#was too sad to take pictures of. it was just the frame and the wheel

[daddyricsdoll]

Benefits ✭ Ollie Bearman

Summary: Going to Ollie's home for dinner is easy. But being friends like this, has its benefits. In this case Ollie wanted his time home to be better than it already was, starting in his sim chair.

Warnings: Unprotected sex. I think that's all, I don't know if hickeys along breasts count as well.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Based off of this lovely request.

“Hey, welcome.” Terri opens the door and pulls Ollie in for a hug, me seconds after. “It’s been so long. Dinner is still cooking but for now Ollie can show you around. I know you've been here a million times but it’ll give you guys something to do.” She smiles, walking us out of the foyer. We both say hi to the rest of his family, his sister questioning if we’re dating yet. 

“No, of course not. We’re just really good friends.” A grin arises on my face as I look toward Ollie, enjoying the view of him laughing with his younger brother. He seems like such an innocent and sweet boy, which he can be, but then the filthy words he groans in my ear and the way he uses my body says otherwise. 

“Come on, let’s see if they've changed my room yet.” He leads me away, everything getting quiet except for the light padding of our feet against the floor. We both walk in, noticing not a single thing has changed.

“Well that isn’t too exciting. I was hoping they changed it all so I could act sad like they do in movies, and then I’d see an old picture in a frame and all the memories would come rushing back.” I laugh as I walk closer to his sitting body. Grabbing his cheeks and then smacking a kiss on his lips. It was fast and quick, an impulsive decision. But could I say I regretted it? No.

I turn away from him and walk into my favourite room of this house– the simulator room. It’s where we would usually hangout. He would be on the sim and I’d watch, it went on for hours which makes me think how I even managed to stay there for long. 

“I knew you’d be here.” A familiar British voice emits into the room.

“Well where else would I be? I’m not going into your parents room.” His chucklee fills the silence of the room as he walks toward the sim. m as he makes his way to the sim chair. 

“Still feels the same.” He sits back and stretches his arms out to the steering wheel. I walk closer to him sitting in it he lets out a sigh. “Still feels the same.” 

“Is that good or bad?” I walk closer to him, legs brushing against his body and the chair. 

“I don’t know.” Ollie grabs me by my thighs and pulls my body onto his. “Would you like to make it better?”

I drag my finger down his face and neck, trailing down his chest. “And how might I do that?” I bite on the side of my bottom lip, keeping it tugged between my teeth as my eyes roam over his face. Ollie doesn’t say a word, instead he grabs my hips and adjusts my body so I straddle on his lap.

His mouth makes contact with my skin, lips lazily parted as he drags it along my skin, forcing my breath to hitch and head to incline toward the ceiling. Going down my throat and toward my cleavage, hands along my sides before he starts undoing the button and zip of my pants. I lift my hips to help him take it off easier before he mirrors his actions on himself. 

“We’ve got to be quick, and quiet.” He says in advance to capturing my lips with his. Ollie grabs me by my thighs and holds me in the perfect position before he helps lower me onto his dick. Easily sliding onto him. I begin to take control, letting him lean against the chair and watch me as I try to control my moans.

Biting my lip and sliding my hand up my top. Ollie holds my hips then waist, moving higher each second and lifting my top. Quickly removing my hand so he can take up the job, rolling my nipples with his thumb.

“Fuck. They don’t know, their sweet little boy is getting fucked on his sim chair.” I manage to say between pants. Rolling my hips and feeling him hit the spot endlessly. Groans and moans coming out of his mouth. “They don’t know I’m gonna fill you up and the only thing you’ll think about is my dick.” I become speechless at his words, only moans leaving my lips. 

Oliver steals the control from me, leading my body as it moves up and down, meeting his and making our skin slap together. He pulls me in closer, attacking my neck with kisses, trying to control himself from marking my exposed skin. So instead he lifts my shirt and covers my breast with his lips, planting love bites and claiming territory that isn’t his. 

My nipples so sensitive and climax creeping up on me, all it takes is his tongue teasing my breasts and the roll of my hips to knock me off and release. 

I hide my face in his neck, with hopes the sounds that come out of my mouth become muffled. Ollie pushes my body into him. My unclothed skin rubbed against his clothed. 

He holds my ass tightly as he releases; Coming with a groan from deep in his throat.

I ride both of our highs out, the room smelling of sex and the sound even louder. 

Ollie helps me off him before going to the bathroom to grab a cloth. I sit on the sim chair with my legs wide open as he cleans me with precision. The only thing on my mind being his dick– oh I hate that he was right– and how amazing it would be if he were mine.

“Friends do this… right?” I ask, watching him look up at me with flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

“Yeah, I guess.” Words uncertain, but I’ll trust him. 

He finishes cleaning me, soon doing the same with himself.

“Guys, dinner is ready!” Ollie’s mum shouts, making us both realise the situation and rush to aim to look normal. 

“Ok, we’re coming.” Ollie says back, running his fingers through his hair and waiting for me before walking down the stairs looking like two friends, who have lost the definition of friends and call it benefits.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Crimson Tango: A Dance of Diamonds and Revenge Part 1: Welcome to the Moulin Rouge✨

A/N: SO excited for me and @mountainsandmayhem to bring you a Moulin Rouge Joel Miller series ❤️ We are both so excited to be writing this and hope you love it as much as we do! Hang on tight for the ride of your life between these two on their angsty, beautiful love story 🥰 Comments and reblogs mean the world to us! Chapters are in both reader’s and Joel’s POV. No explicit smut in first chapter.

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY MDNI)

Tags: Angst, unprotected p in v, oral, fingering, forbidden love, murder, fluff and smut, jealousy, moulin rouge au, soulmates being in love, protective Joel, no outbreak, reader is 20 and Joel is 29, tags will be updated each chapter

Summary: Joel Miller doesn’t know what awaits him as he takes on a maintenance job at the Moulin Rouge. He doesn’t know he’ll meet the absolute love of his life, the Sparkling Diamond, as his world comes crashing down around him fast. Will he be able to stay away when he’s warned not to touch the dancers? Will he listen or will he challenge that pull that draws him to the one thing that sets his soul on fire?

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Welcome to the Moulin Rouge

Your whole childhood centered around death, but you never thought about the possibility of yourself dying, never thought about how you’d like to go. As your vision blurs and the world begins to silence, you realise that this is the ultimate way to go. For her. Saving her is all that matters, saving the person you love the most in the entire world, even if you’ve never met her.

Sarah, please Joel. Name her Sarah.

At times, your childhood may have seemed sad or tragic to the outside eye, but to you it has been nothing short of amazing. You don’t remember the incident that took both your parents, you were too young, so young that you can’t even picture their faces. You were brought to stay with the only family you had left - your mom’s much older brother.

Your uncle Edward was a quiet and kind man, he was also the owner of Moulin Rouge. A bright and colorful dance hall, filled with sparkling costumes and lively music. For the longest time you weren’t allowed outside of the living quarters, but you remember laughter and cheering filtering through the thin walls. This place was magic to you in your childhood naivety.

You remember begging the dancers to teach you the steps to the songs you overheard in the night. Occasionally, one of them would show you a kick or a twirl that you’d practice alone in your room until the muscles in your legs were stretched and sore, no longer able to support your tiny frame.

During the day, a tutor came in for a few hours to teach you and the few other children that lived there, meals were brought to your living quarters by an older woman who rarely spoke to you. Uncle Edward was alway home for those meals, but often had stacks of papers to go through. Most of the time it was just you and the broken guitar and pottery wheel your uncle had given you. But overall you were alone, far away music and laughter to keep you company.

For your thirteenth birthday your uncle surprised you with dance lessons. He knew how much you wanted to learn, and could practically feel the energy buzzing off you every time your eyes darted to the performing dancers. So he gave in, gifting you with something that might bring you a little joy in the isolated burlesque. A silent way of telling you he was sorry for not being around much and leaving you to delve in your loneliness inside your vacant room.

“Well, little petal,” your uncle says as you blow out the singular candle sitting on top of the small cake to celebrate you turning sixteen. “I think you’re old enough now to come up and watch my diamonds perform. What do you say? Would you like to come see the show?”

You practically jumped from your seat, mouthful of chocolate cake, “Yes, Uncle! Please. Nothing could make me happier.”

“Tomorrow night I will bring you up to see it. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.”

You’d seen the costumes and the women in their makeup before, you’ve even been out to the dance hall and on the stage. But that was only during the day, when the tables were only occupied by up-turned chairs, the overhead lights were off, and the band was nothing more than an empty pit in front of the stage.

The next night, your uncle brought you a new sparkly pink dress, and had the hair and make-up ladies get you all dolled up to watch. You looked at yourself in the mirror and had never felt more beautiful, seeing yourself as one of the famous diamonds of the Moulin Rouge. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

The show was like nothing you’d ever seen before. You didn’t know so many varieties of reds and blues and purples existed. The women kicked their legs in unison, men cheering and clapping as they swooshed their large billowing skirts. The music filled your ears with joy and wonder, the sounds crisper than they were through the walls. Laughter and happiness held you like a tight hug. Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

As the show wound down, your Uncle leaned to you and said it was time to head to bed, “You’ve seen the show, little petal. Now the adults will indulge in wine and talk about things not for your ears.”

You didn’t argue, simply kissing your uncle on the cheek and saying, “Thank you, Uncle. I am going to practice harder so I can become a real diamond one day!”

You floated down the hallway. With your eyes still swarming with the bright colors of the show and your future dreams you hadn’t realised that you opened the door before the one to take you home, and this door led to something both sinister and unspeakable - it led to darkness. The room was only lit by candles sprawled across the wall, casting looming shadows of the acts happening before your very eyes.

You stood in the doorway taking in men and women completely naked, rubbing up against one another incessantly. Your tutor taught you that these areas of your body are not to be shared, they are only for you. Yet here they are, almost unashamed as they grind. The men all appear to be having a good time, but the women - they’re crying out.

Are they in pain? What are these men doing to them? Why are some men just watching? They should be helping. Your uncle, does he know that this is happening? Is this what his diamonds do?

Perhaps when you turn eighteen you can join them.

You nervously approached your Uncle about it a few days later. “Oh, my sweet little petal. I’m sorry that you had to witness that. I promise you, none of those women were in pain. Not all my diamonds dance like that, and you never will. I meant it when I offered you a spot to dance, fully clothed and on the stage only. I only hope that you do not think less of me now that you know what goes on behind closed doors of the Moulin Rouge.”

Four Years Later

Joel stumbles into the doors of the Moulin Rouge after seeing the maintenance worker needed sign displayed in bold letters outside the burlesque. This was the last place he wanted to end up, the last place he’d be caught dead in; but he needed something, and anything was better than the minimal income of selling his woodwork. He couldn’t get by anymore by only getting one or two customers every couple of weeks, if he was lucky. It wasn’t enough to pay the rent of his small, cramped apartment. Wasn’t enough to feed himself day and night. He needed more, and this was his shot.

He pushes the heavy black doors open, quickly tucking his red flannel button-up into his pressed pants, needing to look his best if he wants to get this job. He has to get it, has to impress whoever is the owner of this club.

He finds the first person he can spot, quickly getting the attention of a bartender as he washes crystal glasses with a thin rag behind the sleek bar top.

“Sorry to bother you, but I saw the sign out front that said you need some help with maintenance around here?” he asks briskly as he stares at the bartender with eyes that say he’s desperate. His hands come to rest on the bar top and he fights the urge to nervously drum his fingers along it.

The bartender looks him over as he sets down a glass, nodding his head. “Oh, yes. Let me go grab the owner real quick. Be right back, wait here,” he says as he runs in the opposite direction, disappearing behind a long hallway. Joel nervously pushes back his outgrown curls, silently cursing to himself for buying that loaf of bread instead of getting a haircut. His big brown eyes dart curiously around the club, trying to take it all in.

It’s light outside as the sun glistens in through the drawn crimson curtains, some dancers sauntering on stage as they practice their moves, swaying their hips to a nonexistent beat. Joel averts his eyes and takes in the rest of the large room - it’s filled with tables that are meant for the men to smoke cigars and drink their alcohol as they drool over the women of the burlesque. All lust and no love, the way the burlesque was set up to be. Joel was never into this scene, never fit in with any of those types of men, but he was desperate, he needed work and this may very well be the only way he can get any.

A tall, thin man walks into the room with slicked back sandy hair and green eyes that are as sharp as a snake’s. He eyes Joel carefully, one hand resting in his pocket, the other stretching to shake Joel’s. Joel wastes no time and reaches a hand out, feeling a firm grasp as the owner shakes his hand.

“The name’s Edward. And you are?” he asks with a gentle smile.

“I’m Joel. Joel Miller,” he says with nerves running through his body, the back of his neck slick with sweat. He’s nervous he won’t get it, nervous he’ll leave empty handed with no job. He’ll fight for it though because he’s a fighter, and he doesn’t give up easily.

“So, I hear you’re interested in the maintenance job. You got any experience?” Edward asks as he leans against the bar, crossing his arms over his chest as he examines Joel again, taking in his flannel and tan pants, his worn work boots.

“Yes, sir. Got years of experience with fixin’ things. Anything from sinks to building homes. Even have a little woodworking shop on the side,” he says proudly as he tries not to fidget with the buttons on his flannel.

“Hmmm,” Edward hums as he looks him over again carefully, those bright green eyes staring at Joel’s clothes like he’s judging him. Joel swallows down that dry lump of self doubt creeping in. “You seem capable. How old are you? Think you can handle working at nights, too? Gets pretty rowdy around here when the moon comes up, but that’s when we need someone the most,” he presses, eyes shifting over him as his brow raises in question again, waiting for Joel to respond.

“Just about to turn thirty and ‘course. Nights don’t bother me one bit. I can even start today, if I can,” Joel says with a determined smile as he shoves his left hand deep into his pocket, praying he’ll get the job.

“I see. Well then, looks like you got yourself a new gig. See you tonight at let’s say 7:00 pm,” he says, reaching a hand out to Joel. For most men that would be a question, but Edward is a very rich and powerful man, he doesn’t ask for things, he demands them. Joel doesn’t hesitate for a second and puts his grip in Edward’s, shaking in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you! You don’t know how much I appreciate this,” he says with tears almost filling his eyes. A job, he finally has a job that’ll get him by just fine. No more nights of going hungry. He can finally breathe a second, if not more.

Before he turns to leave, Edward puts a hand on his shoulder and turns him back around carefully. “Oh, forgot to mention something. There’s only one condition I ask of you. Don’t touch my dancers. They’re strictly for the guests that pay,” he says with furrowed brows, his eyes burning into him, as if to see if Joel will flinch at all.

“That’ll be no problem on my part. Promise,” Joel confirms with a nod of his head, his tousled curls moving with the motion.

“Good, good…” Edward hums out. “Alright, Joel. I’ll see you tonight,” he says with a wave as he turns around and heads back behind crimson curtains, disappearing into a dark hallway.

Joel can’t help but smile as he heads out the doors of the Moulin Rouge, stepping into the warm sunshine as it bathes across his tanned skin. He takes a breath of fresh air as it smells of autumn leaves and new hope.

Things start to feel like they’re looking up, like something nirvanic was right on the cusp. What Joel doesn’t know is just what waits around that heavy crimson curtain for him. He doesn’t know the beautiful disaster he’s about to step into. A Sparkling Diamond that will take over his life forever. Someone so precious, so special, so indescribably unique. Someone so very - you.

Joel makes sure to get to the Moulin Rouge fifteen minutes early, wanting nothing more than to give off a good impression. The burlesque is filling up quickly as the sun fades away, the bright full moon taking its place in the sky, stars scattering around it.

When he walks inside the double doors, he sees that the dance hall is filling up quickly with men who smoke expensive cigars and drink bottles of whiskey that he can only dream of affording. He makes his way further into the entrance, his eyes taking in his surroundings, noticing that the large room looks nothing like earlier when it was closed.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings as red curtains drape across the crimson wallpaper. The dance floor is littered with burlesque dancers that lift their skirts high and tease the men as they surround them, hoping to entice the wealthiest one. Money is what they’re after and selling themselves is their only shot at making any extra tips for the night.

Joel clenches his jaw at the sight and turns his head, waiting at the front until he finally spots Edward in a black pressed suit. His blonde hair slicked back tight, looking around to make sure his guests are happy and taken care of. When he sees Joel, he walks toward him and puts a hand on his shoulder in greeting.

“Ahh, there you are. Come along now. I’ll show you around,” he says gladly.

After that, he shows Joel the burlesque. He takes him to the maintenance closet and gives him a key to access it - metal tools and large shelves cover the entirety of the inside. Next he takes him down long, dark corridors, past rooms that are locked shut. Just when Joel thinks he's seen it all, they head up to the second story. Sweeping down wooden laden hallways, passed the balcony that overlooks the large city, and through winding rooms that seem to have no end. He had no idea it was so large and spacious here; didn’t even realise people lived here. Joel starts to think more softly towards Edward, sure these women put themselves in vulnerable positions night after night, but they have safe housing and a sense of family and community back here.

Edward takes Joel back down toward the main ballroom where the entertainment is held every night. Just as he latches on to the spiral staircase, he sees a man dragging a dancer with barely anything on into a dark room at the end of the luminescent hallway with red carpet sprawled across the floor. He shoves her in as he starts working his hands up her body, and Joel can see the mass of bodies already in the room as he closes the door, concealing moans and lust on the other side of the tarnished doorway.

Joel gulps and looks back toward the ground, keeping his eyes off the pleasure room. He knows what goes on in these walls, knows what filth lies in every corner. The stench of money and sex encompass the room, he can almost taste it on the tip of his rough tongue. He finds it revolting, men using these women's bodies. No love to be seen in these walls. Only perversions and sexual desire. He turns away sharply and descends the stairs, almost running into the back of Edward.

