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#just take my word for it!!! it all works perfectly!!!
tonycries · 6 hours
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Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.
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Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?
Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)
A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.
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You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 
And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 
We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…
What? 
No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.
You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”
Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 
Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 
You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 
Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.
You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.
Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-
“Oh? Still open?”
“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 
And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?
“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”
“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”
You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”
Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”
Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”
“Congratulations, Mr…”
“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 
You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”
“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”
What?
You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”
“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”
There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”
Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”
Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”
“...you do.”
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”
“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”
And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 
“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”
That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 
And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 
You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”
---
And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 
“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”
“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.
You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”
Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 
“Alright. Plan B, then.” 
Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”
Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”
At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”
“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”
“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”
It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 
“Fine.”
The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”
And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”
He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.
Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 
And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 
You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 
“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”
“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 
“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”
Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”
With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 
“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 
Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”
You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 
“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”
That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.
“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”
It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 
“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”
Your home, for the next month. At least. 
And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 
“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 
“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 
“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”
It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 
“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 
Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”
And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.
“Ichiji.”
“Yes, young master.”
“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”
“Of course, young master.”
---
Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 
Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.
Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…
“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 
Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”
“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”
He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 
Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”
At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”
“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”
He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”
“For the divorce.”
And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.
You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 
“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”
And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 
You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 
But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.
The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”
Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”
“Only for you.”
Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.
Stammering out, “Corny.”
“Only for-”
“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 
Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 
Gathered here - for you. 
Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 
“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”
My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”
It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.
He wins.
“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 
You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.
It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.
Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 
Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”
You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”
“A waitress, she said?”
“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”
“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”
The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”
“Mother, be quiet or-”
“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”
Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 
Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”
Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”
“I understand.”
“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”
“My wife and I are leav-”
“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 
Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.
His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”
Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 
“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”
Thud!
It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 
“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 
He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 
“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”
You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”
What the fuck happened?
He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 
Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.
“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 
“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”
You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”
That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.
---
“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 
The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 
You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”
He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.
“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 
And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.
---
Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 
The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 
But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 
“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.
Something else also happened - something different.
Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”
“You wish.”
“Maybe I do.”
Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-
“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”
Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”
The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 
“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 
You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”
And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 
Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 
Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 
Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 
“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”
Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 
Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 
“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”
Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.
 Were you going insane?
Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”
“Thinking of me?”
Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 
“Satoru?”
His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 
Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.
Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”
A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”
Run away. Run away. Run away-
There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 
“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 
You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”
“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”
“So go with me instead.”
“What if-”
“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 
Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  
It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-
And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 
“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.
“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”
He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 
“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 
“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”
He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 
But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 
And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”
“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.
“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 
Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”
You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.
“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”
Rip! 
The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 
Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”
“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”
“You’re awful.”
“And yet you married me.”
With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”
He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”
You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 
Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 
“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.
“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”
You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 
And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?
Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-
“Sh-shit. Toru-”
“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”
“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 
He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-
“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 
“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”
And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”
“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”
“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”
One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 
“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.
And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 
Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 
“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”
You weren’t going to make it out alive.
Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”
And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 
“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 
“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 
And he sees right through you.
“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”
You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 
Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.
“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s��too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 
And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.
“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”
You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 
Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 
“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 
You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.
And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 
“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”
You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”
“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”
“All yours, Toru.”
And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.
With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 
“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”
Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.
And exactly where you wanted to be. 
You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 
“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 
“Close?” 
“Mhm…”
“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”
And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.
Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.
And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 
You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 
And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 
Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”
“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”
Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”
“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”
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A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
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reiderwriter · 21 hours
Text
Flirting with the FBI
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word count: 7.1k
Request: Hiiii!! This is my first time requesting anything on this app, but Spencer reid has me in a chokehold. So, I was thinking that the reader is the unsub, and she's like this very good hacker who keeps teasing the fbi cause she's bored or something so she keeps sending hints about who she is or where she is but they keep getting nothing on her. And all of this just keeps getting on Spencer's nerves. And so when Spencer finds her, she keeps teasing him and acting like a brat so he "disciplines" her and takes her roughly and maybe a bit of spanking???
Warnings: a lot tbh - mentions of case details, mentions of domestic violence and police brutality, reader is a possible target of a serial killer, bad tech skills from the writer who really couldn't be bothered to do anymore research than the actual CM writing team, rough Dom Spencer, brat reader, sexual innuendo, semi-public sexual play, spanking, dirty talk (good girl, brat etc.) fingering, raw sex/creampie, aftercare, slight dacryphilia (crying kink) and bimbofication.
A/N: My last fic was a heartwarming family fic, and now I'm back to being depraved. Apologies to anyone here for cute fluff 😭
Masterlist
You always thought hacking the FBI mainframe would be hard, but it's one of the easiest things you've done all week.
If they were going to sit around doing nothing while a serial killer ran around in their own backyard, then obviously, they needed a helping hand. Or a helping poem or two.
Getting into their security camera feed was just an added bonus.
You grabbed your bowl of popcorn and settled into your desk chair, clicking open the window to find which room exactly they would gather in to freak out together.
You made sure to get their attention, blacking out all the computers in the office as they ran to a backroom where a very distraught looking blonde woman was sat. She was evidently the go-to tech support of about six agents who quickly ran to her room to figure out what the issue was. It was show time.
“There once was a serial killer,
Who ate boys and girl both for his dinner,
He cut, diced and slashed,
Left the feds quite abashed,
So I leave this message to be clearer”
The poem scrolled onto their screen on a loop, flashing in and out quickly before you let the computer systems relax again.
You thought they'd panic, scramble for a pen or paper or something, but none of the agents moved until the flashing was over.
You watched curiously as an older man took charge of the scene, likely directing the woman at the desk to figure out who you were, where you lived, and what your social security number was. She got to work quickly, and he moved on to the other agents.
None of them had written the poem down. None had even taken a picture, but one man started talking, and for a while, all eyes and attention in the room were focused solely on him. His hands moved as his mouth did, as if he were casting a spell over the room as he spoke. Even more intriguing was the fact that he rarely seemed to make eye contact with any of them as he spoke. He wasn't conversing or giving directions. He was simply talking.
And you really wanted to listen in.
The younger man began to walk and you watched him quickly pace over to a whiteboard, switching from one feed to another as he made his way there, and pick up a pen before notating the poem perfectly.
Whoever this man was, he was making you feel more and more excited about the game of cat and mouse you had begun with the FBI. You weren't entirely sure if he was to be the cat or the mouse, though.
A few days later, they'd seemingly lost the motivation to work, so you again did their job for them.
With another accompanying limerick to help them along, of course.
“There once was a bullpen full of agents,
Who thought they were very surveillant,
But a simply code crack,
And there system did hack,
A young girl who lived quite adjacent.”
This time, you let the words linger on the screen longer, as you slipped your information into their files, leaving more bread crumbs they could follow to the real villain.
The Agent - Doctor, you had since learned - took up his pen once again and scribbled your first poem next to your most recent.
Doctor Spencer Reid. An IQ of 187, three PhDs and however many Bachelor's Degrees, a member of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, and, as you could somehow tell from the grainy security footage, incredibly attractive man.
He was calm, again talking with his hands as he notated, again drawing the rooms attention like he was the sun and everything needed to orbit him to sustain life. You wondered what it would be like to fluster him.
Typing something out quickly, you broke back into the FBI system. It was risky doing it again so soon again, knowing that their tech analyst was already actively hunting you down, cyber-wise. But you couldn't resist.
“The tall, dark and handsome employee,
How I do wish that he could enjoy me,
I would gladly submit,
we match wit for wit,
But he's trying his best to arrest me.”
The BAU team stood silent on the camera before the two women on the team burst into rambunctious laughter. The camera feed was archaic, black and white, and grainy to boot, but even you couldn't miss the red stain against Doctor Spencer Reid's cheeks. A bonus was the other gentlemen subtly posturing, trying to figure out exactly which of them was “tall, dark, and handsome.”
The payoff for that poem was so great that over the course of the next few days, you kept serenading him with love poems among your quick hints about the actual crime being committed.
You'd first suspected the man of being dangerous when you'd seen the state of his wife. 19 domestic disturbance calls in two months, 0 arrests, and 1 very cushy job as a police detective. You'd done some simple computer programming for your local precinct, inputting data from cases into an algorithm that helped track everything easier, so you'd been intimate with cases that he'd handled.
A pattern had emerged, a series of murders of “undesirables,” people the city didn't care about when alive and certainly didn't have the resources to allocate to after their deaths. Prostitutes, the homeless, and runaway foster kids. All missing or dead, all cases handled by the same officer. The officer that lived next door to you and was one beer away from beating his wife into submission 5 days a week.
After your third 911 call, you'd been notified of your contract termination with the precinct. After the tenth, you noticed parole cars driving by every hour.
By call number 19, you were sure it was a miracle he hadn't tried to have you arrested.
So you turned back to the FBI to see what they could do about a man who treated his wife, and basically everyone else, like scum of the earth.
“Please don't get sidetracked by my hacking,
I'm a good girl, your team I am backing,
the killer, you see,
Is right now hunting me,
You're the ones who can do better tracking.”
You watched the tension snap back into place in the office as, for the first time, Spencer Reid was silent at your message. They all got back to work quickly, going over the files you'd dropped in their servers.
That night, Spencer Reid stayed in the office late, reading through piles and piles of files and looking for the connection he needed. You watched in pity, feeling almost guilty that you'd placed this burden on him instead of just approaching them honestly. But you'd called the police before, and it hadn't worked, so getting attention anyway you could was the only way to go.
You watched for so long that you began noticing his small habits. Each time you sensed frustration, he would run a hand through his hair and tug it slightly. When he found something, he leaned in closer to the page, as if his proximity to the words would make them clearer. Finally, he stood and began clearing his files. But you weren't quite ready to sign off yet, the shouting already beginning in the apartment next to yours, so you quickly typed out the first thing that came to mind to get him to stay.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,
Who I simply and truly just need,
I would lie on my back,
And then let him attack,
Any inch of my body with his seed.”
He fumbled the files in his haste to remove your words from his screen, from every screen now in the building, face awash with embarrassment as he looked around for some sign that no one witnessed your words.
Luck was not to be had as the tech analyst - Penelope Garcia - came shooting out of her office to join him in the near empty bullpen, and the older team leader - Aaron Hotchner - also looked out over the bannister from his office as they bore witness to your seduction.
You were driving Spencer Reid crazy.
He'd spent the last two weeks tracking down a serial killer who may or may not exist based on the word of a set of limericks delivered to the BAU through illegal means that had begun unabashedly flirting with him.
This latest limerick was his last straw.
“The cameras are how I can see you,
I do find myself enjoying the view,
His hair is so fine,
I wish he was mine,
The agent with more PhDs than two.”
“Another score, pretty boy, it was about time someone noticed your good looks instead of your brain for once.” Morgan patted him on the shoulder, barely containing his glee and laughter.
“She's watching us through security feed, and that's all you have to say?” he grumbled, writing out this limerick again, the words to the others burned into his brain. “She's playing with me.”
“It sure sounds like she'd enjoy doing just that,” Emily laughed from her desk, “but I think she might be right, Spencer. Every case file she's given us has suspicious activity on it. They're all unsolved, but the victims aren't linked.”
“He's crossing race and gender boundaries, but he's hitting undesirables.”
They had a case because of you. It didn't mean he wouldn't enjoy handcuffing you and putting you in a cell once this was all finished.
“WE'VE GOT ANOTHER ONE,” Penelope shouted from her office, to no avail. If it was at one computer, it was on all of them.
“The agents grew closer by day,
As the killer wanted to escape,
He paced across the floor,
As I watched by his door,
Getting closer than the agents could say.”
He paused then for a second, thinking through each of the limericks in turn and the panic began.
“Closer than… Emily, the officer that took in all of the cases, what was his name?”
“Officer Falstaff, why?”
“I think he might be our killer. And I think he knows she's on to him, or if he doesn't, he will soon.” He stood suddenly, grabbing a file and sprinting to Penelope’s office, Emily and Morgan trailing close behind.
“Spencer, wait-”
“No time. If we want them both alive, we have to move now.”
Throwing the door to Penelope’s room open, he didn't even bother with niceties.
“Can you get her a message?” He demanded, panting from the short run.
“A wha-? Spencer, what are you talking about?”
“Can you send the hacker a message? Or leave her one so she can find it when she comes?”
Penelope swivelled around in her chair once again, doing who-knows-what to answer his question.
“There's no telling what she actually sees in our servers, Spencer, we didn't see any breach in classified files, the only thing she's done is read your personal file and drop us hints.”
His hands closed into fists as he nodded along. “So no?”
“No, Spencer, I'm sorry. Why? Are you starting to grow fond of our little helper.”
“She's not our little helper. She's a criminal. And she'll be dead soon if I don't confirm with her that we have the right guy - excuse me.”
The anger was washing over him now, as he left the room to get some air, getting only as far as the corridor before slamming an open palm into the wall and resting his forehead against it for a moment, just thinking.
The stress of the case was almost too much for him as he turned around and rested his back against the wall, sliding down it until he was sat on the floor. He may have despised you at that moment, but he didn't want you to get yourself killed.
Something nagged him, still, some stress or anger that hadn't yet surfaced, or some case fact he was missing. A glint at the corner of his eye had him looking up to the camera currently trained directly on him.
Computers are useless, he thought to himself, when you can send a letter.
The next time you sat down at your desk, you weren't exactly shocked to see an up close and personal shot of Aaron Hotchner - they'd turned your security stream into a one way facetime and you were sat directly opposite the big boss himself in an interrogation room.
“Checkmate, I guess,” you said, waiting for the man to move.
A signal from behind the camera let him know you were online and watching. He picked up a pen and paper and scribbled down something before holding the note out to you once more.
The name and location of the bastard next door. They'd done it, and now you simply had to drop your evidence, shut down your computer, and wait for the sirens to sound.
You felt slightly sad typing out your last message, knowing that you had no more reason to stay in touch with the team now. Still, you were only human and couldn't resist the chance to say something more.
“Aaron Hotchner and his clever team,
Working with you has been like a dream,
When Reid comes it is wet,
And my mind is all set,
Oh, I do wish that he'd make me cream.”
The camera turned seconds after your message was sent, and there he was, reading intently, frow creased in annoyance as he tried to remain calm. He, too, picked up a pen and paper.
“I have questions,” the paper said when he turned it around. Holding it up for a few seconds before returning his pen to paper. You typed out a message before he could finish dictating his, though.
“When you find me there's lots for me to say,
I can't help simply feeling this way,
Your profile I read,
Can't believe you're a Fed,
I yearn for you all night and day.”
Somehow, the lines between his brow deepened as he quickly scribbled out another message. This one wasn't a question, though. It was simply two words.
He'd written your name on that paper. He'd found you.
You weren't sure if the tingle that ran up your spine was fear or anticipation. One one hand, you'd likely committed multiple felonies in the pursuit of justice, and the SWAT team about to pick up the killer was going to knock for you, too. On the other hand, it was pretty much a given that you would be seeing Spencer Reid in person in the next few hours.
“The Doctor had finally cracked it,
The only identity that could fit,
The pretty young thing,
Who'd been flirting with him,
And was thinking of sitting on his…”
You sent a second message along with the first.
“I couldn't make this one rhyme, Doc. Come and get me.”
The sound of the FBI outside your neighbour's door had you stepping away from the computer finally. It was time to get ready to see him. You stepped out of your robe and into the shower as you waited to be collected and hauled into a police vehicle.
xxx
So far, you were a bit disappointed by the look of the BAU offices. It was smaller than it appeared on the CCTV, and you hadn't exactly given the tour. Unless the whole tour was the wall from the elevators, through the bullpen and straight to interrogation room one. You were also slightly embarrassed that you had yet to be greeted by any of your favourite characters yet. The lead swat officer had led you in some desk agents dropping by to have you fill out some simple documents - waiving your rights and all that. You'd seen not even a single member of the BAU since dropping in two hours ago, but you felt his eyes on you.
You faced the mirror, trying your best to stare straight through it and into the man beyond.
Spencer Reid was there. He had to be. He was too curious to be anywhere else. You smiled at him through the mirror and waited.
You were right, of course. Spencer stood on the opposite side of the one-way window and watched you look for him in every inch of the glass. He watched you squirm when you couldn't find anything, watched you pick at your nails as he made you wait.
He watched you cross and uncross your legs, the short skirt you'd slipped into just before you left providing just enough mystery to catch his eye and his breath.
He was annoyed, frustrated, a little bit impressed, anxious, and - to his peril - turned on.
“Spencer,” Hotch said, breaking the man's concentration. “We can't keep her that much longer. Go in and say something, or I'll cut her loose.”
Reluctantly, he pulled his eyes away and stepped out of the waiting room before letting himself into yours.
“Miss Y/N, my name is Doctor Spencer Reid, I'm a profiler working with the Behavioural An-”
“You're joking, right?” You asked, eyes lighting up, spine straightening as you looked up at the man. “I know who you are, Doc.”
“Please call me Doctor Reid,” he asked, setting down a file on the table and looking over the desk at you.
“Oh, I don't even get your first name.” You lifted your leg and ran it along the side of his until he moved his chair back, just out of reach. You pouted as he began reading through documents, asking you to confirm exactly which technical breaches you were responsible for.
“And the breach at 1:27pm on Thursday 5th-”
“Yes, that was me, too. They were all me, Doc, is that all? Are we finished now?”
“I don't know, are we finished? Can I leave?”
“No,” you shouted, just as he stood up to gather his things. “No, don't go. I want to talk to you.”
He sat back down, finally looking at you instead of words on a page.
“Do you enjoy attention, Miss Y/N?” He asked, voice cold but gaze burning like fire into your skin.
“As much as anyone does.”
“Do you enjoy my attention?” The words hung between you for a few minutes as you watched him carefully, searching for the right answer.
“What do you think, Doc?”
“Doctor Spencer Reid,” he repeated reflexively.
“I know your name,” you smiled, and he finally looked away, breaking contact to regroup for a second.
“We have reason to believe you used your backdoor into our system to access my personal file, is that correct?” It may have been asked as a question, but Spencer Reid already knew the answer.
“Yes, I did.”
“Why?”
You laughed at the simple question, sure that your behaviour until this point was evidence enough to answer it.
“Why? Because you're attractive and your smart and-”
“Why haven't you used the content of the files as leverage? I've been digging at you for the last half hour, and you have plenty of ammunition to throw back at me, yet you haven't. Why?”
For the first time in a while, you were speechless.
“Oh. Wow. Should I have said something? Would you have felt more comfortable if I were a horrible person using your background to make you feel vulnerable?”
“Why, Y/N?”
You sighed and looked back up at him.
“I'm interested in you. That's it. Honestly, there is nothing in your file more interesting than how you look running your hands through your hair.”
His jaw clenched and unclenched before he let out a sigh.
“So you're a compulsive liar.” He said it so finitely it was like a kick in the teeth.
“Or maybe you're just insecure. I can help with that.”
He shot you another warning look as a grin spread over your lips. Yes, it was very fun to mess with Spencer Reid.
“FBI Agents aren't allowed to sleep with suspects.”
“You want to sleep with me?”
His eyes went wide as he realized his mistake, mouth opening and closing as he tossed another annoyed look in your direction.
