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#a rarity for an author
bansenshukai · 2 years
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here is my recommended reading order of novik's work:
Spinning Silver
Uprooted
and then interchangeable between Temeraire series (9 books) or The Scholomance (3 books), depending on whether you like pride and prejudice but instead of romance it's the platonic perfection of a bond between man and dragon or YA fantasy where the magic school is trying to kill you (a series that restored my faith in a genre)
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2-late-2-the-party · 7 months
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‘Danmei is mlm fantasy written by and for straight women’ is a lie. It’s written for transmascs and lesbians obviously.
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dhr-fics · 1 year
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Author: forgetablelove (amorphous)
A Journal of a Sorted Affair (34KB - Incomplete - R) In journal form, Draco and Hermione tell what happens when they meet in the library after hours one night. One is seeking revenge, and the other lets them have their way. They both have surprising reactions to the encounter.
A Wife and a Burial Site (14KB - One Shot - PG) After the defeat of Voldemort, Hermione goes to the Malfoy Manor, with the excuse of an unpaid wizard's debt and knowledge no one else knows. She is there in search of a husband.
Both (4KB - One Shot - PG-13) Kissing Draco was different from kissing Snape.
Christmas Time at Hogsmeade (4KB - One Shot - G) Hogsmeade was always romantically magical during the holiday season.
Cry Salvation (46KB - Incomplete - PG-13) Post HBP. Draco is being hunted by Lord Voldemort, but he is always following others. Someone wonders, is there more to Draco Malfoy than just a surname?
Dark Beauty (9KB - One Shot - PG-13) She tried to decipher what he meant when he said what he did to her in front of others...
Gleaming Eyes (9KB - One Shot - G) Draco comforts Hermione during one of her nightmares.
Heroes and Weakness (4KB - One Shot - PG) "Did your heroes die?"
Haunting Nightmares (4KB - One Shot - PG-13) The nightmares haunted Hermione night after night.
Hurt and Heal (13KB - One Shot - G) Draco is a social pariah Hermione is not. A hospital stay throws the pair together.
In the Firelight (13KB - One Shot - PG-13) Hermiones has to go meet an uknown informant...
In the Small Room (8KB - One Shot - NC-17) She refused to allow herself to think that she was being held captive, but then again, there was no denying she wasn’t free to come and go.
Inheritance and Marriage (4KB - One Shot - PG-13) Draco glared at his father. He was just as stubborn as Lucius, if not more so. He would get his way, eventually, he knew. But he never said his father would be easy to break either.....
Invitation (13KB - One Shot - G) It's the first Valentine's Day after the war, the light won and everyone shunned Draco except for Hermione.
The Magician (10KB - One Shot - G) Hermione and Ginny go see a magician at a club
Not a Common Occurrence (4KB - One Shot - G) Dinner was such a common occurrence.
The Oldest Dance (9KB - One Shot - PG-13) The oldest dance is simple. The oldest dance is love, making love. barely named Dramione
Out of Reach (4KB - One Shot - G) Draco barely glanced at his date once during the evening.
Satisfy Needs (4KB - One Shot - R) The hallway they have met in was still silent except for their moans and clothes rustling.
The Seven Deadly Sins (9KB - One Shot - G) Is there a deadly sin he does not love?
Slide to the End (8KB - One Shot - NC-17) The war has ended, but Hermione and Draco is just beginning.
Snow Represents (4KB - One Shot - PG) It had been exactly six months since Dumbledore was killed and Draco fled.
Talk of Love (4KB - One Shot - PG) "Do you love me?"
Unforgivable (13KB - One Shot - PG-13) Hermione is angry at Draco over something he did and now she has to search within herself to see if what he did was truly unforgivable or not.
Without a Goodbye (11KB - One Shot - PG-13) Hermione, though unnamed, is reflecting on her choices about a certain silver-eyed man.
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quietwingsinthesky · 5 months
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unfortunately i unironically enjoy stupid my little pony horror stories why am i like this
#im sorry. i am!!!#cupcakes is ironic enjoyment to be clear cupcakes is. not a good fic lmao. but its like funny gore shock value.#BUT THERES GOOD ONES I SWEAR#GO READ BIBLICAL MONSTERS BY HORSE VOICE#GO READ THE WRITING ON THE WALL. ALSO BY HORSE VOICE.#GO READ LEVIATHAN. AGAIN BY HORSE VOICE IM STARTING TO REALIZE A LOT OF MY MLP FIC RECS ARE HORSE VOICE FICS#GO READ A FLEETING LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS (and its sequels) BY FLASHGEN#the blink series (various authors) is also a personal favorite of mine because i love the teletransportation paradox in horror#uhhh what else. why am i even doing this literally no one following me wants mlp darkfic recs#look i need to say something or ill explode thats how i function#The Visiting Hour…. good fic. Silent Ponyville is closer to cupcakes in terms of quality/vibe i think but its a fandom classic.#Somno Captis. Something Sweet To Bite. Rainbow Factory is good and let no one tell you otherwise. THERE IS NO LUNA!!!!! GOING HOME!!!!#im telling you guys. i promise. they’re good fics.#no one wants this rec list and yet. here it is.#and personal rec but like if you want a really long thing. The Secret Life of Rarity and its sequels.#again. cupcakes vibes in its slasher/gore nature. the first fic in the series drags a little towards the middle with episode recaps#But With Murder This Time. the public life of sweetie belle is great though. and obviously the next few fics in the series are fantastic.#genuine compliments for how it takes the ‘what if pony…. but SERIAL KILLER????’ concept and then has Serious Repercussions that end up#slamming into you like a brick wall and fucking up the entire world of the fic. i should reread that series.#anyway im done now sorry about this#mlp
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ladynoirist · 1 year
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why am i completely incapable of reading scifi lmao
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lotus-duckies · 2 years
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I just think a series of fics where Rarity is a detective or perhaps a novel writer, maybe an average nosy pony, and solves murder mysteries would be really neat
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oscalesoffeeling · 2 years
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it's not like. a problem. but sometimes i'll be reading x reader fics and the reader insert will do something and i'll be like Huh!! i wouldn't be able to that. i wouldn't be able to that for that long. like i'm in constant awe how able bodied people can do these things. it kinda takes me out of it.
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around-your-throat · 1 month
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i check back into everskies once every 6 months and somehow the economy always manages to get worse
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cerisereids · 15 days
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𝗽𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂- 𝘀.𝗿.
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pairing- s1!spencer reid x bau!reader
w.c.- 3.9k (wtf omg)
summary- spencer reid is your best friend. you’re in love with him, he wants someone else.
warnings- the jeid narrative in s14 pissed me off so bad i wrote this, miscommunication trope, reader obsesses over his hair (same), idiots in love, wingwoman!penelope
a/n- to be clear i am not a jj hater, i love her. i just don’t like what the writers tried to make happen between her and spencer
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
the soft glow of the morning sun floats through the window, coating the bullpen of the behavioral analysis unit in a peaceful golden light. you bask in the soft start of your morning, a rarity in your line of work, sipping your coffee as your fingers clack against the computer keys. the peace of your morning is ripped from you suddenly, though, when gideon and hotch barge from their offices in quick pursuit of the conference room. the team immediately follows suit, scurrying after one another to follow the two men.
hotch stands at the head of the room, sternly describing the case file he’s just received. there is a serial killer in the d.c. area, obsessed with leaving texts of ancient egyptian script at the crime scenes. as an analyst for the bau, you’re assigned to stay in the conference room with spencer in order to help decipher what the killer is trying to tell authorities. you share a smile with the boy next to you, both eager to tackle yet another assignment together.
you were hired to the bau as a young academic fresh out of graduate school, the same year as spencer. you two initially bonded over your shared love of reading, of analyzing text. it’s this skill that’s made you an asset to the team. you can decipher handwriting left by criminals in order to profile them; you can understand and analyze complex documents left for you at crime scenes, just like in today’s case. you found a partner in spencer very early on. you two were assigned those kinds of analytical tasks often, and proved to be very good at it, good at working together, at being together.
it wasn’t long before the mere sight of him started to give you butterflies, your chest constricting with affection. you cherish the late nights you’ve spent with him, in and outside of the office, inspecting documents and handwriting samples, the times where you’ve reached for the same file and your fingers brush together. movie nights at his place on the weekends, when you get so tired you allow yourself to curl into him, to let him wrap his arms around you, to pretend you’re something more. something in your stomach grows hot, and your palms start to sweat. you barely even notice that everyone else has gone off on their own assignments, leaving you and spencer alone in the conference room together. he sends you a million dollar smile and you get to work.
after a few hours of hard work, you suggest taking a lunch break. your lungs rejuvenate from the fresh air as you eat in the courtyard. you close your eyes and tilt your head up, feeling the glow of the sun warm your face, sighing as the vitamin d floats through your body. you can feel spencer’s eyes on you, and your heart kicks against your chest. how much longer you can take without confessing to him, you’re not sure. the limbo of being in love with your best friend is a torturous predicament to be in, especially when you work with him.
“hey, i need to ask you something,” spencer mumbles, and you see him pull out two tickets to a cowboys football game.
your heart now hammers against you, like a boulder spasming in your chest. your hands are sweating, shaking; is this it? could he be doing the hard part for you?
“gideon gave me these on my birthday. i don’t know if you knew this, but it’s j.j.’s favorite team. i was thinking of asking her on a date with them, but i haven’t watched a football game in over ten years,” he chuckles sheepishly, squinting his eyes down from the sun. “do you think it’s a good idea? i thought i should come to you since you’re my best friend, you wouldn’t steer me wrong.”
best friend. those words pierce through your gut like you’ve been shot with an arrow. you’re thankful his eyes are turned away from you, so he can’t see the infliction of those two fateful words.
“um-yeah,” you breathe out, barely audible, “i think it’s a great idea. it doesn’t matter if you don’t really watch football. if she likes you she’ll want to spend time with you, no matter what,” you fake a smile and pray to anyone that would listen to please convey the true message of your words, what you’re really saying. you know it falls on deaf ears, though, as you turn to throw your half eaten lunch in the trash, returning inside 30 minutes earlier than agreed upon.
“woah-where are you going?” spencer hastily cleans his things and jogs to catch up with you.
“i just think we need to get back to work. this case isn’t going to solve itself,” you shoot him a bitter smile, opening the door and not holding it open for him behind you, like you always do.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
j.j.? you think to yourself as you now delegate your portion of the work at your desk. the thought of being trapped in that conference room alone with him after your conversation at lunch unzips a shiver down your spine. your forehead is resting in your palm as your brain fights to focus on the case, and not drift back to spencer.
you were in complete and utter disbelief that the object of his affections has been j.j. this whole time.
j.j. is your friend, and you’re not mad at her. it’s not her fault that she’s the one spencer’s developed feelings for. you’re just completely caught off guard, utter shock clinging to every nerve in your body. you thought, after all of those shy smiles you’ve shared alone in conference rooms, the late night conversations on the jet, the nights you’ve spent at his place, that they meant something more. you’re just shocked none of it did, and that you’ve completely misread your entire relationship with him.
if gideon gave him the tickets, that means he sees what’s going on between them, too. you furrow your brows, squeezing your eyes closed at this revelation. god, you feel so stupid. how could you have let your own feelings blindside you from what your best friend actually wants? you have no future in profiling, that’s for certain.
you see a shadow looming over your desk from your peripheral vision, and you know who it is merely from the outline of his hair. you look up to find a sheepish spencer reid, seemingly nervous to even be approaching you. you hate that. you hate the idea of him on a date with j.j. even more, though.