“I believe one of the wooden tables over by the stage needs some maintenance. The legs are collapsing, think you can do something about that?” he asks with a raised brow as he points at a dark wooden table with the legs barely hanging on.

“Sure. Probably just needs some tightening up. Easy fix,” Joel nods.

“Excellent. I have guests to greet, so fix that and then come find me,” just as he turns on his heel, he stops and looks back at Joel. Green eyes narrowing, a finger pointing in Joel’s direction. “Remember,” he says with venom in his voice, “Do not touch my dancers. They’re only for paying customers, and you cannot afford them.”

Joel only nods, letting Edward know he understands. With that, Edward turns and heads for the main doors, greeting more men as they pack in like sardines. Joel sighs and heads for the maintenance closest, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that shoots through his gut at the backhanded warning Edward gave.

Don’t touch the dancers…you cannot afford them.

Even if Joel could afford it, he would never do what these men are doing. The soft, beautiful women of this place deserve to be treasured, not pawed at and used. He wasn’t a rabid dog. He could control himself unlike all the other men that crowded the Moulin Rouge.

He grabs up a metal wrench and shoves some nuts and bolts deep into his pocket. When he makes his way back to the table he starts to assess the damage. This would be much easier to fix in his well lit workshop, but there’s no carrying this table away from the stage and through the crowd of hungry men.

Now that he’s thrust in the middle of the wooden dance floor, he can see the burlesque dancers seeking out the richest looking men, sitting on their laps and letting them put their dirty paws all over their bodies. The men laugh, carrying on conversations as they fondle their breasts, leaning down to trail kisses up their necks. Some get up and lead the women down the long, dark corridor. Back to the pleasure room. Back to their impending doom.

The three men at the table next to him have one girl propped up in front of them, all of their hands grabbing different areas of her body, asking her if she wants all three of them; the men are easily twenty years older than the petite and innocent looking blonde in front of them. Joel feels for the dancers, but there isn’t anything he can do. It’s business. It’s all about the fucking money and pleasure. Pleasure sells, and this is what most men desire. Sex.

The room grows louder as men cheer from the crowded tables. Some swarming the end of the lit up stage to get a peek at the next performer. Some start chanting, yelling in demand for the next poor soul to dance across that stage, right into the pit of vipers that are ready to spit venom at whatever girl walks out next.

The cigar smoke lingers in the air as crystal glasses clink in cheers, alcohol spilling over on the tabletops. Joel knows that’ll leave a huge mess for him and the other staff to clean up after closing. He tightens the bolts under the table, winding the wrench as he tries to turn his focus away from the lust filled crowd. They’re just a bunch of sick fucks who get off on ripping away the innocence and dignity of women. Nothing more than their play things. Theirs to possess and own for a few hours. It’s cruel and vile, disgusting in itself.

Joel was never the type of guy to use a woman. He’d never dream of hurting anyone. He was thoughtful and charming, a man who minds his manners and works hard for everything he has.

He digs harder into the leg of the table, trying to mute the hooting and hollering that is getting louder by the second. The sounds of the men start to overlap until it’s muffled and pressing on his eardrums, running along the nerves that wire his brain. He concentrates on the task at hand, shutting out the noise as he tries to fix the table.

“The Sparkling Diamond!”

“She’s coming on stage now!”

“Look, look!”

The men nearest him yell to each other, babbling about the Sparkling Diamond as the lights turn crimson and dark around the room, crystal chandeliers send glistening reflections across the expensive tailored suits that fill the crowded room.

“Here she comes, boys!”

Just then, the lights go out completely and a spotlight shines on the wide stage. Crimson curtains splay over the sides, exposing the long walkway where dancers show off for the men. The crowd goes quiet, a few whistles shrouding the silence as a slow, sensual song covers the room. The men pound on the stage, yelling for the Sparkling Diamond to come out. Joel thinks she must be something special if she has the entire room practically panting with anticipation. The wild men crawl towards the stage, pushing each other to get to the front so they can get the best view. Joel doesn’t know anything about a Sparkling Diamond, but he’s intrigued. Just what were they getting all worked up about?

Before he can comprehend what's happening, he hears the click of heels travel across the stage. He rises slowly, seeing the pretty figure that dances under the bright spotlight, the men now screaming and throwing their hands out, begging to get a touch of the enchantress that graces their presence. When she’s fully in view he freezes, dropping the wrench to the floor as it crashes with a loud thud against the spotless wood. It suddenly feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. Joel braces himself against the table, the sight before him nearly knocking him back down to his knees.

It’s you.

The most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in his entire life. Long, soft curls cascade past your shoulders and bounce around with every move you make on the lit up stage. Your short pink dress barely grazes the curve of your thighs as your arms raise overhead and you spin slowly. As you bring your arms back down, your red painted fingernails caress your curls, then tease the jawline of your flawless face. Your cheeks flush from the attention before you gently bite the tip of your finger, red lipstick sitting matted to your delicate lips.

Joel thinks they look soft to the touch, delicate even. Your lips call to him, almost scream his name. Joel, Joel, Joel. And he wants to answer it. God, does he want to answer that call.

He watches the way you twirl, fluttering your eyelashes as you look down at the men, seducing them effortlessly. Performing is what you were meant to do. When you finally look at Joel he falls completely apart, all his threads coming untied in a heap, and he lets out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

He stands there frozen, sinking his nails into the hardwood table as he sucks in a shaky breath, almost unable to fully take in the vision that stands mere inches before him. He can’t hear the carnal men anymore, can’t smell the cigar smoke that encases the air, can’t focus on anything that even remotely takes his attention from the beauty that lights up the room. He can only focus on you. He feels a pull from his chest, like an invisible string, forcing him to look at nothing else but you. The Sparkling Diamond that draws men to the Moulin Rouge, and the one thing he knows will get him fired.

Your eyes sparkle and shine like a rare gemstone, pulling Joel in like a siren’s forbidden song, a lull that drags him under the dark depths of the sea. The smile you wear doesn’t quite reach your eyes, a sadness there that he can’t quite place. The men claw and reach for you like starving pigs, acting like you’re just a piece of meat to pass around to all the others to get a quick taste of.

It makes him sick the way they objectify your body, only caring about what’s underneath the short shimmery dress you wear. Joel doesn’t stare at your curves, doesn’t get sucked into whatever fantasy the rest of the men are in. He just stares at your eyes. Beautiful, sparkling. He’d cross oceans just to have a chance to memorize each fleck and color that maps out those starry eyes. Like roadmaps to his soul, leading him home to the deep depths of those glistening irises. And that’s when something snaps, he can’t - no, he won’t let any of these men put one grimy finger on you. Whatever it takes he’ll do it. He makes a silent vow to keep you safe, protect you at all cost.

There’s only one condition, don’t touch the dancers.

Edward’s voice plays through Joel’s mind on repeat, warning him to not tempt fate. But fate had already been tempted when he saw you up on that stage. He’d quit, starve, be homeless on the street if it meant he could have a chance to be with you. He’d give it all just to be able to touch you, to know you, to have you. He’d leave it all for you. His sweet, Sparkling Diamond.

You spin and turn, kicking your feet up to show off your smooth, long legs that all the men drool over. You turn to the right, drifting your eyes in the direction of a man you’ve never seen before. You almost freeze as he stares right back at you, big beautiful brown eyes gazing into yours as he gawks at you reverently. But his eyes don’t travel down your body like the other men’s do. His eyes stay fixed on your face alone, staring up into the pits of your soul as you suck in a breath and try to focus on the beat of the song.

His long tousled curls drape over his forehead, almost falling into his brown doe eyes that seem to suck you in. He’s tall, broad shouldered with thick biceps that cling to his rolled up button-up flannel. Spidery veins cascade down his arms and end in massive hands that stay clenched by his sides. His tanned skin seems to glow as he stares at you with brown eyes that melt into your own like a candle stick, wax flowing down slowly, sticky and new. It’s captivating. He is captivating.

It's like you’re stuck in a haze, thick clouds that cover you and wrap their fog around so you can’t see, can’t hear anything anymore. You try to focus on the men that praise your body, try to avert your eyes from the handsome stranger, but that organ in your chest you force yourself to ignore is almost screaming at you to run to him. Two souls colliding into each other that were destined to meet. Just like twin flames.

Soulmates.

You blink once, twice, peeling your gaze away from him, turning the other direction, forcing yourself to stay bright eyed, hoping your smile doesn’t lower. You come face to face with a gentleman with a large top hat that screams your name and reaches his arms out, desperate to get just a single touch from you that he hopes will become more.

You turn back around and find that heated gaze again with the dark brown eyes, your own eyes going wide as they draw you to him. He looks a lot like your saving grace. Someone that wants to come in and sweep you off your feet.

Again, he just watches you silently, eyes searching yours as he seems to clock into your mind, reading your thoughts like a book from front to back. He won’t find anything there except a longing for something more. An escape. Happiness. And maybe he could be that for you. Maybe, just maybe he was destined to find you. You can feel it in your chest, that ache and pull that draws you to him.

Your uncle won’t like this. Not one bit…

Joel watches your entire routine, never once letting his eyes drop from you. He watches as you disappear into the crowd of men, narrowing his eyes when he sees the way they grab at you and beg to have a dance with the Sparkling Diamond. It makes him want to strangle every single one of them slowly.

Please, just one dance?

Sparkling Diamond! Care to have a drink with me?

How about a little fun in the red room?

You politely decline each offer and just smile as you pass the men by, trying your best to not meet the stranger with the pretty brown eyes’ gaze. He’s so handsome, so very easy on the eyes. You try your best to look at the men with money, knowing this is what you’re here for, to give them a show so they’ll pay to come back. Try as you might, that thin string snapped the second you saw his brown flecked honey eyes. You don’t want to do this anymore.

You turn where you stand and look back towards the stage. You search as men cram around you and over the top of an older man’s shoulder you can see him, clear as day, still staring at you with a trance-like expression on his face. You hold his gaze for a few seconds, curling your lips into a shy smile and you swear you see his pretty caramel eyes light up like fireflies in the night.

Just when you’re about to walk over to him, you feel your uncle pull you away in the opposite direction. “Come on, little petal, got some nice men that’d like to meet you.”

You follow him helplessly past some drawn crimson curtains, already over the drunk men that will press their chapped lips to your face and place their grimy hands all over you. You’re finished though, over all the fake smiles and laughter you are forced to sell these men night after night. When you look back over your shoulder you can’t see him anymore. No more pretty brown eyes that make you feel somehow safe. You don’t know him, his backstory, his name, or even his age, but you’ll find out. You have to, you just have to.

After finishing fixing the two broken tables and putting them back into order, Joel gets another visit from Edward as he saunters over with a big smile and a glass of scotch in his hand.

“Everything going alright?” Edward asks as he pulls on his black tie and straightens out his long tailed coat.

“Yes, sir. Finished fixin’ those tables for you. They should be good to go now,” Joel answers as he stands up straight with his hands deep in his pockets.

“Excellent!” Edward goes over to the wooden tables and knocks on the top, inspecting Joel’s work as he looks them over carefully. Once he’s satisfied he gives Joel a strong pat on the back and nods. “Did good work, boy. Think we’ll keep you around.”

Joel smiles at the compliment, thanking him for the opportunity. “Oh, there’s actually something else that needs to be done. You remember that room we passed on the second floor? The very back room by the balcony? The one that says Sparkling Diamond?”

Joel’s eyes go wide as he recalls passing a big red door with the letters spelled out in fake diamonds. That has to be your room. He should’ve noticed it sooner, maybe asked about it. But he didn’t know that room would belong to the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He didn’t know it until now.

“Uh-yeah. What about it?” he asks cautiously, eyebrow slightly raised in anticipation of what Edward would say next.

“The sink in her kitchen is dripping and some of the lightbulbs are burnt out. There should be some in the supply closet. Think you can handle taking care of that now?”

He doesn’t hesitate a second. “Absolutely. I’ll get right on it,” Joel says urgently.

As he turns to leave, Edward calls his name. “Oh, Joel. Before you leave tonight, go ahead and have a beer. It’s on me.”

Joel doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been offered a free one before, always had to pay money that he didn’t have to get one. “Oh, thank you. I… I appreciate it.”

“You earned it, kid. I’ll see you tomorrow night?” Edward asks with his eyebrows knitted together and gaze heavy on Joel.

“I’ll be here,” he promises.

“Alright, take care now. I’ve got some business to attend to so see you tomorrow.” Edward turns and walks back into a sea of rich men.

Joel pushes his way past men in black suits and black ties, cigars hanging from their open mouths and drinks spilling over their glass cups as they talk about money, sex, stocks, and women. He tunes them out and keeps walking, ignoring the nasty stares he gets from not being in a suit himself.

As soon as he grabs the bag of lightbulbs and a few plumbing tools, he heads up the grand staircase with red carpet sprawled across each step. He makes his way up the stairs, down the narrow dark hallway and stops before he turns the corner. He stands just a few feet from the pleasure room. The red room as they call it here.

He can hear the moans and cries coming from the room, can smell the stench of sex that whisks through the air. He wonders if you go into that room night after night, letting the men with dirty claws sink their nails into you, feasting on you like blood sucking vampires.

His jaw clenches up as his nails sink into the meat of his palm, his face becoming hot with heat as he imagines you splayed out on an open bed while the men take and take from you until you have nothing left to give. Until you’re just a used up rag doll for them to toy with. He snarls and turns the corner sharply, putting those dark thoughts out of his mind. If he had his way he’d make damn sure you’d never set foot in that room again. He’d slaughter a whole fucking mass of men if he had to. No one should lay their filthy hands on you as far as he’s concerned.

He walks through the long corridor, passing door after door until he finally gets to yours. He takes a deep breath and turns the golden doorknob slowly entering the dimly lit room with pale pink wallpaper. He gently shuts the door and when he turns around he stops in his tracks, hand sliding off the doorknob as he sees you standing in the middle of the room. Naked.

Your skin is soft, probably as soft as the back of a rose petal. Your legs are long, smooth, and enticing. He wonders what it’d feel like to run his long fingers over your creamy thighs. You’re bent over, ass in the air, as you unbuckle the straps of the high heels you wore on stage. Your hips are curvy, shaping your round ass into mere perfection. Your full breasts peek out from the corner as your long waves spill over your shoulders. You’re absolutely perfect, stunning, a work of pure art.

Joel knows he’s fucked now. He knows. After seeing how beautiful you are, he can’t turn away. He shouldn’t be standing here gawking at you while you change, but he can’t move. He’s stuck like glue, an immovable object that can’t be pushed. He’s in trouble, so much trouble.

He loses his balance when you bend over again, exposing a different view of you that nearly takes him to his knees. The bag of bulbs falls to the ground with a large crash, and you turn with a quaint gasp as you take in the man that stands before you. It’s him, the man with the dark eyes.

Your eyes go wide, quickly reaching for a thin, sheer robe as you wrap it around you and cover the parts of you that are completely exposed. You breathe hard, your breath coming out rushed and fast. He does the same as he just stands there staring, no air left in his lungs as he stands in front of the beauty that takes his breath away. And then it’s silence, only rushed breaths and pining eyes.

The longer he stares into your captivating eyes, the more he knows he’s fucked. There was no way he was getting out of this now, no way to back down. He was going to make you his one way or another. You would be his. Period.

[jennay]

Ex-Husband (2)

Bitter

An: Mentions of child loss. Also I tried editing this so many times and it never got better. I just kept getting frustrated. I ran through it one more time before being ok with this one. I hope you guys enjoy it though and I’m sorry it’s sad!

Master list

You look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, feeling self-loath. You remember Kieran's words: "Be yourself." But you don't want to be yourself. You want to erase your past and start over somewhere new. Somewhere where no one knows who you are or what you've done. Somewhere where you can lie and pretend to be a good person who never hurt anyone. Somewhere where you don't have to face the demons inside you.

You open the drawer, pull out the little bottle of your anxiety medication, and swallow two tiny pills.

Memories flood your mind as you walk down the hallway. You thought taking down the picture would've helped remove the pain, but it didn't. Now, you stare at empty walls, plagued by the traces of what used to be there. The faded outlines of frames and nails mock you with their emptiness. You stop at the closed bedroom and stare at it, feeling a knot in your throat. You don't know if you can ever enter it again. You don't know if you can face the reminders of what you lost.

You urge yourself to keep walking, and when you reach the living room, you snatch your purse and anything else you might need. You secure your doors and step outside.

Of course, it's raining as if today wasn't hard enough already. You pull your hood over your head and sprint to your car, swiftly unlocking it and tossing your stuff on the passenger's seat.

You start the engine, fastening the seatbelt with extra care. You've seen the consequences of a loose buckle and how a split second can change everything. You still feel the guilt gnawing at your chest.

You rest your head on the steering wheel and let out a shaky breath. “Damn it.” You curse as tears cloud your vision. You lean back and wipe them away. You have to keep it together.

Your phone rings through the Bluetooth speaker. You glance at the screen and see Rory’s name. You know what he wants but aren’t sure if you want to talk to him.

You sigh, knowing you’re breaking your promise. You’re not moving on; you’re still letting him contact you. Seeing him at Jazz's birthday party a few weeks ago almost sent you into another spiral. Why are you doing this? Were you that lonely?

You feel weak knowing you continue to let him text and call you, but at the same time, talking to him feels safe and almost comfortable.

Out of desperation for someone to soothe you, you answer.

"Hey," You say while pulling out of your driveway. You try your best to smile as you speak, hoping he won't hear the sadness in your voice.

