#manage small law firm

[casefoxinc]

This blog explains the challenges small-sized law firms face during their growth-cycle. The blog lists down challenges of a law firm including cost control, industry competition, work-life balance, professional development, legal tech, and more.

[practice42]

Small Law Firm Management

With Practice42, managing your small law firm has never been easier. Our expert-designed management tools help you stay organized, maintain client satisfaction, and ensure that every aspect of your firm runs smoothly.

[doxandboxgurugram]

Digital Transformation In Law Firms: Document Management Solutions

The legal industry has long been associated with its reliance on paper-based documentation, resulting in law firms being overwhelmed by an abundance of paperwork. However, the emergence of digitisation has prompted law firms to recognise the advantages of embracing technology in order to streamline their operations and enhance overall efficiency. One of the most notable benefits of digitisation for law firms document management is the ability to electronically scan and store legal documents. By converting paper-based documents into a digital format, law firms can easily access and search for specific documents. This not only saves time and effort but also minimises the risk of misplacing important documents.

In addition, cloud storage plays a crucial role in the digitisation process for law firms. By securely storing legal documents in the cloud, law firms can access them from anywhere and at any time. This means that lawyers can retrieve important documents whether they are in the office, at home, or even on the move, thereby enhancing their overall productivity and efficiency. Furthermore, professional digitisation services are gaining popularity among law firms. These services offer the necessary expertise and resources to swiftly and effectively digitise legal documents. By utilising professional digitisation services, law firms can streamline their operations, reduce costs, and improve overall efficiency.

Need For Digitalisation In This System

Digitisation services are essential for law firms as they involve the conversion of paper documents, legal records, and information into digital formats. This transformation brings numerous benefits, including improved document access, enhanced data security, reduced physical storage needs, and collaboration and remote work capabilities. Firstly, digitising legal document management for small law firms enables instant access to critical information, which streamlines the work of lawyers, paralegals, and staff. With just a few clicks, they can retrieve files and access the necessary information.

Secondly, digital documents can be encrypted and protected with access controls, reducing the risk of data breaches or unauthorised access. This feature also simplifies data backup processes, ensuring that important information is always secure. Thirdly, law firms often have extensive paper document archives, which can be costly and cumbersome to store physically. Digitisation reduces the need for physical storage space, freeing up valuable office space and reducing costs. Lastly, digital documents facilitate remote work and collaboration, which is important in today’s legal landscape. Lawyers can work from anywhere with secure access to case files, making it easier to collaborate with colleagues and clients.

Dox and Box offer secure vaults and cloud storage systems to safeguard your law firm’s data. Your data is encrypted both at rest and in transit, ensuring that it remains inaccessible to unauthorized users. With Dox and Box, you can set detailed permissions for your documents, ensuring that only authorized users can access them. The platform also provides detailed audit logs for all law firms document management systems, allowing you to track who accessed your documents and when. Dox and Box also boast strong disaster recovery capabilities, ensuring that your data remains protected even in the face of extreme conditions. If you’re looking for a secure and reliable way to store and access your law firm’s documents, Dox and Box is an excellent choice.

Source: https://doxandbox.livepositively.com/digital-transformation-in-law-firms-document-management-solutions/

[advantageattorney]

With our review and reputation management services, you can control the reviews of your legal business and enhance your lawyer's reputation. For more information contact our experienced attorney marketing specialists at 888-576-9392.

[gootarts]

as of 8/3, the most recently updated version of this post is here (it's a reblog of this exact post with more info added)

as a lot of you know, limbus company recently fired its CG illustrator for being a feminist, at 11 pm, via phone call, after a bunch of misogynists walked into the office earlier that day and demanded she be fired. on top of this, as per korean fans, her firing went against labor laws---in korea, you must have your dismissal in writing.

the korean fandom on twitter is, understandably, going scorched earth on project moon due to this. there's a lot currently going on to protest the decision, so i'm posting a list here of what's going on for those who want to limit their time on elon musk's $44 billion midlife crisis impulse purchase website (if you are on twitter, domuk is a good person to follow, as they translate important updates to english). a lot of the links are in korean, but generally they play nicely with machine translators. this should be current as of 8/2.

Statements condemning the decision have been issued by The Gyeonggi Youth Union and IT Union.

A press conference at the Gyeonggido Assembly will occur on 8/3, with lawmakers of the Gyeonggi province (where Project Moon is based) in attendance. This appears driven by the leader of the Gyeonggi Youth Union.

The vice chairman of the IT union--who has a good amount of experience with labor negotiations like these--has expressed strong support for the artist and is working to get media coverage due to the ongoing feminist witch hunts in the gaming industry. Project Moon isn't union to my knowledge, but he's noted that he's taken on nonunion companies such as Netmarble (largest mobile game dev in South Korea) by getting the issue in front of the National Assembly (Korea's congress).

Articles on the incident published in The Daily Labor News, Korean Daily, multiple articles on Hankyoreh (one of which made it to the print edition), and other news outlets.

Segments about the termination on the MBN 7 o' clock news and MBC's morning news

Comments by Youth Union leaders about looking into a loan made to Project Moon via Devsisters Ventures, a venture capital firm. Tax money from Gyeonggi province was invested in Devsisters in 2017, and in 2021, Devsisters gave money to Project Moon. The Gyeonggi Youth Union is asking why hard-earned tax money was indirectly given to a company who violates ESG (environmental, social and governance) principles.

Almost nonstop signage truck protests outside Project Moon's physical office during business hours until 8/22 or the company makes a statement. This occurs alongside a coordinated hashtag campaign to get the issue trending on Twitter in Korea. The signage campaign was crowd-funded in about 3 hours.

A full boycott of the Limbus Company app, on both mobile and PC (steam) platforms. Overseas fans are highly encouraged to participate, regardless if whether they're F2P or not. Not opening the app at all is arguably the biggest thing any one person can do to protest the decision, as the app logs the number of accounts that log on daily. For a new gacha such as Limbus, a high number of F2P daily active users, but a small number of paying users is often preferable to having a smaller userbase but more paying users. If the company sees the number of daily users remain stable, they will likely decide to wait out any backlash rather than apologize.

Digging up verified reviews from previous employees regarding the company's poor management practices

Due to the firing, the Leviathan artist has posted about poor working conditions when making the story. As per a bilingual speaker, they were working on a storyboard revision, and thought 'if I ran into the street right now and got hit by a car and died, I wouldn't have to keep working.' They contacted Project Moon because they didn't want their work to be like that, and proposed changes to serialization/reduction in amount of work per picture/to build up a buffer of finished images (they did not have any buffer while working on Leviathan to my knowledge). They were shut out, and had to suck it up and accept the situation.

Hamhampangpang has a 'shrine' section of the restaurant for fans to leave fan-created merch and other items. They also allow the fans to take this merch back if they can prove it's theirs. Fans are now doing just that.

To boost all of the above, a large number of Korean fanartists with thousands of followers have deleted their works and/or converted their accounts from fanart accounts to accounts supporting the protests. Many of them are bilingual, and they're where I got the majority of this information.

[note 1: there's a targeted english-language disinformation campaign by the website that started the hate mob. i have read the artist's tweets with machine translation, and they're talked about in the second hankyoreh article linked above: nowhere does she express any transphobic or similarly awful beliefs. likewise, be wary of any claims that she supported anything whose description makes you raise eyebrows--those claims are likely in reference to megalia, a korean feminist movement. for information on that, i'd recommend the NPR/BBC articles below and this google drive link of english-language scholarly papers on them. for the love of god don't get your information about a feminist movement from guys going on witch hunts for feminists.]

[note 2: i've seen a couple people argue that the firing was for the physical safety of the employees, citing the kyoani incident in japan. as per this korean fan, most fans there strongly do not believe this was the case. we have english-translated transcripts of the meeting between the mob and project moon; the threats the mob was making were to......brand project moon as a feminist company online. yes, really. male korean gamers aren't normal about feminism, and there's been an ongoing witch hunt for feminists in the industry since about 2016, something you see noted in both the labor union statements. both NPR and the BBC this phenomenon to gamergate, and i'd say it's a pretty apt comparison.]

let me know if anything needs correction or if anything should be added.

[chxncinth]

Sugar and Spice

pairing: jealous dom bf!jeno x fem!reader

plot: you never would have thought that an innocent evening out to your favorite restaurant in the city would lead to your boyfriend punching the living daylights out of a man and then driving back home to fuck you to edge of your wits, but here we are.

genre: angst, fluff, smut (MDNI!!!)

warnings: p in v, vibrators, oral (m. receiving), no protection (wrap it before you tap it!), choking, slight manhandling, mirror sex, bondage, breeding kink, creampie, facial, overstimulation, squirting, daddy kink, nicknames

wc: 2.6k

notes: yeah… idk what happened here but i’m back!

With a hint of a smile playing on his lips and a hand on the small of your back, Jeno led you to your usual table in the corner of the restaurant.

You took your seat in the chair he pulled out for you, thanking him softly. He sat down across from you and took your hand that was resting on top of the table, running the pad of his thumb across the back.

A relaxing dinner was just what needed now, especially after a long day at your work. Good for you that you just so happened to have a boyfriend who was always lucky. Jeno had called the restaurant just 15 minutes before you two started the drive downtown and somehow managed to secure your table even on a busy Friday night. You have no clue how he did it but you definitely weren’t complaining.

A waiter came to your table and the two of you ordered a bottle of red wine along with some canapés to start off while you continued to browse through the main courses. 

The light orchestra music in the background was the perfect accompaniment to your conversation about your week. Just as you were beginning to talk about how one of the partners at your law firm had received a DUI case and had pushed you to take care of it despite the hefty pile of cases on your desk, a man came over to your table.

“Hi,” he said, ignoring Jeno and only looking at you. A sleazy smile took over the stranger’s face. “I saw you walk in from the other side of the restaurant and couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you look. If you want, I can definitely show you a better night than this guy.” He finally addressed a seething Jeno with a slight tilt of his neck. 

Jeno abruptly stood up, facing the man. “Hi. You must be blind because I’m the one she’s here with, not you. So do us all a favor and get your tiny dicked self back over to your own table. She’s not interested.”

You were simply amused at that point, enjoying how jealous Jeno got over you. He was usually so put-together and polite that seeing this side of him every so-often had detrimental effects on your body— you could already feel the heat building down there.

The stranger scoffed and eyed your boyfriend up and down. “Man, who the fuck are you talking about? The lady can speak for herself.”

You dryly looked up at him and tilted your head. “The lady says you’re too ugly,” you said and then scanned his body, zeroing in on his crotch. “And too small.”

The man’s eyes flared with anger and he took a step toward you, hand raised and open, ready to slap you. “You bitch—!” 

You flinched but he was promptly cut off by Jeno landing a punch to the side of his face. Your eyes widened and after a moment of stunned silence you finally stood up to hold onto Jeno to make sure the situation didn’t escalate anymore. The man stumbled slightly and groaned but before he could do or say anything else, Jeno grabbed your belongings and dragged you out of the restaurant to your car. 

The two of you got in and you immediately turned to him to make sure he was ok. Aside from a small cut and swelling on his knuckles, he seemed to be fine. You became surprised when he suddenly pulled his hand away from yours and started driving back to your house. His face was stony and his fist was closed so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. 

“Baby—“

“Not now.”

You took the hint and remained quiet for the rest of your drive, staring down at your hands that were still slightly trembling after the events. You had been scared even though you knew Jeno would never let anyone hurt you.

When you arrived home and walked inside, ready to grab a quick snack and put the night behind you, Jeno grabbed your arm and dragged you into your bedroom. He closed the door behind the two of you, pushing you down onto the bed with one hand and pulling off his tie to throw it onto the ground with his other. He stood in front of you and unbuttoned his shirt halfway before he let out a sigh, running his fingers through his hair in anger.

“Fuck baby, I’m still so mad… can’t believe he tried to fucking hit you,” Jeno said, leaning down and pulling you in by the back of your neck so that your lips could meet in a bruising kiss. “You’re mine and only mine. No one else’s, isn’t that right?”

You whimpered softly and nodded, hand moving up to tangle into his hair as his own moved down your body and spread your legs open to rub you over your panties. 

“Didn’t even get to try these out tonight, huh?” He said, talking about your panties. They were special— vibrating ones— that Jeno had gotten for you and the two of you had a plan to try them out tonight only for it to be ruined. “That’s fine, we can try them out now.”

Your eyes widened as he stepped backwards and opened your locked drawer to pull out some rope. 

“Jeno, please—“

“Strip for me princess. Quickly.”

You decided to not go against his orders tonight, your brain too tired to deal with his usual punishments. You pulled the dress and lacy bra you were wearing up and over your head and threw the both of them onto the ground. Jeno smirked in satisfaction at your compliance and moved towards you, taking your arms and tying them together tightly behind you. 

He then grabbed the remote from his pocket and clicked down on it once. The sudden vibrations had you gasping, body shaking at the intensity. 

“God, I would’ve given anything to see you like this at the restaurant. Eating your food and sipping on your wine while trying so hard to act like you weren’t on the verge of cumming for me. Lay down for me baby.”

You took a deep breath and laid down on your back, staring as your devilishly handsome boyfriend took a step towards you, unbuckling his belt. You moaned softly and closed your eyes, the vibrations from your panties leaving you right on the edge of your orgasm, but not enough to tip you over. 

“Come on baby, cum for me. Then I’ll let you have whatever you want.” Jeno outstretched his hand and slowly trailed his fingers from your stomach up— chest, collarbones, neck, chin— he left a burning sensation along your skin and you couldn’t help but moan louder, begging for more of anything he was willing to give you. He smiled in response, enjoying effect he had on you. Jeno leaned down to nip your neck, alternating between small licks and bites, just the way you liked it. Suddenly you were hurtling towards your climax, gasping at the intense feeling. You came for him just as he captured your lips in a kiss, your broken moans of pleasure being swallowed up by him greedily. He wanted it all. 

You smiled dazedly once you came down from your high and then looked at your boyfriend to see that he was still clothed. The intense feeling of want rushed back to you. “Jeno, please… need your cock.”

Jeno grinned as he fiddled with the zipper of his pants, pulling them down along with his boxers so that his cock sprung up and slapped against his abs. He was extremely hard, the veins along his cock so prominent that you were salivating just at the thought of him being inside of you eventually. You sat up slightly and leaned forward to let a glob of spit fall onto his cockhead. Jeno groaned and grabbed your hair in his fist to pull you further forward. 

“Fuck baby, is my good girl gonna suck me off? You just came for me and now you’re gonna let me take your throat?” he said, tilting his head back with a smirk as he watched how desperate you were for him. He loved this, the control he had on you in the bedroom, the way you would let him do anything to you because you knew it would lead to mind-numbing pleasure. 

You nodded brokenly as you stuck your tongue out, the muscle tracing along his veins and then eventually closing your mouth around him. He grabbed onto your hair and pulled your head towards him, his cock pushing further into your mouth. You tried to relax to take him in deeper and tried your best not to gag. 

“God, all of your holes are so wet and tight princess,” he grunted out while he used his hand that was fisted in your hair to continue to move your mouth along his dick. “All for me. Gonna cum on your pretty little face and then you’ll lick it up, won’t ya?”

You moaned and bobbed your head up and down in a nod, desperately fighting against the ropes that restrained your hands. Jeno used you as much as he wanted, thrusting in and out of your mouth. The mental image of all of his cum painted on your face was enough to push him to the edge and he pulled you off his cock as he started to use his hand to cum. 

“Gonna cum for you baby, don’t waste it yeah?” 

You hummed and closed your eyes as you opened your mouth. Jeno groaned as he came, strings of his cum falling all over your face, some of it even landing in your hair and on your tits. You swallowed what landed in your mouth and grinned dopily at him when your tongue flicked out to lap up some drops.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” you say, eyelashes fluttering up at him. Jeno grins and moves to take off the ropes around your wrists amused with how much you needed him. You immediately pull off your soiled panties and toss them to the side. 

“Is one orgasm not enough for you Y/N?” he asks as he pushes you to lay down on the bed. He crawls towards you and fists his cock slightly— he was hard again. 

“When has one ever been enough for me? Wanna take your cock and cum all over it,” you gasp slightly as he lines himself up with your sopping wet entrance and pushes in slowly, the stretch from just the tip burning in the most delicious way possible. 

Jeno smirks and leans down to whisper in your ear as he bottoms out, barely giving you a chance to adjust before he’s pulling out and pushing in again. “I’ll let you do that and I’ll give you all of my cum as well. Gonna get you nice an’ round an’ full of me, how’s that sound princess?”

There’s no way you can respond to him because Jeno starts fucking into you at what could only be described as an animalistic pace. The headboard hits the wall loudly with each thrust and your nails are scratching all over his back, trying to hold on for dear life. Jeno growls and pushes your legs up move next to his ears. He loved fucking you in a mating press, the position letting him fuck you as deep as possible. Jeno grunted as your hand trailed down to touch your chest, pinching and pulling on your nipples for extra stimulation. 

“Fuck baby, you look perfect for me like this,” Jeno groaned at the sight of you. Your makeup was completely ruined from a mixture of his cum and your tears and your mascara left black tracks along your cheeks. Your lips were parted in a perfect ‘O’ as Jeno repeatedly fucked into you deeper, his balls slapping against your ass. 

Jeno suddenly pulled out from you, causing you to clench around nothing and whimper at the loss. He pulled you up and carried you over to the dressing table, flipping you over so that you were lying on the surface and could see yourself in the mirror. 

“Needed ya’ to see how perfect you look for me,” Jeno said as he pushed back inside of you and continued fucking into you as if he never stopped. Your head started to droop down, but Jeno didn’t let it, his hand coming up to close around your neck and keep your head up. “Nuh-uh baby, gotta keep lookin’ at yourself. Keep lookin’ at me fuck you.”

You let out a scream at a particularly hard thrust. It made you see stars, head dizzy from the amount of pleasure you were being given in such a short amount of time. “Ngh, Jeno baby… please!”

“Please what princess? Wanna cum already?” His hand around your neck tightened slightly, cutting off some of your oxygen supply and making you feel even more lightheaded in the best way possible. All of your senses became heightened and you nodded frantically as you felt that familiar ball of tension in your lower stomach grow tighter and tighter with each thrust. 

“Alright baby, you’ve been so good all day. Cum for me.”

You screamed as you came, your orgasm being one of the most intense ones you’d ever had in your life. Jeno fucked you through it and groaned as you continued to twitch and unconsciously clench tighter around him. You looked down to see that you hadn’t just came around him, but you had squirted everywhere. Now it made sense why that orgasm was more earth-shattering than usual. 

“God, Y/N, you make it so hard to stop fucking you,” Jeno said as he kept thrusting into you, letting go of his grip around your neck in order to grab your hips and piston himself in and out of you. You let out a combination of screams and moans at how overstimulated you were but Jeno didn’t stop his thrusts. He was determined to cum in you. You let your head drop down onto the surface of the dressing table, mouth falling open and drooling as your moans never stopped.

“Mm, Daddy, gon’ cum again!” Your noises fell in line with Jeno’s as his thrusts got sloppier and sloppier. His hand sneaked around your body and he started to rub your swollen clit in time with each thrust. 

“I’m cumming with you baby. Gonna paint your pretty pussy walls white with my cum,” Jeno grunted into your ear as the two of you fell apart again. His cum shot into you as you gripped around him impossibly tighter. 

As you came down from your highs, your eyes drooped and Jeno carried you over to the bed, still in you. He pulled out when he laid you down on the bed, watching the mixture of both of your cum drip out of your puffy pussy. He scooped it up with his fingers and gently pushed it back in, fucking it in slightly while he looked up at you.  

“Don’t let a drop go to waste, yeah? I told you I was gonna get you all pregnant for me and I can’t wait baby.”

You giggled softly and with the little energy you had left in you, your hand moved up to comb through your boyfriend’s hair. “I can’t wait either.”

Jeno grinned, grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

He stood up and walked into your bathroom to grab a towel that he wet in the sink. He came back and started to wipe your body down, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to move any more. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up and then we can sleep, ok?”

You nodded, a smile on your lips as your eyes gradually fluttered shut, feelings of warmth and happiness floating around in the air.

[mariacallous]

lol philadelphia inquirer bodying nyt

https://www.inquirer.com/opinion/editorials/first-presidential-debate-joe-biden-donald-trump-withdraw-20240629.html

President Joe Biden’s debate performance was a disaster. His disjointed responses and dazed look sparked calls for him to drop out of the presidential race.

But lost in the hand wringing was Donald Trump’s usual bombastic litany of lies, hyperbole, bigotry, ignorance, and fear mongering. His performance demonstrated once again that he is a danger to democracy and unfit for office.

In fact, the debate about the debate is misplaced. The only person who should withdraw from the race is Trump.

Trump, 78, has been on the political stage for eight years marked by chaos, corruption, and incivility. Why go back to that?

To build himself up, Trump constantly tears the country down. There is no shining city on the hill. It’s just mourning in America.

Throughout the debate, Trump repeatedly said we are a “failing” country. He called the United States a “third world nation.” He said, “we’re living in hell” and “very close to World War III.”

“People are dying all over the place,” Trump said, later adding “we’re literally an uncivilized country now.”

Trump told more than 30 lies during the debate to go with the more than 30,000 mistruths told during his four years as president. He dodged the CNN moderators’ questions, took no responsibility for his actions, and blamed others, mainly Biden, for everything that is wrong in the world.

Trump’s response to the Jan. 6, 2021, insurrection he fueled was farcical. He said a “relatively small number of people” went to the Capitol and many were “ushered in by the police.”

After scheming to overturn the 2020 election, Trump refused to say if he would accept the results of the 2024 election. Unless, of course, he wins.

The debate served as a reminder of what another four years of Trump would look like. More lies, grievance, narcissism, and hate. Supporters say they like Trump because he says whatever he thinks. But he mainly spews raw sewage.

Trump attacks the military. He denigrates the Justice Department and judges. He belittles the FBI and the CIA. He picks fights with allies and cozies up to dictators.

