#that's a shit ton use of the word “tag/tags/tagged”. oh well.

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

Some non-LB music videos Fred has appeared in

"Bleed" - Soulfly

"Got the Life" - Korn

(Sam Rivers is also in this one right next to Fred on his left)

"The Real Slim Shady" - Eminem

"Get Naked" - Methods of Mayhem

"Home" - Staind

"Bow Wow (That's My Name)" - 'Lil Bow Wow

"Look Out" - Hard Target

"Resurrection" - BONES

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 1. The Night Shift

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal." “Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-" You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Chapter Warnings and Tags: No Outbreak! Joel Miller, Mentions of intended smut towards the reader, Boss x Employee Relationship, Virgin Reader, All of the yearning, Joel Miller is a silly flirt, A small-ish age gap, Joel is too forward for his own good, Tess is a boss (and should not be fucked with - or you get the horns).

Word Count: 5.6K

A/N: Well, hello there!

I honestly have no idea where this idea of a (somewhat crack) fic came from, but I had an idea and I ran with it! A lot of the character development came from my own anxieties of feeling behind in life, and if you feel that way too, I feel you! Don't worry, I promise it won't always feel like this. Time is just that- time, and it's never too late to follow your dreams! I believe in you!

To: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Subject: I think I have a Virus?

12:50 AM (10 min ago)

Hey Sugar,

I know it's late, but my computer fritzed out an hour ago (a shit ton of pop-ups) and I have that presentation with The H Hotel tomorrow morning. Well, do you think you could do me a solid and help me... not have any more of those darn pop-ups? I called the number that popped up asking if I needed assistance with the virus and they asked for my credit card information but they haven't replied back.

Shit, was that a scam? Fuck. I should call Amex.  

Anyway, do you think you can help me get out of this bind, Sugar? I'll be forever and eternally grateful. If you don't, well... I'm sure Tess will rip me a new one, and I would like to not have a Servopoulos-level meltdown at 9 in the morning. Not after last time. Sorry about having to be a part of that, Sugar. At least Maria was able to pay for your dry cleaning and get you a new shirt? You should have let me check your chest for burns, I sure as hell wouldn't want scalding hot coffee being thrown in my direction either. Shit. Not check your chest as in checking out your... breasts, just the burn site. Yeah. That's what I meant. 

(Also, sorry for emailing you last minute. Shit. I'm desperate, baby.)

Thanks,

Joel Miller 

Owner and CEO, Miller Construction Group

(512) 123-4567

To:J.Miller@millerconstructiongroup.com

Fr: IT@millerconstructiongroup.com 

Subject: RE: I think I have a Virus?

1 AM (0 seconds ago)

Good Evening Mr. Miller,

I got your request and will work on it shortly. I can't make any promises, but I will try to get you out of your "bind".  

Don't worry about that thing with Tess. She was rightfully upset, and I just so happened to be caught in the line of fire. If it had to be one of us, I am glad it was me being pelted with boiling hot coffee, and not you in front of your clients. You didn't have to have Maria buy me a blouse from Neiman Marcus, nothing a little tide-to-go can't fix, right? Also, I knew what you meant about my chest, and I didn't think you wanted to look at my... breasts. Let's not refer to any of my body parts moving forward.

Also, I am not completely comfortable with the terms of endearment that you continuously call me, Sir. Please refer to me by my actual name, these emails are monitored by Tess and I would not like to be scalded with hot coffee again for a little misunderstanding.  

Please let me know if you have any other pressing questions or concerns.

Goodnight!

IT Specialist 0926,

IT Department, Miller Construction Group

(512) 765-4321

"Ok Bubbles, let's see what mess Mr. Miller got himself into this time."

Settling by your coffee table, you access your remote portal and insert your portable SSD, initiating various programs to gain entry into your boss's laptop. Securing your hair in a messy top bun with a claw clip, you find yourself biting your bottom lip in concentration. Simultaneously, you switch on your TV, finding solace in the ambient noise that fills your dimly lit apartment—a space shared with Sir Bubbles, your British Shorthair companion since your college days. There's a marathon of Criminal Minds airing on TBS, Spencer Reid's adorable face on screen as he rattles off another theory for why the unsub was an abuse victim by his prostitute mother. You turn the volume down a bit, drowning out his voice.

It's near silent in the little shoebox you call home, the only decent place you were able to afford with your meager savings- after slaving away as a Geek Squad IT Specialist for the majority of your twenties at the Best Buy down the road from your parent's house. Despite graduating with your MIS at the University of Texas - Dallas, finding a decent job in your industry was brutal, and, honestly, quite embarrassing after receiving 30-plus rejection emails in a span of a year. Downtrodden and desperate for a job, you settled on working at Best Buy temporarily, but by the time you hit your mid-30s, it's been eight years working for barely minimum wage, and absolutely nothing to show for it. 

"Do you remember those sweet Miller boys who fixed our roof ten years ago?" your mother asks during a Sunday dinner six months ago, sliding a boat of gravy your way as you absentmindedly drizzle it over your mashed potatoes. "I ran into the older one... Joeseph? James? He owns his own company now with his brother, quite the feat, right? They're working on that hotel down the road... anyway, Josh-"

"Joel," you correct her, nudging the over-steamed carrots around your plate. "I think his name was Joel, Mama."

"Yes, Joel," your mother dismissively waves her hands. "Well, I told him about how you were on the job hunt, you know, with your master's and all. Oh, remember when you used to have that silly little crush on him? He's grown to be quite the looker, you know? Anyway, he told me that they were looking for someone to replace their old IT person—apparently, they retired—"

"Mom," you groan, "get to the point."

"Well," she grins conspiratorially, "he wants you to apply, baby. He remembers you and your little crush, and he said he could never forget someone as cute as you. If you're as good as I claimed you were, well... the job's practically yours!"

Your fork slips from your grasp, the metallic clang against porcelain causing Bubbles to leap in surprise, hissing at you in irritation. "Wait, what?" you blurt out, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and confusion.

Your mother beams at your reaction, seemingly pleased with the bombshell she just dropped. "I told him all about your IT skills and how you practically run the technology world from your bedroom. He seemed really interested, sweetie. And, well, it wouldn't hurt to at least consider it, right?"

You sit there, a swirl of thoughts and emotions whirling in your mind. The unexpected twist of Joel Miller, the older Miller boy you once had a crush on, remembering you and possibly offering you a job—it's surreal. Bubbles, having recovered from the earlier disturbance, casually resumes licking his paw, completely uninterested in the familial drama.

"I... I don't know, Mom," you stammer, trying to process this unexpected turn of events. "I mean, working for the Millers? It's a bit... complicated."

She leans in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. "Sweetheart, this could be a fantastic opportunity. And who knows, maybe that little crush of yours could turn into something more... professional, of course." She cuts into her meatloaf, humming in contentment as she chews. "Oh, and Sweetie? Wear the red sweater with your pleated skirt, with something other than those sneakers. You're turning thirty-six in September; you can at least do yourself a favor and start dressing your age for once! I'm sure Joel would appreciate it!" she winks at you as your father grunts in displeasure, rolling his eyes, muttering "meddler" under his breath.

"Mom, it was just a crush from a decade ago. Besides, mixing work and personal feelings is never a good idea."

She chuckles, reaching across the table to pat your hand. "Well, think about it, okay? Joel seemed genuinely interested in having you on the team. It's worth exploring, don't you think?"

A wink, a handshake, and six months later, you find yourself on-call indefinitely, catering to Mr. Miller's every technological whim and folly. It's not a bad job, you reason — getting paid triple what you made at Best Buy, monitoring everyone's browsing history in the office, and fielding the incessant IT requests Mr. Miller sends your way- which was often.  Way too often.

[My laptop won't turn on.]  Did you charge it? Try doing that first.

[Why does the volume not work on my Zoom calls?]  Did you make sure that you're not on mute or that your computer volume is up? Check that first.

[Since when did we put a parental blocker on the internet?]  It was per Tess, who said that employees should be working instead of looking up anti-feminist manifestos on Reddit. I apologize for the inconvenience, Mr. Miller. [Oh, well shit. Do you think you could unblock it for me? I am... having a hard time accessing my... bank account.] I mean- I could, but I would have to run it by Tess first. [Do you think you could... for me? It'll be our little secret, Sugar. Don't worry about Tess, I'll handle her.]  Sure, Mr. Miller... Right. Our little secret.  [Sugar, for the last time, it's Joel. Besides, I thought we were past having a silly little crush on me, you've grown into a... rather nice young woman. Please, call me Joel.]  Uh, sure Mr. Miller.

You are broken from your silent reverie by the unmistakable ding, ding, ding of the pop-ups Joel- Mr. Miller - you correct yourself, mentioned in his email. You scoff, biting into a piece of beef jerky. Typing in a command, the pop-ups halt, the black screen granting you developer access popping up as you run diagnostic after diagnostic trying to catch the little sucker - a virus, as Mr. Miller claimed - in the act of corrupting your poor boss' laptop once again.  There you are, you little shit, you mutter under your breath as you furiously type in more commands, eradicating Mr. Miller's bane of existence for good (or so you hope).

After running what felt like the tenth diagnostic of the night and downing three cups of coffee for the last three hours, the dawn of a new day streaks through the sheer curtains against your window. With bated breath, you restart Joel's system once more, closing your eyes until the familiar chime of Windows 11 booting up reaches your ears.

Please, please, please for fucks sake... no more pop-ups...

Joel's home screen pops up in an instant, the photo of him and his two girls smiling back at you as you breathe in a sigh of relief. "Fuck yes! Finally!" you silently exclaim, a drawn-out yawn and a deep stretch escaping your body as you settle your laptop on your couch. "Okay, let's just run a few programs and check a few documents to make sure they're not corrupted and then I can finally hit the sack..." you squint at the digital clock of your microwave, "and sleep for an hour before I have to get ready for work," you groan, eyeing the jar of Cafe Bustelo in the distance. Yep. No sleep for me, you think bitterly.  Another night, another one of Mr. Miller's computer meltdowns... 

Your eyes scan his desktop, opening up the PowerPoint file he needs for his presentation. It opens up with a slight lag, something you can optimize later but you breathe out another sigh of relief anyway. You check his internet browsing history, his late-night extensive porn viewing not a surprise to you anymore as you snort at the ridiculousness of it all.  At least it's not as bad and kinky as Tommy's browsing history, you tell yourself, because you'll never quite get used to all of the roleplay porn he watches religiously, you think. Closing out of Google Chrome, You scan his desktop for a random Word doc for you to open, not checking its title as you double-click on the first one that you see, slightly hidden by the Recycle Bin icon to the bottom right.  Wants? What kind of a file name is that?

The Word doc pops open, and it seems to be a running list of random things. You blearily scan the line items, your eyes widening in shock as you read on.  

Fuck her against my office door as I cover her mouth to muffle her screams.

Spoil her with a shopping spree at Neiman's with my Amex black card.

Fulfill my breeding fantasy by convincing her to get off of her Birth Control (do you think she's on one?)

Fuck her from behind against Tess' desk (serves her right)

You quickly exit out of the document, pushing your laptop away as if it were cursed. You look at the document title once more.  

Wants.

What the fuck was this? Who is he talking about? you ponder, the guilt of your negligence weighing on you like a weight tied to your ankles as you sink into the depths of the Atlantic. You shut your laptop for good measure, covering it up with your quilt as you shake your head in disbelief.  

What the fuck did I just read?

“Mr. Miller? Do you have a moment?”

You knock on the office door once more for good measure, standing timidly as you try to occupy yourself by smoothing out your dress - sensible, a decent length, work appropriate, you think to yourself. You try to not occupy the idle time of waiting for your boss, Joel Miller, one half of Miller Construction- and the thing you found while remote logging onto his computer last night - I think I have a virus, his email stated - only to stumble upon something rather telling and personal - but he was your boss, and you were a professional, and you weren’t going to think about the list… 

Kiss her in the rain.

Make love in my truck as she rides me. 

Bend her over my desk and take her from behind.

Marathon sex

Eat her out as she works at her desk.

No, Joel was unequivocally your boss—older than you by at least a decade (and maybe a few more years, give or take), and the document titled "Wants" was clearly personal, likely intended for someone else, and certainly not meant to be seen by anyone, especially not an overly curious IT specialist like you. No, you reckon that this list was meant for someone else in the office - someone beautiful, sexy, and confident— someone decidedly who isn't you. Certainly not for someone who dresses like she’s still in college, who only recently began living on her own in a shoebox of an apartment (if you can call it that) after living with her parents for the majority of her adult life, and who barely has her life together. It’s pathetic, being a woman of a certain age and with nothing to show for it, still painfully single, nothing substantial to your name, only getting your life together now while everyone around you has done everything right.  I feel so behind in life, you think to yourself.  Who would want someone so pathetic as me?

It’s not like it’s a crime to have wants, you think to yourself. Everyone has them, including you, you reason. So what if you just so happen to stumble upon your boss's deepest (and somewhat depraved) desires? Doesn’t everyone have a bucket list of their desires written somewhere? So what if your older, attractive boss with his Gen X tendencies has it typed out on his work computer? It’s not like he meant for you to open up the Word doc, right?

You knew he was single. You also knew that he had kids, at least two—Sarah, his eldest, was the head of HR, and Ellie, his adoptive younger daughter, an apprentice working under Tommy, the other half of Miller Construction—a serial flirt who asked you about your dating life in your interview a few months back. No, you didn’t think about your boss and the sheer mass of man that he was, that he smelled like cedar and sandalwood, that he winks when he tells you good morning as you pass him in the parking lot while stumbling out of your less-than-impressive shitty Corolla. You also didn’t take note that he drinks his coffee black with a sprinkle of sugar—the one in the brown packet—or that he eats in his office instead of the employee lounge because he’s a messy eater. The deep red blush trailing down his neck as Tommy scolded him about his lack of table manners during a company-mandated team-building day wasn't proof enough of that.

There wasn’t a ring on that tell-tale finger, not even a tan line, no photographs of another woman on his desk—besides his daughters, of course. Not that you were looking. Tommy had his wife Maria come down to the office often enough; wouldn’t Joel be the same with his own?