"Hey, um. I was just calling to check on you. See how you're doing." He softly says, "Uh, how are you?"

Your eyes threaten to water again. "Shitty." You say, feeling like a broken record that keeps playing the same sad song over and over.

"Me too." He admits. "I was going to go visit her." You can hear the weakness in his voice as he tries to compose himself. "It being her birthday and all, I think she would like us there."

You never thought this was something you'd go through. You never knew heartbreak like this. If someone had told you ten years ago this would be your life, you would have laughed. Your life wasn't some fucked up tragedy.

"Yeah." You quietly say.

"Do you want me to meet you there, or can we drive together? I don't mind picking you up," Rory speaks with uncertainty. He didn't know how to talk to you anymore. He tried to keep things light-hearted and superficial, never getting too deep.

"I'm driving right now." You bite your bottom lip, wondering if you should offer to come to his house.

"Oh," Rory sounds surprised like he didn't think you'd leave bed today. "I can meet you there."

You deeply sigh, "Let me come pick you up. I'm close to you anyway."

"Yeah, I'll just get ready. Text me when you're here. I'll see you shortly."

"Yep, bye." You click the end button, unsure if you made the right decision.

You turn the radio on and do your best to escape your feelings as you continue to Rory's new home. The songs don't help you ignore your feelings like you'd planned. You turn off the radio and drive in silence until you arrive at Rory's house, and when you park on the curb, you text him. Here.

Seconds later, the door opens with a loud creak, and you slightly jump from the sudden sound. You look up and see Rory standing there, holding the door handle. He's wearing a gray zip-up sweater, flannel underneath, and plain blue jeans. He looks comfortable, but his eyes are tense and anxious.

You stare at Rory briefly before grabbing your things to make space for him. "Sorry. I have stuff everywhere." You speak fast as you try to throw some things in the back seat quickly. Talking on the phone was one thing, but sitting next to him brought feelings of discomfort.

“I thought it was supposed to be nice today…” He sighs, gazing at the dark clouds and the raindrops on the window. His voice tinged with sadness.

“The world doesn’t owe us anything.” You reply, sounding harsh.

You feel his eyes on you, searching and questioning you. The way you responded was unexpected. This bitter woman wasn't you.

You hate that he makes you feel weak and exposed and doubt your decisions.

“Stop.” You snap at him, trying to sound angry and confident but only sounding hurt and insecure. “Don't make me doubt myself for letting you in again.” You warn.

He shakes his head, shoulders slumped in defeat. He looks away from you as if avoiding your eyes. He breathes out heavily, revealing his exhaustion.

Rory knows this isn't the best time to bring this up, but he needs to get it off his chest, and after today, who knows when he'll see you again? “You know, I didn’t divorce you to hurt you.” He says in a quiet voice as if admitting a mistake. “I did it because I thought it would be better for both of us. I hoped you would heal and move on like I've tried to.” He meets your gaze again, his blue eyes filled with pain and longing. “I still love you and want the best for you.” He adds softly, making your heart clench. “But I couldn’t stay with you like this. It was tearing me apart to see you suffer and not be able to help you. I felt like I lost both of you.”

“So you decided to leave me alone in that house by myself with all of our things and all of her things and expected me to heal? How could you be so heartless?” You bite your lip, holding back the tears that threaten to spill. “You know what? Forget it..” You say, shaking your head. "I needed my husband...that's what I needed, and you walked away so easily."

“I didn’t want to leave you and it sure as fuck wasn’t easy! (Y/n), you stopped trying! She was gone for a full year! I didn’t know how to deal with it either. There was no guide for what we went through.” He tries to explain, but you can’t listen to him.

You scoff, “Yeah, right. Blame it on me. That’s what you always do. I get it!”

You pull into the cemetery’s parking lot and hastily park the car as if trying to escape him. The sky is a dull gray, reflecting your mood. The air is cold and damp, making you shiver.

You avoid looking at him as you leave the vehicle. You can feel his eyes on you, full of questions, when he sees you approaching him instead of walking away like you usually would. You pull the car door open and glare at him like you’re going to scold him, but your eyes soften when you see him lower his head, “You act like I don’t understand what you’re going through,” He whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. “I lost Gracie too, remember?” He reminds you.

You shake your head, tears filling your eyes and streaming down your face. "No, you don't understand. You don't have to live with knowing you're the reason she's gone." You say bitterly, feeling resentment towards him. "You have a life, a future, a chance to be happy again. I have nothing. Nothing but this pain that won't go away." You say, pointing at your chest.

He reaches out to touch your hand, but you pull away.

"Don't." You warn him. "Don't try to comfort me. Don't try to make me feel better. Don't try to pretend that everything is going to be okay because it's not." You say.

He gets out of the car and stands next to you. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close to him, ignoring your protests and struggles. He’s getting better at ignoring your spew of mean words.

He holds you tight as if afraid to let you go. He kisses the top of your head and whispers in your ear. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there for you when you needed me most.." His voice trembles with emotion. "But we can find a way to heal and move on." He says, hoping his words will reach you and make you feel something other than anger.

You stop fighting and let him hold you, exhausted and drained from the emotional turmoil.

"I'm tired of being like this." You mutter against his chest. "I don't want to be like this, but it hurts so much." You confess.

He gently rubs your back, trying to soothe you. "I know." He kisses your temple, feeling your tears wet his skin. "Let me help you."

But you don't want his help. You fear he'd abandon you again.

You shove him away, escaping his embrace. You stare at him with a blend of sorrow and fury. “You can’t help me.” You snap, turning your back on him. “I don’t deserve to be happy again.” You nearly choked on your words, part of you knowing it wasn't true.

Rory’s mouth falls open, stunned by your words. He watches you walk away from him, feeling powerless and hopeless. He wishes he could make you forgive yourself, but he knows he can’t. He knows he’s losing you and fears it won’t be just mentally much longer.

Part 3

[yetanothersparrowofthedawn]

Now That We Don't Talk

Masterlist

Extended Masterpost

Word Count: 1.3k

Pairing: ex!Jake x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt, ex!Jake

Synopsis: idk at this point, sorry. But here’s the jest of it: Breaking up sucks ass.

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language, so I apologize in advance for mistakes and awkward wordings to come.

Previous Track:  Hits Different (coming soon..)

Chapter soundtrack: Now That We Don’t Talk – Taylor Swift

(By the way, for every ‘Chapter Soundtrack’, basically the idea is that it’s a song that YN eventually wrote with that chapter of her life in mind) Listen to the song, it's basically the entire chapter, I do not have a creative bone in my body, babes.

Guess this is how it was to be Now that we don't talk

Late at night, Y/N found herself lying on her kitchen floor. She scrolled through her phone, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows across her face.

The press had been relentless; capturing glimpses of the lead guitarist of Greta Van Fleet, at various events and gatherings. Well, it was either that or her algorithm was fucked.

She found herself immersed in the snippets of his life presented by the media. His presence, magnetic as ever, effortlessly parting the crowd like the Red Sea in fan edits.

YN, herself hadn’t gone out in a while, choosing to steer clear from the limelight after a couple of nights of binge-drinking had gone more public than she would’ve liked.

Her red eyes captured by flashing lights as she was ushered into a cab by a friend of hers had made the front page for a week. Let’s just say the Sad Girl Era fans had branded her with, wasn’t exactly the kind of publicity she’d wanted out there.

She couldn't help but wonder if he, too, ever got anxious, while on his way home. Did he absentmindedly make a wrong turn towards the street they used to live on? Did he ever, for a fleeting moment, take a hand off the steering wheel to rest it on her thigh, only to find it was no longer there?

Stalking him online had become a guilty indulgence, a masochistic act that she couldn't resist. She lingered a little too long on his Instagram, scrolling through the curated moments of his daily life.

She noticed his hair, even longer than before, framing the features she used to trace with her fingertips. She observed the familiar furrow of his brow as he performed, a guitar pin between his teeth.

From the outside, it all painted a picture of a life moving forward. She remained on the periphery, a quiet observer of the world she used to inhabit. She caught short glimpses of his social life, photos of shared laughs with musicians they once mocked together, videos of studio sessions with a producer he’d once told to fuck off forever.

The bitter truth hung heavy in the air. She no longer had a say in the choices he made, the life he embraced. The silence between them was deafening. She had become an outsider, left outside in the rain, looking through a window at the life of a boy she once knew.

As her mind wandered into the realm of speculation, she couldn't help but wonder what he’d told his friends – those same friends they had once shared dinners and long weekends with. Were they privy to the turbulent love, the passionate highs, and the devastating lows that marked their time together? Few were even aware of their relationship, so would anyone even come to hear of their breakup?

The public was aware she’d moved from Nashville to LA after her latest tour, but only a select few knew why.

She didn’t know what she, herself would choose to say. There was no point in pretending it was platonic. It wasn't some amicable parting where two people decided they were better off as friends. No. Truth was it had just- ended.

She could never be his friend. Can you imagine? She thought. Casually sharing stories over Sunday brunch; smiling for group pictures at birthday parties? She felt ridiculous just thinking about it. After all, they hadn’t been friends to begin with. Not really.

The days and nights stretched endlessly, punctuated by the silence of unsent messages and unspoken calls. Pathetic. That's how she felt. Pathetic for caring, for still being affected by choices that they had made. The more she’d given, the more she laid her heart bare, the less he’d seemed to want her.

A bitter truth gnawed at her consciousness – a realization which had struck her hard, like a sudden gust of cold wind. She was paying the price of what she had lost, and heartbreak didn’t come cheap.

In the quiet hours of the night, phone calls to Patty became a familiar ritual for Y/N, a whispered confessional amid the shadows. Her manager's voice echoed like a guiding beacon in the recesses of her mind.

"Remember, it's all for the best, sugar," Patty would assure her. "Maybe try and get it all off your chest, yeah? You’ll feel better."

Craving the catharsis that only honest introspection could provide, YN eventually heeded the advice. She sat down at the piano and opened her notebook to a crisp white page. Pen in hand, she began to write.

She tried reminding herself of the way he'd faded ‘till she’d left. A distant star dimming until it was barely a shimmer in the night sky. A black hole whose pull she’d barely escaped.

Every stroke of ink presented an attempt to convince herself she was, of course, so much better off now. As it is written, so it shall be done, or some shit like that.

Let’s see. Now that they didn't talk… well, first off, she didn’t have to keep acid rock in her shower playlist. She no longer had to pretend to revel in the company of so-called industry legends on some yachts. No longer found herself forced to feign interest in these obsolete men’s very important thoughts on the death of good music when she’d much rather jump off the deck.

Quite a relief, right? She smiled bitterly. She was a compulsive liar, even in the privacy of her own apartment, in the secrecy of her own thoughts.

Those weren’t the things that she was glad to be rid of. But the unfiltered truth would look too ugly on paper. It would sound too coarse on the radio.

Frustration seeped into her bones, settling like an unwelcome guest. She didn’t know who or what she was even trying to protect.

She wondered if he, too, lingered on her social media, if he glanced at the magazine covers when he stopped by a gas station. She shook her head. What magazine covers? She’d been trying to stay as far as she could from the press.

In an attempt to recover a shred of her dignity, she’d tried turning back into a shrouded mystery. And failed miserably. Fans and critics alike couldn’t get enough of her enigmatic persona, and it seemed she couldn’t go anywhere without people following her.

Success had never tasted to bittersweet.

Could be worse, though, she thought. She could’ve been heartbroken and shunned. Plus, it may have all been for the best. After all, the flash of cameras was the only bridge they had yet to burn. The only way they could haunt each other without having to do the dirty work themselves.

And this was simply how it had to be, now that they didn't talk.

______

One night, at the ungodly hour of four in the morning, her phone's shrill ring shattered the stillness, causing her to bolt upright from her couch.

"Patty?" YN's voice was thick with sleep as she answered the call, squinting at the glaring screen. "Do you know what time it is?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sitting down, what is it?" she asked, her tone tinged with apprehension.

YN listened intently and, after a prolonged pause, she breathed out, "Oh my god."

A mere twenty minutes later, she found herself settling into the backseat of a cab, her mind racing

The driver's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Where to?" he inquired, casting a curious glance at her through the rearview mirror.

"LAX, please," she instructed.

(Welp… guess who’s about to be talking again lol)

Next Track: Beautiful People with Beautiful Problems

Hope you all liked it! Please interact lol, I am desperate for any reaction at all. Help a girl out, peaceful army. Xxx

Taglist

@aintthatapity

@sinarainbows

@vanfleeter 

@gretavanhockey

[icequeenlila]

Avatar Human AU- Christmas (slight Locorro)

It's Christmas Day

Spider comes over to the Sully household

the holidays turn Neytiri soft enough to let him stay the night

Neteyam and Neytiri are in the kitchen, preparing for dinner

Jake and the rest of the kids are in the living room, decorating the tree

there are christmas songs playing through the house and Jake, Lo'ak and Spider are singing along, horribly out of tune

they think they are hilarious, but Kiri is actually considering violence

also, she is annoyed bc the boys and Tuk have no sense of aesthetic

she has her own vision for the christmas tree, but dosen't stand a chance against her family's chaos

but she's having fun ofc

Lo'ak and Spider are goofing around as always

Spider almost lands in the tree at one point, Tuk screaming at the top of her lungs

when they are done, Neteyam comes from the kitchen to lift Tuk up, so she can put the star onto the top of the tree

Lo'ak and Spider are badly pining, and painfully oblivious

Kiri is SO done with them, and Neteyam is laughing at her misery

uncle Norm is chillin on the couch, tipsy from one eggnog too many

tipsy enough to laugh at Jake's dad jokes

later that day, Tuk freaks out bc Jake forgott to set a timer for her christmas cookies

they turn out slightly on the burnt side

what is she supposed to leave for Santa now? He won't leave her any presents! Dad, you had one job!

everyone helps trying to save her cookies with a hideous amount of frosting

Tuk: "But they won't taste good!"

Jake: "Don't worry, Santa eats so many cookies in one night. Most of them, he only takes with him, so the children won't be sad. I heard we are pretty much the last house on his list, so he'll just save them for his elves. He'll never know."

Tuk is impressed with her father's knowledge

Neytiri is torn between smiling and frowning

she never was too big of a fan, telling their kids the lie of an old man climbing down their chimney, bringing them gifts

her parents never made her and Sylwanin believe in Santa

but still, she loves the way her daughter's eyes light up, and how fond the smile on Jake's face is when talking about it

so she says nothing

Lo'ak actually believed in Santa until he was fourteen

Jake was already starting to sweat when he realized his youngest son wasn't taking the hint

how do you explain to your child that you basically lied to them their whole life?

Easy. You let your daughter handle it.

Kiri did the job

Lo'ak was surprisingly chill when she finally opened his eyes

Lo'ak: "Actually, that makes a lot more sense."

Spider is super happy to spend christmas with his friends, since the relationship with his dad isn't the best

the Sully kids have a present prepared for him

they have worked on it collectively

it's a collage with pictures of all of them:

the freak trio (Kiri, Lo'ak, Spider) on the ice rink, Spider and Lo'ak to each of Kiri's sides, holding her hands so she won't lose her balance

Neteyam holding Spider in a headlock, grinning widely at the camera (Spider bet he could beat him in a fight)

Spider sitting on the ground, bows all over his hair, eyes closed shut as Tuk sprays glitter all over his head

Spider in Jake's wheel chair, screaming, Lo'ak behind him, laughing his ass off as he drives both of them down an empty steep road (it's actually a screen shot from the video they had took to send Kiri)

(they had stolen some weed from Norm before doing this, hence their stupidity)

(Lo'ak got grounded for a month after this, and Spider wasn't allowed to come over during that time)

Neteyam was the one to go to the copy shop to print out the pictures

Tuk had colored the frame herself (very colourful, with a heavy use of glitter)

Lo'ak was the one to work strictly under Kiri's command, cutting out the pictures neatly as she arranged them to look good (Kiri could get a tiny bit scary when it came to her aesthetic, Lo'ak didn't argue once)

Spider smiles and laughs over the pics they had chosen, but everyone can see that he's barely holding back tears

they don't make it a big deal, the present says it all (they care!)

Kiri secretly gifts him another framed picture, one of the time the trio had a movie nigh

the boys both fell asleep on the couch, and somehow Lo'ak ended up on Spider's chest

Kiri had taken several pictures (as blackmail)

Spider blushes madly when he sees it, and immediately stuffs it into his bag

+

This is vague, but it's just supposed to be something short and cute, sooo....

I came up with all of this while decorating our tree. I have a vague part 2. The Locorro part to be more clear. If I get the impression you like this, I'll give it more thought.

A happy Christmas to all of you! I hope you are well and healthy and I wish you all the best!!!✨

[charleslee-valentine]

For the Texas Chainsaw Massacre Fanworks Event Day 7- It’s a Nice Picture!

Ship(s): Implied Franknub (Franklin Hardesty x Nubbins Sawyer)

Word count: ~1700

Warnings: Abuse, injury recovery, mild panic attack, implied character death, unreality towards the end, bad self image.

@texas-chainsaw-fanworks

___________

Taking pictures always used to be easy.

Easier than even feeding the chickens, which was his easiest chore!

He even thought it could be fun now and again. There was never much of that around the farm, fun was when he got to leave and adventure. But that was never very often, so he chased it when he could get it.

Running in the sunflower field, wind making his hair all tickly, snapping blurry photos of the beauty, was the most fun he had that didn’t involve some kind of danger. Unless tripping on his face and busting his nose up counted.

But that was before.

Now Nubbins, with his homemade wrist braces, can’t even hold his camera for more than a few minutes.

Bobby helped him build a stand to hold it up on, which helps him get extra special pictures, even ones he’s in. It helps that a few years after the accident, he got a new camera, one with a delay on its shutter.

