#white office envelopes

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[suguann]

✎. he’s nice. well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you.

tags. fem!reader, mild dubcon, possessive and obsessive behavior, simon is an excon, non-linear narrative for future chapters [18+ only]

part one | part two

He’s always been a little obsessed with pretty things, even as a child.

It only makes sense that the habit would follow him into adulthood.

He sees you once while he’s walking by the bus stop. A timid thing wrapped up in an oversized sweater and parka coat, not looking up from the little book in your lap until the bus stops before you and takes you away.

The next time he sees you, he makes sure to come a few minutes earlier, lighting a cigarette and keeping his distance while he watches you read the same book from the day before. Simon knows it’s you, the girl from the letters, even if it’s a big city. It has to be—his pretty, lonely, silly girl.

He thinks about walking up to you just to make sure, but he doesn’t really need to. The address on the envelope brought him here, and you’re the only one he’s seen wearing a university sweater in this neighborhood.

But when he hesitates too long, a boy starts talking to you, and he watches you smile at somebody else.

Simon runs his thumb over his bottom lip and takes a deep breath to fill his chest with the soothing feeling of menthol and the burning taste of nicotine, trying to relax his white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel. 

You’ll learn, he thinks, when the bus drives off, and the boy doesn’t follow you on. He’s a patient man—it’s possibly one of his finer qualities.

He lets his car idle as he climbs out before crushing his cigarette bud underneath his shoe, straightening his black tie, and crossing the street. The boy sees him and freezes, but Simon can only laugh, wiping blood off his cheek several seconds later.

You’ll learn.

He’s nice.

Well, that’s what everyone’s been telling you. But nice, you've learned, can mean any number of things: a nice laugh, a nice house, a nice job, et cetera.

But how he holds himself—tall, broad, and dangerous—hardly screams nice.

It’s funny because you don’t remember seeing him around the office before—the company, including IT, occupies only four floors in the building. 

Someone tells you he’s a friend of a friend. This initially sounds odd until Rose, the office gossip, says he’s someone rich who helps fund the company's social events. Hence, the crisp suit and the wide berth of space you’d give someone who wields their smile like a weapon. 

You quickly look away twice when you find that smile aimed at you, heat traveling up to your hairline at an alarming rate.

It doesn’t matter anyway. He’s not your type. 

“Enjoying the party?” 

You nearly jump out of your skin at the deep voice so close to your ear. Careful not to spill your drink, you turn your head to find him smiling down at you with a sharp curl of his mouth.

Then he’s in front of you, eyes dark and crinkling in the corners.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not bad, though,” you squeak nervously when you realize you haven’t answered him. “It’s different from what I’m used to.”

He raises an amused brow. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He’s intimidating up close, and you take a small sip of your drink to ease your nerves. “Well, no kegs or trashy music playing, and boys with egos bigger than the room.”

The man lets out a low chuckle as he considers your honest reply, and you swear you see something ripple across his features, but when you blink, it’s gone. “I suppose that differs from top-shelf liquor and live bands, huh? Which is better?”

You shrug. “Well, it depends on who you ask.” 

“I’m asking you.”

“Honest answer?” 

He nods. 

“Neither. I don’t really care for parties.”

“Then it’s quite unfortunate that you found yourself at one tonight.” He seems privately amused, in on a joke you have no part of. Then he says, “You want to get out of here?”

“I probably shouldn’t follow a stranger home,” you tell him bashfully.

“That’s very responsible of you. Then how about I get you a drink? There’s a hotel across the street, and the bar’s not shit.”

You bite your lip, and his big, warm hand is on the small of your back before you say anything. It must’ve been written all over your face like he knew you would say yes.

He’s ever the gentleman, unlike most boys your age. Though, perhaps that’s the difference. He isn’t a boy—nothing about him can hardly be described as such. This fact becomes a bit overwhelming and more evident once he has you on your back, thighs nearly up to your ears, and held in place by a firm, intricately tattooed forearm.

His smile—almost too sharp to be nice—makes your chest do this silly thing when he says, “Let’s play a game.” 

You whisper into the night air. “What kind of game?”

“It’s simple. You tell me yes or no.”

Your brows furrow, unsure of the rules of the game. “But—”

The slap against your cunt isn’t harsh, but it’s the suddenness of it, how no one has ever thought to touch you like that, is what makes you squeak and tremble underneath him—the rings on his fingers sharpening the sting—trying to scurry up the bed, but hindered by his iron grip.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yes.”

“There’s a girl,” and then his fingertips drop down to where you're slippery-wet and sensitive, moving in hard, tight circles until you're clenching down on a curse between your teeth. "Messy little cunt."

It's too much, you think when he plugs two fingers (feeling like three of your own) into your pussy. The muscles in his shoulders roll as he shoves his fingers in and out, batting your hands away when you try to get him to slow down. Too much, too—

“It’s not. I want you to cum like this,” he says, teasing, nudging your clit with his thumb and swirling it in tight spit-slick circles; you have no choice but to chase that bright light feeling until you cum, sticky and sweaty. 

Just like he promised you would, your orgasm is a shivery thing, molten heat, incandescent, settling in your veins until it pours out of you like liquid wax against the scratchy hotel sheets, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, his fingers curl up and press into where you’re soft and tender.

He smiles. “This is fun, isn’t it, love?”

“I can’t,” you whimper, not exactly answering him. “No more, please.”

His eyes, already pupil-fat, go dark at hearing you beg, nostrils flaring. Please, the key for the small amount of mercy he grants you as he replaces his fingers with his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to your clit and lightly sucking it into his mouth. His lips are just there, and then they’re gone.

“Say it again.”

Your response is a wet little hiccup at the back of your throat. “W-what?”

“Beg me.”

“Please.”

“Again,” he says one more time.

“Please, please, please…”

It’s all you can think to say, strung between that dreamy space and reality, that you don’t even notice him flipping you onto your tummy with ease, not until the light in the room is blotted out as he leans over you. He wraps a hand into the scruff of your neck and presses your face into the bed, the other tucked under your hips to keep them at the right angle—held down with nowhere to go.

He leaves biting open-mouthed kisses across your shoulders and the back of your neck—Simon—he manages to tell you his name from one little bruise to the next. Somewhere between the buzz in your ears, you hear him telling you that he wants you to moan it for him, nice and loud.

The haze clears a little, however, at the metal clink of a belt and the sound of a zipper coming undone before you feel his cock prodding you open—raw, without a condom.

“There you go. Lay there, and just—just give me what I fucking want,” Simon rasps as if you could actually move with his hands pinning you in place. 

There are many things you should feel: scared of his words, trapped by the rings digging into tender flesh, by his thighs forcefully pushing yours apart. The red flags look more like flashing lights at this point.

Instead, you feel wanted—your walls tighten around his cock, fluttering, pulling him deeper inside, letting him turn you inside out. A small smile buried into the pillow.

[madammidnightsblog]

Yandere Mailman X Sleepy Darling

Yandere Mailman fell in love with you the first time he was sent to work in your neighborhood and caught you sluggishly walking out of your house to get the mail. He watched you walk out onto the wooden porch with your blanket wrapped around you and your hair a mess for napping, it was your day off from a busy week at the office so that was a very much needed nap. Yandere Mailman was taken away by how cute you looked with drool stains down your chin and the sleepy look on your adorable face as he watched you from across the street. He just walked to scoop you right up and pull you into his mail truck and take you home. Yandere Mailman who memorized your address and the white painted fence with what looked like fake plants decorating your front porch as they looked too green for someone who never was home. It was burned into the back of his head and how couldn't? The owner was just so cute! Yandere Mailman gets so jealous when he sees all the envelops that were filled out in such pretty handwriting of yours, addressing to a man at a military base- he didn't care that it was your brother that you were writing too (he didn't open them and read them, what kind of person would invade such privacy? their seals just happened to be broken- okay?) You shouldn't be writing to any man! Yandere Mailman just can't help but take those letters you send to your brother and his letters; you shouldn't talk to him- he left you after all, right? If he cared, he wouldn't be away and stayed by your side. That's what you do for those you love and no, he totally didn't jerk off to your letters because you went into detail about how excited you were to go to the beach with your friends and how you bought at new swimsuit for it- okay! Yandere Mailman who sits outside in his mail truck he parked across the street with his dick in his hand, jerking off as he watched you once again sluggishly walked outside to get the mail. The adorable, tired expression of yours and how you're wearing such small night shorts and that big loose t-shirt, it just has him throbbing every time. Yandere Mailman who cums once you noticed the unmarked envelope he left for you, watching the once sleepy expression turn into a confused one. It was just so damn cute, and he couldn't help it, knowing you're opening it and reading the little love letter he made with your chubby cheeks turning red. His balls were squeezed in his free hand while the other moved in a fast and sloppy pattern until he makes a mess all over his hand. Yandere Mailman makes sure you memorize the days you're home in the mornings and leaves little love letters that are totally are normal! They might talk about how much he loves your adorable little face and how your hair is just so damn pretty that he wants to play with it and how he wants to see your little sleepy face sucking him off while you're barely awake, drooling and sleepily blink up at him as he helps you since you're just so tired.

[ithebookhoarder]

Never Let You Go (Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader)

Description: Being married to Aaron (A.K.A. your boss and the love of your life) has both it advantages and disadvantages - and being reprimanded by him for risking your neck in the field is definitely one of the latter... 💔

A/N: Hi everyone. I'm alive! Sorry that this is so short but it sort of just wrote itself and was a nice way to help try and ease me back into writing again as it's been a hot minute here 😅

Warnings: Angsty Hotch, arguing, mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, implied murder, references to abduction, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Masterlist

You knew when Aaron was angry. You knew the signs very well this far into your relationship, not only as a fellow member of the BAU but also as his wife. He didn’t even need to voice it for you to notice it, rolling off of him in waves… and unfortunately for you, you knew exactly what had caused it. 

You hadn’t meant to throw yourself into the proverbial frying pan, but when the Unsub you had been tracking had grabbed an innocent girl as a hostage you had simply acted without thinking. You had offered yourself instead, knowing your value meant he would not dispose of you as quickly as the others he had taken - and that your team would have to let him leave the parking lot you had chased him to. He knew it too, which was why he had quickly accepted, resulting in you being hauled into a van with a gun pressed against your head. 

Of course, the team had done exactly what you’d expected and located you within an hour. They had mounted a rescue and you had been safely back, unharmed, within mere minutes of the team arriving outside of the cabin. 

All in all, it was a win in your book… but not in your husband / boss’s.  

He had been the first through the door, intent on getting to you whilst Morgan tackled the Unsub into handcuffs. He had quickly cut you free, checked you weren’t seriously hurt, and escorted you back outside, tucked securely under his arm. However, the second you had made it back to the cars, Aaron had pulled away and hidden behind a mask of white hot fury. 

His silent temper had only got worse since you’d all got off the plane, with a thick and suffocating silence filling the car on the drive back. Everyone looked at one another anxiously, knowing better than to risk being the one to say anything and accidentally cause him to erupt in their direction. In fact, a minor miracle had occurred with Spencer not saying a single word until the whole team had spilled out of the elevator, even if it looked like it had caused him physical pain to do so. 

Hell, even Penelope had taken one look at everyone’s faces and done an immediate u-turn back to her lair, muttering she would ‘come back later’.

Unfortunately, you didn’t really have that option when Aaron was your husband and you both shared a car and a house… which was why you had watched as the others grabbed their belongings and finished debriefing, leaving their case files on Hotch’s desk for him to review on Monday. You’d followed along, the last to enter his office and leave your own on the top of the pile. 

However, your fingers had barely let go of the manilla envelope when you heard Hotch clear his throat, turning his attention squarely to the last two agents stood next to you. 

“Good work, everyone. Morgan, Prentiss, you can go. Have a good weekend - Y/N, stay where you are. We need to talk.” 

Shit. 

Your husband’s tone was calm but icy, telling you that this wasn’t up for debate; it was an order and god help anyone who went against him. It was why Emily and Derek made for the door without another word, although Emily shot you a final look over her shoulder, as if checking you were alright. 

You nodded subtly, trying to reassure her as she and Derek made their way out the door, closing it behind them. You knew without asking that the rest of the team would be watching from down in the bullpen, trying and failing to work out what was being said as Hotch ripped you a new one.  

Taking a deep breath, you crossed your arms over your chest and turned to face him. 

You hated seeing his beautiful face so hard and devoid of feeling. It was like a whole different man to the one who slept beside you every night, and greeted you first thing every morning. 

You gulped.

A cold sweat had formed on the back of your neck as he stepped closer slowly, deliberately dragging out the tension. You had to fight the urge to break off the staring contest between you, refusing to surrender to him just yet. It was probably why you opened your mouth first, desperate to beat him to the punch in case you lost your nerve. 

“Before you say anything, I know what you’re going to say, and I know what I did was dangerous and went against your orders,” you rambled, “I’m also well aware of the consequences and I won’t apologise for what I did, not when the option was risking that young girl and the rest of the team-“ 

“I am your superior here, Y/N. What I say goes. That is not up for debate, ever. You do not give me orders,” Aaron seethed, making you fall silent without even raising his voice - which somehow made it worse. It was as if your guilt was swallowing you whole. “What happened today will not happen again, am I understood? You do not ignore my orders whenever you feel like it, nor do you get to lecture me about why you did what you did. And above all? You never tell me to let you go, unarmed and alone, ever again. Is that clear?” 

Your eyes were glued to the floor, wishing silently for it to swallow you up.

“You know I was doing what anyone else on this team would’ve done. He had an innocent girl, Aaron, and he was cornered,” you countered. “He would have killed her the second he left the parking lot, or opened fire then and there. It was the only way to get him out of there, without risking the team and everyone in that area-“

“As the head of this team, I did what I would’ve done if anyone else had been in that position - which is tell you not to risk yourself - but as your husband,” he choked, “I cannot even begin to describe what I felt when he had that gun pointed at your head and that van door closed.” 

You gulped. You felt his pain drawing you in like a gravitational pull, making you desperate to reach out and soothe it from his brow.

“Aaron… You know I didn’t do this to hurt you,” you cooed. To your relief, he nodded, wrapping an arm around your waist and curling you into his chest as if needing to feel you were actually stood there in front of him.  

“It might surprise you to realise that I do know that. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make any of this easier.” You could feel the tension physically radiating off of him as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I… I thought I’d lost you. I... I can't lose you... I won't lose you or someone I love. Not again.”

“I know. I’m so sorry… I’m right here, my love. I’m right here… Always.”