Trump is an unserious carnival barker running for the most serious job in the world. During his last term, Trump served himself and not the American people.

Trump spent chunks of time watching TV, tweeting, and hanging out at his country clubs. Over his four-year term, Trump played roughly 261 rounds of golf.

As president, Trump didn’t read the daily intelligence briefs. He continued to use his personal cell phone, allowing Chinese spies to listen to his calls. During one Oval Office meeting, Trump shared highly classified intelligence with the Russian foreign minister and ambassador.

Trump’s term did plenty of damage and had few accomplishments. The much-hyped wall didn’t get built. Infrastructure week was a recurring joke. Giant tax cuts made the rich richer, while fueling massive deficits for others to pay for years. His support for coal, oil drilling and withdrawal from the Paris Agreement worsened the growing impact of climate change.

Trump stacked the judiciary with extreme judges consisting mainly of white males, including a number who the American Bar Association rated as not qualified. A record number of cabinet officials were fired or left the office. The West Wing was in constant chaos and infighting.

Many Trump appointees exited under a cloud of corruption, grifting and ethical scandals. Trump’s children made millions off the White House. His dilettante son-in-law got $2 billion from the Saudi government for his fledgling investment firm even though he never managed money before.

Trump’s mismanagement of the pandemic resulted in tens of thousands of needless deaths. He boasts about stacking the Supreme Court with extreme right-wingers who are stripping away individual rights, upending legal precedents, and making the country less safe. If elected, Trump may add to the court’s conservative majority.

Of course, there were the unprecedented two impeachments. Now, Trump is a convicted felon who is staring at three more criminal indictments. He is running for president to stay out of prison.

If anything, Trump doesn’t deserve to be on the presidential debate stage. Why even give him a platform?

Trump allegedly stole classified information and tried to overturn an election. His plans for a second term are worse than the last one. We cannot be serious about letting such a crooked clown back in the White House.

Yes, Biden had a horrible night. He’s 81 and not as sharp as he used to be. But Biden on his worst day remains lightyears better than Trump on his best.

Biden must show that he is up to the job. This much is clear: He has a substantive record of real accomplishments, fighting the pandemic, combating climate change, investing in infrastructure, and supporting working families and the most vulnerable.

Biden has surrounded himself with experienced people who take public service seriously. He has passed major bipartisan legislation despite a dysfunctional Republican House majority.

Biden believes in the best of America. He has rebuilt relationships with allies around the world and stood up to foes like Russia and China.

There was only one person at the debate who does not deserve to be running for president. The sooner Trump exits the stage, the better off the country will be.

[reasonsforhope]

We’ve just taken a major step toward cleaning up space junk.

On Monday, October 2, the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) in the US issued its first fine for space debris, ordering the US TV provider Dish to pay $150,000 for failing to move one of its satellites into a safe orbit. 

“It is definitely a very big symbolic moment for debris mitigation,” says Michelle Hanlon, a space lawyer at the University of Mississippi. “It’s a great step in the right direction.”

But it might be more than just a symbolic gesture by the FCC. Not only does it set a precedent for tackling bad actors who leave dangerous junk orbiting Earth, but it could send shock waves through the industry as other satellite operators become wary of having their reputation tarnished. While the $150,000 FCC fine was modest, Dish’s share price fell by nearly 4% immediately following its announcement, pushing the company’s $3 billion valuation down about $100 million.

The FCC’s action could also help breathe new life into the still-small market for commercial removal of space debris, essentially setting a price—$150,000—for companies such as Astroscale in Japan and ClearSpace in Switzerland to aim for in providing services that use smaller spacecraft to sidle up to dead satellites or rockets and pull them back into the atmosphere...

Another hope is that the FCC’s fine will encourage other countries to follow suit with their own enforcement actions on space junk. “It sends a message out of America taking leadership in this area,” says Newman. “This is starting the ball rolling.”

Today there are more than 8,000 active satellites, nearly 2,000 dead satellites, and hundreds of empty rockets orbiting Earth. Managing these objects and preventing collisions is a huge task, and one that is becoming increasingly difficult as the number of satellites grows rapidly. The worsening situation is largely due to mega-constellations of hundreds or thousands of satellites from companies like SpaceX and Amazon, designed to beam the internet to any corner of the globe...

Hanlon says there are further measures that could be taken to discourage companies from failing to dispose of satellites properly. “Honestly, I would love to see that if you don’t meet your license requirements, you’re banned from launching for a number of years,” she says. “If you’re driving under the influence you can have your license revoked. These are the kinds of measures we need to see.”

Chris Johnson, a space law advisor at the Secure World Foundation in the US, says the loss of reputation for Dish about the satellite situation might be worse than any fine it could have received. “They promised to remove it and they didn’t,” he says. “It’s like the first operator of a car to get a speeding ticket.”

The fall in the company’s share price appears to be indicative of that reputational damage. The fine may not have been as severe as it could have been, but the FCC’s actions can be seen as a warning to other companies to tackle space junk. “This is going to be on their record and their reputation,” says Johnson. “It’s not trivial.”

-via MIT Technology Review, October 5, 2023

Always nice to see steps taken to tackle a problem BEFORE it causes incredibly massive issues

[togrowoldinv]

Best Closers In The City

Lawyer!Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

You are an associate to some of the most successful attorneys in the city. You’re invited to a special dinner with the partners. What happens when one of them asks you to be her mentee?

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, very muscular Natasha, degrading, overstimulation (sorta), strap on sex, oral (N receiving)

Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 1, Natasha Romanoff Masterlist 2, Main Masterlist

When you got the job at Romanoff Danvers & Maximoff, you had no idea what to expect. Everyone said it would mean working over 40 hours a week without much praise, but you didn’t care.

You wanted to work for the best law firm in New York City.

You met Danvers, Carol, first. She is alluring, no doubt about that, but she is also brilliant. The woman has a reputation for cleaning up messes quickly and keeping the city safe.

You met Wanda Maximoff second. She oversees the associates, so you see a lot of her. She has the kindest smile you’ve ever seen. Despite being one tough litigator, she is genuinely kind and always asks you how you are doing. Not in a way to make small talk, but like she truly wants to know.

And that leaves Natasha Romanoff. You have seen her around the office, usually early in the morning or late at night, but you haven’t spoken to the woman. There is a sense around the firm that you don’t speak to Natasha unless you’ve made partner or she speaks to you first.

But you really want to talk to her. She is the managing partner, something you long to be one day. Plus, she is gorgeous. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about her in a slightly less than appropriate capacity.

Sometimes she would leave the office with a man or woman waiting for her outside. It was never the same person twice. You wondered what it was like to be them.

When you get to work today, Wanda waltzes into the bullpen with a notepad in hand. She prefers not to use technology.

“Good morning! As you all know, tonight is the annual partner dinner. Carol, Natasha, and I have been observing you all for a while now, so we would like to formally offer the following list of you an invite to the dinner,” Wanda announces.

She is met with chatters of excitement from all of you young, aspiring attorneys. None of you knew when this day was going to come, but here it is. Your chance for a seat at the table.

“I know, I know, it’s very exciting,” Wanda says, a chuckle escaping her lips. “Now here are the associates that will be joining us. Peter Parker, Kate Bishop, and Y/n y/ln.”

You fight the urge to stand up and do a happy dance. Instead, you share a smile with your fellow invitees and accept congratulations from others.

“See you all at 8!” Wanda says. She leaves the bullpen.

“I wonder which one of them picked which of us,” Peter says once the woman is out of sight.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Each partner picks an associate. At least that’s what Mr. Stark told me,” he explains.

“Oh, I hope Natasha picked me,” Kate comments. You all laugh.

“Natasha doesn’t speak to any of us, and Carol doesn’t either for that matter. I bet Wanda picked all of us,” you reason.

“Just wait and see where we are placed to sit tonight,” Peter says. “I bet I’m right.”

You forget about the dinner mostly as you dive into your work for the day. But what Peter said does linger in your mind as you gather your bag before walking to the car that is taking you all to dinner.

You figured dinner would be at some restaurant, but the car arrives at a house. A huge one with glorious architecture. There are lions on either side of the entrance. A dark wooden door is up the stairs.

“Holy shit,” Kate speaks for the group as you walk to the door together.

Peter rings the doorbell and the door opens almost simultaneously. Carol is on the other side, a glass of wine in her hand.

“Hello! Come on in,” Carol greets the three of you.

“This is a very nice home you have here, ma’am,” you say.

“Oh, I wish I could take credit for this place. It’s Natasha’s,” Carol explains. “Follow me and we’ll go into the dining room.”

You follow the blonde. Your eyes wander around the house as you admire how perfectly put together the house is. There are very few personal decorations, but there are so many objects that you can imagine have meaning to Natasha.

When you enter the dining room, there are place cards at the table. One for each of you. You sit in your assigned seats and Carol scurries off to the other room to gather her fellow partners.

They file in one by one. Carol sits across from Kate, offering her a smile. Wanda sits across from Peter. And that leaves the seat across from you open. If Peter was right, then that means Natasha chose you.

She is last one to walk in. She sits in the chair across from you and looks up at you through her eyelashes. The woman is even more beautiful up close. Her red hair cascades over her suit lapels and her green eyes shine in the dining room lights. You wonder what that jacket is hiding.

You are admiring her when Wanda begins speaking, “Thank you all for joining us tonight for this very special dinner. And thank you to Natasha for graciously letting us have the dinner at her beautiful home.”

Natasha offers Wanda a nod and a soft smile. One of which Wanda happily returns.

“It’s truly a unique and sought after experience, so I do hope the three of you leave tonight with more knowledge about your chosen career. We picked you from the fine cloth of other associates,” Carol explains.

She looks to Natasha to continue the spiel. You all watch her intently and wait for her to begin.

“Yes, as Carol and Wanda said we invited you three here for a reason,” Natasha says. Her voice is velvety just as you hoped it would be. “It should also be noted that while we all are going to speak to each other tonight, there is also another element to the dinner.”

Subtle glances are shared between you, Kate, and Peter.

“We have decided to improve the tradition and give you each full access to us. You’re sitting from across from the partner that has chosen you to be their mentee, if you so choose to agree,” Natasha explains. She looks you directly in the eye as she says her next words. “And you will agree.”

There is a certain harshness to her tone that you don’t know if it turns you on or scares you deeply. You think it’s both.

Soon, the food is served and the group talks intently. Things about the firm come up, but you find that the women don’t only want to talk business. You see the way Natasha does not offer as much personal information as the others, but she throws in a couple of comments here and there.

After dessert, you are practically itching to ask when you get to learn more about the mentor and mentee relationships. Carol puts you out of your misery when she announces that that part of the night begins now.

“We’ll go to my study,” Natasha says to you. She stands up from the table and leads the way. You can’t help but notice the way her pants hug her backside.

When you enter the room, she closes the door behind you. You take a look around. The walls are lined with bookshelves except for one area where there is a stained-glass window. Pink roses are painted with a landscape of green around them.

Natasha notices you admiring it. “It’s one of a kind,” she says.

“It’s beautiful,” you comment.

“Thank you,” she says. She walks to her desk and gestures for you to sit in the chair on the other side.

You sit, but she remains standing as she takes the suit jacket off. You notice the way the buttons strain against her chest, and her arms are noticeably toned even through the mid length sleeves she is wearing.

“You might want to stop staring,” Natasha says, pulling you out of your trance.

“I’m sorry,” you rush out the apology.

“Mhm,” she hums. You can’t read her, so you don’t know if she was flattered or upset by your stares. Your nerves are at a high. “So, y/n, what are your career goals?”

“I want to- um- well- I want to make partner one day,” you say.

“That sounds reasonable,” Natasha remarks. She stands up from her desk and walks around to your side. Her hands grip the desk and she leans against it. Once again, your eyes rake over the tight-fitting shirt. “Why family law?”

“It seemed like the path where I could do the most good,” you explain.

“And that’s what you want to do? Good?”

“Yes ma’am,” you say. “Why did you-”

“I’m asking the questions, y/n,” she interrupts you, standing at her full height again.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

“You’re too quick to apologize,” Natasha scolds you lightly.

You don’t know how to reply. She walks to her drink cart in the corner and pours herself a shot of what you presume is vodka and she swallows it quickly. You watch her every moment before she turns back around. You avert your gaze.

“Y/n,” Natasha says. She invades your space, her hand gripping your chin to force you to look up at her. “Do you know why I chose you to mentor?”

You try to shake your head, but her grip is too firm.

“No, I don’t,” you speak softly.

Natasha grins wickedly as she keeps her hand on you. Only she moves it to the side of your face, her fingers arching over your neck and touching the base of your hairline.

“I chose you because I think you’re intelligent. And you’re capable and hard-working,” Natasha explains. You feel your cheeks burning from the compliments. “But you’re also naïve, and you’re a bit of a pushover.”

Oh. There it is. Your eyes burn as you fight back tears, cursing yourself for being unable to handle criticism.

“I don’t tell you this to upset you, y/n,” Natasha says, her voice softening just a hair. “I can help you be better. You have the instincts. It’s just that someone needs to toughen you up.”

“Okay,” you say. “How did you- nevermind,” you remember you aren’t the one asking the questions.

“How did I what?” Natasha inclines you to continue.

“How did you even know all of this? You don’t speak to us associates.”

“Oh, I may not speak but I’m always listening,” Natasha says. “And trust me, sweetheart, I see everything.”

You shiver at her words. Everything means that she might have seen you watch her leave all of those nights. You avert your gaze, and her hand grip strengthens again.

“Tell me, y/n, have you been watching me?” She knows the answer, so she doesn’t bother waiting for you to speak. “Since you have been, maybe you would like to see more of me?”

“I- um-” you can’t formulate words.

Natasha releases you from her grasp and steps back so you can see all of her. She starts slow, unbuttoning her shirt. Each button strains and your eyes follow her movements. Her hands are deft as they move against her shirt purposefully.

When she gets to the last button, she looks you directly in the eyes and pulls the shirt away from her body. That uncovers her chest and her arms. Your eyes don’t know what part of her to look at first.

“Don’t just sit there,” Natasha says sternly.

You stand up quickly and she takes your hand. She brings it to her abs. Your other hand follows. You brush your hands over her abs, an undoubtable eight-pack, and she smirks. You move further up to her abdomen to her rib cage area and run your hands over a couple of tattoos.

Natasha didn’t seem like the type to have these, but they make her impossibly hotter. Your hands skip over her bra-covered chest and move to her biceps. The woman flexes her arms, and you feel weak in your knees.

“Do you like what you see?” Natasha asks, her voice is deeper than usual.

“I do,” you say. “Can I?”

She knows what you mean, and she reaches behind her own back to unhook her bra. The garment falls to the floor. You take one breast in your hand as you move your mouth to the other. You look up at Natasha as if asking for permission. She nods and you place your lips around her nipple.

You suck thoughtfully and lick around the perky buds, switching between breasts. Natasha makes beautiful sounds as you do so. When you kiss down her abdomen, she lets out a gasp. You fully intend to worship her entire body.

“Take off my pants, baby,” Natasha instructs you.

Your fingers work to unbutton and unzip her suit pants. Kneeling in front of her, you pull the pants down her legs. For some reason, you expected her to be wearing panties, but she is wearing black boxers. Her thighs are muscular and your urge to be between them increases when you notice the bulge in her boxers.

“Fuck Natasha,” you mumble. She lets out a chuckle.

“Did my good, sweet associate just say fuck?” She teases.

You answer by pressing kisses against the skin of her thighs that are revealed. Nat gets impatient and pushes her own boxers down her legs. All that she’s left wearing is a strap.

Natasha takes it in her own hand and directs it towards your mouth. You comply quickly and suck the cock. She moves her hips faster with every passing second, loving how you take the thick length.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” she says. “God, I’ve wanted to have you kneeling for me since the first day I saw you in the office.”

You groan at her words and continue your ministrations. That is until Natasha needs more, and she pulls you up by your shirt collar.

“Take off your pants,” she tells you. “Now.”

Nat doesn’t wait for them to reach the floor before she has you bent over her desk as she enters you from behind. It’s easy from how wet you are from the entire evening.

“You take my cock so well, baby,” she says, her mouth right next to your ear. “I know you’ve imagined this too.”

“I have,” you admit, your voice broken from the pleasure she is bringing you. She moves in and out of you, hitting you right where you need her every time. Her arms hold you tightly against her.

When Natasha places a few kisses on your neck, you whine, and her grip tightens.

“I’m gonna- fuck Nat- I’m gonna come,” you say.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” Natasha says. “Tell me how good it feels.”

You groan out a string of incoherent words as you come for Natasha. She feels the slick against her strap as she continues to take you from behind.

“Too much, Nat,” you mumble when she still hasn’t stopped her movements.

“Come on, baby, you can take one more,” Natasha says firmly. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

“Yes- fuck- yes ma’am,” you reply.

It doesn’t take long for you to come again. This time she relents and pulls out of you. Your head is fuzzy from the overstimulation, but you’ve never felt so good.

Natasha releases you from her grasp and you turn around to face her. She has an almost goofy grin on her face, and you know she is pleased with her work. But you remember she hasn’t come yet.

“May I take care of you?” You ask her, reaching for the strap again.

“I think you’ve earned it. Go ahead,” she says. Nat takes her own initiative to take the strap off of her hips.

You once again kneel in front your mentor, but this time you waste no time burying your face between her legs. You collect her wetness with your tongue and make quick work of finding her clit.

“Fucking good,” Natasha mumbles as you lick and suck. She holds onto your shoulders as you continue. It feels good to make a woman so strong feel weak in her knees.

You hum against her, and she is almost over the edge. All it takes is for you to add one finger to work in tandem with your mouth and she is coming hard against you.

After cleaning her up, you stand up to face her again.

“Come here,” she says, pulling you by your hips into her hold.

She kisses your lips slowly at first. Her tongue brushes against yours. But she picks up the pace and you’re left breathless from your first kiss with the woman.

“So, what did you think?” Natasha asks.

“I think I want to do that again,” you say, dumbstruck from the events.

“In due time, y/n. Right now we need to get dressed and say goodnight to everyone,” Natasha says.

She turns to look for her shirt and it’s then that you notice the tattoos on her back.

“Roses,” you say aloud. Your eyes glance back towards the window.

“Roses,” Natasha turns back to you and says. “You wanted to ask why I chose family law.” She puts the shirt back over her arms and back.

“I did.”

“My sister,” Natasha says. “We were separated as kids. I am still trying to find her. In the meantime, I can help other people.”

“And was she named Rose?” you ask, hoping you aren’t pushing.

“Her name is Yelena. But she loved roses, so I guess it’s my way of feeling connected to her.” You haven’t seen her speak this softly about anyone.

“That’s really beautiful, Natasha,” you say.

“Yeah,” she says. “Do you maybe want to stay for a little while after everyone leaves?”

“I’d love to,” you say, a smile on your face.

“Good because I want to snuggle,” she admits. You share a chuckle and finish getting dressed together.

You leave her study and everyone goes about their way except for you and Natasha. You stay at her house and learn everything about her. Talking all night, sharing kisses, and a couple more rounds of intense sex, you have a perfect time with her.

This isn’t what you expected out of working for Natasha Romanoff, but you will take it.

[sbdskate]

Laws Of Attraction (Epilogue 1) - DR x lawyer!fem!reader

Summary: Daniel signed with RB at the end of the 2022 season, ending your attorney-client relationship. You decide to give romance a try in the off season.

Pairing: lawyer!fem!reader x Daniel Ricciardo

Warnings (18+): fluff, language, *SMUT*: p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap)

Word Count: 2,291

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue 1

February 2023

You woke up to his breath tickling the back of your neck, which you had now grown pleasantly accustomed to over the last few months. His arm snaked over your waist with his hand lightly resting just below your breasts. Sometimes his face nuzzled into the back of your shoulder so that you could feel his stubble lightly tickle you. You treasured these soft, quiet moments that were hidden from the rest of the world.

By a miracle, your budding relationship had not yet been sniffed out by paparazzi or investigative fans, but you knew it wouldn’t last forever. The distance was hard, as expected, but ended up being more manageable than you originally thought. Of course it helped that one of you had almost unlimited resources. He ended up spending a good chunk of time at his property in Beverly Hills which at least got you in the same continent and country. You would make up excuses to work out of the LA office for a week or so and The Firm suspected nothing of it or didn’t care enough to ask why. During the day you worked on other client matters while he hung out with Scotty and other friends, allegedly figuring out plans for the next Enchante drop. At night you stayed with him, cooking dinners together, throwing small parties, watching the sun set over the hills.

When you weren’t on the West Coast, he occasionally stayed with you in your small NYC apartment in the West Villiage. At first you protested that he should stay somewhere else, that there wasn’t enough room for the both of you, and that your accommodations were far too modest for the extravagant lifestyle he had become so accustomed to. Fine, you book the hotel, he would say with a smirk knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to afford the reservation to override him. But he so desperately wanted to a glimpse into your home that you could hardly say no.

It was easier for him to explore the city in the dead of winter where he blended in with everyone else on the street, bundled in at least four layers to keep warm. With a hat and scarf covering most of his face, he went about his day with the rare freedom of being unidentified and anonymous. When you were done with work you would sneak into the diviest dive bar you could find, consisting of dark basements with dark liquor. Or you would order takeout for dinner and eat it out of the container on your couch with a beer or glass of wine.

The two of you relished these moments of normalcy. Including moments like now, in that tiny apartment, on a chilly Friday in February where you bathed in the rays of sun that began to poke through your curtains in the light of morning. He had been on Stephen Colbert the night before and you watched in awe from the comfort of your couch that the man on the screen, in a suit you picked out, would be coming home to you at the end of the program.

Your eyes fluttered open before your alarm went off, Daniel’s breath making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. You smiled to yourself, still unable to believe this was your new reality. Just to be sure, you gently grabbed the hand positioned on your upper abdomen to move it to cup your breast. Perhaps you should have let him sleep, but you couldn’t pass up the chance to have extra time with him. You felt his breath pattern change as he slowly woke from the delicate touch. The silver lining of long distance was that neither of you were lacking in libido. Granted your relationship was still in its infancy, of course you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.