The problem is being fast enough to get in the shot.

Ever since his brothers had to piece him back together, Nubbins hasn’t really walked much. Franklin Hardesty's wheelchair is occupied, but they found one just like his for Nubbins to have. His wheels are slower than his legs were though, or at least he thinks so. They feel slower.

There’s at least a giant stack of pictures of just his back that prove he isn’t quick enough to get into the frame.

It gets frustrating.

Nubbins has taken to hiding the bad pictures. Some part of him gets embarrassed by not being able to keep up with his old self. A bigger part is angry.

That growing anger is probably the reason why he eventually boils over, and tears up a picture with his dumb shaky hands.

He’d been trying to capture a moment of the family all together, and trying to make it natural. Pictures where everyone’s posing and stiff feel too pretend. Like they don’t like each other.

Nubbins wanted desperately to prove they did.

He was just desperate to feel like he was still cared for.

But he’d failed at even that.

Five pictures of his blurry, ghastly figure blocking the game of cards his brothers were playing, and he’d just totally broken down.

It wasn’t even easy to rip it up. The sticky, plasticky texture was strong. He only got it into three pieces before Bobby grabbed his wrists and stopped him.

“Nooooo. No! S-Stop it.” He’d chided like Nubbins was their pet raccoon.

Nubbins was so mad he could’ve hissed like a raccoon. If he were stronger, maybe he’d bite and claw and maim too.

He felt so worthless.

The little pieces of broken picture fell to the floor, one after the other. Discarded. Jinxed.

All of a sudden, it felt hard to breathe. Nubbins started freaking out for real. It was bad luck to do that to a photo. Everyone in his family could get hurt. Torn into little tiny pieces, just like they looked in the ruined photo.

He’d looked at Bobby and felt so much dread and guilt, thinking about him getting hurt again because of him, after all he’d been through from the war and stuff. Words were supposed to come out, but all that did was a sob. Pathetic and wet and sad sounding.

Bobby hugged him, which meant Bubba got up and hugged them both in one big scoop of his arms. Normally, Nubbins would never give in that easy to a crushing hug, finding it more fun to run (or wheel, more accurately) away from affection and be chased down.

This time hadn’t been normal.

Nobody was ever supposed to see him break down. Those moments were for when you’re totally weakened, alone behind closed and shuttered and locked up tight doors. At least, according to Drayton.

But as Nubbins cried and cried and got cooed at by his younger brother and twin, Drayton seemed compassionate too. As much as the old bastard could be.

He’d patted Nubbins’ head and shoo’d off his brothers.

“There, there now. You just, you just wait here and those boys’ll fix it up for you. Won’t they?”

The last part is through gritted teeth. Bobby got a whack on the head to encourage him, sending him scrambling to the floor to pick up the pieces of the ripped picture. Bubba ran off to find something to fix it with, while Bobby went straight to the table, shoving the settings aside to have a workspace.

Drayton continued to calm Nubbins, in the familiar, but strange way, “Just quiet up, boy. It’ll be right as rain in a minute.”

For some reason, Nubbins believed him every time. He hugged his brother even though he never hugged back. Drayton just promised,

“Look, I-I’ll even hang it on the wall. Anywhere you’d like it.”

“I-It’s not a..a good p-pi’ture..” Nubbins had argued bashfully.

“You boys ain’t good neither, but I keep you ‘round.” Drayton cackled at himself. Like something was funny.

“Outta m-my way.” Bobby interrupted by shoving right into Drayton and making him stumble, so he could show off the picture. It was taped back together and had a couple of stickers on the tears too. “W-We did it, bro!”

“See. All better now. Nothin’ to… got no more worries.” Drayton pat Nubbins on the shoulder one more time, and left the room into the kitchen. Probably to calm himself after being pushed by Bobby. That had been enough emotional outreach for him for the day.

Not for Bobby. He still wanted to cheer nubbins up with compliments and such, “Bubba says he r-reeeally likes th-this’n. Y-You made him look p-pretty!”

Bubba had even testified to it with his high pitched babbles off to the side.

That did actually help to make Nubbins feel at least a little better, “Y-You think so?”

Bobby nodded and his head made a weird, metal clicky sort of sound, “F-For sure! I-I likes it, c-cause you’s in it. Not a-all the w-way but that’s okay. L-Looks real good, a-anyway. Look at ya s-smilin’.”

Nubbins hadn’t realized how happy he looked before he got upset. The smile from the past come back to brighten his face.

That made Bobby cheer in celebration of his twins happiness, “There i-it is! The r-real life thing!”

They both matched perfectly in that moment, their smiles alight and their hands dancing and flapping and playing. With Drayton busy out of the room, there was nobody to make them stop either.

Though Bubba had had to come over and lock the little brakes on Nubbins’ chair wheels, since he was scared of his brother wiggling around too much and rolling away.

His appearance made Bobby remember something, an idea he’d had, “Y-You don’ gotta talk. I-I know you’s f-feelin’ better. So.. So I-I’d like it, i-if you come with us, o-on this next tr-trip.”

Automatically, Nubbins’ smile dropped and he shook his head.

Bobby wouldn’t hear it, “Y-You’ll be alright. Me and B-Bubba’ll look out for-for ya. W-We’re real good, a-aren’t we, Bubba?”

For a moment, Bubba was frozen, figuring out if it was even safe to make promises to Nubbins, and he decided it was, or at least decided to lie, ‘cause then he’d nodded and given a little thumbs up.

Nubbins felt encouraged, “I-I do wanna get some- some good o-outside pi’tures. Been a l-long time since I seen flowers.”

Which had been perfectly true. He hadn’t left the house in a long, long time, not since they settled here in battle land, and it was starting to drive him as looney as the head wound drove Bobby.

Bobby who, from his brothers vague agreement, got even more excited and started jumping around, “Yeah! We’ll t-take ya! W-We’ll show ya good!”

All the shouting drew big brother back into the room to break it up, with one quick warning, “After supper.”

“But-“ Bobby tried to argue.

It fell on deaf ears, “I’m ‘bout ready to kick you in your butt if you don’t your skinny ass in here and help.”

“J-Just think about it. Okay?” Bobby asked Nubbins before he ran off with Cook. When he didn’t respond immediately, Bobby grabbed his shoulders lightly and gave him a little shake, “O-Okay, Nubbins?”

He nodded. Gave a thumbs up like Bubba did. When it hurts to talk or he just doesn’t want to, Nubbins has learned to communicate more the way their brother does. Afterall, thirty-some-odd years of doin’ it that way was goin’ just fine.

Nubbins wasn’t sure everything was exactly fine, but it felt close to okay, knowing he was being included again. They’d hold their word and keep him safe. Just like they did with fixing up the photo.

Right, the photo! He was supposed to look for a spot to hang it up!

Nubbins wheeled around a little bit, since he couldn’t just lift his head, with a broken neck and all. He stopped when the tunnel overhead led to his favorite part of the house, the hall with all the lights. Nubbins decided he’d go up there and visit with Franklin before he made up his mind on the trip.

Franklin always understood bein’ underestimated and afraid. It was only natural he did, given their food, if they ever got close to running off, still thought he was a victim too after all this time staying with the Sawyers. You could look in his eye and see he’s a natural born killer, but put him in them wheels and suddenly he can’t do no foul.

If Frankie could kill ‘round battleland, maybe Nubbins really could go on trips too!

Oh, can’t forget- Nubbins grabbed his camera and his pouch from where he’d dropped it down to the ground after his outburst. Franklin would wanna see his pictures. He always did. It probably got lonely up there, in his little room that he doesn’t leave.

Nubbins would visit more, if only there were ramps his wheels could get up. Maybe he’d have the courage to ask for help building one sometime.

After the chili cook-off, he swore. They’ll get the trophy, they’ll be number one, and Drayton’ll be so darn happy he’d let Nubbins and his wheelchair go anywhere he wanted.

[drinkingbitterboy]

alright. i have emotionally recovered from miles posting on instagram this morning, which truly threw off my plan to do a little concert recap bc i was busy yelling at my phone/on tumblr. as you do.

a couple notes:

i don't really do concert photos; literally took a grand total of 4 during the actual show. so sorry, don't have much there!

i did not get a poster :( turns out they ran out before AM even went on stage?? i'm sad, but not too pressed bc really i'd much rather have a good view than wait in the merch line.

here we go!!

so getting into the arena was kind of a shit show lmao. we rolled up around door open and the line stretched 5 city blocks and doubled back on itself; it was mostly organized but asshats loved to pop in when the line got broken up by the streets. took us almost an hour to make it our five blocks and the line behind us was still just as long by then. at least folks waiting by us in line were nice! beyond nice conversation the true highlight was outfit spotting. shoutout to the absolutely dedicated guy who showed up in the full on fwn clown outfit complete with face paint by himself. in this weather! found a couple folks dressed exactly like the car alex (again, why are you wearing a blazer in this weather) and you know. felt real old about it seeing some of the other concert outfits. i'm sorry, not to be judgemental of the tiktok girlies, but holy shit. i managed to out myself once as a weird fan about it bc i had "inside knowledge" aka i saw the ig stories james and davey posted lmao. i'm so sorry i'm incapable of holding it in when i want to correct someone. had a grand time talking to some people in line next to me around my age; one of them even had an old sias shirt from seeing them live back then! good bonding about "hey what have you done since they announced this album?" one guy switched jobs twice, we got married, and the other couple had a baby. jfc.

further highlights include the person who wrote the batphone and cheeseburger notes, a couple other car truck bits i didn't take pics of saying things like "who the fuck are the arctic monkeys", and the true comedy of whoever designed the tickets. big mike wazowski energy

fontaines dc sounded great! a lot of folks around me had no clue who they were, though. so the crowd wasn't too excited overall. also i have no idea who put together the playlist in between sets bc it was nuts.

and then: the big reveal (that i then updated tumblr on)

i'm really surprised the whole set made it! the anticipation before they took the curtain down was absolutely palpable. also, didn't get a picture of it but at one point someone had a giant pole and was trying to poke something right at at the top of the frame of the screen. no idea what that was about but it was hilarious. not pictured: the bonus screens on either side of the stage.

an aside: my partner is fucking hilarious. every time a roadie came on state with an instrument he'd go "i don't think that one is a monkey." he also generally calls them the "monkfys" anyway bc he really latched onto that clip aksdjfs

so this was interesting! they didn't show the body paint symbols at all on any of the screens; instead, they showed this colorful wheel thing.

and then the actual show. oh my word. opening with sculptures was absolutely my dream and honestly i don't have words for what it's like to see alex in person. he's absolutely captivating. hypnotizing. one of the most amazing things is watching how he proceeds through the show--how he goes from suave and put together with his choreographed arm movements for emphasis and his little things like the little bubble pop in that song. and then he starts to loosen up (along with his hair), we get the silly dramatic theatre kid during cornerstone and do me a favour, and by the time we hit body paint he's just completely letting loose. even when they played much of the usual setlist and i obviously know the music super well--better than anyone else around me--it was still absolutely thrilling to just be there and listen to the music and sing loudly and jump around until we felt the floorboards creak. they felt really high energy last night! turns out coming off of a break is good for them!

related, getting to watch the transformation into the poofy lion hair in real life is incredible.

i must admit, i am not immune to things like alex waving in our general direction to the crowd and walking over to our side of the stage and all of the charming bits. just can't help it.

otherwise, the only other person i could consistently see was nick - we were standing stage right, maybe 15 yards back? so you know. gorgeous as always. i'm sure jamie was wonderful also in his insane leather jacket -- didn't see him at all lol. i managed to get a very convenient window to center stage so i actually saw alex a decent amount. worked out well because i couldn't actually see the screens super well. i'm short. here's the only two pictures i actually took of the band, right at the beginning:

and now for the rest of the setlist -- we all know they played a lot of the usual suspects. as expected, much of the crowd was pretty young and very invested in only AM and the hype songs. i didn't mind; at least i wasn't the only person screaming for perfect sense (weren't a lot of us, i was the only one in my general area, but that's alright. i don't care.) my spouse was entertained by the person next to us who looked up the spotify set playlist in between every song; he was like "why look it up? if you don't know the songs well enough to identify by intro then how is the list supposed to help?" anyway, holy shit when is snap getting out of the playlist? and yet even though i was not thrilled by it it was still so fun to sing along.

4 out of 5 had a really funny bit at the end while he was just kinda ad libbing lines. "four stars out of five, not quite there yet, but almosttttt." teddy picker and view from the afternoon were absolutely fantastic, too. and then we get the basic AM bits again, though turns out the crowd was also really hype for fluorescent adolescent. 10/10

i was so goddamn loud for perfect sense. shoutout to the spouse again for only knowing that song bc i learned to play it and then played it constantly bc i wanted to manifest it aksjdflaskdj

he was constantly saying "very nice. very nice. very good" in between songs, which was adorable. "hope you're having a lovely evening, folks." as my partner put it: "very good. that's him like yes, i've met my crowd interaction quota for the night"

and then of course we brought out the drama for do me a favour and cornerstone. i cracked up that there were already gifs of the "forcing a smile" bit by the time i got home.

mirrorball started with alex conducting the stings again. i love it so much. also makes my musician ass miss performing lmao. but really, i can't get over how good mirrorball is. it's so dramatic, so emotional, then the actual mirrorball reveal??? i cried. it's insane. it's beautiful. it's honestly indescribable. i generally don't like people filming a lot or taking tons of pictures but you know what? mirrorball is an exception. holy mother of god.

and then 505!! i know i mentioned this earlier but really??? the mirrorball is only lit up like this for 505 and then they pull it back up?? there better be a mirrorball for me, he says, then we pull it down for the very miles song, and then they get rid of it???????? i had some thoughts.

our end of the stage got a bit distracted during do i wanna know bc we had someone go down in the crowd and had to call someone over to help. good news is that they were pretty close to the wall/barrier so it was easy to make space. even so, i realy can't get over how good that guitar sounds.

and then body paint. we've all seen videos of the extended outro and really, truly, it's just a life-altering experience to watch it life. it sounded incredible, it looked incredible with the rainbow lights, everyone looked like they were having a blast. i am a little biased bc i'm so attached to that song i'm getting tattoos about it on monday lmao. but man. not over it.

and finally the encore. ONE POINT PERSPECTIVE?????? i was NOT expecting it and absolutely lost my shit. unfortunately at this point bc we did some shifting around i no longer had a good view of anything. so it goes.

dancefloor, as always, was an absolute jam. bonus points bc now it's forever associated with our wedding. and r u mine had the place going nuts bc you know, the AM only folks, but really, i am also not immune to how hard that song goes.

all in all, that concert was absolutely incredible. i had an absolute BLAST and it was such a joy. i loved getting to be loud and truly did not care that there were bits where i was the only one who knew all the words. even my partner who is only really a tangential am fan had a really good time. they sounded amazing. i'm absolutely still on a high from it. hopefully the transition to a smaller venue again after the huge stadium tour was nice for the band, too!

and now time for some more coffee.

[puckrph]

FALL OUT BOY'S "SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST" STARTERS

taken from the 2023 album. feel free to change pronouns, etc.

