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#anyway this is not beta'd and it's not my usual fic
cosmictap · 5 days
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I wrote!
Logan walker is a sad sad man I love him
CWs: Implied suicidal ideation? nobody makes an attempt, but it’s worth noting his thoughts arent very happy in the beginning
Logan Walker. He would never call himself special by any stretch of the imagination, and everything in his files tended to agree with that notion. He had, in his professional opinion, the best brother in the world, but him? He was quiet, anxious, regularly described as ‘weird’ by his classmates. He didn’t; or rather, tried not to, let that affect him. Getting through highschool frankly was nothing short of a miracle. They all knew it. He lucked out in his last year before joining the US army, with one Cameron Rorke - his third favourite person, fourth if he was including Riley. He and Cam went through it all together, every stupid little fight he had with his brother, every time he convinced himself the world was out to get him, that it’d be better if he was gone from it entirely.
They did everything together, until Logan and Hesh joined the Ghosts, and the clusterfuck that was their dad’s death. Cameron- he tried, he really did, but he’s never been the best at dealing with processing grief like that, he just felt unbearably guilty, it was *his* dad who killed Elias, after all, despite Logan’s insistence he wasn’t to blame. He’d move heaven and earth for Logan, they both knew that already; but he wasn’t sure how to fix this. If it could be fixed. Death was complicated, he knew that much.
***
Months later, Hesh and Logan were sent on a mission, stealth- as is their usual- in and out, get the information and *leave*. Of course it didn’t go that easily. On their way out Hesh was shot, twice, both bullets hitting, and shattering, his knee. It effectively fucked them, their stealth was near impossible, and they were slowed down significantly.
Logan never once considered leaving his brother behind.
They struggled through it, coming to a head in the middle of a bridge, Hesh’s balance shifted, causing him to slip out of Logan’s grip for just long enough for his leg to collapse under him, semi dangling off the edge of the bridge. Logan could feel his heart pounding, his hands beginning to shake uncontrollably, but he couldn’t let it get to him, he had to pull his brother up, he had to.
***
The Ghosts, back at HQ, could only listen in horror, they knew they were too far to help, that much was obvious, but it didn’t stop the sinking feeling everyone felt, the whole situation was so eerily familiar. The image of Elias trying to hold onto Rorke for all he was worth, how he fell, the atmosphere in the air. Powerless.
They listened as Hesh practically begged Logan to let him go, to just let him die. Surprised, and heartbroken, when Logan responded.
*’I’m not *leaving* you! Fuck- This is the first time i’ve actually felt comfortable, i’m *not* letting you die.’*
He’s not sure how he manages it, but he gets himself and his brother back home in one piece, anger and fear written on his face clear as anything could be.
***
He let himself cry once he was safe, right in their rec room, surrounded by family. Someone - he thinks Keegan - got him a cup of tea. It’s perfectly made and just makes him want to cry more. He leans into Cam, using his best friends - partners- jumper to wipe his tears off onto, letting out a small smile as Cam flicks him for that move.
He’d do anything for his team, for his family. He knew that more than anything.
I listened to Call Your Mum by noah kahan while writing!
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absolute-snzaster · 1 year
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Hoiy shit, y'all, it's me actually answering a prompt! (Well, two prompts.) With a fic! (Well, a mini fic.) @victoriablackrose and @sniction-fiction , two of my greatest comrades in being hørny for W/itcher snz, were both so lovely as to send me prompts from this list, and I decided to combine them!
500ish words of pre-g/eraskier with sick!jask under the cut, for the prompts "sleepy sneezes", "shivery" and "concern". This is meant to be set in the same timeline as Not With That Cold (which I mean to add chapters to someday I swear I have drafts), but much earlier on. Gonna give slight mess and language warnings just in case but they're really barely there. LOTS of stuffy talk, so heads up if that is or isn't your thing. Hope y'all like it! 💕
If Jaskier’s wits had been any less dulled, he would have woken with a shout at the hulking presence looming over him like a ravenous wolf. As it was, however, he had spent the past several days doing battle with an all-consumingly horrid head cold, and every last one of his senses might have been stopped up with glue for all the good they were doing him. And so he merely stirred into vague half-consciousness and turned over in his bedroll, rubbing his interminably stuffy nose against a warm object that, if he really thought about it, hadn’t been there when he went to sleep.
“heh… ehhh… tssh’hew,” he sneezed as the tickle in his feverish nose spiked, irritated by something decidedly hirsute in its immediate presence. The presence moved, then, the warm rampart drawing away from the wet spray of his sneeze, and it was only then that Jaskier’s eyes cracked open enough to see the lumbering form above him.
“Mbelitele’s sacred tits, Geralt, what cad you possibly be doi’g.” His voice was a thin and reedy spectre of its usual melodious affront, his mind still too foggy and congested to properly startle. “‘s the biddle of the ‘dight. Why’re you leadi’g over be like I’b your dext ‘beal.”
Geralt grunted. “You were shivering.”
“I was s—” Jaskier stopped short in the middle of his usual sardonic repetition, stumbling into wakefulness as the realization dawned on him. “...I was shiveri’g. Oh.” He broke out into a positively delighted grin, one that Geralt recognized all too well even on a red nose, cracked lips and bleary eyes and dreaded all the same. “Why, Geralt, you great cake-hearted fool! You–hehh–you were—hehh’TCHEW!! You were cod’cerdned for be!” He gave a tremendous, self-satisfied sniff.
Geralt turned away with a grudging ‘hm’, and Jaskier swore he could almost see the Witcher’s face reddening in the dim glow of the firelight. “You were!” he crowed. “You care for be, Geralt, I kdew it all alo’gg,” he needled him, languidly poking a finger between his ribs.
“Don’t push it,” the Witcher scowled sullenly.
Jaskier held his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, I yield,” he capitulated. “Sdf. You kdow, you’re dot wro’g. It r-really is cold out hehh-heh-EHHTSSCHIIEEWH!” He sneezed wetly, and began shivering again as if to illustrate the point. “Oh d-dear… I d-dod’t suppose you had adythi’g id bi’d to put ad e’d to this, did you.” He drew his bedroll tighter in around him, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Geralt didn’t speak by way of reply. He merely grunted and eased himself down next to Jaskier, wrapping his muscle-bound arms around the shivering bard and pulling him back-first into his big, broad, blessedly warm barrel chest. “Not a word,” the Witcher muttered, stopping Jaskier’s bewildered gasp in its tracks, and while the sniffly bard did technically comply, he couldn’t help the groan of relief that slipped from the depths of his being as the heat—that unfaltering fire he’d always ached for but never had leave to touch—enveloped him.
As he began to drift off, awash in bliss as much as in congestion, Jaskier felt Geralt stir with an unspoken question behind him. “Yes, mby dear Witcher?” he prompted.
Geralt was silent for a moment. Then, “...cake-hearted?”
Jaskier scoffed reproachfully, turning it into a dramatic snuffle which served him all the same. “You mbustd’t laugh at mbe, Geralt. I have—ahhh–hah-hih’TISSH-IEW!—a terrible cold.”
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joelmama · 1 year
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The Fisherman's Wife | Oneshot
no-outbreak!AU, no-Ellie!AU (😞), (basically it's pretty much devoid of anything canon, I'm sorry 😭 I just was desperate to see Joel as a fisherman.)(also don't ask what time-period this is set in i have no clue)
pairing: fisherman!Joel, soft!Joel x afab!fem!Reader content: arranged marriage, angst, fluff, smut. summary: The free-spirited Reader is arranged to marry a divorced Fisherman named Joel Miller. And although she protested this at first, she soon wonders if maybe she could be happy with her new husband. word count: 28.2k (yeesh) warnings: NSFW 18+ - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. mentions of death, age-gap (reader is 27, Joel is 48), smut - oral (f receiving and m recieving), fingering, unprotected p in v sex, reader is inexperienced (meaning loss of virginity), lovesick Joel, and not beta'd! (if i left anything out please let me know :))
(oh and an obscene use of Y/N bc i write in third person 😩)
Ao3 Link
A/N: Hiii~!!! so usually I write fics for a completely different realm of content. but I haven't been able to continue my most recent fic bc this idea has been stuck in my mind for fricken weeks!!! and it wouldn't get out of my head until i actually wrote it down. TLOU has just been on my brain constantly these days i guess 🙄 (🥰). anyways i thought i'd write it, post it here, and then disappear back into my usual corner of the internet, never to be seen again 😈. i hope you enjoy my story!! ILY <3
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Far out from the rainy coast of the Pacific Northwest, sat a small island, always caught in the throes of an aimless sea. It was called the Isle of Ardor. Named after the burning passion of love. It was a peculiar name for the island, as it was always embedded within dark, curling swirls of stormy rain clouds; As well as the sour emotions that came with the storm— provided, of course, by the residents of this Isle. So the island was often left without the feeling of love. Neglected, for lack of any other words. Far from the symbol of love that was known by the world. 
Sure, there was the love that was bestowed by marriage, when a man first sets his sight on his arranged lover dressed in white. Or even love passed between a parent and a child, when a mother first hears the first laugh that tumbles out of her sweet childs lips. Or the fumbling platonic love that creates itself in whispered secrets during sleepovers between friends. But none of it was burning. None of it was passionate. It was a simple form of love. A perfect representation of the simple life that was often led on the Isle of Ardor. Despite its exciting name. 
A more fitting name would perhaps be something more simple. Unembellished. Basic. Ordinary. Sturdy. Something to match the uniform march of the adults in this town, as they traveled along the cobblestone roads in early morning light. Headed towards their humdrum jobs that kept the economy of this island churning like a slow cog in the machine. Meanwhile, the children were taught about this monotonous life in school. Sat rigid in their seats, the stiff collar of their uniform scratching at their necks. Forced to listen, forced to learn that there was only one path for them to take. All signs pointed, roads led and everything suggested that these children— Just as their parents, and their grandparents—  were destined for a life of simplicity. 
It was the exact opposite of what Y/N wanted. She abhorred the idea of simple. She wanted excitement. Yearned for passion. Craved the burn of love that left scars on your heart and bruises on your lips. 
Her wants and desperate needs were proven in the way she grew up. There wasn’t a day that went by where she wouldn’t step out of line. Her wrists would be sore from the snap of her teacher's ruler. Her ears would grow tired of the constant reprimand from her father. And her knees would bleed freely from the times she would escape the horrid monotony of life, out into the nature beyond. But the island was small, and her feet could only take her so far, so she would always easily be caught. She would return home with her sore wrists, tired ears and bloody knees, and sit by her bedroom window, hoping for something greater to take her away. 
It never came.
Eventually, she grew older. She matured, and she learned how to stay in line. For the most part. But as she aged, her tongue grew sharper with wit, and she soon often got in trouble for using words that could rival a sailor’s. By the time she was of marriageable age, no one on the island wanted anything to do with her. This all of course was to the dismay of her father. Who at this point thought that he would never be rid of his rambunctious daughter. 
He loved her with all of his beating heart, of course. But on the Isle of Ardor, all fathers wanted the same thing for their daughters. By the age of eighteen, they wanted their girls to find a satisfactory suitor to take care of them so that the fathers didn't have to worry as they faded into their old age. 
By now, all of Y/N’s classmates were already married. While at the age of twenty-seven due to her wild nature, no one had brought any offers to their household for her hand in marriage. Her father grew weaker and weaker as worry settled into his bones. 
Y/N on the other hand was ecstatic by her lack of prospects. Being a spinster meant she didn’t have to worry about some silly husband, wife or partner she didn’t truly care about. If people thought she was crazy? So be it. It was all worth it for the price of her freedom.
And now as she had no other burden brought on by school or a job, she would oftentimes be found by the raging ocean. Her toes deep in the blackened sand, skin salted by the sea and her hair tangled by the mischievous winds. And this is exactly where she was the minute she found out about the news that would tear her world apart.
Her father had found her a suitor.
The news was brought to her by the young messenger boy who would carry the most recent word of mouth with him on his rusty bicycle. Her father had flagged him down, offering a bill or two to find his daughter and bring her home immediately to meet the man she was destined to marry. 
The poor boy. He didn’t deserve to be met with the rage of a mad woman, but that was what he stumbled across when the news of her arranged marriage escaped from between his lips. At the sight, he suddenly understood why she was considered the town spinster. She was angered and chaotic, screaming into the wind when his words finally registered. She looked like a feral animal, the way she gnashed her teeth, yelling about the unfairness of it all. 
Him being no older than ten years old, couldn’t really understand why she was so upset about this news. She mumbled a few things— Something about her loss of freedom and self expression. But it was all very strange. He was used to the usual reaction from young women whenever they heard the news of their engagement. They were always… ecstatic. Squealing like pigs as they clutched onto their nearest friend, family member or even just a stranger. Or if they were unhappy with the prospect of marriage— just as Y/N was now— they were always able to hold their tongue until they were alone. 
Her reaction was all just very… strange. Very different. 
And different, it was. She now sat, stewing in her anger, refusing to even spare a glance towards her future husband.
A celebratory dinner, made carefully and happily by her aunt, sat on the wooden table stretched between them. It was all the distance she needed to ignore the man she was meant to be betrothed to. But even though she could avert her gaze, there was no getting past listening in on the conversation that flitted between this man and her family members.
She had learned that he lived on the other side of the island. So now it made sense that she didn’t recognize his surname when the messenger boy first told it to her. She barely got to know the names of her neighbors, let alone those on the windward side.
He was known as Joel Miller, only learning his first name when her father greeted him at the beginning of the evening, with a sturdy handshake at their front door, the casual name falling from his tongue as they exchanged niceties. As she stood behind her father’s shoulder, she refused to look at him even then, her eyes steady on the toes of her boots. 
Now at the table, the topic of his occupation also arose during the conversation. He spoke of his adventures out at sea, and what he encountered in his life as a fisherman. 
Typical. A fisherman. The most sought out job on this island as they were mainly considered as gods since they provided the island with prosperous amounts of food and good fortune. The people that held the title of ‘fishermen’ were always the most sought after when it came to marriage. Y/N wondered how her father was able to find a man like that for her. 
But as the dinner went on, the secret was soon revealed. Because she soon learned that his wife had left him. Many years ago, late in the night as a stowaway on a cargo ship headed towards the mainland. The only thing worse than a spinster was a man whose wife had left him. And now the puzzle pieces were fitting together. 
They were a match made in heaven. The crazy woman and the unwanted man. 
Y/N felt nothing but sympathy for his first wife. Surely, she was just the same as she. The only reason a woman would leave her partner was if she yearned for freedom beyond the tassels of marriage. Maybe eventually, Y/N would make the score two for two. Leave him behind just as his first wife did. The thought brought an overwhelming onslaught of anticipation that burned within the girl's core. 
But she had to be patient. She couldn’t just leave him when all eyes were narrowed in on their engagement. The whispers on the street all revolved around her, and how she was finally able to snag a man after all these years. Even more speculation was offered when they found out who the man was. Apparently these two were a circus act around the Isle of Ardor. A horrific accident that none of the residents could tear their eyes from.
Maybe that’s why their wedding was so crowded. 
A few weeks had past, and she had yet to grant the man with her gaze. All she knew of his looks was the quick glimpse of silver she saw scattered amongst the brown in his hair, and the hard set of his jawline, clenched in an anger that seemed to always be present. So as she walked down the aisle, her fingers clenched around a wilting bouquet of daisies, she kept her eyes pointed towards the horizon that lingered in the distance.
Traditional Ardorian weddings were always held in the same place. On the cliffside, hanging over the tempestuous sea that always danced near the shores of the Isle. The same clergyman, performed the same ceremony, spoke the same gentle words every single time. She has been to countless versions of this very same wedding throughout the duration of her life. Though, she never thought that it would be her who was forced to stand under the wedding arch. Especially in her late-mothers wedding gown, in front of the entirety of the small town that sat on the coast of Ardor. 
The most surprising part of it all was when she exchanged her ‘I do’s’ effortlessly and without any complaint. 
Maybe that was what also surprised most of the wedding-goers, as they began to whisper to one another. The crowd seemed disappointed, almost as if they expected a spectacle from the woman they deemed a recluse. From the rumors they’ve already heard through the grapevine, maybe they were expecting her to grow reckless with abandon. To stomp her feet and scream out to the gods. So when they were met with this quiet, timid version of the woman, who spoke her vows with no contradiction, they all stood and left the wedding. Completely missing out on the part when the man was told to kiss his bride. Which he didn’t even do. 
A very strange wedding indeed. 
It all came to a head when the man called Joel finally brought his new wife towards the threshold of their (used) marital home. It was a few hours after the ceremony, and usually this part of the evening was paired with bright, eager smiles as newly-weds were finally allowed to consummate their love. However, as we already know with this couple, the night went very differently than the norm that is usually presented. 
As soon as he had unlocked the door for his established home, the woman stormed through the front entrance, her eyes darting around each corner as she took in each aspect of her new home. Trying to find something to dislike. But it was an agreeable home. Comfortable and cluttered with trinkets that must’ve meant a great deal to the man. It was… interesting. So after finding nothing she could truly complain about, and be the disastrous wife she planned to be, she whipped towards him in an unexpected flurry, her arms folding across her chest. 
Her eyes finally landed on him for the very first time. And she stilled. 
He was older. Much older. But she already knew that from the information she learned from her father. What she didn’t know was how good age looked on the man. He was handsome... And so much larger than she had thought. His shoulders were wide, emphasized as he stood in the doorway. His hands looked strong and calloused, obviously capable of working against the aggression brought forth by an unforgiving sea. 
Then there were the features she had only caught glimpses of, but yet she was overly familiar with— due to the flashes of her memory that blared across the dark of her eyelids whenever she tried to sleep. His brown curls were unruly across his forehead, despite his attempt to manage them with gel, most likely trying to look put together for the wedding. They were painted with faint hues of gray, evidence of the twenty-some years he had against her. 
Her eyes tugged towards his familiar jawline. Strong— just as she remembered. But it wasn’t clenched in anger, or anything else of the sorts. His features were molded in a form that looked to be like curiosity. Maybe this was the first real look he had of her as well…
That’s when she met the deep brown irises of his eyes. The sight of which was a drastic contrast of anything else she had known of him. They were almost… warm and forgiving, bordered by the faint outline of crows feet, formed over the years. His gaze was soft in the way he considered her features and dragged over the curves of her body. So different from the harsh lines of the rest of his body.
She held her arms tighter against her form. Feeling vulnerable under his stare.
“I don’t know what you’re expecting to happen…” Y/N finally spoke the first words she ever said to the man who was considered to be her husband, “But I can assure you that it’s not what you’re thinking.”
The man simply stared at her, his eyebrows raising at her words. She took a step back as he took a step inside, but felt foolish as he only did so to turn around and shut the front door behind him. The familiar sea breeze now lost to them. 
When he turned back around, he spoke the first words he ever said to the woman who was considered to be his wife. 
“I wasn’t expectin’ anything.” He replied, his sentence simple and his accent faded.
She had heard his voice before. When he was speaking to her father and reciting his vows. But now that it was directed towards her, it finally dawned on her how deep it was. How it rumbled through his chest in such a way that it settled deep within Y/N’s bones.
She was perturbed by the sensation. So much so that her next argument was lost on her tongue.
“Follow me.” He said, in the absence of her words.
Since there wasn’t much left to do, she did just that. The small house shifted under the weight of their footfalls as they ascended up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s eyes were trained on the sight of his broad back, taking up so much space as he ventured through the hallways of this two-story home. 
Her eyes were soon torn away from his form as she took in the decor of the rest of his— their house. It matched what she saw downstairs. Everything was nautical themed, something common within the homes that littered this island. But the way this house was decorated was different. Instead of the manufactured ocean aesthetic that Y/N was used to, everything about this house was… natural. The way she felt in this house felt exactly how she felt on the beaches that ringed around this tiny island. She never thought she’d ever meet anyone who was able to capture the essence of the natural world so effortlessly. She began to soften, similar to what she felt when she saw that look in his brown eyes.
She squared her shoulders against the thought, forcing her resolve back to the forefront of her mind. This was the last place she wanted to be. She had to remind herself of that. 
“This is your room.” Joel muttered in that deep voice of his, stopping at a door sat at the end of the hall. His large hand twisting the golden doorknob, it swung open as he pushed against the wood. 
“My room?” Y/N questioned, as she stood on her tiptoes, staring into the confines that were now revealed from over Joel’s shoulder. She took in the sight of a wrought-iron bed, a vanity and a wardrobe built out of dark-stained wood. Furniture to call her own for the first time. 
“Your’s.” He nodded in confirmation. And then he stepped aside, letting her venture further into the room. She breathed in the fresh air that was granted by the windows that still stood open against either wall, crickets calling through the crevices, seeping in from the dark of the night. 
She ran a hand over the handmade quilt that covered the mattress, cool against her palm, unslept in for months— maybe years. 
The floorboards squeaked under her feet as she turned quickly towards where Joel was standing. But the doorway was empty. Her words of gratitude fell flat against the air now that there was no one to direct them to. 
He must’ve snuck off as she was admiring the room, assuming she wanted to be left alone. Which she did. But no one had ever respected her privacy before. She definitely wasn’t expecting the courtesy from the man she was forced to marry. 
A weird feeling wormed its way into Y/N’s heart, one she had never felt before. She chose to ignore it as she plopped onto the mattress, springs squeaking under her weight, staring at the vacant space where Joel once stood.
~
Weeks passed by, and neither one of the newlyweds tried to make any contact with one another as they resided in their separate bedrooms.
Since Y/N was now destined to be a doting housewife, no one had any expectations for her beyond the household she currently lived in. And since Joel was avoiding her just as much as she was him, it was easy to dismiss his heavy footfalls that rang out against the house in the early hours of the morning. All she had to do was wait until they faded off the steps of the front porch, and then she was free to roam the house that was now half hers. 
Though after her exploring was finished, most of her days were spent in the garden, overgrown from lack of maintenance, but Y/N happened to like it that way. She was elated to find it, as she stood on the precipice of the backyard that very first morning. And now Y/N could be found curled on the antiquated porch swing that sat among the weeds, a book cradled in her lap, stolen from the office she also discovered on her second day of living with her new husband. 
However, as she relaxed in the garden, sun shining over every inch of her exposed skin, guilt would soon riddle her bones. It was another feeling she wasn’t used to. But now that she was married and now that she knew that Joel wasn’t the horrible intrusive husband she thought he would be, she decided he deserved to come home to a warm meal. So eventually— after a few of her days spent basking in the sun, the guilt becoming too much— she would one day venture to the market nearest their marital home and pick up ingredients to make the man some dinner after his long day at the docks.
She would never actually eat with him, of course— only leaving the homemade food in a ceramic pot stationed in the middle of the kitchen table. But she hoped her gesture proved enough that she wasn’t exactly angered by his newfound presence in her life. 
Despite the fact that she still planned on her escape.
It was obvious that Joel wasn’t a bad husband. And of course, that brought pause to the woman. She wondered what exactly it was that drove his first wife to leave him when he wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought. But the mystery still couldn’t counter with the fact that Y/N was desperate for her freedom, and desperate for a love that would set her heart on fire. Surely she couldn’t find that sort of thing on this tiny insignificant island. She had to escape. Didn’t she?
The topic stayed constant on her mind as she perused the books in Joel’s tiny library (library being a generous term, it was actually just one shelf tucked in the corner of his office). One day, in the living room, she even stumbled upon a great big atlas that Joel had left behind, turned open on a page that showcased an image of the world. All the little squiggles and lines that made up the map of their great big earth, her soulmate must have resided within one of those faraway places. He couldn’t have been so close, on the tiny dot that represented the Isle of Ardor, it seemed impossible.
Now lost in thought about chances and percentages, the young woman paid no mind to the time that passed as she flipped through the large pages of the atlas. The sun was dipping low beneath the horizon, painting the skies with pinks, and oranges. She had yet to even make dinner when Joel had walked through the front door.
She stood quickly from her spot on the couch. As a habit, her tongue fumbled through the words that would leave her mouth whenever her father would return from work. 
“Welcome home.”
Joel paused in the doorway. His brows furrowed in confusion since by this time the woman was usually found locked in her bedroom. And typically, when one welcomes you home, you’re supposed to reply with some form of gratitude, at least this was custom to the Isle of Ardor. But Joel was at a loss for words. To have his new wife, ready and expectant of him was unfamiliar. Especially since she had granted no interest in him for the past few weeks.
“I forgot to make dinner.” She told him, seemingly desperate to fill the silence. Her tone was soft with apprehension, she looked like a timid little rabbit. “I’m sorry.”
Taking in her words, and the sight of her— chest heaving as she stood by the couch, almost as if she were caught in the act of something despicable— Joel soon realized that this was all an accident. He wasn’t meant to find her like this. She had only gotten lost within whatever activity she was currently indulging herself in. 
He caught sight of the atlas he left on the couch late last night. It was there since he was currently making plans for his upcoming fishing trip, but it was quickly forgotten once the threat of sleep had forced him to make his way back towards his bedroom. Was that what she was looking at? His lips parted with even more realization, if that was the case. He had a sneaking suspicion why she would be interested in a book like that. But he wasn’t about to ask her any incriminating questions.
