#gotta bubble wrap this man

[klea221]

Papi’s back 😭❤️

[alexiroflife]

jjk men reactions to you saying they're annoying you first the first time...

gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

💫💫💫

satoru gojo: you're overstimulated. your reports from last week's missions are due tomorrow, and you had forgotten about them because you had to help Nanami with training a few of the first years over the past couple days. while you despise the thought of having to sit down and write those reports, you have no choice but to knock them all out tonight.

tonight, however, satoru happens to want to come over to keep you company. you comply, but something in the back of your head tells you that it's not the best idea: especially since satoru is infamous for posing as a distraction in any and all environments, even more so when you're within his vicinity.

you're sitting at your desk with your knee bouncing, head in your hand as you listen to satoru talk endlessly about the new mochi stand he found while he was out today. your pen stills on your paper, mind flipping between your boyfriend's voice and the work ahead of you. you're already agitated that you even have to be doing this so late at night, and satoru has either ignored or completely forgotten the last two warnings you gave him to let you finish your work peacefully.

you can feel your patience wearing paper thin, brows furrowed until they hurt and your teeth sinking into your gums. your last straw is when you hear him stop talking and shuffle across the room to you, lean figure bending over to peer over your shoulder boredly. "are you almost done yet?" he groans, head knocking against yours.

you snap. you move your head away with a frustrated sigh and look up at him with irritated eyes. satoru sits up suddenly, playfulness dropping from his face.

"satoru! for the last time, leave me alone! god, you're being so annoying," you shout, turning rigidly back around to stare at your paper harshly.

the blue eyed sorcerer beside you goes silent, eyes wide as he processes the fact that you've just yelled at him and said he was annoying you. he, your boyfriend, was bothering you.

do you hate him now? are you going to leave him forever? is there another man?

satoru's ever so dramatic with his dejection, his hands lowering slowly to his sides as he stares at you with a blank face, yet tortured eyes. he breathes in slowly, turning on his feet. "alright," he tries to accept casually, though you can hear the hurt in his voice. "i... guess i'll go home then."

you close your eyes and exhale. "satoru, you don't need to go home, i just need some quiet so i can focus."

"no, it's fine. i get it. i didn't mean to get in your way, i'm sorry," he shakes his head, dispirited. you hear the drop in his tone in comparison to how bubbly he had sounded just moments ago, and you immediately feel guilty.

you turn around in your chair, watching satoru linger in your doorway with a sad frown, head hanging low and hand on the rim of the door as he looks at you with big eyes. you scoff to yourself, opening up your arms and rotating your desk chair around to face him. “come here, you big baby.”

satoru trudges over to you pitifully, steps dragging before he gets on his knees before you and plops his head in your lap, arms wrapping around your waist. you roll your eyes and run your fingers through his hair and down his back. “so dramatic.”

“thought you were gonna abandon me,” he mumbles into your waist, voice muffled. you lifts his head to peer up at you through white locks with a small pout. “i didn’t know you found me so annoying.”

“satoru, i’m already annoyed because of this assignment, it was just that you constantly talking after i asked you not to made it worse,” you tell him softly, smoothing your thumb over his check.

his sighs and nods, eyes lowering in understand. “i’m sorry, baby,” he apologizes again, sincerely. “i just get so excited around you. and i want to spend time with you.”

“i want to spend time with you too, toru, that’s why you just gotta let me get this done and then i’m all yours. twenty more minutes, i promise.”

he kisses your thigh. “okay, of course.” he stands, leaning over to peck your lips, then once more. “i’ll be back, i’ll run to get you some snacks. that’ll keep me busy so i’m not distracting you for a bit, yeah?”

you hum. “thank you, baby.”

he squishes your cheeks up in his hands and kisses you again. “alright, good luck,” he grins. “and please don’t yell at me again, i’ll die.”

geto suguru: you love suguru with your entire spirit, but sometimes, he can be so judgmental.

he’s not aggressive with his comments, which aren’t even necessarily horrible within themselves, but it’s the frequency to which he does it and with no awareness of how the small things he says can make you feel.

it feels like there are times when he can’t comprehend the fact that there are certain things the two of you differently, different ways you go about conflicts, and even different interests or standpoints you withhold. while there aren’t many, suguru often finds a way to make the differences you do have seem endless when he’s saying something unintentionally condescending about the color of nail polish you choose to wear.

today, you’re on your period. you’re in pain, uncomfortable, and in a rather foul mood. you hole up into your room, curled up on your bed when suguru returns from the store, rapping gently on the frame of your door.

“hey, i’m back. got you some pain medicine,” he smiles and you grunt wordlessly. suguru chuckles, making his way over to you and setting the grocery bag onto the foot of your bed as he removes the contents. he leans over to rub your knee, craning his neck to catch sight of your face. “how we feeling?”

“like shit,” you hiss and he coos.

“poor baby.”

“sugu, i know i just asked you to get me crackers, but could you also run into the kitchen and grab the chocolate spread?”

suguru tilts his head in amusement. “you want chocolate spread with your crackers?”

“don’t question me, just do it please.”

he smiles. “yes ma’am,” he stands up straight to head for the door. “it’s in the fridge?”

“no the pantry.”

he stills, and though you’re not looking at him you can tell he hasn’t moved. “the pantry?”

you turn around and look up at him. “…that’s what i said.”

he purses his lips downward. “oh,” he says indifferently.

you know what’s coming when he makes that face, and you can feel your agitation rising. “what?”

“nothing, it’s just… I would’ve put it in the fridge.”

you glare at him for a long moment, tension laced silence rising in the air. “why is that?” you ask with an attitude.

suguru gives you a face when he picks up on your tone. “um… well since you already opened the container, you should put it in the fridge to keep ants from coming in.”

you press your lips together tightly. “oh really.”

“…yeah?”

you scoff, turning back over so your back faces your boyfriend. “you’re so annoying with that shit, sometimes,” you grumble under your breath.

“what did you just say?”

“i said i hate when you do that, it’s annoying,” you repeat loudly.

suguru’s completely perplexed, stunned that you would even say those words to him. he inches back into the room, brow raising. “what are you talking about, (y/n)?”

“nothing. go away.”

the dark haired man has never been immediately moves to the other side of your bed so he can look you in the eye. “don’t do that. look at me so i can talk to you.” you sigh loudly, flickering your hardened eyes up to the shaman. he sits down beside you and looks down at your face. “what’s wrong? what did i do?”

you shrug harshly, looking away again. “i don’t know, suguru, it just seems like you’re always trying to prove that your way is better than mine,” you say, vexed. “you judge the smallest things i do and it’s getting old.”

geto furrows his brows. “i don’t judge you.”

“you do, you just don’t realize.”

“then help me realize,” he says earnestly, hand landing on your arm gently. “please.”

you look into his hazel eyes and see that he is being genuine and you huff. “well, just now you had to ask me if the container was in the fridge or pantry so you could prove that you would’ve done something different,” you explain. “and other times, you’ll do the same thing in different circumstances and just judge my choices.”

suguru caresses your arm softly, moved by your revelation. “i didn’t realize i did that,” he tells you, his voice gentler.

“you do. sometimes it’s like nothing i do is right,” you frown, and suguru’s swimming in guilt.

“that’s not true, babe. not at all, of course i don’t think that about you.”

you soften slightly under his tone of honesty. “you don’t?”

“no, (y/n). and i never would. i guess sometimes i just talk without thinking. but for all the times i’ve made comments to make you feel like that, i’m sorry,” he apologizes earnestly. “the last thing i want to do is make you feel like i’m trying to be better than you.”

“…well you do…” you murmur, losing the grit that encouraged you to call him out in the first place.

“i see now,” his hand slides up to your waist. “i’ll try to catch myself more, okay? i won’t make you feel that way again as long as i can help it.”

“you’re making it hard for me to stay mad at you.”

he laughs softly. “that’s the goal, baby. i don’t like when you’re upset with me.”

you wave your hand around, relenting your frustration. “okay, fine, fine. i forgive you, now can you please go get that chocolate from the pantry?”

suguru stands, leaning over to kiss you cheek and brush your hair from your face. “will do.”

toji fushiguro: where to begin with this mf… toji’s forgetful. he has no concept of planning ahead or structure, leading him to constantly let things you tell him slip his mind. he’s just as unorganized with his thoughts as he is with his finances, and it drives you insane.

you’re sitting at the dining table scrolling through your phone, legs resting on toji’s lap as he sits in the chair next to you, rubbing your shins mindlessly while he goes through his messages.

you see an advertisement for a movie you’ve been telling toji that you want to see, which reminds you that a week ago you told him to order the tickets so that the seats wouldn’t fill up. the movie is in two days, and something tells you to check for a third time this past week to see if he has done what you asked.

you look at your boyfriend’s dull expression, screen light illuminating his face. “toji?” he hums distractedly. “did you get the tickets?”

“hm?” he still doesn’t look at you and you purse your lips, putting down your phone.

“the tickets.”

he looks up, brow quirking and lip curling. “what tickets?”

you can’t be serious.

“the tickets that I’ve been telling you to get for days? for the movie?”

he stares at you for a long moment, silence enveloping the room. you’re normally very patient when it comes to toji’s nonsense, but at this point, you’re getting sick of it. does he really not care to listen to anything you ask him?

he clicks his tongue, sniffing before looking back down at his phone and smirking in amusement. “shit, nah, i keep forgetting. i’ll get ‘em later.”

you glare at him in disbelief. “are you kidding me toji?”

he picks up on your irritated tone and glances back up questioningly. “it’s not a big deal, i said I’ll get ‘em later.”

“you’ve been saying that for days.”

“and i’ll get it done, baby, relax.”

“don’t tell me to relax. you never listen to anything i say and you’re always waiting until the last minute to do everything,” you kick your legs off of his lap and his brows jump in surprise. “you get on my nerves, i swear.”

“well damn,” he snorts. “where is this coming from?”

“from you constantly not listening to anything i ask you to do,” you sneer.

“i listen to you, sweetheart.”

“clearly not, or else you would have bought the tickets already.” you stand abruptly. “whatever, I’m going to take a walk.” you go to move around him, but he grabs your wrist and keeps you still.

“uh uh, hold it, mouthy,” he pulls you back to him so that you’re standing over him with an angry expression. “i really got you worked up over this one, huh?”

“use your brain and figure it out yourself.”

he whistles, shaking his head and yanking you down into his lap. “so much sass.” you stumble a bit before stabilizing, folding your arms and looking the other way. “you won’t even look at me now?”

“fuck off.”

“you got some mouth there, girl, I didn’t know you had it in ya,” he wraps his large arms tightly around your waist.

“toji, you’re making me more irritated.”

“alright, alright, i hear ya,” he grumbles. “i’ve just been busy with these jobs, you know they take up all my focus.”

“you could stand to focus a little more on your girlfriend from time to time,” you mumble.

“i know, i’m sorry, doll. that’s my job,” he agrees, pecking the back of your neck. “hand me my phone, i can buy those tickets right now while you watch me.”

you murmur incoherently, grabbing his phone and slapping it into his open hand by your waist. “if all the good seats are gone, you’re dead.”

he smirks against your cheek. “you’re kinda hot when you’re pissed off.”

ryomen sukuna: sukuna is your irritation personified. it’s hard not to be agitated with him or down right pissed when he has no regard for most, if not all, human concepts of decency.

and he’s so crude, everything he says or does has you whipping your head around in public to ensure that the police aren’t nearby to hear.

you’re actually out grabbing food with him when you reach your limit. you’re standing in line, sukuna’s arms folded and face firm as you scan the menu. just then, a man bumps into him from his left, trying to squeeze past to get to the other side of the cafe.

sukuna’s eyes sharpen as he slowly turns to look down at the pesk who dared to touch him, eyes slim with fury as the pathetic man apologizes profusely upon seeing sukuna’s frightening gaze.

“touch me again, and it’s your life,” sukuna growls, watching the man scamper away quickly in fear. you watch the whole ordeal sternly, then look up at your boyfriend in awe.

“sukuna, what the fuck?” you hiss, and he looks down at you out of the corner of his eye.

“the bastard touched me,” he says, as though that is explanation enough to threaten a random stranger.

“you can’t just go around and threaten to kill people over every minor inconvenience!” you scoff. “especially when we’re out of the house?!”

“are you attempting to tell me what to do?”

“oh my god, i’m not doing this with you right now,” you clench your jaw. “telling you to abide by basic morals isn’t me trying to ‘tell you what to do.’”

“and you should be fully aware by now that i do not care in the slightest what rules you humans live by,” he says lowly, your conversation barely reaching above a murmur.

“oh wow, the great lord sukuna doesn’t care? what else is new,” you quip sarcastically, turning away, furiously.

sukuna’s brows pinch together. “wanna repeat that, brat?”

“no, dick,” you bite. “fucking irritating ass.”

sukuna steps into you, glowering over your small frame while you avoid his eyes. “who the hell are you talking to?”

“who else?”

the king of curses scrunches the corner of his nose. he’s never heard you speak to him with such boldness in your tone. he wants to be angrier that you’re stepping out of line, but he can’t help but feel somewhat thrilled by it.

he leans down to speak lowly into your ear as you stare ahead stiffly, irritation consuming your mind. “keep this up, and you’re gonna be in trouble when we get home.”

“trouble my ass. you won’t do shit.”

and now you’ve done it.

sukuna’s suddenly smirking darkly, moving to grip the back of your neck tightly. the two of you are at the end of the line, therefore no one is behind you to see him reach and grab you. you stiffen, eyes sliding up to his. his crimson red irises shining with nothing but bad intentions.