LOVE FROM THE OTHER SIDE

' i'm dying out here. ' ' what would you trade the pain for? ' ' we were a hammer to the statue of david. ' ' we were a painting you could never frame. ' ' you were the sunshine of my lifetime. ' ' this city always hangs a little bit lonely on me, loose like a kid playing pretend in his father's suit. ' ' i'd never go, i just want to be invited. ' ' you've got to give up. ' ' don't fight it. ' ' i'm sending my love from the other side of the apocalypse. ' ' i just about snapped. ' ' don't look back. ' ' every lover's got a little dagger in their hand. ' ' i'm falling in and out of love. ' ' i'm getting that tilted feeling. ' ' nowhere left for us to go but heaven. ' ' summer's falling through our fingers again. ' ' we're taught we've gotta get ahead no matter what it takes, but there's no way off the hamster wheel on this rat race. ' ' i saw you in a bright clear field, hurricane heat in my head. ' ' it's the kind of pain you feel to get good in the end. ' ' give up what you love before it does you in. '

HEARTBREAK FEELS SO GOOD

' no matter what they tell you, the future's up for grabs. ' ' is there a word for a bad miracle? ' ' nobody said the road was endless. ' ' nobody said the climb was friendless. ' ' could we please pretend this won't end? ' ' it was an uphill battle, but they didn't know we were gonna use the roads as a ramp to take off. ' ' we could cry a little, or cry a lot. ' ' don't stop dancing. ' ' don't you dare stop. ' ' we'll cry later or cry now. ' ' we could dance our tears away, emancipate ourselves. ' ' but baby, heartbreak feels so good. ' ' heartbreak feels so good. ' ' we said we'd never grow up. ' ' it's open season on blue moods. '

HOLD ME LIKE A GRUDGE

' when you ask how i've been, i know you mean well. ' ' who am i dialing tonight? ' ' that's a bummer. ' ' burn feelings for twenty summers. ' ' i'm just a cherub riding comets through the night sky, screaming at the stars like night lights. ' ' i love my life. ' ' i guess i'm getting older, cause i'm less pissed. ' ' to the end of the world. ' ' you put the "fun" into dysfunction. ' ' hold me like a grudge. ' ' the world is always spinning, and i can't keep up. ' ' i can't do it on my own. ' ' part-time soulmate, full-time problem. ' ' i guess somehow we made it back with a few dreams of ours still intact. ' ' i am a diamond on the inside, just add the pressure. ' ' i know it's inside me, but i've got no map to my own treasure. ' ' i thought i knew better. ' ' i thought it would get better. ' ' i figured somehow by now i would have got it together. ' ' if you put your heart in it, then we'll do more than just get by together. ' ' i'm like a storm on the horizon. '

FAKE OUT

' take a knife and cut through the darkness. ' ' i make no plans, so none can be broken. ' ' remember us just like this forever. ' ' this can't last. it won't last. ' ' do you laugh about me whenever i leave? or do i just need more therapy? ' ' love is in the air, i just gotta figure out a window to break out. ' ' i'm buried alive inside my dreams. ' ' my mood board is just pictures of you. ' ' i'm not sad anymore. ' ' i didn't take the love when i had the chance. ' ' do i still need more therapy? ' ' we all started off as shiny dimes, but we all got flipped too many times. ' ' we did it for futures that never came and for pasts that we're never gonna change. '

HEAVEN, IOWA

' you and i and a screw top bottle of wine? ' ' i feel so "a star is born." ' ' kiss my cheek. ' ' would you read my eulogy? ' ' i will never ask you for anything, except to dream sweet of me. ' ' when the party ends, will you still love who i am? ' ' scar crossed lovers forever. ' ' i'm checking myself out forever. ' ' i'm saving this all for later. ' ' here, we are untouched forever. ' ' they don't know how much they'll miss, at least until you're gone like this. ' ' save your breath. ' ' half your life, you've been hooked on death. ' ' half my life i've been hooked on death. ' ' twice the dreams, but half the love. ' ' be careful what you bottle up. ' ' the chemistry is a mess, it seems, but i'm still a sunbeam. ' ' i closed my eyes inside of your darkness and found your glow. ' ' shake things up, and see what comes down. '

SO GOOD RIGHT NOW

' i got this doom and gloom in my mind. ' ' i feel alright. ' ' let's sneak in from the cheap seats. ' ' we'll drive until the engine just gives up. ' ' feeling so good right now, so we'll crash and burn somehow. ' ' i know i've made mistakes, but at least they were mine to make. ' ' all of our wildest dreams, they just end up with you and me. ' ' i was drifting from the start, and i ripped myself apart. ' ' i'll be whatever you need me to be. ' ' i'll cut myself down to whatever you need me to be. '

THE PINK SEASHELL

' my parents got divorced when i was five years old. ' ' i saw my father about three times a year after that. ' ' he gives me this big pink seashell, and he says to me "the answers are all inside of this." and i'm all like, "what?" now i realize that the shell's empty. there's no point to any of this. ' ' it's all just a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. ' ' so i take pleasure in the detail, you know? a quarter pounder with cheese, those are good. the sky about ten minutes before it started to rain. a moment where your laughter becomes a cackle. '

I AM MY OWN MUSE

' here i am. ' ' not sure you should take a chance. ' ' i like playing dumb, letting you figure me out. ' ' i was faded, in my own defense. ' ' drop a bomb on all the things we dreamed about. ' ' smash all the guitars 'til we see all the stars. ' ' we've got to throw this year away like a bad luck charm. ' ' the trumpets bring the angels, but they never came. ' ' no one let them in, 'cause they didn't know my name. ' ' i know i keep my feelings tucked away. ' ' it's just another day spent hoping we don't fall apart. ' ' let's twist the knife again, like we did last summer. ' ' i'm just trying to keep it together, but it gets a little harder when it never gets better. ' ' i'm trying to keep it together. '

FLU GAME

' i guess to you now i'm just a face in the crowd. ' ' oh, god. kindly, please, would you kill me now? ' ' late at night in my room, i lie awake, think of you. ' ' last night i dreamt i still knew you. ' ' i carved out a place in this world for two, but it's empty without you. ' ' i've got all this love i've got to keep to myself. ' ' it takes all this effort to make it look effortless. ' ' confront all the pain like a gift under the tree. ' ' i can't be who you need me to be. ' ' i'm so real that i feel fake. ' ' one day, every candle's gotta run out of wax. ' ' one day, no one will remember me when they look back. ' ' i can't stop 'til we catch all your ears, though. i'm somewhere between mike tyson and van gogh. '

BABY ANNIHILATION

' time is luck, and i wish ours overlapped more, or for longer. ' ' the first time i took the mask off, just had another one on underneath. ' ' i'm just melted wax on a birthday cake. ' ' another year fades away. ' ' it's self-sabotage at best. ' ' you know what they say: if you want a job done right, you gotta do it yourself. ' ' this palace was crystal, but the world was a cruel joke. ' ' what is there between us, if not a little annihilation? '

THE KINTSUGI KID (TEN YEARS)

' i'm pretty sure, as far as humans go, i'm a hard pill to swallow. ' ' i'm not your intended dose. ' ' roll the highlights. ' ' i've got the wrong insides. ' ' i spent ten years in a bit of chemical haze. ' ' i miss the way that i felt. ' ' i passed my old street, the house i grew up in. it breaks your heart. ' ' i felt you at the beginning, but i needed you at the end. ' ' stop me if you've heard this all before too many times after too much alcohol. ' ' you don't know me anymore. '

WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE

' that's the way the world used to be before our dreams started bursting at the seams. ' ' we're out here and we're ready. ' ' i don't care if it's pretty. ' ' the view's so pretty from the deck of a sinking ship. ' ' everything is lit except my serotonin and my lightning bolt brain. ' ' i just need someone to hold me. ' ' i just need someone to hold me, even though you don't even know me. ' ' what a time to be alive. ' ' they say i should try meditation, but i don't want to be with my own thoughts. ' ' i just want to be your cherry on top. ' ' when i said "leave me along," this isn't quite what i meant. ' ' what's left? ' ' sometimes you wonder if we're ever looking back. '

SO MUCH (FOR) STARDUST

' i'm in a winter mood, dreaming of spring. ' ' i've been burning myself down. ' ' i feel like something that's been stretched out, over and over again, until i'm creased and i'm about to break down the middle. ' ' stars are the same as ever. ' ' i don't have the guts to keep it together. ' ' i'm stuck in the permafrost. ' ' life is just a game. ' ' i'm stuck in a lonely loop. ' ' so much for stardust. we thought we had it all. ' ' i need the sound of crowds, or i can't fall asleep at night. ' ' i can't take my thoughts. ' ' another year of possibilities left unwrapped like gifts the day right after christmas passed. ' ' i'm pretty positive my pain isn't cool enough. ' ' ache 'til you make it. ' ' i think i've been going through it, and i've been putting your name to it. ' ' in another life, you were my babe. ' ' in another life, you were the sunshine of my lifetime? ' ' what would i trade the pain for? i'm not sure. ' ' i used to be a real go-getter. ' ' i used to think it'd all get better. '

[venusorbits]

WATCHING NOW...

STUDIO SESSION

[ 18:05 HOUR, MARCH 11, 2010... ]

"I wrote down some lyrics." You flipped your phone towards the camera, "I just wrote the chorus."

You scratch your cheek humming to yourself chewing on your bottom lip.

"I haven't written the verse yet but I have no idea how the melody would go." You leaned back on your chair with a shrug, "I will play around with how it will sound on the guitar since I wanted a pop rock album."

You wave your hands towards the camera before ending it.

[ 20:30 HOUR, MARCH 11, 2010... ]

It cuts to you sitting on the floor with your beloved electric guitar on your lap, strumming lightly, nodding along with the rhythm you had just created. Seemingly satisfied, you pause and adjusted to prop it up on the table instead of it being on the floor.

"Here I am, I wanted a light strum of the guitar for the intro of the song." You struggle to put your thoughts into words, "Then transition to a more... Hm... I don't know how to describe it. But, just picture pop-rock, strum of the guitar."

You stare off into dead air that last lasted for a minute. Face contorting before bursting into a sneeze.

"Anyways-" You acted as if it was nothing, brushing it off your shoulder, sniffing lightly.

Your manager Mira pipes up from the behind the camera and laughing loudly.

"What was that?"

"What?"

"You're acting so nonchalantly. It made me laugh."

You stare at her.

"Nocha... What?" Your eyebrows draws together.

"Nonchalantly."

You eyes shift from side to side.

"I don't understand Korean." Scrunching your face at the camera.

[ cut ]

[ 08:46 HOUR, MARCH 12, 2010... ]

You set the camera on top of the closed lid of the smooth black piano, ensuring that you were in frame, clearing your throat and tossing your hair over shoulder. Sitting up straight. Fingers smoothly moving smoothly across the keys.

Humming lowly and mouthing the lyrics that you have written the night before.

"Good morning." Your producer, Alex Kim, who had about 6 years of experience under his belt in the music industry and music producing, enters through the door holding a steaming cup of coffee.

"Good morning."

"Do you want some coffee?"

You whipped your head around confused.

"What?" [ DITE misheard 커피 ( coffee ) to 코피 ( nosebleeds ) which sounded similar to her. ]

"Coffee."

"Why would I want a nosebleed?"

He smiles at you and an amused chuckle escapes his lips.

"Coffee. Not nosebleeds."

"Oh."

"Tell me, what you're working with." He sips on the hot liquid before setting it down on a small table. Leaning on a wall beside the piano.

"I was thinking for this song there should be light strums of the electric guitar." You told your producer who nods along, "I played it on the piano but it sounds a little different from what I envision. Somewhat a little too sad in my opinion."

"It will go somewhat like this-"

I used to miss your calls. Now, I sit around with 30 3AM missed calls Should have said I love you when you called me yours Now you're hoping I pick up.

"Something like that." You finish off.

"That was really good." He compliments

"Really? I stayed up till midnight to figure out the melody."

"Is this the chorus?"

"Yes."

"We should use for the beginning and then moves to a verse."

"Okay, I like that idea!"

"Have thought of how it should sound instead on the electric guitar?"

"Yeah, somewhat but, it's not as polished as I'd like it to be."

He grabs the electric guitar hands it to you.

"Play it." You proceed to demonstrate the melody to him.

"Okay, I get what you mean." He sat himself on the wheel office chair gliding across the wooden floor of the recording studio, " He grabs his own guitar planting on his lap. You take the camera and filmed him as he proceeds to strum the perfect melody.

"OH! That's exactly what I was thinking."

"Now, that we have that out of the way. We need to start working on the melody for the rest of the song."

[ cut ]

[ 09:55 HOUR, MARCH 12, 2010... ]

You were in the booth.

You slip on your headphones over your ear, slightly adjusting, with one of them off your ear. Slinging the straps of your guitar over your shoulder, Alex adjusted the microphone while you fine tune the guitar to perfection.

"Okay, we're recording the strumming first." Alex stood up straight, "Are you ready?"

"No... This one-" You turn one of the keys, playing a soft tune, "Yeah, this one is great."

"Good."

He left the padded room as he sat on the other side of the glass. There was a soft tap of the metronome echoed on your ear, fingers delicately strumming the strings of the electric guitar.

[ 17:29 HOUR, MARCH 12, 2010... ]

[ transition ]

You are curled up on the sofa heavily concentrated on the pink notebook in your hand, tapping the end of your pen on your lip, black lens glasses perched on your nose framing your eyes. Your legs brought up to your chest wrapped in a fluffy blanket.

The instrumental melody playing

Your eyes lights up as you came up with another line in mind.

[ 17:09 HOUR, MARCH 20, 2010... ]

[ cut ]

"Can we pause from here please?"

He presses the key to pause the music. You were standing in the middle of the isolated and padded recording room, headphones placed over your ear and piece of paper in your hand with doodles and scribbles scattered on it.

"There's something missing here." You look at Alex through the window of the recording studio, "Can we add like..."

You imitated the sound into the microphone.

"Oh... The synthesizer?"

You look around unsure.

"Uh... I guess."

[ 19:00 HOUR, MARCH 21, 2010... ]

[ zooms ]

Your fingers move across the keys.

[ 23:40 HOUR, MARCH 23, 2010... ]

[ cut ]

Your camera zooms into the equipment in front of you before panning over to the older man beside you,

"Do you feel tired of being around me for this long?"

Alex was focused on the computer in front of him. He was busy dragging and cutting things out of the song while you wait around, he was paying no mind to you.

"Yes."

[ 20:35 HOUR, MARCH 25, 2010... ]

"We're almost done!" You celebrate, "We just add the um... Um..."

You turn to Alex.

"What's it called again?"

"Backing vocals."

"Yes, that." You nod.

"For the outro, we should add the message you get when you get blocked, after the line 'I used to miss your calls'- Then, it cuts to 'You've reach a number that has been disconnected or no longer in service'."

CHECK OUT THE FINISHED SONG HERE OR PURCHASE MY ALBUM ON MY WEBSITE THROUGH THE LINK BELOW.

author's note; The lyrics are from Max Schneider but I just changed them up and imagine them pop-rock version. Just imagine they're Korean lyrics cause... Yeah, I don't speak Korean. I just want lyrics to fit with the title I put, ya know?

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God: Chapter 22

Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OFC

Summary: The only coping mechanisms she knows are self-destructive, and the world is slowly spiraling out of control. Matt offers himself to take the edge off. He is her personal drug, one she doesn't have to feel guilty about taking. In the wake of intimacy, moments of vulnerability are meant to ensue.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected p in v sex, oral (m and f receiving), mutual masturbation, face-sitting, switch!Matt, praise, pain kink, degradation, (one) face slap™️, angst, hurt/comfort, Matt is a bit sad in this one

Word Count: 12.2k

A/n: Matt Murdock cries before and after sex, but never during sex. During sex, he has a fucking job to do. That’s the mantra I kept telling myself while writing this... ALSO 53 FOLLOWERS WTF?!?!?! THANK YOU GUYS?! This is crazy thank you so much!

Read Chapter 22: mirrorball Here on AO3!

The faceless man bumped his shoulder into hers. She stared after him, but he had no eyes, he was empty, and the people around them were wearing masks that could have easily been found at a Mardi Gras parade. They inched in on her, forcing her into a circle. She couldn’t escape. They were after her. And suddenly, he had a face. The familiar face came straight from the paper file, and it made sense. The familiar voice, the eyes, the lips. The puzzle clicked into place. She caught sight of the finished picture covering the ground like a carpet, though upon further inspection, she found the face once again blurred out. The ground shook, the pieces fell out of place and she stood there, ankle-deep in the shards of her twisted memory.

Eliza woke up in a sweat. Her heart pounded. The wheel in her brain kept on turning at a speed too fast to have been human. The arm he had draped over her frame didn’t move. Matt’s face nuzzled into her neck. His soft snores filled her ears. He was out cold. Other nights, he would have woken up if she had just breathed funnily, but not this time. He made a subconscious noise of disapproval when he lost the comfort and warmth of her body. She tucked the covers under his chin, feeling the goosebumps beginning to form, and she slipped out as quietly as she could. 

She wouldn’t be able to fall asleep again. Her heart kept pounding. She went into the bathroom, splashing her face with cold water, and she hoped it would somehow fix the burning in her chest. It didn’t. She tried coffee, but that also didn’t work, it made the spike in her blood pressure only worse. The last choice was her least favorite - she reached into Matt’s liquor cabinet and pulled out the bottle of Scotch. She poured herself half a glass. The liquor tasted bitter on her lips, burning her tastebuds. It felt so good, too good. She wasn’t supposed to do this. Eliza had great sex with the most handsome man on earth, she wasn’t supposed to crave alcohol after that. Yet, she did, and she went with the harsh voice in her head that wanted more than Scotch but was satisfied with the drunken high anyway. 

She opened the scanned blueprint on her laptop. Legs pulled up to her chest, fuzzy socks on her feet, and the glass of Scotch in her hand - she realized, a glass was stupid, so she picked up the used coffee cup and poured the liquor into it. Coffee Scotch. That was disgusting but got the job done. 

Eliza sat there and analyzed the blueprint, googling building structures in all fifty States. She cross-referenced every little piece of information she could find. The files weren’t of much help and retracing Pfeiffer’s steps led her to a thousand dead ends. She had millions of pictures in her mind, neither connected by the same red thread they had found in the storage unit. All the while the face of her father lay next to her laptop. 

The whole apartment was covered in pictures and post-it notes, her desperate attempts to make sense of the countless possibilities, ideas, and thoughts rushing through her mind like cars on a highway in the middle of the night. The lights blinded her, causing her head to implode. 

The same outline as the old White Room, similar to the architecture of Robert Pfeiffer’s lab, but the blueprint was still unique in itself. Hydra had made progress, great progress even. There was so little yet so much embedded in that blue piece of paper. She hated that she was no further than she had been three hours ago when she started. 

The floorboard creaked. 

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Matt stood in the doorway, rubbing his tired eyes with the back of his hand. “It’s, like, four in the morning.”

“Three-forty-eight. And I’m working,” she said, unbothered. 

“Are you drunk?”

“Slightly buzzed.”

He sighed.

“I know what you’re gonna say. Save it. You can go back to sleep. I’ll wake you when I’ve found something.”

Matt lowered himself to the armrest of the couch with a sigh. “Talk to me,” he said. 

“What?”

“Tell me what you‘ve got by now. If you’re gonna do this, at least let us do it together.”

Eliza shook her head. “I can do this alone, thank you.”

“Yeah, but you won’t. You’re not gonna do this alone.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but this is not something you can help with.”

“Why?”

“Because…” she was at a loss for words. There were reasons, had to be, but she couldn’t voice them. 

He cocked an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

“You weren’t there, Matt. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere until you tell me, so you either talk or you don’t, either way, I’m gonna stay right here.” 

She placed her hands down on the blueprint, holding the edges flat against the wooden surface. Her head made a silent motion to come here. 

Matt stood behind her, one hand hovering above her back, the other finding itself guided to the paper. There was no Braille, no ragged edges, just paper. Still, she took the time to move his fingers along with her words, helping him to draw a mental picture. 

