#coming back to the office and seeing him passed out on the floor sucked though-

[silverselfshippingchaos]

nvm this game is ass again /j

[muchosbesitos]

BODY PAINT

the plan was just to get a tattoo for your birthday. so far so good. but how’d you end up getting eaten out too?

FEATURING: tattoo artist! geto suguru x female reader

CONTENTS: non canon compliant/au, pierced/tattooed geto, cunnilingus, hair pulling (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, doggy, pet names (pretty girl, cutie, etc.), finger sucking, spanking (once), creampie, kinda maybe perchance public sex(?)

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: anotha repost so if you’ve seen this b4, no you haven’t 😓

Portraits and portraits of art pieces covering the walls welcomed you as you stepped inside, the jingle of the bell perched on the front announcing your entrance. From dragons to variations of skulls—some with roses, lightning, and a couple of the grim reaper. You could easily lose yourself looking at all the different works, staring at how all the different lines came together and how the colors melded into one another.

“What're you looking for today?" A low baritone voice interrupted your brief exploration of the parlor. You turned to see a man standing at the counter with pigtails, a black line going across his nose and a couple piercings scattered across his pale face. How was it that you'd missed him upon walking inside?

"I was thinking about getting a tattoo, do you guys happen to accept walk-ins?" You responded, coming up to the counter where the man was standing. Choso, from what his name tag read. "We do, our current tattoo artist's busy though. You mind waiting about.. twenty minutes?"

You supposed it wasn't too bad after showing up without an appointment so you just simply nodded, going over to take a seat in the lobby. There was only one other person sitting on the end of the black sofa, their attention purely on the show playing on the TV mounted on the wall. You went from playing with your fingers to looking over at the TV, attempting to do anything that would make these twenty minutes pass by.

"Hey, go ahead and fill this out. And let me see your ID," Choso came back with a sheet of paper, a consent form. You fished for your ID in the back pocket of your jeans before handing it over to him, starting out with the task of filling out the paper. Signing your initials where it asked you to, reading through the different medical conditions that the paper explicitly listed out.

Your foot bounced against the floor as you waited, sudden nerves starting to hit you all at once now that you were in here. You knew that you wanted a tattoo, you'd been looking forward towards getting it for a few months now. But the little nagging voice inside your head told you that you could barely tolerate a needle at the doctor's office, and that was only for a couple seconds in of itself. How would you tolerate almost an hour of it?

A woman walked out from the back of the parlor, a tattoo of what seemed to be her birth year wrapped up in cling wrap. But your attention was quickly diverted to the man coming out after her—though, you supposed it would be hard not to stare at him. He was absolutely.. gorgeous. Long dark black hair that practically seemed to shine underneath the harsh lights tied back in a half bun, eyebrow and snake bites piercings accentuating the features of his face, and dark ink adorning his forearms.

"Here's the aftercare sheet, just shoot me a text or something if you have any concerns or anything," the man told the woman before she stepped away from the counter, handing her a white paper. The jingle of the bell echoed behind her as she left, leaving only the four of you alone in the lobby. Maybe this wasn't who Choso was talking about? You couldn't picture yourself or your panties for that matter lasting hours in a room with him.

Though, you probably should've expected as much with your luck.

"You got time for a walk-in?" Choso spoke up, nudging his head towards you when the other man was finished pocketing his tip. The man glanced over at you before pulling his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through it for a couple seconds. "Yeah, I got time," the other man walked over, standing in front of you before extending a hand out, "Geto Suguru." The coldness from the silver rings adorning each of his fingers was a stark difference from how warm his hand seemed to be. You gave him your name, stopping the handshake before it prolonged more than it should've.

More than it already did.

"So, what type of tattoo were you looking for?" Geto pushed his hands in his pockets, standing back to allow for you to get up from the spot. "I'm not too sure how to describe it, but I have a reference photo, if that's okay?" You told him, getting your phone out to go back to your camera roll. "Yeah, that's fine. Just airdrop to me when you find it."

The smell of antibacterial spray filled your nose as you stepped in, the room somehow been more decorated than the one outside. Geto had a couple of his designs up on the wall along with a couple band posters—Nirvana, Iron Maiden, and Led Zeppelin being some of the more prominent ones. A couple figures placed on a shelf, photos decorating them as well.  "Go on and take a seat. I'll be right there," he told you, opening up one of his drawers.

You took a seat on the leather chair in the middle of the chair, leaning against it before looking over to see what he was doing. "So.. how bad is it supposed to hurt?" You decided to ask, bracing yourself for the worst answer that he could give you. Despite the fact that you knew arm tattoos weren't all that painful from the two hours of research you'd done. "I can't give you a straightforward answer since not everyone has the same pain tolerance. But I'll walk you through the process before I start."

"The first thing I'm gonna do is shave your arm," Geto started off, opening up a pack of razors in front of you. Almost like he wanted to reassure you that everything he was using was new. "Around what area do you want the tattoo?" You opened your arm, gesturing around your inner forearm. Geto shaved the hair around the middle, wiping the residue away with a tissue.

"Next thing I'm gonna do is rub some alcohol on there and put on this cream," he brought up a small container into your line of vision, "It's not numbing cream before you get any ideas. Just so the stencil sticks." The rest of the process had gone relatively fast, the smell of rubbing alcohol filling up the space between the two of you. Geto placed the stencil on your arm, looking over at you to gauge your reaction. "Is this placement okay or do you want me to change it? Don't hesitate to ask, since y'know.. it is kinda permanent."

After a couple minutes of deliberation, Suguru placed the stencil where you’d decided. "So I'm gonna go ahead and put the needle on your arm just to go ahead and see if you can tolerate it," the machine whirred to life with the press of a button, "If you don't think you can tolerate it, just let me know and I'll wipe off the stencil." Geto turned around to face you, the buzzing of the tattoo gun getting louder the closer it got to your arm. All the nerves that you'd felt earlier seemed so silly now. While you felt the pressure of the needle , it was nothing like the excruciating pain you'd heard others have.

You cleared your throat before looking back over at him again, "Yeah, I can handle it." Suguru simply nodded, uncapping the bottle of black ink before almost filling up the small container in front of him. He arranged the small containers almost perfectly aligned to each other, the small work space that he'd set in front of him looking meticulous. Even the napkin that he'd grabbed was neatly folded up in three squares.

You'd almost wished that it was Choso doing the tattoo instead. Because, this, well this simply just wasn't fair. It wasn't fair how he managed to look so goddamn pretty just doing the most menial of tasks. The almost intoxicating scent of amber from his cologne filling up your senses with how close he was. You weren't sure if was better or worse for you that he didn't notice just how affected you were, of how much his presence alone was making you want to ditch the whole idea of getting a tattoo.

"You need something to help you relax? I got a couple stress balls hanging around or I could play something on the TV if you want," Suguru sat down on the rolling chair next to you, already grabbing the TV remote next to you. "Can you just play something, please?" Geto flickered through a couple of the channels available, settling on what was on the TV mounted outside. Not particularly your first choice, but enough to get your mind off the tattoo, at least.

And to get your mind off the very attractive man next to you trying to do his job.

"So, any meaning behind this tattoo or you just decided you wanted to get it?" Suguru broke the silence, though his focus was purely on tracing the piece of work in front of him. "Just saw it on Pinterest and I related to it a bit. Well, that and the design itself seemed pretty to me," you offered, staying still and keeping your attention on the TV. "I can follow the design that you showed me or I could try to improve on it. That is, if you have trust in my abilities," he spoke up after a couple seconds, purple eyes almost seeming to bore into you. 

"Can I see some of your abilities in place?" As hot as the man was—you didn't want to risk the tattoo coming out like complete dog shit. Suguru let out a short laugh, getting up from his spot before flipping through a couple drawers. He came back with a leather bound sketchbook, placing it on your lap. "I'm not much to show my works to others, but feel free to flip around if that helps you decide," you opened up the sketchbook with your available arm, immediately being greeted with a plethora of colors.

Not only were the pieces themselves better than what you could've expected, but they were so realistic. The shading of each drawing accentuating it perfectly against the lighting of the room, almost like he'd focused on that more than the actual drawing. You shut the sketchbook after flipping through a couple pages of different flowers, animals, and whatever else his brain could conjure up—handing it back to an expectant Geto. "It'd be wrong not to have faith in you after seeing that," you mused, watching him set the sketchbook aside before he went back to tracing.

"Don't worry, I'm still gonna follow the whole outline and shit. Just wanna make it look a little bit better is all," he responded, dipping the needle onto the container of black ink before bringing it back to your arm. You turned to look at much progress he'd done after the forty minute episode had ended only to realize he was just finishing up with the tip of the design. An incredibly detailed tip, though. "You okay? Don't want you passing out on me or anything."

"No, I'm fine," you reassured, going back to watching the TV in the comfortable silence that had built in the room. The only sounds emanating from the room were the soft whirring of the tattoo gun and the screaming of a couple characters on screen. "Have you watched this before?" You decided to break the silence after a while, turning to look over at him. "Something like that. Haven't watched much after the fourth season. Don't really have a buncha time available to watch TV."

The rest of the session had gone moderately well, the two of you sitting in silence for a majority of the time albeit for a couple questions that either he or you asked. He was, oddly enough, easy to talk to. "Okay, I'm gonna go in with a white paint. It's gonna hurt more than the other one so just tell me if it gets to be too much," he told you, pouring white paint into one of those small containers. And you felt the difference between the two, looking over to see him adding small marks with the white paint. Small marks that were starting to hurt like a motherfucker.

"Easy, you did so well for me throughout the session. This is nothing compared to that," Suguru spoke up, raising the tattoo gun to give you a small break. One of his gloved hands went to the furrow settled in your brow, gently easing it over before changing out the gloves for a fresh pair. You weren't even sure when you'd even started to grimace so badly. "Easy for you to say," you grumbled underneath your breath, certain that he wouldn't have caught it. But if the way his eyes shot up to look at you with a slightly amused smile was anything to go by, he did.

"You make it so hard to be nice to you," Geto muttered, turning the tattoo gun back on and going back to adding the fine white strokes. Maybe it'd been the fact that he'd offered that small bit of reassurance or maybe it was the fact that you could feel the session was starting to come to an end, but the pain didn't quite feel as bad as the first go. "Alright, we're all done," he spoke up after a couple minutes, turning the tattoo gun off and placing it on the table next to him.

"You mind if I get a couple pictures?" He waited for you to nod before setting up the ring light next to you, pulling his phone out. You extended your arm out to where he had the camera pointed, the tattoo on display. "Mm, hold on," Suguru muttered to himself, one of his hands wrapping around your wrist to adjust the angle. His touch almost seeming to linger more than necessary. Surely, all of this wasn't necessary just for a single photo, right? Especially when you weren't even the subject of said photo.

"You're gonna want to avoid shaving or waxing the area while it's still healing, some peeling's normal but just come to me if you have any concerns," he continued to explain the process of the aftercare involved, wrapping the tattoo up in cling wrap. "Try not to fuck it up," Geto led you over to the front desk, ringing you up for the price. "Wasn't it $120 and not $100?" You questioned, grabbing your wallet from your pocket.

"Consider it a birthday discount of sorts, pretty girl," the nickname spilled out so easily that you might've almost missed it. As if you needed more things to overthink about from this encounter. You handed him a hundred dollar bill with a ten dollar tip, giving him a short thanks before leaving the parlor. You looked over at the aftercare sheet that he'd given you at the counter, seeing his Instagram scrawled out in pretty decent penmanship. Well, at least you had plans for when you got back to your apartment tonight.

You knew that the tattoo was healing nicely—that you'd put the expensive ass ointment that Geto had recommended the designated three times a day. So why exactly did you find yourself standing outside the tattoo parlor once more? Out of concern for the new ink or just wanting to see Suguru once more? It couldn't be the latter, right? Not like you'd spent hours scrolling through his Instagram these last couple days to see what he'd thought about the tattoo. Definitely not the latter.

After all, he did say come to him if you had any concerns.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Choso to greet you at the counter this time around. Suguru was standing there, rearranging a couple pieces of body jewelry onto the glass display before he lifted his head to see who'd walked in the door. "You didn't let it get infected, did you? I spent hours on that thing," he didn't even bother with a greeting as Choso had done, already looking annoyed at the prospect. "Your concern for my health's endearing too."

"Yeah, yeah, what're you here for?"

"I just wanted to check up with you to see if the tattoo was healing nicely," the practiced lie slipped out of your tongue without any effort, plenty of rehearsals in your head allowing for it to slip out with any second thought.

"Alright, I have a couple minutes before my next appointment gets here," Suguru gestured for you to join him, opening the door for you. The space looked pretty much the same as the day you'd come in—which you should've expected, since it was only a week ago—albeit for a couple pencils scattered on top of a sketchbook in the middle of his desk. You took a seat on the leather chair, waiting for him to finish cleaning up his space.

Suguru grabbed a white box of gloves, grabbing a pair before placing them on. "So, what're you concerned about?" He questioned, long fingers running through your skin as he looked at how the tattoo was healing. "Well, it's been peeling a bit. I just wanted to know if that was normal or if I'm fucking something up somehow. I've been putting on the ointment you recommended three times a day."

Geto let out a small hum before leaning back on the rolling chair, folding his arms across his chest. His very muscular arms, the material of his black button down practically straining against them with the motion. "Your tattoo seems to healing well. Bit of peeling's normal as a new layer of skin comes in, nothing to worry about too much. Usually the area starts to get red if it's starting to get infected."

And maybe you should've taken that as a cue to leave. But you found yourself wanting to bask in whatever couple seconds that he would give you, unable to think about any other opportunities where you'd see him. Well, any other opportunities that didn't involve you spending upwards of a hundred dollars. You made no effort to move just yet, folding your hands over your lap. Trying to think of anything else to prolong this visit.

A couple moments of silence pass between the two of you before Suguru opens his mouth up to speak, only to get interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. "Yo, someone named Larue's here for their appointment," Choso called out from the other side, his foot tapping against the hardwood floor. Suguru gives you a glance before answering back, "Ask him to reschedule. Tell him that I'm sorry and I'll give him a discount or something."

Choso's heavy boots echoed against the floor as he walked away, leaving you alone with Geto once more. "So, tell me, what exactly is it that you're doing here again? And don't lie to me, talking about some 'I wanna see if my tattoo's healing properly,'" And you almost rolled your eyes at the way he raised his voice in pitch, mocking you with a short chuckle. Almost.

"First of all, I don't sound like that. Second, I really did just come to see if it was healing properly," And despite your words, you couldn't bring yourself to move from the chair just yet. "So maybe I should go tell Larue to come back for his appointment. Since we determined your tattoo's healing nicely, our time's done," You would've thought that he was bluffing but he moved to get up from his chair, walking over to the door.

"Wait," you called out before he managed to turn the doorknob, looking over to see him already staring at you with an expectant look on his face. Like he was about five seconds away from telling you to get off the leather chair. "So maybe, there's a slight chance that I didn't just come here just because I was concerned about my tattoo," you muttered almost reluctantly, avoiding looking at him directly.

"And why don't you try telling me why you came here instead?" Suguru stepped away from the door, returning to his spot in the seat next to you. Where you couldn't avoid looking at him even if you wanted to. How would you even begin telling him that he's been clouding your mind since last week just from that three hour interaction? That you've refreshed his Instagram page more times than you could count to see what he'd say about the piece?

You gulped, willing for the words to come out before he got the chance to go back to the door again. But you couldn't. Couldn't bring yourself to the potential humiliation that would inevitably come if you had just been delusional about this all along.

"You here because you want me to fuck you?" And the words that you'd struggled to spit out, he'd just said them so bluntly. You were expecting for him to look at you with that same mocking smile from earlier, but he seemed to be genuinely analyzing you. Waiting. "No, no, of course, I was just here to.." You hadn't quite rehearsed for this part in your mind.

"Because if you were, then I'd say that I was thinking about you too, cutie," and before you had the chance to respond, he was already speaking again, "So I'm just gonna ask you again. Are you here because you want me to fuck you?"

Now that there was little chance of your advances getting rejected, the word slipped out so easily, "Yes."

"Go on and lay back for me. Wanna taste you," and by how quick he was to get on his knees in front of you, you'd guess that he was doing this for his pleasure more than yours. "Lift up your hips," you followed his words without hesitation, letting him slide your jeans off and place them to the side. Large tattooed hands spread your thighs apart, presenting you like a feast to the man before you.

And you would've felt some ounce of embarrassment for the wet spot that quickly built up in the middle of your panties in just the five minutes of being here—if it weren't for the fact that Geto's cock was already straining against the material of his jeans. "Mph, fuck!" Geto quickly pulled your attention back to the issue at hand, his tongue prodding against your clothed cunt. "Not so loud, you don't want Choso to hear us," he clicked his tongue, giving you somewhat of a relief when he pulled away.

A very short lived relief. His tongue traced the outline of your slick folds through the material of your thin panties, his eyes closed. The tip of his tongue swirled against your clit, your cunt leaking out onto your underwear. You'd be lucky at this rate, if you could wear them back home. And almost like he'd read your mind, his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties before sliding them down to your ankles.

You waited to feel his tongue on your cunt again—but nothing came. You looked over at him, watching as he just observed your weeping pussy. "Thought you were eager to taste," you muttered, a scoff leaving from his lips. A gust of wind blowing to your cunt, your walls clenching all the much more. Eager to receive whatever he could give. "Let me admire for a bit. We got enough time," Suguru let out a small tsk after, his face in front of your cunt. And before you had the chance to say anything more—his tongue was already on your labia.

Your syrupy slick dripped onto his expecting tongue, his eyes almost rolling back at the taste. The small silver ball at the end of his tongue piercing flicked against your folds with every lick, each touch serving to have you clenching around pure air. Your hips bucked up to meet his movements, his large hands holding you down in mere seconds. "What'd I say? Let me enjoy this, pretty girl. Told you we got enough time."

"Such a tease," your grumbled words came out more breathless than you would've liked. "And you're so impatient," he retorted without missing a beat. A hushed whine escaped from your lips when you felt him pull away, his mouth moving to your inner thighs. Pressing open mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin, nibbling down just hard enough for it to leave a mark behind. "Promise I'll take care of you, sweet girl. Have some trust in my abilities."

“You say that but your abilities have been less than stellar lately."

A couple dark locks fell out of place, framing his face almost perfectly. You'd almost expected Suguru to look offended at the implication of your words—but all he did was seem to find some kind of amusement. "Guess I'll have to repair that then," he murmured, more so to your cunt than to you, his tongue prodding in and out of your entrance. "You're not doing a g-Oh fuck!" He immediately made you swallow whatever retort you were planning, his tongue penetrating inside of you. 