“That’s alright.” He breathed, shutting the door behind him and foregoing any accusations he could potentially throw her way. “I can make something.”
“No, please.” She begged, as if guilt forced her back into the role of a doting wife. “You’ve had a long day. Allow me.”
She moved through the small living room of the house in long strides, headed towards the kitchen. She was determined to be the good wife she promised to be when she made her vows. Even if it was a lie at the time. Even if it still was as she planned for her escape.
As she brushed past Joel, her wrist was suddenly encased in a pool of unexpected warmth. His calloused fingers were wrapped firmly against her skin. In the month that they had been married, this was the first time he had ever touched her. Her heart lodged itself in her throat. Her gaze shifted so that she was staring wide-eyed up at her husband.
“Let me help you.” He murmured, his own eyes pleading her for something she was unsure of. 
“Okay.” She whispered, nodding her head slightly, since there was nothing else she could do.
Now here they were, standing in their humble kitchen, stove hot and burning as they both stood over the swirling pot of spices, vegetables and fish. This form of intimacy was unfamiliar to them. It was the closest they’ve been in weeks, and it felt far more vulnerable than it did when they stood across the aisle as they spoke their vows. Joel’s hand was gripped harshly against the wooden spoon as he stirred the contents of their stew. Y/N’s fingers were latched onto the salt shaker, her eyes trained on the little grain of bitter crystal that was lodged in one of the holes. 
“Here.” Joel practically whispered, holding up the spoon for his wife to taste. She glanced up at him through her lashes, hesitantly, before slowly leaning forward.
Her supple lips formed around the wood as she slurped at its contents. Joel shivered at the sight. He knew that his new wife was pretty, but seeing as she took his requests so willingly, was a sight to behold. Her lips seemed so plush, and the way her eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks as she blew cold air across his offered taste, almost had him down on his knees. His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed harshly against his dry throat, mind littered with filthy innuendos.
“How’s it taste?” He asked, his voice strained, forcing away the provocative thoughts that forged to the front of his mind.
Her brows furrowed in concentration as she held the flavor on her tongue. But soon a small grin flickered across her features. Joel’s stomach dipped at the sight. A feeling he hadn’t felt in years— maybe decades... maybe ever.
“It’s good.” She replied, wrapping her own smaller fingers around Joel’s hand as she brought the spoon up for a second taste. The touch of her hand was a shock, to say the least. It was only their second instance of skin contact and yet it was so much different than before. Only because it was her that was touching him. Willingly— no, purposefully. Embarrassingly enough, the surprise of it all was somehow too much for the older man. The spoon slipped from his grasp, clattering against the tile, splashing stew across the lower half of the surrounding cabinets, as well as the long hem of Y/N’s skirt. Joel took a large step back, the heat of shame licking up his neck to the tips of his ears.
“Sorry— I— Sorry.” He stammered, finishing his words somewhat lamely. He felt like a shy little school boy, he couldn’t even meet her gaze. It was humiliating. 
That was until he heard the sound of her laughter. Soft and tinkling, with no hint of malice. She wasn’t laughing at him, she wasn’t even laughing with him. It was more like she was laughing at the entire situation, or maybe at nothing in particular. He finally braved a glance up at her, to see those supple lips curled into a bright smile. His heart lurched at the sight.
She didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge his fumbling apology, instead she shook her head slightly, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater, a smile still apparent on her face as she got to her knees and began to clean up the mess. She didn’t even worry about the splotches of blooming red that was scattered across the white fabric of her pretty skirt. She let it stain. Lasting proof of the very first dinner they shared as man and wife.
He served it up in heaping spoonfuls. Steam lazily swirling up from the hot meal, confined in ceramic bowls that Joel had pulled from the cabinets. After Y/N’s laughter had faded from the air, the only sound that graced their ears was that of spoons scraping against the stoneware as they savored their last bites.
No words were spoken as they sat at the kitchen table. And the woman couldn’t decide if it was awkward or not. She was never one to be deterred by the presence of silence, but she was curious if the man who now sat across from her was.
Not that he was a man of many words. He was silent in the very way he lived. His actions were always careful and well thought out. Maybe that’s why she hadn’t heard of him before their betrothal. You don’t turn the cogs of the rumor mill if you keep to yourself. Which is what Joel seemed to do. 
So maybe he liked the silence. Y/N decided she did as well. 
Though it was finally broken when they stood at the kitchen sink, Joel was washing the dishes while Y/N dried— All serenaded by the sound of running water and clanking utensils. That was all it was until his words filtered in through the white noise.
“I’m leavin’ tomorrow.” He told her, eyes trained on the tiny soap bubbles attaching themselves to the skin of his hands. They were iridescent in their color. The distraction of it left the furrow between Y/N’s brows unknown. She wondered where on earth he could possibly be going. But the question was soon answered as he continued.
“It’s the first fishin’ trip of the season. Gonna be gone for a week or two.” He explained. Her mouth formed around a silent ‘ah’ as understanding dawned on her.
Fishing expeditions were always a big spectacle in this little town. Caught in glimpses on her way to school, Y/N always observed the teary-eyed farewells passed between the fishermen and their families. Hands up in the air in enthusiastic waves of goodbye as the ship drew further out to sea, becoming a small insignificant dot and then turning into nothing against the horizon. 
She liked the return days far better. They always seemed much happier when loving arms wrapped around trembling shoulders, a warm embrace to signify how grateful the fishermen were to be brought home safe and unharmed. It was one of the few times this island lived up to its name. 
And now the woman was left wondering if Joel expected her to become one of the teary-eyed family members waiting down by the docks. 
“What time are you leaving?” She asked, carefully setting down the bowl that resided in her hands, it clinked against the wooden countertop.
“Early.” He replied, his large fingers hooking around the faucet lever, shutting off the constant stream of water. In its absence, the silence was louder and the same could be said of that deep voice of his. “Don’t worry. I’ll try not to wake you when I leave.”
So now the question was answered. He didn’t expect anything from her. Just like he said that very first night. It was still a foreign concept for her. She wasn’t sure if she truly believed it. 
Though the belief finally found her when she woke up late the next morning, the sun deep in the sky, shining bright over her bed and warming her skin. She laid there for a minute, staring up at the ceiling as she considered the quiet state of the house. It was silent now more than ever. Left without the sound of Joel’s familiar footsteps as well as a final goodbye.
~
The time spent alone in the little house was surprisingly dreary. 
At first— once the realization that she had the house to herself settled in, the woman was ecstatic. She had never been left to her own devices before. Usually she would have to cheat her way out of the ever-present company of her family, just for five minutes of precious solitude. Now she had hours of it— days of it. It was exhilarating. It was freeing. It was… lonely.
And maybe just a little bit scary, as she curled under her sheets at night, unable to explain away the creaks that filtered in from under her door now that Joel was gone. 
Joel.
The absence of him presented Y/N with the unexpected discovery that he was a form of comfort that surrounded the walls of this house. Almost as if he were the protector of this hearth. And now that he was gone, the little noises she heard at night shifted into dark threatening creatures within the confines of Y/N’s overactive imagination.  
She cursed herself for her sudden lack of backbone. 
However, the daytime was somehow worse. Because at least during the night, her fear would soon subside once the calming tendrils of sleep coaxed Y/N back into her dreams. But during the day, when she was sitting on that squeaky porch swing, boredom would be the next thing to burden her. And there was nothing she could do to alleviate herself from it. 
There were only so many books in Joel’s collection. Only so many rooms that were left to explore (excluding the master bedroom of course). And only so many activities that she could think to do to distract herself. So as she sat there aimlessly, swinging back and forth under a late afternoon sun, it dawned on her that she was most entertained when navigating this new delicate life that she shared with Joel.
Which eventually brought her to the greater realization that it wasn’t fear or boredom that caused the ache that burned low in her stomach. No, it was the fact of the matter that she had simply missed Joel. One might describe that ache as yearning. But Y/N would definitely not be the one to do so. So she ignored the feeling.
She ignored it until it was replaced with the growing buzz of anticipation when the day of Joel’s return finally arrived. 
Excited whispers were passed from mouth to ear as everyone spoke about the ship's return. Y/N had caught a conversation while perusing the pitted-fruits at the market, relaying the information that the boat was set to dock later that evening. And as she quickly returned the contents that resided in her basket— replacing it with enough ingredients for a meal made for two rather than one— Y/N wondered if she was perhaps sharing in the excitement that took over the small island.
Which would be very odd, for she never once felt united with her fellow townspeople, and she could hardly believe that she was excited to see the man she was forced to marry. Though the oddest thing was, (and this was still unbeknownst to the young woman herself) was that she hadn’t thought of her underlying desire to escape, whatsoever. Not even once while she was left alone for the past two weeks, which by all means would have been the perfect time to plan her getaway. But the notion was completely lost to her mind as she hurriedly made her way back home so that she could start on dinner.
It was a sight to behold.
Later that evening, as Joel stood in the entranceway, limbs overtired from his harsh venture out to sea, he thought he was hallucinating. The last thing he expected when he walked through that door was to be met with the image of his wife, looking oh-so pretty in a light blue dress, waiting eagerly by a table full of food. The whole scene of it was washed in a golden light from candles set across the room. It was set to look like a dream. Was he dreaming?
He had thought their dinner the night before he left would be the last one. In fact, he had thought that would be the last time he'd ever see her. 
Joel wasn’t an oblivious man. He knew how she felt about this whole arrangement. It was obvious in the way she would avoid looking at him when they had first met. And even if he couldn’t see the hatred she harbored for him within her irises, the woman wore her heart on her sleeve. He could see her indignation in the way she huffed around the house and stomped her way into the garden. Which was all made much more confusing when she started leaving him hot meals after his work was finished by the dock. He didn’t anticipate such a kind gesture from her.
She was a mystery. But he supposed she leaned more towards the side of completely hating his guts as she was still bent on avoiding him those first couple of weeks into their marriage.
Not that he could blame the woman. He only said yes to her father’s proposition because the man looked so desperate. He was practically down on his knees. And Joel couldn’t say he wasn’t enticed by the idea of not having to return to an empty home any longer. 
But Joel wasn’t attached to the idea of their marriage. 
So if she wanted to avoid him, he would grant her the space she needed. If she wanted to huff at him in anger whenever their paths did cross, he would take the onslaught. And if she wanted to escape into the night, never to be heard from again, who was he to try and stop her?
In the meantime, he would enjoy the meals she left for him.
Then came the night when she decided to share it with him. Sure, it was an accident. And the entire encounter was fumbling and awkward. But it sparked a small bout of warmth deep within his chest. 
He supposed that feeling was hope. Or at least that was the conclusion he came to as he was rocked to sleep by the ebbing waves underneath his ship. He had felt hope before, it’s been a long time, but he knew what it was. That’s all it could ever be. But what was he hoping for?
Hope that this could be something more than a marriage certificate? Hope that she would stick around, at least for a few more weeks? Hope that he would see her face amongst the crowd as their ship pulled back into the dock?
When he didn’t see her, the warmth was lost to him. And in its absence that’s when he knew that’s exactly what it was. Without that flame of hope, he was now shrouded in darkness just like he knew his house would be when he returned under the setting sun.
So he was not expecting this. Not at all. 
“You’re here.” He said, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. A little line appeared between her two brows as confusion riddled her features.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked, head tilting with the question.
“I don’t know. I just… thought that maybe you’d be gone.” He replied, shaking his own head slightly as he admitted his suspicion out loud.
Busted. 
Y/N’s shoulders tensed as the words hung in the air between them. She should have known that he’d catch on to her plans, she wasn’t usually the type to be subtle with her grievances. But there was a twinge in her stomach at his admittance. The one thing he expected of her was exactly the one thing she wanted. And he would’ve let it happen. The hidden honesty in his words coerced the same thing from her own lips.
“I thought the same thing.” She confessed, a small bashful smile forming on her lips. The corners of Joel's mouth twitched up into a fleeting smile. It was gone within seconds. But the gleam of it still shone within the depths of his brown irises.
Then he offered her a small understanding nod. And that was all that was needed. The flame of hope flickered on.
They both took their seats and ate the homemade dinner in comfortable silence.
~
The same fragile routine had now taken place every night since then. As soon as Joel would return home from the docks, he would be greeted by the sight of Y/N chopping up the chosen vegetable for that night. If he came home early enough, there would still be certain tasks that needed to be finished, and she never complained when he would step in beside her with freshly washed hands— the sleeves of his flannel rolled further up his forearms— ready to help. 
He liked those times the most. There was something serene in the way they moved around the kitchen together, as if they were living proof of perfect harmony. So most days, Joel would finish the menial tasks at work as quickly as he possibly could to return home before she finished cooking. He was greedy for more of these interactions to hold under his belt. And he would always be slightly disappointed whenever he found the table already set. Though that grievance wouldn’t last long as he was soon greeted by Y/N’s smile, that seemed to be getting brighter with each passing day. 
Unfortunately for Y/N, she was not granted with the same reassurance. 
As it turns out, Joel was a brick wall of a man, which was a fact he was completely unaware of. So his expressions of contentedness were lost on the woman. She wasn’t observant enough to notice how he would return home from work earlier and earlier each day. Or to catch on to the way his eyes would linger on her while they silently ate their dinner. 
What she did notice was how he never smiled. It was as if he never learned how to. Maybe he had been a sad little baby from the moment he was born. Or perhaps he did know how to smile, and he just never had a reason to. Not even now. Not even with her. 
Which, to be honest, was a punch in the gut for the young woman, since she had been finding so much joy during the times they shared together. 
She tried to be rational, because Joel had always been a very unemotional man. But Y/N’s brain always kicked into overdrive whenever she was left alone with her thoughts, and it always boiled down to the conclusion that perhaps Joel just didn’t like her very much. 
Oh, how the tables have turned. One minute she detested the man she was betrothed to and in the next she lapped up any attention he had gifted her like a small pathetic puppy. She was desperate to know more about the man. What was it that made him smile? Who was he? What were his interests? What was he like as a child?
And why on earth would his first wife ever leave him?
She had found out the answer to that— as well as caught her first glimpse of the surprising range of his emotions— all in the same night. 
There was a storm that evening. Dark and unrelenting as the onslaught of rain pounded against the roof of their quaint little house. Big bolts of lighting hung low in the sky, illuminating the world in small fractions of time. The thunder rolling deep on its heel. 
Joel was hours late. The dinner that sat on the table was ice cold. Though that fact was unnoticed by the woman, as she paced the distance of the kitchen, her bones wracked with worry. This was the perfect example of how her mind kicked into overdrive in times of distress. She assumed the worst. 
She imagined Joel dead, left unbreathing, body lost under treacherous waves. 
Panic quickened the beat of her heart. Any efforts she made to calm herself fell flat. Reason and rationality were lost to her completely. All she could do was to keep moving her feet. 
Back and forth. Back and forth.
Until her feet took her further. Soft footsteps rang out against the floor of the living room and then up the stairs. They paced the length of the hallway a few times until the woman found herself stationed in front of the door to the master bedroom.
Her hand had somehow found itself gripped around the cool metal of the doorknob. 
When she twisted it, the door swung open with ease. 
It was easy for Y/N to dismiss her worries when it was replaced by a burning curiosity. She stood at the precipice of his bedroom, eyes flickering over every surface. 
There was a large bed that sat in the middle of the room, left untidy by the man who stumbled out of it early that morning. The image of his large form tangled in the sheets flickered to the front of her mind, before she forced herself to focus on the next part of the room.
There was a bay window, looking out over the back garden. The bench underneath it was adorned with countless throw pillows, a detail that must have been added by his previous wife. Joel didn’t seem to be the type to appreciate that type of decor. A weird surge of jealousy was added to the other emotions she was already riddled with that evening. It burned bright behind her sternum. 
But then her gaze roamed over the bookshelf that towered over the rest of the room. It resided next to a door, but what could potentially be hidden behind it wasn’t what had her feet moving deeper into the room. (Since it was most likely a bathroom, anyways.)
It was a picture.
Sat on one of the middle shelves of the bookshelf. It was framed in an intricate engraved pattern of gold-painted wood, a happy memory captured in black and white. 
Frozen in time was the image of a young girl— most likely not even reaching double digits in her age. Her smile was bright and somewhat stubborn as she grinned up at her from the frame. She had dark skin and soft eyes that reminded the woman of Joel. Her hair framed her face in disorderly curls, tousled by the seabreeze. Y/N smiled softly at the wild look that sparked in the girl's irises, as if ready for any adventure that would be thrown her way. She ran a finger over the smooth glass, like she could caress the girl's face in her own hands.
“What are you doing?”
It wasn’t the words themselves that caused the woman to drop the picture, but rather the rage that was intertwined within them. Her eyes snapped up to find Joel standing in the door, backlit from the light in the hallway. His brown hair was matted against the skin of his forehead, soaked by the heavy rain. The rest of it dripped off of his clothes as they clung to his skin, creating a puddle around his boot-clad feet. 
The glass of the frame shattered once it hit the floor. 
“Who told you, you could come in here?” He seethed, reaching her in just a few long strides. She cowered against the bookshelf in his advancement but the collision never came. He bent towards the ground, large hands shifting through the broken glass.
“I-I’m sorry.” Y/N stammered, dropping down to help him. He pushed her hands away.
“Don’t.” He snapped. 
“Why would you do this?” He then added, his words were harsh. He looked up at her, his eyes were dark with his wrath. A small pathetic sound squeaked out of her throat, she shook her head, unable to find the words.
And then the next thing she knew, she was running. Was it the anger that caused her to run? Or perhaps her own embarrassment. She didn’t know. But the sudden invasion of his unconventional display of emotion had become all too much. The same feet that carried her towards the master bedroom brought her out into the garden.
Y/N barely realized where she was until she registered the harsh rain that bombarded her skin, her hair and clothes instantly soaked as she ventured out among the overgrown weeds. Her legs didn’t stop until her palms wrapped around the familiar wood of the porch swing she spent so much of her time with. Her shoulders shook with shame, cursing herself inwardly for her intrusiveness. 
And then… Somehow, through the howling wind, Y/N had heard her name. 
She whipped her head towards the house to see that Joel had followed her. He charged through the storm, through the vegetation that whipped wildly in the wind, until he reached her. She expected more of his anger.
Instead she was met with two large hands cupping her cheeks.
“Are you hurt?” He asked over the raging of the storm, before she could make any questions of her own.
“I— what?” She faltered, her hands instinctively moving up to caress the skin of his wrists.
“Are you alright?” He repeated himself with new words, his brown eyes flickering over each feature of her face, as if he was making sure each part of her was still there. 
“It’s only rain. Of course I’m alright.” She answered, a bit impatiently. Did he really think so little of her and her competence?
“You certain?” He asked, and that’s when Y/N took notice of the panic that resided in his brown irises. His breathing was dissonant and in a sense, frightened. This was something else entirely.
“Joel.” She said her tone shifted drastically from annoyance to something much softer. But his movements were still frantic as he searched her for any injuries.
“Joel!” She said again, louder this time, hoping to gain his attention. When she didn’t, Y/N tightened her grip around the wrist of his right hand, and shifted it towards her beating heart. She hoped he could feel the proof of her life that thrummed against the skin of her chest. 
The evidence of her heartbeat calmed Joel down, his breathing evened out.
“I’m fine.” She murmured, tilting her chin to kiss the palm of his left hand. She was unsure of what brought her to do it, but it seemed to help as Joel then pulled her into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around her shoulders. He sighed once he felt her weight against him.
“I’m alright.” She reiterated into his soaked flannel. His arms wound tighter around her.
And then they were back inside. To her objection, he had made her take a shower, to extinguish any chill that the rain might have instilled in her bones. She almost got away with not taking one until her chattering teeth proved her otherwise. He had given her such a demanding look that she had no other choice but to do as he said. 
So once she was showered and dressed in warm pajamas, (and once he did the same). They were now sitting in the living room. Her knees were curled up to her chest as she sat on the couch, Joel’s feet were solid against the patterned rug that sat beneath them, in an armchair angled directly in front of her. Their usual silence had found them again. Was it comfortable or not? Y/N had yet to find out. Joel broke it before she could.
“I’m sorry.” He told her, his cheeks pink with shame and his eyes averted to the ground. She shook her head in defiance to his apology, even though she knew he couldn’t see her.
“No, it was my—” She tried to counter. But he pursed his lips, causing her to promptly keep her mouth shut.
“I shouldn’t’ve yelled at you like that.” He said after a brief pause.
“It was well deserved.” Y/N admitted, lifting her shoulders in a shrug. “I shouldn’t have entered your room.”
Joel shook his head the same way she did, only slightly, but Y/N caught it.
“It was about time, anyways.” He commented. She resisted the urge to pry for more, cause she knew that eventually he would indulge in her curiosities. And he did.
“She was my daughter.” He murmured, knuckles white from his grip on the arms of the plush leather chair he was sitting upon.
“The girl. In the picture.” Joel clarified when he was met with her silence. But Y/N already knew that. Her silence to his explanation was due to the word he used. Was.
She repeated it out loud, in the form of a question. 
A sigh escaped Joel's lips, he leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees. He still wouldn’t meet Y/N’s gaze.
“Do you remember that storm twelve years ago?” Joel questioned, his palm running over his forehead as he prepared himself to tell this story. Y/N responded with a soft ‘yes.’ It was a horrible, outrageous storm that caused so much damage to their little town. So much loss and heartache that hung over the island, even to this day. She was fifteen years old. The fear of it all was still present in her memories.
“Well, my daughter… Sarah. She…” His voice cracked, he dragged in a shuddering breath. “Somehow she got outside. Debris from the old farmhouse across the street was picked up by the wind. Pierced right through her—” 
A sharp sob interrupted his sentence. Y/N wasted no time. She pushed up from her spot on the couch and was on her knees, sitting in front of him in a moment's notice. Her hands were splayed across his own thick thighs, she squeezed her digits around the muscles in reassurance. He didn’t need to say anything more. The picture was painted.
“She was nine years old.” Joel whispered into the hand that was still hiding his features, finding the courage to speak more about it once he felt her touch through the fabric of his pajama pants. “Nine years old, and she lost her life.”
And now everything was clear. It made sense why he was so scared for her life out there in the garden. He had experienced a loss like that before. A cruel twist of fate that took the life of his daughter. Right in his front yard.
“I wish every day that it was me instead of her.” He admitted, more sobs wracking through his body, large shoulders shaking.
It was peculiar to see him like this. Usually he was such a vision of strength, but now that these emotions were presented to Y/N, everything made so much more sense. He was hiding himself. Scared of more loss, if he opened his heart up to anyone else. This was only more confirmed as he continued.
“My wife— My first wife, she couldn't handle the loss of our daughter.” Joel relayed, “I don’t think she was happy with me. Not until Sarah was born. And once she was gone… She didn’t have a reason to stay…”
His words died in the air after that. But yet again there was no need to continue. Y/N understood. And all she could do was shift her hands so that her arms were now wrapped around his neck. She pulled Joel in as close as she could, her waist now fitted between his thighs. He clutched onto her in return, fingers gripping into her nightgown. His head resting in the crook of her neck, mouth pressed against the tendon. 
“I won’t leave you.” Y/N whispered into his hair, still damp from the recent shower. 
She wasn’t exactly sure what brought her to say those words, but once they were hanging in the air she knew them to be true. And she knew he did too once she felt his lips form into a distinguishable kiss against her skin. It was faint, but the spark of it lingered, and it changed everything.
~
A few months had passed since the night of the storm and a lot had changed for the woman, at least inwardly. But their routine? It was all the same. They would make dinner, share in their comfortable silence (sometimes punctuated with lighthearted conversation) and then they’d return to their separate bedrooms. Every. Single. Night. Nothing more, nothing less.
It was a bit frustrating to say the least. 
And then he would leave every few weeks, on a venture out at sea. Where he would be gone for days at a time. And of course, she would miss him terribly. But would Y/N accompany him to the docks whenever he would leave? No. Would she ever be there to greet him home? Also no.
So it was safe to say that the blame was partially on her. Which frustrated the woman even further, because now she couldn’t even rely on the fact that the indifference was all one sided. Her actions apparently proved otherwise.
But what was it that she wanted to change? Maybe she expected their conversations to be much lengthier now that they had crossed the boundaries of hidden grievances. Or maybe she expected him to extend an invitation to sleep in his bedroom, now that they had participated in small instances of physical touch. Whatever it was, Y/N only knew one thing.
It had seemed they were still stuck at square one.
And with every one step forward there were three steps back. Not so long ago they were so close, lips against skin in the quiet of their living room. Safe in each other's arms as the storm raged on. But now? There was nothing. 
She resented the fact that she was falling into the wants and desires of the common Ardorian townsman. It all seemed very mundane against the aspirations she held close to her heart before she was married. But as she stewed in these feelings— especially during the times that Joel was away— she wondered if these desires were just part of the human experience. Perhaps they were even the desires that came with the burning passionate love she yearned for…
Now that she knew what it felt like. It all seemed so natural. You meet the one who befuddles your heart and soul and all you want is… more, more, more.