Miller Construction prided itself on being a family-run company, with Joel and Tommy at the helm and their best friend Tess as VP—more the boss than the actual Miller brothers. While Joel and Tommy preferred the hands-on work on-site, Tess ruled over the office with an iron fist. No one dared to cross her.

"You've got one job, and one job only," she declared during your office tour. "Make sure no one spends the majority of their shift watching porn, and keep Joel from messing up his computer with his boomer-isms. We can't afford to keep replacing a laptop every six months."

"Isn't he in Gen X?" you ask. "... at 56 years old, he's still considered to be in that generation, right?"

"Technically, yes," Tess replies with an exasperated sigh. "But you know what I mean. Sometimes it feels like Joel is stuck in a time warp with his 'boomer-isms.' Just keep things running smoothly here, alright?"

As the days pass, you notice an unusual trend in Joel's computer issues. It seems that every time his laptop malfunctions, it coincides with a spike in suspicious internet activity. It doesn't take a genius to connect the dots, and you can't help but shake your head at the irony of it all.

After a particularly eventful morning filled with more than the usual technical hiccups, you decide it's time to address the elephant in the room. You knock on Joel's office door, half-expecting him to be engrossed in some spreadsheet or construction plans.

It's not like you have to tell him about your snooping - he would be none the wiser judging by the way he was so technologically inept - you weren't about to tell him that the reason for the virus on the computer was because he was looking at some rather specific porn - boss fucks unsuspecting secretary from behind- his internet history had listed, nor did he probably think that his computer is being monitored, including his internet browsing history- company policy, as stated on the employee handbook that every employee of Miller Construction signs on the day of their official hiring- nor does he think that it sends reports to her at the end of the day.

You don't think about how the sudden uptick of his secretary porn viewing increased since a week after your hiring.  It's just a coincidence, right?

“Mr. Miller?” You call out once more. “It’s about your IT request last night? I have an update?”

“Yeah? Sorry! Come on in!” you hear from behind the door, accompanied by the frantic shuffle of papers and a silent curse. You take a deep breath as your hand turns the doorknob. Silently, you shut the door behind you, offering a small smile as you smooth out the skirt of your dress once more.

You fidget in place in front of the door as Joel—Mr. Miller—in his green flannel and dark jeans slung just right—it really should be criminal, looking this ruggedly handsome for someone his age, you think—as he ungraciously flops onto his desk chair, motioning for you to take the seat in front of him as he clears his throat nervously. “Take a seat.”

You situate yourself in front of him, refusing to meet his eyes as you fiddle with your hands on your lap, wondering why he, out of all people, would be nervous. It's not like he stumbled upon something so... intimate. You are a professional, and you were only doing your job, you tell yourself like a mantra, trying to ground yourself. What's the worst that could happen? It's not like he would fire you over your accidental snooping, right? You nod to yourself. “So…”

“So…” he replies, Adam’s apple bobbing as he takes a drink of his coffee. “Thank you for taking a look at my computer last night.” He begins, smiling at you. “I know that it was late, and I’m willing to compensate your time by giving you time and a half…”

“Oh,” you nervously reply, shifting in your seat. “No, Mr. Miller—”

“Joel.”

“What?”

He shakes his head. “Please. We’re all family here. Call me Joel. Mr. Miller is my father for fuck's sake—”

“Right,” you chuckle. “Sure. Joel. Listen, you don’t need to compensate me for last night, let alone give me the overtime rate—”

“I emailed you at midnight; surely you were already busy, or I probably irritated your husband—”

“No.”

“No?” 

“No,” you mumble solemnly, “there’s no husband, just me and my cat-“

He barks at that, the laugh so loud it makes you jump in your seat. He gives you a look, almost as if he was relieved with that bit of information. “Well, disturbing your cat, then-“

"Oh," you reply casually, waving your hands in dismissal. "I'm sure Sir Bubbles didn't mind... and I don't sleep much, really—"

"Oh?" He straightens himself, his face serious. "Is it because of all of my requests? Shit. My girls give me such a hard time about not being with the times, I'm not really interested in technology— So no husband? Boyfriend, then?"

"Uh, no," you reply quickly, not eager to delve into the details of your lackluster love life. You clear your throat, adopting a professional demeanor. "Joel, as you're aware—or maybe not," you chuckle nervously, "I receive reports of all employee internet histories at the end of the day. Being the sole IT specialist on your payroll—perks of the job, outlined in my duties—I keep an eye out for any... irregularities."

"Irregularities?" he replies, his demeanor shifting into something resembling guilt. "What are you trying to get at?" he presses.

"Well, I monitor employee computer usage to make sure that they're not... distracted from their work," you reply. "Tess was explicit about not having any employees using company time for any unnecessary personal... dalliances."

Joel gives you a hard look. "Dalliances?"

"Yes, dalliances. Tess told me it was an issue before, with employees browsing social media and visiting questionable Reddit threads?"

"I don't follow," Joel replies. "You gotta spell it out for me, Sugar. What does that have to do with my request last night? I had a late night at the office, and after... checking my emails," he gulps, "I suddenly get bombarded with these pop-up things, so much that I just... unplugged my laptop... and, well-"

How is he so oblivious about this? You bite your cheek in frustration, not knowing how to get to the point without having to spell it out for him that you caught him browsing porn last night, secretary porn at that, and although it's highly inappropriate, you hardly think he was watching it because of Gladys, his actual secretary, who is old enough to be his mother.  Not unless he has some weird mommy kink...

Unable to endure the suspense any longer, you decide to rip the bandaid off as soon as possible. “I’m sorry!” You exclaim, “I didn't mean to look at your browsing history, I mean, I had to, but only because I had to find the reason why a virus got on your computer, but that is not the point! I had to open a file to make sure it wasn't corrupted, and I swear, I didn't mean to open it!"

“Open what, sweetheart?” he smiles at you, leaning forward towards you.  

"Well, it was a virus, and as I looked into the problem, I had to explore every avenue to ensure I pinpointed the issue, you know, for my report to Tess. I went into your history to see if it might have been a site that caused you to have the virus. I may have casually peeked into a few files to ensure they weren’t corrupted…” you admit, “…and I might have stumbled upon-" your eyebrows raise in embarrassment, "Something personal."

“Something personal?” He questions, his brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t have anything personal… oh, shit.” His eyes widen as the realization dawns on him, hands covering his face as he groans in embarrassment. "Look, about my internet history... and the list-"

You slowly nod and bite your lip, mostly to hide your own embarrassment. “… yeah. Um, it was quite... informative about your... sexual preferences.”

Joel visibly pales at your confession. He adjusts his collar, unbuttoning the second button as if he were being strangled by your scrutiny. “I just want to let you know", he starts, looking you in the eye with an unreadable expression. "I respect you as a woman, and Tommy, fuck, he wouldn’t let it go, with all that teasing about you being exactly my type and all, and well, your mother did remind me about your little crush on me back then-“ he rubs his hands through his hair as he rambles on, “… and I know that this looks bad, with you being my employee and all-“

“Wait, what?” You cut him off, a confused look on your face. “What do you mean? I mean, they're your personal preferences, and the list, well, I'm sure whoever you're writing about must be some woman, not that it's any of my business-”

“Fuck. You didn’t read all of it?”

“No!” You exclaim, practically jumping out of your seat. “I quickly closed it once I realized the nature of the document…”

“Well.” He stands up suddenly, pacing behind his desk. “I wrote that drunkenly one night after the company dinner, you know, the one when you wore that dress… do you remember?”

“Yes,” you reply breathily, “… the night where-“

You vividly recall that night. It was a dinner at the recently completed new hotel project. After a few glasses of wine and an impulsive, rather expensive purchase at Nordstrom.com a week prior, you endured most of the evening in an uncomfortably tight and overly revealing dress—a poor choice for a company party, for fucks sake. You believed Joel approached you at the end of the night out of sheer pity, not because—

“Well… after seeing you in that dress, and how stunning you looked in it, sitting by yourself, biting your lip in a way that makes me-“ he stops himself, giving you a small smile. “I was drunk, and I was thinking… I was contemplating how, if I were to have you, if you, by some miracle of fate… were interested, that I would do things right, you know? That if I had a second chance at… I would do it right. Treat you right.”

“You do know I’m not a secretary, let alone your secretary,” you roll your eyes. “I’m in IT… the only person in IT actually, and you’re not the first person I caught looking at questionable porn…”

Joel bristles at that. “Shit. Let me guess… Tommy?”

That gets a small smile out of you. “I can neither confirm nor deny, but… he’s partial towards a certain porn actress, and let’s just say he is really in love with women who looks like his wife.”

He smiles. "Shit, I thought I was being obvious enough, being that Tommy has teased me about it enough... I thought you knew. I know you work with computers, Sugar. I’m not completely senile, and I know Tess has been on a warpath about people getting their rocks off at work, I figured you would look at all of my… perusing.”

You're left stunned, your mind racing to process what Joel just revealed. It's not the revelation about his desires that leaves you speechless, but the unexpected admission of his feelings toward you. Your mind flashes back to the list, the desires that seemed so out of reach for someone like you. You never thought Joel would be harboring any feelings for you, let alone express them so openly.

"I... I had no idea," you stammer, still grappling with the revelation. "I thought that list was for someone else, someone... not me."

Joel walks around the desk, his eyes never leaving yours. "You thought wrong, sweetheart. I've been trying to drop hints, but I guess I've been subtler than I thought."

A myriad of emotions wash over you — confusion, surprise, and a hint of something you can't quite place. The professional boundary between boss and employee seems to blur, and you find yourself in uncharted territory.

"But," he continues, "I get it. I'm your boss, and this is complicated. I didn't want to put you in an awkward position. I should've been more direct."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "Joel, it's not about being direct or indirect. This is just... unexpected. I never thought someone like you would... feel that way about someone like me."

He reaches out, gently lifting your chin so you meet his gaze. "Someone like me? What does that even mean, darlin'? You're intelligent and beautiful, and I've seen the way you handle your work. I've noticed you, and I can't help how I feel."

A mixture of vulnerability and sincerity in his eyes makes it hard to doubt his words. You start to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, your insecurities have clouded your perception.

"I don't want to pressure you, and I understand if you're not comfortable with this. I just needed you to know. The last thing I want is for things to be awkward at work," he says, his thumb gently caressing your cheek.

You take a moment to absorb everything. Joel's revelation, your preconceptions, and the unexpected turn of events. The office, once a familiar space, now feels like uncharted territory.

"I need time to process this," you finally say. "It's a lot to take in, Joel. I never expected... any of this."

He nods understandingly, his hand dropping to his side. "Take all the time you need. I'll respect whatever decision you make. And hey, if you're not interested, we can go back to being boss and employee, like nothing happened."

You manage a small smile, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "I'll... let you know. Just give me some time, okay?"

"Of course," he says, moving back toward his desk. "And, for what it's worth, I meant every word on that list. Whether it's a rain kiss or making love in my truck, I want it all with you."

You nod, silently acknowledging his sincerity. As you leave his office, you can't help but wonder how a routine IT request led to such a revelation. The office dynamics have shifted, and you find yourself navigating uncharted waters, unsure of where this unexpected revelation will lead.

As you walk away from Joel's office, a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts consumes your mind. The revelation about Joel's feelings for you is a shock, but it's not the only thing echoing in your head. The list of desires he had penned down only magnifies your own insecurities. The voice in your mind grows louder, whispering that you're not the woman he deserves—too much of a mess, too behind in life, and certainly not beautiful enough for someone like him. The echoes of your perceived inadequacies replay like a broken record, drowning out the possibility that someone could genuinely see something valuable in you. You glance at your reflection in the office window, critiquing every imperfection, every perceived flaw. The dress that seemed sensible before now feels like a sad attempt to disguise what you believe is a lack of style or grace. The weight of self-doubt becomes an invisible burden, and you can't shake the feeling that you're not enough, that you may never be enough for someone like Joel.

As you grapple with your internal struggles, a small spark of defiance begins to flicker within you. Perhaps it's time to challenge those self-limiting beliefs, to be bolder than your insecurities allow. Joel's admission has opened a door you never expected, and you find yourself at a crossroads. Despite the echoes of doubt, a newfound courage whispers that maybe, just maybe, you can be more than what you perceive.

Embracing this sudden surge of determination, you make a decision. Instead of letting fear dictate your actions, you choose to confront the uncertainties head-on. Swallowing the apprehension that threatens to hold you back, you turn on your heel and head back to Joel's office. The faint thud of your own heartbeat echoes in your ears as you push open the door.

"Joel," you say, your voice steadier than you anticipated. "I've been thinking about what you said, and I need you to clarify something for me."

He looks up from his desk, curiosity etched across his features. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

You take a deep breath, suppressing the self-doubt that still lingers. "Is that list something you genuinely desire with me, or was it just a drunken fantasy?"

Joel's eyes lock onto yours, a mix of surprise and sincerity in his gaze. "Every word of it is something I want with you. Why?"

A daring smile plays on your lips as you respond, "Then let's not leave it as a list, Joel. Let's see how many of those desires we can turn into reality."

The room seems to hold its breath for a moment as Joel's expression shifts from surprise to a slow, understanding smile. The air thickens with anticipation, leaving the next steps uncertain but filled with the promise of something new and exhilarating. As you stand on the precipice of this unexpected journey, the uncharted waters of possibilities lie ahead, and you find yourself ready to take the plunge.

Taglist: @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115

For more updates on all of my fics, please follow @chiriwritesstuffnotifs

All dividers by @saradika-graphics

[littledata]

what are these "best fics youve ever read that barely have any hits" you mentioned? can you give us a top 5 or sonething?

Oh God, you've really shamed me here because I read a LOT of random fics from fandoms I'm not even part of and the stories I was referring to largely come from there.

However, in the interest of practising what I preach, I sat down today and read a bunch of Warrior Nun fics I'd never read before so I could rec you some. To be totally clear, these aren't necessarily going to have "hardly any hits" but are fics that I think could use more love in general.

In no particular order:

I was seeing black and white (and now I'm living in color) by gayestcatra - 1281 words, a beautifully soft fic set in Switzerland with gorgeous description. By the same author I also enjoyed (your life was) my life's best part, an angsty Mary/Shannon exploring Mary's (heartbreaking) grief after Shannon's death.