Suguru swiped his tongue up and down your cunt, the lower half of his face covered in a mixture of your slick and his own spit. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his nose prodding against your clit with every swipe that he made. "Keep looking at me, pretty. Keep those pretty eyes on me," you opened your eyes to see purple eyes already looking back at you, resuming his actions all too greedily. He was so messy when it came to eating you out—spitting into your cunt, watching almost all too eagerly as you clenched around the liquid.

"Please," a whine left your lips, your fingers tugging on his hair. Whatever act of defiance you'd tried to put on earlier had quickly faded away, all you were feeling was need. An almost slutty moan left his lips at the sudden tug, one of his hands grabbing on to yours. "Come on, you can pull harder, can't you?" An even louder groan escaped his lips at the harder tug you gave this time around—the tips of your fingers digging into his scalp. "Now, what were you saying please for?" His words came out muffled, his face buried in between your legs. "Your fingers, please."

"Since you asked so nicely," Suguru took to that almost immediately, two long fingers pushing past the ring of muscle before curling to hit your g-spot. His mouth instantly attached itself to your throbbing clit, pushing through your clitoral hood to get to the bundle of nerves. "F-Fuck, don't stop, don't stop," you sounded like a broken record, your thighs pressing tightly against the sides of his face while his tongue swirled around your clit.

"Gonna cum, gonna cum," any other thought that you had apart from cumming had been quickly fucked out of you, your grip on his hair tightening even further. Not that Suguru minded by any means, moaning against your cunt with every tug. The vibrations only added to the dual stimulation, your back arching off the chair. Needing to get more. Pushing your hips against his face, bucking up to meet every swipe of his tongue. "Cum for me, princess, come on. You can do it, right?"

All you could do was nod, not wanting to be any louder than you already had been. Part of you had been surprised that Choso hadn't come by knocking earlier. Suguru continued flicking his tongue around your clit, working in synchrony with his fingers to pull your orgasm out of you. "Fuck fuck, gonna cum!" You weren't sure if your muffled moan made it's way into Suguru's ears, watching as he eagerly lapped up your release. Running his tongue across his lips, your slick making them glisten under the lights.

"Get on all fours," Suguru told you after you'd managed to regain your breath, deft fingers working to unzip his jeans. You got on your stomach, resting it against the cold leather while getting on your hands and knees. And if Choso were to come into the room to be quiet now, he'd get a spectacular view of your ass perched up in the air. Suguru ran his cock against your folds, your slick lubricating it with ease after your previous orgasm.

Ridges running down his shaft brushed up against your tight walls, your slick coating his tip like second nature the further that he pushed it in. Your walls clenched and unclenched rapidly in a futile attempt to get used to the pure stretch of his cock. "You can take it, right? This isn't anything," But the sheer girth of his cock was just enough to dispute that statement, the position making him feel much deeper than he was. "Yeah, yeah, I can take it," your voice came out as a mewl, your grip on the leather getting tighter the more he pushed his cock in.

The rhythm that he started up was fairly slow at first, allowing you to get used to the feeling. Whatever he was lacking in length, he certainly compensated for it with the sheer size of his girth. Just a couple inches inside of you and he'd already stuffed you full. "Doin' so good, gonna speed up, okay?" He waited for you to nod, retracting his cock before pushing the full length inside of you with one sharp thrust. Your mouth went agape, your eyes almost rolling to the back of your head upon the impact. "So good, so so good," even after a couple thrusts, he already sounded so obsessed.

"That's ittt, that's my girl. Fuck that ass back into me," A strangled groan left his throat at the sight of your ass cheeks jiggling underneath him with every thrust, the two of you moving in tandem. One of the hands that'd been on your waist went to cup whatever he could of the flesh, all too entranced with the vision presented in front of him. "Mm, fuck!" A moan left your lips as you felt the palm of his hand strike against the flesh, your ass stinging from the impact. Not to say that you necessarily hated it, by any means.

And Suguru caught it—the way your slick ran down his shaft at the sudden impact. "Should've fucking guessed you would've liked it," his tone practically dripped in condescension as he spoke, his hand going to cup your other ass cheek. Holding the flesh in his hands before giving you another harsh slap, almost rivaling the harsh smack of his hips against your own. "Shit shit, Geto, don't stop," you whined, pushing your ass back into him. "Think it's okay for you to call me Suguru after bein’ inside you and all."

"Suck," a simple command, two of his fingers in front of your face. Your tongue swirled around his fingers, tasting the remnants of your cum on them before letting it fall flat. Simply sucking on his fingers as his cock pushed in and out of you with such fervor. "Get 'em all nice and wet for me, just like that," Suguru pushed his fingers deeper into your mouth the second you started to get too loud again, tears building up at your waterline when you gagged on them. "Aw, don't cry, cutie. Y'know I had to."

And while his words were meant to be reassuring, the mocking tone of his voice was anything but. Spit dribbled down from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the chair beneath you. "Sugu-Sugu, fuck, right there!" He'd adjusted the angle of his hips, his shaft brushing up against your g-spot with every thrust. "So. Fucking. Tight," each of his words was accentuated with a deep thrust of his hips, filling you up impossibly so. Like he wanted to show you just how much he'd been thinking about it, like he claimed he did.

If the moans coming out of you weren't evidence enough as to what was happening in the room, then you were pretty much certain that the plap! plap! echoing through the walls was evidence enough. Geto's heavy balls smacked against your ass with every harsh thrust of his hips. He brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing at the nub just in time for it to match his pace. You clamped around his cock like a vice, a strangled moan leaving out of his lips. "Just had to tell- shit me that you wanted my cum, ma."

"Mph, cumm- I'm cumm-" Muffled babbles left your mouth, your cunt clenching around him yet again. A creamy ring formed around the base of his cock, his thrusts getting sloppier and faster. Whatever small bits of concern about being too loud had been disregarded—loud squelches and skin clapping filling up the room as Suguru rutted inside of you. You turned your head to look over at him, the sight before you almost like something out of a painting. His hair had completely been released from the half-bun, cascading down his back perfectly and his eyes were closed in pure bliss.

Spurts and spurts of cum shot deep inside of you, his cock twitching as you milked him for whatever he could offer. Suguru pulled his softening cock out of your cunt, his cum starting to dribble out of you and down your thighs. With the same fingers he'd had inside your mouth, he pushed his cum back inside of you. Scooping the substance up with relative ease. Your body slumped against the chair, willing that Geto would give you a couple seconds to catch your breath.

You'd expected him to grab a wipe or a paper towel to clean you up with, but he simply got up from his spot behind you. Grabbing his pants off the floor and fastening up his fly. You looked over at him through half lidded eyes, seeing him pop the fingers that had previously been in your cunt into his mouth. Slurping at them in a similar fashion that you'd done just a couple minutes prior. "Wanna taste yourself, pretty girl? 'S so fucking good."

Geto didn't give you a chance to respond before he was leaning down to your level, one of his fingers underneath your chin to raise your head. He leaned in, his lips pressing against yours in a messy exchange. More of spit getting intertwined than an actual kiss, not that you minded in your state. His tongue flicked against yours, the bittersweet taste of both you and him combined filling your tastebuds. Geto pulled away after a couple seconds, a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

You hadn't even finished putting on your pants yet when Suguru spoke up yet again,

"You mind giving me a five star review when you get home?"

[xfgpng]

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 -

— : [ nsfw ] yakuza boss toji, arranged marriage, unprotected sex, loss of virginity, pet names, fluff (he’s very ooc with reader, sue me) + breeding kink and mentions of pregnancy

— : wc : 1.9k

when you were first introduced to the zenin clan, you were shy. your father and the head of the zenin family were close, the alliance going as far back to the early 1920’s.

you didn’t ask any questions and like the good and dutiful daughter you were, accepted from the age of 16 that you would be married into their family. you didn’t have any complaints, your parents and older brothers and sisters were always good to you and you felt honoured that your father had chosen you and not one of your sisters.

now, at 23, you were to be married to one of the sons who would rightfully take over the family business as soon as his grandfather passed on.

toji zenin

just looking at him made you squirm. he was big and intimidating and his smile made you feel like he was in on a joke that you didn’t get. still, he was beyond handsome so you had no complaints.

he was always soft with you, different from how aggressive you’ve seen him be to just about anyone else.

“come sit with me baby” he chuckles, watching you leaning awkwardly against the door to his private home office.

“are you busy?” you ask, walking around the large desk to stand next to his chair.

“never too busy for my wife” he smirks, pulling you to sit on his lap. he kisses your temple and then your cheek as he wraps his arm around you.

you can tell that he is actually busy. he has his laptop open and there are stacks of money packed in neat piles on the floor next to his desk.

“couldn’t sleep?” he asks, rubbing your arms softly. it wasn’t necessarily cold in his office but it was cold in the house and the big bed felt empty without your husband.

“not without you” you admit and he laughs. it’s not to mock you, he never makes you feel stupid for your feelings despite everyone telling you how mean and rude he was. you didn’t care, he treated you just fine.

“i’m sorry sweetheart” he sighs, “i’m almost done here”

“toji…” you say, trailing off. you’ve been thinking about this for a month now and you weren’t sure if he was just being nice or if he was just keeping you around to save face.

“what is it?” he asks, turning his laptop off to give you his full attention. he did feel bad for not sleeping with you but he was a busy man and he was still a newlywed. he wasn’t sure how to handle these things all at once.

“i just… do you not want me?” you ask, frowning slightly. you don’t mean to sound so desperate but you were married after all and he hadn’t even…

“what, where is this coming from?” he asks and he seems confused. he turns you in his lap so he can see your face. you really were so cute when you looked so shy.

“you haven’t tried to touch me” you pout, “i know you’re far more experienced than i am but i thought you’d —”

“y/n” he cuts you off, cupping your face gently, “i’ve wanted to fuck you since we were teens”

“hey!”

he laughs, kissing you. you really were the sweetest thing.

“i know you’re a virgin, i would never want to force you into anything unless you’re ready” he says, “and besides”

you look into his eyes and he’s smirking again.

“i’m big, i don’t wanna hurt you” he’s so smug and you’d slap him if you weren’t interested in finding out just how big.

you squirm in his lap, moving your hips against him and he grabs your waist.

“watch it” he narrows his eyes, “i’ll take that as an invitation”

“take me to bed toji-san” you flatter your pretty lashes at him and his jaw clenches. he really couldn’t give a fuck about finishing any work tonight.

“mark your words baby” he warns, scooping you up and heading towards your bedroom.

you kiss his neck, sucking marks into it. you weren’t always like this but you’ve seen the way people look at him and even though he was all yours, you had no problem reminding them that toji was a married man. he was off the market. he was yours.

he grins, titling his head to the side to give you more access and you moan, biting down. he grunts, slapping your ass before laying you down gently on your expensive silk sheets.

“i didn’t know my wife was so slutty” he scoffs, pulling his sweater off in one swift motion. the way he looks standing over you, big and bulky has you squeezing your thighs together.

he licks his lips, pulling your legs apart and leaning down to kiss the inside of your thighs.

“let me get you nice and ready for me yeah?” he bites your thigh in retaliation from your own marking and you gasp, legs falling open wider.

your pretty silk panties are damp and he looks up at you with a smirk.

“that excited for me already baby?” he teases, just to see you try to cover your pretty face with your pillow.

he kisses the inside of your thighs, watching as goosebumps arise. you were so sensitive and he liked that a lot about you. he reaches up to pull your panties down, groaning at the sight of your pretty pussy glistening with your arousal.

you knew you were pretty, you’ve never doubted that but the way he looks at you, makes you feel so beautiful. you think your parents made the right choice when it came to toji.

he kisses your clit, earning a soft whimper from you. flattening his tongue against your pussy, he licks a long stripe from your slit to your clit, wrapping his lips around your sensitive bud as he slips a wet finger into your tight pussy.

his thick finger feels different from your own but it’s still so good, so much better than you even imagined and you find yourself moaning louder for him, grinding your pussy against his face.

he grins, adding another finger before scissoring you open. it hurts just a little but you don’t want him to stop, the pain doing nothing to stop the tingling sensation you’re feeling all over your body.

“feels good baby?” he asks, licking his lips as he watches you fall apart beneath him. it’s so sexy, the way you squeeze and pinch your nipples.

you look so disheveled and fucked out and it’s all for him. he feels his cock throb and twitch knowing he will be the only person to ever see you like this.

“i’m ready for you” you whine, “please, i want it”

he’s too weak to deny you anything and it should scare him but he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his mouth. a sweet thing like you had him wrapped around your finger and you probably didn’t even know that yet.

he strokes his cock a little, watching your eyes widen when you see just how big he is. you’ve never had sex before but you weren’t exactly innocent. you’ve seen porn and his dick was a lot bigger than the ones you used to see on your screen.

it has you unconsciously closing your legs.

“don’t hide from me sweetheart” he grins, “it’s all yours you know?”

he’s teasing you but he wasn’t wrong. all of toji belonged to you in the same way you were his.

he’s careful when he rubs his thick and veiny cock through your folds. you’re so wet and it helps ease the tension he felt. he would never hurt you unless you asked him to. he would do whatever you wanted.

“ready?” he asks, rubbing soothing circles into your hips as he leans down to kiss you softly.

“yeah” you gasp, “want you”

you’ve wanted him since you learned what it was like to please yourself. a silly teenager who didn’t know the first thing about sex aside from what you were taught.

he takes his time, pressing into you. the stretch shocks you and it’s almost enough to distract you from the pain but it does hurt. when his tip pops through, you cry out, eyes squeezing shut.

he kisses you gently, whispering praises as he slowly bottoms out. his eyes widen when he looks down and sees the blood. he’s about to pull out when you wrap around legs around him.

he can see you crying but you’re also smiling. he knows it must feel uncomfortable for you but he mirrors your sweet smile.

“you’re so big” you moan, moving your hips on your own and he bites the inside of his mouth. you’re so wet and tight and your velvety walls welcome him home like he belongs.

“don’t” he groans, “please baby, i need a moment”

he slides out slowly, watching your face for any discomfort. he knows how big he is, he’s always taken pride in his body and he can’t help but feel smug about your moans and whines.

he moans, thrusting back into you. he knew it would feel good but this is nothing like he could ever imagine. he doesn’t want to think about the women he’s been with before you.

he was arrogant when he was younger, refusing to get married to you or waiting. he feels like a piece of shit whenever he thinks about you and how loyal you’ve been, despite his reluctance in the beginning.

“more” you beg, gripping his bicep with the hand that wasn’t gripping the sheets below you. your nails make crescent moons in his skin and he knows it’ll leave marks. he hopes it bleeds too, he wants to feel you all over.

he picks up his pace, enjoying the way your moans get louder, the sound of skin slapping against skin is loud and he wonders if everyone in the house can hear you. he hopes so. you sounded so pretty, he would never get enough of you.

“i love you” he gasps, leaning down to kiss you. he feels you smile against his lips before you wrap your arms around his neck.

he slows down and he almost regrets it. he’s so close to busting his load when he hears you whine and then, “put a baby in me” you say, “fuck me full of your cum toji-san”

he bites your shoulder. he really needs to calm the fuck down. everything is so overwhelming and you’re just so perfect it makes him nervous.

he would be lying if he said he hasn’t thought about it. he’s fucked his fist to the idea of breeding you, stuffing your pussy with his cum until it leaks out but he wouldn’t stop, he’d keep going until you passed out.

“y/n” he warns, feeling your clench around him. you were playing a dangerous game and you clearly knew that. perhaps you did know the power you had over him.

“i want your cum” you plead, kissing his jaw and then his cheek, whispering right into his ear, “i wanna feel you for days, please”

he’ll make you regret messing with him like this.

“safe word” he whispers and he’s not sure why he’s even surprised when you don’t look confused or surprised. you smile so sweetly and oh so innocently up at him when you say,

“sōko”

[pradaax]

Twisted

Song Mingi x Reader 18+

What could possibly go wrong with sleeping with your boss’ son?

Your red bottoms click as you entered the company, the stares didn't go unnoticed to you. You could say you always did enjoy a bit of attention.

You passed by the security and into the elevator. The doors opened showing the hallway that leads to the office of the man you weren't happy about seeing.

You didn't bother knocking and entered the office, there he was in the chair with his unbuttoned shirt, a drink in his hand and a girl in her bra on the desk "Why are you here?" He clicked his tongue placing his drink down.

"Scram." You demanded, your eyes bruised on the girl who started to pick up her clothes from the floor and ran out the office. You strolled up to the him. "Did he send you?"

You ignored him, your eyes running around the office room that smelt like fresh sex. A disgust look took over your face when your eyes landed on him.

You worked for Mr Song, Mingi’s father. You were loyal to him, he was your role model and you were proud to work for a hard working man who worked so hard to build a company from nothing to where it was now. A big corporation in Korea.

Mr Song was a gentleman but his son was a totally womaniser though that wasn't the only reason why you loathed him it was also the fact that whatever his father built would come down to the ground if Mingi stayed like this.

It was a well known fact that he would always bring in different women to the office almost everyday but no one dared to say anything because the man also had anger issues.

"You need to put a stop to this." You warned throwing the files you were holding on the brown oak desk. "The sales have dropped by 15% and Park’s corporation is no longer wanting to partner." He lazily opened one of the files, scanning it before looking back up you since you were still standing.

The hatred feeling between you two was mutual, you both didn't like each other or even handle being in each other's presence. Mingi didn't like the fact that his own father trusted you more than him or how he treated you as if you meant something more than him.

"This has nothing to do with me, numbers dropped before I was in charge." Mingi’s voice hit your ears and you almost wanted to laugh at the stupid mark he made.

“Stop fooling around, you’re the CEO of Song corporation now. Grow up, Mingi.” Your statement made him poke the inside of his cheek with his tongue and raise a brow. He stood up stepping towards you.

“You have some confidence on you, walking in here telling me what to do. I don’t know if you have been sucking my father’s dick but-”

The slap that had just landed on his face cut him off. He scoffed titling his head, his eyes not leaving yours as your ones danced between his. Mingi had crossed the line. “Don’t ever say such sick things.”

You turned to leave but the sudden grip on your wrist span you around. Your body was pressed against his one. You stared up at the taller male, before you had the chance to say something his slender fingers wrapped around your throat pushing you back to the sofa.

“What the hell are you doing?” Your eyes widen as you fell on the sofa, his fingers only tightening. Mingi leaned over, he was only inches away from your face. Anger in his eyes and the smell of whiskey was lingering around your nose.

“Should I be the last face you see?” A creepy smile made its way to his face. His eyes growing as your face turned red, he was crashing your windpipe. Your hands wrapped around his wrist trying to loosen his grip but that didn’t work and you took the opportunity to dig your nails into his neck too.

“G-Go to hell.” You managed to spit out, his eyes only darkening more. A wince leaving his mouth when your nails dag deeper.