“what’s up?” you try to sound interested, but you can both hear the restraint lacing your tone.
“i think i found something. we, uh-we need to gather the rest of the team,” he states.
his voice is quiet, small, his big brown eyes are boring into yours. you nod. the tension grows thicker the longer you stare at each other, eyes desperate to convey everything your mouths are too afraid to say. the file spencer was holding slips through his fingers, falling on your desk with a crisp clack. the noise cuts through the trance you find yourselves in, and you go red as a tomato, looking in your lap to avoid those lethal eyes.
“let’s go,” you mutter, walking past him without so much as a glance.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
over the course of the next week, you spend many work hours nursing your bruised ego in penelope’s batcave of an office. as the two analysts of the team, a lot of your work overlaps, so hotch didn’t raise a brow at the sudden change in your routine, not working with spencer so much. you’re able to tell her about everything going on with him during your brief moments of down time, when you’re filing paperwork or doing light research.
“oh. my. god.” she gasps, aware of your feelings of him from the start, “babe. no way,” she swivels her chair so she’s fully facing you, “i’m sorry! i thought he was into you, too,” she frowns, handing you a unicorn plushie from her desk drawer, “here, take mr. unicorn. he’s the best man on the planet.”
you chuckle sadly and squeeze the soft animal, utilizing its comfort as much as you can. “thanks, pen,” you settle your cheek on the squishy animal’s head and look at her sadly, eyes glassy and big, “i think it was too good to be true. he’s almost too perfect, maybe this is a sign.”
you see her deflate at your defeated tone, her hand reaching out to grab yours, running her thumb over your skin. you stay like that for a moment, allowing yourself to feel the complex emotions you’ve suppressed throughout the week. you’ve only spoken to spencer two or three times this week, about work things only, and it’s wednesday. each day that passes like this weighs heavy, like an anvil on your heart. the feeling is so overwhelming you have no choice but to suppress it until you get home, lest the floodgates are unleashed in the same vicinity as the perpetrator.
paperwork it is.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
that following monday, you sit, stewing at your desk, desperate to blend in to the background. you think back to one week ago, one week since you’ve had that fateful conversation with spencer. you nearly have whiplash from how fast things have changed in only a week. you yearn for the softness of that morning, of the blissful ignorance in thinking that you actually had a chance with spencer reid. your heart aches, the vulnerable throb in your chest paralyzing you. you rest your chin in your hands as your eyes mindlessly drift over emails you missed from the weekend, willing your brain to not work so hard unless absolutely necessary.
you’re snapped out of your pity party by the click of a door unlatching, the soft patter of converse on tile filling the bullpen. your eyes involuntarily follow spencer as he barges in. he’s impossible to ignore, clad in the most adorable button up/sweater vest combo you have ever seen in your life, walking full speed ahead with a scowl planted firmly on his face. the look on his face is so wholly unfamiliar, a look of hurt masking his usually soft features, the light in his eyes gone. the contrast is enough to shock you back to life once more, now registering a flustered penelope hot on his tail. the click of her heels echo through the bullpen in a desperate attempt to keep up with a man who is nearly a foot taller.
“spencer-wait! ugh!“ penelope grunts as spencer falls into his desk chair, immediately using work as a means to deflect. his back is to her as he sifts through the files littering his desk.
you study him from where you sit, his brows furrowed, his shoulders slumped, and lips in a tiny pout that pokes and prods at your heart. penelope gives up quick, turning away with a grunt and a look on her face that read ‘don’t ask’. on her way past your desk, though, she leans in and whispers, “meet me in my office after our meeting,” making your eyes go wide and your heart pick up in speed.
you use the new case to distract your mind from what could possibly be going on with spencer, and opt to stay back with penelope during this case. when you make your decision known in the conference room, spencer flinches. you just barely catch it out of your peripheral, you’re not sure you would have even registered it had garcia not smacked you in the thigh immediately after it happened. hotchner’s eyes flit from you, to penelope, then to reid. morgan coughs. the team is then dismissed.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
“she brought you to the date?!” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“yes! i had no idea it was the date,” penelope gushes. you’re setting up materials for the case, waiting for the team to land for more information. in the meantime, she fills you in on the weekend, “i’d just assumed it was a separate event. it never occurred to me that she would invite another person to that. poor spencer’s never been so disappointed to see me,” her tone turns a bit guilty at that, and now it’s your turn to flinch at his name.
“that’s insane, why would she do that?” you ask, bewildered.
“to be honest with you, i have a few ideas…” penelope teases, setting up her computer for the day.
your eyes narrow into slits as she files her nail, feet up and resting on the desk as the rest of her equipment loads.
“what?” you breathe out, even though you both knew.
“come on,” she kicks her feet off the desk and swivels to face you, frozen in front of a box of files, stricken by what you both know is coming next, “it’s you. he has feelings for you, for sure. j.j. knows it too, everyone does. we all see it.”
“really?” you once again can’t believe your ears. relief floods your veins, the rush too sweet to pay attention to your conscious, desperate to sprinkle some guilt in there. you don’t care, though, not after the pure and utter agony of the past week.
“yes, of course! he likes you, i have no doubt about it,” penelope states matter of factly.
you round the corner of the desk and come to sit on a chair opposite her, “what makes you say that?” you’re unintentionally severe, palms resting flat on your thighs, leaning into her as to not miss a word. luckily for you, though, penelope is just as intense.
“it became clear to me when i saw them interact at the game. yes his ego was bruised a little, but he was light, airy. almost relieved. nothing like how he came in today,” she remarks, and your brows knit together in confusion.
“so you’re saying he was at ease with her, but nervous and grumpy when he had to be around me. that doesn’t make any sense,” penelope rolls her eyes at your denial, but you’re quick at the defense with a new argument, “and he told me gideon gave him those tickets to ask her out on a date. it’s her favorite team.”
you cross your arms across your chest and lean back, “i appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, penelope, but if the best profiler on the team could tell he likes her, then he likes her. not me.”
just saying it causes the crack in your chest to reappear, callusing your heart once more.
“ugh, no!” she exclaims, “you two are the most stubborn people i’ve ever met in my life, i swear!” she rolls her eyes and turns back to her now fully loaded equipment as your jaw hangs open in shock.
“what is that supposed to mean?” you lightly scoff.
“all i’m saying is that he was relieved that j.j. brought me, that he was being rejected. after the initial disappointment passed, that is. you’re going to have to get the rest of the information from spencer himself,” she decides, just as her phone starts to ring. saved by the bell, damn her. “talk to each other. you miss each other. everybody can tell and it’s getting sad, like watching two lost puppies roam aimlessly without each other.”
before you can give an answer to her crazy analogy, she turns away from you and flips open her cell phone, “talk to me!” she chirps, and hotch’s stern voice brings you back to the task at hand. you’ll simply have to talk to spencer later. great.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
the team was able to land back at home that same night, luckily closing a quick case. after penelope says goodbye to you and spencer, you’re both the last ones in the bullpen. you two anxiously glance around, desperate for anybody else to be there, to break the suffocating tension between you two, thick and heavy with unanswered questions, words unsaid.
as you walk past spencer’s desk, he goes to walk with you, next to you. you haven’t been this close in proximity to him in a week, and the smell of his cologne, his aftershave, makes you heady. you both stop at the elevator, unsure who should go first. you decide on impulse that it has to be you, you can’t take this any longer. you turn to face him, and say the first thing that comes to your mind,
“she brought penelope?”
had it been anybody else, you may have kicked yourself for shoving your foot squarely into your mouth, but it’s spencer, so he laughs. it’s an eye creasing, cheeks bunched up, teeth showing kind of laugh, and you have no choice but to laugh, too. there’s a pang in your heart as this familiarity dawns upon the two of you once again. you’re desperate to keep it, so much so that you don’t move when the elevator dings and the doors open. neither of you do. you stand there, taking each other in, cheeks warm and breathing heavy, as the doors slide close once again.
“yeah. yeah, she brought penelope,” he remarks, red ears hiding behind his slickened hair. your eyes focus on one particular lock that’s fallen over his forehead, nearly in his eye. a sense of longing pierces your heart like cupid’s arrow, you fall in love with him all over again.
“you should wear your hair curly more,” you croak. spencer is unphased at your sudden change of topic, and sends you a small smile.
you’re the only one on the team that’s seen him with his hair curly. you revel in it any time you’re lucky enough to get a glimpse, when you’re sharing a hotel room or his couch on movie night. a strange nostalgia seizes you as you take in his hair, not realizing how much you’ve missed it, missed him until you’re standing there, taking all of him in.
“maybe i’ll start,” he says back gently, another silence falling between the two of you.
“l-listen, i have something i need you to know,” he says, turning to face you, tone growing more confident as he speaks, “gideon told me to ask out j.j. because i’ve been heartbroken over you for weeks.”
time stops.
“heartbroken?” you’re incredulous. “why? what did i do?” you’re nearly panicking, racking your brain for what you could have done to your best friend.
“n-nothing really. i think i heard you talking to penelope about me one day, about how you don’t see me in that way,” he stutters a bit, his head turned down to hide his flushed cheeks, “i thought there was something between us, but after hearing that-i-i just assumed you didn’t feel the same. it made sense, girls like you don't typically go for guys like me.”
your heart cracks in your chest, “spencer,” you whisper out, “don’t say that,” it’s all you can muster. he’s the most beautiful man on the planet. you’ve never been so sure of anything.
he rolls his eyes and you want to shake him until he believes it, “well, he gave me the tickets to try and put myself out there with someone else. j.j. is great, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not you. no one is,” he says, eyes boring into yours.
you take in every word falling from his lips, your brows marrying together. your brain is flying at a mile a minute trying to remember the conversation he’s talking about. suddenly, you stop. your gaze turns to him, eyes wide as the memory comes to you. it had to have been two months since then, but you knew that wasn’t a problem for spencer. if he overheard, he remembers every word out of your mouth.
you were chatting with penelope in the empty conference room. it was a monday, and you had gone out on a date the weekend before. he was the topic of conversation right before spencer came in, how he was ‘so cute’ with his ‘brown eyes and curly brown hair’, how he was ‘the perfect height- like 6’1-6’2’. and yet, you only liked him as a friend. the reality was, you were searching for spencer in every man you pursued, and none of them ever measured up to him. how could they?
“spencer,” you groan, hiding your face in your hands, “i went on a date that weekend. that’s who i was talking about. not you,” the last part comes out in a whisper as realization dawns on spencer’s face, uncertainty dancing through his big brown eyes.
“why didn’t you tell me you had a date?” he asks, puzzled, “is that why you couldn’t come over for movie night that weekend?”
your heart breaks even more, if that’s possible at this point, you wanted to be there. you wanted to be there so badly.
“i had convinced myself that it would never happen. you and me,” you start, and his eyes grow even wider than before, “i was looking for you every time. in every date. that’s why i never told you. it would never work out anyway, because they weren’t you. i wasn’t brave enough to admit that to myself until just now, i guess,” you grow a bit sheepish as you finish your explanation, your eyes glossy. your gaze finds the floor to avoid his piercing gaze. those eyes will kill you one day.