Cat’s Cradle security checkpoint logs by @jtl07 - 518 words, have I raved enough on tumblr yet about how much I love their writing? No? Oh okay I'll do it again then. JT is one of my favourite writers in the fandom and I love this series of fics they did giving creative looks into the characters - this particular one is the contents of their bags but the whole series is worth checking out (and everything else they write too, obviously).

Lauds by @sisterdivinium - 3152 words, Mother Superion/Jillian Salvius. WE LOVE A RAREPAIR. Gorgeously written fic where you feel the weight of every single action. The author has a TON of fics if you liked this one too.

you're my best friend (in a world we must defend) by @daisychainsandbowties - 3980 words, avatrice and Pokemon. Beatrice's characterisation in this drives me insane. I MUST know more. If you know nothing about pokemon here's your primer: they're funny little guys you catch and make fight, exactly like the Catholic church did to Ava. There, now you've got no excuse not to read it.

Dead People Don't Shiver by waterintheshadows - 2068 words, avatrice soulmate AU set in a morgue FUCK YEAH. This is the kind of shit I live for. Great concept, great execution.

Where The River Bends by @itchyouchyz - 100,750 words, avatrice 1960s midwife AU. Full disclosure - it's 100k - I haven't finished it yet. But I LOVE what I've read so far, tender and lovely. Check the tags for trigger warnings on this one!

keep me in your mirror (but don't take your eyes off the road) by minutetuna - 26,343 words, avatrice season 2 road trip au. It made me feel this precise emotion: hnnnnnnghhhhh. There is a particular style of writing which is just bouncy and pacy and still draws you into every single emotion and this author has it in spades. LOVE.

This was so much fun! If anyone else wants to hit me up with some recs I'd love to hear them - even if (especially if) they're your fics. It's a long weekend, might as well spend it reading fanfiction.

[brokebonewritings]

Be Mine, Forever?

Matt Murdock x Reader

Tags/ Warnings: 18+, Smut, Fluff, Valentine's Day Special

Summary: Your day is interrupted by an impromptu girl's day. and your night is filled with passion as Matt surprises you for Valentine's Day. You had a surprise for him as well. Song: Here (In Your Arms) - First Dance by Hellogoodbye

Word Count: 4.4K

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The day started normally enough. Of course, Valentine’s day fell on a week day this year so you were stuck at work. You sent Matt a few ‘Good Morning’ and ‘Happy Valentine's Day’ texts, but it's been radio silence from the other end. This was expected though, since he had already informed you that he was going to be in court all day. 

You sit back at your desk, you've been preparing all month for a new exhibit at The Met. The plans that spread across your desk puzzle you as you try to figure out where to place each case and art piece.

As you meticulously arrange the plans for the new exhibit, your mind can't help but wander back to Matt. The silence from him is starting to feel unusual, as he's always been the one to send you sweet messages and surprises on special occasions. But you brush it off, he's never disappointed you.

Just as you're about to finalize the placement of the last art piece, Marci rushes into your office, a mix of urgency and excitement in her eyes. "Hey!"

"How did you get in here?" You respond with a raised eyebrow. "Did my assistant let you in?"

Just as you finish your question Justin, your assistant, rushes in behind her. "I am so sorry. I tried stopping her, but she is so fast in those heels."

"Lawyer walk." Both you and Marci say in unison. 

She turns back to you with a smile plastered on her face. "I need you to come with me for the rest of the day."

"Marci, I can't just leave work in the middle of the day." You cross your arms over your chest.

"Oh yes you can, I already spoke to your boss! So come on." She grabs your coat that's by the door, along with your umbrella. "We got things to do, come on."

You sigh and thank Justin for trying, and invite him to also take the rest of the day off. Which he does happily.

"So what are we even going to do?" You ask. Grabbing your bag, and putting away your belongings.

"Well we're gonna go get ready for our Valentine's Date Nights, duh." She helps you get your coat on, and you both were off. "I just know that Foggy, and Matt are planning something special for us."

You smile at the thought. "Have you heard from Foggy today? I know they had a busy day."

"Not a word. You didn't hear it from me, but apparently their client is very demanding of their time."

"Oh shit, really?" 

You loved the gossip you got from your lawyer friends. Not that it was filled with a ton of details. Client/Lawyer confidentiality and all that.

"Mhm, Needs lots of attention to detail." She says before dragging you into a nail salon. You realize how nice this salon is after looking around. "Hey, wait, I don't think I'm gonna be able to afford this right now. Trying to save up for a new apartment with Matt, remember?"

She laughs before checking the both of you in for the appointment she had already made. "Who said you were paying? It's all on me today, hun."

"Oh my god, no way! I seriously cannot accept this."

"Too late! It's already done, you don't wanna ruin this day for me do you?" She pouts after turning back to you.

You sigh and shake your head. "Thank you, this is incredibly kind of you."

"Don't even mention it. I wanna make sure we both are dolled up!"

You're both called back after about 5 minutes. The salon was nicer than you thought. When you had both settled at the manicure station, they had offered you both a glass of champagne. Who were you not to accept a free glass?

It was truly relaxing, you were glad that Marci got you out of work early. You both spent the next two hours getting your nails prepped for a night out. Usually you don't get long nails since you work with your hands most of the time, but she insisted you get something more elegant. You couldn't refuse since she was the one paying.

Just as the nail technician finished with your right hand, your phone buzzed on the table beside you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Matt's name flashing on the screen. You quickly picked it up and answered, not wanting it to go to voicemail.

"Hey! Happy Valentine's Day!" You chirp happily. "How is court?"

There was a brief pause before Matt's voice came through, heavy with exhaustion. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetheart." It's been chaos. I couldn't even find a moment to catch my breath."

You let out a sigh of relief, understanding his predicament. "Then I guess tonight will be a good night to cash in one of those massages I owe you, huh?"

Hearing the low rumble of his chuckle sent chills through your body. "Yeah, guess it will be." He pauses. "I was wondering if you would meet me on the roof tonight, like we used to?"

"Yeah, of course I will." You blush, it has been a while since you both sat on the roof together. "What time do you want me there?"

"8:30. There is room for you to be fashionably late, of course."

You let out a giggle. "Yeah okay, 8:30 then. I'll see you then."

"I love you." He says with a loving sigh.

"I love you too." You respond before hanging up.

"Soooooo," Marci pipes up. "Romantic Dinner?"

The blush was still tinting your face from the conversation. "Yeah, on his rooftop."

"That sounds lovely, very romantic."

As you finish up at the nail salon, Marci insists on taking you to a cafe nearby. She called it a Galentine's Brunch, just the girls. When you both arrived, you were surprised to see that Karen was able to join you. 

"I thought you were in court with Matt, and Fog?"

"Oh no, I told them I wouldn't be in today. Playing hookie." She laughed lightly. "Besides, Im not going to deny Marci a girls brunch. We need it."

As you settled into the cozy booth at the cafe, sipping on your latte, the three of you began catching up on each other's lives. Karen shared stories about her latest investigative assignment, Marci talked about her recent courtroom victories, and you filled them in on the details of the upcoming exhibit at The Met.

Marci nudges you playfully. "Have you thought about what you're going to wear?" she asks with a mischievous smile.

You shake your head, realizing that you've been so caught up in work and the surprise day off that you haven't even considered your outfit. 

"I just figured I would wear what I was wearing right now."

"You're joking." Marci says. "You have to wear something else. Not saying that what you're wearing right now isn't cute, but this is Valentine's Day."

"Yeah you gotta wear something he can undress you with" Karen chimes in with a mischievous smile. "Cause you know he'll love it if you wore something hot."

"Okay, okay. I have been saving a silk dress for a special occasion."

"Silk? I gotta see this." Marci says forcefully.

You pull out your phone and find the dressing room photo you took of the dress in question. It was a lavender colored dress with a cowl neckline. They both stare at the photo then back to you.

"Where have you been hiding that!" Karen says in disbelief.

"In the back of my closet." You respond with a laugh. "I just didn't know how to style it."

"I will simply just have to come over and help you with that." Marci states. 

"And." You pause. "There's matching lingerie."

They both squeal before you change the subject back to Marci and Foggy's plans for the evening.

You stare in the mirror at the dress you had shown Marci, and Karen earlier in the day.They had left about an hour ago to get ready for their own plans. Not without them giving your outfit their seal of approval though. 

Sitting on your bed, you pull on the heels Marci had carefully chosen. This was going to be a good night, but you didn't know why the butterflies in your stomach felt so prominent. You haven't been this nervous since you started dating Matt.

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that there's nothing to worry about. It's just a rooftop date with the love of your life. You run a hand down the front of your dress, feeling its smooth texture against your skin.

As you do your makeup, you can't help but replay all the beautiful moments you've shared with Matt. From late-night conversations under the stars to stolen kisses on the rooftop, every memory fills you with warmth and love. Tonight is just another chapter in your story together, a celebration of your deep connection.

With your hair styled in loose waves, you stand in front of the full-length mirror and admire the final look. The dress drapes perfectly over your figure, accentuating your best features. You feel confident, more confident than you've felt in years.

You look at the clock on your nightstand, and see that it just hit 8:00. Perfect. You grab your bag and set out walking towards his apartment building.

The city is alive with the energy of Valentine's Day. Lovers walk hand in hand, their laughter and joy filling the air. As you make your way through the bustling streets, you can't help but smile. The anticipation in your heart grows with every step.

Finally, you arrive at Matt's apartment building. Taking a deep breath, you enter and climb the stairs towards the rooftop. The familiar sound of the door creaking open greets you as you step onto the familiar space that holds so many precious memories.

The sun has already set, casting a magical glow over the city skyline. The soft twinkle of lights fills the air, creating an atmosphere that feels straight out of a fairy tale. And there he is, standing near the edge of the rooftop, tall and handsome as ever.

Matt turns as he hears your footsteps approaching. A smile spreads across his face, lighting up his eyes in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. That's when you realize that you're not alone. You turn to see that your friends are there. Not only your friends but also your Aunt May and Peter.

"What is happening right now?" You say with a nervous laugh.

"Sweetheart," You hear him say and you turn back and give him your full attention. "I have been meaning to do this for a while, but I didn't know how to go about it."

"Matt, are you?" You begin before he cuts you off with a kiss.

"Ever since I met you I have been so entranced by you.You've brought so much light and love into my life, and I can't imagine a future without you by my side," Matt says, his voice filled with sincerity. He takes a step back, reaching into his pocket and retrieving a small velvet box. Opening it to reveal a dainty opal ring, he drops to one knee.

You stand there for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening or if you were have a really specific dream.

"Will you marry me?" Matt asks, his voice filled with vulnerability and love.

The world around you seems to fade away as you lock eyes with him, feeling a mixture of excitement and overwhelming joy. The weight of his question hangs in the air, and time seems to stand still.

Tears well up in your eyes as you try to find your voice. This moment feels like a dream, but the warmth in your heart tells you it's all too real. You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the question like a beautiful promise.

"Yes," you whisper, barely able to contain your joy. "Yes, Matt, I will marry you."

The rooftop erupts in cheers and he stands and slips the ring onto your finger. You glance around, realizing that they had all conspired together to create this magical moment. Aunt May wipes away a tear of happiness while Peter grins ear to ear. Marci and Karen are practically jumping up and down with excitement, their eyes shining with joy. Foggy is trying to conceal his tears by wiping his eyes with his sleeves.

Embracing Matt tightly, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude. This rooftop, once a place of solace and refuge for the two of you, now holds even more significance. It symbolizes the foundation of your future together, a place where love can blossom and dreams can be realized.

Amidst the cheers and laughter, you take a moment to soak in the beauty of this milestone in your relationship. The twinkling lights of the city below seem to dance in celebration, mirroring the joy in your hearts.

"This is so epic, and I got it all on video." Peter says amidst the celebration.

As the cheers die down, Aunt May steps forward, her eyes glistening with tears. "Oh, darling" she says, her voice filled with emotion. "I couldn't be happier for you both. You deserve all the love in the world. Your father would have loved Matt."

"Thanks Aunt May." You say with a tearful smile.

As the rooftop continues to buzz with excitement and congratulations, you and Matt share a tender moment together. He pulls you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting. You feel safe and cherished as you rest your head against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in your ears.

"I love you so much," Matt murmurs softly, his voice filled with emotion. "And I promise to spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

You look up at him, your eyes filled with adoration. "I love you too, Matt," you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. "And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

After the shared dinner with all of your friends and family, you all decide it's time to head home to spend the rest of Valentine's Day in the comfort of your homes.

Saying goodbye to everyone, you and Matt clean the roof top and share a few intimate moments with kisses and lingering touches.

On your way back down the stairs, you can feel Matt's presence hovering over you. So you stop for a moment and turn to see what he is doing. As you turn, you feel his hand slide up your jaw as he pushes you against the wall. You gasp as he presses himself against you, one hand around your neck and the other sitting on your waist.

"Ive been waiting all day to be alone with you." He growls into your ear before kissing you roughly.

Your heart races as his lips claim yours, a hunger and desire that electrifies your senses. The intensity of his touch against the coolness of the wall sends shivers down your spine.

His hands explore every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench. The urgency and longing in his kisses leave you breathless.

With each touch, each caress, the connection between you deepens. Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, driven by a love that transcends words.

As he pulls away, you feel dizzy with the intensity of his attack. "We need to get back to your apartment." You state.

"Oh do we?" He questions. "I have no problem ravishing you right here in this stairwell."

You huff, as you stare at his smirking face. "I would actually love for you to ruin this dress, but in the comfort of our bed."

"Our bed?" 

"Yes, our bed." You smirk as you push his hands away and begin to walk back to his apartment.

He follows closely behind you, his eyes never leaving your body. The desire he has for you is palpable, and it fuels you as well. As you pass each door, you can't help but imagine what would happen behind your own.

Approaching his door, you grab the keys from his hand and begin to unlock the door.

"I promise, I'll ruin that dress, right here," he whispers in your ear, causing you to shiver.

