

He even started going out after work, when he couldn't stay any longer but didn't want to go home. He found a watering hole to his liking, and became a regular, nursing one whiskey after another until he could go home and fall into bed for a deep, dreamless sleep.

It's after one of those nights that he finds you, his neighbor, trying to open his front door with your key. Your clumsy yet meticulous movements tell him that you're intoxicated, and there is something endearing about the way you're frowning, the tip of your tongue sticking out the side of your mouth as you focus on sticking in the key that doesn't fit.

When Marcus comes closer, you notice him, and look up. Quickly registering that it's the workaholic neighbor that you rarely see, you just nod, and go back to trying to open the door.

"That's my door," he says, and you look up again.

"What's that?"

"That's my door. You're trying to get into my apartment."

You frown, your hand holding the key falling to your side as you process his words. You then squint at the number of the door, taking a few seconds to realize that this is, indeed, not your front door.

"Oops," you mutter, then grimace apologetically at your neighbor. "Well, this isn't embarrassing at all."

"Don't worry about it," he shrugs, fishing his own key from his pocket. You step to the side to give him access to the door, and when he stands right next to you, you can smell his cologne, sophisticated and with a hint of bergamot.

He eyes you, just as drunk as you are.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, sure. Late night. You?"

"Same." He looks so tired when he says it, but you can tell that there is a dimple aching to appear in his cheek. His face, bleary though it is, is handsome, and looks like it was made for smiling.

"What is it you do again?" you ask. You've exchanged pleasantries with him when he first moved in, but you never had the time or mental capacity to actually remember who he is.

"FBI, I investigate art theft."

"Ah, right." Yeah, that's it, something so unusual and random that one couldn't make it up. Then again, D.C. is full of people who do stuff you only hear about in movies.

"Marcus," he offers his hand, and you take it, and give him your name.

"And what is it that you do?"

"Law. I work with government contracts and related investigations at a law firm here in D.C."

"Sounds complicated."

You shrug. "I'm smart enough."

"You look good, too."

You scoff. "Are you coming on to me?"

"I'm trying." Now the smile breaks through, lighting up his whole face. Gods, but he's cute.

"Okay." You make the decision quickly, nodding at his door. "Looks like I picked the right door, after all."

Marcus unlocks the door and opens it for you.

His head is pounding, and his mouth is dry when he wakes up. For a moment, he doesn't know what day it is, what he's supposed to do, or what happened last night, but then the flashbacks start to put things together. The flirty neighbor. Her naked skin. Her alcohol-fuming kisses.

He turns his head and sees you, still asleep next to him. Oh, okay.

Sitting up slowly, he gets his bearings before swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Clothes are strewn over the floor. Right next to the bed is a used condom, tied up and looking sad and abandoned. Okay, good, at least he remembered to use protection. He picks it up and takes it to the bathroom, where he disposes of it before washing his hands and face.

He hears the rustle of bedsheets, and returns to the bedroom, realizing that he's naked. You might not want to be greeted by a naked stranger first thing. Looking around for his underwear, he's nevertheless too slow in finding them: you're already sitting up and rubbing your forehead.

He clears his throat. "Good morning."

Your smile is a little lopsided. "Morning."

"You want breakfast?" Marcus immediately offers, wanting to do the gentlemanly thing before he sends you off so that he can take about ten aspirins, and go to work. "And I'll put out a clean towel for you so that you can use the shower."

"Appreciate it, but I live right next door," you point out as you get out of bed. You're as naked as he is, and Marcus tries very hard not to ogle your body for what he suspects will be the last time.

"I don't mind."

"Thanks, but I have to get to work." You pick up and put on your panties, bra, skirt, shirt. Marcus spots his boxer briefs, and pulls them on.

"Okay, well... I had a good time."

"I did too."

Now you're standing right in front of him, buttoning up your silk shirt. Even with your makeup smudged out, and terrible morning breath, you look really nice.

"I gotta ask you something, though, because my memory is a little... hazy." Your cheekbones seem to glow, and he realizes that you're blushing.

"Yeah?"

"I sucked your dick, didn't I?"

Marcus feels the heat rise to his ears. "Um... well... yes, you did."

"Well?"

"What?"

"Did I do it well?"

"I think so."

You grin at him. "You don't remember much either, do you?"

"It was all consensual, if that's what you're asking."

"Oh, I have no doubt about that." You surprise him by placing your hand on his naked chest. His heart skips a beat, and he hopes that you won't notice.

"I really have to go, but maybe I'll see you again soon?" you ask softly, and Marcus finds himself relaxing.

"I'd like that."

You even kiss him good-bye, a quick, closed-mouth peck to keep morning breaths from mixing, before you grab your shoes, your purse (muttering under your breath about several emails, and two missed calls), and head over next door.

Marcus, still only wearing his underwear, looks thoughtfully at the closed door for a long while before going into the kitchen with the too big table to make coffee.

Work occupies most of your waking hours, six days a week, often seven. You don't see Marcus again for weeks, don't hear any sounds from his apartment during the hours you're home and awake. Barely having time to think about him, your thoughts nevertheless stray to him when you're standing in the shower or going to bed at night. You haven't been able to fit a boyfriend into your life in a long time, and casual hook-ups have rarely left you satisfied, but even with your hazy memories of the night with Marcus, you left his apartment that morning with a feeling that it was good. So that's where your thoughts go when you touch yourself, the few times you have the energy to do so.

One Friday night, after a long but satisfying week that ended with a contract being accepted as it was, which meant you could have a weekend with only a couple of hours of work from home, you're hurrying home with Chinese takeout in a bag. Looking forward to a quiet night in front of the TV, with an early morning at the gym the following day, you run into Marcus on your way into your apartment building.

"Hi," you smile, immediately noticing how he seems to square his shoulders when he sees you. "Going out?"

"Yeah," he nods, moving his weight from one foot to the other as he takes in your food bag. "And you're staying in?"

"Finally, a Friday night without work," you acknowledge. Marcus's smile lets you know that he knows about that all too well.

"Enjoy."

"You too, you going somewhere nice?"

"No, I mean... I'm just going by myself."

There is something so despondent about the way he averts his eyes when confessing to going out alone. You're not in a position to start saving people, but you see an opening here.

"Join me for dinner instead, Marcus."

"I don't want to bother you."

"It's no bother," you shake your head, now moving towards the elevator while beckoning him to follow you. "Come on, before the food gets cold. There's enough here for two, I always buy extra."

He hesitates for only a split second, you can see it in how his body seems to pull him away, out to some sad bar with too much to drink. Instead, he nods, smiles softly, and follows you. He insists on bringing a bottle of wine from his place, and you accept.

You find out more about him that night, as you share your takeout with him, and he shares his wine. He tells you of heartache, only summarily, clearly not wanting you to feel sorry for him, but you can tell that he's been torn up about the "amicable" break-up. He also mentions that he's been married, and you wonder what's wrong with him. He seems perfectly nice and normal, why hasn't he been able to keep a woman? To his credit, he never complains about nice guys finishing last, only states that maybe he's meant to focus on his career.

"There's a lot to be said about having a good career," you agree. Marcus sips his wine with a small smile.

"Work doesn't break your heart."

"That, too."

"I take it you don't have a partner who'll suddenly come home to find me in his kitchen?" he jokes lightly, but you recognize the question for what it is: he wants to know if you're Seeing Anyone.

"Not one for relationships," you shrug.

"You don't long for anyone to snuggle up with in front of the TV on a Friday night?"

"I don't have time. And they never seem to understand that. Or they're working, too." You pick at the scraps in your takeout box with the chopsticks. "And I seem to attract douchebags. Dunno if it comes with the field in which I work. I always seem to go out with terrible lawyer guys."

Marcus chuckles. "Their loss."

"I miss having sex, though." You look him in the eye, and his tongue slides over his lower lip, catching some runaway sauce.

"Yeah?"

You nod, and feel your cheeks heat up. You're a no-nonsense person, but not always this forward with men. But it's easy with Marcus. He takes it all in stride, doesn't seem to think you're aggressive, or slutty, he just smiles and tells you that he misses sex too.

"But what we had was okay, though?" he adds. "Even if neither one of us seems to remember it that well."

"It was," you agree, raising the glass to your lips and draining the rest of the wine. After putting it back down, you tilt your head and bite your lower lip.

"You wanna do it again? Now that we're sober and all?"

"I'm a little tipsy," he warns you with a chuckle, "But I'm in."

Both of you get up at the same time, chairs scraping the floor simultaneously in the kitchen that mirrors his own but has a table that fits it. All of your apartment just fits in a way his half-assed dwelling doesn't. He realizes that it's because your apartment is a home, decorated and lived-in, warm colors and fabrics, Scandinavian wallpapers in bold but tasteful patterns that he himself would never consider but that feel right here.

You step up to him, snugly fitting yourself to his frame, and place your hands on his narrow hips as you kiss him. The two glasses of wine that you've had have laid a warm, cozy blanket over your busy mind, and now you're fully focused on Marcus, whose soft, plump lips are meeting yours as his arms go around your waist.

You make your way to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes as you kiss and get undressed, get undressed and kiss. The bed in unmade, you just threw the covers to the side when you got up this morning. Wearing only your underwear, you lay down, pull Marcus over you, rake your fingers through his hair, moan when he palms your plump tits through the bra.

"Tell me what you like," he asks you hoarsely. You hum when he scatters kisses along the lace trim of your bra.

"That's a good start."

He hums back as he pops your tits out of your bra and lick around the nipples.

"Go on," he asks, and a shiver runs down your spine at the low barytone of his voice. You reach around to unhook your bra, and Marcus takes it off you and flings it to the side before burying his face between your breasts.

"You eat pussy?" you ask him breathlessly, and he looks up at you.

"Of course."

"Not everybody does," you wink, and he shakes his head.

"Their loss."

He's in a hurry, you note, but it's endearing in an unexpected way. When he pulls down your panties and gets settled, your legs over his shoulders, you remember to give him a warning.

"I, uh, I don't orgasm from oral, just so you know."

"Really?" His breath is hot against your folds, but he's looking up at you with attentive eyes.

"Yeah. It's not a comment on your skills, I just need you to know it," you shrug, accustomed to always having to tread carefully around the matter. Too many men get offended or take it as a challenge.

"Thanks for telling me," Marcus smiles in a way that's way too innocent and adorable for a man who's got his face inches away from your pussy. "But do you really want me to...?"

"Oh God, yes!" you reassure him. "I enjoy it a lot, and it gets me wet. I just can't cum, I need vaginal stimulation for that."

"You got it," he pats your thigh lightly before his tongue connects with your folds, and your eyes fall shut as you hand yourself over to the pleasure, to Marcus's deftly dancing tongue. He's good, he's attentive and eager, yet you don't get the feeling that he's trying to prove you wrong, to make you orgasm. Lord knows men have tries that in the past, and it's just stressful. No, he just seems to enjoy your moans, the way you writhe and grab his hands, the twitches of your pelvis when he does something extraordinary.

"Goddddd, Marcus, that's so fucking good..." you wail when he alternates between sucking your clit and licking it with a quick tongue. He's getting louder, sloppier, and you know you're dripping. Your clit is throbbing, and you know this is the perfect time to speed things up. You push him away, your thighs closing around his head, and Marcus retreats, chin glistening as he licks his lips.

"You okay?" he wants to know. You nod, breathless and with a pounding heart.

"Need to fuck you."

He scrambles up for a deep kiss, wet and lewd, before you push him over to get a condom from your nightstand. He drapes himself over you as you stretch across the bed, and peppers your back with kisses, like he's unable to stay away from you. You roll around, finding yourself caged between his strong arms, and you pull him down for more kissing with lips swollen and dry but still wanting more.

"How do you want me?" he gasps between the kisses as you pull down his underwear and paw at his small butt.

"Can I be on top?"

He rolls over onto his back immediately, watching you with open-mouth excitement when you remove his shorts and put on the rubber. When you finally sink down on his length, his fingers dig into your thighs as his breath hitches.

"Oh, that feels good..."

"Uh-huh," you sigh, staying still for a moment to adjust to his cock inside of you. You smile inwardly as you find yourself thinking about just how perfectly sized it is: thick but not too long.

"What?"

Your eyes open to find Marcus grinning at you.

"What what?" you grin back. He caresses your hips slowly.

"You looked like you had something to say."

"I was just thinking about what a perfect, gorgeous dick you have."

His cheeks turn pink. "Thank you. It came with the body."

You chuckle and start a slow grind, hips moving lazily back and forth as you seek out the right spots, the right rhythm. Finding it, you plant your hands on Marcus's chest and let out a low moan as you go slightly faster.

"That right for you?" he huffs, sitting up to catch a nipple in his mouth.

"Mmmfuckyes..."

You drop your hand to where your bodies meet, fingers seeking out your clit. Pleasure zaps through your body when you rub it, and you clench tightly around Marcus, causing him to dig his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips, both of you groaning.

"So good," he gripes, soothing the sting of his fingertips by rubbing his palms over the affected areas before he moves his fingers to your front. "Need a hand?"

"'m good," you gasp, your free arm slinging around his neck. You clench around him again, and Marcus's hips jut upwards, slamming into you with a force that makes you choke.

"Fuck! God, Marcus, that was..."

"Can we try something?" he pants, pulling you in for a kiss. "Please?"

"Okay?" you frown, a little frustrated at being interrupted, but Marcus gestures for you to rise, so you do as he asks, and let him pull you down with him.

"Get on top of me again, but lie down," he instructs you. You must look doubtful because he immediately adds:

"Just try it, if you don't like it, we can go back to what you were doing."

"I'll try anything once," you shrug, and get on top of him again, this time with your back turned to him. Marcus pulls you down, positioning you on top of him, legs spread, his own legs on the outside of yours. You hesitate for a second, the reality of your weight sometimes haunting your mind, but Marcus insists.

"Just come here, baby," he tells you softly, so you let him take your weight. One of his arms sneaks up the side of your ribcage to cup a breast. With the other, he guides himself into you, pushing himself in with an upward thrust of his hips. You choke on your breath and let your head hang back on his shoulder, one arm seeking a position to support you, the other coming around Marcus's neck when he presses a toothy kiss to your neck. He thrusts into you again, fingers playing with your nipple, and then his other hand comes to rub your clit.

You keen at the sudden intensity, back arching on top of him, and he plants his feet more firmly on the mattress.

"Fuck," you gasp, "that's good, Marcus, this is good..."

He sucks a kiss to your neck, his teeth stinging just a little, and your legs kick in search of a hold so that you can stay just above him. He slips out, and you whimper.