[corollaservant]

18+ mdni sugu drabble

Suguru loved picking you up from work on his motorcycle but he would never admit why. He drove an old Suzuki and all your colleagues (not just the girls!) would stare at him, he looked really pretty; waiting for you outside the office, with the helmet around his hands and a cigarette on his lips, killing time on the phone. Once he spotted you, he’d give you a wide smile and put his phone in his pockets. You gave him a peck on the lips and climbed on the back. Even though he did this for a year straight and he always drove very carefully, you had this habit of clinging onto him, enveloping his strong body with your hands and resting your face on his back, smelling his shampoo and leather jacket. You were squeezing him so tightly at times that your chest was pressing directly on his back making him hard while driving. He hated himself for being so desperate but just your body pressed on him drove him insane to the point of his knuckles turning white from his grip on the handles. You had never realized this though you’d notice that almost every time you got home, he’d throw your bag on the floor, push you against the wall and groan like a wounded animal against your neck, kissing you and fumbling with your clothes. His hands would caress your face while his mouth desperately searched yours, he was flushed and needy. ‘’Mhmm baby.. I haven’t even showered yet.. p-please’’ you’d mewl but he’d shut you up with an even hungrier kiss. ‘’I don’t mind princess, need you now.’’ he’d respond, pushing his achingly hard cock on your clothed entrance, rubbing up and down seductively, his tormented voice making you forget everything else (like the question why he was so hard already). He would lift you up against the wall, slide your soaked panties to the side, all that making out with him had you embarrassingly wet as he'd shove himself deep in your pussy, filling you up so good, you’d let a soft moan ‘’S..suguru p..please’’ you’d blurt, not even knowing what you were pleading for, trying to stabilize yourself in his embrace, you were slightly hitting against the wall with each needy thrust, gripping on his tousled hair for support, it turned him on so much ‘’fuck..baby ..don’t do that’’ he’d warn exhaling heavily, your hands on his hair made his cock twitch. You never listened anyway—not until he had your head banging against the wall and neighbors were knocking to ask if everything was alright afterwards.

[blood-smiles]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐖𝐘𝐄𝐑 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 💌

You organized various assortments of products on shelves, placing each product perfectly, the name of the item fully on display,

While stepping back to admire your work you heard the squeaky shoes of a little kid, suddenly a small body crashed into your side and landed on the floor with a sickening crack,

“Jimmy! Jimmy! Oh my god! JIMMY!” The frantic voice of a woman called out, you instantly turned around, seeing the little boy wailing on the ground, his arm twisted in an uncomfortable direction,

You crouched down next to the child, trying to get him to calm down as you inspected his arm,

The same woman ran in your direction and pushed you off her child with a rough shove, tears welling up in her eyes,

“YOU! YOU DID THIS TO MY CHILD!” She shrieked, holding the kid in her arms,

“I-I ma’am! I swear it’s not that, your child was running and crashed into—“ 

“I DONT WANT TO HEAR IT! I AM GOING TO SUE YOU FOR THIS!” She screamed at you, her spit landing on your face as you stepped back,

A burning pain splattered all over your face, the woman’s purse making a harsh contact with your nose bridge, 

Small red droplets dirtied your white uniform polo shirt, 

She scooped up the injured boy in her arms and ran outside the store, yelling profanities and curses at you,

Suddenly a loud crash was heard as the woman kicked the large shelves, causing the tall shelves to come down on you, one by one alike to dominos,

You can’t remember what happened next, as you woke up in a hospital.

So. You have a huge law suit over your head now, a metaphorical guillotine over your neck, just waiting to be brought down on you, decapitating you and your clean record,

You stood in the waiting room, the fresh smell of floor cleaner wafting into your nostrils, helping you distract yourself momentarily,

“Mx (Y/N)?” A deep voice rings out, pulling you back into reality,

You glance up at the source of the voice, your (e/c) meeting with scarlet red hues, sharp eyes encased behind glasses,

You slowly got up, using your crutches to stabilize your footing, the man waited for you, his eyes inspecting your form as if calculating your every move, he stared at you for longer than needed but you ignored his eyes and kept acting as if nothing was happening,

He politely opened the door for you, giving you enough room to limp inside the office, after you successfully sat down, the man stood in front of his desk,

His ruby eyes were drilling into your own, as if memorizing every single detail of your iris, you looked into his eyes too, trying to seem confident,

If you looked close enough you could see the slight color difference under his eyes, you recognized that gaze— of exhaustion and pulling all nighters, but he did do a good job minimizing the eye bags!

You didn’t get to look at him properly but he was very well dressed.. the classic black vest along with black dress pants and a white dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off his forearms,

Pretty purple hair gathered at the back of his head in a ponytail, two tresses framed the sides of his face, bringing more attention to his sharp features, he was attractive.. Very attractive.

After another round of continuous staring the male finally cleared his throat, breaking the suffocating tension in the room,

“I am Alejandro Ortega, your defense in the court.” He stated clearly, sticking his hand out, asking for a hand shake,

“Oh. I’m (Y/N), thank you for your time sir.” You politely stretched out your arm and gently shook his hand,

His larger one enveloped your own hand, giving you a steady and firm handshake, slightly squeezing your hand in his,

His touch lingered, hand still tightly held around yours, he stared into your eyes, unwilling to let go,

You half smiled, trying to pull your hand away from his, slightly becoming unsettled when he didn’t let go,

He coughed, letting go of your hand and sitting down on his own chair,

He crossed his legs under the desk, taking out a paper and a pen, tapping the opposite side of the tip on the paper sheet, he discussed with you the phases of how he was planning to defend you in this case, giving you a bit of a background check on him,

“Well then, please tell me how everything happened, miss (Y/N).” 

You started retelling the events of the store, your hands coming in play and moving around to emphasize your actions and feelings,

A soft smile bloomed on the man’s face, sometimes even chuckling quietly at your exaggerated gestures,

Alejandro liked—No, adored your company, you were so charismatic and lively, your energy was so contagious that even his hard exterior had began to show cracks,

The buzzing in his chest wouldn’t stop, his hands were sweaty and his face felt warm, just what was this feeling? He is supposed to maintain a poker face and not show any favoritism with his clients.. Oh but you.. he couldn’t help but show contentment around you,

Unfortunately you soon had to go home and rest, he felt truly pity for you, being all bruised up and injured— on top of that you were in the process of being sued, 

Such a sweet soul you have, he would make sure that you would be well protected under him, he would hate to see you in harms way,

Alejandro finished helping the janitors cleaning up, he waved everyone off as they left, with suitcase in hand he leaned against the wall,

Ever since your appointment with him he couldn’t stop thinking of your face and voice, perhaps he could use your files for some.. private research.

He opened the doors of his home, his wife, Ume, peeked into the hallway as if already knowing it was him who entered the manor,

Her long white hair flowed behind her as she sped walked towards him, she brushed her bangs out of her beautiful face as she approached him,

“Honey! Did you get off work early?” She wrapped her arms around his neck, giving him a loving peck on his lips,

Alejandro grunted in response, peeling her arms off his shoulders and neck, he despised physical contact from Ume, he hated her voice, to him it sounded like nails scratching against a chalkboard, it irritated him, greatly so.

Ume was not at fault, for she had done no wrong to him, she was what any man would wish for, she was obedient, beautiful, loving and skilled in every aspect,

He just hated the intent behind his marriage with her, ever since he had slipped out of his mothers womb and brought into this world he had no control over his life, for it had been decided for him,

What he was going to be, who he was going to marry, where he was going to study, who his relationships were and even how he should feel,

He had no control over his life, he had never had any control over his own livelihood, his parents had controlled him even beyond the grave,

He hated his life. He hated Ume. He hated his parents. He cherishes you. He hated everything but you.

You had brought excitement to his life somehow, you came into his office and sparked something in him with your attitude and personality,

Maybe his life wasn’t so bad.

He stared at the knives in his kitchen, his hand itching to find something— someone to slice into ribbons with the sheening blade of the knife,

When did he become so violent? Was he this savage all along?

He shook his head lightly, taking off his glasses momentarily as he cooked dinner for his self and Ume,

He flipped the chicken and rice in two plates, as he brought the food and placed it down on the long hall table,

Ume awed at the perfectly cooked food, she dug in immediately, complimenting him and his cooking skills every time she spooned food into her mouth,

Alejandro subconsciously clutched a napkin in his hand, his knuckles turning a ghost white from sheer force,

“..Thank you” he muttered, his hand shakily cutting off some chicken and inserting it into his mouth,

His mind wandered off to your beautiful eyes, those beautiful (e/c) gems twinkling under light enamored him so much..

Alejandro noticed how your eyes would wander off sometimes, looking at him intently, as if you were listening to the most interesting thing in the world, it just made him feel so bashful..

How long had it been since he had seen you? 5 hours? 5 days? 5 years? God, he can’t remember anymore, just being away from you felt like an eternity, it was driving him insane..

Maybe next time the both of you meet you can go out for a drink together.. he smiled a little at that, perhaps he could invite you to a garden and talk to each other and learn more about you..

“Dear? What are you smiling at?” The gratingly annoying voice of his wife chimed in, anger rose inside him, taking most of his willpower to keep a calm mind and most importantly of all not to lash out at her,

“It’s none of your concern, Ume.” He answered coldly, glaring at her, a small vein sprawling across his temple in irritation,

She looked taken aback by her husband snapping at her, her smooth caramel tinted skin draining of color, her wonder turning into a fear in a flash,

Just as she was going to open her mouth to apologize Alejandro cut her off, 

“—I’m going to go take a shower, I’m finished with my diner, wash the dishes please.” He instructed as he left but not before giving her a pointed look,

Alejandro shut the bedroom door behind him, huffing as he sat on his and Ume’s shared bed

Ume wouldn’t understand, she would break down if she ever found out he had developed romantic feelings for someone else,

As soon as he makes developments in yours and his relationship he will make sure to get divorce papers signed immediately,

He wouldn’t want you to think he was unfaithful, because he isn’t.

His marriage never worked out anyway, he can only imagine the beautiful domestic life you would have with him,

He wouldn’t have to come into office, he could be your stay at home husband! He knows how to cook, clean and overall good spouse.. He spent most of his childhood honing these skills by taking care of his little sister,

He simply goes into work to avoid having to see his insufferable wife, even a minute away from her made his life expectancy slightly increase,

He opened the water, staring at his reflection before stepping into the shower,

Cold water ran from the shower head, landing refreshingly on the tall males’ back and body,

He sighed, relaxation seeping into his body slowly and steadily, he leaned his body weight onto his forearms,

His forehead rested on the cool shower walls, cleansing his thoughts for just a moment, his long hair stuck to his forehead and shoulders as water slipped off in small droplets,

 as hard as he tried he couldn’t fend away certain thoughts, all of them being of You. You. You. Ý̵̯͙̰̾Ô̸̱͉̖̣̾͝Ú̷͎͍.

Look at what you have reduced him to.. A lovesick fool.. craving nothing more than you— It has only been five days, yet you live in his brain and heart like maggots, digging deeper and deeper into him..

Yet he didn’t care, he would allow you to do so because he knew that he secretly liked it, he liked having someone to obsess over and follow like a lovesick puppy,

he had been saving his love for too long, and now it seems that you pulled the trigger on his heart, for this dangerous love ridden russian roulette has just started.

He now understands why he suffered for so many years, he sees now that it was all for you, it seems that god has gotten tired of torturing him and sent you, as his savior— his light.

If he knew things would come to this he would have chosen to suffer again and again, continuing what appeared to be an endless cycle just to be able to meet you and reach zenith.

He is holding his heart in his hands for you, it was you awakened feelings he never thought were real, now assume the consequences of your actions, won’t you, love?

Ume stalked the halls of the huge mansion, her heart feeling heavy after she upset her beloved husband,

She smoothened down her dress as she shakily opened the bedroom door, seeing that the room was empty she sat down on the bed,

Staring at the bedroom door longingly she decided to slightly peek through a crack in the doorway,

The water landed against the shower floor, helping muffle out the small whimpers and moans that were heard from Alejandro,

His hand fisted his cock rapidly, his hips bucking into his soft hand to feel some kind of friction, the sound of his hand clapping against his skin being audible even with the drizzling water ambients,

Ume’s eyes widened, never had she though her husband could ever make such.. Sinful sounds, it seemed he was saying something between the strangled sounds of pleasure..

“—N).. (Y/N).. Mmph! (Y/N), please..” 

(Y/N)? Who was this (Y/N)? Why was her husband saying that name? Was he cheating on her?

Her green eyes zeroed in on his body, watching as his back would arch and tremble whenever he would get close to climax,

Ume had tried a handful of times to get some kind of intimacy going on with Alejandro, going as far as getting some.. Aphrodisiac products, however it seemed that even under the influence of such hard core drugs he would rather deal with it himself than come close to her,

His free hand roamed his body, soon reaching up against his chest and starting to play with the soft muscle, 

Delivering soft and hard squeezes, soft groans muddled with mutters of “I love you”s slipped out of his lips,

Dampened hair fell over his eyes as he pressed his cheek against his shoulder, gentle sobs mixed with the sound of water running,

His thrusts slowed down as his thighs pressed together, with a final cry of your name the knot in his stomach came undone,

Loads and loads of white semen painted a section of the tiled shower walls, he kept thrusting into the air, riding out his high.

Ume closed the door quietly, sitting on the bed she placed her hands over her face, her well manicured nails digging into the sides of her soft face,

Whoever this.. (Y/N) was she was going to speak to, and it’s not going to be pretty.

Alejandro was her husband, hers only, and she was willing to fight tooth and nail for him,

The bathroom door opened, showing the ruby eyed man walking out with a towel wrapped around his waist, delicate beads of water dripping off his hair and rolling down his skin abdomen,

“Is there something wrong?” He asked with a raise of his eyebrow, eyeing her down menacingly,

The pretty woman but her lips while smiling, kicking off her shoes and spreading her legs open, an idea popping into her head

“Well.. perhaps, I’m feeling awfully.. Hot down there, help me will you?”

It had been 3 months precisely, it was your court date, you dressed up as best as you could afford, brushing your hair neatly and ironing your clothes to perfection,

You arrived early, looking at the huge court with furrowed brows and crudely covered dark circles, you weren’t able to get a wink of sleep last night,

Your mind couldn’t stop thinking of all the worst possible scenarios— What If you lost and went to jail? What if you were forced to sleep with a crazy cell mate? Sentenced to death? Having to use forks as hair brushes for the end of your days?!