“what does that mean?” he says, so gentle, so spencer.
“it means i’m in love with you. i have been for years, since we started together,” you gush, tears finally falling over your lash line at your confession.
his eyes shut too, a gentle flutter of lashes against his cheek. you see a tear escape down his cheek, too.
“i love you, too. god, i love you too,” he whispers, moving immediately to scoop you up in his arms. he presses the elevator button again, finally getting you two out of there. he keeps you in his arms, carrying you into the elevator, refusing to let go as he squeezes you tight, legs wrapped around his waist as the doors close shut behind you.
as you descend, you reluctantly put your shaky legs on the floor, pulling away slightly to find his gaze.
“hi,” you whisper, biting your lip to try and suppress the cheesy smile taking over. you fail, grinning so wide and so bright, you’re afraid you might blind him.
“hi, beautiful,” he whispers back, brushing your hair back softly with his hand. he then cradles your jaw in his palm, pressing his soft lips against yours.
it’s a gentle kiss, but a passionate one. you both wish desperately to convey every single time you wanted each other, how long you’ve loved each other.
spencer pulls away from you for a brief moment to ask, “do you want to be my girlfriend? i think maybe we should try dating each other,” his sarcasm has you grinning from ear to ear.
“i think that’s the most genius idea you’ve had yet, doctor,” you lean in to kiss him again. he groans at the title, lips surrendering back into yours.
the ding of the elevator breaks your kiss, and you can’t hide your cheesy grins as you walk into the parking garage, your pinkies linked together.
“do you wanna come back to my apartment tonight? we can watch a movie?” spencer suggests nervously, like you’d say no. god, you love him.
“that sounds perfect,” you smile, pulling him in for another kiss. you can tell he’s expecting a light peck, but you deepen it, your hand finding the nape of his neck. your lips softly click together as you move against each other, your tongue just barely slipping into his mouth.
“see you at home,” you wink and get into your own car, leaving a flustered spencer reid in your wake.
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A Rarity
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~900
Warnings: fluff
Summary: You have a rare genetic code called heterochromia. You have two different colored eyes that you have tried to suppress ever since you got seriously bullied in middle school. Just when you're about to present a case, you find your contact case is missing.
Square Filled: friends with benefits (2022) for @spencerreidbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Today is the day you start your new job as the team’s liaison. You’ve always been part of this since JJ was the main person to deal with it. However, she’s been promoted to profiler which means all the slack now falls on your shoulders. You love interacting with families and comforting them when they most need it.
This is the first case when it’s just going to be you, so you’re kind of nervous about it. Before going into the briefing room, you decide to touch up on your makeup and hair as if you’re going in front of millions on the TV to present the case. You take out your contacts and leave them to rehydrate on your desk while you go to the bathroom to fix your makeup.
Once you’re done, you make sure not to look into anyone’s eyes as you make your way back to your desk. The first thing you do is put away your makeup. The second thing you do is grab your contacts to put them back in but they’re not where you left them.
“Shit,” you curse and go through your entire desk. “No, this isn’t happening.”
You’re panicking at the thought of not having your contacts. You don’t need them to see, in fact, you have 20/20 vision. No, you use them only for color because you have a rare thing called heterochromia. Your right eye is bright blue and your left is bright green. You were born with two different eye colors. No one in your family has this genetic but you, so you have no idea where it came from.
Ever since you were enrolled in school, you were bullied for your eyes. It didn’t start getting bad until middle school when kids were more focused on appearances than learning and making friends. Kids in elementary school actually found them to be cool but only because they were little kids who didn’t know any better.
Your peers made you hate this part of you even though you can’t do anything about it. As soon as you started high school, you begged your mom to get you colored contacts. You’ve been wearing them ever since even into your adult years. You choose a natural blue to make yourself look more normal. Had you not had those, you would for sure get bullied even worse than in middle school.
The longer you went wearing them the more people thought your eyes were just one color. No one at work knows about this or so you thought. The only person who might know about this is Spencer but that’s only because you two have been friends with benefits for quite some time now. It helps to have one to work off the stress from work. Plus, he’s an amazing lover so there’s a plus.
You two aren’t dating just fucking a lot.
While he was getting ready this morning at your place, you were in the bathroom rushing to do your makeup. You hadn’t put your contacts in just yet so if he were to walk in the bathroom, he’d see your eyes for what they truly are. He was getting ready and peeked through the open door to see if you were close to being done when he saw the beauty in your eyes. He didn’t say anything about it so as not to embarrass you.
He walks into the bullpen from the break room to see you panicking.
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“Where are my contacts? I just had them on my desk.”
“I didn’t know you wore contacts,” he lied. You refuse to look at him without them in. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. You have glasses, right?”
“Yes, but--”
“But what? What’s the problem?”
“Never mind,” you groan and continue looking for them.
“Hey, look at me.” When you don’t, he sets his coffee down on the desk and grabs your chin gently. He makes you look at him but you close your eyes so he doesn’t see their colors. “Open your eyes.”
“No,” you shake your head.
“Darling, open your eyes,” he says gently.
He would be the person to find out eventually. You sigh and open your eyes to show him the rarity you have. Now that he gets to see them up close, he’s falling more in love with you. You might not have feelings for him but he certainly has them for you. He only keeps you as a fuck buddy because if he were to tell you the truth, he might lose you.
“What beautiful eyes you have.”
“They’re ugly,” you sigh and pull away from him.
“Who told you that?”
“Everyone I’ve ever known,” you scoff. You look at your watch and notice the time. “Shit, I have to give the case out.”
“No one is going to notice.”
“Are you kidding me? They’re so bright. They stand out.”
“Fine, if they make comments, I’ll handle it.”
You have no choice but to go in there without your contacts. You sigh and grab your things before heading to the briefing room with Spencer. Everyone is already in there waiting so you immediately get started. As you’re talking, you notice Spencer watching you with a smile on his face.
“You’re beautiful,” he mouths to you.
Your cheeks heat up but you don’t let it show how happy he makes you. The briefing only lasts thirty minutes before Hotch announces wheels up. When everyone is packing up to get out of there, you notice something sticking out of Spencer’s back pocket. 
Your contact case. You want to be mad at him for taking it but maybe it’s time to let your rarity shine.
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x
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theostrophywife · 5 months
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if u have time could u do theo taking care of a drunk reader?? thank u sm ❤️
here (in your arms).
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pairing: theodore nott x reader.
song inspiration: here (in your arms) by hellogoodbye.
author's note: in a soft fluffy theo mood. don't text.
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The boisterous sounds coming from the common room party filtered through the empty corridor of the boy's dormitories, making you sway to the beat of the music as you lifted your fist to the door. You rapped against the wood three times—your signature knock to let your best friend know that it was you on the other side.
You stepped back as the door swung open, revealing a disoriented Theo. His ruffled hair flopped over his eyes, the brown waves slightly flat on the right side, which you knew was his preferred side to sleep on. A twinge of guilt tugged at your heart as you watched the sleepy boy before you, his Chudley Cannons sweatshirt and light grey lounge pants indicating that you had probably interrupted his slumber. A rarity, given that your best friend suffered from insomnia more often than not.
Rubbing his eyes, Theo adjusted to the darkness of the hallway and glanced down at you. In your tiny little dress, you shivered in the cool air of the dungeons, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to chase away the goosebumps.
"Hi Teddy," you whispered. "Did I wake you?"
"You did, but I don't mind." Theo said softly, rubbing up and down your arms to provide some much needed warmth. "What are you doing still up?"
"Pans convinced me to play another round of beer pong," you confessed. "You should have seen us. We obliterated the boys. Malfoy threw a fit."
The silly giggle that you covered behind your hand made Theo smile. If your constant swaying wasn't enough of an indication that you were currently inebriated, the deep red flush on your cheeks, neck, and arms told Theo all that he needed to know. You were absolutely sloshed.
"I'm sorry I missed it, dolcezza." When your body temperature refused to thaw, Theo shrugged off his jumper. For a brief moment, you caught a glimpse of his toned stomach, his olive skin glimmering in the dim lighting. You bit your lip, averting Theo's gaze. Luckily, he was too preoccupied with pulling the jumper over your head to notice. "Come in, let's get you warm, yeah?"
"Mmkay," you murmured in agreement. You trailed behind Theo, almost knocking into the doorway until he laced his fingers through yours, guiding you inside his dorm.
"There's a door there, amorina."
"Don't make fun, Teddy." You huffed, pouting as you followed closely behind. "Your room's too dark. How can you even see anything in here?"
Theo chuckled. "Sure, let's blame the lack of light instead of the fact that you're smashed."
"Am not," you countered, plopping onto Theo's large, plush bed. "I'm perfectly sober, thank you very much."
"Fine. Then who was the Minister of Magic during the Goblin Rebellion in 1752?"
"There were two ministers at the time. Boot was in office first, then he resigned due to mismanagement. Basil Flack replaced him." You smirked at your best friend, feeling rather smug. "Just because I'm bevvied doesn't mean that you'll catch me lacking, Theodore."
Theo raised a brow. "So you admit you're drunk?"
"You tricked me!"
"Guilty as charged." Theo admitted, plopping down right next to you. "So, did you bail on the party just to hog my bed?"
"It's not my fault that yours is much more comfier than mine," you mumbled, cocooning yourself underneath his comforters. "Plus, the party wasn't as fun without you there. I needed my partner in crime."
"I thought you'd be glad that I studied for the History of Magic exam instead of getting shitfaced. You're the one always telling me off about partying too much."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd actually listen."
"It's you," Theo said with a smile. "Of course I listened."
"I never thought I'd live to see the day when Theodore Nott is more responsible than me."
A smile tugged at your best friend's lips. "Well, one of us has to be. You're a mess, Y/N," he teased. "But you're my mess."
"As if that's not the pot calling the kettle black."
Theo chuckled as you buried yourself in his blankets, hiding from him entirely. He snuck underneath the covers and scooted closer until you were face to face.
"Hello," Theo whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist. He buried his face in the crook of your neck and hugged you liked he hadn't seen you all week. "I've missed you quite terribly."
"It's only been a few hours, Teddy." You replied, giggling as you brushed his hair back. It was getting so long, but you loved how soft and fluffy his locks felt as you ran your fingers through it.
"Says the girl who snuck into the boy's dorms to see me."
"Okay, so maybe I missed you too."
"That's what I thought."
You stayed intertwined for a moment, your hearts beating in sync as you clung onto one another. When you yawned, Theo patted your leg. "Come on, love. Let's get you ready for bed."
"But I'm already comfy," you whined, burying your face in his chest.
"I know, amorina. But you'll feel so much better after you've washed your face." You pouted in response. "I promise I'll make it quick. Then we can cuddle, okay?"
You nodded. "Okay, Teddy."
Theo smiled before giving you a piggyback ride to his private bathroom. Setting you down on the counter, he pulled out the makeup wipes that he kept in the drawer for this exact reason. You swung your legs in the air as he wiped the foundation off your face. With his brows furrowed and his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, you'd never seen Theo so concentrated.
You grinned and pinched his cheek. "You're so cute when you're focused."
He quirked a brow as he helped you wash off the remnants. "Only when I'm focused?"
"No, you're cute all the time. It's infuriating." You lamented as Theo patted your face with a face cloth. He hummed, spreading serums and moisturizers on your skin like he'd seen you do a thousand times over.