The door to the interrogation room opened, and Reid quickly bolted out of his seat as Aaron Hotchner entered. The two men shared a nod before the younger man left the room entirely.
“Such a shame, I thought we were really getting somewhere.”
To your surprise, Hotchner’s lips curled up in a laugh as he sat down, straightening his suit.
“Miss Y/N, we've reviewed the information you've given us and taken into account your motives, and the FBI has decided not to prosecute you for your actions.”
You sat for a minute, Hotch doing the same, the both of you caught waiting for each other to say something or continue.
“But?” You prodded, knowing there was more left to say.
“But, we'd ask for your cooperation on cases in the future that require technological man-power. In a consultancy role, of course. You wouldn't be given a badge or a gun or any clearance, and you'd need to be with an agent at all times.”
You tapped your fingers against the desk, trying to figure out if this deal was beneficial or not.
“I'll do it if I can pick the Agent.”
Now, the man was fully smiling at you or giving you what you assumed passed for a smile in his books.
“We had recommended Doctor Reid for the role. Of course, if you're more comfortable with another agent, you can-”
“Doctor Reid is perfect, thank you.”
The man nodded and stood, and you stood with him as he led you quietly out of the room.
A flustered Spencer Reid exited the adjoining room, hurrying to catch Hotch before he really signed his life away to you.
“Hotch, what is this?” He demanded, stopping the man in his tracks. They both paused, turning around and moved a few feet awaywfrom.you whispering out their argument.
You couldn't catch most of it, but you did happen to catch the phrases “man-eater,” “I'm not good with people,” and “Spencer, this will be good for you.” Victory in the end went to Hotch, who promptly turned on his heel and kept walking down the hall.
“I work here now,” you said, grinning up at Spencer.
“No, you don't.”
“According to your boss, I do. And you're my babysitter.”
“You're a criminal. You hacked into the FBI database to leave ominous clues to multiple murders.”
“If you call those ominous clues, I'm curious how people usually flirt with you.”
“They don't. Why…why are we having this conversation?”
He stormed off ahead of you, and you quickened your pace to catch up to him, following him down a familiar hallway to what was obviously tech central at the BAU.
“Spencer, seriously? You're walking around looking like that, and no one hits on you?”
He stopped abruptly, and you ran into his back before he turned around to scowl at you again.
“Can we keep this serious, please?”
“I'm very serious about flirting with you, and I'm stumped why more people aren't.”
“Okay, let's go somewhere and talk,” his hand landed on your waist, readying his grip to forcibly move you if need be.
“I thought that's what we were doing.” Instead of allowing him to move you, you leaned into his touch, stepping closer and raising a hand to his chest, as his head dipped to maintain eye contact.
“No, this isn't talking, this is some weird foreplay I've never heard of, and I'd like you to leave my office if you're going to continue,” the woman sat at the desk exclaimed, horror and amusement fighting a battle for her facial expressions. “I like to keep my office a no trauma zone, so please take a walk to the nearest bed or storage closet or car and you can shove your tongues down each other's throats in peace and out of my sight, please and thank you.”
Spencer tried to step away, but a hand on his tie kept him close and kept his eyes on you. You poked your head out around him and smiled at the other woman.
“Sorry to disturb you. I'm Y/N. Based on the tech, I assume we will be working with each other soon.”
“Oh my gosh, you were, like, my number one most hated person last week. Penelope Garcia, tech analyst.”
“I'm sorry about that. If it makes it any better, it was really hard to get past some of your firewalls. And I couldn't even touch the classified files.”
“Apology accepted, on the condition that you lead young Reid out of my office right now before he explodes.”
You grinned and grabbed the man's hand, sending Penelope a quick goodbye as you pulled him out of the room.
He stumbled behind you for a few moments before catching up and pulling you in a different direction, keeping your hands intertwined as he bee-lined for the elevators and pushed the button to go down.
It arrived, and he pulled you in, not releasing your grip until the doors were fully closed and you were alone.
“Getting me all alone, Doc? What do you have in mind?”
“I'm driving you home.”
“My apartment is a crime scene, and I have no family in the city.”
“What about friends?”
“I've been stalked by a homicidal police officer for the last month and barricaded myself into an apartment. Do you think I have friends?”
His gaze was somewhat softer as he looked at you again. You saw the math happening in his head as he tried to figure out what to do with you. You also saw his brain short circuiting when you wrapped yourself around his arm.
“We're friends now, Doc. Isn't that right?”
“What?”
“We're friends,” you repeated again, tone becoming a little defensive in a pout.
“We are not friends, Y/N. We've known each other for less than 6 hours, and we haven't engaged in any friendly conversation.”
“We've known each other for two weeks, and I've been more than friendly enough for the both of us.”
The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. Gesturing for you to go first, Spencer hurried you out of the elevator and into the parking garage.
“Trust me, Spencer, deep down, part of you really wants to be friends with me,” you said poking his chest with a finger. You couldn't resist flattening your hand against his surprisingly hard chest and letting the hand drop slightly.
“And an ever deeper down part of you doesn't want to be friends at all,” you smiled at him.
He caught your wrist before it could reach his belt buckle, your unconscious finish line, spinning you around and dragging you to his car.
The biting cold of metal cutting into your wrists was the first indication that maybe Spencer Reid wasn't as easy to mess with as you'd hoped. He closed the handcuffs around your wrists and handed you into the car as you gaped at him.
“Spencer!”
“Doctor Spencer Reid.”
“I’m not a criminal, Spencer, let me go.”
“I'll let you go when you prove to me you can behave.”
You pouted as he strapped you into the car and closed the door, walking around to the passenger side before letting himself in.
“What's next? Are you going to gag me?” You scoffed as he turned over the engine and began backing out of the parking lot.
“No. I think you'd enjoy that too much.”
The drive to Spencer's apartment was long and quiet as you sat pouting in the passenger seat. Every few seconds, you twisted and moved your arms, fidgeting left and right so he could see how much the restraints bothered you. Luckily, he'd handcuffed your hands in front of your body, so you still sat somewhat comfortably, but you didn't want him to know that.
He pulled up to the building and turned off the engine, pulling out his keys.
“Let's go,” he said, not even sparing you a look as he climbed out.
“Spencer, I'm handcuffed. How do I even get out?”
“You'll figure it out. You're a smart girl, right?”
He closed his door and began walking, and you quickly fumbled your way out.
“Spencer… Spencer, your neighbours are going to ask questions about you bringing a handcuffed girl into your apartment!” You whispered at him as you paced behind him, somehow running to catch up with his mere walk.
“I don't have neighbours like you, Y/N. They won't notice a thing.”
“Right, okay. And when you murder a dozen people over a six month period, they won't hack the federal government.” You rolled your eyes as he unlocked the door, taking your arm and finally handing you into the apartment.
It was dark and cold, and you shivered, feeling his body pushed in right behind yours, closing the door before he felt around for the light switch.
When the lights turned on, you blinked, adjusting to the light again as he walked you further into the apartment, hands on your hips as you slowly stumbled forward.
“Can you take the handcuffs off now?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.
“And let you touch my things? No.”
You shook off his hands and walked further into the room.
“You know I can still mess with your stuff with my hands tied up like this,” you said, walking to the nearest bookshelf.
“Whoops, look at that,” you said, pulling a book off the shelf and letting it fall to the floor between you with a thud.
“Y/N!” He exclaimed, voice pitched up in exasperation.
“Oh, this stack of books on the ground looks well organized. Oopsie!” You acted out tripping over the books, sending them flying in different directions.
“One more time, Y/N, mess with my stuff one more time-”
You didn't hear the words as you pulled yet another book off his shelf and let it tumble to the ground.
He was on you in seconds, lifting your wrists and pinning them to the top shelf, pressing his body against yours as he stretched you out.
You gasped at both the sudden contact and the tight grip he now had on your hands.
“Tell me, do you actually want to be in control, or do you just think you should want to be in control?”
“What's the difference?”
“The difference is how much you enjoy it. I think you're only being a brat to get a rise out of me. You're doing this because there's no one else in your life that will give you exactly what you crave."
"And what would that be?"
"Attention," he whispered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
“Great, thanks for the therapy. Are you going to show me how much I can enjoy relinquishing control now?”
“Brat,” he spat at you.
“Fed,” you spat back.
“You have a problem with law enforcement?” He asked, his breath hitting your ear as you tried not to shiver again at his touch.
“My neighbour was a serial killer whose day job was police brutality," you said, as if the answer was obvious, but Spencer still stared, waiting for true confirmation.
“Yes I have a problem with law enforcement. What, are you going to spank me?”
His eyes lit up, and you suddenly wondered if you'd made a mistake.
“You'd like that, wouldn't you?”
“N-No.” You stuttered, but he'd already begun moving you over to his couch.
“It was a joke. Spencer, it was a joke, don't-”
You underestimated his strength as he flipped you around and guided you down over his lap. Keeping your hips raised, he used one hand to hold you down while the other pushed up your tight skirt.
“S-Spencer, I really don't think-”
“Then don't think,” he said, bringing his hand down hard on your ass as you cried out in shock and pain.
“Stop thinking. You think too much, let me do it for you.”
With each hit, your shock grew fuzzy, melting into pleasure as you felt wetness pooling between your thighs.
The doctor you thought would be an easy target was not sadistically returning every teasing word back to you with his hands, letting bruises blossom all over your ass as he delivered painfully arousing strikes.
His hand stopped and he rubbed your ass as you twitched at the gentleness, panties sticking to the folds of your cunt as you absent mindedly pushed up into his touch.
“See, now you're listening,” he said, fingers trailing down to touch you over the sopping undergarments.
With two quick fingers, the crotch of your panties peeled away from your skin and he was plunged deep inside you, fingers pressing in as his thumb found its way to your clit.
“Fuck, Spencer-”
“Doctor Reid. You can use my full title now or you don't get to cum.”
“D-Doctor Reid, please!” His thumb rubbed slowly over your clit bit his fingers didn't move as you shuddered and contracted around them.
“Please what?” He asked, voice light as if he wasn't two knuckles deep in you already.
“Please make me cum, Doctor Reid!”
“Good manners,” he said as he finally began pumping his digits in and out of you, spreading your legs wider as you clawed your hands into his couch cushions to ground yourself in the moment. His spare hands left your wrists, and you felt them again, delivering small, almost cute hits to your ass as you twitched around his fingers, shying away from the painful contact.
“That's it, Y/N, let yourself relax,” he whispered, shifting his weight underneath you as you became aware of the tent in his pants.
Your brain was jello as you tried to bounce back on his fingers, chasing your oncoming orgasm.
“Look at you, trying to cum on my hands. You're just an attention-seeking slut, right?”
His fingers continued ppimg as your tongue hung loosely in your mouth.
“Answer me, or I'll leave you here high and dry, Y/N. Tell me you're an attention seeking slut that's been fingering yourself to the thought of this for weeks.”
“I-I'm an a-atten…tion seeking s-slut,” you stifled a moan and bit back tears as he pressed another finger inside of you. “Spencer I can't I need to cum,” you cried, tears spilling down your cheeks pathetically.
“Say it.”
“I'm an attention seeking s-slut that's been th-thinking about this-”
“Fingering yourself,” he corrected.
“Fingering myself to the thought of this for w-weeks,” you cried, sniffing now as your thighs shook in anticipation.
“What a nasty little slut,” he said as you finally came, your cum running down his fingers as he kept his hands moving.
Your tears were falling freely now as you bit back little sobs and chokes of emotions, the pleasure from the orgasm almost too much to handle.
Underneath you, Spencer shifted, freeing himself from his position and laying you fully down on the sofa as your legs still shook.
“There once was a doctor called Reid,” he said, unzipping his pants as he took up his place behind you.
They were your words, and your body signalled warnings everywhere as his hands pulled your hips up once more, pulling your knees up too to bend under you, laying you face down ass up.
“Who I simply and truly just need.”
He pulled the panties down to the crook of your knees before leaning down over you so he could deliver the next few lines as whispers into your ear.
“I would lie on my back, And then let him attack, Any inch of my body with his seed.”
A weak moan escaped your lips as he sank his cock inside of you, lips still pressed against your ears.
“I don't want you on your back, though. I much prefer you like this.”
His cock slid out of you and returned with a speed and strength that had your eyes rolling back in your head.
He was thick, maybe a little longer than average, and he filled you perfectly using your cum as lubricant.
“Such a good listener, now, Y/N. I like you like this,” he said with a moan, thrusting hard and deep inside of you.
You didn't talk. You could only drool and moan into his couch as he emptied your brain one thrust at a time.
You didn't think about how he wasn't wearing a condom. You didn't think about how he'd spat your words back at you, ready to fill you with his seed. You just sat in a pool of your own pleasure and let Spencer Reid use your body as you'd been begging him to for weeks.
He raised your hips and gave one last thrust, stilling there for a second as he filled your empty body and mind with his cum and his entire being.
If you weren't obsessed with Doctor Spencer Reid before this, you certainly were now.
He pulled out of you quickly, wiping his cock on your skirt before hurrying off to the bathroom to clean up.
Your brain was still absent when he returned, cleaning you off and finally removing the handcuffs. He removed your clothes, replacing them with his spares as he threw the soiled ones into the wash.
When you regained your wits or what was left of them, you were laid out in his bed, wrapped in a blanket and stuffed into a sweater and sweats, fully covered from head to toe. Spencer was picking up his keys and trying his shoelaces.
“Where are you going?’ You asked sleepily, stumbling to the doorway. Your legs were still shaky, and your movement was already limited. You knew that tomorrow, the use of your limbs would be nonexistent.
“Back to the office. Now that you're not around, maybe I'll be able to get some actual work done.”
“Spencer,” you said, forcing him to turn around to look back at you.
Before he could say anything else, you pressed your lips to his, hot and needy, wrapping your arms around his neck as he kissed back, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressed you into the wall next to the door.
When you both pulled away for breath, you detangled your limbs, smoothing out his shirt and readjusting his tie.
He looked down at you, waiting for you to say something else as you met his gaze, grinning at him.
“I look forward to working with you, Doctor Reid.”
439 notes · View notes
sturnmaee · 1 day
Text
ᡣ𐭩 Make It Up
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
tags: bf!matt x fem!reader
warnings: smut, fem receiving, p in v, oral, use of baby, i lowkey forgot how to fucking tag .
summary: you and matt get in a fight so he decides to make it up to you ;)
word count: 1,250 (ish) words .
more under the cut
quick little a/n: i hope this is okay! i have been trying to write for so long — literal MONTHS — i’ve just been so unmotivated and busy!! i love you all so much. i was high asf while proofreading this omg.. i hope it’s not all bad .
The silence was deafening. Matt and I had just gotten into another pointless disagreement that left us both feeling shitty. All couples have their ups and downs sure, but Matt and I were arguing almost everyday now.
I don't blame him, he's been so caught up with his brothers and filming endlessly while I've been pent up in our small home.
The cold air hugs me tight as we sit on opposite sides of the couch, minding our business, neither of us daring to say a word. With the atmosphere being so quiet the sounds of a buzzing fridge fills my ear. Matt stares quietly at his phone trying to act preoccupied as I sit hugging myself and watching my own. I can see him in the corner of my eye wanting to say something, his mouth slightly moving.
"I," he says croakily before clearing his throat, "I'm sorry baby." he says his tone coated in guilt and regret.
I ignore him at first, before staring back at him with glossy doe eyes, a small, sad smile spreads across my face before I scoot closer to him on the couch. He stretches his right arm out inviting me into his chest.
As I lay my head on his warm chest he places a soft, loving kiss on my forehead, fixing my stray hairs with his gentle fingers, his other free hand making it's way shyly to my hip. I stare up at him as he watches down on me, my hand resting on his chest as my leg presses up against his lap.
"Let's not fight anymore," I whisper softly, "please."
"I promise, pretty girl." He replies in a reassuring, soothing voice, while stroking my hip before sneaking his hand under my shirt.
A trail of goosebumps follows the patterns of his fingertips on my skin, my hand cupping his stubble covered jaw as he takes my lips in passionately.
Matt pulls away with puffy lips before taking me in with his deep blue eyes, clouded with lust.
"Mmh, let me make it up to you." he says with an intoxicating voice before sinking back down on the couch to nip at the freckle on my neck.
He pulls away once again as I nod my head in response, the corners of his plump lips turning upwards. He holds my waist tight while fixing my position as he hops off the couch, kneeling down between my legs on the cold, wooden floor.
His fingertips toy with the material of my gray, baggy sweats, almost asking for permission,
“Is this okay baby?” he asks in the softest tone, his fingers hooked underneath my waist band.
I nod in response. The small gesture excites Matt and he tugs at my pants, pulling them down with my underwear, tossing them carelessly into a sad pile in the corner of the living room. My soft thighs now exposed as Matt takes in my legs with his lustful eyes.
He plants his warm hands on my thighs and he moves closer to my pulsing core. His tongue licks a long stripe up my slick while he holds eye contact, his fluffy hair sitting perfectly out of place. I gasp at his touch and my hand trails down to his hair, lightly tugging at it in response.
“Fuck Matt.” I moan softly while tipping my head back in pleasure.
He works his mouth at my sensitive clit, sucking, nipping, and licking so perfectly as he hums against me sending waves of sensation through my veins. One of his hands leaves my thigh, making its way closer to my wet pussy, he drags his slender fingers through my heat before pushing two fingers in softly.
His fingers curl perfectly inside of me, reaching places I never could on my own. I tighten my grip on his long hair as moans and mumbles spill from my lips, Matt continues to penetrate my walls and my swollen clit.
My legs shake, constricting around his head and he laughs against my pussy.
“Already close?” He says with fake sympathy while staring up at me with puffy, wet lips.
“Mmh s-so close.” I barely manage to reply with a full sentence, my back arching at the stimulation.
Matt moves away from my throbbing pussy, bringing his face closer to mine, my chest rising and falling rapidly as he presses the tent in his rough jeans against my burning clit. He hovers his lips over mine, breathing lightly.
"You taste so fuckin' good, baby." He groans against my lips before sinking into them, a light tang hitting my lips as his tongue explores my mouth.
"Matt.." I say softly, my tone drenched in lust and neediness.
My hands grips his belt, fiddling with it as i struggle to undo it. Matt laughs softly before standing up, swiftly undoing his belt and ripping it quickly out of the loops on his jeans, he tosses it to the pile of my clothes before kicking his jeans and boxers off.
"This what you want, hmm sweet girl?" He teases in a deep voice, his tip leaky and red, begging for touch. His hands make their way to the hem of my tee before ripping it over my head.
His eyes take in my bare chest, a smirk growing on his face.
"Such a bad girl, wearing nothing underneath just for me?" He says while positioning his tip at my entrance, his hand leading it through the puddle in core.
He pushes his length in, stretching me out immediately, letting a low moan out as he holds my hips supporting me, pulling me down onto his throbbing cock.
I let out a string of curses while moaning softly, my hands gripping the couch cushion for support. Matt picks up his pace, his thighs hitting mine as he penetrates my core. He lets out a quiet whimper, he icy blue eyes locked onto mine.
His hands grip my skin, tight enough to leave marks as he pushes deep inside of me. Matt lowers his head to meet mine his breath warm against my ear,
“I want you to cum for me baby,” he grunts, “leave a mess all over me.”