The door opening caught both of your attention. Seonghwa strolled in with a frown on his face and his hands in his pockets. “Did I walk in at the right or wrong time?”

Mingi’s grip loosened and he stood straight rubbing his neck. You coughed gasping for air, your throat completely dry.

“I won’t even ask.” Seonghwa sighed, you glared at the taller man in the room before standing up and heading to the door. “Yes, go run to Mr Song.” Mingi’s voice was heard before you slammed the large wooden door shut.

You pulled out the ringing phone and it was Mr Song. You put it on your ear hearing his cheerful voice.

“How did it go?” He asked.

“He’s out of control, Mr Song. Sales have dropped by 15% and the Parks no longer want to partner.”

“I will take care of him, go back to see him in a few days.”

-

You took a deep breath before opening the large doors. It was night and no one was in the company besides some security who let you know that Mingi was still in.

The office was dim and the chair was facing the city lights outside the large window. Mingi didn’t bother turning around. Your heels clacking in the silent room.

You bite your lip, this was a bit unusual. “Mingi?” He didn’t answer but you knew he was there, the chair might’ve had a long backrest but you could still see the man’s hair. You flicked the lamp near him on. You frowned moving even closer trying to see his face.

You almost gasped when his features came in sight. His lip was busted, a cut on his eyebrow and cheek and a light bruise around his eye. Mingi’s attention went on yours. He had a drink in his hand that he had now placed down and a bloody handkerchief.

“What happened to you?” You were now in front of him, looking down with concern drawn over your face. Your hand reaching out to the first aid kit next to him. You quickly pulled out wipes, you dapped it on the cut on his cheek making him wince. “Sorry.” You mumbled.

“Why would you get into a fight? The press conference is in a few days!” You stated purposely pressing hard on his cut. “He hit my car.”

Your mouth almost fell open at the stupid excuse to start a fight. “Let me guess, I should see the other guy?” You glared at him, he let out a small laugh. It was your first time seeing him genuinely laugh making him bloom. “Read my mind.”

You started to clean the cut on his lip, the silence was comfortable for some reason. You felt his stare on you but you ignored that and continued with your task though shortly Mingi gently grabbed your wrist pushing your hand away.

Your eyes met and it felt like he had casted a spell on you. You didn’t realise how close you really were to him yet you didn’t bother to move.

“If you stay that close, I’m going to kiss you.” He softly whispered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. You weren’t sure what had gotten into you, he started leaning closer you stayed still like you were waiting for your lips to connect with his plump ones.

Mingi grabbed the back of your head closing the gap between you two. The kiss was anything but sweet. The taste of metallic coming in your mouth due to the cut on his lip but that didn’t bother you.

With his free hand he wrapped it around your waist pulling you down on his lap. You could feel his bludge growing by the second under you. Your hands wrapped around his dark hair, lightly tugging on it as you started to sway your hips making him let out a groan. Mingi pulled away latching his mouth on your neck, planting soft kisses down your chest as he took your blazer off and pulled your dress down revealing your hard nipples.

His thumb teasingly circled around your nipple causing a moan to escape. He grabbed your tit and his warm tongue danced around your nipple before sucking it.

“Oh god.” You murmured tugging more on his hair, you haven’t felt anything like this in a while. You felt the wetness between your legs and wanted more.

You stood up dropping to your knees and unbuttoned his pants, with his help they were pulled down. You bit your lip seeing how big he really is.

You grabbed his length in your hand and Mingi had a fistful of your hair pushing your head down. “Spit on it.” He ordered and you did so but he took that chance to shove himself down your throat.

You started to bob your head, your mouth fully stuffed with his cock. “Taking it like a good girl.” He smirked when you looked up at his face, your cheeks were rosy, your brows pinched together and your hair was messy since he was still tugging on it.

Mingi grabs your arms pulling you up in a second, he stood up and pushed you down on his desk. He lifted your dress up and ripped your stockings.

He moved your panties to the side as he leaned over you. “So wet for me.” He whispered biting your neck. Mingi took out a condom from his drawer and put it on after ripping off the package.

“Don’t flatter yoursel-” A whimper cut you off when he positioned himself to your entrance and with no warning slammed into you, stretching you out.

“F-Fuck you.” You mumbled digging your nails into his shoulders, his pace was nowhere near gentle. “Already am, doll.” Mingi licked your lips, grinning hard seeing the mess you were and how you could barely form words.

“I think I like you better when you’re moaning more than talking.” He purred against your neck, his thrusts not dying down.

He kept abusing your insides over and over. His hands were running down your body. He stood straight placing your leg on his shoulder and holding onto your hips keeping you in place as he kept slamming into you like there’s no tomorrow.

“Taking me pretty well, aren't you?" He groaned watching how his length was disappearing inside you.

You felt light headed from all the pleasure and the heat rushed through your body. You arched your back when he started to rub your swollen clit.

With one thrust he pushed himself so deep inside you, both of your hips now touching. No one’s ever been that deep and you loved it. Your legs twitched and you released over his cock. He jerked inside you with a groan you knew he was done.

He pulled out throwing the condom in the trash under his desk. Mingi fixed himself up, you were still on the desk unable to move. “Did I fuck you that good?” He smiled proud of himself making you roll your eyes.

He carried you making your arms wrap around his neck. Mingi gently placed you on the couch and covered you with the blanket. You felt sleep taking over you when he started to play with your hair.

“I didn’t get into a fight. I was jumped by Mr Song’s guards. Funny how my father shows his love, right?”

Twisted

[diremoone]

the door with the floral wreath | r. sukuna

when sukuna gets a new neighbor on the third floor of his apartment complex, he’s pleasantly surprised to see who it is behind the door with the floral wreath. her two cats on the other hand, are a massive fucking problem.

w — honestly nothing? save for fluff and some cussing, slowburn-ish, implied boxer & sorta rich! Sukuna, implied polyglot(ish)! reader, cat! Satoru and cat! Suguru and both cats being in love, cozy themed again (I can’t help it), the formatting of this “fic” was how it was in my brain so I’m sorry if it’s a lil strange haha, this apparently became longer than I originally anticipated lmao, reader is mentioned to be partially Japanese but no physical appearances are ultimately described, mild angst at the end

a/n: not apart of the ‘make me (yours)’ universe but it’s definitely inspired by it

🌸 When Sukuna wakes up on a Saturday morning and opens his front door to leave for his morning run, the last thing he expects to see is a floral wreath on the door opposite of his. That can only mean one thing: someone has moved in. But if someone has, then why hasn’t he seen or heard the furniture being moved in? These aren’t exactly the cheapest apartments, so did they just not have anything?

It was weird, to say the least.

🌸 However, three months pass before he gets to see who the person who’s behind the door across from his.

🌸 Sukuna gets back from his jog a little early, the light sprinkles of rain turning into a downpour. That’s when he sees you leaving your apartment, locking the door to leave. Unfortunately, you’re not paying too much attention to your surroundings, and you two nearly collide into one another at the top of the stairs.

You narrowly turn in time to place yourself flat against the wall to avoid the behemoth of a man that was your neighbor from running over you and sending you both down the stairs.

“I’m sorry,” came your instant apology.

“It’s fine,” follows his gruff reply.

But he knows he certainly wouldn’t mind running into you again. Just not where you two can fall down the stairs and potentially break your necks.

On a random day not too long after your initial run-in (and near subsequent dangerous tumble down some stairs), you two run into one another to get the mail at the front office.

You pop up behind him right after he opens his mailbox, staring up at him and his very impressive height and build and apparently scare him, because when you speak next, his shoulders jump. “Gosh, you’re tall. You must’ve played basketball or something in high school, yeah?”

He would’ve either been silent or retort something in an asshole tone like he was used to. He just didn’t like people.

He would’ve, if it wasn’t his cute neighbor.

“Volleyball,” he replies quietly. “Quit after graduation.”

You frown. “That sucks. You must’ve been good at it.”

“It was a pastime.”

“Sounds fun though,” you chirp, putting your own key into your mailbox. “I tried to get into sports, but uh, lack of things made it hard to do so. Did track for awhile, until my ribs couldn’t keep up.”

Sukuna lets out a snort but says nothing further. He goes to leave, but not before hearing, “G’bye, neighbor!”

Ah, shit. He hadn’t told you his name, had he?

Hopefully, there would be a next time.

🌸 Sukuna doesn’t see you again for another month or two after that, fate still having you two separated like an awful slowburn romance.

🌸 What he doesn’t like in particular is the fact you don’t know his name and he doesn’t know yours. He doesn’t like that; doesn’t like that he’s missed his chance to know you a little better. By his logic, he should know your name, have your phone number, and have at least had you on a date and in his bed at least once already.

🌸 Come early December, he hears your door begin to open and close a lot. It becomes annoying, very very annoying, very very quickly.

That goes on almost until Christmas time.

Until one day he manages to catch the little reasons why your door has been slamming shut so much.

Twerp Number One wriggles in his hold as he holds them both up to eye level. She grunts and huffs at him. “Put me down!”

To which he scoffs at. “And why should I do that?”

Just as Twerp Number Two decides to speak, your door opens. This time it’s you.

“You can let them down,” you say, clearly amused. “They’ve come for cookies.”

Sukuna grunts. “So that’s why they’re always slamming the door.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve tried to get them to stop. They are six, though.” As genuine as your apology is, Sukuna can see the little twinkle of mischievousness appear at the end of your sentence in defense of the two twerps.

“Mr. Sukuna is a big grump anyway!” the oddly-orange-haired girl says. “At least that’s what my mama says.”

“Nobara, you shouldn’t be calling people names,” you scold the girl. “Put them down so they can get some cookies and head back, please. I’m sure Nobara’s mom is wondering about them. Nobara, the white box is for you to take home.”

Sukuna begrudgingly obliges. Nobara and her friend barge inside your home. The door stays open thanks to a cold breeze, allowing for the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and cinnamon rolls to drift outside and into his nose. And damn does it smell nice.

“So, I finally know your name,” you muse.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” he says, half-correcting you, “but everyone just calls me by my first name.”

“I can see why,” you reply in a joking tone and smile. “But yeah… It fits you. I’m [Name], and pretty much the same: everyone calls me by my first name. Since my last name isn’t exactly normal, you know… Since I’m not inherently from Japan.”

Sukuna’s brows raise. “You’ve lived here before?” he asks.

“My mom is [part/full] Japanese,” you admit. And then to his surprise, you ramble on further, “I’ve popped around, uh, a few countries over the last several years of my life, Japan included. I’ve just… never stayed in one place to technically be from somewhere. I was born in the States, but… I don’t, uh, really feel like I actually am from there… Does that make any sense?”

“It does.” But he doesn’t go into his backstory in return. And thankfully, you don’t seem to mind, just about as much as you minded sharing such a part of your life to someone who’s technically nothing more than a stranger to you, not in the slightest.

Nobara pops back out with her friend, who’s just a touch older than her.

“Thank you for the cookies and cimmanom rolls, Miss [Name]!” Nobara says.

You don’t bother to correct her cute mistake. “You’re very welcome, Nobara. Now head home. Goodnight, girls.”

“Goodnight!”

You watch the girls descend, and when they’re out of sight, you listen carefully for the telltale of their first floor door closing. And when it thuds shut loud enough to wake everyone in the apartments in the block, you turn your attention back to the gigantic man that was your next door neighbor… Who’s attention was on your door, more than likely concentrating on the smell in your kitchen.

Your lips curl up and you prevent a giggle. “You want some?”

Your voice snaps him from his stupor. “What? Want what?”

“Some cookies and cimmanom rolls?” you question, cutely reiterating Nobara’s mistake.

“Uh…”

He takes too long to answer, so you decide for him. “I’ll get you some anyway.”

You go back inside, leaving him out in the cold. But you don’t take very long and come back out not even two minutes later with another white box and place it into his hands.

“Well,” you say, teeth chattering from the cold. “It’s nice finally knowing your name, neighbor. Maybe we’ll run into each other again soon… Goodnight.”

He barely gets out a “goodnight” before you close the door. Sukuna tosses his head back and settles for a heavy exhale rather than the audible sigh he knows you would’ve heard through your door.

Another fuck up. But at least he got some food out of it this time.

🌸 You both end up meeting each other a lot more often by “coincidence” after that, like fate has finally determined you’re allowed to see one another or something. (To him that just sounds stupid, until it comes out of your mouth.)

For Christmas, you end up gifting him a tin of popcorn and another box of sweets by leaving them at a front door with a cute handwritten note.

🌸 Gradually, the two of you begin to interact more, and naturally gravitate toward each other’s energy and finally getting to know one another; he’s over at your apartment most of the time, it’s cleaner and smells at lot more nice than his (in his opinion). It’s not that he’s dirty, he’s quite clean actually. It’s just that he prefers your apartment to his.

🌸 You find out that Sukuna is about ten years older than you, and was almost a volleyball player that almost went pro, had it not been for his father’s death. He lost all motivation for the sport, and eventually settled for doing numbers for his father’s company, taking up boxing as a side hobby. To which he was more than good at.

A year ago, he moved into these apartments, getting away from the corporate world had had dived into, opting to do things from home rather than in-person. His prior neighbors never stayed around for too long, not with the amount of noise coming from his apartment in the middle of the night. You’re honestly surprised the person below him hasn’t moved out yet either.

🌸 For Sukuna, he finds out that you almost didn’t get to graduate high school because of how much you’d been moving around. You’d gotten depression from leaving so many friends behind so often that you just made graduation by the skin of your teeth.

Now, you’re online for college, majoring in linguistics, all while working as a translator for a special needs school of Japanese children that are deaf. Through that, he finds out you speak several different languages as well.

God, your personality is just as sweet as the goodies you bake, huh?

🌸 There is one problem, however, when he comes over: your goddamn cats.

🌸 The white Maine Coon is for sure out to get him and make his life miserable, with his attempts at wooing you almost a failed attempt every single time. His name is Satoru, and he’s by far the most obnoxious cat he’s ever fucking met.

Why on Earth you’d give a cat a human name is beyond him. But the again, the fucking cat acts so human it’s disturbing — it almost kind of makes sense.

🌸 Satoru’s claws almost end up in his ass every time he walks through the front door. He can’t even stand openly, but has to stay against a wall or sit on the couch so the cat doesn’t get his claws into his backside. And he can tell that that damn cat has a smug-ass smirk on his face every time. How a cat can smirk, he’s unsure; but he just knows that the look on his face is the one of a smug little shithead that knows he’s gotten away with being a menace. Thankfully, you’re aware of his tendencies and can tell when he’s being more of an asshole than other times and get onto him.

🌸 The black Maine Coon, Suguru, isn’t as terrible, but he opts to creepily stare down at Sukuna from his cat tower rather than be proactive in his distaste. He studies him every second every time he comes over, paying attention to every single detail and movement Sukuna makes with you.

He’ll do things more subtly than his white counterpart, like “accidentally” wave his long, black fluffy tail into his cup of water you gave him. He’s just as much of a menace, although you don’t get onto him as often like the white one, because while you know Satoru is more of an extroverted menace, you just seemingly can’t see that Suguru is just as awful. (Mostly because you don’t actually see it.)

🌸 This goes on for months and months, Satoru scratching the behind of his pants as hard as he can to make it rip and getting white fur all over his clothes, and Suguru glaring down at him from his tower and putting his paws in Sukuna’s food. Although it becomes a little less as often because they’re seemingly growing used to him, as if they’re seeing that he actually makes you happy and finally get the sense that he isn’t just going to break your heart and throw you away.

🌸 And the growing approval of your cats seems to mean a lot to you.

“I picked them up off the streets,” you tell him after he asks about where you got the inseparable pair. “I found them as kittens in a cardboard box three years ago on the streets, drenched and matted in dirt and nasty water.”

You remember the day very clearly. It had just stopped raining, and just as you were about to head home, stopping at the vending machines before heading to your car, you heard animal-like cries of something small and weak. And sure enough, on the other side of the food machine, stuffed away in a tacky, ruined cardboard box, were two, rain-drenched kittens huddled together to keep warm.

That was the day you got two new cats, two new responsibilities. And although times got hard a few times, you’ve never regretted adopting them.

Sukuna gazes up at the two cats on the tower, sitting next to each other in the bed at the top. Their tails are intertwined, heads rubbing at each other’s necks lovingly. He would have never guessed that’s where you found them. From the looks of it, they he would’ve guessed they’d came from a pet store.

“So you’ve raised them since they were kittens,” Sukuna says. “They trust you with their lives. And looks like they love you unconditionally, too.”

“I’d like to think so,” you muse, sipping on your coffee. “Sometimes it doesn’t seem like it with how ornery they are.”

Sukuna keeps his eyes trained on the two cats in love. He’s slightly jealous, and no he’ll never admit it. He just hopes he can have that one day with you.

He just has to stop Satoru from ripping him a new one every time he comes through the door.

🌸 Your cats eventually grow fond of having him over, fond enough that they’re not being the usual mischievous selves when Sukuna puts his arm around your shoulders and tugs you closer to him when you invite him over for movie nights, not trying to bite his fingers off (Satoru) or sit between you both (Suguru).

🌸 After a year passes and you and Sukuna know each other, he finally gets to take you on a proper date after manning up. Although it’s not a restaurant date, since he knows you hate being looked at while eating. It’s a picnic by the ocean, with the weather nothing short of perfect.

🌸 Your attempts to leave your cats at home for said date, however, are fruitless, the pair determined to come with you and your now-boyfriend who declares himself as such after dessert just to piss off the pair of felines. Sukuna plants a big fat smooch on your lips, turning you into a giggly mess.

🌸 They in return, somehow find a stray kitten and plop it in his lap in return. The kitten isn’t as bad off as when you found Satoru and Suguru, but he’s just as scared. He immediately imprints on your oversized boyfriend, who secretly takes an instant liking to the orange-red (honestly a little pink, too) baby cat and becomes a cat dad.

Date not necessarily ruined. But definitely not what he had planned.

🌸 After a week of having, he fondly named the cat a human name — Yuuji, and the fur baby took just as much liking to it as his owner did him. You do have to teach him the ropes and warn your boyfriend that he’d better be ready to have some of his stuff deep-cleaned if Yuuji doesn’t get to the litter box in time.

Satoru and Suguru take to the kitten like two doting parents. And as much as they still kinda dislike your boyfriend taking you from them, they still help train him to use the litter box. (Long story short, they felt bad after seeing you cry after they’d tore up [and peed] all over your third couch and quit being as ornery as they used to be.)

A few months had passed since Sukuna got Yuuji plopped into his lap, since you two had become a couple. It was always amusing seeing your big boyfriend playing with such a small cat. Honestly, the cat looked like he was part tiger.

You feel overwhelmed with contentment. You have a good job, a wonderful boyfriend (who’s apparently secretly rich) who loves to give you kisses, and two cats who love you. You have enough now, so why was the universe trying to take that from you?