A hand gently fell on your head, softly caressing your hair, you met scarlet eyes, beautiful eyes, the same shade as blood,

“Everything is going to be alright, I can assure you that, so please don’t worry your pretty little head over whatever you are thinking, will you promise me that?” You knew that voice, that was your lawyers voice, it was always so soothing to you, never was his voice rough or hoarse, it was always so warm and gentle..

You nodded, your worries calming down slightly, you weren’t expecting it but it sure was meaningful to you, you knew he was very.. Stoic most of the time, you liked to think he might have a soft spot for you, although the probability of that is probably non existent, oh how you were so so wrong.

The both of you entered the court, you were sweating buckets of sweat, pulling at your collar once in a while to try and freshen yourself up,

“Defendants please rise.” The judge called out, her voice strong and authoritative,

The both of you stood up, you were so nervous in the moment that you totally ignored Alejandro’s hand clasped around yours, his fingers intertwined tightly in between yours,

Alejandro was right, he was good, good was a massive understatement, he got evidence from places you didn’t even recognize, you had no idea if some of the documents had been falsified or not due to how legit they looked,

By the end of court you weren’t the one in cuffs, but the mother of the little boy, who had been taken into custody,

She yelled profanities at you, kicking and screaming at the police men to let her go,

Alejandro stood in front of you protectively, eyes narrowed into a glare, gaze as sharp as knives and glass shards,

You were so happy and relieved, weight had been lifted off your shoulders, you felt as if you were going to cry or happiness,

Your chest felt light as you hugged Alejandro, thanking him a million times over and over,

Had you overstepped boundaries? Maybe, Would Alejandro normally flip out and do something unseemly? If you were someone else, yes.

But it’s you, how could he deny you of something he had been wanting to do for a long time? How? So he wasn’t.

He deserved this too, he had gone through so much trouble to fake so much evidence to get that dirty bitch in jail, and you were willingly giving him his reward,

He basically threw himself on you, his arms over your head, he adjusted your arms on his waist, letting you hug him as close as you desired,

His face was close to your hair— so so close to you, he just had to smell you, just one second, please please please please please please.

He breathed in your scent, his eyes threatening to roll back into his head, you smelled so good, he knew his wife was in the audience but he couldn’t give less of a fuck,

Let her watch, let her see how he loved you so much more, he didn’t care anymore, he wasn’t going to hide it anymore, because it was true he had become so intimately infatuated with you he couldn’t even stand being a moment without you,

He had all he ever wanted right in his arms, and he didn’t care what he had to do to make you his, 

He didn’t care if he had to frame innocent people over and over again, he didn’t care if he had to make shady deals with hackers or mafia men, he will do crazy shit and get away with it!

If he had to let the world burn for you he would turn the world ablaze until only ash and cinder was left, only to light it on fire again over and over just to prove how much he loved you.

His eyes met his “wife”’s emerald like gaze, her eyes shining under light with jealousy, he knew she wanted to tear the both of you apart,

But he wouldn’t let her, as he would be the one ripping her to shreds this time around,

He will do anything and he means everything for you. 

He would do it all in your name. ♡

[hoshifighting]

seungcheol as a sugar baby!

— WARNINGS: sugar mommy x sugar baby relationship, smut, semi-public sex, elevator sex, fingering while driving (don't do it), office sex, hesitant cheol. — (Seventeen as Sugar Baby's Series)

it started with a laughable idea—a ceo and a sugar baby. who would’ve thought? but you saw something in seungcheol, beyond that stubborn pride of his, beyond the way his jaw clenched every time you handed over those thick stacks of cash. he hated it, you knew. it burned him inside to take your money, but he needed it, and more importantly, he wanted to succeed on his own.

“i don’t need you to do this, y/n,” he’d grumble, fingers brushing yours as you slid the envelope across the table. his voice was always a blend of annoyance and gratitude, as if saying thank you would taste like sand in his mouth.

“shut up and take it,” you’d say, rolling your eyes, hiding the way your heart picked up speed whenever his fingers lingered on yours just a little too long. “it’s an investment, remember? you’re gonna make it big, and then you’ll pay me back with interest.”

he never knew that you were already invested, not just in his company but in him. you’d been silently funding those little bursts of success he’d had—the ones he’d been so damn proud of. “i got another client today,” he’d say with that boyish grin, chest puffed out like he was on top of the world. it made you happy to see him so excited, even if the real reason for his sudden growth was because of you.

he wasn’t stupid, though. he’d show up at your place, dressed in clothes that you knew cost him a small fortune, and bring you gifts that screamed of desperation to impress. “i got you something,” he’d say, almost shyly, as if he wasn’t sure if you’d like it or not. and of course, you’d always smile and take whatever it was—a designer bag, an expensive watch, anything to make him feel better about taking your money.

“you know you don’t have to do this, cheol,” you’d tell him, pulling him close, your fingers trailing down his chest. “i just need you.”

he’d laugh, shaking his head like you were talking nonsense. “can’t let you spoil me without giving something back,” he’d mutter, lips brushing against your neck, making you shiver.

the day he showed up with a fluffy white puppy, though, that was when you knew it had all gone to hell. you took one look at that tiny, trembling thing in his arms, and your heart fucking melted.

“you serious?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady, even as the puppy wiggled its way into your arms.

“you like it?” he asked, and there was something in his eyes, something soft and vulnerable that you hadn’t seen before. “thought you could use some company when i’m not around.”

you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, couldn’t stop the way your chest tightened with something warm and dangerous. “it’s perfect, cheol,” you whispered, your eyes locking with his.

that was it. you were gone. totally fucking in love with him. and the crazy part? he felt the same way.

“you know,” he said, scratching the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you, “this thing between us…it’s not just about the money anymore.”

“no shit,” you shot back, your tone teasing, but your heart was pounding. “you think i’m in this just to throw cash at you?”

he laughed, the sound rich and deep, and it made you weak. “nah, i know you better than that.”

seungcheol wasn’t just playing the part anymore; he really knew you. it showed in the way he’d show up at your office whenever you were in one of those moods—pissed off and ready to tear someone a new one. you’d barely have time to close your laptop before he’d be there, locking the door behind him with that smirk on his face.

“you know what you need?” he’d say, already undoing the buttons of your blouse as he walked over to your desk, that swagger in his step making your breath hitch.

“cheol, i’ve got work—” you’d start, but it was a weak protest, and you both knew it. the moment his hands were on you, all coherent thoughts went out the window. he’d push you against your glass table, cool surface pressing into your bare tits as he yanked up your skirt.

“let me handle this,” he’d whisper in your ear, and that was it. you were done for. his fingers would find your core, already slick and ready, and the way he’d fuck you right there, leaving imprints of your heated body on the cold glass, would make you forget why you were angry in the first place.

and of course, he’d clean up after. every trace of your reckless encounter wiped away like it never happened, leaving you to pull yourself together and face the world like the unshakeable ceo everyone believed you to be.

but it didn’t stop there. the way he took care of you was relentless, even when you were driving home. he’d slip his hand between your thighs, fingers finding their way under your skirt, teasing you, pushing you to the edge. the car would swerve slightly as he played with you, and he’d chuckle, leaning over to take the wheel when your body shuddered with release. “focus on driving,” he’d tease, but the way his fingers stayed inside you, lazy and possessive, told you he loved watching you lose control.

and then there were the nights he’d show up at your place unannounced. he’d wait until you were on a call, talking business, before pulling you into his lap, lifting your hips just enough to slide his cock inside you, slow and deliberate. he loved testing your resolve, seeing how long you could keep a straight face while he fucked you slowly, making you squirm on top of him, trying to keep your voice steady.

sometimes, he’d wake you up in the middle of the night, slipping into bed beside you, his hands already working you open, kissing your neck, your back, until you were moaning into the pillow. “needed you,” he’d whisper, voice husky and laced with sleep, but you knew that wasn’t the whole truth. he needed you, yes, but you needed him just as much.

he even had a habit of pulling you into the private elevator in your building, pressing the emergency stop button just to have you to himself for a few more minutes. you’d be pinned against the mirrored walls, his hands all over you, mouth on yours, devouring every moan that slipped out. the ride would resume as if nothing had happened, but the way your clothes were a little more rumpled, the way your lips were a little more swollen, would always be a reminder of just how far gone you both were.

[natalievoncatte]

It wasn’t Kara that destroyed her.

In her secret heart, Lena craved that. She wanted Kara to give back everything Lena had thrown at her. Defeat her. Crush her. Cast her down and treat her like a villain. After all, why had Kara lied? Conspired? Tricked her and manipulated her? Why do all that if she wasn’t a villain?

In her quietest moments with Myriad in her hands or staring at the twisted visage of an alien murderer, a quiet voice from deep within her whispered the truth she could never let herself feel:

This is what you are. It’s in the blood.

If Kara would just treat her like a villain, it would all make sense. There would be no more nagging doubts, no more questions, no more hateful longing. Lena has done everything she could to carve it out of her chest, but it gave her no relief, only the raw throbbing pain of a ragged wound that wouldn’t close.

Then she had been at L-Corp when Jess ran into her office in a blind panic, shouting that she had to turn the television on now, that something terrible had happened.

Lena stared at her dumbly because she already knew. She could feel it somehow, a wash of graveyard chill that enveloped her from nowhere and froze the rotten lump where her heart had been. Her hand shook as she lifted the remote and turned on the screen.

The news chyron stuck her like a hammer blow to the chest and her pathetic excuse for a last meal -a cold half of a Big Belly burger she’d eaten the night before- leapt into her throat, trying to escape.

Supergirl Dead?

They hadn’t called her, and why would they? Why seek her help after all she’d done?

Lena pushed to her feet, almost tumbling to the floor in the process. The news was repeating a ten-second clip, showing a red-white beam slicing through the midday air, so bright that it distorted the image as it struck a tiny blue and red blur and knocked her out of the sky as if a giant hand had swatted her to the ground.

She was moving before she realized she’d taken a step.

“Cancel all my meetings,” Lena snapped.

“But the Japanese investors,” Jess said, lamely.

“Fuck the Japanese investors, cancel all my meetings!”

She pushed past Jess and stormed to her private elevator, twisting the key so hard it nearly snapped. She paced the full two minutes it took to to descend to the garage. There would be no summoning a driver. She ran barefoot across the parking garage floor to the Bugatti and threw herself inside.

When she arrived at the DEO, there was chaos. It took a moment before anyone noticed a barefoot, red-eyed Lena Luthor running into the lobby in a blind panic. When they did notice, she was immediately tackled by two of their goons and handcuffs slammed on her wrists.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded. “I’m here to help!”

“Shut up,” the agent growled.

They sent jolts of pain up her arms as they took her in. She thought they were going to take the handcuffs off, but instead they cuffed one hand to a chain locked to a ring in the middle of a concrete table in an interrogation room.

“What the hell?” Lena screamed. “I’m here to help her!”

The door slammed heavily shit and Lena raged, yanking at the handcuffs in a futile gesture that only left her wrist raw. She thought about trying to pick them, but at this rate they might shoot her if she looked to escape. Her stomach sank and she began to spiral.

She’s dead. She’s dead and they’re going to blame me.

Hot tears burned in her eyes and she willed them not to fall, holding them back with all her might, but it was inevitable.

Finally, after what felt like half a day, Alex walked in. Lena knew at once that something terrible had happened. Kara’s sister looked like hell, with dark circles under her eyes and a pained look. She regarded Lena as if she were some ugly thing that crawled out of a crack in the foundations.

“What are you doing here?” said Alex.

“I told your thugs, I’m here to help. You’re wasting time, I need to see her now.”

“Why,” Alex said, “why on God’s green earth would I let you anywhere near her?”

Lena blinked. “At least tell me what’s wrong. I might be able to…”

“You locked her in a kryptonite cage. You talked her into breaching her morals to carry out your sick schemes. You aimed a kryptonite cannon at her face.”

“I…”

“You what? You didn’t mean it?”

“Alex,” Lena began.

“Shut up. You had me fooled, Luthor. Kara always believed in you. I didn’t. I tried to convince her to be as afraid of her as I was. I just want to know, why now? She left you alone like you wanted. You’ve been quiet. Kara insisted we give you a chance and let you be, a choice I now deeply regret. So why now? What did she do to deserve this?”

The cold fury radiating from Alex choked Lena up for a moment. Her mouth worked silently.

“You think I did this?”

“Why not? You’ve hurt her twice already.”

“I didn’t. I would never. I didn’t want her to die. I just wanted to…”

“To what?”

Lena swallowed hard, speaking before thinking.

“I wanted her to feel what I was feeling.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed and her expression went dark and hard, something vicious twisting her lips. Her hand twitched towards the bulky alien gun on her hip.

With her other hand, she pulled out a phone and turned it to Lena.

Lena’s stomach flipped when she saw Lex’s grinning face.

“I hope you enjoy your new present,” he said into the camera. “A Kryptonite particle beam enhanced with a high-powered laser tuned to a wavelength that will instantly negate her powers.”

Lex’s grin widened.

“Lena sends her regards.”

Lena blinked a few times. She wanted to thrash, yank her chain, accuse, scream.

“That’s impossible.”

“Why, because you wouldn’t?”

“I killed him,” Lena breathed.

“What?”

“Lex. Lex is dead. I killed him. I killed him!” she was almost hysterical. “I put two shots in his chest and one in his head like he taught me himself. After he escaped last time I killed him.”

Alex’s expression faltered.

“You think I’ll believe that?” she said, but sounded unsure.

“When I was twelve and Lex was away at school, Lillian got drunk and threatened me. I was scared to death she meant it. Lex gave me our father’s gun and taught me to shoot.” A brief, weak smile cursed her lips. “I didn’t realize until a lot later how fucked up that is, but it’s one of my favorite memories of him.”

“You’re telling me you killed him,” said Alex. “After you went behind our backs and used the Hardin-El to heal his ‘cancer.’”

“He was my brother.”

“And you say you killed him.”

Lena looked down, away from her. Tears fell on the table with a soft patter and she choked back a hitching sob.

“She became his new fixation. He was never going to stop. I did what I had to do.”

Alex went silent. Her hand hung by her hip and part of Lena hoped she’d make it fast, the same part that flinched when Alex moved.

The key twisted in the lock and the cuffs ratcheted open. Alex gave her arm a sharp tug. “Get up.”

Lena wobbled to her feet.

“What are you doing?”

“Shut up and walk.”