Would she ever get what she was hoping for?
Maybe she could, if she was brave enough. 
The opportunity presented itself the eve of Joel’s next expedition. 
He had gotten home early that day, so he was around to help finish up dinner. Y/N remembered being unable to look away as his large hands sliced each potato that needed to be added to the pot. He was attentive with his actions, just as he always was. She was jealous of the knife that resided gently in his grasp. Heat burned under her cheeks at her desperation.
Of course every detail of her wants and needs went unnoticed by Joel. Everything about their usual marital customs went off without a hitch, why should he think anything different could happen?
They ate their meal in silence. They cleaned up after themselves, as always. And then they slowly made their way up the stairs, just like they did every night. 
Joel stopped on the landing at the top. Y/N followed his actions. This wasn’t unusual, the same thing happened on every eve of his long departures. He stood, towering above her, she looked up at him with hopeful eyes.
“I’ll be gone before you wake up.” He told her, his voice gruff. She nodded, once. Simple and to the point. Just like always.
Joel nodded back in confirmation and then turned to go, like a captain dismissing his subordinate. It was all very formal. Almost passionless, which was such a great contradiction to what the young woman was feeling inside of her chest. She was just about ready to burst. So even though she wasn’t exactly intending on doing so— she wasn’t surprised when her hand shot out to clasp her fingers around his wrist, stopping him before he disappeared into the secret confines of his bedroom. 
“You okay?” Joel asked, once he was facing her again. His eyebrows were furrowed in concern, but that wasn’t the way she wanted him to look at her. She shook her head, but it wasn’t an answer to his question. It was more like she was trying to tell him that that was the wrong thing to ask. Or rather, the wrong thing to do. 
“What’s wrong?” He inquired. 
As it turned out, Joel was not a mind-reader. And since Y/N was too afraid to speak out loud about any of her desires, she did the next thing she could think of. 
Her hands moved to grasp firmly against the lapels of his flannel. The floorboards beneath her creaked as she shifted onto her toes. She pulled Joel closer— closer than he’s ever been. She squeezed her eyes shut— almost like she was terrified when really this was all she wanted— and then before either of them knew it, she slotted her mouth against his own in a fervid kiss.
Joel stilled under the soft touch of her lips, surprised by the action, heart thrumming in his chest as he wondered if this was real. But the hesitation only lasted a split second before he reciprocated her kiss, leaning into her. The eagerness of which had caused their bodies to shift so that Y/N’s back was against the wall. She gasped against his lips, the grip on his shirt loosening.
He pulled away, but only slightly. His nose brushed against hers as he searched her eyes for any protests. He only found her pupils blown out with lust, paired with an indiscernible nod, a concession to keep going. 
In an instant, his large hands were now cupping her face, calluses rough on her skin but she didn’t mind— in fact she relished in it. Her fingers twisted into his shirt once again as he traced her bottom lip with his tongue, pulling another soft gasp from her. He used that to his advantage, slipping his tongue against hers. She whimpered at the taste of him, earning a groan that rumbled deep in Joel’s chest, each of her sweet sounds causing an involuntary twitch from behind the zipper of his pants. 
Joel was becoming more eager, selfish for more of that saccharine sound, his hands started to inch downwards. Smoothing over the curve of her neck, following the path of her shoulders, trailing down her arms, until his hands rested near the small of her back. He pulled her in closer, away from the wall. His fingers clutched onto the fabric of her dress. In a haze, he gathered more and more of the cotton within his hands, unknowingly exposing Y/N’s skin as he did.
She shivered as the back of her thighs met the frigid air, and soon almost the curve of her ass. It brought more attention to the heat that was pooling between her legs— A more intense version of a feeling that she’s only felt a few times before. It was harsh and greedy and it only grew stronger as Joel detached himself from her lips.
A whine spilled over her tongue at the loss, but all was forgiven when he began to press ardent kisses to the skin of her neck. She arched her back into his large frame, bringing notice to her nipples pebbling under the lace of her bra, another moan escaped her lips. He returned the noise with his own grunt of pleasure as his beard scratched against her supple skin. Suddenly she was aware of every single part of him. 
His lips sucking softly at the skin just below her jawline. His flannel-clad chest was strong and solid underneath her hands, heartbeat pulsing into her palms. His own larger hands pulled her closer between every groan that vibrated through his throat. And then there was the hard heat of him pressed against her lower stomach.
The sign of his arousal had caused an ache so deep within her core that it shocked her. It was new and exciting, but it was overwhelming and it made her afraid of the strength that her desires possessed. The burn of shame licked white hot against her skin. 
Joel— unaware of her inner turmoil as his lips kissed against the tendons in her neck— was given quite a shock when her hands pushed him away with surprising strength. He stumbled backwards, back hitting the other wall of the hallway. His eyes were wide and fearful that he did something wrong. Cheeks splotched a pretty color of pink and his lips swollen from her kiss.
Y/N covered her face with her hands, embarrassment and immense arousal caused her shoulders to tremble.
“I’m sorry.” She squeaked between her fingers, “Um, Thank you for… that, but I should…”
She backed away as she spoke, her sentence unfinished as she quickly escaped through the door to her bedroom. It slammed shut, abrasive in the action itself. 
Joel stood with his back flush against the wall and a harsh strain against his zipper as he stared dumbfounded at the wood of her closed door.
~
Her humiliation kept her within the boundaries of her room the entire morning that next day, refusing to step even one foot out into the rest of the house until she knew Joel was gone. The sounds of his footsteps came and went just like they did every time he left for the docks. But Y/N’s dread seemed to have projected itself into the way time moved.
It felt like ages before he was actually gone, almost to the point where it felt like he was dragging his feet, hesitating to go. Like he was waiting for something to happen.
But that couldn’t have been the case, because Joel had his morning routine down to an art. So Y/N was convinced it was her own hallucination that caused time to move at such a snail’s pace.
Once the sound of the front door swinging shut rattled the foundation of their home, Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. Just his very presence within this house— even separated by walls and other rooms— had such a strong effect on her that she couldn’t let herself recount the events of last night until she was certain she was completely alone. 
And once those images returned to the forefront of her mind, she immediately pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. 
Though that only made the memory of it stronger through the stars that burst behind her eyelids from the hard press of her hands. A frustrated whine escaped her lips as she squirmed in her sheets. The movement of it caused her to take notice of the slick pooling in her panties, ever present since the first touch of Joel’s lips.  
She rubbed her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the ache (though of course her efforts fell flat). 
How was this at all possible? How was Joel able to pull such aggressive lust from just one single heated interaction? 
Maybe it was because no one had ever touched her like that before.
The awkward, clumsy kisses she had shared with others in the past couldn’t hold a candle to what Joel had done to her. Forgotten was the memory of her very first kiss, which was frail and timid like a wounded bird. Or those later in life which were nice and gentle, but nothing special. Those moments of her past were now replaced by a roaring beast of want and desire. Joel had made her feel like the world had shifted on its axis, that he shifted it himself with his own two calloused hands. Just for her. And that was only with the touch of his lips. What else was he capable of doing? 
The sheets rustled under Y/N’s weight as she quickly sat up in bed, regret stirring deep in her belly. She just realized— what with the way she reacted last night— she may never be able to find out. It was such a monumental milestone for their steady forming relationship and she had ended it by pushing him away and leaving him behind in the dark shadows of the hallway. She hadn’t even spared a glance in his direction, his reaction to her abrupt dismissal will remain forever unknown.
Or at least until he returns home.
But that wouldn’t be for another three days. Sure, luck was on the girls side since it was on the shorter side of his usual expeditions. But seventy-two hours left a lot of room for her overactive imagination to run rampant. 
And she was now stewing on the outlandish conclusion that based on her reaction Joel would never want to touch her again. The frustration of that notion followed her throughout her morning.
It prickled at her skin as she stood in the shower, the hot water not doing enough to wash it away. Her skin was practically rubbed raw by the time she stepped out into the steamy bathroom, her hopes to scrub away her humiliation going down the drain, along with the lavender scented soap bubbles. 
It caused her hands to shake, as she tugged the soft green fabric of her favorite dress over her head, the skirt of it swirling around her ankles as it fell into place. Y/N had thought if she wore her favorite clothing item that she might feel better about the whole situation.
But it didn’t help.
In fact, none of the aspects of her usual morning routine had helped her calm her beating heart, or her racing mind, or even the arousal between her legs— that, yes, was still there despite her forcing away any reminder of how it felt to have Joel’s lips on her skin.
She now stood at the kitchen counter, her eyes clenched shut as she begged her brain to conjure up any other image. But that just brought up a confusing mixture of childhood memories intertwined with the heavy sound of Joel’s breathing in her ear. Which made her feel shameful as she felt so much more different than the young restless girl she was back then. Was this the loss of her innocence? She supposed it was.
But then again, she was married to Joel. And these feelings were quite expected for a wife to feel towards her husband. There was no reason for her to feel ashamed by these thoughts, especially if they seemed reciprocated— brought forth by the evidence she felt last night pressing against her stomach.
The reminder brought heat up to her cheeks and that very same ache deep in her core when she had first felt it. 
Y/N breathed in the air around her, dragging it into her lungs, pushing it out in a heavy wistful sigh. A flash of Joel’s hands flitted across her mind. Goosebumps littered her skin as she recalled the way his fingertips felt on the skin between her neck and shoulder. 
Subconsciously she brought her own fingers to that very same spot. Tilting her head, she dragged her fingernails over her skin in slow circles, causing shivers to run up and down the length of her spine. She imagined how Joel’s hand was soon replaced by the soft touch of his lips, and her hand moved to her collarbone, a place she wished he had discovered with his tongue. Another sigh left her lips as her imagination replaced her hand with Joel’s. Her eyes were closed again, softer this time as she conjured up the fantasy.
Lips against skin. Hands wandering. Breathing heavy.
Though the tantalizing image soon vanished into the air like a bubble popping, when the sound of the front door slamming shut rang out through the tiny house. A gasp slipped from between her lips as she whipped around towards the intrusion. Her palm flush against her chest to calm her beating heart.
The sight of Joel standing in the doorway knocked the air out of Y/N’s lungs. It was as if her improper thoughts had manifested him to be standing right there in front of her. The curls of his hair were askew, as if he had been running his fingers through it, over and over. His large chest was heaving with slow heavy breaths, the same way her own chest was moving. 
He swallowed, the adam's apple in his throat bobbing. He shook his head slightly, his brows furrowed, and then he looked back towards the door he just walked through. As if he hadn’t realized where he came from or what he was doing.
“Joel?” She questioned, her tone was breathless, desperate for something to fill the silence and tension that was slowly forming between them.
“’m sorry.” He breathed, when he turned back to her, his eyes shining with something that Y/N couldn’t quite place. Was it surprise? Curiosity? “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”
“What are you doing here?” She asked, somehow feeling brave enough to take a step forward. “I thought you were leaving on your trip?”
“I was— or I am.” He stumbled through the words. “It just got delayed for a couple hours. There were some last minute repairs needed on the ship…”
“And you had enough time to come back?” She questioned.
Joel paused, swallowing again. His eyes scaled over Y/N, taking in the look that resided behind her irises, the way she was breathing heavily, and how that green dress caressed her curves. She looked like she had just been caught in the act of something inappropriate, despite her just standing in the kitchen. An endeavor that was innocent in and of itself. But— god— the look of her, standing there in the golden light streaming in from the window above the sink, she looked downright sinful. Or maybe that was his own lust taking control and projecting itself onto her.
A lust that had kept him on edge this entire morning. Throughout the night too, when he was restless in his bed— remembering what happened between them— tossing and turning like the ocean tide. It never relented, so much so that when Tommy told him they had a few extra hours, Joel’s feet were already moving back towards his truck so that he could spend that time with Y/N. In this house. And even though he told himself to behave when he walked through the front door, It persisted. Even now as he stood in front of her, taking in the sight of her blown out pupils, eyes darkened with what he hoped was that very same lust. 
“I forgot somethin’” He then said, as he realized she was still expecting an answer. “Had to come back to get it.”
“Oh… alright.” She replied, blinking as if she were just pulled from a trance. “What was it? I can help you look for it.”
Joel shook his head, deliberately this time. He took a step forward, the tension growing thicker as he did. His brown eyes held her stare. “I know where it is.”
His words were soft as they rolled off his tongue, causing an involuntary shiver to forge its way through Y/N’s bones. It was much more forceful than what she had felt under her own touch, only a few minutes prior. Joel must have taken notice of the effect that his voice had over her body, as he dragged in a low shuddering breath.
He took another step forward. And then another. And another, until he joined her in the kitchen, standing right in front of her, their chests only centimeters apart. Y/N had to tilt her head up to be able to look him in the eye. Which she was shocked she was brave enough to do, considering how he looked like he wanted to devour her.
“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes flicking down to his mouth as Joel dragged his tongue over his bottom lip. The sight of it was magnetic, pulling her in so that her chest was now brushing against his with every breath. 
“Tell me to stop.” He said, his voice in that same hushed tone. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Y/N, defiant in her own nature, replied. “What was it that you forgot?”
“I didn’t forget anythin’.” Joel told her, honestly, his fingers moving to pinch at a piece of her flowing skirt. As if the small action would keep her right there in front of him. Where he was desperate to have her. Hoping that it would keep her in place instead of having her running away like last time. 
“It’s more like…” He continued, tilting his head down so that his forehead rested against hers. She gasped at the skin contact, relief flooding her form as she quickly realized his touch wasn’t lost to her like she had feared. “Somethin’ I regret not doin’.”
“And what do you regret, Mr. Miller?” She murmured, her eyes averted to the floor beneath their feet. The surname fell out of her mouth unexpectedly, as if garnering his respect would grant her the knowledge of his secret.
“Well, Mrs. Miller…” The reminder that she shared that very surname with him by holy matrimony caused a jolt of surprise to coarse through her veins. But it was replaced with satisfaction soon enough. She marveled at the fact that she wasn’t exactly bothered by the concept, in fact she almost relished in it. And then Joel said his next words.
 “I can show you exactly what that is… if you’ll let me.”
She didn’t have it in her to speak. Any reply that she could’ve had was lost in the back of her throat. All she could do was to nod eagerly, any shame she could’ve had at her desperation was tossed out the window.
“I need you to use your words.” Joel said in response to her movements, his voice hoarse as if he were holding himself back and the action of doing so was terribly difficult. 
“I— Yes… please, Joel.” She whispered, her breath fanning across his cheeks. “I want you to show me.”
This time, Joel was the first to bring their lips together in a zealous kiss. The green fabric that resided between his forefinger and thumb was soon shifted to be gripped by his hands as he pulled her in. Their bodies were now flushed together. The softness of her breasts pushing into the solid form of his chest. Simultaneous sighs of relief intermingled on their tongues when they finally let themselves melt into one another.
Y/N gasped into his mouth when his teeth nipped at the plush skin of her bottom lip. She had already known how brash he was with his movements from their kiss last night, but now it seemed as if all of his inhibitions were lost to him, his hands now smoothing over the curve of her ass. Joel’s fingers gripped at the supple flesh through her dress, pulling her waist into his own. 
She moaned at his touch, as well as the sign of his arousal digging into her hip. Her arms shifted to wrap around his broad shoulders, her fingers digging into the muscles on his back, urging him to move closer, if that were even possible. 
And in this instance, she wasn’t disappointed by the loss of his lips, because he was quick to replace them somewhere else on her skin. It was as if he had to kiss every inch of her before he moved on to undiscovered territory. Joel’s lips were kissing at the corners of her lips, and the apples of her cheeks before he moved down to her jawline. 
Though this was where he became more selfish in his actions, nipping at the skin so he could hear the sweet little whimpers that would waver from between her lips. Then he would lick over the bruised skin, soothing her of the slight pain he might’ve caused, heart hammering at the soft sighs of satisfaction she gifted him. Joel groaned at the sounds she made, relishing in the glory of every moan, whine and sigh. He could feel as he grew harder against the strain of his pants, the pain of it almost too much to bear. But this wasn’t about him. Instead, it had everything to do with the woman arching into his lips.
Thick fingers curled around the square neckline of Y/N’s lovely dress, knuckles brushing against her sternum as he tugged down at the fabric. A sharp gasp rang out into the air as her sleeves slid down her arms, allowing the exposure of her nipples to cold morning air, already hardened by her arousal to the man committing these actions. The flesh of her breasts bouncing slightly from the momentum in which he moved. 
Joel pulled his mouth away from her, eager to get a look.
Y/N could feel herself flush under his stare, suddenly shy as he drank in this new image of her. She wanted to look away and hide in her self-consciousness, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of his dilated pupils and the endearing shade of pink that tinted his cheekbones. A burning need was flashing across his brown irises, the sight of it sparking an odd sense of confidence in the woman. She straightened her shoulders, letting him look at her. Because he would be the only man who would ever get to see her like this. 
He groaned again, at the sight of her perked nipples paired with her newfound boldness.
“S’ pretty.” He mumbled, smoothing a large hand up over her breast, he could feel the pebbled skin pricking into his rough palm. She hummed at the compliment as well as his touch. Though a second later it was replaced with a harsh ‘ah’— pulled from her lips when his hand shifted so that he could pinch at her nipple. 
It was the most torturous form of pleasure she had ever felt in her life. That was until he guided her body until she could feel the kitchen table digging into her lower back. His free hand gripped at the flesh under her ass, lifting her up and making it so that she was now sat against the surface. With her now stationary on the table, he was able to bend over, lips finding purchase on the nipple that wasn’t trapped between his fingers.
A high pitched moan was ripped from her throat as she subconsciously spread her legs, Joel’s hips fitting perfectly in the space between her thighs. Her hand splayed out on the wood behind her as she arched into his tongue that was now currently swirling lazy circles around the sensitive bud. And though she had never done anything like this before, her hips started to move in the only way that seemed natural. The only way that seemed to relieve the ache that pulsed between her legs.
Y/N rolled her hips up into Joel, the hardness of him firm against her clothed center, soaked from her constant arousal since their first kiss. She wondered if she would make a mess of the pants he was wearing, but the thought was fleeting once Joel pulled away from her skin.
“Fuck.” He stammered, resting his forehead in the valley of her breasts, his brown curls tickling her skin.  “D-don’t do that, darlin’.” 
Y/N stilled. “Why? Did I hurt you?”
He laughed breathlessly, the air of it fanning over Y/N’s chest. “No, nothing like that… Just feels t’ good.”
“Oh.” She said, a bit bashfully, but a small smile tugged at her kiss-bruised lips. Pride started to swell deep in her stomach at the admission that she made him feel just as good. And that idea was too precious to pass up on. “Then maybe I should keep doing that.”
She grinded her hips against him again, forcing him to remove himself from her chest, sucking in a harsh breath. His hand shot out, gripping onto the supple flesh of her inner thigh, now exposed as the skirt of her dress had shifted during their hectic movements. 
“Please, sweetheart.” Joel begged, his nails digging into her leg. “You gotta stop.”
“But I wanna make you feel good.” She pouted, hips stilled by the brace he instilled upon her. Joel released a shaky breath, moving his forehead to rest on Y/N’s once more. His gaze was averted to the green fabric bunched up under her breasts, his brown eyes lost to her.
“You have no idea how much I want that— how long I’ve wanted that.” He murmured. “But I came back here for a reason.”
His voice sounded more determined by the end of his sentence. In doing so, it made the woman’s tone that much smaller, but she was still quite the contrarian to his words.
“I thought this was the reason.” She countered, sliding her hand up behind his neck, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his hairline. This time it was him shivering under her touch.
A soft smile curled upon Joel’s lips, he shook his head against her forehead, in slight laughter. “No. It’s close to what I was picturin’... but not quite.”
“Then what were you picturing?” She asked.
Joel leaned back, finally gracing her with the sight of his eyes, He didn’t answer her question, only holding an excruciating form of eye contact with the woman. And then, the once rough fingers that had tugged at her clothing and groped at her flesh were now trailing soft patterns into the skin of her thigh. Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat as they started to move closer to the spot between her legs. The ache she felt for him was now burning with great white heat.
Her own hands were gripping in their respective areas, meaning one was tugging at Joel's hair, pulling satisfied groans from his lips, while the other was locked around the edge of the table. Her hips jutted forward by their own accord when his fingertips skirted around the edge of her panties.
“Joel.” She whined, frustrated by his featherlight touch, though strangely enough also reveling in his gentle caress. 
“I know.” He whispered, dropping his head onto her shoulder. “I know… I’ll give you what you want— just let me…”
He splayed his large hand onto her thigh, pushing against it so that she’d spread out wider for him. There was no resistance from her, only eager relinquishment. There was a harsh twitch of his cock at the thought that she would let him do anything with her, along with the idea that her body was all his for the taking. A covet he never thought would come into fruition. 
“Please, Joel.” She urged again, and Joel realized right then that he was just as much hers as she was his. He would do anything for her. His body ached to give her exactly what she wanted. 
So he did.
Y/N gasped when his thumb pressed firmly against the darkened spot on her panties, a similar gasp falling from Joel’s lips when he finally learned how wet she truly was. And it was all for him. 
He moved his digit at an agonizing pace, moving in slow circles around the most sensitive part of her, not even sparing a fleeting touch to the bud of nerves. The torture of it all was exquisite. Y/N’s head fell backwards as she moaned, the tendons of her neck stretched out in front of Joel, the sight of it too enticing for his own good. He leaned forward, touching his lips against her skin. 
Now having to focus on two things at once, his movements against her core became sloppy, and his touch harshened, slipping over Y/N’s clit. An embarrassing squeal forced its way from her throat as she jutted her hips fiercely into Joel’s thumb. He grinned against her skin.
“Oh, you liked that, didn't you?” He chuckled, placing more kisses down her neck, his beard scratching her skin as he moved. Y/N had a response to his teasing tone, perhaps it was even quick-witted, but it was stolen from her lips and replaced with another desperate moan when his tongue swirled around her nipple.
It was all becoming too much with every tiny ministration he committed on her skin. She felt as though she could burst into flames. Little did she know that it would all come to a head when Joel would kiss his way down her body, heavy knees dropping to the floor. There was no patience left within him when he practically ripped Y/N’s panties off of her body, hands roughly pushing her thighs apart.
“J-Joel, what are you doing?” She questioned, forearms braced against the table, being pushed back further up the furniture as Joel started nipping at her inner thigh, goosebumps following in his wake
“‘m doin’ what I came here for.” He mumbled into her skin, teeth grazing the malleable flesh. She was about to ask exactly what that might be, but the question was answered when he licked a long stripe through her slick folds.
Curses tumbled out of Y/N’s lips as he used his mouth on her. Never in a million years would she imagine that he would do something so… obscene. And she never would have anticipated how much she loved it. Her eyes were wide as she marveled at the sight of him. His brown eyes were staring back up at her from over her mound, drinking in every little reaction he spurred from her. His hair was wild, the look of it brought on by Y/N’s fingers as she ran them through the tendrils, forcing him closer and closer. And then there were the noises of him slurping and groaning and relishing in the taste of her. 
At the beginning, Joel was slow with his actions, his tongue going up and down the length of her slit. Again he would frustratingly avoid touching her clit, tracing big circles around the bud, building up anticipation deep in Y/N’s stomach. But as he continued, every so often he would flick over it pulling more whimpers from Y/N’s throat. He would moan against her folds in satisfaction, the vocalizations causing slight vibrations to run through her entire form. 
Y/N’s head fell with a soft thump against the table, her back arching up into the air, squirming under Joel’s actions. A hand snaked up from Y/N’s thigh, placing itself on her sternum. His palm was rough against the skin between her bare breasts, holding her down and keeping her in place. 
Finally, seemingly deciding that the woman had been through enough torture, Joel wrapped his lips around her clit, sucking on it harshly. She all but screamed at this new sensation overcoming her, her right leg slipping over his left shoulder, unknowingly trapping him in place. They were locked in a heated tryst, his hand still braced on her chest, her calf pushing into his back and Joel’s mouth and tongue were still unrelenting. 
She couldn’t help but to twist her fingers into his hair, tugging him closer against her cunt, she grinded her hips into his face, any tribulations that she might be hurting him lost in her pleasure. But if only she knew how much Joel adored her desperate nature as she chased after her high on his tongue. In fact he had never been this hard in his life. He could feel himself dripping inside of his pants, making a mess of his boxers as precum spilled from his tip with every twitch of his cock. His hips were thrusting into the air beneath the table in his own desperation. The seam of his zipper was rubbing firmly against the length of him. Joel honestly would not be surprised if he ended up cumming without even having to touch himself.
And as it turned out, eventually he would.
Joel’s name was now falling freely from between Y/N’s lips in broken fragments. The movements of her hips were becoming clumsy, stuttering as Joel continued to lick at her clit, groaning everytime she pulled at his hair. The heat burning low in her stomach began to grow hotter and more incessant. And with one more deliberate move of Joel’s tongue against her clit, it all began to burst.