“It’s like four boxes placed offset,” she stated. She drew four squares with his index finger, attached by the corners but not on the same level as the other. “No layers, just one ground floor stretching over several buildings laid out like a maze. High walls, broad hallways, no windows with a big area of nothing around the whole construct, most likely protected by some sort of metal cage that functions as security.” At last, she drew an even bigger square around the outlay. At each point of security, she pressed the calloused tip of his finger down.

His breathing came shallow and flat, her proximity clogging his mind. “Why four?” he questioned.

“Medical facilities,” – she guided his hand to the first square – “Dormitories, playgrounds here,” – she moved on to the next – “Teaching grounds right here,” – she landed on the last building – “And personnel only. It’s where the technical stuff happens,” she said. “You start at the medical facility and eventually graduate to building number four. That is if you survive.” His finger traveled the mentioned distance. 

“How do you know?”

“I traveled the same distance once when I was a kid. I don’t remember much, but I’ve seen enough pictures after I got out to have every last room memorized.” 

“And where is it?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“No coordinates?”

She shook her head. “Only measurements.” 

“Okay,” Matt nodded, “Explain to me what you have so far.”

“Matt, I-“

He grasped her chin between two fingers. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he said. 

“Maybe I want to,” she breathed.

“Do you?” Her heart skipped a beat. “‘Cause I can tell you’re lying to me. I just want to understand why.”

Eliza’s eyes flickered between the picture of her father, Viktor Volkov, Ivan, Robert, the Hydra symbol, and the blueprint. Viktor could be found at the top, but Hydra was the center of it all. Somehow her father played into it, she had dreamt about him, but none of the crumbs made any sense whatsoever, and the clues didn’t connect either. 

“There is no why. I’m not lying to you.” 

“I think you’re wrong.”

“I’m just…”

“Scared?”

She shuddered. Her physical response was his answer, even though she shook her head. 

“You don’t have to be, not with me, you know that.”

She turned out of his grasp, only for him to reach for both of her cheeks next and pull him flush into his chest. 

Eliza choked up. “Matt, please, don’t,” she said. 

“Hey,” he breathed gently, touching his forehead against hers, “If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I just want you to be okay, and I can tell that something happened, so I want to help you. Don’t push me away, baby.”

“I can’t…”

“Whatever you need to get the edge off, I’m here. I’ll give it to you, but I’m not gonna watch you hurt yourself.” 

“I just…” she wondered how he knew. It had to have been her heartbeat. She couldn’t bear his touch, so she stepped away, stumbling back into the back of the couch. “I had a dream- I had a dream and it freaked me out.”

“Okay. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I don’t even- I don’t remember. I know what I saw but it doesn’t make sense, and all of this doesn’t make any sense either. I thought it would help, but it only makes everything so much worse. I’m so confused, Matt,” Eliza caved into herself. She landed on the floor, knees pulled up to her chest, and the world spun out of control. “My head is spinning and I feel like the whole world is collapsing around me and I just can’t… I can’t stop it. The spiral just keeps going and going and going and-” 

He knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his. 

“No, I’m not… I need to… I can’t do this, Matt. You can’t just touch me like that and think it’s gonna fix anything. It fixes nothing, it just makes everything worse because you confuse me, too.”

“I confuse you?” he asked. 

“Not you! This. You and me. It is so confusing. I thought it’d help me get my mind off of things, but now I can’t stop thinking about us while everything else is turning to shit and I’m starting to wonder, what if we collapse? I can’t control this. I can’t. And I know that if I lose the only thing keeping me sane right now, I’ll die.” 

She didn’t fight when he hugged her. She clung to the back of his shirt like a scared child and he cradled her head like the protector he was. 

Her breath shuddered. “You should go back to bed,” she cried. 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“If you won’t go to bed, I won’t go to bed, that’s the deal. You need me, so I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you need sleep.”

“You need sleep too, and I don’t see you jumping on the mattress anytime soon.” Matt moved her head so he could hold her only a few inches away. She wouldn’t dare to look at him. “I’m here,” he said. “Not going anywhere, you hear me?”

She nodded slowly. 

“Tell you what, I will make us some tea and then we’ll stare at the wall until you know what it is that you want. Okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered. 

“C’mon.” 

He sat her up on the counter, realizing she wasn’t willing to speak yet, but at least she stopped crying. She watched him move carefully, feel the labels on the box where he kept the tea, touching along the marble to find the kettle. He moved so effortlessly yet carefully. His sightless eyes moved all over the place. When he realized she was watching him, he smiled softly. 

“What?” he asked. “You okay?” 

She shrugged, hands rubbing against each other. When did the weather change so drastically? And didn’t he own a heater? It surely felt like he didn’t. 

“You’re just too good to me, is all.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No.” He slipped between her thighs, taking her hands. “Oh, you’re freezing. Here.” He slipped out of his sweater, revealing the white shirt underneath. “Raise your arms.”

She snuggled into the soft fabric, enjoying the way it felt against her skin. The sweater smelled like him. Her hands disappeared in the sleeves. 

“Thanks,” she muttered. 

“Now, do you want honey or sugar?”

“Honey. One tablespoon, and some milk, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, of course. You don’t have to ask.” He stirred the tea with the ingredients she mentioned, handing the beverage over to her. The mug was warm, helping her freezing hands regain feeling. 

She eyed him. “Aren’t you cold?” 

“No.”

“I don’t know why I asked. You’re a human radiator.”

Matt laughed. “You want me to warm you up?”

“No, your sweater’s fine,” Eliza said. “Thank you.”

“Alright.”

She played with the hem of his sweater absentmindedly as she sipped her tea. He leaned against the counter next to her, his hand scratching her back. He meant it when he said they would stare at the wall until she was ready. The silence was comfortable. 

Her head dropped to his shoulder. Almost on command, he pressed his lips to the crown of her head, rubbing his nose into her hair. 

“Can we move to the couch?” she asked then. “My ass still kind of hurts.”

He choked on his tea. “Yeah, we can do that,” he said. 

The leather felt much better on the bruised skin than the sturdy surface of the kitchen counter. Matt patted his lap. “C’mere.”

She sighed and laid down, head in his lap and arms crossed to keep the warm inside of the sweater pressed to her cold skin. He tangled a hand in her hair, stroking her like a little cat. She resembled one, purring contently as he moved his fingers along her scalp. 

Eliza watched him. It was creepy, she had to admit, but the man was mesmerizing. When the world went quiet and he was lying there, relaxed with a steady heartbeat and breathing pattern. She ran a hand through his messy brown hair, over his face, and back down over his neck. 

“I can feel you staring, you know,” he said. 

She traced a finger over his eyebrow. “Really, what’s it like?” she said. 

“Very distracting.”

She smiled at him. Her finger kept drawing shapes all over his face. “You have freckles,” she pointed out. “I counted them. You have at least twenty on your nose.”

“Do I?”

“Yeah. And there is a slight crook in your nose, it’s perfect. Your eyes, they’re a mix of brown and green. In the sun, it’s like honey, a lighter shade of brown. When you’re angry, they remind me of hazelnuts. Other times walnuts. But when the light is right, I can see the green specks in your irises.”

He chuckled softly. “How long have you been watching me, exactly?” 

“Some time,” she admitted. “There is just a lot about you that amazes me.”

“Yeah, what else? Describe it to me.”

“Well, your lips for example. They’re soft, both equally as plump and they curl into that little smirk that I like so much. You should use chapstick more often though ‘cause sometimes they look cracked.” She touched his lips. “And you have these little wrinkles at the corner of your eyes-” she moved on, “from smiling, even though you don’t smile a lot, which makes me think you used to smile and laugh way more often.” His eyes fluttered shut. “There are also two perfectly good dimples that show best when you fully laugh at something, it’s like the sun comes out whenever you do.”

Eliza noticed the lines on his forehead, deeper than usual. “Have I mentioned your hair?” she moved her hand to the said part of him. “It’s brown with some tints of red in there, but it’s mostly dark, like the rest of your body hair.” Once again, she imagined him with chest hair and her mind went blank. “You know, on your arm, there is this one vein, which travels from your shoulder, down your bicep, and over your forearm,” she said, tracing that particular blood vessel with her finger. “They even bulge on the back of your hands. It’s honestly quite distracting, especially when you clench your fist around your cane,” and she took his hand. She knew the next words were going to make him feel vulnerable.  “Oh, I almost forget your scars. I think they’re the most beautiful part of you. Your scars tell the story of so many saved lives and… it shows that you’re human, like everyone else. When I run my finger over them-” so she did; though covered by the fabric of his shirt, she knew exactly where they were. “I can see what you did to get them and I have the utmost respect for you, Matthew, for all the things you did just to protect Hell’s Kitchen.”

By the time she finished, he was crying. Her face fell. “Hey,” she propped herself up on her elbow on his thigh. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

He shook his head, “No.”

“Then what is it?”

She tasted his tears when he kissed her. It was a loving kiss. He poured all of his emotions into her mouth, moving them slowly against hers. His hands traveled over her sides, holding her face. She wrapped her hands around his neck. 

Matt reached under the hem of her shirt. She sat up in an instant, throwing her leg over his lap. He continued slowly making out with her as his gentle touch moved over every inch of skin he could find. 

Something about her appreciating and seeing everything, all of him, made him feel too much at once.

“I can feel that you’re conflicted,” she breathed into his mouth. “But I don’t know what’s wrong.”

He chased her lips. “Nothing’s wrong.” He kissed her. 

Her hand landed on his chest. The warmth filled his veins. He opened his heart and soul to her and she reached for it, analyzing the whirlwind displayed in his obvious body language. She sighed at the amount of adoration for her that filled him, sucked in by her powers, and transferred to her brain, releasing several kinds of endorphins. 

The pair was lulled into a faint, red silhouette. Bright light surrounded them. It wasn’t the billboard, unlike many other times. That night, it displayed mostly purple rays of artificial light. What consumed them was the raw amalgamation of emotions seeping out of her in a charge of power. As he kissed her, his emotions mixed with hers, creating a blanket over their heads. A protective shield only meant for them. He couldn’t see it, but the warmth caressed his veins. The comfort made his skin tingle as her magic ran over the small hairs on the back of his arms. He felt the sudden urge to be even closer to her, have her swallow him, and carry him around with her everywhere she went. 

The apartment around them disappeared. Eliza had no control over what happened. The curtain closed over the furniture and instead, the universe looked back at them. Stars, planets, and the night sky. It was almost like a Diashow made out of the personification of emotions and unspoken feelings. So many different colors exploded, painting the world in the entire color wheel. They erupted around them as if the light just broke through church windows. 

She realized his veins were glowing underneath her hand where they lay against his cheek. His eyes had the same color, hooded and ready for more. He was mesmerized, the world appearing ephemeral. She stared through the window of his soul and his soul stared back into hers. Her reflection danced off the red in his usually so brown eyes. She had connected them in some way, a way she couldn’t quite understand, and now the world was crumbling around them as reality changed to fit what they needed. He was her world and she was his. They craved serenity, the world disappeared only for a bit, sometimes in which they didn’t have to think about anything but themselves, so she simply made the world disappear. 

He groaned. She wasn’t sure if it was pain or pleasure but considering he bore half of the energy emerging from her veins and his senses were heightened, making the experience stronger beyond compare, she went with the former option.

She gasped. “I’m so sorry.” She released his face, instantly removing herself from his lap, and plopped down on the couch beside him. The world snapped back to normal. The universe disappeared. “I don’t know what happened, I lost control, and I… God, this shouldn’t have happened.”

Matt blinked to get rid of the fog in his brain. “What’re you talking about?” he asked. His hand searched for her. 

“No, I hurt you.”

“No,” he shook his head, “far from it.” He pulled her back into his lap. 

“But you groaned, I…”

He chuckled softly, nodding down to his lap. “I want more.”

Her mouth formed the shape of an ‘o’ as she stared at the obvious bulge in his sweatpants. Sweat coated his forehead. She hadn’t realized how strong the connection was. They were dependent on each other’s touch. She took off the sweater she wore, suddenly too hot in his presence. The light of the billboard reflected off the sweat on her forehead and the swollen skin of her bottom lip.

“I need to get the edge off,” she said. 

Matt hummed, slipping his hand into her pants (his boxers), but she stopped him. She fell on her knees between his spread thighs. He shifted, hair a mess and cheeks flushed, frowning a little at the change of scenery.

“What are you-“

“Trust me, as much as this looks like I’m doing it for you, I most certainly am not.”

Words weren’t needed as she kissed along the outline of his sweatpants before pulling them down, followed by a silent demand to take his shirt off. He complied. He let her have her way. This wasn’t about him, she was right, even though it excited him that this was something she would choose to take care of herself. 

He threw his head back into the cushions, bucking his hips against her face. The gentle kissing along the clothed outline of his cock sent shockwaves through his body. Her nails dug into his thighs. He whined. She continued agonizingly slow until she finally undressed him completely and sucked his hard cock into her mouth. She started with the head, and she chose to stay that way, suckling on his weeping tip.

He searched for support on the armrest. She didn’t warn him, she just moaned before sinking completely. He choked on nothing. 

“Fucking- God!” His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

She sighed at the soft tune of his voice in her ear. Still, she didn’t pick up the pace. 

“This is torture. Please, do something. Fuck! I can’t… I can’t take this.”

She pulled off. “Too fucking bad, Matthew. I need to be in control right now so be a good boy and do as you’re told.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking of me.”

“Oh, I think I do.” She blew cold air over his cock. 

He hissed. “Ah!” One of his hands reached for her hair, but she slapped it away. 

“No touching.”

“But-”

“No.”

Matt’s lips parted in a pathetic whimper, throwing his head back into the back of the couch as her mouth opened and she took his entire cock back into the tight confines of her throat. Much to her surprise, he kept his hands to himself, and the sounds that came out of him sounded like an angel’s choir to her ears. She figured he had a submissive bone in his body, catholic guilt and all, but this was something she hadn’t seen coming. Him surrendering himself completely, following her demands without a second thought, and she surprised herself at just how much it turned her on. 

He rested heavily on her tongue. Her mouth was full, incredibly so, and he tasted like the most sinful heaven. The noises he made distracted her from the whirlwind of thoughts in her head. She was high off of him. So beautiful, she thought, looking up at him through hooded eyelashes to find his head thrown back, lips slightly parted and his bicep straining with the hold he had on the leather couch. The vein she had mentioned before stood at full attention, a delicious swollen part of him, but nothing like what she had in her mouth. She felt him twitch in the back of her throat and she stilled, pulling off. She returned to pressing small kisses to the head of his cock, dragging her tongue through the slit and down his shaft, paying close attention to the bulging veins. 

He whimpered. His nails dug into the couch. His thigh shot up. He was trying so hard to control himself, but it was hard, harder than him. Nails raked over his sensitive skin, up his chest, and over his nipples. She gave them a harsh tug, causing him to cry out at the overstimulation, the mix of pain and pleasure that went straight to his cock. 

Every time he walked the edge, she pulled away. She kissed his thighs, waiting for his breath to calm, then sank back down on him. He felt the stars erupt behind his sightless eyes, the fog in his brain threatening to render him completely useless. 

Matt tried his hardest to be good, and he did, but as soon as her hand started jerking him off as her mouth dropped lower to funnel with his balls, he was done for. He lost hold of the leather and grabbed a fistful of her hair, which caused a surprised yelp out of her mouth, and he pushed her all the way down on his cock. 

He shouldn’t have done that. Eliza was strong, she just hardly showed it. She bucked against his hand, moving away completely. She stood several feet away from him now, his chest heaving with the loss of her warmth, cheeks flushed and he knew he had messed up.

“What did I tell you?” she asked, the scent of him filled his sensitive nose, and he could taste her saliva mixed with his pre-cum on his tongue. He licked his lips. The air was thick with the scent of both of them. “Matthew, what did I tell you?” her voice dropped an octave. 

“To- to keep my hands to myself. I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it. Your mouth… God, you feel so good. Please, come back. Come back here, right now!”

“You’re not in the position to make demands.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t sweetheart me.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be good, I promise.” Just like that, he fell to his aching knees. “I will do anything. Just please, let me touch you.”

Her breath shuddered. Damn. Seeing him so desperate was something else. She reveled in the power, the feeling of absolute control over the usually so dominant man before her. It was the one thing she could control, his pleasure and her own. He gave her the reins, willingly submitting himself to her. He wouldn’t have done this for just anyone. Just like her, he liked to be in control, and he did so often. The things he couldn’t control, he made up by controlling everything else. He knew what the feeling was like and it was hot, to experience her like this. Nothing could match up to having her writhe underneath him, but she had rendered him mindless already, and he hadn’t even come yet. 

Eliza contemplated, then took his hands to guide them to her torso. “Only above the waist,” she told him. 

He sighed. Tears pooled in his eyes, tears of relief. “Thank you!” His desperate fingers traced every sliver of skin he could find. 

“Take my shirt off,” - he scrambled to get to his feet, but she pushed him back down - “No, stay. Gotta make sure you don’t get the idea to touch me anywhere else by overpowering me.”

“I would never.”

“Yes, you would.”

Yes, he would.

Once her shirt was off, he grabbed her hips, moving on to her tits, cupping and squeezing him until she was panting. His lips traced around her belly button, nibbling at the skin. Every time his hands threatened to slip slower, she pulled at his hair and he stilled his movement. 

The wetness pooled inside the boxers she had borrowed from him. He paid such close attention, she was beyond turned on. For a second, she considered caving in and asking him to take her to bed, fuck the living shit out of her until she couldn’t think anymore, and then give her another four orgasms just for the thrill of it because that man knew how to work in bed. She didn’t though. She pulled his face away from her skin, staring into his hooded eyes, those beautiful brown eyes that made her heart swell, and she leaned down to kiss him. 