"Relax," he soothes you, thumb abandoning your clit to instead guide himself back into you. "Put your weight on me, I can take it."

You follow his instructions, back sinking down onto his chest and stomach, pelvis angling slightly to help him stay inside you. His fingers return to tease your clit, and your head falls back onto his shoulder as he settles into a rhythm that makes your toes curl.

"That's it," he praises you, his breath hot against your ear. "Just like that, take it, just enjoy it, let me take care of you."

The slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is maddening in how it pushes at your spot but leaves you wanting more. You buck your hips down eagerly.

"Faster, please, Marcus."

He obeys immediately, moaning at how you immediately clench around him. Your fingers thread through his hair, the other hand fists into the sheets. The pressure on that one spot inside you is growing in intensity, insanely, perfectly, knocking your breath out with each jab of Marcus's cock against it. Your moans become whimpers, a moan too complex a sound for you at this point, when you are so close, so utterly close to the climax that you now need as much as you need air -

The release floods your body and your cunt, and for a split second you're horrified at the wet feeling on your thighs, the rippling sound, until you realize that you squirted. A half moan, half giggle escapes you as you press your thighs together as if to lock in the orgasm that pulsates through your cunt and lower belly. Marcus gasps an excited Fuck, yes before bucking up a couple of errant times, and then relaxing down. He kisses your temple, drags his soaked fingers up over your soft belly, making you squirm.

"Sorry," he murmurs throatily. You murmur something back and slide down next to him. Everything between your legs seems wet and now cold, but you're still prickling all over with excitement.

Marcus heaves a deep sigh before turning his face to you. "That was so hot."

"I didn't know I could do that with a man."

"You haven't before?"

You shake your head. Marcus smiles softly.

"I'm honored. Was it good?"

"Yeah. How about you?"

"So fucking good."

You smile back at him before turning your face back towards the ceiling, and taking a deep breath that you sigh out audibly. Your body relaxes quickly, a muscle in your lower back mutters about the position you just were in, but you feel extremely good, and wrung out in a fantastic way. In the corner of your eye, you catch Marcus taking the condom off, before getting up to take it to the trash. When he returns, he looks around, looking for his clothes. You roll over onto your side.

"You don't have to leave, you know," you tell him quietly. Marcus stops, boxers in hand.

"Yeah?"

"I mean... don't get me wrong, I'm not looking for a relationship," you hurry to assure him. "But I wouldn't mind you staying over. Unless you have plans?"

"I don't."

He drops the boxers, and slides back into bed, next to you. You smile a little wryly.

"The sheets are wet. I'll change them, feel free to grab a shower.

"Soon," Marcus tells you, low voice heavy with a calm confidence. "I suggest we wet them a little more first."

Your deal with Marcus is simple and beautiful: sex, with or without staying the night. The occasional take-out dinner. Quickies when you run into each other in the corridor outside your front doors, with ten minutes to spare. It's undemanding, friendly, mutually satisfying. Uncomplicated, with no romantic feelings involved, so nobody can get hurt.

Marcus is an active lover who smoothly takes charge. Not bossy, but firm and empathic, and not afraid of using aids of different kinds to raise your orgasms to the next level. He's not opposed to fucking you fully clothed in the morning and leaving you wanting as you go to work with his cold cum in your panties, shot there after he removed the rubber after fucking you.

It is, in short, the perfect set-up.

Fall passes by, and you see yourself forced to fly out to see your family over Thanksgiving. You spend as much time as you can working in your childhood room, however. Your parents do not understand your choice of profession, your mother does not see how a woman of your age has chosen to be childless. Your older brother knocked his girlfriend up at sixteen, your younger sister was married at eighteen and divorced at twenty-eight. You love them, but you don't have a lot in common with them, and even if your siblings at least pretend to understand your life choices, their contempt steeped in jealousy of your life shines through at times. Your parents choose to simply ignore the life you have built for yourself in D.C., talking instead about Mrs. McCall next door, Annie down the street, Cybil in town, Kearney at the gas station, as if you knew any of them or cared about what they said about Kayleigh's twins.

You endure for two nights, and text Marcus from the airport, before boarding: I'll be home after nine tonight. You free?

He replies almost immediately: I'll pick you up at the airport.

You text him the flight number before turning off your phone, settling for a three-hour nap in lieu of working.

When you finally land, puffy-faced but breathing freely now that you're back in the city you call home, Marcus is waiting for you in arrivals. The way his smile lights up his eyes when he sees you makes your heart miss a beat. There is something there that's beyond what the two of you have, something much more sincere.

You shake it off and smile back as you walk up to him. He leans forward, like he's about to kiss you, but ends up giving you an awkward half-hug.

"Welcome home."

"Thanks. And thank you for picking me up."

"My pleasure."

The two of you turn and start walking towards the exit. Marcus offers to take your carry-on wheelie bag, but you decline, accustomed as you are to carrying your own luggage yourself.

In the car, he asks you how your Thanksgiving was.

"As holidays at my parents' usually are. One night would've been enough."

"That bad, huh?"

"Yeah. It's just..." You rub your forehead. "Whenever I visit, I feel trapped. Everything back home is... small. People are kind, yes, but they're small-minded. The town is small. The spaces in which to move, physically and mentally, are small. And I feel like some kind of big city snob who comes to visit twice a year, scoffs at their very ordinary and, as far as I know, happy lives, and then flies back to my vegan frappuccinos and twenty-four-hour sushi restaurants."

Marcus chuckles low. "I think I know what you mean. But it's hard for me to imagine that you'd be a snob about anything."

"I probably am. But I... I don't know, I outgrew that town when I was fifteen. Couldn't get out fast enough. And I don't like going back."

"Does your family support your choices?"

You shrug. "Yes and no. Mom and dad are proud, I guess, but at the same time they don't have any idea what it is that I do. 'If you wanted to be a lawyer, couldn't you be one here? Where it's not as stressful and you could start a family, and work normal hours?' As if I could practice the law I'm interested in over there."

"What's the most common type of lawyer in your hometown?"

"General practitioners who do a little bit of everything, wills mostly. And there are three, I think."

"Wow."

"Exactly."

The conversation turns to other subjects as Marcus drives the two of you to your apartment building. As he parks in his spot in the underground garage, you place your hand onto his thigh. He turns off the engine and looks at you.

"Thanks for picking me up," you tell him quietly. His hand comes to rest on top of yours.

"No problem."

"You have any plans for tonight?"

He shakes his head, then leans forward over the middle console as you reach across the same for a kiss. His fingers thread into your hair before closing around the back of your head to bring you in, and you sigh softly against his lips as you feel the rest of the pressure from your Thanksgiving visit melt away. If the town you grew up in felt unfamiliar and uncomfortable, D.C. and Marcus feel like home. And there's nothing you want to do more now than be with Marcus in this city.

You break the kiss and lower your gaze to his fly, where your fingers are already working on unzipping him. Marcus exhales in an audible sigh.

"You missed me that much?"

"Don't get any ideas," you warn him before bowing down over his lap.

Later, when you are freshly showered, and lying awake in Marcus's bed with him deeply asleep next to you, you wonder when his presence at night became such a comfort for you.

Marcus visits his parents over Christmas. You manage to convince yours that you're way too busy and the holidays too short for you to fly out. Settling in for a couple of days off work, you plan to go to the gym, meet friends, and maybe finally get through that book you started three months ago. You plan for simple yet delicious meals and come home with bags full of groceries and bottles of wine that you balance in your arms as you're digging for the keys in your pocket.

"Lemme get that."

Marcus appears by your side, taking a grocery bag from you.

"Thanks."

You manage to let yourself in, and Marcus follows you to the kitchen, where he leaves the bag on the table.

"Hi," he smiles. There is something so endearing about this man, his smile lights up the whole room, you can't possibly keep from smiling back at him.

"Hi. I thought you already left for the airport?"

"Just on my way now. Glad I caught you."

"Oh?" You unbutton your coat, unwrap the scarf from around your neck. "What's up?"

"Just... I wanted to see you before I left. Wish you happy holidays."

"Right." You take off your coat and leave it over the back of a kitchen chair. "Well... happy holidays, Marcus. I hope you have a nice weekend with your parents."

"Thanks." He clears his throat, looks down and scratches the back of his head. "Do you have any plans for New Year’s Eve?"

"Not that I know of."

"Do you maybe... want to do something?"

"Sure," you nod, a warmth spreading in your belly. "Like, dinner?"

"I was thinking Hirschhorn? You said you were curious about their special exhibit. Then dinner, and maybe a movie, if you're not opposed to spending so much time with me at once?"

You feel your cheeks heat up a little. "I don't mind at all. That sounds lovely."

His smile widens, his warm eyes glitter. "Great. I'll get back to you as soon as I return."

He kisses your cheek before leaving, his hand resting momentarily on your arm. When he closes the door behind him, the apartment feels empty.

That emptiness stays with you over the holidays. You're enjoying the time off, yes, and downright cherish not having to spend time with your family. You were looking forward to Christmas eve drinks with a couple of friends but are disappointed when they only talk about holiday preparations, gift shopping, and visiting in-laws. The detachment makes you annoyed. It's not that you want that kind of life, you don't want kids and a house and Thanksgiving dinners and all of that. But there doesn't seem to be any alternatives. You get the feeling that they feel sorry for you, that they think you should look up from your laptop once in a while, go dating, settle down, maybe work less.

Always work less. You love your job so much, maybe you won’t forever, but right now you do, and it doesn’t feel taxing when it gives you the gratification it does.

You grab a cab home, earlier than you thought and morose for not getting the carefree night you had planned for. Maybe it's your own fault for thinking that people with families wouldn't have changed.

You weigh your phone in your hand for a couple of blocks before texting Marcus.

Hope you're having a better time than I am. Just getting home after drinks, and realized I have nothing in common with my friends anymore :/

You regret the text as soon as you've sent it. It sounds whiny, and you know that you're being unfair to your friends. But Marcus replies almost immediately:

Sorry to hear that. Wish I was there to make you feel better.

You smile, and your heart skips a beat. He always knows what to say.

It is what it is. Early night for me.

He replies with a Santa emoji that makes you chuckle.

Too old for Santa, you type back. Or too naughty. Either way, he's not coming.

Only man who should come in your apartment is me ;)

You stare at the message, cheeks heating as you lick your lips. Your brain scrambles for an answer to match his tone.

I'll be the judge of that, mister. If you're away for too long, I might get lonely.

The reply comes almost immediately.

I'll be back before you know it.

Your heart is fluttering like a butterfly inside your ribcage, and you react with a thumb up to the last message. For the rest of the cab ride, you're chewing on your lower lip while looking out the window, decorated windows racing past you as the cab driver navigates towards your apartment building.

You fall asleep in front of the TV and are awakened by a text.

You up?

You rub your eyes, realize that you're still wearing makeup, and curse low.

It's two am.

Marcus's name immediately lights up on the phone, and you answer the call.

"What's up?"

"Sorry to wake you."

"That's fine, I was on the couch. Gotta schlep my ass to bed," you yawn as you turn off the TV, and stand up, scratching your head.

"I'm outside."

"What?"

"I'm outside your door."

You frown, trying to understand what he's saying. "What are you doing there?"

"Just open?"

Call still active and phone held to your ear, you walk over to the front door, and unlock it. And there Marcus is, holding his phone but lowering his hand and ending the call while smiling wryly at you.

"Hi."

"What... why aren't you at your parents'?" you stutter, still holding the phone like you're talking to him through it.

"Because I can't do this at my parents'." He steps up to you, cups your cheek, and brings his lips to yours. His face is cold, so you understand that he has just arrived from the airport. Your sleep-riddled brain still doesn't understand, and Marcus breaks the kiss, breathing softly against your lips before drawing back.

"Did I... fuck this up now?"

You lick your lips and realize that you're feeling calm and steady in a way you no longer do when he's not around. You grab him by the jacket lapel and pull him in through the door.

"No," you reply, a shiver running through you when he puts his arms around you. "No, you did just the right thing."

You don't use your tub as often as you would like to, yet it was one of the main reasons why you bought your apartment. It's spacious, has gorgeous vintage style brass faucets, and is placed by the window, from which you can see the park, now wearing a white winter coat of snow, on the other side of the street. The shower booth is at the back wall of the bathroom and your busy lifestyle has you favoring quick showers instead of long, luxurious baths.

Now, however, you're stretched out languidly in Marcus's arms, the back of your head on his shoulder, his hairy thighs pressing up against you on either side. The water is hot and scented with oils, and if the orgasms you had before getting out of bed hadn't relaxed you, this would definitely take away the last vestiges of stress knotting your muscles.

"This is a really nice tub," Marcus mumbles into your ear, his hand running up the inside of your arm, resting on the edge of the tub. "Wish I had one."

"You're welcome to use mine," you smile, just as his hand disappears into the water, finding your breast and cupping it, thumb lazily stroking the nipple.

"I like your apartment better anyway," he admits. "Mine doesn't feel like a home."

"That's just because you haven't unpacked."

He raises his shoulders in a shrug. "Been busy."

"Doesn't help much that you're fucking me every time you're off work."

“One could even say it’s your fault I haven’t unpacked,” he muses, lips touching your temple. You shake your head, hand finding his and leading it away from your breast.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to pin this on me.” There is no vehemence in your voice, and even if Marcus can’t see your face, he can plainly hear the smile threatening to break out.

“I had to try.”

You bring your hand back to your chest, and sigh when his fingers brush over your nipple. It would be so easy to just let things slide, enjoy his hands, his mouth, his cock that’s resting softly against your lower back… But your interest is piqued.

“Why haven’t you unpacked, Marcus?” you ask quietly. “I’ve seen that you have painting just waiting to be hung on the walls and given how much you like to criticize my dentist’s office artwork from Ikea, I can’t imagine why you haven’t done more to decorate your apartment.”

His hand stills, and you feel him swallow. He clears his throat, sighs, clearly stalling, but you don’t show mercy. You want to know.

“I guess… I thought I’d be making a home with someone. And when that didn’t happen, I didn’t like the idea anymore.”

You braid your fingers with his, the water gently rippling with your movement.

“Your ex?”

“Yeah. Teresa.”

“What happened?” He’s mentioned some tragic breakup but never specified, and you’ve never asked. Now, however, you’re asking. You want this puzzle piece to fit right, want to know everything there is to know about Marcus Pike.

“I don’t want to burden you with that…”

“I want to know, Marcus.”

He hesitates, but eventually tells you how his ex, a smart, beautiful woman that he fell head over heels for and eventually proposed to, accepted his proposal over the phone but called again thirty minutes later to tell him that she was leaving him for a coworker. Marcus had been transferred to D.C., had asked Teresa to come with, had a plan for a life together, and she turned out to be in love with a coworker: a charming, unreliable man who worked out an elaborate scheme to make her choose him instead of Marcus.