He pulled you in close flush against his chest and gave your shoulder a kiss.

“Good morning,” he mumbled, voice muffled by skin. You held your hand over his, squeezing it.  

“Mmm good morning.” The crook of his nose caressed the path that followed the trails of kisses along your shoulder blade. He began to move his thumb over your sensitive nipple, feeling as it puckered under his touch. Your breath hitched as you squirmed, molding yourself into him. You partially turned your head to face him without disrupting your position. He propped himself on his elbow to meet you halfway and planted a messy kiss on your lips.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look in the morning?” You used to think he was joking, not that you could blame him if he were. There were people who were elegant sleepers, but you knew you were not one of them. Your hair almost always ended up looking like it could home a few birds or small rodent. Your eyes were puffy, slightly crusty, and every now and then there was some dried drool for good measure. Now that you had been at this for nearly two months, it was evident he was very serious each time.

“You have, but you can tell me again,” you mumbled as a smile grew on your face and stretched your limbs.

“You’re beautiful.” It came out muffled as your lips pressed together again, as his thumb continued to lazily graze your nipple.

You gently dragged his hand from your chest to the growing heat between your legs. You pressed against him again, feeling his hardened member against your ass. You smirked, satisfied with the results of your minimal efforts.

He kissed the crook of your neck as he drew tiny circles around your clit with his middle finger. You reached your arm behind you to gently scratch his head as little moans escaped your lips, breath becoming uneven with desire.

“Are you going to be late for work?” Ever the gentleman, you could tell he asked to be polite but it wasn’t actually a point of concern. You grinded into his groin in frustration.

“Not that I care at the moment, but no.” You moved his fingers even further south so he could feel your neediness. “I have twelve minutes and I don’t want to think about responsibilities until then. Do what you will with that information.”

A husky groan escaped his lips feeling how wet you were for him. His hand left you momentarily to stroke himself a few times before aligning with your entrance and you reached down to help guide him.

Two months, and it still took your breath away how full he made you feel. Your back arched into him and he caught your hips in his hand. Laced with sleep, he held on as he dragged in and out of you in deliberate, languid motions as though time didn’t exist. His hand moved slowly up your body, to your waist, over your soft stomach, the swell of your breast, where it snaked over your chest and enclosed around your throat with a gentle firmness that made your core clench. It was equally delicate and possessive. It delighted every surface of your body but his leisure pace now maddened you.

“Faster,” you choked out. He smirked as he slowed down the roll of his hips, tightening his grip around your neck. If he wasn’t awake before, he was now. Daniel was fascinated – you ordinarily enjoyed lazy morning sex but today you were extraordinarily needy for some reason. Not that he was mad at it. Your eyes twisted shut and you moaned through gritted teeth, simultaneously aroused and frustrated. “Fuck you.”  

“Happily,” he taunted. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please.” He felt your body quiver around him as you begged for more of him. He closed his eyes and prayed that he would last for the remaining six minutes.

He obliged your pleas, only letting go of your neck to lift your leg up.

Oh

Right there

His thrusts deepened with the new angle and watched excitedly as your arm moved down. He couldn’t see you playing with yourself but knew you were as your moans became louder and more frequent and he felt your walls squeeze and twitch. The image seared into his brain and he knew he was done. He inhaled the scent from your hair in his face and he wished he could see you. But you were warm and tight and wet and perfect and he couldn’t stop himself.

“Fuck, I’m-”  

“Yes”

Your hips stuttered and muscles spasmed around him. He spilled into you as his fingers sank into your skin, his vice grip unable to let go. You both laid limp for a moment, panting to catch your breath. Eventually you pulled yourself away from him to roll over.

Your hair was knotted and your flushed face was adorned with a shit-eating grin. You were stunning. Glowing.

“Good morning,” you said cheekily.

“Good morning,” he responded. He lifted his arm, inviting you to use his chest as a pillow. You did so gladly, intertwining yourselves in each other once more like vines. It was nice for all of forty-seven seconds before your alarm went off. He pulled you tighter before you could try to get up.

“Now I have to get going.” He placed a kiss at the top of your head.

“What if we just stayed in bed all day instead.” You groaned in silent agreement, but nonetheless peeled his arms off you.

“I would love to but I have to work. And so do you.” You kissed him before hopping into the shower.

Right. Daniel had almost forgotten that today was his first official day back as a Red Bull employee. His presence was requested for the livery launch set to happen in Midtown in a few hours. He laid in bed and smiled to himself as he listened to you sing I Just Had Sex by The Lonely Island.

“I still can’t believe it’s in New York,” you said casually as you poured yourself a cup of coffee. He hummed in agreement. “Suspiciously convenient, really.” You glanced at him through your peripheral to gauge his reaction. Nothing. Though he did look oddly pensive. You turned suddenly to confront him. “You’re sure you didn’t say anything to Christian?” He laughed at your skeptic accusation.

“Not a peep.”

“You swear it?” You held out your pinky.

“I swear it.” He linked his with yours.

“Kiss it,” you demanded. He rolled his eyes but obliged lowering his lips to his knuckles as you did yours, his focus on you never wavering.  

You continued getting ready, though you couldn’t shake the sense that there was an uneasy intensity to him this morning. At first you thought it might just be nerves about the livery event, but then you caught him staring at you in the mirror while you were brushing your teeth. You spit and turned around.

“Ok you’re being weird. What is it?”

“I’m not being weird!” he said defensively. You brandished your toothbrush at him threateningly.

“Yes, you are. You’ve barely said two words since we had sex.” He scoffed.

“I’ve said lots of words. That was five just now –“

“There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, you know.”

“I’m not nervous –“

“Then what is it?”

He both loved and hated that you could read him like a book. You seemed to be intuitively aware of all of his deepest thoughts - though maybe not this one. He watched as you walked into the kitchen to pack your work bag. You filled your travel mug as you patiently waited for his response. He took a deep breath before jumping into the metaphorical deep end.

“Since things are official with Red Bull as of today, I figured we should be too.”

You snorted coffee through your nose. A not-so-subtle tomato hue dusted your cheeks immediately. Yet again, you weren’t sure why you were so surprised. The man was traveling half way around the world for you. With the amount of time, effort, care, and money spent, how could you ever believe he would lull you into something as malignant as a situationship? As it was in the beginning, you were the stop-gap preventing things from progressing. He had been respectful with taking things at a glacial pace, as you kindly requested. He had given you the proof you needed that there was a way to make the relationship work when you weren’t traveling constantly together. When you considered that you had now existed in each other’s orbits for nearly five months, he really had been as patient as a saint with you.  

But he misconstrued your stunned silence as confusion, so he rephrased his proposition.

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

Your timing was impeccable as always, as you choked on your own saliva before breaking into a coughing fit. He sighed and poured you a glass of water, slightly disgruntled by your antics.

He had been putting this off. He had wanted to wait for the right time, for it to be romantic and dreamy, everything you deserved. But each time the opportunity arose he lost his nerve, and now here you both were: in your kitchen, before you had to go to work, choking on thin air, decidedly unromantic.

“I’ll take that as a no.” You shook your head ferociously before attempting to sip the liquid. He frowned “Well shit, you don’t have to be so enthusiastic about it.” You shook your head again, then nodded. “Yes, that’s right, you’re not interested?” You decided that this was the worst game of charades, ever. You shook your head again.

“Yes,” *cough* “I want,” *cough* “to be your,” *cough* “girlfriend.” Despite the fact that you were barely breathing, Daniel’s thousand-watt smile appeared before you.

“Drink your fucking water and stop coughing so I can kiss you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Please don't be a ghost reader and thank you for reading! I'm happy I've been on a roll with my posting schedule but I know the next Epilogue part will not be ready by next week, so expect a little bit of a break after this (hopefully not four months again).

And thank you @thef1diary for your help

[practice42]

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[dfortrafalgar]

Special Delivery

(Sanji x Fem!Reader)

Red-Leg Zeff wakes up to surprising visitors.

You can read Part 1 here! Original AO3 link

Days on the open ocean were long and monotonous.  It was a decent struggle to keep track of the sunrises and sunsets, but Red-Leg Zeff had developed a system, very recently at that.

Next to a parchment letter and three photographs he nailed to the wall of his captain’s quarters, he tacked up a separate piece of paper and made a tally mark for each day that passed since he received the small parcel.  Each day that went by was another day of inwardly hoping to see the image of the Thousand Sunny off the deck of the Baratie.  It was wishful thinking, and Zeff was a level-headed man, not one for futile hopes or daydreaming, but could you blame him?  He had a grandchild and a daughter-in-law, all things considered, anyway.

The three photographs that Sanji had sent in the package were what greeted him every time he awoke, and were the last images he saw behind his eyelids as he shut in for sleep.  As the days turned into weeks, and then months, and now well over a year according to his tallies, and as Zeff’s braided facial hair continued to slowly turn gray at the roots, the pictures stayed the same.

Like clockwork, Zeff rose from his stiff mattress before the sun rose in the morning, stretching his aging muscles and groaning.  He gazed off across the room at the photos hung on his wall.

“Good morning, Sa–”

“CAPTAIN ZEFF, YOU’RE NEEDED ON THE BOW.”

Patty’s booming voice outside the thin wooden door sent a startled shockwave through Zeff.  He jumped and yelped at the commotion.  Followed by the command, a pounding on the door caused the blonde man to grumble and stomp across his small cabin towards the noise.  He swung open the door, right before Patty threw his fist into the wood for the hundredth time.

“What in the fresh hell do you want?  You’re gonna wake up the whole crew, you oaf.”  Zeff rubbed two calloused fingertips against the bridge of his wrinkled nose.

Eagerly, with a light in his eyes, Patty waved a hand in the direction of the ship’s bow.  “There’s a large vessel spotted approaching from northwest, about ten miles away.  It looks like a pirate ship but we couldn’t make out the image on the sail.”

Zeff stepped into his one boot and rolled up his pants around his peg-leg, making it easier for him to walk.  He firmly gripped his chef’s cap in his hand as he marched past Patty and closed his door behind the two of them, leading him out to the front of the Baratie.  It took them a few moments to roam down the flights of stairs to the lower deck and dining hall, and upon opening the large double doors to the outer deck, he spotted his kitchen crew huddled around Carne, who firmly gripped a pair of binoculars in his large hands.

“What are you all doing?” Zeff’s voice boomed over the hushed whispers of the kitchen staff, who quickly turned their heads to address their captain.  He pushed past the men and placed a firm hand on Carne’s shoulder, yanking him back slightly and grabbing the binoculars out of his hands, holding them up to his own eyes.

“It’s definitely a pirate ship, Captain, but my eyes are shot,” Carne eagerly noted.  Zeff merely grumbled in response.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the binocular lenses, but when they did he managed to make out a fairly clear picture of a ship in the distance, now well less than ten miles away and approaching quite rapidly.  Definitely a large pirate ship.  It had a very odd looking nautical figurehead, almost like a sunflower he assumed, but his heart leaped into his throat when his blurry eyes focused on the primary sail which flowed outward, fully unraveled and pushing the vessel towards the Baratie.

A simple Jolly Roger, a rudimentary skull and crossbones design, with a peculiar red-banded straw hat placed on the head of the skull.

“Should we man the–” Patty began to ask, before being cut off by Zeff.

“It’s the Straw Hats.  Prepare the mooring ropes and fenders, they’re going to tie up to us.”  Zeff shoved the binoculars back into the chest and hands of Carne, who once again put them to his face and gazed at the sail of the ship.  The rest of the kitchen staff ran to awaken the boat crew and make the necessary preparations for a vessel connection.  

“Sanji?” Patty simply asked, with sudden wonder in his voice.

“Hopefully,” Carne responded, passing the binoculars to his coworker.  “It’s definitely them.  Look at their Jolly Roger.”

Zeff had turned his back to his two right-hand men to help the others prepare the baratie’s starboard side for the tie-up.  Crew men, freshly shaken awake from their slumbers, bustled around the lower deck tossing heavy, tightly coiled ropes to each other, tying them around the deck’s bollards and laying them down to make them easier to access when the Thousand Sunny would pull up alongside.  Zeff quickly found that there wasn’t much for him to do, the sight of his crew excitedly scurrying around as the news of the Straw Hats’ return to the Baratie spread like wildfire from the mouths of the men bringing a fond smile to the old man’s face.

Now within enough distance to the Straw Hats’ ship that they could hear the excited yelling of their captain perched cross-legged on the top of the figurehead, waving his hand in the air.  A few of the other crew members leaned over the side of the ship, excitedly waving to the Baratie crew.  Once close enough, a large, strangely built blue-haired man launched a heavy rope from the deck of the Sunny downwards towards the Baratie’s crew, who grabbed it and began to pull it taught.  An orange-haired woman (Zeff thought she looked familiar) instructed the sails to be furled while the larger men of the ship helped the Baratie’s sailors moor the two vessels together.  A few stragglers from the floating restaurants crew looked through their portholes at the commotion.  Carne and Patty assisted the blue-haired man (were his arms made of metal?) in raising a gangway for the Straw Hats to board the Baratie, but their captain, still donned in the same straw hat that he wore when they first visited the luxury cruiser, wasted no time in launching himself off of the figurehead and landing with a hard thud on the wooden deck.

“Hey, Geezer!”  His smile almost covered his entire face.  “Do you have any food?”

“Luffy, seriously?  Can you not wait a single minute?”

A familiar voice caused Zeff to turn his head.  Through the hustle of the crews finishing their mooring duties, a head of bright blonde hair and a thin trail of gray smoke met the old chef’s view.  He immediately broke out into a fond smile.  Sanji was leaning precariously over the side of the Sunny, any more and he would tip over the side, a large grin on his face.  Next to him was a young woman, a bit shorter than him, with a steady hand placed on his shoulder ensuring that he didn’t fall overboard.  She gazed down at Zeff, and her face broke into a grin just as large as Sanji’s.

He recognized her as the woman in the photographs.  She was just as beautiful in person.

The gangway was successfully tied, joining the two boats together, and the two first mates excitedly welcomed the Straw Hats aboard the Baratie.  The four who had already visited almost five years prior marveled at the impressive renovations done to the vessel.  New decks, refurbished dining and lounging, impressive paintwork on the outer hull.  The same blue-haired man from before (his arms were made of metal!) was starstruck by the craftsmanship of the restaurant and immediately began asking questions to a few of the crewmen.  A green-haired man with three swords on his hip and a shorter man with curly black hair greeted Carne and Patty with excitement, remembering the two of them from their first visit.  The two women from the Straw Hats, with tangerine and black hair, quickly exited the gangway and joined their companions.  Zeff watched curiously as a skeleton donned in formalwear hauled himself over the side of the Sunny, followed by a fishman.  The Straw Hats were a very curious bunch, but he was filled with a giddy, child-like joy at the sight of them all, healthy, fit, and just as excited as his own crew was for the surprise reunion.

Sanji and his wife disappeared from the side of the Sunny, but quickly reappeared.  Sanji was the first to step onto the gangway before turning around and taking something from his wife, who swiftly followed his lead.  She looked like a natural on the water, and Zeff hummed, pleased.  Sanji turned around to march down the ramp, a child held in his arms, tightly gripping his shirt in her fist.  The two were the last to disembark, and immediately headed toward the Baratie's captain, who stood in mild shock as the three approached.

Sanji passed the child back to his wife so he could greet Zeff with a handshake, but he was beaten by the captain’s speed as he enveloped the smaller man in a bear hug, almost lifting him off his feet.

“Sanji,” he muttered, voice quivering.  “You look incredible.”

“Hey, no crying on me now, Zeff,” Sanji returned the gesture in kind, squeezing his adopted father back and jostling the hat on the older man’s head.  

The two released their warm embrace, and Sanji held out a hand towards his wife and the child in her arms.  The woman stepped forward with a warm smile.

“Red-Leg Zeff, it’s an honor to finally meet you!” she said with profound enthusiasm before introducing herself.  “Sanji’s been talking nonstop about this visit and how excited he’s been to see you again!”

Sanji flushed, embarrassed, but Zeff could only muster a hardy laugh.  He remembered Sanji as a stubborn, hard-to-crack kid, endlessly determined and stopping at nothing to get his way, and the man who stood before him was all of that and more.  He was gazing tenderly at his wife, cheeks rosy with embarrassment and adoration, a smile adorning his thin lips.  Zeff was beyond proud of the man Sanji had become.

“So, who’s this little one?” he asked, cautiously approaching the child in the woman’s arms.  His heart fluttered at the sight of her.

She had wavy, strawberry blonde hair and her dad’s ocean-blue eyes.  A mixture of her mom and dad’s skin tone, and she was clearly developing Sanji’s facial features.  The right corners of her eyebrows had a very slight upward curl.  She was beautiful, and her large eyes gazed curiously at Zeff as he approached.

“Sora, this is your grandfather,” the woman said affectionately.  “Say hi!”  She bounced the baby on her hip.  

When she came to the infantile conclusion that Zeff was indeed not a threat, her chubby cheeks wrinkled with a smile revealing a few barely there baby teeth.  Zeff held out one of his thick, calloused fingers, and she eagerly reached for the man.  Sanji’s wife passed the baby, Sora, over to him, and he held her like a delicate porcelain pot, like she could break at any moment.  Sanji watched the action fondly.

“Her name is Sora, she’s almost two now,” he said, his voice light and airy, almost a whisper.

Zeff bounced Sora, his granddaughter, in his arms, and she released a shrill giggle which brought a smile to his face.  “Sora…”  He knew that was Sanji’s late mother’s name.  It seemed only natural that his daughter would take the honor of bearing her name.  “She’s beautiful,” he sighed, looking at his son and daughter-in-law.  

Sanji looked like he was fighting back tears at the sight of his honorary father holding his daughter.  His wife gently squeezed his hand, and the floodgates leaked, making her chuckle.

“He’s been a bit nervous,” she said toward Zeff.

The gruff captain stepped toward his son and ruffled his smooth blonde hair in his free hand.  Sanji sniffled, picking his head up and wiping his eyes on his sleeve.  His shoulders trembled slightly with the motion of his repressed crying, but he quickly shoved it down and locked eyes with the fatherly ones staring at him.  Zeff didn’t need to ask any questions to know how much a moment like this meant to Sanji.  A child so wronged by his family and the world, growing up with no purpose, no encouragement, losing the one source of love in his life, forced to age so rapidly to survive some of the worst experiences a human should ever have to face.  To have been blessed with a crew that cared for him, fulfilling his dreams, practicing his passion, meeting one special woman who loved and supported him, and being the father of his own child, Sanji was finally content.  He was finally happy, finally content.

Zeff’s voice cracked as he uttered the sentence that he knew would make Sanji crumble.  “I’m so proud of you, son.  Look at how far you’ve come.”

Sanji’s blue eyes welled with tears that he had been holding in since his own childhood.  The commotion from the rest of the two crews faded into a muffled static as Zeff pulled Sanji’s head into his chest, holding him close.  Sora’s hand lightly smacked the top of Sanji’s hair, making him laugh, but it came out as a crackled sob.  His wife laughed, rubbing his back.

“I didn’t want to cry,” he uttered into Zeff’s chest, voice blank with slight resentment.  

“It was inevitable,” you responded with a humorous lilt.

“I know.”  He easily relented to your words, picking his head up from Zeff and placing a hand on his father’s shoulder, giving it a firm smack.  “Sorry for getting your shirt all wet, old man.”

Zeff’s chest bounced with the force of his laughter.  “You’re gonna pay for it, kid.  You’re on dish duty.”

Sanji’s mouth fell open in a panicked retaliation, but after realizing Zeff was, in fact, joking around, his tense shoulders fell in relief.  Sora reached back out toward her mom, who took her from Zeff’s grasp leaving both his hands free again.  He was able to deliver a quick, encouraging slap on Sanji’s back.

“I do expect you to help prepare this feast, though.  Show me how much you’ve improved since you left.”  He winked at his son.  “Though, I doubt you improved that much.”

“Shut up, old man!  I’ll make you the best feast you’ve ever laid eyes on.  A feast that could kill you!”  Old habits die hard, and the family meandered towards the rest of the crew, who were now milling around the lower dining hall excited for a meal to celebrate the Straw Hats’ return, and Zeff’s new granddaughter.

Zeff clapped his hands, alerting his own crew, who frantically took their places around the ship to cater to their pirate guests.  He quickly made his way into his kitchen, rustling through the main pantry for a piece of equipment he hadn’t needed to use in a very long time.  He pulled out a small food processing machine, equipped with an internal blade perfect for mashing fruits and small vegetables.

“Captain, do you need anything?” Patty was rolling up his sleeves and washing his hands in the large wash basin.

“All the fresh fruit we have.  The kid doesn’t have teeth yet, she needs some mush.”

[m1lflov3rrr]

Can’t Help Falling in Love (With You, Over and Over Again)

Pairing: Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Warnings: none, just heartwarming fluff <3

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: You were away for a year, and thought you’d surprise your wife at the night of the Rave’n…

A/N: Hello loves, so so sorry for being inactive!! I’ve been very busy with school, but I am writing one of your requests at the moment :))

You were nervous, to say the least. 

It had been exactly one year since you saw her. 

Let us rewind a bit, shall we? 

You had been together with your wife, the formidable Larissa Weems, for 8 years. And tonight was the night of your anniversary, when you got engaged. It was on this day, exactly 9 years ago that she had asked to marry you. The night of the Rave’n dance. You weren’t surprised that she had chosen this specific event for the proposal, you knew how close to Larissa’s heart the Rave’n was. You found it to be the most adorable thing ever. 

And tonight was the night of the Rave’n, once again. 

You had started your own business a few years ago, a law firm. And last year it had gained an unexpectable amount of success, so much so that you had to leave her and expand the business across the country in California. 

Obviously she couldn’t have come with you, she had a school to run. 