His words are ecstasy in my ear, he leaves a harsh kiss at my neck, my nails digging into his back as I feel myself getting closer.
“Oh God Matt.” I moan loudly.
Matt’s thrusts become sloppier, and I feel my orgasm creeping closer. My walls clamp down on his twitching cock the same way my fingers cling onto his bicep. Our moans and the sound of skin slapping bounces around the quiet room that now smells of sex.
I grip Matt tightly as my orgasm collapses over me, he thrusts harshly before spilling his warm cum into my walls.
“F-fuck.” He stutters though his gritted teeth before collapsing on top of me, my body jerking at the pleasure washing over me.
Matt kisses my lips softly while slowly pulling out and lying on the couch next to me, pulling the stray blanket over our sweaty bodies. He drags his fingers through the mixture of cum and saliva leaking from and pushes it into me, making me shake.
“No more fighting,” Matt says quietly, holding me tight, “I love you too much for that stupid shit.”
I giggle softly at his words while burying myself in his exposed chest, pressing a small kiss on his pale skin. I nod lightly, wrapping my leg around him and he squeezes me tightly.
this is actually the worst i’ve ever written 💀 i’m just tryna get back into write so bare wit me
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diazsdimples · 1 day
Note
Buddie "wish I could carry you in my pocket"
"Wish I could carry you around in my pocket," Buck sighs as he gazes lovingly at Eddie sitting on the kitchen table. He's just a little too short for his legs to touch the ground, so he's got his ankles hooked together as he swings his legs back and forth. That, plus the oversized hoodie he's wearing have the effect of making him look like an overgrown toddler and Buck thinks he is simply adorable.
The minute the words leave his lips, Buck has an idea. A year or so ago, Buck had been messing around with one of Maddie's old spellbooks when he'd come across a Shrinking Spell. Thinking it would be useful if he ever needed to pull someone out of a mound of rubble or remove a crush, Buck had learned the spell, accidentally shrinking Maddie's laptop before figured out the reversing spell and had put it to right.
"Hmm?" Eddie says, lifting his eyes ever so slightly from the cookbook he's studying. "What was that, baby?"
Buck rolls up his sleeves and flexes his fingers a little. "Oh nothing, don't mind me." He clicks his fingers and looks pleased as a small shower of blue sparks rain onto the hardwood floors. There's a very faint smell of sea salt, but hopefully not enough for Eddie to notice. "Hold still."
"Wha-?"
Eddie barely has a moment to register Buck's words before Buck does a series of complicated wiggles with his fingers, mutters "Parvus" under his breath, and Eddie is suddenly shrouded in a cloud of royal blue energy. The room is suddenly filled with the scent of the ocean, as if Buck has suddenly stepped out onto Santa Monica beach.
When the cloud clears Eddie is nowhere to be seen, and Buck's heart is instantly in his throat.
"Eddie?" he calls out, walking towards the table where his boyfriend had been perched moments earlier. "Eddie are you still here?"
I've fucking disappeared my boyfriend, Buck thinks in a moment's panic. He hadn't read anything in the fine print about performing the spell on performing it on human subjects, and he's also not sure how to control the size of the thing he's transforming. There is a very real possibility that he's shrunk Eddie to the size of a dust mite and will never be able to resize him again.
Why the fuck can't he use his brain before acting??
Just before Buck plummets into a proper panic attack, there's a small movement on the table, just behind the cookbook resting on the edge.
"Buck, what the fuck have you done to me?"
The voice is high pitched and quiet but unmistakably Eddie's, and it takes Buck a second to locate it. But there, dusting himself off and looking decidedly unimpressed, is the smallest Eddie Buck has ever seen in his life. He's about the size of Buck's forefinger and leans against the pages of the cookbook as he glares up at his boyfriend.
"Oh my god, you are so tiny!" Buck grins as he takes in Eddie in all his miniscule glory. "I can't believe that worked!"
Buck reaches out and picks Eddie up, his fingers pinching at the back of Eddie's hoodie, and he drops his boyfriend into the palm of his hand. Eddie wobbles unsteadily before gingerly lowering himself down so he's sitting on the edge of Buck's palm with his legs dangling over the edge, no dissimilar to how he was on the table. He crosses his arms across his chest and glares up at Buck. If he wasn't all of 3 inches tall, it would almost be intimidating
"Put me back," he demands, the authoritativeness of his tone lost entirely by the fact that he sounds like he's swallowed a tank of helium. "Put me back or so help me God-"
"Or what?" Buck giggles, "You'll crawl up my nose?"
"I'll squeeze inside your dickhole and cause permanent damage with my teeth and fists," Eddie counters with a huff.
"Don't threaten me with a good time, babe."
"Buck please, we've got a shift in 3 hours. Make me big again," Eddie pleads, and Buck's completely incapable of defying his boyfriend at the best of times, especially when he's perched perfectly in the palm of Buck's hands, looking so tiny and adorable and pleading silently with his big brown eyes.
Buck sighs and holds his palm adjacent to the table so Eddie can walk across it and take up position next to the cookbook.
"Can I at least try fitting you in my pocket?" he asks, giving Eddie his puppy eyes, but it seems Shrunk Eddie is immune to Buck's charms. He shakes his head vehemently, snapping his fingers so a ball of deep green energy appears in the palm of his hands. The mellow, woodsy scent of pine trees cuts through the saltiness of Buck's magic as Eddie juggles the energy ball between his hands.
"Try it, I dare you."
Knowing when he's beaten, Buck relents with a sigh. Buck may be the one that practices magic the most but Eddie comes from a long line of powerful sorcerers, and Buck has no trouble admitting that Eddie is the more skilled magician of the two of them. If Eddie wanted to, he could turn Buck into a cockroach in a matter of seconds.
"Magnus" he mutters, channelling a fraction of his energy towards Eddie, and there's another cloud of rich blue energy and Eddie reappears.
He shakes out his arms and hops off the table. "You have no idea how weird that was," he grimaces. "You looked like a giant!"
"Don't I always?" Buck teases, referencing his slight height advantage against Eddie which was a slight sore point in their relationship.
Eddie takes two steps forward so they're nose to nose, and is about to open his mouth to scold Buck before a look of surprise passes over his face.
"Huh!" he says, stepping back so he's able to look at Buck properly. A grin begins to spread over his face as he looks Buck up and down. "I think that spell made me taller!"
Buck balks. "Absolutely not, that's not possible," he says, shaking his head. "I'm the tall one!"
Eddie steps back into Buck's space and yep, he's definitely grown an inch or two. They're almost completely at eye level, with Eddie a fraction taller, if anything. Buck gulps. Maybe he shouldn't have played around with magic.
"No, baby, you're definitely shorter than me no," he grins, and he tilts Buck's chin up (up!!!) to kiss him. It's soft and sweet, their lips moving in tandem. Eddie's smiling into the kiss and Buck can feel the smugness radiating off him.
"I'll just have to shrink you again," he points out as they break apart, but Eddie merely grins and kisses Buck on the forehead.
"I'd like to see you try."
Send me a ship and a sentence and I'll finish it!!
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von2dutch · 15 hours
Text
Sugar Baby | Jey Uso
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Synopsis: Sex is not a big deal. ...You can have a no-strings-attached arrangement with someone you don’t care about.
Pairing: Jey uso X Black Fem reader | word count: 3.1k | warning: smut, toxic behavior , protected sex | 18+ ONLY
A/N This is my first time writing on here so bear with me I’m new to learning the app I hope you all enjoy it it’s also my first time writing a Jey uso fanfic so please go easy on me. A few writers inspired me to want to write about him I’m not sure if they want to be tagged I don’t want to seem disrespectful but if they do I’ll gladly @ them!
Lastly , Enjoy
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Dakota groaned in discomfort, "Ugh, jeez, I'm so sore, I can barely stand..." Jasmine chuckled in agreement, "Haha, I know right? I didn't expect that workout to be so intense.
“Me neither, my whole body is killing me right now…girl remind me to never come to the gym with your ass!” Dakota Murmured in a low breathing trying to regain her breath, her hands kneeled down on her knees taking each breath one at a time. Before standing tall grabbing her water to follow jasmine lead to the front desk.
“girl please all that ass you got you should want to be in shape for your old man sugar daddy.”
Dakota stopped in her tracks staring a hole into her best friend of 6 years in the head, with a mug plastered over her face she spoke again “Omg for the last time that man isn’t that old and he ain’t my sugar daddy!”
Jasmine looked back pursuing her lips together looking at her best friend like she was dumb “whatever you say ms.like em’ old.”
“But ion blame you because last time you came to me with your wig completely fucked up after seeing him, fuck he got super dick?”
Dakota chuckled at her best friends antics seemingly use to it but without jasmine in her life she wouldn’t have any entertainment without her silly jokes.
“No he just knows how to work this thang!” Dakota laughed before sticking her tongue out as the two walked up to the front desk.
While Dakota was focused on making another week ahead for the gym next week, Jasmine eyes were stuck on whoever just walked into the gym.
Jasmine Nuged Dakota shoulder before she turned around with a mug irritated already by her bothering her with Dakota already being tired and trained from an intense workout the two just had “Ain’t that your boy or should I say ol’ man.”
Dakota knitted her eyebrows together in confusion and also curiosity as she turned her body and attention to wherever jasmine focused was and there he was.
Jey Uso
In the flesh there he was looking ever so good , his presence so commanding and charismatic that she couldn't help but admire him with his twin brother Jimmy and a little behind them was their younger brother solo, walking. As they approached a group of men, it looked as if they beckoned them over with friendly gestures.
As Dakota glanced over at Joshua, she couldn't help but take notice of his impressive attire. He was sporting a pair of blue Nike shorts that hugged his body in all the right places, along with black Nike socks that were neatly tucked into his white gym shoes. On his head, he wore a fitted black bloodline hat, which was turned backwards and allowed his mullet to peek through the back. The red tips of his hair added a touch of boldness to his overall look, which suited him perfectly. As he stood there with his bare chest on display, his chiseled abs were impossible to miss. Tribal tattoos adorned his arms and chest, with two more visible on his back. All in all, Joshua's appearance was a sight to behold.
She watched as he greeted the three men before grasping both hands onto a pull up bar his palms facing away from him lifting his entire body going up and down up and down as she watched closely.
She couldn’t help but to stare at his bare back moving ever so smoothly, he hung his body up back and forth downwards she got a flashback from their last meet up two months ago which made her bite her lip titling her head slightly watching as he kept going.
Flashback
“Move yo hand this what you wanted right?” Jey responded to Dakota as she pleaded for him to slow down she tried to push him back away from her as he dicked her down so deep she could Hardly breathe.
she burried her head into the white colored sheets of the hotel room she couldn’t help but cry tears of joy but also pain as his strokes got deeper and deeper from behind “Jeyyyy…b-baby slow down…ugh.”
“Nah you talked all that shit on the phone, I wanna see you take all this dick don’t run from it.”
“Ion even know why you like to play with me princess, you know I’ll fly yo’ ass out to fuck you up.” Joshua spoke with Venom in his voice as his chest heaved up and down, chest beaming with sweat. he pushed a hand down on her neck to pin her down further her ass purked up nicely in his view.
It all started with Dakota missing him which resulted in her being a bitch towards Jey, calling him out his name as far as a “bitch” because he hadn’t been paying her no attention at all the past few weeks. She knew he had a tight schedule as a professional wrestler which has his undefined attention at all times but she also wanted his attention as well even with her just being a sugar baby known as a woman he just used for sex and entertainment when he wanted it.
Now here she was ass up face down and burried into the white sheets of his hotel room as he fucked her viciously from behind pining her down to the bed so she couldn’t run with no where to go. He wanted her to feel all of him from anger slightly misplaced with lust.
“Nah baby use this dick and fuck me back , daddy ain’t going no where.”
Dakota did as told throwing her ass back on him but with much more force while she occupied her fingers underneath her playing with herself. She felt so much pressure and pain all in one her feet became hot with them curled up as he went deeper with each stroke he took.
Taking her breath away literally.
“Mhm you taking this dick like a good girl huh?” Jey rasped slamming into her making Dakota let out a loud moan.
She could feel her body become hot as she felt a knot in her stomach indicating she was about to cum.
“shit!” She cursed under her breath, Jey thrusting into her wet gushy insides.
Joshua watched his dick slide in and out Dakota’s hole, her white creams painting his beautiful Carmel dick, his balls slapping against her clit with every hard thrust he took.
Dakota let out beautiful whimpers, her ass and titties jiggling with the rhythm of Jey’s hard strokes.
Jey grabbed Dakota’s hair, wrapping it around his fist as he thrusted into her harder.
Josh pulled on her hair, forcing her head up as she looked at herself through a the mirror which was in the corner of the room. Her make up smeared with tears , hair all over the place she knew she would need a redo on her hair when she got back home to Atlanta. Her mouth agape as she let out loud moans which couldn’t be heard outside of the hotel room from how thick and sound proof the walls were.
“Uh huh, daddy deep in his pussy ain’t he?” he questioned panting, his tattooed chest heaving up and down.
when Dakota didn’t answer Jey yanked her hair making Dakota let out a loud moan.
“shit! Y-yes daddy it’s fucking deep!” she cried out as tears cascaded her pretty Carmel cheeks.
Jey smiled deviously at her through the mirror, sliver jeweled grills peaking through. feeling her walls clench around him he groaned. he sent a hard snack to Dakota’s ass, “you throwing that ass back like a big girl , baby? You gon’ keep taking this dick like one too.”
Dakota did as told, her taking control again as she bounced back and forth on his length, Joshua bit his lip watching his dick disappear into her whole every time.
The one thing he missed the most was her ass jiggling from behind as he buried his dick deep inside her, her smooth toned back arched ever so slight but at the moment her chest laid flat on the bed while he continued his torture.
“fuck!” Dakota moaned with her face planted in the bed, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she continued rocking her body.
“Un huh, Baby take this dick.”
“you gotta cum, ma?” Jey questioned, grunting afterwards.
“yes!” Dakota whined reaching her hand underneath her and rubbing at her clit once more, her legs trembling outrageously.
Jey bit his lip harshly, blood drawing as he groaned at the metallic taste.
“gon head Dakota .” He rasped, on cue Dakota and Joshua reached their limits. Her white creams painted all over his dick, her juices squirted out of her and onto Jey’s lower stomach.
Flashback over
“Dakota!” Jasmine's voice echoed through Dakota’s empty ears as she called out to her best friend Dakota, who seemed lost in thought. "Dakota! Dakota, Dakota?!!" she repeated, her tone growing more urgent and annoyed with each call. She wondered what could be occupying Dakota's mind so much that she didn't even hear her friend's voice.
Then it hit her. Jey he was who had her so snapped out of it she watched her best friend bite her lip in daze a, watching him do repeated pull ups.
Finally After staring into the distance for a while, Dakota was brought back to reality when she heard someone calling her name. With a confused look on her face, she looked up and stuttered, "H-huh, what did you say, Jas?"
“I said there go ya’ boy and there he is right now making his way over.” Jasmine said as he indeed was making his way over to them while Dakota mouth hung low she tried her to best to maintain herself. She often felt nervous around Josh and she herself didn’t know why because she wasn’t a shy woman but with him? He had her shy like a school girl.
“Wassup jasmine.” Jey greeted Jasmine with a friendly head nod and a warm smile, before turning his attention to Dakota. With a mischievous grin and a wink “and hey pretty mama.”
With a mischievous grin, he knew exactly what to say to make her radiant smile light up the room. As he gazed at her, he couldn't help but notice the intricate details of her gym outfit, appreciating the way it hugged her curves and highlighted her strong physique.
She wore Black gymshark vital seamless neck sports bra with vital seamless black shorts that hugged her body waist down ever so gently which showed her ass out more flaw. Her breast glazed with sweat as it stucked together almost peeling out of the sports bra her nipples hard as ever from how cold the gym was. Accompanied with white socks and grey gym shoes.
She looked damn good.
“Hey Josh.” She smiled dimples ever so deep into her skin that her pearly white teeth showed all of her teeth from how big she smiled. Gushing with butterflies in her stomach if she was any lighter you could see how red her face was from blushing.
“Hey Josh.” Jasmine mumbled mimicking her with an eye roll immensely laughing at how shy her best friend was. In 27 years of knowing her she never saw her best friend so shy she was always a Fierce Woman, very outspoken. So to see her like this so gushed over this man was surprising and undoubtedly hilarious.
“Shut up.” Dakota mumbled gritting through her teeth while she tried to keep a smile on her face.
To break the awkward silence Josh spoke “Uhh so you leaving?”
“Oh yeah me and jasmine are finished for the day and go grab some food then head home and shower. I see you’re with your brother.”
“Yeah he wanted to come to the gym before the big night Monday.”
“Well it was nice seeing yo— nah we ain’t gon end it like that ma gimme me a hug uce.” Josh insisted opening his arms for a hug she embraced him her hands rubbing against his bare back.
His entire body felt so soft and warm along with his significant cologne he always wore that drove her crazy with how good he smelled.
Josh hands snaked down to her ass grabbing it gently with a soft smack before leaving a wet kiss on her neck before whispering. “You might wanna cover that up uce.” He chuckled at her eyes bucking at the embarrassment she felt when she realized he was referring to the hickey on her neck that her gave her last month.
Gasping she quickly covered it with her hand before grabbing Jasmines hand leading her out the door “Bye Josh!”
“Girllll that man got you whipped huh!” Jasmine joked laughing at how school girl he had Dakota before unlocking the doors to her Mercedes Benz truck both hopping in.
“Whatever.”
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• Instagram story
Dakota.Valentine • 25 secs ago
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“Bye Josh.” Dakota chuckled at a TikTok he sent her via message, before hearting it smiling ear from ear. It was a TikTok of a man buying his girlfriend chicken wings when she asked for wings as in pads for her menstrual cycle but he got her wingstop with jey replying with a “Gon be me when you come back over my house, yeet!”
“Oh you in love.” Jasmine affirmed looking at her best friend blush at her phone something she did their whole lunch.
“I am not!”
“Is too!”
Dakota fixed her posture in her seat now facing jasmine directly placing her phone face down on the table giving her undefined attention “and what makes you possible think that?”
“Hmm well for starters the man bough you a mirror vanity with a Chanel purse and a basket of fruit all because you said you wanted to show yourself this year and do beauty content for social media.”
“Then he buys you roses every month even if he misses a few days he buys dozens for each day he missed along with a stack of money, he as well spoils you with gifts, paid for you to go to talum for your birthday, bought you a ring and also rented out a mall for the both of you so you could shop dedicating the whole day to you with a massage, paid for your hair , nails, AND makes sure you eat paying for every meal plus he took you on how many dates?”
“Shall I go on?”
Dakota sat there taking in everything her best friend was saying with nothing to deflect with, she was right Joshua did all those things without her having to asking for anything he just did it because whatever he saw that he thought would look good on her or what made her smile the biggest he got it.
“Then you cook for him everytime he’s in town for his Monday night raw and smack down shows in Atl kota.” Jasmine stated pursing her lips together while she waited for a response. Dakota sat there with a dumbfounded expression.
Thats when realization sat in she realized she was in love, he did so many things for her that she never had done before not even in past relationship. He was there for her in so many ways than just sex, he was there emotionally, physically , and mentally. He cared deeply for Dakota as much as she cared for him. They’ve Had deep conversations about life and marriage something neither ever done with anyone they connected on a deeper level than Just sex he was there for her when she lost her mother a few months back and ever since then he never left her side he was always there.