The sight of Y/N cumming was the prettiest thing Joel had ever seen. Her head was thrust back against the table, supple lips drawn open as more of her moans escaped into the air, along with the sound of his name. Her whole body was tensing and shaking as the waves of her orgasm washed over her body. Joel’s mouth was ruthless on her cunt, drinking anything she had to offer him as the proof of her orgasm splashed over his tongue. The sight of her, as well as the taste of her, was all too much to bear as his own hips involuntarily jutted into nothing, the confines of his pants working against him in a way that had him finishing. He shuddered at the sensation, his shoulders trembling as he could feel his own cum spill into the fabric of his underwear. He whimpered into Y/N’s cunt, breathing sharply out of his nose, still trying to coax her down from her own orgasm as her body became limp and her breathing heavy, until finally everything started to slow down. 
Searching hands groped around until they finally found purchase on Joel’s shoulders. She tugged at his shirt, forcing him away from her oversensitive core and out from between her legs. 
She was met with eyes blown out with lust and a fading orgasm, red lips parted in amazement and beard shining with her cum. His clothes were askew and his brown curls were all over the place. He looked completely out of it. Though she probably couldn’t say she was much better.
And Joel admired the image of it as he stood above her. She blinked up at him, leaning back on her elbows, a look of pure wonderment painting her features. Her green dress was bunched around her middle, nipples still perked in the cool air of the kitchen, her chest stuttering with every breath. He smiled softly at her, leaning to snake a hand around her waist, pulling her up into a sitting position, her hands instinctively looping around his broad shoulders.
“You alright?” He asked gently as he stood her on shaking legs, the skirt of her dress now falling back in place. She shivered when she felt the touch of his knuckles on her chest once again as he shifted the top of her dress back in its proper position.
“I—  um… yeah.” She said breathlessly, words lost to her in her post-orgasmic state. Joel couldn’t help but grin at her flustered demeanor, bringing a hand up to her cheek. She was grateful for his touch, leaning into his hand as he caressed her cheekbone with his thumb. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her lips causing Y/N to taste herself upon his skin.
“Did you… get what you were looking for?” Y/N questioned, once they pulled apart. Earning soft laughter deep from within Joel’s chest. The sound of it quirking up the corners of Y/N’s lips in a shy smile, pride swelling in her belly since she was the one who caused it.
“That I did, sweetheart.” He smiled, running a hand over her hair, his eyes sparking with contentment. Her shy smile morphed into that of a bright grin, pulling him back in towards her to share a deeper kiss. He groaned into her lips, unexpected for the both of them as another surge of lust sparked between them, seemingly unsatisfied by what they had just finished. She whimpered back into his mouth as tongues started probing and teeth nipping once again. At a particularly boisterous moan from Y/N, Joel had to pull away. 
“W-wait.” He breathed, “I— We can’t, we don’t have time. I have to go back.”
Y/N deflated at his words, but ultimately nodded her head in understanding. She took a step back from him, needing the distance to quell her need to melt into him once more. Though Joel’s fingers quickly wrapped around her own, stopping her from moving away any further.
“You’ll still be here when I get back, yeah?” He asked, the question causing Y/N’s heart to drop down to her stomach. As she looked at him she found insecurities scrawled across his features. Maybe she hadn’t done enough to convince him that she wasn’t going anywhere. Or perhaps this was leftover from pain he endured in the past. She brought his hand up, brushing her lips across his knuckles in a sweet kiss, and then covered that spot with her free hand.
“I promise.” She whispered, her gaze locked on his searching eyes, flickering over her features, trying to find the truth. When he found nothing but her earnest smile he felt brave enough to go, but not before leaving her with one more breathless kiss. 
Y/N had watched silently as he got ready to leave, washing his face with the bar of hand soap left on the side of the kitchen sink. She didn’t say anything as he readjusted his clothes and threw his bag over his shoulder. And she didn’t beg him to stay when he finally placed that final kiss upon her lips. All she did was sink further and further into the throes of missing him, despite the fact that he was right in front of her.
It only grew stronger as he whispered more promises of continuing when he returned three days later. She held onto that promise, close to her chest like a dying flame, watching as the view of his truck disappeared over the horizon. 
She prayed to the gods above that time would fly quickly.
Though perhaps she should’ve been praying for something else entirely. 
Because later that night and hundreds of miles out from the shoreline, a little ship bobbed at sea. The workers on deck scrambled in preparation. Worry stiffened their brows. Prayers to Poseidon fell from their lips. A soft pattern of rain began to sprinkle over their heads, it was unassuming in its very nature. But that was just the first sign of the oncoming danger as they headed into the eye of the storm. 
Three days came and went.
Joel had yet to return home. 
Y/N knew that the life of a fisherman was dangerous and unpredictable, she had heard many stories, most of which when she was younger, whispered to her by her classmates as they relayed the most gory details from the sad news of a shipwreck. Some were overheard at the local pub, traumatic events recounted around a bottle of brandy as fishermen tried to top each other's stories.
Frankly, these stories hardly bothered the young woman like it did to others in town. She couldn’t indulge in the disturbance of it all because the way these stories were told, relayed like an unattainable fairytale. It was all folklore in her mind. She was certain that nothing like that could ever affect any aspect of her life.
She was eating her words now. 
It was on the sixth day that Joel was gone when she heard that it was a storm that delayed their ship, knocking it off its course.
The information was brought to her front doorstep by her very own father, who in his old age made the trek across the island to do so. This left Y/N’s stomach unsettled, for he would never go to such great lengths unless something truly terrible had occurred. 
She was reminded of the day her mother died. He adorned the same face that painted his features now. Eyes downcasted, lower lip trembling, hands twisting around his patched cap. He was sitting on one of the wooden chairs strewn around the kitchen table. Y/N was leaned up against the counter, her arms wrapped tightly around herself.
“We didn’t get the message until early this morning. Radio was down, they barely got it  workin’ when they reached us...” He said quietly, to the toes of his boots.
“And?” Y/N urged, knowing her father had more to say.
“They lost a few men.” He said quickly, as if he couldn’t stand to have the words left on his tongue. Y/N sucked in a breath. She turned around, facing the window over the sink. She braced her palms on the counter, vision blurring as tears pricked the corner of her eyes.
“Did they say who?” She asked, words choked between her tightening vocal cords, constricting from her tears.
“No, couldn’t keep the signal for long enough.” He murmured, she could hear him stand, the legs of the chair squeaking against the tile. “But they did say they’ll be returning by this evening.”
Y/N whipped around at that, her features twisted in vexation. The lead buried so much deeper than it needed to be. She would have to keep her annoyance left unsaid, however, as now there was no time to waste. 
She brushed past her father hastily, ignoring the way her name was called after her as she staggered around the living room, clumsy in the way she tugged her boots over her feet. Her jacket was long forgotten on the hook by the door as she hurried outside, the thought of it only coming once the cool winds whipped at her exposed arms and cheeks. But she wouldn’t turn back for it. Her adrenaline kept her warm, anyways.
It was a two hour walk to get to the docks. Beads of sweat ran down her spine, blisters pinched at the heels of her feet, her breathing was labored as she pushed her anxiety out of her lungs. Though none of that mattered. All she knew was that she had to get to the docks. She had to get to him. If he was even there…
She swiped angrily at the tears that now carved pathways down the skin of her cheeks. Never in her life had she ever been able to keep her emotions at bay, she was always willing to scream at the sky and cry til her throat was raw. That fact was unchanging even as she grew older. So she let her tears fall. They didn’t distract from her current mission, anyhow. Her eyes were set on the small town that appeared over the horizon. 
The whole town congregated at the docks. Passersby stood on the cobblestone streets, their inherent nosiness ill-concealed by their feigned looks of concern. Whispers flitted between them as if this were all just a dramatized show to keep them entertained. Y/N let no apologies slip through her lips as she pushed her way through them, knocking into their shoulders and earning glares as she did. 
When her footsteps rang out on the wood of the dock that's when she was surrounded by the people like her. Family members worried for their loved ones lost at sea. They all stood silently as their eyes were set towards the ocean, hands clutched in prayer, whispering hopes that it wasn’t their spouse, parent or child who lost their life to an unrelenting sea. Y/N was too impatient to do the same. She just stood and waited for any kind of sign that Joel would be home soon.
It came only thirty minutes later. When a small boy at the front of the dock screeched in anticipation, pointing out a small dot wavering in the distance. Y/N’s stomach swooped down in a mixture of hope and apprehension. She was terrified to learn the truth of what happened.
But twenty minutes after that, the truth had arrived as the ship pulled in with the tide. Everyone advanced closer to where the fisherman would eventually unboard. Y/N stayed behind, her feet frozen to where she stood. Maybe she was trying to delay the inevitable. 
Relieved cries and overjoyed calling of names soon swirled into the evening air as loved ones were reunited. Warm embraces and fervent kisses were exchanged between them. But it was all backtracked by the ones who received news of a death, heartbreaking wails mixing in with the sound of reunion.
It was an unsettling cacophony of sounds. The way love and loss intertwined within one another. Two sides of the same coin. And Y/N still had yet to know which one she was on. 
Her hands were shaking. Her sight was restricted by the many heads that stood in front of her. She scanned each face, none of them holding the warm brown eyes she’s grown accustomed to. Her stomach sank deeper and deeper, her throat started to constrict again, a sob threatened to burst out from between her trembling lips.
She couldn’t hold it back once she registered a mess of brown and gray curls making its way through the crowd. The sob released itself, though not in anguish as she had thought, it was instead paired with the most intense form of relief she had ever known. Her feet started to move by their own accord.
His name fell desperately from her lips. 
Joel stilled once he heard the sound of it. Brown eyes wild as he searched frantically for where it was coming from. When they found her through a split in the crowd, Y/N was met with the same look of relief she knew was apparent within her own irises. 
His stride lengthened as he worked fast to cut the distance between them. As she drew nearer, he registered the tear stains on her supple skin, fresh ones following the same path. His heart lurched at the sight, the overwhelming need to hold her burning his skin. Burning hotter as she drew nearer. Setting him ablaze when she was right in front of him. 
He tossed his bag to the side in favor of wrapping his arms around her. He relished in the way she sank into his arms, curling into his chest. He felt how her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, beating in the same pattern as his own. Joel held onto her even tighter.
“You scared the hell out of me.” She cried, tone muffled by his cable knit sweater as she hid her face in his warmth. A large hand smoothed over the back of her head, bringing her in even closer if that was even possible. His nose dropped down into her hair, the scent of her invading his senses, comforting him. He was back home. Safe. And she was here waiting for him. 
“I know, baby, I’m sorry.” He murmured, the nickname falling freely in his solace. 
She didn’t seem to mind. 
They returned home just as the sun dipped below the horizon, losing the orange hues of the sunset to a dark velvet sky littered with stars. The journey was much easier on the way back now that they had Joel’s old truck that was waiting for him down by the docks. As well as the fact that the reassurance of Joel’s return replaced the heavy feeling of fear that had haunted Y/N for the past three days.
They were greeted by a homemade meal, left behind by Y/N’s father. A gift either of consolation or celebration. She was grateful it was the latter. 
And once their bellies were full and the pain of the day was washed away in soothing streams of hot water, the two of them stood in the hallway once again. Y/N was unsure of what to do. Less than a week ago they had crossed a boundary she hadn’t even dreamed of. Now they were standing at the precipice of something even greater. And since Joel was safe at home once again, the anticipation to act on it was dripping from the walls. 
Was she ready for such a feat? Was Joel expecting something like this to happen? Nerves brought a tremor to her hands. 
Meanwhile, Joel could feel the tips of his ears burning at the memory of what happened the last time they were alone together. Her moans had him weak in the knees, her skin was soft to the touch, things he only knew since Y/N had made the first move in this very hallway. A bolder woman than what stood in front of him now, as her eyes stayed glued to the floor, her breathing fragmented from timidity.
His gaze softened as he took in the sight of her.
“I don’t know what you’re expectin’ to happen...” He breathed, a soft smile turning up the corners of his mouth, “But I can assure you it’s not what you’re thinkin’...”
Y/N’s eyes flickered up at the teasing lilt to his words. She was met with a mischievous gleam in those brown eyes as he repeated the very first thing she ever said to him. She couldn’t help her own grin that bloomed across her lips. 
At her smile, he felt brave enough to bring a hand up to her cheek. 
“You have nothing to worry about, darlin’” He then murmured, stroking his thumb over the soft skin. She leaned in his touch, peering up at him through her lashes. “We don’t have to do anythin’.”
“I want to.” She whispered back, her words causing his breath to hitch in his throat. “Eventually… but tonight…”
He nodded, removing his touch from her face. “I understand.”
The floorboards creaked as he took a step back. But surprise shot up his spine when she moved to clutch his fallen hand with both of her own. 
“But tonight could you just lay with me?” She quickly added.
She looked up at him expectantly, the plush of her bottom lip dragged between her teeth. He let out a low labored breath.
“Y-yeah.” He nodded, the word weak on his tongue. He was afraid that if he spoke any louder he might scare her off. Though the grip of her fingers locked around his palm proved to him that she was there to stay. A reassurance he was always grateful for. 
Y/N tugged at his hand, urging him to follow as she guided their way into her bedroom. It was an odd choice, considering the master bedroom was just right there and the bed was bigger. But to be invited into her private sanctuary was an opportunity he would never pass on. So his feet followed eagerly.
It was dark in the room when they entered and it stayed that way as no one made a move to turn on the light. Unfortunately, what she had done to make the bedroom her own was lost to his eyes, but that regret was soon forgotten as he heard the squeak of mattress springs and the shuffling of blankets.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he found Y/N’s form on the bed in front of him, he stood on the side, basking in the glory of this moment. 
“Come here.” Her whisper found him through the dark. His stomach swooped at the sultry sound of her voice. But he ignored any provocative thoughts that wormed its way into his brain. Instead, he obeyed her command, the mattress dipping as he slid under the covers beside her.
In an instant, his senses were invaded by her scent as well as her warmth. There was only an inch or two of distance between them. Both lying on their backs, staring up at the ceiling, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.
A sharp intake of breath rang out from Joel when the touch of her fingertips smoothed over his open palm in the space between them. Naturally, his own digits curled around hers. He heard as she sighed happily from his reciprocation. 
And somehow— despite how fast his heartbeat was when he had her writhing under his tongue only a few days prior, it was nothing compared to the small gentle act of holding her hand.
~
Joel was up before the sun.
As was the case every morning, since his body's internal clock was intune with the demanding schedule his occupation thrusted upon him. So he was used to opening his eyes to a darkened world, not yet warmed by rays of sunlight.
Though today was slightly different. He wasn’t woken by the natural fluttering of his eyelids as his dreams from that night slipped away; Instead it was the press of another person’s form against his body, an arm draped over his torso, legs intertwined between his own, head resting on his chest.
He stiffened once he remembered where he was and who it was.
Y/N.
She was warm through the fabric of their pajamas. So much so that Joel didn’t even miss the warmth of the sun like he usually did during these dark and frigid mornings. A deep contented sigh pushed through the structure of his chest, Y/N’s head moving in time with his breathing. The movement elicited a small whine from her lips.
The sound had his heart racing yet again, reminding him of the other noises she was capable of making.
Those noises had been replaying over and over in Joel’s mind ever since he was blessed to hear them— even better, to create them with the touch of his own hands and lips. He brought the memory with him when he was on that small boat, miles out at sea, restless in his cot as he ached to return home to her. 
When they were caught in the throes of that storm all he could think about was her. The drive of it kept him alive throughout the chaos. 
Now here he was, sharing in her warmth, despite the awkward navigation of their newfound forms of intimacy. Anticipation surged through his muscles, pulling away the last dregs of sleep that had plagued his limbs. 
Joel cursed under his breath as something else began to stir to life. 
This was a young man's game. He was in over his head with the feelings she evoked from him. Never in his life had he experienced anything quite like this. The way every part of his body begged for every part of hers. Everything he’d felt for those before her was just a crude imitation of what he felt for her at this very moment. It was almost an insult to compare. Nothing could ever compare..
And he had no idea what he was supposed to do. 
Which was funny. Because this woman was his wife. She was the one person he should feel this for. But with the way they had started Joel wasn’t sure what he was allowed to take what he wanted. Was he allowed to be selfish the way he wanted to? Everything surrounding the two of them was delicate. And Joel was terrified of breaking it with his large and clumsy hands.  
For now he would just have to hold himself back. Be gentle in the way that he navigated this unknown territory. Which meant he had to do the hardest thing in the world. 
He had to get out of this bed. 
Slowly and cautiously he detangled his limbs from the woman beside him. He trained his eyes on her face, searching for any sign that his movements were waking her up. The line between her eyebrows showed itself when her cheek lost the firm foundation of his chest, but that— and a few incoherent mumbles— was all that occurred as he slipped himself out of her bed. Luckily, she seemed to be a sound sleeper as she curled up into herself without Joel’s warmth. 
Joel stood above her, almost caught in a trance from how disgruntled she looked now that he was gone, proof of the effect he had on her as well. A small smile danced on his lips. And then he allowed himself one indulgence as he leaned over to brush a faint kiss over her forehead. He felt her features smooth under his lips, seemingly content with his departing gift.
~
To wake up alone in a cold empty bed was not what Y/N had expected that morning. There were a few instances during the night, when her dreams took a pause that she would wake up, eyes blinking in the dark. And she quickly grew accustomed to the strong presence that Joel was. The soft steady sound of his snores was a comfort to the girl’s ears as they rumbled through his chest. At some point in the night his strong arms had encircled around her waist, pulling her into his warmth.
That very same warmth, having been taken away from her, was now sorely missed. She stretched an arm out over the expanse of her bed, fingers groping at where Joel once lay. 
She supposed she should’ve expected to wake up like this, considering how early he left every morning. But she would have thought she would’ve woken up when the time came. At least long enough to spare a goodbye before he headed off to work. 
Disappointment sat heavy over her form like a stormy rain cloud. Y/N tried not to dwell on it, but as always her feelings were too strong to contain, so throughout the whole rest of the day she moved about the house wistful in demeanor. Yearning for Joel despite the fact he would be home in a few hours time. 
Was this usually how it happened when you start to feel this way towards someone? Like your whole world stops turning when they aren’t near? Whatever the case, she knew that these feelings were not to be taken lightly. There was a rarity to them that made her heart much more precious to the woman. She felt like she needed to keep it safe, deep in her pocket where no harm would find it, and no one would be able to see the extremities of her feelings.
And that’s where she kept it as her restless feet wandered into town. 
But as she walked, something funny happened. Everywhere she looked, everything seemed so much brighter. The people who passed her by greeted her with warm ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’. Kids were laughing as they played in the street, laughing. There were lovers in front of shops holding hands and exchanging stolen kisses. Birds were singing. The sun was… shining? Everything that used to be dreary about the island, everything that Y/N hated, had somehow flipped to be the exact opposite of what it used to be. Or perhaps… it had always been like this and she just hadn’t noticed, too caught up in her own pretension and desperate need to escape. 
Perhaps this island really did live up to its name.
Why was it that she had just noticed this now? What had changed?
She thought of her beating heart, hidden in her deepest pocket. And then froze in her tracks. 
She was reminded of something. Something she had only heard in the old sea-shanties her father used to sing while he cooked. In the stories her mother used to whisper to her at bedtime. And that used to worm her way into her dreams late at night, planting the idea that she had to escape in the first place. She had to go find it. 
It was love.
And it hit her like a ton of bricks. 
Well, not the love part, that made sense to her as the loose ends were finally tied together. What surprised her the most was that she didn’t have to travel to the furthest reaches of the earth to find it. It had been on this very island the whole entire time. And it was fated to be shared with the man she was hell-bent against marrying. 
Incredulous laughter began to bubble out of her throat. So much so that she had to brace herself on her knees as she gasped for air. She was definitely living up to her reputation as the crazy woman, earning strange glances from passersby. But she didn’t care. She never cared. All she really cared about was burning passionate love, that’s what she had been yearning for all her life. And she was almost too stupid to realize that it was right under her nose.
Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong! Gong!
The clocktower in town was chiming at the start of the new hour. Five o’clock… It pulled Y/N out of her unexpected fit of laughter. Joel would be on his way home right at this very moment. And without thinking twice, the woman began to run.
~
Joel returned to an empty house. This wasn’t entirely unusual, as there were some days Y/N would be out in the garden, lounging on the porch swing she loved oh-so much, having lost track of time. He would always find her, caught in the middle of a fascinating passage, one she couldn’t tear her eyes from. The idea of dinner would not have crossed her mind, as it was often lost in the clouds.
He never minded that, though. In fact, he quite liked finding her like that because then it meant that he would get the chance to be by her side while they made their meal together. And he also couldn’t lie about the fact that he enjoyed seeing the image of her, so carefree, with her knees tucked beneath her, skin glowing underneath the evening sun. He would always take a moment to stop and watch her, drinking in the sight of her peace before having to force her out of it.
A small smile spread across his lips at the thought he’d catch her like that now. His heavy footfalls rang out into the quiet household as he crossed the floor towards the back door. His anticipation flickered deep in his stomach once more, excited to see her.
But he was left in disappointment and slight worry when he was greeted with the sight of an empty porch swing. It looked so much sadder without her presence, the loss of her making obvious the peeling white paint and rusted chains that made the furniture what it was. Lackluster without her. A feeling now all too familiar to Joel as he searched the rest of the house, finding empty room after empty room.
He had seen this before. Lived through it. Deja vu in the form of his ex wife whittled its way into his brain. He recalled the day he found her missing. How he felt when he realized she wasn’t coming back. This was so much worse. Because now it was Y/N.
The woman he had unexpectedly fallen for, head over heels. The woman who promised him she wouldn’t do the same and that she would stay right here with him in this house.
It must’ve been too much to ask for. Joel must have wanted too much. Taken too much. She must have come to her senses and realized the potential she was wasting in a marriage with an old man like him. Dread was quick to overtake him, he knew that much. But he had never been a lucky man. Everything he ever loved was always lost to him. Why would anything change now?
Joel found himself sitting on the front step of his porch, head clutched in his hands. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was that brought him out there. Maybe he needed the fresh air to rid the panic in his lungs. Or maybe it was that flicker of hope that still burned within his heart. Maybe she would return home to him. If his hopes weren’t for nothing.
“Joel?”
His head snapped up to find Y/N standing in front of him. She was out of breath, a sheen of sweat covering her skin, causing her to glow brighter than she usually did. Her irises sparked with worry as she took in the sight of his hunched form on the porch. Though once he registered that she was really there, standing in front of him, he shot to his feet.
“Y/N.” He replied, his voice riddled with a confusing tone of surprised awe, eyes thick with relief. The girl’s brows furrowed. He took the remaining two steps down to where she stood, his hands bracing themselves on her shoulders.
“Where were you?” He questioned, somewhat angrily, though through that she could see a form of desperation hiding behind it all.
“I’m sorry I was— I just came from town.” She answered, having not yet fully caught her breath, the words were hushed between her overworked lungs. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He practically begged out the question. “I could’ve brought you home.”
“I’m sorry.” She said earnestly, wrapping her fingers around his wrists. “I didn’t think of it. I was in a hurry to get back.”
“Why?” 
She looked down at the ground between their feet, the distance between them small, soon to become even smaller, she was sure. A bashful smile crept up onto her lips. 
“I wanted to see you.” She murmured, eyes still averted as a slight heat pinched at her cheeks. Somehow it was much harder to face him, now that she had put a name to what she had been feeling.
Surprise stiffened her shoulders when Joel let out a harsh breath of relief, his head dropping into the crook of her neck, arms looping around her waist. She soon softened under his embrace, her fingers tangling within his sea-breeze tangled hair. 
“I thought you left.” He mumbled into her skin. Y/N’s stomach dropped at the hidden fear behind his words. She now understood completely where this strange new demeanor was coming from. She quickly shook her head, knowing Joel felt as she did when her cheekbone brushed against his ear in time with the movement.
“No.” She whispered. “No, I would never.”
His hold on her tightened with the words spoken. Y/N smoothed her hand over the back of his head, hoping it brought some form of comfort to the man.  As his shoulders began to relax, she knew that it did. She continued her reassurance.
“I’m sorry.” Y/N tilted her head towards him, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I wasn’t thinking clearly. I should’ve come down to the docks.”
“Why didn’t you?” He asked, pulling back from his hiding spot, eyes searching for the answer. 
Y/N drew in a deep breath, the heat in her cheeks burning fiercer than before. She averted her gaze towards the gravel pathway, taking a step back so that possibly she could find her words within the created distance. Nerves, fairly quickly, took over her form.
“Well… to start, I think— pretty early on in our marriage you must have realized that I wasn’t exactly ecstatic about the whole ordeal.” She rambled as she began to pace, wild with her movements the way she was erratic with her words.
Joel opened his mouth to confirm, but she was speaking so fast that he never had the chance. So he watched on, almost incredulously, eyes following her as she paced back and forth in front of him, avoiding his gaze.