You were glad of how supportive and understanding Larissa was, and even though she tried to keep a strong façade and pretend like she’s okay with you leaving for such a long time, you could see right through her. You knew how much your absence affected her. It sure as hell did affect you. 

But every day, you both made time in your schedules for a video call. Twice a day, every morning, every night. Asking how your days had been, updating each other on the latest events. 

And you made that system work. Although the distance was gnawing at you both, you somehow managed to make it work. 

Your business had expanded three times bigger during your stay in California, and when you finally were informed by your assistant that everything was organized for your stay to be over, that you had enough employees and that the business was thriving, you immediately booked a flight back home. 

And it was perfect, actually. You wanted to surprise her, and the Rave’n was the perfect place to do it. (And also, you couldn’t help but love dramatic entrances, as well.) 

You were sitting on the taxi, on the phone with your dear friend and your wife’s co-worker, Marilyn. You wanted to make sure everything was perfect for tonight. 

You did keep in contact with her frequently as well, asking her updates on her life, (and also asking her how Larissa’s doing, since she was pretending to be all fine when talking to you). 

Marilyn had told you, how lately the usually most modest, organized and practical woman had been more snappy and stressed than usual. And she didn’t have any extra workloads or anything, so you knew it was because of you. Because lately, you had been so busy that you were only able to call her once a day. 

It didn’t seem like a big thing or anything, surely she wouldn’t be affected by such a small change? Wrong. 

Larissa was definitely affected by it. She always had to be in order, having things to go her way and sticking to her schedule, that such a small change did, in fact, take a huge toll on her. And you felt incredibly bad about it. 

Last year, you had left the day after the Rave’n. You wanted to stay for that night, to make your last night there unforgettable. And it was only so ironic and fitting that you were coming back the exact day, tonight. And Larissa knew nothing of it. That was the best part. You loved making surprises. 

And tonight would make the greatest surprise of all. 

-

”And you’re sure she has no idea?” You asked Marilyn as you were checking yourself out on the mirror. You were in her private quarters getting ready with the redhead. 

You had a gorgeous silk gown on you that was definitely accentuating every curve on your body, paired with matching high stilettos. 

(Or, imagine your own!)

When you saw the dress on one of your shopping trips, you knew it’d be perfect for tonight. The dress was expensive, but with your now-high salary, it really didn’t matter. It was graceful, but still left little to the imagination with an open back and its tight, but comfortable fit. 

”Trust me, Y/N, the woman’s clueless. She was literally venting on me yesterday about having to spend the Rave’n completely alone. You have no idea how hard it was for me to just not spill the plan right there and then.” The redhead responded as she was putting on her black, gem earrings. 

You smiled, feeling those nervous butterflies in your stomach about what was going to happen very soon now. 

”Good.” 

”Okay, the dance starts in 15, and I have to be there early to greet the students at the entrance. You know what to do, right?” She asked as she slid on her striking red boots. 

You nodded, smiling thankfully at her in the mirror as she picked up her purse and waved you goodbye before rushing out the door. 

This was going to be one hell of a night. 

-

And before you knew it, you were standing at the entrance, waiting for your call. 

You had planned everything out perfectly. The very same song that played on the night she proposed, would start playing any moment now, and then you’d enter the venue. 

And then, sooner than you thought, that beautiful piano melody began enchanting your whole being as the doors opened. 

Wise men say…

Larissa, who was standing in the middle of the venue, frowned as she heard the music - it sounded vaguely familiar. She soon recognized it and smiled at herself, maybe a bit sentimentally, being reminded of your absence. (Or so she thought.) 

She had really been struggling lately, missing you. You were her everything, her world, her whole being. She simply didn’t know how long she could survive without you anymore, she thought she’d burst with how much she just needed you in her arms at this moment. 

Only fools rush in…

You nervously walked inside, scanning the room with your eyes. Many people were already looking at you, in awe and in surprise. They didn’t know either that the principal’s wife would make it here tonight. 

The children had grown to love you over the years as you naturally hung out a lot at the Academy. 

Several gasps could be heard across the room, causing Larissa’s attention to divert to the doors. 

And she saw you. 

And her entire world froze. 

But I can’t help…

Was she dreaming? Did she have a fever? Was she really missing you that much that she had started seeing things? Imagining things? 

But her racing thoughts were interrupted as you gracefully walked over to her, cupping her cheeks with your hands. 

”Hello, my love.” 

And at hearing your voice, feeling your touch, she realized that it was all real. That you were real. 

You saw how her eyes began glistening with unshed tears, and an almost inaudible sound, barely above a whisper came out from her lips; 

”Darling…” 

Falling in love with you. 

And her hands practically flew to the back of your neck, pulling you close and connecting your lips after all this time. 

And it was so magical, and the whole room had their eyes on you. Everything was perfect. 

You smiled in content against her lips, glad to be home again. 

”I missed you so much, Rissa. You have no idea. May I have this dance?” You whispered, watching how a single tear was running down her cheek. You wiped it away with your thumb as you placed another loving kiss on her lips. 

And your wife seemed to still be so incredibly shocked, that all she could mutter out was a rushed; ”Always.” 

Oh, take my hand… 

She pulled you into the warmest hug you’d ever been in as you began swaying to the music, everyone else in the room gathered in a large circle around you two, admiring your moment and the unconditional love that was now felt by everyone in the dance. 

Take my whole life too…

Larissa buried her face in your neck, breathing in your familiar scent and sighing with relief, you were at last, back where you were supposed to be. In her arms. 

”Don’t you ever leave me for that long again.” She whispered to your ear, causing you to grin widely as you turned your gaze to meet hers. 

For I can’t help… 

”I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll never, ever leave you again. Cross my heart.” You whispered back, sealing it with a kiss. 

Falling in love with you. 

[k-slla]

Fate, Or Something Like It | part 1

Little bit of a crossover between The Boys & Suits

A/N: So this is the last square filled on my first card for @jacklesversebingo ! Honestly didn't think I'd get to this, but look at that! 😄

Square filled: "You made me get out of my pajamas for this?"

Also using the chance to post it as my first entry to @artyandink's JENSEN-A-THON.:) (I was said there is no max word count😅)

Based on THIS request that an anon sent me and it will be a 2 part story :)

Word count: ~12.9k | My Masterlist

Both parts will have separate warning, in this one you will find: Slightly OOC Ben, naive reader, physical assault, choking, language, angst, mentions and descriptions of torture, use of drugs and alcohol, mentions of past traumas, partial frontal nudity, size kink(if you squint), brief Fem masturbation -I hope I didn't miss any:)

Special thanks to @nescaveckwriter - for your help and inspiration torture through all those gifs you hyped me up with! 😈Love you, Nes!

ENJOY!

If anyone would’ve asked you right now ‘Are you happy?’ you could've easily answered them with a simple ‘yes’. Saying you were a workaholic, would've been definitely an understatement, but it was a good thing that anything else in your personal life didn't require that much attention, so you happily took on as much work as possible. At least it kept you busy. 

You were working at Pearson Hardman, one of the top law firms in New York. With a professional long-time dream of becoming a senior partner in the firm, you were glad to see that your efforts were slowly paying off. Only one obstacle stood in your way - Harvey Specter. Harvey was a good attorney, you had to admit that. Probably one of the best New York has ever seen, but you hoped to have a chance to prove that you were better. 

You didn't hide your ambition of becoming a partner from anyone and Jessica saw how hard you worked to deserve that spot amongst them. The other partners saw that. And you knew that even Harvey saw how much you were ready to sacrifice for the job. You practically lived in your office. And if that was what it took to reach your goal then sleeping in your bed and having a personal life were small things to give up on. But Harvey shared that mentality, and you were well aware of that. 

Both of you had been competing with each other ever since you met in Harvard, so it wasn't exactly a surprise that this position was basically up between you two, too. But a friendly competition hurt no one, if anything, it gave you the drive to work even harder than before. And you loved it. So yes, you could've said you were happy with your life, because then you just didn’t know yet what, or rather who was missing from it. Until you ran into the man, who'd then turn your life upside down just in a week. 

There he was waiting in front of your work place one evening. You had to admit, he was hard to miss in his green super soldier outfit, but you walked right past him, which just seemed to offend him, judging by the sudden shift of his attitude. Of course you knew who he was, how the women threw themselves at him. All the ladies’ favorite Soldier Boy. You could’ve bet he expected the same kind of reaction from you he had already gotten used to. 

But you didn't fall for his look. You didn't have strength to react to him in any way, so you continued on your way, trying to get home to sleep. Out of nowhere someone yanked you backwards towards the alleyway. A quick ‘hey’ was all you managed to say, before you saw that it was in fact Soldier Boy who had attacked you. 

There was no one around at the moment so just screaming for help wouldn't have worked. Not that it would've even with people around you. He was huge and could easily take on anyone in a fight, but you still tried to get yourself away from him. “No! Let me go!” you grunted. Having a hard time keeping up with his long strides, you were around the building already as he dragged you after him into the alley, pushing you then roughly against the wall. “What do you want from me?” you gritted through the teeth as he held you against the wall, trying your hardest to get yourself free from him.

“Nothing much, doll. Just a little…payback.” He whispered, coming in closer to your face, his low voice vibrating in your ear. With a grin, his hand slowly rose from your chest up to your neck, cutting off the air from you. You fought hard trying to pry his hand away from your neck, but he only tightened his grip. 

“I…haven't…done anything…to you.” You said with a strained voice. You could already feel his hurt, anger and hate, it was just radiating from him. You tried to get through to him, to try to ease him from all that, help him, but all you got was what he's been through for those close to 40 years that he was considered dead. Seeing what he went through, you knew that's what he probably wished for as well. 

You were also a supe, but one of those unimportant ones, who besides The Seven didn't really exist to the rest of the society. Luckily you weren't shooting lasers from your eyes, so it was easy for you to hide your power from others. You were a healer. Kind of. 

You could feel what the person had been through, by physical contact. That's how it usually was. It came to you as a sense of negative emotion they had, caused by their experienced distress and trauma, and you “healed” them - erased the pain etched to the memory. But sometimes, when those memories were stronger, they ran in your head like movies. Sometimes, they even caused you physical pain. 

“Don't fucking lie to me! You were there! I saw you.” You already started to get light headed, but gathering your last strength, you managed to kick him. No surprise - it had no effect on him, but it still made him lighten his grip around your neck slightly. 

You could feel everything he was put through. The torture. The betrayal. And all the hurt that had remained. It was too much for one person to go through, even for a supe like him. 

The images of his memories in Russia started to flash before your eyes. Pictures of him restrained- being shot at, burned, poisoned, electrocuted. All that pain over and over again. 

You saw all of it through his eyes. You felt everything he was put through. He may be hard to kill, probably impossible even, but he still felt all that pain and torture. It all must've left some mark on his psyche. 

Hot tears started prickling in your eyes. What you weren't sure of was the reason why. Were they just your body's natural response to him choking you or did you feel sorry for him? First option sounded like a reasonable choice, but you knew your heart was leaning towards the other end. Your naivety got you believing that even someone like Soldier Boy didn't deserve that.

“I wasn't there. I heard what they did, but I wasn't there!” You couldn't tell him about your power, what you had just seen, he'd never believe you and would probably kill you right then and there. 

But Ben on the other hand was sure he wasn't imagining things. He might have downed a bottle of pills and a whiskey before coming for you, but his mind was clear. As much as it could've been. He didn't get much influenced by drugs or alcohol before, but after Russia something had changed. He had no idea what they'd exactly done to him, but he started to get occasional blackouts from drugs and those fucking obnoxious Russian tracks that started ringing in his ears every time someone pissed him off. Even now he was a little bit out of it. 

He knew what he saw when the Reds had him held up. He thought so at least. Every day, or night even, when they experimented on him, tried to kill him, or whatever the fuck they were doing, there was a woman. Spitting image of the one in front of him. The one that he was most eager to find. 

She took away his will. His will to fight back. She took away his will to break free from his restraints and to rip the heads off them one by one, leaving as his only option to wait for his love to come to save him, not knowing she was part of the team who had betrayed him. She had left him to rot in the hopelessness of his own mind. 

But focusing on the woman standing in front of him, Ben's mind was getting a little foggy. Fuck...was it even her? She's not using her power. She's scared, polar opposite to the woman he saw in the lab - cold as ice, lifeless. For a moment he thought that his mind had just started to fill the blanks. She’s…different. She's not even trying to control me. Am I just high? 

Ben was getting truly hesitant of trusting himself. He almost wanted to let her go, when he realized it was just some trick on him. It had to be. She is playing with me. Like she did there.

“I saw you! You were there, every goddamn day when they tortured me! Playing your fucking mind games with me.” He wasn't giving up. He had a list. He had almost forty years to think of each one of them who betrayed him, how to make them pay. Of course he started with Countess. She sure was surprised to see him alive. And finally when he had found you, he now had second thoughts. 

“No...I.. wasn't! I...please...” Your words were slowly dying on your lips. If it weren't for the group of teenagers walking by, Ben would've most certainly killed you. He threw a sideways glance at them. As tempting as it might've been, he knew better than to kill with witnesses around. Not to mention kids. He still had some reputation to maintain. Not that he really cared about that. But he knew he'd have another chance with you. He'll make sure of it. Ben let go of you and you fell straight to the ground. Without missing a beat, you grabbed your bag that you had dropped and ran from him, not daring to look back. “The fuck you're staring at?” You heard him shout behind you, aiming it towards the teens who had begun staring at you two.

When you finally got home - much, much later than you had expected - you had no energy left to cook or clean. All you wanted was a relaxing shower and a decent amount of sleep for a change. Mindlessly you sat under the hot stream of water on the bathroom floor and the events of tonight really got to you. 

He was ready to kill you tonight and still you were sympathetic for him. While studying the pattern of the floor tiles for a long time, you got more certain with each passing minute that there must be something wrong with you, because there was just no other reason for you to feel sorry for him. You were so stuck in tonight's events, you didn't even notice the water starting to run colder, until the sudden icy water falling onto your shoulders brought you back. Trying not to slip, you scrambled out of the shower as quickly you could. 

You couldn't sleep that night. Not as much as you had hoped at least. You couldn't stop thinking about his words that were still echoing in your head. 

“You were there, every goddamn day when they tortured me!” 

It was almost four decades ago. You weren't even alive then. He must've been just hallucinating there. There couldn’t be any other explanation. Wouldn't be a surprise exactly, too, if you thought more about it, considering what he went through. 

Finally, very early in the morning, you managed to fall asleep. But in all those barely three hours of sleep that you got, you had one sight in mind. Green eyes. His eyes. Full of hate and anger towards the world around him, and trying to hide the pain eating him up from the inside. You knew it was probably not his plan to let it show, but he just didn't know who you really are. 

For the remaining two work days you had left before the weekend, as hard as it was, you were fortunately able to push the incident with him from your mind and focus fully on work. 

And on Friday night, another asshole, a lot friendlier than Soldier Boy, but still a kind of jerk, flew in to ruin your night, again, in the form of Billy Butcher.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” 

Your friendship with Billy was, to put it mildly...odd. He only called you to ask “favors” regarding your power, every now and then, and while you had no reason to give in to him, you just couldn't bring yourself to say no. But considering how the last few times have gone, this time he called to probably claim your soul. 

“What do you want?” Just a call from him had already put a dent into your peaceful evening, so you were in no mood for him beating around the bush. 

“What? No hello?” He laughed, but not getting a reaction from you, he continued. “Straight to the business then. Can a..uh.. let's just call him a friend of mine..can he stay with you for a week?” There was silence on the line for a second. “Or possibly two?” Billy added under his breath.

“What! No!” You couldn’t get your rejection at his plan out any faster. “Not after last time!” 

“Hey! Don't blame me for that. I didn't know they would…nevermind..” he muttered. “I just really need someone to keep an eye on Ben. He's.. He's been through some stuff and has a bit of a “shell shock” as one might say.” 

You heard a little shuffling on the other side and a faint grumpy voice. “I don't have shell shock. Fuck you!” 

“I'm not letting anyone in my apartment again.” You stood your ground. 

“Sweetheart, I'm begging you! Really am! Just this one time.” You sensed from his voice he was getting a bit desperate. 

“Is she bitching?” You heard that same low voice as before. 

“You can tell your friend that I heard that and I do not appreciate it! My answer is no!"

“Ben, shut it. Please, I need someone I trust to look after him. He needs help and I know you, you really are the only one who can help him.” Billy said quietly into the phone. 

“No. I have work and I don't want anyone in my home when I'm not there.” 

“Fair! How about this then...”    

You had no idea how he managed to convince you to move into their headquarters or apartment or whatever they chose to call it. Not a fucking clue. But here you were with your suitcase, ready to move in for an indefinite time. All this had only one upside for you - shorter commute to work. 

Standing outside, you called through the intercom, and waited for Butcher to answer. Probably knowing it was you downstairs, he opened the door immediately. You really felt luck being against you lately, so it came to you as no surprise that the elevator, too, was out of order. With a heavy sigh, you braced yourself for the stupid amount of stairs ahead. 

When you made it to their door, you were absolutely out of breath. Why couldn't I have flying as my power? That would have come handy right now. No, no, no...I am a healer. Unfair. 

You knocked on the door, still trying to calm your breathing. After a moment, Butcher finally opened it. “Hello, luv! You made it!” You wanted to beat this shit-eating grin off his face. Too bad he was stronger than you. “We were about to start betting on how long it would take for you to get up here.” 

“That piece of shit elevator is out of order again.” You grunted, pulling your suitcase into the room after you. 

Setting it down in the living room, you looked around in the apartment. You saw only Butcher and Hughie around. “So? Where's that friend of yours?” The grin on Billy's face grew wider. 

“I swear to God, if that was just some joke that you two tried to play on me..” you were still out of breath, but tried to sound threatening, although, there wasn’t much you could do to him. Maybe to Hughie, yes, if he was in on the joke, but not to Butcher. 

“No, not a joke. He's real and I bet you'll get along nicely.” It seemed as if Ben had heard you, and sauntered cockily out of his room. “So, where's the new roomie...?” His smug grin only widened when he saw your dumbfounded face. You defensively took a step back. “No, Billy, hell no!” 

Butcher stepped protectively in front of you. “Relax, he's not gonna bite.” 

“Not gonna bite?! He tried to kill me less than three days ago.” You hissed as an answer, glaring at Ben, as you learnt was his name, over Billy's shoulder. 

“And now he'll promise to behave, right, Ben?” Ben rolled his eyes at you and walked into the kitchen. “Whatever.” 

You stared after him. “Why can't someone else babysit him?” 

“We have some work coming up. Listen. I know what happened between you two. He told me and right after I explained to him that there was no possible way for you to have been in Russia all this time ago. But, Y/N, you're the only one who can help me. Please.” It was really out of his character to see him beg for something. 

You stood in silence for a minute. You spineless piece of… You cursed yourself in your head. “Where’s my room?"

Waking up next morning you were glad that it was Saturday. You had the whole weekend to assess this…situation. You were the first one up and started making breakfast for everyone. Butcher was still snoring on the couch in the living room, as Hughie probably claimed the last free room to himself. You have always been more of a ‘forgive and forget’ type of person. Always seeing the best in people. Even if it took time to let go, you never were one to hold a grudge. It would have been totally understandable for you to walk out this time, too, but all you wanted was just to try to let go of what had happened with Ben a few days ago, so you tried to be nice.

You knew you two wouldn't be friends, not like with Hughie or Butcher, not that you were very close to them either, but you hoped that you could at least be civil around each other for the few weeks now that you had agreed to live with him.

In the middle of frying up some bacon, you heard a bedroom door opening, so it was either Hughie or Ben. A second later, from the corner of your eye, you saw a figure appear on the kitchen door. 

“That's what I like to see - a woman in the kitchen, right where she belongs.” Definitely not Hughie. You were about to shoot back some snarky comment, when you finally took a look at him. “Shit...” You mumbled quietly. 

Leaning on the doorway, Ben was wearing only some green floral silk robe that hung open on his shoulders. Nothing underneath it. The unexpectedness of seeing his cock the first thing in the morning hit you hard. Your mind went blank and against your will, you had to admit that you were quite literally hypnotized by him. 

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” A low chuckle rang in the distance, bringing you out of your short daydream. You blinked at him and blushed hard, realizing you had been just standing there, staring at him. Talk about morning wood. After letting out a long exhale, your focus was now fully back on bacon. “P-please put on s-some clothes?” 

He slowly walked towards you, not closing the robe. Heat started to climb up your cheeks when he stopped next to you. “You do like the view.” Ben said smugly and snatched a piece of bacon from the plate. Not even a question this time. He knew the effect he had on you. You couldn't even deny it to yourself. 

“Stop harassing the poor woman and put on some clothes.” Billy grumbled from the couch. 

“You're no fun.” Ben said to Billy before stepping in even closer to you, seizing the last of the personal space you had left and whispering. “But soon we'll be all alone and I'll tell you, sweetheart, you'll fuckin’ beg for it.” He winked and you just stared at him, mouth slightly agape. 

“Bacon's a bit burned, by the way.” Ben grinned and finally covered himself before turning around and leaving the kitchen. 

Rest of the day went luckily quietly, with you staying mostly hidden in your own room. Kimiko, Frenchie and MM came around noon, to talk through the last minute changes on the plan for their new job. 

“So, please don't kill each other. Or I mean, Ben, don’t kill her.” Hughie smiled at you and Ben, before walking out of the door, making you roll your eyes at his back. 

“And don't tear the place down, if you decide to...you know…get acquainted better. Which you probably will.” Billy said with a smirk. “If you do, you fix it up. Got it?” He continued sternly. 

“Got it.” Quick slap from Ben landed on your ass, making a shrill yelp escape from you. 

“Hey! We're not - I - he won't..!” Your brain short-circuited again, for the second time today, because of Ben. Butcher winked knowingly and then turned around to leave. “See ya!” With a wave, he was out the door.

You were now left alone with Ben, who scoffed beside you. “What's your problem?” 

“Don't even get me started.” You mumbled quietly and walked past him into the kitchen.

“I heard that!” He called after you. 