Alex led her to the elevator, and down a corridor. Kara’s frail form lay behind a layer of plastic curtains, bathed in brilliant light from sunlamps.

“If she comes around,” Alex said, her voice flat. “You can never tell her. She’ll blame herself.”

Alex parted the curtains and led Lena inside. Kara lay n a stretcher with a layer of bandages wound around her bare torso, looking pale and drawn. Her skin shone with a cold sweat and there were dark circles around her eyes. She lay in a nest of wires and was on oxygen.

“My God,” Lena whispered.

“It was like he said. Some kind of particle beam combined with the laser. It’s like she was impaled through the chest with superheated Kryptonite. If Jon hadn’t caught her, the impact would have been fatal.”

Alex rattled it all off with a cold, medical detachment, except for the tension creaking in around the edges of her voice and the way her shoulder hitched.

“You’ve hurt her so much,” Alex whispered. “I don’t think I’m ever going to fully trust you again. But for the love of God, if you can fix her then fix her.”

“I will,” Lena said, the CEO creeping back into her voice. “I’ll need materials from my lab. I’ll give a Brainy a list. I’m not leaving her.”

Lena did not sleep for another thirty-six hours. She worked tirelessly alongside Brainy, who regarded her curiously as she hunched over lab benches and uploaded instructions to nanites.

Finally she said, “what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

He turned back to his own task without answering her.

An hour later, Alex stormed in.

“She’s getting worse. Whatever you’re doing, you have to hurry.”

Brainy turned from his lab bench and took Alex’s arm. He led her into the hall and they had a clipped, quiet conversation that Lena could not hear, except for Alex’s startled cry of “WHAT?”

It didn’t matter, she was finished. She took the devil in her hands and rushed through the door.

“Let’s go, we can’t waste anymore time.”

Alex openly gaped at her, then looked at Brainy. The expression of utter shock on her face arrested Lena in her tracks.

“What?”

“I,” Alex began, but Brainy grabbed her arm and squeezed hard.

“Let’s go,” said Alex.

Lena swept into the lab carrying the module in her hands as if it were made of precious gold.

“Turn off the sunlamps,” Lena ordered the technicians. “If the poisoning progresses, they’ll kill her faster than they heal her.”

Once they were off, Lena placed the device on Kara’s chest and stepped back.

Its sensors detected the Kryptonite and the system deployed. The pod unfolded like a delicate composite flower, and a wave of nanobots poured over Kara’s skin, instantly devouring and reprogramming the nanites in the wreckage of her suit while consuming the linens and bandages to grant the system more mass.

The entire process unfolded in seconds. It ensconced her in a protective layer and expanded, rapidly building an entire protective pod around her body. Dozens of tiny needles inserted dozens of cannulas into her arms and legs and began pumping her full of nanites, sending them storming through her bloodstream.

Lena bit her lip: there was nothing to do now except watch as the system’s AI administered rapid pulses of red and yellow light to balance the speed of her healing as the nanites in her bloodstream identified irradiated particles and consumed them, using them to make more of themselves.

She sat down. She knew this would take hours.

It ended up taking three days.

Lena slept in the side chair by the bed until someone brought her an uncomfortable recliner. Alex came in and out, as did Brainy and Nia, all of them looking at her oddly.

Finally the pod made a pleasant tone and unfolded. Kara lay on her side within, the nanites having formed a new suit top around her to preserve her modesty. She still wasn’t awake, but she was breathing normally and looked for all the world like her usual beautiful self. Lena was alone with her when it happened, and was glad of it. No one saw her brush the loose strands of gold from her face, and no one saw her rest her palm on Kara’s warm cheek.

They all piled on eventually.

Kara did not wake up.

“Why isn’t she coming around?” Alex demanded. “Why doesn’t she wake up?”

“She’s in a Kryptonian healing trance,” said Brainy. “It’s part of the healing process. She will wake when she is ready.”

“When the hell will that be?”

“We should give Lena the room.”

“What? Why?”

“Trust me,” Brainy said firmly.

Lean was as bewildered as Alex. What was she supposed to do?

When they were gone, she caught herself reflected in the monitors around the bed. She looked like shit, with barely one day’s sleep in four. As haggard as she looked, she didn’t care.

What the hell? It couldn’t hurt.

Lena bent over the bed, leaning on one hand, and took Kara’s in the other.

“I don’t know if you’re in there, but if you can hear me, it’s safe now. You can wake up. We’re all here for you. I’m here.”

It might have been the exhaustion, or the desperation, or the sorrow that filled her to bursting like a molten pain, but something happened and Lena let slip something that she’d held so tight she was sure her heart had long since crushed it.

“I love you, Kara. You don’t have to love me back. You don’t even have to like me. But I need you in the world. I need you. I need you, not Supergirl. I need Kara. I need my Kara. Please, if you’re in there at all,”

Kara’s eyes fluttered open. “Lena?”

“I’m here.”

Kara blinked a few times, and her hand closed gently around Lena’s.

“I had a bad dream,” she said. “It hurt so much, it felt like my heart was ripped out and I was in a dark place, and then I heard your voice leading me home.”

Lena grinned in spite of herself, tears stinging her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Kara. For everything.”

“Hush,” Kara whispered, her angelic voice full of quiet wisdom. “We can do that later. You’re tired. Lay down.”

Lena hesitated for a bare moment and then kicked off her shoes before climbing on next to her. Once she was lying down, sleep came crashing down on her like an avalanche as Kara threw an arm over her and tucked in close.

As she drifted off, Lena heard Alex, somewhere in the hall, snap, “Brainy, you knew this entire time?!”

[lovelucilfer]

"Would you look at that..." Soshiro snickers from above, his tongue darting from between his lips to wet them as he gazes down at you, his pupils blown wide, "You're a natural, aren't ya?"

You whimper at his praise, humiliating as it is, and he feels the muffled sound of it send a vibration up the length of his cock that's deep in your throat. His hand cups the side of your neck, thumb stroking along the column of sensitive skin as you sputter and drool with your lips wrapped around him. While the other gently cradles the back of your head as Soshiro stuffs himself further into your mouth — the very thing that had landed you here on your knees in the first place.

"Imagine what your fellow officers would think if they could see you right now, huh?" he rasps, his breathing slightly ragged, "Taking me like such a good girl after all that talkin' back..."

A low hum of approval follows the teasing emphasis of his words, causing your cheeks to blaze with embarrassment at how much you like it. There's mirth in Soshiro's eyes. But the way that he grins at you, so unabashedly, as he watches you flush only makes even more heat pervade throughout your body. Though this time it comes in the form of arousal pooling hotly between your thighs as he continues to thrust forward lazily. You try to squeeze them together discreetly, a feeble attempt to suppress the growing need with even a little bit of friction, but he's too perceptive. He catches the movement immediately.

"You love this, don't ya? Letting your vice-captain use your pretty mouth like this?" Soshiro provokes, smiling wickedly as he pants, his fingers curling into your hair with a soft tug to tilt your head to force your gaze on him, "Say it."

You nearly choke in response to his compliment, spit bubbling out and dripping down his shaft and your chin as his question leaves your aching pussy clenching around nothing. Soshiro chuckles breathily at the sight, amusement sparking in his eyes. Needing air, your inhale causes you to slurp lewdly before he's pulling his hips back with a hiss and a hand gripped firmly at the base of his length. He taps the sticky tip of his cock against your tongue, smearing the mess of your saliva and his precum along your bottom lip, his chest heaving with shallow breaths as he waits expectantly.

"S-Sir... Soshiro—" you gasp softly, quick to correct yourself as you blink up at him, hoping for some respite as you nod imperceptibly, "You know I do..." comes your flustered admission after a pause, shame mixing with the desire that simmers white-hot in your gut.

Soshiro grins, satisfied by your compliance and the way that your cheeks redden under his attention. He gives his cock a few languid pumps with his fist, his grip tightening slightly in your hair before guiding it back into your mouth. Your eyes well up as he works it in again, a needy whine escaping your throat as he pushes until the head nudges against the back of it, making him groan in pleasure as the wet heat envelopes him once more. But Soshiro only takes delight in it.

"Oh, don't cry, sweetheart," he taunts with a click of his tongue, smirking as he uses his thumb to brush a stray tear from rolling down your cheek, "This is nothin'. Much better than a couple hundred push-ups, don't ya think?"

[tojis-gf]

personal stress reliever

author's note: yes bitch i struggled w this one so bad 😭 i had no clue how to go about writing this n i also didn't want to rush it but i didn't wanna like make it too long (n i probably did jus that, sowwy). o yea i also only like proofread this for like not even 5 mins so hehe

imagine toji in yet another zoom call for work n he's jus been so swamped and stressed with work that you jus wanna make him feel good. you look over at him while you lie on your back on the little black couch in the corner of his office, leaning back in his chair, hand against his lips and thumb resting under his chin as he listens to his business partner shiu ramble on about some changes the company is making. sounds absolutely fucking boring. so like the amazing gf and personal stress reliever you are, you decide to go and do that in the best way you knew possible.

you get up and get on your hands n knees n crawl under toji's desk, resting your plump ass on the heels of your feet, peering up at him from underneath with those big brown doe eyes, and bringing your index finger to your lips to tell him to keep it down. all he can do is look at you with wide eyes, already knowing what you were about to pull, but he lets you continue anyway.

you pull your perky tits from your tight little tank top, bouncing on release, and begin to unfasten his belt and undo his pants, pulling them down just enough for his cock to spring out, slapping against his lower abdomen. your mouth begins to salivate just at the sight of it. wanting to waste no time, you take his shaft in your delicate hands and begin to plant kisses from his tip all the way to the base of his cock before enveloping your plump lips around his reddened head.

you begin bobbing your head up and down taking in all of his fat cock, slobbering all over it, making it messy and nasty, just how toji likes it. one of his hands finds purchase on your head, pushing you down further, his fat mushroom head reaching your uvula, causing you to gag on his dick, saliva dribbling down the sides of your mouth and tears begin the well up in your eyes. unfortunately, toji's camera wasn't off; eyes half-lidded as he threw his head back, and a hand went up to cover his face as he let off a low grunt.

"mr. fushiguro? is everything alright?" one of the female employees says with concern.

"o-oh yeah 'm fine, just a headache that's all..i'll uh be right back," he mutters as he mutes himself and turns off his camera.

"fuckkk just like that princess," he moans as your tongue traces the prominent vein on his cock. you continue bobbling up and down on his cock, wrists twisting in a rhythmic movement as you continued to take him in your warm mouth. "missed that fuckin' tight little throat of yers, been so buried in work i forgot how fuckin' nasty that little mouth of yers was- shitt"

detaching your mouth from his cock, "jus wanted to make you feel good daddy, n i know how stressed you've been lately..." you say while pumping his cock in your hand "so jus sit back n relax baby, okay?"

"fuckk..yea okay doll.." toji mumbles as he lets off a groan. toji readjusts himself in his office chair so that he's now leaning back, hands behind his head as he lets you work your magic.

you place his cock in between your fat perky tits, holding them as you move up and down his shaft, occasionally giving his angry red head little kitten licks. you watch him gaze in awe as he watches his cock being devoured by your tits. "shit, i could watch my cock get swallowed by those perfect tits of yours all fuckin' day princess"

after a few minutes, toji begins growing impatient and begins to thrust his hips upward. not long after, his thrusts begin to get sloppier and his breaths begin to get heavier, signaling that he was close. "ohh fuckk just like that.."

after a few more thrusts, thick, white ropes of cum splattered all over your tits, and god does toji enjoy the view.

"fuck..ya gotta do that more often ma" he laughs as he catches his breath. you stand up with a grin on your face leaning in to press a kiss onto his lips, "anytime you want, baby"

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[the-offside-rule]

Pablo Gavi (FCBarcelona) - Double Trouble

Requested: yes

Prompt: 1) Attending a baby scan

Warnings: nope

Baby Promptlist

Pablo sat nervously outside the doctor's office, his leg bouncing up and down in a restless rhythm. He glanced at the clock on the wall for what felt like the hundredth time, mentally willing time to move faster. Next to him, Y/n leafed through the pregnancy pamphlets she had picked up during her last doctor's visit, trying to distract herself from the nerves. Her eyes kept glancing quickly over to Pablo,his legs jittering and his head darting around the room trying to find something, anything to take his mind off the appointment. "Are you okay?" Y/n asked, setting her pamphlet onto her lap. "I- yes. I'm just a little nervous." Pablo replied, looking down towards the ground. Y/n took his hand and gave it a light squeeze. "Hey." Y/n said softly. "It's going to be okay. We've got this."

Pablo managed a weak smile, squeezing her hand tightly. "I know, but what if something's wrong? What if-" Y/n cut him off gently. "Pablo, we've been through this. Everything's been going smoothly so far, and the doctor said everything looked good at our last appointment." Pablo took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. "You're right. I just can't shake this feeling." Y/n leaned closer, placing a reassuring kiss on his cheek. "We're in this together, remember? No matter what happens, we'll face it together."

Feeling slightly calmer, Pablo nodded, grateful for Y/n's unwavering support. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, until a nurse called their names, signaling it was time for their appointment. As they entered the examination room, Pablo's nerves resurfaced, but Y/n's steady presence beside him helped to ease his anxiety. They watched as the doctor squirted the gel onto her belly, making her tense up from how cold it was. "Are you okay?" Pablo whispered. "It's just cold." She chuckled as the nurse began the appointment. The young couple watched as the nurse performed the ultrasound, the room filling with the sound of their unborn baby's heartbeat.

"Is everything okay?" Pablo asked,holding onto Y/n's hand. "Yes, Mr Gavira. Both babies are perfectly healthy." Y/n and Pablo's face dropped. "Both?" Y/n asked, wanting some clarity. Then, the moment of truth arrived as the doctor turned the screen towards them, revealing not one, but two tiny figures in black and white. "T-twins?" Pablo stammered, his eyes widening in shock. Y/n's heart swelled with emotion as she squeezed Pablo's hand tightly. "Twins." She confirmed, her voice filled with wonder. They exchanged stunned looks before bursting into laughter, the tension of the moment evaporating into joyous relief.

"Those are our babies." Pablo whispered, his eyes shining with tears of happiness. "We're going to be parents." Y/n nodded, her own eyes brimming with tears. "Parents of twins." She added, a wide smile spreading across her face.