Despite his best efforts to hide it, Joshua was undeniably smitten with Dakota. Though he was a more mature and experienced man, he couldn't help but pour his heart out to her, showering her with a level of affection she had never before experienced in her life. His love for her was pure and genuine, and she could sense it in every little thing he did.
Despite her best efforts to be difficult and toxic, he always handled her with care and honesty. He was the type of man who never played games, especially when it came to business. He led with authority, yet he had a soft and gentle side. He was dominant without being aggressive but real smooth but you knew he ran shit. His charismatic and funny personality, his loving nature, and his hardworking aura made her focus on him completely. Whenever she was around him, she felt safe and comfortable, knowing that he would always be there to protect and support her.
In past relationships Dakota had never felt safe nor comfortable with men but with Josh it all felt so natural.
The two meet at a bar in Pensacola , Florida where Dakota was in town visiting a client of hers for styling. She was a celebrity stylist, she loved fashion and always dreamed of being a fashion designer or stylist. While she sat at the bar alone josh couldn’t help but stare at the young women, her soft brown legs shined with baby oil along with a black dress that hugged her body so tightly and well , a face a man would die for but he thought her face was better to nut on in his dirty mind.
He walked up to her with a few smooth and flirtatious words which pulled her in instantly jey was always smooth with the ladies. A ladies man of course. With that he prospered to her a deal that he spoiled her of course as well as have sex with her but no string attached as well kinda friends with benefits or a sugar daddy which he wouldn’t call it more so tricking with sex alongside.
Jey was 32 years old and Dakota was four years younger than him at 27. Despite the age difference, the two were still deeply attracted to each other. However, when Dakota was first presented with the proposal that she didn't quite understand or want to accept, she hesitated. The idea of doing something like that was foreign to her, but a little voice in her head, which she recognized as Jasmine's, urged her to "get that money, bitch!" Despite already having her own source of income, Dakota eventually agreed to the proposal.
Starting from the summer of July 2022, the two individuals became inseparable. Their bond grew stronger as they spent time together, and before they knew it, January 2023 had arrived, marking the beginning of a new year that they brought in together. Despite the initial plan to spend only three months together, Josh kept extending their time together, much to the surprise of his companion. She found it odd that he was reluctant to part ways and kept prolonging their time together, but she couldn't help but wonder why.
Was he also in love?
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All I really want to say my darling
Today is a special day we call our own
So take me in your arms and hold me
And tell me you love me
And I'll be there for you
The soft lyrics of Tony! Toni! Tone! Played throughout Dakotas high rise apartment while she finished up on the last touch’s of the cornbread. Dakota was cooking baked macaroni, yams, collard greens, fire chicken with a side of duffeled eggs.
A loud thud on the counter went off as her phone ding with a text message from Jey.
iMessage
Yeet master jey!❤️
I’m here come open the door lady uce!
After meticulously washing her hands, she swiftly dried them off to ensure there were no traces of germs left on her skin. As she reached the door, she saw Josh standing outside, holding a beautiful bouquet of roses in his left hand. A wide smile appeared on her face as she approached him, and he opened his arms, inviting her in for a warm embrace. "Jey, I missed you!" she exclaimed before jumping into his arms. He caught her effortlessly with just one arm, and the two of them burst into uncontrollable laughter, filled with joy and happiness as they held each other tightly.
“I missed you too ko.” Dakota heart warmed at the small nickname he gave her.
“Aww are these for me?” She smiled widely taking the rose from jey she walked towards the kitchen sitting them on the counter. “Of course gotta get my princess something.”
Cheesing to herself she inquired him with a question “Mmhm when were you going to tell me you was in town?”
“Well I was tryna surprise you but I saw you all at the gym looking gorgeous.” He stated wrapping his arms around Dakota from behind he moved her hair out her face leaving a few wet on her neck she responded with a low moan.
“Unt unt let me finish cooking Josh.” She chuckled at his antics of trying to seduce her but she had other plans in mind.
Stepping back with his hands in surrender he spoke “alright alright but how you been? You’ve been eating?” He caressed her cheek staring into her brown hazel nut eyes. “Yes jey I have.”
“You better.” He pecked her lips a few times before moving back looking over her admiring her body.
Dakota has fell into small depression she thought maybe she was too big and wanted to be slimmer so she stopped eating to lose weight and also in the gym but Jey put a stop to that immediately because she was perfect the way she was and she wouldn’t want her any other way.
“I missed you.” Jey spoke with their soft eyes looking directly At Dakota.
“I missed you more.” She responded softly turning her body to face him.
“Missed you so much girl.” He embraced her into a hug, hugging tight as he wrapped his legs around her like spider man hanging his feet in the cabinet while she laughed at his goofy self “It’s all you girl!”
“All you girl!”
“Omg Joshua what is wrong with you.” Dakota laughed once more her stomach hurting from much she laughed her cheeks sore a bit from how hard she smiled. She was in love.
Letting her go he left a few kisses all over her face till she laughed Again before asking her something “So umm…I got a show tomorrow and I want you come.” He asked shyly as if it was the first time he ever took her one of his shows to watch him to wrestle.
“Of course! I’d love to watch you beat some ass.” She smiled punching at his chest playfully.
“Good cause Jimmy been asking about you “where koko?”josh mimicked his twin brother Jonathan earring a small laugh from Dakota.
“Aww my good ol’ friend can’t wait to see him tomorrow.”
“Plus tomorrow is raw XXX tomorrow you know it’s gon be lit.” Smiles thinking about what was in store tomorrow for the fans which included the bloodline with Sami Zayn.
“Oh tell your little girlfriend stop messaging me I’ll hate to beat a bitch.” Dakota scolded Josh rolling her eyes.
Who?
“You know who”
As jey stood there in thought as if he was dumb he then realized who she was talking about “oh Chanel?” He said still acting clueless.
“Who the fuck else Joshua!” She raised her voice slightly removing his arms from around her.
Chanel was an old mistress of Jeys and he broke things off with her two months in but she couldn’t take him leaving her due to the contract ending so she stalked him and was a bitch to every new woman he used for sex and entertainment which was Dakota. It all started in September when Josh and Dakota where out at a restaurant having a few drinks and dinner when Chanel popped up on the two “Oh so this why you’ve been ignoring for this new bitch?!” Channel shouted in the restaurant cashing a scene.
Which escalated in her and Dakota having a back and forth because in all Dakota wasn’t fighting over no man especially not jey no matter how charming he was she wasn’t but the disrespect she took from Chanel wasn’t going to keep happening.
“Look I told you she ain’t my girl and plus ima handle it.” Jey reassured Dakota waving her off.
“You better because I’ll hate to gut a bitch eyes out. Keep fucking with m— What I say?” He cut her off glaring at her with dominance.
“Okay I heard you.” She pouted “but you better handle it cause I don’t have time.” She sighed wrapping her arms around her chest.
Pulling her into an embrace he wrapped his arms around her body rubbing up and down her sides soft and smoothly. “I said I got Dakota don’t worry okay?”
“Okay.”
For a while there was some silence the only thing that could be heard was the music being played from her speaker that was a till she broke the silence with a question “can I ask you something?”
“Yeah , go ahead.”
Dakota started to think back on what Jasmine said was she in love with Josh? Was he in love with her? The question lingered in her mind so much she needed to to know. Even with them not supposed to falling eachother because of the agreement of no strings attached she couldn’t help but fall for him.
“Do your ever….think maybe we could be a couple?” She questioned with pleading eyes but also wanting honesty with anything he threw at her.
Jey thought long and hard for a min before giving her an answer “Honestly no, I mean you’re a gorgeous and talented woman but Dakota we both know this isn’t what we agreed to no strings attached and after a divorce I went through a year ago I ain’t ready for another relationship.”
“You’re just another one of my clients.”
Everything hit her deep in the heart like someone stabbed after hearing those words everything shattered for her. What was she thinking? She didn’t know she even thought he would ever slow down things for her just because he had sex with her but she had hoped
Maybe she wasn’t in love.
To be continued.
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I hope you all enjoyed this! More to come let me know if you want chapter two of this series? Also leave comments.
Opinions on jey, Dakota, jasmine , or even Chanel?
How we thinking about the relationship of Jey and Dakota will they fall for each other in the long run?
Lmk and again thank you for reading I hope you all enjoyed! Excuse any mistakes please till next!🎀
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brabblesblog · 16 hours
Text
𝕽𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖒𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖞𝖊 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘.
Ch 13: …because I am my husband's life as fully as he is mine.
A sequel to Whither is thy beloved gone? (AO3)
After the events of ‘Whither is thy beloved gone?’ Lord Astarion Ancuńin and his consort wife navigate their relationship anew. The ghosts of the past - his, hers, and theirs - threaten to unravel everything they’ve worked for.
The special day arrives.
Professionally edited by @editing-by-night
Read on AO3.
Masterlist
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Art by @lirotation
Ban stared at the gowns laid before her. There were three, in contrast to Astarion’s four suits. He’d hired several painters to sketch out portraits, some in the days before the event and some on the day itself. Today.
The maid braiding her hair tugged at a strand a little too tightly, but she barely noticed. On the opposite end of the room, Gale entered.
”Ah. Ban.” He nodded. “Just picking up the suits.” He reached for them, hanging from a coatstand near the doorway, but had to pause to shove away the silver-curl-topped head that threatened to poke through the door. “No peeking, Astarion! Don’t make me put up wards!”
Ban stifled a laugh as she heard a low growl, a chuckle, and then the sound of steps stalking away.
”He’s impatient,” Gale grinned, finally gathering all four ensembles in his arms. “But you already knew that.”
”You’d think he wouldn’t be, considering we’ve seen each other in these outfits before.” She remembered posing for portraits, having to hold poses stiffly - not a new occurrence, but they’d worn these outfits for them. It had felt… odd, seeing herself in wedding finery, white silks and embroidered fabrics. She was more comfortable with wearing more extravagant clothing now, but some of these outfits were well beyond what she was accustomed to. She’d imagined marrying someone, of course, but she’d figured it would be one of her father’s arranged events - a son of some fellow merchant or someone of import. Never had she considered it would be someone she’d actually love.
Not until the nautiloid, she supposed. She brought the old fantasy to mind.
Astarion in a crisp white suit, the color matching his hair. He’d smile at her, waiting for her as she walked down the aisle. The sun would shine on both of them somehow, but the tadpole would be gone - how this would be possible, she’d never thought to consider. He’d beam, his fangs making an appearance as she approached, and he’d offer her his hand, which she would take. She would be the happiest woman in Faerûn.
Another tug on her hair, and Ban sighed, opening her eyes. Their wedding would be at sunset, which meant a whole day of not seeing each other. The last time they hadn’t been glued to each other’s side was - she brushed the thought away.
Irrelevant. It will never happen again.
She instead allowed her eyes to gaze into the mirror, watching herself. She was still in her silken robe, a rich royal purple, but her eyes were locked onto her own. Still black, miraculously. Still her. She absently opened her mouth, a finger pulling her lip up to see her fangs for the first time. They weren’t anything impressive, and she sighed, letting go of her lip.
The maid doing her braids looked at her in the mirror. “You are still lovely, madam. Even if you are…” she trailed off.
Ban chuckled nervously. “I never was. But thank you.”
“That most certainly isn’t what our lord thinks,” the maid said amusedly. She resumed her work and left Ban to ponder her words.
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Gale walked in to find Astarion preening in front of a mirror, styling his hair. He wordlessly hung the suits one by one. The to-be-groom seemed perfectly level, fingers carefully raking through and arranging the silver curls into their usual perfectly-coiffed style, but Gale could see the slight tremor in his hand.
“How is she doing?” His eyes remained fixed on his reflection, his voice calm with only the faintest tremble. “I need to remind her to clasp the back of her cape properly, else the whole thing hangs off-center. There are six buttons she has to do; three on each side. One of them is rather tricky - the holes are hidden in-”
“She is perfectly fine. Her maids will attend to her clothes. There’s no need to be concerned about a malfunction.” Gale waved him off dismissively, and Astarion sighed.
“Fine. Do you have the rings, at least?”
Gale patted his pocket. “Of course.”
“Be a dear and don’t lose them.”
Gale noted the irritability, but the nervousness behind Astarion’s tone was obvious. “I’ll try not to. If I do misplace them, however, don’t drink me dry, please?”
At Astarion’s irritated huff, Gale laughed and left him with a final quip of, “Don’t fiddle with your hair too much, Astarion, she may change her mind if she sees you with frizz. Positively hideous.”
They were both laughing as Gale exited, closing the door behind him.
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They met in the gardens.
She walked down the small steps to see a figure in white, hair shining in the dying light of the sun. He was fidgeting with the buttons on his cuffs, huffing as he struggled to fit the buttons into the holes.
He was turned away from her, and did not notice her approach.
“Astarion?”
Her voice startled him, and he turned to face her. He swallowed anxiously, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
”Ban. Do you mind-” He held his sleeve up.
She approached him, taking his hand carefully and began to fit the buttons through. As she did she eyed him, meeting his gaze. He offered her a quick smile.
”Thank you.” He drew her close, hands settling around her waist to tug her to him. “I missed you.”
”It’s been…” she frowned, “less than eight hours since we last saw one another.”
”Doesn’t mean I can’t pine for my wife, does it?” He buried his face in the crook of her neck and exhaled, a long, drawn-out release of air that told her all she needed to know. “Even a minute of your absence is excruciating.”
She placed her hands on his back, rubbing gently. “You weren’t missing me. You’re nervous.” He raised his head, eyes narrowed. “Which is perfectly fine,” Ban added quickly before he could get a word in edgewise.
His brows smoothed out and he acknowledged her words with a stiff nod. “That does not mean both could not be true.”
”I guess you’re right.” She gently placed a hand on his cheek, watching the tension melt from his features as he leaned into the touch. “Any second thoughts? You still have time to say no, you know.”
“Of course not.” He scoffed, eyebrows knitting back together. “I disappear for a few hours, and you fill your head with the silliest of notions. Which of us can’t manage mere hours without the other, hm?”
”It was a joke.” She pecked his cheek.
His shoulders sagged and his features softened. “I am aware. It’s simply… difficult, comprehending being…” he threw both hands up, gesturing at them and the garden around them, “here. I never allowed myself the luxury of thinking of having a future at all - let alone this one.”
“Even during our adventuring days?”
Astarion pursed his lips, pensive. “At the start I assumed we would all part ways, or die.”
“Astarion,” Ban frowned, “we were seeing each other!”
“And I thought I was using you,” he answered without hesitating. “Later on there was the threat of Cazador and the Absolute, not to mention the rite itself. I did not have room to consider what life would be past those events.” He frowned and his eyes flicked away. “We’re both painfully aware of what happened after that, of course.”
“My love,” she murmured, the sobriquet slipping from her lips; she realized she never really used them, almost never outside sex. His eyes met hers, widening in surprise and then joy, and quietly chastised herself for not using them more. “I know. We both know. We’re also past that.”
He exhaled. “I am aware.” She could tell he was still tense, whether it be because of the mention of those six months, or the wedding itself. She placed a hand over his breast, felt the hammering there, and sighed.
Leaning forward, and on tiptoes, she kissed his cheek. “Look at me?”
He did so, a chagrined smile on his face. He dipped his head. “Just… nervous.”
“It’ll be fine. Nothing will change. It’s just a ceremony, a soiree, like any other, and that’s all it is. Paperwork. It doesn’t have to matter if you don’t want it to. If that helps calm your nerves.”
Astarion scanned her face, then shook his head. “I appreciate the sentiment, but we both know this isn’t mere theatrics to me. I refuse to belittle it that way.” He took a small, aborted breath. “So little of my life has meant anything. Let this mean something, Ban. Let me be nervous and excited. Let me feel this, because it means everything to me.”
His mind touched hers, disparate thoughts flitting through. Redemption, finally. Joy, that he had been chosen by her, wanted by her. Worthy to be the one waiting as she walked down the aisle. Worthy of being the man she’d bind herself to. Enough.
She smiled, her thumb tracing his cheekbone. “Of course it means something, and of course I want you to feel it as I do. I merely meant, well. If that sort of thinking would help ease your nerves, then it might be useful.” He leaned into her touch, eyes shuttering as his shoulders finally lowered. She drew in close, pressing their foreheads together; she on tiptoes and him bending down to accommodate her.
He exhaled, the warm air rushing over her face. She saw his lips part and kept her peace, waiting for him to speak.
“Thank you,” he finally mouthed, eyes still firmly shut. The hammering beneath her palm quieted some, and she pressed her lips to his.
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There were flowers everywhere. Roses of every shade adorned each side of the aisle. The archway that they would stand under was just as she’d envisioned. She had known how it would look, had arranged everything with the florists, but seeing it all in its full glory as she peeked through a window sent a thrill down her spine.
Everyone she knew and loved was there, mingling as they prepared to take their seats - everyone save one. He was sequestered away, just as she was, in preparation for the ceremony. She caught a quick glimpse of Karlach fidgeting with her dress and Halsin looking uncomfortable in an old suit.
There was a knock at the door. She called out to an invitation to come in and it opened, revealing Wyll.
“The blushing bride.” He held out his arms and Ban stood for a tight hug.
As Wyll pulled away she looked out at the crowd, watching as they began to take their seats. “Who knew, hm?”
He stood beside her, crossing his arms. “Who knew, indeed.” He caught her gaze and offered a smile. “Shadowheart filled us in on everything that happened. A lot passes you by when you’re stuck in Avernus.”
“I don’t doubt that. Have you talked to Astarion?”
“A little, this morning.” Wyll ran a hand over a horn. “He seemed glad that I approached him, but his mind was elsewhere. I don’t blame him.”
“He’s happy you’re all here,” Ban offered. “I’m happy. I didn’t think I’d get to see you two again after the reunion.”
“In much happier circumstances, too,” he nodded. “We’re glad to be here. Perhaps the next wedding will be ours.”
Ban blinked twice. “Does Karlach know?”
He shook his head. “It won’t be anytime soon, but closer than she and everyone else thinks. I figure with our lives being so full of danger, she might want some time to settle after we’ve fixed her heart.”
“Well, if you need anything,” she said, clapping his shoulder, “you can always ask me. Or Astarion, for that matter.”
Wyll offered her another shy smile. “I’ll go ahead. Tell everyone to prepare. Shadowheart will come for you when it’s time.”
She nodded and Wyll left, leaving her to her thoughts. Not that there were any other than the present, the seconds seeming to tick by extremely slowly. Her mind wandered aimlessly, refusing to focus on any one thing for very long in an attempt to avoid thinking of how nervous she was starting to feel.
Ban had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like mere seconds later when a bouquet was pressed onto her hands. Numerous people were suddenly checking her hair and makeup one last time and smoothing her dress into place. She took a nervous breath, keeping her eyes fixed upwards as she felt tears begin to pool. Crying would ruin the kohl.
“Take a deep breath.” Shadowheart’s hand on Ban’s shoulder startled her and she jerked, head snapping around to lock eyes with her friend.
“Is… Is it time?” Ban shuffled nervously, making sure to not step on the train of her gown.