You don’t know how your ex got your number, but what you do know is that you have to tell Sukuna. No later than tomorrow.

You exhale. You can’t think about it. You’ll tell him. You’ll tell him tomorrow that your dyed blonde-haired ex wants to see you again. You’re hopefully of one thing though: that the moment your boyfriend meets your ex, you hope Sukuna has enough restraint to not beat the shit out of him.

“Baby, you okay?”

Sukuna’s brows are raised. One would miss the concern on his face if they didn’t know him as well as you do.

“Yeah… Yeah, I’m good.” Woman up, girl, you tell yourself. “I do have something to tell you later. Just… remind me before dinner.”

The concern becomes more evident on his face, which prompts you to walk to him and kiss him.

“It’s nothing serious… I don’t think. Don’t worry,” you reassure him, partially reassuring yourself. “What we should worry about is what’s for dinner,” you joke. “Don’t think I can eat those leftovers.”

“Goddamn, I’m sorry I put too much salt in it.”

You laugh, wanting this happiness to ever be trampled on. You’ll do what you can to protect and keep it.

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @heresan @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri

[shawnxstyles]

needy girl

DATE: APRIL 27, 2023

summary: harry left you in subspace this morning, leaving you very needy. when you get the courage to walk into his home office and ask for a few things, harry makes sure to give them to you.

request: yesss

words: 4.4k

warnings: SMUT ([f- receiving deep-throating, fingering, finger-sucking], [m- receiving oral], cock-thumping, praise kink, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, unprotected sex, mentions of aftercare), fluff, and language? porn with little to no plot people

note: i LOVE dd/lg, so i’m so glad i got this request. i love daddy!harry, so don’t be afraid to request this more! also, sooo sorry i’ve been so busy!! life just gets like that sometimes. NOT EDITED.

(not famous) dom!harry x sub!reader

—

harry was in his office all day.

you wanted to stay out of his way, like he asked you to while he worked, but it was getting harder as the hours passed. he left the bed this morning at eight a.m. sharp, which is early for him since he was staying home today. a couple times a week, he would go into the office and stay there for most of the day, leaving you lonely in his enormous house. but today, he stayed home and did his busy work on his computer.

when he left the bed this morning, he dragged a certain heat with him that left you colder than ever. the night before was luxurious and lovely, but the morning after was the complete opposite. you knew somewhere deep inside of you he didn’t mean for it to be that way, but your desires were overruling.

you needed him.

the needy place in between your thighs ached for the man on your mind, the one who was completely distracted and too engrossed into his work to notice. no matter how much you wanted to, you refused to touch yourself. you knew that was one of his biggest rules, and you only wanted to be a good girl for harry, so you didn’t. as your imagination and wanting for harry consumed you, your sleep shorts became soaked with your arousal because you hadn’t been wearing any underwear since last night.

by the early evening, you were too impatient. you had been a good girl all day, and you felt as though you deserved to talk to harry now. although at this point, he wasn’t harry; the only name on your mind was daddy daddy daddy.

you walked down the staircase in your sleep shorts and harry’s t-shirt with determination. however, when you reached his office door, nerves cascaded throughout your body, overthinking. but like all day, your wants and desires pushed you to pursue.

carefully, you pushed open the cracked door of his office, sneakily peeking inside. you gaze at harry: leaned back in his black leather chair, fingers pinching his bottom lip in deep thought as his eyebrows furrow at his computer screen.

you release a shuddered breath at the sight, thighs clenching unconsciously together to ease the pounding ache of your clit. harry’s head peers to the door at the noise, eyes instantly softening at the sight of his angel. with a wave of his hand, he beckons you to come in and you slowly pad across the wooden floors to get to him.

“waitin’ for you to come down here, darlin’,” he spoke with a soft smile. you blushed as you bit your lip. standing by his desk, your hands instinctively go towards your mouth to gnaw on your nails in anxiety. you wanted him—no needed him—so badly, it hurt. you needed his touch, but you specifically needed to be filled. in more ways than one. “don’t do that, love.”

you’ve always had a fascination with the mouth. when you were a baby, you sucked on your thumb. as you grew up, you began biting your nails because sucking your own thumb was too childish. harry knew that it was a nervous tick and he hated seeing you so anxious, so he always reminded you softly to stop. you appreciated it, even if you never broke the habit.

however, the habit turned into more. the more that your relationship grew with harry, the more you two explored. every time he touched your mouth, it sent a thrilling shock straight down to your clit. you loved the feeling of his cock stuffed down your throat while he fucked your face. you loved when he forced you to taste yourself on his fingers after he just made you come. just the thought of him in your mouth made your thoughts spiral and your desires grow even stronger within you.

“sorry, daddy,” you mumbled, hesitatingly ripping your nails from your mouth. your teeth pulled at the skin of your inner lip. raising an eyebrow, he licks his lips knowingly.

“daddy, huh?” he pushes out his chair, facing his body towards you. you slowly make your way over to him until he’s yanking you into his lap.

usually, he wore a full suit, even when he was home, but today, he was just wearing a white button up with some black slacks. he was delectable as ever, making it harder for you to stay so complacent when the heat radiating off of him was unbelievably close to you.

“what d’you need, babylove?” straddling his lap, harry caressed your head, smoothing gently over your hair. you melted into his touch, closing your eyes for a moment. “look at me.”

you didn’t hesitate to listen, eyes shooting open to stare at his, which were spotted with black in a swirl of green. your heart thumped wildly.

“need you, daddy,” you practically purred when one of his hands drifted down to your waist to keep you steady.

“i see that, baby,” his eyes wander up and down your figure, sending goosebumps up your spine. “but what d’you need from me, darlin’?”

“need to be full,” you whine as his hand cups your cheek, his thumb dangerously close to your mouth. you nearly drool from how close he is.

“ah,” he tsks.

“please, daddy. i’ve been such a good girl. waited all day for you,” pleading, you instinctively ride up on his lap to get closer to him, causing him to inhale sharply. “left me alone this morning.”

harry frowns slightly, recalling back to this morning when he left you for a meeting. no matter how much of his life was work, it didn’t stand a chance to you. yeah, work was his life, but you were his everything. you being in his bed this morning was the reason he was able to get out of it and get through the day. and the fact that he left you, especially when you were so vulnerable and he didn’t know, makes him feel awful.

“that’s right, isn’t it? you waited all day, so you didn’t disturb me. daddy’s been a bit of a twat, hasn’t he?” you can’t help the little giggle that escapes you, which causes a small smile to appear on harry’s face that he saves for you and only you.

his thumb trails down to your bottom lip, flipping it back and seeing the teeth marks along the inside. he rubs over the scars before tucking his thumb pass your teeth. you look at harry for permission before doing anything.

“go ahead, doll. suck,” your lips don’t hesitate to close around it, eyes fluttering closed as you suck. your tongue laps and licks around, and you even bob your head a bit in satisfaction. harry sighs from the receiving end, struggling to breathe with you sucking the life out of his thumb.

“what else d’you want, angel? know you didn’t come all the way down here for jus’ that.”

like you said, you truly just wanted to be filled. no matter how he was filling you; with his cock or his fingers, you just needed something of his to keep you…full. you feel so empty.

your teeth scrape across his knuckle as the tip of his finger hits your throat. you whimper, loving the feeling. he always knows when and how to move so you can feel the most pleasure as possible. your tummy tingles at the rough texture rubbing against your tongue.

but he pulls away all too fast.

before you can whine, he speaks, “answer me. you know i don’t like to repeat myself, baby.”

“i w-want you inside of me,” you stutter. you’ve always had trouble asking for what you want, but with harry, you’re getting better. with harry, you were a better person—the best version of yourself.

“want what? my fingers? my tongue? my cock?” another whine elicits from your throat at his explicitness. you clench your slick thighs that he can definitely feel through his slacks. “ah, so you want m’cock?”

“y-yes, daddy,” you’ll never not want his cock.

he smirks. “since you’re such a good girl, i think i’ll jus’ have to give it to you.”

gently, he pushes you to the edge of his lap and zips down his slacks. you watch him with stars in your eyes, biting your lip in anticipation. his boxers appear in view and your hands shoot to them. without asking, you pull them down and watch harry’s hard-on spring out. he sighs when your chilled thumb rubs along his drippy tip.

“where do you want me, darlin’?” his voice is raspy with lust, eyes pitch black. the depth of his tone never ceases to turn you on. you notice his fists clenching on the armrests of his chair, knuckles white.

your mouth aches for something, feeling nothing but empty since his finger left. “mouth, daddy.”

when he nods once, you slip down his lap and onto the wooden floor. your knees are going to hate you later tonight, but right now you don’t care. one of his thick hands laces within your hair and guides your head down to his cock.

“breathe,” he instructs as your mouth consumes his tip.

your tongue swirls along his veins, exploring every inch that you’ve memorized at this point. every vein and ridge is etched in your memory so well that you can see it with your eyes closed. you feel yourself grow impossibly damper as you lower yourself more.

his tip nudges the back of your throat and he groans deeply above you. your stomach flutters, knowing that you’re satisfying him. when he’s pleasured, you’re pleasured, and vice versa.

harry’s grip on your hair tightens, spurring your muscle movements to quicken. you try to bob your head, but his hold restricts you. he holds you still, completely at his mercy. his hips buck ever so slightly into your mouth to tease himself.

every time you say you want him in your mouth, harry’s dick springs upward and is instantly hard as a rock. the feeling of your tongue licking and tracing along his shaft makes him fucking crazy. and then, when he thinks he might have his body under control, he’ll peek down at you; on your knees with tear-stained cheeks and a face full of his cock. the sight alone is what makes him come undone. even if he’s the dominant one, you’re secretly the one with all the control. but he’ll never say that.

his low groans alert you that he’s getting close. and you want nothing more than his cum on your tongue.

your hands lift from his thighs and trail up the ridges of his abdomen under his shirt. you trace every pec, imagining the tattoos lining his skin beautifully. god, just the image of the etched art could send you into oblivion.

“fuck, angel. doing so good for daddy. gonna make me come down your throat. d’want that? hmm?” harry husks, head hitting the leather chair in ecstasy. you moan in response, causing vibrations to shoot through harry’s body. he grunts while his cock shakes in your mouth.

“please come for me, daddy,” you pop off of him to say gravely, teasing him a bit. you kiss his tip. “need it so bad.”

rolling his eyes irritatingly, he forces your head back onto his cock desperately. you whimper at his dominance, clit throbbing at his roughness. the tears that brimmed your eyes now slowly cascade down your cheeks in pleasure and fullness. your tongue rubs alongside his shaft as his slit tickles your throat again.

harry’s hips begin to thrust toward your mouth, using you for his pleasure. your nails clawed at his abdomen, silently urging him to come. finally, his orgasm spurts down your throat, leaving white remnants on your chin. he gives you a knowing look, so you widen your mouth, showing him all of his juices before swallowing every drop like a good girl.

he smiles smugly while you stare up at him with glossy eyes, proud of yourself. he tucks himself back into his pants while you watch in a daze.

“such a good angel, making her daddy come because she wants to. how’d i get so lucky?” he caresses your puffy cheek, pushing into his touch. you smile as you wobbly try to stand up, knees aching.

every time he touches you, you feel safe, comforted. god, you wanted to spend every waking (and sleeping) second in his arms.

“think daddy’s done with work for today. how ‘bout i carry you upstairs and take care of ya?” you simply nod as harry sweeps you away, bridal style. you giggle as your feet swing and harry’s grip on your waist gets stronger. you feel his fingers digging into your sides, and you can’t help but wish they were inside of you.

“can i have your fingers, daddy? please, i need something…anything…” harry pushes open the bedroom door and tosses you onto the mattress. giggles echo around the room as you rest on your elbows impatiently.

“‘course you can, baby. after you strip f’me.”

obeying him, you discard his t-shirt and throw it somewhere along the floor. your silk shorts slide down your legs, slick with your arousal. harry stares at your naked body like it’s a work of art. because it is. every curve and every inch of you is alluring and perfect. he could gaze at you all day in pure euphoria.

he swears you get more irresistible every damn day.

“daddy…” blushing, you hide your face with your hands. harry immediately comes over to you, hovering and removes your delicate hands.

“don’t hide yourself from me. c’mon now,” you nibble on your bottom lip, still feeling empty. noticing this, harry untucks your lip and sticks two fingers inside. “always need somethin’ in your mouth, huh?”

“mhm,” you moan around his digits, rolling your tongue against them. you feel your shyness and insecurity release from you, feeling immense comfort from his touch.

his free hand trails down and caresses your bare breast. his rough fingertips tweak your nipples until they’re peaked like mountains and you’re craving for more. every touch is teasing, but it’s always teasing when it comes to harry. he loves inching you to the finish line with constant edging and too delicate touching, but by the end, you love it too. every orgasm with harry just gets better and better. you both learn something new every day.

trailing his hand farther, he widens your legs before leaning down a bit to get situated. his fingers go straight to your clit, rubbing small circles over the bud. you try to remain focused on his fingers, but you moan needily around his thick digits, nearly biting into his skin. the sound of your arousal can be heard with each motion of his hand.

harry thrusts his fingers in and out of your mouth, making you work. your legs spread wider in desire while your hips roll against the mattress, begging for anything. your mind was swirling with yearn and lust. you were so down under that you couldn’t take the teasing anymore. no matter how much you like it.

your hand curls around harry’s wrist and you slowly pull him out of your mouth. out of concern, harry stops all of his movements immediately.

“what’s wrong, baby?”

“just need you…no more teasing, daddy. please,” your eyes were getting glossy from how much your cunt ached for him, leaking with your arousal until it soaked the sheets beneath you. harry’s worried expression morphed into a nonchalant smirk that had his hand resuming its torture on your clit. harry knows that if you were seriously uncomfortable, you would have used your safe word. so if or when that happens, you’ll both know it’s for real. but for now, harry knows that you’re just being a needy, little girl.

“oh, but you know how much i love teasing, darlin’,” harry says condescendingly, the pace of his fingers speeding up. a sigh wavers out of you and transforms into a moan, melting completely at his movements. “i thought you liked teasing, no?”

harry pinches your bud, which causes you to shriek and jump. the second your body relaxes again, harry slides two of his digits easily into your soaked cunt. you inhale strongly, finally being filled in the spot that aches the most.

his fingers curl dangerously while shifting and twisting. his movements are so cruelly good, it should be illegal to make someone this high purely off of euphoria. when your eyes screw closed and your neck tenses above the pillow, you almost miss harry’s words being whispered right below your ear.

“see? you like m’teasing,” his breath fans over your skin before he kisses it softly. his fingers continue to curl inside of you, causing you to whimper underneath him as he subtly bites your neck.

you felt yourself clench around him, desperate for the release you’ve been craving all morning. after a certain stroke of your clit and a harsh love bite on your neck, your muscles tense. spasming, your legs shut over harry’s skillful hand. but of course, he’s not having that.

“nuh uh, baby. open, now,” he demanded huskily. with an awfully loud whine, you obey slowly, widening your legs before his torture on your cunt becomes ruthless.

harry pumps in and out of you faster, digits twisting deliciously. your needy cries and slushy arousal are the only noises in the room. harry breathes deeply against your chest, praising you to come, but you’re too dazed to hear him. his teeth graze your painfully erect nipple, which causes your body to shake overbearingly.

“daddy, please!” you cried, and he grunted against your chest in response.

your core clenches so tightly, you thought you might explode. and in a way, you did. your orgasm floods over you incredibly hard, making your vision a bit spotty. you screw your eyes, letting your body tense and then eventually relax. while you were breathing heavy, harry lowered himself and licked you clean, causing you to squirm from overstimulation.

“did so good f’me, love,” harry praised, kissing you gently on the lips. you could taste yourself on him, which made your insides tingle all over again. “how are you? still feelin’ floaty?”

you nod. “still want you inside of me, daddy.”

“i did say i would take care of ya, didn’t i?” you hummed in response. “well, let daddy get undressed first.”

so, like earlier, you watched him get undressed like it was the most fascinating show in the world. each button he plucked undone made you squirm a little more, and as he noticed this, he took his sweet time. it was torture. sweet, loving torture. but you still wanted him to hurry up, so he can bury himself inside of you forever.

after watching him seduce you for what felt like hours, he’s hovering over your impatient body. your pussy got soaked and sore just looking at him, but are you surprised? not one bit. he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever set your eyes on, and the fact that he’s yours drives you a little more crazy every day.

speaking of attractive, his voice is breathy and rough right below your ear. as his body slots in between yours, you feel his cock rub up against your tensed thigh. you withhold a whimper, but you’re desperate for him. the painful throbbing of your clit gets more threatening every minute he’s not inside of you. your whole body shivers at what’s to come.

“tell me how bad ya want it,” he rasps, rough fingers kneading your sore nipples. you release the whimper, head filling up with overwhelming lust.

“daddy, please! i want you…need your cock inside of me, please,” you moaned as his length rubbed over your soaking folds. he massages himself back and forth, really torturing you now. your eyes roll back in impatience and neediness.

harry lifts his cock barely over your clit and thumps it down. you gasp as a shock shoots through your body. he repeats the action a few more times, loving the reaction he seems to pull from you.

“so responsive. you’re a needy, little girl tonight. guess you do need it bad,” harry condescends before thumping his tip over your clit again. your legs spasm from the stimulation, wetness constantly leaking from your neglected hole. “just makin’ sure you’re ready for me.”

“i’m more than ready, daddy,” you bite your lip, chewing on it in anticipation. he doesn’t hesitate to pull your lip away from your teeth and stuff his fingers inside to replace them. you hum joyfully as you such on his digits for the third time just tonight, cunt clutching from the feeling.

with your reassuring words, harry finally urges his tip through your hole and tucks his length inside of you. both of your groans intertwine before harry begins to move, causing your groans to transform into broken gasps.

for a few moments, his pace was slow and you thought it was going to be that type of night. the type of night where harry is slow, sensual, and loving because you were so deep in your headspace. but that wasn’t what you wanted right now. what you wanted was for harry to sink as far as he could inside of you until he reached places no man ever could, but him. although the torture was, well, torturous, it’s what you wanted. and harry knew that.

“harder, daddy. need more!” you cried at his lacking pace, when you knew he was just holding himself back.

he was well aware of the fact that you were in subspace, so he knew you were sensitive and vulnerable. he didn’t want to take advantage of you but take care of you. however, he also trusted that if you wanted it harder, you wanted it harder. if you wanted more, you wanted more. sometimes, it was hard for you to express how you feel and what you wanted, like you said, but being in subspace kind of helped with that.

your pleading words spurred harry’s movements to quicken. his thick cock stretches your walls out as if he’s never been inside before. your heavy arousal makes it easy for him to slide back and forth, increasing his pace even faster. harry ruts his hips and you scream out his title around his digits, begging him to let you come.

your teeth nearly bite off his fingers, but you have enough restraint (somehow) to not. your head feels like it’s flying off of your body and you’re seeing yourself from above. it was beyond euphoric; harry rocking barbarically into you while praising dirty things underneath your cries.