“Good!” You looked back at the doorway, and saw Ben stomping towards you. You rolled your eyes and started to make some coffee. 

“No, seriously. What's your problem?” He crossed his arms. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Do you really want to know?” 

“That's why I asked.” 

You fully turned towards him and leaned on the kitchen island with one hip. “My problem is that three days ago you tried to kill me, without any explanation, you haven't even apologized and now you're acting like nothing's happened, and I'm stuck here with you because of my inability to say no. So there you go.”

“Actually, I had an explanation.” He said absentmindedly, before stepping in front of you, squinting his eyes and pointing his finger at you. “And, no, that's not your problem, but I know what it really is.” He said slowly.

You waved your arms in front of you, his cockiness started to slowly infuriate you. “Please, enlighten me.”

Ben bit his bottom lip and raised his eyebrows with a little nod. “You haven't been properly fucked for a while.” He said boldly, making you fume on the inside. “Yeah. That's it. I can see all that...frustration in you, sweetheart.” He was now grinning ear to ear, flashing his bright smile. “More than happy to help you out.” He added with a simple shrug. “You're a tad bit young for me, but I can look past it. I tend to go to women with a bit more experience.” He left you completely speechless and the grin on his face grew wider with each second you sputtered in front of him, blinking rapidly as you tried to figure out something to say.

“Ew, just stop it, okay!” You blurted out finally. “Can we just try to be normal around each other for one day, without you making some lewd suggestions about my personal life?”

Ben's eyes twinkled mischievously. “Okay.” He shrugged and then raised his finger. “I'll give you one day.” And with that he walked out of the kitchen and left you there standing, cursing the choice of words you had made.

“Fuck me..” You muttered, realizing that now Ben will probably start riling you up even more.

“What was that?” He appeared again on the kitchen door with a wicked smile on his lips, clearly hoping he had heard you correctly. You had to admit - Ben was hellishly handsome, too handsome for his own good and of course he knew that. You couldn't hold back the chuckle that escaped from your lips, seeing that little playful glint in his eyes.

“Nothing!” You called out quickly, face turning red.

Note to self - be careful when speaking to yourself. Man has super hearing.

You had to be grateful that at least Ben did keep his promise and kept to his own on Sunday.

A blood-curdling scream woke you in the middle of the night. You were certain that you had just dreamed it, because when you sat up in bed, it was all silent around you. Until you heard him again.

So this is what Butcher meant by helping him.

It now kind of made sense also, why he called you in the first place. Obviously it wasn't just to keep Ben company. You dragged yourself out of the bed and made your way to his room next to yours.

You could hear the strained screams even through the door. Not bothering with knocking, you pushed it open and entered his bedroom.

Ben was cramped up in his bed, like in a shock. His teeth were bared, grunting almost animalistically, and his breathing was rapid.

You could instantly feel your own breath getting caught in your throat and tears starting to well up in your eyes. “Ben.” You said quietly and sat down next to him on the bed.

Whatever he was experiencing right now must've been some of the most horrible things you could ever imagine.

You put one hand on his chest, trying to gently wake him up. Instead you got more nauseous every second, feeling like a knife was twisted in your guts and every inch of your skin was on fire. You were unable to control the tears streaming down your cheeks. The flashbacks you started to get were horrible. You felt every stab, cut and burn he had gotten. They made you physically want to vomit. Never before have you reacted this strongly to someone. But never before have you met someone who has experienced so much pain like Ben. You tried your hardest to keep the disturbing images from creeping up in your mind.

“Ben, wake up!” You softly stroked his head, grimacing along with him, seeing his beautiful features distorted from pain. You couldn't take it anymore. Placing both of your hands on his face, you turned him towards you. To be able to help him, you had to calm down yourself first. With what Ben went through, this was surely going to be a challenge. You closed your eyes and focused on your breathing and the feeling of his face in your arms. He still hadn't woken up, so you had to get him to calm down in his sleep.

It took a long time. It took so much more from you than it usually did. You could feel your energy drain. Ben was still cramped up, strained groans leaving his lips, but slowly you were able to ease your breathing. Tears were still flowing down your cheeks but your mind was getting clearer with each exhale, until there was nothing left. No pain. No flashbacks. You felt Ben quieting down next to you, his body slowly starting to relax. Your eyes were still closed, when you heard him waking up. You had hoped to be gone already when he would wake, but now it was too late.

“Y/N? What- where am I?” He was drowsy and confused about his surroundings. Seeing him awake, you immediately pulled your hands from his face to dry your eyes, so he wouldn't see you crying.

“It's okay, Ben. You're fine.” He rubbed his hand over his face, visibly more confused now. He turned to look at you, brows knit tightly together. “Wait, what are you doing here? What did you do to me?”

You turned away from him on the edge of the bed. “I didn't do anything. I just heard you scream and came to check on you.”

You knew he didn't believe you. You didn’t even believe yourself what you were saying.

“Don't lie to me. Who are you?” Ben sat up in bed.

“I am not lying, Ben. I didn't do anything.”

You saw that he was quickly getting annoyed, angry even. “I don't wake up from these dreams just like that. I have to…suffer through them.” Ben gritted, glaring at you. “And you are here, crying. Who are you?” He repeated himself and quickly got out of bed, pulling you up with him. “Tell me!”

“Alright, fine! Just so I can go to bed.” You yelled back. You looked down at his hand grabbing your shoulder painfully. “Let go of me, then I'll talk. Thank you.” You added in a slightly softer manner when he let go of your arm, but hesitantly waited for a second before you started talking. “I…am a supe, too, although my powers aren't as good as “The Seven” or whatever, but I am a kind of healer.” You started cautiously, being afraid of his reaction. “Like almost an empathic healer?” You added and took a glance at him. You could see he was not following you at that moment. “It means I can feel and heal people's emotional traumas. Well, I don't “heal” heal, but you know, make them less painful over time.” You were pacing around the room, not knowing what was going through his head. “That's why Butcher even called me in the first place. To come and help you.”

“Why didn't you just tell me that?” He asked, voice quieter than before.

“I don't know.” You shrugged.

Ben sat down on the bed again and you thought he wanted to go back to sleep, so you started to leave the room.

“Wait.” You heard him suddenly ask behind you. He stared after you with a questioning look in his eyes. “Why were you crying?”

You got slightly embarrassed, hoping he hadn't noticed that. “Um...Well, when I say I feel the pain, I actually tend to feel it. It comes to me almost like memories or sometimes flashbacks through the eyes of the person going through it, but..uh..I feel it all that too. Tonight was actually the first time I've cried. It was just too much today.” You stood on the door and kept your eyes down on the floor.

Feeling like you had overshared, you quickly muttered “good night” under your breath, and almost ran out of the room. You heard Ben call something after you, but you didn't stay to hear what he had to say. He didn't follow.

Now it was Monday morning and you were again making breakfast before you had to go to work. After leaving Ben's room last night, you couldn't fall asleep, so you tried to think of a few simple rules to have set up for the time you two were living together. But with Ben being as he is, you were certain he'd not welcome them warmly. So first you needed to bribe him. Just a little.

You had set everything on the table, coffee, bacon and eggs and whatever else you thought he'd like for breakfast. You sucked in a quick breath before you went to wake him up. You knocked on the door and opened it. “Hey, Ben! Wake up!’

He only lifted his head to look at the clock on the bedside table. “No.”

“Yes. We have to talk before I go to work.” You picked up some sweatpants and a t-shirt from the chair by the door and threw them on his bed. “And put some clothes on.”

When he saw that you were not leaving, Ben finally sat up in bed. It took all of your willpower not to let your eyes wander over his body, barely covered by the familiar green silk robe. “Damn it, woman. It's 7 in the morning.” He opened the drawer next to the bed and pulled out a ready rolled joint. You made no effort to hide the disgust on your face as he lit it and took a long drag on it. “Seriously?” You looked between him and the reefer between his fingers.

“What?” He shrugged, clearly it has become a part of his routine.

“It's 7am. That's really the first thing that goes into your mouth in the morning after waking up?”

Ben pulled the blunt from his lips with a smirk and took a long look at you up and down. “I mean, if I'd have you in the bed with me, this definitely wouldn't be the first thing in my mouth.”

You crossed your arms on your chest, hoping to hide the jolt of unexpected arousal that ran through your core.

“Stop that. I made breakfast.” You said sternly as you walked out of his room. “And put the clothes on!” You added over your shoulder.

You sat at the kitchen table with a notebook, writing down some basic rules you'd both have to follow. You hoped that Ben could be reasonable about these few things. It was nothing major. Just to make sure you both agreed on cleaning after yourselves and some compromises over cooking.

After a little while Ben finally joined you in the kitchen. You were focused on reading a news article on your phone, when you heard him opening and closing the cupboards looking for a cup for himself. You looked up at him, and you almost choked on air, but managed to disguise it as a simple cough. Of course Ben wasn't fully dressed. It was clearly too much to ask of him.

His bare back was turned towards you, muscles flexing as he reached for a cup. You didn't want to, but couldn't hold back on checking out the rest of his body, too. More importantly, you were quietly admiring the way his sweatpants hugged his butt. Usually you were not one to thirst over men, but something about Ben felt different. You almost had completely forgotten his attack on you, which you knew was wrong, but given what you saw that night then and now again last night, you knew that there was more to him than he let on. He had been through a lot and it wasn't his fault. You wanted to believe that not all of it at least.

You gave Ben a few minutes to wake up properly in silence. You decided that you weren't going to talk about last night if he wouldn't bring it up himself.

“So, I wanted to talk about house chores with you.”

He looked at you with a completely dead face. “You made me get out of my pajamas for this? Are you having a stroke?”

It was not easy for you to hold back laughter. “First of all - no, I'm not having a stroke.” You took too big of a bite out of your breakfast sandwich. “Secondly - you really call that silky green pornstar robe a pajama? Are you a five year old?” You started choking on your food, trying to keep a straight face asking this from him.

“I don't know. Sounds to me like you're just jealous. I can lend it to you, you know? It's very comfortable.” A genuine smile, the first one you’ve seen from him, lit up his whole face. He took his plate and got up from the table. God, he’s gorgeous. You gave yourself a mental slap and stopped that thought right there. NO, Y/N. You can’t think like that. He literally tried to kill you. It started to feel dangerous already being around him, and it was only the start of the third day. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“No, seriously though. We have to set up some basic stuff to keep the place tidy for both of us. It's not the 50s anymore. Women have jobs now, you know. I have a job, too and I will not take everything onto my shoulders.”

“Mm, yeah, not gonna happen.” Ben took his food and disappeared into his room.

“Oh, come on! Ben!” You called after him, but the only answer you received was the loud thud from the door shutting behind him. This went as well as I had expected. You sighed defeatedly and started to clean up the kitchen before heading to work.

Meeting after meeting, one deposition on top of the other, your day passed excruciatingly slow. And it was just Monday, which was already the downside to begin with.

On your way out of the office building, you pulled out your phone. On your lock screen glowed notifications of unanswered calls and a message from Ben, asking you to pick up some whiskey and drugs.

You rolled your eyes, already regretting giving him your phone number. Hughie had taught Ben how to use a smartphone. You can only imagine how that must've looked to a bystander. For a scrawny little dude, Hughie must have iron nerves to have kept up with Ben.

Before you could text him back, a call from Jessica came in and a sense of dread washed over you.

“Hi, Jessica. What can I do for you?”

“Hello, Y/N, I know you left the office for the day already, but please come see me first thing in the morning. We need to talk.”

We need to talk. That definitely didn’t ease your mind. You breathed deeply for a moment before answering to her. “Alright, I'll see you tomorrow.”

You knew what this was going to be about. They’ve decided on who to offer the Senior partner position. And judging by Jessica’s voice, it probably wasn’t going to be you. Scratch that. It definitely wasn’t going to be you.

You did a quick trip to the grocery store, picking up coffee and some things for dinner tonight. And you didn't forget Ben, and got him whiskey, although drugs were where you would draw the line. You will not be one to supply him with drugs.

Walking home from the corner store, you had some time to think. You wanted that position. You wanted to give your contribution to developing Pearson Hardman to its best. You wished to have the same kind of impact on junior associates, like Jessica had on you when you first started in the firm. You’ve given a lot to work yourself up. It didn’t feel selfish to you to think that you deserved that. But even if you wouldn’t get it, you knew it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Becoming a partner would be one of your biggest goals in professional life, but at the end of the day, you were still working to help people. And that's what matters. That’s what you tried to focus on at least.

You tried to push all the work thoughts out of your mind so you could relax just for a few hours that's left of the evening before you'd pass out on the couch. You threw together a quick dinner for both you and Ben and went straight to bed afterwards, hoping that you’d get more sleep this time.

But again, you woke up in the middle of the night, hearing his screams from the other room. It was only the second night and already you could feel it drain you more than the last night.

You stood at the door for a minute, just staring at him. How you were supposed to last two weeks or longer doing this almost every night, you had no idea, but now you knew that you couldn’t just leave him either. If it was in your power to help him, you had to at least try. No matter what he’d done. No matter what he would do. Knowing what he had gone through, it had already become impossible for you to just walk away from him. So you didn't.

For over an hour you were by his bed tonight, barely holding yourself together as you got him through the nightmare.

“I don't need your help. I'm fine,” Ben snapped at you as he woke up and rested his head against the headboard with a sigh.

“Yeah, looks like it.” You stared at him for a minute, but seeing he wouldn't even look at you, you scoffed and got up from the bed.

“Fine.” You left his room in a hurry and closed the door behind you with a loud thud.

You pulled the blanket over your head, trying to fall back asleep. After laying in bed for almost an hour, you finally managed to get some sleep, but only a short time later, your alarm pulled you out from deep sleep and you had to back down from the urge to throw your phone across the room. Exhaustedly you sat up in bed and let your legs hang over the edge.

You had all your hope put into a morning shower and a strong coffee to make you somewhat functional, but today they chose to let you down. You were still tired and distraught from Ben's dreams from the night.

You know that these dreams are tormenting him almost daily, but if he says he doesn't want help, should you even keep doing that? Should you still put yourself through all that pain? It hasn't been this bad while helping others, but with Ben, everything felt tenfold stronger. You could feel yourself being so close to breaking already.

Jessica was already in the office when you arrived, despite it being a few hours before the official start of the work day. She really is the perfect example of a self-made woman and you were definitely lucky to have her as a mentor.

You knocked on the open door of her office. “Hi, Jessica, you wanted to see me?”

“Y/N, good morning. Yes, come on in.” Jessica greeted you with a smile as you stepped in. “Close the door and take a seat, please.”

You sat down across from her. She already had the look. The same look she always gets when she has to give bad news. You knew what was coming, but still you held onto the small glimmer of hope that the outcome would be in your favor.

“I asked you to come here to tell you that the board had a meeting yesterday. All the partners voted on who will be offered the open Senior partner position.”

You took a deep breath and nervously started to play with your rings under the table out of Jessica's sight.

“I want you to know that we were thinking in favor of the firm and the decision was purely made on professional aspects. That's why we're going to move forward with Harvey. I hope you understand.”

“Right, of course. I do understand. He's..” you swallowed the lump in your throat before continuing. “Harvey is a hard worker. He's the right choice.” You smiled at her, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice.

For the rest of the day you buried yourself into work to use it as a distraction. Because that's what usually keeps you from spiraling down. Today you hoped it would keep your mind away from Ben, too.

For the whole day you had managed to keep yourself from thinking about him. You were busy. You just didn’t have time to thirst over him from that one moment you saw him without a shirt.

Or that morning in the kitchen…almost naked. But now in your quiet office? It was hard not to think of him. You swallowed hard before forcing your focus back to the papers in front of you. You were berating yourself for even giving him space in your head. You knew the guy for three days and he had tried to kill you. Literally.

But something about him still pulled you towards him. And it was much more than just sexual attraction. You weren’t going to lie to yourself - he was hot. Goddamn, he was hot and you wanted him all over you. And if keeping your dignity wouldn’t have mattered to you, you probably would’ve jumped his bed yesterday morning. But something else captivated you about him and you couldn't put a finger on it.

It was well past 9pm when you heard a startling knock on your office door. You raised your head quickly and saw Harvey at the door.

“Hey, you're still here this late?” He asked curiously, leaning on the doorframe. Letting out a deep sigh you started to gather together all the papers scattered around on the table.

“Just finished. It's not that late, is it? Time just flies when you're having fun. You of all people should know it.” Tired smile on your face betrayed how you were feeling on the inside. You cleared your throat. “I saw Jessica this morning. I guess congratulations are in order.” You stood up from the desk and reached out your hand to him.

The air in the room was dense from the tension between you and Harvey. “You don't have to do that.” He gave you a little, sad smile.

“Do what?” You lowered your hand back down after seeing him not reach out to it.

“You don't have to pretend that you're happy for me, Y/N. I know you wanted that spot, too.”

For a moment the room fell silent, the only sound in the office was quiet shuffling as you packed up your bag to leave. “I'm not.” You zipped up your bag and threw it over your shoulder. “I'm not pretending, I mean. I am happy for you.” You quickly followed up before he'd get the wrong idea. “They did what they think is best for the company, and you deserve it, so of course I’m happy for you.” You smiled genuinely as you walked past Harvey into the hallway.

“Thanks.” He still sounded hesitant, but from you there were no hidden meanings behind your words. You really were happy for him. He is a good friend of yours and has been for a long time. That didn’t mean that you weren’t just a little jealous of him.

Cool night air hit you as soon as you stepped out of the building. You were tired, but you didn’t want to go home yet.

You started to walk, completely unsure of where you’d end up. Mindlessly you wandered around on the streets, witnessing the start of the night life in front of your eyes, despite it being Tuesday.

One underground bar caught your attention, and you decidedly walked towards it to check it out. You weren't planning to stay longer than for a drink. Working with a hangover was hell on earth, so one time was enough for you. You had definitely learned from your mistakes and were not excited to repeat them.

From the looks of the groups of people lingering outside of the bar, you expected it to be crowded to the roof, but you were pleasantly surprised that there were not that many people in there, and you even had the option to choose seating for yourself. It’s still early, you thought as you picked out a table in the far back corner.

You sat down right beside the wall, facing away from the rest of the room, leaving an empty seat between the table and wall.

You sat there for a minute, massaging your temples to get rid of the headache that slowly started to build. You hadn't slept well for the past few nights and it started to get to you.

After getting your drink, you sat back down and raised the glass to your lips, when you heard a voice behind you, the same one you were trying to run away from right now.

“Didn't think I'd find you in a hole like this.”

Fuck. Now I'm imagining things, too. You downed the drink in one go. You had planned on sipping on it slowly, savoring it. You winced as the whiskey burned your throat going down. There were heavy footsteps approaching and then he sat down across from you.

“What are you doing here?” You sighed tiredly.

Ben flagged down the bartender. “What does it look like, sweetheart? I'm getting a drink."

“Why here? Were you following me?” You asked him straight up.

Ben scoffed. “Hah, don't flatter yourself. I like this bar.”

“Really?” You didn't hide the disbelief from your voice. You had a feeling that he wasn't telling quite the truth. “What's the name of it?”

You saw from his expression that he was racking his brains to come up with some name. “Little…Sal’s?” A grin broke out on his face. “What?”

You grimaced at his stupid answer. “No, Ben, it's not...that. Why were you following me?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don't even know. I tried to call, but you didn't answer.”

“Well, that should've been your first clue that I didn't want to talk.”

“And you didn't come home either.”

“Should’ve taken that as a second clue. Don't tell me you actually started to worry about me?” You winked at him teasingly.

“Well, it's not safe for a woman like you to be out alone at this hour.”

“A woman like me?”

“Yeah. In my experience, beautiful women like you tend to meet troublesome men, who then try to take advantage of them.” He smiled at you amusingly.

“Oh, is that so? And you thought, what, that you'd come and save a damsel in distress?” You got up to leave. “I can take care of myself.”

“Y/N, please. Stay for a drink.”

“Already had a drink.” You answered him curtly.

“Well, humor me. I can see there's something bothering you.” He ordered new drinks, one for you, too and it would've been impolite to not accept it. That's how you tried to convince yourself, even though you were pretty sure he would've just drank it himself, if you would've declined.

He pushed a glass towards you as you sat back down. “As an apology.” You laughed wryly at his gesture. “I would actually like a real apology as an apology.” You then squared your shoulders and looked directly at him.

You could see him tense up, as if saying three little words would somehow now break him. You didn't want to let him see how intimidating he actually was to you. You had already seen what he had been through, but at the same time you were well aware of the atrocities he was accused of and what he was actually capable of doing. In every sense possible, Ben was a dangerous man. And now you were calling him out to apologize to you, knowing very well that if anything sets him off the wrong way, he could blow up the bar and half of the block with it. Your heart was almost jumping out of your throat when the two of you kept staring at each other in silence.

You saw his jaw slack. “Fine.” He gritted through his teeth. “I'm sorry."

After practically pulling these words out of him, you decided you were not going to accept them this easily. “For what exactly?” Your head was turned to the side as you squinted at him quizzically.

“Oh, come on! Really? I said I was sorry!” He fell back in his chair.

“Yes, really! I'm not going to accept some half-assed apology after I had to drag it out from you!”

Ben leaned in on the chair and took one of your hands into his. He probably heard how hard your heart was beating at his move, given that little smirk on his lips which disappeared quickly.

You wanted to believe. For the sake of your own heart, you wanted to believe that Ben was actually a good man, because you started to get scared of where you were heading with your scaringly, stupidly fast developing feelings. You hadn't even had a proper conversation before other than the one you just had.

“I really am sorry for assaulting you. I... I was completely out of my head and…I think high, too” He seemed to be genuinely sorry. “...and unfortunately you got caught in the way.” He squeezed your hand assuringly.

You bit your cheek and you were torn. Your mind was screaming ‘run and don't look back’, but in your heart there was a gaping loneliness. And that loneliness spoke louder. ‘Just give in. Give in to what you want and tell it to him. You just might have a chance of happiness.’