You hear the click of it unlocking as you turn to him, "Well, Mr. Devil. Ruin the dress then." you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the door creaks open, the sound echoes throughout the hallway, the anticipation in the air is palpable. Together, you step inside and kick the door shut behind you. He pins you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body like a man possessed.

He seems desperate to claim you, to conquer every inch of you. You're aching for him too, the want and need between you undeniable. You need his touch, his kiss, his warmth. You're completely vulnerable to him, ready to give yourself to him in every way.

His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, his hands holding your neck as your fingers dig into his shirt. You break the kiss, both of you panting heavily, your hearts pounding in sync. 

"I love you so much," you whisper, your voice shaking with emotion.

"And I love you more," Matt replies, his voice filled with warmth and devotion.

With that his hands grip the top of your dress and he pulls, ripping the dress down the front. You moan at the intensity of the moment. He really did ruin the dress.

You're left in the lingerie you had on underneath as the dress drops to the floor. He takes a moment before feeling up your sides and realizes what you have on.

"Oh you dirty girl." He groans. "You wanted this to happen tonight, didn't you?"

You smile, feeling a blush rise to your cheeks. "Maybe I did"

"Well, I'm not complaining." He says slowly. "You have no idea how hard this is making me."

"I think I have some idea." You say as you lift your knee, feeling his erection already straining under the fabric of his pants.

His hand maneuvers down to pull your lingerie to the side, revealing your most intimate parts. "I'm going to make you scream, baby."

With that, he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom. The moment you step into the room, he drops you onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"I want you so bad," he growls into your mouth. You feel his erection pressing into your thigh, and you're more than ready for him.

He breaks the kiss and starts to unbutton his shirt, you lay back watching as he undresses himself. What a sight it was, he could have been a Greek god.

Once he's stripped down to his boxers, he leans down to kiss you again, his hand traveling down your body, tracing patterns on your skin as he does. His fingers run along the edge of your underwear and you shudder at the sensation.

He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and slowly pulls them down, revealing your naked body to him. He leans down and begins to kiss your inner thigh, nuzzling into the most inner part.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his thumbs brushing against your waist.

Before you can respond, his tongue swipes up against your core. You gasp at the sudden electricity of the situation. He repeats the motion, his tongue swirling around your clit in slow, steady circles. Your hips start to rise in response, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. You arch your back, moaning softly.

Matt responds with a gentle growl, his fingers still moving against your waist, caressing your skin. He reaches down and slowly pushes two fingers inside you, drawing out a loud moan.

His other hand moves to your breast, gently squeezing and kneading it. You mewl, your body trembling with need. His tongue continues to dance around your most sensitive flesh, and you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the edge.

"Oh, Matt," you moan, "I need you inside me."

He stops his ministrations, lifting his head towards you. "Not yet," he says, standing up and helping you off the bed. "I want to make you beg for it."

He leads you over to a table by the window, bending you over it. The cool glass feels amazing against your naked skin, as you're exposed to the room with your legs spread apart.

Matt positions himself behind you after dropping his boxers. You can feel his erection pressing against your ass, precum leaking out. You know he's ready for it.

"You're going to make me come so hard," you whisper.

He rubs his tip against your entrance, teasing you, making you crave him even more. Sliding his cock between your folds. You push back against him for any sort of friction.

A loud crack echoes through the apartment. His hand lingers, massaging the area he just spanked. "You need to be a good girl for me. Or else the next one will be a lot harder. Do you understand?"

You nod, pleasure spread across your face as you lean against the table. 

"Good girl, sweetheart. Such a good listener."

Beginning to slide against you once again, you hold back every instinct to push back against him. With every teasing thrust, you feel electrified, your desire for him only growing. He knows what he's doing to you, and he loves every moment.

He slowly begins to tease your hole as you stand there whimpering. Pushing the head inside you, and quickly taking it out.

"Please, Matt, fuck me," you plead. "I can't take it anymore."

He pulls away, a devious grin on his face. "Not yet," he says, kissing the side of your face.

He picks you up, carrying you over to the bed. He lays you down, spreading your legs wide apart and kneeling between them.

"I need you to beg. Okay, sweetheart?" He says and you nod.

He slips two fingers into you, pumping and curling to find your sweet spot. You cry out in pleasure as he hits you right where it feels good. 

"Please, oh god, Matt" You moan loudly. "I'm going to come, please I need you in me."

That must have been enough for him. With a low growl, Matt plunges into you, filling you up to the hilt. He thrusts deep inside you in one swift motion, the bed frame creaking under the force of his passion.

He pulls out almost immediately, leaving you emptiness. "Please," you beg, wanting more.

He chuckles softly, teasing you by running his cockhead up and down your slit. "Patience, sweetheart. I want this to last."

He thrusts back into you, moving slowly, savoring every moment. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

The way his cock pulsed inside of you was almost too much to bear. He began to pick up the pace, each thrust harder than the last.

You let out a loud, trembling moan, your head falling back as pleasure washed over you. 

"I love you," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you too," you choke out, the emotions taking over you.

He picks up his pace, driving into you harder and faster, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. Your body responds in kind, each thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you.

"I'm going to come," you gasp, your voice breaking as your orgasm starts to build.

Matt's thumb found your sensitive clit, sending you soaring towards the edge. "Come for me, baby." he growls.

You let out a wail, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your inner walls clenched around him, milking him as you shook uncontrollably.

He continued to thrust into you, driving you further over the edge. Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body writhing beneath him in pure ecstasy.

Finally, he slides out of you, leaving your inner walls quivering. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as your heartbeats sync.

You lay there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking.

"My ass hurts." You after taking a deep breath. He begins to chuckle as you giggle. 

"Sorry, too much?"

"Not at all."

"Good" He says as he pulls you closer and peppers your face with kisses.

As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, your skin still flushed and sweaty, you can't help but smile. This was more than just sex; it was a powerful expression of love and intimacy.

Matt pulls away and smiles, a look of pure contentment on his face. "I just can't get enough of you." 

You giggle and wrap your arms around him, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.

"Can we talk about the fact that we're engaged now?"

"I've been planning it for the last 2 weeks with Foggy, Peter, and your Aunt May."

"There is no way that Peter kept a secret for that long. How did you even manage that."

"You can thank your aunt for that one. She basically grounded him from texting you."

This made you both laugh. "You know, I'm gonna have to get used to being called Mrs. Murdock."

A smile spreads across his face, "I'm already getting used to it."

As he pulls you in for another kiss, you can't help but feel a rush of emotion. This man. This strong, protective, and passionate man, is now your fiancé. The thought brings a smile to your face, and you wrap your arms around him even tighter.

"I can't wait to see what the future holds for us," you whisper.

He pulls away slightly, a gentle smile on his face. "The future is ours, my love. And I promise to love and cherish you, always."

"Though I do have one complaint."

"And what is that?" He raises an eyebrow.

"You never asked me to be your valentine."

Chuckling, he pulls your hips closer before whispering in your ear. "Be Mine, Forever?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

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[justmystyles]

literally just came up with this so suddenly but imagine plusiszereader being like an old member of the band or something. like she was apart of the love band back in 2021 but left just to do her own stuff BUT her and harry have been in a relationship since then. it’s obvi private but fans like absolutely love and miss her. then, for the final show when harry is doing the 10 minute ballad she comes out as one of the flute players for one last show and people just going nuts.

then at the end just a shit ton of love dovey stuff like them both crying and comforting each other cause its the final show.

OH LORD IM DELULU YALL

Heart Song

read my other work here!

pairing: Harry Styles x plus size reader

*i say it's a plus size reader, but it is not something that i focus on explicitly in my fics, because your size should not define you. it will only come up if it comes into the story organically.*

word count: 1.7k

summary: as a former member of the Love on Tour band, and current girlfriend of Harry, he asks you to reprise your spot for the final show.

a/n: this was such a cute ask, thank you so much for sending it! this is the last final show fic i have planned for the time being. who knows what the future holds? i'm trying to catch up on asks, so if you're waiting on one that you've sent in, keep an eye out!

tags: @allthelovehes @ameerakane20 @ash-craze @bethanysnow @blue-ballad @blueraspberryreader @brightlightsinlife @creativelyeva @cute-as-ducks420 @deannaard @fanficismydrug @gem1712 @golden-hoax @gothmingguk @groovychaosavenue @hillzrry @iceebabies @indierockgirrl @jerseygirlinca @jng4kook @jooniesbabie @kaverichauhan @laurxn-robinson @lexiecamposv @likeapplejuicenpeach @lilfreakjez @mrs-anna-styles211994 @n0vaj3an @potterheadandsherlocked @rach2699 @ravenclawdirectioner @stylesfeverr @superchrystaldrug @tenaciousperfectionunknown @tiaamberxx @thechaoticjoy @theekyliepage @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @youknowwhaaat

You sit on the piano bench beside your boyfriend, at a complete loss for words at the song he just played for you. He had been so excited to show you what he was working on, he said that it was a song for his fans, that he wanted to play it for them at his last Love on Tour show.  

“Is it… do you like it?” He asked tentatively. 

“Baby, it’s so beautiful. No words?” He shook his head. “It’s perfect.” 

He grins, his dimples making your heart melt. “Well, almost.” You give him a curious look. “It could use some accompaniment, perhaps a flute?” He said with a wink. 

“Who, me?” Harry laughs at your reaction. “But I haven’t been in your band for a year and a half.”

He takes your hand in his. “And I’ve missed you every show. So have the rest of the band, and the fans too.” 

“I don’t know, Harry.” 

“Please, baby?” He pleaded. “This has been such a huge tour for me. For us. We fell in love on this tour, it would mean the world to me if you were by my side when it was ending.” 

Your expression softened at his words, he was right. You had been hired to play in his band, and got so much more than you bargained for when the two of you fell for each other. You fell hard and fast, but before you knew it, you were saying goodbye to Love on Tour. You had only signed on temporarily, leaving to pursue some solo work. Just because you said goodbye to the tour, didn’t mean you were saying goodbye to Harry. The two of you maintained your relationship, keeping it out of the public eye, allowing Harry a modicum of privacy.  

You let out a sarcastic sigh. “Well, I suppose I am going to be there anyway. I was looking forward to just being an audience member, but I guess I could pop onstage for a few minutes.” 

Harry threw his arms around you, pulling you into his embrace. “I love you so much, thank you thank you thank you!” 

After finishing Fine Line, Harry retreated to the backstage area to prepare for the encore. This was your cue to head back there yourself to prepare for his final song. Before you head into the changing area, you rush over to the wings, hoping to catch him before he goes back onstage. 

You finally see him, he’s pacing, clearly trying to compose himself. You pause for a moment, debating whether or not you want to bother him, but when his eyes lock on yours you feel drawn to him like a magnet. 

“How are you holding up?” You ask, brushing a loose curl out of his face. 

He shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “It’s almost over.” 

“I know baby,” you place your hand on his cheek, stroking gently. “You’ve still got a few more songs, go out there and give it everything you’ve got.” 

“You’re still coming on for the finale?” He asks hopefully. 

“It’s why I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m gonna run and go change real quick.” 

“If I send someone to get your jumpsuit for you, do you think you could just throw it on here?” He pleads. “I need you close while I’m out there. You make me stronger.” 

You smile softly, placing your lips against his in a soft kiss. “Whatever you need, Harry, always.” 

He smiles gratefully, kissing you once more before running up to one of the production assistants, and instructing him to get your outfit and flute from his dressing room. He returns to you, taking your hands in his. “It’ll be here in a second. Thank you, my love.”

“Nothing to thank,” you say plainly. “Nowhere I’d rather be. Now get out there and knock ‘em dead.” 

He brought your hands to his lips, kissing the backs of them, and headed back onstage. You followed as far as you could without being seen so that you could watch his final few songs. You looked on proudly as he gave his all. 

You loved this man with all your heart but more than that, as a musician you admired him more than anything. His dedication to his craft, and his fans, was unwavering. Time and time again he would give himself to everyone, first with the heartfelt music he would write; and then dedicating nearly two years of his life to traveling the world in an effort to bring that music to his fans. 

The PA that Harry had sent to retrieve your things promptly returned, handing you your things. You thanked him quickly, not wanting to take your eyes off of Harry. You slip your jumpsuit on over your clothes, and change into the custom Love on Tour adidas sneakers that had been made for the band. 

Kiwi ended, and Harry waved and bowed to the crowd before running offstage and immediately into your arms. 

“You were amazing, Harry. I’m so proud of you.” You whisper to him. You feel him nod against your neck in reply. 

You allow him a few more moments of comfort before you know you need to set yourself on stage. The band had stayed out there, getting position for this final song. “Baby?” You ask softly, getting his attention as you step back from your embrace. “I’ve gotta get out there, you going to be okay?” 

Harry nods, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “You’ll be close, yeah?” 

You smile at him, placing a comforting hand on his cheek. “Right next to the piano.” You give him one last kiss and make your way to the stage. 

You step out, smiling and nodding at your former bandmates, hearing the whispers and questions from the crowd start to pick up.

“Is that Y/N?”

“He must have asked her to come back for the last show.” 

“But why is she only coming out now?” 

The murmurs quickly turn to cheers when they realize that it is in fact you on stage. This meant that whatever was about to happen was definitely going to be something big. As you waited for Harry to re-emerge, you looked out over the crowd. You had been in the thick of it during the show, but seeing it from the stage was an entirely different experience. 

As you were admiring the hordes of people who had come out just to see Harry, you were pulled from your thoughts by an eruption from the crowd. You looked to your left and watched Harry return to stage, quickly wiping away the remnants of the tears he had shed backstage. 

He took a seat at the piano, looking up at you. When you looked back, you saw a storm of emotions, but mostly you saw vulnerability. Harry was never one to shy away from expressing emotions onstage, but this was different. 

He spoke a few quick words in Italian before moving the microphone away and beginning to play. You had heard him play this song so many times since he had initially brought it to you a few weeks ago, but hearing it like this, as he intended it to be, was an unreal, once in a lifetime experience. The crowd of over one hundred thousand people were completely silent, everyone’s attention directed at Harry. 