“i need to hear you scream f’me,” harry grunts before ripping his fingers from your mouth. you whine at the loss, but it’s quickly covered by a moan when his saliva-coated hand circles your clit.

harry’s having a hard time keeping it together. he almost came the second he entered you, so watching you practically wither underneath him and scream daddy until the entire neighborhood could hear was about to send him into shock. but at the same time, that’s exactly what he wanted; he wanted everyone to know that you were his and only his.

“who do you belong to? hmm?” harry asked, voice soaking in lust. as his thrusts become harder, your hips buck towards him, causing his cock to sink even deeper inside of you. groaning loudly, you both melt in the proximity of each other.

“you, daddy! only you, always you!” you respond with your head thrown back against the pillow, eyes screwed shut. your cunt squeezes his length, never wanting to let go of him. never wanting him to leave.

“that’s right, angel. i want the whole neighborhood to know,” his pink lips kiss your chest, cherishing it. his voice was hitting the lowest octaves, ones you didn’t even know existed. similarly, his cock was so deep within you, you didn’t know it could go that far.

your mind was beyond hazy, blurring what was real and what was in your head. he continues to kiss your chest, abuse your clit, and ram his length into your pussy. again, you didn’t know such things were possible. how can one man do so much at once? it was a mystery that you didn’t have too much time to dwell on because before you knew it, you were coming.

the blissful high always hits you unexpectedly. one second, you’re higher than the clouds and screaming until your voice is gone, and then the next, your body is as tight as an angered fist and you’re coming. your second orgasm spills out of you impatiently, just like you had been all night long. white liquid surrounds his cock and overflows out of your cunt, seeping your folds. watching and waiting for you to come undone was the only thing harry needed to join you. he shoots his load into your velvety cunt, painting your walls white. the feeling of harry coming inside of you was indescribably comforting. it made you feel full, and that’s all you’ve been wanting the whole night.

after tucking his seed inside to make sure none leaks out, he does his pre-aftercare ritual. harry kisses practically every inch of your body until you’re a mushy mess in the bed. while he does this, you feel yourself shift from one mental state to another. you may have been vulnerable all day, but now, you finally feel like yourself again. he waits until you’re squirming in overstimulation and pulling him by his hair to stop before finally kissing your lips.

your erratic heart softens at the kiss, lips molding passionately together. you wish you would stay forever in his bed, in his arms. but things needed to be done.

“how are you, love?” harry rests himself on his elbows, brushing some wild hair out of your face. with a dopey smile, you yawn before any words get out. “tired?”

“i’m good. thank you, harry,” you crane your neck upwards to peck his lips again. his wide smile is contagious, causing you to reflect it back at him.

“now, i know you’re tired, baby, but you gotta get in the bath.”

“ugh,” you dramatically groan. “but it’s so far away.”

“good thing i can carry you,” he winks, “just maybe not that attitude.”

—

tags: @crybabyddl @raajali3 @tiaamberxx @alwaysclassyeagle

crossed out= not able to tag

[therapyandprozac]

Title: Breed Me

Rating: Explicit

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: BREEDing kink, vibrator, honorifics, edging m!receiving, cock warming, seriously on the breeding thing though

Description: You’ve been texting and teasing him all day at work, when he gets home you pull a wild card he can’t help himself. (No name is used for the man so have fun with it (I was envisioning Frankie Morales tho🙈))

The sound of your heavy front door opening and closing makes your heart drop like you’re on a fighter jet. Feeling yourself get wetter as the anticipation builds. His shoes on the hardwood is the only sound in the house, you listen and hear him coming straight to your office.

“How did he know I’d be in here?” You think to yourself, you thought for sure he’d check the bedroom first, but this is better.

*click*

*click*

Followed by silence, you feel yourself quiver at the anticipation building in your cunt. He stands outside the door, you can feel him smiling through the door, he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. You hear his wedding ring tap on the metal door handle followed by the twisting of the knob he shoves the door wide open.

He sees you sitting on the bed, legs spread playing with a small vibrator glistening in your fingers. Barely enough to do anything but agonizing-ly tease yourself. He groans and memorizes the view in front of his eyes. He slowly walks up to you and drags his fingers over your flesh. He grabs your leg and kisses each joint before placing it back on the bed. Picking up your arm and doing the same but sucking your shiney fingers into his warm and inviting mouth before climbing on top of you. Turning off the vibrator, tucking it into his pocket for later.

“I want to watch you.” He whispers against your ear.

“Watch me do what?” You ask coyly, but he can see right through it. He glared at you clearly not in the mood for this brattiness. He purred a warning under his breath.

“Play with yourself, without your toy.” His voice was sharp and rough like rusty iron but smooth and like a stiff drink. Whimpers and soft whines pull out of you as you lazily massage your cunt, aware that you were doing just short of what he asked. When his eyes shifted from gentle to that primal darkness he kept hidden, the one you loved to see and tease. “You know that's not what I asked for.” He burns his eyes into yours, you smile and lean up to kiss him. He kisses you like he'd been aching and desperately waiting to get home to you all day. You taste the tobacco on his breath. He rarely smoked unless he was unbearably stressed. Your brain melts before you kiss him deeper. A little stress relief will do him well, you think.

“I know sir, but you've had a long day, could I blow you?” You whisper against his rough five o’clock shadow. He smirks, loving hearing the desperation and pleading in your voice.

“Mmm good girl manners, knees.” He cups your cheek and licks into your mouth, kisses so gentle, words so filthy. Such a contradiction shouldn't be possible but here he is your paradox. He pulls you to the floor, hands gripped into your hair. He used his other hand to unbutton his jeans and pulled his cock free of its restraints. The moment you see skin, you dive in smelling and licking whatever flesh your mouth can find. He doesn't need to adjust you to a better position, between your eagerness and perfect practiced skill you push him to the edge before stopping completely just holding his delicious cock in your mouth. You can feel him want to fight and just face fuck you but he knows its better if he’s patient and you edge him a bit. Repeatedly you bring him just to his breaking point and feel semi in control, just as you have that thought.

You can't breathe, his thick cock fully occupies your entire air passageway. Just before you pass out he pulls you off by your hair, smirking as you choke and cough. As soon as you catch your breath your throat is jammed full of cock once more. Eagerly you lick and suck all that you can but his hand tied into your hair maintaining most of the control. You can tell he’s weighing whether or not to just cum down your throat. The next time he lets you up you lock eyes and make your argument. Saliva, pre cum and tears cover your face, with a smirk he runs his thumb across your abused lips.

“Breed me god please!” His eyes widen his shock plainly evident on his face, breeding was always one of his semi-hidden kinks. You have said multiple times that it's not really your thing. So his face is puzzled but once that passes he moans just imagining making you entirely…his.

“I love the offer but you've said it was not your thing, are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“Of course I am! I wasn't when we first got together but it's been so long since I've touched you and,” you pause thinking of the night before. “I’m ovulating.” You break into a ramble “I need you, I need you to cum inside me please. I want to grow your seeds, please fuck a baby into me.” He throws you onto the bed. You shuffle up the bed only to be grabbed by a large hand pulling you back to the foot of the bed. Your legs fall to either side of the man you love completely towering over you. He looks at your cunt like it's been taunting, teasing him for ages. He loves you and would never do something you didn’t want but he has wanted nothing more than to fuck you and fill you up. His thoughts are going a million miles a second when he finally speaks.

“Are you sure?” A final line of consent, a confirmation that this is what you want as well.

“Please please daddy I haven't been able to stop thinking about your cock inside me, feeling you and the incessant drilling into my eager, aching womb.” You plead, all shame and worries disappear as you beg for him to breed your throbbing cunt. He completely lets go, innumerable fantasies coming to fruition for him. He doesn't waste a second, immediately balls deep inside you, unmoving as you both adjust to the sudden pleasure a chorus of moans and groans escape from both of you.

“You’ve been texting me all day, teasing and playing.” Taking your nipple in his mouth, you roll your hips asking for more.

“It was so much fun, imagining your face when I sent you that picture of my tits.” You smirk making eye contact as he bites your nipple before dropping it to bounce.

“Was this your plan, the whole day?” He kisses up your neck.

“I had a dream you were fucking me while I was pregnant and decided to ahH OHH GOD!” He picks up the pace, losing all control and growling as he bites your neck. “It was so hot I needed you, needed this.” You shout between thrusts, his mouth not leaving that spot, you're going to have a hickey tomorrow for sure but it’s more than worth it. At least everyone will know your his, if the ring on your finger didn’t do that already. He reaches his thumb to your clit and plays it like an instrument, your eyes roll to the back of your head as the first orgasam shakes your body.

“Good girl.” He licks up your neck before biting your earlobe.

“Please god please more need more!” You stretch your arm and grab a pillow placing it under your back. He smirks and adjusts it to where it’s most effective, he’s been wanting this for so long and you love showing him you’ve been listening.

“God I’ve wanted to make you mine for so long.” His voice is rough, you can hear how close he is in his voice. He finds his pocket on the floor and the vibrator you had earlier and sets it to max before caressing it against your clit. Your limbs fully extend and glue to the bed grasping for the sheet, you cry out his name as you cum immediately. His thrusts become erratic as his orgasam rocks through his well toned body. He collapses breathlessly on top of you. Wrapping your legs up and around him, both to hold him and keep him inside you but also because keeping your legs up helps conception.

“I should feed into this kink more often. It brings out something indescribably hot in you.” A rare blush covers his face before he silently locks his lips with yours.

“You really wanted that?” He whispers

“More than anything. I’ve wanted to start a family with you for a while and last night was not the first time I’ve had that dream.” You laugh softly to yourself remembering something from a week ago.

“What?” He asked with a smirk.

“A couple days ago I woke up from that dream, soaking wet and reached to find you but you were at work. So I used my big toy on my own, it was my day off so I took my time.” You end with a wink.

“How many times?” He mumbles against your skin, covering your eyes with your hands in feigned embarrassment. He puts his arm to the side of your head and groans as you gasp while he pulls out softly. He moves one of your hands away from your eye and repeats his question. You don’t answer and just extend all five of your fingers, as a blush creeps up your freshly flushed chest.

“Next time, call me.” He kisses down your neck before laying his ear to your chest.

“You were at work!”

“Call me.” He mumbles before he falls asleep, you play with his hair. Focusing on the warmth in your cunt and the weight of your husband pressing you into your bed you fall asleep with a smile painted on your face.

My notes: this was just called “🥖” in my docs. I’m not not embarrassed posting this so if you liked it please let me know 🙈

[macbethsymphony]

Charlou my beloved you indulge me too much <3 Now let me tell you about something that's been on my mind today *insert evil laugh* Office setting. Sabo just craving to see you unravel. You're all proper and stone cold all the time and this man just wants to see you break also like GLOVE KINK ok bye~

-M✨

MILLIE!!! My love keep them coming I love it! Also babe we're on the same wavelength it's literally the plot of my WIP Overworked & Underfucked (but kinda not an office setting, you are Dragon's secretary though) NOW you are absolutely EVIL for sending this to me at 9am, on a day we both know I'm spending at the office... babe you had me thinking about this man all day long BUT I'll still indulge you. Who am I to refuse your amazing ideas?

MDNI, 18+, Sabo fantasizes about fucking you 💕 Wrote this on my phone, excuse the shit grammar

As Sabo fisted his cock he couldn’t help but imagine how you’d look beneath him.

He craved to see you unravel, craved to see that stone cold exterior crack. You, always so prim and proper, you, always so composed and efficient, forever found a way to enrapture his attention. Every meeting was torture, unable to concentrate on a single word uttered in them, the entirety of his attention drifting to the thought of fucking you on that table.

Fuck he’d do it in front of everyone too if it meant he could have you right there and then.

He couldn’t help but wonder how your jaded gaze would look broken by rapture. He couldn't help but imagine how you'd look under him.

He’d draw out the moment, gloved fingers in your dripping cunt, always stopping as you’d approach ecstasy. He’d make you beg.

Fuck.

Oh yes, he’d make you beg. Implore him for release.

Gods above, he yearned to hear you plead. Words broken by sobs, your pretty lips reddened by your teeth biting into them in bliss.

The thought of your cheeks stained by makeup blurred tears made his hips twitch, a loud groan escaping his lips and a bead of precum forming at his tip.

He bet your moans were the sweetest sounds to ever grace the earth.

Wait.

Were you the type to mewl out in pleasure at every touch? Or were you the type to keep silent? Didn’t matter if you were, he’d simply shove his fingers down your throat if you denied him the pleasure of hearing you. Keep those lovely lips open, make it impossible for you to muffle out your moans.

He tightened his grip so not to come too fast, the pleasure of his fantasy too sweet to let it go right away.

Fuck he was close.

He longed to feel you twitch around him. He’d make you come again and again. Once for every orgasm he’d denied you. He’d have your eyes rolling at the back of your skull and your toes curling in pleasure. He’d fuck you so hard he’d have to remind you to fucking breathe.

Yes.

By the time he’d be done with you, you’d be a twitching mess, thighs trembling, hole spasming as he’d come inside you once again. He bet there’d be a pool of both your arousals staining that shitty wood table. Staining your pretty thighs, dripping to the floor.

But even then he wouldn’t be done with you.

Oh no, then he’d quench his thirst by eating you out. He’d suck on your oversensitive clit and hold your thighs open as you’d struggle against him, body twisting in oversensitivity.  Yes, he’d eat you out until you passed out.

His hips twitched, brow furrowing into concentration.

Maybe he’d go at it again after that. Make sure you’d come back to the land of the living with your back arching and your hole spasming around his cock.

Fuck yes.

He craved you. Hungered to break that frozen façade.

The movements of his hips were erratic, cum staining the leather of his glove, a shaky moan, and unsteady pants filling the storage closet he was hiding in.

He hastily grabbed a random rag, cleaned himself up quickly, and rearranged his tipping hat before casually strolling out of the closet as though nothing happened.

He was, after all, already late for his next meeting.

[milf-murdock]

Your writing is literally phenomenal - sincerely, someone who just binged your entire masterlist!! 💗 If you’re interested in this, I’d love to see dark!simon doting on reader when she’s finally pregnant 🤭 I’m sure he’d wait on her hand and foot, soothing and comforting her, but also being so smug because he’s literally a mastermind who’s been planning this for ages

Thank you so much for the kind words, love 🥹🥹 Comments like this mean the world to me and inspire me so much to keep writing 🖤

I fucking loooooooved this ask. When I tell you my brain was instantly just braining. However, I must be fully honest with you 😔 This is so fucking soft. Just. Wildly. Absurdly. Tooth-rottingly sweet. It turns out once dark!Simon actually gets her pregnant he just melts into the sweetest softie ever (shh don't tell anyone). Thinking about writing another part that's filthy smut with dark!Simon and his pregnant girl but I was just so excited about this fluff I wanted to share it lemme know if anyone would want to see that tho

Anyways, here's Simon helping her with morning sickness, Simon hearing the heartbeat for the first time, and Simon feeling them kick for the first time 🥺

Warnings: pregnancy, female reader, mentions of doctors offices, morning sickness, vomiting

Part 1 can be found here and Part 2 (NSFW) can be found here

Simon’s eyes blinked open as he registered your movements. The sound of your footsteps on the floor echoed through the room as you raced to the bathroom. His response was automatic as he rose out of bed, blinking the last dregs of sleep away as he followed your steps to find you kneeling on the cool tile in front of the toilet, dry heaving into the porcelain bowl. It seemed more often than not your mornings started this way. With no hesitation he knelt down on one knee beside you, pulling your hair up and away from your face into a loose pony tail held in his hand. His other hand rubbed soothing circled on your back, gently stroking up and down as he murmured soothing words. 

“I’m sorry, love. ’M sure this bit’s almost over.” 

As if on cue, you wretched once more into the bowl and Simon grimaced at his own poor timing. With a gasp you laid your head on your forearm against the toilet seat, eyes closed while you struggled to catch your breath, one hand rising up to flush the contents down the drain. Simon released your hair and rose to grab a cloth from the cupboard, running it under cool water and wringing it out. 

“Remember, doc said this was all completely normal. Good even, really.” Simon’s voice was nearly as comforting as the cool washcloth he pressed against the back of your neck. “Means the baby is developing and your body’s changing and whatnot.” You finally raised your head up, taking the cloth from Simon and running it over your face. 

“Yeah, still fucking sucks though,” you muttered before leaning back into Simon, his strong arms wrapping around you to pull you into him. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as one hand snaked down to rest against your abdomen. 

“It’ll pass, babe.” Simon pressed another kiss to your temple. “Besides, you’re still stunning.” 

You raised your head off his chest, shooting him the most menacing glare you could muster. “Not in the mood for your sarcasm, Si,” you grumbled. 

Simon brushed a strand of hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. “Not sarcasm, babe. I mean it. You’re glowing.” 

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the soft smile that tugged at the edges of your lips. “Whatever, you’re gettin’ soft.” 

“Don’t I know it,” Simon agreed, pressing another kiss to your cheek before rising and helping you off the floor. “Come on, I’ll go make us a tea.”

___________

It was a well known fact that Simon hated hospitals. And doctors. And, well, really any kind of medical setting. Simon shifted anxiously in the uncomfortable plastic chair next to your exam bed. The sterile smell of medical suite was practically burning his nostrils. His leg bounced up and down at a rapid pace, one hand gripped tight on his knee and the other gripping yours in a similar hold. He looked around the room, taking in all the infographic posters explaining the various stages of pregnancy, health adverts, and more.

“Si.” Your gentle tone pulled Simon from his thoughts, his eyes drifting back to your face. “Relax,” you reminded him softly. “It’s okay. I’m here with you.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes drift from yours down to your abdomen. He swore you were beginning to show, just the barest hint of a swell to your belly. 

There was a knock at the door and then the friendly technician entered, introducing herself to you and Simon before placing a paper drape over your lap and having you lay back. You shifted your shirt up whilst she set up for the ultrasound, giving Simon an excited smile as you settled in.

“Oh that’s warm,” you commented as the tech squeezed a light gel onto your bare skin. 

“Yeah, we have a little warmer we keep it in, just something to help make the mum’s a bit more comfortable,” she commented as she started pressing the wand to your belly. 

Simon’s eyes flicked to the screen, the waves of black and grey indecipherable as the tech  moved around your stomach. 

“Ah, there we go. See? Right….here.” The nurse tapped to a black shape on the screen as she pressed the wand a little deeper into your skin. “There’s your baby.” She tapped a few buttons on her keyboard, taking a picture. “Would you like to hear the heartbeat?” 