As the couple walked out of the doctor's office, Pablo had grabbed a few more pamphlets. "More? I think we have enough in the car." Y/n smiled. "No, these are the pamphlets for having twins, then the ones on how to make your pregnancy easy, and then-" Y/n pecked his cheek before interlocking her fingers with his. "I think we will be fine, babe." Pablo nodded. "Can I see the photo again?" Y/n handed him the small envelope. He carefully took out the few ultrasound photos of his children and smiled upon looking at them. "They're so beautiful." Pablo whispered. "They don't even have a face yet." Y/n chuckled as they reached the car. "But look at us. They have good genes, they have to be beautiful."

[souliebird]

[[and then i met you || ch.1]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary: A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s.

a/n: Reader is an extremely anxious person. That’s the note.

words: 5.6k

You hope Matthew Michael Murdock is a good man. 

You tried to research him online, but you didn't find anything that could sway you one way or another.

The news articles say he's some sort of local hero - not only for being a lawyer who does a lot of pro-bono work but for saving a man from being hit by a truck when he was a kid. They all give his tragic backstory before praising him and his law partner for helping the underprivileged and going after some big shot corrupt businessman - twice. The comments are mostly from people he's helped, singing about how Nelson and Murdock saved them in their times of crisis. 

You want to trust them, but you can't.

The news also claimed Hitler was Person of the Year and deserved praise, too, and you know how that turned out. Not that you think a blind lawyer from Hell's Kitchen can be compared to a genocidal leader, but your mental point to yourself still stands. 

You know nothing about Matthew Murdock except he's blind, he's a lawyer, and his dick changed your life. 

You doubt he even remembers you - a one-night stand from years ago, before his name even started appearing in the news again, and to be fair, you didn't remember him at first, either. Not until four months later when you went in to get your anxiety medication adjusted and the doctor made you take a routine pregnancy test. Then you remembered the handsome blind lawyer who flirted with you at a friend's holiday party you had gone to. You could remember the silly conversation you had about white elephant, that he had the most charming smile, and he could do things with his tongue that made you moan just thinking about, but you could not remember his name. 

You had tried to find him, you really did, but your energy and attention was quickly needed elsewhere and the search for your daughter's father lost steam.

Until you saw him on the television while at the local diner, giving an interview with his law partner. 

That was yesterday and now you are standing outside the door of his firm, trying to work up the courage to go in. 

There's too many scenarios in your head, all of them bad- he's not going to want anything to do with you and your daughter, which you can deal with, or maybe, just maybe, he'll try to take her away from you. He's a lawyer and you work in billing for a transportation company. There's no doubt who the courts would choose and it wouldn't be you. 

The thought makes you want to turn and run but you know your daughter deserves the chance to know her father - and he deserves to know she exists. It's his choice, once he knows, if he wants to be in her life or not, not yours. 

It scares you so much it's not your choice. 

You scrub at your face, trying to work up the courage to actually open the door in front of you when it does just that. 

A kind looking woman with strawberry blonde hair is standing in the doorway and you recognize her from the firm's website - Karen Page. She's the third partner in the firm and you didn't really look into her in your hunt for information. 

She offers you a smile before speaking, "You look like you're debating coming in." You shrug, unsure what to say because that is exactly what you were doing but don't want to admit it. She looks you over without it feeling judgmental before focusing on the manila envelope in your hand. She steps back slightly and gestures for you to come into the office. "You made it this far. Whatever it is, we'll do our best to help you."

The sentiment is so kind and you know she means well, thinking you are a potential client, but it just causes your throat to get even tighter. 

It has been you and your daughter for so long, is this really the right path to take? 

You hug your file to your chest and take a hesitant step forward. Then another and another until you are in the office. It's not big or fancy and you didn't expect it to be. There's a little waiting area in front of the reception desk, with another desk shoved against a wall, and on either side of the room, doors leading to what you suspect are the private offices. 

Karen goes around to the back of the reception desk and picks up a clipboard holding some paperwork and offers it out to you.

You take it and stare down at it, unsure if you would fill it out or not. When you look back up, Karen is still smiling at you and you don't want to come off as a problem, so you take a seat in the waiting area and start filling out the requested information. As you write out your address, it finally occurs to you that you have no idea how to have the conversation you need to have.

Do you ease into it or drop it on him like a bomb? You had only ever thought about finding him and never about what you would say when you did.

You should have taken more time to plan this out. You're such an idiot - you just jumped right into running towards him like you might lose track of him if you took so much as a second to think. You know his name now, who he is, you can take time to get things sorted out properly.

Would it be weird to leave in the middle of filling out paperwork you shouldn't even be bothering with?

Probably not, but you're already here. There is no point in running. 

This is for your daughter, not you. You have to keep telling yourself that.

You don't fill out the information asking about your 'case'. It honestly makes you panic a bit if you start thinking about it all in a legal sense - you know nothing about law and the man you're meeting with graduated at the top of his class from a top law school. Your hand is shaking as you add your signature to the bottom of the page and date it. Reviewing everything takes just a moment, since there's barely anything written to begin with, and your eyes drift up to the logo at the top of the page.

Nelson, Murdock, and Page.

You trace it with your finger.

Matthew Murdock has to be a good man. This firm helps people and he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to help people. He graduated top of his class; he could work anywhere he wanted to. The papers said he is good, too - they win most of their cases. 

Unless it's all a weird front to hide something like money laundering. 

But if they were money launders wouldn't they have enough money to afford an air conditioner? 

"All done?" 

Karen is in front of you, smiling politely. You are surprised by her appearance, but you don't feel pressured. It's like she's checking in so that she can break you out of your thoughts and you appreciate that. You nod and hand her the clipboard. She takes it, giving it a once over.

"Foggy will be out in just a minute."

Your head jerks up at that.

"No, I need to see Mr. Murdock."

You can tell Karen is surprised by that and her eyes narrow just a fraction. She searches your face, then she looks towards the door on the left. 

You turn your head to follow her gaze. 

"Matt!" Karen calls out.

A few moments pass before the door opens and you feel like you're going to throw up. 

The cameras don't do him justice. 

Matthew Murdock is gorgeous. He was handsome before and somehow, he just got hotter. He's a little taller than you, still as lean as you remember, and looking crisp in a gray suit - like some model walked off the catwalk and into a sweltering office. His hair is shorter than you remember it being. You have the distinct memory of being able to grab onto it, but it's too cropped to do that now.

But the thing that catches your attention the most is that in person and in the light, you can see Matthew's hair has an auburn tint to it.

Just like Minnie's. 

The realization shakes your entire world. 

This man is the father of your child. He's real. He's no longer a concept of a person, who you knew nothing about, who just existed somewhere in the world. 

You have to look away before you start to cry. You don't know where this surge of emotion is coming from - it feels like this wave of relief. This question you have always had finally has an answer. 

You tell yourself to take a breath, you know getting overly emotional isn't going to help anything. It might actually make things worse and spiraling into a meltdown is not a good first impression.

You can see Karen in your peripheral vision, and you look up to her, trying to regain your focus.

It's Matthew who speaks first, "Yes, Karen?"

"We have a walk-in who is hoping she can speak with you." 

You introduce yourself, standing up as you do. You know he is blind, so you don't offer your hand. Instead you clutch your folder to your chest. 

He doesn't seem to remember your name. He turns towards you and gives a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Matthew Murdock, but you seem to know that. I have some time right now, please come in. Karen, can you grab us some water before you join us?"

"Yeah, sure," Karen says as she turns to do just that. 

Your throat gets tight again. 

You don't want to have this conversation with someone else there. It's already going to be hard enough. You'll definitely start crying if Karen is in the room. You cannot deal with two people's reactions. The mere thought of you having to do that is making you sweat. 

Matthew's voice breaks you out of your panic. "If that is okay?"

You rush out your response, "I would prefer to speak alone, please." You're too panicked to feel embarrassment. 

Karen doesn't seem phased by this. She is still grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and offering one out to you. You take it. 

"Not a problem, let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Kare. Please, come this way," Matthew motions for you to follow him into the office. 

This is it.

Once you go through that door, you aren't leaving that room without telling Matthew Murdock he is a father. 

You surprise yourself by not hesitating and just charging forward into the office. 

This isn't about you or your fears. 

This is for Minnie. 

You keep your gaze forward because you can't bring yourself to look at him. If you stop and look at him before you tell him why you are here, you will just start over analyzing everything once again. You silently beg to whatever gods will listen that everything will be okay, and this man won't destroy you. 

He doesn't look like he is going to break your heart. 

But you know that looks mean nothing when it comes to pain. 

He closes the door behind you with an audible click and the weight of the moment starts to come down on your shoulders.

You take the seat in front of the desk quickly, worried your nerves might catch up with you, placing the water on the ground beside you with your purse when you sit. Matthew doesn't rush, he walks to his desk with an air of quiet confidence and if you were a client, it would be comforting, but you aren't and all it does is remind you why you fell into bed with him. 

"What brings you in today, Miss..?" He trails off, prompting you to say your name again. As he reaches his desk you watch as he trails his fingers along the edge, using it as a guide, before moving his hand to brush over the back of his seat before sitting in it. 

You chew your bottom lip, wishing you had taken a second to actually plan what you would say instead of jumping in. As far as you know, there isn't a step-by-step guide on how to tell a one-night stand that he's the father of your child - not that you actually looked into that in your desperate research the night before. 

Matthew doesn't push as you gather your thoughts. He moves some paperwork away from the center of his desk, then folds his hands there, waiting. You keep your gaze on his hands, needing something to focus your eyes on while you force the truth out.

"I saw your interview last night," you say, deciding to start there, as it seems the most relatable.

Matthew's brows knit together and he tilts his head to the side and you are one again reminded of Minnie. It's a gesture she does often, tilting her little head left and right as she tries to understand something. It always reminded you of a dog and now you wonder if it's not a learned behavior, but genetic. 

His lips turn down into a frown and his head stays cocked as he asks, "Do you have information about the Lynch case?"

Heat rushes to your cheeks - of course that would be the question to ask after bringing up the interview. The whole piece was about a specific case they were working on and how it would affect Hell's Kitchen and you hadn't paid any attention to what was said - not after you realized who was on the screen. 

You shake your head, resisting the urge to look away and you curl your fingers tighter around the manila folder in your lap. "No, I'm sorry. I saw you and…recognized you."

He straightens up and his demeanor shifts to something less…friendly. It's minute but your messed-up brain screams at you about body language - his shoulders have squared up and you can see where he's clenching his back teeth. You quickly continue on, wanting to get through with your explanation before your anxiety makes you clam up.

"We met nearly five years ago," your voice is firm and factual and you're proud of yourself for that, "at a holiday party." 

The words leave your mouth and you know he knows. Every part of him seems to go still - even his breathing seems to stop. The crease between his brow smoothes out, like he's gone from squinting to wide eyes behind his dark glasses. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your throat is getting stiff, but your voice remains steady as you push the words out.

"I think you are the father of my child."

All the color seems to leave Matthew's face and he looks nearly as gray as his suit. The reaction makes your stomach turn. He looks like he is going to throw up. 

You bite into your lip, waiting for Matthew to do or say something. All you can do is mentally chant to yourself: he's a good man, he won't take her away.

You know it's probably just seconds, but it feels like hours pass before Matthew moves.

He leans slowly back in his chair, reaching up with one hand to rub at his mouth. 

"Are you sure?"

He doesn't sound upset, at least to your ears. His words are cautious - tentative - and it makes your heart go tight in your chest. You don't know if it's fear or hope or everything crashing into you at once now that he knows.

You force out a nod before you remember that the man in front of you is blind. You find your voice and words creep out.

"I'm pretty sure," you start. Your eyes drop away from his hands back down to your lap and you have to lick at your lips to wet them before continuing, "I didn't go out much after that party, I got so busy with work. I didn't…find out until the first trimester was over. By then, I couldn't remember your name. My friends who I went to the party with didn't know you either. I tried to Google you with what information I had, but 'blind lawyer' just got me a lot of disability lawyers." You take a shaky breath, "I understand if you want a paternity test."

You know Matthew is probably taking everything in, but now that you've started talking, it's like you've lifted the dam on your anxiety. You squeeze the file in your lap - just because you hadn't known how you were going to tell Matthew the truth did not mean you hadn't extensively thought about the consequences. Words start to spill out of you.

"I also understand if you don't want anything to do with us, I get it's a big shock. I'm not looking for anything from you." Matthew drops his hand to the desk and if you didn't know better, it would look like he was staring at you. "I just wanted you to know and I thought it would be good for her to know you, but if you don't want that, I get it. All I ask is you fill out some paperwork, medical history mostly so I know if there's anything I need to look out for. I printed it out for you, it's all in braille." 

You get up just enough so that you can place the manila envelope on the desk, then sit back down. Your throat is getting so tight and stiff you feel like you're struggling to breathe. 

Matthew runs his hand over his desk until he can feel the envelope. His fingers move along the edge and you stare at them, like they are going to be the one to reveal what Matthew is thinking instead of his mouth. He finds the lip but doesn't open, instead flattening his palm against it.

"...her?"

His voice is so quiet you barely hear it. You lift your head to finally look at him and your heart skips a beat.

Matthew looks so soft. The corners of his lips twitch a few times before a smile slowly spreads across his face. 

And you know.

You know without a doubt he is your daughter's father. They have the exact same smile. You can't help but to grin as well. 

This is good, isn't it? He looks Happy. 

"I have a daughter.."

"Winifred.. Winifred Love," you offer. Matthew lifts his head and tilts it towards you, brow wrinkling slightly.

"Love…?" He asks, no judgment in his voice, only curiosity. 

You close your eyes in a bit of embarrassment, as you always do during the story, "I meant to put Grace, but I was out of it. I even put a big heart next to it on the paperwork." You aren't ashamed of the story and you love your daughter's name, but it's always a 'oops I was high' moment, even if it was done with the purest intention. 

If possible, Matthew's smile gets even bigger. 

"Winifred Love," he says, his voice dropping back down to the barely there whisper. 

"She goes by Minnie. Like, um.. Like Minnie Mouse," you say. That gets an amused yet fond chuckle. You find yourself relaxing at the noise - like some of the pressure squeezing on your lungs has been lifted and you can finally breathe. 

He repeats her nickname and you feel your lips start to turn up. 

"How old..?" His voice cracks with emotion and Matthew has to clear his throat before continuing, "how old is she?"

"Three and a half," you answer quickly, "her birthday is a few months away." You bite your lip then hesitantly add, "She wants to go to the zoo. It's all she talks about."

"Yeah?" Matthew prompts. His smile is so so soft and it makes your stomach turn in this pleasant way. However, you were expecting him to act, this is not it. In your heart, you think the best you were going for was acceptance, but this seems much more than that. There is a stinging in the corner of your eyes and you have to take your own steadying breath continuing on.