“He’s waiting for you.” Shadowheart gathered most of the train, and they made their way out of the room. As they approached the main garden Ban swallowed; she could hear the music increasing in volume with every step.
She stopped in her tracks, Shadowheart almost tripping over the dress behind her. “I-” Ban turned to face her.
“This is it,” she choked out; tears filled her eyes and she blinked, trying to not let them fall. It shouldn’t matter, she told herself. It was a trite ceremony, and they were already eternally bound. She could think about the significance of it all later, when there were less eyes on her.
But she remembered his words, remembered him asking her to let it matter. She wanted to touch his mind, but they had agreed not to.
No cheating, he’d told her, after they’d had their final pre-wedding kiss earlier today. I want to feel it the way it was meant to be felt.
She’d understood what he meant. To experience it as if they were not vampires with a mental bond. As if they were just them.
Shadowheart approached her, carefully dabbing her tears away before they could spill. “We’ve faced worse, and you did it all fearlessly. You can do this.”
Ban nodded. “I know. I just…”
Feel it. She took one deep breath.
Shadowheart squeezed her hand one last time. “Walk as soon as your music starts.” She went ahead, taking her place next to Gale to walk down the aisle with him.
She stood there for a painful few minutes, hidden from view by a hedge. The music started, the song she’d picked for herself. Steeling her nerves, Ban took one last breath and walked to the aisle.
The setting sun hit her eyes first, blinding her for a moment. Her vision cleared and she saw the same roses, the same aisles, the same ivy-wrapped archway, but the seats were now full of people watching her. The music wasn’t quiet at all, but it was completely drowned out by her racing heart.
Her eyes locked onto that familiar glint of silver, the crimson of his eyes burning into her even from this distance. He had his hands clasped together, his face carefully neutral, shifting into an uncertain, boyish smile as their eyes met. Time froze. Nothing else mattered. Not Ulder standing by Astarion, not Gale holding the ring box in his hands. Not the music, nor the artists quickly sketching off to the side. Not the scent of roses or the blazing sunset. Not one other thing existed. Just him.
She took a step onto the red carpet. Then another. She could feel the slight drag of the train of her dress, requiring slightly more effort to place one foot in front of the other. She could feel the bite of the heeled shoes, a little tight, on her feet, and the subtle change in her posture to accommodate walking with an elevated heel. The feel of the satin ribbon holding the bouquet together contrasted with the rougher stems of the flowers it bound. The gown’s fabric slid against her body, shifting with every move.
Her mind registered all this, part of her begging to dwell on these trivial sensations, to hide behind her walls again.
We don’t cry. Not in public. Not like this. Not where everyone can see.
Her father’s words. Not hers.
Instead, she allowed herself to feel.
Every step brought her closer to the archway - to him. His smile was slightly wider now, but his eyes were wide and misty. She remembered everything - nights under the shelter of their tent, cuddled by the campfire, the soft press of his lips against her temple. Strong, slender fingers grasping her wrist, tugging her away from whatever trap she had missed in her rush. Those same capable hands undoing the straps of her breastplate, a small huff of annoyance as the armor snagged on her underclothes, tearing them, knowing those same hands would repair them later that same night. The scent of bergamot and rosemary, clinging to her clothes as they parted for the day, something she’d imagined she could still smell even under her armor. The sound of his voice, always the first one she sought out; his thoughts, his quips, even the playful little insults he’d throw her way.
Then more recently, their hands clasped in meetings, sly glances and hidden smirks as they mentally discussed the people they were making deals with. The press of his lithe body against hers as they twirled around the dance floor, leading her effortlessly. The heated kisses, his lips trailing a fiery path from her lips to her breasts, his hands tangled in hers. Breathless moans, whispered promises of eternal love - no longer only promises, but truth. Seeing his face every dawn, reaching across the bed and always finding him there, every time without fail, whether he was watching her or reading a book or sipping tea-
Astarion gave her a small, encouraging nod, and she smiled in return. The tears finally fell, wet as they traced a path down her cheeks, but she was beyond caring. She took a few more steps, bringing her closer to him - to her fate, to everything that had ever mattered and the only thing that ever truly would.
Hers. Hard-fought and almost lost, but hers now, for however long their immortal lives lasted - forever, she vowed, and even beyond.
She stopped. Faced him. He swallowed, his smile fading as he took a step towards her, his hand held out for hers. It was a gesture they’d made countless times, in countless ways - helping each other up in combat, in camp, at breakfasts and dinners and meetings and parties - but this felt like the first time. She placed her hand on his, feeling the skin under hers, smooth and trembling, but still the same. Always.
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They stood side by side as Ulder recited the rites. None of it was anything she’d remember, she thought. Her eyes were on him, from the perfectly coiffed hair to the slightly-trembling hands clasped behind his back, to the embroidery on his shoes. She reached out, and to her relief he noticed and responded in kind, even though his eyes never left Ulder. His index finger touched her first, gently tracing the back of her hand. His lips curled at the corner, his eyes crinkling even as his gaze remained ahead. Ban slipped her hand into his and felt him squeeze.
“Do you, Lord Astarion Ancunín, take this woman to be your wedded wife?”
For the first time since the ceremony began his eyes moved over her. They were large, wet, and painfully beautiful. He shot her a grin before turning back to Ulder. “I do.” The hand holding hers was cold, and she fought back the urge to reach over and rub warmth back into it.
The same question was leveled at her. She met Ulder’s gaze while he spoke, but made sure her eyes were locked on Astarion’s as she uttered her response. His shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly at her words, eyes flicking downwards for the briefest of seconds, then settling back on her face.
Then Gale approached, the rings kept in a small, ornate box. He opened the lid, offering it up to Astarion, who nimbly took her ring in his hands. He playfully bounced the ring on his knuckle, to the crowd’s delight, then looked at her.
“I am not prone to… long speeches, or poetry, for that matter,” Astarion began, the ring passing between his thumb and index finger as he fidgeted with it. “Nor am I the kind of person who usually appreciates public declarations of love. However, with you I could enjoy anything, and that includes this.”
His hand drifted down, patting his hip anxiously. “You probably weren’t the best leader, likely not even the best companion - I’d wager Wyll wins out over everyone in that regard.”
Ulder laughed; Ban glanced over at Wyll, who gave her a small wink. Astarion continued. “Back then… you tended to make frankly foolhardy decisions - thought with your blade rather than your brain… except when it came to me. With me…” he paused, thinking, “you seemed to think with your heart. Yet another foolish thing to be doing at such a time, darling, but I very much appreciated it.”
“I cared little for you at the start. In truth I didn’t know how to care for anyone, and certainly didn’t think anyone could care for me… despite my dashing good looks.” He huffed out a high-pitched laugh, one she hadn’t heard in what felt like forever. He grew somber then, and continued. “But I quickly grew to love you. I grew to treasure every single moment we spent together, from camping out in the wilderness to the most mundane arguments about which vase would match the drapes. We’ve already lived through a lifetime’s worth of tribulations in our time together, but look at us.” He gestured at her and then himself. “We held on to one another, through every challenge. We have worked so hard to be the people we are today. To seize this happiness for ourselves and for one another.”
He ran a hand through his hair, mussing the curls as his fingers carded through them. “And while there’s little doubt we’ll run into more trouble, because of course,” he rolled his eyes. “I do so knowing that you will be with me for all of it. Knowing that my every sunrise and sunset will be spent with you. Knowing that…” his breath caught, and Ban squeezed his hand. He swallowed. “that after two centuries… I am finally enough, the way that I am. Perhaps quite a bit more than enough at times, darling,” he chuckled.
Astarion straightened up. “But now that I am enough… I stand here today and I vow to love you forever. For the rest of time, even when the sun burns out and we give ourselves to the night. When we face whatever lies beyond - I vow to love you then too.”
His hand took hers, slipping the ring onto her finger. It did not meet much resistance, the cold metal settling in place easily. They both looked down at it, at how it seemed to belong there, as if it had always been there but just out of sight.
Gale’s movement brought her back to the moment. The box was held out to her, and she took Astarion’s ring. It was larger than hers, heavier, with a slightly thicker band, and with engraving identical to hers. She looked at him and saw the same hunger in his eyes as the day she’d asked him to marry her, that ravenous need clear in the set of his features.
“I wasn’t… born for this. Not for any of it. My life was supposed to be one of quiet subservience, to be what I was raised to be. I left that behind, and then I thought my life would be one of unassuming simplicity. Not… not these gardens. Not this palace, or the journey we all had. Not immortality. Not you.” She bit her lip, a fang catching on it. “I think we were both done a great favor the day the nautiloid took us. It brought me to you, and you to me.”
“The way fate works is something I don’t pretend to comprehend. I don’t think any god looked kindly on us before that day,” she snuck a glance at Withers, who merely nodded, “but neither do I think it was mere chance. We were… meant to be here. Meant to meet, meant to go through everything we did and everything else we will encounter. Each meant for the other,” she added, watching his lips curl as he acknowledged her words.
“You waited far too long for me, while I did not have to wait long at all. There’s no compensation that can make up for all that,” and she shook her head as he opened his mouth, “but I hope that I can at least begin to… I don’t know, ease it.”
She looked down at the ring in her hand. It felt easier to say the words then, without meeting his gaze. “There are not enough words to express the depth of my love for you, and I fear there never will be. I have never been good at baring my heart, but if there was ever a moment to do so anyway it would be this one. I could say I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved in my life, and it would be true, but somehow it fails to express the sheer magnitude of my feelings for you.” She dared glance up to Astarion and was rewarded by an encouraging nod. “I vow from this day on to love you, to cherish you, and to see you. Even when it gets hard, even when it takes work to do so. I promise to do better, as you have done. I shall be your rock, your support, your comfort whenever you need me. Until the sun burns out, and through whatever lies beyond, I am yours. For as long as we exist, I vow to be your home, as you are mine.” She finally met his gaze and thanked herself for not fully looking up sooner. He looked so beautiful.
Astarion held his hand up, his fingers quivering visibly. He was smiling, but it was a bit frozen, almost forced in his anxious excitement. His eyes were too bright and wet, and she realized the trembling wasn’t just his hand but his whole body. She wanted nothing more than to wrap him in her arms and hide him away from everyone else, to keep him in the shelter of her embrace until his nervousness abated.
She slid the ring onto his finger.
Astarion cleared his throat. “Wrong finger,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. She stammered out a quick sorry, moving the ring from his middle to his ring finger.
The moment the ring slid home, Ulder spoke up. “It is with great honor that I pronounce you husband and wife. Lord Ancunín, you may kiss your beautiful bride.”
Instantly, Astarion wrapped an arm around her waist, tugging her close. He pressed their bodies together, and slipped his hands down, linking them under her ass. He gripped her tightly, lifting her up. She wound her hands around his neck, the silken fabric of his collar pleasant against her skin.
His mouth slotted against hers, his plush lips pressing against her own. Leaning into the kiss, she heard him groan softly as his tongue lapped at her lips, seeking entrance. She opened for him and the approving hum that answered her sent shivers down her spine. The feeling of his teeth catching her lower lip, dragging over it as he pulled gently, elicited a quiet moan from her. The sound of whistling from somewhere in the crowd broke through to her and she finally pulled away, embarrassed. He set her down but didn’t let go of her.
Astarion simpered for the crowd, but his eyes were still damp and round. He offered her his arm and she gratefully accepted, leaning against him as they walked back down the aisle, finally husband and wife.
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Astarion sauntered over to where Ban stood in front of the enchanted mirror, fighting with the clasps of her capelet, approaching from behind. “Does my wife need aid?” His hands ran over her shoulders to the clasps.
“Probably,” she huffed. “I had so much trouble having them put on. No one really knows how to do it, other than you.”
They were working on their first outfit change of the day, and she knew there would be more. Astarion had insisted on doing so for some variety in the portraits that would be painted today, but Ban also thought it a good idea to convey a sense of decadence and power. She was beginning to regret the pragmatism in that decision, now that she had to deal with the reality of multiple complex and tedious dress changes in a single evening.
He hummed in response, fingers slipping under the ornamentation to undo the buttons. “At the very least they managed to put it on straight. I was worried.”
“Gale did say as much.”
They both watched their reflections as he easily unbuttoned one side, then did the other, allowing the cape to fall to the floor between them. He leaned forwards, placing a kiss on her bare shoulder.
“Do you require more assistance, my love?” he whispered against the shell of her ear.
Shivering, she turned. “I wouldn’t say no, but I’m surprised you’re offering. The day isn’t quite over yet, Astarion.”
“Is it not? We’re wedded,” he held up his left hand, ring glinting in the candlelight, “and we have more than two hours before the reception starts. I presume we could steal a few minutes.” He closed in, crowding her, foreheads almost touching. “It wouldn’t take long, surely.”
Ban shook her head, reaching back to begin untying the laces of her dress. “We have portraits to pose for. We don’t have time.” She would have loved to; a month apart ensured her resistance was thin, but in that moment her thoughts were with the wedding arrangements. “As much as I want to-”
The words died in her throat as he moaned in her ear, rolling his hips against her thigh. “Certainly it should be up to me when our game ends, don’t you agree, darling? Ten minutes,” he whispered, “is all I would need.”
“Astarion-”
“Please.”
That word and the needy, aggressive tone in his voice undid the last threads of her restraint. She growled, taking a step back to remove the rest of her outfit. His eyes tracked her every move as she stripped the gown off, shimmying out of it gracelessly, shoving it down to her legs and stepping out of it.
“On that table,” Astarion pointed, and she backed up to sit on its edge. He prowled towards her, eyes dark and very much hungry, still fully clothed. His hands parted her legs roughly as he knelt. Their eyes met and she swallowed.
“Ten minutes, Astarion,” she warned weakly.
A dark bark of amusement answered her. “Trust me. I require less than that.”
His hand made its way up her thigh, fingers dancing playfully. He kissed her knee, eyes still locked onto hers. The other hand wrapped around the back of her knee, fixing that leg in place.
“Be a good girl,” he purred, “and be quiet. We don’t want anyone,” he traced her folds through her underwear, then flicked her clit through the fabric, “hearing us, do we?”
“Or walking in.” She took a quick, cursory look. She was pretty sure the door had been locked so they could change; the likelihood of anyone walking in was low.
He sank his teeth into the meat of her thigh, lapping lazily at the blood that formed, then smirked. His thumb ran circles around her clit, no doubt feeling the wetness beginning to soak through the cloth. “That too.”
Her eyes were glued to him as he began kissing his way up her thigh, fangs scraping her skin. He mouthed at her core, the thin cloth leaving too little and yet too much in between his tongue and her. He drew back a hand to undo the buttons of his suit, but his mouth never left her.
She rolled her hips, an insistent, pleading gesture, one hand wrapping around the side of the table as she bit on the other to stifle a moan. He hooked a finger in her underwear, tugging the fabric aside to bare her glistening folds. Red eyes flicked to her face, and he looked ravenous. “I wager you now agree with my assessment?”
“Probably less than ten minutes, yes,” she said breathlessly. “Just please. Lick me.”
He nodded, his face perfectly neutral, as if they were merely talking about the weather. “I knew you’d come around.” Keeping his eyes on her, he licked her, his tongue laid flat, from her entrance all the way up, making sure to give her a firm flick where she needed it most.
Ban groaned, spreading her legs further, needing more. Astarion obliged, slipping two fingers into her without meeting any resistance. “You’re deliciously wet, darling. How long have you wanted this? Wanted my tongue on you, wanted me - my fingers or my tongue or my cock, any part of me - inside you?”
She bucked, fucking herself on his fingers helplessly. “Too long,” she whispered. “Far too long.”
“Then I shall reward your patience, my love.” Without another word he dove right back between her legs; his hand spread her open, his tongue running circles around her clit before finally wrapping his lips around it and suckling.
She whined, the sensation momentarily overwhelming, but then he shifted into gentle, loving licks. Even that was intense, her hand instinctively lowering over his head, about to fist into his curls, until she remembered they needed to keep them pristine for the reception. She saw his eyes crinkle at her movement, but his mouth and fingers never stopped their work.
His fingers pumped into her faster, curling to hit her spot with every pass. His tongue lapped harder, the delicious friction making her hips move of their own accord, grinding against him. The fingers spreading her open, the naked, sheer desire in those eyes eating up her every reaction, the way his hips moved desperately in rhythm with his fingers, and the tent in his trousers were sights to behold, sights she had not seen in far too long, and it brought her climax barreling towards her.
“Astarion,” she whimpered, his name a quiet supplication upon the altar of his tongue.
He growled, low and deep in his throat, dragging a fang across her clit. The vibration and the slight sting of his fang sent chills racing along her entire body. She fought the urge to arch, to allow her eyes to roll back, wanting to see it. To see him. Their eyes met, and he cockily raised a brow as he gave her one last, hard flick, perfectly timed with a hard thrust of his fingers.
She bit her hand, fangs inadvertently breaking skin, a loud, muffled scream emanating from her as she came. Her hips jerked and Astarion wrapped a hand around her hip, pressing her closer as he lapped up everything she had to give. As she slowly recovered he kept licking, seemingly unwilling to stop. She could still see his erection straining against his trousers, his hips still slowly rocking.
“I… fuck,” she finally managed to say. She put a hand on his shoulder, pushing gently, feeling slightly oversensitive.
Astarion let go, a lazy, satisfied smirk on his face. He wiped his mouth on his cravat, then tugged it off. “Plenty of time to spare, just as I expected.”
Still trembling, Ban barely managed an annoyed glare. She let her eyes stray to the bulge between his legs. “And what about you?”
He looked down, as if noticing his clearly painful erection for the first time. “I think I can wait a little longer.” He adjusted his trousers and took a slow, deep breath in an attempt to calm down. “I simply wanted to end your punishment.”
“As for myself,” he drew in close and kissed her, letting her taste herself on his tongue, “I figure I have all night, and eternity after that.”
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moumouton4 · 2 days
Text
Protect What Matters To You || Sasuke Uchiha x fem!reader
A/n : I decided to finish the fic I started 2 months ago before the 3 weeks of exams start soon
Masterlist ⚜
Warning : None just fluff, though mention of worshiping and a surprise
Summary : You and your boyfriend are walking in the streets of Konohagakure today, though he feels a little more protective than he usually is. But something unexpected will stir his emotions
I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it
Word count : 684
Tumblr media
He had always been the protective one. Always glaring when people got too close to you, he would take a step closer until your sides touched. At times, his hand would clutch around your wrist or at your hip if he was in the mood for light pda, his cloak flapping like a shield around you. 
At first, it was a bit tricky to keep up with, you had just started dating and all this was very new to him. He was one to easily get overwhelmed by his feelings, even though he was pretty gifted to hide it. After some time and some more discussions just the two of you, he came to terms with the usual ways of dealing with such situations. Besides after a while everyone knew you two were dating so they always thought twice before disrespecting you in any ways. Unfortunately for them - and Sasuke’s nerves - not everyone had this presence of mind.
He had seen them coming from afar, actually he did spot them from the moment they started walking down the path to Konohagakure marketplace. His eyes instinctively narrowed at the loud people that walked your way. Four boys of about 15 years old, chatting and laughing loudly as they made a din going down the narrow path leading to the marketplace.