You nodded enthusiastically, but Simon couldn’t even get a word out. His own heart was racing so fast, his eyes staring at the screen, taking it all in. His baby. There were no words to adequately describe the pure joy, excitement, and absolute terror he was feeling. Y

You and Simon clung to each other, your joined hands serving as a lifeline for you both, tethering you to this moment. You and Simon each hold your breath, unsure what you’re waiting for. 

And then there’s a whoosh, and the sound of a steady heartbeat fills the room. Tears instantly filled your eyes. “Oh my god, Si,” you whispered. “That’s their heartbeat.” 

Simon’s own eyes were misty as he took it all in. “Yeah, babe. That’s our baby.” He blinked the tears away, internally urging himself to keep it together. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. “There they are.” 

______

Simon was upstairs tackling the crib that he had been so fucking sure he didn’t need the fucking instructions for, only to find out that the damn pieces weren’t locking into place the way they were supposed to. “Bloody hell,” he growled, tearing through the mess of cardboard and styrofoam to find where he had tossed aside that bloody manual. 

A shout from downstairs had him freezing in place, his blood running cold as the bottom dropped out of his stomach. 

“Simon! Come here! Quick!” You shouted from your place on the couch, urgency in your voice. 

Simon dropped the drill to the floor, racing down the hall and flying down the stairs as fast as his feet could carry him. His mind spiraled, thinking through doctor’s numbers, fastest route to the hospital, or should he call an ambulance? No, he was positive he could drive faster. He rounded the corner, eyes wide and fixed on you. 

“What’s wrong? What’s happened? Are you okay? Is it the baby?” His questions rushed out like word vomit as he strode to your side. He dropped to one knee, a protective hand resting on your pronounced bump, eyes flitting from you to your stomach. 

“What?” You asked, brows furrowing in confusion at the panic-stricken man panting before you. “No, I’m fine Si, just…here…feel,” you commanded, grabbing his hand and moving it to the lower left side of your stomach. “Wait for it…” you muttered. Simon was still trying to calm his racing heart, trying to take in the fact that you seemed perfectly fine. In fact, if anything, you seemed slightly annoyed. 

“Darling, what—” 

“Shhh!” You snapped. “Wait for it.” 

And then Simon felt it. A little force pressing against his hand, a fleeting sensation that was over as soon as it started. 

Simon’s eyes widened. “Was that?” 

“Mmhmm,” you squealed with a smile. 

“They kicked,” Simon laughed, pure awe on his face. He pressed his hand a little harder against your swollen mound, moving his hand just slightly to the right. He lowered his face to your stomach. “Come on, love, let’s see that again.” As if on cue, he felt a swift kick to his palm. Your laugh mingled with Simon’s as the radiant joy overtook you both. 

“He likes your voice,” you commented, smiling down at your bump and placing your hand atop Simon’s. 

“Of course she does,” Simon teased back. You weren’t finding out the gender in advance, wanting to be surprised. You each had your own suspicions though. At the sound of his voice, another kick hit his palm, harder than both the previous ones, causing you to wince. “Oi,” Simon jokingly chided, giving a stern look to your bump. “Take it easy on your mum. She’s working hard to grow you nice and strong.” Another strong kick. 

“Looks like we have a future football star on our hands,” you commented was you rubbed a hand against your sore swollen side. 

“Maybe they’ll play for Man U.” Simon pressed a kiss to your bump, right where the last kick was before rising off the floor to sit next to you on the couch. His lips found yours, kissing you with a fierceness that took your breath away. “Thank you, love.” His voice was soft as he pulled back from the kiss. “For this. For all of it. This is the greatest gift.” 

[sensei-venus]

i am more than happy to give you karate kid requests! i just thought you would rather write for the cobra kai characters, so i never sent anything in. with that, would you be down to write something young!daniel x female reader where the two of them sneak out of class to make out in the janitor's closet? a bit smutty but not too heavy, mostly just focused on the kissing? it's a concept i find so hot but there aren't any fics out there for it. 😫 let me know if you get this ask because i know tumblr likes to eat them sometimes. take care!

(Unedited) (Support the Writer🌺) (Young!Daniel being…Young!Daniel??,Kissing, Slight Make out, Slight Grouping, Kissing in a closet at school)

Reader narrowed as she looked across the crowded classroom. Eyes falling onto her boyfriend who sat only a row ahead of her. His head was down as he finished working on his class assignment. Daniel always had a thing for trying to finish every single piece of class work before the bell rang. Because he was to lazy to take it home and do it for homework.

She rolled her eyes out of love for the boy and briefly looked away. In that split second her eyes meet the teachers. The older women sat at the front of the class at her over populated desk. Folders and papers where scattered over the dark stained wood. A large stack of book sat on the very corner.

“Reader would you mind running these up to the front office for me? Someone requested them and seeing as we aren’t using them, they need to be returned.”

Reader nodded quickly and studs up from her seat. She walked down the aisle and row of desks and passed some of her peers, no one seemed to take notice. She picked up the stack of books and tried her best to balance them in her grasp. The large stack wobbled a bit in her hold making her jerk a little. For a moment she thought they would tip out of her hands and fall to the floor. Luckily they didn’t as a pair of strong hands held hers steady. She sighed out on relief as she regained her balance of the heavy books.

A few books where removed and she was finally able to see who the person was who helped her. It was Daniel, he grinned her way as he took some of the books.

“Daniel if you could help her to the office with those? They are quiet heavy.”

“Of course miss! Be right back.”

Daniel gave a cheeky smile to the women before leading the way out of the class room. Reader was slow to follow behind him. The books weighing her down a little. They walked side by side as they made their way to the office.

Daniel smirked at her saying “So did you really need help or did you just want to to rush in and save the day.” He wiggled his brows at her. Rolling her eyes she scoffed “Oh yeah because I needed mister save the day to come to my rescue for some text books falling.” She tried to play off the earlier events. He chuckled at her clearly embarrassed expression.

“If it wasn’t for the fact that I love you I would have kicked you in the kneecaps.”

“Baby it’s to late in the day for that kind of violence.”

“Oh lover boy it’s definitely not.”

The trip to the office was quick to say the very least. The front office lady was to busy trying to organize returned piles of text books to even notice them. The two teens just stuffed to each other before setting the books down on the counter and leaving.

The wall back to class was more interesting then the walk up.

Daniel slowly inched closer to her until their shoulders touched. One of his hands snacking around her waist. He was lucky no one was in the hall way because he definitely would have gotten the two of them put into after school detention. He pulled her close, chucking a little and sucked hid front teeth. His lips where right by her ear when he said “How about we make a little detour for a minute. So we can have a little fun~”

Reader wanted to laugh as he tried to pull wool over her eyes. She knew what he wanted pretty clearly.

“We are not doing that in school today-“

“Not that, though I would be down for it. I mean a little kiss, or should I say a little kissing. Plural~”

They looked around for a split second to make sure the hall was still clear before taking off toward the closest janitor closet. Luck for them it was unlocked. Daniel quickly pulled her in and shut the door behind them, he flicked on a old dim light over head. It only brightened the room a bit and put a show of her face as he looked at her. The room was cramped, barely holding them.

Reader grew a little excited as they both tried to stay quiet. Hoping no one would hear them in the closet and get them caught. She had to cover her mouth to stop the small giggle that bubbled out as Daniel looked back at the door for a split second before back to her. He smirks as his hands find her waist again, running up her hips and sides. He bends down a little and moves closer to her. His eyes lidded as he looks down at her.

Their lips meet gently, soft and sweet. Daniel’s lips are soft and warm against hers. Pillowy and sweet and make her melt inside from just their very touch. She wished that she could lie and say he was a bad kisser, but he wasn’t.

Daniel LaRusso was a great kisser. He knew every trick in the book to make her knees week. He used his tricks to silence her every time their lips meet. Playing her like he knew every single button to make she swoon. She feel for it every single time.

Her breath hitched as he felt up her sides and ghosted over her breasts. He smirked into the kiss and swollowed every tiny noice she made. Moans bubbled up from her chest and passsed her lips.

Her eyes fluttering when his tongue slid along her bottom lip asking for entry. She allowed him to part her lips. Their tongues shyly meeting and playing together. Reader gripped onto the boys shoulders as things got more intense. Her nails digging into his shirt as they slam into each other. It’s only a matter of time before they half way part only to go back in. Lips meeting once again.

They are so caught up in each other they they barely register the sound of loud voices out inside the hallway. They jerk back from each other for a moment. Panting out they hold on to each other, a think layer of spit connecting them before it silently snaps. Ending their connection. They both stare at the door intently. Eyes never leaving the light stained wood door.

“Johnny that’s sick man! How did you score that?”

“Shit up man, don’t ask don’t tell. Now come on so we can go smoke this weed. That asshat principle almost caught us the last time we tried to light one up in the bathroom. I want to get one in before pe.”

The sound of Dutch and Johnny slowly faded down the hallway. Only the sound of their shoes lingered in the air.

Daniel coughed lightly, still flustered from the idea of possibly getting caught. Reader zipped her lips tight as she looked up to him. Eyes big and round. Blinking a few times to put on a little charm.

“Man you really try and act all innocent like I didn’t just have my tongue in your mouth.”

“Humm but I think you like that about me don’t you??”

She giggled as the boy sweeper down and smashed his lips to hers.

Starting a sloppy make out session all over again.

[touteslespetiteschosess]

Love To Hate Me || Kylian Mbappé

Chapter 6 : Liar, Liar

Plot: A surprise return makes y/n question her relationship with Kylian.

Word Count: 1902

A/N: In celebration of Kyky's birthday, here's an update xxx

Chapter 5 Masterlist

Y/n's phone began to buzz loudly on her desk; she sighed and rose from her desk, a small smile gracing her face at the sight of her brother's name. Taking the phone, she headed out of her office, deciding she was in need of some fresh air anyway.

"Hey, James." she smiled, answering the call.

"Hey, y/n. You busy?"

"I'm at work but I'm owed a break anyway. Speaking of, shouldn't you be working?"

"The kids are on lunch, so I thought I'd see my little sis' is doing."

Her brother, James, was a primary school teacher back in the UK. He was two years older than her and growing up, the pair had been incredibly close. Nowadays, they didn't get the chance to talk as much, between their two busy jobs and their entirely separate lives in different countries.

"I'm good."

"Still having a hard time at work?"

As she strolled down the corridor, she sighed, "Well, the lack of headlines says not. It's calmed down a little."

"Good, you deserve a rest."

"Well, I'll have time for a rest when the transfer window closes. Until then I'll just have to suck it up."

As she strolled past Luis' office, the coach's door swung open. James continued to chat, "With the wage you're on, they're not paying you to relax." he chuckled but y/n had stopped listening to a word he was saying. From Enrique's office, not only did the coach emerge but so did Kylian. Her heart stopped.

It had been two weeks since their evening togehter as well as two weeks since she'd seen him at all. By the time her alarm had gone off- 5am- he'd slipped out, every trace of him gone, save a large, white hoodie he'd left on her bathroom floor.

Sure, she'd enjoyed the night with him; he was handsome, and good in bed, and he'd held her in his arms as they fell asleep, and it'd made her feel safe and loved and... She didn't care that he'd left in the night or that he hadn't called after that. It had been a one night thing, they'd both known that. He was leaving PSG, so what was the harm?

It was just a goodbye fuck, knowing they'd probably never see each other again. An acceptance of their attractions and their urges, admitting them to one another before he faded into TV screens and perfume adverts. So why was he here now?

"James, I've gotta go, I'll call you later though, alright?"

She didn't wait for a response before she hung up.

"Y/n, just the woman I was looking for!" Enrique grinned.

She turned around, her eyes fixed on Luis, stringently avoiding acknowledging Kylian's presence. She forced a smile, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yes, Kylian and I finalised his contract yesterday. Elizabeth is bringing a file containing the details over to you. I need you to draft a press release about his return ASAP."

She faltered, "Kylian's coming back?"

The footballer cleared, his throat, "Yes, I am."

She shot him a glare before looking back at Luis, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I am doing."

"Okay, but some advance notice would have been nice, given that it involves my department."

"Well, this is your advance notice, so I'd appreciate it if you'd have the statement drafted and sent over to me within the hour."

With that, Luis nodded firmly and marched off; Kylian's feet were glued to the ground beneath him and he gawped at her like a goldfish. Her scowl deepened and she hesitated momentarily, as though she was going to say something. Then she spun around, her hair whipping after her, and stormed off.

Two or three days had passed since Kylian had appeared at the training centre and y/n hadn't seen the man since. Much to her dismay, she'd had to schedule in and would have to attend a press conference regarding Kylian's reintegration, which she'd announced on social media earlier that day. Now, her chances of avoiding the man in question were significantly decreased.

Sporting black suit trousers and a long-sleeved bodysuit, she walked into the press conference room. She lingered at the back for a few seconds, arms folded over her chest, holding a stack of files tightly as she surveyed the room. Tens if not hundreds of journalists sat on the rows of chairs in front of her. There was a loud hum of chatter as expectant glances were cast at the panel in front of them.

She slipped back outside and headed for the room Luis waited in. As she stepped in, she was met by the sight of not only Luis but Kylian and his father.

She smiled tightly, "Good morning."

"Miss y/l/n, good to see you."

"Sorry, I'm late. I was just running a little behind schedule, but here are some cards for you to read from." she rushed over to Luis and handed him a stack of prewritten cards. She spun around to the player who watched her carefully, "Kylian." she spat, placing the cards in his hand.

Her skin brushed his, he was close enough that she could smell his unforgettable scent. His warm, soft skin on hers took her back to that night. All of a sudden, it was like his hands were all over her again, squeezing, exploring, rubbing. She could hear his voice, calling out her name, singing her praises. She could feel his hands on her tits as he pressed kisses up her neck, on her lips, her cheeks, anywhere he could. They were tangled in his soft sheets, her legs wrapped like a vice around his waist as he held her so easily, like she weighed nothing more than a feather.

"Y/n."

He'd cried out, chanting her name like a prayer. But no, he really was speaking now. He said her name, his thumb grazing her palm as she handed over the cards. He spoke quietly, almost whispering her name.

She cast him a fleeting, strange glance before turning back to Luis, "Are you ready to go?"

He nodded and she headed out into the wilderness, where the pack of reporters were gathered. At the sight of the doors opening, they all began to clamour before seeing it was only y/n.

She stepped up to the panel and spoke into one of the microphones, "Bonjour à tous et merci d'être venus. Il y aura une section pour les questions à la fin. Et maintenant, Luis et Kylian."

Cameras began to flash as everyone turned to the door she'd emerged from. She stepped down from the raised panel and stood to the side of the room. As the footballer and his coach took their place before all of the cameras, Kylian's father came up beside her.

She glanced up at him and offered him a small, polite smile, before turning her gaze back to the press conference which was starting. Luis began speaking, though she didn't understand a word of his Spanish.

"So, you're the one who's been sabotaging my son's career?"

He was so nonchalant she wasn't even sure he'd spoken or if it was just a creation of her imagination. She glanced up at him but he just stared straight ahead.

Hesitantly, she replied, "Sorry?"

"You're the one who has been dragging my son's name through the mud?"

"Usually I go by y/n."

"Oh, I know. I've heard all about you, y/n."

"Right." she pursed her lips, "Well, it's all worked out just fine, hasn't it?" she shrugged, nodding her head in the direction of the press conference.

“Hmm, for you.”

She drew back, looking up at the much taller man, “What’s that supposed to mean? I gave him every chance to leave, you are aware that PR doesn’t encompass transfers or contracts. I just broadcast what I’m told.”

“Y/n, I know what is best for my sons and I won’t have anyone getting in the middle of that.”

She frowned, what the hell did that mean? Before she could question his ambiguous statement, there was a flurry of excited voices and her head snapped back to the conference at hand.

Kylian nodded to a journalist, who stood up, "Kylian, pourquoi avez-vous pris la décision de rester à Paris?" Kylian, why have you made the decision to stay in Paris?

"Paris est l'endroit où j'ai grandi. Je tiens à cette équipe, c'est ma famille et je veux le meilleur pour eux." Paris is where I grew up. I care about this team, they are my family and I want the very best for them.

"Mais vous allez devoir quitter cette équipe à un moment donné. Pourquoi pas maintenant?" But you are going to have to leave this team at some point. Why not now?

Maybe y/n was going insane but she swore Kylian glanced at her before he spoke. Surely not. He hadn't called her. He didn't care about her more than her body. Of course, he was probably just looking at his father. But she just felt his gaze deep within her, like the ground beneath her was shaking.

"Je n'ai pas l'impression d'avoir terminé mon travail ici et j'espère encore accomplir davantage" he paused before adding, "avec mon équipe." I don't feel like I have finished my work here and there is still more I hope to achieve... with my team.

A few more questions were asked before the conference ended and they returned to the room next door. Y/n began to regather her files, "That was good, guys." she declared, offering a half-hearted smile, "I hope this puts it all to bed once and for all."

She nodded firmly before starting for the door; she headed out into the quiet corridor and let out a breath she wasn't even aware she'd been holding. It was like stepping out into fresh air, just being out of a room with him. His presence made her sweat and forget how to breath or think or speak.

"Y/n!"

And she couldn't breath again, and the temperature was rising, and she almost tripped over her own feet at the sound of his voice.

She snapped around, "What?"

"Wait."

She blinked at him and when he said nothing more, frowned, "Well?"

"Are you upset with me?"

"Of course not." she spat, sarcasm thick on her tongue.

"What did I do?"

She rolled her eyes and turned to leave again, "Just forget it."

"Y/n!" he yelled. When her pace didn't falter, he chased after her, catching up easily. He caught her arm and a flush immediately raced across her cheeks at the contact, "Y/n! Stop! Is this because I didn't call you after that night?"

"Forget it." she annunciated, still marching on.

"No, not if you're just gonna ignore me!"

She laughed bitterly, "That's rich."

"So it is because I didn't call?"

She spun around so abruptly that he almost crashed into her. "No, it's because you told me you were leaving! I wouldn't have fucked you had I known we were still going to have to work together! I'm mad at you because you lied to me!"

He didn't have time to reply as a door behind them opened and they both swiftly fell silent. Luis and Wilifried both walked out into the corridor, too deep in friendly conversation to notice the heated moment between y/n and Kylian.

She raked her eyes up and down him then quickly disappeared.