"Yeah, um.. She…likes maps right now. I got her a map to the zoo and she's got the whole day planned." Which is very much true - your coffee table has been the home of a makeshift zoo diorama for a little over a week now and the itinerary has changed about twenty times. 

 Matthew ducks his head and nods a little, taking all the information in. You squeeze your fingers in your lap, needing a way to release the nerves still buzzing inside you. 

A few moments pass before Matthew clears his throat again, "What else does she like..?"

The question makes you chuckle just a little bit, only because gushing about your daughter is something you're very good at. Since you work at home, it is just the two of you ninety percent of the time, you don't get to coo over her very often.

"She loves arts and crafts - anything she can get her little hands on. Right now she loves pipe cleaners and paper, things she can bend and fold, you know? I set her next to me while working and she'll just fold paper into little shapes. Not origami or anything, just abstract things, she doesn't plan it. She always wants to help, too, whatever I'm doing. Cooking and cleaning. She is the best helper for grocery shopping." You pause, looking over Matthew's smile for a moment before continuing on, tears starting to gather in your eyes.

 "She looks just like you," you admit, fondness clear in your voice because it is so so true. Now that you are properly looking at him, Minnie looks just like Matthew, and telling him that makes him light up even more. "You've got the same smile. The same hair. Hers is a little more red, but it's definitely from you."

You watch Matthew lick at his lips and you want to know what is going on in his head. You think everything is going well, even if you are on the verge of crying. They are tears of relief - relief you weren't told to fuck off or to go get your own lawyer. You don't fully know if Matthew Murdock is a good man, but you're over the first hurdle and the prospects are looking good. 

Matthew leans back into his chair, inhaling deeply, as if centering himself, then asks, "Why now? Why find me now?"

"Like I said, I couldn't find you, I didn't know anything about you, really, except what you looked like and you were a lawyer. I did try, I really did, but…" you trail off with a shrug, "I had a newborn."

Matthew seems to accept that answer - it is the truth after all - and continues on, "But you saw the interview... Last night?"

You nod, "I was picking up some dinner and they were playing the news at the diner. I saw it and looked you up and now…now you know."

"Now I know…" Matthew repeats slowly, his smile dropping a little and you wonder if is hitting him in different waves, like it did you - the realization he is a father. You know it is an intense roller coaster and you are not going to try to guide his ride, especially after just kind of dropping it on him. 

He taps the manila folder in front of him, the crease returning to his brow, "What is this?"

Your cheeks get hot again and you turn your gaze away from him and back to your lap, "Requests for family medical history and information about how to establish paternity, if that's what you want."

"It is," Matthew rushes out. Your head jerks up and his expression looks serious, "I want that. I want to be in her life."

He sounds so sure of himself that it makes your head spin a little. You built up in your mind he either wouldn't want anything to do with you and Minnie or he was going to try to take her away - you hadn't really considered the obvious option that Matthew would just want to be involved. At least, that is what you are hoping he is implying. 

"I won't abandon my daughter," the conviction in his voice startles you, but it also makes your heart twist but in a good way because in that moment, you believe him. "And I won't abandon you. I used to question if I had the right to bring a child into my life, but this isn't a hypothetical anymore…. And I can't.." he trails off and leans back into his chair, rubbing at his mouth again. You don't press, you have no right to when you've come out of the blue and changed his entire world. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I can't step away now that I know she is out there." 

You quickly shake your head at his words, "You don't need to rush into anything, I mean it, I don't want anything from you but for you to have the chance to know her. We can go slow, she's still little, you know? She can't handle a big change. Start small?"

You're more worried about how he is feeling versus what you are. You have at least prepared yourself to have a reaction - he thought he would be having a normal work day and you've given him a lot to process in the last five minutes. 

"We can go at your pace, Matthew."

He drops his hand from his face, a smile coming back to his face, "You can call me Matt."

You repeat your preferred name, then apologize, "I'm sorry for coming out of nowhere. I didn't want to lose track of you again, but I could have scheduled an appointment."

Matt shakes his head a little, "No, I get it." His hand goes back to the envelope, like touching it is grounding him like squeezing your fingers is grounding you. "I'm glad you came…I'm glad…thank you. Thank you for telling me." 

Part of you wants to reach across the desk and squeeze his hand, to give him comfort and let him know everything will be okay, but you don't dare. He's still a stranger, despite everything. You decide pushing past the emotional to the practical might be the best approach for now. You need to get your anxiety to settle now that you know your world isn't going to end and the best thing for that, in your mind, is getting an action plan. 

"I don't know what the steps are for doing this," you start, trying to think up ideas as you talk, "but I think maybe we could…get together again and plan things out? Give you time to adjust to the idea and let you think about how you want to move forward?"

Matt nods along with your words, "That sounds like a good idea." 

You bend down to grab your phone out of your purse, "I put my contact information in the packet, but could I get yours?" 

He waits until you are ready, then gives you his personal number then the office number. You do the quick song and dance of calling his phone, so that he has your number and you wait patiently as he adds you as a contact. Hearing the voice commands to navigate a phone is new to you and once he is done putting in your information, you let your curiosity get the better of you.

"Do you prefer texting or phone calls?"

"Phone calls would be preferable," Matt says as he sets his phone on his desk, having held it up to speak clearly into it, "I have text to speech but it's not always the easiest for texting." 

You nod in understanding, "Got it." You squirm in your seat, unsure of what comes next, so you say the very first thing that comes to mind. "You can call anytime. I work from home so you don't have to worry about interrupting anything…like I'm doing with you."

He hums, then asks, "What does Minnie do during the day?" 

"She stays with me, mostly. There's a daycare down the block she goes to if I need someone to watch her. That's where she is now."

That makes Matt frown just slightly and part of you panics that he disapproves. "Is it just the two of you…?"

"Yes." 

You say it with confidence. You've worked hard to get where you are alone and despite all you've been through, you are proud of that. "My parents passed when I was in college and I don't have any siblings. We've managed to do pretty well on our own. It's not the biggest, but we have a little place in Chelsea."

The little frown stays and you don't know what it means - you hope it's over you not having a big support system and not something else. Matt looks like he is going to respond but a knock at the door cuts him off. You jump at the noise, having totally forgotten there were other people in the office. 

Matt looks slightly annoyed when he calls out, "Yes?"

The door opens and the final partner for the law firm is there. "Pardon the intrusion," he says to you with a nod before addressing Matt, "They've got that guy from last week at the 15th. He's asking for us specifically."

Matt openly scowls before running a hand over his face, "Okay. Give me a few minutes."

Foggy nods before stepping back out and closing the door.

"I'm sorry," Matt says sheepishly.

You cut him off before he can say more, standing as you do, "Please don't be, I really did just barge in on you at work. I can call you later? Or you can call me?" 

Matt gets up as well, starting to come around the desk, "I can call you." He hesitates just a second, then ducks his chin, that little smile reappearing and your heart does that funny flip again. "Maybe we can get lunch?"

You smile back, "I would like that. We can start planning." You bite your bottom lip, then add, "I can bring Minnie…?"

Matt's entire face lights up and the awkwardness of trying to end your talk evaporates. "I would like that. A lot." He motions to his desk, "I'll work on getting that back to you. I want to…I want to do this right." 

"I do, too." 

It feels like a promise. You want to believe Matt - that he wants this and won't disappear at the first minor inconvenience. You've read so many horror stories about bad parents and you don't want any of that for Minnie. 

You grab your purse and the water Karen gave you, then finally give Matt a proper look over. 

You enjoyed your night together with him. Not only had he been a phenomenal lover, but he had made you smile and laugh. You weren't nearly as anxious then as you are now, but you had been rather nervous being flirted with by a handsome lawyer and he had made you feel at ease. Bringing him home with you had been an easy choice. 

He must sense you smiling somehow, maybe you giggled or something, but his smile, which had started to fall, brightens back up.

"Can I ask you something before you go?" 

You nod to his question, catch yourself and reply, "Of course."

"Can you tell me what she looks like?"

Guilt courses through you and biting your lip turns painful, "I'm so sorry, of course. Um, I included pictures in the packet with descriptions but, of course." His face drops into something a little nervous so you launch into the description of your daughter, emphasizing how they have the same smile because you can’t get over that. You can't help yourself and start describing some of the pictures you included.

"She has this big noise canceling headband so she can sleep comfortably - she doesn't like loud noises - but because she is three, she refuses to wear it unless it's cute. So we crochet little sleeves for it. One of the pictures is her asleep on our couch, face down, because that's how she sleeps, wearing her favorite sleeve. It's Spider-Man the-"

There's a quick series of taps on the door before it opens again.

"Buddy, we gotta go."

You start to apologize, but Matt speaks over you, his voice a little firm as his expression drops, "I'll be right there, Foggy."

A silent conversation seems to go through them, as Foggy raises his eyebrows at Matt and Matt does the same right back. Foggy steps out of the office, closing the door behind him. 

"Let me walk you out?" Matt asks, motioning to the door.

"Thank you." 

You let him open the door and you follow him into the reception office. Foggy is looking at his phone while waiting by Karen's desk as she finishes packing her laptop. You cross the room in silence as Matt leads you from the office. Once you are in the hallway, he speaks to you in a soft voice.

"Can I call you tonight?"

"Yes, please." 

"Does eight work?"

"That's perfect." 

"I'll talk to you then."

You force yourself to be the one to turn away and start walking towards the stairs. As you get to them, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to try to suppress your smile.

Maybe the papers are right and Matthew Murdock is a good man. 

You really hope he's a good father too.

[svt-x]

From Italy, with love x (Teaser)

pairing: Detective Mingyu x female reader

summary: Injured on the job and unable to work for 6 months, Mingyu embarks on a solo trip to Italy. He crosses paths with you once again, a familar face from his past he went on a few dates with. As it turns out, you’re also the owner of the dream holiday villa that he’s renting for the summer.

genre/warnings: second chances au (they’ve met briefly before), fluff, angst, smut

teaser warnings: shirtless mingyu wearing nothing but a towel lol, minor swearing

teaser wc: 467 

a/n: This is my first ever attempt at writing a fic, I’ve been having Mingyu brainrot since forever & was inspired to write this after seeing him in that police outfit. A special thanks to @wintaerbaer for helping me with this and being so supportive and encouraging🤍

"AAAAAH! Why's it not working?"

He aggressively fiddles with the hot water valve of the shower in a futile attempt to rinse out the shampoo that continues to burn his eyes. When he realises that his efforts are ending in vain, Mingyu resorts to cold water, letting out a squeal as the icy droplets hit his chiseled body.

"Fuck, it's so cold."

With his eyes still tightly shut, he frantically runs his hands through his hair and over his body, trying to wash off the bubbles that remain. Soon after, he grabs the white towel he brought in with him and loosely wraps it around his hips. Walking out of the bathroom, he lets out a sigh as he enters the kitchen, opens the fridge, and chugs down the glass of fresh orange juice he left to chill earlier.

This is not how you expected to be spending your afternoon off—letting your tenant know that they will be without hot water for the rest of the day. Joshua is currently out of town, leaving you to deliver the message. You would have rang or texted, but your laptop, which holds the tenant’s details, has been sent for repair. This would usually mean you need to go into the office, but the villa is closer to your apartment, so instead, you take this as an opportunity to meet your new tenant for the summer.

The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle breeze, carrying hints of rosemary and lavender, envelops you as you walk up the pathway to the villa. The door is slightly ajar, and you bring up your fist to knock.

“Hello, is anyone in? It’s y/n, the landlord. Can I come in?”

When you don’t hear a response, you apprehensively walk in and head towards the kitchen, calling out once more.

“Hello?”

As you turn the corner, you’re met with the most perfectly-sculpted, muscular back you’ve ever seen. The man, still unaware of your presence, places a drink back in the fridge and closes the door.

You stutter when you finally speak up.

“O..oh sorry! I didn’t mean to just-”

Mingyu turns around to see the owner of the voice, you, visibly blushing as he notices your eyes scanning his physique. The towel does a poor job of covering the veins that snake across his lower body, and his deeply-tanned skin glistens, highlighting his huge muscles that are hard to miss.

You finally look up, and time seems to slow down for a moment as your eyes meet; small but memorable fragments of the brief time you spent together flash before your eyes, and you quite literally can’t believe Kim Mingyu is stood in front of you, naked with water dripping down his body.

“Mingyu?”

“Y/N?”

[stnexus]

Just Before Bed

dom!geto suguru x blk!fem!sub!reader x kinda dom!gojo satoru

18+, R RATED, MINORS DNI

description: no panties at a party? well that’s just unacceptable.

warnings: (y/n) is tipsy here + geto high though all parties are consenting adults, unprotected sex, indicates that there is a safe word if needed (not used every thing is fine and fun), established relationship, geto’s a little mean + kinda a cuck(?) lmao, f + m overstim, squirting, creampie(s), double penetration, dacryphillia, everyone be safe please make sure you are fully grasping my warnings!

names used (?): baby, baby doll, princess, pretty girl, brat, pretty, pretty boy, good girl

word count: 3.1k+

The silver wind chimes on the front porch clanked together as it let out a ring of a beautiful melody. Cold air swirled about, causing the rustle of fallen leaves along the ground. As a car pulled into the drive way all that could be heard was the banging of car doors slamming shut as you and your lovers got out. Causing the chilled gusts of wind to meet your bare arms — damned tube dress.

“tss, satoru baby i’m cold,” you complained as you hugged onto the partner closets to you. almost losing your footing with how intoxicated you were. sloppy drink wouldn’t be used to describe your state — but you definitely had a nice buzz flowing throughout your body. every thought felt fuzzy around the edges, like you could just let yourself float away.

“com’ere, baby doll,” gojo calls out, wrapping his arms around you as he led you both behind geto. your arms wrapped around his white button up cladded torso. the keys jingling about in geto's hand matched the wind chimes song as your second lover made his way to the front door. sifting through the keys on his keychain.

“suguruuu, why’re ya so quiet?” you spoke up with laughter in your tone, one of you fingers playing with a belt loop on gojo's black slacks. your pink acrylics dragging against his clothed hips.

“you know how he gets when he’s high, all quiet and brooding,” gojo laughed, pulling you closer.