“You know, I can not tell you to trust me. Not after what I did. I can't make you believe that I've changed. That has to be your own judgment call. And I know I haven't really given you much to look for the positive in me and for that, I am sorry, too.”

You didn't know what to answer him. It was like he was reading your mind. He let go of your hand and raised both glasses. You took one from him, silently accepting the apology. You both finished your drinks in silence, before Ben started to talk again.

“So...Who pissed in your Cheerios?” He leaned forward on the table.

“What do you mean? Other than wanting you to apologize to me, I'm fine.” You tried to brush it off.

“Well, don't get me wrong, doll, but you don't exactly look the type to go to bars on Tuesday evenings. Alone. Yet here you are.”

You downed the last sip and raised a finger to stop Ben from ordering more. You winced a bit, still not getting quite used to the burn. “None for me, thanks.”

“Well, suit yourself.” And he ordered himself a new one. You were debating in your head on how much you really wanted to let him in.

“Will you tell me? Or will we just consider this night to be over?” He asked again.

“It’s just some work stuff.” You said then quietly.

“What about it?” He seemed to really want to know. You didn't understand him at all anymore. On Saturday he didn't even apologize to you for his attack and then made some vile comments that totally had started to mess with your head, and now he is showing interest in your work.

“Why do you care? Why are you so nice to me all of sudden?” You snapped, maybe a little too harshly even, but it was hard for you to keep it in. Ben raised his hands up. “Relax, okay? It's not that I've started to ‘care’. I just..” he scratched his beard, trying to find the words.

“You just what, Ben? You are honestly giving me fucking whiplash with how you have acted after…after that night.” You finished with a shaky voice and crossed your arms on your chest, but you weren't quiet for long. “Not to mention all that crap in the kitchen. And now you are here, let me rephrase it- you followed me here,” you corrected yourself. “And you are asking now ‘who pissed in your Cheerios?’” you made your voice low, comically imitating his. “Well, I guess you did, Ben. So why are you really here?”

“I..” he took a deep breath in. “I'm just trying to be nicer, okay? You don't...” he rubbed his palm over his eyes and beard, as you continued staring at him frowningly. “You have no idea what these last two nights have done to me.” Ben said quietly, voice heavy with what was for him a new, unfamiliar feeling of genuine gratitude. “After you've left, I've been able to fall back asleep, without those nightmares and…it's clear to me that you have not.”

You weren't going to lie to him that it was nothing. Because it was not. You had never expected to be so affected by him. By his pain. And you really were tired. You stared at your hands on the table noticing how you’ve unknowingly started to pick on your nail polish, seeing it chipped on the edges. Maybe you chose wrong, but it was either him or you. “That's why I came in the first place. To help you, Ben. That's what I do.”

“But that's the thing. You help me, but that shouldn't come from your account. And don't get me wrong, I've been needing good sleep for quite some time, because after that..” he left a little pause. “...chamber, all that there's been for me, are just those nightmares, but you don't deserve to go through that for me.”

“How else would I be able to help you then? You didn’t deserve it either.”

“What do you know of what I deserve?” An insincere smile creeped on his lips. “And why should you even help me? You don't know what I've done. Or what I'm capable of doing.” Ben hinted, leaning towards you over the table. You weren't sure if it was one of his scare tactics, but you refused to back down.

"Because of what you just said to me! You told me you've changed. And I've seen what they did to you. I'm not believing for a second that it was all justified.” You reached over the table for his hand. You knew how naive you must’ve sounded. “Deep down you know yourself that you're not a bad person. If you were, if you didn't just care about anyone, you wouldn't have come looking for me. And I should help you, just because I can.” You weren't really sure whether you tried to convince him or yourself.

He pulled away his hand and quickly stood up. “Don't give me that crap!” Suddenly agitated again, he stomped out of the bar. With a heavy sigh you pulled out a few bills for the tab and followed him out.

You didn't see him outside the bar and had no idea if he went home or not, but that's where you were headed.

It was only just a little after midnight when you got home, but Ben was nowhere to be seen. At least I'll be able to sleep peacefully tonight. You thought spitefully and regretted it immediately.

Karma's a bitch indeed. You thought while laying sleepless in your bed, contemplating everything that had happened in the past week.

First of all - the night you first met Soldier Boy. That’s who he was then, before you got to know him. Before he became “Ben” to you. You’ve just seen some glimpses of his past, that’s all. But now he still has claimed a special spot in your mind, even after what he did.

You really didn’t know him at all before all this happened. Just what you’ve seen being published by Vought to the masses. And you always knew to take their words with a grain of salt.

Secondly, you weren’t sure whether to believe his own words either. He was so sure that he did not deserve your help from his night terrors. And you didn’t even know why, but for some reason that crushed you. Maybe you had just fallen for his charm, without a second thought, but his certainty of being so sure of that had to come from somewhere. Somewhere much deeper and you hoped to have a chance to find it out.

But what came as the biggest realization, was what you finally understood about yourself. You had been alone since childhood, only found your friends when you were in college, and the closest who had stayed even after graduating was Harvey. Only now you were mostly just coworkers to each other.

Being alone had made your skin thick, and you learnt to suppress your emotions well. That was the reason why you were so good at your job- you just couldn’t allow yourself to get too emotionally attached to the cases, because you have had the first hand view of good attorneys making grave mistakes, when they’ve gotten influenced by the cases or clients. And now, after years of shutting down your feelings, you know why helping Ben was so important for you. Even his pain made you feel something, and you were more than glad to find out that your heart hadn’t turned completely into stone yet.

You decided there was no point for you to just lay there in bed, so you thought you'd get up and just go to work early. At least that would make you feel useful. Sitting in the kitchen, drinking your coffee you felt eerily weird knowing that you were alone again. You hadn't heard Ben come home during the night and when you woke up, stopping at his door, you didn’t hear his snoring too.

For the whole day you had a gnawing feeling inside. The conversation you and Ben had felt far from finished when he left the bar last night. You weren't sure if he's going to be home in the evening too. Home. You let out a short chuckle staring at your computer screen. It felt funny to think of it as home. You had been there less than a week. This wasn't your home. Not really. But somehow you already got attached to the place, or rather your roommate and you weren't sure how to feel about it.

Few hours later you felt your eyes growing tired and everything started to get hazy. You had been staring at the computer screen far too long and when you were satisfied with what you got done today so after getting the final case files revised, you counted the work day ended.

Standing in front of the apartment building you were once again cursing its existence. Getting down the stairs was easy, but after work climbing up them was the worst imaginable thing for you. Sure, it was good for your health. Cardio and whatnot. You never have time to go to the gym anyway. You just couldn't wait to get used to them. Until then you had no shame in taking off your heels and taking the stairs in stockings. The feeling you got was indescribable, making you let out a sigh of relief.

You fumbled with your keys to open the door, only to discover that Ben had it chained up from the inside. “Oh, come on, Ben! Open the door!” You called in from the cracked door, before closing it. But he didn't came to the door and it felt like it was straight out of some comedy - you, locked out of the apartment, without shoes like some crazy person and of course, of course, in that moment the neighbors happened to come out of their apartment as you were pounding on the door for Ben to let you in. “Open up! Oh- sorry!” You smiled at them apologetically and stepped out of their way to let them past you.

“Alright, alright, stop with the banging! I'm coming.” You heard his muffled grumpy voice through the door.

“Finally…” you mumbled to yourself.

When Ben opened the door you just glared at him for a second. “Why do you, of all people, need to chain the door from the inside?” You pushed past him into the room.

A barely hearable “oh” was all that left your lips when your eyes stopped on the bottle of lotion and a tissue box on the living room table. Suddenly you felt very grateful for him locking up the door.

“So this is what you do when I'm at work? Must be..” you made your eyes exaggeratingly big, even though he didn't see it. “..exciting.”

“It was, yes.” He was already in the kitchen, pouring himself a drink. “Would have been even more so, if I would've been able to finish just now.” He came back to the room, a big smile on his lips and handed you a glass as well and waved at the couch. “Sit.”

You frowned, looking down at the couch too. “Do I want to?”

“Don't be such a prude.”

You rolled your eyes at him and took a seat. “I'm not a prude.” You mumbled quietly into the glass as you started to drink.

You tried to relax next to him, but in his presence you now felt an awkward silence fall between you and Ben.

Anxiety started to slowly rise in your chest thinking about the conversation ahead of you.

“So, Ben. Did you want to talk or were you just waiting for me to spend some quality time together?”

“Yeah, I was just waiting for you,” he answered. “Because you are such a joy to be around.”

Rolling your eyes, you swirled the amber gold liquid in your glass, and shifted in your seat to turn more towards Ben. “Shoot.”

“You know, you don't have to do this, right?”

Here we go again. About how he doesn't deserve my help. You sighed, waiting for him to continue.

“I'm serious. You can just leave. You should've left after the first night. Why are you putting yourself through this?”

“Because I want to help you."

Ben laughed at your words. “Now you want to help me? You didn't seem so keen on doing that when you first saw me.”

“Well, excuse me! I'd like to think my first reaction seeing you was totally justified, considering that you literally tried to kill me a few nights prior.”

“So what changed? Why are you torturing yourself with me?”

“You wouldn't understand. I–” you clamped up and finished your drink instead.

He snorted beside you. “Try me. I'm smarter than I look.” But without another word you got up from the couch and went to the kitchen to grab the whiskey bottle.

“It's just…” you looked at him quickly as you topped up your glass. His eyes were focused on you, indicating he was actually interested in hearing what you had to share.

“It's just that for most of my life I have been alone. Of course I only found that out later, but I was supposedly one of the first babies who got some new experimental version of the Compound V. They found me in some orphanage, where I was quite literally dumped at, so probably they thought ‘perfect, no one will miss her, let's fuck her up’.”

You emptied half of your glass. You even surprised yourself with how easily your story flowed out of you. This is the first time you ever talked about it. Something about him just made you feel safe enough to finally do it.

“I was kept in for a few years, for all kinds of tests and stuff, but when they thought that the V didn't work on me, I was once again thrown onto the streets. Hadn't one of the workers saved me, I probably wouldn't have seen double digits even.”

Thinking back to your childhood, you started to feel your eyes watering. Feeling silly about crying at that, you chuckled, before taking in another sip.

“Sounds like a happy ending, right? Well for me it was out of the frying pan, straight into the fire. For a little while everything was good. Then one day it started to seem like even just me waking up in the morning was an immediate day ruined for my mom. Being belittled and scolded by her became a daily occurrence for me. And if I dared to make a sound then I'd get the belt. “A failure” she used to call me. And that's just what I was. A failed fucking science experiment.”

You sniffled, sipping the whiskey and relishing in the burn it left in your throat, taking the attention from the pain that suddenly filled your heart. “But I pushed through it all. Until she died, when I was in senior year in high school.”

You tried to laugh through the tears. “I get a feeling you didn't ask for my whole life story, but that's what you're getting now.” You exhaled slowly and cleared your throat before continuing. “Well, even when she wasn't that nice or caring towards me when she was raising me, it was still just me and her. And apparently she cared a lot more than just a little, since after her death I found out she left me her apartment and an inheritance big enough to help me start college and gave me a little more time to find a job. And for that I have to be grateful, because I wouldn’t be here without her.”

“When did your powers show?” Ben finally asked. You were almost certain he had fallen asleep, but no, he was still listening. You dried your tears with the sleeve of your shirt.

“Jesus, woman, take a tissue.” Ben awkwardly offered you the tissue box from the table and your eyes went big seeing his gesture, but smiled at him, pulling a few out of the box.

“Uhh...thanks..It was in college. Sophomore year I think. Don't really remember how they started then. And I never told anyone, not even Harvey, who was my best friend then. Now it feels like we only speak to each other, because we work together.” You were feeling a little lighter to be able to get this off your mind. “Anyways, you wanted to know why I want to help you?”

You smiled at Ben, and saw his eyes softening just a little, but he was still clearly uncomfortable by your crying. “Yeah.” It was weird having him being so nice with you.

“Well, growing up like I did, I learned to close up all my emotions. With the job I have, I can't allow myself to make errors because I've gotten too attached to a client or a case. That's against not only my personal morals, but also the company's ethics, because in the end it would only end up with me screwing up my work. I can't afford that. How is it all connected to you? Well…” you looked directly at him. “This sounds so horrible, but even just feeling your pain makes me glad that everything I've gone through hasn't turned me into a senseless zombie yet. At least the pain is something.” You laughed humorlessly, feeling glad to see your little breakdown passing.

He remained quiet, visibly in thought and you couldn't even take a guess what was going on in his head.

For a while both of you drank in silence. Of course Ben did most of the job with emptying the bottle, you couldn't possibly outdrink him, but you didn't fall far behind and you knew already that you were fucked at tomorrow’s meeting. Figuratively. Sadly.

You had to give him some credit. He definitely wasn't wrong when he accused your moodiness with being too long without getting laid. The question was now if his offer to help you was still standing, but you didn't want to seem too desperate by just asking him to fuck you. Trying to get your mind off him, you decided to grab a new bottle from the fridge and ditched your glass, drinking it directly from the bottle. Ben seemed a little surprised for a second but accepted the bottle when you offered it to him.

“What is this shit?” He grimaced after taking a big sip from the bottle, and looked at the label, furrowing his brows. “Honey Whiskey.” You held back your laugh, seeing his face and added innocently, without revealing that this is what you usually drink. You just can't help it, you like your alcohol sweet. “They didn't have anything else.” He only rolled his eyes at you, and made a little face before drinking again.

“So what about you, Ben?” You asked as your eyes relaxed on Ben's lips, coming off the bottle with a drop of whiskey on them. His tongue quickly darted out to lick it up, but it seemed to happen in slow-motion and you desperately wished you could've been brave enough to do it yourself. To taste the sweetness on his lips. Instead you wet your own drying lips from the sight of him, before he looked at you. He caught you staring and his green eyes held you locked with a burning gaze for a minute. Coughing awkwardly, you quickly turned your eyes down from him.

“What about me?” He finally asked, scoffing at seeing you shy away.

“Why are you so convinced that you are so undeserving of my help?”

“Well, didn't you hear? I was a fucking menace to my team.” He chuckled darkly and handed the bottle over to you. “Apparently so much that they saw the need to get rid of me. Well, fuck them..” he laughed slowly. “They all got what they deserved.”

You didn't have to think twice about what he was implying, but you were wondering whether to raise the topic of why tried to kill you. You decided to not bring it up. He did say he was high then.

“And you think that this is the reason why you're not worth my help?"

“No, I-I just am not..” he grabbed the bottle from your hands. “I've done a lot of batshit crazy stuff in the past. Being honest now, not even half the crap that Vought has pinned on me, but that doesn't make it any better, does it?”

“Well, tell me one thing, Ben.” You scooted across the couch a little bit closer to him. “You told me yesterday you're a "changed man". If you had the chance, would you do it again? All that payback on Payback?”

“What are you now? My shrink?” He looked down on you, almost condescendingly, and sitting next to him made you feel so small. You couldn't push away the thoughts of asking him to have his way with you. You blamed it on the alcohol. It didn't help you relax at all, it only managed to make you horny.

“No, not that..” you said slowly, trying to get your mind out of the gutter, but with no effect. “Just trying to make up my mind on you, I guess.”

“What's the point of speculating on that then? If I say yes, would that change your current opinion on me?”

You looked up at him. “As you said yesterday, you're leaving it up to me to make my mind up on you. So, probably no, it wouldn't change it. I still think you didn't deserve what happened to you and I'd want to help you.”

You took the bottle from him to finish it off. “But you know, if you're fine with the nightmares, you can always lock your bedroom door. Message received loud and clear. Your decision, that's all.” You simply shrugged and got up from the couch.

“I'm off to bed.” You decided to end the night right there, before you did anything you'd probably come to regret in the morning. “Good night, Ben.”

“Night.” He mumbled under his breath and you heard him crush a pill with a glass, followed by a snort.

After your quick night routine, you got into your comfy shorts and top for sleep and tied your hair into a bun. Laying down in bed you rolled from side to side, unable to find a comfortable position. For over an hour you tried to fall asleep, getting more and more annoyed by the familiar ache for release keeping you from it. You had to do something for it and you hoped to God that Ben wouldn't hear you.

You reached for the drawer on your left and pulled out your good old reliable vibrator. You were damn glad that you decided to pack it up. It was nothing fancy, but in the last desperation, it got its job done well. It had been quite a while since you've used it and you were hoping it would not fail you now.

You quickly discarded your pants, threw them over the edge onto the floor. Your fingers slipped easily through the slick that had drenched your underwear. He didn't even do anything to me. How the fuck am I so wet already?

Your mind was racing when you started to slowly rub your clit. You quickly fell into a familiar rhythm with your fingers, despite it being a long time since you've last masturbated. Pleasuring yourself for a while, you felt the tension starting to build deep in your core, but the release seemed still miles away. It had been too fucking long for you and even now you knew you couldn't get yourself off with just your fingers. You needed more.

You grabbed the vibrator from the bed and slid it up against your clit before turning it on the slowest speed. Your hips bucked involuntarily when the low hum filled the room. The sweet tingling sensation against your bud quickly became almost overbearing.

You were just about to slide it in, when a knock on your door brought you out of your growing bliss.

“Sugar, if you're only relying on that plastic stick to get you off, then I'm honestly not surprised you're so pent up.” Your pussy quivered involuntarily when you heard his low rumble from the other side of the door.

You sat up in bed, trying to slow your breathing. “Leave me alone!” You couldn't bring yourself to tell him to take the toy’s place, that was still turned on in your hands, even though that's what you were imagining.

“Oh, no, sweetheart, I'm coming in.” You saw the door open.

“Ben! What the fuck? No!” You yelled at him as you tried to cover yourself in a hurry, but with no luck because before you got under the covers, Ben's large frame was already in your doorway.

To Be Continued »»» Part 2

Taglist: @jackles010378 @nescavaneck @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @winchesterwild78 @anundyingfidelity @suckitands33 @waynes-multiverse

Thank you for reading! Feedback is appreciated!🤍

[tadpolesonalgae]

Up The Junction

ModernYA!Azriel x reader

a/n: set circa 2008, England :) also, this is heavily inspired by Up The Junction by Squeeze if you want to give that a cheeky listen 🧡💛

warnings: angst, smut -> pregnancy, slightly bittersweet ending but I think they’re happy :)

Word count: 7,194

——————————————————————————————————————————————

“Will you marry me?”

Your jaw drops open, hands flying to your mouth as you nearly stumble back a step.

He’s down on one knee, presenting a slim, golden band in a simple velvet box, hazel eyes intent and nervous. Slightly jittery as his chest rises and falls.

Your lower lip wobbles, vision blurring, small sobs already wracking your chest. He waits patiently, anxiously, as you try to get the words out, pushing tears away, wiping your nose as you sniffle.

“Yes…!” You cry. “Yes! A thousand times yes!”

Relief sweeps through his body, and he’s wrapping you up in his arms, raising you into the air as he swings you around before lowering you again to the floor, pulling you tight. You cry harder, trying to wipe your nose on the scratchy cuff of your navy jumper, thankful you’d decided to put that wash on a few days ago.

“I promise I’ll be good to you,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion, and you squeeze into him tighter. “You won’t regret it,” he swears, managing to pull away long enough to cup your jaw, pressing a kiss to your tear-stained cheek. “I’d never regret it,” you mumble out, still sobbing heavily, trembling with happiness and that rush of joy. Your whole lives together. That feeling of wanting it to be always; forever—requited.

“I’ll be a good husband to you,” he murmurs thickly, gently holding your hand in his larger one, pulling away long enough to slide the thin band around your ring finger.

Fresh tears drip down your cheeks as you raise it up to the watery sunlight, crying at what it symbolises. “I’ll make a good wife, Az,” you manage, turning to look at him with a wide, wobbly smile on your lips. “We’ll make this work. Together.”

Hazel eyes gleam, able to see your reflection in their glassy surface as he nods, still holding you close. “Together.”

—

You’d moved in together after college, happy and engaged, feeling on top of the world. Like nothing could get you down.

You were going to spend your lives together, how could you ever be sad?

It was tricky in places, but you’d found someone renting their garage, a basement attached, fully equipped with a bathroom, working plumbing, and an in-built kitchen. Sure, it was tight, but it was affordable, and most importantly, temporary. It was okay to start small, to build your way up to a family. Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all.

The basement was dingy, one small window in the far wall of the open-plan room, the bed pushed into the corner beneath it. A sink was along the other wall leading to the door, some counter space available along with a washing machine, hob, and oven. The fridge was kept at the far end of the raised surfaces, adjacent to the bed, squeezed in to fit.

The only slight problem was washing. The bathroom was tiny, the only private space in the basement, hidden behind a waterproof curtain in swimming-pool blue, containing a sink and toilet. No shower or bath. You’d have to hand wash.

But it was fine. The two of you couldn’t be happier living together, having your own space and privacy. A place to start building your home.

It took a while to get on your feet after graduation, but Az had managed to get a job in IT, working to keep things functioning at a local law firm, while you managed to snag a spot as a receptionist at a nearby motel. The hours were difficult, with your shifts constantly being moved around, sometimes working double over a day, sometimes called to be in overnight, switching out at two in the morning to make your way back to the cramped basement.

Azriel’s hours were set, but they were long and tiring, often he would get back exhausted, having to explain the same thing over and over to big-wigs who couldn’t care less about how specialised he was in his area of expertise.

A year later, and you’d gathered enough savings to buy a computer, so Az would be able to work from home in the events of…something happening.

That talk had been had late one night, after he’d gotten back from his shift and you were headed out for your own, how it might be a good idea to start thinking about what the future will hold. Who else might be joining your lives. The conversation had ended with a giddy smile on your face, Az’s eyes practically glowing with happiness, the dimple at the edge of his mouth making its rare appearance at the possibility of a future baby.

And now that safety net was in place, the hunky piece of equipment having taken up a valuable spot of counter space, a bar stool bought so he’d be able to work.