"Oh? Care to share?"
"Hmm," you hummed, leaning into his touch. "I think it's cute when you hook our pinkies together in the hallway so I don't get overwhelmed by the crowd. Or when you get crumbs all over your face and grin like a little kid when I catch you raiding my cookie stash. Or how your eyes light up when we're watching the stars at night."
"You noticed all of that?" Theo asked softly.
"It's you," you answered, mirroring his words from earlier. "Of course I noticed."
The shy smile on his face made your heart flutter. "For the record, I think you're cute too. I think you're the cutest girl I've ever seen in my entire life."
"Sounds like you have a crush on me, Teddy."
"I have for the past six years. Thanks for finally noticing," he said with a chuckle.
You groaned, burying your face into his neck. "Don't say that to me when I'm drunk. What if I don't remember it tomorrow?"
Theo kissed the top of your head and carried you off to bed. "Then I guess I'll just have to remind you in the morning, love."
With a grin, you kissed the tip of his nose. "Thanks for taking care of me, Teddy."
Theo smiled. It was so beautiful that your heart ached to bear witness to it. As he tucked you into bed and wrapped his arms around you, the boy that you loved pressed a kiss to your temple and spoke a promise into the night.
"I'll always take care of you, Y/N."
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Taglist: @annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar
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drchucktingle · 1 year
Note
hey chuckie, how do you get published and also over the fear of nobody liking your work.
my initial way was to trot a SELF PUBLISHED trot, which is pretty dang exciting because anyone can do it. after writing about four hundred books WORLDS GREATEST AUTHOR CHUCK sent a message to a big time publisher name of nightfire and said 'will you publish my horror novel in all stores?' and they said 'yes bud'
so basically to answer first question of 'how do you get published?' it is both simple and difficult. SIMPLE in that i just started self publishing which anyone can do but DIFFICULT in that i did it for a long time and wrote till my dang eyes fell out.
but honestly i do not think this is the real question.
i think what is really being asked is: how can i climb over the greatest hurdle of all, the voice telling me that i am no good?
the way is to understand that YOU ARE GOOD AT BEING YOU. in fact YOU ARE PERFECT AT BEING YOU. there is LITERALLY NOBODY BETTER, not now, not in the past, not in the future. you are a brilliant eruption of rarity in the middle of endless time stretching forever in either direction.
when i say 'i am the worlds greatest author' i HECKIN MEAN IT, but this does not mean that i am better than you. the podium i stand on is not just for one buckaroo, it is for ALL BUCKAROOS. there is plenty of room at the top because YOU CAN BE THE WORLDS GREATEST AUTHOR TOO. IN FACT, YOU ALREADY ARE.
now that you realize you hold this power and prestige, what are you gonna do with it? that is up to you bud. id say you should go out and publish your dang incredible book
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apute11as · 4 months
Text
I hate it when she makes you laugh ~ Leah Williamson x CEO!reader
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Summary: You get a new assistant and let’s just say Leah isn’t very good at hiding her jealousy.
Warnings:⚠️ None i’m pretty sure :)
word count: 2032
Author note: Based on THIS request (so sorry it took so long) Also, Leah never did her ACL, Covid never happened.
————
You had inherited an investment firm from your late grandfather 3 years ago when you were just 21. You had turned the the small town business into a multi billion dollar company, earning you a lot of attention from magazines, social media and other people in the investment industry.
Your mother had passed away when you were 15 and it was her father that owned the company so when he died, it transferred directly to you.
Being in the position you were, meant that you met with and attended many events with A-list celebrities, some of them being athletes. That was how you’d first met Leah, the two of you bonded over your shared distaste for the food menu, both agreeing you’d much prefer some toast over the variety of fish on offer. You’d laughed, drank and danced together throughout the night before she invited you back to her apartment, an invite that you gladly accepted.
You woke up the next morning with a fluttery feeling in your chest and a familiar ache between your legs, that told you enough about your night. The two of you had met up constantly after that, although you both had busy schedules. You’d ended up meeting her teammates and parents after a month of dating and safe to say they loved you.
——
Now, 2 years later you were 24 and she was 26 and you’d been officially dating for almost two years now. Life was blissful, Arsenal had just recently come second in the WSL (something you’d decided was a good result, much to your girlfriend’s disagreement) and all was well.
As for your company, the recent incline of growth, your advisors had insisted you get an assistant. You’d assured them that it wasn’t necessary and would just be a waste of time but after some convincing you reluctantly agreed. The interviewing process to find one was tough. You’d gone through several applicants before finding the right
one (you were particular in your choices of company). After a gruelling process that took more several hours, you finally decided on an assistant. Ava was 21, fresh out of Uni and had little experience. Despite this, you saw some of your younger self in her, admired her ambition and also she could hold a somewhat interesting conversation. Many of the applicants lacked personality and motivation, they were robotic and boring.
With that being said, you hired her. She fit in well into your life, as you were very precise in your task doing and a control freak at heart, something she seemed to understand all to well, considering she’d prepared your weekly schedule perfectly on her first day. You came home that day a little earlier than normal due to Ava’s organisational habits, surprising your girlfriend with the rarity of a home cooked meal on a weekday. The two of you discussed your new assistant over the warm lasagne you’d prepared for dinner. Although you saw Leah’s reaction as one of support and warmth towards your new employee, in reality she could feel the pangs of jealousy in her upper stomach as she listened to you ramble about how great Ava was and how much easier she’d made your week.
——
It was December, usually a quiet period of business as many people chose to save for Christmas and there weren’t many properties being sold. However, this year it was unusually busy, meaning you were staying out later and later in the office.
Leah didn’t mind this of course, she was more than understanding, knowing the pressure and stress your job brought. She waited up for you every night with a warm meal (takeaway or microwave as she was a horrendous cook). So when you came home at quarter to midnight after a long day, she was waiting for you.
The sight you saw upon entering your shared penthouse was one of Leah asleep on the sofa. Her blonde bangs stuck out in all directions as she was out cold, an episode of greys anatomy playing softly in the background.
“Oh my girl” you spoke softly, caressing her cheek.
Her eyes fluttered open as she took in her surroundings.
“Hi baby” she husked in a sleepy voice. “Have you eaten? There’s leftover pasta in the fridge I somehow managed not to burn it” she smiled to herself
“Thank you my love but me and Ava ordered food in a couple of hours ago” you replied returning her smile, hand drifting onto her shoulder.
“Oh right okay” she grumbled, shifting her body weight so your hand dropped down.
“I’m going to get changed into something comfy okay? Then we can cuddle” you left, oblivious to your girlfriend’s growing jealousy.
“Mmm” she hummed, eyes fixed on the television screen.
——
When you returned, you expected her to be asleep on the sofa but, as you’d went into the bathroom to freshen up, she’d crawled into your shared bed and was sat up on her phone.
You put down your toothbrush and shimmied your way into bed next to her, attempting to cuddle up to her but you were surprised when she shoved you away.
“You don’t smell like you” she complained. “Your perfume is vanilla, you smell like flowers it’s like a 16 year old” she scoffed
“Oh that’s odd, probably Ava’s perfume, she asked me to try and see what I thought. You don’t like it baby?” you questioned frowning at her body position, as she’d now turned away from you.
“No I don’t like it” she snapped, turning out the light and going to sleep
You were unsure what caused this sudden outburst but you knew Leah and knew not to push at it when she was in a mood so you let yourself drift slowly into sleep, making a mental note to bring it up tomorrow.
Her alarm went off bright and early at 7am as she had morning training. You decided to get up with her, despite not having to be in the office until 11am for a meeting. You went through the usual steps of your morning which involved showering (Leah opted against as it was easier to wait until after training), breakfast, dressing and prepping yourself for the day.
Leah was behaving seemingly normal this morning, whatever her issue was yesterday had appeared to have subsided. She hugged you from behind, adorned in her training gear, as you prepared breakfast tortillas for the two of you, wearing a black pantsuit yourself.
“Morning beautiful” she husked into you neck
“Morning my love, do you want ham or just cheese?” You questioned her preference as she was indecisive.
“what no peppers?”
“Do you like peppers Leah?”
“No” she mumbled into your back
“Then no peppers” you titled your head to crack a smile at the blonde
“Weird you’re not trying to sneak vegetables in me today” she laughed
Just as you were about to respond, you were interrupted by your phone blaring from its place on the counter.
“You get it babe, I’ll watch the food” she assured
You silently agreed, shifting to the counter to grab your phone, not bothering to look at the caller id before picking up and not bothering to realise you had speaker on.
“Morning Miss Y/L/N, I’m so sorry to bother you on your morning off” sounded Ava’s voice on the other side of the phone
“Sorry one second Ava I put you on speaker by mistake” you laughed shuffling into the bedroom and shutting the door, completely missing Leah’s expression shift to one of anger and her knuckles turn white from how hard she was gripping the frying pan.
Leah could hear the two of you conversing loudly in the other room. Although you’d turned Ava off speaker, she could still hear your responses. The conversation sounded awfully friendly for one between boss and employee, especially considering you’d been complaining to her this morning about how stressful today was supposed to be as you’d had a meeting with an important investor.
You snapped her out of her thoughts as you giggled like a school girl, laughter Leah interpreted as flirtatious. She was furious now, she trusted you whole heartedly but she didn’t for one second trust Ava. Also, although she’d never admit it, her insecurities in herself and your feelings toward her, played a big part in her jealousy.
——
You wandered out of the room a few minutes later, smiling at your phone as you’d realised that the meeting you’d been trying to get for weeks with a new client, had been arranged.
“You two were laughing an awful lot in there, what was so funny?” questioned Leah in a harsh tone.
“Oh haha nothing Ava just messed up something small with names and was calling to correct it” you laughed
“Hmm usually correcting something small doesn’t take a 10 minute phone call” Leah bit back.
“Noo but she did also tell me that the meeting with UOC inc. went through, we have some of their top board members coming in next week!” You beamed, proud of the accomplishments of your company.
“That’s amazing baby I’m so proud of you!” Leah smiled, pushing down her jealousy to be happy for you.
——
It was on Friday when her jealousy of your assistant finally came to your attention. You and Leah had somewhat of a Friday tradition between yourselves, where she’d meet you at your office at 7pm with food (usually a salad or sushi as she was on a strict diet plan). This happened every week without fail, no matter what the other had going on, even if that meant pushing it forwards or back a few hours, it still happened.
She’d stopped off at dominoes today as an extra treat to show how proud she was of you, after you texted her to say that UOC inc. were open to a deal that would see the company progress even further. She parked her car in your private parking, greeting Roman (a member of your security) on her way in. Excitement filled her body, she couldn’t wait to kiss you, to tell you how thrilled she was and how much she loved you. However the sight she was met when she opened your office door caught her off guard.
You were sat in your desk chair, Ava sat in the corner on your arm chair as the two of you laughed at a TikTok on her phone, a sure sign that you were definitely not just working late.
“Leah hey! Oh my god I didn’t even realise the time” you chuckled, checking the expensive watch she’d bough you last Christmas.
“Sure you didn’t, what’s she still doing here?” She snapped, gesturing harshly at Ava who had paled under the defender’s cold glare.
“She was just showing me something Leah, don’t be rude!” you cautioned, taking a tone of your own.