You’re shocked to silence when he stops talking, an array of emotions simmering inside you. When Marcus speaks your name, the first one to burst is anger.

“What a cunt!”

Marcus sputters your name, but you don’t feel bad.

“You know I’m right!”

“No need for language like that,” he protests, but you can sense a change in him. It’s like something’s loosened in him. Even if you can’t see his face in this position, you can feel it in how his body feels against yours.

“I’m sorry, but that behavior is despicable. And from what you’ve told me about that asshole that she went with because of you, I’d say they deserve each other.”

He shrugs. “Or maybe I was too pushy. We didn’t date for long before I asked her to marry me. I should’ve given her more time.”

You turn around in his arms so that you can meet his flickering gaze. Raising your hand to his cheek, you caress the slightly scratchy surface that sorely needs a razor.

“If it feels right, it feels right,” you tell him softly. “There’s no shame in being open and honest about your feelings, Marcus.”

He blinks, and for a second you think his eyes look shiny. His lower jaw moves as he swallows.

“Thank you,” he eventually mumbles. “I don’t want to sound like I’m making excuses but… I did feel I was being straight with her. And she… really fucking hurt me.”

“Yeah, she did.”

His stare is suddenly relentless.

“Will you? Hurt me, I mean?”

You feel nothing but calm. “Marcus, I like you a lot. This is more than just sex now. But I won’t marry you in six months, and I don’t need you to have a plan for us. I like my job, I have a good career that I won’t give up. I don’t want kids, but I like being with you, and I want to keep being with you, not just have sex but do other stuff with you.”

He smiles at that and casts his eyes down. You lean forward to press a small kiss to his lips.

“And I will help you to unpack your shit, and I will come with you to get a new kitchen table tomorrow when the stores open. Because that huge monster you have jamming up your kitchen has got to go.”

“Not tomorrow,” he immediately tells you, and you quirk an eyebrow. “Because tomorrow I’m taking you to the museum, out for a meal, and then we’re watching Casablanca.”

You chuckle. “It’s a deal.”

He pulls you in for a deeper kiss, water splashing when his arms go around you.

“For the record,” he murmurs against your lips, “I like you too.”

“That’s a relief,” you smile, before a gasp escapes your lips; Marcus’s hand has slid down your soft stomach to the apex of your thighs, and one finger is slowly circling your clit.

“Open your legs,” he whispers, breath almost scorching your cheek that is already warm from the water and your rising desire. You move around, legs and hips repositioning themselves so that he can cup his big hand over your sex.

“Marcus,” you breathe in a low moan, “I already came twice this morning…”

“And you’ll come a third time,” he promises as he slides a finger inside your warm heat, rolling a nipple between two fingers of his other hand. You curl your arm back and around his neck, seek his lips for more kisses, push down against his hardening cock to make him gasp into your mouth. Thumb on your clit, he adds a second finger to your pussy, fucking you slowly as you exchange moans along with your kisses. Your hips jut upwards when he hits the right spot, and then he stays on it, water splashing over the edges of the tub when he goes increases speed. Your hand dives underneath the surface to find his cock, and a strangled moan travels from Marcus’s mouth to yours when your fingers close around the stiff length. When he slows down, so do you, when he fucks you faster, your hand works him faster.

The climax reaches both of you at the same time, your bodies tightening up, Marcus’s hips jerking up as your thighs clamp shut, cries bouncing off the tiles as you press your bodies together. As silence falls, the water stills and your hearts return to their normal rhythms, and Marcus’s lips are on your temple.

“Fuck, you’re amazing.”

“So are you,” you hum, a ripple of lingering pleasure making your legs twitch. He kisses you again, a light smattering of kisses over your temple, brow, cheekbone, before reaching your mouth. That last kiss is deep and slow, loving, and intimate in a way you haven’t had with him before. It’s unnerving, almost scary, but there is something so comforting about Marcus’s broad-shouldered body underneath you, something that makes you embrace the unknown.

“Happy Christmas, baby.”

The underwhelming meeting with your friends, the flirty texting with Marcus, that feels like weeks ago. But it was only last night, and your world has been thoroughly rocked since then.

“Happy Christmas, Marcus.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike fanfic #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike x you #my fic

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kingofbodyrolls · 7 months

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BTS fic recs: September 2023

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | 💜 (jjk)(knj) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, personal favorites = 💯.

Namjoon

⭐The Interpretation of Dreams 💯 by @ppersonna // knj x f.reader // phd mentor!namjoon, university!au // 🥵🥰

📝 He’s the man of your dreams, the an you’ve spent over 6 years pining over. and he’s also your Ph.D. mentor and in charge of your very future.

🗨️ Looking for a smutty, slutty, funny and comforting fic? Well, look no further! 🌟 This really delivered 👏🏾 really, really good. The sexual tension between reader and Namjoon 💯 and then best friend Jimin, being the best chaotic slutty wingman EVER 🥵

⭐Deep End by @here2bbtstrash // knj x f.reader // established relationship, period!smut // 🥵🥰

📝 Your boyfriend suggests a new way to relieve your period cramps.

🗨️ Awww, this was so cute and sweet 🥺💖💯

⭐Baby Fever by @95rkives // knj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥰🥰🥰

📝 What was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.

🗨️ Gosh this was cute - and wonderfully fluffy 😍

⭐All Night 💯 by @luaspersona // knj x f.reader // college!au, brother’s best friend!au, s2l // 🥵

📝 When your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company.

🗨️ This was the most perfect, pure masterpiece of fucking gold writing 🤌🏾🥵 it is insanely filthy, so deliciously smutty!! Like I think my soul has left my body 🥵 the writing, story and the characters were brilliant ✨ this is hands down one of my new favorites and I WILL read this again soon, I promise you! Don’t sleep on this sweet bad boy Namjoon, okay 🥵 such an easy recommendation for me to make - do yourself a favor and read it if you haven’t (and if you have, then read it again!) ♥️💯

⭐Love Language 💯 by @rmnamjoons // knj x f.reader // soulmate!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Exactly one year before one meets their soulmate, their love’s first words spoken to them appear as a tattoo on their wrist. When Namjoon’s tattoo appears, however, it’s not of words, but of the most beautiful set of eyes he’s ever seen.

🗨️ I know that most of this was just pure smut, but damn it was cute 😭🥺💖

Yoongi

⭐Oh, darling! [series; ongoing] 💯 by @yoongiofmine // myg x f.reader // university!au, non idol au, professor!yoongi, student!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 Starting your second semester at one of South Korea’s most prestigious universities should be stressful enough. Between juggling classes, good grades and a social life, your plate was full. Hoping to spice up your academic career, you thought it was a good idea to enroll as an assistant for your literature professor, whom you’ve held a very secret and very forbidden crush on for the past several months. What will happen now that you’re forced to work closely together? And what if your crush isn’t as one sided as you thought?

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵🫣😳 I am speechless. My soul have left my body 🥵 it’s so good! ‘Kay bye 🫣 There’s only one chapter left!!!

⭐The Road Not Taken [series; ongoing] by @prodagustd // myg x f.reader // Brother’s best friend, pinning, lawyer!Yoongi x actress!reader // 🥰🌩️🥵

📝 This doesn’t have a summary, so here my take: it’s about OC’s pining for her brother’s best friend, Yoongi. Her life is quite messy, but her love for Yoongi has always stayed the same through all the years and hardship. He just doesn’t see her as anything other than his best friend’s sister (or does he???).

🗨️ I really like the back story in this so far, and damn, I feel like OC’s life is just a mangled puzzle of lies. Like she hasn’t found her thing yet, or what makes her truly happy in life 🥺 Only the first chapter is out, but it’s already good!🌸❤️

Jimin

⭐Exhaust by @jungk0oksthighs // pjm x f.reader // breakups, rebound sex - frenemies to ??? // 🥵

📝 Stuck in the middle of nowhere with a dead cell, you were overjoyed to see another car pull up to the rescue. However when the owner of that car knocked on your window, you were faced with the one person you once vowed you never wanted to see ever again. Park Jimin.

🗨️ It was too good 😭 and it says part 1 of 4 but I can’t find other parts to it 😭 gosh, it’s still good and the open ending is fine with a one shot, but damn I want more! 😂 I have questions that I want answers to, more stuff than I want to see unfold 🫣 but alas, it works fine as a standalone, and it was a good read ♥️

⭐Wait for Me 💯 by @jiminniethemarshmallow // pjm x f.reader // established relationship, pwp // 🥵

📝 This one doesn’t have a summary, but it’s about Jimin just wanting to fuck OC, but she has homework – it’s just really good pwp!

🗨️ This 🥵 OMG! If you value dirty talk, this one is definitely for you! ♥️ The smut was perfection and Jimin was just such a tease 😜💯

⭐Sleepless Night by @kwanisms // pjm x f.reader // cheating!au, work!au, coworker!Jimin // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Y/N’s first business trip was supposed to be easy. She and her co-worker, Jimin, were to deliver a presentation for a client then return to the airport to catch a flight home but no one expected a blizzard to roll in. After having their flight cancelled Christmas Eve due to the storm, Y/N and Jimin are forced to share the only remaining hotel room with one king size bed.

🗨️ I think I’ve read this before – It’s really good. Although I’m not really into cheating!aus, I found it a good read 🙂

⭐Something Sweet by @moni-logues // pjm x f.reader // established relationship, pwp, tattoo artist!Jimin // 🥵🥰

📝 You've had a frustratingly slow day at the cafe and Jimin has had a no-show. There's only one thing for it, and that's to get busy yourselves.

🗨️ This was sweet and smutty and also hilarious (something happens that I won’t spoil). It’s a good read ❤️‍🔥

⭐Worth the Wait by @noona-la-la-la // pjm x f.reader // idol!au, virgin!Jimin, soft and romantic smut // 🥵🥰

📝 You aren’t sure why your boyfriend Jimin has taken things so slowly but you are now finally ready to have your first night together.

🗨️ This was actually really sweet, how Jimin wanted the night to be special 🥹

⭐The Bucket List, Prologue by @jeonggukingdom // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 Friday nights at the club are a common routine for you and your boyfriend but when you decided to go out that night with your usual group of friends, you had no idea Mina would tipsily confess to him the existence of a sexual bucket list you both made when you were still in college. And you sure as hell did not expect for your boyfriend to propose to help you fulfil every single wish written on that old piece of paper as soon as he got his hands on it.

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵 🫣 this was so incredibly good, the smut was superb, and the promise of the the bucket list was just so enticing! The only thing I didn’t like, is that this is the only part there is 🤣 but as a discontinued series, this has brilliant potential, and it also works just fine as a one-shot (which is why I’m recommending it 😉).

Jungkook

⭐When the End Comes [series; ongoing] 💯 by @oddinary4bts // jjk x f.reader // breakup!au, slice of life!au, photographer!Jungkook x lawyer!reader // 🌩️🌩️🌩️🥵

📝 Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

🗨️ This is a sequel to ‘The Forgotten Spaces’, which was just *chef’s kiss* 😘This has a lot, and I mean A LOT more angst in it – but it is worth it! I cannot describe how much I genuinely adore this couple with all my heart, I just want them to be happy! There’s only one chapter left of the series. The sequel is heart wrenchingly beautiful, it truly is. When you read it, stock up on tissues before hand 😉💜

⭐Stretch You Out 💯 by @chateautae // jjk x knj x f.reader // college!au, s2f2l, gym employee!namjoon, gym employee!jungkook // 🥵🥰

📝 You have a plan for your crappy, diabolical ex who’s set on ruining your life; making him jealous by snagging a raunchy photo with two hot employees at the gym. what you didn’t have a plan for? befriending the mischievous pair to aid in your revenge and ending up underneath not just one, but both of them.

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵 🫣 this was so exceptionally good! So deliciously filthy, it really delivered on every freaking aspect 💯 incredible 👏🏾 perfection 👏🏾 💎

I feel like I haven’t read that much this month – which is understanding because I’ve been writing a lot. But gosh, I miss reading all of the amazing stories out there and my reading list is still hella long 😂 I am moving in the beginning of October, so I don’t know how much I’ll get to read (or write for that matter), but I hope I’ll have some time here and there 😀

Borahae 💜

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paperweight91 · 7 months

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Like I’m Gonna Lose You

Part 1

Summary: your crush on your married lawyer friend gets a little out of control…

Warnings: smut, Daddy kink, infidelity

Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader, mentions of Andy Barber x Laurie Barber

A/N: This is something inspired by the lovely @georgiapeach30513 ! If it wasn’t for her AMAZING fic Desperate Affairs I’m not sure this would exist.

If you would like to read more I am hoping to post the next part soon.

Autumn set in early this year, much earlier then you ever remembered it setting in before. Only the first week of September and you were already wearing your fall jacket to work. You always loved fall, but wish that summer could last just a little longer.

You locked up your apartment as you set out for work, earlier than usual so you could stop and get a nice warm coffee, heck maybe you’d even spring for one of the seasonal drinks since it was pay week.

As you walked into the little cafe and joined the line, which was already so long despite the early hour, you spotted him. ADA Andy Barber. The man you had secretly crushed on for months. It was embarrassing at this point. Mostly because he’s married. It was so hard though, he was always so kind and attentive. In those moments it was easy to forget why you shouldn’t be crushing on him.

“Hey!” Andy smiled at you, and your heart jumped into your throat. Why did he have to have such a nice smile? “I didn’t know you came here. It’s been a while.”

Yeah because I’m avoiding you.

“I don’t usually,” you tried to smile but it probably came out more like a grimace. “With how cool it’s been I wanted a warm treat and no better time than pay week.” Ugh, why? Why were you so awkward?

Andy made small talk as you both progressed through the line. It was wonderful, and so horrible at the same time. Once you placed your order, he quickly sidled up beside to place his own and pay for both.

“Andy! You don’t have to do that!” You look up at him pleadingly.

“My treat.” He says, and he has his courtroom voice on. “Maybe this means I’ll see you here again since you didn’t have to splurge today.” He winks at you.

He WINKED! That has to mean something. God you wish you were better at this.

“Thank you Andy. I really appreciate it.” You smile shyly. “Maybe I’ll come back tomorrow since it’s my day off and I can actually sit and enjoy a coffee for once.” You laugh at your own joke.

“I’ll be here same time, I’ll even save us a table.” Andy says as he reaches for both your cups from the barista saying a quick thanks.