“I mean… I don’t think you were totally happy with it either, considering how we were at the beginning… —Anyways, none of that matters now.” Y/N waved her arms, trying to get rid of any more unnecessary words.
“The reason I was so unhappy— at first— was because I was so desperate to fall in love.” She continued, the last word ringing familiar in Joels ear. A smile perked up the corners of his mouth as realization dawned on him, patiently waiting for the girl to finish her rant.
“And I didn’t think an arranged marriage could have any possibility of that.” Y/N glanced quickly over at Joel, finding him nodding along in exaggerated understanding, strong arms crossed over his chest.
“But then a funny thing happened, when I was walking into town and I suddenly realized…” She stopped moving, facing the man head on as she said her peace. “I think I may be in love with you— No… I know that I’m in love with you.”
As he considered her— standing in front of him, with begging eyes and shaking hands— he bit back a brighter grin. With this onslaught of information he wasn’t exactly sure how he should say what he wanted to say. If the girl would even give him the chance to do so.
“And that’s why I didn’t meet you at the docks.” Y/N finished, quite lamely, hands raised out from her sides as if offering him the floor. Though, her arms flopped back down to their original position quickly after.
“So…” Joel started slowly, killing the woman with every second his pause dragged out. “You didn’t come to the docks… because you’re in love with me?”
“It would seem so.” She confirmed, her voice small with apprehension. “Do you have anything to say on the matter?”
“Just one thing.” He breathed, before taking a step forward, he looped an arm around her waist pulling her against him. A gasp fell from her lips at the eagerness in this action, her hands impulsively landing on his chest. Joel's other hand moved to rest on the side of her face, guiding her lips to slot against his in a deep-seated kiss. 
It was as if the entirety of her being were in her lips, like there was nothing else in the world as he pressed soft kisses to the plush skin. Kisses that somehow conveyed the entire range of how he felt towards her. The passion showed itself as he nipped at her bottom lip with his teeth. The tenderness shown in the gentle caress of his tongue. The love being presented as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers, it shining in the deep brown of his eyes.
“I love you too.” He confirmed what she saw within his irises, her heart swelling that she wasn’t on her own in feeling this way.
“I didn’t realize that’s what it was until I thought you were gone.” He told her, “I think I might’ve…”
His words trailed off, replaced with a deep breath as he pulled her in closer, as if making sure she was really there in his arms.
“I think I might’ve felt this way for a really long time.” He ended. Y/N smiled warmly up at him, tilting her head to brush her nose against his own.
“Me too.”
And neither one of them really knew exactly when that could have been. Perhaps it was the very first time they laid eyes on each other. Or during one of their many shared meals as they sat across from one another in comfortable silence. Or the distance that kept them apart by raging seas. Maybe it shifted with the constant storms that would rain down over their house. Or maybe it was written in the stars, destined to happen. Whatever the case, it didn’t really matter to them now as they melted back into each other, lips crashing in a great crescendo portraying exactly the burning passion this island was supposed to be known for. 
Their next movements were like a white blinding light as they forged through the front door of their home, shoes left behind,— the excitement that should’ve been present on their wedding night was now following them through the living room and up the creaky stairs. Y/N’s grip on Joel’s hand was strong as she pulled him down the hallway towards the master bedroom, but she still wasn’t strong enough to keep him moving when he stopped abruptly. She turned to face him.
“Wh—?” Her question was interrupted when he pressed her against the wall, his lips finding hers once more. A small squeak of surprise from the young woman was muffled by Joel’s kiss, swallowing it down. His hands were firm on her waist, fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt. Her skin was hot to the touch. 
“Joel.” She moaned against his lips, the touch of his thumb rubbing slow circles into her skin sending bolts of electricity straight to her toes.
His name sounding like that coming from her was enough to have Joel’s entire being on fire. He could feel himself harden with every moan she gifted him, as well as his resolve weakening, patience wearing thin. 
Shifting his grip, his hands were now clutching at the back of Y/N’s bare thighs (since she had miraculously had the good sense to wear shorts today). On instinct, using the leverage of Joel’s grasp, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. The momentum of their bodies coming together had Joel stumbling backwards, back hitting the other wall. The artwork hanging on aging nails rattled in their frames, threatening to crash to the floor as they shook from the collision. Neither husband or wife paid this any mind as they clutched onto each other, lips still vehemently attached, moans and grunts being traded within their kiss.
Soon, Joel’s feet were moving once again, carrying Y/N over the threshold of his bedroom. Like a man was supposed to do with his bride, finally given the chance to do so. Though his grip almost slackened when she pulled her lips away from his, replacing them on the skin below his ear. He cursed under his breath as she began to suckle against a sweet spot he never even knew existed. 
Against all odds, he made it to the bed, falling backwards against the plush surface, springs squeaking under their combined weight. Y/N was not at all deterred by this new position, her forearms bracing themselves on either side of Joel's head as she kissed her way down his neck, hoping she was even half as good as Joel was at this sort of thing. 
She supposed she wasn’t half bad as his breathing was soon labored under the touch of her lips, thick fingers twisting into the fabric of her shirt. She smiled against his skin, especially so when she finally lowered her hips down over his own, the sign of his enjoyment pressing harshly into her inner thigh. Y/N rolled her hips into him, hoping for that very same reaction she had gotten the first time she did this. With no surprise at all, she prevailed.
“Shit—.” He hissed, hands darting to grip at her hips. “Wait.” 
Somehow he was strong enough to still her movements. Or maybe Y/N couldn’t help but obey the words said by this man. In either case, time began to slow down, their frantic movements ceasing. Y/N pushed up on her hands, sitting back on her heels so that she could meet his gaze. Joel’s hands found their home on the skin of her thighs, thumbs instinctively rubbing those soothing circles once again.
He drew in a breath, staring up at her with soft brown eyes. “Have you ever done this before?”
A shy look flitted across the woman's pretty features, her bashful smile weakened as her bottom lip was tugged between her lips. She shook her head, eyes trained to the top button of Joel’s shirt.
He swallowed against a newly dry throat as he realized she was willing to give him everything. Pink swelling up into his cheeks when his cock convulsed at the thought. Surely she had to have felt that, the gasp slipping from her lips proving that she did.  
“I… I don’t wanna rush you into doing anything you’re not ready for.” Joel murmured, “We can take it as slow as you need.”
Y/N offered him a sweet smile at his words, her fingers toying with that button she had her eye on. They were trembling slightly, not out of fear but instead a steady form of anticipation.
“We’ve been married for almost a year now.” She responded, her tone soft. “I think we’ve taken it slow enough.” 
“Alright then.” Joel responded in that same tone, a small smile matching her own, his heart lurching at what was to come next. 
And he could have easily slipped back into the pace they had set when they had crashed into the room. His desires were certainly begging him to do so. But this was their first time indulging in this act as a married couple— her first time at all. So despite the protests of his aching body, Joel would take his time, offer every part of himself to her and hope she would offer the same. 
He smoothed his hand up her thigh, carving his way up to rest his fingers behind her ear, thumb against her cheek. Without much force at all, he guided her gently until their lips were touching once again, this time in a slower kiss. She relaxed against him, chest resting on his. A small whimper escaped the back of her throat at the tenderness of it all.
The small noise spurred Joel into rolling Y/N onto her back, flipping the preexisting roles, covering her with the shadow of his form. His hands were braced on the plush surface beside her head, holding his weight above her. His knee was positioned between her thighs. She was a whimpering mess, grinding up into him, desperate to relieve the ache between her legs. Joel couldn’t help the smirk that appeared over his lips. The bold woman who was kissing down his neck just a mere few minutes ago was long gone. A dark part of him took pleasure at the sight of her like this, desperate for him. It didn’t help how pretty she was splayed underneath him, eyes darkened with lust, bottom lip trembling, hips rutting towards the thigh that was too far away from where she wanted him.
He wouldn’t give it to her. Not yet at least. He was going to take his time. He set his hand against her hip, forcing her to stop her movements, holding her in place.
Lowering himself towards her, he brushed his lips across Y/N’s in a quick kiss. He placed another on the apple of her cheek. Another on her temple. And again at the corner of her mouth. He was moving so slow that she could feel the flutter of his eyelashes tickling her skin. She sighed at each kiss, relishing in his attentiveness. 
She was cold when he removed himself from her, standing up at the side of the bed. Even more so when his hands lifted the hem of her shirt, pulling it up over her head. Her nipples were pebbled against the white lace of her bra, made more obvious as she leaned up on her elbows. His darkened eyes roamed over her body, no inch left undiscovered. His fingers continued to do their work of revealing more, when he popped open the button of her shorts. The garment soon discarded on the floor with her shirt. 
All that she was left in was her undergarments, grateful she had put on a matching set that morning. Joel stood fully clothed in front of her, on unequal ground but somehow the thought excited her. She could feel herself flush behind the skin of her cheeks, turning her head so she could hide behind the back of her hand.
“Don’t hide from me, darlin’” He whispered, catching her in the act, fingers clasping around her wrist. She complied letting the limb fall back to its original position. She dared herself to meet his strong gaze as he continued, another gasp swirling into the air when he spread her thighs, the wetness between her legs more obvious once the cold air contrasted with the heat of her arousal. 
“Look at you…” Joel groaned, toying with the hem of her panties where her thigh met her center, the fleeting touch of his fingers causing her hips to twitch up towards him. He watched her restlessness with slight amusement, though he granted her some form of relief as he dipped his pointer finger into her soaked panties. Though he only did so to pull the fabric away from her burning heat, and a second later he let it snap back down, the sound louder than expected as it smacked against her folds. 
“Don’t do that.” Y/N whined, squirming under his teasing.
“What? You don’t like it?” He did it again, causing the girl to jolt up further on the bed. She whined once, but she didn’t exactly have any words to argue with him. She sort of did like his teasing. But impatience was taking over her.
“I— I think I’m ready.” She breathed heavily through her nose as his fingers continued to play around with the fabric of her panties. 
“Ready?” He questioned, brows furrowed.
“Ready for you to— for your…” She stammered, embarrassment flooding her senses as she couldn’t find how to put it.
“For my cock?” He finished for her. She squeaked at the unexpected harshness of his words, but was pleased by the sharp ache that probed at her core. 
“Mhm.” She nodded, shutting her eyes, almost as if bracing herself. 
They shot back open at the sound of Joel’s soft laughter filling the room, she was greeted with the sight of his bright smile, his head shaking.
“What?” Y/N asked, slightly perturbed at the fact he was laughing at her. He only shook his head, bending to loop an arm around her waist, shifting her body with ease so that she now lay properly on the bed, head sinking into the plush material of his pillows. She huffed in annoyance, lifting herself up back on her elbows so that he could feel the full force of her glare. 
“You’re not even close to ready for me, sweetheart.” He told her, a strong knee propped on the bed. His fingers were working on the buttons of his dark green shirt, revealing a smattering of hair that was once hidden by its confines. Y/N paused as she hungrily drank in the reveal of his skin, but was soon disappointed when he stopped at the third button down. Any complaints she had were lost on her tongue when he swung his other leg onto the bed, trapping the woman between his knees as he sat above her. 
He looked like a god in this position. Skin shining under the sunlight that slid into the room in its golden hour, the shadows of his strong features accentuated. She wasn’t sure if she should cower under his might, she was more grateful to be bestowed with this sight of him. Ready to sacrifice anything to him.
“I feel ready.” She murmured up to him, “Want you inside of me, Joel.”
An unanticipated shiver shot up the length of Joel's spine at her admission, his erection growing harsher within the limits of his underwear. He sucked in a deep breath, shaking his head as if he had to deliberately make the move to hold himself back.
“I want that too, baby.” He mumbled, shifting to smooth his hands down the expanse of her stomach, needing his hands on her in some shape or form. “But ‘m too big for you.”
“Too big?” Y/N parroted her eyes widening. He nodded.
“Have t’ get you ready for me.” He relayed, “Especially since you’ve never had anythin' up there before.”
“Yes I have.” She countered, her tone becoming more defiant. Joel stilled at her words, knowing that could only mean one thing.
“Your fingers?” He swallowed against the words. Y/N’s shy demeanor returned, she looked away.
“Yes.” She said, her voice small.
Joel held back a groan threatening at the back of his throat, the image of her playing with herself, cumming around her fingers, forcing its way to the forefront of his mind. He could feel as more precum leaked out of his tip, slicking against his skin. His heartbeat was ringing in his ears.
“It’s not gonna be the same.” He strained, shaking his head.
“Will it hurt?” 
“A little… at first.” He told her honestly, “That’s why I need you to be ready for me. It’ll hurt you less and I… just wanna make you feel good.”
Y/N softened at the earnest look in Joel’s eyes as he spoke, her heartbeat hammering in her chest with how much care he was providing for her. 
“Okay.” She relented, her hands moving up to grasp at the bottom of his shirt, tugging him towards her. He followed her movements with no resistance, leaning down to kiss her, deep and steady. 
“Make me feel good then.” She whispered into his lips.
“As you wish.”  He replied, in the same hushed tone.
Joel sat back on his heels, admiring her in the golden light for just a second longer before he started. They held each other’s stare, the love they confessed blooming in the air between them, warming their bones, making their hearts beat in time. 
His touch was light as he slid her panties down her legs, losing the piece of fabric somewhere on the bed behind him. He placed a featherlight kiss across her collarbone as he unclasped her bra, her back arching into him so he had the room to remove it. He tossed it in the same aimless direction. And when he sat back, she was bare to him. 
“Beautiful.” He mumbled, tracing his knuckles down her sternum to her belly button, she shivered under his touch, or maybe from the compliment. 
Then he placed himself gently on the pillow beside her. He brought a large hand to her chin, tilting her head to the side so that she’d meet his gaze. Kissing her lips gently, he slid that same hand down the length of her stomach until his fingers were pressing into her pubic mound. He pulled away from her lips, so he could see every little reaction that she had for him.
Her pretty lips fell open when he dipped his fingers lower, collecting the wetness that was pooling at her entrance. He hummed at how wet she was, the slick covering his two fingers when he brought them back up to rub circles into her clit. A moan was instantly pulled from her, her body jolting at the sensation, breasts bouncing as she did. Joel drank in every minute of it. 
And once he knew she was completely ready, he finally slipped a finger inside of her. 
Y/N sucked in a harsh breath, she wasn’t expecting his finger to feel so large inside of her. But it was nothing to what she had felt before when she tried something like this on her own. She felt so full with just the use of his finger, stretching her out so resolutely, that she wondered how it would feel once it was the real thing. She was whimpering once again due to Joel’s actions, her hands shot up to grasp at Joel’s bicep, his shirt taut over the flexing muscle. 
“You want another finger?” He asked into her temple.
“Y-yes.” She breathed, already wanting more from him. And he wasn’t going to deny her of what she wanted. So he added the second finger, the obscene sound of it squelching into the air. He changed the position of his hand, as well, his thumb now prodding at her clit whenever he thrust his hand back into her.
Y/N’s hips moved in time with each of Joel’s movements, even as he sped up, the sound of his palm smacking against her wetness growing louder and louder. Her moans were now tumbling over her tongue at a constant rate, her head thrown back against the pillow.
Joel’s eyes were still watchful over her, he gaped at how beautiful she looked, coming undone with only the use of his fingers. He couldn’t stop from grinding himself into her hip, moving at the same pace as his fingers, too turned on by her to try and hold back.
His own moans were muffled when he started kissing at her neck, and then down the soft flesh of her breasts, until he flicked his tongue over her sensitive nipple.
That was the beginning of Y/N’s breaking point. Him curling his fingers inside of her, probing at a small spongy spot hidden deep inside of her, was the end. 
Her orgasm ripped through her like a freight train, her cum splashing itself onto Joel’s palm. Her legs couldn’t stop shaking, even when he pulled his digits out of her. He chuckled softly as he wrapped an arm around her, pulling her into his chest. On instinct she curled into him, fingers clutching at the lapels of his shirt, her body still trembling as she floated back down from the sky. 
“How was that?” He questioned, holding her tighter against him. She could feel her own slick on his fingers as they pressed into her lower back. 
“Good.” She said into the crook of his neck, voice shaky, earning another laugh from the man. 
“We can stop now, if you want.” He told her, lips pressed into her hair. 
Y/N pushed against his chest, freeing herself from her previous hiding spot. She looked at him with furrowed brows and found nothing but honesty and adoration flickering across his irises. God, he really would stop for her, if she asked him too. In fact, the look he was giving her told her that he would do anything for her. She let out a frustrated breath, surely he wasn’t so stupid to think that she wouldn’t do the same for him. 
“I don’t want to stop.” She said, genuine with her words. Maybe a bit too forceful as she sat up.
“O-okay.” Joel relinquished, eyes wide at her eagerness, following her in the action of sitting up, his back now straightened.
“It’s slightly unfair, you know.” Y/N then said, placing a hand to the center of his chest, pushing lightly so that he would rest against the headboard. There was no resistance, he did as she said. 
“What is?” Joel inquired, his breathing quickening as Y/N sat on her knees beside his hip. His eyes were trained to the crease between her thigh and waist, relishing in her every curve. It was a cruel reminder of his hardened cock trapped in his pants, twitching at the sight. He didn’t even notice as her hands started to unbutton his shirt. That was until she started kissing at each newly revealed piece of skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at the touch of her lips.
“You always get to see me like that.” She said between kisses. And he could’ve argued that it had only ever been twice, but he didn’t want to know what would happen if he interrupted her wrath. “And yet you always hide from me.”
“I don’t hide from you.” Joel countered, his knuckles white from his grip on the sheets beneath him. “You’re just not the opportunist like I am.” 
A surge of pride spread out under Joel’s skin as Y/N’s sweet laughter bubbled into the air. The sound of it doing as much to him as her moans did. He loved hearing her laugh. Like it was proof that she was actually happy with him. Though he supposed the proof was right in front of him, as she continued to leave loving kisses across his chest.
Joel’s shirt was finally discarded, granting Y/N the sight she had been desperate to see for so long. A beauty to behold. He wasn’t exactly all hard lines and jagged edges. But he was strong and large, and soft in the places he needed to be. His skin was tanned and taut over muscles that could only be carved by the waves of a raging sea. But there were scars left behind, probably a result of tragedies endured on his countless journeys. Y/N left a soft kiss over each one.
And then her hands were soon preoccupied by a new task, the metal parts of his belt clanking against each other as she removed the constriction.
Joel waited with bated breath. He had to force himself not to ask if she was really sure about this. Because if she wasn’t, she definitely would not be slowly sliding open the zipper to his pants. Or then tugging them down his thick thighs, revealing the black fabric of his boxer briefs. And she definitely would not now be palming at the bulge between his legs. Which she was.
A groan fell from his lips once she had her hand squeezing at his erection. His hips jutted forward into her palm, his need for her touch too obvious for his own good. His eyes flickered up to find a look of pure wonder on the woman’s features, maybe she was surprised she could elicit such reactions from him. 
“Feel’s s’ good, baby.” He reassured, the words falling from his lips between soft grunts of pleasure. Y/N’s eyes snapped up to meet his. He stared back, lids hooded over darkened eyes overblown with lust. His hips were now rolling up into her hand, over and over, unable to stop.
“Really?” She squeaked.
“Yeah.” He grunted out, any coherent sentences lost to him as lust overtook him. Especially when her fingers hooked around the hem of his underpants, pushing them down to follow the path of his pants.
He gasped when the cold air hit his burning erection.
She gasped at the sight of it.
His cock sprang up once it was finally free from its confines, the tip hitting his lower belly, leaving behind a splotch of precum against his skin. And Joel was right… he was big. It was thick, just like the rest of him, with protruding veins running up the side. The head of it was red and angry, shining with the proof of his arousal. 
And surprisingly, despite the aggressive look of his erection, the woman wasn’t scared like she thought she’d be. Instead she was drawn to it. Drawn to him. Because she was drawn to every part of him. So there was no time wasted when her smaller hand wrapped around his length.
Joel cursed under his breath, head falling back against the headboard with a dull thud. Just the touch of her hand already had him weak, ready to unravel. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to last once he finally felt the tight confines of her cunt fluttering around him. So for now he enjoyed the soft touch of her hand, closing his eyes as her thumb spread his precum over the tip with gentle touches. 
She was slow with her movements, which was alright by Joel. It granted him time to breathe, as well as the fact that this was the first time she’s ever done anything like this. He didn't need to move any faster than this if she didn't want to. His arousal sat low in his belly, happily waiting in the anticipation. 
Though, his blood spiked when he felt the wet touch of her tongue against the head of his cock.
“W-what are you doin’?” He asked, head snapping up to find her crouched down at his waist, hands splayed out on his thighs. She looked up at him through her lashes, tongue still unyielding against him. It was a sight he had dreamt about and longed for, but he never expected her to do anything like this tonight.
“You did this for me, right?” Y/N said between the tiny kitten licks she administered,  “‘m only returning the favor.”
“You don’t have to do that.” He replied, shaking his head slightly. He brought a hand to her jawline, ready to pull her away from his erection, “You don’t owe me anythin’.”
“Okay… Well then it’s because I want to.” She countered, ignoring the presence of his hand and dipping her head downwards again. This time she wrapped her moistened lips over the entire tip. 
“Fuck.” He hissed into the air, his hand moving from her cheek to her hair. He tried to be gentle with his grip, knowing she was new to all of this, but it was increasingly difficult to do so. Especially when she hummed in pleasure around his cock, seemingly relishing in the slight pain of having her hair pulled. She swirled her tongue around him, pulling a stuttering whimper from his lips.
She looked up at him at the sound. His head was thrown back once again, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin, he was breathing harshly through his nose, his handsome features twisted with euphoria. And it was all because of her. 
Y/N felt as more wetness pooled between her legs and dripped down her inner thighs, she squirmed slightly as her arousal increased once again. As it turned out, she seemed to like having Joel like this, writhing under her in immense pleasure, whimpering from the touch of her tongue. She wondered if this is how he felt when he did the same thing to her. If he was this hard in her mouth because he gained pleasure from her pleasure. The thought spurred her on, moving her mouth further down his length.
Another deep groan rumbled out from his chest, eliciting a sound of affirmation from the woman, the vibration of her vocal chords shooting electricity through his body. He glanced back down at her, watching as she took him in as deep as she could.
“God, you look s’ pretty like that.”
And she did. Her mouth around his rigid cock, tears filling her eyes as he pushed deeper down her throat, her pupils blown out with need for him. He could cum to that sight. No— he was going to cum at the sight. He could feel the coil deep in his core about to snap as she continued. But he wasn’t going to let it end here. 
“W-wait. Please, darlin’, you have to stop.” Joel said softly, as he gently pulled her off of him, Y/N’s features held a look of confusion and disappointment. 
“Did I do something wrong?” She asked as he pulled her into his lap, his burning shaft now pressing nicely against the curve of her backside. He could feel how wet she was as she pressed her center into his lower abdomen, soaking the coarse hair spattered across the skin there. 
“No.” He shook his head, “No, you were absolutely perfect, sweetheart. I just… I want to be inside you before I finish.”
“Oh.” Y/N smiled shyly, her head dipping down in slight embarrassment. “Okay.”
“Do you think you’re ready for me?” He asked tenderly, placing kisses onto her cheeks. She closed her eyes against his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and nodding her head.
Soon she was on her back, head surrounded by Joel’s fluffy pillows. The sun had slowly dipped further down towards the horizon, only leaving a little bit of light left in the room. It was soft and gentle, caressing the two of them in dimming shades of blue. Joel braced himself over her, bicep flexing when he lowered himself to leave a kiss against her lips. 
“I’ll start slow.” He whispered to her afterwards, leaning his forehead onto hers, a large hand smoothing over her outer thigh. The pressure of his fingertips were somehow soft within his guiding grasp, positioning her leg over his hip. A shock of pleasure erupted in Y/N’s core as she felt the length of Joel’s cock nestle in between her folds at this new position. Joel’s shoulders trembled, breathing growing heavy, his reaction to the same thing.
Y/N’s own breath hitched in her throat as Joel’s hands snaked between them. He wrapped his calloused fingers around his shaft, guiding the tip through Y/N’s slit and brushing it lightly against her clit. Simultaneous gasps intermingled in the air between their lips as they relished in the sensation. 
“Joel.” Y/N whimpered, the unsaid words begging for more. He only nodded in return, his attention locked on the space between their hips, slowly growing smaller as he finally pushed the head of his cock inside of her.
Y/N could immediately tell the difference between this and his fingers. Before was barely anything compared to this. Now she was finally full, finally complete. And it was only the beginning as Joel slowly pushed himself deeper.
She whined at the stretch of him, fingernails scratching over his back. Joel wasn’t any better, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, releasing the most sinful of moans as he was slowly sucked in by her tight, wet warmth. The feel of her around him was more incredible than he imagined. So much so that he pushed in faster than intended, earning a sharp gasp from the woman beneath him. He stilled, immediately.
“Are you okay?” He asked, pulling away from her neck to gauge her true reaction. Her eyes were shut, bottom lip tucked between her teeth.