“Seems like she’s been showing you an awful lot lately doesn’t it and now she’s here, now, on a Friday?” She explained.
It finally hit you, her hands were balled into fists, eyebrows furrowed in displeasure, Leah was jealous of Ava. You could’ve laughed at the irony but that would only provoke her more.
“I’m so sorry, I’ve eaten into your time y/n! Especially considering you’d planned to share it with your girlfriend. My boyfriend will be here in just a minute, thank you for the chat, I’ll see you Monday!” She blurted, shuffling awkwardly past Leah and practically bolting down the corridor.
“Boyfriend?” Leah huffed out.
“Yes Lee, boyfriend. I can’t believe you were jealous of my straight employee, who’s basically a teenager” you laughed openly at her.
“Ugh you’re so annoying” she sulked
“You’re so cute when you’re jealous baby” you cooed, pinching her cheek
“Oi get off” she slapped your hand away, rolling her eyes
“Is that for me” you beamed, gesturing to the bag of food in her hands.
“Not anymore” she sassed
“Oh yeah right” you scoffed, making a beeline for the bag, wrestling her to the floor.
“Hey you idiot” she giggled, a smile replacing her previous frown as you sat on top of her, making grabby hands at the food.
———
thank you for reading! <3 My requests and Dms are both open (even though it could take a little time for me to get around to) :)
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pin-k-ink · 3 days
Note
miya osamu who is possessive. he makes sure you know you're his. grabby in public, hand on your back, your waist, fingers in your pussy on public transport. i feel like he's the kinda guy to apologize when he's going to rough, when he's hurting you, but he just can't help it. probably has a breeding kink and just wants to stuff you so full
axiom // miya osamu
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tw ⇢ possessive!osamu, jealous!osamu, lots of pda, public sex, fingering, begging, asphyxiation, breeding, multiple rounds, creampie, unprotected sex, one spank, overstimulation, name calling, praise kink (receiving), marking, getting caught
wc ⇢ 7.7k
a/n: spent all night writing this for you, nonnie. god, i wanna marry samu so bad
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The familiar bustle of Onigiri Miya surrounded you as you tended to the last customer of the day. The aroma of freshly cooked rice and savory fillings filled the air, but beneath the comforting scents, an undercurrent of tension emanated from your boyfriend. Though Osamu tried to maintain a casual demeanor, leaning against the counter with an air of nonchalance, you couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of his mounting frustration.
The way his hand curled into a tight fist, knuckles turning white from the force of his grip. The rhythmic throbbing of the vein in his neck, pulsing in time with his accelerated heartbeat. The clenching of his chiseled jaw, the muscles flexing beneath his tanned skin. Even the aggressive tapping of his foot against the tiled floor betrayed his inner turmoil, each staccato beat echoing in the space between you.
Your own heart raced with a potent mix of concern and confusion. What had triggered this sudden change in Osamu's usually calm, patient demeanor? It was a rarity to see him so visibly agitated, his composure cracking under the weight of an unknown pressure. As the customer finally took their leave, you allowed your gaze to wander around the shop, seeking answers in the familiar surroundings.
That's when your eyes met Atsumu's. He sat at a nearby table, his long fingers absently tapping against the polished mahogany surface, a pensive expression etched onto his handsome features. The moment your gazes locked, however, his eyes widened momentarily, a flicker of recognition sparking within their depths. Then, just as quickly, his lips curled into a knowing smirk, as if he held the key to a secret you had yet to find out.
The unease that had been simmering in your gut intensified, a sense of foreboding washing over you like a chilling wave. What did Atsumu know that you didn't? Before you could dwell on the question further, a pair of strong, familiar arms coiled around your waist, pulling you flush against the solid warmth of Osamu's chest.
The sudden contact sent a shiver racing down your spine, your breath catching in your throat at the unexpected intimacy. "'Samu? What's—"
"The back. Now." His voice was low and clipped, each word laced with an authority that left no room for argument. The warning squeeze of his fingers against your hip only served to emphasize the urgency of his demand.
Waves of apprehension crashed over you as you processed his words, your mind reeling with the implications. Osamu was undeniably angry—that much was clear from the tension radiating off him in palpable waves. But the reason behind his ire eluded you.
With a hesitant nod, you released yourself from his embrace and began to make your way towards the storage room at the back of the shop. Each step felt heavy, as if your feet were encased in concrete, your mind spinning with a whirlwind of possibilities. What had you done to incite such a reaction from your usually level-headed boyfriend?
Time seemed to stretch on indefinitely as you waited anxiously in the small, musty confines of the storage room. The air was thick with the mingled scents of dried goods and cleaning supplies, the shelves looming overhead like silent sentinels. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, a frantic bird desperate to escape its bony prison.
When the door finally creaked open, signaling Osamu's arrival, your breath lodged in your throat, your pulse skyrocketing with a heady mix of anticipation and trepidation. You barely had a chance to utter a word, to form a coherent thought, before he was upon you, his lips claiming yours in a searing, possessive kiss.
His hands gripped your hips with a bruising force, fingers digging into the pliant flesh as he pulled you impossibly closer, erasing any lingering distance between your bodies. A soft, involuntary moan escaped your parted lips, muffled by the insistent press of his mouth against yours. Your own hands rose to clutch at his broad shoulders, fingernails scraping against the fabric of his shirt as you surrendered to the intensity of his kiss.
The heat of his body, the unyielding pressure of his lips, sent desire coursing through your veins like molten lava, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole. Just as quickly as it began, however, Osamu abruptly tore his mouth away, leaving you breathless and aching for more.
"What was his name?" he demanded, his voice rough and low, his stormy eyes boring into yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.
"Wh-what?" you managed to stammer, your mind still hazy from the intoxicating kiss, struggling to make sense of his sudden question.
"That last customer, what was his name?" Osamu repeated, an edge of impatience creeping into his tone, his words laced with a subtle growl.
You blinked rapidly, trying to clear the fog of desire that clouded your thoughts, attempting to grasp the significance of his inquiry. "Keisuke. Why?"
Something dark and primal flickered in the gunmetal depths of Osamu's eyes, a possessiveness that sent a delicious thrill racing down your spine. He reached for you once more, his large hand splaying across the small of your back, pressing your body flush against the hard planes of his chest. "So you remember his name?"
"What the—"
Your words were cut off by Osamu's exasperated sigh as he released you roughly, causing you to stumble back a step, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribcage. Any retort you might have mustered died on your tongue as you watched him reach for his belt, his intentions unmistakable in the purposeful movements of his fingers.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a sinful promise, dripping with dark intentions that made your core clench with anticipation. "By the time we're done, you won't even remember what he looked like. Now, why don't you bend over f’me?"
There was a certain smugness in the way he spoke, as if he knew he'd already won. And the worst part was, deep down, you knew he was right. Because as you bent over, ass up, ready to take him, all thoughts of the nameless customer were wiped from your mind. The only name that mattered was Osamu's, and by the time he was done with you, you'd be screaming it loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.
As his name spilled from your lips, tinged with a mix of reverence and desire, you knew you were lost. But as his fingers slipped between your thighs, brushing against the heated flesh, sending pleasure rippling through your core, you couldn't bring yourself to care.
"Fuck, you're already soaked, sweetheart," Osamu groaned, his thumb rubbing slow, torturous circles around your clit.
"I'm not the only one," you gasped, arching your back and pressing against his hard length, trapped inside his jeans.
"Oh yeah? And who's fault is that, huh?" he murmured, swiftly turning you around to face him, the tip of his nose grazing along your jaw, his warm breath fanning over your ear.
"Yours," you replied breathlessly, your own hands fumbling with the zipper of his pants.
He chuckled, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down your spine, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin of your neck. "Damn right it's mine."
You could feel his smile against your skin, and despite the haze of lust that clouded your mind, you couldn't help but grin. He was arrogant, but he had every right to be. He was the one who'd managed to make you this wet, after all.
With practiced ease, he slid your panties down, letting them fall to the floor in a silken puddle. Then, without warning, his fingers were inside you, curling and pumping with a rhythm that had your knees buckling.
"Fuck, 'Samu," you whimpered, your nails digging into the soft flesh of his bicep, leaving behind faint crescent-shaped indents.
"That's it, sweetheart," he breathed, his other hand tangling in your hair, tugging your head back until your eyes met his. "Let me hear how much you love this."
You could only moan in response, his fingers working their magic inside you, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. Your own hands continued to work on freeing his cock, a task made more difficult by the distracting waves of pleasure radiating through your body. But, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to release him from his confines, your fingers wrapping around his thick shaft, stroking him with a pace that matched his own.
His fingers sped up, the slick sounds of your combined pleasure filling the air, a lewd melody that only served to heighten the intensity of your impending release. You could feel the tension building inside you, like a coil wound too tight, ready to snap at any moment.
And when it did, it was with a ferocity that left you shaking in his arms.
Osamu's fingers worked you through your orgasm, drawing out every last drop of pleasure before pulling out. You barely had a moment to recover before his cock was sliding between your folds, coating himself with your juices.
"Fuck, I can't wait to be inside you," he groaned, his voice strained with desire, the heat of his words sending a fresh wave of arousal through your body.
"Then do it," you challenged, your eyes locking with his, a playful glint in their depths. "Stop teasing me."
His lips curved into a smirk, his hand trailing down the curve of your spine, before landing a sharp smack against your ass. The unexpected sting only fueled your desire, a gasp slipping past your lips.
"Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, a hint of amusement in his voice.
With agonizing slowness, he slid inside you, his cock stretching and filling you to the brim.
You couldn't help but moan, the sensation of being filled by him sending a rush of ecstasy through your veins. He stilled for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size, before beginning to move.
His thrusts were slow and deliberate, each one eliciting a breathless moan from you. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, coupled with the friction of his pelvis against your clit, was enough to send you spiraling into another mind-blowing orgasm.
"Yes, that's it, sweetheart, come for me," he growled, his own pleasure evident in his voice, the rhythmic clenching of your walls around his shaft.
As the waves of bliss began to recede, you could feel him picking up his pace, his thrusts becoming more erratic, chasing his own release. His fingers dug into your hips, the bite of his nails against your skin, only serving to intensify the pleasure coursing through your veins.
"Come on, 'Samu, fill me up," you urged, your voice barely above a whisper, a breathless plea.
"Fuck," he groaned, his grip tightening almost painfully, the tension of his impending release coiling through his body.
And with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, spilling inside you, his hot cum painting your walls. The sensation pushed you over the edge once more, your own release tearing through you with an intensity that left you trembling and breathless.
Slowly, reluctantly, he pulled out, leaving you feeling suddenly empty. Before you had a chance to recover, however, he was capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, the taste of him mingling with the sweet flavors of his food.
"What brought this on?" you asked breathlessly, once he'd finally released you. He smirked, his eyes full of mischief. "Can't a man want to fuck his girlfriend without having to justify it?"
"You're unbelievable," you laughed, rolling your eyes.
"You love it," he teased, pulling you closer, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "And I'm not finished with you yet."
Realization crashed over you like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from your lungs and sending your pulse into overdrive. Osamu was jealous. The man renowned for his unwavering patience, the one who had endured countless incidents of his brother's shameless flirting and innumerable customers vying for your attention, had finally reached his breaking point.