You felt a nudge, and your attention quickly turned to your right. You saw the rest of the band preparing to come in, and you remembered that you were there to do a job. Your time just being the supportive girlfriend was on pause, you had to be a musician now. You lifted your flute to your lips, and joined in, your eyes never leaving Harry. 

Before long, the last note was played, and Harry stood from the piano. The crowd burst into cheers and applause like you’d never heard before. He bowed to the crowd before turning to face the band, mostly to express his gratitude to them, but you knew it was also a chance for him to compose himself. 

His eyes locked on you, and he immediately started moving in your direction, wrapping you in his arms. You returned the embrace, rubbing soothing circles over the bejeweled fringe on his back. 

“You did amazing, Harry.” You tell him. “This is all for you, go take it in. You deserve it.” 

He pulls back and gives you a tearful smile before taking your hand and walking to the center of the stage, signaling for everyone else to join. The group takes a bow to thunderous applause. As you all stand, Harry steps forward, drinking in every second of the fanfare. He moved to either end of the stage, thanking the fans by waving and blowing kisses. When he returns to center stage, he pauses again this time dropping to his knees, his hands covering his face. Completely overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment. 

Even though the band is sharing their own moment, hugging and congratulating each other, you are frozen in place, eyes locked on Harry. You were so focused on him that you didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your face. 

When he finally stood, he gave the crowd one more smile and wave before turning to exit the stage. As soon as he turned around, he saw you and smiled walking straight for you. You both moved at the same time, cupping each other’s faces in your hands wiping the other’s tears away with your thumbs. Chuckling at the synchronized movements. 

You pulled him into your arms, and his face immediately nuzzled into your neck. You could feel the moisture from the new tears dropping onto your skin. 

“I’m so proud of you, Harry.” You coo. “It couldn’t have gone any better.” 

He pulled back to look at you. “Thank you for being here.” 

“Nowhere I’d rather be.” You state plainly. He smiles and starts leaning in toward your lips. You jerk back quickly. “Baby, we’re still onstage.” 

“Don’t care,” he leans back in, pressing his lips to yours in a slow kiss. 

You pull away with a smile. “Ready?” 

He nodded silently, stepping out of your embrace and turning to the crowd one last time to blow them a final farewell kiss. He then took your hand and led you off the stage and into your new post-tour life. 

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and hero of cookies final part

All work words count: 14 643 Words in this part: 244 Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway This part summary: What happened to Dani (author needs a certificate for being little shit) Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

Dani packed her stuff as soon as she got back from patrol. While doing it, she called Tuck and Sam to coordinate travel plan with them and to make sure she heard where and when correctly. Danny’s birthday were coming, an alien’s autograph would be a good present. Unfortunately she wouldn’t have time to get any of his merch on her way so the sky map she printed in Gotham’s Public Library would have to make it. Because of Sam’s demand she stocked herself in protein bars, other high calorie snacks and tons of drinks. Guy at the register looked disturbed but correctly guessed it wasn’t his business. Thanks for physics meets magic mess that made her backpack lighter. It worked like thermos in a way, though she didn’t even try to understand it.

This flight was going to be challenge not only to her speed but also, mostly, her stamina.

Ancients let her survive.

*

Turns out, phones couldn’t survive falling from over a hundred feet at around 60 miles per hour. Well she had all important numbers (Jazz, Val, Tuck, Sam non- and yes-emergency Danny) on paper phased inside her hip. From Sam’s money she could buy one in Los Angeles and explain the change of number then. She would have to come up with an excuse though.

She wasn’t going to admit she got distracted and bumped into a bunch of pigeons, got startled and dropped her phone like a silly child.

********

I know I could and should post it with previous part but I wanted to build the tension.

Batfam: We will finally meet our almost niece! Dani: Oh, look, plot convienient reason to leave city fast! Dani was setting up most intense and insane work-out playlist known to mankind to get her through her journey when she bumped with these pigeons face first

Starting notes are longer than this part.

Shit, I really should put it with previous part but the tension and potential for drama aaaa I couldn't resist

and @audhumla-sailor is an enabler

Tag list: @pickleking8 @mynameisnotlaura

[aziraphales-library]

After season 2 I'm Dying for a fix it fic! Does anyone have a one shot or finished fix it fic yet?

We now have #good omens s2 and #fix-it tags which I am sure are going to get full up in no time. Here are more fix-it fics for you...

symptoms of demonpox (otherwise known as heartbreak) by jilliancares (G)

Maybe that was Aziraphale’s first action as the new archangel in charge: I hereby declare that demons can now contract demonpox. Symptoms include wet and burning eyes, shortness of breath, an uncomfortable tightness in the chest, and an all-encompassing sense of impending doom. That would certainly explain it. Or: Crowley wonders if he'll ever be happy again. (He will.) (They're both idiots.) Immediately following the events of Season 2, Episode 6.

The Nature of Sorry by Verayne (T)

"Oh, Crowley." The angel takes a step further into the bookshop, words tumbling out in an unpractised rush. "I didn't even make it halfway up the lift before I realised what a terrible mistake I was making." Crowley can feel Aziraphale's eyes on him. If he looks they'll be big and shiny and pleading, exquisitely beseeching in his regret. So he doesn't look. He's heard the words before, near enough. Seen the expression before, too. Fool him once, and all that.

The Trinity by spacemutineer (T)

After leaving Earth (and Crowley) behind, Aziraphale finds Heaven cold but Jesus Christ remarkably warm and kind. Jesus needs a miracle to help humanity, but he needs Crowley and Aziraphale together again to do it.

Where The Furniture Used To Be by Magpie_BKK (T)

The Bentley has mysteriously brought Crowley back to central London, just as an old friend turns up at the bookshop. But not everything is as it appears, and Crowley finds himself on the run with an amnesiac angel, trying to unlock his memories along the way.

From Eden by blondecoffeecup (T)

“Besides,” Aziraphale added, his voice softening considerably, “I’ll take care of you.” Crowley grimaced, averting his gaze as if in shame. “It’s rotten work.” “Not to me,” Aziraphale breathed out, his heart twisting in his chest until he could barely find the room to breathe. He moved Crowley towards him to press their foreheads together, holding him close, pressing the gentlest of kisses to the bridge of the demon’s nose. “Not if it’s you.” Aziraphale returns to London after realizing the corruption in Heaven cannot be fixed, and seeks out Crowley in an attempt at reconciliation. Crowley doesn't believe him, thinking he's only there to trick him and then leave again, and Aziraphale finds himself expressing his apology in a less-than-conventional way - and really, how does a demon say no to his angel when said angel is on his knees, pleading for forgiveness in the way that a sinner would do to their God? (ft. Nina yelling at Aziraphale, a shit ton of Biblical symbolism, and, of course, the obligatory Hozier lyric title)

Something smells …….. evil by Angelica_Tree (G)

Left behind on Earth, Crowley dives straight for the nearest bottle, but a week later he finds himself sobering up. Something was very wrong the last time he saw Aziraphale. The angel hadn’t acted like he usually would, and the flashes of love he usually sent Crowley’s way were gone as well. Crowley needs allies to get to the bottom of it, and one of the allies is found in the unlikeliest place.

- Mod D

[belovedstarrs]

do you even care?!

• pairing : geto x fem!reader

• tags : angst, breakup??, just a shit ton of one-sided fighting (verbal) , language galore, drinking mentioned & used, cheating, geto never betrays jujutsu high au.

• a/n : god im half asleep writing this and i havent proof-read sooooo deal w/ it i just need to actually post and get over this writing slump.

• w/c : 602

• loosely based off of all too well & youre losing me

you were laying in your bed and pondering. suguru hasnt been home in hours and he told you he was gonna be home at 5 pm, its 10 pm. you checked his location and he turned it off a few hours ago.

you heard the keys jangle in the doorknobs and you quickly got up, you didnt even know what you wanted to say to him. you looked out your doorframe and saw him taking off his shoes at the front entrance as you angrily walked over.

"suguru what the hell! where the fuck where you at? you turned off your damn location. you know what nevermind you were probably at the bar with gojo flirting with some girls since you clearly dont give a shit about me."

it all blurted out, you felt like throwing up. why now? suguru had to take a minute to process everything from you talking to fast. "y/n i wasnt flirting with any girls nor at the bar. i just had gotten a new mission right before i got off and my phone had died." he said with no emotion in his voice. you could tell it was a lie. just by the way he looks uneasy you can tell hes been drinking.

"oh stop giving me that bullshit suguru. if you dont like me just fucking say it. i dont get how you can just cheat on me yet still have the balls to say the words i love you." you wanted to die. you used to love this man with your whole life, why is this happening? why does he lie to you so much.

the past 3 months have felt like hell. sugurus been getting more distant and staying out later than he tells you while getting drunk. you dont fucking get it. why is he doing this? what have you done to deserve this? youve put so much into this relationship and hes tearing it apart like its nothing.

he doesnt even have a response to your stinging words. "y/n i promise i still lov-" you quickly cut him off. "you dont ever keep your promises! stop spouting shit that isnt true for once! your just an asshole liar." you pause for a moment before you continue

"why have you put nothing into our relationship? did you never love me from the start? ive been trying so fucking hard to still love you and act as nothing is wrong and ive tried to tell you that but youre just a dumbass!" you brush shoulders as you go to the front door to quickly put on your shoes and a coat to leave. making sure to grab your keys and get the hell out before he says anything.

there was this burning feeling in your chest that also felt like a little freedom. were you meant to not be with suguru? you wished so hard in your head he would come back for you and apologize, make it right. you kept walking down the street and nothing happened.

you pulled out your phone to text utahime and ask if you could stay the night.

y/n : utahime you awake?

utahime : yeah. why?

y/n : just fought with suguru. wondering if i could stay the night.

utahime : totally! stay for as long as you need.

that gave you some relief. your gonna have to figure out you and sugurus situation but for now you need time to yourself to figure out what the hell youre gonna do with him since you two live together and dont have a actual apartment of your own.

part 2 is out now!!

made by @belovedstarrs do not copy or use in any way without permission

[thoseboysinblue]

My Type

Part 2

Christian Pulisic x reader

You have a chance encounter with Christian, who happens to be just your type.

Word count: 2400+

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing, drinking

Part 1

"Elllls" you groan collapsing onto the bed beside her, "we have a problem."

"Are you too hungover to function? Because I'm too hungover to function right now," she says turning to face you, "can you turn off the sun please?" she whines as you let out a small laugh.

"No, well yes, I'm hungover and feel like I could die, but I also have a slightly bigger problem," you say, handing her your phone so that she can see the notification.

"Oh shit," she grins, "I told you he'd find you."

"Yeah, I have no clue how he managed that though," scrolling through pictures you were tagged in from the night before. "Damn it Ella, you fucking tagged him didn't you" you huff at her. "I might have, but I didn't actually think he'd see it, he must get a million notifications a day, he was obviously looking for you" she smirks as she gets her own phone out.

"What am I going to fucking do, I can't accept that, but it would be rude not to wouldn't it?"

"Why can't you accept a follow request, y/n, maybe he likes you, and at the very least, it would be a fun story to tell," she chuckles.

"He's got 7 million followers, Ells, that's why, a follow from him is just asking for it," you sigh.

"Maybe it's him asking for it," she winks at you, "for the love, it's just an Instagram request, not a marriage proposal, accept it, see what happens."

"I could kill you for this," you roll your eyes at her.

"Or you can thank me for it" she giggles.

Ella is busy typing away on her phone as you hit accept on his request, not bothering to follow him back.

"Damn it" she sighs, "our boat for today cancelled, I'm going to try to get us booked onto something else." You nod at her, "that sucks, want me to look for something, I hate for you to be the one dealing with this on your bachelorette party, but we can always just do another beach day if it doesn't work out."

"No, I think I've got something else lined up," she smiles.

What you didn't know is, she'd woken up to an Instagram message from Christian:

Christian: hey, thanks for the tag 😉

Ella: hey, no problem, she's already threatened to kill me so you better be worth it 🙄

Christian: I will be, promise. 😇 So, I don't want to crash your party or anything, but what are you guys plans for the day?

Ella: Well, we had a boat booked, but that seems to have fallen through, so maybe just another beach day unless I can find a last minute booking.

Christian: It could be your lucky day...I happen to have a boat, and jet skis, and a pool, and I can have a fully stocked bar if you'll tell me what you guys like to drink. But really, I don't want to crash your party, so no pressure to accept or anything ☺️

Ella: I mean, are you sure you don't mind?

Christian: not at all, really, I'll get some food ordered too, guessing you guys are as hungover as we are, what about drinks?

Ella: we've got tons of alcohol with us we can bring, so just whatever you want will work 😉 you sure you're ok with this?

Christian: Positive. Here's the address. 📍 couple of hours?

Ella: yeah, I'll get this lot moving. See you then, hope this isn't a complete disaster 😭

"Girls," Ella shouts, "we've had a change of plans, our boat cancelled so I've got another one lined up, but it's a 40 minute drive, so we need to be ready for the minibus to pick us up in an hour."

You hear everyone groan and start shuffling around to get ready. After showering, you pull on a fuschia bikini that complements your sun kissed skin perfectly, and leaves very little to the imagination as well as some shorts and a sheer top. You pack your bag for the boat, throwing in your towel, sunscreen, AirPods and a book for when you inevitably need to drown out the rest of the group.

You head to the kitchen and fix mimosas figuring the fastest way to cure your hangover is to have a little bit of a buzz again. After a couple of drinks you all head to your waiting minibus. You climb into the back, listening to everyone chatter about the guys you'd met last night and mostly dodging questions about Christian, the group still none the wiser to who he actually is.

You pop in your headphones and lay your head against the seat and doze off on the drive. When you feel the bus come to a stop you wake up and look around at the clearly residential area you are in, a couple of the girls squeal when they see a few people come out of the house you are at, and Ella turns to you "don't kill me, please" she begs.

"Ella, what the fuck?" you roll your eyes, even though she can't see them through your sunglasses. "Our boat really did cancel and he offered," she smiles devilishly at you. "If this wasn't your party, I'd fucking kill you" you grit your teeth at her as she pulls you from the van.