“‘m alright.” She replied, her heavy breathing causing her sensitive nipples to brush against Joel's chest, another spark of arousal surged through her bones. Another harsh moan was released from the man above her.
“Shit— baby, don’t do that.” He gritted his teeth.
Unknown to Y/N, when that bout of pleasure had traveled the length of her body, she had clenched around him at the sensation. The instance of which made Joel feel as though he might burst into flames. His cock jerked inside of her, the coil returning, slowly starting to unravel. 
“Think you can take any more?” Joel questioned, once he could calm his beating heart as much as he could have.
“There’s more?” She stammered, confused since she already felt so full.
“Y-yeah there’s more.” Joel told her, trying his hardest not to move an inch, the task becoming increasingly difficult. Y/N released a shuddering breath.
“Yeah.” She nodded, “I can take it.”
“That’s my girl.” Joel chuckled airily, the affirmation causing a nice pool of warmth to settle in Y/N’s belly. But the feeling was soon replaced by the head of Joel’s cock as it moved deeper inside of her, the length of him making her believe he was truly proding into her stomach. 
Slowly but surely the rest of him was sheathed inside of her, proven by the soft tickle of his pubic hair against her inner thighs. Joel let himself rest inside of her, allowing her to adjust to his size, his breathing deep and heavy as her walls squeezed around his cock. 
She started squirming beneath him, desperate for him to do more.
“Please Joel.” She whimpered, “Move.”
“You want me to move, sweetheart?” He murmured, nipping at her earlobe with his teeth, her desperation causing something wicked within him to start teasing. 
“Y-yes please, Joel. I need you.” She breathed, squeezing around him again. “Want you to fuck me.”
Joel’s entire body lurched at the words that slipped from her tongue. His heart hammering against his ribcage as it was completely unexpected. It caught him off guard, but he regained his bearings quickly, shaking free from the surprise as he took enjoyment from her dirty language.
“You do, huh?” He mumbled back, feeling her nod into his shoulder. “Is that what you want? For me t’ fuck you?”
“Yes.” She whined, a bit impatiently, more soft chuckles tumbled out of his lips.
“Okay, sweetheart.” He answered, “Anythin’ for you.”
And then he started moving. Slowly, so torturously slowly, sliding out until it was just his head that was left inside of her. Then, just as slowly he would sink all the way back in. He did that over and over again, causing an onslaught of pleasure to rip through the girl as the grooves of his cock carved into her walls so deliciously. She was a mess beneath him, shuddering and gasping with each slow movement he made.
Y/N arched into him, hands grasping at his back as he dipped his head, placing a kiss to her shoulder, moaning softly into her skin. Pleasure radiated throughout her body at every point of contact his skin had with hers, burning the brightest where the two of them connected. Even more so as Joel started to gradually speed up, still making long deep thrusts, but a little faster each time.
The bed started creaking beneath them, mixing in with the sound of their sensual moans as well as their skin slapping together in time with Joel’s thrusts. A cacophony of pleasure swirling around the room and serenading this moment as they finally connected in the way they always wanted to. 
The sting of Joel’s size was now long forgotten as Y/N savored in the pleasure of him. Her arms were wound tightly around his neck, holding his head into her shoulder. She could feel his lips pressing into her skin, leaving deliberate kisses after each thrust. Her legs soon followed the same pattern as her arms, looping around his waist, pulling his body in close. Now there was no part of them left untouching. 
His own arm soon snaked around her waist, drawing her in even closer if that was possible, her clit now firmly pressed against his pelvic bone. Y/N threw her head back with a deep moan, Joel’s lips attaching to her neck in record time. The heat low in her stomach returned from before, signifying that everything soon would come crashing down in a crescendo. 
Joel’s cock twitched inside of her as he felt her walls fluttering around him. His own impending orgasm weighing heavy in his chest. He pulled his lips away from her skin.
“Look at me.” He said softly, despite the fact that his thrusts became sloppier by the second, his pace staggering as he involuntarily thrusted harder inside of her.
Y/N— despite struggling under the onslaught of her own oncoming orgasm, opened her eyes for him, meeting his soft brown gaze as they chased their highs. It was strange to see that gaze in this context, especially since the first time she saw it she would have never guessed this is where it would bring her. But now that she was here she couldn’t ask for anything she wanted more.
Except for one thing.
“Kiss me.” She said in return, and since Joel couldn’t deny her of anything, he did just that, bringing their lips together in a tender kiss. The touch of it sending Y/N over the edge.
Joel felt as she came around his cock, squeezing onto him like a velvet vice, her cum gushing out around the base of him, soaking his skin. He moaned deep and heavy at the sensation, his own orgasm on the precipice. He placed his thumb on Y/N’s clit— hoping that will be enough to help her down from her high— as he pulled himself out of her.
He grunted with each spurt of cum splattering itself onto Y/N’s stomach, his free hand tight around his shaft, the length of it jerking in his hand. His thighs tensed as his orgasm shot out from his hips, shoulders trembling from the pleasure of it all, his heart racing.
Then, as the euphoria began to fade, his legs were weak as he sat back on his knees, chest heaving as he looked down at the mess he made on his beautiful wife. 
His cum was shining white against her skin, the gleam of it reflecting in the moonlight as her stomach moved up and down with each passing of her shallow breaths. Her limbs were limp against the mattress, eyes hooded as exhaustion took over her form. He smiled softly at the sight of her, sliding a hand underneath her to bring her up to his level. He pulled her into his lap, holding her flush against his chest—  not caring that his cum was now smeared across his own stomach.
“You did so well, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, stroking his knuckles across her cheekbone, she leaned into his touch, humming in content. Joel leaned forward, placing a kiss on her forehead.
They sat like that for a minute, savoring the silence between them and the embrace of their lover. But it didn't last too long as Joel spoke once more.
“Come on.” He abruptly said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, taking Y/N with him as he did. She whined when she realized she was being pulled away from the comfort of a warm bed.
“What? Why? I wanna sleep.” She argued when her feet hit the wooden floor beside his own, moving to dive back under the covers. He caught hold of her before she could.
“We gotta wash up.” Joel countered, pulling her towards the door that sat in the corner of the room, the mystery (that was not so mysterious) soon to be revealed.
“And then we can go to bed?” She questioned, as her shaking legs became more willing to follow him
“Not quite.” Joel grinned, guiding her into the shower. When she offered him a look of confusion at his words, he answered the question written on her face.
“We still have to make dinner.”
And soon, after all the proof of their passion was washed clean from their skin, underneath swirling puffs of cedar-scented steam and occasionally interrupted by stolen kisses, the two of them made their way down to their kitchen. And an hour later, as they sat across the table from one another, under the golden glow of their kitchen light. They divulged in their carefully prepared meal, sharing shy smiles and fleeting glances between each bite. The sight of them alone contradicting any statement that the island they resided on didn’t live up to its name. 
~~~
A/N: honestly this fic was born because of the smut scene in the kitchen, i can't lie 😩 and then i rewatched the music video for adore you by harry styles so i wanted this oneshot to be something romantic and whimsical in it's nature, so i hope that came across. Is it corny? yes! but I had so much fun writing this so i hope you had fun too!!! thank you so much for taking the time to read my work !! and now i'll be leaving, goodbye forever!! <33
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pascalpvnk · 6 months
Text
only need ten
pairing: jackson era!joel miller x afab!reader
summary: this brain rot post by @chaotic-mystery
word count: 0.8k words (i'm impressed with myself)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, established relationship (not specified), swearing, needy Joel, porn with a smidgen of plot, no physical descriptions of reader, smut (unprotected p in v, fingering if you squint, creampie)
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a/n: it's been aaages since i've started and completed a fic in the same day! anyways, barely edited and quickly beta'd by me, all mistakes are my own. i hope you enjoy! xx (divider by @/saradika)
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The snooze button fell under the weight of your palm as your alarm clock beckoned your consciousness. You settled yourself back into your spot, cuddling into the massive man pressed against your back, his arm draped around your frame. A groan vibrated into your neck as Joel pulled you tighter against him. He caged you in like some kind of wild animal.
“Darlin’,” he rasped, the usually deep timbre of his voice reaching half an octave lower. “Just turn the damn thing all th’way off.”
His nose buried deeper into the side of your neck, his hips shifting against your own. Oh. His cock was straining against the thin fabric of his boxers, nudging at your thigh.
“Joel,” your whine muffled by your pillow. “I have to leave in fifteen minutes, I can’t be late for patrol again. We have to be back in time for Sunday brunch.”
“Only need ten, baby,” he drawled in a hushed tone, hooking his thick fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. “Please?”
His lips ghosted along your jaw, his beard prickling against your skin. Your eyes were somewhat adjusted to the darkness of your bedroom, but you couldn’t see the needy man behind you. So when his teeth dragged against your jawline, it completely caught you off guard. Arousal immediately seeped through your underwear, clouding your logical thinking as you nodded in response to him. 
Wasting no more time, Joel pushed your panties down the expanse of your legs, keeping them hooked on one of your ankles. The rough pads of his fingertips teased your entrance, collecting your slick and depositing it to your clit. He traced small, calculated circles along the sensitive and swollen nub. 
“Fuck, sweetheart. Already s’wet for me,” Joel grunted, shuffling behind you and replacing his fingers with the ruddy tip of his cock, lining himself up to spear into you. He slowly stuffed it into your weeping pussy, drawing desperate groans from both of you.
A calloused palm slid under your shirt, landing atop one of your breasts as Joel’s cock bottomed out inside of you. It was quite a pinch since you were so short on time, but your core quickly adjusted to the familiar body. Moans slipped between your lips as he continued to fuck you slowly, but Joel wasn’t having it.
“Baby, ya sound s’pretty,” he sighed with pleasure. “But you’re gon’ wake up the whole neighborhood. Won’t hear the end f’it from Ellie.”
“Can’t help it,” you panted. “Y’feel so good, oh fuck.”
Joel’s hand wriggled out of your top, planting it on your jaw to turn your face. He swallowed your whimpers and cries of pleasure with his lips enveloping yours. His hips continued their lazy pace as your own hand came up to lie overtop his massive one. Sweat from his torso smeared onto your back as your bodies and souls connected as one. 
“Yeah, keep squeezin’ my cock like that, sweetheart. Make a mess all over me,” he groaned against your cheek, kicking the duvet off of your overheated bodies. Maneuvering his leg between yours, he got your leg swung over his thigh, giving himself deeper access into your begging cunt. Each pass stimulated your g-spot, your walls fluttering around his length.
“I’m so close,” you cried as quietly as you could muster. Your breath hitched with every snap of his hips, your impending orgasm tumbling quicker and quicker towards you. A call of your lover’s name was stifled by his palm, the bicep it was interconnected to bulging under your ear. His now free hand found its way back to toy with your throbbing clit. Your walls spasmed around him, his cock twitching in response.
“Christ. Gon’ fill you up, baby. All mine,” he slurred, his grunts and pace picking up as he chased his own high. It was your turn to suppress his volume. A passionate kiss was exchanged, enough to send Joel over the edge and paint the inside of you like his personal canvas. 
Kisses and soft touches continued for a moment after Joel turned you toward him, clammy foreheads pressed together tenderly. Whispered ‘thank you's and ‘I love you's were pressed into your cheek, neck and shoulder before Joel reached down to capture your panties. He pulled them back up your legs and covered your sex, trapping every drop of cum he gave you. 
“Just a reminder f’who took care of your pretty pussy until ya get t’come back to me,” he mused. Joel helped you get bundled up for your first below freezing patrol shift, getting your jacket zipped up, boots tied and stocking cap secured before sending you off with a ‘be smart’ and warm kiss on your forehead. 
The walk to your post felt ten miles long with how behind you were, your boots leaving behind tracks in the fresh layer of snow. There was no way of hiding your true excuse, you reeked of sex and sweat, but you'd be lying if you said it wasn't worth it.
“Eight minutes late again! Grace period is up, I'm afraid,” Tommy chirped as you approached, a shit eating grin plastered on his face. Only ten minutes your ass.
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Unexpected Calling – Part I
Masterlist - WIP
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Fandom: Marvel
Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.
Type: Series
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet
Warnings: Be prepared for some adult language! Nothing too crazy in this first part though, we're just getting started so that's my only warning for now.
Word count: 1.6k
Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!
This post was Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661. Thanks a million!
A/N: Thought I'd throw my hand at a prompted fic! Hope you guys like it, I'll add a chapter directory and update as needed as the next parts are posted. So stay tuned 👀 Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3
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Every morning is always the same when you're paid to kill. He'd been trying to be better about the whole actual killing part lately, but that didn't change his morning routine very much. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off—yes, he still used one. If you asked for his reasoning, he'd tell you it's because it's less complicated and you can always count on it to work because it simply stayed plugged into the wall; in the event that the power went out? It had batteries for backup power, and you can't find that kind of peace of mind with just the alarms on your phone. He's still an old soul, sue him. He woke up at 6:45 am, on the dot, every morning without fail that way so it was rather effective.
After the blaring sound of his trusty alarm clock came the process of forcing himself out of bed and cleaning up for the day; shaving if necessary, freshening up, getting dressed, the works. This was generally when he'd change his appearance should the need arise, as well. But he didn't need to do that this morning and so he flicked the light to the bathroom off as he left the room when he was finished, heading out to his kitchen thereafter. The next step? Food. It was always 7 am sharp by the time he got done with his wakeup process, the only time that changed being when he added any extra steps in the bathroom. And breakfast was always simple: a cup of hot black coffee, sliced avocado, and bread toasted to perfection with an egg over medium to be dipped in. And it never failed to be a pleasant way to start his morning, usually followed closely after by a session of watching the morning news. He found it a good way to see what was going on in the area and across the country so he could plan accordingly.
If he didn't have a job, which by chance was the case today, he'd generally find any sort of quiet way to spend the rest of his morning; reading a book, cleaning up all his weapons, or a walk in the park if he felt like it. Today, he felt like it. And it was mostly peaceful, if you excluded the grating sound of car horns, tires squealing, and buses chuffing past. And of course, if you chose to ignore the rumbling from the subway, the people shouting either in their urgency to get to work or just simply because they were an ass, then it was really utterly plain and quiet to walk through Central Park. By this point Bucky had truly gotten used to it. He supposed in some ways it wasn't too much different from his home in the past. But that didn't mean he liked to spend too much time there anyway. So long as he got out and went back home just in time, he could skip the gradeschoolers and dog walkers that came around for the afternoon.
There had been nothing unusual about his day so far, and he liked that. He liked the rhythm of it all, and how it always went according to his carefully curated schedule. He began the process of unlocking his apartment door after making his way up to his floor, and pushed it open to take a step inside. Crunch.
What the helll...?
Bucky frowned as, seemingly, something sat under his boot and crinkled where he'd stepped, making the same sound again as he carefully pried his foot off. The poor, crisply folded, paper envelope that had earlier been slotted through his dead-drop, suffered a dirt-covered footprint but aside from that, it seemed harmless and intact as he picked it up to inspect it. A curious thing to find when you hardly get mail aside from the bills. What was even more curious was the contents within it, feeling a bit lumpy and—quite frankly—heavy for a letter-sized envelope. He closed the door behind himself with one hand, locking it once again out of habit while the other kept hold of the envelope. Moments later he flicked out a switchblade to slice it open revealing not only a handwritten letter but also $23.42.....Exactly. All in small change.
It was quite honestly the oddest thing he'd seen or received to date, and that was including the number of quite-literal backstabs he'd received, numerous other maiming injuries, and the odd encounters he’d had with a talking raccoon, tree, and robot...man…thing. To name a few. That was also including the number of odd jobs he'd been offered and peculiar payment methods he'd been given. Never had he come across such a specific payment with a letter that….upon further inspection….looked as though its penman couldn't be much older than 9 years old, at most.
'Dear mister,
My name is Rosie Jones. I am 9 yeers old. My mommy says you're vary good at helping people. Well, I need your help. Mommy also said you like to be paid for helping, so I broke my piggy bank open so you wood help us. Mommy doesn't know yet thoe, so please don't tell her.
My mommy dissuhpeered disappeered last night. She told me to hide and I did but now I can't find her and so I need your help mister becuz you're really good at finding people too, mommy said so. Please please help me find my mommy, I don't know what to do mister.
– Rosie'
"You've gotta be shitting me." He muttered to himself. The first question Bucky had, quite honestly, was how did this little girl even know who he was? Or where he lived? Not many people did, if any, truth be told. If they did? They were usually dead within minutes. It was one of many reasons that kept his renowned status intact. But here he was, sitting at his own table, with proof that some little girl knew both of those things. Frowning down at the paper and envelope of change, the assassin ran his hand back through his dark brown hair momentarily, processing what he'd just read. On one hand, it could be an elaborate trap. By all rights he had to assume it, considering the nature of the letter and the fact that a little girl of all people had written it. But on the other hand, there was a certain dedication there that he simply couldn't ignore. And some part of him couldn't help but at least look into it. So moments later, the man was pulling out his laptop and began searching for answers, anything that could give this little girl's story any sort of credit.
Much to his surprise? It checked out. Every last bit of it. There was a mother, connected to the Rosie Jones in question, who had gone missing under rather mysterious circumstances. "I'll be damned, mystery kiddo."
'Y/N Jones, aged 37, a single mother, was nowhere to be found the next morning after reports came in that a struggle and silenced gunshots were heard from the house that night.'
He probably could have gotten away with just keeping the money and letting it go. It was some little kid somewhere hoping for someone to hear her plea, he could get away with it. But it was that name…. he'd seen it before, he knew he had. In all fairness though, he really only remembered faces exceptionally well. Names didn't matter in the long run, names didn't tell him who he was shooting within a crowd of people. So why did it keep nagging at the back of his mind?...
Spoiler alert: he shouldn't have went digging. He should have just left it alone. But he had always been a curious mind and he was nothing if not thorough on top of that. Popping open the top to his bottle of whiskey, Bucky carefully poured out a favorable portion into a glass tumbler, before letting it down onto the counter as he heard an agreeable noise coming from his laptop to signal it had finished its task. Glancing over his shoulder, he sipped on his drink as he made his way back over to the table, having waited for what seemed like an hour to get the information he wanted. And the minute he looked at the screen was the very same minute he regretted it.
He knew that face.
He knew it like the back of his hand almost, he knew it the same way he knew the taste of bourbon or the sound of a .22 magnum. That was the face of Y/N Y/L/N and it was a face he had been trying to forget for years now. But most of all he knew it was a mistake to have even touched this with a ten-foot pole. Because now he had a target, he knew what the target looked like, and he had been paid in- well, maybe not-so-full, but in 9-year-old currency $23.42 was basically a million dollars considering it was all her savings.
In short?
He had to do it now.
He knew that. And it damn near made him groan at the prospect. Because this was going to be a long-ass job, and if he was going to ensure the rescue of that little girl's mother, then he needed to ensure that child's safety. The less leverage the 'enemy' had, the easier his job was. So as he sighed out, "Damnitall, this better be fuckin worth it kid," the hundred year old assassin finished off his drink and went about packing his things to take on a job that he never asked for, but knew damn well he was stuck with until it was over.
But at least if he had to go through with this, he was going to be damn sure he did it right, that was for sure.
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Taglist: If you weren't tagged it's because I couldn't get it to tag you or I didn't know which account was yours – @aingealcethlenn @deaan @idabbleincrazy @impala-1979 @kadet-jb @myinconnelly2 @princessmisery666 @rosedemica @tvdspngirl314 @darsynia @buckys-zomdoll @cookingglitterfairy @emilyshurley @fictionalabyss @jotink78 @mariekoukie6661 @manawhaat @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @scarletwinchester84 @sorenmarie87 @until-theend-oftheline @starryeyes2000 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @betweengalaxies2 @focusonspn
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crowfootwrites · 5 months
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Eaha’le
I got the idea for the first part of this fic, the interaction between reader and Senator Cretak, and it rooted itself so deeply in my brain that I could literally hear it in her voice (specifically Megan Cole's Cretak, who I am deeply in love with 😅). Anyway, here's another entry for the December Prompt List by @creativepromptsforwriting. Tagging the folks I knew usually love that good Romulan shit! @deepspacedukat @bigblissandlove1 @sleepycat82 @starrynightgardens @horta-in-charge
Eaha'le translates to "sweetness" in Rihan.
December 8: Sweets (Senator Kimara Cretak x GN!Reader)
Warnings: none; pure fucking fluff; not beta'd we die like men. | Words: ~620
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“And, what did you say this was called again?” Kimara asked as she sat, slightly wide-eyed, at your mother’s kitchen table, the few brown crumbs dusting her lips begging you to kiss them off.
You laughed and wiped your floured hands on the towel slung over your shoulder before taking a seat across from her, the Christmas platter of shaped cookies resting between you.
“Gingerbread,” you reminded her.
“It is… spicy,” she murmured, reaching for another Human man-shaped cookie. “But also sweet.” She studied it intently before gingerly taking a bite.
She nodded thoughtfully. “This is excellent,” she mumbled around the cookie in her mouth.
More of your laughter bubbled over – while you never imagined you’d refer to a Romulan partner as “adorable”, Kimara’s curiosity was endearing and it made her all the more lovely to you.
You knew, of course, about the Senator’s penchant for sweets. In the time you’d known her, she’d never passed up an opportunity to try a new confection. She’d actually introduced you to jumja sticks after you’d arrived on Deep Space 9.
But being back in your family home on Earth for Christmas meant introducing Kimara to scads of novel, handmade Terran desserts – so far, there’d been some hits and some misses. She wasn’t a fan of sweet potato pie, which you’d lamented dramatically, or peanut butter fudge. But she’d eaten enough lemon bars to make herself sick and was “delighted” by the lightness of your profiteroles. Gingerbread, it would seem, was another hit.
“I’m glad you like it,” you offered. “It’s a pretty traditional Christmas dessert, around here anyway.”
A loud clinking carried across the kitchen as your mother entered, carrying a tilting stack of ceramic casserole dishes. She swore loudly as she caught her hip on the corner of the counter and dumped the pile of pans on the countertop in annoyance.
“I’m fixin’ to make my famous banana puddin’, Kimmy,” she divulged, leaning against the counter with one hand on her hip. You snorted lightly at your mother’s diminutive nickname for your dignified, Senate office-holding partner. Kimara glanced between you and your mother, her eyes still wide.
“Bananas are a sweet, custardy kind of fruit – and in banana pudding, you slice up bananas and layer them with cream and crispy vanilla cookies,” you filled in.
“And mine’s the best,” your mother added, fluffing her hair a bit. “Won the blue ribbon at the holiday bake-off for the last three years.”
“That sounds like an exceptional accomplishment,” Kimara replied earnestly, and you reached for her hand over the table to give it a squeeze. Her kindness never ceased to amaze you – it was unexpected from someone who’d previously described the Romulans’ “well-earned” arrogance to you.
“I look forward to trying it,” she added with a respectful incline of her head.
“Oh, you’re too sweet, Kimmy.” Your mother flushed and began making a racket as she shuffled her dishes around and started setting out ingredients.
A timer sounded from beside the oven and you ruefully pulled yourself from your Senator’s grasp to pull your thumbprint cookies out of the oven. Navigating around your mother’s chaos in the kitchen, you set your cookies to cool and poured a cup of tea each for you and Kimara. As you turned toward the table, you spotted her finishing her third gingerbread cookie and chided her softly.
“You’ll make yourself sick again,” you warned around a grin, setting the cups on the table and seating yourself beside your partner. 
This time you couldn’t help it, leaning in to kiss away the specks of gingerbread clinging to her soft lips, your eyes fluttering closed as she kissed you back, spice and sparks crackling to life between you. 
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qiangweirosa · 2 months
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late nights
" Artem receives an uncharacteristic text from Vyn on a late night. Feelings ensue.
or, vyntem drunken confessions fic i guess "
relationships: artem/vyn, background marius/luke/rosa, rosa & artem tws: alcohol, some angst wc: 4009 extra: my longest fic to date! + not beta'd, please ignore any inconsistencies
read on ao3!
Artem should have been in bed by now. He had been working late, and perhaps if he hadn’t, this never would’ve happened. 
Or maybe it would have either way. He knew Vyn’s messages had a way to catch his attention no matter what the time was. 
Either way, when his phone vibrated and lit up with a notification, Artem absentmindedly glanced at it. He told himself he’d check it out later, until it chimed again with more notifications. 
His eyebrow raised. Why was Vyn messaging him so late?
A quick raise of his eyes informed him that it was past two in the morning. He frowned. Was Vyn in some sort of trouble? Why else would he message the senior attorney at all, and especially this late?
He grabbed his phone and opened the messaging app. Artem was greeted with several messages, lacking Vyn’s usual formal and precise typing. Instead, his texts were littered with typos, improper punctuation, and contents that made Artem’s eyes widen. 
And his heart beat faster, although he’d never admit it.
From Vyn, 2:03am: Artem
From Vyn, 2:03am: Artem…
From Vyn, 2:04am: Yuore so incredibly annoynig, yoy know
From Vyn, 2:04am: Uts so ynfair 
From Vyn, 2:05am: How csn you be si handsome yet so annoying
From Artem, 2:06am: …Are you drunk, Vyn?