“you’re talking a lot of shit today, woman. hope you still think you can run your mouth when it’s stuffed full.”

he’s insufferable, you think to yourself as your stomach tingles with anticipation.

[nilefreemans]

I Saw My Uncle Kissing Santa Claus

"You really gotta tell him man," Tommy hears Howie's voice coming into the kitchen from the hall. He's about to come in, but the answering voice makes Tommy stop.

"I know," Evan says, sounding odd. "I can't keep this a secret for much longer, it will just make things awkward for Tommy. He needs to be prepared for whats to come."

Tommy's brows furrow at that, and his palms feel sweaty all the sudden-

Things were going good between them, slow sure, but better then it was before. Stronger. This is their first Christmas together since their last one was spent apart and Tommy-

Is overthinking.

Tommy steps into the kitchen then and is met with two identical looks of surprise.

He's been caught.

"No time like the present, hey Buck," Howie grins as he claps Buck on the back before walking past Tommy. Howie then winks at Tommy, and any thoughts he had to worry melt away.

"You know you should really be the one to tell him-" Evan starts but Howie interupts him.

"You owe me big time, good luck, thank you!" Howie sing songs before he's stepping out of the kitchen, leaving a pouting Evan behind.

Tommy decides he just has to kiss that pout and Evan smiles against his lips before grabbing at Tommy's waist and bringing him in for a deeper kiss.

"You're-" A kiss. "Stalling."

"Okay," Evan admits. "I have something to tell you, and ah - I guess, I guess ask of you to." He starts, rambling. "And it-it's kinda cute?"

"Cute?" Tommy asks, raises a brow. "What-"

"Jee thinks you're Santa." Evan blurts out and Tommy's eyes widen.

Out of all the things he expected, that wasn't one of them.

"She. Thinks. I'm. Santa."

"Yup." Evan pops the 'p' at the end.

"Um, why?" Tommy asks, and he's leaning against the counter now, confused at the turn of events.

"She has a list," Evan says and he pulls it out of his pocket to present it to Tommy. The piece of paper has Jee-Yun all over it, from the stickers of every genre to the glittery writing. It makes Tommy smile when he looks at it.

"Why Tommy is Santa-" Evan starts and he clears his throat, being a little dramatic.

"One. He flies." Evan starts and Tommy nods his head.

"I do fly-"

"And so does Santa," Evan pokes at Tommy's chest. "Can I continue?" Tommy makes a motion to do so, and Evan lifts the list off again to read it off.

"Two. Tommy took us to see reindeer, and Santa has reindeer." That was true, Tommy knew a guy who worked for the zoo and was on a team that was rehibiliating some reindeer. Tommy had taken Jee and Evan there a few weeks ago.

"Three. He has a long red coat." That one was a stretch, but Tommy wouldn't argue against it. He had a long wool coat for when he camps out in the mountains, and it was indeed red, though it was a more muted shade then he thought Santa would wear. Jee had seen it last week when she had been over for the night with her brother to give Maddie and Howie a night off.

"Four - and this is where it gets cute," Evan says, completely fond of both his niece and his boyfriend. "He has a big smile and he laughs and makes people happy."

"That's sweet," Tommy says, blushing. He ducks his head and Evan steps closer into his bubble, wrapping his arms around Tommy.

"There's more, like how you always remember what kind of gifts people want and ah-" Evan pauses briefly something that happens sometimes whenever their breakup came into the conversation. "You were gone last Christmas, and I think she thought you were busy."

"Being Santa." Tommy huffs, shakes his head. "Better than what actually happened."

They've talked about it, how Tommy threw himself into work to cope with everything. It wasn't healthy, but he's working on it.

Evan nods his head and the hand on Tommy's waist squeezes.

"She still believes," Evan says. "And with the baby this year, I think she feels a little left out. So when they got into Christmas folklore at school, I think she latched onto the idea that you were Santa. It's why she's been so shy today."

"Okay," Tommy nods his head. He gets it. Believing in something when things were a little difficult could get you through hard times. His old man had told him the truth about Santa when he had been young, and Tommy didn't have that little bit of Christmas magic growing up.

"Do you want me to tell her I'm not?" Tommy asks, undure what they should do here. Evan shakes his head then and Tommy relaxes.

"Chimney and Maddie want to talk to her about it, they just didn't want you to think she was ignoring you-" Evan grins. "I think she's trying to be on the good list. I've never seen her room so clean."

Tommy huffs out a laugh at that. He had thought it was a little strange that Jee hadn't come running to them for a hug when they came, but he figured that she was just being quiet for her brother's sake.

"And what list are you on?" Tommy asks Evan, voice low as his eyes dart over Evan. The other man snorts out a laugh then before he pulls Tommy in for a kiss.

"I think I've been on the good list, Santa-" Evan whispers in Tommy's ear.

Tommy tries.

He really does, but he lasts about two seconds before he bursts into laughter. Evan joins him then, and it feels good, laughing with his boyfriend.

"Uncle Buck?" Tommy hears, and he sees the very person they were talking about coming into the kitchen. "Can we play cowboys and princesses and aliens?" She asks and Evan straightens away from Tommy and he gestures as if he's wearing a cowboy hat, tipping it to Jee and the girl giggles in return.

"I reckon the Princess Cowboys have a lot to do before Christmas Evan tomorrow." Evan says in an exxagerated southern accent.

Tommy is completely charmed by him.

"Are you too busy to play Uncle Tommy?" Jee asks and Tommy feels like his heart skips a beat.

That was the first time Jee has ever called him 'Uncle.'

"Yeah, that sounds fun. Can I be a Princess?" Tommy asks and follows Jee and Evan back into the living area.

He prefers Unlce to Santa, anyday.

[ultravioletrayz]

WICKED WAYS (18+)

Pairing: soldier boy (ben) x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, degradation, a bit angsty i suppose, unprotected p in v, reverse cowgirl, regular riding, dom!ben, sub!reader, rough to soft(ish) sex, established relationship, slapping, some marking ig, cockwarming if you squint, soldier boy is a warning himself soooo

Summary: Ben realises that he needs to be gentler with you if he wants to keep you happy

A/N: first proper fanfic in a while, hope it was worth the wait!!

Word Count: 1.2k

When Ben had stalked over to you in the kitchen, wrapping his burly arms around your middle and absorbing the heat radiating off of your body, you had been pleasantly surprised. Soldier Boy is a harsh man. As vicious and vulgar as they come. With the way he was brought up, and the horrors he's endured, no one could blame him.

So, when this battle-scarred brute had gravitated towards you like a poor little pup, you couldn't help the warmth that bubbled in your chest. This was so unlike him.

"You okay?" You whisper, carefully chopping up the vegetables you're prepping for dinner. It's obvious the confusing state of your modern world is frustrating and exhausting for Ben to handle, so you're always conscious of the restricted distress brewing beneath his tough façade and rugged looks.

There's a constant need for him to be a vision of peak masculinity. No sharing feelings, no looking to his girl for comfort, no sitting around and wallowing in his pain. Even if he was upset, he'd try his damn best not to let your observant ass catch on.

"Why the fuck wouldn't I be? Thought you wanted me to start actin' all sappy n' shit." Ben grumbles, his trimmed beard scratching at your nape as he nips at your supple skin, diverting your empathetic qualms with a sloppy trail of fiery, throbbing little bites.

"Just tryna get in your fuckin' pants, woman." He adds, gentle hands becoming rougher and more demanding by the second as he grabs at your sleep shirt and tries to tug it up your hips.

You'd be lying if you denied the twinge of disappointment that settled in your gut. Ben has his rare moments of affection, so rare that you've come to wishfully crave them. This wasn't one of those mushy, blissful moments.

It was a different kind of blissful.

. • ☆ . °.•°:. *₊° .☆.

"Gotta go faster if you wanna get me off, pretty thing." Ben huffs condescendingly, grabbing a handful of your ass and slamming your hips all the way down on his lap, making your breath catch in your throat as a strangled whine trickles from your lips.

But it feels like all of your little, more or less distraught yelps are just echoing into the void, your eyes trying to focus on anything in the bedroom to keep yourself grounded. You make a feeble attempt at concentrating on making your ass grind down on the defined, pulsing vein decorating Ben's v-line, hands planted on his knees as you show off your arched back for his eager eyes, desperate to please him.

The minutes feel like they've turned to hours, which feel like they've turned to days, weeks, months. Your thighs are burning, your vision is fogged up as tears and sweat mingle on your cheeks. Your brows are knitted together in an agonising mix of hurt and pleasure. Your incessant, rhythmic bouncing stutters and slows as the loud, gooey squelching of your puffy cunt against the base of Ben's thick cock dwindles.

You can hear him tut behind you, rough palms quickly digging into the flesh of your hips as he holds you down on him, muscular legs flexing as he thrusts up into you.

"If I keep havin' to do all the work my damn self, might as well get a better bitch." Ben spits, delivering a swift slap to your plump cheek just to watch the flesh ripple for his own self-indulgent entertainment.

You try to grit your teeth and bear it, refusing to give Ben the satisfaction of seeing you break. You lean forward, arching your back and letting his cock prod deeper into your syrupy depths, whining as you remain perched and pretty atop him.

But it's all too much. Ben's grip on your aching flesh, the constant ramming of his swollen tip right against your cervix, the awful shit he's saying. It gets to you.

White-hot tears stream down your face as you stiffen, shoulders shuddering as you weep to yourself quietly. You think as long as Ben can't see your face, you can get this over with— have him cum inside, toss you off of him, and then you can have a well deserved nap.

Ben's not deaf, though. As soon as he hears those real, unsexy sniffles coming from his girl, his scrunched up, sweaty face drops.

"Fuck's sake." Ben scoffs, relaxing his grip and letting his hips lay flat on the bed. In a quick manoeuvre, he lifts you off of his cock, his past round of cum and your slick oozing down to his heavy balls as he flips you around and sits you on his cock again. You both groan as you sink back down to the hilt of him, spent walls fluttering and weeping around his girth as your hands find purchase on Ben's stomach.

His thumb rubs little apologetic circles against your stomach, while his other hand comes up to begrudgingly wipe your tears away.

"C'mon. Y'know I didn't mean that, alright? You're the only woman for me. So sexy, so fuckin' perfect. My girl." Ben sighs, green eyes staring up at your fucked-out, pouty face. Typically, a sight like this would get him going in a second, but seeing you so hurt and so vulnerable... it makes him feel queasy. No, guilty.

You can't help but lean into Ben's touch and nod in understanding, your body betraying your emotions once again. He may be rough around the edges, but you know he cares for you in his own way. A way he's shit at showing, but it's still embedded in his fortified heart.

"Let me make it up to you, baby. Show you some of that real lovin' you're busting my balls for, huh?" Ben chuckles, bucking his hips beneath you and making your body jolt, which earns him a quick smack on his bicep. His jaw clenches in response, his teeth grinding as he fights against the emotions swirling within him. He's never been good with expressing his feelings, but he knows he can't lose you over something like this. Not when you've shown him a side of himself he never knew existed.

"You're such an asshole." You laugh, leaning down to press a soft kiss on Ben's lips. An unusually gentle smile forms on his face as he looks up at you, and he immediately pulls you back down to kiss you deeper, passion fusing your tongues in an intimate, searing embrace as you rock your hips slowly.

Gripping your hips firmly, Ben starts to move again, this time slower and with more control. His thrusts are still hard and demanding, but they're also filled with a newfound appreciation for the woman above him. Your clit drags against Ben's pelvis, making you whine into the kiss as you cup his chiseled cheeks in your hands, while the head of his cock pecks that gummy spot in your core that has goosebumps pricking along your velvety skin.

Ben likes a rough fuck, he really does. But something about this moment makes him think about all the tenderness you two will share within the many years he plans on spending by your side.

The poor old sap can't wait.

the original thirst here

[howlettsdoll]

‘feverish nights’

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ ‘x-men’ logan howlett x gn! reader fluff but sexual themes implied

specifically put ‘x-men’ in here because it’s when his two little kitty tufts are prominent:3 (ex: the gif). i love them sooo much waah i had to write smth about them y’all omfg. i thought of logan in x2 here but you can take anyone you want really, just keep in mind those are mentioned.

summary ;

logan’s ruts are coming early, making him feel feverish and unable to sleep. you try to help him ease back down.

it’s the dead of night in the heart of winter. logan has you curled up to his body, a thick, meaty arm wrapped around your lower stomach through the t-shirt you’re wearing. however, it’s hard to stay peacefully asleep when all the man can do is toss and turn. you’re just trying to sleep, for christ’s sake, and he can’t stop being restless. eventually, you just give up and shift away from him, curling up to the pillows with a little grunt. he reached out for you, but groaned in response to not having your warm body against his anymore or in reach, the discomfort finally managing to stir him awake.

the realisation also made him grumble to himself and try to go back to sleep — but it was difficult; he was starting to burn up and even after removing his shirt and throwing the sheets to the side, he couldn’t seem to cool off at all, a sheen of sweat matting down the dark hair on his chest, and even starting to bead on his forehead.

that’s when he knew he had to get up, at least wash his face if not shower.

however, as he got up, he groaned again, feeling lightheaded and hazy.

this definitely wasn’t normal.

once he finally managed to walk and get his balance — using the wall as guidance — he entered the adjacent bathroom: grabbing a towel and dunking it under cold water as soon as he turned the sink on, wiping his forehead and taking a glance at himself in the mirror.

he looked awful. his hair was messy, face slick and shiny with sweat, as he wiped at the stickiness that began forming back on his face almost immediately again. it felt like a fever but then again, he rarely caught those, no, he basically never did.

it would have been too out of place, but it being anything else wouldn’t have made sense either. his thoughts however were interrupted as he heard your voice speak up, because in his absence, you had started to wake up too — turning around in an instant to look at you standing in the doorframe.