“you two have been giggling the whole way home. and despite gojo being sober,” geto chided, “you’re both sharing the same brain cell at the moment…now get in before you get sick.”

at your boyfriend’s declaration as he ushered you both inside, you and gojo’s laughs grew even more. walking through the front door of your home in a fit of laughter as the warm atmosphere enveloped you all. kicking your heels off, you watched as the two men removed their dress shoes, black socks meeting the wooden floor of the threshold.

“suguru…” before the words could even form in your drunken mind, geto had picked you up bridal style. the bottom of your black colored floor length dress swaying around your manicured toes at the action. wrapping your arms around his neck you planted a kiss on his cheek, which was still cold from the time spent outside. your head was brought down to rest on his shoulder - meeting the black button up shirt he had worn. it wasn’t long before you were upstairs — gojo close behind after he grabbed three cups of water from the kitchen.

dropping you softly onto the edge of the bed, geto began to grab at the black tie around his neck — slowly loosening the knot. gojo sat the cups down with a sigh. when nanami said he would be hosting a party you all thought it was some kind of joke. nanami? having fun? turns out it was some corporate affair, nothing but office workers swarmed the building. but you all still managed to enjoy your self, nanami never shied away from offering alcohol. which you did partake in, unlike gojo or geto. though, somehow someway geto had slipped out during the night. telling you and gojo he'd just be a minute, only to return high.

“come on baby, take your dress off,” gojo stated grabbing at the top of your tube dress as you giggled.

“say please first ‘toru,” a smirk played at his lips you responded. but he held back a retort as he slipped his fingers between the top of the dress and your body, beginning to pull it down your chest until—

“you didn’t wear a bra..? well, kinda understandable with the dress. but, hell…no panties either,” gojo looked baffled as you giggled. you drunken brain fully fucking you over, because if you had been sober you wouldn’t have missed the glare geto had thrown at gojo's discovery. letting gojo pull the dress off of you completely a gasp left your lips as you felt his hand ghost over the top of your thighs as he came up to plant a kiss on your glossy lips.

“such a bad girl,” gojo scolded, “such a pretty body though, don’t you think so suguru?”

“as always,” geto replied as he took off his silver cufflinks, "but why don’t you do me a favor ‘toru?”

“hm?”

“eat our pretty girl out,” Geto stated, “i like seeing her all sensitive and whiny after she drinks. and the way she's looking at you i think she'd like that.”

looking down at your low hooded eyes and quiet demeanor. you had stopped the giggling from earlier. taking in your lover that stood before your completely naked form.

“whaddya say, ‘s that what you want princess?” gojo questioned with a small smile, moving to hold your chin between his thumb and index finger.

“mhm,” you nodded and hummed in compliance, tone low, "please, satoru...that's what i want."

it wasn’t long before gojo had rid himself of his clothes, much like geto who moved about in the room in just his black briefs. pulling his long black hair into a messy low bun. cleaning things up, as if gojo wasn’t buried between your legs, eye level with your cunt as he laid soft and loving kisses on your special little button. his hands pushed your brown thighs in opposite directions, spreading you open for him to get better access. gojo planted one more kiss on your clit, watching as your arousal leaked from your hole as he pulled away.

you'd be lying if you said you hadn't been horny since you all had been getting ready for the party. taking in your two boyfriends as they got dressed. smelling the cologne they'd covered themselves with made the ache between your legs even worse. even the way they conversed at the party, teeth sparkling as they threw charming smiles. and the way geto looks when high was the icing on the cake. it was like heaven and your worst nightmare at the same time, knowing you couldn't touch them. which made your predicament now even more annoying.

“stop teasing, gojo—” your whiny bratty remark was cut short as you felt his tongue make contact with your pussy. pushing through your puffy lips to lick a long stripe. his blue eyes had snapped to your face, watching it contorting slightly as you were taken off guard. as small moan had caused you to go quiet for just a second.

“oh she went quiet for a second there, satoru,” geto laughed as he continued to trail around the room picking up everyones discarded clothes. “but truly stop teasing. go ahead and make her a whiny mess, baby.”

at the command of geto again you could feel all fight from gojo drop as he pressed his face between your thighs once more. removing one hand from one of your brown thighs in order to use his fingers to spread your puffy lips open. everything else that followed was rid of the kind and gentle kisses he’d shown you before.

it was only a matter of minutes before you felt a mixture of your wetness and gojo’s spit completely flooding your cunt. dripping onto the bed. there was no use of shying away with the way he had you spread open, lips wrapped around your pretty little bud as he sucked at it and licked away. nothing but obscene slurping sounds and your whiny moans could be heard around the room as geto sat on the bed, observing his two lovers from afar.

geto was right earlier, drinking does make you sensitive and whiny. it was a cute sight to him.

“‘toru, you feel so good,” you moaned out, pink acrylic nails coming up to grab at his white hair. his eyes closed as your fingers grazed over his scalp, groaning into your pussy. your hips jolting at the action.

“yeah baby? you want more?”

“yeaa', ‘toru. please gimme more,”

“suguru…you aren’t going to play with her too…?” gojo mumbles into your cunt as he looked over at geto at the head of the bed. watching from the corner of his eye as you slightly twitched from the vibrations.

“not quite yet. but keep going,” geto spoke low lidded from the opposite side of the bed. it was now easier to see that some hair framed his face and had not been pulled into his messy bun.

“suguru please, join us— ahh, fuuck—” your pleading was interrupted as you felt two of gojo’s finger sink into your cunt, his mouth attacking your clit once more. it felt like he was trying to pull an orgasm out of you the way his fingers curled. grazing that special spot inside of you from time to time.

it wasn’t until you both locked eyes that gojo took a harsh suck at your clit, maneuvering his fingers to repeatedly hit at that sensitive little spot. you could feel your stomach tightening as your head turned to the side. your eyes meeting with geto’s darkened ones. it was like no matter where you turned someone was watching.

“our pretty girl’s going to cum,” geto somewhat chuckled,“come on (Y/N), show us how pretty you look when you cum.”

your mouth fell open into a moan as you felt your orgasm getting pulled from you. cunt pulsing and clenching around gojo’s digits and against his tongue as a pretty ring of white continued to decorate the base of his fingers.

“keep going.” fell from geto’s lips as your brows furrowed. the alcohol from earlier still had you unaware to his demeanor. “no underwear? at a public event? you must’ve lost your mind pretty girl.”

“i wanna to see her cry tonight satoru. what do you think?”

“i agree geto. i mean, she must’ve been waiting to get home. this pretty pussy was flooded before i even touched her earlier.”

“well let’s give her everything and then more…” geto replied. his hands coming up to play at your hardened nipples. a whine of wait i’m sorry, left your lips as you realized the compromising position they were putting you in as geto joined gojo on his knes at the foot of the the bed. throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, the other over gojo’s.

“shhh, no apologies, you’re not sorry yet,” geto taunted as both him and gojo licked a line up your already pleased cunt. tongues meeting as they reached your attentive clit.

and that's how it continued, they toyed with you for the next hour almost. it became apparent that you weren't going anywhere as they gripped at your thighs, with two of geto's fingers buried to the base in your pussy. you'd lost count at how many times you had released in their tongues, creaming along geto's fingers. surely dripping into his palm as his fingers moved in and out. but it was clear that geto hadn’t lost count.

“three times, four if you count when you made her cum gojo. look at her…” as they continued to prolong your fourth orgasm the two men took in your appearance. your silk pressed hair beginning to curl around your edges, chest heaving, eyes glossed over and hands tangled in the sheets below you. careless moans fell from your lips as your sensitive clit throbbed and begged for mercy under their unrelenting tongues.

“y’ gonna fuck her for me pretty boy?” geto mumbled out between their tongues meeting at your clit. gojo replied with a simple deep mhmm and a head nod which was probably the worst thing to do with your drooling pussy right in his face, because the cry you let out signified you’d just come again. as they let up they both placed gentle and feather light kisses to your sensitive cunt. taking in your blissed out face as they stood, gojo pulled you to meet his hips .

it was like they were trying to humiliate you. gojo pulled you into a mating press as he pulled off his boxers. his heavy cock smacking against your cunt as it was freed from the boxers. the usually light brown tip swollen and red, and shaft appearing as thick as ever — veins decorating it beautifully.

“‘toruuu…go slow pleasepleaseplease,” you whined out as the sensitive state your pussy was in. and he listened, sinking in inch by inch as slowly as he was able to, groaning out an oh fuuck, when he hit the hilt. balls brush against your ass as his hands held the back of your thighs.

“geto our girl feels sooo fucking good,” gojo addressed your shared boyfriend who sat in the love seat that decorated the corner of your shared bedroom. his boxers off and cock in hand receiving slow, tight, lazy strokes.

“i bet she does, and stop being so easy on her, she’s receiving a punishment remember? i don’t care how much she begs, she knows the safe word. fuck her stupid,” geto groans gritting out his last words, watching as gojo moved his hips at a slow pace. your mouth went slack at his orders feeling gojo’s hips pick up the pace as you locked eyes with geto, a fucked out sounding i fucking h-hate youuu leaving your lips in a whine.

“yeah yeah, nothing i haven’t heard before brat,” he smirked slyly. his fist still moving up and down his shaft, the loose hairs framing his face swaying gently, “you’ll love me later.”

gojo’s hips crashed into the back of your thighs, lower abdomen bumping into your clit with every thrust. you only choked out obscenities and his name falling from your lips as your head lay on the bed.

“can I pull your hair baby…?” gojo huffed out, knowing you’d be pissed you were sweating it out already, but he didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. but you sent a dazed out nod his way. placing his hand atop your head, gojo gripped at your hair, pulling your head up to make you watch where you two were connected.

“fuckfuck, oh my— fuuuck,”

watching how gojo’s cock reached inside your walls fully solidified everything that was going on. a sheen of your previous orgasms and current arousal coated his shaft. a pretty ring of cream sliding along his base, leaving a stringy mess at every attempt of him pulling away. your cunt seemed to wanted to pull him back in after every draw back of his hips.

“yeah baby, look at how good that pussy is. she’s practically crying for me. if i move just a bit i could hit….” gojo paused for just a moment, changing the angle of his hips. “that spot, there you go pretty girl.”

a dreadfully teary eyed cry fell from your lips as gojo began his assault on your sweet spot cooing at your reaction. your mind so fuzzy you begin to forget geto was pumping away at his cock in the same room until he let out a moan. still looking at the way gojo fucked you out the way he hit your spot continuously was earth crushing, it didn’t take long for your to babble out a deceleration of your orgasm reaching you. your stomach tightening and releasing at its own will. but gojo’s hips didn’t slow.

“s-suguruuu make him slow d-down, ’m too sensitive,” you begin to babble even more even though the grasp gojo had on your hair hindered you from seeing geto. “ ‘m sorry, ‘m so sorry i didn’t were panties to the party. ‘won’t happen again, i-i’m fuu—uck ‘m sorry.”

a darkened laugh feel from geto’s lips, and your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head at his next words.

“she’s real sensitive now gojo, make her squirt while she’s babbling on...”

your hands went to reach out at gojo’s abdomen, pushing at it until he slapped your hand away. pink acrylic decorated fingernails tossed aside. only for his palm to slide across your lower stomach softly, then came an immense amount of pressure as he pressed down right where his cock hit.

“satoru f-fuck you, y-you asshole,” you swore at him between moans in embarrassment. your lips forming into what he deemed to be a beautiful pout.

“shut up and take it.” he bit back, watching as a tears fell from your eyes.

“i feel like i’m g-gonna pee…”

“let it out princess, you know what we want…” geto coaxed from the corner of the room.

the room around you became a muffled mess as you began to drown out any outside noise. you were sure you were floating the way you felt your release leave your body. it wasn’t until you came to that you realized you had had begun crying as you sprayed your orgasm all over gojo’s chest, squirting like your life depended on it. you felt him bury himself deep, releasing into your soaked cunt.

“fuck pretty girl, let up,” gojo groaned out at how you tightened around him.

“gojo get her on her stomach, lay under her,” geto called out as got up from the chair. it wasn’t long before gojo flipped you two over into position, sliding his hardening length into your messy cunt once more. it wasn’t until you felt geto trying to fit himself in with gojo that you reacted with a moan. hand reach back to push at his abdomen.

“you won’t fit, baby,” you whined.

“i will, don’t worry…we’ll make it fit.” geto planted a kiss on the side of your mouth pushing the hand that tried to move him against your lower back, your face against gojo’s flushed chest.

and geto lived up to his promise, pushing into you and rubbing against gojo.

“oh fuck, suguru” gojo choked out, realizing he was still sensitive from cumming previously. their thrusts were matched as they rubbed against each other in your cunt. filling you up to the brim as geto arm wrapped around your torso, between yourself and gojo, to rub and toy with your extremely sensitive clit. the room felt hot. every breath felt forced and useless as they abused your sensitive spots. tears and incomplete babbling falling repeatedly.

“i love youu, fuuck iloveyoutwo” you managed to get out as you cried. tears sliding against gojos chest as you neared your release.

“we know baby, cum one more time for us, show us how much you love us,” geto sounds like he was almost pleading. his harden demeanor shedding away, “just one more time, good girl…”

and your body listened. you’d squirted again, feeling your breath hitch as you did so. the room felt like it was spinning as your eyes fell shut, sleep taking you over as gojo and geto pulled out. a mixture of cum leaking from your used cunt.

“did she pass out?” gojo chuckled. pushing your now curled hair back from your face in observation. hand caressing your cheek.

“she did,” geto joined him in laughing as he leaned over to press a kiss onto his lips, "but lets stop laughing, if we wake her up she's going to use whatever energy she can to kill us."

[dfortrafalgar]

Just A Little More Time

Law x Fem Reader

Law wants more, and winter break seems like the perfect opportunity. Indeed, he wants more... but not at the cost of your relationship.

A/N: Another bonus chapter for IMLY, the masterlist of which I will link below! I wrote this MONTHS ago and have a second part to follow that I still have to finish. You can definitely read this without reading the entirety of the main fic, but there are parts of this that directly reference IMLY, so there's a potential that these might not make as much sense ;3;

Warnings: Mentions of sex but nothing explicit, hints of past sexual trauma, allusions to medical issues, in general fluff and law being a dork

[IMLY Masterlist]

PLAY IT SAFE!  USE PROTECTION!

Law stared blankly at the bowl of condoms situated outside the student activities office.  A tiny index card placed beneath the pink plastic bin said they were free to take, but the biology undergrad felt beyond awkward reaching into the bowl to grab a few.  Would he even need them?  Everything had been going so well with you that he was worried he was going to jynx himself with every tiny action and idea.  For the first time in his life, he found something he truly, desperately wanted to hold onto.  He had fallen in love… and fallen hard.