Artem stared at his phone in disbelief. Vyn wasn’t the type to get drunk ever, or to even drink alcohol, if he didn’t need to. Let alone to message Artem saying such… things. 
He didn’t notice he had been in a daze until his phone chimed again with a new message. 
From Vyn, 2:06am: Im not durnk
Right. Of course. 
From Artem, 2:07am: Go to bed, Vyn. It’s late anyway. 
The response was almost immediate. 
From Vyn, 2:07am: No
From Vyn, 2:07am: Youre not here
Artem ignored the way his face heated up as he read the message. 
He let out a sigh as he shook his head. Perhaps if he tried long enough, he would manage to convince Vyn to go to sleep. 
From Artem, 2:08am: We have a meeting tomorrow anyway, we’ll see each other then. 
From Artem, 2:08am: Just go to sleep. 
Once again, the response was almost instantaneous (was Vyn actively waiting for them?).
From Vyn, 2:08am: In ttoo long 
Another sigh left Artem’s lips. Why was he so stubborn? Vyn had always been stubborn, but it had been working the bounds of reason, and he never went too far in his stubbornness. So why now?
Sometime during his thinking, Artem had closed his work computer and folders, and gotten up. At least he was still relatively dressed; he grabbed his keys and headed outside.
He had forgotten he had left Vyn on seen until his phone chimed again as he walked to his building’s parking. 
From Vyn, 2:11am: Artem
He stopped in his tracks momentarily to respond. 
From Artem, 2:11am: Yes?
No response. 
He shrugged and shoved his phone inside his pocket, walking - albeit a bit faster, no, not out of concern or anything, of course not - to his car and getting into the driver seat. 
He saw his phone light up a few times from its place on the center console, but Artem was a responsible man, he didn’t use his phone at all when driving. He was going to see Vyn anyway; there shouldn’t be any harm in checking once he’d arrived. 
Artem drove as fast as the speed limit allowed, not wanting to arrive too late in case Vyn had gotten injured or worse. 
A little voice in the back of his mind also wishes to see him as soon as possible. 
Soon enough, Artem could see Vyn’s house appear and get closer. He parked in his usual spot in the street, right next to the entrance (Marius and Luke both had complained about having to park further from the house - Artem had told them to simply arrive earlier.).
Once he was right in front of the door, Artem pulled his phone out to text Vyn to open the door. He still tried to open the door first; unsurprisingly, the door was locked. Vyn may have been acting weird, but he wasn’t one to compromise his oh so important safety and privacy. 
He was greeted with several messages he hadn’t yet seen, as he had been driving when Vyn sent them. 
From Vyn, 2:14am: Are you askeep
From Vyn, 2:14am: You probabbly are 
From Vyn, 2:15am: I hate you somych
From Vyn, 2:15am: Artem
From Vyn, 2:15am: Even justy our name infuruiates me
From Vyn, 2:16am: Such  a perfect name
From Vyn, 2:16am: For osmoene like you
From Vyn, 2:16am: I gues sit kinda fits
A sigh left Artem’s lips. He really needed to get Vyn to bed, lest the Svartian man say something he’d most definitely regret tomorrow.
He would probably regret what he already said, but still. Artem wanted to do some damage control.
From Artem, 2:17am: Can you come open the door?
His message was left on seen, and a few minutes later he heard the door being unlocked. Artem’s eyes widened as he saw Vyn behind the doorway, his heartbeat unwillingly accelerating at the sight. Vyn was wearing one of his night robes, loosely tied around his waist. One of the sleeves was sliding off from his shoulder, revealing not only the aforementioned shoulder, but also his collarbones and his oh so alluring chest- Artem snapped his eyes back up. However, that didn’t help his case; somehow, the sight of Vyn’s face made his heart beat even faster. His hair was uncharacteristically messy and tangled, his face was flushed a light red color, coloring his cheeks in a way that Artem found probably more attractive than he should. Vyn’s eyes were glazed over, his glasses were crooked, and he leaned on the door for support.
After a murmur of his name from Vyn, Artem realized he’d been staring, and stepped inside after clearing his throat. He made sure the door was locked, before taking one of Vyn’s arms and wrapping it around his shoulder. His own arm wrapped around Vyn’s waist, supporting the pale man up. Vyn immediately leant into Artem, putting his weight on him and letting himself be led.
Thankfully, Artem already knew the way to Vyn’s room - after all, the NXX team had met up here every so often for meetings, and Vyn’s house was as organized as he was -, so the walk there wasn’t that long. 
Although a part of him deep inside his heart did wish it was longer, when he finally let go of Vyn’s waist and had him sit in his bed.
Vyn held onto Artem still, his grip strong despite his intoxicated state. Artem tugged his arm away a few times, to no avail as Vyn still wouldn’t let go. 
He eventually gave in with a sigh, and proceeded to help Vyn get under the covers to the best of his ability. Once that was done, Artem spoke up in a hushed tone, not wanting to disturb the silence that had settled between them. 
“I’m going to bring you a cup of water.”
Only then did Vyn, although reluctantly, let go of Artem’s sleeve, allowing the senior attorney to walk to the kitchen and fill a cup with water to bring it to him. 
When Artem walked back into the room, he saw Vyn staring intensely at the door through half lidded eyes, his gaze lighting up as soon as Artem walked into the room. 
Artem found it odd. Vyn usually had such a strong hold on his emotions, he never let anything past his facade that he didn’t want others to see. And he had a feeling Vyn definitely wouldn’t have wanted him to see this. 
Nonetheless, he walked back to the bed and sat next to Vyn, placing the glass on his bedside table to help the pale man sit up comfortably. He then held the glass to Vyn’s mouth and helped him drink it, and Artem had to consciously stop himself from becoming all but too aware of Vyn’s soft-looking lips so close to his hand. 
Some of the water dripped down Vyn’s chin, prompting Artem to take one of the tissues on the bedside table and wipe it. He placed the now empty glass back down and gently wiped the water on Vyn’s chin, neck, and he paused at his collarbone, wondering if he should keep going. 
His face felt hot as he quickly wiped the few water drops on Vyn’s chest, soon looking away and clearing his throat to clear some of the embarrassment. 
“Alright… You should get some sleep now. I’ll get going then.”
Artem moved to stand up and leave, only to be stopped by his wrist being held. He turned his face to look at Vyn, his eyes slightly wider in surprise. 
Vyn stared at him with such longing in his eyes that Artem couldn’t help but blush, his mouth parted to whisper:
“Can’t you stay?”
——
Artem had been lucky to have a day off the following day. 
His eyes fluttered open later than he usually woke up at; it must’ve been around 9 in the morning. 
And yet, at such an early hour of the morning, he felt as if he’d been attacked by the view in front of him: Vyn was laying on Artem’s chest, his arms resting a bit higher. His eyes were shut, showing off even further his long lashes, and god Artem could’ve sworn that he looked just angelic. 
Artem couldn’t move. His heart was beating unnaturally fast, and he didn’t want to wake up Vyn either way. 
(God knows that waking up Vyn earlier than he’d like could result in terrible consequences. 
And Artem didn’t exactly want this moment to end.)
He closed his eyes again. It couldn’t hurt to get some more sleep, he supposed. 
He stirred awake again two hours later, when Vyn himself woke up. He stretched and blinked at Artem a few times, still evidently processing the situation through his hungover and sleep clouded mind. 
Suddenly, his eyes narrowed, glaring at Artem. 
“What are you doing here?”
His words were spoken slowly, the anger behind them quite obvious. 
“You didn’t let me go home.”
Vyn’s eyes widened, and he looked down at his position, straddling Artem’s waist. He quickly moved off, sitting on the bed and allowing Artem to sit up. 
“What are you even talking about?”
Artem stayed quiet a few moments, trying to figure out how to answer. Seems Vyn didn’t remember what happened last night. How was he even supposed to recount that?
“You messaged me while you were inebriated. You wouldn’t go to sleep, so I came here to do that. And then you asked me to stay.”
“And you did?” 
“Am I not here right now?”
Vyn sighed, his hand coming to pinch the bridge of his nose. 
“Whatever… Just go. Get out of my house.”
Artem moved out of the bed, stretching his limbs as he did so. He could feel Vyn’s glare on his back as he moved, quickly getting out of the house. Once he was in his car, he noticed how disheveled he looked. Grabbing his phone to check the time, he also noticed he wouldn’t have the time to go back to his apartment and change, then come back for the meeting. With a sigh, Artem settled on just waiting in his car, and trying to fix his appearance as much as he could. 
Vyn grasped his head and walked to the medicine cabinet in the kitchen. 
“God, I have such a headache…”
——
It had been about three weeks since Artem half willingly spent the night at Vyn’s house. 
He wished he could say it hadn’t been that important, but unfortunately it plagued his mind ever since. 
He still remembered Marius’ comment that same day, wondering why Artem looked so unusually disheveled, and even making a joke about him having had “fun activities before coming here”. Needless to say, Artem couldn’t wait for that meeting to finish. 
But every night since, Artem would glance at his phone, and some part of him wished that Vyn would message him like he did that day. Of course, it hadn’t happened yet, which maybe was for the best, and-
“What’s up with you recently?”
Artem was brought out of his daze by Rosa’s voice, his work partner placing the documents in her arms on his desk. He blinked at her. 
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been spacing out a lot, and you always seem to have something on your mind?” She paused. “Did something happen?”
Artem sighed in thought. Perhaps it would be a good idea to tell someone about it? Besides, Rosa was relatively trustworthy - relatively, because she was dating Luke and Marius, who definitely weren’t -, and she probably would give good advice. 
“It’s.. a bit of a long story. Something happened between Vyn and I, and it's been on my mind ever since.” 
He could see her stifle back a laugh at his words, before she coughed and recomposed herself. She took a seat next to Artem on his office couch, nodding to prompt him to continue. 
And so he told her what happened - omitting, of course, the strange feelings seeing Vyn like that caused in him. 
Rosa seemed deep in thought as he finished recounting the events of that night. 
“Have you considered that Vyn likes you?”
“…What?”
His eyes widened as he looked at her in disbelief. She gave a laugh at his reaction, before elaborating. 
“I mean, I’d say those messages are pretty telling by themselves, but considering the way he acted too? That seems like the only logical option to me.”
Artem stared at her in silence, before shaking his head no. 
“No. There’s no way. It’s Vyn we’re talking about, Rosa.”
She raised her eyebrow and sighed. 
“If you don’t believe me, so be it. But that’s the only explanation I see.”
She shrugged. The two of them soon went back to their work, the previous conversation topic forgotten. 
Once they were done and ready to head out, Artem turned to ask her. 
“Should I come pick you up for tonight?”
Rosa gave a bright grin as she answered. 
“No, there’s no need. Marius is picking Luke and I up, so you only need to drive Vyn.”
He nodded, and they went their separate ways. Him and Rosa had been invited on behalf of Themis Law Firm to a formal event, and the other members of the NXX ended up revealing their own invitations afterwards (how did this keep happening?). So they would all be meeting up at the event. 
Artem headed to the underground parking and got into his car. He first drove to his apartment to get dressed and fix his hair to look more appropriate for an event. One side of his hair was pinned back, and he put on one of his better quality suits. 
Once he was dressed, he headed back to his car and typed a quick message to let Vyn know he would be on his way, before turning the car on and starting to drive towards the Svartian’s house. 
He couldn’t help the way his face flushed as he came closer to the house, memories of that night flooding his brain again. He shook his head to try and stop thinking about them. 
Thankfully, Vyn was standing on the porch of his house, immediately walking up to Artem’s car as it stopped and getting in the passenger seat. He didn’t seem to enjoy having to be driven by Artem, but he had to go along with it either way. 
The drive to the venue was mostly quiet, only a few words shared between the two men. They went their separate ways almost immediately after arriving. 
Artem found Rosa, Luke and Marius soon enough, and after a short time spent with them as well, it seemed he would spend the majority of the evening on his own. He didn’t necessarily mind, and either way, guests soon started coming up to him themselves. 
He spent the evening exchanging with people who wanted connections with Themis Law Firm, and specifically with this one woman who seemed to follow him around, from how many times they’d bumped into each other. 
She was... very touchy with him. More than he liked. He had told her to stop touching him quite a few times, yet she kept doing it, which was slowly getting on his nerves, if he were to be honest. 
Artem didn’t see Vyn at all the entire night, almost as if Vyn was avoiding him. It saddened him, for some reason. 
The woman was still standing near him, rambling off about whatever. Artem usually tried to pay attention to whatever was being told to him, but this woman had been talking to him for so long, he had stopped listening a while ago. He just hoped for this event to come to an end soon. 
After what felt like an eternity, Rosa walked up to him, followed by the other men of the team, to tell him they would be taking their leave. He bid farewell to the woman, and left the venue as quickly as possible. 
Once they were out and ready to go their separate ways, he noticed the way Vyn was holding onto Luke to stand. Marius sent him a quip, but he didn’t listen, his gaze trained on Vyn. 
They had a short talk before Vyn started holding onto Artem and they walked to his car, waving goodbye to the other three. 
Vyn was stumbling, his face was flushed and most of all, he smelled of alcohol; it didn’t take a genius to figure out Vyn had drunk quite a large amount of alcohol. 
Artem sighed as he helped Vyn get into the passenger seat again. If the ride to the venue was quiet, the ride back was even quieter. Vyn seemed upset, or rather angry, and kept glaring at Artem. Although he was focusing on the road, Artem kept sending concerned glances at Vyn. 
Perhaps not only concerned, as Vyn did look even more beautiful than usual. Not that Artem typically thought about his beauty, of course. It was simply an objective fact. Obviously. 
As Artem drove into Vyn’s neighborhood, he noticed the man beside him shift ever so slightly, most likely only moving to be more comfortable. He parked into his usual spot, getting out of the car and circling around it to open the passenger door. 
Vyn stumbled out of the car, Artem rushing to hold him up. He wrapped an arm around his waist, and reached to place Vyn’s arm around his own shoulders. 
His touch felt burning. But Artem couldn’t deny how much he had craved it. 
They stumbled together to the door, Artem muttering an apology before reaching into Vyn’s pockets to grab the keys to the house. He had seen before Vyn open the front door, so he had a subtle idea of which key was the one. Once he had opened the door, he walked inside, Vyn still clinging onto him. 
He made sure to first place Vyn onto the closest couch, taking care to lay him down comfortably, before walking back to the front door and closing it. As he turned back to face Vyn, he saw the younger man trying to sit up and reach for Artem, incoherent words spilling out of his lips. 
Artem frowned in concern. He made his way to Vyn, checking for his temperature first. It was higher than it should be, especially considering Vyn’s usual cold body temperature, but he blamed it on the alcohol for now. If it kept up, Vyn would surely be able to take care of himself. 
Vyn was… lighter than he had imagined. As Artem carried him in his arms, the Svartian curled into him, his face buried in Artem’s neck and deeply inhaling his scent. Artem’s face was most likely a deep red by now, trying to ignore Vyn’s oddly affectionate touches as he carried him to his room. 
For the second time, Artem made sure that Vyn was in bed, and brought him a glass of water, preparing to leave. 
And for the second time, Vyn asked him to stay. 
And perhaps, when Vyn glared at Artem while laying on his chest, muttering insults at him, Artem couldn’t deny how fast his heart was beating. 
So much so that he found himself barely paying attention to what Vyn was saying, too focused on his face. 
“And I can’t believe you’re so oblivious that you can’t even tell I like you.”
Artem’s heart skipped a beat. 
His eyes widened, and his mouth opened with a gasp. Had he heard him right? No. There was no way. Besides, Vyn was drunk. He wasn’t thinking clearly. 
Still, some part of Artem’s mind wished he was telling the truth. 
“…What??”
“Did you not hear me? I like you, you absolutely exasperating idiot.”
…Vyn was speaking oddly clearly for a drunk man. Artem cleared his throat, looking away. He was sure that his face reflected his flustered state, as much as he tried to cover it. 
This would be a problem for when Vyn wasn’t drunk. 
This time, Vyn hadn’t kicked Artem out immediately. He had half-heartedly thanked Artem for taking care of him - in his own way, of course -, and insisted on treating him for breakfast, at the very least. 
Artem was stiff. His mind replayed the events of the last night on loop, not wanting to leave him alone. He tried his best to keep his gaze off Vyn, yet he still found himself staring more than once. Each and every time, he forced himself to look away, a blush creeping up his neck. 
Vyn must have noticed - of course he did, that’s his job -, because he eventually turned back to Artem, glaring at him with an eyebrow raised. 
“What is it?”
A beat passed. They stared at each other, Artem debating whether or not to say it. 
“You confessed to me last night.”
Another beat. Vyn swiveled around quickly, and if Artem looked closely, he could swear there was a touch of red blossoming on the Svartian’s neck. He heard him sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back at Artem. 
“I hadn’t expected to tell you so soon… Or ever, as a matter of fact.”
Vyn fully turned, his usual gaze shining with only the tiniest bit of vulnerability. Really, Artem couldn’t have noticed it unless he knew what Vyn’s look was like, and-
Oh. 
Oh. 
Perhaps now wasn’t exactly the time to be realizing how much Vyn made his heart flutter, how much he craved and longed for him. Or maybe it was. After all, Vyn was confessing to him. 
“I do have feelings for you. I’m not expecting you to reciprocate, so let’s stop talking about this.”
Vyn was about to turn back around when Artem spoke up. 
“What if… I do reciprocate?”
He froze in his steps. 
“I beg your pardon?”
Artem found himself at a loss for words. How was he to explain what he was feeling to Vyn when he had realized exactly 30 seconds ago and couldn’t understand what he felt anyway?
“I… I’m not entirely sure yet, but I believe I may have… feelings… for you as well.”
His words were slow, and Artem was sure his face was a bright red by now. Vyn scoffed. 
“You believe? Goodness, Artem… What am I going to do with you.”
Despite his words, when Artem snuck a glance at Vyn through his embarrassment, he could see a fond smile on the man’s face. He gave a smile of his own, watching Vyn step closer to him. 
As their lips pressed together, Artem realized that perhaps Rosa had been right. 
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shina913 · 2 years
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Whirr | MYG
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Whirr (one-shot)
Pairing: MYG x Fem!Reader
Rating: R-18
Genre: established!relationship; fluff; very light hints of smut
Warnings: sexual undertones; language (Vague but still slightly explicit sexual conversation. I still would not open this up for minors to interact with)
Word count: 1,275 words
Summary: A morning commute with Yoongi.
A/N: This will sound corny but this story concept just came to me in a dream last night. It was actually a two-parter--the first one was with Hobi but...that was slightly raunchier so I'm saving that for my other fic 😆 Anyway, I think I'm just missing my usual morning commute after working from home for the last 4 months.
This is un-beta'd so please excuse any redundancies or typos.
S/O to @sugafreeagustd for the tip on the right keywords so I could find this specific Yoongi for my banner.
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The crisp morning air brushes your bare cheek as you take a sip of your coffee that you held in a traveling mug. You glance up at the overhead monitors to check for train arrivals. They were on time today.
Shocker!
Shifting on your feet behind the yellow safety tiles, you clutch at the strap of your backpack with your free hand as the platform starts to get crowded.
Distantly, you feel his arm circle your waist, beckoning you to move closer to where he stood. “Hey, let’s scoot down this way to give them some room,” he says softly.
You look up to see a family with a stroller and you awkwardly move aside. They nod in gratitude
“You seemed a little spaced out back there”
You chuckled and gave him a small smile. “Sorry…just got a lot of stuff in my mind,” you took another sip of your coffee.
“Not thinking about last night, are you?” he says with a cheeky grin.
Growing flustered and nearly choking on your coffee, you look around to make sure that nobody else heard.
You hear him snort while you wipe up the bit of coffee that’s dripped down to your chin. Smiling, you then sidle up closer to him, lacing your fingers in his. “Of course. I think you made sure that I wouldn’t forget about it for a while.”
You bit down on your lip while he eyed you with the same look of hunger from last night and earlier this morning. You barely made it to your regular train schedule.
“Don’t do that,” he said with a hint of warning. You grinned and gave him a quick peck on his lips, diffusing his urge to drag you back to the parking lot and into your car to rectify the situation.
Seconds later, you feel a gust of wind blow past you. You see his hair fall to his eyes, whipping in the same direction, signaling the oncoming train cars. You watched him brush it away from his face to tuck it behind his ear. He held it there a bit longer until the train came to a full stop at the platform.
When the doors open, you let the family with the stroller step into the car before you proceeded. You scanned the car for open seats and found two empty ones next to each other. You let go of his hand for just a moment to settle into the seat by the window. Across from you, sat an older woman who was busy with her knitting.
Lots of people busied themselves with a variety of activities to pass the time during the long commute. You had the standard smartphone zombies whose ears were plugged with headphones or earbuds; then you had riders who read; and a few who were snoozing because they either barely got out of bed this morning or were just getting off their graveyard shift.
Typically, you either stared out the window, if you were lucky enough to score a seat next to it or joined the smartphone zombies. These days, since Yoongi’s office got transferred, you shared a morning commute and it felt nice to spend some time just being present before you both got sucked into your busy days.
After he settles into the seat next to you, he rests his hand on your knee–that small patch of bare skin where the hem of your skirt stopped. His thumb grazing your kneecap gave you butterflies.
Once the train doors shut, you feel the motor whirr over the rails as it pushes past the station, traveling towards the next stop.
“So…I have a meeting right when I get in; a client call after that; then I have to sketch out some ideas for that Toolkit.”
He rubbed his eyes from underneath his glasses but still listened attentively while you rattle off your impossible to-do list for the day. “Mm-hmm.”
You look out the window and sigh. “I don’t know how my boss expects me to get through all that and then expect to write some copy for two other campaigns today,” you grumbled.
Seconds later, you feel him squeeze your thigh reassuringly. His tone seemed nonchalant but it was comforting to you. “Just take it one task at a time. Do what you can. Whatever you can’t finish, pick it up again tomorrow.”
You groaned. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re always so chill.” Admittedly, you easily blanched whenever anything or anybody threw you off your set routine. You’d dwell on the stress and bitch about it to help you feel better while he was the calm and collected one in the relationship. Somehow, it was a perfect balance.
He chuckled softly. “And you’re a workaholic. Sometimes, you need to step back a bit–it’ll give you a new perspective.”
You turned your head to him and stared at his profile. He was looking down at his phone screen, scrolling through emails casually. He feels your eyes on him and returns your gaze.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” He cocked an eyebrow at you.
You smiled. “No. I’m just happy you have enough chill for both of us, because clearly, I have none.”
He smiled back, leaning in closer to you. “Yeah, you do. But you just like the thrill of being agitated sometimes.”
You jerked your neck back and frowned at him. “I do not,” you scoffed in protest.
His gummy smile was in full-force now. “Yes, you do,” he repeats. He leans in again and whispers directly in your ear. “I especially like using it to my advantage when I go down on you.”
You gasp, shooting a panicked look at the old lady who sat across from you. She continues her knitting, smiling warmly at you, indicating that she didn’t hear Yoongi’s lewd comments. You turn and smack him playfully on his arm.
“Hmm, that’s right—I like when you do that, too,” he said quietly before you both fall into a fit of muffled giggles. In between laughs, he curls his arm around you, pulling you closer towards him. You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder and he dipped lower to kiss your hair.
You stayed like this for the next couple of stops, before it was time for him to get up so he wouldn’t have to spend time wading through the crowd of passengers to exit on the platform.
On the second to last stop, he withdraws his arm and clutches his messenger bag that held his laptop. He turns his attention to you and squeezes your hand.
“Hey, don’t worry too much about your list. Perspective, hm?” He looks at you and smiles in earnest.
You purse your lips for a bit then give him a half-hearted smile. “I guess.”
“Just text or call me if you’re having trouble, ‘kay? You know I’ll always answer.”
Hearing that loosened the knot in your stomach. “I will. Thank you,” you say softly.
He glances up at the overhead train map monitor and sees his stop approaching. “Have a good day, huh?”
“You, too. See you tonight.” You lean in and he meets you halfway for a gentle, lingering kiss.
“Love you.”
“Love you, too, Yoongi.”
He slides his bag’s strap over his shoulder, adjusts his glasses then stands up. He carefully walks towards the doors, all the while, holding onto the railings in case the train makes a sudden stop.
When the train slows at his platform, he gives you one last side-glance and a smile before he steps out of the open train doors and walks off to work.
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Main Fic Masterlist
You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!
If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it 💜
Tagging: @deepseavibez @internetjunkdrawer @itdoesntmatterwhy
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footnotesandendings · 11 months
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I don't know if anyone is interested in nattering about writing process but there's some behind the cut.
So there is a Ted Lasso OT3 fic that I started probably... last fall? Possibly last summer. I stalled out on it sometime early this year and it's just been sitting. I revived it for a bit right before the season but then got distracted again. But today I pulled up the file and really looked at it and I think I do want to finish and post it... because it is currently 41k and the idea of just leaving that in my WIP folder forever is annoying. (Not that it would be alone. I have bandom fics and hockey fics north of 35k that died unfinished. But it's still annoying.)