"It will be fun, I promise," she smiles again, trying to encourage you, "you look hot by the way," she wiggles her eyebrows as Christian walks over and she gives him a quick hug. "Thanks for saving the day," she smiles sweetly at him as he nods, his eyes completely focused on you.

"No problem, glad I could help" he grins at her as she turns to go into the house, "the pool is out back, there's breakfast and drinks waiting in the kitchen," he shouts after her, still not taking his eyes off of you. "Hey, y/n" he offers you a smile leaning in to kiss you on the cheek before you bring your hand to his chest to stop him, " hey, Christian" you mutter pushing past him to head into the house.

Once inside, you grab something to eat, a hard seltzer, and some water before heading out to the pool. You find a lounge chair away from everyone and lay your towel down before shimmying out of your shorts and shirt. You lay down on the chair, popping your headphones back in and turning on some music as you watch everyone through your sunglasses.

You see Christian wander out of the house, shirtless with his swimming trunks slung low over his hips as he talks to a few of the others, damn he looks good, too good, you think to yourself as he scans around, smirking when he sees you. You know he can't see you watching him, but your cheeks flush when you've presumably been caught staring.

A few minutes later, he comes over and sits on the chair next to you, picking your phone up to see what you are listening to before turning off your bluetooth function so that the music is now coming through the speaker of your phone. "Do you mind?" you quip at him, it coming out a little more harsh than you intended. "I like this song" he says, unbothered by your apparent indifference, as you pull your earbuds from your ears and put them back in the case.

You both sit in silence for several minutes, listening to the music, your heart hammering away in your chest as you try really hard not to completely freak out over the fact that this trip is going very differently than you thought it would. "Can I ask you a question?" he says continuing to look straight ahead, his eyes also shielded by a pair of sunglasses, his arms folded behind his head. "I'm guessing you're going to ask your question no matter what I say, so go ahead," you answer him.

"Did you already have that jersey, or did you just buy it for this trip," he smirks turning to look at you, his eyes raking up and down your body as his lips part slightly, tongue grazing along the lower one.

"Neither actually, borrowed it from my brother," you say, turning over and adjusting your chair so that you could lay on your stomach, giving him a good view of your ass that's barely covered by the bottoms you're wearing. "So your brother is a fan, that sounds like a win for me" he chuckles as you roll your eyes and shake your head. He quickly realizes the current view he has of your ass isn't going to do him any favors, so he decides to get in the pool, but before he does he leans down to say lowly in your ear, "be careful in this Florida sun, y/n, you don't want to get burned." He runs and does a cannonball into the pool splashing you in the process, to which you just raise your middle finger in his general direction and hear him let out a hearty laugh.

After a while, you sit up and decide you probably should put on some more sunscreen. You chug down about half of your water and then set about rubbing yourself down. Just as you finish with your front side, Christian comes back over and sits down, offering you another of the hard seltzers you'd been nursing. You take it from him and mumble a thanks, cracking it open and taking a long drink.

"Do me?" he says nonchalantly. "Pardon?" you sputter nearly choking on your drink. "Sunscreen, I need some, I can feel my shoulders burning," he smirks cocking an eyebrow at you. You start to hand him the tube of sunscreen but he shakes his head at you, "my hands are full" he says, holding up his beer and phone. You roll your eyes and sit down behind him, your legs draped over each side of the chair so that he's sitting between them.

You take a deep breath and squeeze some of the sunscreen out onto your fingers, slowly starting to work it onto his shoulders and back, smirking to yourself at the low moan he lets slip past his lips. "Can I ask you a question?" you say quietly as you continue trailing your hands over his exposed upper body. "Mmmhmm" he says as his head falls forward completely lost in the feel of your hands on him. "Why are you doing this?"

His head snaps back up and he turns to look at you, "Doing what?"

"This, inviting us here, giving up whatever plans you had to spend the day with a bachelorette party of people you don't know?"

"Well, I actually didn't have any plans to give up, we are doing exactly what I was going to do no matter if we had other people over or not, and my new bff Ella, was in a crisis and needed a boat, which I happen to have," he grins at you.

"Have I done something to upset you?" he says, taking the sunscreen from you and gesturing for you to switch places with him. He scoots backwards, giving you a place to sit between his legs as he starts to rub some onto your shoulders. "No, I'm not upset, just not sure what I'm doing here," you mumble, "surely you've got other prospects you could be entertaining."

Your breath hitches as he slides his hands under the strings on the back of your bikini, "maybe I do, and maybe I don't, but is it so bad to think that just maybe, I wanted to get to know you a little better, you aren't like anyone I've met, and that intrigues me."

"Why, because I'm not throwing myself at you?" you scoff.

"That is a bit refreshing actually," he chuckles. "But, no, it's not just that, I'd be willing to bet we have a lot more in common than you think, y/n."

"What could we possibly have in common, Christian? We are obviously from two very different worlds," you sigh. "Well, for starters, I think we both prefer to stay home over going to a night club, if I'm remembering what your friend said about you last night correctly." You let out a huff, knowing it's true and start to stand up to move back to your chair but he settles one hand over your waist and squeezes lightly, letting you know he doesn't want you to move just yet.

"I'd also say we have similar taste in music judging by your playlist," he grins, "and your brother is a fan so I'm wondering if you've watched me play?"

"Maybe I have, maybe I haven't," you quip, not giving in to his not so subtle attempts at flirting.

"We also now share our best friend Ella," he chuckles, "and she loves me, she even followed me back on Instagram, unlike some people."

"So is that what this is about? Is your pride a little hurt that I didn't already follow you, or at least follow you back?" you laugh quietly, "Ella is a hopeless romantic, of course she followed you wanting to play cupid."

"Are you not a hopeless romantic?" he says, turning you around to face him. "No, I'm far too jaded for that. I told you last night, I didn't think I was what you were looking for in that bar, and I still believe that to be true, if you're looking for a hook up, I'm probably not your girl, and god knows if you want more than that, I'm definitely not it."

"What if I said, I wasn't looking for anything? But that maybe I found something I wasn't expecting, even if that's just a friendship," he says, pulling his sunglasses off so that you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

"Then I might believe you."

"Look, I noticed you before I realized what you were wearing last night, that jersey just happened to give me a reason to talk to you. I'm not asking you for anything, y/n, just give me a chance, please."

"I guess I can do that," you offer him a small smile, seeing his expression light up.

"Really?" he asks, as you nod in response. "Wanna ride?" he says with a smirk, noticing your expression change slightly. "On the boat, y/n, get your mind out of the gutter," he chuckles as you shake your head at him, clearly lost for a response. "There are several ways I'd like to render you speechless, but for now, I'm just asking if you'd like to go out on the boat with me."

@chelseagirl98 @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona

[lvrsparadise]

16 OR 17 WITH MATT OR CHRIS I BEG I LOVE YOUR WRITING 🙏🏻🙏🏻

'CLAUSTROPHOBIA' - C.S

Synopsis - “Breathe, it’s okay. I’m right here,”

Warnings! - Profanity, claustrophobia, crying, panic attack.

A/N - not really disclosed on whether or not chris and Y/N are dating, use your imagination, they don’t kiss. Wrote like, all of this in class (on that grind fr). My PC laptop is working now (thank god) and I had a scare with my proxy today (the 3rd). Thank you anon!!

“No fucking way.” 

I snap my head to the sound of the door clicking shut, locking us in.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. 

I put my hand on the nearest wall, stabilizing myself, suddenly feeling dizzy.

“Y/N? Hey, you alright?”

I place my hand over my chest, trying to calm both my breathing and my rapidly beating heart, shaking my head. I glance at the door and quint my eyes, barely able to see in the dark.

There’s no handle. Fuck. Because of course there isn’t.

Chris seems to notice I’m looking at the door, glancing at it as well.

“Shit.”

Yeah, shit.

“Hey, hey.” He places his hands on my shoulders, one on one of my cheeks, turning my gaze away from the door and to his face.

“Breathe, it’s okay. I’m right here.”

Doesn’t feel like it. It feels like the walls are squishing me, and the roof is caving in. Feels like a ton of bricks on my chest. On my arms, legs, and head. 

But, I still try to breathe, try to match his deep breaths.

“Breathe with me. Come on, you can do it.” I can feel his thumb gently rubbing my cheek, wiping away any tears that slip out of my eyes.

I attempt to match his rhythm, and fail miserably.

Then, I'm being pulled into his arms, which should comfort me, but it doesn’t. It still feels like I’m being squished between four walls.

I place my hands on his chest and try to push him away.

Thankfully, he gets the clue and lets go of me. His brows furrow, but he soon unfurrows them, finally getting what I mean. I swallow and shake my head. He just nods in response.

“I- I” I can’t speak. No matter how hard I try to force the words out, nothing does.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Hey, hey! Breathe, breathe.” He takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. I try to follow.

By the fourth try, I succeed in a full deep breath with no interruption.

“There we go. Come one.” He continues taking in deep breaths, ultimately helping me calm down.

“Th-thank you.”

“Of course.” He says as he presses a kiss to my forehead.

--

“Now we wait for the help.” He mumbles as the line goes dead from the call he was on with Matt. 

Thank god this closet had service. Or else I don’t think we would’ve gotten out until tomorrow.

I sigh and lean my head back on his shoulder as he sits back down, him laying his head on mine.

“I just want to get out.”

“I know you do.” He laces his hand with mine and we wait.

--

After we make it home and all that jazz, I plop down, well more like flop down on Chris's bed, curling in the familiarly comfortable sheets and comforter.

"That's my bed."

"And I, don't care." I huff out as I get under the blankets and settle in the middle of it, feeling oh so tired from this afternoons events.

I hear him let out a huff before I feel the bed sink and arms around my curled-up body.

"Mm" I hum as I settle closer to him.

"Thank you for helping me through my panic attack earlier today."

"Of course. I mean, what am I for?"

I chuckle and let myself drift off, comfortably.

Tags ! ✮

@dwntwn-strnlo ✮ @ssturniolo ✮ @strniolo ✮ @20nugs ✮ @prettysturniolo ✮ @mxqdii ✮ @thetriplets3 ✮ @slaysturniolo ✮ @gwenlore ✮ @opheliaofficial07 ✮ @gabbylovesreading ✮

If you want to be added to the list, all you have to do is ask ! ✮

I love ll of you guys !

And I hope you all have a good day and / or night ✮

[fereldanwench]

OC Interview - Valerie Powell

I was tagged by @gloryride forever ago to interview my girl--Thank you, bb! I'm so late to doing this that I'm not gonna tag anyone else, but feel free to yoink it if you wanna do it!

[Answers are directly from Valerie's POV before the heist in 2077.]

.ೃ࿔*:･ NAME?

Valerie Irene Powell. [laughs] Yeah, my initials are VIP. My dad had a dorky sense of humor, and my mom let him get away with it. "Irene" is my great-grandmother's first name on her side of the family.

.ೃ࿔*:･ NICKNAME?

Pretty much just "V" these days, which was all Jackie's doing. A lot of the staff and some regulars at Nishimura's used to call me "Blue," but that was ages ago. Overly familiar acquaintances who don't know me well but think they do usually call me "Val."

.ೃ࿔*:･ GENDER?

Biologically female, no gender alterations or augmentations.

A/N - Valerie is a cis woman, but I don't see that specific language being in her vernacular.

.ೃ࿔*:･ STAR SIGN?

I was born in Night City on October 12 2041. Misty tells me that makes me a, uh--Hey, Misty, what am I again?

[Misty, calling from the other room: Libra Sun with a Taurus Moon and Scorpio Rising!]

Yeah, that. [laughs] Whatever the hell that even means.

.ೃ࿔*:･ HEIGHT?

Tall. 5'10" or 178 cm. And I admit I have a weakness for a sexy pair of heels, so I usually look a lot taller.

.ೃ࿔*:･ ORIENTATION?

People are out here fucking cyborgs with four eyes and chicks with gold dicks and electric nipples--What does this even mean? [laughs] I've never given it much thought. I like what I like, and I've liked a lot of different types of people with a lot of different things going on. [laughs again]

A/N: I say Valerie is bi, because that is the contemporary real-life word that best reflects her sexuality for me when I'm talking about her, but when I was really thinking about it from her POV and in the context of her world, I don't think she'd be too hung up on a label. She'd also probably see her wide spectrum of attraction as closer to the default, not the exception.

.ೃ࿔*:･ NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY?

I'm a typical American mutt. My dad's side of the family can mostly be traced back to Western Europe--my grandmother told me "Powell" is an Anglicized form of an old Welsh surname--and my mom's side is from the Eastern Mediterranean. Dad's side has been in NUSA for a long time (like two centuries before it was even called NUSA), but Mom's family has only been here for a few generations.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVE FRUIT?

I just love fresh fruit. It's such a rare treat in Night City--I'll take fresh strawberries or melons over any other kind of sweet treat.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVE SEASON?

Spring! When everything starts turning green and flowers are blooming. There aren't a ton of places in Night City where you can really experience that, but I know a few hidden gems.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVE FLOWER?

Hydrangeas, probably. Especially the blue and purple ones. Oh, and wisteria! A tree covered in blooming wisteria is one of the most beautiful sights I've ever seen.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVE SCENT?

Freshly brewed coffee; new car smell; woodsy, smokey colognes and perfumes; real leather; whatever incense Misty uses in her shop; clothes right out of the dryer; lavender; a ton more that I know I'm forgetting!

.ೃ࿔*:･ COFFEE, TEA, OR HOT CHOCOLATE?

Strong coffee, black, maybe a little sugar if I'm feeling indulgent. Tea is nice, but it's not my caffeine fix. I like a cup of lavender or chamomile tea at night. Hot chocolate is too heavy and rich for my taste. A sip is nice, but I could never finish a cup.

.ೃ࿔*:･ AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP?

I try not to get any fewer than 6 hours, but that's easier said than done some nights. Okay, most nights.

.ೃ࿔*:･ DOG OR CAT PERSON?

You know, I've only ever seen one dog in person. A childhood friend's family had one--I don't know the breed, but it was a yippy little shit and it bit me! Never really wanted to see another dog, if I'm honest.

I like cats, though. There's a stray that hangs by Misty's place--He's the sweetest little guy. I picked up a bag of kibble we keep there to feed him when he comes around.