“It’s a date!” You smack you forehead. What a stupid thing to say to a married man. Married, he’s married! “I uh I didn’t mean, you know date as in dating. Oh god. You know what I’m uh I have to go to work. Thanks again Andy.” Your face heats up as you speed walk to your car.

Stupid, stupid! How could you have said that out loud, to his face! He’s gonna think you’re crazy. Scratch that you are crazy. Pining after a man who’s married with a kid. Just ridiculous.

You look up hearing a tapping on your window - it’s Andy. You roll down your window, looking directly at your steering wheel, still too embarrassed to look at him, you can’t even ask him what he wants, it’s too much. He’s probably here to tell you to stay away from him.

“Hey sweetheart,” ugh the pet name is back. He always calls you this when you do something embarrassing. Usually it’s something small like tripping or dropping stuff. Nothing like proclaiming seeing him as a date.

“I’m so sorry Andy, that was so innapropriate. I should not have said that.” You speak barely above a whisper. Not even sure he heard you.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll see you tomorrow same time, okay? Just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He reaches his hand through the open window and strokes your hair back from your face.

Huh. Andy’s always been affectionate with you, maybe he’s taking pity on your by now obvious crush on him.

“Th-thanks Andy. See you tomorrow.” You put the car and gear and drive away. God that man he did something to you.

Your day at work was mostly wasted as you spent most of your time thinking of how your date with Andy would go tomorrow. Coffee, he invited you for coffee. That doesn’t mean it’s a date. It’s true lots of friends just get coffee with each other.

Finally, your work day over you sign off and say good bye to your coworkers. Getting in your car, you decide to stop at the grocery store to pick up a few things since you planned to spend all of tomorrow reliving your date with Andy. Whatever, it’s in your own head. Enjoy the moments while you have them right?

Picking up your essentials for the week on autopilot, you barely realize when your back in the car and are halfway home before your brain comes back online. Oh well, at least it wasn’t far. Although you should probably stop day dreaming about Andy while driving. That was a sure fire way to get in an accident.

You spend most of the night tossing and turning, not sure what to think about tomorrow. You finally pull yourself out of bed at 5, knowing you won’t be getting any sleep. You shower and decide to wear one of your favourite fall outfits. A brown sweater dress that has always fit you well. Putting on some light make up, you look at the time and realize you’re running later than you thought and rush out the door.

Pulling up to the cafe you see Andy through the window. As promised sitting at a table, with two cups infront of him.

You take a breath and look at him closely before you walk in. He looked good when he’s not in a suit. He also looks good in a suit, but casual - in jeans and a sweater? This is new and fantastic.

“Andy!” You say as you walk over to the table. “I thought you might be working today?” You don’t mean it to come out as a question but it does anyways.

He laughs and smiles at you. “ I have to go by the courthouse later, but wanted to see you this morning.” His eyes sparkle at you. “I got you the same as yesterday, I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s great but you didn’t have to. I thought I was paying today.” You pout at him as you sit across from him. This kinda feels like a date, right? You can pretend at least.

“I know, I know. But how could I let you pay on our date?” His smile is mischievous. Like he knows he’s doing something he shouldn’t.

Your blush reaches your toes if possible.

“Oh God. Andy I’m so sorry, I know this isn’t a date, I can’t believe I said that, to your face!” You cover your face with your hands but not for long. Andy reaches across the table, and holds your hands in his.

“Andy?” You’re confused. Very confused. And maybe reading into the situation a little too much.

“I’m sorry sweetheart. There’s no reason to be embarrassed.” His smile is so warm on his beautiful face. And you’re not sure what to say so you take a sip of coffee.

“Did you order black?” You ask him and he nods. You quickly switch the cups and sigh at the sip of your over priced pumpkin spice whatever.

From there the conversation flows for more than an hour. You’ve never been able to speak to someone like this. Not friends or ex-boyfriends. Andy is such a great listener and so passionate when he speaks. You get lost staring at him while he tells you about a case he just wrapped up.

Watching how his eyes light up when he mentions something he was clearly proud of. How his neck flexes when he recalls something seedy the defence did. He’s just beautiful.

“Hey,” he waves a hand in front of your face. “Did I lose you for a minute?”

“N-no, of course not. You were talking about how Neil’s been trying to steal this case from you?” God you hope that’s right.

He sighs, wrong. Dammit.

“Laurie finds this stuff boring too. I’m used to it. We can talk about something else if you want.” You definitely don’t want that. He seems so sad, and put out by your obvious distraction, it’s natural when you reach across the table to cup his cheek.

“I’m sorry Andy. It’s not boring I promise. I just um…” you trail off, unsure of how to say what was actually happening.

“What sweetheart? You know you can tell me.” His face is a mix of confusion and worry. And you don’t like that so you know you have to tell him.

“Well I just was watching you while you spoke, and I know it sounds creepy. But Andy you’re so passionate and it shows throughout you. I really admire that about you.” There that wasn’t terrible. He won’t think the wrong thing, right?

The smile that spreads across his face makes your insides jump around. Beautiful.

“Thank you sweetheart. You want to get out of here?�� Wait what? Isn’t that what the creepy dude you met at the bar asked you? It must have shown on your face because he quickly added, “I’d like to spend some more time with you, but I’m not gonna lie. These chairs? They’re killing my back.” He laughed.

You laughed too. “Would you want to come back to my apartment? I could make us a bite to eat?”

“That sounds great sweetheart. Text me your address, I’ll meet you there.”

You text him your address and start to gather your things. He walks you to your car with his hand on the small of your back the whole time. It’s not weird, friends do this. Right?

You race back to your apartment to do a quick tidy before Andy shows up. Just when you begin to think he isn’t showing up, there’s a knock at your door.

“Sorry! Couldn’t find parking” he must have parked pretty far away. You see the slight sheen of sweat on his brow.

“That’s alright, please come in. And excuse the mess I was planning to clean when I got back.”

His eyes take in your apartment and you squirm like he’s inspecting you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask. His silence is making you nervous, and you shuffle your feet.

“Oh sweetheart no, nothings wrong. Your place is wonderful. I was just trying to find this ‘mess’ you speak of.” He pulls you into his arms. And you giggle at his joke and the closeness. “ is this okay?” He asks wrapping one arm around your waist. The other has found it’s way to your face cupping your cheek and bringing you closer.

“Uh Andy what’s going on?” You’re nervous it’s obvious. He can’t be doing what you think he’s doing.

As leans in you can see his lips get closer before he whispers. “Please don’t tell me it’s all in my head. You want me, don’t you?”

Before you can respond he’s kissing you. Actually kissing you. And the world stops for a moment, because this? This is perfect, and wonderful and-he’s married.

You push him away. “Andy, you’re - you’re married. What about Laurie?” God it hurt to push him away. But you can’t do this right? Even if you’ve never felt like that kissing someone before.

Andy sighs and pulls away from you. And that hurts worse than stopping the kissing. He begins to pace around your living room, before he gathers his thoughts. He finally turns to you and places his hands on his hips.

“Just answer me. Do you want me?” He looks sad again, and that’s a look you don’t want to see on his face. And worse to know you put it there.

“Of course I do. But-“ he cuts you off.

“Sweetheart, things with Laurie they’re - complicated. And you, I feel so much more like myself around you. Please, if you don’t want this I will walk out that door, and never bother you again. But if you do…” he trails off. The most earnest look on his face.

Your body makes a decision before your brain can catch up and somehow you’re kissing him again. But this time it’s much more heated.

“You’re sure?” You mumble against his lips. His only answer is to wrap his hand around your thighs and lift. Blindly carrying you over to the couch. He trails kisses down your neck to the line of your sweater dress. His hands skimming up your thighs underneath your dress to your panties.

“Wanted you for so long.” He says between kisses to your collarbone. “Wanna see you sweetheart, can I?”

You nod bashfully and he gets up so you can pull your sweater dress off. There you are standing in front of Andy Barber in nothing but a nude lacy bra and panty set.

“Don’t hide from me sweetheart. You’re beautiful like this.” His hands reach out to you and you go into his embrace. And he’s kissing you again. Pushing you down to the couch he starts to grope at your breasts, before releasing the front clasp on your bra.

The groan Andy lets out when he sees your breasts spill out flips a switch in you. This man wants you so badly, he’s willing to cheat on his wife for you. You reach down to remove your panties, but Andy’s hand stops you.

“Want you to keep them on sweetheart. Gonna fuck you, then fill you up and then you’re gonna keep it in there all day till I tell you to clean up. Cause you’re my good girl right?” His pupils are blown wide as he looks down at you. And all you can do is moan and nod.

“Please Andy…” you’re writhing and mewling beneath him and he’s barely touched you. You reach down to pull at his fly and button to get his cock out.

“Such a good girl for me aren’t you sweetheart?” He starts to pinch on of your nipples, while massaging the other breast. “Want Daddy to take care of you? Get you all cockdrunk and full?”

“Please Daddy,” you don’t even know what you’re saying anymore as you slowly jack him off. “Want you so bad, always wanted you, only you.”

Andy groans and surges forward to kiss you again. His hands leave your breasts to line himself up with your core. He pulls your panties to the side with one and runs the head of his cock between your lips with the other.

“Look at you, drenched for me and I’ve barely even touched you. Tell me how bad you want it baby, and then I’ll give it to you.” You reach up to cup his cheek.

“Want you so bad Daddy. Need you. Feel like I’m gonna lose it if you’re not inside me soon.” You whine and whimper as he teases you with his cock.

Finally he starts to breach your pussy. It’s a stretch, he’s bigger than you have had before, and you reach up to his arms and squeeze.

“You’re doing so good for me baby. Just a little more. Daddy will take care of you, I promise.” He’s whispering as he leans his forehead against yours. His eyes staring straight into yours.

“You’re so big, I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” You whimper and he kisses your temple. Finally you feel his balls slap against your ass and he’s all the way in.

“Oh baby, gonna fuck you now. You ready?” His hips are already pulling back before you can answer and they snap forward roughly.

Your eyes roll back as he gets into a rhythm. No one has ever throughly ruined you like this before. He may have ruined you for other men.

Andy sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping into you fast and rough. His right hand cupping and playing with your breast and the left sneaking into your panties to rub circles on your clit.

“Daddy please ‘m close.” It’s building inside you and before you can warn him your screaming out your orgasm.

“That’s it, such a good girl for Daddy. I’m right behind you baby.” And somehow Andy’s pace picks up again. You didn’t think he could fuck you any faster or harder, but here he is railing you within an inch of your life.

“‘M close baby, almost there.” He groans his release and you feel his cum flooding into you.

He pants into your neck for a few moments as you stroke one hand through his hair. The other is shamelessly clinging to his ass.

“You did so good for me baby.” He leans over you to pepper kisses all over your face causing you to giggle.

“Andy!” He laughs and finally gives you a break. Looking down at where you’re both connected he slowly starts to pull out, causing you to shudder. He lets your panties snap back into place, and slides down to kiss over your covered mound.

“Remember baby keep it all inside until I tell you to clean up okay?” This is new. The sex you’ve had with men before was…meh at best. And now you’ve slept with a married man, who wants you to call him Daddy and keep his cum inside you all day.

“Uh Andy?” You’re not sure if you want to tell him this. But you probably should.

When he climbs back up your body and gazes into your eyes it’s to see a searching expression on his face.

“Yeah baby, what is it?” He’s so kind, so sweet.

“What does this mean?” You can’t look him in the eye. It’s too embarrassing.

Andy sighs before responding. “I want to do this with you. Get to know you, spend time with you, fucking ruin you for other men. I don’t know where it will god, but we’ll figure it out as we go. Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you.”

And that’s how your affair with Andy Barber started.

After that it became a regular thing. When he could sneak away from Laurie he would text or call you to come over. There was nagging guilt building, but you always managed to push it away.

He was choosing you over her!

You let it carry on for months, trying all of Andy’s newest ideas to bring you both pleasure. After the first time, he didn’t linger around for very long after. Usually leaving as soon as he had you stuffed full of his cum. And you of course just kept falling for this unavailable man.

As you tidied up the house on your day off you heard your phone start ringing from the kitchen where you must have left it.

“Hang on!” You rush through the living room to answer, knowing that the only person who ever calls you is Andy.

“Hey Sweetheart,” ugh his voice. It got you every time.

“Hey Andy, what’s up?” That was casual right?

He laughs across the line, “I miss you sweetheart can I come see you?”

“Oh course! I was just tidy-“he cuts you off.

“Great I’ll be there in 20.” With that the line clicks off. You hum as you lose interest in tidying and decide to change, since you know what’s coming.

Slipping out of your pants and t-shirt, you decide on a floral dress with spaghetti straps. Andy always likes when you wear dresses for him.

15 minutes later you hear the knock at your apartment door that can only be him.

You smile as you open the door. “Hey, were you in the neighborhood?”

He doesn’t answer, just closes the door behind him, and pulls his jacket off. He goes to sit on your couch and gestures you to follow him.

“Is something wrong?” You ask him with a worried look on your face.

Andy’s face softens as he pulls you into his lap. “No sweetheart, I’m sorry. It’s not you. Just a bad day and I needed my good girl around to help me feel better.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and nuzzle into his neck. Peppering kisses along the collar of his shirt. “I’m sorry, can I do anything to help you feel better?”

His smile is watery as he turns his face to look at you. “Can I take you to bed baby? I just need to feel you.”

“Of course Daddy, always want to feel you.” You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he lifts you bridal style to take you to your bedroom.

He gently lowers you to your mattress, and himself above you. The kiss he plants on your lips is different from all the times he’s kissed you before. It’s slower, more passionate, like he’s trying to convey more without words.

You thread your fingers through his hair with one hand and use the other to start unbuttoning his shirt. Which he quickly shrugs out of. He moves to the zipper of your dress, normally something like this he’d barely undress you, but today something was different. Did he feel it too?

When you were both fully naked he cupped your cheek and stared into your eyes for a few moments, before slowly easing himself into you. Slowly he began to rut into you, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the pleasure building, slowly, but in a delicious way you had never felt before.

Using one arm to brace himself he brought the other down to your clit and started rubbing figure eights.

“Oh Andy, please I’m close. Don’t stop.” You were panting.

“I know sweetheart, I’m close too. Come on, I want us to cum together.” He adds more pressure to his fingers and changes the angle of his hips so he’s hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Oh! Oh, right there, right-“ you cut yourself off with a loud moan as your orgasm tears through you. It almost feels like you black out for a moment, because the next thing you know Andy is collapsing beside you and pulling you into his chest.

Through the afterglow you manage to murmur a few words to Andy. “I love you…”

He stiffens underneath you, the slow strokes of his hand running up and down your arm stop immediately.