“lo? what’s going on?” you’d mumble tiredly, rubbing your sleepy eyes. a little growl bubbled up in logan’s throat at the sight of you, all sleepy and pretty like you always were, he tried to ignore the little tug he felt in his boxers.

“nothin’, bub. jus’ a fever.” he merely managed to grunt out, turning back to the sink to heavily sigh, his hands holding onto the sides of it tightly for balance, but it was clearly more than that.

“fever?” you asked, echoing his words. you didn’t believe that for a second, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion and instant worry as you walked over to him, taking advantage of the way he instinctively turned his head to look down at you: allowing you to press the back of your hand against his hot skin, which felt ice cold compared to him. “baby, you’re burning—we need to go to the medical lab.”

he immediately shook his head at your concerned words, shutting off the idea in an instant. “no, no. ‘m fine, trust me. besides, it’s too early to go now. don’t wanna wake anyone else up for this, ‘s stupid.” he huffed, pulling away from your hand. but to you it wasn’t stupid. his words made you sigh; you hated when he’d deny he needed any help.

“logan— no, come on, baby, this is serious. we gotta get you help.” you started arguing, trying to at least even get him to look back at you again as he was now just hunched over the sink. and his breath did hitch for a moment when you called him baby, which was unusual, it had him feeling tingly inside.

he finally turned his head to look at you, still sweaty, as he tried to stand up straighter. “darlin’, told you ‘s fine— nothing more than just a—“ he paused, his eyes almost squeezing back shut as suddenly a wave of dizziness overcame him again, a curse leaving his mouth as he gripped onto the sink tightly again, so as not to lose his balance. this didn’t help ease your concern at all, as you quickly tried to help him balance himself. “l-logan— listen to me-“ you said, trying to keep him conscious too as you noticed him start to lose it: but it was hard to focus on even keeping him upright, your body trying to hold his up had him feeling worse and hotter.

“baby, up, gotta stay up— let’s get you back to bed,” your words floated hazily around in his clouded mind, and you were starting to struggle with him as he didn’t want to cooperate still. you were trying your best and he groaned, leaning up against you, his hand still gripping the sink tightly.

“enough, listen, ‘m fine, just need to sit down, alright?” he grunted, his body so close to yours now you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. you huffed at his words and rolled your eyes, but sat him down on the closed toilet seat.

“okay, okay. just sit and stay there, i’m gonna get something. i’ll be right back.” you told him, hearing him grumble faintly as you left the bathroom — he hated it, hated how you told him to ‘sit’ and to ‘stay’ like he was some damn dog, but yet, the thought stirred something up in him, and made him burn up even more.

thankfully, it wasn’t long before you came back into the bathroom: with what looked like some ice cubes wrapped up in a cold rag. you walked back over to him, standing in between his spread thighs, his big hands instinctively going up to paw at your waist and hips as he tilted his head up at you so you could press the cold rag to his forehead — a low groan and sigh of relief leaving his lips as the coldness made contact with his burning skin.

“that’s it, feels better, doesn’t it?” you sighed, one hand keeping the coldness pressed to his forehead and the other starting to run through his hair, through the little tufts on his head.

“mmph.” he grumbled, feeling as you then moved it to press against his neck, hearing a slight wince from him before he eased into it — your little ‘shh’s’ shushing him too.

he leaned back against the toilet seat, only serving to make you giggle softly as you took the cold rag from his face and instead started to rake your fingers through his coarse hair, scratching gently at the little two tufts on them. “let’s get you back to bed now, lo. get some rest for the morning, hm?” you hummed, to which he grumbled again — but didn’t protest. you helped him up and to the bedroom, feeling him collapse onto the bed instantly; the mattress sinking down slightly with his weight. you chuckled and got into bed with him, not even bothering to pull the covers over you two as he was already hot enough.

“thanks for… takin’ care of me, darlin’..” he mumbled hoarsely, his throat slightly scratched up, as he glanced over at you: your eyes looking back at him softly, illuminated by the pale moonlight that highlighted your small smile at his words, as you pressed a kiss to his cheek, the scruff there grazing your lips, and slipped your bare thigh between his own.

“anytime.”

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Extreme Fluff!! Sweet Intimacy!!! A little canon cannibalism

Description: Different ways Alastor likes to be pampered by Wifey!Reader

When it comes to his wifey...Alastor is super spoiled and he knows it, craves it like nothing ever before

He's a glutton for your attention and everyone knows it

Every little act of kindness, every drop of affection and loving gaze just melts over his (shriveled black)heart like a sugary glaze

Mmmmmm glazed hearts

Great now he's hungry

ANYWAYS-

Even the normal everyday things make him feel warm and fuzzy inside

Like when you bring him his favorite tea in the mornings, giving him a soft kiss on the side of his face as you drape your arms around him

"Mm...good morning my dear..."

Or when you smooth over an unruly hair for him or fix his bow tie before he leaves the hotel

You can't have your snookums going out looking like some scruffy strawberry clown

You always make sure his staff is clean and polished, suit flawless and pressed, shoes shiny before he has an overlord meeting

You're NOT going to let your pookie bear hang around the other overlords with smudged shoes

Just. No.

Loves the days that you drag him off to the bathroom to coax him into a hot bath

"You've been so tense lately... let me take care of you..."

How can he say no to you?

He just relaxes and closes his eyes, letting your gentle fingers massage his scalp as you lather shampoo in his hair

The candles and bubbles 🫧 were a good touch too 👌

He almost always falls asleep by the time you're done massaging and cleaning him up, once you start scrubbing under his nails then he's OUT LIKE A LIGHT

Not that you mind, he's so attractive when he's sleeping

WAIT HUSBAND DON'T DROWN

Wakes up to an empty bathtub and a warm towel being wrapped around him by his delicious boo

You're so good to him how did you know he needed this

Always finds himself in a better mood after that, like his problems have all been washed and scrubbed away by your gentle pampering

He secretly loves it when you come by his radio tower with a fresh lunch, interrupting his set just because he needs to eat

Though he pretends it's a big hassle

He savors the food you bring him either way, walking you to the door afterwards and thanking you for thinking of him

Bby boy that's all you do is think about him

He locks the door on your way out tho

Alastor loves the way you convince him to come to bed with you, knowing he needs to sleep but also armed with the knowledge that he'll fight bedtime like a child

You leaning on the doorway already in your sleep attire, giving him a soft pout as he tries to continue his work and ignore you

"Alastor..."

Not his ears flicking up at the sound of your voice

When whining doesn't work, then you slink your way over to him, cupping his cheek and forcing him to look at you

He's trying so hard not to though, the moment he looks at your face then he knows he's done for

"Look at me, darling~"

Okay maybe just a quick glance-

Alastor you are a strong man, you are cruel and sadistic and you are an overlord with very important business!! You can handle telling your wife no-

Ffffffffuck.

Not the gooey goo goo doe eyes

Immediately leans into your touch, savoring the feeling of your fingers stroking his cheek

Not his tail fluttering

"Come to bed already~ I can't sleep without you, you know..."

And that's how you convince him to get to sleep every single night, a full 8 hours or whatever is recommended in Hell

Getting out of bed is hard for him because you look so delectable asleep and curled into him

Maybe he should take more time to pamper you too

But he's a selfish, greedy man who likes being spoiled by his wife so that thought is gone as fast as it came

He gets out of bed just to watch you whine and blindly reach out for him, so adorably pathetic

Okay just five more minutes of snuggles then I gotta go-

If he's cranky then you manage to convince him to nap, patting your lap and stroking his hair once he lays his head down

Your soft singing lulls him into a light sleep as you scratch and rub the ends of his ears

Wakes up drooling

Wakes up with his face buried in your stomach, arms locked around your waist as he sleepily breathes in your scent

How is he supposed to get any work done with you around????

Alastor loves all those things but his favorite way that you spoil him?? His number one fave?? That he would never admit to anyone??

When you give him your special smile, the one that's always been his to see and his alone

The smile that conveys enough warmth and love to make all of Hell seem like Heaven, at least for him anyways

The same smile that he first saw when you told him that you loved him, the same smile that tells him you still love him

You spoil him

Alastor thinking of his wife:

[hai7ani]

Continuation ⚕ Main masterlist | cw bonten universe, smut, prostitution/sex work, murder, mdni

愛的最高境界是心疼

i.

Rindou is gentle with you today.

He always is, though 一 he never goes too far with you even in bed. He never treats you less than a human. He says one thing the night before, make you overwork yourself like the Daddy he is, and the next morning you'll find a few extra digits than what was originally promised sitting pretty in your bank account. Rindou is always gentle and generous with you.

His hands are sweet and sticky as they latch onto your skin, never letting go off your arms while he wipes you down gently in the bath. He rubs your cheek with wet thumbs and combs your hair with so much care in the world. He has never once tugged on them as harshly as the man did; never once hit you for pleasure in his own bed. Never. Maybe a few spanks on your ass here and there as a little foreplay or when you're being a tease, but he never hits you.

Rindou is so gentle with you.

"How's your throat?" He asks. Your bubble pops and you look at him dazed. "Still hurts?" He reaches a hand up to check on your skin. You move your neck away before his hands can reach you 一 almost as if you're scared.

He feels a foreign ache creep up his chest. His heart palpitates weirdly behind his bones. Your pupils dilate and you hide your neck with your arms. You shiver despite the warm water engulfing your body.

You are so frightened.

"I-" You swallow, feeling the sour ache going down your throat and you rub on your neck unconsciously, eyes squinting as you wait for the pain to pass. "I'm fine." Your voice is hoarse, very deep and broken, and he almost didn't hear you.

"The doctor's waiting out front. Want him to check?" He doesn't buy into your white lie at all. It's obvious it still hurts a lot and you won't let him touch you, or even see you. But you nod anyway and his shoulders relaxes a little.

ii.

"You're fucking insane!" Kokonoi is furious when Rindou waltzes into the room. "Blowing off a multi-million dollar deal for a whore, you're fucking nuts, Rindou!"

Mario Ricci is tied up against a wall, mouth stuffed with a bloody rag cloth as he struggles against the tight ropes wrapped around his figure.

"Yet you didn't proceed with it?" He questions in a sarcastic tone, an eyebrow raised and Kokonoi scoffs. "How could I? Gotta let these bastards know Bonten can't be fucked with. If I let him go more people will do it again."

Kakucho clicks his tongue from where he seats, next to Takeomi who is busy rolling up a blunt. "The deal is off the table now. No point arguing. We'll kill this guy and move on to the next. Keep everything quiet."

He stands, calves pushing against the heavy chair and it screeches loudly, sharply, against the concrete floor.

"But what about you?" His voice is low and dark when he addresses Rindou. He stares him dead in the eye.

"You're the reason why we have no deal. What are you going to do about it?"

The air is humid with Kakucho's anger 一 everyone in the room knows that much. For once, Sanzu is silent. He does not mess with his weapons loudly nor does he make a noise to pitch in his idea. Mochi's eyes are bright and sharp from where they burn holes into Rindou's back 一 he can feel the sting already. Ran is leaning against the wall behind Rindou while he plays with his set of keys in his pockets.

But Rindou remains stoic from his position. He is not afraid of Kakucho at all. He eyes the gun on the table next to him and snatches it off, soon realising that it belongs to Kakucho himself.

"I'll kill him, since that's what you want."

He aims for Mario's neck in one swift motion upon loading the gun. He sees the shimmer of desperation in his orbs, and he struggles to escape even further. His voice is muffled against the cloth shoved deep into his mouth but Rindou still hears him clearly.

"Please don't kill me."

"You're a fucking moron." And he pulls the trigger.

iii.

Rindou returns to his quarters very late into the night. You're still up at this hour despite having taken heavy meds a couple of hours ago, when he'd monitor you swallow the pills with an immense amount of pain in your throat.

He finds you in his kitchen scavenging through the cabinets and fridge for a little something to eat, like a sneaky little alley cat. His penthouse is ice cold, the servants have taken their leave long ago, and he dismisses Tsuji, his trusted right-hand, with a wave and an assuring nod.

Your sleeping gown (one that he got for you as a gift) hugs your curves beautifully under the white fluffy cardigan you like to keep yourself warm with.

He watches in silence, hiding behind a wall as you simply be yourself, alone, away from the eyes of just anyone at all. You give up scurrying for seasoning after a while, settling for the bowl of plain white porridge a servant had prepared for you earlier.

Rindou watches as you lean against the countertop and play with your feet, crack your toes out of habit, hum a soft melody, as you slowly eat your food. It's endearing to see you like this. You're quiet, you're calm, but you're alone and you're by yourself 一 and a smile nobody has ever seen him do stretches across his lips when you put down the bowl to do a little twirl. Your humming gets louder and he recognises the tune shortly 一 one that you have always liked playing on the piano sitting in his massive living room.

You're a slut, but you're also just a girl.

iv.

Rindou is still so gentle tonight when he wraps you in a thick blanket and smoothing a warm hand down the back of your head. Your scalp is still sore, so he doesn't run his fingers through your locks this time.

You're almost asleep when he makes a noise. Low, but comforting. His chest vibrates against your cheek.

"Do you want to leave?"

You're confused by his question. "Where?" You move your head away from his chest and look at him 一 eyes clouded with sleep, and you blink twice to see him properly again under the moonlight. The windows are closed but he left the curtains open. He likes doing that a lot.