.ೃ࿔*:･ DREAM TRIP?

I've actually traveled a lot--My parents had to go to Biotechnica's HQ in Rome a few times when I was a kid, and they usually turned those trips into an excuse to have an extended European vacation. And I went all over the globe working for Arasaka for 7 years. I'd love to go back to Japan for non-work reasons.

.ೃ࿔*:･ FAVORITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER?

You're gonna laugh, it's so predictable. In my defense, I can't remember the last time I watched or read anything new--Actually, that's not true. Jackie made me watch one of those Bushido movies last week, and I just don't get it. Anyway. It's Elizabeth Bennet. Don't look at me--What's the next question?

.ೃ࿔*:･ NUMBER OF BLANKETS YOU SLEEP WITH?

Just a sheet and comforter.

.ೃ࿔*:･ RANDOM FACT?

Oh, no, don't put me on the spot like this! [laughs] Um, okay, I shot my first firearm when I was about 7. Under intense adult supervision--My dad was really serious about self-defense and the right to bear arms, which always surprised people because he came across as such a meek science nerd. I didn't like it--It was so loud, even with earmuffs. Funny how things change.

Is that kind of a heavy note to leave on? [laughs again] Okay, how about this one: I can't roll my tongue.

[royal-ruin]

red, white, and royal blue (rwrb) fic rec (part 1)

in honor of the movie coming out, here are some of my fav rwrb fic recs. i have a ton but i'm not entirely sure how many parts this should be, so we'll see.

other rwrb fic recs here personal favorites are starred, by the way. everything is complete unless stated otherwise.

25 Questions by clottedcreamfudge (~2k)

acdiaz how well does @hrhprincehenry know me really??? Time to find out! Full disclosure: he had to be bribed with jaffa cakes to do this, but it was worth it. Every single answer is VERBATIM and if he tells you otherwise it's a LIE.

soft and adorable, the perfect kind of fluff.

I'd Cross Oceans by 14hpgirl19 (~5k)

Dating a prince is hard. Dating a prince when you're the son of the President is even harder.  Alex is done with barely seeing Henry. When Henry gets sick while in London, Alex decides to take matters into his own hands. (And if he ends up with a fiance at the end of it, even better.)

marriage proposal fics are the best, you'll see a ton of them.

titles are the worst, we refuse byathousandrooms, clottedcreamfudge, everwitch, indomitablelove, railmedaddy for TheAmberFox (~11k)

The paparazzi, a friend, their classmates, a true enemy. Alex is no stranger to telling people to fuck off, it’s a daily occurrence; but when it’s Henry who does it? Alex couldn’t be prouder. 5 times Alex tells someone to fuck off and one time Henry does.

i clicked on the fic because one of the tags are "fuck the patriarchy"

**Never Did Run Smooth by clottedcreamfudge (~67k)

"You and me? Best friends. Stellar. Love that for us. But we could absolutely fake being in love. Dating. Whatever. I know literally everything about you—" (No you don't, Henry thinks firmly) "—and you know everything about me. We would absolutely fucking annihilate the other contestants.” "You're too drunk to apply," Henry points out, like he himself isn't about as wasted as it's possible for him to be without curling up and going immediately to sleep. "I doubt you could spell your own name right on the application. Or mine." Alex grins and pulls something up on his phone; it looks like it takes him a few tries. "Wanna fucking bet?" Or: Henry's life is a comedy of errors; a patchwork of oopsie-daisies; a quilt stitched together with hauntingly terrible mistakes. And at the centre of it all is his best friend, Alex Claremont-Diaz; director of said comedy, threading together his oopsie-daisies into a flower crown, rolling around in the quilt of his own making, and this analogy is going to shit because Henry's so in love with him he wants to die.

oh my god??? this fic has my heart?? no other words than must-read.

Play The Game by laurentknows (1k)

The papers get a little too much and Alex and Henry decide to play the game with them.

some sweet fluff and comedy.

Red, White & Navy Blue by jedusaur (~4k)

"Fine," says Alex. He clenches his jaw and his fists. "Great. Watch me. I'll bromance the shit out of the motherfucker."

two words: hockey au

Keep Most of Your Heart in Londonby cresswells (~4k)

Alex thinks he’s prepared – as prepared as he’ll ever be. He’s been waiting for months to do this. He even did his research on the proper etiquette for a British royal engagement – and then promptly ignored it all. AKA: The one with the engagement of the century.

[shallowseeker]

Why is Dean so stressed in 14x17?

(We know why.)

Ahem:

The visuals of this are pretty goddamned painful

And WTF is UP with these foreshadowing lyrics??? soft country music -> Jackie Stewart's Maybe Tomorrow>

We had a quarrel Like lovers do Still I can't make my heart Believe we're through For I still love you With all my heart And life means nothing When we're apart Maybe tomorrow When comes the dawn Maybe the dark clouds Will all be gone Maybe tomorrow The sun will shine Maybe tomorrow You'll still be mine

etc etc

This could be foreshadowing...OR maaybe Dean n' Cas actually had a smallish weird fight about Cas leaving again.

I mean, Cas is lying about a ton of stuff (Empty deal, Felix the snake, searching for God), and Dean is pretty good at pinging that, even when he tries to swallow it down and overlook it.

///

And Dean?

Dean is so stressed out that not only do Mary and Jack notice, but they're taking actions to calm him down/cheer him up

Sam prooooobably knows why Dean is unhinged, so he quickly volunteers to get outta Dodge and pick up the food. (I feel ya, Sammy. You are me in this moment.)

Meanwhile, Dean struggles to win Mouse Trap. We get a closeup of the foot kicking the "audience" eye. NOTE that in the actual game, it's just a plain silver ball.

Or at least that's how I remember it and have always seen it. If anyone know of a version that was released with an eye, hit me up.

Otherwise I'm gonna assume it was completely intentional, and Dean is trying to have a normal family game night without "us" interfering.

<Cue Dean screaming over sucking at the game>

He's, uh, wound pretty tightly today, actually.

We can see that from Jack and Mary's following convo. Seems like today, they're the ones tag-teaming to mollify Dean.

(Dean, who is stressed because Cas is AWOL and acting cagey and probably not answering his phone again.)

JACK: "I thought this was supposed to relax him."

Ahahaha, oh Mary. "Let's give Dean a little game and he'll relaxies and be nicies to us!"

Oh yea.

Cas definitely isn't answering his phone, and everyone is tiptoeing around Dean because of it.

///

Tragedy: Jack & Mary get along really well!

Just gonna point out that Jack is actually VERY comfortable with her in general.

He spent MONTHS with her at war. She was his advisor. Given that he ran away from TFW a few weeks after his birth, much of his formative parenting was done by Mary Campbell Winchester, not Sam and Dean (nor Cas)!

She checks in with Jack, but she doesn't push. Result? Genuine, blunt Jack emotions:

(MARY is thinking "FUCK, first my oldest son is acting like a basket-case and screaming at a toddler's game and now my grandson is acting like this. FML. Cas, come home now. Plz for the love of all that is holy.")

Tragically, because of the trust and comradery between them, Mary offers something the others don't: permission to vent.

(MARY: Jack, if you wanna talk shit about everyone, I love shit-talk. )

Funnily enough, Mary doesn't use a lot of words here. It's a partially silent communication. "If you ever wanna vent..." (gentle head tilt like, 'y'know.')

JACK: You're here. I know. (silent appreciative looks, then Jack makes a head motion like 'c'mon let's go').

And ACTUALLY.

Jack reacts genuinely well to that. He and Mary...get each other. He feels comfortable telling her what he really thinks.

See, I think this emotional permissiveness that we see with Mary is devastating. Jack tends to get more genuinely irritable and say what he thinks with Mary (also Dean n' Cas). Even when he's soulless and working hard to "perform" soulfulness, his real irritation slips out with her.

Tragically, that means she was probably always more risk with Jack. Because he's more comfortable throwing his real, ugly emotions at them.

(Sam on the other hand is more cerebral and perhaps at times...unintentionally distant because it's all so eloquent, careful, scripted.)

///

DEAN: (swallowing his nerves and trying to be cheerful and teasing) All right! Winchester game night is a go! Soon as Sammy gets back with two double-pepperoni meat blasters...and a pineapple.

Jack seems appreciative of the banter here. He doesn't wanna be pushed right now.

///

Dean is weird when Sam doesn't pick up his phone right away

When Donatello lands in Nick-shaped peril, Dean tries to call Sam. ONCE. And it gets an...out-of-proportion reaction from Dean.

(It's also...a lot like John's voicemail in Phantom Traveler. "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. He can help.")

He's prickly:

SAM: "You've reached Sam Winchester. If this is an emergency, call my brother."

DEAN: Sam's not answering his phone. This whole damn town's a dead zone.

That's...not exactly true, as least what we've see so far in the series? They make calls from the bunker a lot.

*coughs* This lends some credence to the fact that his prior stress (the stress that Jack and Mary were working together to help) is about his, uh, phone. Phone calls. Phone calls not being answered, even.

READ: This is about Cas. Who hasn't been answering his phone. And Dean? Dean rationalizes that maybe his calls aren't landing because of where he is.

///

There's some truth to Dean's woes/anxiety. When Cas leaves, bad things tend to happen. And hey, they happen when Cas is there too, sure, but with Cas there, Dean can't help but feel more resilient, more equipped to take on whatever-it-is.

///

But yeah, it's looking like Dean and Cas maybe already had a little, reserved/restrained fight prior to Jack killing Mary. Dean was acting...really weird. Forced.

[whumping-valentine]

🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 4 🦌

"Broken Glass"

Content: guns, threats, dehumanization, kinda pet whump, restraints, failed escape, glass and blood, stitches, creepy and intimate whumper, noncon kissing, removing clothes.

1800 words

I'M BACK !!!!

So sorry about my absence over the last few months! I originally had a shit ton written on my absence, but you aren't here to hear me yap about my life. Though I will say I'm still in a bit of writer's block, so please excuse me if I continue to remain gone for a while, or updates are slow. I'm also not too happy with the writing this part, but it is what it is. I've been so angry at my writing recently you have no idea, hence my writer's block.

But anyways! I'm back and it's time for part 4! This is where things get more whumpy and our poor little Fawn gets pushed around and hurt. You hate love to see it. To find the other parts, you can search the fawn and hunter tag on my profile. Anyways let's goooo

       Hunter awoke to the morning sun shining in through the cracks of their boarded up windows. They finally managed to fall asleep at some odd hour of the night. They'd nearly forgotten about the treasure they acquired the day before, and when they remembered, they gleefully got out of bed, grabbing a shotgun as they trudged down into the basement.

       Hunter pulled the light string, and the room illuminated with a click. The first thing they noticed was the puddle on the floor.

       Oh, so the poor thing did piss on the floor...

       Hunter looked to their captive, who was curled up on the mattress, clutching a knife to their chest like it was a comfort item. How cute, Hunter thought, they brought a knife to a gun fight.

       Hunter crouched down beside the sleeping figure, admiring them. They pushed their disheveled hair out of their eyes, noticing the cracks in their big, round glasses and the stress that's already formed on their face.

       Hunter nudged their side with their shotgun, waking them up. As Fawn blinked their eyes awake, they widened at the gun in their face. They gasped as adrenaline shot through them, clutching the knife tighter as they scooted back against the wall.

       "Where'd you find that at?" Hunter asked, looking between them and the knife, a smirk on their face.

       Fawn stared up at them, still with wide, fearful eyes. Their hands started to shake and sweat as their heart beat faster and faster. They felt their eyes water as they pointed the knife up at their captor, "S-stay away from me."

       Hunter simply chuckled, smiling, "You think that little thing is gonna protect you? Baby, I've got a gun."

       "I'm- I'm not your baby!" They tried to sound stern, but fell beyond flat. The shaking of their tear stained voice was like music to Hunter's ears.

       "Hm? Why not? You sure act like one." They said, and got closer to them, putting the gun under their chin, "Drop the knife, little fawn."

       Fawn's breathing grew heavy as they froze in fear.

       "Drop it." Hunter commanded as if Fawn were a dog.

        Fawn dropped the knife, almost feeling against their will as their muscles acted without their brain.

       "There we go, such a good little thing," Hunter cooed. "Oh, don't you look at me like that, I think that thing fits you perfectly."

       Fawn opened their mouth to protest.

       "Shut it."

       Fawn closed their quivering lips. Hunter crouched down to their level, sitting down on the mattress, observing them.

       Hunter tilted their head, "How's your leg?"

       "Wo-wouldn't y-you care." Fawn said bitterly.

       "Which one of us is holding a gun?"

        Fawn squeezed their eyes shut, and spoke through gritted teeth, "It's fine."

       "Fine enough to hobble up the stairs last night?"

        "I needed the bathroom."

        "Need is a strong word. Clearly you didn't. It was optional."

       "I had to go on the floor, what do you mean optional?"

       "Well the floor's an option, is it not?"

       "Yeah, if you're an animal!"

       "Are you not one?"

       Fawn's face flushed with embarrassment and anger, "Oh, just shoot me! It's not worth it!" They slumped back and crossed their arms.

       Hunter chucked, "Dramatic much?"

       Fawn stayed silent against the wall, their arms firmly crossed as they refused to look at them. They were not going to be their entertainment. The defiance didn't last very long, though.

       "Ugh! What's that fucking smirk for?" Fawn spat, embarrassment and anxiety turning to anger.

       "Ooh, big words for such a cute little thing." Hunter said, and before Fawn could respond, they grabbed onto a strap of their overalls and pulled them to their foot with ease.

       Hunter grabbed their chin and inspected their face, "You seem a bit dirty, no?"

       "I'm perfectly fine, thank you." Fawn shoved them off, "It's not like cleanliness matters very much around here."

       "Not for me, no, but you? I don't want you looking disheveled."

      "Whatever." Fawn sighed, then yelped when Hunter picked them up over their shoulder. They carried them to the bathroom and plopped them down on a counter.

       They stripped them of their overalls, leaving them in underwear and their sweater.

       "The sweater needs to come off too, pet."

       "I- but- it's cold! It's the middle of Autumn!"