“Andy?” He starts to sit up, not looking at you. In that moment you realize how wrong you had gotten everything. He didn’t want more than the sex. That was it, and here you were falling in love with a married man.

“I have to go.” He quickly gathers his clothes, still not looking at you as he dresses himself. While you sit alone and naked on your bed, in shock. Once he’s dressed he spares you a glance before walking out your door.

As soon as the latch clicks into place it’s like the last few moments finally hit you. You told him you love him, and he left. You turn over and sob into your pillow, uncaring for your nakedness, or how cold your bedroom is. Still smelling his cologne there makes you sob harder, to the point you feel like you’re going to throw up. It’s too much. You gave him too much of yourself, and now what do you have to show for it?

The days seems to stretch on after that. Everything seems to be passing in a haze around you. You call in to work on Monday, because why bother.

On Monday night you get a text from Andy. To say you’re shocked is an understatement. You stare at the notification for a while, unsure if you want to see what he has to say.

Deciding that you pretty much already knew what it was going to say you decide to jump in the shower, since you can’t remember the last time you did that. Stepping out you see your phone taunting you from the counter. More notifications from Andy.

Hey Sweetheart, just wanted to check in. Can I call? Pffft yeah right.

I’m sorry Sweetheart, please just let me explain

Nope, not gonna work.

At least just let me know you’re okay? Why were you starting to feel guilty? Of course you weren’t okay. Of course you didn’t want to speak with him. Of course you were falling for it.

Before your brain catches up to what you are doing you’re phone is ringing to Andy.

“Hello?” His voice is rough, like he was sleeping. Maybe he’s as upset as you?

“Sweetheart? Are you there?”

“Hey, yup, sorry. What do you want Andy?” Ugh, why are you almost crying again.

“Can I come over and we talk? Please? I want to explain and I don’t want to do it over the phone or through text.” He’s pleading. Well good, he broke your heart.

“If you want to come over to make it clear that this was just sex to you, no need. You walking out the door after I told you I love you-“ your breath gets caught in your throat but you power through. “That made things pretty clear.”

“That’s not-“ this time you cut him off.

“No Andy. Unless you’re about to say ‘I’m leaving Laurie’ this conversation is over.” You pause waiting for him to say something, anything. After the longest moment of silence you’ve ever experienced in your life passes you hang up.

It’s like you have no more tears left. You stand there alone in your sad apartment feeling the worst you have in a long time. You decide you need to move on, avoid Andy at all costs and live your life like you used to before the tornado that he was, came blustering in.

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #reader insert #chris evans #like I’m gonna lose you

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peterman-spideyparker · 1 year

Text

The Roommate and The Best Friend (College!Matt Murdock x College!Fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Long time, no post, guys! I do apologize for going silent on the fic front--I’ve just been so tired lately, I haven’t had the motivation to really edit anything I’ve written. BUT, my sweet baby angels, this is the longest stand alone fic I’ve ever done! It also took forever to edit, lol. I really hope you guys enjoy! :)

Summary: You’ve been Foggy’s best friend since you two could walk. Matt’s been Foggy’s best friend since he moved in at Columbia. After three years at law school all together, you’re all as thick as thieves. When Foggy doesn’t show up one day to a study session, something blossoms between you and Matt that will change the ecosystem of your friendship trio forever.

Warnings: Fluff (friends to lovers, cuteness, cuddles, kisses), angst (shouting, friendship fights, hurt feelings), smut (p in v, protected sex, blowjob, handjob, being cute dorks when a matching set is involved), swearing

Other Characters: College!Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 8.081

“At what point do you think we can officially say Foggy isn’t coming?” you sigh, flipping the page in your notebook and highlighting what is written in accordance to your study system.

Matt lets out a breath through his nose as his fingers move to feel at the braille surface of his watch. “An hour ago?” he smirks, resuming his own work.

“Eh, I guess I should have seen that coming.”

“How so?”

“All boys are the same when they start relationships, especially when they reengage the on-again. Knowing Foggy and Marci, they’re doing some weird sort of sex-study review game.” You shudder at the memory. “You’re lucky you’re blind, Matty. You can’t unsee that.”

“Trust me, I think it’s worse to only hear,” he chuckles.

“Ew, don’t even remind me of the sound!”

Matt just laughs, his fingers sliding across the page.

“Hey, get back to studying, Chuckles,” you chastise, smiling big yourself as you move back to your notes. “Rule 24 of Federal Civil Procedure won’t learn itself.”

“Rule 24. Intervention. Intervention of Right: On a timely motion, the court must permit anyone to intervene who—.”

“Shut up,” you scoff playfully, hitting his shin underneath the table. “Show off.”

You go back and forth, quizzing one another on the rules of civil procedure in the unit, adjusting in the library chairs until you’re leaning shoulder to shoulder going over material, Matt having abandoned his braille textbooks to listen to you read to him.

“You have a really beautiful voice, you know that?” Matt hums, his voice dipping into a velvety timbre.

“You’re just lazy,” you chuckle as you tilt your head and gaze over at him. “Getting me to do all the work.”

“Delegating,” he attempts.

“Laziness,” you counter.

“You do better when do explain things. You’ve said so yourself. And I’m a great listener.”

You purse your lips and let out a little sigh. “I do do better when I talk out loud,” you admit.

“You also always find your answer when you do.”

“And I do like talking to you.”

“I rest my case,” he says with a satisfied smile.

“Asshole.”

You laugh in your little secluded spot in the library, your shoulders shaking against one another’s as you do. You tilt your head to face him, Matt doing the same thing at the same time, his dark rectangular glasses long abandoned, letting you look into the honey hazel galaxy of his irises.

“Hey,” he whispers, his voice making a warmth spread all over your body.

“Hey yourself, Murdock,” you counter.

“You’re gonna be a really great lawyer, you know that?”

You feel yourself blush. If it’s from the sentiment of his words, the pitch that he says it, or your proximity, you’ll never know. Maybe it’s all three. You’re just glad he can’t see the full extent of how his words make you feel.

“Thanks, Matty. You’re gonna be great, too. I pity whoever will have to go against you in court.”

“You are so extraordinary, (Y/N),” he whispers, his thumb and forefinger taking ahold of your chin, the space between the two of you smaller than you remember.

“So are you,” you breathe.

“(Y/N), I—."

“I think we’re just getting tired,” you breathe as his lips hover centimeters from yours.

“No, I think we’re picking up on something that’s been here for a bit,” he counters, his voice at such a low pitch it does things to the heart in your chest and the heart between your legs.

But this is Matt you’re talking about. He’s your friend. He’s Foggy’s friend, his roommate. Sure, people can bond with their roommates, but it was almost like something out of a buddy-comedy with what happened with those two, and it was instantaneous.

You shuffle and maneuver around everyone in the hallway, moving furniture and supplies into their homes for the next year as you track down the number that is your best friend’s new address.

“Alright, Foghorn, boxes have been unpacked, and liquor needs to be poured!” you call as you glide through the entryway, the door left ajar. When you enter, you don’t see anyone in sight. Did you get the wrong number? No, that’s not it: unless someone else has some interest in really niche bands and the same quilt his mother knit him for Christmas in undergrad, you’re definitely in the right place. The social butterfly of a teddy bear man probably bonding with his roommate or something.

Just as you flop down on what his definitely Foggy’s bed, you hear his laugh and the tapping of something growing closer to the dorm.

“ . . . and I said, ‘No, Mom and Dad. I love you guys, but I don’t want to be a butcher, I want to be a lawyer,” Foggy recalls his infamous butcher story, his words becoming clear as they enter.

“Not the butcher story!” you interrupt, sitting right back up like a vampire in its casket, watching Foggy enter with a handsome man next to him, his brown hair floppy and shiny, dark rectangular glasses perched on his nose and a white cane in the hand that isn’t holding his coffee. “You got coffee without me? Rude.”

“Jesus, (Y/N)!” Foggy hisses, almost slipping his to go cup of coffee in the process.

“Sounds like a pretty famous tale,” the man next to him says with an amused smirk pulling across some particularly pouty lips. Really pretty pouty lips.

“Matt, this is (Y/N), my best friend since toddledom,” Foggy introduces, licking some of the roast that escaped the sip hole of the lid. “(Y/N), this is my roommate, Matt. His dad was Battlin’ Jack Murdock.”

Getting up, you move over to in front of where he stands by Foggy, watching how he adjusts the cane in his grip to under his arm, extending his hand just enough where it looks expectant for yours.

“It’s nice to meet you, Matt,” you tell him with a soft smile.

“Likewise,” he says with a little nod.

“I have to say, my gram was a big fan of your dad. She loved watching his matches.” He acknowledges your comment with a nod of his head and a little, soft smile. “You know, you lucked out on your roommate. Foggy’s the best friend you could ever ask for. You might need to get some earplugs, though, he snores like a Foghorn.”

“Do not!” Foggy interjects.

“He’s still in phase one denial of the whole thing. Really, sometimes, I think he could wake the dead with that sound.”

Matt’s lips curl into an incredibly large smile with a warm laugh that matches the expression.

And, well, the rest his history, with the three of you being thick as thieves since that day.

“This can’t happen,” you breathe, swallowing hard while your head and heart race a million miles a minute. “Foggy is my best friend—he’s your best friend. We can’t.”

“I know,” he breathes. “That doesn’t mean I want to, though. And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you want to, too.” He pushes some hair that has fallen out of your clip behind your ear. “Would it . . . Would it really be the worst thing?”

Your eyes flick down to his lips and how is tongue peeks out ever so slightly to moisten the plush skin before back up to his honey hazel eyes and their off-center gaze, his face softer and more vulnerable without the dark specks resting on his nose.

“This kind of stuff can ruin friendships. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to hurt Foggy.”

“I don’t want any of that either. But I also know that I don’t want to go another moment without kissing you.”

It’s unclear if you’re the one that closes the gap between you or if it’s Matt, but before you know it, you’re kissing in your little corner of the library. His lips are as soft as they look, perhaps even more so, and his aftershave floods your nose—crisp and fresh, a subtle blend of sandalwood, vanilla, and coffee pulling you closer and closer into him. His large hands slide down the sides of your body, squeezing your waist, making you moan into his mouth. The sound encourages him to lift you up, placing you so you straddle one of his legs. As the kiss grows more heated, your fingers running through his incredibly soft hair, you pull back, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Are you okay?” Matt asks softly, his hands running up and down your body soothingly.

“Extremely,” you breathe with a bright smile.

Matt smiles so bright he could outshine the sun, lines of happiness etching themselves into the skin by his eyes as he leans back in for a kiss. His hands continue to move mindlessly along your waist and your back, his fingers grazing the hem of your shirt and sneaking underneath the soft fabric, making goosebumps break out over your body with a shudder.

“Isn’t it a bit of a cliché to do that in the library, Matthew?” you whisper in his ear as he trails wet kisses along your neck, your entire body tingling at your position and the way he moves against your body.

“Only if we get caught,” he smirks, moving his face back so it’s focused in your direction.

“I’m taking that as code for you can attest to that from experience?”

“It was a close call, never a red-handed situation.”

“Mm, you true gentleman.”

You watch as Matt’s brows shoot up and furrow, some of the energy leaving him as his demeanor beings to change. “Do you not want to? We don’t have to. I—.”

“I want to, Matt,” you tell him, your cheeks burning hot at your own admission. “Do you?”

“I do. I wouldn’t have kissed you like that if I didn’t want to. Unfortunately, I didn’t think it through all the way—we can’t go back to my dorm. Foggy is probably there.”

“We could go back to mine?” you suggest, your heart now fully racing like a marathon runner. “I have a dingle.”

“Dingle?” Matt repeats with furrowed eyebrows and pouty lips.

“A double that’s now a single since my roommate dropped out.”

“A dingle.”

“A dingle, yeah.”

Matt brings his lips back to your, his kisses needily and tenderly in your isolated corner of the library.

“So, is that a yes, Murdock?”

The wicked grin that pulls as his lips tell you everything you need to know, and he doesn’t even bothering to use his cane as you lead him to your dorm on campus.

As soon as the door to your place is closed, your lips reattach and your hands work in a frenzy against one another’s bodies, desperately trying to get the clothes off of one another. Your hands slide over his muscular arms and torso until they are buried in his hair, the only thought in your brain is that you need to get him deeper and closer—a thought that continues on loop for the time you’re together.

The feeling of Matt’s lips on yours is made so much better after the orgasms that he has pulled from your body over and over during the night, but you’ll be damned if he stops now. A thin sheen of sweat covers your bodies as Matt continues to rut into you, one hand on your waist while the other supports his body weight on the mattress, kissing your shoulders and neck while his little wooden crucifix swings back and forth around his neck.

“Matt,” you groan before you pull him up for a kiss, his hair an absolute disheveled mess. It’s sloppy and filled with need, but damn if it isn’t absolutely impeccable.

“Do you have one more in there for me, angel?” he pants as he moves his kisses across your cheek to the sweet spot of your neck. “Come on, angel, you can cum one more time, can’t you?” All you can do is whimper as Matt continues to wind up that special knot in your stomach. “You’re doing so good. One more, I promise. Just one more.”

Hiking up your legs around his waist, you make sure the Matt’s hips stay as close to yours as possible, selfishly letting him rub up against your swollen, overstimulated clit, and ensuring that he’s nice and deep in you. The little grunts and groans that fall from Matt’s lips are angelic, the parted, plush lips and scrunched look of bliss on his face making your heart race more than it already is from exertion.

“Matty,” you whine. “Fuck!”

“Doin’ good, angel. Fuck, so good.”

Biting your lip and closing your eyes, you let the feeling wash over you while you dig your fingers into his toned muscles.

“I’m gonna . . . I—.”

“M-Me too,” he moans, dropping to his forearm to come closer to you as you try to hold your legs back higher. The newfound closeness and the new position let’s Matt reach a new angle, and it’s enough for the both of you to fall over the edge together. Matt does his best to try and fuck you through both of your orgasms, but it’s too much, and he stills, his hand running all over your body as he dips his head and presses soft kisses to your neck and lips. You suck in a sharp breath as he pulls out, feeling hollow without him in you, the drag of his length along your walls enticing. Tying up the condom, he tosses it in the trash while you get up and pad over to the bathroom. When you get back, you see him waiting with a dopey smile on his face, the sheets draping over his hips like some kind of adonis. When you get close enough, he pulls back your sheets and you happily slide in, snuggling close as he wraps an arm around you.

“You’re good at that,” you hum. “I think you’d gold medal.”

Matt laughs as his fingers trace patterns into your skin. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

“We can’t go back from that, you know,” you say softly.