“Would you mind taking my pants off, Matty?” she asked sweetly, though her tone made him whine. 

He nodded eagerly. Without a sound, he pulled off his boxers. Her scent hit his nose full on, her crotch right in front of him. He couldn’t help it, he moaned in the back of his throat, touching his lips as her taste overwhelmed his senses. He could taste her wetness on his tongue. 

She ran a hand through his hair. “You look so beautiful like this, you know that?”

“Mh-hm.”

“You want to taste me so desperately right now, don’t you?”

He nodded again. 

“Ask for it.”

“I…” he whimpered, “May I taste you, sweetheart? Please!”

“Mhhh,” she thought about it, “No.”

“What?” 

Eliza shoved him to the ground, sitting up against the couch. He gasped. The leather squished with her wetness as she lowered herself down, thighs on either side of his head, eyes pointing up. He couldn’t see it, but he could hear, smell and taste it and not being able to touch her was absolute torture. 

“You stay down.”

“Baby, please, no.”

Her finger started to play with her clit. He whined. 

“Touch yourself,” she said. “Do what I’m doing, let me watch you touch that pretty cock of yours. But you have to wait for me to give you permission to cum, can you do that?”

He could have burst right then and there, so when he nodded and agreed, he knew the probability of him failing her simple demand was high. 

“Good boy.”

He threw his head back in a wanton moan. “Sweetheart…” he removed his underwear completely, spitting into his hand and starting a slow, agonizing pace along his cock. 

“What is it, Matty?” she cooed. 

“I want to taste you. I need to.” 

“You can’t come like this, is that it?”

“No, I need you.”

“I’m here. You can smell me, can’t you? You can hear me touch my clit, and taste just how wet I am without even touching me. You know what you’re doing to me, what watching you do that does to me, so what else could you possibly need from me when I’m already so merciful?”

“I need to taste you, really taste you. Please, sweetheart. I’ve been so good.” His hand sped up, fisting his cock hard, rubbing his thumb over the weeping tip. He paused his begging to cry out. “I want to make you feel good. Want to be the one touching you. Need you to drown me in you. Just please, use me, sweetheart. Use me, make me suffer, anything but what you’re doing right now.”

“Wouldn’t that be a reward? Do you deserve to be rewarded?”

“Yes!”

She moaned at the sight of his abs flexing with the impending orgasm. He was jerking himself off so fast, she knew he wasn’t going to last long. The sound of her voice drove him into ecstasy. 

“You have been a good boy, haven’t you?” A hand started stroking his cheek. “So good you didn’t even realize how close you are just from begging me.”

“Oh, God.”

“What was that? Was that a plea? Or was it just blasphemy?” 

“Please, sweetheart. Can I…? Just a taste. Please.” 

“Mh-hm. I suppose you can.”

She pushed his lip down, sliding her finger into his mouth. Her taste exploded on his tongue. His back arched as his cum shot all over his bare stomach, white streams of thick liquid painting his skin. She swallowed his moan with her mouth, kissing him, stroking his hair. Replacing his hand with hers, she kept pumping his oversensitive cock. The orgasm dragged on for what felt like an eternity. The strokes began to grow painful. Tears coated his sweaty cheeks. 

He hissed. “Too much.”

“I know.” She didn’t stop. “But isn’t that what you do to me over and over and over again, until I’m crying for you to have mercy on me?”

He was already crying, but as long as he didn’t use the safe word (which was meant for the both of them) she wouldn’t stop. Her hand kept moving in painfully slow strokes, thumb rubbing the cum over his tip – he didn’t even have time to breathe, his cock remaining hard. He could already feel the second orgasm building up, draining him of energy. 

Eliza kissed his neck softly. “You can give me another one,” she didn’t ask, she stated. “And maybe then you can touch me.”

He took a deep breath. His ears were ringing, nose full of her and him, and he could feel even the last fiber of the ground under his clenched fists. Even the temperature of the couch seeped detailed into his burning skin. 

“Fuck.” She kissed him, at least some mercy in the wake of overstimulation. Though the gentle touches made it even worse. 

“I’m gonna use you as I see fit, Matthew,” she purred. Her hand suddenly disappeared. Slipping from the couch, she sank to her knees, situated between his spread thighs. 

He whined again, “Please.” Now that his body was ready, he couldn’t hold off, it was physically impossible.

She licked the cum off his stomach first. A lewd moan left her plump lips. “Wanna taste?” 

“Yes,” he said. She kissed him, mixing their arousal with her tongue. He moaned, in need of more. 

She resumed the movements of her hand only momentarily before she licked a long stripe up the outline of his cock. He whimpered, wondering when this torture was going to end. The attention to the most sensitive part of him, fondling his balls. He wanted to die. He was sure he died. Her thumb traced over the protruding veins, tongue dragging through the slit. She felt him twitch. He was holding on desperately, trying not to come too soon. Remarkable, she thought. Though he had suffered enough.

She sucked him into her hot mouth. He hit the back of her throat. His nails clawed into the leather, breaking it. Not a metaphor, he broke the material. One of her hands traveled up his chest, landing around his throat. He swallowed. No one had ever dared to do that before, even though he had hinted at the Mutual liking for choking before. No woman or man had ever tried to give it back to him, mostly because he often fell back into dominant patterns, eager to please not to be pleased. 

“Fuck, sweetie!” he choked out. “That’s so good, fuck! Doing so well.”

Screw him and his silver tongue. She squeezed her hand around his throat, blocking his vocal cords. The demand she uttered next was simple. “Cum,” she as much as growled, allowing him to release all over her bare chest. She coaxed him through it.

“You okay?” She removed her hands slowly. 

“I'm fine, yeah.”

She dragged a finger through his cum and stuffed it into her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed around the digit. He grunted. She took his hand to do the same to his fingers, cum smeared all over them mixed with his saliva. She licked his palm slowly, cleaning every last inch with the tip of her tongue. “Hmm, you taste so good.”

Matt opened his mouth eagerly. “Fuck!”

“Yes, fuck indeed. And you know what? You’re free to do whatever you want with me now, as long as you remember you’re not the one in control.” He looked so good, her eyes rolled into the back of her head. 

He didn’t have to be told twice. She landed on the couch with a loud thud. He reached for her thighs, pulling her further to the edge where his head was resting. He leaned further back. “Sit on my face,” he said. 

“What?”

“I want you to sit on my face. I’m gonna make you feel so good, I promise.”

Her cheeks flushed a deep red. “I’m not… what if I’m too heavy?”

“Too heavy?” he laughed out. “You could never be too heavy.”

“I could suffocate you.”

“That would be an incredible way to go, but you won’t. If you haven’t by now, it probably won’t happen.”

“Matt, I don’t know if I can do it.”

“I can always grind you down on me and then it’s my turn to ruin you.”

She smacked his cheek. “No.”

“Ow!” He loved it. “Sweetie, please. Ride my face. Use me.”

She flipped around, knees on either side of his face. The position was vulnerable, knowing he could smell everything, feel everything and hear everything. She braced herself on the backrest. His hands splayed out on her hips, stroking over her waist. 

“I said sit,” he grumbled, “not hover. Do you need a dictionary?”

“Matthew,” she warned. 

“Frankly, I don’t care. You can punish me later. Sit. Down.”

She gasped loudly when he pulled her down on his face, tongue parting her folds while his nose nudged her clit. He dove right in, not giving her a moment to prepare. He fucked his tongue into her, moving his face back and forth, side to side, causing delicious friction to travel from her thighs to her cunt. 

“Jesus fuck!” One hand stayed on the back of her couch, and the other grabbed his hair, pulling him closer. Her cheeks were red, stomach heavy. She sat on his face, naked. She had never done this before. 

He moaned. “You’re thinking too hard. Take what you need,” he said. His breath was hot against her clit. “I want all of you. Please, give it to me.”

She nodded. Slowly, she began to rock her hips against his face. His eyes rolled back, nails digging into her hips. He guided her movements only slightly, feeding her confidence. His lips suctioned around her clitoris, applying sweet, torturous pressure on the sensitive nerve bundle. She should have made him suffer for mouthing off on her before, but she couldn’t think. He ate her out like a starved man. She was his last meal on death row and he wanted to make it worth her while. He didn’t stall, he just kept licking and sucking and licking and sucking while her hips followed the thrusts of his tongue, the friction of his beard and his nose against her clit, and just like that the orgasm built up at high speed. 

Her forehead pressed against the leather, lewd sounds escaping her lips. A hand traveled to her breasts, playing with her nipple, the other disappeared from her hot hip and slid down his body. He grabbed his cock, already hard again, and started stroking himself in time with the back and forth of her hips. His lips and tongue moved faster, feeling her muscles tense, her voice cracking and the wetness stream faster out of her and onto his tongue. He was in heaven, eyes rolled back so far, he could have sworn he reached his brain. 

She cried out when his hand found her throat, not entirely wrapped around her pulse point, but enough to squeeze tightly, hoisting her up so her back was straight and he could feel and listen to her accelerated heartbeat as he worked her closer to the edge. 

“Matt, I’m close,” she whined. “Don’t stop, fuck!”

He wasn’t planning on it. 

She ground harder on his face, the knot growing tighter and tighter and tighter until it suddenly snapped, causing her body to release an obscene amount of wetness and sounds as she came all over his face. He moaned against her, trapped against her cunt with her hand in his hair, thighs clenching around his head. The air was knocked out of his lungs, yet he kept sucking on her clit like a desperate bastard. 

She cried into the leather, chest heaving with breaths that wouldn’t quite come out. He flinched at the hand slapping his forehead, forcing him to let go. His eyes fluttered open.

“Stop touching yourself.” 

He only hesitantly let go of his cock. 

“Get up here.”

She moved off his face, allowing him to stumble on the couch, falling into the cushions. She was on his lap just as fast, engulfing him in a searing kiss. “I want you to fill me up, not that pretty little hand of yours,” she told him. 

Matt moaned at her sinful words. She lined his cock up with her entrance and sank completely, gasping. Her walls stretched. Somehow he fit better than in the beginning. She was starting to get used to him, although she stopped as soon as he was deep inside of her, catching her lost breath. His arm wrapped around her waist to hold her closer. 

“If, at any point, you feel the need to fuck me, do it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” That was something he could do. 

She smashed her lips against his, starting to rock her hips in a steady rhythm. She pulled off ever so slightly before bottoming out. He met her hips with soft thrusts, allowing her to circle her hips while also reaching the deepest, darkest parts of her tight walls. Neither of them was going to last long. The kisses were slow, sloppy, and messy at that, his thrusts uneven and her hips desperate in their motion. 

In one swift motion, he flipped her over. The sweat made her skin stick to the leather, but she couldn’t have cared less about the new angle he found. The couch was small and for a second she was scared he might send them flying to the floor. He set a slow pace, but his thrusts were deep. His cock managed to brush spots he hadn’t pushed into before and she slowly lost her mind. She held onto the armrest behind her head, hoping to find some leverage, while the other tangled in his hair where his head dropped into the crook of her neck. 

He panted into her skin, kissing and biting over her pulse point. He sucked hard, feeling the blood pool underneath the assaulted spot, turning purple. He did the same to her jaw, though he tried not to leave any marks on her face, which was hard considering she pressed her lips so hard to his, their lips might as well have split open. She bit his bottom lip, earning a groan. She tucked at his hair. The volume multiplied. 

Matt most definitely had a pain kink. 

He held himself up with one arm propped up on the armrest, the other wrapping around her throat. Her tongue traced that stupid vein on his bicep, gently biting down on it, just enough to make him know that he belonged to her. It was a loving way of marking him. His arm looked way too good, denting the leather, his bicep growing at least a size with all the flexing. She clenched around him. The sight of him was entirely too much. Her back arched off the couch and without any more stimulation, just looking at him basked in the purple light of the Billboard, hair stuck to his forehead with sweat, and the hooded eyes so dark, she could see into his soul, was enough to make her come apart. Her muscles contracted around his overly sensitive cock and he moaned deeply into her collarbone.

“Fuck!”

She whined. 

Only a few more thrusts and he followed behind her, too worked up to care that he made quite the mess on the black of the couch as his cum filled her up and overflowed.

He changed his stance, shifting his weight to his forearm. He copied the movement of her hand in his hair, combing his fingers through the tangled locks standing wildly off her head. 

She grabbed his hips when he tried to pull out. “Stay,” she breathed.

He nodded. “Okay.” 

“Just want to feel you a little longer.”

“You can have me,” Matt whispered back, matching her tone. “All of me, all the time.” 

Eliza followed the dip of his skin around his spine with her middle finger, and she swallowed. “You know, there is such sad beauty in your vulnerability. Looks don’t matter, although you are by far the prettiest creature out there, your heart is set right, and that makes you so incredibly beautiful, I think a lot of people envy that.”

“Fuck,” he groaned against her neck. “Stop it! I’m gonna get hard again if you keep talking like that.” 

She broke into giggles. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I love hearing it. I just have to get used to... all of that. The kind words, the loving touches, the inhuman amount of attention you are willing to give me; everything you give me is just so overwhelming, I find it hard to breathe.” 

“I’m sorry.” Eliza kissed his temple, head now fully nuzzled into her neck. His weight rested on her like a blanket, but she wasn’t all too overstimulated this time, so she let him. It was his way of winding down, listening to her heart, and putting his mind at ease. “I’m sorry no one’s ever said that to you before,” she said. “‘Cause you deserve to be appreciated. You give so much, yet get nothing in return. I know your religion makes you want to put everyone before you and that’s remarkable, but who’s gonna take care of you?”

His shoulders tensed. He struggled to get a proper amount of oxygen into his lungs. With his head buried in her skin, he could hide what her words were doing to him, though as soon as the tears shot into his eyes, she knew. 

“You deserve to be taken care of, Matt. It’s not your job to take care of everyone. You’ll still have meaning, a purpose, and a place in this life if you look after yourself for a change. Listen,” she grabbed his cheeks and brought him face to face with her, the tears on full display as he struggled to keep himself from sobbing, “I’m not your responsibility. You don’t have to take care of me all the time. New York can survive a few days without you. The world won’t end just because you decide not to be God’s strongest soldier for a day or two, or perhaps even forever. God will forgive you for choosing yourself. He’d encourage it. There is nothing wrong with putting yourself first. And please, if you need to cry, do it. I’m the last person to judge you for being vulnerable. You told me it’s okay to feel. Take your advice. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Maybe not all the time. More often than not, really, but this is hard on you too, and I’m so sorry for not realizing it sooner. You’re not okay. You can’t be. You don’t have to be. Please, let yourself feel whatever it is that you need to feel right now. I’m here for you.”

His head fell out of her hands, just below her chin, and he finally let the dam break. His sobs reminded her of the sky breaking apart. It was awful and painful to hear. Her heart shattered. She wasn’t sure how to hold him without breaking him further. She wasn’t sure what he needed. She waited patiently for him to wrap his hands around her body, melting into her, before she returned the gesture. When she told him to let it out, she had expected a lot, just not this amount of excruciating pain tearing his soul apart. 

Eliza ran her hand through his hair. All she could do was repeat the same motion over and over again, followed by the softest shushes and sweet nothings into his ear. 

“It’s okay,” she said. “You’re okay.” Her voice cracked, switching to a higher octave, and the tears stung in her eyes like hot chili peppers.

He wheezed, gasping for air. She turned his head a little so his nose rested in an oxygen-rich environment and not against her sweaty skin that turned even saltier in taste and smell with the ocean of his tears trickling down her chest. It wasn’t long before her own mixed with his, no longer able to stay strong. Seeing Matt cry would always break her just a little more. 

“Matt, breathe, please,” she found herself saying. 

He shuddered. “I can’t…”

“I know. Just try, please. For me.”

His chest heaved. Her hand on his back kept him grounded, pulling him away from the brink of insanity and into the safety of her arms. His sobs died into heavy hiccups before subsiding into hitches of breath. The tears flowed for just a little longer, pent up from all the stress and finally being able to flow freely without having to worry what others might think. It was just them. She held him through the aftershocks, until the worst was over, and even then she refused to loosen her grip, afraid he might find himself slipping away again. 

After a while, she heard him chuckle against her neck. 

“This is so embarrassing,” he said, voice muffled against her collarbone. 

She sighed. “It’s not.”

“Crying after sex… that’s pathetic.”

“I cried after sex.”

“That’s not the same.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” he huffed. 

“See? You can’t even find a good excuse for that flawed logic,” she said, hand stroking his hair back. He tilted his chin up slightly, sightless eyes moving around aimlessly, focused on a dead spot on the ceiling behind her. Eliza moved her hand from his hair to his face. She needed a better angle to kiss him, and even though his neck craned enough to pull painfully at his muscles; he let it happen. He melted into the kiss. “Your feelings are valid, too, Matthew. I’m gonna remind you of that as long as I have to for you to believe me.”

“I believe you,” he argued. 

She chuckled softly. “You believe me most of the time, just not with this,” she corrected his previous statement. “These are two entirely different things.”

Matt scoffed. “Why do I always end up in this position?” 

“In what position, exactly? Enlighten me.”

“A position in which you have to prove you are more emotionally mature than me. I know it’s true, but it still hurts my ego.”

“Well, I do have supernatural powers that make it possible for me to manipulate emotions, so I have a better understanding of the soul.”

“Yeah, but why do you have to be so smug about it?”

“I don’t know, maybe ‘cause I’m smarter than you.”

He laughed, tongue poking his cheek. For someone calling her smug, he sure did a good job at acting as such himself. “Smart, yes,” he said, and the second he opened his mouth she knew what came to his mind. He lifted himself to tower over her again. “Smarter? That’s to be determined.”