"Follow another man, pleasure him instead. Or just leave, find something else to do. Pick one. I'm giving you a chance to live."

His voice is stern and this is how he chooses to start the conversation 一 by threatening to kill you if you do not make a choice right now. He is sudden and he is stubborn.

It's not like you want to, anyway. You're not afraid of him.

"No." You frown. "I want to stay here, with you."

He is nonchalant at your response, and you look like you're about to cry.

He does not respond or react.

"Are you giving me away?" You push.

Rindou finally lets out a breath he did not know he was holding in when the first tear finally rolls off your rosy cheek. "Please don't give me away. I'll be good, even more better for you. Today was a mistake. I didn't know anyone would be there. I was waiting for you to come."

He hates that you're blaming yourself for what happened to you earlier.

He hates that you're downplaying your trauma just to amuse him and make himself feel better, a little trick you had learned to use during your time while working in this industry.

He isn't enlightened, not at all 一 because he knows exactly what you're doing.

He'd ended the life of the man who'd put you in pain, but it does not mean that killing Mario Ricci would take the pain away from you.

The foreign ache from earlier has not once subsided from his chest. It remains, sometimes growing even more suffocating and frustrating. Like when he had to sit through the meeting hearing Kokonoi and Kakucho 一 mostly Kokonoi because he was at the scene, and he is still very unsatisfied with Rindou's behaviour 一 going back and forth about getting rid of you like you're just some giveaway slut because they claim he is being distracted from the real job at hand, while his eyes are constantly flickering between the two who are shoving accusing fingers in his face and the leash that Mario Ricci had tied you in sitting at the corner of the room.

You have managed to engrave yourself in all parts of his heart 一 every little nook and cranny, you are there.

The girl he's tried sleeping with earlier to make himself feel a little less bad about having to kill you as an apology to Mikey, doesn't feel the same. He keeps telling himself that you are just like any other girl from the many who are working under Bonten's establishments.

Yet the second he pushes in, he pulls out, away, and he leaves. He throws her a stack of cash anyway and makes his way back immediately.

Because she isn't you. She does not look at him like you do. To her, he is just like any other rich man paying her for quick pleasure. To you, he is everything gentle and soft and warm.

You have managed to capture his attention the first few nights you've spent together 一 two years ago, as a temporary replacement for the girl he had originally booked for that night.

And then he keeps coming back. Again and again for two whole years, and now you're looking at him like he'd just broken your heart. His heart beats wildly in his chest and he ushers for you to come closer to him.

The way you would hold onto him while he drills into you frustrates him. He likes that you always let him have his way in bed, but manages to make him cater to your likes in the end every single time, and he has to remind himself that he is the one paying for your services, but he never cares, because it's you. He puts an extra zero when transferring funds into your account and he handpicks your gifts. Your eyes are always so glossy and full of hearts when they'd gaze into his purples. Your mewls are always so sweet and only for his ears when you'd try to moan quietly even when you're alone in his lonely, freezing penthouse.

And you won’t fucking leave him.

You're a gentle, quiet girl, and you make him want to be gentle and quiet with you too.

You straddle him and pin him to the bed. You want him to take you seriously this time. "I am yours." You try to make yourself sound stern but your lips end up pouty and red and hot tears are dripping on his face.

He tried to, really. He really wants to take you seriously. But the collar of your dress is low and your milky breasts are showing. Your lips are so kissable and he folds.

He presses one hand down your back and guides your upper body closer to him.

"You don't wanna leave?" He asks, rhetorically. His voice is muffled when he buries his face in your mounds to kiss and suck on your tits. He sneaks a hand up under your dress to fondle with them, to grope your soft flesh and listen to you whine like an angel on his lap.

"Don't wanna." You pout.

He reaches under your dress to rub a sweet thumb on your clit 一 messy figure-eights and sticky circles, pressing down just the way you like it 一 through the thin fabric of your panties and watch as you unfold so beautifully before his eyes.

His favourite, pretty girl.

His heart starts beating normally again. It hasn't beaten like this for a very long time 一 not since he was a teen.

Haitani Rindou wonders just when did he ever lose the ability to love.

"You'll be my liability now."

[darknessisafriend]

I mean… you gotta do no. 2 for commodus it’s perfect

I really enjoyed writing this! and my the end makes me wanna write a chapter 2, I'm eager to have your review guys, once again, don't hesitate to comment and share, it really boosts my mood ^^

No one will oppose us - Commodus x Reader

2) Commodus ends up crying during sex that leads to a pause or early end to comfort and take care of whatever emotions bubbled over 

“By the Gods I needed this…” exhaled Commodus, bring his cup of wine to his lips, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he gazed at the horizon, his back against a tree trunk.

“Of course. It is good to be dedicated to your duty, but you need to think of yourself sometimes.” You replied, kissing his hand and snuggling more against him, the air of the evening was getting fresher, and it was welcomed, the day had been sunny and warm, even suffocating in Rome. You had ridden together with Commodus to the end of Ostia for the day, enjoying a day in anonymity, far from his duties and his father, watching the light waves of the sea.

“Why does he keep wanting me to read those damn dusty scrolls? I know our History, I know the bases of philosophy, why keep pushing it? it’s not there that we will find the future of the Empire.” He commented bitterly with a sneer. The more time passed and the more he grew distressed, his relationship with his father declined.

“Commodus…”

“Right. I know I promised not to talk about this today.” He apologized, it was hard not to talk about what he was forced to do from the first lights in the morning to the moon high in the sky. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t his son. That I was the son of some...commoner. I wouldn’t have to worry about this, I would have to worry about nothing but you.”  His passionate words made you blush, that was Commodus, a man who knew what he wanted, intensely to the point he was getting inconsiderate of all the rest sometimes.

“Well, things would probably be much...ah…!” you gasped as he grabbed your waist, making you two roll in the grass and finding yourself on top of him, leaves in your y/h/c hair. You looked at him, he was grinning to no ends. This was exactly what you were thinking earlier, yet that’s why you loved him.

“Yes, my love?” he asked innocently, his hands sliding under your stola to caress your thighs, the cold metal of his rings giving you goosebumps.

“Easier…” you breathed, your hands caressing his chest, going to play with his neck scarf, slowly undoing it “First, you wouldn’t be wearing all those layers of clothing.” You sulked playfully, making him giggle.

“That makes my body even more enjoyable, you have to pass through the great ordeal of undressing all those terrible layers!” He replied jokingly, enjoying your touch and straightening himself to help you undress him. “You on the opposite are way too easy to access…” he replied, glancing down at your cleavage, receiving a small slap on the shoulder “Ouch!” He pretended that it had hurt but he was clearly holding a smile.

“Go complain at whoever created women’s clothing. Surely some greedy man.” You grinned, sliding down his tunic and then undershirt, biting your lower lip as you enjoyed the sight of his bare sculpted chest.

“I am not complaining. In fact, I am rather thankful to be able to…cherish you so easily. As long as it’s just me…” He purred, bringing his lips close to your neck, kissing it slowly, sensually, his tongue licking your skin to get a taste of it. You swallowed down, closing your eyes, your mouth parting, one of your hands going to the back of his head, burying into his curly hair. His hands squeezed your thighs, pressing you on his lap, making you feel his hard-on. You shifted your hips on it, eager, your parts starting to get wet in anticipation. Commodus’ hand moved from your thighs to your breast, pulling on your tunic to expose your breast, his right hand massaging it and guiding your nipple to his mouth, sucking and nibbling it, making you exhale softly.

“Commodus…love...people could see...” you tried to explain, the trunk wasn’t big enough to hide you two ridding each other.

He lifted his head, his eyes dark with desire “I shall kill them if they lay eyes on you.” He said seriously, and wrapped an arm around your waist, making you tip over with a push of his hips. Now he was on top of you, already between your legs “Better?” He cocked an eyebrow, detailing you, how wonderful you looked with your breast exposed, your hair all messy with leaves in it, a true nymph.

“Much better.” You smirked; your finger going from his collarbone down to his lower belly. He licked his lips, lifting your stola, smiling. “Let’s hurry before we get caught.” You giggled, noticing his gaze stuck on your body.

“Then, get rid of that, darling.” He purred, briefly straightening to lift his tunic and undo his underwear eagerly as you took off your own. Your Commodus truly had the body of Hercules and when he was aroused…you felt like you had been sent to Elysium, his body, his desire…yours. You straightened yourself, not able to resist the sight of him, grabbing his face to crash your mouth against his. He moaned instantly, his tongue parting open your lips as you laid down again. He smiled between breaths, loving the passion you shared, the eagerness with which you took his cock and guided it inside you. He grabbed your thighs entering all the way inside you, making you gasp in pleasure, your hand grabbing his hair tightly, the other hand gripping his butt. You didn’t often have the occasion to be intimate, your carnal relationship a secret that those in power mustn’t know about. So, naturally when you reunited, it was rough, fast, noisy.

Indeed, despite having your bodies hidden, you weren’t really discreet. The chatter outside the tavern nearby, the singing of the howl wasn’t enough to cover the noises of his hips slamming against your butt, your moans that were being higher pitched and louder, even though you tried to be quiet.

“Shit...” panted Commodus, his eyes wet with pleasure as he put his hand on your mouth to muffle your noises, no matter how beautiful they sounded to his ears, he had to conceal them, if you got caught, it would be the end of it, and a painful one.

He whimpered excitedly as you licked his fingers, your legs wrapping around him, not wanting to part, pleasure quickly reaching its peak. “Y-you…are so beautiful…!” he moaned softly, his brows furrowed, delaying his orgasm by slowing down his pace, containing the urge to go stronger; instead inserting his fingers in your mouth, letting you suck them hungrily as you made eye contact with him, he bit his lower lip, on the edge. You were so seductive, so beautiful and you were his…but for how long? He suddenly thought. Damn those intrusive insecurities in that wonderful moment! He cursed internally.

But the more he tried to push away his worries, the stronger they became. His body was still moving, but his thrusts were becoming weaker and slower each time, he was burying himself in his mind and not in the present moment. For how long could you keep going like this? How many days before your relationship was discovered? How many days before being parted forever...Y/N gravely punished and humiliated while he would face the disappointment and anger of his father?

A tear rolled down his cheek, his eyelids fluttering, anxiety bursting in, making his breathing more erratic. This was going to end badly, and he had put you into this mess!

“Commodus? Love what’s going on?” you asked worriedly cupping his face, bringing him back to the present, the moment he met your eyes, he broke into tears, leaning into your embrace, not able to explain what was going on, too much was passing through his head. You both sat up, parting the most intimate part of yourselves, but your arms remaining around him, caressing his head and back soothingly, wondering what was causing this outburst.

“They’re going to take you away from me!” he exclaimed between choked sobs after a few minutes, taking your hands in his, kissing them, his tears wetting your palms. Pain flashed across your face, remembering that it was just you and Commodus. Because of his status, it was you, Commodus, Marcus Aurelius, the Senate and all those damn things that ruled the Empire. And you were just a commoner, your mother midwife who delivered the Empress children, surviving ones being only Lucilla and Commodus. You were still learning, no official status withing the imperial palace. Anyway, you were not suited for the son of Emperor, too lowborn.

You briefly pinched your lips together, squeezing him tight in your arms “We don’t have to let them do.” You murmured fondly, caressing his hair, kissing his temple, trying not to cry yourself and focusing instead on power, on will. “Commodus, when you will become emperor, no one will be able to oppose your decisions. The Senate doesn’t have the right to oppose your private choices.” You tried to reassure him, wanting to believe in this future together. You knew he wanted to lower the power of the Senate, increase the one of the Emperor, he could change it all.  

He lifted his head to look at you, cupping your face with one hand “What if Father chooses me a wife before that?” he asked sadly, he could buy time but the probability he was wed to a stranger was strong.

“If that’s the case…then I shall wait for you. And then Commodus, we will rule the world together, no one will oppose our love.” You breathed, a tear rolling down your cheek as you pressed your forehead against his. Commodus smiled, a promise sealed, one he would keep.

Thank you for reading and please don't hesitate to leave a comment, keeps me writing ! ❤️

tag list:

@skaravile @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @charlie-sisters @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @rajacero @niniitah-ah @morrisonmercurryphoenix @fly-like-a-phoenix @thatdummy-girl​r @galos-writing @pstvchld @chiclunatic @hopelessdisasterr @buttergirlie​ @rosebloodstuffandthangss​ @clowndaddyfleck @jaylovesbats @dreamingmaria @just-a-fucking-comedy​ @lady-carnivals-stuff​ @sierraclegane ​​ @lemondedeniname​​ @hvproductions ​​ @syvellsworld ​​ @papercut-paranoia ​​ @jokerflecker ​​ ​ @bring-your-holy-water @five-miles-over

[whereslynx]

Oscar and reader kept getting walked in on by the gang so they never get time alone and so they basically poke fun about how they seen spooky ass so many times

a/n: oops, my hiatus went on a little too long than i expected 😭

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Oscar couldn’t stop laughing as he leaned back on the couch, his chest shaking from how hard he was trying to catch his breath. You were curled up next to him, red-faced and fuming from yet another interruption. He rubbed a hand over his face, the mirth never leaving his eyes. “How many times this week now? Four? Five?”

“Six,” you corrected sharply, swatting his arm in frustration. “And two of those were Sad Eyes! Why does he think he can just walk in here like he owns the place?”