As per usual, his ninja instinct kicked in as he studied them, his hand never loosening the grip it had on you. And as they got closer it only grew stronger and tighter. He glared at them, his Sharingan threatening to come to life as he tried to channel his protectiveness. The boys continued laughing together and pushing one another in some sort of fake battle, clearly not minding anything nor anyone around them.
And what had to happen happened, inadvertently one of the boys who just shoved his friend to the side ended up bumping into you. Being the robust kunoichi you were, the impact didn’t make you budge an inch, your eyes didn’t even widen because to be fair you had been looking at them from the same time Sasuke started, you just knew something like this could happen. Just like when you walk on the beach and walk near people playing football there, you just know you are going to get hit by the ball.
Though it seems Sasuke didn’t expect something like this could happen. Everything went very quickly. Instead of looking at the careless kids you immediately caught Sasuke’s wrist, whose Sharingan flared to life in an instant.
“Sasuke no, it’s fine” you reassured your boyfriend, gently pulling at his arm as he tried to take a step towards them. Fortunately your gentle words convinced him and he relented. Though his eyes followed the kids in a mix of silent threat if this were to ever happen again. He just couldn't help it when it came to you.
After the teenagers completely disappeared from his view he turned his head back to you, trying to keep his stoic façade, but he couldn't prevent the deep sigh that escaped his parted lips. Lately Sasuke has been very tense to say the least “You’re sure you’re alright ? And don’t underestimate it” he instructed.
You smiled at him “Yeah there’s nothing to worry about”
“Sure ?” he pressed on, his hand coming to rest gently on your stomach.
“Absolutely” you said feeling another rush of warmth as he started making slow circular motion, in a soothing manner - though it seemed he was trying to soothe himself as well - on the little swell that has started to subtly show for the past 3 weeks “He or she is perfectly fine”
A small smile spread on his lips at your reassurance. Without saying anything more, he brought his other hand to your lower back, reluctantly taking his hand off your abdomen before guiding you back on the path you were taking minutes ago. Now he was going to take you back home, where his nerves would ease a little, and where he would be able to worship your like the queen he knows you are.
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tellmeallaboutit · 2 days
Text
knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)
Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger 
Chapter 1
SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?
TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation
RATING: explicit
AO3
Chapter 2
The next day, during your lunch break, you made another attempt to persuade Raphael to take his clothes off. The clock struck noon; your private laptop was on the right side of your desk, while your work laptop was on the left, Teams open and your mouse ready to show signs of activity from time to time.
The sun was shining through the wide open window, children playing outside. Idyllic. Nothing sinister could be happening in broad daylight with those happy sounds in the background. The horror movies told you so. Except for Midsommar.
Well, screw Midsommar, then. This isn’t Sweden.
"All right, I'm going to set some ground rules here," you said to the loading screen. "I can be as creepy as I want to be to you, because you're just a bunch of pixels, but you can't do anything creepy to me, because I'm a human being. Got that? Good."
The sound of your voice made you feel braver.
As you heard the familiar sinister 'you-let-the-villain-win-bad-player' music in the background, you covered your eyes with your hands and peered through splayed fingers.
Then he appeared. Just as you had wished. Perfectly naked, with a stereotypical video game six-pack and just the right amount of body hair. The orange lighting made his skin glow, and his flaccid penis, like that of the game's generic male model, vanished from sight as he strode closer.
Your ears pricked up to listen to the scripted monologue you knew by heart, watching (waiting?) for any hiccups or new animations, the YouTube app on your phone playing the identical scene for comparison.
Everything happened exactly as it should, word for word, save for the speaker’s nudity.
All good. You breathed a sigh of relief and spread your fingers wider to admire Raphael a little better. 
Same as always. Handsome and charming and completely imaginary, which, now that you thought about it, was the biggest part of his charm. 
"Ta-ta... for now," Raphael's signature line echoed through the room.
"Bravo, Raphael," you praised the screen. "You've done nothing creepy. You have earned your title of Archdevil Supreme."
After waiting for a response that never came, you laughed off your silliness and shook your head. Your laptop was overheating, giving off a slight synthetic smell. Should have upgraded a long time ago. Just need to put enough money aside.
"OK, screenshots," you said. "I wanted to take some screenshots. Do you mind, Raphael? Can I have your consent? They’ll help recruit more followers for you, my liege."
Your phone vibrated. The FaceID gave you a preview of the Discord messages from Queen-of-the-Bored, one of the few Raphaelites you'd actually spoken to directly and felt like you kinda sorta knew.
queen-of-the-bored: ngl that was some really funny joke, we spent the whole night trying to recreate it :-D queen-of-the-bored: you sounded legit worried over that voice message tho haha you: it was legit. check the reddit thread queen-of-the-bored: which thread
Ok, let me google that for you. You typed in the same search words as yesterday, "Raphael naked mod April prank," clicked on the thread from yesterday, and skimmed through the comments.
“nah not joking there is this naked mod for teenage mutant ninja""
“all dongs appeared MASSIVE on April’s first”
Scrolling further, you realized that was not the correct Raphael - it's Raphael the Turtle, not Raphael the Devil. Why was there so much NSFW content about him? What did people see in turtles?
You quickly corrected your search to "Raphael BG3 naked mod April prank," but it didn’t bring back any relevant results. So, you changed it to "last twenty four hours" just to be thorough.
Didn’t help. Nothing. You were the only to be called a naughty little mouse. The special one.
queen-of-the-bored: which thread dude??? you: my bad it was the turtle queen-of-the-bored: ??? queen-of-the-bored: I am slowly getting worried about you haha
Next step? Contact the mod developer directly? What if they have no idea what you're talking about?
Then what? What were the alternative theories? You've been hacked and doxxed to madness for that one Twitter post that got people waving pitchforks at you? 
There you go, you were scared again. Daytime, sun shining and children playing outside, but there you were, alone in your flat, scared again.
You took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "All right, I understand, Mr Archdevil Supreme. No screenshots. I'll uninstall the mod and I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour."
You couldn't bear to see Raphael's face on the screen again so you hit ctrl alt delete instead of Escape and stared blankly at the Task Manager.
Next, you uninstalled the mod that had caused all this trouble. Then you went to Tumblr and removed the reblog of Raphael in a cat playsuit with the tag "my poor miau miau". Then you deleted your bookmarks on AO3. Your Twitter account was beyond repair, so you deleted it altogether.
None of these actions made you feel any better. You grabbed a quick cup of shrimp noodles, but eating it only made you feel worse. As you tasted the sodium on your tongue, you came to a realisation: what you needed was to go the fuck outside.
You had been stuck in your flat and home office since the start of the pandemic, chronically online. Online work, online colleagues, online friends, who was the last real person you saw, talked to and hugged?
Your mum, probably. 
Oh yes, no wonder you were going mad. You need to get out there and meet some real people. You opened Discord, quickly scrolled past the sketch of Tav giving Raphael head, and typed a message: you needed to touch grass.
queen-of-the-bored: well there is Comic-Con this weekend  you: this is NOT touching grass, this is burning it queen-of-the-bored: true you: besides not going alone queen-of-the-bored: maybe Raph will keep you company 😈 
What? Such a strange thing to say. Or was it? Who the hell was that behind the screen anyway? Apparently someone called Sammy from Ohio. Supposedly. Wasn’t she the one who recommended this mod?
She was.
Come on, you're just letting your paranoia get the best of you.
queen-of-the-bored: oh BTW I found THE hottest Raph smut  queen-of-the-bored: mind the tags it's so hot but soooooo fucked up queen-of-the-bored: just read it trust me thank me later
Who the hell were you, Sammy from Ohio, Korilla? You put the phone down and started pacing around your small flat. It was not much to pace around, only forty-two square meters. 
At least you rent a flat in a building with other people and not some house at the edge of the forest. Strangers live below you, above you and on either side of you. They don't know you and you don't know them... but they were there, just in case...
Just in case.
"You know what?" you said to your computer. "I need a break. I need to focus on my mental health. Self-care, Raphael. I'm not playing with you. For now".
The moment you finished speaking, your phone lit up again with another notification. This time it was an email. You made a mental note to start managing your notifications better.
Did you enjoy your Devil Dick © - Natural Red experience? We know you will be back for more 😈 Check out the new...
What the fuck? Oh no, no, click away and make a mental note to never order from Bad Dragon again with customer satisfaction emails like this. It's borderline harassment. You ordered from them ONCE, as a joke, just to see what ridges might feel like.
Not as good as the smut had promised you,
Private. Private stuff. Between you and your bed drawer. Between you and your browser. God, how much stuff you have in your browser history. You should have used incognito mode more often.
Would that have helped? 
"That was low, Raphael," you muttered. "Or is it Haarlep today?"
You glanced around your room before angling your computer screen towards the wall, then retrieved the Devil Dick © from its hideaway in your bedside drawer. Your fingers grazed over the silicon ridges as you swiftly stashed it away in a box beneath the bed.
"If you must know, it was too big for me. Flattered?"
Crawling out from under the dusty bed, you looked up and realized for the first time that anyone in the building could easily peep into the flat if they tried hard enough or cared enough to do so.
Enough is enough.
You need to hydrate, you need to eat some vegetables, you need to start jogging again and you definitely... you definitely need to go out and talk to some real people. Maybe it's time to get back on Bumble and try your luck again. Who knows, it might actually work this time.
He wouldn't like that.
Where did that thought just come from? He wouldn't like it, who the hell cares what some imaginary devil thinks.
Standing up straight, you pointed a finger at the screen in front of you.
"Raphael, just so we are clear, you and I: I really like you. I do PR for you every day for free. You don't have to scare me to get my attention. You should appreciate me and be nice to me. I'm the best agent you'll ever have.”
Having made your point, you put on your running shoes and AirPods. It brought back memories of all the times you had jogged through the nearby park. Afterwards you'd sit on the bench and eat an ice-cream, watching couples, happy and glowing, watching families with children, happy and stressed, watching people living their lives in a reality parallel to yours, and then you'd come home and go into a reality parallel to theirs.
The AirPods picked up right where they left off last time.
I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear
I wanna fucking tear you apart
You removed the AirPods from your earlobes and exhaled. This wasn’t Raphael's fault. This is She Wants Revenge, you have listened to it a thousand times. You knew the lyrics, they hadn't changed. 
You can't even listen to music anymore. Pull yourself together. 
Get some vitamins from the pharmacy.
Touch some goddamn grass.
***
You stuck to your digital and physical diet until the weekend, and as a reward, nothing happened. No oddly timed emails, no strange messages, no random phone calls. Maybe it was your pitch talk or the vitamins you started taking, but either way, Raphael was on his best behavior, and so were you. 
No Tumblr, no AO3. Didn't even touch Steam. Got into a highbrow podcast about the Roman Empire.
You set a new personal record for days without 'self-indulgence', as Raphael would put it, although that wasn't really the intention. Something always seemed to interrupt - whether it was the loud hum of the fridge (which was always obnoxious) or the flickering light in the hallway (which had been broken for over a week). 
By Friday, you had finally finished the work projects you had been putting off for months. The job wasn't too bad, but it hadn't been any fun for years, if it ever had been. You did the bare minimum to get the paycheck and keep the job, and your employer kept the paycheck at the bare minimum to keep you. If there was anything else you could do, you would do something else.
Still, this was probably the most productive week you had in years. You scrubbed your flat from top to bottom twice and cleared your wardrobe of clothes that no longer fit.
You were proud of yourself.
Gradually your sense of security began to return. You tried not to dwell too much on the incident with the naughty little mouse; if you didn't think about it, it almost felt like it hadn't happened.
On Friday, you plucked up the courage to play BG3 again, wandered through Baldur's Gate, avoiding the House of Hope for the time being, had a few fights, played the graveyard scene with Astarion (daring, but a small part of you hoped it would make Raphael jealous enough to come out again), and shut it down. 
Nothing out of the ordinary.
You hadn't planned to go to Comic-Con. For one thing, it was on the other side of the city, in the business district of the convention centre, so it would take at least an hour to get there. Secondly, going alone just felt... weird.
It was not until Friday night that a little voice in your head started to whisper, "Why not? Maybe you'll meet some like-minded people”. Make some friends you can actually touch (not in a creepy way). 
It's a better chance than endlessly swiping on Bumble.
Maybe you'll meet...
Neil Newbon. If you can get past the hordes of fangirls. Andrew Wincott. No, Andrew Wincott wouldn't be there; you'd checked beforehand. To be honest, hearing his voice might have been too much for your psyche at that moment.
So you decided to go. You went, and it was as fun as you had imagined it would be - that is, hardly any. The convention hall was huge and crowded, rows and rows of stalls, crowds and crowds of people. Live panel discussions, cosplayers, flashing lights, bright colors, chatter, laughter, very loud, very lively.
Raphael wouldn't last a minute in that chaos.
"Hell is other people," you thought to yourself, quoting Sartre. If you ever met Raphael, you'd quote Sartre to him too. He must know that you read intelligent books and not just fanfiction. 
Some people might be comfortable going to events and eating alone in restaurants, but not you. It's even worse being the odd one out in a group of odd ones. How come all the others had someone to take along? Where did they find all those people in this godforsaken city?
You talked to a few people and a few people talked to you. Nothing really took off. Your mind was elsewhere, to be fair. You were looking for something in the crowd. 
Someone.
It was absurd, yes, but so was what happened this week with the mod. You had met a few Raphael cosplayers, three at least, but they were...
Well, of course they weren't him. But they did a great job with the clothes and the hair and the make-up, and one had really great prosthetic horns, and you touched them and admired them and praised that particular Raphael for all his hard work in creating them.
They were real people, not video game characters that had come to life, and neither were you. You looked down at your jeans, at your thighs, and thought you should start jogging again, and felt even less comfortable in your own skin. 
Then Neil Newbon came along and things quickly became too chaotic for you.
You decided to take a break and walked down the street until you came across a cosy café - none of that generic chain stuff, but something that tried hard to be authentic with pretty flowers in the windows.
Sitting alone at a table for two, you looked down at your phone and opened the Discord chat because you came here to talk to some real people.
In the main chat, there was a heated debate about whether devils are allowed to torture mortals into signing contracts. Both sides presented arguments based on lore, edition contradictions, past precedents and personal conviction. 
A man's voice interrupted you as you typed your own very elaborated opinion of hellish law. "Excuse me, may I?" he asked, his words slightly muffled by the AirPods.
"Sure," you replied with practiced friendliness, not even looking up. That was always your default answer. It's not like you can say no to this kind of request anyway. 
People ask and do a lot of things out of politeness. That was precisely why you took the AirPods out of your ears.
The moment you lifted your eyes to meet the man's, you learned the true meaning of the word 'jumpscare'. Your body jerked upwards, the table shook and the coffee cup tumbled - narrowly missing Raphael.
Raphael. 
Not a man who looked like Raphael, not a man who was dressed like him - Raphael. 
You weren't sure if you made any sound or uttered any words. You probably yelped.
What you did do for sure was gawk.
His skin tone identical; hair slicked back just right; eyes uncannily accurate in hue and shape - down to every wrinkle. A perfectly realistic rendering. Not the uncanny valley type, no, perfectly believable. This is exactly what he would look like if he were real and swapped his fantasy clothes for a business suit.
So this is what it feels like to go completely insane.
Very banal, actually. You are having a psychotic breakdown and no one is even looking at you, except for an imaginary devil.
"Oh my, my apologies," Raphael said as he quickly grabbed napkins to mop up the spreading lake of coffee on the table. "I did not mean to scare you."
Oh, but he did, very much. You could not breathe, your chest encased in an iron brace of fear. It's you who needs to apologise, and apologise fast, and apologise a lot, and beg for mercy. Especially for liking the Twitter art of him being spit-roasted between Yurgir and Haarlep. 
If you only knew... you would never have clicked on it... absolutely never... all those posts you wrote... 
"Raphael?" you managed to squeak out. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”
This must be how a deer feels in the headlights of an oncoming truck.
He looked at you, very sincere confusion etched across his handsome face. "Excuse me?"
You drew in a shaky breath, your nostrils flaring as you tried to catch a whiff of cherries under the aroma of fresh coffee, not caring how absurd you appeared. Yes? No? Or was that strawberry jam on his croissant? Have your senses gone haywire? Your mind certainly has.
"You're... you're here to cosplay Raphael?" 
The thought tumbled out of your mouth before it had time to fully form in your head. It was the only explanation that made sense... It didn't, but it made more sense than all the others put together.
Raphael moved closer, pulled up a chair and asked, amused: "I beg your pardon, I'm here to do what to whom?"
The voice. The voice was the same. Andrew Wincott's voice. The man had simply stolen his voice. Or had the man stolen it from him? The movements, the mannerisms, the facial expressions. This man could not be Raphael because...
Well, because this man was real. As real as you were. 
"Raphael," you explained. "From the video game. Are you here to cosplay... to play... Raphael?"
The man gave you a look as if questioning your sanity, and rightfully so. You were also sweating bullets - could he see the damp patches under your hoodie? You pressed your arms against your sides; wouldn't want him noticing.
"I'm hardly an actor," Raphael replied with a polite smile, "although there was a time in my youth when I entertained such ambitions."
He chuckled lightly and took a leisurely sip of his coffee. 
"I'm here to enjoy my espresso, nothing more. I... have never been particularly fond of..." he added with the disdain of a typical middle-aged man, "... video games.”
You had no response for that because Raphael wouldn't be into video games either; that much was believable.
"My office is across the street," he said, pointing towards the office complex opposite you. "Precisely there."
The golden sign on the building across from you, Kirkland & Ellis, told you nothing, except that Raphael had an office job and an office space and a desk and all the things that the devil shouldn’t have because the devil invented them to torture the others.
Raphael was dressed like he had just stepped out of a board meeting. A three-piece slate gray tailored suit, white shirt peeking out from underneath, silk tie and matching pocket square. Of all the modern Raphael AUs, you preferred the Professor one, you voted for it, you had Sucharide’s fic bookmarked. The Professor was more, ugh...
Safe.
As for you, you were wearing a hoodie with your university on it. A clean hoodie, but a hoodie nonetheless. What the hell else would you be wearing to Comic Con? You didn't do your hair. Well, putting it in a ponytail is not doing your hair. Why did you not do your hair? 
"I know, I know, you must be wondering why anyone would toil on a weekend," Raphael continued. That was the last thing you were wondering. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."
"Wicked?" you echoed. You looked at the people in the cafe, sure they were staring at the both of you, but they weren't.
"Oh," he chuckled lightly, "it's just an expression – 'No rest for the wicked.' You've never heard it before?"
"Of course I have," you said, momentarily embarrassed. "Never mind...sorry."
"You have nothing to apologise for," Raphael raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I should be the one to apologise for startling you. May I offer you another cup of... ah, what was that... cappuccino? After twelve? Tsk-tsk, young lady".
Not a single modern man could ever manage to say the words "tsk-tsk, young lady" as charmingly. That was Raphael.
"No bother, I can get one myself," you said quickly, about to stand up. 
He raised his hand slightly and put it down to halt your movement, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you, and if he had, if you had felt the skin of his skin, he would have felt more real and you would have died on the spot from a bursting heart.
"I have no doubt about that. But may I treat you? It would be my absolute pleasure”.