“Who says I want to go back from it?” He shifts his head down in an effort to look at your face. You look back at him with furrowed brows. “I want to be more, (Y/N).”

“Matt,” you start. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to lose you or Foggy. If we do this and it doesn’t work . . . I lose the two most important people in my life.”

“I swear to you, (Y/N), you won’t lose either of us.”

You snuggle down on him, listening to his heartbeat before you peck a quick kiss to his chest. “I want more, too.”

“Then we’ll figure it out. I promise.” Matt runs a soothing hand up and down the line of your back.

“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.

You let out a little sigh. “Just that I thought I was supposed to be wined and dined before I was sixty-nine’d.”

Matt lets out a chuckle that radiates throughout your body. “We didn’t—.”

Before he can finish, you tilt your head up to look at his face, witnessing the moment that it clicks in his brain. “Classy,” he laughs.

“I’m just saying . . .”

“I can order pizza? I just don’t think I can do booze to go.”

“Who says you need to bring the booze?” Rolling over, you reach into the bottom drawer of your nightstand and pull out a bottle of wine. “From the special movie night reserve.”

Matt’s lips turn into a big smile, making adorable lines appear again at the corners of he eyes as he leans forward for another kiss, making you loose grip on your bottle of wine. He catches it with ease, placing it to the side of the bed as he chases your lips, and the way he captures your body beneath his lets you know that he doesn’t plan for the night to end any time soon.

Your leg bounces and your heart races as your eyes keep flicking towards the clock on the desk, watching the second hand move painfully slow across the timepiece as you await Matt’s arrival like you do several times a week, except this time, you have a surprise for him. Your heart nearly leaps out of your chest when you hear a gentle knock at the door. There’s no special pattern to it, but the pressure and rhythm lets you know that Matt is on the other side. His handsome smile greets you when you swing your door open.

“Hey,” you smile as Matt enters your dorm, his bag sliding off his broad shoulders to the ground, cane leaning up against the wall, and glasses coming off of his face as he toes off his shoes.

“Hey yourself,” he hums as his plush lips curl upward into a smile, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss. The way his tongue slides into your mouth sends goosebumps all throughout your body; if anyone else tried to kiss you like this, you would consider it absolutely gross. But the way Matt does is? That’s how a man kisses—a man that’s on the cover of a romance novel that is dominant but tender, passionate yet gentle. A shudder of pleasure moves through you like shockwaves as he moves his hands up from your waist and up to your neck, helping him set the pace and motions of the kiss.

“I have a surprise for you,” you whisper when he finally pulls back, getting the sentence out just before he begins to eagerly move back in.

His eyebrows quirk up. “Do you, now?” Cocky bastard.

“I do. Now, sit on the bed.”

With a gentle push on his shoulder, he falls back on the mattress, making him coo in delight as he bounces slightly and causes the springs to squeak. With a little exhale to pump yourself up, you pull off your shirt and slide down your jeans, standing in nothing but your underwear.

“You know I can’t see it, angel,” Matt says with a tilt of his head. “But I do like what I just heard.”

“You don’t need to see it to appreciate it, Matty,” you inform, taking a step forward, taking his hands in yours and placing them on your shoulders. “Now, feel.”

This fingers glide over the soft lace that flutters off of the straps, down to the smooth mesh cups, and over the sides, tracing the lace and the pseudo-boning that decorate the bustier. His fingertips trace between the valley of your breasts, feeling a little criss-cross pattern that adorns the fabric before gliding his fingers down the the mesh panties and feeling the same soft lace that decorated it. A tiny moan escapes your lips when he brushes his fingers down between your legs, his digits lingering before they come to rest on your hips.

“You got a matching set for me?” he asks, his expression and tone one that you can’t quite read.

“Don’t flatter yourself too much, Murdock, it’s from Target,” you hum as his hands trace the hemline of your panties. “But yeah. I thought you’d like the textures being consistent. And, I could afford it, so, that was a perk.”

“You got lingerie for me,” he smirks, his lopsided grin telling you that you’ve only inflated his ego. “That’s so—.” His sentence his halted when his fingers trail to the back of the underwear, just below the small of your back. “Angel, I think you’re missing part of these panties.”

Now it’s your turn to smirk. “Nope,” you tell him, popping the ‘p’. “It’s got a little keyhole back. It’s not quite easy access, but—mm, Matty.”

“I say, it gives me a good idea,” he says as one hand squeezes the flesh of your ass as the fingers on the other slip into the keyhole and tease you. Pulling you back onto the bed with him, you straddle him as you mimic the kind of kiss he greeted you with upon arriving. Moans and puckering quickly fill the room as you grind your hips on his jeans, opting to tease him through his light layers before attempting to shed them.

“You are such a fucking tease,” he murmurs in between kisses.

“Hi pot, it’s kettle,” you quip as you mark up his neck before pulling off his shirt. If you didn’t right this second, you’d never hear the end of it.

“Objection—badgering!”

“Overruled.”

With a light shove, you push him down so you are now fully on top of him, kissing all over his beautiful chest and soft skin as you grind into him.

“Shit,” he hisses. “Fuck, that’s nice.”

“You’ve helped me perfect my technique,” you hum into his skin, moving your kisses back up to his neck and lips. “Gotta get you nice and hard for me, Matty.”

As you continue to grind down on him, his hands guide your hips, setting the pace and pressure just so in an effort to make you both feel good. When his hands begin to travel up on your body along the line of your spine, you gently take hold of them and bring them back down.

“I got the matching set for you—it’s staying on during this entire thing,” you smirk, dragging his fingers along the mesh and lace of your panties. “Now, I can’t say the same thing about these jeans.”

Moving off of him, you undo his belt and pants, shimmying off the denim with some help from his hands, allowing you to take hold of his painfully hard cock, pumping it in your hand before you bend down, your knees digging into the thin mattress so you can start to take him in your mouth.

“(Y/N),” he moans. “Fuck . . . So nice, baby.”

“Mm,” you giggle, dragging your lips back and forth along his length, licking him here and there. “Your cock is so pretty, Matty. I love putting it in my mouth.” Slowly going down on his length, you wiggle your head side to side lightly until you’re all the way down on his length with your cheeks hollowed out. You look up at him through your lashes, feeling a sense of pride at how is face is contorted in pleasure and how long his lashes look resting on his cheeks. Moving off of him, you gasp and catch your breath, hungrily kissing up his length while one of his hands cradle the side of your face. His hand doesn’t set a pace as you bob your head, repeatedly taking his thick cock into your mouth over and over, but rather as a silent show of encouragement and affection as you work him. Careful to not get too lost in it all with Matt in your mouth, you reluctantly pull off, leaving soft pecks all the way up his body until you meet his lips.

“Are you ready to fuck me with my panties on, Matty?” you coo.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he murmurs with his lips against your. Taking you by surprise, he quickly grabs you by your hips and flips your positions, making you giggle and bring his lips back to yours for a deep kiss. Like a rehearsed routine, he extends his arm to the side and opens your nightstand drawer, rummaging around for the box of condoms you keep there. “Angel,” he pants, “I hate to break it to you, but there are no more condoms in this box.”

“What?” you say practically whining as you adjust your position under Matt, taking the investigation into your own hands. Just as Matt said, the box of contraceptives is completely empty. This time, you do whine. “No!”

“I told you.”

“I could have sworn I had plenty.”

“You know what it was?” he says, something clicking in his brain. “Moot court championship.”

Thinking back to a couple of weeks ago, you remember exactly how you celebrated the travel team winning your championship over Yale—you and Matt being the two that secured the victory, which only provided extra cause to celebrate.

“Damn, you’re right,” you sigh.

“I could always run out and get some more? I’d be quick.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you joke, only for Matt to roll his eyes, licking his lips and tilting his head back in playful annoyance. Damn, he’s got a beautiful neck. “No, Matty. I don’t want you going out this late.

“It’s not too late, sweetheart.”

“I’d be worried about you going out in the dark.”

“That’s sweet—you worry about me.” Nothing in his words are condescending—they’re filled with pure affection. “Trust me, (Y/N). I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”

“I still don’t like the idea of you going out.”

Matt kisses your forehead before resting his on yours. “I have an idea, but I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” you say, knowing immediately where he is going with his sentence.

“Well, since you don’t want me to go out and get some more and I really, really need to be inside the smart and talented woman that bought a matching set for me, we’re in a pickle.”

You let out a huff, your hands sliding down Matt’s furry arms.

“Foggy isn’t there?” you check.

“Out with Marci.”

“And you’re sure there’s no way he’d be back?”

“I can say it’s highly likely he won’t be back. Even if he does—.”

“Matt—.”

“Even if he does,” he repeats. “He’s gonna leave almost immediately because his roommate is having sex.”

“And if he asks with who after? Actually, better yet, what if he tries to come and hang out with me?”

“Tell him you’re out shopping. You and I both know that while he’s a man of unique fashion, he treats shopping like a mission. Trust me, that should work.”

You look up at him, licking your lips in hesitation before you pull him down for a kiss. “Okay. But first . . .” Maneuvering him on the two pushed together mattresses of your dingle so you’re on top, you run your hands down his body, wrapping your digits around his rock hard length and pumping him a few times. “You’re not going anywhere with a boner that big.”

“Matt,” you breathe as he glides into me so incredibly effortlessly, hitting deep over and over. “Oh God, Matt.”

“Angel,” he grunts, a delicious blush spreading up and across his chest and neck. “Fuck, I needed you.”

“You’ve got me,” you smile, taking one of his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together while he thrusts into you. “Mm, you’ve got me, Matty. I’m yours. Only yours. ’m not going anywhere.”

The softest smile spreads across his features when he rests his forehead on yours. “My girl,” he whispers before bringing his lips to yours.

Dipping his lips to your neck, his holds your hips up so your back arches slightly off of the bed while he thrusts into you.

“Matty,” you whimper. “I lo—mm! Matt!”

Matt places wet kisses all over your chest and neck before he brings his lips back to yours.

“So perfect,” he mutters in between kisses, and it’s then that you hear the twist and jiggle of the doorknob.

Matt abruptly breaks your embrace, frantically moving to cover your body with his, and you curl inward and down to the mattress, facing the wall so Foggy won’t be able to see your face.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Foggy says, and you can hear his hurried movements to grab what he needs. “Inopportune timing, I know, but Marci invited me on a weekend getaway, and I need some things.”

“Just hurry,” Matt urges him, and you can tell that the rapid way that his chest rises and falls isn’t from your interrupted exertion. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I am out of—,” Foggy starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence. “Those are (Y/N)’s shoes.”

“What would her shoes be doing in our room, Foggy? She can’t just leave them places —she kind of needs them. Besides, I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

You hear Foggy’s bag fall to the floor with a thud.

Shit.

“Matt, who’s with you?”

“Foggy—.”

“You know, I think I might just give (Y/N) a call. Check up on her.”

“Fog—.”

“Wait,” you sigh, closing your eyes in distress and defeat as you break your silence. Adjusting from under Matt, you turn to look at your friend. The look of pure betrayal and hurt is one that will haunt you for the rest of your life. But what’s even scarier, is how quickly the hurt in his eyes turns to pure, red-hot anger.

“Get away from them!” Foggy shouts, pulling Matt off the bed, Matt barely having enough time to react and keep his sheets around his hips. “Don’t you dare touch them!” You hop down from the mattress, standing between the two best friends and roommates, sticking your arms out to create extra distance in the tiny dorm so Foggy doesn’t absolutely jump Matt.

“Stop it!” you urge.

“I can’t believe you!” Foggy continues.

“Foggy, believe me, we didn’t mean for this to happen, it just did—,” Matt tries.

“You know how much they mean to me, and you just decided to ignore it and drop your pants for a quick fuck—!”

“Hey, whoa, out of line, Foggy!” you interrupt. “Don’t put this on Matt like that, we both—.”

“I’m not talking to him, I’m talking to you!” he clarifies. “You know that Matt is my best friend, and you go and do this? How could you? I can’t believe you! After all the things I’ve told you, about how his is with women—.”

“Hey!”

“—how could you be so careless and reckless?”

“Excuse me—.”

“I thought you were smarter than this! I can’t believe you!”

“Foggy—.”

“I can’t even look at you. Just get out of here!”

Tears burn at my lash line as I let his words absorb into me.

“Get out!” he repeats, the level and tone of his voice something I am thoroughly unused to. “I never want to see you again.”

You would’ve rather he just sent an open-faced slap across your face. His words and his tone cut you like a knife and are worse than any other pain you have or could ever experience. Mixed with his glare more than confirm that my best and oldest friendship has now been severed in half with no chance of reconciliation.

“Fog—,” Matt starts quietly, breaking the deathly silence in the room.

“I’m going,” you say after a moment, grabbing the clothes you can find. You don’t really care that they are Matt’s sweats—you just want to get out as fast as you can. Throwing them on and grabbing your bag, you begin to rush out of the room, only for Matt to take a few steps out to follow you.

“(Y/N)—,” he says softly, his beautiful hazel eyes desperately trying to focus on your face as his tongue darts out ever so slightly on his lips.

“I’ll see you later, Matty,” you tell him with a kiss to his cheek, as he holds your hand feet away from his door in the empty hallway.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You squeeze it back. “No. It won’t.”

“How mad is he still?” you ask quietly as lie with Matt in bed, unable to stand the silence in the room that allows your thoughts to run wild, ramping up your anxiety over the friendship that you lost. Foggy was true to his words when he said he never wanted to see you again—he has cut you off cold in every way imaginable, from changing his route from dorm to class, to finding a new coffee shop and time to eat in the mess hall, to changing his seat in class to the other side of the room, and even going as far as to request a new partner for a project, erasing every possible venue where you could interact.

“He’s still really upset about it all,” Matt sighs. “He’s talking to me. It’s not exactly the same degree as it was, but it’s enough where we are moving back to what we were. It’s still awkward sometimes, though.”

“Does he know that we’re still together?”

“He does.” Matt pauses for a long while, his arm rubbing up and down your arm as if he’s listening to your silent question that screams through the dorm room. “We don’t talk about relationships, though.”

You let your breath hitch in your chest while your jaw tightens, a fresh wave of guilt that you haven’t felt in a long time washing over you. “I’m sorry that I’ve made things weird between you guys,” you whisper on the verge of tears.

“It’s not your fault, (Y/N).”

You snuggle down into his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. “Sure as hell feels like it.”

“He’ll move past it. It’s just gonna take time. Before you know it, it’ll be back to how it was.”

“It won’t be the same, Matt. You know that it won’t. Especially after all these months . . . it’s dead and gone and buried.”