“Man’s got no shame,” Oscar chuckled, shaking his head as if Sad Eyes’ antics were some eternal mystery. He shifted to sit up straighter, his grin widening as he added, “But Joker? Nah, that’s on you. How you not gon’ lock the door after last time?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I thought he was supposed to be out, not walking in on us mid—”

Oscar smirked, leaning back with a casual confidence that only made you more flustered. “Mid-Spooky business,” he finished for you, his tone dripping with humor.

The sheer absurdity of his words broke your composure, and you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. “They’ve all seen more of you than I have at this point!” you managed between giggles.

Oscar’s laughter followed, deep and warm, filling the room. “Don’t act like you’re shy about it,” he teased, his arm sliding around your waist to pull you closer. “Besides, you’re the one yelling, ‘Don’t stop!’ loud enough for the whole block to hear.”

Your gasp was immediate, and you smacked his chest with mock indignation, your cheeks heating up at the memory. “Oscar!”

“What?” he said, his grin widening as if he hadn’t just called you out in the most shameless way. “I’m just saying, mami, maybe next time you wanna blame someone, you start with yourself.”

You groaned again, trying to fight the smile tugging at your lips. “Next time, you can deal with Sad Eyes walking in.”

“Sad Eyes?” Oscar scoffed, throwing his head back with a fresh round of laughter. “That man’s probably got a tally going by now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh along, the frustration of the situation melting away with his infectious energy. His fingers brushed your cheek, and he leaned in close, voice dropping into something softer. “Let ‘em see, baby. Don’t matter. You’re all mine.”

Your heart flipped at his words, and for a moment, the world outside disappeared. It was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other—interruptions, nosy friends, and all.

Oscar’s lips pressed gently to your forehead, his grin softening into something warmer, something that spoke volumes without words. “Alright, alright,” he relented, his tone affectionate. “But for real, they gotta start knocking. A man can’t get some quality time without someone barging in talking about business.”

You sighed, letting your head rest against his shoulder as you snuggled closer, the comfort of his presence easing your lingering frustration. “Maybe we should hang a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door,” you suggested, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

“Nah,” he countered with a mischievous smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “I’ll just start charging them every time they interrupt. Five bucks a head, ten if it’s Sad Eyes.”

Your laughter bubbled up instantly, the image of Sad Eyes begrudgingly pulling out crumpled bills vivid in your mind. The sound of your amusement seemed to wash over Oscar, his chest aching in the best way as he watched your face light up. Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your temple, the touch both tender and grounding.

“Seriously, though,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, the teasing giving way to something softer, more sincere. “We’ll figure something out. You deserve some peace, without all the interruptions.”

Oscar groaned dramatically, but the warmth in your shared laughter made it impossible to stay frustrated. You glanced up at him, catching the hint of sincerity in his smirk.

"You're sweet, Spooky," you teased, brushing your hand along his cheek. "Even when you're a pain."

"And you're trouble," he fired back without missing a beat, his grin tugging wider. "But you're my trouble."

Just as he leaned in, his lips brushing yours, the door slammed open. Sad Eyes strolled in, looking far too pleased with himself. "Yo, Oscar-oh, come on! Again?"

Oscar's patience snapped as he grabbed the nearest pillow and chucked it at him. "Do you ever knock?"

Your shoulders shook with laughter as Sad Eyes dodged effortlessly, leaning against the frame. "What can I say? Maybe put a sock on the door. Or better yet—get a lock."

You could hear Joker’s voice from the front porch, his heavy footsteps following soon after through the door, “Yo, Sad, what’s taking so long—“ He said before stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of you and Oscar all cuddled up on the couch.

“Oh, hell nahhh,” He mumbled, a cackle leaving his lips, “Almost got PTSD, thought I was gonna have to see Spooky’s ass again,” Joker laughed, earning a suppressed chuckle from Sad Eyes, but only a scoff from Oscar.

"Get. Out!" you and Oscar yelled in unison, your voices overlapping in perfect exasperation. Sad Eyes and Joker cackled, backing out but leaving the door wide open behind them for extra chaos.

Oscar let out a frustrated groan and flopped his head against your shoulder. "I swear I'm gonna kill those guys."

You giggled, letting your fingers weave through his hair as you teased, "No, you're not. But maybe you'll actually charge them next time."

"Fifteen bucks each," Oscar grumbled, his lips curving into a reluctant smile. "And I'm using it to buy a damn lock."

[kiwriteswords]

My Funny Valentine [Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader]

Masterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 1.9k|| AN: I have been binge-re-watching The Nanny for the first time since I was a teenager and got to the episode where Fran buys a billboard for Mr. Sheffield after thinking he was her secret admirer. I had to do this for Hotch and Reader!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, BAU reader, will they won't they relationship, Valentine's Day, mentions of Haley, mentions of a creepy police officer, based off an episode of The Nanny, fools in love.

Summary: Given your undeniable chemistry and attraction for one another, when an unsigned card with flowers and a teddy bear shows up on your desk, you assume it's from Hotch. After making a grand gesture for what you thought was in return, you both soon realize the truth.

Ever since you joined the BAU, your interactions with Hotch have been a mixture of professional respect and undeniable chemistry. Over the years, the flirty banter had evolved into a dance of “will they, won't they,” much to the entertainment--and sometimes frustration--of the team. 

Everyone could see the mutual attraction except, it seemed, the two of you.

Being Hotch's subordinate, you treaded carefully, harboring feelings you dared not confess, always secretly hoping he'd be the one to break the professional boundary.

You were younger--not inappropriately so (maybe just a little)...well, enough to make you question if this chemistry was all in your head. Enough questioning to allow these feelings to remain at a standstill--or at least until he broke first. 

This Valentine's Day seemed like any other day at the BAU, but when you arrived at your desk, you found a bouquet of pink carnations and a teddy bear holding a card. Your heart skipped a beat as you read the flirty message. 

"To the one who captures my thoughts as easily as she profiles unsubs. Happy Valentine's Day."

You couldn't help but think it was from Hotch. Carnations and a teddy bear? Not what you would have imagined Hotch picking out, but nonetheless, thoughtful. Unexpected. Thrilling. 

He was finally crossing that line drawn in the sand. The one you blurred and blurred but ultimately never swept away. 

Excitement bubbling up inside you, you rushed to share the news with Penelope Garcia, your go-to confidante for all things romantic and dramatic. The one who had been arguably rooting for you and Hotch more than anyone. 

Maybe it was the hopeless romantic in her, or maybe…just maybe, the proof was there in plain daylight with the way you and Hotch played your games with one another. Like a tennis match of back and forth--over and over. 

“My gosh,” Penelope squealed, looking at the card, “I mean…I can’t believe it. What are you going to do? What are you going to say!?” She leaned forward, capturing your arm, almost to steady her own excitement. 

“I want to do something for him…something nobody’s ever done for him before.” You thought carefully. 

Many would argue that you were…of the dramatic kind. Maybe that’s why you and Penelope got along so easily. Hotch would argue that you were dramatic the most. You often used it to your own advantage with him. 

You knew--although you’d both never admit it--you had Hotch wrapped around your finger so it was easy to use those puppy dog eyes when you didn’t feel like completing a case assignment or if you wanted the bigger room at the hotel. 

“You know,” Penelope pondered, “Now that I think of it,” She scrunched her face, “All of these years here, I’m not sure anyone’s ever left Hotch a Valentine. I mean…I gave him a pink fostered sugar cookie once, but even Haley…I don’t think there was anything here for him.” 

You smirked, raising an eyebrow, “He doesn’t seem like the type that’s going to like a velvet heart-shaped box filled with fruit-filled chocolates.” 

“That man is a closet sweet eater,” Penelope pointed at you, “But to your point, you’ve gotta do something…something grand. Something that will knock his argyle socks off.” 

You snorted, then really thought. Grand. Grand? What would be grand? Then it came to you. 

“I have the best idea.” 

The two of you giggled and brainstormed extravagant ideas to win Hotch's heart, finally settling on a grand gesture that no one could ignore--a billboard confession. You found the idea so wildly romantic, the perfect way to tell Hotch how you felt.

With Penelope's enthusiastic encouragement, you commissioned a billboard on Hotch's route home.

“Be My Valentine, Aaron Hotchner! Love your Y/N” 

However, as you prepared to leave work that evening, you received a call from the local police department asking if you enjoyed the flowers. Your stomach dropped as you recognized the voice--it was the overly friendly officer from your last case, the one Hotch had given a look to the entire time. 

The cheesy teddy bear. The cheap carnations. The corny card. None of that would be Hotch. You wanted to die. Crawl into a ball and die of embarrassment and stupidity, but not until after you got rid of that billboard!

Frantic, you rushed to find Rossi, Derek, and Spencer, blurting out your predicament and the mistake you’d made. They erupted into laughter but saw the urgency of the situation.

"We’ve got to get that billboard down before Hotch drives home!" you exclaimed, your face burning with embarrassment. You paced around the bullpen, looking up to Hotch’s office, then to them, then back up. You ran your hand over your face, stressed. 

Rossi, Spencer, and Derek gathered around you, each wearing an expression that meant business. Derek leaned against his car, arms crossed. "You know, you could just leave that billboard up. It's about time one of you made a move."

Rossi nodded, his wise eyes fixed on you. "We're all tired of the dance, kid. It's not just you suffering from all this uncertainty--Hotch is right there with you. You both need to take that leap."

Spencer chimed in, "Statistically, the likelihood of mutual feelings being reciprocated in situations like these is quite high. You might be pleasantly surprised."

You appreciated their support, but the thought of Hotch seeing the billboard without understanding the context terrified you. You grabbed your car keys and headed to the nearest hardware store. "I just need to fix this before it gets worse," you muttered more to yourself than to them.

At the hardware store, you picked up a bucket of paint and a roller, your hands trembling slightly at the thought of climbing up the billboard. Heights had never been your friend, but today, they seemed a lesser evil compared to the embarrassment of Hotch reading your unintended public declaration.

With the sun setting, you parked your car by the billboard and stared up at the looming structure. Steeling your nerves, you looked up toward the tall ladder that led to a ledge where the freshly painted billboard sat. You wished the service you paid earlier was available after hours to come and take down the work they had done so quickly. 

Each step up made your heart pound louder, but the fear of making a fool of yourself pushed you onward.

Once you reached the top, you positioned yourself to start painting, but a sudden wave of vertigo hit as you peered down. The can of paint slipped from your grip, tumbling down and splattering the ground below with white paint.

You looked up to the sky and raised your hands with defeat and tears forming in your eyes, “Is this some sick joke?!”

Climbing down was even harder, with your hands shaking and tears of frustration starting to blur your vision. Just as you reached the last few rungs, a pair of steady hands gently guided you down. You almost jumped out of your skin, only to turn and see Hotch, his face filled with concern.

"Hey, it's okay," he soothed, keeping his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

You took a deep breath, wiping away a stray tear, turning as you took your last step off the ladder. He steadied you on the last few steps down, his touch reassuring.

"I'm so sorry, Hotch. There’s been a huge misunderstanding," you began, your voice a mix of embarrassment and relief. "I thought those flowers and the teddy bear were from you, and Penelope and I--we…I just got carried away."

Hotch gave you a small, understanding smile. "Emily and JJ told me there was a surprise waiting for me on the freeway home. I left early to see what it was." The last thing you expected was Hotch’s calm voice breaking through your flustered apologies. 

Your heart sank, imagining what he must have thought seeing that message. "I was trying to cover it up before you could see it. I didn’t want you to find out like this." You gestured up to the brightly colored billboard with what felt like the most embarrassing thing in the world displayed for everyone and their mother to see. 

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” His gaze softened as he looked up at the message, then back to you. "I saw the billboard," he admitted a hint of awe in his voice. "Nobody has ever done anything quite like that for me. It was...unexpected, certainly, but kind in a way only you could manage."

Your heart fluttered, surprise etching across your features. "You liked it?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper, unsure if your ears were playing tricks on you.

"I loved it," he corrected gently, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders. "You have a knack for the dramatic, but it’s one of the many reasons I..." His voice trailed off, and he hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. The pause was palpable, every second stretching longer than the last until finally, he continued, "It’s one of the many reasons I love you."

The world seemed to stop spinning as his words hung in the air. "You love me?" you repeated, your voice a mix of hope and disbelief. Hotch reached up to brush a stray hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His hand lingered, cupping your cheek gently. Your hand reached up to cover his, leaning into his touch. 

Hotch nodded, a soft chuckle escaping him, as if it was common knowledge, like you should already know it--or maybe he realized he should have already said it. 

"Yes, I do. And I think it’s about time I said it."

Emotions swirled within you--relief, joy, and a love that had been quietly simmering for too long. It all bubbled to the surface as you stepped closer, reducing the space between you. "I love you too, Hotch," you confessed, your voice steady with conviction.

His smile was all the encouragement you needed. You both leaned in and under the soft glow of the streetlights and the shadow of the billboard, your lips met in a kiss that sealed the confessions of the day. The kiss was gentle at first, exploratory as if both of you were still gauging the reality of the moment. But as certainty took over, it deepened, affirming the years of unspoken feelings and flirtatious banter.

As you both pulled away, Hotch's eyes twinkled with a mixture of contentment and mischief. "Next time," he said with a playful grin, "I'll be the one buying flowers; you’ll know they’re from me. I wouldn’t dare buy you carnations, and they won’t come with a cheap teddy bear."

Your laughter filled the air, light and free, as you both made your way back to your cars, the billboard forgotten but its message now etched in both your hearts.