You’d become more relaxed after that. A air of electricity between you, charged and excited, yet neither of you dared address that elephant in the room. The shared desire neither of you had the courage to yet voice. Confined to the dark hours where naked bodies would press together, and he’d go slower, rolling his hips deeper, more tenderly that you were accustomed to, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was you were together, together and in love. So intense it was like wildfire.

The first time that subject had been broached was entirely accidental. He’d been kissing down your throat, your nipples sore from the attention of his touch and teeth, hands gripping your hips firmly with your thighs spread apart. You’d both been so near that edge, shared heat passing between you when he’d brushed a spot inside of you, having you squeeze him so deliciously.

“Fuck,” he’d panted, skin flushed with colour, inky hair flopping over his brow, swept across to one side, curling at its ends from sweat. “So fucking good,” he’d praised, bucking his hips, angling so he’d hit that spot again. “Gonna knock you up. Fill you to the brim.” The orgasm had found you right then and there, crying out as you came, fluttering around him, mumbling how badly you wanted him to take the condom off, to finish inside of you.

It had been the morning after the two of you had finally sat down and discussed those secret thoughts, all you’d needed was the others confirmation, and you were ready. It could take a while to conceive, and you wanted to take action before your fertility began decreasing, chances slipping away.

The process had been draining, with you taking a test each month, wondering if that time would be different, if maybe this time he’d taken root inside of you, instead of your cycle being late. But the cramps started again and again, kicking in a mere few days after you having taken the test, as if to spite you. And each time he’d comfort you, wrapping you in his arms when you opened the the small curtain, shaking your head sadly, with him reminding you there’s still time. You’re in no hurry to conceive; this is why it was good you’d started early. You had more leeway.

But then it had been two years since you’d initially gotten engaged, and still no signs of life.

It wasn’t as if he was lacking either. He was thorough in his attention, making sure to keep his hips pressed tight with your own in the minutes after you’d both found completion, keeping release tucked away inside of you.

Slowly, you began worrying—if it wasn’t him, it had to be you.

So you’d made an appointment, searching for any kind of sign to continue trying. There’s be no point if you really were infertile. What could you do then? How could you build a family if your body was wrecked irreparably. But there had been nothing wrong with you that the doctor could find, so you’d gone home, lost and confused. Why wasn’t anything happening?

Azriel had suggested maybe it was hormones—neither of you could deny you were stressing over the lack of development. You weren’t seeing friends as frequently anymore either. In fact, it had been weeks since you’d last hung out with anyone other than your fiancé, so a trip had been arranged. It had been messy, with constantly changing plans, but eventually you settled on a day. Az, Rhys, Cass, and Nesta would be heading to the theatres, while you, Feyre, and Elain spent a girls day together—likely shopping, listening to music, preparing a dinner for when the others returned.

Your own plans aside, most of the confusion had centred on Az’s end, struggling to find a film they’d all be happy to watch. The decisions had been so tiring and seemingly so endless they’d decided to split and see two separate ones instead—much to Cassian’s grumpiness. Az and Rhys would get to see The Dark Knight—a movie you know he’s secretly been desperate to see ever since the villain’s actor’s unfortunate passing earlier that year. Meanwhile Nesta would be dragging her boyfriend to a film adaptation of a book series she’d been subtly obsessed with for years—Twilight.

The day came, and you had kissed your fiancé on the cheek before heading out, making your way to the bus stop to take you to Feyre and Rhys’ place, where the three of you would be spending most of your time. It had been good getting to see the two of them again. It almost felt like you were back in college, chatting away in the cafeteria, slouched on sofas while the radio blasted out whatever was in the charts.

All three of you had gotten into their truck, Elain the only one with a licence so she took the wheel while driving you to the shopping centre. It was all so exciting! It really had been so long since you’d done something like this, having taken out some money beforehand as a precaution, in case you saw something you really liked. Az had insisted, despite the tight budget you managed to make work.

Elain had grabbed a large ceramic mug, small flowers growing up the sides, while you and Feyre had taken an interest in a pretty pair of ruby red heels, the silver buckle contrasting with the popping colour. There was no way you’d be able to afford them, but it didn’t stop you from dreaming, nor did it stop you from encouraging Feyre to buy them, seeing how her eyes twinkled, her mouth pulling up into a wide smile as you spoke about what to wear with them.

Eventually though, the two of you had left the storefront, finished ogling, Feyre having ultimately decided to leave them be. You couldn’t help feel she knew you wanted them, but were unable to buy them, choosing to move on and pick something else—a matching mug with her sister, insisting on grabbing another for you and a forth for their older sister. If it hadn’t been for the black mug with a howling wolf on the side they’d insisted on getting for Nesta, you wouldn’t have accepted their gift. Though that’s likely why they did it in the first place.

The day came and went, cheeks aching from smiling all day, your new mug kept in your bag, precious and exciting, your heart skipping each time you subtly peeked down to catch a gleam of the glazed surface.

Az, Rhys, Cass, and Nesta had gotten back later as you’d anticipated, and while she made no explicit comment about the film, she’d had an excited air about her, Cassian keeping his arm wrapped around her the rest of the night. Az had given you a happy smile, dropping a kiss to your forehead, asking how your day went, and you’d mentioned the heels before you’d proudly shown him the mug in the privacy of the hallway of Rhys and Feyre’s home. Carefully leaving out the gift part. It had been an act of kindness on their end, and you knew Az would insist on paying one of them back if he knew, so you kept it as your secret.

—

Life resumed its normal pace, but you were feeling happier, more uplifted since having gotten out of the cramped and slightly smelly basement, spirits raised from spending a day with your friends.

And then a few months later, you’d missed your cycle.

You’d hardly dared hope, having rushed to a nearby pharmacy to purchase three tests, shakily handing over the money before hurrying home and drawing the swimming-pool shower curtain to a close to give yourself some privacy.

Az had gotten back a while later, calling out for you as soon as he’d stepped foot in the basement, but had been greeted with silence. Then quiet sobs coming from the bathroom.

You remember it so clearly. How he’d hurriedly strode over to the small washroom, calling out for you, making sure you were okay, concern heavy in his voice. It had been then you’d appeared, a positive pregnancy test held preciously between shaky fingers.

“You’re—…” His eyes had started gleaming then, hot and wet, and he’d wrapped you up in his arms, your feet raising off the ground and he lifted you up, your hands locking over his shoulders as you’d managed a tearful nod. “It’s happening, Az,” you’d cried softly, sniffling, wiping your nose on the worn sleeve of your top. “We’re going to have a baby. It’s really happening.”

He’d squeezed you tighter, before setting you down on the floor, hands lightly gripping your upper arms as you pushed wetness from your cheeks. You hadn’t cried like this since your engagement.

“And you’re sure this is what you want?” He’d asked, brows curved as he searched your face. “You’re happy with this?”

A fresh wave of tears had started all over again, a croaky laugh creaking from your throat as you’d nodded. “Over the moon, Az.”

—

The pace had changed all over again, and you’d noticed how he kept the fridge fully stocked, even if it strained on your budget. More expensive foods had made their appearance, no longer cheaping out to scrape by. If you were eating for two, Az had reasoned, he wanted you to be as well-fed as possible. A good diet was important, and you needed more than pasta with the occasional vegetable cooked in.

It wasn’t soon after that you’d noticed the coffee smell fading from his shirts, becoming fainter and fainter after each big clean. When you’d brought it up to him however, he hadn’t minded, reasoning he’d been needing to drink less of it anyway, and now was as good a time as any to start waning off it.

Parenting books had begun cropping up around the place, briefly making an appearance beside his robust computer before being read thoroughly, and returned to the library, moving onto the next one. You couldn’t help how your lips tugged upward at the edges each time a new title appeared, glancing down at your stomach, no noticeable bump yet showing. Though that never stopped either of you from laying hands over your abdomen, pressing close, treasuring the gift.

You’d told your parents, and Az had broken the news to your friends, and you couldn’t have been happier. Finally, three years into your engagement, things were coming together. Hard work paying off.

He’d been trying to get you to rest more often, but you knew you couldn’t afford to take time off before your maternity leave started. Money was still tight, and you savoured every cheque you received, steadily adding to your savings pound by pound. You knew Az had been working overtime more often, taking every chance he could to bring in some extra cash—every little counted now, and you both knew it.

The evenings you had alone together grew further and further apart though, and while you tried not to fret, you missed spending time with him. Eating together, lounging atop a lumpy mattress before sleep, one of you washing the dishes while the other dried and put away.

But routine had shifted: more frequently you would cook, eat supper, and leave his in the oven to keep it warm for when he eventually made it back. It wasn’t everything, but physical intimacies were rarer too, having a few minutes of conversation and hugging, before he was passed out. In those moments guilt weighted in your gut—he was working himself to the bone, the slight darkness he’d always had beneath his eyes becoming more pronounced as the weeks had worn on.

At one point you’d begun timing your schedule with Feyre’s, catching the bus over to her place whenever she had a gap in her shifts—usually a Wednesday, sometimes a Thursday. Weekends had still been precious though, when Az would be back by five instead of ten or eleven, and Sundays when he wouldn’t be working at all.

Between chatting about your lives, future plans, where you’d like to go on holiday to, the topic pf your baby had come up. It had been a surreal experience, but you’d crumbled a little, admitting how much you were missing him. Feyre had sat quietly and listened to every confession, nursing her tea, contained in one of the matching mugs.

“He isn’t around as much, Fey,” you manage, peering into your tea, tucked up on one of her sofas. “He’s running himself ragged, and I don’t know what to do. It’s dark when he leaves and it’s dark when he returns. He leaves early and comes home late, and I know we…it’s difficult…but I need him,” you admit softly. “I need him to be around, so we can do this together.”

Tears had splashed into your tea then, and you’d both discarded your mugs as she’d shuffled closer, arms wrapping around you as you’d cried into the soft cashmere of her jumper. “Am I being selfish?” You’d mumbled out, throat aching from how you were trying to be quiet. “I know he’s doing it for us, but, I just…”

“You aren’t selfish,” she’d whispered, hand stroking up and down over your back. “It’s difficult, like you said. But it will pass, remember? It’s a difficult patch in your life, but you have to trust it will pass. Things will get better.”

You’d sniffled, nodding into her shoulder, pulling back to dry your teary eyes. Guilt tightening around your throat, constricting across your chest as you felt your heart throb with strain.

“You can always come round here, too,” she’d reminded gently. “If you need to get out, I can move some things around, okay? You’re not alone. I know you’re head over heels for one another, but you’ve got us, too. Whenever you need us.”

The sobs had started afresh, but you managed a wobbly smile, playing with the golden band on your finger—an anxious habit you’d fallen into.

“Thanks, Fey.”

—

Christmas had rolled around, and it was the first time in months—years—you’d all been in the same place at once.

Mor had made it back from the states, Amren joining her on the trip back to meet up with everyone and celebrate.

Rhys and Feyre had hosted, and you couldn’t help but hope this would become a tradition of sorts. You’d missed them all acutely, easy days of college long in the past.

You’d all chipped in one way or another, and an agreement had been made to not do presents all around this year. Just spending time with another, with gifts permitted to be exchanged between couples.

The night had started, and straight off the bat you’d noticed the absence of any sort of alcohol, the sharp scent surprisingly noticeable in its absence, and your heart warmed at the thoughtfulness. You kept tight to Az most of the night, treasuring the minutes you spent together with him, and from the way his arm remained around you in some way, you got an inkling the distance might have been waring on him, too. More than you had thought.

Food was put together, and you’d taken the time to appreciate the scents, how much there was to consume—there’d definitely be leftovers. Pudding was brought out, non-alcoholic fruit cake, as well as some biscuits and other little treats.

Then the small gifts made their appearance, and you’d handed Az the small parcel you’d snuck into your bag earlier that night. He’d given an inquisitive look, a suspicious smile curving his mouth, but you’d grinned, nodding your head for him to hurry up and open it. His brows had risen in surprise when he saw the small guitar picks inside, coloured black, blue, and grey, then one with a flaming skull on.

Hazel had practically glowed as he’d smiled, pulling you tight, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. There hadn’t been much time for him to play in recent years, but you’d noticed how his eyes would sometimes flick to the discarded instrument, kept sealed away, leaned against the grey walls of the basement.

“Thank you,” he’d murmured, pulling away to look at you, before pressing another kiss to your forehead. “I hope you get more time to play this year,” you’d whispered back, hands greedily taking in his heat, memorising his feel while you had the chance.

His throat had rolled, then he’d stepped away, pulling something out from his pocket. “It’s not as good as yours,” he’d admitted thickly, almost nervously, “but I thought you might like it.”

You’d cocked your head, holding your palm out when he’d extended his closed fist, dropping something into your hand. It had been a small bracelet, and a smile had curved your lips when you’d noticed the slightly shoddy clasps, stray thread hanging out on one side. Along the string were some small square beads, the type with letters on you could purchase at a craft store, and you held the bracelet up to read the tiny name he’d spelled out.

“Mama bear?” You read aloud, eyes gleaming with heat as your mouth had stretched wide, a grin broadening your lips as you had beamed up at your fiancé with unabashed adoration. A relieved smile had played on his mouth then, nodding his head, affection clear on his features. “For the strongest person I know,” he’d whispered, hazel eyes soft at the edges.

You’d laughed then, shaking your head, but he’d kept that smile on his mouth, like he could see something you couldn’t, until you’d lightly patted him on his arm, telling him to stop spewing nonsense.

A gasp had drawn your attention away from him, turning to see Feyre opening what looked like a neatly wrapped shoe box, and you could make out the shock on her face. Your smile had broadened, happy she’s happy—Rhys was usually good when getting her presents, a twinge of joy that she’s also found someone who cared so deeply for her.

“What d’you get?” You’d asked, keeping tucked into Az’s side.

Panicked eyes had flitted to you before she covered it up, smiling as she shook her head, as if to say ‘oh, Rhysand’. But then you’d moved forward to see what he’d found for her, and you spotted those ruby heels in the box. Silver buckle gleaming beneath the kitchen lights.

Feyre had stiffened, but a smile had broken across your features, hugging her excitedly. “I’m so happy for you!” You’d whispered as you’d embraced, squeezing her tight and you felt as she began relaxing. Her arms had tentatively squeezed you back, leaning into you. “Thank you,” she’d murmured, before you’d both pulled away, Feyre glancing at your smiling face before reflecting the expression.

She’d pulled back after that, and you’d returned to Az’s side as you watched Feyre hug and kiss Rhys, how he’d smiled like he was the luckiest man in the world, and you couldn’t help the warmth that had spread across your face. You’d glanced up at Az, but his expression was unreadable, hazel eyes watching them intently. The open box on the table.

You’d nudged his side, linking your hand with his, guiding his attention back to you. “Want to get out of here?” You’d whispered, grinning, free palm over your abdomen. He’d swallowed thickly, but pulled together a faint smile, nodding.

The ride home had been quiet. Unusually so.

But sometimes he liked his peace, so you’d been happy to play with the bracelet around your wrist, smiling as you‘d looked out of the window into the dark streets outside.

“Those were the shoes you’d mentioned, weren’t they?” He’d asked into the silence.

You’d stiffened, fingers stuttering over the beads, turning to look at him, but he’d been staring ahead. “They wouldn’t have suited me anyway,” you’d said quietly, trying to push some humour into your voice to comfort him. “When would I have even worn them?”

In the low light you could make out how his jaw had worked. “They were.”

You’d lowered your head, peering down at the bracelet he’d given you. “Yeah.”

There’d been a tense silence, then he’d sighed, running a hand through his hair. “One day,” he’d murmured heavily, nodding to himself. “One day.”

You’d looked at hime again after that, wanting to squeeze his hand. “Together,” you’d added, quietly.

—

Winter had been harsh, and the heating had shut off throughout the basement, though it had been fixed within the week.

You’d kept closer those seven nights, and you’d secretly enjoyed the apparent misfortune. He’d been more attentive during that week, making sure you were kept warm, covering you in various jackets, though neither of you could really afford something tough enough to keep the chill out. But it hadn’t mattered when you were lying together, your back pressed to his front, his arm around your waist, hand settled over the noticeable bump in your stomach.

To this day, you can still remember the first time you’d felt her kick.

How you’d been together in bed, on a cold Sunday morning, and you’d felt something. A few moments later you’d felt it again, and had nearly started crying, gripping for Az’s hand to guide it over your abdomen, excitement glowing in your eyes as your baby had kicked again.

Azriel had smiled wide then, a look of awe on his face, gazing at you before returning his attention to your stomach. You’d watched him then, how his face had lit up each time he’d felt a kick, and that giddiness had warmed you up.

Proud of the father he’d already begun to change into.

—

Eight months in, and morning sickness had been running you thin.

It hadn’t been every morning, but more often than not you’d wake, been allowed a few minutes of peace to enjoy with him, then nausea would be creeping up your throat. You’d give a resigned groan, before rolling (actually rolling) out of bed and wobbling to the toilet to throw up.

Azriel had been there for you at first, holding your hair out of your face, soothing your back, reminding how well you were handling the pregnancy, but as you began staying up later waiting for him to come home, with nothing to do throughout the day, you’d begun sleeping in too. He’d never wanted to wake you—wanting you to have as much rest as possible—so had quietly gotten up and headed off to work before the sun was up, letting you sleep in.

Consequently, you’d be alone through the morning sickness, heaving into the toilet bowl, legs trembling. Sometimes having to spend the first hour of your day changing the sheets after having vomited all over them.

It had been getting harder to cope, without him around. But you knew he was working hard—and you needed the money.

The strain hadn’t been helped when one evening he��d brought the bracelet up. You’d never taken it off, since without a shower or bath, there was no reason to, as a flannel could move around it.

“Did you wear that to work?” He’d asked, when you’d been laying on the bed while he washed and dried the dishes. You were too large to reach at this point, so it made more sense for him to do them. Sound reasoning you had detested as it was just more work for him to do while you lazed around, unable to help or contribute.

“Yup,” you’d replied, smiling again as you’d glanced down at the handmade gift. Your heart had always warmed whenever you read his little message, gradually allowing that possibility to take root. Maybe he really did think you were strong. Maybe you actually were. “Never take it off.”

He hadn’t looked at you as you had anticipated, no smile thrown over his shoulder as he’d continued washing the dishes.

Your brows had narrowed then, worry tightening your throat. “Why?”

Azriel had been silent for a bit, putting the plates away on the drying board. “And your work didn’t mind?” He’d asked. “They didn’t think it was unprofessional? Or distracting?”

“No,” you’d laughed quietly, “they thought it was a wonderful gift, and thoughtful. Nancy complimented it endlessly.” His posture had gone a little rigid, spine stiffening when he moved onto drying. “You showed it to everyone?” He’d asked quietly, and worry had hollowed out your ears. “It’s precious, Az,” you’d replied, “of course I did.”

He’d gone silent then, choosing to focus on rubbing off the water with the dish towel.

“Az?” You’d shifted on the bed, heaving yourself into a more upright position. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he’d replied lightly, carefully putting your special mug aside.

Your chest had tightened, and you’d swallowed thickly before setting your slightly swollen feet on the floor, walking to be beside him. “Az…” you’d murmured, hands wrapping over his forearm, pulling him to a halt as hazel eyes had at last swept over you, dark and exhausted. “Please talk to me,” you’d requested quietly, fingers linking with his damp ones. “What’s bothering you?”

Moments had ticked by, then his eyes had grown hot and wet, brows pulling together as tears had escaped down his cheek. “I’m sorry it was such a shit present,” he’d whispered, hands moving to grip yours when he’d turned to face you fully, crying. “I’m sorry I can’t do more for you. I should’ve gotten you something better, something you deserved.”

Your heart had ached painfully, struggling to keep your own tears at bay, as his head had lowered with shame, hands shaking lightly as he held onto you. He hadn’t needed to bring the shoes up for you to know that’s what it was about. His perceived insufficiency, and inability to care for you.

“Az, I…” You had cut yourself off, trying to choke down tears to comfort and reassure him. He was perfect, how could he ever feel like he wasn’t enough, when he was almost singlehandedly keeping all three of you together and looked after. “Az, I don’t care about presents,” you’d managed, “this?” —you’d nodded to the bracelet— “This I love, because you made it for me. Between all your work, and cooking, and caring, you found the time to make me something I could have on me at all times,” you’d said, tears dripping down your cheeks as you’d stared at one another.

“It’s so important to me, because of you,” you’d cried. “You do so much to look after us, working yourself to the bone… I love you, Az. You’re everything to me. The whole world and more.”

“You don’t—… You don’t regret it?” He’d managed thickly, keeping his hold on your hands. “Being with me?”

You’d shaken your head, trying to get the words out as your throat constricted. “No…no I don’t,” you’d cried, peering up at him. “A thousand times yes, remember?”

His brows had pulled together then, pain gleaming in that swirling cosmos of hazel as he nodded, breathing heavily, leaning over you as his arms had wrapped over your shoulders. You could feel his shudders, your hands gripping the back of his shirt—one of his favourites, a comfort item of sorts, with one of the bands he likes printed on the front.

“I love you, Az,” you’d whispered, shaking together. “I love you for you.”

—

Looking back, things had improved for a bit. Until he’d tried to give more of himself.

That had been when you’d begun crumbling.

He’d pushed himself harder, and had managed to get a part-time job in a car-repair shop, having already been familiar with the maths of engineering and having had a fascination with mechanics when he had been younger.

Just like that, the weekends had been taken too.

He’d leave for work before you woke, stop at six, then help out for a couple of hours after dark, returning when you were asleep. Saturdays and Sundays were no longer spent with him—he’d sold them off. Bargaining his time for your future.

He’d work all day, weekends the busiest as it was when folk with regular nine-to-five jobs would have the time to take their cars round for a checkup, or to be evaluated and told where to go if they were unable to fix the problem. You’d hardly seen him in that final, tiring month of pregnancy.

Would he stop once you gave birth? Somehow you’d begun to doubt it.

You’d admired his conviction, his drive and determination to see something through to the end, until it had ultimately taken him away from you. All when you’d most needed him. No amount of talking had been able to convince him otherwise, so set on being useful. On proving to himself he wasn’t insufficient—that he could look after you.