“It will be okay, (Y/N).” When you don’t respond, Matt moves his hands down your body and situates you so you’re sitting on top of him, the covers pooling around your waist and leaving you exposed to the cold winter air that seeps in through the old windows of the dorm. “I promise you, (Y/N), that it will all be okay. And you know how I know? You and Foggy have the biggest hearts of everyone I know. There’s so much love in there, and there’s so much love that you have for one another. So when I tell you that it’s going to be okay, it will be okay.”

You give him a small smile, leaning down and taking his face in your hands, giving him a soft and sweet kiss.

“Thanks, Matt,” you whisper, brushing his hair off of his forehead.

“Hey, I know what will get that smile to grow.” With his hands on your hips, he begins to rock you back and forth along his leg, holding you down, placing just the right amount of pressure down on your hips to create the friction that you need between your legs.

“Dick,” you chuckle as he guides you along his strong, muscular leg.

“You gotta give him a minute before it’s good for either of us,” he hums, only making you laugh more. “But I got you to smile.”

“You always make me smile, Matty.”

“Ditto, angel.”

Your room fills with the slick sound of your core against his leg and your heavy breathing, the sounds only getting louder as your pace increases.

“Right there,” you breathe as he guides your hips on his thigh, soaking the skin that’s there and creating a mess between your legs. “Fuck, Matty. It’s so fucking good, baby.”

“Grab a condom, angel,” he moans. “Fuck, I gotta get in you soon. Need you, angel.”

Twisting around quickly, you go to reach for the box in your nightstand. However, you twist too quick, losing your balance and teetering off of Matt’s thigh, crashing down on the concrete floor of your dorm, your arm breaking the fall. You groan in pain, muffling the sound by keeping your mouth shut as it tries to escape your lungs, and you hold onto your forearm, a throbbing pain radiating from deep down.

“(Y/N), are you okay?” Matt asks you as he gets out of the bed and helps you up.

“Fine,” you grit through your teeth. “It’s fine.”

��It doesn’t sound fine.” You wince when his hand grazes your arm. “(Y/N)—.”

“I’m okay. I just whacked my arm real good.”

“It sounded like more than that. Take the word of a blind man with really good hearing. It’s more than a whack.”

“Matty, it’s okay.”

“You really should get it checked out. It might be broken.”

“It’s not broken, Matt, trust me. Nothing Advil and ice can’t fix.”

“Sweetheart, please. That way, we can know for sure.”

“Matty—.”

“I’ll foot the bill.”

“It’s not about money, I—.”

“Go for me. It’ll make me feel better to know that a medical professional says you’re fine,” he continues. “Please, angel.”

You let out a sigh, taking in how concerned he is and how soft his features are.

“You’re gonna have to help me get dressed,” you concede.

“It’s gonna be a while,” you tell Matt as you sit back down next to him in the waiting room.

“But the forms are filled out,” he says with a little smirk. “One step down.”

“I’m telling you, Matt, it’s probably nothing.”

“And then you can rub it in my face. But at least I’ll feel better knowing you’re all right.”

“Yeah, but you’ll have an uncomfortably sore back.”

“C’mere,” he whispers, having you adjust and snuggle into his chest as you sit in the stiff, flat seats. “I always feel better when you’re on me—it’ll cancel out the shitty chairs.”

You chuckle softly, finding the sweet spot that you love to curl into. “You’re a good pillow, you know that?”

“You might have told me once or twice before.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head while he throws his coat over you like a blanket. The motion immediately brings the sleep creeping at the edge of your consciousness to the forefront, slowly taking over. “Try and sleep, angel. I’ll wake you up when they call.”

“No sleep til Brooklyn,” you smile.

“You’re hilarious,” he sighs, lightly resting his head on yours. “You still need to sleep. You were up late studying for your last final, got, what, maybe three hours of sleep? And you’ve been going all day. I’ll wake you up when they want to take you back, I promise.”

You yawn wide and snuggle into him, closing your eyes and feeling just how heavy they are. “Kay, Matty. Love you.”

You feel his hand slip into yours on on good arm. “Love you, too, angel.”

When you feel Matt gently shake you awake, you’re sure you must have only closed your eyes for a short while, but when Matt helps me up, your watch tells you that it’s several hours later.

“Want help, angel?” he asks as you slide his jacket back over to him.

“I’ve got it, Matty,” you hum, giving his lips a quick peck. “Besides, I got to prove to you that it’s all fine.”

“Okay,” he chuckles, giving the hand on your good arm a squeeze. “See you soon.”

After he listens to you get led back, Matt tunes into the orchestra of the waiting room, listening to anything and everything for a long while before something catches him off guard.

“What happened?” a familiar voice rings in Matt’s ears in the quieting ER.

“Foggy? What are you doing here?” Matt asks, standing up.

“Marci was visiting her cousin that had a baby. She saw you guys come in, said that something looked wrong.”

“(Y/N) hurt her arm. She didn’t want to come, but she was in a lot of pain. I almost had to drag her here.”

“What happened? How’d she hurt it?”

“She was trying to reach for something and overestimated the stretch. She fell off the mattress and landed hard on her arm.”

“Is it broken?” Foggy asks as he sits in your empty seat.

“I think it is,” Matt sighs, mirroring his friend’s movements. “She’s convinced she’s fine, though.”

“Of course she thinks she’s fine. She never wants to admit when she’s hurt. It’s like when she gets a cold, it’s always just—.

“Allergies’,” Matt finishes with a smirk. “Yeah. You know, she got a really bad cold about a month ago, and she would swear a blue streak that she was okay. I had to keep a bag of lozenges in my bag with a to-go Tylenol so when her fever spiked, I could give her some with some water or get her a tea from the coffee cart. I don’t know how she muscled through it. It was really bad.”

He can hear how his friend turns to look at him. “You really care about her, huh?”

“I love her, Foggy,” Matt tells him. “When I was with Elektra, I thought that was love. But being with (Y/N) . . . I know she’ll always be there. She makes me better. She helps me be who I want to be. And I’d do absolutely anything for her. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.” He tilts his head to his friend. “You know she didn’t want to date me at first? She was afraid it’d ruin our friendship, but she was more worried about how you would take it. She didn’t want to hurt your feelings. After everything . . . Fog, (Y/N)’s absolutely torn up about it.”

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about what I said to her and how I said it,” Foggy starts. “The look on her face . . . The worst thing about it all is that when I said those words, I wanted them to hurt her, and I did exactly that, and I felt good that I did. She looked so broken. By the time I wanted to try and talk to her, I burned that bridge so much I couldn’t reach her. I feel like the biggest piece of shit that there is.”

“If I know anything, it’s that (Y/N) loves you, and you and your friendship means the world to her. That bridge isn’t gone. If anything . . . The map was lost. And just because the map is lost doesn’t mean that the path over that bridge is gone for good.”

“You think so?” Foggy asks hesitantly.

“I know so. And if I know you and (Y/N) even a fraction of how well I do, things will be okay.”

“Thanks, Matt.”

“I’m just telling you the truth, man.”

As they talk in the waiting room, everything starts to feel like it used to—the ease, the comfort, the flow of conversation. After about ninety minutes, Foggy declares a quest for coffee, groaning as he stands, bemoaning just how uncomfortable the ER seats are. Shortly after Foggy disappears, Matt hears your heartbeat grow closer to the double doors you went through, the nurse giving you a list of care instructions. Matt smirks to himself while he can, taking some pride in the fact that he convinced you to get some help and prevent it from becoming worse, but willing to play none the wiser for when you come out.

“I’m not saying that you were right, only that I underestimated the severity,” you sigh as you meet Matt in the waiting room.

“What was it?” Matt asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek, but you wince when his hand is on your arm. “(Y/N), this feels like a cast.”

“Well, yes, it is. My radius and ulna are broken. But I was right, I’m fine. I’ll survive.”

“You are absolutely fit to be a lawyer,” he chuckles, kissing you once more. “When can the cast come off?”

“It’ll be off just in time for the start of the semester. No kinky sex stuff, though.”

“I’m sure we can find some kinky stuff to do that won’t hurt it. Trust me, I can get very creative.”

You laugh as he leans in for a kiss, your lips still turned into a smile as you embrace. When you pull back, you see Foggy approaching with a coffee travel tray. You immediately dip your head and avoid looking at him, unable to fight the feeling of tears that instantly bloom in your chest.

“You still like cinnamon in your coffee, right?” Foggy asks, making you tilt your head up to look at him, his other hand extending the hot cup to you.

“Two sugars?” you ask softly.

“No cream,” he says with a little smile.

Taking it with your good hand, you let the cup warm you up. “Thanks, Foggy.”

“I’ll hail a taxi for us,” Matt says, pressing a kiss into your hair and then patting Foggy on the shoulder, leaving nothing but thick air between you and the person you’ve known your whole life.

“Listen, (Y/N)—.”

“I’m sorry, Foggy,” you blurt, unable to contain it. “With Matt, we just kissed, and I didn’t want to stop kissing him, but I really didn’t want to hurt you. It was head and heart and I just froze, and I lost my best friend because of it. I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry about, (Y/N),” Foggy says softly, looking like he just saw a puppy get kicked. “I thoroughly overreacted. I should have been happy that my two friends were together and happy. Instead, I turned into a big brother and treated both of you like you didn’t know what you’re doing. I dunno . . . I guess I had just wished you would’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want you to be mad. And the longer I waited, well, it felt like I couldn’t tell you,” you tell him. “I’m so sorry.”

“You love him?” is all that Foggy asks.

“I really do,” you nod. “He loves me, too. He hasn’t said it, but I just have a feeling, you know?”

“Something tells me that he does, too.” His brows furrow in concern. “Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Fog. Do you forgive me?”

“I’d wrap you in a big hug as a silent ‘You bet your bottom, I do’, but then I’d hurt your arm even more than it already is.”

“You still can,” you say with a small smile. “I’m a tough cookie. I can handle it.”

“How about when the two of you aren’t holding hot beverages?” Matt interjects as he reapproaches you.

“Attention to detail—that’s why you’ll be an excellent lawyer,” Foggy teases.

“Thanks, man,” Matt tells him, putting his jacket around your shoulders. “Good to go, angel?”

“Yeah, thanks,” you hum.

“I say let’s go to Josie’s. Drinks on me,” Foggy says as you move to the cab. “I’ve got my best friends back—if that isn’t cause for celebration, I don’t know what is.

“You think we’ll have time?” Matt asks, feeling at his watch as you guide him into the taxi.

“I’m sure she’d keep the bar open just a little longer for her favorite patrons and retainered legal council.”

“None of us are lawyers yet, Fog,” you chuckle as Foggy tells the cabbie the address for the bar.

“But we will be after we pass the Bar, and once we are, we’ll be her lawyers. Bingo, bango, bongo. She’ll let us have a tab and everything.”

“Dreaming big, aren’t you?” Matt laughs.

“Oh yeah, once we get that tab, we’ll be able to take over the world.”

“How about save the world?” you offer.

“Matt’s big humanitarian heart has gotten to you, I see.”

“C’mon, Fog. Who better to stick up for the little guys than three little guys from the Kitchen?”

“You make a good point. But I do counter—big office space with nice big windows and a view.”

“Well, a big office space would be nice. Windows and a view isn’t a deal breaker for me,” Matt smirks.

“We’ve got a real comedian over here.”

“All I’m saying is that if we’re helping people, does it really matter what the space is like?”

“Well, it’d be nice to have walls, floors, WiFi—ooh, no lead paint . . .”

“Okay, the space matters a little bit,” Matt and Foggy laugh as the cab comes to a halt, Matt beating you to the punch and paying the driver before you can unzip your bag.

“Regardless of its size, the space has to be in the Kitchen,” you settle. “If we’re gonna help the people, we need to be with the people.”

“Amen,” Foggy agrees, followed by Matt’s, “Here, here!” as we walk in.

“Sounds like we’ve got a future to plan,” you smile as you sit between them at the bar.

“Josie—the eel, please!” Foggy asks. “And several napkins: I’ve got some designing to do.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione

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msbigredmachine · 3 months

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💖Beginners' Guide to MsBigRedMachine's Fanfics💖

Thank you once again to two of my faves @southerngirl41 and @harmshake for the tags!

Intro: I'm Ada! I write fanfiction mainly for Roman Reigns, but I expanded to Jey Uso and now I've added his twin Jimmy, lol. Also have a Samoa Joe fic lurking somewhere.

Pairings: As you'll see in my masterlist, ALL my OCs are Black women. Dark skin, light skin, caramel, slim, big...all beautiful Black baddies. Also, being Nigerian, I aim to incorporate more Nigerian names in my fics too. Sorry, I don't do slash of any kind. I've been asked before and it's just not my thing.

Warnings: Smut, angst, drama, more smut. No one under the age of 18 should read my stuff or interact with me on it, or you'll be outed without hesitation.

So where to start reading...?

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My first fic: My first-ever one was actually an RVD fic called Shattered Rose that I never finished, when white women were my OCs. I know wayyyy better now😬

My longest fic: My first baby, Into The Deep End. March 6, 2024 will make it ten years since I first published it on another platform. I worked so hard on it as a stress reliever when I was studying for my Masters, and to know that it still gets so much love on all the sites I've posted it on truly warms my heart. Targets is my second-longest, I really enjoyed that one too.

My shortest fic: Definitely Wait For You. Marian tagged me in a "Seven Sentence" challenge and this was the result. I'm terrible with <1000 word fics and it was truly a challenge, lol.

My most popular fic: So, there's three answers. Overall, Into The Deep End for sure. But for my one-shots, I still get messages and quotes about Power Couple (Roman/OC) and On Sight (Jey Uso/OC) to this day.

My personal fave fic: Lol this answer changes all the time. They're all my babies, I really can't choose. Each time I re-read one, I fall in love with it.

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💖About me💖

30+, a qualified lawyer/attorney by profession. I've been writing all sorts of stuff since I was a child. There's something about putting your imagination down on paper that is so liberating and I really enjoy it. Maybe one day I will have the courage to actually publish something.

I've been posting my fics on tumblr for years now. I'm truly happy to have met such great authors along the way, and I appreciate all the likes, reblogs and especially the amazing comments and feedback. Forgive me for all my late responses, work and Nigeria's WAT time zone messes me up lol.

Thank you all again, and enjoy!

Click here if you're not yet on my tag list and you want to be added.