A thrill raced through you at the thought, your skin prickling with a heady mix of excitement and apprehension. Osamu had always been an attentive, passionate lover, his touch igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with each passing day. But you knew that beneath the surface, he kept his darker desires locked away, a carefully maintained restraint that never fully unleashed the depth of his hunger for you.
Now, it seemed, that fragile control had shattered. From that moment on, everything shifted, the very fabric of your relationship rewoven with the threads of Osamu's all-consuming possessiveness.
Gone were the days of working the front counter, of engaging in friendly banter with the customers who frequented Onigiri Miya. Osamu's jealousy knew no bounds, his need to stake his claim on you overriding any semblance of professional decorum. Each night, he would pull you into the back room, his hands roaming your body with a desperate urgency, his lips marking your skin with bruising kisses that served as a reminder of who you belonged to.
At first, the intensity of his passion was exhilarating, a heady rush that left you craving more. The way he claimed you, the force of his touch, the raw hunger in his eyes—it all combined to create a potent mix of desire that coursed through your veins, setting your nerves ablaze with an insatiable need.
But as time wore on, the cracks in the foundation of your relationship began to show, Osamu's jealousy bleeding into every aspect of your daily life like an insidious poison.
It started with small gestures in public, seemingly innocent displays of affection that belied a deeper, more primal urge. The way his fingers would intertwine with yours, his grip just a little too tight, a silent declaration of ownership. The way he would bring your joined hands to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles, his eyes daring anyone to challenge his claim on you. The way he would pull you close, his arm a heavy, reassuring weight across your shoulders, a tangible barrier between you and the rest of the world.
But as the days turned into weeks, Osamu's actions grew bolder, more brazen in their possessiveness. It was as if he needed to constantly remind the world that you were his and his alone, consequences be damned.
One particularly memorable incident occurred outside the shop, as you waited for Osamu to join you for your anniversary date. The evening air was crisp and cool, the stars twinkling overhead like diamonds scattered across a velvet sky. A group of teenagers loitered nearby, their laughter and chatter filling the night with a youthful exuberance.
You paid them no mind, lost in your own thoughts as you anticipated the romantic evening ahead. That is, until one of the boys broke away from the group, sauntering towards you with a cocky grin plastered across his face, his eyes alight with a boldness born of teenage bravado.
"Hey, lady—"
The words had barely left his mouth when Osamu appeared at your side, his arm snaking around your waist in a clear display of possession. His grip was iron-clad, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hip, a silent warning to anyone who dared to encroach on his territory.
"She's taken. Fuck off." His voice was a menacing growl, low and guttural, laced with a palpable threat that sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes, normally a warm, inviting shade of gray, had hardened into chips of ice, narrowed in a withering glare that could have frozen the very marrow in the unfortunate teenager's bones.
The boy, to his credit, had the good sense to retreat, scurrying back to the safety of his friends with his tail tucked firmly between his legs. Osamu's chest puffed out in satisfaction, a primal display of dominance that sent a thrill racing through your veins. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair, a silent affirmation of his love and protection.
From that moment on, Osamu's public displays of affection only escalated, each one more daring than the last. At a dinner with Atsumu and his teammates, he kept you wedged firmly between his solid form and his brother's, a human shield against any unwanted advances. His hand rested possessively on your thigh beneath the table, his fingers tracing idle patterns against your skin, a private claiming that set your nerves alight.
When the waiter had the audacity to openly flirt with you, going so far as to ask for your number in front of the entire table, a tense silence descended upon the group. Forks paused midway to mouths, eyes darting between you, Osamu, and the oblivious server, a collective breath held in anticipation of the impending fallout.
To everyone's surprise, Osamu remained outwardly calm, his expression betraying no hint of the storm brewing beneath the surface. He allowed you to politely decline the waiter's advances, your words measured and diplomatic, even as your heart raced with a mix of discomfort and irritation.
The waiter, however, seemed determined to push his luck, his eyes lingering on your face, his smile just a touch too friendly, his words laced with a suggestive undertone that made your skin crawl. Atsumu, ever the protective brother, was about to intervene, his patience wearing thin in the face of the waiter's persistence.
But before he could utter a word, Osamu cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the tension like a knife through butter. "Oh, I need to go and close up shop. I'll see you home, honey."
With that, he reached out, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in the soft strands of your hair. He pulled you in close, his lips claiming yours in a deep, possessive kiss that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into overdrive.
He made a show of it, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip, a soft moan of pleasure rumbling in his chest. When he finally pulled away, you were left breathless and flushed, your lips swollen from the force of his kiss.
The waiter, thoroughly humiliated, could only stand there, his mouth agape, his cheeks stained a deep crimson. Osamu, for his part, merely smirked, a triumphant gleam in his eyes as he slowly walked out of the restaurant.
In the days that followed, Osamu's possessiveness seemed to level off, the tension in his body easing, the constant need to hover at your side diminishing. But his desire to touch you, to stake his claim on your body and soul, remained as insatiable as ever.
One particularly memorable incident occurred on a crowded train, your bodies pressed flush against each other in the cramped confines of the carriage. The gentle sway of the train, the rhythmic clacking of the wheels against the tracks, created a hypnotic backdrop to the charged atmosphere between you.
You felt the ghost of Osamu's touch on the back of your thigh, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin, sending a jolt of electricity racing up your spine. You gasped, your eyes widening as you looked up at him, a silent question in your gaze.
Osamu merely smiled, the curve of his lips soft and affectionate, his eyes alight with a mischievous glint. He leaned down, his nose nuzzling against yours in a tender gesture that belied the heat simmering just beneath the surface.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he whispered, his breath fanning across your face, his words a sinful promise that made your core clench with anticipation. "You just look so irresistible today. I can't keep my hands off of you."
As he spoke, his fingers inched higher, grazing the lace edge of your panties, a teasing touch that set your nerve endings ablaze. Your heart raced, a potent cocktail of excitement and nervousness coursing through your veins, your skin prickling with a heady mix of desire and apprehension.
Osamu's hands were blatantly beneath your skirt now, his fingers kneading the soft flesh of your rear, his touch bold and unapologetic. If the train hadn't been so crowded, your intimate moment would have been on display for all to see, a public claiming that sent a thrill racing down your spine. But Osamu showed no signs of stopping, his lips peppering your face with tender kisses, his touch growing more insistent with each passing second.
The feeling of being desired, of being wanted so fiercely by the man you loved, was intoxicating. The thrill of potentially getting caught only heightened the experience, sending a flood of heat pooling between your thighs.
You leaned into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you pressed yourself closer to his firm, muscular body. Your hand gripped his bicep, your nails digging into the smooth skin, a silent plea for more.
"Osamu, please..."
The soft, breathless whisper was enough to shatter the last vestiges of his self-control. He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth, a sinful, desperate melding of lips and teeth and tongue.
His hands roamed your body with a fervent urgency, mapping every curve and plane with an intimate familiarity, as if committing each inch of your skin to memory. His touch was a branding, a burning mark of possession, his desire a blazing inferno that threatened to consume you both.
You clung to him, your fingers grasping at his shirt, the fabric clenched tightly between trembling digits, as you tried to ground yourself amidst the tumultuous storm of emotions. Your heart raced, a deafening crescendo pounding in your ears, the very air around you charged with the electric energy of your passion.
Osamu's lips traced a heated path along your jaw, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, his tongue laving the tiny bite marks, soothing the sting with his gentle ministrations.
"Mine," he breathed, the word a reverent, possessive murmur against your ear, a secret only you were privy to. "All mine."
His hands roamed the supple curve of your ass, his fingers squeezing the pliant flesh, a groan of appreciation rumbling in his chest.
"Fuck, baby, I want you so bad."
His voice was a low, husky rumble, laced with an aching need that made your pussy clench, the heat between your thighs nearly unbearable.
"I want to fuck you right here, in front of everyone, so they know you're mine."
You could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you, a tangible proof of his desire, the heady scent of his cologne enveloping you like a cloud. You swallowed thickly, your lips parted in a silent moan, a heady mix of pleasure and fear coursing through your veins.
"God, Samu, please..."
Your words trailed off, your voice a breathless, desperate whisper, as Osamu's hands found their way between your thighs. His fingers grazed the damp fabric of your panties, the feather-light touch eliciting a gasp from you, the sound drowned out by the clamor of the train.
"Fuck, baby, you're so wet for me." His words were a sultry growl, laced with a dark, primal hunger, the sound sending a shiver of desire racing down your spine.
Your mind was hazy, the sensations overwhelming, your body thrumming with a desperate, aching need. Your hips bucked against his hand, a silent plea for more, a plea he was only too happy to oblige.
"That's it, baby, let me take care of you." His fingers slipped beneath the thin, silky fabric of your panties, his thumb brushing against the slick, sensitive bud of your clit, a teasing touch that sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through your body. You bit back a moan, your teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your lower lip, the faint metallic taste of blood mingling with the sweet, salty taste of Osamu's kisses.
His fingers slid along your dripping folds, the sensation almost unbearably intense, the sound of his voice, a low, sultry murmur, drowning out the chaos around you. "I'm gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart, don't worry."
With that, his fingers plunged inside you, his deft digits stretching you in the most delicious way, a welcome intrusion that made your core clench, a choked whimper escaping your lips.
You clung to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck, the smell of his cologne a heady, intoxicating scent.
Your hips rocked against his hand, a slow, steady rhythm that matched the sway of the train, the friction creating a delicious, aching friction that threatened to send you over the edge.
"Samu, please, I need you," you whispered, your words a breathless, desperate plea, your core clenching around his fingers.
Osamu chuckled, the sound a dark, seductive rumble, the low timbre vibrating through your body. His lips brushed against your ear, his breath fanning against your heated skin, a sensual, forbidden promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart, l'm gonna give you everything you need."
As he spoke, his fingers moved deeper within you, the pads of his digits brushing against the bundle of nerves hidden within your walls, a spot he knew all too well. He increased the pressure, the movements of his fingers unrelenting, the pace building, a slow, torturous crescendo.
The sensations were overwhelming, the pleasure bordering on pain, the air in your lungs burning, the muscles of your thighs quivering, the heat coiling deep within you reaching a fever pitch. You could feel the tears stinging your eyes, the words slipping from your lips a frantic, broken mantra.
"Please, please, please, Samu, please."
"Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, passionate kiss, his tongue plunging into the warm cavern of your mouth, a deep, carnal melding of lips and teeth and tongue. His fingers were a relentless piston within you, the sensations pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, a tsunami of pleasure coursing through your veins, the intensity making your knees buckle, your fingers digging into the solid muscles of his biceps. You could feel his smirk against your lips, the smug, satisfied curve of his mouth only adding to the overwhelming sensations.
He slowed his movements, the pace languid and unhurried, drawing out your pleasure for as long as possible, the soft, teasing caresses making your toes curl, a shuddering aftershock rippling through your body. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tangling with yours, his lips lingering against yours, a soft, loving press, before slowly pulling away.
His eyes were hooded, the gray orbs a stormy, smoky shade, his pupils blown wide with desire. His lips were slightly swollen, a rosy pink from the fervent nature of his kisses, the curve of his smile a tender, adoring expression.
"God, I love you," he murmured, his voice a reverent whisper, a sacred declaration.
You could feel the blush blooming across your cheeks, a rosy, flustered flush that made him chuckle. His thumb gently wiped away the stray tear that had slipped from your eye, his touch a reassuring, steadying caress.