Biting back his growing anxiety, and ignoring the off-put stares from students walking by, Law reached into the bowl, grabbed three wrapped condoms, and frantically stuffed them into the pocket of his baggy cargo pants.  He briskly trudged out of the building and began his walk through the brisk winter air across the campus to the dining hall where you promised to meet him.  A light snow was floating through the air, coating the frozen ground with powdery white that crunched beneath his shoes, the salted pavement of the walkways helping with traction.  His heart hammered at the mere thought of seeing you again- you had been so busy with final exams that the two of you had barely been able to spend time together, the pressure mounting even higher as the two of you wrapped up your third year as undergrads.  And although you were only officially dating for about three months, Law was endlessly looking forward to the next time he got to see you.

And he was really counting his blessings.  For the entire two months of winter break, you were staying together in his single dorm on campus.  He didn’t have much of a home to return to, usually choosing to stay with Shachi and Penguin.  You chose not to return home, finding distress in your family life.  And besides, who wouldn’t want to spend the winter cuddling under fluffy blankets with an adorable, nerdy med student?

Law pushed through the doors of the dining hall and proceeded into the expanse of tables and chairs, the same dining hall where he first found his heart racing at the sight of you.  The circumstances recently had been far nicer though, and it turned out his chronic resting-bitch face made for a pretty good bodyguard-type vibe, exactly what you needed to feel safe walking around the open campus of North Blue University.  You were hunched over one of the small tables in the back of the cafeteria, your chin resting against your fist as you flipped through a comic magazine, one that Law had leant you a week prior.  The bio student felt his lips pull into a small smile at the sight.

Sensing his approach, you picked your head up, a broad grin immediately appearing on your face as you stood from your chair and engulfed him in a hug.  A baggy crew-neck sweater adorned with the university’s logo enveloped you, your lavender and vanilla perfume wafting around Law in serene waves.  While he wasn’t ever a fan of PDA, there were so few people in the dining hall that he felt comfortable placing his hands on your waist and dipping you back just enough to reach the soft skin of your neck, peppering a smattering of kisses over your skin before releasing you.  Your bright, airy chuckles made his stomach twist with nervous butterflies.  The condoms in his pants pocket felt like they were lava, oozing and searing through the fabric.

“How was your last final?” you asked excitedly, pulling away from him to gather your things from the table.  You closed the magazine and held it toward him, Law happily accepting it back and tucking it into his backpack.

“It went well, I think.  I’ve never been great with language classes, though,” he muttered back, awkwardly rubbing his neck where the short black hairs reached the top of his spinal cord.

You grinned, almost blinding the man, slinging your own bag over your shoulder and grabbing his hand in yours.  Your fingers intertwined seamlessly.  “I’m sure you did absolutely amazing, you ace every single class you take.”

“I appreciate it,” Law replied, his voice low as he smiled at you, your eyes creased as they adjusted to the outside light.  “How were your’s?”

As quickly as your face beamed upon seeing your boyfriend, it morphed into a disinterested scowl.  “Language was fine.  Math on the other hand…”

“I thought it was an open note exam,” he inquired.

“It was.  The bastard TA decided last minute to make it closed-book.  Didn’t tell anyone until today, when the exam started.”  You were grumbling, stuffing your free hand into the pocket of your coat.  “I swear, the dude sitting next to me looked ready to end it all.  I might have too, but I have too much to look forward to.”

Law’s chest panged.  He knew it was a simple joke, but ever since forming your relationship, seeing you in any state other than happy and content was a health hazard for him.  He squeezed your hand, keeping the skin of your palm warm.  “I’m sure you did fine.  You tried your best, at least.”

“True, that’s all you can ask for, really.”  You stifled a yawn.  “Trying my best.”

The black-haired man’s heart raced more and more while approaching the door to his dorm building with you in tow, the three metallic-wrapped items in his pocket growing more and more scorching the closer he got to his room.  He was convinced he might pass out.  He was wildly regretting the choice to grab them, worried that you would get the wrong idea if you saw them, thinking he’d be pressuring you into something you weren’t ready for, thinking that this entire two-month relationship was nothing more than–

“Law?”

Your delicate voice broke him from his anxious spiral.  When did the two of you get into the elevator?

You were staring up at him, large eyes creased in concern.  “You look really nervous.  Are you alright?”

He gulped.  “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?  I can just go back to my own room if you’re suddenly not feeling well, I still have some things I have to pack up,” you offered.

Law’s hand was growing clammy in yours.  He prayed you couldn’t tell.  “No, you can stay.  I’m fine.”

Your own hand flexed in his, and while you turned your gaze away from him, you didn’t seem convinced at his answer.

One thing Law still struggled with, and something that he would probably always struggle with, was facing his emotions head on.  The last thing he wanted to admit out loud was the fact that he had grabbed three condoms from the student activities bowl with the hopes that two months of living in a small room with you would mean a potential score.  He didn’t even know if they would fit.  Were condoms one-size-fits-all?  He had no idea.  He’d never had sex before.

The low beep of the elevator’s button panel signaling their destination shook him once again from his own mind.  You losened your grip on his hand, worried that it was you who was the cause of his sudden nervous demeanor.

“Hey, Law,” you whispered, the quiet hallway absorbing your voice.  You stopped him in front of the elevator as it closed, standing directly in front of him to capture his eyes with your own.  “Take a deep breath with me, alright?”

You slowly inhaled through your nose, feeling how your ribs expanded ever so slightly as your lungs swelled with the warm air of the dorm building.  Law followed your lead, sucking in oxygen through his nose.  You had some sort of supernatural ability to make him feel better instantly, better than any form of medication or clinical treatment.  His shoulders relaxed as he exhaled with you.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“Don’t be,” you replied, a small smile on your lips.  You stepped closer to him, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth.  “I just want you to know that you can talk to me if something’s bothering you.”

Law swallowed another thick glob of spit down his esophagus before mustering a weak nod.  “I know.”

Footsteps down the hallway sparked a fire under Law’s feet, quickly dragging you to his door as innocuous as he could, jamming the key into the bolt and clicking open the lock.  He pushed the wooden barrier open with his hand and ushered you inside as you giggled over his frantic movements, not wanting to be seen by any potential bystanders.  Choosing to ignore any playful comments about his shyness, you instead kicked off your shoes and shrugged off your coat, making a beeline to Law’s single twin-sized bed and flopping onto the surprisingly plush comforter that covered his mattress.  As clinical and stoic as Law was, he had an absolutely adorable bedspread.  A simple blue comforter with an ocean wave pattern on it, plain white sheets, three pillows, and a large stuffed animal of a polar bear, which wore a peculiar orange shirt with a strange symbol embroidered on the front.  Everything was wrapped in Law’s scent, that familiar comfort of cedar and lemongrass.

Law chuckled, deep and husky, at the sight of you immediately wrapping yourself in one of the throw blankets situated at the foot of his bed.  “Comfy?”

You hummed in response, flopping onto his pillows and curling up under the throw, hiding your face and taking a deep inhale of the laundry detergent he used.  You might have fantasized about sharing a bed with him for the rest of your life, but he didn’t need to know that.  At least, not yet.

You peeked out from under the blanket as Law milled around his room, neatly situating your bag on the ground next to his, an action which made your heart flutter.  After only three months of steady dating, the two of you had already fallen into a routine when visiting your individual rooms, as if you had been together for an eternity.  Life with Law came so natural, despite the rocky start the two of you had upon first meeting.  The Law from the study room almost five months ago was a completely different man compared to the one nearly folding his clothing and organizing his desk to prepare for your stay, humming a small song under his breath.  He had reserved the top drawer of his wooden wardrobe for your clothing, the few sets of pajamas and day clothes that he wanted to keep in his room for when you spent the night.  (He had a few sets in your room, too.)

Deep in the crevices of your mind, you wondered what married life with him could be like.  He’d probably be just as domestic, if not more so.  He’d probably make such a great father…

“Hey,” he spoke, shaking you from your own trance.  The two of you were one in the same.  “Tired?”

“Nah,” you responded, sitting up slightly, letting the blanket fall around your abdomen.  “Just watching you like a creep.”

The laugh that left his lungs shook your ribcage, a heat fluttering through your veins.  “Do you wanna get changed?” he asked, pulling open the drawer below the one he reserved for you.

You swung your legs off the side of his bed, eager to get into cozier clothing.  “Obviously.”

Neither of you had seen the other naked.  Instead, you changed with your backs to each other, heads down, only turning around when the other gave permission to do so.  It was… comforting.  You assumed your stance behind Law with your back to him, quickly shedding your shirt, followed by your bra.  The sound of rustling clothes behind you signaled that Law was doing the same.  You had just pulled an oversized t-shirt over your head when you heard a few small paps on the floor, and a panicked, ‘Shit,’ from Law.

Not thinking, you turned around to look at what happened.

Three condoms lie on the floor next to his pants, Law frantically fumbling to scoop them off the ground.  He had forgotten to take them out of his pocket and stash them in his desk.  The force of him removing his baggy cargo pants pushed them up and out of the open pocket.

You quickly turned your back to him once again, your face flushed with heat, eyes wide.  It was too late, though.  He knew you saw.

“I…” he muttered, rapidly finishing changing and shoving the three metallic-wrapped packs into his desk drawer.  He was flustered, stuttering over his words.  He stumbled between muttering frantic apologies and explaining himself when you finally turned around.  His face was flushed a deep crimson as his golden eyes scanned your face for any form of discomfort or distrust.

“Were those for… me?” you asked, voice soft, apprehensive.

“No– I mean…” Law’s jaw snapped shut.  “Th… They were.  But only if you, you know– wanted to.  Or… fuck.”  He desperately searched for any appropriate explanation, terrified at the mere prospect of potentially driving you away from him, after he had come so far.

Your heart was pounding out of your chest at the thought.  On shaky legs, you approached the panicked man, gently grabbing his shoulders and grounding him.  “Hey, Law… breathe.”

He nervously licked his chapped lips, drawing a shaky inhale through his nose.  His eyes were clenched shut, too ashamed to look at you.  Your chest ached.

“Can we sit down?” you asked carefully, your hands trailing down his arms to grab his hands.  His fingers twitched at the contact, but he reciprocated your grasp.

You maneuvered yourself across the room, crawling back onto his bed and wrapping yourself in his blanket.  Law stayed seated on the very edge of the mattress, his feet dangling a few inches off the ground from his lifted bed frame.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, hanging his head.  His fluffy black hair shielded his eyes from your view.

“Please, don’t be,” you pleaded, scooting up behind him and resting your forehead against his vertebrae.  “It’s really alright.  I was just… surprised.  But flattered.”

Law slowly loosened his muscles.  He hadn’t expected ‘flattered’ to be the term to use.  “Really…?”

“I mean… yeah,” you replied.  “I’m surprised that you’d want that from me.”

The man’s stomach flipped.  He carefully turned around to face you, picking his legs up to sit more comfortably on his mattress.  “Why would you be surprised about that?”

The way you pursed your lips at his question made a million more concerns run through his mind.  You quickly shook your head back and forth.  “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

Law kept his gaze on you solid as your eyes darted between his wall, his hands, his blanket.  You nervously fiddled with your cuticles.  “The only time I’ve ever had sex with anyone, I bled for, like… three days.  And it hurt.  A lot.”

The man’s jaw clenched.

“I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt him, so I just kinda let it happen.  But ever since then I’ve been…” you swallowed.  “Scared.  Like… I’m worried I’m broken.”

He wanted to slaughter the man who hadn’t noticed your pain, no matter how long ago the incident was.  The look on your face told him that it still cut you deep despite your calm tone.  Law leaned toward you, concern heavy on his face.  “Did you speak to a doctor about that?”

You nodded.  “Only once.  My old gynecologist as a teenager suggested it could be anything.  He was like, ‘It could be absolutely nothing, or you might have endometriosis.  But you’re so young, so it’s probably nothing.’  So to deal with it I just never got close to a guy since then.”

The black-haired man rolled his eyes.  “That doctor sucked.”

This made a small laugh burst from your lungs.  “He did suck.”  After a few brief moments, you finally made steady eye contact with your boyfriend across from you.  “I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“What?  No,” he blurted, waving his hands in the air.  “You didn’t disappoint me, you could never disappoint me.  If anything… I’m happy you trust me enough to share that.  I’ve…”  His voice trailed off.

You anxiously waited for his next words.

“I’ve never had sex before.  With anyone.  So all of this is still pretty foreign to me, too.”

A strange sense of relief filled your chest.  “Really?”

Law felt a tiny smirk twitch onto his lips.  “Does that surprise you?”

“A little, yeah.”  You were visibly loosening up, once again growing comfortable where you sat across from him on his bed.  “I mean, you’re crazy hot.”

Even more blood rushed to his cheeks making him feel warm from the crown of his head to the heels of his feet.  “If it helps… you are, too.  That’s… uhm… why I got those.”  He gestured with his head to his desk drawer.

You hid your face in his blanket, embarrassment pulsing through your blood with each rapid beat of your flustered heart.  “This makes me feel even more bad for being so scared.”

Law ghosted his hand over your shoulder, pulling you out of your slouch.  You reminded him of an armadillo in a way, curling up into a little ball to protect yourself from danger.  His mind flashed back to the movie night your friends had some months prior, when he found you behind the building with your head on your knees.  “Never feel bad, I’m serious.”  His voice was firm yet soft, revealing his intentions to make you feel as safe and protected as he could.  “I don’t care if we never have sex at all, or if it takes a long time.  I really don’t care.  As long as you’re… okay.  Healthy.”

You apprehensively peeked out from the blanket once more.  “Really…?”

“Really.”

The man bit down his surprise as light tears welled in the corners of your eyes.  You shuffled across the bed, closing the gap in between your bodies and wrapping him into a strong hug, the blanket shrouding his body as the two of you fell backwards onto his pillows.  You buried your head into his neck as his arms came to rest against the small of your back, holding you securely against him.  He could feel you grinning into him, tiny trickles of hot tears falling down the skin of your cheeks.

“I genuinely think you’re the best man I’ve ever met,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against the cotton of his shirt.

“I’m just sorry you’ve had such bad experiences,” he uttered back, staring at the ceiling as he held you against him.

“Don’t get rid of the condoms,” you sighed.  “I have a feeling we’ll need them eventually.”

Law grinned, squeezing your form in his secure arms.  “On your own time.”

“On your’s, too.”