       "Excuses, excuses." Hunter dismissed, grabbing onto their sweater, yanking it off them in on quick motion, causing them to yelp.

       Hunter started to wipe Fawn off with a cloth, and their heart felt like it was going to beat out of their chest. Embarrassed, angry, and scared weren't exactly a nice mix of emotions. They couldn't believe they were being cleaned like some kind of pet. They were just thankful they still had their underwear.

       After many minutes of tense scrubbing and washing, Hunter took a moment to step out of the room, leaving Fawn alone. They turned towards the window and a sudden surge of adrenaline came over them. They looked between the window and the door and made a quick, impulsive decision.

       They stood up and smashed the window with their elbow. A loud crash and crack boomed, along with the sound of Fawn yelling in pain. Instead of the whole window shattering, only a small hole was formed, and their arm was now stuck in the window.

       Hunter rushed back into the room, and looked much more concerned and annoyed then they did angry, "What the hell, Fawn? First you step into a bear trap and now you can't even break a window right. It's amazing you made it to adulthood."

       "I- I thought the window would break…"

       "What, did you think you could get away just by being outside? You said it yourself, it's the middle of Autumn, it's cold, you're barely wearing any clothes, AND you have a hurt ankle. Making smart decisions isn't exactly your area of expertise, is it?"

       Fawn wanted to yell, and scream, and cry. They were angry, and scared, and embarrassed, and wanted to curse profanities at their condescension. But they couldn't even move let alone make a sound. The physical pain they felt overpowered any emotion.

       Hunter sighed and walked over to them, breaking the window some more around their arm until it was free. They walked Fawn to the dining table and sat them down.

       Hunter meticulously picked out the multiple shards of glass in Fawn's arms. They were shaking, and wincing with each movement Hunter made. Blood was dripping down their arms and onto the floor.

       There were so many cuts, and so much blood you could barely even see skin anymore. Hunter carefully wiped their arm with cloths, though it didn't completely stop the blood. They had to poke around in their cuts for any tiny shards, digging inside the gashes to pull them out with tweezers.

       When Hunter was sure they got them all, they wrapped bandages around their arms. Though here was one spot in particular they were more concerned about. Near their right wrist, a large gash went down nearly to their elbow.

       "That one's gonna need stitches." They said.

       Fawn furrowed their brow, "And- and how are you going to- to do that?"

       "By giving you stitches, idiot." Hunter held up a needle.

       "You- you're- there's no way you're going to do that!"

       "What else do you want me to do? See, these are the consequences of your actions, Fawn. You step in my trap, you get stuck with me. Try to escape, I give you stitches. That's only fair."

       "Fair?!"

       "Yes, fair! Maybe be more careful."

       Fawn was shocked by their audacity, but then again, who would expect very much from someone who kidnaps and murders people?

       Hunter took their wrist and put it over their lap. The large gash in their arm was no longer bleeding, but it would start up again soon. Hunter put the needle to Fawn's skin, and they hitched a breath and closed their eyes, wincing as they braced for the pain.

       The cold metal pierced their skin and their whole body tensed as Hunter slowly sewed the scar closed. Their arm involuntarily shook and they couldn't hold it still, just making it more painful. Fawn hitched a sob as it escaped them.

       "You're so cute when you cry."

       "Shut- shut the fuck up."

       Hunter slapped them.

       Hard.

       They grabbed them by the chin, "You shut up, and you hold still." They said, firm and low, now grabbing onto their hand tightly. Each stitch felt like agony. The sharp piercing of the needle, the thread pulling through their skin, it was awful. And after a few more minutes, it was finished.

       "There, it's done." Hunter said. "Was that so bad?"

       "Fucking yes!" Fawn yelled as tears streamed down their freckled cheeks. Their arm was shaking like crazy, not to mention the unbearable throbbing and sting that ran all the way down their arm.

       Hunter gently reached out and took their bandaged, trembling arm in their hand, and kissed their wrist.

        Fawn twisted their arm from their grasp, "Don't you dare!"

       "Whaaat? Never heard of kisses making it feel better?"

       "Yeah, from mothers! Not you! You're not my mom!"

       "I could be like one."

       "You're fucking weird!"

       "Obviously. But I'm not done with you. Let me kiss it."

       Fawn scoffed, "Yeah right. Like that's happening."

       "Oh, it's happening whether you want it to or not! You stepped into my trap, now you get to play by my rules. Or- do I have to get more strict with you?" They reached for a gun, quickly knocking the sassy defiance out of them.

       "I- no- sir- ma'am- I-"

       "Give me your wrist."

       With tears still welled in their eyes, Fawn slowly placed a shaking hand into Hunter's palm.

       "There we go," Hunter cooed, pleased. They placed a kiss on their wrist, and slowly moved up their arm. Fawn squeezed their eyes shut and tensed as they feared the worst, but they stopped halfway up their arm, where the cut ended. Hunter lifted their head, and chuckled upon seeing their face, "What? Afraid I'm gonna kiss you?"

       Fawn just scowled.

       "Well, with you all nice and patched up I think it's time to eat, yeah?"

       Food was the last thing in Fawn's mind right now, especially if the food came from a deer. It didn't matter much though. Not like they were getting out of this.

       After dinner Hunter dragged them into a spare bedroom and threw them onto a bed.

       "I can't have you trying to escape again," Hunter said, picking up rope. "One attempt is plenty enough for me."

       "W-wh-" Fawn stammers, unable to get out a single word.

       "Lay down." Hunter commanded. They tied a rope around their ankles, then to the bed frame, doing the same with their wrists.

       "Don't try to squirm too much. You'll hurt your wrist, and your ankle. Just let it happen. There we go."

       Fawn could only lay still, their arms above their head, whole body immovable. If they tried to move their arms their wrist hurt. If they tried to move their legs, their ankle. Fawn winced in disgust as Hunter kissed their nose before leaving.

       Fawn could see the cracked bathroom window from where they lay. They watched as Hunter boarded up the window, just like every other one around the cabin. A sinking feeling arose in them when they realized…

       This wasn't the first time this has happened.

End note: I think it's so much fun when whumpers are casual. Like, don't get me wrong, I love a threatening whumper and terrified whumpee as much as the next person, but a more casual dynamic is so much fun to me. I like when they just bicker and whumpee doesn't have to walk on eggshells because whumper is more liberal with their rules. Like, they're more annoyed and incovinienced than scared, lol. Anyways, let me know what y'all think!

Also I'm starting a taglist as you can see, due to a request. Lemme know if you want added.

Taglist: @parasitebunny

[relaxxattack]

how come twitter hates knifetrick? i havent read it nor have i ever been involved in any mcyt or adjacent stuff btw

oh man. ok let me explain the story. it was around exactly a year ago the main bit of this shit happened actually

in 2020 minecraft roleplaying (mcrp) becomes super mainstream with the rise of dream smp. in these series, stories are scripted and then acted out live with some improv stuff

in the fandoms there is a LOT of drama over whether it's okay to ship the roleplay characters. there's lots of stances on this. in the beginning, most people say it's not okay to ever ship rp characters, because the youtubers usually just use their own persona as a base for an oc, so it's basically the same thing as shipping the youtubers together. shipping irl people is weird and gross, so nobody wants to do that.

in 2021 a couple of ships start getting confirmed as canon in the rp. characters date or get together or canonically have romantic scenes. this makes the fandom hurt itself in its confusion, because it doesnt understand if it's allowed to ship those characters together.

two guys have their characters literally get married and have a child. the fandom LOVED these characters, they were well written and cute and had a great dynamic. the fandom wanted to ship them and support their marriage so bad. BUT. they were played by real people. those real people (tubbo and ranboolive) were also minors at the time, who nobody wants to risk being weird about obviously.

the mainstream fandom decides that to solve this problem, they will pretend that the marriage is platonic, and ostracize and witch hunt anyone who claims it's not. they draw tons and tons of ship fanart of the two characters, all helpfully tagged as "platonic", sometimes tagging every single use of the word "husband" as platonic.

EVENTUALLY, people start realizing, hey wait, this is roleplay. it's fictional. the streamers are not actually traumatized war veterans who invented nukes, have amnesia, raised a child, are half hybrid alien etc etc etc.

in fact... it's actually really weird to try and make their roleplay relationship the same as their real life one. in the roleplay, they are married and have a kid and act lovey-dovey... why would you claim that's their real relationship? why would you conflate the two? can't we just understand that it's fictional?

most of the tumblr fandom, eventually, realizes that fictional characters and real human actors are not actually the same person. (it helps that the actors themselves state the same thing.)

the twitter fandom however... does not eventually realize this. they stay in their "platonic husband" hell, simultaneously being really weird about shipping and outwardly hating all shippers.

fastforward a bit, there's another mc roleplay series. it's a spinoff series of that first one we were talking about, and it's an athology series-- a whole bunch of oneshots with new characters each time. keep in mind, these characters are NOT EVEN RELATED TO THE STREAMER'S PERSONAS... they make up new ones each time!!

anyway they do one of the oneshots in a cool futuristic city and i was like "man it would be cool to write about this." one of the characters (ran) acts very weird and suspicious for the 5 lines he has total, which leads to a lot of silly theories about what he might be up to in this future city. i think, "man it would be fun to write about him." a different character (jackie) remarks on that character as well; jackie is also one of the only characters to live to the end of the oneshot.

ages after this oneshot was actually aired i thought to myself, what the hell, i'll write a story about ran and jackie. they have literally no existing personality and the futuristic city is not even remotely expanded on- i get to do all that myself!

so i write a comedy mystery action romance novel about an alien assassin (ran) assigned to kill the general of the city's army (jackie) while they try to find some kidnapped kids. keep in mind, i had basically nothing to work with for these characters-- they were side characters for a single episode from a spin-off series, they had around ten lines total. i got to make up basically everything about who they were and where they came from and what they would do myself. the story is also chock full of OCs, and all of the mechanics for the city itself were original and invented by me-- it was a huge labor of love and invention and original work.

the romance wasn't intended to be a whole thing, but honestly it felt very natural (and all the story's fans definitely wanted it), so it eventually happened.

surprising no one, the same twitter fans who believe that fictional characters are somehow LITERALLY the same as their actors started trying to tell me i was shipping real life people. (what? gross?). they told me i was being a bad fan by going against the wishes of irl people who didn't want to be shipped. they accused me of so much, of just trying to "hide" that i really shipped irl people, tons of things. but my story was not about irl people. the characters literally have different fucking names, appearances, personalities, dynamics... EVERYTHING.

twitter users eventually started a "cancellation" of me. i don't even use twitter. but anyway they dug up a bunch of weird innocuous comments or fanarts i had done before, and then pointed to knifetrick, and said i was secretly a gross person, that i was a guy who shipped gaming youtubers, etc. there was a thread about it, idk.

eventually the harassment in my inbox caused me to take a break from tumblr for several weeks. i actually wasn't sure if i would come back. HUNDREDS of people were talking about how terrible i was; people on twitter literally have me and my works in their goddamn dnis. it was such a surreal experience and it caused me so much anxiety.

eventually, several of my friends convinced me to finish the story, because really there was nothing all that wrong with it in the first place. i came back to tumblr.

i added the banner that is currently in my pinned to discourage gross shippers, or people who think *i* am a gross shipper, from coming near me anymore.

as far as i'm concerned, ran and jackie are my OCs. they were from a oneshot-- a oneshot that has not been MENTIONED by its creators for years now-- who i gave an entire story to. i don't want to associate with that fandom anymore, so i don't want the characters i worked so hard on associated either.

they still talk about me on twitter sometimes, kind of as an urban legend of drama. "holy shit you guys remember the knifetrick stuff? that was so gross, how did we let any of that happen. people kept defending it too 🤢". it doesn't bother me as much anymore, because i'm surrounded by people with the critical thinking skills to tell the difference between tom hanks and woody, but it's still sometimes surreal and hurtful.

don't take this as just me complaining though- making knifetrick was incredibly fun, and i still adore all the fans and memes and fanart to this day. you all were incredible and pretty much make those awful episodes worth it <3

in case you're wondering, the steamiest thing those characters did, that people were so upset about?

they shared a chaste peck of the lips for .2 seconds before one of them tried to kill the other.

[thehollowwriter]

Thinking about Finn's overblot at 1am and I just

He's probably more scared than anything else cause technically he wouldn't be that violent like with Azul snatching magic or Riddle offing heads, etc. He probably overblotted out of terrified distress in the first place anyways.

Then again

Sleep deprivation from his nightmares, the constant stress from sensing the presence of his siblings, overstimulatiom from being at a such a loud bright place and the distress from three (Azul, Jamil and Chrysos) overblots as well as using a ton of magic in those overblots and his UM for contracts (and maybe to try hide from his siblings tho it doesn't work)

Probably all comes together on Halloween after one of the more intense events happens and there's just blot leaking from his eyes and oh god this is bad

He's definitely so aggressive and volatile because he feels threatened and he just wants to be left alone, he just wants some peace he wants this endless noise in his head to go away

It's difficult for him to concentrate on a single target bc he's so overwhelmed his just dishes out random spells at large scale which are very deadly and very destructive and probably magic not even the more advanced students have ever seen before because it's abyssal magic

That makes it worse actually. There's an overblot and he's dishing out this magic and nobody knows what the fuck that is or how it works. That's terrifying. Azul and the twins probably realise but they don't know how to use abyssal magic or how to counter so the best bet is to knock Finn out

But he's flailing around so much and shooting so much magic in every general direction that it's impossible to get an opening

He's also talking with like multiple voices at once it has thus creepy echo effect and you could even recognise some of those voices. Or his voice changed every few words and he doesn't even sound like himself anymore

Shit it doesn't help that he can sort of use some people's UM including Azul's???? He can use Leona's UM but instead of sand it's a tar-like blotty substance

Anyways his ob is probably extremely destructive and pls help or he'll die way sooner than any other on boy would from the sheer amount of magic he's using up so fast

This will probably make no sense when I wake up tomorrow but here you go anyways

Tagging: @distant-velleity @krenenbaker @theleechyskrunkly @officialdaydreamer00 @cynthinesia @elysia-nsimp @kitwasnothere enjoy

Chrysos belongs to @distant-velleity