As it stands now I have about four or five scenes that need to be written, and experience says that in the process of writing those two or three more will probably happen. I know I need to go back and add at least two scenes earlier in the body of the story. When I go through and do my big re-read for shape there might be more I decide are needed, or expansions of existing ones. In that re-read, I'll also have to evaluate how much work it would take to make it s3 compliant, and decide if I want to do that or if I want to post it as a canon divergent AU.
And then a last re-read for small errors and mechanical stuff; I'll get most of that during the big re-read/re-write stage but I try to take a last look, unless I am simply too tired of the story at that point, in which case I post it as-is and wait for either people to tell me or to notice it in a random scroll through and the associated agony of shame. I don't get stuff formally beta'd anymore due to personal failings.
I would like to get this done this month because I could post it to the June Doom challenge (hurt/comfort and/or whump), because it fits several of the prompts. But I'm trying not to push myself too hard because that usually doesn't go well.
Anyway if I do get it done I have a couple of football RPF fics that also fit June Doom prompts but honestly idk if getting two big fics done in a month is possible at this point. Yes, I did it at least once or twice when I was in my first flush of Ted Lasso fandom energy, but I don't have that kind of propulsion right now.
So! If you read all that, thank you. Writing down the plan is helpful for wrapping my brain around it.
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stellamancer · 9 months
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bff I want to know 3 and 6 <3
BFF SERA. PSYCHIC LINK BESTIE. thank you for asking!
I'm using a read more cuz i ended up rambling.
3) Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic
So, I think it's a little different for a single chapter versus a fic as a whole. For a whole fic, it usually starts with a concept or a scene. We'll take shine on the sea as an example here: the concept was mermaid in a bathtub and then I'll build around the concept. I usually think of some key scenes that I really want and to happen and then bridge the spaces between.
For individual chapters, it's a little more dry, I think since the concept is already there. I think about what is supposed to happen in the chapter and it's kind of going from point a to point d, making sure to pass b and c.
Regardless of the process, I tend to not to go too in-depth in planning to allow for... some spontaneity in the story. I don't think you read it, but in the last big one-shot I did, hey lonely stranger, I didn't plan the ending at all. LMAO. It's fun (but stressful) to pants it sometimes.
6) Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?
Yes, probably like.... 90% of my stuff is beta read by my most beloved and dedicated beta reader (stuff that isn't is usually the super short stuff).
It's super important, especially because like, I'm really particular about making sure my characterization is right LMAO. It's my number one biggest concern, and even after my beta reads stuff I'm still a bit nervous LMAOOO. Actually, Sera, you've given me the space to ramble about this (again probably), but when I started reading and was gearing up to write jjk stuff, my beta reader was like 'oh should i read it too so I can keep beta reading your stuff?' I told him he didn't have to, but he did it anyway LOL. He's very dedicated (he's also my boyfriend so like LMAOOO).
This is an aside, but I used dread the thought of having my work get beta read, like I was afraid I'd get told it's garbage LOL. But asking the same person to do it every time makes it less scary, it's a little fun too because he'll usually do it when I'm in the room and we get to discuss a little LMAO.
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heretostealyogirl · 9 months
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@mayuris-basement-dweller eeeee thank you so much for the tag!!
I've been on AO3 for years as a reader but only recently as a proper writer, although those of you who've been following me long enough might remember my old Star Trek DS9 fic from a few years ago that I started on a whim and ended up abandoning after like 4 chapters LMAO. Anyway, you can find me under the same name as here on tumblr :>
Oh yeah. LOTS of smut.
I used to rp on roblox for fun when I was a bit younger and spent years doing more serious rps with my ex before we split. We did all sorts of fandoms and OCs and it was really fun and really really useful for OC personality/backstory development. I really miss it tbh :/
Nothing I post is beta'd lol
*glances at my 60k+ words self-insert OOT Ganondorf x reader slow burn romance fic* ..........yeah.
ALWAYS. Fluff is good shit.
95% of all the romance/smut I've ever written was queer in some way
Not currently, but definitely in the past. Some previous fandoms I've written for include: Transformers, FNAF, Spiderman (Tom Holland movies), Star Trek DS9, and Subnautica!
Oh yes, always. I usually go through several iterations of the outline that progressively get more detailed before taking the final outline and using that as the skeleton for the fic itself. It's taken a long time and a lot of trial and error to get my writing technique down, but this method works very well for me.
Oh god it is SO nervewracking. I hate it, but the anxiety just makes it even more gratifying when I do get the feedback (and/or kudos)
Too many to count.
I mostly edit and format as I go along, but lemme tell you, getting the hoverboxes to work on AO3 the other day was such a pain!!
That's the main reason why I keep my phone near me at night. I've told myself far too many times that I'll just remember and write it down in the morning, only to wake up and remember that I had an idea, but not what the idea was.
...please?
15. I wouldn't want it to be my main job, but I would LOVE to be a properly published author one day.
Currently I'm only writing for the Legend of Zelda, specifically my BOTW AU and the aforementioned OOT self-insert fic.
I don't really know any other fanfic writers off the top of my head so uhhhh anyone who sees this and wants to join, consider yourself tagged!
Tysm again for the tag <3 <3
(Template under the cut)
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dxncingwithastrxnger · 6 months
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baby, we're just reckless kids - Part 1 (Inotan)
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A/N: Hello!! So sorry that this is so late, I didn't mean for it to be!! I've been pretty busy these past couple of days, plus, in my free time, I was very much distracted binge-reading this tarzan-inspired Inotan fic on ao3 that's soooooo good, I'm almost done with it. It's called Wildflowers, I highly recommend it. If you can't find it and would like the link, just lemme know!! Anyways, here's the story for day 4!! I'm hoping to get at least day 5 also posted today since today is day 6 and then I'll only be a day behind, not two, lmao. Day 5 is actually gonna be a continuation/part 2 to this, though it is gonna mostly be smut, so watch out for that if you'd like to read it!!
Pairing(s): Inosuke x Tanjiro, Zenitsu x Nezuko (mentioned)
Prompt: Day 4: Domestic
Summary: Tanjiro and Inosuke enjoy a sweet, soft morning together in their brand new home before taking themselves to the pet store and picking up some new family members.
Tag(s): Aged up characters, fluff, a slight bit of spice at the beginning, but it's not really much at all, just a lil makeout session that doesn't last very long
Word Count: 1,990
Song Inspiration: Lights Down Low By MAX
Not beta'd, all mistakes are my own.
~*~
[Author Masterlist]
[Read on AO3]
~*~
It’s officially been about a week since Tanjiro and Inosuke moved in together, three months since they started dating and about four months since they first met. Today, the two of them are hoping to adopt a pet together, something the two of them had been talking about for a few weeks now, ever since they’d officially found a house.
Zenitsu claims they’re moving too fast, no matter how many times Tanjiro explains to him that different couples go at different paces depending on their own boundaries and how they work as people in general, both together and separately. While Nezuko and Zenitsu have been dating for five years now and only reached the “I love you” stage around a year ago, here Tanjiro and Inosuke are, sharing the same space and home and already expressing their feelings of love on a daily basis and not even half a year has passed yet.
And Tanjiro is aware that it’s quite soon compared to how people usually do things, but he also knows that it feels exactly right for the two of them. I mean, it just suits how the two of them are as people. Inosuke is someone who charges in without hesitation, goes after what he wants right away, and doesn’t let anyone else dictate his actions. On the other hand, Tanjiro is the most patient person in the world when need be, but knows how to be extremely selfish with what he wants when he knows it’s okay to do so and he spends most of his time just going with the flow, taking whatever the universe throws at him and then whatever Inosuke throws at him as well.
The two of them compliment each other perfectly, Tanjiro believes. They can read each other so well and when they’re in the same space, more often than not, they end up perfectly in sync. He’s never met another person that suits him so well. That can know what he wants before he asks, know what he needs before he even knows himself, can pick up on each of his emotions and knows exactly how he expresses them, knows how to respond to them without him having to explain a single thing to the other man. It’s incredibly freeing. That’s how Inosuke makes him feel. Free.
And now he’s waking up beside the man, bright red eyes opening and immediately finding bright green ones already staring at him. “Morning.” Inosuke says quietly, his voice gruffer than usual due to sleep.
Tanjiro leans forward to press his forward against the other man’s. “Morning.” He says just as quietly, closing his eyes and smiling as he basks in the warmth surrounding him from the sunlight peeking through the crack in the curtains, the large comforter covering his body, and his boyfriend’s strong arms holding him close.
“Someone slept well last night.” Inosuke says teasingly, leaning forward to close the small inch of space left between their faces and nuzzling his nose against the redhead’s cheek.
“It’s impossible not to with you here.” Tanjiro says softly, returning the action.
Inosuke makes a small, happy noise and brings one of his hands up from the other man’s waist to place it on his cheek instead and then he’s moving his lips to the side in order to brush them against Tanjiro’s. The red-haired man sighs happily, melting further into the mattress beneath him as he presses himself closer to Inosuke and returns the almost kiss.
They do that a few more times, brushing lips and tangling their bodies together even more than before, trying to be as close as possible. Tanjiro has one hand on the side of Inosuke’s face, fingertips touching his black-blue hair, while his other hand is placed on the man’s muscular shoulder. Inosuke’s hand on his cheek had moved down in order to rest against the side of his neck instead, his thumb brushing back and forth against Tanjiro’s jaw, and his other hand is holding his side, the arm attached to it wrapped around his waist tightly.
Finally, their lips connect fully, no more simple brushes. But even then, every single action is soft, sweet, and slow, like they have all the time in the world to just lay here in each other’s arms and show their affections. Their lips move in sync, just like they always do, and when Inosuke tentatively runs his tongue along the seam of Tanjiro’s lips, he’s more than happy to welcome the dark-haired man in.
His boyfriend lets out a sigh that turns into a soft, subtle moan and Tanjiro can’t help but return the noise as their tongues roll together lazily. He starts a slow, languid exploration of the other’s mouth and receives the same in return, the two of them just enjoying the taste of the other and the feel of their bodies pressed together. Eventually, hands started moving, tender, affectionate touches being exchanged, and when both of their bodies started to fill with heat and hands started to wander past what’s acceptable for simple affection, they pulled away, eyes opening and observing each other.
Inosuke’s face is flushed deep pink, as he’s sure his own is, and his pupils are dilated, what’s still visible of the green seeming deeper somehow. The man’s lips are dark, swollen, and very obviously chewed on, a bit of saliva on them. Tanjiro is certain he doesn’t look much different. Usually in a moment like this, the pause between them would be a “we aren’t ready to go farther than this” kind of pause, but he felt that it was different this time. This time, it felt more like a “we’ll continue this at a later time” kind of pause, which is confirmed by the look in Inosuke’s eyes, a desire and need that Tanjiro feels low in his gut. Yes. Not right now, but later. They silently communicated such a promise before untangling from each other in order to gain some breathing room.
“We should make some breakfast.” Inosuke speaks up, stretching his entire body before sitting up. Tanjiro follows his lead, agreeing with his suggestion
~*~
When discussing what animal they wanted to get as a pet, they decided on cats. Cats, as long as there’s more than one of them, are usually pretty low maintenance, meaning that when both of them are at work for the day, there’s not much to worry about as long as the animals have all of their necessities available to them. Plus, they both just really enjoy cats. Inosuke is always talking about how fascinating they are and Tanjiro can’t help but agree.
Walking into the pet store, Tanjiro can’t help but smile, taking Inosuke’s hand in his and entwining their fingers together. They’d already called ahead and informed one of the store employees that they were on their way and what they were wanting to do, which is meet their kittens, so all they had to do was go up to the counter and let them know that they’re the ones who had just called.
One of the people behind the counter smiles kindly and leads them to a back room where about a dozen different kittens are playing together. “You can sit and play with them for a little bit, see which one you like the most.” He tells them.
“Thank you.” Tanjiro nods to him as the man stays by the door before walking over to sit near Inosuke in the center of the room. Upon first glance, just by look alone, he immediately has his eye on a kitten with long, reddish-orange fur who’s currently attempting to climb the wall. He then chuckles to himself as he watches a brown, striped kitten walk up and paw at the other one, as if they’re trying to get the one climbing to get down.
“Babe.” Inosuke speaks up after a few minutes. “I’ve been claimed.” He says as the redhead turns to look at him. Tanjiro bursts into giggles. Sitting on Inosuke’s head is a gray kitten with crystal blue eyes, sitting straight with their little nose pointed upwards as if they’re proud of their current sitting spot. It’s easy to tell that Inosuke is being very careful not to disturb the kitten, keeping his head completely balanced.
“You’ve been claimed?” Tanjiro questions, an eyebrow raised and his voice filled with an amused tone.
“He came right up to me and headbutted my leg, so then I knocked him over onto his side. Then he ran around behind me and pounced on my back, climbed up to my shoulder, and headbutted the side of my head. So then I put him back on the ground and knocked him over again. Then he did the same exact thing except he just kept climbing until he was on my head, and now he’s just there.” Inosuke explains to him.
“So, you’ve been claimed.” Tanjiro states rather than asks.
“I’ve been claimed.” The dark-haired man repeats, closing his eyes and looking rather pleased with himself.
He grins at his boyfriend before pointing across the room at the kittens he’s been watching. “And what do you think of those two?” He asks.
Inosuke opens his eyes and follows the direction of his finger, spotting the two kittens right as the reddish-brown one tackles the striped, brown one, the two of them rolling around. Inosuke chuckles a little as he watches the wrestling match. “You thinkin’ both of ‘em?” He asks, raising an eyebrow slightly.
Tanjiro shrugs. “I mean, maybe. Unless that’s too many?” He asks hesitantly, looking back at him.
Inosuke’s face softens and he shakes his head just slightly, smiling. “Not at all. Let’s get all three.” He says. Tanjiro lights up immediately, eyes sparkling with excitement as Inosuke waves to the worker still at the door to the room.
He walks over and smiles, eyes flicking to the kitten still on Inosuke’s head for a moment before looking back at their faces. “Have you guys decided who you’ll be taking home today?” He asks.
“Yes!” Tanjiro confirms as Inosuke grins.
“Definitely taking this lil’ one.” Inosuke says, reaching up and pulling the kitten off his head in order to hold the animal instead, even while the kitten struggles and tries to get out of his arms, to which Inosuke just coos and nuzzles his face against the soft gray fur.
“And then those two, the striped and the reddish-orange.” Tanjiro says, pointing the two of them out.
“Wonderful!” The man says. “Those three usually get along great, so that’s something you won’t need to worry about.” He informs them, walking over to pick up the other two, separating their wrestling match. “This red-orange guy and the little gray you have over there are boys and this striped one is a girl. All three of them are about eight weeks old.”
Tanjiro stands as the man is talking to them, Inosuke following suit. “That’s great.”
Nodding, the man holds both of the other kittens out to Tanjiro. “Would you like to hold them while I go get a carrier for you to take these little ones home in?” He asks, to which Tanjiro nods eagerly and takes both of them from him, holding them close. The man then walks past them and out of the room.
Inosuke steps right in front of Tanjiro, holding the gray kitten right between the other two. The gray kitten calms down instantly once he notices the presence of the others and Inosuke and Tanjiro laugh softly as both of the kittens Tanjiro is holding start to groom the one Inosuke is holding, proving the employee’s words about the three getting along. Tanjiro then looks up to find Inosuke already staring at him, his bright, green eyes sparkling with joy. As soon as they lock eyes, Inosuke leans in to press a gentle, loving kiss against his lips and Tanjiro returns the affection happily.
~*~
A/N: Please lemme know what you think!!! The second part is gonna be a continuation of this taking place on the same day, in which Inosuke and Tanjiro have that later time that they agreed upon in the beginning of the fic ;) I hope you enjoyed this!! I'm starting to pick up a habit of ending fics/fic chapters with kisses, whoops
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buffintruder · 1 year
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from the ask game: 6, 10 and 11!
Thank you!! From this ask game
6. Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?
I think it's usually important, but not essential. If I have a friend in the fandom who is up for it, I'll probably ask them to beta like 80-90% of what I write in that fandom. But I've posted many fics (probably more than half? I'm not sure) without a beta. There are some fics where I'm really uncertain about something and I will really want someone else to go over it to tell me if it's actually a problem or not, and if so what exactly is off about it.
But usually I think, it's mostly just nice for me to be able to talk about my fic with someone, both to get ideas and stuff but also just for fun.
10. Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up
"Manga is art," Sonoza said.  Sonoi blinked. "Is it?"
From my Donbrothers fic where a nonhuman guy tries to understand how art and emotions tie together, along with his friends girl who is obsessed with understanding love and guy who is obsessed with manga (also his rival who is the sun to his moon and the sky to his sea)
11. Link your three favorite fics right now
Okay I have a very specific list of 3 fics that make me feel certain emotions I can't get elsewhere, and idk if all three of them are really my most favorite fics, but they do go as a set so I'm reccing them together (even though once I started looking through my bookmarks to find these fics, I kept finding more fics that are so so so good and I would be here all day if I didn't stick to this trio)
Cornstalk Fiddle by notbecauseofvictories
I rec this to literally everyone because I think it is one of the top 10 works of fiction in general that I have encountered. It's a fic of the song The Devil Went Down to Georgia (so very little context necessary) and it's a really really beautifully written story about music and hope and life, and also a very human person falling in love with the very inhuman Devil
We Must Tend our Garden by DesdemonaKaylose
This is a Small Gods post-canon Discworld fic about the god Om being in love with his head priest Brutha. The dialogue and narration feel very Discworld while also having a sort of peacefulness and heartbreaking yearning that isn't really Terry Pratchett's thing, and it works together so well.
Of Uruk by electrumqueen
This is a pre-canon Bartimaeus fic and idk exactly how to describe it. It's basically a character study between the djinni Bartimaeus and a boy he once loved, Ptolemy, though 5 different scenarios where over the course of them knowing each other Bartimaeus tells Ptolemy his "origin story" (different from his story of being created), each with varying amounts of truth to them. It's just such a good story about names and the way other people in the past and present can shape you and how you tell a story impacts it but also what it says about you and your audience, and I wish Bartimaeus was a more popular series just so they could read this fic (that's a lie, I think it the series should be popular for it's own merit, but anyway)
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waterloou · 1 year
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1-8 50-60
1. Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?
Honestly it depends on my mood but with one shots it’s gonna be done and multi chaptered…I have never wrapped up a story in my life I’ll say that
2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?
They are small bullet points that come to me in a dream and then it takes me 5 months to write it
3. Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic
Spotify, art, Pinterest
.
.
.
Planning? Freewrite of ideas I had that made me want to write it?
.
.
Writing?
4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?
Literally anywhere. Songs, books, movies, mangas, historical interests, shows, Pinterest, tumblr
5. Do you like constructive criticism?
If it’s done well and I ask for it. I’m usually p tough on myself. I trust a handful of ppl to do it right
6. Do you have your work beta'd? How important is this to your process?
I show all my work to my friends usually before I post it but like them helping edit it? Ehh, depends on if I’m stuck writing it or not. I write mostly (but not always) for myself anyways so if I don’t hate it I’ll post it. But if it’s for someone else? I’ll def have someone look over it
7. How do you choose which POV to write from?
Whoever I kin more (jk) usually whoever is being affected the most I believe. Or if I’m enamored with another character idk. It really depends
8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?
Beginning bc I cannot for the life of me write a middle or end
50. How long is your longest fic?
17,099 and I won’t say which one bc I don’t associate with that fandom anymore
51. What’s your total AO3 word count?
102,228
52. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?
Yes but I am v slow at it bc I reread them and I keep them unread so I surprise myself when I look into my inbox
53. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?
65/35 reader/writer
54. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?
Planning and creating before writing
55. Of the characters you write for, which is your favorite? Has that choice been swayed at all by your followers/readers’ reactions to certain ones?
Theo but honestly I feel myself being swayed by Jesper and Wylan but I also loved writing Joly and Combeferre and Courfeyrac and Loftus but ummm yeah I am not a decision maker
56. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?
Period pieces idk I just like how I write for them it’s also fun
57. Do you prefer editing as you write, or waiting until it’s finished? 
As I write but that’s also why I take so long to post or I don’t post half of what I write
58. What part of the writing process do you enjoy the most? (Brainstorming, outlining, writing, editing, etc) 
BRAINSTORM BRAINSTORM
59. Does anyone in your personal life know you write fic? if not, would you tell anyone?
Absolutely. A LOT of them do I just don’t tell them details
60. Have you had a writer you admire comment on your fic? What was that like?
Yes 🥰🥰🥰
Thrilling and then I make them my friend bc they’re usually all sweethearts and geniuses
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rockinlibrarian · 6 months
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Very late with the happy-fic-writer game, but: 7 and 12!
HEyyyyy! I'm always up for an ask or two! This refers to this one, here, posted a week ago, which isn't THAT long ago so join in!
7. What do you love most about being a fic writer for your fandom?
As I said here (and answered the question in a slightly different way), I'm a multi-fandom writer-- which @steeple-sinderby has first-hand experience with, being that she's gamely beta'd everything from "our shared fandom but not my ship" fics to "I know absolutely nothing about the source material of this fic-that-is-nothing-but-inside-jokes-about-the-source-material" fics (oh, I think there was ONE CHAPTER of an actual "gen fic in our shared fandom"! Amazing!) (also have to throw in the "absurd RPF of several fandoms I know vaguely enough" because that took guts, too!)
And anyway, I like being multi-fandom, because I can take pretty much any idea and start to run with it. That makes for lots and lots of fics started that MAY never get completed (never say never!)! In the past week I have started three different fics in three different fandoms, only one of which I've ever written in before and that with different characters, too, and one of which probably isn't even properly a "fandom" but a work that just makes a good writing prompt. One is just pure crack I started when we finished reading a book and @sunnymarbles said "But I want to know about [insert throwaway detail that's-not-even-a-plot-point]!" and I said "That's what fanfic is for!" and I did a search on AO3 and while there were indeed several fics for the book series itself, nobody HAD explored throwaway-detail-that's-not-even-a-plot-point, so I felt compelled to do it myself. I have one paragraph, and a vague idea for a bit more plot, and if WHEN I ever finish it I'll be sure to share it!* Probably no knowledge of canon needed, because it's crack. At least compared to what other people have posted in the fandom.
*@sunnymarbles, I've been meaning to share it with you long before that, so you can help me brainstorm, but it's been a busy week. Ask me when you get home.
No I lied, it's short, here is the entirety of what I have written for this:
The moose of the Green Mountains knew to avoid the place they called the Unstable Slope, or “oooOOOOOOoooo” in their native tongue. Ninety generations had passed since the first BoomQuakes broke the mountain, and still young moose were warned away, despite tales of a mythical lake that appeared suddenly there for several years, only to just as suddenly dry up again.
(If you can name the source material from that, you get a point! It's a YA mystery series. Those are your hints).
Anyway, let's move on.
12. What is your favorite theme/subject matter/trope/ship to write about? Why?
How They Became Friends. This occasionally branches off into "How They Fell In Love" or "How One of Them Learned The Other's Secret(s)" or "How They Got Into THAT Mess," but it all stems from How They Became Friends, which is the theme/trope I've been writing on since I pretty much started writing at the age of seven. I guess it was a kind of fantasy-self-insert writing that happened to be original fiction instead of fic, because I was a really lonely kid, and I'd noted that when people were forced into An Adventure together, it brought them closer. Because, you know, it skipped over all that boring Small Talk and Faking Interest In the Latest Fad that real life friend-making seemed to require. So it was that every story I wrote for the first few years of my life involved Me and Some People I Knew In Real Life stumbling into an Adventure (usually involving fantasy elements because I needed all the non-mundane help I could get).
It stuck, even when I started actually making real friends without the aid of portals to other dimensions. It's a theme that lends itself to fanfic naturally, because media is FULL of established relationships to wonder about the beginnings of, and you don't necessarily have to worry too much about plot when you write fanfic. It can BE simply 800 words of "This is How They Became Friends" with bonus time travel complications.
This probably loops back to why I'm a multi-fandom writer, because there's only so many times you can introduce the characters to each other per fandom. I say while a full 10 of my 19 posted Legion fics manage to fall under this theme umbrella, and those only really covering the friendships of four of the many characters. Yay multiple timelines!
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toasterdrake · 2 months
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hey, sorry to bother you, but i was wondering if you would be up to beta-ing more of that LOTR college AU? I get this is kinda out of left field, but I don't have any tolkien mutuals to read over it, and you seemed like you liked it?
Again, no pressure or anything, but I would love to have someone to show it to before posting (and it might motivate me to actually write lol)
Anyway, whether you want to beta or not, I'm so so thankful for your support of the snippet I put up :]
oml i would be absolutely delighted! i don't have much experience but i have beta'd for a hobbit fic before. i'm a college student so i don't have a ton of free time, but my evenings and weekends are usually clear. i will warn that i'm english so our language quirks may differ lol
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