Pleasure. The way he said the word was straight obscene. You couldn't handle the word 'pleasure' coming from a man who had been responsible for more than half your orgasms in the last few months.
So in your daze, you mumbled: "Yeah. Yeah, sure."
Raphael stood up and walked over to the barista. She acknowledged him, so that's one point for him being real and you not hallucinating. Not only did she acknowledge him but she flashed him a goofy grin - clearly smitten.
Of course she is.
You have to take a picture of him. How do you take a picture of someone without their consent without being a total creep?
You don't. It's in the fucking definition; you can't. But you should. Maybe you'll open your camera roll and see someone completely different, and then you'll know it's time to call for mental health services.
Your phone was buzzing with messages, which you quickly swiped away and went straight to the camera. You took a picture of him from behind while he ordered you a coffee. The barista gave you a “fucking weirdo” look. 
Fuck you, you thought, you have no idea what I am going through right now. Then you switched to the camera roll and checked to see if the photo reflected what you saw.
A broad, fit back of a very attractive middle-aged man with lush brown hair, paying for coffee with cash.
You couldn't decide whether this made you feel better or worse.
When Raphael returned with your cup, you had something for him too. "This is the character I was talking about," you said, a screenshot of virtual Raphael ready on your screen.
Anyone who saw the screenshot would say, "Who motion-captured me?" 
Not Raphael. He barely glanced before shrugging and handing your phone back. "Hmm, I see some resemblance, I guess."
Resemblance? What fucking resemblance? There was no resemblance; he WAS Raphael! You were about to argue but he beat you to it: "Why? Were you hoping to meet this...Raphael?" 
His voice dropped an octave and he looked at you intently. He was flirting - openly, unashamedly.
"I...I was," you stammered out. "He's my favourite character."
Brilliant, brilliant line. Dear diary, today I wanted to meet Raphael, my favourite character from my favourite game. So much for quoting Sartre.
"Well now, I'm flattered," Raphael purred, causing you to wriggle uncomfortably in your seat. "I do bear some physical likeness."
That was a massive understatement. 
The man had a disarmingly charming smile. You tried to remember if Raphael had ever smiled like that in the game. It was mostly scowls and grins and smirks, but this kind of smile? You didn't think so. You caught a glimpse of yourself in his hazel eyes, and that was not Tav; that was you. Just you.
Not that you were unattractive or anything. Average. Maybe even a little pretty on a good day. You didn't like yourself very much. Then again, most people don't. That's how the beauty industry makes its money. 
You got your share of attention, some, nothing to brag about. Had two boyfriends, it didn't work out, you used to care, now you don't. Certainly never got any attention from men who looked like him.
Why should this man be interested in you, why? Ah, yes. Your soul. He probably wants your soul. Is it worth much at all? Is it worth coming all the way to Earth? You wanted to apologize to him for going through all this trouble just for you.
"So this event in the convention hall down the street..." he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall a forgotten name.
"Comic-Con 2024," you supplied. "It's huge in fandom culture. TV shows, video games, that sort of stuff.”
"Ah. Not my kind of entertainment - or my kind of audience, for that matter," Raphael said with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyeing the “Astarion approves” badge on your backpack.  "It does remind me of a deal I signed recently."
"Deal?" you asked in a weak voice. He nodded. "What deal? With who?"
"With who? No, I meant the Microsoft-Blizzard acquisition". 
Ah, that kind of deal. The words felt so reassuring, so real, the acquisition. Raphael would have no idea about these words. Raphael wouldn't say "Microsoft". You mean the real Raphael. What the hell is a 'real' Raphael again?
For the first time, you let go of a little tension. You took a first sip of your coffee and leaned back slightly in your chair. 
"Actually, I think these acquisitions are really harmful for the industry," you said. 
Why did you have to be so confrontational? You didn't have anything clever to say about such things, so you spoke the truth instead. Bad idea.
"How candid of you to say that. Well, I’ll be just as candid with you: I am indeed a villain." Raphael grinned. "I hope you can forgive me." 
There went your short-lived relaxation, which lasted less than a minute.  Raphael had just looked at you and said "I am a villain". Challenge him. Tell him it's him because, well, it's him. It can only be him. Tell him you know it's him, and then...
And then what?
"Everybody's got a job to do, I guess", you managed to utter the most generic phrase in existence.
"Isn't that so..." Raphael replied, pausing for a moment before finishing the sentence with your name.
You did not introduce yourself to him. You were sure of it. Absolutely sure. 
"How do you know my name?" you asked, half rising from your chair, raising your voice and quickly lowering it again. "I didn't tell you my name. How do you know it?"
Raphael gestured to your phone, which lay on the table screen between the two of you. Your work ID card was tucked away in its transparent case - something you hadn't needed for a while.
It had your first and last name on it.
"I saw it right before my eyes," he explained. "I thought it was a hint."
"It wasn't," you said.
"Oh, another faux pas on my part then," he said. "At this rate, I owe you something to make up for all my many transgressions. Perhaps dinner?"
You let out a nervous chuckle. One of your popular Tumblr posts had been an impassioned rant about how Raphael had promised a similar in-game offer but failed to deliver despite the many times you gave him the Crown.
"I seem to have absolutely terrified you, and that was not my intention. I insist on making it up to you. If you allow me, of course. I don't want to impose. Would you allow me to?"
He looked at you with the intensity of a man admiring a beautiful woman, his shoulders back and chin slightly up, trying to present himself from his best angle - something you've seen men do before, but rarely (if ever) to you. It was as if he could hang on every word that came out of your mouth, simply because he enjoyed watching your lips move. Raphael looked like he was in love, for Christ's sake.
Your cheeks grew warm. 
"Yes," you replied.
He kept silent for a bit, savouring your answer. 
"Splendid. Where might I collect you?"
It took you a moment to realise that he was asking for your address. Your personal address. Shouldn't he know it already, if he was Raphael? You replied as nonchalantly as possible:
"Why don't I give you my number and we can arrange to meet at the center?"
His expression darkened slightly; you've seen this look in the game before.
No, you shouldn't have said that. You wanted him to like you. 
Desperately.
"You don't trust me?" Raphael's voice dropped an octave or two, playful and just a little threatening.
You felt his breath on your face (cherries?) and the next second you stopped feeling your legs. The attraction that had been simmering inside you for months started boiling over.
Breathe. Pretend it's not Raphael. A man came up to you in a coffee shop and asked you if you trusted him in that kind of tone, leaning in like that. You know what the sensible thing to do would be - get up and walk away. And if it really was Raphael, get up and run away. 
You remained seated and stayed. 
"Just, ugh..." was all you managed to get out of the jumbled thoughts in your head; two coherent sentences so far into the conversation, and both of them made you sound like an absolute madwoman. 
Raphael laughed.
"Of course you don't trust me, that's only prudent, and you seem to be quite an intelligent young lady. But just so we are clear, you and I: you have nothing to fear from me. What is that number of yours?"
Quite an intelligent young lady, the words echoed in your mind and you remembered your naughty anonymous Tumblr confession: I would suck every last drop of cum out of him as long as he kept praising me.
God, everything you've read with him in the main role. Double penetration, double vaginal penetration, pet play... you weren't even into half of it. You hoped Raphael didn’t think you actually wanted him to do all of the things you read with you.
You just liked clicking on random links.
"Do you need something to write it down or...?" you asked hesitantly.
"I will remember," he said curtly. “I do not forget things easily”.
You realised that there was something far more frightening than anything that had happened before: that he wouldn't remember, that he would never call you, and that this conversation and this meeting would end there. 
So you carefully enunciated each number, then took a pen from your pocket and wrote it down on a napkin: it seemed romantic in the movies, but your handwriting and the coffee stain made it look like a secret message from the madhouse.
He grinned and tucked the napkin into the pocket of his suit.
He took the last sip of coffee and then took your hand in his. He touched you. His skin was warm and real and soft and everything you had ever imagined, his touch surprisingly tender. 
Your whole body responded to that tiny crumb of affection, viscerally. You hadn't realized how famished you were for a touch until that moment.
He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed them against yours. His lips were soft too, slightly damp from the coffee.
"I am looking forward to our rendezvous," Raphael murmured against your palm. "Ver much so."
Rendezvous.
In any other situation, a middle-aged man kissing your hand would be downright creepy. But this... this was a fever dream, an illusion, anything but reality. Because there was no way this madness could actually be happening to you.
Was it a bad thing? Was reality ever... this? So unpredictable? So exciting? 
You only snapped out of it when the door closed behind him, but you snapped out hard. You practically threw yourself at the next table, where a group of guys were sitting, their appearance screaming video games - backpacks and scruffy beards, Warhammer-emblazoned T-shirts. 
You grabbed one by the shoulder and hissed urgently: "Guys-guys-guys-guys." Your words came like rapid fire. "Tell me that guy doesn't look exactly like Raphael from Baldur's Gate? That one? On the street behind the window?" 
Damn, you sounded desperate.
"Ah, sorry, never played it," came the nonchalant reply before he turned back to his friends' conversation.
"Baldur's Gate," chimed in another, his face lighting up. "Amazing game. Looks like who?"
"Raphael," you said. "The devil."
The guy laughed, but didn't even look where you were pointing.
"Ah, the two-pump chump?"
You shot a quick glance at Raphael. His eyes met yours through the glass window, and they were cold now; his smile was gone. 
I didn't say that, you pleaded with him in your thoughts. That guy said that. That guy over there. I would never say that.
Your defence of his bed skills stretched from Reddit to Tumblr threads, you argued that Haarlep was slandering him, that Raphael was the best fuck there ever was and you personally vouched for that because you fucked him a thousand times in your head.
"Don't call him that, please," you whispered to the guy. He gave you a confused look when you pointed at Raphael again: "Look at him. The one staring at us. Does he look like him?
Is he real? Do you see him too?
"Ah yes," he admitted with a grin on his face, raising the cup of coffee to his lips, "he sort of does. Yes, he does! Well, I hope he doesn't...oh shit! FUCK!".
The guy's face contorted in pain as he clutched his mouth, jumping, cursing, tears streaming down his face. You could see the skin on his lips reddening and blistering.
"What the fuck?! It's fucking boiling! FUCK! "
The barista rushed over to him, spewing apologies as she tried to handle the situation. You took a step back and glanced at Raphael whose lips were moving subtly - two syllables that matched rhythmically: 'bye-bye' or maybe 'ciao-ciao'. 
It didn't have to be 'ta-ta'. He waved nonchalantly at you.
You waved back.
NEXT: Chapter 3, In Which Larian Introduces The Raphael Romance
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ingravinoveritas · 2 days
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irvinis replied to your post “Thinking about the photo from tonight, i almost…”
@ingravinoveritas this may be fanon (canon created by fans), but it fits so well into the daddy/boy dynamic. Michael comes to David's performances with his doors wide open, wearing his best sweater (or baring his arms) and giving a standing ovation: THIS IS MY BOY! And David makes his way to Michael’s performances, wrapped in a scarf up to his eyebrows and sighs quietly in delight from an inconspicuous place in the corner.
@irvinis Ohh...this is tickling a very specific part of my brain. Oh, I love this. In the past I didn't usually go for the daddy/boy dynamic with Michael and David (because I've always seen their relationship as one of equals/switches), but this absolutely fits them like a freaking glove.
We have the picture Georgia posted of David all wrapped up exactly like that, so right away that gives us a visual:
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And what you've described goes perfectly with what we saw when Michael went to see Macbeth in December--that white-bright moment of Michael gazing up at David from the audience, and David looking right back at him, captured forever on film and in our hearts. That, in contrast with last night, with David quietly going to the show and doing everything to keep the focus on Michael. David waiting until the lights have dimmed and all eyes are on the stage to let out that little sigh, feeling a shiver of unrestrained happiness work its way through his body as he watches, enraptured, as Michael does the thing he does best.
It's also interesting how this potentially ties into Michael not doing the matinee today. I know we could say it's because he's still recovering from being sick (and that would certainly make sense), but I love the thought that Michael sat out so many performances earlier in the week to make sure he had his strength specifically for last night's performance, because he knew David was coming and wanted to do a good job for him.
I could also see David going to Michael's dressing room after (with thanks to @greeneyed-thestral for planting the seed of that lovely idea) and seeing Michael all enthralled with a post-show high from performing, yet still anxious about how things went--worrying if he was on key for the musical number, if he missed any cues. I can see David slowly backing Michael into the mirror without a word, until the lights frame Michael like a halo. He takes off his ball cap and unravels his scarf in an elegant heap on the dresser, revealing himself, both of them now bare and vulnerable. David grasps either side of Michael's face in his hands, thumb tracing over the crow's feet at the side of Michael's eyes, and smiles softly. He kisses Michael, mouths opening just slightly as the kiss deepens and their tongues meet. Kisses him long enough to quiet Michael's mind, to get the overthinking voice inside to stop.
He is quiet, this David. Always making himself smaller to fit in rooms within rooms, hiding away, keeping the peace. Until Michael. Michael, who somehow had the key to every door. Something in David expands, becomes louder, growing to more than his slender frame could seem to handle, and he pours it into that kiss. A mark of this moment, of Michael bathed in light, of the two of them together and David silently saying, we are here. We are together and I am going to take care of you now.
Oh, yes...I could certainly see that happening. Thank you so much for this delicious prompt on a Saturday morning...
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badbatchsprincess · 2 days
Text
Heated ~ pt.7
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7
Masterlist
Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.
THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 
Warnings: SMUTTTT, f/m/m/m/m, rough sex!, Dom!Crosshair, Dom!Tech, soft Wrecker, a little angst I guess, heat/rut, knotting, a little Crosshair possessiveness, blow jobs, PnV
You are responsible for your own media consumption ya filthy animals.... AHHHH we made it! We made to the smut y'all ahahaha
Anyways, enjoy!
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─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
He looked up at Crosshair then Tech, “She said she wants… all four.” 
“That’s-“ Tech cleared his throat at a loss for words. That was unheard of… 
“Good enough for me.” Crosshair stood up walking over to you, he moved to reach down and end all of this, but Wrecker cradled you possessively making Crosshair snarl. 
“Alright. Easy. You all agreed to be civil.” Echo broke up the almost fight. 
“Wrecker let go.” Hunter ordered. 
The giant was reluctant at first, but set you back down on the ground before Crosshair. The lean clone brought you up and into his arms, running his nose through your hair, “let’s get you better sweetheart.” You were being carried through the galley back into your room before Crosshair set you down on your cot. 
You squirmed around desperate to keep his calloused hands on your heated skin. He quickly got to work ripping off what little pathetic pieces of clothing you still had on. Your tank top was nearly shredded and your soaked panties were snapped off into two little flimsy stands. Crosshair wasn’t gentle by any means and it made your insides vibrate.
“Alpha.” You whined trying to get him to touch you. 
The others soon started to file in. You preened seeing their lust blown eyes as Crosshair wrangled you into a proper position underneath him. 
“Eyes on me Ad’ika.” Crosshair yanked his shirt off revealing his perfectly muscular chest. That wouldn’t be difficult you realized. On instinct, you spread your sticky thighs making Crosshair very happy at your submission. 
“So beautiful.” He crooned grabbing your hips and tugged you down so you were flush against his thighs. You let out a sweet sigh that had the others cock’s twitch. Crosshair pushed his blacks down freeing his painfully hard cock. He could have moaned from finally feeling some relief, but he had a mission to accomplish… and that was to take away your pain and put his thick knot in your pretty little pussy. 
He leaned forwards supporting his weight on one hand while using the other to finally touch your silky folds. You let out a pornographic moan making Crosshair shudder. When he had confirmed you were wet enough, he grabbed onto his throbbing cock pumping it a few times before rubbing his tip through your wetness. 
You cried out and lifted your hips trying to feel more of him but he just snarled and used his hand to push your tummy down into the mattress. 
“Behave omega.” 
You whined but relented. He continued his trajectory and pushed through your opening making you gasp and the stretch. Crosshair sunk in until his hips were flush with yours. You let out a happy mewl finally feeling what you have been craving for days and damn did he feel good. 
“Fuck.” Hunter grumbled watching you take Crosshair. 
Crosshair didn’t give you a second to adjust, instead he pounded into you, mesmerized by the site in front of him. He was trying to commit this to memory before the fog of a full fledge rut took over his mind. You pink cheeked and blissed out. The sounds you were making while taking his cock was so much better then the horrible cries that had previously left your pretty lips it made his inner alpha very happy. 
The way your hands clung his biceps for dear life while you mewled and bounced up and down the cot. He decided to sit up leaning back on his knees before slipping out making you cry. He didn’t say anything, instead he flipped you over roughly grabbing you by the hips and tugging you up onto your hands and knees before lining himself back up and pushing inside again. 
You took him like a champ letting him manhandle you just how he liked. You didn’t know this, but Crosshair had imagined this very moment so many times in his head and it was so much better than he had ever dreamed of. You were the most beautiful thin the’d ever laid eyes on. 
Crosshair was probably the roughest alpha you’d ever taken but it was giving you such a thrill. You then remembered you had an audience and turned to see the others stroking themselves watching you with intensity making you whine. 
You involuntarily clenched making Crosshair hiss, “You like that huh? You like them watching you get fucked?” He leaned over fisting your hair forcing you to scramble for something to grab onto. 
You stared at Tech watching how flushed he was trying to satisfy his throbbing cock. 
“Tell him what you want Ad’ika.” Crosshair released your hair keeping his brutal pace. 
“I-I ahh- I want Tech in my mouth.” You struggled to speak. 
“Good girl.” Crosshair praised making you clamp down on him again, you felt him falter slightly. 
Tech stepped forwards until he was kneeling in front of you on the narrow cot. You looked up at him with needy eyes asking for permission to touch him. He reached a hand down to stroke your face giving your bottom lip a little tap. You smiled and reached down to wrap your hand around his thick cock giving it a few strokes before experimentally running your tongue from the base to tip teasing the alpha. Tech forced himself to breathe, letting you do whatever you wanted to him. 
But Crosshair wasn’t having any of that. He snapped his hips extra hard to punctuate his every word, “Like. You. Mean. It. Omega.” 
You yelped before shoving Tech entirely into your mouth giving him a good hard suck and bracing your hands on his muscular thighs. The Pilot groaned grabbing your hair in his fist. 
You fully committed to giving him the best head of his life. 
You even let him fuck your mouth when he suddenly couldn’t take it anymore and went at his own pace. You were in heaven. You’ve been thinking about how good Tech would taste, you’ve thought about it when you would watch him in his pilot’s seat, how easy it would be for you to kneeling under the console for him. 
You shuddered imagining it. Before long you felt Tech start to tense up making you double down and suck and tongue him even harder, eager for his cum. 
“Please Alpha.” You mumbled around him. 
He grunted and pushed your head further onto him as he came. You swallowed greedily making sure you didn’t miss a single drop. He pulled back keeping your mouth from his swelling knot, but his self control ended there. The Pilot nearly fainted from the orgasm and he had to take a deep breath before he blacked out.
Crosshair on the other hand reached down and grabbed the back of your neck yanking you up so you were pressed against his warm chest. His nimble fingers snaked down between your thighs rubbing you slowly. He felt you clench up around him as your little hands clawed at his forearms for purchase. 
“Cum Ad’ik.” He growled into your ear. 
That sent you over the edge. 