Masterlist

[wyverningx]

jeremy's pretty darn good at exy, good enough to secure an athletic scholarship to the best D1 school in california. he doesn't even need to move away from his family to attend, which is a blessing and a curse. things have been somewhat uncomfortable since his mom remarried, but it's fine. he's a freshman at USC, now. he's more free and independent than ever before. the world is his oyster.

he's faced his fair share of sports injuries — who hasn't, given the nature of a contact sport — but the first time he deals with a soft tissue injury as a college athlete hurts more than it did in high school. not necessarily because of the pain, because jeremy's a quick striker but still deals with collisions on the regular, but because being benched for six weeks sucks. he wants to make a name for himself. he wants to shine on the gold court like its namesake.

he gets some vicodin to manage the pain, and it does help.

only —

it starts to help a little too much. it dulls the awkward edge to his family interactions, makes his day-to-day operations a bit more manageable. keeps him in a better mood, relaxed and chilled out, when he's so bored from lack of exercise and stimulation that he starts to go mad.

the doctor gave him a lot of pills. it's fine. he's hurt; he needs them. it's normal.

only —

it's way too easy to get a refill on the prescription. his PCP's been taking care of the knox family for decades, and their office understands jeremy's ambition. they know he's disciplined, given his health and physique. so what's another bottle, or two, for the star athlete of the family?

so it becomes a bit of a habit. it's not a problem, though. being high is just... easier. maybe he doesn't pop the pills for the pain so much anymore, but nobody seems to notice or judge him if he's a little spaced out. there's a lot of mounting pressure once he's back on the court, after all. he missed almost two months of practice. he has to make up for it, because this might be the year the trojans finally take championships and wouldn't it be great, perfect even, if jeremy was responsible for such an accomplishment?

surely nobody can blame him for wanting a little something to take the edge off. he's been to frat parties on campus — bingeing alcohol is so much more of a crutch than a tiny white pill or two.

only —

his family comes home one day after celebrating jeremy's first fall banquet and sees jeremy's brother passed out on the ground, his bottle of pills spilling out across the floor and nonono jeremy only has so many at least they're just on the floor and he can scoop them back into that orange bottle so that he has them for later just in case he needs the safety net but oh god what does it mean that jeremy thought of his stash before his brother's well-being in an obvious suicide attempt, but that's not jeremy's fault. it can't be. he isn't responsible.

right?

[littencloud9]

chuuran + "how did we get here?"

and/or

kunichuuzai + braids

HII <3 have some chuuran post-novel shenanigans. the makeout session is indeed canon to me

—

"How did we get here?" Ranpo asks. Chuuya grits his teeth. "Are you seriously asking me that right now?" Ranpo shrugs. They ran into Chuuya on their way to one of their missions (though Chuuya strongly believes it wasn't accidental, that damn detective loves making his life harder on purpose), and told him they were lost. Somewhere, somehow, Chuuya ended up giving them a ride. Except now they're in the middle of fucking nowhere, even more lost than before. It doesn't help that Chuuya's phone is dead—he had an overnight mission and is utterly exhausted—so they can only wait for one of Ranpo to call one of their coworkers to come pick them up. And, well, Chuuya could just leave Ranpo here and head on home, but the thought of abandoning them when they're so prone to getting lost is a bit unsettling. Not that Chuuya cares about Ranpo. He cares more for the people Ranpo will run into, and make their lives living hell. Someone finally picks up Ranpo's call. "Kunikida-kun! Hello!” Chuuya crosses his arms, leaning against the hood of his car. Ranpo gazes at him, an unnerving smirk on their lips. "Oh, I'm okay. I got lost. But I found company!" There's muffled sounds from their flip phone. Ranpo's grin widens. "Yeah. I'm with Chuuya! Uh huh, that one. Don’t worry, he can’t outsmart me, I’ll be okay.” Chuuya’s eye twitches. “Mhm. I promise we won’t fight. What? Yeah, we won’t fuck either, you—" Chuuya doesn’t hear the rest of it, for he’s too busy choking on his own saliva and giving Ranpo the most appalled stare. The moment Ranpo tucks their phone away, Chuuya explodes. “What the fuck! Why would you say that?!” Ranpo gives him an innocent smile and Chuuya seriously considers homicide. “What? You’ve certainly tried to before.” Chuuya recalls heated kisses hidden from public’s eye and blushes furiously. “We did not fuck in that book. Don’t make shit up.” “Could’ve fooled me with how loud you were—” He slams his hands over their mouth. “Kill yourself,” he hisses, to which Ranpo only laughs again.

kunichuuzai… ougfjfjdkfnfj

—

“Sincerely, Chuuya,” Dazai laments, “you suck at this.” “Shut the fuck up!” Kunikida winces at the slightly harsh tug on his hair. Chuuya immediately apologises, dropping a kiss on his shoulder, before going back to cussing Dazai out. Kunikida likes braiding hair. Sometimes he helps Kyouka or Naomi braid their hair on relaxing days in the office. It gives him something to do with his hands, and it’s an elegant hairstyle to have. However, since he lost his hands and regained them again, his hand tremors have made it hard to do so. Sometimes he can’t even pick up a pen, and it dampens his mood greatly. His hair has remained unbraided since then, and though he won’t say it, it fills his heart with bitterness. That is, until his partners decided to learn how to braid hair. Whether it was for his sake is unclear, but that’s how he ended up here, sitting crisscrossed on the floor, with his hair being tugged in all directions. He can’t see what’s going on, but the side Dazai’s braiding is going notably smoother than Chuuya’s side. Dazai has always been skillful with their hands anyway. Chuuya isn’t bad either, but he keeps falling for Dazai’s provocations, so it’s probably what’s affecting the process. Knowing those idiots, they’ve turned it into a competition for who can braid better anyway. Kunikida smiles to himself. What losers. …He adores them incredibly. When they’re done, Chuuya passes him a mirror. Two twin braids run down his back, tied with red hair ties at the end. They’re a little wonky, but weaved between the strands are layers of love and care. “I love it,” Kunikida whispers. His partners grin at him through the mirror and he can’t help but laugh. “Thank you.”

[darkwing-katy]

The Spider and the Fly Part VII

Pairing: Eventual Leland x Reader (sorta? You’ll see what I mean)

Word Count: 4,071

Summary: All you want to do is get through your online courses and keep your best friend from making bad choices in men. But there’s this creepy therapist who is absolutely insisting on you making an appointment with him. Who the hell is this Leland Townsend, and why won’t he leave you alone?!

Part seven of seven. Takes place sometime around/between/during season three.

The series is inspired heavily by my favorite poem, “The Spider and the Fly” (1829) by Mary Howitt. This poem is in the public domain.

Tagging: @primosflowergarden; @vi-er

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

—————————————————————————————

And now, dear little children, who may this story read

To idle, silly, flattering words, I pray you ne’er give heed

It’s been a long, long time since the incident with Leland. So long that you’ve almost forgotten about all of it.

Almost.

Your traitorous brain won’t let you forget it, not completely. Every now and then, you wake up with an ache between your legs and the memory of bright blue eyes peering at you through rectangular glasses. On those days, your hand hurts a little more than usual, though the cut has long since healed into a faint scar.

You pretend you hate those moments, but it’s a lie. One that you can live with, since Betty knows nothing about it. She asked you about your therapist appointments once after she returned, but you told her that it didn’t work out, and that was the last she’d mentioned it.

Life had moved on, summer turning to fall and fall to winter. Now it was the end of spring, summertime nearly back upon you. You’re walking to a job interview—your job at the bookstore simply wasn’t enough for the rising cost of rent, especially now that Betty had to reduce her own working hours. She still contributed to rent as best as she could considering her coursework, which was nonetheless frustrating for you. But you loved your friend, and you wanted to do your best to support her in this endeavor, so here you were.

You glance up at the stout building ahead of you, your eyes pausing for a second on the massive 320 that rests above the entrance, and suck in a deep breath. Okay, (Y/N). You got this. 

You stride into the building. Your interview with DF will be on the 12th floor, you see as you scan the list of companies residing in the building. You give a nod to the woman manning the front desk as you go to the elevators and press the button.

Nerves are starting to squirm in your belly again. Your hands are clammy, and you wipe them off on your black slacks. “I can do this,” you chant to yourself. “I’m good at this kinda thing.”

The ride to the twelfth floor is simultaneously too long and too short. When the doors open, you inhale another fortifying breath before stepping out. Let’s do this!

You walk past a couple of people chatting at what appears to be a lounge table and to the massive glass doors that lead to DF’s offices. There’s a woman manning what you assume is the reception desk. You go up to her. “Hi! I’m here for an interview with Sheryl?” you say.

“What’s the name?”

You give her your name. She glances at her computer, then picks up the phone on her left and dials a number. While you wait, you look at the massive flower picture that’s on the wall. There are two chairs in front of it, along with a round glass table. You nod your head at the scenery. Man, they really like glass a lot here, you think as you observe that the walls within the inner offices also seem to be made of glass.

A young woman comes out. She’s got short, dark hair and she’s wearing a green dress. “(Y/N)?” she calls, waving at you to get your attention. 

You nod.

“Follow me.”

You do so, passing by a coffee bar on your right and a bunch of young adults sitting at their computers, some of them talking on Bluetooth headsets, on your left. You’re too nervous to focus on what they’re saying, but suddenly you realize you don’t know where to go from there.

The woman leading you is smiling at you. “Sheryl mentioned that you’d be coming in today. Her office is right over there.” She points at a glass door past several computer desks. “You can just go in; she’s not busy at the moment.”

Alright. Let’s do this, you think again. “Thanks.” You give her an appreciative smile. She nods before turning and walking into what you think is a larger lounge area. You briefly wish you could order yourself a coffee, but if you get the job, there’ll be plenty of time for that later. “You got this, (Y/N),” you muster under your breath one last time before saunter to the door, tug it open, and poke your head in.

There’s an older woman sitting at a large desk. She’s got long blonde hair that falls in waves over her shoulders, and she glances up at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Hi. Uhm. My name’s (Y/F/N). We, uhm, had an interview for today?” You offer her a winning smile. “I know I’m a little early, but someone, uh,” you nod your head in the direction the young woman had gone, “told me I could just come right in.”

“Who?” The woman frowns, her eyebrows dipping low over her eyes.

“Uh, she had short dark hair?”

“Green dress?”

You nod. “Yep.”

“Ah. Leslie.” The woman squints at you. “What’d you say your name was?”

“(Y/F/N) (Y/L/N),” you repeat.

“Oh, yes!” The woman rises to her feet with a smile. You notice she’s wearing a black dress with a scaled red jacket that looks to be made of crocodile skin. You’re genuinely not sure if it’s real or faux, but you don’t have too much time to wonder before she offers you a hand. You rush forward to take it. Her nails are a bright red, matching her jacket. “I’m Sheryl.”

You blink at her. “Oh, you’re Sheryl? The person I talked to over email?”

She smiles at you. “That’s me.”

You smile back. She seems friendly enough. “I wasn’t expecting DF to reach out directly to me like that.”

“What can I say?” Sheryl gives an exaggerated shrug. “We’re pretty hands-on here.”

You laugh at that. “Yeah, and when I read the job description and pay, I, uhm, I couldn’t say no.”

Sheryl chuckles. “It’s a loooot of money, isn’t it?” she whispers conspiratorially, and you snort as you nod back at her. She releases your hand and motions for you to take a seat. You do, and she leans against her desk. “Well, I don’t know what exactly you were told, but honestly, there’s no need for an interview. This is just a formality to introduce myself to you.”

“Really?” you ask, confused. “I was expecting to—,”

“To tell me about yourself and why you’re qualified?” Sheryl finishes.

You nod.

She grins. Even her lipstick matches her jacket. “Yeah, there’s no need for that. You came highly recommended for the position.”

There’s something odd about the way she’s said that, and it snags at the back of your brain, but you ignore it. “Recommended by who?”

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” she replies with a flippant wave of her hand, and there it is again, something odd about the way she’s saying that.

“Ooooo…kaaay,” you say instead. You clasp your hands in front of you. “So…I guess the question is what do you need from me, exactly?”

Sheryl gives you another smile, and it reminds you of something, but you can’t articulate what. “All we need is for you to fill out the paperwork,” she explains. 

“And you’re sure there’s no need to talk to me? What about a background check? What if I’m a serial killer or something?”

She chuckles again. “Believe me, that wouldn’t be an issue here,” she says, and good God, why does that feel so…off? “If anything, that’d only be more impressive on your resume.”

You laugh awkwardly, unsure of what else to do. She’s joking, right? Gotta be.

She is silent for a moment, her eyes tracing over you. “You do understand what this job is, right?”

You give her a hesitant nod, but she seems to come to a conclusion that you have no clue what you’ve signed up for, so you take it upon yourself to demonstrate that you do: “I would research risks and possible exposure for DF.”

Sheryl smirks. “So basically, you’re making sure DF doesn’t accidentally fuck itself?”

Her language jars you, but you crack a smile at it. “That’s how I understood it, yeah.”

“Well, you understood it correctly. Except you’ll basically be doing the opposite, and for them.” She waves her hand again, this time towards the window that looks down onto the city.

You blink. “Them?” you ask, confused.

“Competitors,” Sheryl explains. “And…others who may not want to work with us.” She moves her hand to gesture at herself. “And then you’ll report that information to me.”

You bite your lip, suddenly wary. This sounds different from what you’d expected, and it’s a little unsettling. “And what’ll be done with that information?”

She gives you a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “We’ll use that to convince them that they do want to work with us,” is all the explanation she gives you.

You’re not an idiot. You feel your eyes narrow as you say, “You mean blackmail?” You purse your lips at her.

Sheryl shrugs. “Is that a problem?”

You open your mouth to say yes, hell yes, that’s a major fucking problem, but then you remember just how much they want to pay you to do this. “No,” you mutter. “It’s not a problem, I guess.” Betty better appreciate this.

Sheryl chuckles again. “You’ll get used to it,” she says, and she sounds like she’s trying to be reassuring, but you feel like she only half-means it. 

The two of you have a moment of silence before she claps her hands together. The abrupt sound makes you jump in your seat. “So! Paperwork, and then you can start tomorrow. How does that sound?” She flashes you a smile that you return, though it feels fake, stretched awkwardly across your face.

“Sure,” you say as she walks around her desk and reaches for something. You hear a drawer open and close. “I-I mean, good. That’s, uh, tomorrow? That’s fast but…” you give her an exaggerated thumbs-up. “But alrighty then.”

Sheryl gives you an odd look, and you wonder if she’s regretting the decision to hire you already, but she sets down a thick packet of papers on the desk where you can reach them. “I’ve gotta go do something really fast, but here.” She hands you a red pen, which you accept. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, she exits, the glass door closing behind her with a soft ‘thud’.

You look at the pen she’s given you and have the strangest thought that you’re signing your soul away. But that’s ridiculous. There’s no such thing as demon contracts, no matter who likes to pretend it’s real. 

You haven’t spoken to Kristen for almost a year, but some of what she’d told you about people believing in demons and stuff must have lingered in the back of your mind for you to be thinking like this.

You glance around the office, studying it, but there’s not much to look at. You heave a sigh. “Alright. Let’s do this, I guess,” you mutter under your breath.

There’s so. Much. Reading.

Your eyes are glazing over, but you’re trying to read every word because dammit, you wanna know what exactly you’re getting into here. It had seemed like an offer that was too good to be true, and you’re starting to think it might actually be so, even if you’re planning on accepting it nonetheless. 

It doesn’t make you feel any better that Sheryl’s office has glass walls looking out to the other workers. You know they’re not watching you, but you feel like they are, like their eyes are staring at you, judging you for signing yourself away. Can they see your secrets? Do they know that you used to blackmail people like this for fun?

You sign your name for the sixth time.

Well, at least you know you’re gonna be really, really good at this job. You certainly have a lot of experience. It’ll be nice to get paid to do this rather than doing it on your own dime, even if it’s a little less personal.

You finish filling out the paperwork and set it back on Sheryl’s desk. It thumps onto the smooth wood, and you wonder just how many times you signed or initialed. Feels like sixty, even if it was probably only ten.

You lean back into the chair. There’s nothing more you can do now except wait for Sheryl to get back. You look at the office once more, but honestly? It’s minimalist and boring. It doesn’t seem like Sheryl’s bothered to decorate it in any way. Sure, there’s pictures on the walls, but they’re black and white landscapes. The most colorful thing in the room was Sheryl.

As you sit, you begin to drum your fingers against the sides of the chair. The stack of papers feels like it’s looking at you, judging you for being so willing to help sabotage other people. You scoff to yourself. Since when have you cared so much about this kinda thing? Even knowing what you did to Samantha hadn’t given you this much anxiety. You’re probably just overthinking it. 

Though to be fair, you probably weren’t gonna tell Betty the truth about what your job entitles. She’d definitely judge you for it, even if it meant she could pursue her degree without worrying about finding a new place to live.

With a sigh, you glance out the glass walls just in time to spot Sheryl returning. She opens the door and gives you another smile, the sole pop of color in this room. “You wanna see where you’ll be working from?”

You nod and make a mental note to bring some things to accessorize your own desk tomorrow. Maybe you could bring your Samara funko pop with its cute little well. It would only be appropriate, right?

She motions for you to follow her, so you do. She takes you to a desk with a fancy computer and fairly comfortable-looking rolling chair. There aren’t cubical walls per se, but each desk has raised edges to give the illusion of privacy. “Right here is where you’ll be, (Y/N).” She motions for you to take a seat, so you do. The chair is as comfortable as it looks, which is a nice little bonus to everything. You relax your arms onto the armrests and look up at Sheryl. “I’d have someone show you how it all works,” she indicates the computer, “but you’re not in the system yet. We’ll have you in there by the time you show up tomorrow.”

You nod in acknowledgement, but you see something moving in the reflection of one of the offices across from you. You don’t know why it’s caught your eye, but it has. It’s a silhouette of someone talking to someone. You squint at it—not that it’ll help, since it’s a reflection and it’s a bit blurred, but you squint anyways. Sheryl’s still talking, something about security or ID badges or something like that, so she hasn’t noticed that you’re tuning her out as you stare at the reflection.

Silhouettes don’t typically look familiar even when they’re not impeded by glass, but this one does. The person turns away from the other person to walk in what seems to be your direction. You still can’t make out the face, but you could swear you know it. 

There’s a knot tying in the pit of your stomach right now. The faint scar on your hand twinges. “Hey, Sheryl,” you blurt, cutting her off mid-sentence. 

Sheryl looks annoyed at being interrupted, but she looks at you. “Yeah?”

“You said I came highly recommended. Who recommended me?”

Sheryl’s eyes flash some unidentifiable emotion. “I’m not supposed to tell you that.”

Your eyes have not moved from that silhouette. You know it. You’ve seen it before, even if the last time was almost a whole year ago. “I know, but, like, I signed the paperwork. Surely you can tell me. Was it my old boss?”

She purses her lips together, forming a thin red line. “It wasn’t him,” she admits, and there’s that nagging feeling, that itch in your brain again.