“Oh, really?” she cocked an eyebrow. 

“Mh-hm.” His cock swelled inside of her. 

She couldn’t help but giggle at his desperate attempts. “What are you-ah!” he thrust forward quickly, making her body jolt with the sudden surge of pleasure. “Matt, what is it with you and using sex as a - shit! - coping mechanism?”

“Says you,” he moaned into her ear. “I think we’re both desperate, that’s what makes this so good.”

He set a slow, steady pace. She hooked one leg around his waist, pulling him deeper into her tight cunt. 

“It is good, yes.”

“Mh-hm. Why would we ever stop?”

“Don’t know and don’t want to.”

He cradled her face as he kissed her, long and hard, his hips never faltering in their maddening rhythm. She panted against his lips, though he refused to let up. He held her close to him, impossibly close, and his mouth swallowed all the little sounds of pleasure erupting from her throat. He moved on to her cheek, her neck, then back to her lips. 

Matt’s voice resembled a skilled snake charmer playing his flute to manipulate the snake inside the basket to follow his every tune. He was hypnotic, to say the least. He knew how to use his words like the keys on a piano, stringing together one of the most beautiful melodies in the history of melodies. He had two sides during sex that often blurred together. He read the clues like Braille, easily figuring out which side to use in what situation. He would either completely degrade his partner until they were ashamed and crying, or he would use tons of praise to coax her into as many orgasms as he wanted. That was his goal, after all, to please his partner. The way he did it depended entirely on the mood of the situation. 

The jury was still out on what compelled him to use his silver tongue in the way he did this time. “Have I ever told you how good you feel?” he said. His cock brushed her sweet spot, directing every stroke there to savor every last moan she let out. “And your sounds, baby. God, I love those little sounds you make every time I do this.” 

She threw her head back. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”

“Matthew,” she whined.

“What?”

“Fuck me.”

He chuckled breathlessly. “You are so needy.”

Though he didn’t hesitate to pull out, flip her around so she was on her stomach and thrust his cock right back between her folds and into her tight hole. Her lips parted, but the sounds got stuck in her throat. She spread her legs, tried to at least; he firmly forced them back together. 

“Keep them closed.”

The position made her cunt even tighter around him. Her velvety walls felt like a tailored glove around his cock. The intrusion burned. He didn’t have much space to move, so she could feel every vein and every last twitch as he thrust into her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he had bottomed out. He stayed there, buried to the hilt inside of her, his lips pressing gentle kisses to her shoulder blades and spine. A hand reached around her, pushing down on her lower stomach where his cock was pretty much visible, and pushed her hips back against his. Her back arched slightly. He kept her in place with his large hand, grinding her against him. 

She cursed. “God. Faster.”

“Patience, sweetheart.”

He circled his hips a couple more times, just until she had adjusted to the new position and the pain in her muscles subsided. Then, he finally picked up the pace. He picked up the speed of his thrusts, multiplying them. He guided the head of his cock against the same spot repeatedly, managing to stroke her g-spot and hit her cervix over and over again. She moaned, writhed, and cried, but it came all from a place of pleasure. 

Matt was pressed tightly against her back, only one hand holding him upright as he added more pressure to his thrusts. He reached for her wrists, crossing them behind her back. She groaned, her forehead being the only thing supporting her against the leather of the couch. 

“Is that what you wanted?” he asked. “For me to fuck you like this? To give back what you gave me?”

She nodded. 

“Words, sweetheart. Use them.”

“Yes! I wanted you to fuck me so badly.”

“Is that so?”

“That’s all I’ve been thinking about. I need you so fucking bad, Matthew.”

“Like this?”

“Harder.”

“Harder? Wow.” He sounded almost condescending with his laugh, shifting onto his knees, and he forced her on her knees before him. Her back was still lunged forward, held up in the air by his strong arms only. Her thighs burned. Full body workout. This was familiar, she thought. Her mind flashed back to the night before. 

Even though they were both kneeling, he forced her to keep her legs together. Her stomach bulged. He could feel himself moving under her skin. The overwhelming sensation of everything being so hot and tight almost made him lose it. “You are such,” he pounded into her, slapping her ass with every thrust, “a,” another one, “greedy,” another one, “Slut!”

She cried out. 

“Does that turn you on? Being my little, greedy cumslut?”

“Fuck!”

“Huh, what was that?”

“Yes!”

“Yes, what?”

She wasn’t sure what he wanted to hear. “Fuck, yes, Matthew! I’m your slut. Only yours.”

“Mh-hm. Good girl.” He reached between her legs to play with her swollen clit. “I own you. All of this is mine. Your heart, your body, and this fucking pussy is mine too, understood? So you’re gonna come for me now, all over my cock, and I will give you what you want the most.”

She couldn’t speak. Her lungs caved in, eyes rolling into the back of her head. The hot pleasure shot straight to her cunt. She lost all self-control, letting go of the line that attached her to sanity. She allowed the bomb to explode and tear her whole body to shreds with one of the most intense orgasms he had ever managed to pull out of her. 

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Such a good fucking girl.” With another hard slap on her ass, he collapsed on top of her. She milked him dry, the spurting cum mixing with his previous release and causing even more of a mess. 

Her head was so far in the clouds, she only realized he was still circling her clit with his fingers when it started to hurt and she physically had to slap his hand away to get him to stop. He panted loudly into her ear, holding her tightly against him without placing his entire weight on her back. That hadn’t turned out so well before. 

He brushed her hair back. “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Definitely.”

He turned on his back with her in his arms, repositioning her so she lay on his chest. He was still breathing heavily, his heart threatening to jump through his skin. 

Her cold finger traced the scars on his torso. Sweat had collected on the back of his neck, trickling down the front of his body. She caught it, already mixed with some of the leftover cum on his stomach. They needed another shower.

“Was that okay?” her voice was small when she broke the silence again. 

Matt frowned. “Okay?”

“Yeah, me treating you like that. I didn’t check in with you. I just…”

“It was more than okay,” he breathed out. “In fact, it was probably one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced you do.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, just… don’t tell anyone this happened.”

She giggled. “Considering I don’t have anyone to talk to, you’re good.”

“I’m joking.” His hand trailed up her spine, goosebumps following his touch. “I think you were right. I have one or two submissive bones in my body.”

“One or two?” she teased. “Felt more like a thousand.”

“I don’t even have that many bones.”

“Exactly.”

“I suppose it’s the catholic in me.”

“The Catholic in you should be celibate.”

“Yeah, he can’t do that.”

“Mh-hm, I know.”

Matt’s phone suddenly rang out. Foggy, Foggy, Foggy! He sucked in a sharp breath, reaching beside him to feel for the device on the living room table. She made a silent gesture for him to lie back. 

Eliza climbed over him, grabbed the still-ringing phone, and handed it to him, lying back down on his chest to listen to his steadying heartbeat. 

He answered, “Yeah.”

She could hear Foggy’s faint voice through the speaker. A strand of hair got caught on her bruised lip, which Matt quickly brushed behind her ear, along with the rest of her unruly sex-crazed hair. She sighed happily, propping her chin up on his chest to watch him. He could feel her eyes on him, the look something else, something new. Even though he couldn’t see it, he could feel how the way she looked at him shifted every time her eyes met his. Something was different, and it wasn’t the sex. It wasn’t his comfort or the realization that they were closer to finding the truth than ever - there was something else entirely in her eyes and he felt a little uneasy, not knowing what it was. He usually did, but this time, he couldn’t pinpoint what happened. 

“Meet me at Josie’s in an hour,” Foggy said. 

“What?” He rubbed his brows. “Why would I do that?”

“Not you, the both of you.”

“Foggy-”

“Get her a hat and a hoodie. Josie isn’t gonna care. Hell, she does illegal shit all the time, harboring a fugitive should be the least of her concerns.” He swallowed something audibly sharp. “I couldn’t sleep, so I went to have a drink, but I couldn’t stop thinking about what you told me, so I want answers. Right now. It’s almost morning anyway. I figured you’d be awake. Get your stuff and then come over! Don’t make me ask again.”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Eliza sighed. “We’re on our way,” she said. 

“Do I even wanna know why she’s close enough to the phone to hear me?”

“Better not,” Matt smirked. 

“Man, I’m so glad I didn’t come over.”

“Yeah, me too.”

She slapped his chest. 

“I mean, we’re on our way. See you in a bit!”

Foggy didn’t say goodbye, he simply hung up with a scoff. Even several feet away from him, she could have heard. 

Matt’s smirk only grew wider, realizing she blushed. “I couldn’t help myself,” he said. 

“Shut up.” She got up, the leather peeling off of her like glue. “I’m going to get cleaned up.”

His laugh followed her into the bathroom. She counted the seconds after using the bathroom - in peace this time - leaning against the cold shoulder wall with her arms crossed. 

“One, two…”

The door opened. Matt pulled the curtain aside, stepping in. The warm water instantly flattened his dark hair. He walked straight through the stream, engulfing her in a bone-crushing hug against his hard chest. 

“That was disappointing,” she murmured. 

“Why?”

“I thought it’d take you shorter than that.”

“Oh, so that one time I give you privacy, I’m taking too long?”

She playfully bit his nipple. “Don’t act as if you care about my personal space.”

“You’re right, I don’t.” He kissed her. “But you also don’t care about mine, so we’re even.”

“True,” she took the shampoo bottle from the shelf, “Now get your head under the water so I can wash your hair.”

He was more than glad about the domestic offer. The exhaustion seeped into his bones. Her fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp offered a welcomed relief to the tension in his shoulders. She made it all go away, just by taking care of him. She wasn’t big on words, but her actions spoke enough to make sense to him. 

She rinsed the shampoo out as soon as she was done, moving on to soak his body in soap. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he wondered out loud. 

“Like what?” she asked, a bit taken aback by that he could tell, but this was Matt for God’s sake. It shouldn’t have surprised her that he could tell the look in someone’s eyes just by analyzing their body language and physical clues.

“Like that,” he said. “The way you are right now.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s… soft, almost.”

She stopped soaping his chest. Her eyes flicked from his face to the shower wall, but he turned her head back with a simple finger underneath her shin. “What is it, sweetheart?”

“You’re all done,” she said. “You should get out before your fingers get all wrinkly.”

“I don’t care.” He smiled softly at her. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just… I don’t know. I have no idea how I’m looking at you ‘cause every time I do, I’m just overwhelmed by all of the feelings I… feel.”

He hummed. “And you think I’m not?”

“I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

“Except for me, it’s every time I hear your voice, smell your perfume, taste your lips, feel your skin…”

“Matt, what does that mean?” she desperately clung to his arms. 

He shrugged in response. “I don’t know. I’m just as confused as you are.”

“I’m serious. I need to know.”

“I wanna try this,” he admitted quietly. The sound of the water almost tuned him out. “When this is all over, I want to try this. I know we said this is one and done, but I’m not ready to let you go. Not yet, probably not ever, but we won’t know for sure until we try, and I want to. I want to try. I have to admit, I’m a terrible boyfriend, but I’m ready to try to be better for you. You made me believe that I can be a better man.”

Run. No. 

“I…” she eyed him, eyed his hands on her shoulder, the man he was. He was so beautiful, so perfectly imperfect, she never wanted anything more than someone like him. Someone who could hold her, give her advice and make her feel special. He did. He made her feel like she wasn’t broken, not anymore at least. He made her feel like she wasn’t alone, and he made her feel attractive, which meant a lot after spending years hating every little thing about herself. Not just her body but her mind, and he seemed to appreciate the latter even more. He listened, ready to hear out everything she said. He put her first and that was something she would probably never get from someone else. 

Matt’s face dropped a little. He couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. His fingers felt her facial features, but even those didn’t say anything other than deafening silence. 

“Eliza,” he said softly. 

“I’m not used to being put first,” she blurted. “I’m not and it’s probably not gonna be easy with me. I know it’s not. When you say you’re a bad boyfriend, well, I’m worse. I don’t know how to care for someone when I’m broken, and I am. I’m so broken, I shouldn’t even have let you kiss me in the first place, but I did because I wanted to. I still want to. It’s not gonna be easy, Matt. And it’s gonna hurt you. I don’t know how to feel. I either eat everything up or I spit it all out, feeling so much at once, I destroy everything around me because I can’t deal with myself. I do it all the damn time, so I know for a fact that I’m gonna ruin you.”

“So be it! Ruin me. I don’t care.”

“You have no idea what you’re saying.”

“You say you know you’re gonna hurt me, but because you know that, I know it’s not gonna happen. And even if you do, do you think I’d care?”

“That’s the problem. I know you won’t.”

“So what are you saying? Are you dumping me?”

“No,” she sighed. She took her face in her hands, nuzzling her nose against his. “I want to try. This isn’t a one-and-done. It was never bound to be this way. If there is one thing I know I want it’s you, but I can’t promise you that it’s gonna work out the way you want it to. I might not be the person you want and when the time comes, it’s okay if you leave. I often ruin things just ‘cause I’m scared. It’s what I do. I get scared and I hurt the people around me before they can hurt me. So I mean it when I say it’s okay if you leave, I won’t hold it against you.”

“Who says I’m leaving?”

“Everyone always does.”

“Well, I’m not everyone, am I?”

She choked out a broken chuckle. “I guess not, no.”

“Besides, you’re not the only one with abandonment issues. I get scared too,” he said, his voice soft as silk. “I expect to be hurt, so I don’t put effort into relationships. I push people away to protect them and it hurts them. I’ve hurt so many people, I lost count. But you’re not gonna be one of those people, and I’m not gonna leave you either if you promise not to leave me.”

“If it gets too much and I decide to leave you, Matt, what then?”

“You won’t.” He sounded far too convinced for someone who just heard the inevitable truth. “You know why?”

“Why?” she threw back at him, exasperated. 

His lips hovered above hers. “‘Cause you know me better than anyone, and you know that nothing could ever hurt me, except for you leaving. That’s the one thing I couldn’t survive. So tell me again, do you think I’d leave you when things get just a little harder than they used to be, which seems impossible considering how hard things are right now? When you turn out to be just a little more complicated, a little more messed up than you are right now? When I need to pick you up over and over again because you’re hurt, something that isn’t even your fault, even though you would do the same for me in a heartbeat? Do you think I’d just leave you when things get hard? Just ‘cause you’re not the perfect golden child everyone wants you to be? Do you think that? Is that how you think of me?” 

A tear slipped from her eyes and onto the already wet shower floor. “No,” she whispered. 

“We met under extraordinary circumstances. We came together during the trial of our lives - of your life. We are at war right now and still, we always find our way back to each other. I don’t know about you, but this seems like a damn good reason to stay. A chance like this doesn’t come to people like us. We’re too damaged, too broken. We usually don’t get happy endings, unless we meet a person that is just like us, and we did. I believe that. You have to believe that too. I want to try being with you and I will; no matter how hard you push me away, I will always stay right here. You won’t knock me off my feet. I won’t let you ‘cause I know you’d hold on just as strong if I ever tried to push you away for something that is just in my head. This life, it’s not in our control. Us? We can control that. It’s the only thing we have a hold over. Feel my heart,” he said, placing her hand over the left side of his chest. 

“Feel that? I’m alive and you’re alive. That’s real. The monsters in our heads? Not real. You were the one who taught me that, and I believe that now. I regained a hope I thought I’d lost, and that hope now entails you, all of you, even the broken, complicated parts. Especially those. ‘Cause what is life if not complicated? What are we if not complex creatures? That’s how God intended the human race to be, after all. I don’t give a fuck if you’re not perfect! No one is. Those who say they are, are just lying to themselves. It’s not real. You are. You’re real and that makes you so much more likable ‘cause raw emotion is the most human thing to have.”

She pulled down into an emotional kiss. Where words failed, she could pour all of her feelings into a single kiss and he would always understand. She knew he would. They were the same, he was right. There could never be someone more fitting for her than him, her missing puzzle piece. 

“What is more human than this?” he whispered against her lips. “What’s more human than being with someone you can be vulnerable with and they still take you for all that you are?”

“You sound like a pastor,” she said. Her nose moved in the opposite direction.

He pulled her closer by the back of her neck. “I know. I used to be one in my previous life.”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“With pleasure.”

She giggled when his teeth dug into her shoulder, tasting the water of the shower mixed with her essence. “I said kiss not bite.”

“Just marking my territory,” he reasoned. 

“Your territory, huh?” She opened her mouth, landing her teeth right on his bicep. 

“Ow! I didn’t even use that many teeth.” 

“Don’t be such a baby, Murdock.”

Her back hit the cold shower wall. 

She gawked up at him. “I shouldn’t have said that, right?” 

Sheepishly, he shook his head. His strong arms pulled her flush against his wet frame. The water came raining down on them at just the right temperature. 

“No,” he murmured. “No, you shouldn’t have.” 

“Well, fuck.” 

She was in for a treat. 

[milkweedman]

Was dragged to a tiny local museum so my sister could flirt with the museum director, but they had some really nice handwoven rugs.

And also a spinning wheel (?) that perplexed me. The flyer is on the wrong way around, for a start, and it's really hard to tell how the treadle and footman were supposed to be positioned (that triangular bit on the side was definitely attached either as the treadle or as part of it, judging by the remnants of the leather straps. Mostly I'm dubious because I couldnt tell if the orifice actually went anywhere, but it didnt look like it did. So I think it might have been a spinning wheel shaped object, but im not sure at all. Didnt get good pictures of it, sorry. It also wasnt labeled at all. Given how the pictures are I doubt theres enough for anyone else to go on but if you have thoughts on it i'd love to hear em !

God, the rugs though. Loved the rugs. Need rugs now.