The next morning, as you walked into the BAU, you stood surprised. There, on your desk, stood two dozen long-stem roses in a vase, their crimson petals vibrant against the mundane backdrop of your office. Attached to the vase was a card, Hotch’s neat handwriting spelling out a message that was both flirty and utterly him: 

"For the record, I prefer dramatic gestures that involve flowers on days other than just February 14th. Here’s to many more, just the way we like them. --A."

The smile that spread across your face lingered long into the day, as did the warmth in your heart, knowing the dance of “will they, won't they” had transformed into a harmonious “finally, we did.”

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry @superlegend216

[loui3e]

Knuckle Velvet

And every drop of blood is love I don’t get back’

Old man!Logan Howlett x Reader

Summary: A night of cleaning bloody wounds leads to a lovely confession.

A/n: Can you tell I love old man Logan? And Ethel Cain? Lmao. Has been proofread.

Warnings: Some angst with comfort.

Words: 684

Logan had nowhere to go, battered and bloodied he limbed his way up your porch. His bruised knuckles hesitating at your front door. 

“Whenever you need me, I’ll be there.” 

Your words ring out in his mind, echoing hopelessly. As he finally bangs on the door, he hopes to god he didn’t take your statement too literally. 

“Christ what on earth.” You grumble out as you open the door, anger bubbling in your gut at the sudden disturbance to your sleep so late at night. You choke on your words though once you see the man before you; eyes widening with distress at the sight, jaw agape.

Logan stands in-front of you, four clean bullet holes in his white tank; now painted red. Blood oozes down his front and onto the wooden planks. 

“Sorry sweetheart, just didn’t know where to go.” Logan grunts out through gritted teeth, his hands clenching and unclench at his sides with each dull throb of pain.

“Oh my god.” You speak as your hand reaches out to fall on his shoulder trying to hold up his burly frame. Your eyes drag down to your soaked porch boards.

“Shit I’m sorry doll.” 

“It’s, fine, it is, they needed re-stained anyway.” You speak nearly incoherently, as your brain works at pace through your next actions. “Quickly inside.”

Logan’s taken aback by your generosity, he wasn’t exactly expecting a warm welcome; you’d probably shun him off your porch but instead you let him lean his weight on you. Hand firmly planted on his chest as you help him inside and onto your couch. 

“Off now.” You command rigidly, making a gesture towards his tank. You sound rough but Logan knows you well enough to know you’re only putting up a front to hide your anxiety; especially as you make off towards the bathroom for supplies whilst biting your nails. 

Rushing back with an arm full of medical supplies, Logan chuckles dryly at you. “Sure you’re not performing surgery on me?” 

“Don’t laugh.” You groan, unimpressed at his humour at this time. 

Logan spreads his legs wider for you so you fit neatly between; able to study the extent of his wounds easier. “Darlin’ don’t frown like that, you’re gonna get wrinkles,” he says trying to ease your mind; swiping a thumb over your brows. 

“You’re hurt though.” 

“I’m fine just needa’ get these bullets out first,” he speaks before standing up promptly; shifting you out of the way with a gentle shove to your hip.

“Logan, wait Logan I gotta check.” You chase after him but are instead greeted with the bathroom door flush with your face. “Damnit.” You whine, slipping down the back of the door until you sat down against it.

Soon the sound of painful groans hit your ears followed with the an unmistakable tink. Jarring up suddenly to your feet as the door swings open. “Now you can check.” 

With a wet cloth you clean blood from his wounds, then with some rubbing alcohol; you wince at each sharp intake of breath Logan makes as his wounds sting. 

As you sit kneel between his legs after finishing the bandaging you lay your head on his thigh with an exhausted sigh. Soon you feel a familiar hand running its fingers through your tousled hair.

“Sorry for worrying you.” Logan speaks earnestly, but you shake your head in response. 

“No don’t be, I’m just glad you came to me.” 

Logan’s shocked but not only your generosity, but your words. A pang settles within his heart at that, you wanted him no matter what condition he turned up in. Blood or cleanliness you’d be waiting with bandages or kisses. 

He runs his knuckles across your cheek, you lean into his gentleness; kissing each of his knuckles with care then his freshly wrapped wounds. As you do so you swear you hear a mumbled; “love you.” It’s hushed by your lips to his. 

You’ll bring him to bed that night and in the morning he’s on your porch with a bucket of stain in one hand and a brush in the other.

[heyhihellosworld]

𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫

Charles Leclerc x reader

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: Your Charles supporter in every high and low, always there to celebrate and help him in every way possible

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (almost only smut), a little angst

Notes: First time I publish any work for Charleees and this became just smut basically. I didn't really have any plot, just started with the smut so it became a little weird but anyway. I still struggle writing smut so this is not great but I feel like it's getting better every time at least

"That was really... impressive" you smiled sarcastically, catching his annoyed face getting even more so as his eyes rolled. "Can you just not" he sighed, stopping in front of you and wiping his face off the sweat with the towel he'd received after quali.

"What, I'm just speaking facts"

Charles didn't answer that, he just narrowed his eyes before drinking big sips from his water bottle. "Seriously" you hummed, wanting to push his buttons even though you knew it wasn't the smartest seeing as he was already annoyed.

"It is impressive, crashing two days in a row. Wow, I'm just so excited to see what you will do tomorrow. Maybe crash?"

Charles let out a grunt, staring at you really unimpressed by your attitude as you gave him your famous smirk. That smirk that he hated and loved at the same time because even if it could get on his nerves in situations like these, that smirk was also the thing he loved about you.

"You know just what to say to cheer a man up huh" he spoke monotony, not even looking at you as he whipped up his phone "Oh I do" you tilled, looking at him with a teasing expression but he only shook his head.

"You know, Carlos' girlfriend hugs him or comforts him when he fails" He spoke lowly, almost accusingly as he gathered his stuff.

"Lucky Carlos" you hummed, smiling at your boyfriend who finally let out a chuckle. The frown on his beautiful face melting off and relaxing

You moved to him, erasing the meter of space between you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You know I support you and I will listen to your rant all evening so I gotta have some fun as well. You know I love you and think you are the best driver in the world" you tutted, pecking his lips as he smiled "That sounded so sincere darling" he hummed making you laugh, kissing him again "It was"

Race weekends were a thrill. You loved them and hated them at the same time. Being at the grid was a vibe in itself, something hard to describe but being so close to the action also meant close to the danger. You loved racing but you hated the risks and seeing your boyfriend in the action left you with a never-ending anxiety. But you knew it was his dream so you had no choice but to support him and swallow your worries.

Ferrari was his dream but also his curse. The never-ending struggles and the pressure he put on himself made him overworked and twitchy but you also knew he loved all aspects of racing and he truly believed he could achieve great things with the team. You didn't doubt it but the road there was long and it took effort, not only from Charles and the team but for you too.

The day in honor Charles started at pole but there wasn't much denying that he had had a tough weekend so far, pole in both qualifying but also in the wall two times which of course took a lot of confidence.

The race was boring to say the least, nothing happening and Red bull being far top left little to no excitement in the top two. The real fight was between Charles and Alonso, Charles managing all the way to the podium.

You bubbled with joy as you watched him celebrate on the podium, spraying Champagne and laughing before he came down again. A large smile and Champaign covering his already sweaty face.

"You did it" you grinned, hugging him tightly as he entered the garage again. "I did, not the wall today eh" he grinned smugly, kissing you passionately before you pushed him off not wanting to be too much in the public eye.

-

You celebrated with the rest of the grid in a club that evening, not wanting to let Charles miss out on the fun just because you were there even if the Monegasque had been more tempted to stay in the hotel-room.

Charles was glued to your side the whole evening, kissing your shoulders, grabbing your ass whenever you were out of sight and always finding an excuse to touch you. Not that you were complaining but he was touchier than usual.

"What's with you today Char? Go out and party" Pierre joked, shoving his friend in the shoulder as he sat on a small couch-group with you and a couple of others. "No no, don't feel like it" Charles dismissed. "What's with him?" Pierre asked directed to you but Charles answered anyway, eyes rolling at his friend "It's nothing with me" he chuckled, shaking his head at the Frenchman who didn't let up

"He is just a bit needy" you smiled, grinning at Charles who glared at you whilst Pierre laughed out loud, raising his hands in surrender "Don't let me stand in your way mate" he chuckled, backing away winking at both of you.

"For real?" Charles sighed unimpressed, looking at you with tired eyes as you couldn't contain your laughter. "But it's true, isn't it Char?" you hummed, teasingly tracing your fingertips up over his thigh, smirking at the way his breath hitched when your fingers danced over his bulge.

"Maybe" he murmured, shoving your hand away with a warning glare.

"It's nothing wrong with it baby" you grinned, mocking him with your expression.

"Shush you" he muttered, shoving you away from him whilst you laughed.

It didn't take long for Charles to run out of patience, especially not since you seemed to find a way to tease him in every way possible so when you arrived at the hotel it didn't surprise you when he immediately attacked you with kisses, eyes asking you to help him out.

-

"Aww" you mocked, a pout on your lips as you jerked him off faster "you're so needy baby" you hummed. Every time your hand went to his tip your thumb slid over his tip making him release the most amazing sounds.

He looked so beautiful when he was like this. All needy and vulnerable for you. His eyes were hooded, lips parted and his brow furrowed in concentration. A thin layer of sweat covered his body as he tried to let you do your thing despite his itching muscles and need to touch you.

He was close, you could clearly tell by the way his things tensed and bucked into your hand. "Y/n, baby, please" he gasped out, only making you speed up your movements. When your other hand made its way to gently touch his balls he was gone.

He threw his head back, eyes rolling as he stuttered out moans, quickly coming undone. The thought about stopping crossed your mind but the look on his face, begging you to not, made you finish him off.

Your lips hushed the sounds coming from his lips loud enough to be heard to the rooms around you and you knew he would be teased to death the next day if they heard him.

"Yes Charlie, that's it, come for me" you whispered, his eyes closing as he came over his stomach, body trembling as he breathed hard trying to catch his breath.

He stayed in the same position for a while, trying to stabilize his breath as you observed him. Sometimes you couldn't believe that out of all the people on this earth he chose you to be with, looking at him like this made you feel like he was something extreme. So beautiful you couldn't even describe it, lips parted, eyes hooded and skin shimmering in the late evening-light.

Soon enough he started to move, breaking you out of your little bubble. He got up on his knees, wraling the small way it was to where you were sitting crossed legged just right beside him before he gently pushed you down on the soft mattress. The playful grin he had on his face made you giggle as you fell on your back, inviting him to get on top of you.

"Stop laughing" he pouted, seemingly offended but the smile he couldn't hide betrayed him. "Sorry sorry" you smiled, patting his shoulder reassuringly as he hovered over you.

His smile mirrored yours, his dreamy eyes smiling too. "Wanna take care of you too" he murmured, his breath fanning your ear.'making you shiver. "Do whatever you want" you softly hummed back, gently running your fingers through his soft hair.

The way his eyes fell shut at the sensation and his neck craned into your touch made it clear that you were the one in charge tonight, he wanted you to take charge and he'd happily obey.

You let him be for a second, his lips kissing over your shoulder and neck as his fingers teasingly traced your panties. Fingers dipping into the waistband before disappearing to gently caress the soft skin on your tummy. When you let out a grunt of annoyance he immediately threw a glance at you, smirking as he got the memo.

You couldn't help but to let out a moan as his fingers finally dipped down into your panties. His slick fingers spread your wetness around before gently playing small precise circles on your clit. He loved watching your face whenever he was touching you, relishing in pride that he made you feel that way, that he could make you cum and become fuzzy for him.

His fingers found your entrance, slowly flicking into you making your mouth fall open. Your body wriggle around, trying to get away from his skillful fingers as it felt too good. His thumb connecting to your clit made the dam break as you pushed his hand away. Challenging him with your look as he whined, wanting to make you cum.

He immediately fell quiet when he saw your look, your hand wrapping delicately around his throat as you kissed over his jaw. "What was that huh?" you hummed, feeding on the sound he let past his lips. "Nothing" he hummed quickly, eyes fleeting over you as a wicked smirk crawled over your face. You loved this power-balance you had. Having Charles dominate you was always bound to be thrilling but you also loved being the one in charge. Having him following your demands was a rare type of power, of course built on complete trust. But you also loved how you sometimes didn't need to have any power, you could just be you, together.

Today was your chance to take the reins though, feeling like it had been a while since you did last since Charles had gone through a period of wanting control, which you didn't mind at all but it did feel great to take charge now.

Your fingers tightened slightly around his throat, not hard enough to choke him for real, just to mark your dominance.

"Thought so" you smirked, flipping him around so you were on top. You gave him a cheeky smile as your mouth trailed a path of kisses down his chest and over his navel, kissing over his abs and v-line as he breathed hard. Your mouth graced over his rock-hard dick but you ignored it for the time being, wanting to tease him slightly.

"Y/n please" he pleaded, hips rutting to get close to your mouth but you just chuckled, pressing his hips down on the sheet as you licked over his abs. "What is it baby?" you hummed in a mocking tone, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you licked up his chest before hanging your face close to his.

"What do you want, Charlie?" you hummed again, breathing over his face because you knew it drove him crazy, along with calling him Charlie that you knew turned him on when in this situation. "Want you to touch me, fuck me, please" he hurried out, his hands gripping onto your hips hard.

"Aww are you needy again" you teased, kissing over his cheek as he tried to calm down his shallow breathing. "Please y/n" he whined, trying to position you over his dick with his hands but you only tutted at him "No no" you chuckled, slapping his hands away.