“Then who?” you ask in a firm voice that teeters on the line between polite and demanding. You don’t wait for Sheryl’s response before you whip your head around. You need to see—need to confirm that this is who you think it is. Because what are the odds—what are the fucking odds that the man behind you talking to the woman who sent you into Sheryl’s office is—

Right at that moment, he turns to look in your direction, and the grin staring back at you is none other than Leland Townsend. Your heart plunges into your stomach. He looks exactly the same as he had the last time you’d seen him.

“Oh, fuck,” you whisper.

Sheryl hears you and turns to see what the hell you’re staring at. “Hmm?” She sees Leland and huffs. “Sounds about right. You’ve met?”

You give her a dazed nod as Leland starts towards you, that ever-widening grin still plastered to his face. “Yeah.”

He’s behind you in what feels like an instant, grinning the whole damn time. “Sheryl!” he exclaims cheerfully. “You ready for our meeting?”

Sheryl makes a puzzled sound of confirmation but says nothing, and that’s when Leland turns his attention to you.

“Oh, and look who it is! (Y/N)!” he exclaims, practically dripping with feigned innocence. “Wow! I didn’t expect to see you here, of all places! Do you work here, too?”

Sheryl is looking back and forth between you two, no doubt clocking the casualness with which he’s treating you. “So you two already know each other?” she says to him.

His grin morphs into a smirk. “Ohhhh, yes. We’re quite well acquainted. Aren’t we, (Y/N)?” He tilts his head at you, but your words are gone, locked away somewhere deep inside of your throat. What the fuck would you even say, anyways?

You give a dull nod, and Leland’s smirk now looks more like a sneer, especially from this angle.

Something clicks in your brain. “It’s you, isn’t it?” you say, and Leland raises his eyebrows at you. “You’re the one who recommended me for this.”

He winks at you. “Guilty as charged. But we needed the best person for the job, and you’re it. She filled out the paperwork, right?” he asks Sheryl, though he’s not looking away from you. Sheryl makes a mm-hmm sound. “Good.” He stoops a little, bringing his face closer to yours, a dangerous glint in his eyes. Gotcha, he’s saying. 

The glint is triumphant, hungry, even. You lick your lips again, your heart thudding in your ears. You’re tempted to stand up and walk away—bolt like the hounds of Hades himself are chomping at your heels—but then how the hell would you explain this to Betty? Rent is coming, and unless you take this job, you’re both screwed. Sheryl’s email had found you at just the right moment to save both of your asses. You’d thought it was convenience, mere coincidence. But now?

Coincidence? Ha! You think the fuck not. This entire fucking thing was planned by him.

And now you’re stuck here, and Leland fucking knows it.

He straightens. “Well! I wouldn’t want to intrude on the tour,” he declares, finally looking away from you. “But it’ll be nice to catch up later, won’t it?”

You say nothing. You try to dig deep, try to summon the rage you used the last time you spoke to Leland, but it’s not there. What happened to it? Where’s all the determination? The ballsyness of not putting up with his shit?

It’s gone. There’s nothing there but despair. He’s won. He’s caught you at last.

He seems to take your silence as agreement, because he flashes you another winning smile. “I’ll be waiting for you in your office,” he tells Sheryl, who nods, though her eyes are rapidly flicking from you to Leland and back, over and over again. “Take your time. But not too much time. And I’ll see you tomorrow, (Y/N),” he adds.

Somehow you manage to summon enough emotion to glower at him as he saunters away, humming You’ll Be Back from Hamilton, of all fucking things. Sheryl tries to say something, but you can’t hear her. You can’t hear anything now. There’s a low buzzing sound in your ears that’s drowning her out, drowning out everything, really, everything except his footsteps as he walks away.

When Leland goes into her office and the door shuts behind him, his hold on you is suspended, if temporarily, and you can finally tear your eyes away from him. Sheryl’s giving you a worried look. “Are you okay?” she’s asking, probably for the third or fourth time.

You stare at her, mouth slightly agape, then you rise to your feet fast enough to send your chair rolling backwards. “I have to go,” you say numbly.

She blinks at you. “Okay. Well, uh. We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

You swallow. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

With that, you leave your desk. You can feel Sheryl’s eyes on you as you walk out, but you don’t turn around. If you turn, you’ll end up walking straight to him, and you refuse to give him that satisfaction. So you put one foot in front of the other until you’re back at the elevator, and then until you’re back outside.

You’ll Be Back is stuck in your head the whole fucking time.

The sky is a bright blue, the sun shining down with nonconsensual warmth. You hate it. You want it to be grey and cloudy. You want it to mirror the turmoil that’s roiling in your soul right now.

“Fuck!” you hiss as you bring your hand to your face. It’s shaking. “Fuck fuck fuck!!!”

You’re breathing heavily as you walk, trying and failing to blink away hot tears. Where you’re going, you have no clue, but you’re getting the hell outta there for now. You walk until you can’t see the ground anymore through the thick haze of tears, and then you stagger to a small bench. Apparently there’s a park within walking distance of DF’s offices. “Fuuuuuuck.”

He caught me, you think. He fucking caught me. And now I have a whole fucking year of dealing with him all fucking over again.

You look up at the sky and seriously consider staring at the sun until your eyes burn out. But then you won’t be able to see anything else, and that seems a little extreme just to eradicate Leland Townsend from your life.

It takes a long, long time, but eventually, your breathing returns to normal. “Okay. It’s fine. It’s just a year. I can deal with him for a year.”

It’s a lie, but maybe if you repeat it enough times, you’ll believe it. 

You close your eyes. “It’s only for a year. Only for a year. I can deal with him for only a year.”

Holy fuck, why the hell does he still look so handsome?

“Only. A. Year.”

And then you can run far, far away from him, from DF. You can save up and find a job elsewhere, away from that leer, away from those gorgeous blue eyes, away from that love of violence—that fierce desire to make him bleed. Now that you’re away from DF, your emotions are flooding back, filling you with fury at being conned into working there. Fury at the audacity of him recommending you for a job like this.

Is it actually fury if you still want to jump his bones and finish what you started almost a year ago?

Your cheeks heat as you remember that night, how you’d thrusted your tongue down his throat, how he’d grabbed your ass while you tried to pull off his suit. How in that moment, all you could think of was getting him inside of you, how maybe, just maybe, that would get rid of these dark, dirty thoughts in your head.

You feel a familiar aching between your thighs and groan in frustration.

“Holy fucking shit, I’m screwed.”

Unto an evil counselor, close heart and ear and eye

And take a lesson from this tale of the Spider and the Fly

———————————————————————————

Aaaand that’s the end, folks! I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I did writing (I was literally fixing things in this chapter eight hours ago, so talk about last-minute!).

[roosmybeloved]

Stuck!

Lestappen/Carlando

(1207 words)

Max and Lando are stuck in an elevator.

Luckily, the firemen aren't bad looking.

----------------------------------

"Shit.” Max muttered, fingers still jamming incessantly on the buttons in the elevator. Lando sighed heavily from his place on the floor.

“It’s not gonna work, mate.” He said. Max continued.

Lando wasn’t exactly sure how long they’d been stuck, but he knew it definitely was not long enough for Max to be panicking this much.

“Max. Seriously. Sit down.” He said, moving forward to kick his friend, who shot him a glare. After a few more aggressive button mashes, Max’s shoulders sagged in resignation.

He slumped down beside Lando.

“Are you sure there’s no emergency call button?” Max asked, glancing up, eyes searching the walls of the small elevator. Lando shrugged.

“Can’t see one. Let me check for a signal again.” He muttered, pulling out his phone and unlocking it. Max peered over his shoulder.

“A sunset as your homescreen? You need to get laid, mate.” He said, grinning. Lando narrowed his eyes as he looked over to Max.

“What’s yours, then?” He asked. Max coughed. He scratched his neck.

“Jimmy and Sassy.” He said. Lando barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes as Max blushed red.

“You have your cats as your homescreen and you’re telling me to get laid?”

“It’s perfectly respectable!” Max argued, crossing his arms.

“So is a sunset!” Lando countered as Max peered over his shoulder again, “In fact, I-”

“Signal!” Max shouted. Lando winced.

“We’re in a 3ft box, mate. No need to shout.” He said. Max scowled, reaching for the phone. Lando sighed as he passed over.

He cursed his phone anxiety.

Max punched a suspiciously short number into his phone, before holding it to his ear as it rang.

“999, what service do you require? Fire, ambulance or police? ” A voice called. Lando punched Max, eyes wide. He should’ve asked who Max was going to call.

“Uh, I guess fire? We’re stuck in an elevator.” He said as Lando stared at him in bewilderment.

There was a moment of quiet, and Max bit back a laugh as Lando shook his head.

“Where are you, please?”

“Just the, uh, office building off Bernard Street. There’s only one elevator, so.” He said.

More quiet. A faint typing sound.

“How long have you been there? Can you wait?”

Max sighed, dramatically.

“It’s been quite a while. I’m starting to get thirsty. Soon would be good.” He said. Lando gave him a pointed look. Max ignored him.

“Of course, I’ll send help now. Should be half an hour.”

“Thank you.” Max said, before hanging up. Lando lay down on the floor, laughing.

“You’re such a liar.” He said, arm over his forehead. Max joined him lying on the floor, slightly curled up with the size of the room.

“I am thirsty, though.” Max said, tapping a beat on the floor with his hand. Lando hummed.

They fell quiet for a long while. It had been a long day, and it was late. They were both students with part-time jobs that were hectic, and their studies had become more difficult with exam season approaching.

Lando felt himself falling asleep, even against the cold and hard tiles of the elevator floor.

He jolted awake as Max spoke.

“Did you finish your essay?” He asked. Lando rubbed his eyes, sitting up.

“Nah.”

“Me neither.” Max replied, groaning as he sat up too, bones cracking.

“Doesn’t sound normal.” Lando muttered as Max laughed, until Lando shushed him.

The two eyed each other as distant voices grew louder outside the elevator doors. Max strained his neck, ear placed at the opening.

“Last job of the day.” He heard a man say, sounding as tired as Max felt. Lando stood up slowly, wiping the dirt from his trousers.

They could hear a racket, seemingly coming from slightly above. Max looked up. The doors slowly were being pushed apart, a crow bar wedged inbetween and growing the gap. He sucked in a breath as he looked up at the man.

A fireman, in uniform yet only in the t-shirt, his arms on display as he battled with the metal doors. And his face was something to behold.

The elevator was clearly stuck between floors, the fireman stood above him. Like a scene from Romeo and Juliet, Max’s brain supplied unhelpfully.

“Oh, hello! I am Charles.” He said, voice strained as he pushed with finality, the doors giving way. Max stared at him. Charles leaned on the crowbar, wiping his forehead.

“I’m Max.” He replied dumbly. Charles smiled sweetly.

Lando waved.

“Get us out, please Mr Fireman.” He said teasingly, and Charles laughed as he nodded.

“Of course. We brought water, hold on.” He said, beckoning someone over. In a moment, another fireman appeared. Lando dropped his arm to his side as he stared.

“Hello! Here.” The second man said, leaning down and holding out two bottles of water. Max looked at Lando, who stood rooted to the floor. Max took the water.

“Thanks. This is Lando.” He said.

“Carlos.” The second fireman said. He smiled, but Max caught his eyes trailing up and down Lando’s body. He looked back to Charles, who was staring. Charles looked away promptly.

The two firemen left their view.

“We should get stuck in elevators more often.” Lando muttered to Max, the other nodding quickly. They drank their water, realising how thirsty they both actually were.

Charles reappeared, holding a hand out to Max.

“No rope?” Max asked, grinning as Charles’ cheeks darkened.

“Afraid not.” He replied, dimples on show as he smiled. Max tried to ignore the way his muscles bulged as he grabbed his hand. What wasn’t easy to ignore was the ease that Charles lifted him up with.

They looked at each other for a long moment once Max was stood, Charles’ other hand resting carefully on his lower back.

“Are you free tonight?” Max blurted out, before stepping back and covering his mouth. Charles’ eyes widened. He regained some semblance of coolness.

“Yeah. Yeah. I am. Free.” He said, scratching his neck. Max nodded quickly.

He looked over as Carlos pulled Lando from the elevator. Carlos steadied him, hands on Lando’s waist, before quickly removing them.

“You can keep them there, if you want.” Lando said, fixing Carlos with an innocent look. Carlos raised an eyebrow, bitten lip betraying his confident exterior. He placed his hands back where they were with a grin.

Max looked back at Charles.

“Come to mine?” He asked. It was meant as a question, though it sounded more like a demand. Charles nodded quickly.

They exchanged numbers, touches lingering as they returned phones. Max grinned as Lando approached them.

“Ready to go?” Lando asked. Max nodded, glancing over to see Carlos already typing hastily on his phone. Lando’s phone chimed, and he rolled his eyes fondly.

“See you later, Max.” Charles promised, giving Max a wink before sauntering towards Carlos. Lando sighed happily.

“Successful day, I’d say.” He said, attempting to ignore the 0 words still sitting on his essay document.

“Bet you’re glad I called 999, now.” Max replied, a smug smile on his face as they descended the stairs.

“I mean, it was actually my idea to go in the elevator, so.”

Max glared at him. Lando’s laziness finally paid off, he supposed.

[pigtailedgirl]

So I spent all day writing Victoria's Secret AUs...it could have been worse edition.

I have an angst problem yo.

Victoria is a ghost

When you are lonely and feel guilty, the mind can offer all kinds of refuges.

Fraser hadn't left his apartment in three days, huddled in like the memory of before, he and Victoria. Except for that brief phone call the consulate had for him, that call that-- No matter, for the roses had appeared that afternoon, in sympathy and get well and provided the perfect reason to go back. The Forget Me Nots. Sick leave he had in abundance after all, so he returned to Victoria's embrace.

Until that night, well past midnight, Ray knocked on the door. Whether it was sleep deprivation or worry Ray too would leave, he made the mistake of inviting him in. “Do you wanna meet her?” and though he'd hestitated, Ray did cross the threshold, like an unseen hand had given him push.

And looked around a disheveled and empty apartment.

“Fraser?”

There was no woman in sight. To his eyes anyways. To Fraser, Victoria sat draped in his bed, an icy smile now gracing her features, as if more proof his guilt was earned eternally.

He leaned against the partition of his bedroom, looking between them both, and as he cracked like the thaw of ice in a pass, laughter bubbling to tears, sinking him into the cold as he sank to the floor despite Ray's efforts to try and catch him in grip, he knew.

“I'm sorry to inform you Constable, a Miss Victoria Metcalfe was killed in an auto crash two months after her release from prison. Her will requested you be informed in case of her death.”

Fraser and Victoria go to Texas

It shouldn't be so easy. Maybe it isn't. Maybe the sun of Austin won't be bright or will burn him out faster than here. But she doesn't care, and he, he can't say no. He'd asked for the transfer, entirely prepared to resign if they'd said no. Moffat had given him an odd look, like pity, but also considering his general problematic work, he was approved. He would use his sick time as leave in interim.

There was hardly anything to pack. His father's trunk, which Victoria assured would fit in a small rented U-Haul. All that was needed for them. Dief could stay in there as well. They'd stop during intervals to check on him. He seemed so displeased, Fraser half considered leaving him here, maybe with Willie?, but couldn't voice it anymore than he could say he'd prefer Dief in the car with them. Yet, Dief was loyal, so he watched and was going along silently, perhaps caged just like his master.

That left Ray. Something, and someone owed alot more than Fraser knew he could ever give.

It had ended as it should have if he'd truly been as cowardly or stupid as when he'd first come to Chicago. As it could've when he'd first left but hadn't really wanted to say goodbye.

A phone call from a payphone, outside the limits of town. Yes, your money is with Mr. Mustafi Ray. I'm sorry, you see, I have to go. I can't let her go. You friendship has meant so much to me. I know it doesn't seem it but...my regrets... I have to...I'll try to keep in touch. Of course, as a friend.

No forwarding address or number ever came.

Victoria and Dief killed by Jolly

The gunshot echoes in the night air. And the second.

He's already winded from chasing Ray, so he doesn't have much head start. The stairs and climb are daunting.

The door is wide open. Dief lays in his pool of blood near the cupboards, near the window leading to the fire escape, also thrown wide.

Victoria's crumpled by the bed, and the ransacked trunk, like she'd made a last ditch effort to retrieve his fire-arm within.

He doesn't bother to check Dief because it doesn't matter does it.

She's clearly dead.

Victoria's lawyer sucks and she goes back to prison

She'd been granted bail on the condition of being watched by two officers of the law. She'd languished in his little hell hole apartment for months untils trial. She'd followed the lawyers advice and dressed demurely and acted contrite and frightened for her life.

She saved her remaining rage for Benton in private. And though it still binds them, it wasn't enough. She's doesn't feel guilty like him.

She'd still refused to say where her portion of the money Jolly was stalking her for went. Root of all her evils, it damns her again.

The sentence is only five years. This time.

Fraser's eyes as he stares at her in shock as she's lead from the court in cuffs, after she'd turned from the verdict to pound his chest, or was it to go for his friend Ray's side arm and end this ... Well, 5 years isn't worth it, but at least he's getting the life sentence.

So damn him and his plea deals.

Fraser doesn't find the key at Ray's house in time

IA had taken ten minutes to get from the station to the Vecchio home. They didn't bother to think on the why of the anonymous call or record it so there will be no way to trace it as evidence later. Perhaps guilty conscious explains why he told on himself. No one will bother to remember it was a call from a woman.

Welsh, Huey and Louey were only two minutes behind. Ray Vecchio flagged by a rookie, who was radio-ed by Elaine, won't even make it to the scene, won't get to see or understand because he'll be redirected. He'll be once again staring at Fraser, blocked by glass, from the other side of the holding cells phones. Fraser won't pick up the receiver to answer him.

So Ray won't know the loss and what little it will be to what could've. Fraser's versus his own imprisonment or loss of bail and home. It's all Fraser feels he can do, but of course Ray doesn't understand him. Fraser doesn't want him to. But still Ray Vecchio sees the sad and forlorn and determined after confession, and refuses anything else.

That full confession makes easy conviction. What IA walking in saw.

A manic faced man amongst the ruins of the Vecchio's house. Rooms upheaved in mad search. A man who seemed caught frozen on the stairwell, phone left dangling over the bannister. Who greeted them with odd, flat words as if spoke to the air;

“I couldn't...I can't find the key.”

And the long poignant pause, his mask slipping on as Welsh stepped through the torn front door, as he finally registered them and added “The key, which I had previously planted. I would like to confess to the murder of Jolly Roberts for money from a former robbery, and attempted framing of my work colleague Ray Vecchio before I could flee with my portion of the cash. I believe cuffs are in order gentlemen.”

He paused again as he stepped through threshold and said to the three former friends standing agape "Can you tell Ray... I'm sorry about the mess."