He pressed one last, lingering kiss to your lips before carefully extracting his hand from between your thighs. You watched, mesmerized, as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out, a sly, teasing lick, his eyes never leaving yours.
"God, baby, you taste so good," he murmured, the words a low, husky rumble, his voice laced with a dark, sensual undercurrent.
"I could eat you all day."
You shuddered, a fresh wave of desire coursing through your veins, the very image a visceral, erotic fantasy come to life. But before you could respond, the train screeched to a halt, the automated voice announcing your stop, the sudden cacophony of voices and movement jolting you back to reality.
You hastily smoothed down your clothes, your hands frantically straightening your skirt, a vain attempt to hide the evidence of your passion. Your hair was a mess, the once carefully styled strands now tousled and tangled, a disheveled testament to the fervent nature of Osamu's affections.
By the time you reached your stop, your body was thrumming with a desperate need, your core aching for the relief that only his cock could provide.
As he led you off the train, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, your mind swirled with a dizzying array of emotions. The intensity of Osamu's love, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own, was both thrilling and overwhelming, a force of nature that threatened to consume you whole.
The moment you crossed the threshold of Osamu's house, the air between you crackled with a palpable tension, a desperate hunger that could no longer be denied. With a growl of impatience, Osamu's strong hand encircled your wrist, his grip firm and unyielding as he tugged you towards the bedroom, his movements fueled by a primal urgency that set your blood ablaze.
The door swung open with a bang, the sound echoing through the quiet house like a gunshot, but neither of you paid it any mind. Osamu's focus was solely on you, his stormy gray eyes darkened with a lust that stole the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into a frenzy.
In a tangle of limbs and gasping breaths, you tumbled onto the bed, the soft mattress yielding beneath your weight. Osamu wasted no time in climbing over you, his body a solid, comforting weight that pressed you into the plush comforter. His legs straddled your hips, his knees bracketing your thighs, keeping you pinned in place, a willing captive to his desire.
Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, your skin prickling with anticipation as Osamu lowered his head, his lips seeking yours in a bruising kiss that stole the air from your lungs. The press of his mouth was demanding, his tongue delving past your parted lips to tangle with yours in a sensual dance that set your nerve endings ablaze.
His hands roamed your body with a desperate urgency, his fingers skimming over the curves and planes of your form, mapping every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory. Each touch, each caress, each scrape of his blunt nails against your flesh sent bolts of electricity racing through your veins, igniting a fire in your core that threatened to consume you whole.
You arched into him, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his back as you surrendered to the onslaught of sensations that assaulted your senses. The scent of him, a heady mix of sandalwood and musk, filled your nostrils, intoxicating you with its potency.
The taste of him, a tantalizing blend of mint and spice, lingered on your tongue, leaving you wanting more. The feel of him, his skin burning hot against your own, his muscles flexing beneath your palms, was almost too much to bear.
You were drowning in him, consumed by his love and desire, and you never wanted it to end.
With a groan, he tore his lips from yours, his gaze raking over your flushed features, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. "Mine," he breathed, the word a low, possessive growl that rumbled deep in his chest. "Mine to fuck. Mine to breed."
The promise of his words, the raw, visceral need in his voice, sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. Your body responded to him instinctively, your thighs parting to allow him access, your core aching with an emptiness that only he could fill.
You were his. And you always would be.
A feral grin spread across Osamu's face, his canines glinting in the low light as he pushed your skirt up, his fingers brushing against the damp lace of your panties. "Look at you, so wet and ready for me," he murmured, his tone laced with a mixture of pride and satisfaction.
"Your body knows who it belongs to, doesn't it?"
You nodded, unable to form a coherent response, the anticipation of what was to come rendering you speechless.
Osamu leaned down, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered, "Tell me. Tell me who you belong to."
"Y-you," you stammered, your breath hitching in your throat. "I belong to you, Osamu."
He let out a low rumble of approval, his teeth nipping at your earlobe before he pulled away, his eyes locking with yours. "That's right," he murmured, his voice heavy with desire. "And I'm going to remind you of that, over and over again. I'm going to fill you with my seed until there's no doubt in your mind who you belong to."
Osamu shifted, his knees pushing your thighs wider apart as he settled between your legs, his erection straining against the confines of his pants. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the promise of what was to come making your pulse race and your stomach flutter.
You were desperate for him, aching for the pleasure only he could give you. But before you could reach for him, he grasped your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head, his grip rough and commanding.
"Stay still," he commanded, his free hand tracing a slow path down your chest, his fingers skimming over the curve of your breast before cupping the mound, his thumb grazing over the taut peak of your nipple.
The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your back arching off the mattress, a needy moan slipping past your lips.
"Patience," he chided, his touch featherlight as he continued to tease your sensitive bud, his dark gaze drinking in the sight of your flushed cheeks and parted lips.
Arousal pooled between your thighs, the dampness of your panties betraying your desperation.
"So eager," he mused, his fingers pinching your nipple, the sudden burst of pain mixing with pleasure. "But we're just getting started."
Osamu released your wrists, his hand trailing down your stomach, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He dipped lower, his digits finding your slick entrance, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves with a slow, deliberate stroke.
Your hips bucked against his touch, your need for release becoming unbearable, but Osamu held you in place, his fingers circling your clit with a torturous slowness that made you squirm.
"Please," you begged, your voice breathless and needy. "Please, Osamu. I need you."
"I know," he replied, his tone husky with lust.
"I need you too. I need to fill you with my cum, to breed you like the good little girl you are."
Arousal trickled down your thighs as his fingers stroked your folds, his touch alternating between rough and gentle, his movements designed to push you closer and closer to the edge.
Your heart pounded in your chest, your skin burning with a feverish heat as you teetered on the precipice of orgasm. But just as you were about to fall over the edge, Osamu pulled his hand away, his fingers glistening with your juices.
"Not yet," he murmured, his gaze darkening as he brought his fingers to his lips, his tongue darting out to lick the sticky-sweet liquid from his digits. "I want to savor this."
He pressed his hips against yours, the hard length of his cock straining against the confines of his trousers, the friction sending a shockwave of pleasure through your core.
You could feel the urgency in his touch, the desire coursing through his veins mirroring your own. His desire to claim you, to mark you as his, was undeniable, his need for you almost feral in its intensity.
As his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties, tugging the damp fabric down your thighs, his breath fanned against your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate skin. "I'm going to breed you. Going to fill your pretty little pussy with my cum, over and over again, until your womb is filled to the brim. I'm going to breed you, and you're going to beg me for it."
The sound of his zipper, followed by the rustle of fabric, sent a thrill of anticipation through your body, your core clenching with need.
Osamu gripped your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh as he lined his cock up with your dripping entrance.
"This is mine," he growled, his voice laced with possessive hunger as he pressed into you, his cock stretching your walls with a delicious friction that sent a ripple of pleasure through your body. "And I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."
You clung to him, your nails raking across his back as he buried himself inside you, his girth filling you completely. His thrusts were hard and deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit, the pressure building with each passing second.
Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your eyes locked with his as he fucked you with a ferocious passion, his hips slamming into yours, his cock reaching places that made you see stars.
Your moans mingled with his, the sounds of pleasure filling the air, the two of you lost in a primal dance of ecstasy.
The feeling of him, his thick shaft pulsing inside you, his breath hot against your neck, was almost too much to bear. But just as the familiar tension coiled low in your abdomen, just as the pressure threatened to overwhelm you, Osamu pulled out, leaving you teetering on the brink of release.
"Not yet," he growled, his gaze dark and wild as he flipped you onto your stomach, his hand gripping your hips, pulling you towards him.
Your fingers curled around the sheets, a moan slipping past your lips as his cock teased your entrance, his tip barely grazing your folds.
"I'm not done with you yet," he murmured, his voice laced with desire as he plunged into you, his pace frantic and demanding.
Your walls clenched around him, your body shuddering with each thrust, his name tumbling from your lips in a breathless cry.
"That's it, sweetheart. Take it. Take my cock," he growled, his hand snaking around your throat, pulling you flush against his chest, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "I'm going to breed you like the little cumdumpster you are. I'm going to fill you so full of my cum that you'll be leaking it for days."
His words ignited a fire in your core, the friction of his cock against your walls sending a wave of pleasure through your body, your climax crashing over you in an earth-shattering orgasm.
Your walls clamped down on him, your body writhing beneath him, his name falling from your lips in a breathless chant.
"Cumming for me already?" he asked, his voice heavy with arousal. "I'm not surprised. Your body was made for this, made for me. You're going to take all my cum, aren't you?"
You could barely form a coherent response, his relentless pounding overwhelming your senses.
The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, his grip on your throat tightening, his breath hot against your skin, was almost too much to bear.
The coil within you tightened, the pressure mounting, until it finally snapped, your vision going white as another orgasm crashed over you, even more powerful than the last.
"Fuck," he hissed, his hips stuttering as he reached his own peak, his cock pulsing inside you, spurts of hot cum filling you to the brim.
"That's it. Take it. Take my cum, pretty."
You sagged against him, your limbs trembling, your core clenching around him, milking him for every last drop.
You felt him lean forward, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
"Don't worry, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a low, husky rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. "I'm not done with you yet. This is just the beginning."
As the minutes passed, you slowly came down from your high, the room coming back into focus, the scent of sweat and sex permeating the air. Your heart hammered in your chest, your body aching from the strain of being used, but Osamu's hold on you was gentle, his touch soft as he cradled you against his chest.
"You did so well, sweetheart," he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, his fingers trailing over your skin. "I'm so proud of you."
You hummed in response, too exhausted to speak, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulling you into a peaceful sleep.
But the moment his hands began to roam once more, his fingers teasing your still-sensitive folds, his lips trailing down your neck, you knew that the night was far from over.
His touch, his love, his desire, was a drug that you could never get enough of. And as his lips claimed yours in a bruising kiss, his cock hardening against your thigh, you knew that you were powerless to resist.
As the night wore on, the intensity between you and Osamu only seemed to grow, each moment more heated than the last. His touch, his kiss, his very presence consumed you, drawing you deeper into a world where only the two of you existed.
Hours later, as the first light of dawn crept into the room, the evidence of your passion was clear. The bed was a tangled mess of sheets, the pillows scattered haphazardly across the floor. Your clothes lay strewn about, a reminder of the urgency with which they had been discarded.
Your body hummed with a pleasant ache, a physical reminder of the pleasure you had shared. Osamu's arm was draped across your waist, his chest pressed against your back as he slept, his breath tickling the nape of your neck.
Osamu had been true to his word, claiming you again and again, filling you with his cum until your core was dripping with it, the smell of sex permeating the air.
You couldn't remember how many times you had orgasmed, how many times he had driven you to the brink of madness, but the memory of his touch, his lips, his cock, was seared into your mind.
The feeling of him inside you, the warmth of his seed flooding your womb, was enough to make your toes curl.
You could still feel him, his cock still snugly encased within your gummy walls, ensuring that none of his potent seed escaped you while he slept.
Just as you were about to drift off to sleep again, a sudden commotion from the living room jolted you awake. Beside you, Osamu stirred, his brow furrowing in irritation.
"What the hell?" he muttered, his voice rough with sleep.
Before either of you could investigate, the bedroom door burst open, revealing a grinning Atsumu. He took one look at your naked forms tangled together on the bed and let out a low whistle.