He looked so fragile and vulnerable in the way he laid there, trying to obey your wishes whilst fighting to not break. His eyes were glossy, body twitchy and lips swollen from biting at them. You took pity on him as he wriggled, uncomfortably hard and face contorting.

"Aw baby, look at you" you mocked, wrapping your fingers around his dick softly which made him gasp out a moan, eyes squeezing together.

"Fuck, I hate when you are bratty like this" Charles moaned out, making you chuckle at him, smirking cheekily. "You do?" you teased, jerking him off slightly quicker, relishing in the sharp breath he breathed in before letting his head fall back into the pillows

"I really do, but I love it too" he murmured, biting his lip so hard it would draw blood "Oh I know you do Charlie, the submissive part of you love to be under my mercy. But the dominant part wants to punish me, doesn't it?"

"It really does" he gritted out as your thumb rubbed over his sensitive tip "Oh but I know you love this so much right now Char, just laying here and taking what I give you, letting me control you" your voice was thick, seductive and sweet as sugar as he nodded "I do love it"

You chuckled again, slowly stroking him before stopping completely not wanting him to cum like this.

You kissed his lips sweetly, his lips melting into yours as you lined him up with you, slowly rubbing his dick over your wetness. When you started to sink down on him he broke the kiss, gasping in symphony with you as you sank down all the way, taking him to the hilt.

"Fuck baby" he moaned, blinking quickly as you stroke his cheek, breathing heavily into his neck, your hips moving in circles, letting yourself get used to him.

After a few seconds of kissing and snogging you sat up so you straddled him for real, your hands planted firmly on his strong chest as you started to move more firmly on him.

His hands on your hips simply stayed still, you not letting him control your movements as you quickened your pace before slowing down, rolling your hips to create the best pattern for both of your pleasure.

Both of your moans bounced around in the hotel-room. No longer being able to think long enough to cover either of your mouths as the sounds got stronger and louder the longer you rode him.

"Fuck fuck y/n, I'm close, please" he blabbered, blinking up at you with the most pleasure struck look you'd ever seen on him. "It's okay baby" you hummed, going faster over him, slamming your hips down on his every time he bottomed out inside of you.

"A-are you close?" he asked softly. You nodded, stilling your hips for a moment as you took a grip on his hand, leading it to your pussy and firmly placing his fingers on your clit. Charles didn't need more instructions than that as you started moving again, rubbing firm precise circles over your clit in the way he knew drove you crazy, and tonight was no different.

It got harder to move smoothly as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly, your head dropping as your moans became louder. Your eyes found his, asking him to help you and he understood, meeting your thrusts with his own making him feel even bigger and reach even deeper inside of you. You angled your hip, trying to hit the perfect spot and when you did find it, it didn't take long for your eyes to roll as your orgasm flooded over you, taking Charles with you as he moaned out loud, not caring anymore.

It took a few minutes for you both to calm down and regain your normal breath. You lead him to the shower, taking turns in gently washing each-other to get rid of the sticky feeling of sex.

You wrapped yourself in his arms, peppering his face with kisses as he chuckled, wrapping you tightly to his chest. "Love you amor" he whispered, his characteristic smile playing on his lips. "Love you to Char" you hummed, stroking beads of hair out of his tired face "Love you even if you drive in to the wall" you smiled, catching his eyes roll before chuckling in defeat "as long as you don't hurt yourself of course" you added, kissing his nose sweetly.

[allthemeniveloved]

Too Sweet - Sequel to Cradle

Summary: Arthur wears his daughter’s flower crown into town, showing his love and care without hesitation.

wc: 1,415

ao3 link, part 1

a/n: Inspired by @scarletlove2's comment!

The soft coos of your baby girl filled the cabin as dawn broke over the horizon, golden light filtering through the curtains. Arthur was already awake, sitting by the hearth with her cradled in his arms. His eyes were tired, shadows darkening the space beneath them, but his expression was peaceful. Content.

You watched them from the bed, a quiet smile playing on your lips as Arthur rocked her gently. His large, calloused hand dwarfed her tiny body, but his movements were impossibly delicate. He hummed an old tune, one you recognized from the gang’s nights around the fire, and though his voice was rough, it carried a soothing rhythm that made you want to drift back to sleep.

“You’re up early,” you said softly, sitting up and wrapping a shawl around your shoulders.

Arthur glanced at you, his lips curving into a small smile. “She woke up hungry,” he said, nodding toward the empty bottle on the small table beside him. “Didn’t wanna wake you. Figured you deserved some rest.”

You stood and crossed the room, leaning down to press a kiss to his scruffy cheek. “You deserve some rest, too, Arthur. You’ve been running yourself ragged.”

He shook his head, his gaze dropping back to the baby in his arms. “I’m alright. Can’t seem to sleep much anyhow. Every time I close my eyes, I think about… things.” He hesitated, his voice growing quieter. “What kinda world she’s gonna grow up in. What I’ve gotta do to make sure it’s good enough for her.”

Your heart ached at the weight in his words, the unspoken fears that lingered behind them. You knelt beside him, resting your hand on his arm. “You’re already doing it, Arthur. Just by being here. By loving her.”

He didn’t answer right away, his thumb brushing over your daughter’s tiny hand as she squirmed against his chest. “She deserves better than this life. Better than runnin’ and hidin’. She deserves a home.”

You nodded, your own thoughts echoing his. Life with the gang wasn’t what you wanted for her—or for yourselves. The danger, the uncertainty, the endless cycle of violence and survival—it wasn’t a life you could bear to raise her in.

“I’ve been thinking about that,” you admitted quietly. “About leaving.”

Arthur’s head snapped up, his blue eyes locking onto yours. “Leavin’? You mean… for good?”

“Yes.” You held his gaze, your voice steady. “I know it’s dangerous, and I know Dutch would never let us go easy, but… we can’t keep doing this, Arthur. Not with her. She needs stability. She needs to grow up somewhere she can be safe.”

He was quiet for a long moment, his brows furrowed in thought. You could see the conflict in his eyes—the pull of loyalty to the gang warring with the deep, unshakable love he had for his daughter. For you.

“You’re right,” he said finally, his voice heavy but resolute. “I’ve been thinkin’ the same. Just didn’t know how to say it.”

Relief flooded through you, and you leaned your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Arthur sighed, his free arm wrapping around you to pull you closer. For a moment, the three of you were wrapped in a quiet bubble of warmth, the weight of the world outside held at bay.

“I’ll talk to Charles,” Arthur said after a while, his voice thoughtful. “He’s good at coverin’ tracks, and he’ll keep quiet. We’ll need supplies, horses… somewhere to go.”

You nodded. “We’ll find a place. Somewhere far from here.”

Arthur looked down at the baby, her tiny hand clutching his finger in her sleep. His jaw tightened, and you could see the determination harden in his expression.

“I ain’t lettin’ anything happen to her,” he said firmly. “Or to you. We’re gettin’ outta this, and we’re gonna give her the life she deserves.”

You believed him. Arthur had always been a man of action, and now that he had a purpose that went beyond survival, you knew he wouldn’t stop until he’d seen it through.

The sun climbed higher in the sky, bathing the cabin in warm light. Your daughter stirred, her little eyes fluttering open as she let out a soft cry. Arthur stood, handing her carefully to you.

“Guess she’s hungry again,” he said with a small chuckle.

You smiled, holding her close. “You go rest, Arthur. I’ve got her.”

He hesitated, his protective instincts warring with his exhaustion, but finally he nodded. “Alright. Wake me if you need me.”

As he climbed into the cot and closed his eyes, you sat by the fire with your daughter, the weight of the coming changes heavy but hopeful in the air. The road ahead wouldn’t be easy, but with Arthur by your side, you knew you could face it.

-

The morning sun spilled golden light over the wildflower-dotted meadow just beyond the small homestead you and Arthur had built. Your six-year-old daughter, Sarah, was kneeling in the grass, her little hands busy weaving a crown from the flowers she’d been gathering all morning. Arthur sat nearby, his long legs stretched out and his back propped against a tree, watching her with a smile that softened his rugged features.

“You about done there, little miss?” Arthur teased, tipping his hat back to get a better look at her handiwork.

“Not yet, Papa!” Sarah said, her small tongue peeking out in concentration as she tied a daisy stem into place. “You gotta be patient.”

Arthur chuckled, leaning his head back against the tree. “Patience, huh? You sure you didn’t learn that from your ma?”

You smiled from the porch, where you were sitting with a cup of coffee, watching the scene unfold. Sarah had Arthur wrapped around her little finger, and you both knew it.

Finally, Sarah stood, holding the flower crown aloft like it was a treasure. She marched over to Arthur with a triumphant grin. “Okay, Papa! All done!”

Arthur sat up straight, his grin widening as she climbed into his lap and carefully placed the crown on his head. It sat crooked, teetering on his messy hair, but she clapped her hands in delight.

“There!” she declared. “Now you’re a king!”

Arthur laughed, the sound deep and genuine. “A king, huh? Well, I reckon I couldn’t ask for a better crown.”

“You have to wear it into town!” Sarah said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “So everyone knows you’re a flower king.”

Arthur raised a brow but didn’t hesitate. “Alright, if that’s what my princess wants.”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “Arthur, you’re really gonna wear that into town?”

He shrugged, his expression as relaxed as ever. “Why not? Ain’t nobody’s business what I wear.”

Sarah beamed, throwing her arms around his neck. “You’re the best, Papa!”

Later that afternoon, the three of you made the trip into town, Sarah skipping happily beside Arthur while he strode confidently through the dusty streets, flower crown still perched on his head. People turned to stare, some with bemused smiles, others with outright laughter. Arthur, however, didn’t so much as flinch.

“Mr. Morgan,” an elderly woman called from her rocking chair on a porch. “That’s quite the look you’re sportin’ today.”

Arthur tipped his hat—well, the flower crown—at her with a grin. “Why, thank you kindly, ma’am. My little girl made it for me. Ain’t it somethin’?”

The woman chuckled, waving him off. “You’re a good father, Arthur.”

Sarah giggled, tugging at his hand. “See, Papa? Everyone loves it!”

You walked a step behind them, your heart full as you watched the easy way Arthur carried himself, unbothered by the stares or whispers. For all his gruffness and rough edges, he’d become the kind of father you’d always dreamed he’d be: patient, loving, and willing to wear a flower crown in public if it made his daughter smile.

When the errands were done, and the three of you made your way back home, Sarah sat on the wagon seat between you and Arthur, her little hands busy weaving another crown. She looked up at him, her eyes full of admiration.

“You’re the best king ever, Papa,” she said.

Arthur looked down at her, his blue eyes soft. “And you’re the best little princess a man could ask for, I reckon.”

As the wagon rolled on, laughter and love filled the air, and the flower crown stayed on Arthur’s head until the sun dipped below the horizon.

꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰꧂꧁✰

a/n: I'm not very good at writing children's dialogue, my apologies! Hope you still enjoyed!

[nevarrhoe]

mea culpa (m.m) - 4

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

warnings: smut !! p in v, she/her pronouns used for reader

series master list

any minors caught interacting will be blocked and reported

What was meant to be one night with Matt Murdock quickly turned into two, and then three, and then four. And then it was a week, and before you knew it, an entire month had passed. Twenty-eight days of nothing but bliss and what Matt was sure was the closest thing he had ever experienced to heaven. It was like you existed in a bubble: just you and him, locked away in his apartment, eating Chinese or fucking on every viable surface. It was nirvana in a way you had never thought existed.

He was everything you needed, in every sense: grounding and warm in conversation, with a sharp wit and dry humour. He also made you feel things you hadn’t thought possible. You figured that was the difference between the college boys you used to fuck around with, compared to a weathered man in his thirties. That fact had worried you at first - the age difference, the class difference, the everything difference - but none of it mattered when you were together. You and Matt matched each other in a weird way. 

He’d spent his entire life searching for the next thing: the next case, the next bad guy to take down, the next adventure. When he was with you, he felt satisfied. There was no scratch to itch. No thirst to find something greater. He was content. 

And for you, your focus was always pissing off your father. Matthew was just old enough and just enough of a good man and a good lawyer to do that. Not that you ever planned on your old man finding out about your relationship, but he provided an opportunity that felt just sexy enough to fulfil your rebellious side.

Maybe it was more than that. Maybe there was a connection. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to give it too much thought. Thinking ruined everything. 

“Good morning.”

Matt woke you as usual; strong arms wrapped around your waist and coarse hands roaming over your stomach. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and pulled you towards him. It was clear what his intentions were - the same as they had been last night and every night before that. 

“Morning,” you rolled over and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I would love to stay, Matthew, but my dad needs me in the courthouse at nine.”

He let out a low grumble. “I didn’t realise that you worked for him.”

“I don’t,” you grinned at his expression. “But in order for him to keep paying off my credit card, I gotta run a few errands for him every now and then. That way, I don’t have to work and…” you leant in a little closer, pressing a kiss to his ear. “You get me all to yourself, all the time.”

“Okay, yeah,” Matt huffed, pressing a hungry kiss to your lips. “I can deal with that.”

“Good,” you smiled. “So you’ll let me go?”

“What choice do I have?”

“None,” you replied. 

Rolling out of bed, you scooped up the clothes that had been discarded the night before. Matt had taken you to Josie’s, and then you’d stumbled back here and resumed your usual activities. It was rare that you went out to drink in public; anywhere past Midtown was out of the question because of your friends, and Josie’s because of his. Last night, however, Foggy and Karen had both been working late so you’d had the chance to hang out there for a few hours without being seen. 

You shoved your blouse into your bag and picked up a shirt of Matt’s, pulling it over your head. He didn’t protest, instead laid back in bed with his arms folded behind his head as you pitter-pattered about. It was nice to listen to. 