---

Again, tagging everyone: @jxtina-86 @wrestlingprincess80 @southerngirl41 @alyyaanna @squishyguishy @jstarr86 @murrylove @thewarlordsworld @mzv11 @cozyaliensuperstar7 @nayys-world @hunnidmilly @cyberdejos2 @papireigns-05 @niknakbucks92 @captainwithoutmakingitlove @sovereigngoth @aisharmi @kennedi0818 @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @herwickedlittlesins @harmshake @fame-ass-ers@questionable-behaviour @tribalchiefreigns @2-muchsauce @thatbxtchsblog @raya-hunter01 @marchi36753 @lovelysuccess @christinabae @wooahmiri @thatonecarebear @tabletheofhead @rheaanddamianfan @vebner37 @hanley1577 @princessesareforsuckers @-naturally @joannasteez @bbygirlky18 @lilucey @theninthwonder @melaninsugababy @chocovibesonly @msbluehaz3 @scarlettnoir01 @heerah34 @empressdede @tbmotw @darkangelchronicles @visionarymode @marasdeathnote @aintnorainbows @meggylynnloves @shantinextdoor @harlemblipster @trc-punzel @afterdarkprincess @nbanenefrmdao @sassginaswanmills @purplehairgawdess @holisticcoach @girlwhogaf @royalkay23 @heyitsnajabrinee @stoner2k @reci1996 @catxo @iamimanim @lookmais @ts1mp0ne @shonny09 @lizzyd1ish @gomussy @m3llowww @skyesthebomb @final1miya

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americasass91 · 1 year

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Bad Grade

Hello, there lovelies!

So this was completely conjured because of the picture above. I can’t help that I’m horny for the bastard. Thus, this fic was born. I immediately thought of Andy when I saw the glasses and had to indulge in a little Professor fic. With a surprise thrown in at the end 😉

I hope you enjoy it.

*DISCLAIMER*, if you’re under 18, you don’t belong here. Kindly fuck off and go away. Thank you!

Words: 2.9k

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Language, unprotected sex, P in V sex, oral(m receiving), Professor kink, Andy’s glasses, I think that’s it

👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓👓

You nervously pull down your skirt as you approach the professor's door. You have to admit you’re a bit nervous. You almost think about turning around.

Instead, you take a couple of deep breaths and hesitantly raise your fist and knock on the door.

You don’t have to wait very long at all before the door swings open and reveals your law professor, Mr Barber.

“Ah, Y/N. I was beginning to think you weren’t gonna show.” He says as he’s not so subtly giving you a once over.

You clear your throat as you pull on your skirt again. “Of course I was gonna show. I’d like to discuss my bad grade.”

He moves aside so you can enter his classroom. As you’re walking to a desk in the front row, you hear him shut the door and turn the lock. You turn to look at him quizzically. “Is there a reason we need the door locked Professor?”

He waves you off and walks over to stand in front of his desk so that he’s directly in front of you. “Just don’t want to be disturbed while we discuss your paper.”

You nod hesitantly as you take a seat. “Okay…where should we begin?”

He gives you a look you can’t quite place before he grabs your paper off his desk. He pushes his glasses up his nose. “I think the first place to start is to ask if you’re paying attention in class because according to this paper the answer is no.”

You look down at your hands that are fiddling in your lap. “I’m doing my best, Professor. It’s hard. I’ve been a bit distracted lately.”

“It’s not the only thing that’s hard.” He mutters under his breath.

You furrow your brows. “What was that?”

He clears his throat and leans against his desk. “I asked what’s distracting you?”

“Oh, uh, you know…just normal stuff.”

“Are you having issues at home?”

“No.”

“Problems with your other Professors?”

You shake your head. “I guess you could say I’ve been distracted by…someone.”

“And who might that be?”

No way were you telling him that considering he was the someone. “That’s not really important. What I’d like to know is if there’s anything I can do about my grade?”

He looks down at the paper in thought for a moment. He looks back up at you after a few seconds. “You could always try actually paying attention and studying.”

You know that’s not gonna work. Not when he shows up to class in his stupid cardigans and those stupid fucking glasses. “I’ll do my best, I promise. Is there anything else I can do? Maybe some extra credit or something?”

He looks down for a moment. You can swear you see a slight blush on his cheeks. The look he gives you when he lifts his head back up is enough to have your panties melting off of you. “Well, I can think of a few things. Though you might not be up for it.”

You clasp your hands in front of you and start pleading to him. “Please, I said I’d do anything, Professor. I have to pass this class if I want to be a lawyer someday.”

He stands up fully and drops your paper on his desk. He takes his glasses off and wipes away a smudge with his sweater. He places them back on his face. “Alright then. You could, oh I don’t know, suck me off?”

Your mouth drops open. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say, but that definitely wasn’t it. “Excuse me?”

He starts walking toward your desk. You’re glued to the spot, unable to look away from his now heated gaze. He leans down and plants both hands on your desk and gets so close that you can see your reflection in his glasses. “I said you can suck me off.”

You cannot believe your hot law professor just said that to you. You’re appalled. You quickly stand up and storm to his desk to grab your paper so you can leave. You just get your hand on it when you are pushed against the front of the desk by Mr. Barber. He cages you against him and the desk and ruts his obvious erection against your ass. He moves your hair away from the right side of your neck and leans forward to speak directly in your ear. “Where do you think you’re going, honey? I thought you wanted to improve your grade?”

You try to wriggle free but he has too good of a grasp on you now. You realize there is no way out of this. You sigh in defeat and lower your head. “Fine.”

He stops moving. “What was that?” He turns you around so that you’re facing him.

“I said fine. Can we just get this over with?”

He smirks as he backs away a little, enough to give you room to sink to your knees. Which he assists in by pushing on your shoulders.

You adjust yourself so that you’re a little more comfortable before looking from the noticeable sized bulge in his pants back up to his face.

He raises a brow at you. “Well, what are you waiting for? It’s not gonna suck itself.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes as you shakily reach for his belt and undo it. You glance up to see him peering down at you with lust in his eyes. “Go ahead, honey.”

Without any more hesitation, you undo his pants and push those and his boxers down enough until his cock springs free. Holy shit. You can’t help but take a moment to be impressed. It may not be the longest one you’ve ever seen, but damn was it thick. You weren’t even sure you could get your mouth around it.

He must be able to read your thoughts. “Don’t worry, honey. It’ll fit.”

You start with wrapping your hand around the base. Your fingers don’t even meet. It earns you a hiss from your professor. You move a little closer and give a tentative lick to the tip. After that earns you a groan from Professor Barber, whose hands are now in your hair, you give a nice lick from base to tip.

He gently yanks your head back by your hair. “Stop the fucking teasing.”

You smirk but decide to oblige. You hesitantly take him into your mouth, only able to get about half down before having to remove your mouth to take a breath. You were right, your mouth barely fits.

You give a couple more pumps with your hand before trying again. You get a little further than halfway this time. Which seems to please him. “Fuck, just like that honey. What a nice little mouth.”

You begin bobbing your head, still only able to go a little more than halfway. This only continues for a few minutes before you’re being yanked off his cock by your hair.

“You can do better than that. You want that better grade? You’re gonna have to work for it. How about this, just keep your mouth open and I’ll do the rest.”

Before you have a chance to even think of responding, he’s stuffing his cock back into your mouth. He gives a few shallow thrusts before picking up speed and shoving more and more of it into your mouth each time. You start gagging a little. He stops again. You look up at him, mouth still full of his cock, with a questioning look on your face. He removes his hands from your hair and gestures towards your arms. “Give me your hands.”

You place your hands in his. He takes your hands and plants them on his hips. He then leans forward and places his hands on his desk and looks down at you degradingly. “Hang on tight.”

You barely have time to tighten your hold on him before he starts a punishing pace. The tip of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. “Ah, Fuck. That’s it. Your throat was made for fucking, honey.”

You just squeeze your eyes shut as you’re having an internal battle in your head. You shouldn’t be enjoying this. But you can feel your panties soaking through. Stupid fucking hot professor with his stupid hot fucking glasses.

His pace starts to become a little sloppy. You can feel him starting to pulse in your mouth. You know he’s close. You start bobbing your head to meet his thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Gonna make me cum down that little throat. You want that, honey? Wanna swallow your professor’s cum?”

You let out a moan and give his hips a squeeze to let him know that was more than okay.

He only lasts a few more thrusts before removing himself halfway as he releases his spend down your throat. You make sure to be good and swallow it all before releasing his cock with a ‘pop’. You look up at him as you wipe the sides of your mouth. “Was that okay, Professor?”

He grabs you under your arms so he can lift you up to stand with him. He immediately pulls you in for a heated kiss. Moaning as he tastes himself on your tongue. You go to move closer to him when you feel his erection press into your lower belly. You pull back with surprise. He shrugs and slaps your ass as he goes around the desk to sit in his chair. You turn to face him. He’s pushed his pants and boxers down to his ankles and is stroking his cock. “Guess you’re not done earning that good grade yet.”

You look at him in disbelief. “But I did what you asked me to. I sucked you off.”

“Yeah, and that was great. But now I think you need to ride me. Really secure that A+.”

You’re struggling internally again. On the one hand your professor is taking major advantage and could probably get in serious trouble for this. On the other hand, he’s really fucking hot. You shrug your shoulders. Oh well, go big or go home.

You go around the desk and stand in front of him. “Good girl.” You shiver as he reaches under your skirt to remove your ruined panties. Once they fall to the floor, you step out of them. He quickly snatches them up and puts them in one of his desk drawers.

He reaches under your skirt again and grabs at your ass before making his way towards your pussy. You spread your legs apart. You whimper as his fingers make contact with your soaked cunt. “Fuck, honey. All this just from sucking me off?”

You let your head fall back as you nod. He plays with you for a few minutes, from circling your clit to inserting his first two fingers and scissoring them around to open you up for him.

Just when you start grinding down on his hand, he pulls it away. You snap your head up and look at him. He pats his thigh. “Have a seat, honey.”

You go to start straddling him when he pushes you away. “Nuh uh. Turn around.”

You do as you’re told, desperate to get his cock in you. He grabs your hips and moves you backwards until you're in between his spread thighs. You place your palms on his desk in front of you for some balance. He flips up your skirt and helps you lower yourself on his cock, stopping once he gets the tip in, allowing you to take over. “Take your time, honey. Nice and slow, that’s it.”

You let out a whine as you lower yourself down. He is stretching you so fucking good. It takes you a few minutes before you’re fully seated on him. You let out a deep breath as he smacks your ass. “Alright, get to riding, honey.”

You use your legs and your hands that are placed on his desk for leverage as you slowly start to move up and down. He feels incredible. He keeps his hands on your hips to make sure you don’t rise off his cock completely, helping you move. “God damn that’s a tight cunt. You’re so fucking wet for me. You’ve been wanting this haven’t you? Been wanting your professor to fuck you.”

The last sentence wasn’t a question but a statement. There was no denying it. You pick up the pace. “Oh, yes Professor Barber. Been wanting your cock for awhile now.”

He helps you bounce a little faster and smacks your ass. “Yeah? You’re just a little slut aren’t you?”

You shake your head. “Just for you, Professor. Only you.”

“God damn right only me.”

He allows you to continue your pace as he removes his left hand from your hip and moves it under your shirt to get a handful of your breast, making sure to pinch your nipple in the process. It makes you clamp down on him. “Fuck, honey. You like that?”

You’re only capable of a whimper at that point. He goes back and forth between your breasts, pinching here and grabbing there.

You start moving faster, starting to feel your orgasm building. He’s repeatedly hitting your g spot. You moan out. “Right, there Professor. Right there!”

“My little slut gonna cum all over her Professor’s dick?”

You nod. “Need a little help, please Professor.”

He pulls you down fully on his cock and takes his hand out of your shirt and wraps his arm around your waist and pulls your back against his front. You place your hands on his thighs for balance and immediately start grinding your hips, needing friction.

He takes his right hand and moves it in between your legs. You part them a little so he can reach your clit. He rubs tight, rough circles against it. You’re not gonna last long now. You throw your head back against his shoulder and grind even faster on him. “Oh, god! Gonna…gonna cum!”

He speeds up his fingers. “Do it, cum all over my dick honey.”

You only last a few more seconds before you fall off the edge. Your vision goes white. Your release triggers his. You can hear him moan your name as he releases inside you.

Both of you continue to move to ride out your highs, eventually coming to a stop to catch your breaths. And then it’s silent.

He’s the first to break it.

He presses a kiss against the side of your head. “I love you.”

You giggle and move your hips a little, knowing he’s sensitive. This earns you a slight pinch on your thigh. “I love you too…Professor.”

He chuckles and helps you stand up, keeping his hands on your hips as he stands with you, knowing you’re a little unsteady on your feet. He carefully turns you around. You look up at him with a big smile on your face. He mirrors it and tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. “How was that?”

You bite your bottom lip as you wrap your arms around his waist. “It was perfect.”

He shakes his head as he leans down for a quick kiss. “I still can’t believe I let you talk me into doing it in my classroom.”

You shrug your shoulders. “It made the fantasy more believable.”

He rolls his eyes as he kisses your forehead. “You and your fantasies.”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy them. Besides, next time it’s your turn.”

He raises a brow at you. “Oh, yeah? I’ll have to get creative.”

Now you roll your eyes playfully at him. You turn around and tap his phone to check on the time. “Shit! It’s already 5:45. I told the babysitter I’d be back by 6.”

He juts out his bottom lip in a pout. “Just text her and tell her your husband isn’t done with you yet.”

You smack his shoulder. “Oh my god, Andrew I didn’t tell her the real reason I needed a babysitter! She thinks I just had an appointment.”

He smirks. “Well, you did. A dick appointment.”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m married to a cheeseball like you.”

“Say what you want, but this cheeseball’s cum is currently running down your thigh.

You hated when he was right. Which reminded you. “Can I have my panties back?”

He shakes his head. “No way. You have to drive home like that. Wasn’t the babysitter curious as to why you were dressed like that?”

You look down at your provocative school girl outfit you bought especially for this. “I changed in the car. But I don’t have another pair of panties.”

He shrugs. “Sucks to be you.”

You scoff at him. “I hate you.”

“I love you, too, honey.”

You go around the desk and grab your bag off the floor. You walk back over to your husband as he’s buckling his belt into place. “Are you coming home right away?”

He shakes his head. “Not yet. Because of your little distraction, I didn’t get all the papers graded that I needed to. I’ll probably be home around 8.”

You nod and lean up on your tiptoes for a last kiss. “Okay, well be careful coming home.”

“Always, honey. Your professor is always careful.”

Tags: @drabblewithfrannybarnes @harrysthiccthighss @patzammit @bluemusickid

#andy x reader #andy barber #professor barber #andy x y/n #glasses #andy barber smut #Chris Evans #chris evans smut #sorry not sorry #glasses kink #professor kink

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