It had been then that you’d left him. Leaving a sticky note on the oven handle telling him you’d gone to Feyre’s, and that you’d needed space.

And he’d given it.

It hadn’t been unusual to chat through notes, but with his long working hours, you’d treasured the new form of communication. Reading and rereading each one he’d left, memorising his handwriting, the tiny hearts he’d added, or the lopsided smileys he’d doodled before heading out. But that hadn’t been enough for you, so you’d reached for help elsewhere.

A few days had gone by before the landline had rung, your fiancé having become too worried to leave silence for any longer, even if you had requested space. He couldn’t leave you like that.

Not soon after, you’d moved back in with your parents, and the guilt you’d felt when Rhys had offered to be the one to tell Az had nearly had your legs giving out. Shame so crushing you’d felt faint. Especially upon accepting.

God knew you wouldn’t have been able to handle that pressure of explaining it to him. Not when you had been on the verge of giving birth. It would have been any day then, and you’d been under enough stress you’d been worried for the health of the baby.

It had worked out in the end though.

—

The knocker thuds thrice against the hardwood door of your parents house, and you instinctively glance over to little Valerie, but she remains soundly asleep.

Your mother smiles as she passes by, heading for the door since you’re still struggling to walk after being discharged from the hospital on the condition that you rest.

You pull Val closer, wanting to keep her as nearby as possible, the pressure in your chest easing as you look over her, quiet and peaceful—for the moment, at least.

Minutes later your mother returns, a gentle look on her face. “It’s Azriel,” she says hesitantly. “Are you feeling up to speaking with him?” At his name alone you feel your eyes grow hot, but you push the feeling away, glancing down at Val. It’s been five days since you gave birth, and he’s yet to see his daughter in person. He deserves to meet her. So you nod.

Your mother watches silently for a little, before reciprocating the gesture. “Do you want to be alone?”

Your throat rolls, but you manage to answer, “yes…we’ll be okay.” She nods again, before turning to leave, “your father and I needed to get some more shopping in anyway—good a time as any, right?” You smile, before she disappears out of sight, and you breathe deeply, holding Val slightly closer, groaning as you straighten on the sofa.

Footsteps scuff in the hallway, and you brace yourself.

He’s messy tidy. Clearly having made an effort, but unable to conceal the circles beneath his eyes, the exhaustion on his features. Hair a little disheveled, likely from playing with it out of stress as you sometimes used to catch him doing.

“Hey,” you manage, pushing a faint smile to your lips.

Hazel eyes scan you carefully before settling on the bundle in your arms, unable to conceal the emotion that flashes through his face. His throat rolls, raising his gaze to yours. Licking his dry lips. “How are you?” He asks thickly, entering the living room, boots having been discarded at the door.

“Good,” you reply, hoarsely. “Still aching in places, but, you know…”

“Staying strong,” he finishes, voice slightly raw. He nods to himself, “you’ve always been good at that.”

There’s a pause in the conversation, and you look at one another.

Then tears are spilling out from both of you, and you’re trying to hold your sobs in to not disturb Val, while Azriel rubs at his face, trying to get himself under control.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes raggedly, “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that. I just—… I wanted to look after you. I want you to be secure—for us to be secure, but in doing so I left you all alone, and I’m so fucking sorry. I was so stupid.” You sniffle, wiping your nose while trying to dry your cheeks. “Az, it’s fine. I, I get it. You were just trying to—”

“It’s not fine,” he breathes rawly, hand over his face as he rubs his eyes. “You needed me, and I wan’t there. And I can’t make up for that time. Fuck, I shouldn’t have left you like that. I’m so sorry.”

“Az…” you cry softly, trying to cover Val’s ears so she doesn’t wake.

He looks at you, hazel eyes glassy and red rimmed as he tries to pull himself together, to recompose himself for you. “Can you…do you think you can forgive me? I swear I won’t— I’ll never make such a stupid mistake again.”

“Az,” you sob, “I get it. Fuck, it hurt that you left like that, but how can I be mad when you were doing it to look after us?” The tears drip down your face, breathing in wet gasps as you try to pull it back in, wiping away the tears. “Of course I…of course it was difficult, but it came from a good place, Az. I won’t fault you for trying to look after us. I just— I just wish this hadn’t happened now. During the pregnancy, I mean.”

Azriel swallows thickly, grief clear on his face, looking more wrecked than when he’d first entered. “I’ll be better,” he manages quietly, still stood near the doorway, not wanting to impose if you don’t want him there in that moment. His heart simultaneously fractures and heals when he spots that stupid bracelet still kept around your wrist. He wonders if you’ve taken it off since he gave it to you.

“Az…” you sigh, tears still hot on your cheeks, not wanting to say what you have to. He stiffens at the tone, and it feels like you’ve already told him, hazel eyes devastated.

“Az, I think…I need some time.”

He holds completely still, but you’re practically able to see the world falling apart around him.

“It’s not…I don’t think it’s forever, but…for now. I can’t go back there. Into the basement,” you manage, lower lip wobbling, tugging down at the corners. “I’m sorry.”

“What does that mean?” He asks quietly, hardly a whisper. “Are we…do you not want the ring anymore?”

You shake your head. “I don’t know Az,” you cry, “I need time to think about it all. To figure how to go forward.”

He manages a slight nod of his head, breathing shallowly, then his eyes dip to the baby in your arms. “Can I…can I hold her?” He asks, brows curved desperately.

You nod, sniffling again, managing a small smile. “Yes. Yes, you can,” you breathe, trying to shift to make room for him as he walks over, and you turn Val over to face him.

Azriel settles on the sofa beside you, and you revel in that familiar dip of cushion, deprived of his familiarity for so long. It’s a subconscious shift for both of you, how he’s turned slightly toward you on the sofa, with you leaning into him as he holds your baby with reverent care, wincing at how his hands confront her youth.

“You can’t see them at the moment, but she’s got your eyes,” you murmur, moving closer to him still, taking in his familiar scent, nestling into his body, aching to feel him at your side again.

“She’s perfect,” he whispers, eyes growing glassy, and your smile becomes real and alive again. “She’s in good health too. The doctor’s said she was born at the expected weight, and they had nothing to be concerned over so long as she’s taken care of,” you add, head leaning against his shoulder.

Azriel glances over to you, and your breath catches. The proximity at last returned, alone and together in peace. “You did so well,” he whispers, hazel eyes swirling with emotion. “I’m glad you think so,” you whisper back, fighting off tears.

You settle back into quiet, both of you watching as Val continues sleeping, her little face calm and void of disturbance.

Neither of you really know how you end up holding your baby again, tucked into Azriel’s lap with his arms wrapped around both of you. Your head rests on his shoulder, fast asleep with Val comfortably held between you, both her parents at her swaddled fingertips.

Azriel holds both of you close long after his legs go numb, relieved he hasn’t entirely messed things up. He can’t have, if you’re allowing this. Allowing him to see the baby you made together, even after you had to make her practically on your own.

His arm shifts, thumb swiping over the beads of your bracelet, doubting it knows a surface other than your skin. You held onto it through the uncertainty, through the turbulence he unknowingly subjected you to. Never again.

He’ll never leave you on your own again. Especially not now you share a child.

Azriel’s lips brush against your temple, dropping a long, soft kiss to your skin.

He’ll be better this time. For both of you.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

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[vulpisnocturna]

Hello there, I hope ur havin a great day ♡ may I ask for Gojo x virgin!reader w voice kink, if it's ok w u obviously 🖤 I just think he would be sooo sweet to his darling 😌

Of course lovely :)

15) free space (voice kink)

NSFW - MDNI

Warnings: virgin reader, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk, experienced Gojo, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, safe sex (on this blog??? crazy I know), Lawyer AU because why not, soft dom Gojo

His cerulean eyes were truly what people described and more. They had the effect that the Bernini statues had had on you when you had first seen them: awe and wonder at how an artist could carve marble to look like flesh and silk, how fingers curling on stone could look so soft and powerful. Gojo Satoru’s eyes were the same: they left you in marvel of the specks of hundreds, if not thousands of hues of blue, from the deepest depths of the ocean to a forest stream to the summer sky, all the way to the richest sapphires and the July fields of cornflowers in a meadow. They were framed by snowy eyelashes like snowflakes on ice, and try as you might, you could not accept that they were covered by sunglasses most of the time.

The first time you had seen them, you had forgotten how to speak. Now, because Satoru was a bit of a prick, he never did let it go. Once he had caught onto the fact that you had a crush on him, he had asked you out on a date. You were a lawyer green as grass at the firm he was partner at, fresh out of law school, looking to make a name for yourself in the law scene and make a change. Though his methods of arguing were unorthodox, Gojo Satoru was regarded as the best lawyer in the city. He talked way too much and often got cheeky with the Judge, which always made you slump in your chair and cringe inwardly like all the bones in your body had turned to soup, but somehow, his charm always managed to appease both the Judge and the jury.

Nanami-san said that if anyone other than Gojo tried his methods in court, they would be held in contempt in the span of five minutes without even having the time to utter “Your Honour”. He could do what he did because he was Gojo Satoru, but you still admired his speeches, his compelling motions, the way he could turn a case around at the last minute of the closing arguments as though it was second nature.

It was after a full day in court where you had had to cross-examine a very important defence expert witness that Gojo had kept you in the cafeteria at the afternoon break. You were sitting on a bench, trying to relieve the pain in your feet after wearing stilettos and standing behind the podium for hours, and drinking the watery coffee that did not taste like much just to keep yourself going just for another two hours, when Gojo had approached you.

‘That cross was quite the show’ he had commented, devouring a pastry, licking his lips when the strawberry jam inside it painted his mouth bright red.

That had been when Gojo had first taken notice of you. After that, he had insisted on getting a morning coffee with you, buying you lunch on the break and had even invited you to a dinner with the firm partners, and despite you feeling really out of your depth, he had managed to make you feel like you belonged with his easy jokes and cheeky compliments.

One week after the dinner, he had taken you on a beautiful date at a bar in the bustling centre of the city, where cocktails were served with smoke billowing from the glass and even just bartending looked like full-fledged artistry.

And now, after your third date, you had had a couple of glasses of red wine, and you had felt courageous enough to take him up on his offer to go back to his place. As a starting practitioner, you were living in a small flat near the courthouse, one where if you opened the sofa-bed, you would not be able to reach the kitchen unless you crawled over the bed. And now, you were in a penthouse with windows surrounding the living room, overlooking the skyline and the city centre. It was... extravagant and showy, two adjectives you would immediately choose when talking about him. And he was currently embracing you from behind, kissing your throat, sending your heart pattering like hailstones on a car windshield.

You hadn’t had the guts to tell him you were a virgin. You were out of your depth here as you had been at the dinner, but this, this felt so much more personal. This was... embarrassing.

Perhaps because you had been so busy with law school and then work, trying to stay on top of bills and rent, you hadn’t had time to date. You felt as though you had missed a big part of your puberty and early adulthood, and at some point, it had gotten to a point where “waiting for the right one” had turned into not trusting anyone enough with the embarrassment of still being a virgin. You had never been fully naked with someone, never done anything more than making out and shirtless dry humping. And he... well, he had a reputation as a womanizer. He looked like the type to have commitment issues, and God, you should not be involving yourself with him to this point, you should not give out your first sex experience to someone who might just want a one night stand with no baggage, but he had won you over like he won all of his cases.

And now, you were afraid to admit that you loved that peculiar, flamboyant man, and you wanted him to be your first.

But you did not know how to come clean with it. And so you were stuck in that predicament, turning into putty in his hands and growing more and more tense by the minute as his lips ghosted your jaw and your throat, his hands splayed on your stomach, holding you in place.

‘You are so pretty, sweetheart. You smell so sweet- you look so innocent, just want to see you look at me with your pretty teary eyes underneath me’ he murmured against your ear, and a shiver ran up your spine, your eyelids fluttering at the mere sound of his voice. He sounded... tantalising. It was as if his voice alone was enough to render you unable to think, enough to make your lower stomach drop and force you to press your thighs together to alleviate the throbbing between them. The huskiness of it, the sweet but sensual tone, his words... they were all making you dizzy. You could just hear him speak in your ear forever and you would never need to have sex to know what it felt like.

‘Satoru-‘ you breathed, licking your dry lips, and he turned you, picking you up and forcing you to wrap your legs around his hips. His lips clashed with yours, hungry and enticing, soft and ravenous as they sought to brand you and burn their likeness in your mouth. His tongue was warm and demanding against yours, and he tasted faintly of mint and spiced rum, a lingering tribute to the last drink he’d had. His teeth sank in the pliant flesh of your bottom lip, and he sucked, tearing a whimper from you that made him groan.

The sound that came from his throat did nothing to quell down your lust, rather, it poured gasoline on a forest fire, to the point where you were squirming and gyrating your hips against his erection in an attempt to find reprieve.

‘Eager, are we, baby? I like it’ he chuckled, and you burnt from embarrassment and sheer lust, gulping when you found yourself in his room, which seemed to be bigger than your flat, on a king-sized bed with the softest mattress you had ever felt underneath you. He was quick to take off his shirt, giving you a view of his flawless alabaster skin and the lithe body he was blessed with, one that was nonetheless quite toned and muscular for someone who spent his day arguing with people. He climbed above you, looking at you with those cobalt eyes that seemed to make the world stand still.

‘C’mon, sweetheart, relax. I’m not going to devour you- unless you ask nicely’ he winked at you, making you burn at the embarrassing joke and the connotations of his words.

‘I- I haven’t... had sex before. Ever’ you decided to rip the band-aid and hope for the best. Satoru’s reaction was not what you had expected. He looked perplexed.

‘You’re a virgin? You? You must have had a crowd of fanboys following you for years. Were none of them up to your standards? Were you waiting for me?’ he teased, smirking, almost as if he was trying to put you at ease with his light humour. You gave a nervous laugh.

‘Uhh, I was... busy- and never really got to that point’ you stuttered, wishing his stupid extravagant bedside table lamps weren’t on so he wouldn’t see your face.

‘Well, I am flattered you chose me. I’ll have to make it worth your time, yeah?’ he said, seemingly falling back into his charming self as he ran the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, making you hold your breath as you waited for his next move.

He cupped your face, drawing you in for a slow, sensual kiss that made your stomach drop and pebbled your skin with goosebumps. The touch of his fingers was a mere caress across your ribcage, your waist and hip, but you could tell that he was holding back, and he would have likely been much rougher had he not known that this was your first time.

His feverish lips traced a line to your throat, and he took his time savouring your skin, kissing and licking and nipping at your skin until you were sure you were nothing but a pliant ragdoll in his hands.

‘I’m going to make you feel so good, baby... going to make you addicted to this, make you my good girl’ he crooned against your skin, and your breath faltered, your teeth pulling on the corner of your bottom lip. He sounded sinful, alluring, like he was casting a spell on you. His voice alone, hearing him say that, the drop in his tone, the way his tongue seemed to caress every word like his fingers were ghosting your skin... it was already becoming too much to bear. You needed to feel more, and you did not want him to treat you like you were a fragile thing who would break at the slightest touch.

In your fantasies, ones you would take to your grave, he would just take you as he spewed filth to you, praising you and making you feel like you were the only thing he ever saw and wanted. You wanted to be his.

‘Satoru... you can be rougher with me’ you murmured, and his eyes seemed to gleam in the orangey glow of the lamps, a grin spreading across his reddened lips as his fingers curled around your hip.

‘Careful what you wish for, pretty girl’ he said, his hand skimming your body to settle on your ass, under your skirt. He was fondling the pliable skin there, his tongue dipping out to lick your cleavage. He helped you out of your top, his eyes devouring every inch of your skin, making you feel truly attractive and seductive as you watched him take in your features like he couldn’t get enough of you.

Satoru ran his willowy fingers over your breasts, ghosting over your stiff nipples, circling them before he pulled down the straps of your bra and snaked his hand underneath your back to unclasp it and toss it away.

You would have felt self-conscious, were it not for Satoru’s immediate enthusiasm as he dipped his head and kissed the skin around your nipple, his hand kneading the other breast as his tongue flicked your nipple and he sucked it. You arched your back into his eager mouth and skilled fingers, wishing he would touch you between your legs, because you couldn’t take it anymore.

‘So pretty- you’re so sensitive, baby. You want me to take this pretty little skirt off?’ he asked, voice almost mellifluous, and you nodded almost too eagerly, immediately averting your eyes and feeling your cheeks heat up with warmth as you watched him smirk. He unzipped your skirt, easily slipping it off you, and his fingers ran up your thighs, which parted for him instinctively. He hummed in self-satisfaction, eyes locked on your face as he cupped you through your underwear, making your breath falter and a desperate mewl escape you at the much needed friction, which still did not feel like enough.

‘You’re such a good girl. So wet for me’ he crooned, dragging his fingers along your labia, pressing slightly until you were squirming underneath him.

‘Please, Satoru- need...’ you whined, and he chuckled, lowering his head to plant a kiss on your clothed pussy, his tongue mischievously flicking you where your most sensitive spot was.

‘What do you need, sweetheart? Want me to take your panties off and lick your cute little cunt?’ he asked, so impossibly lewd and alluring that you could not help but moan, nodding desperately.

‘Yeah- need you to touch me’ you breathed, and he smirked, cerulean eyes bright and impish as he hooked his fingers on the hem of your panties and dragged them down your thighs, discarding them and immediately touching your bare skin, teasing your wet labia and kissing your thighs, inching closer and closer to your cunt.

He dipped one long finger inside you, and you were already clamping and throbbing around it, but when he curled it, you could not help the breathless, wanton moan that poured out of you. It felt too good to be true.

‘Such a tight little cunt. Need to get you used to my fingers before you can take my cock, m’kay?’ he cooed, and your head spun with the sheer desire that man could induce in you with just his voice and a single finger.

But when his tongue joined his hand and he flicked your clit, you swore you saw stars. Your hands shot to his snowy hair, and instinct made you try to squirm away, but Satoru would not let you. He pinned you down with one large hand and let out a gravelly groan, circling your clit with his tongue.

If you had known oral sex felt this good, you would have sought someone out years ago. But perhaps it was just Satoru, and he was annoyingly good at everything, including sex.

You were reduced to a sobbing, wanton mess as Satoru tormented you in the sweetest way there was, coaxing whimpers and moans from you as he sucked your clit in his searing mouth, added another finger inside you and pumped them, slowly at first, and then deeper and faster.

His fingers were so much different from yours: they were longer and thicker, and he knew what he was doing even better than you did. And his tongue... God, it was torturous.

‘Cum for me, pretty girl- cum on my face’ he said, and you were undone. Your orgasm rocked through you like a surge of electricity, making your body tense up and your thighs tremble, your ears ringing and your eyes full of tears, white splotches dancing in your vision as the tight knot in your lower stomach released.

You were bleary, worn-out and breathless when he finally lifted his head and slipped his fingers out of you, unable to even form words after the orgasm he had just torn from you. Your dazed eyes followed him as he lifted himself off the bed and unbuttoned his trousers, taking them off along with his black boxers, until you stared, eyes slightly wide as his cock slapped against his lower stomach, thick and long, the reddened skin contrasting with the neatly trimmed white hairs of his crotch and the pale skin of his stomach.

He reached to the drawer of his nightstand, grabbing a condom and ripping the wrapper with his teeth. He unrolled it over his cock, smirking at you and hovering above you, kissing you and rubbing the tip of his cock over your labia, making you whine and push your hips against him to get him to push in.

‘Shh, shh. I have to be gentle, don’t want to hurt you, baby’ he murmured, looking as though he was struggling to restrain himself too as he pushed in a little bit, until the tip of his cock pressed inside you, tearing a whimper from you. It already felt thick and as though it was filling you and stretching you, and you did not know whether you would be able to withstand any more.

However, with coaxing and shushing from his part, he was able to push a few more inches inside you, moaning as his head dropped in the crook of your neck, his breath uneven. Your eyes scrunched up and you gritted your teeth at the burning sensation inside you, taking small breaths and trying to relax your muscles even though your instinct was to tense up.

‘Fuck- you’re so tight. You can take it, you’re doing so well, sweetheart. Just a little more’ he praised, kissing you, forcing you to relax and distracting you from the pain you felt as he pushed. You gasped at the sudden pang of pain, raking your nails down his back, but the sting did not take too long to fade away.

The first push of his hips after the pain went away felt so good you could not hold back a loud moan, and your back arched into him, your eyelids growing heavy with pleasure.

He let out a groan, gripping your thigh, lifting it around his waist, deepening the thrusts until you were squirming underneath him, whining and pleading with him.

‘Good girl. You feel amazing. You sound so sweet, baby’ he crooned, slapping his hips against you, until you could barely breathe and were rendered incoherent by how good it felt, how it pressed against all the right places, how his words were guiding you through it, heightening the pleasure.

‘’toru- please... I’m so close’ you moaned, and he gave you an impish grin, pulling you into a sloppy kiss, his hand snaking between your bodies to roll your clit between his fingers, until you were quivering and writhing underneath him, gasping for air when your lips weren’t interlocked with each other.

‘That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby. I’m close too’ he said, getting rougher, pushing deeper and harder into you, lifting one of your legs on his shoulder, his bright blue eyes burning into you, seeming to sear the image he was seeing into his brain.

A string of curses and slurred pleas left your mouth as it got too much to bear and the knot in your belly released, making you tremble with your orgasm, your field of view obfuscated with white, your muscles weak as his hips stuttered and his rhythm broke. He came with a breathy moan, his head thrown back in bliss, his lips slightly parted.

Satoru slumped next to you, a light sheen of sweat making some strands of snowy hair cling to his forehead, his skin almost glowing in the dim light of his room.

You dared to reach to his face and brush them away, and he closed his eyes, almost as if he was revelling in your touch. It made your heart tighten in your ribcage.

‘Shower with me?’ he asked, smiling slightly, and then his lips stretched into that charming, roguish smirk, ‘I can’t promise I’ll behave, sweetheart’