“I’ll see you later,” you softly pushed back some of his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Things had never been this intimate in the beginning. The first few times you’d stayed over, there was no hanging about in the morning. You would normally just up and leave - sometimes before Matt had even woken up. Then, you’d started staying for coffee, and then breakfast, and now…you never left without saying goodbye. It felt wrong. 

“Or,” Matt grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back into bed. “You could just stay.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips, purposefully centring your core on top of - as it was often so eloquently put - his morning wood. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, tangling your hand in his hair. It felt impossible to get enough of him. Every time you thought he’d given it his all, he gave more. That had been why you’d kept coming back - at first, at least. 

“Matthew,” you grumbled. “I can’t. I have to go, I have to shower before I get to my dad’s office-”

“- shower here,” he cut you off, lips momentarily straying from your neck. “Wear my clothes. I’m sure I have a suit that will fit you.”

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Because that won’t be a dead giveaway, will it?”

Matt paused, juniper eyes seemingly finding yours for just a split second. It was a tense subject -you and him, and…well, everyone else. Your relationship would be a little more than just frowned upon. You’d probably get a bollocking from your dad and maybe a limit on your credit card but it was more than that for him. His entire career would be blown up. 

“I wish…” Matt spoke, but then stopped. 

“What is it, Matt?” you asked. 

“I wish we didn’t have to hide,” he murmured. 

That was the first time he’d ever said anything that implied your relationship was more than just a fuck: if you were just sleeping around, what was there to hide? Obviously, you hung out at his apartment but what if he wanted…more. Like dinner, and dates, and things that normal couples did. All things that were elements of a relationship built on something other than mere craving. 

“Yeah,” you softly sighed. “I mean…what we can do? Sneaking around might get old but I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, it’s alright for now,” Matt replied.

For now. 

–

You made it to the courtroom just after 9AM. 

The weather was warm that day, so you’d opted for a little black dress (Gucci, of course) and some black heels (Chanel, stolen from your mother). All eyes were on you as soon as you entered the courtroom: that was natural, given your relation to the District Attorney, but also because you were the nicest thing to look at in a ten-mile radius. There was nothing but old men, stretched out down the corridor with their brief-cases and creepy smiles. 

And then, hanging out by the vending machines, was Matt Murdock. He dared not acknowledge your presence but even just seeing him made you feel better. 

“Darling!” 

“Dad,” you spun around on your heel. “Good morning.”

“You’re late,” your father replied. “Where have you been? You’re late.”

“It’s 9:03.”

“Traffic,” you shrugged. “You’re lucky I’m here at all so I suggest you do not talk down to me-”

“- don’t get mouthy,” he cut you off. “Not here.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “What do you want me doing?”

He shoved a pile of folders into your hand with a fake smile. “I need you to look at the alibis for the Thomspon case. There are holes everywhere and it’s well below my pay grade to find them.” 

“Holes?” you frowned. 

“Yes. Holes. The defendant’s alibi is about as reliable as you after a few martinis,” he explained. “You have a law degree. I’m sure you can figure it out, sweetheart.”

“Right,” you muttered. 

“Take them to my office,” he said. “One of Thompson’s attorneys will be around this afternoon to come and collect them. Tread lightly with them. They haven’t been happy with me since they realised I’ve basically got this one in the bag.”

“Another unfair win for the DA?” you innocently asked. 

 “A very fair win,” your father shot back. “I’m surprised they’re letting him go to court at all with the lack of evidence that they have. It’s not going to be a good day when they lose.”

Your father’s office was situated at the back of the courthouse. The man had overhauled as much as he could without the city kicking up a fuss about it being a protected landmark. The walls had been stripped and painted white, and all the furniture replaced with black leather chairs and glass desks. There was no art - no books, no pictures, nothing. He’d spent millions on it and it was somehow still alarmingly more boring than the grey rooms the attorneys, defendants and witnesses had to sit in down the hall.

That was telling, wasn’t it? Maybe your dad wasn’t in charge of funding for every last room in this place but hell. He didn’t exactly look out for the little guys. It was a wonder he kept getting voted back in. That was probably another matter of money. 

Your task made for a very boring morning in a very boring place. There were hundreds and hundreds of papers to look through; testaments from witnesses, alibis from the defendant, CCTV footage that had him confirmed in what felt like twenty places at once. You didn’t have much time to go through them either, not when his attorneys were due to collect the evidence at midday. 

“There’s no fucking case here at all,” you quietly muttered to yourself. Your dad had been right - for once. His lawyers were doing him dirty by letting him go to trial with every piece of evidence pointing against him. 

And it wasn’t until you got to the last page that you saw his lawyer’s signature and realised who exactly those lawyers were: an M.Murdock and F. Nelson.

Fuck.

Leaning back in your chair, you glanced up at the clock: 11:58. Either Matt or Foggy would be here any second to collect the files, and you could only hope it wasn’t the one you’d been sleeping with for the last month. That would have been an awkward conversation. 

But fate was a bitch, right? And you knew the second that you heard the tapping of a cane that Matt was right outside your door. 

He knocked twice. Matt always knocked twice. 

You stood up, brushing off your skirt and pulling open the door. “Mr Murdock - please, come in.”

Matt had you pushed up against the door the second it was closed, large hands gripping your waist and lips attacking your neck. Normally, you would have been completely there for it - there was an expensive sofa that you could fuck on right there. It was just that your mind was a little…preoccupied. And he picked up on it right away. 

“Hey,” Matt frowned, hand ghosting over your cheek. “What’s up?”

“It’s uh…” you pulled back and pushed his hands off of you, moving to lean against the desk. 

“Is it the way your dad spoke to you earlier?” he asked. His face was etched with concern - and maybe a little with overprotectiveness. “Because I overheard that and I didn’t like it one bit-”

“- it’s your case, Matt,” you cut him off. “I just signed off on the evidence on behalf of my dad. We’re - I mean he’s happy to take it to court but I feel like I should tell you that it’s a guaranteed win for his office.”

Matt frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The evidence in those files isn’t going to help your client one bit,” you quietly explained. “And we have a legal duty to deliver it to the courts.” 

“Thomspon is innocent.”

“You might think so but his entire defence is hearsay. The victim’s statement is pretty much bulletproof and there’s CCTV footage that places him at the crime scene,” you continued. “If you want my advice, I’d get him a plea deal and call it a day.”

Matt’s body language changed in a second. He took a step back from you, dark features etched with an entirely new type of frown that you were yet to see on him. You didn’t like it. 

“Are you giving me legal advice-”

“- no!” you snapped. “I’m just trying to help you. I know you put your heart and soul into this case-”

“- and you’re about to blow it apart!” he cut you off. “Where did you even get all this?”

“This evidence was delivered to the office. I’ve signed it and I’m sending it off once you’ve signed it too. I was just trying to prewarn you.”

You’d come this far without your differences getting between you. Now, it felt like they’d hit like a bullet. 

“Thomspon is an innocent man,” Matt lowly repeated. “And you’ve just assisted in providing evidence that’s going to send him to prison -”

“- why are you acting like I’ve done this on purpose?” you cut him off. “Like I said, I’m just doing my job and you’re just doing yours. It’s not that deep.”

“Not that deep?” he scoffed. “Maybe not to you. This is all just money to you and your father, isn’t it? Just a throwaway case, maybe.” 

“No!” you exclaimed. “Not at all. I didn’t mean to get involved. I’m just the messenger, Matt-”

“- no, it’s more than that.”

Matt paused for a second - though it felt much longer. He seemed angry at you but you were pissed at him. Not only for kicking off at you, but for putting you on the same level as your father when you had tried so hard not to let that happen. How many hours had he spent convincing you that you were your own person? Encouraging you to stand up for yourself?

“We’ll never see things the same way,” Matt continued. “At the end of the day, I’m me, and you’re just…you’re a spoilt little rich girl.” 

You froze. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“I…” he trailed off. “It was easy to ignore at first but I think this has shown me. We’re from different worlds and no matter how hard you try, you’re never going to understand-”

“- you should watch your mouth, Matthew Murdock,” you took a step towards him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I might be a spoilt little rich girl but I would much rather be that than a man who runs his fucking mouth and kicks off without even listening to what I have to say.”

“Maybe I didn’t word it the best,” he calmed down for a second, trying to gather himself. “What I meant was-”

“- oh, I know what you meant!” you laughed incredulously. “Just take the files and get the fuck out. This was never going to work anyways.”

[steddieas-shegoes]

top shelf pretty

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘top’

rated t | 510 words | cw: alcohol, mention of recreational drug use | tags: flirting, drunk shenanigans, getting together, implied happy ending

🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃🥃

Eddie’s never had top shelf anything, not even that time Wayne took him to a fancy restaurant to celebrate his graduation. He liked cheap shit that got you drunk fast and hungover faster.

So when Steve decided to have a party for all the adults, dragging out his dad’s $300 bottle of whiskey and his mom’s most cherished champagne, Eddie went at it the same way he would have with anything else. He was disappointed to find that five shots of whiskey didn’t seem to do much for him.

“You gotta let it sit, man,” Argyle smiled at him, already crossfaded. “Good shit takes time.”

He would’ve thought the opposite, but whatever.

He sipped on a glass of champagne, gagging at the bitterness of the bubbles.

“Doing okay over here?” Steve asked from right behind him.

“When did you get there?” Eddie slurred.

“Ah, so doing really okay,”

His hand was on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie’s heart was on the floor.

He turned to respond, but the world was spinning and Steve had a twin standing right next to him. When did he get a twin? He was an only child an hour ago.

Steve was touching his hair. Oh god. His fingers were so big, but so delicate, and gentle, and-

“Hey, maybe you should have some water.”

Eddie nodded. Water was good. He liked water, liked being hydrated, thinking straight.

He giggled to himself. “Never thinking straight,” he said quietly.

He heard Steve laugh, but didn’t question it. He wasn’t questioning anything anymore except how he was gonna stand up and get to where the water was.

Maybe he could make it to the shower and just sit on the floor and tilt his head back, open his mouth and-

“You don’t seem like the type to not be able to handle your liquor,” Steve’s arm was wrapped around his waist and they were walking. When had he even gotten up? “At least for as little as you’ve had compared to Nancy. I’m convinced she’s hiding her shots somewhere. She’s had at least seven.”

“Nancy’s prettier than me.”

Steve froze for only a second before continuing their journey to water.

“I don’t think so,” he finally replied.

Eddie shook his head, which was a terrible idea.

“She would make pretty babies with you.”

Steve snorted. “I don’t wanna have pretty babies with her.”

“You don’t wanna make pretty babies with me,” Eddie pouted.

He stopped short, nearly tripping over his own feet. Why did he say that?

Steve was staring a hole into the side of his face.

“Who said I don’t?”

“I mean. You. And I-“ Eddie sighed. “This liquor is something else.”

“So are you, Eds.”

Eddie drank a glass of water while Steve watched. He was tucked into Steve’s bed to sleep it off.

And in the morning, when he woke up with Steve’s leg over his, he thought maybe he was still drunk.

At least until Steve opened his eyes and smiled at him.

“You’re a pretty drunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, but even prettier right now.”

[madamechrissy]

hey baby!! currently in war with my PMS so can i req something sweet (and smutty if u wanna, teehee) w/ toji or even sukuna idmmm <3 ILY. take ur time too

(sorry i feel like im living in ur inbox lately)

Hello baby ILY more- ugh PMS is the WORST!

Here's a lil drabble of Toji x reader on her period- sfw mostly just suggestive <3

"Doll, which tampons?" Toji asks on the phone, stuck in an aisle full on confusing ass feminine products, far too loudly, you're curled up in a ball, holding your stomach and sighing.

"Just... ugh, Tampax?"

"What flow or whatever- heavy? Super? Plus?"

"Just any... variety pack?"

"Fuck okay... what else?" He grumbles, throwing several packs in the cart, as he does not want to do this again.

"Chocolate please?"

"Well no shit, figured that - what chocolate, the fancy shit?"

"Please!"

"Maybe the great value-"

"Toji, please, Ghiradelli. I'll make it up to you." Suggestive tones always work on your husband, his cock twitches at the mere thought of your mouth.

"Fine, fine... and ibuprofen?"

"You're the best husband, yes." He's soon home with everything you need, and sees you curled up in a ball, sighing, he hates you in pain. Grabbing two ibuprofen and water he sits next to you, brushing your hair back, tender for such a big gruff man, stirring you awake.

"Got all your offerings, little demon." You giggle a bit, sitting up now, swallowing the meds and then the water, as he bombards you with several fancy chocolates.

"Have I mentioned I love you?" You ask, and he scoffs just a bit, while you're brushing fingers through his inky locks, pressing a kiss on his scarred lip, while he wraps a strong arm around you, you peel open a wrapper and moan, eyes rolling back just a bit.

"Ya gotta look that excited?" He demands, as you lick your lips, his hand brushing under sensitive breasts. "Acting like you're gonna cum from it?"

"Gonna make you jealous?" You tease, licking at the corner of your lip again, when he moans, pressing you down onto your back, spreading your thighs as he sinks between them, kissing you and lapping up the chocolate from your tongue. "Mmm, Toji..."

"Know what's good for cramps?" He murmurs, earning your blush while his big hand presses on your tummy, easing your cramps just b by the warmth.

He presses down your top, kissing your breasts, making you gasp. "A bubble bath-"

"Dick."

"Toji!"

AHA lmaoo I feel Toji would do this. I love you mootie hope you're feeling better!