"Well, well, well," he drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "Looks like someone had a good night."
Osamu grabbed a pillow and chucked it at his brother's head. "Get out, you pervert!"
Atsumu dodged the projectile with a laugh, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I just came to make sure you two lovebirds were still alive. You weren't answering your phones."
You felt your cheeks heat up, suddenly very aware of your state of undress. Pulling the sheet up to cover yourself, you shot Atsumu a glare. "We're fine, thanks. Now, if you don't mind..."
Atsumu's grin only widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sure, sure. I'll leave you to it. But just so you know, the walls in this place are pretty thin. You might want to keep it down next time."
With a wink and a cackle, he ducked out of the room, narrowly avoiding the second pillow Osamu launched at his head.
Osamu flopped back onto the bed with a groan, throwing an arm over his eyes. "I'm going to kill him."
You couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation cutting through the lingering tension. "Maybe next time we should go to my place," you suggested, snuggling up to Osamu's side.
He peeked at you from beneath his arm, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Or maybe next time we should be even louder, just to piss him off."
You grinned, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I like the way you think."
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yaut-jaknowit · 2 months
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Trio of bad bloods obsessed with their human mechanic. So much so that said human has no choice but to live on their ship because they'd be dammed if someone else touched you! (Not that the human is complaining, lol) The human is smitten :3 perhaps said human teases them to break the sexual tension?
Scared to come off anon still, but I adore your works! ♡
Not A Bad Sight
Pairings: Mai'tuiudh (Male), A'jiadh (Male), Zaikeh (Female) x Mechanic!Reader
Word Count: 2179
Summary: The same trio always shows up every month, sometimes even shorter. You've come to learn more about them both in contact and in passing. You work on their ship. They do ask for you by name. You get their craft operating every time. The longer this goes on, the less the trio wants to let you go.
Author Note: This is a fantastic idea! I loved writing this so much. Also, this gave me an idea for anons. For those who are using Anon, could you use an emoji or even a nickname to distinguish everyone. Another thing, I promise I don't bite! If you want to jump into my Dms and rant about Yautjas, I'll be right there with you
Masterlist
Ao3
Sweat dribbled down your forehead. The heat of the place nearly overwhelming if you hadn’t grown use to it day in, day out. A small electrical fan spun on the highest setting and blew slightly cooler air at you. Not too much of a difference. Someone would have to pry the thing out of your melted, sweat hands before you would give it up though.
With your forearm, you swiped away the offending salty drip of water and continued to tighten a bolt. This was such an easy fix, one any of those hunks of meat could easily do themselves. They are known to get their hands dirty.
Those large muscles you knew had to take years to perfect aren’t a sight you would turn away from. Said muscles could easily unlogde this moderate size space rock, pull the damage panelling up, then replace it.
Not even the hardware underneath the panel was damaged. But nope, the trio came sauntering and always asked you by name. Your boss could care less. It earned her money. Money in both of your pockets was a job well done. Though, you came by honesty with them and let them know this was more trouble for their pockets then it was worth to have you fix. All of them insisted you fixed it, trusting their ship in your hands.
For whatever reason, they always wanted you to make all the repairs on their vessel.
Said vessel was sleek, clean, a speed class with just a hair of defense to take a hit or two. The speed came with its downfall when it came to space junk or debris. That’s why it’s here right now.
A grunt surpassed your lips once the last bolt was secured. You proudly smirked down at the completed work then hoped off the wing.
This ship was a beauty to work on. Yautjas rarely let anyone work on their ships. So, to have an opportunity like this fall into your hands. It would be stupid to pass it on to someone else. Especially seeing all three of them walk out of the shop to pass the time. You hated to see them go but the sight was beautiful.
Like the countless times before, you send a ping to Mai’tuiudh. He’s the leader of the bunch. Well… ‘leader’. He takes charge during the transactions but it’s A’jiadh who chats you up. Then, there’s Zaikeh. The lumber giant even to the other two. A female from the pieces of information you’ve been able to pull about Yautjas and their societies.
Due to the day winding down, you stayed up at the front desk and waited for your familiar customers to walk through. A tablet in hand to keep yourself busy until then.
It’s a rarity to see a female, that you know of from personal experience and the universe wide web. The reason is unknown to you but maybe you could pull the information from one of them one day.
Of course, who knows if the Yautjas are purposefully removing knowledge of their inner workings. They don’t actively seek out other species and stick to their own. A forward going species with a serious attitude that hung to the very depths of their DNA.
A soft ding pulled you from your device and glancing at the only door in and out of this place. In walked the trio you’ve grown to know. You stood up and dipped your head in greeting. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite customers,” you greeted with a knowing smirk, your eyes finding Mai in the front.
Said male strolled into the front area and stopped at the counter dividing the four of you. His partners in crime followed in after him and paused at his sides. A’jiadh leans onto the stone tabletop and pushed closer to your personal space. There was a glint in his eyes you’ve grown to learn. He’s a cheeky little fucker and loves to see you act in any submissive way. You didn’t know if this was him personally or a trait among the Yautjas being such a dominant race.
The others showed the same trait but less of an amount. Just in causal passing, you guessed.
Before Mai could have the chance to speak, A’jiadh beat him to the punch. “So, dollface, everything fixed up for us or were you wanting to see us again for encouragement? Because I can give you all encouragement you could ever ask for,” he teased and leaned even closer to you.
Countless times around the forward Yautja, you’ve learned to just stay where you at. You huffed and rolled your eyes. “You know you could’ve fixed this yourself. You have all the right tools. Nothing was damaged,” you voiced the situations details again with a helpful tone.
Despite not falling into his tricks, A’jiadh wasn’t discouraged at all. No matter how many times you ignored the flirty comments he would throw at you.
Mai shoulder checked the mottled olive green Yautja to the side and fully stepped up to the plate. “How much?” His voice was gravelly and sent a shiver down your spine every time.
You grabbed the tablet off of the counter and scrolled through the list of customers until landing on them. The price was something you would never be willing to pay for something so simple that a child could do… if they had the strength to get the bolts off. But these are Yautjas. Probably the strongest known species that traveled the universe.
Labor and materials do cost a pretty credit around here though. You’re the best known in the system.
A heft sigh pushed the air out of your lungs. You set the tablet on the tall counter in front of him. “Well, it’s gonna be a pretty five-hundred and six credit repair,” you said and pointed towards the bottom of the page where it was typed out.
A’jiadh ‘oo’ed then lifted one of his upper mandibles, resembling a human-like smirk. “Pretty like you.” You raised a single brow at the Yautja before you put your hands on your hips, jutting one out.
“Love, you couldn’t handle me,” you said and shook your head to feign discouragement to the Yautja. It’s not like you wanted them to give up. No, instead, you wanted them to chase. Predator vs prey.
Fire blazed to life in his teal blue eyes. You weren’t oblivious to their intentions. Far from it. You knew their game as the hunters their species is known for. A game you were more than happy to play along with. But it’ll be a hard game. No easy mode.
“Is that so?” he purred out, muscles tensing as if he was readying himself for a hunt.
Before the game could continue between the two of you, Mai handed back the device. “All paid,” he interrupted and rested an elbow on the high counter afterwards. Your gaze jumped over to him. You took the tablet back and set it off to the side.
“Well, come on folks, your chariot awaits.” They’ve been back here so many times that you didn’t necessarily needed to lead them but decided to anyhow. Again, you would love to be on the other side of them. All of them walking away.
The door opened to reveal the massive hanger with many other vessels in here for repairs. Always busy, always working here. A shop that does good work always has an influx of customers. That’s this shop.
Closer to the front of the line up, sat their beautifully crafted ship. You loved to work on it every time they brough it in. Stunning in style and sleekness. You could never get enough of it. A smile worked its way onto your face before you stopped and about faced. “Here’s your beauty. Everything checked out. I got bored and ran a check on all the systems to ensure they were working properly. No issues. I’m happy to say she has a clean bill of health.”
Zaikeh stopped at your side, facing the ship. She looked down at you. Like usual, the black scaled Yautja stayed quiet and observed you within the silence. It freaked you at first but you have come to learn that’s just how she is.
“Got any questions for me?” you asked the trio before fully releasing the ship back into their care.
A’jaidh chirped and crowded into your space. You didn’t back down and enjoyed his heat brushing against your skin. A better feel than the sweltering heat the hanger gets on average. “What would it take for you to come with us?” he questioned.
Out of all the times you’ve interacted with them, these words surprised you. Your brows shot up to your hair line. Your mouth sputtered for a moment to find the right words. “W-what do you me-an?” Come with them? In what way? You don’t travel very often. The shop keeps you busy and happily wealthy to live in a comfortable apartment by yourself in a safe area on the planet.
He moved closer, your chest to his midriff. You didn’t see it happen before you felt another source of heat trap you to A’jaidh. “I think you know what he means, little one.” The smooth voice of Zaikeh met your ears. You could melt into a puddle from the heat inside of you, boiling your blood to steam.
“Like go with you guys?” you needed clarification before agreeing to anything. All this talk, this game you’ve played was in its last quarter, you had to make the last goal to win.
“Be our mechanic. Only ours. We’ll keep you safe, fed, and pampered,” Mai whispered into your ear, surprising you from his sudden appearance. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to escape. They caught their prey.
You.
“All you have to do is stay with us,” Mai muttered softly in your other ear, somehow moving around quickly. He was showing off his prowess and abilities as a hunter. “Be our mechanic. We’ll take care of you, little ooman.”
Your heart stuttered in its bony cage. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and gave the idea a thought. The ability to reach for the stars, go anywhere with them. Yeah, the shop was fun, the money was good. But this here, was an opportunity you would die for. Kill for even. Three Yautjas wanted you. You wanted the three Yautjas.
All the plays you endured while playing this game with them is paying off. You swallowed your nerves and straightened your spine before looking to the side at Mai. He was the leader after all. “I’ll go with you,” you accepted, couldn’t deny the way your body vibrated with anticipation and anxiety.
A Cheshire-like grin spread across his alien face. “Good, because it wasn’t a choice. You’re ours. No one is allowed to touch you or even look in your general vicinity,” Mai growled and brushed his knuckled against your cheek.
“Yeah, we aren’t below kidnapping you. But, we’re glad you’ve decided to come willingly,” A’jaidh joined the conversation.
Kidnapping?! “You were going to kidnap me? That doesn’t seem very honorable. Wouldn’t that break your honor code?” you questioned and tilted your head.
The hand that brushed against your cheek snatched your chin to lift up your head. Mai’tuiudh stood up tall before your form. “Honor? Oh sweet thing, we don’t care about honor. We are Bad Bloods after all,” he admitted. Your eyes widened at the realization that these Yautjas aren’t part of the majority of their species society. Instead, they’re the rouges who’ve broke their promise and honor. There was nothing holding them back from killing you.
And you loved it.
The two Yautjas pinning you between them finally backed off and allowed you to have some breathing room. Mai kept his hold on your chin and dragged you closer to him. “You’re ours now, ooman.” Then Mai let go and motioned towards the ship. Without complaint you happily skipped towards the belly of the ship.
Just like them, you knew the ship like the back of your hand. You tapped in the code to lower the ramp and waited for it go fully down. A glance behind you showed they were following you into their ship. Nothing could wipe off the smile on your face. A new, exciting chapter in your life.
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