You came with a scream feeling relief flood your system as Crosshair thrust a few more times before cumming inside you with one powerful thrust. Waves of pleasure numbed your brain as it flowed through your entire body. Crosshair fucked his knot inside your pulsing pussy before settling in behind you. You sighed feeling the first bit of relief you’ve had in what feels like days. 
Crosshair gained back a bit of his sanity and helped lower the two of you down onto the cot keeping himself snuggly inside you. You had no idea Crosshair would be this kind of Alpha. Sure, you recall him taking advantage of his quarterly breaks but you didn’t think he’d be so… good at it? 
Tech bent down to pick up your tooka mug and tilted your chin to pour the water into your mouth. You sucked up the liquid gratefully and nuzzled back into Crosshair. You noticed the other two had clearly been able to relieve themselves before they too settled into the room. It smelled like sex and potent alpha. You felt Crosshair’s possessive arm wrap around you keeping you pressed to his chest.
“Better cyar’ika?” He whispered into your ear. 
“Yes.” You gasped, “So much better.” 
“Good.” He nibbled your ear nicking you with his incisor. You squealed and squirmed in his grasp as he toyed with your instinct to mate. He chuckled feeling you flutter around his fading knot knowing that would rile you up. 
When you could slide off of him, you felt a puddle of Crosshair forming under your bum. You wiggled around feeling more of him slipping from your folds making you squirm. 
The others watched your eyes dilate again as you suddenly got the powerful urge to nest. Crosshair must have triggered the instinct as you crawled out from under him. He let you, and watched as you knelt down inside your makeshift nest, collapsing into the moving blankets Echo had brought you. 
You quickly snatched up Crosshair’s discarded clothes from the floor and greedily added them to your pile. He watched in admiration as you very particularly organized his scent around you in a way you liked. He was mesmerized seeing his cum still dripping from your core as you fussed in your blankets 
But something wasn’t entirely right, you poked your head up over the mountain of blankets and stared at the three other alphas watching you with interest, “More please.” You begged sweetly. 
They didn’t hesitate for a second, they shed their armor off with practiced skill as they went to remove their shirts and under clothes leaving them in their black briefs. You sighed contently plucking the garments from their willing hands and started getting to work. 
“What now?” Wrecker asked watching you curiously from his spot across the room. 
“Just let her do her thing.” Crosshair threw the sheets over himself and settle back into the cot throwing an arm over his eyes content with letting you allow your instincts to run its course.
You fussed, and fussed, and fussed until the smells were finally right. Then you settled down into the pile totally content. The burning was dulled, you were covered in alpha, your nest was just right and the stretch in your cunt was making you purr in delight. Everything was perfect. 
Crosshair nodded off finally able to enjoy the quiet now that the omega had been satiated. Wrecker and Hunter decided to bring their mattresses in to the room and arrange them on the floor so they had a place to lounge. Tech continued to check your vitals every few minutes and covered you with another blanket while you napped. He noted you were probably exhausted from not being able to sleep for the past day and a half. 
Later, Hunter came into the room with food, stepping over his brothers before reaching your sacred little nest, he knelt down and ran his fingers gently over your ankle rousing you from sleep. 
You sighed and yawned looking up at the pretty alpha kneeling over you. 
“Are you hungry Ad’ika?” He whispered trying not to disturb the other’s sleep. You nodded and sat up letting the eldest enter into your space. 
He very carefully crawled next to you setting the plate in your lap. You eagerly forked down the warmed rations and followed up with more water. When finished you pushed the plate away and crawled into his lap straddling him like you had earlier the day before. 
“Y/N.” He crooned running his fingers over your face gently. You smiled and pressed harder into his lap happy to feel his hard length beneath you. You rubbed up against him again spreading your scent along his skin and taking his on too. That familiar fire started to ignite again. 
He let you scent him to your desire. This alpha was always trying to please you, you noticed. You nudged your nose under his chin feeling his scruff. You licked his neck tasting him making him shiver. His hands went to your back on instinct grabbing your hips to guide you as you ground down against him.
“Alpha.” You kissed his neck feeling his heart start to accelerate, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” You sighed. 
He looked down at you with lust blown eyes, “Fuck lil‘mega.”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you after Crait.” You confessed. You didn’t know if it was your heat laden brain making you confess, or if it was really you who wanted him to know in this moment, “After they forced us apart, all I could think about was your touch, and your scent. I would touch myself and use those toys pretending it was you.” You purred feeling him explore your naked writhing body. 
He suddenly pulled back looking at your flushed face and blown eyes. For a moment you thought you displeased him, but he reached out and grasped your neck bringing you towards his lips. 
When he pressed his to yours, you melted. His lips were so soft and his kiss was passionate. You could feel the months of pining behind it as he deepened the kiss. Your hands flew up to his long hair as you ran your fingers through the chocolate strands. You felt him buck up into you making you mewl. 
Then you were on your back. The Sargent pushed you into the plush blankets and shoved his briefs down before running his cock through your slick folds. 
“I could have killed them for taking you from me.” He growled pushing the tip into your weeping entrance. You gasped at the stretch, “Wanted you so bad ‘mega.” He trust in until he was flush with you, “Could’ve had you like this on my cock instead.” He leaned forwards nuzzling your mating gland and the same place he had cut the implant from you all those moons ago. 
He growled licking at the gland filing his hyper sensitive senses with your pheromones. You moaned as he started to thrust powerfully. You could feel his honed strength with every movement. You trilled as you felt his entire body moved in order to pleasure you. 
“Fuck alpha.” You whined feeling yourself start to near the edge. 
“Everyone’s trying to take you from me.” He growled possessively, “Commander Wolf dreamed of having you like this little ‘mega.” He nibbled lightly at your gland making your entire body rush with excitement, “But little did he know, you’re ours Mesh’la. Our omega.” He teased his incisors along your gland possessively like he was fighting with himself. 
You bared your neck trying to entice him to do it. Hunter had to dig his own nails into his hand to stop himself, you were just too precious, offering yourself up like that to him. It was killing him not to just seal the deal and sink his teeth into you and claim you, but he knew his brothers would never forgive him, and neither would he. Instead he continued to kiss the spot despite your squirming. 
“Such a good girl.” He crooned, “Taking Tech and Crosshair like a good little omega.” He felt you clamp down on him thinking about how both clones had had their way with you. You remembered seeing the lust filled eyes of Hunter and Wrecker watching you while stroking themselves to release. 
You cried out as your orgasm suddenly washed over you. You scrambled against Hunter scratching his chest with your nails trying to wriggle away from the overstimulation. He reached down to grab your neck into his calloused hand and flipped the two of you over so you were on top of him. He held your hip with his other hand as he thrusted up into you with force. You couldn’t help but cry out as he pounded you relentlessly. 
You were certain the others were stirring at your sudden noise but you didn’t care. 
The sound of your core squelching with every single merciless thrust threw you over the edge violently and you came again with a cry as a gush of wetness coated both you and Hunter. 
You collapsed on top of his chest he came with a groan as well. You heaved and twitched feeling the two of you lock together. 
“Cyar’ika, did you just…” Hunter held onto you as he tried to look down at where you were connected still. You just nodded hiding your face in his neck. If you weren’t so blissed out you’d be embarrassed… you’d never done that before. 
“Holy shit.” He smirked pressing a kiss to your forehead as you dozed off on his warm chest. The Sargent lightly massaged your scalp holding you close to him as you fell back asleep to the sound of his heart beating. 
~~~
When you woke the next morning Hunter must have maneuvered you to his side and curled you into his arms. You whimpered suddenly feeling hot again. 
“Pip?” Wrecker’s sleep raspy voice cropped up from the corner. 
You wriggled against Hunter causing the Alpha to wake up. He immediately scented your pained arousal and sat up looking down at you. Your eyes were nearly black as you pawed at his chest. 
“I know Mesh’la.” His groggy voice made a puddle of slick form between your messy thighs. He kicked off the blankets and rolled you over onto your belly before raising your hips up for him. He blinked a few times forcing the sleep from his eyes as he lined you up. 
As he sunk in, you let out a desperate cry as you rutted back against him with ferocity. He snarled grabbing your hips in a bruising grip pulling you back onto him. 
“M-More alpha please.” You moaned. Hunter sped up his thrusts forcing you to skid up the nest. 
You pushed back against him and gave Wrecker a wanton look. The giant kneed his way over to the two of you entering the nest and settling in front of you. You wasted no time shoving his boxers down to pull out his hardening cock. It was massive, just like the clone. You realized when they enhanced his size they must have enhanced everything. Your mouth watered at the challenge. 
“Easy omega.” Wrecker petted your head with a gentleness you weren’t expecting, “Don’t hurt yourself.” 
You ignored him and opened your mouth to take him. You struggled, that was an understatement. He was far larger than you had ever taken. You shoved him into your mouth making him roar as you forced yourself to swallow him as best as you could. Determined, you allowed Hunter’s rough thrusts to rock you back and forth against Wrecker making him moan loudly. You ignored all of the reflexes in your throat and ran your tongue along the bottom of his shaft using your hands to massage what your mouth couldn’t reach.  
To your left you could hear Crosshair and Tech stir in the darkness. They no doubt heard Wrecker’s exclamations.
You pulled yourself off of Wrecker with a gasp feeling a dribble of spit drip down your chin, 
“Cross.” You whined waving your free hand around. He was quick to be by your side and guided your hand to where you wanted. You moaned as Hunter hit a particularly good spot before you slid Crosshair into your sloppy mouth. You were stroking Wrecker while you sucked on Crosshair making the Sniper inhale suddenly. You literally knocked the breath out of him. 
Around Crosshair’s cock you whined, “Tech!” 
You felt Tech’s distinct hands touch your leg before trailing them upwards to your breasts giving you a good squeeze before he pinched your hardened nipples making you yelp around Wrecker’s thick cock. 
This only spurred on your desperate frenzy, you couldn’t get enough of them and finally having all of them… it was sending you into the deepest most feral parts of your omega brain.
Then you felt a shift in the blankets under you, when you finally pulled back to look down, you noticed Tech laying down before you with his head between your legs. He grabbed your thighs before nudging his way under you, like he does to the ship’s console, to lick a thick stripe on your clit. 
You howled feeling Tech latch onto your clit sucking while Hunter pounded you from behind. 
“Fuck!” You screamed unable to help yourself from grinding down on Tech face. He just growled and grabbed your hips pulling you down harder. 
“You gonna come Adi’ka?” Crosshair grabbed your hair yanking you off of him. You nodded vigorously showing him how messy your face had become. 
“Tech, switch.” Hunter commanded pulling out of you with a wet squelch. 
You whined suddenly feeling empty and your climax coming to a halt you let out a frustrated huff. You didn’t miss the way Crosshair smirked at your disappointment. He gave you a patronizing pet to the head before you felt Tech slide inside taking Hunter’s spot. 
You whimpered when he picked up where Hunter left off. It wasn’t long before you felt Hunter’s nose nudge your little bundle of nerves and you were left grinding down on him too. You returned to sucking off Crosshair and Wrecker with vigor determined to make them cum. 
Tech hit that same good spot and you were suddenly clenching down on him as you were thrown over the edge. Tech grunted as he came, pumping you full of him. However, he quickly pulled out before he could knot you, giving a signal to Hunter and he too stopped what he was doing to sit up. 
Confused, and desperate for a knot, you let go of Crosshair and Wrecker and spun around shoving Hunter down onto his back. He hit the floor with a thud forgetting you knew how to pin him after those lessons on Kashyyyk. He realized you weren’t holding back this time.
You growled and crawled over him pinning him under you before mounting him. 
“Fiesty little thing.” Hunter let you ride him with amusement as he felt Tech’s cum start to leak out of you. 
“She wants that knot, huh Mesh’la?” Crosshair teased. 
You just snarled and dug your nails into Hunter’s chest determined to get his knot. How could Tech do that to you, you could cry from how empty you were feeling despite having Hunter inside you. 
Crosshair walked around to face you again, this time you were eye level with his glistening flushed cock. You leaned forwards taking him in your mouth again and reached around to fist Wrecker with more vigor then you had before. 
You eyed Tech as he watched you with a smirk from the corner of your nest. That bastard. He did that on purpose to rile you up.
Wrecker croaked before you felt his hot spend paint your tits. 
“Oh fuck Mesh’la.” He sighed at the site. 
Crosshair was quick to follow, you felt him start to twitch in your mouth and you started to double down on your sucking but he pulled out suddenly too, leaving you to chase after him. He grabbed your little neck stopping you in his big strong hands as he jerked off adding his cum to your chest as well. You mewled continuing to bounce up and down on Hunter feeling yourself near your second climax. 
Hunter felt you fluttering around him and he reached forwards using his thumb to rub your clit sending you over the edge once again. This time, when he came he didn’t leave you. When you finally felt his knot lock inside you, you screamed in victory and another harsh orgasm hit you hard. 
“Kriffing hell.” Hunter winced feeling how hard you convulsed around his knot. 
You were sated and thoroughly fucked. You wavered slightly on Hunter’s lap as Tech left to grab a damp towel. 
“You okay Mesh’la?” Hunter asked sounding concerned. 
You gave him a lazy nod using his chest to keep you upright. 
Tech returned walking up to you to wipe away the evidence of his brothers. Once you were clean enough, you flopped forwards back onto Hunter’s scratched up and welting chest. 
“I need to hear you say it baby.” He whispered pushing your tangled hair out of your face. 
You mumbled into his skin, “I’m okay, just tired.” 
Crosshair left to get your breakfast and more water. 
You ate without a fuss and drank the water diligently, still seated on Hunter. The Sargent gently stroked your sides affectionately as Tech took the mug from your hands. Crosshair left the empty tray by the door before walking back to the nest. 
He gave you a sharp spank to the ass making you yelp and jump on Hunter, the both of you groaned feeling the tug. Crosshair drove into the pile of blankets with a playful smirk on his face. He liked toying with you, you realized. 
“Play nice Cross.” Hunter grunted adjusting you slightly to make it more comfortable. 
The sniper just laid back in your space ogling your body. You flushed under his attention. For some reason this felt a lot more intimate. 
“Mmm.” Hunter rubbed your hipbones, “She likes you watching her.” He felt your insides flutter and he heard your heart start to race. You looked down at him embarrassed. He just smiled reaching up to massage your tits making you preen forgetting the sniper’s intense eyes. 
Hunter’s knot went down and you were finally free to leave his soaked lap. 
“Can I have a shower?” You asked suddenly a little shy about how much cum you were covered in. 
“C’mere Mesh’la.” Wrecker held out his hands which you took. You giggled at the size difference as he pulled you up and off of Hunter. You blushed bright red feeling the Sargent’s cum ooze out of you and down your thigh. It was a lot, you realized it was probably Tech too. You caught a glimpse of his lustful gaze when Wrecked picked you up with ease and carried you to the fresher. 
After the Wolffe incident, Tech had finally agreed to refresh the water supply on the Marauder and you were so thankful. 
Wrecker set you down and turned on the warm water. You held onto him as the two of you stepped inside letting the water cascade over you. 
“You’re so pretty Pip.” Wrecker’s sweet eyes looked you up and down in admiration. 
“Thank you alpha.” You pushed yourself into him letting him wash you with his big hands. You felt so small in his presence. You quickly realized how much of a turn on that was. You moaned as his hands massaged the soap into your aching muscles. He chuckled liking your reaction. You stepped back under the stream of water washing all the grime and soap off of you. You then turned to Wrecker who was watching you carefully. 
“Wreck…” You sighed bringing your hand up to his cheek. He leaned into your small palm, “I need you.” 
He was making the heat return back to your core. 
“B-but…” He shook his head, “I don’t want to hurt you Adi’ka.” 
“You won’t Wreck.” You were feeling hazey. 
“Are you sure?” He was wary. He knew he was larger than most human men. 
You nodded and turned around eagerly facing the wall letting the water pour over back you as you stuck your ass out for him. 
He stepped closer grabbing your hips giving them a little squeeze before running his finger through your dripping folds brushing up against your clit. You moaned and swayed your hips as he continued to prod at your used hole. He pushed a finger in with ease and you quickly realized just how big Wrecker really was. Your insides fluttered in excitement as he added a second then a third. The third was a stretch but you were loving every second of it. 
Then he pulled out his fingers and gripped his leaking cock running it through your folds. He very carefully pushed forwards letting this tip enter slowly first so you know just how big he really is. 
You mewled at the delicious stretch thankful that you had been stretched by Hunter right before this. He pushed further in and you were giddy, his normal size was nearly as big as the other’s knots. When he went as far as he could before hitting your cervix, you were panting heavily relaxing all your muscles to take him comfortably. You were filled to the absolute brim. 
“Doing so good omega.” He praised, making you clench around him pathetically. 
“Mmmm,” He moaned and started to move oh so gently. 
You could’t believe how perfectly full you felt. You reached down feeling your belly bulge just slightly from Wrecker rearranging your guts. 
“Fuck Wrek!” You whined as he started to move a little faster. You braced yourself against the fresher wall as the giant alpha pounded you from behind. 
You were a blubbering mess feeling your knees start to go weak as the pleasure washed over you. 
He laughed and pulled out leaving you feeling incredibly empty. He flipped you around and picked up both of your thighs effortlessly heaving you up into the air. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he lined you up and sank you down onto his cock again. 
You let out a loud whine as Wrecker fucked you onto his cock like you were his personal cocksleeve. 
“So pretty pip.” He leaned forwards kissing your flushed cheek as you struggled to hold onto him. You knew he’d never drop you, but the thrill was making your entire body shake. 
“I’m gonna cum!” You gasped feeling your muscles start to contract. 
He nipped at your neck and you came with a scream. For the second time in your life, you squirted all over Wrecker’s cock feeling yourself go limp with exhaustion. 
He chuckled triumphantly before following close after you. You felt Wrecker lift you slightly just keeping his tip inside as he came avoiding his swelling base. 
“The-the others made me promise not to knot you.” He sloppily pressed kisses to your flushed face, “Don’t wanna hurt our girl.” 
You shivered. Our… your little omega heart fluttered. The implications of their ownership over you made you tingle with emotions. 
When Wrecker finally pulled you off of him, a gush of your combines release poured from your core. You heard him gasp seeing it before he helped you clean up. He wrapped you in a fresh towel and lead you back to his room and to your nest. You happily curled up against Wrecker letting the others snuggle in, giving you assuring little pets and strokes as they dozed off too. 
~~~
This is how the next few days went. You’d wake up from your naps in a delirium scrambling for the nearest alpha. They’d of course take care of you, fuck you, knot you, feed you, wash you, and repeat. 
You noted that Tech and Crosshair were the most dominant. They liked playing with you, getting you all riled up, sometimes even denying you your orgasms for a bit just to get you to beg for them. They were learning you, trying to figure out what makes you scream. You knew they were the analytical types. They seemed to be cataloguing all the things that make you cum.
Wrecker and Hunter were much more lenient alphas. They just wanted you to feel good and stop your pain. They doted on you the most. Constantly trying to make you comfortable. You fell in love with Wrecker’s strong hands when he’d give you shoulder rubs and little massages and you loved how you could just flop on top of him if you wanted to use him to sleep on. 
Crosshair was by far the most territorial and possessive. He didn’t entirely like to share. You could tell by the way he always started to make it into a bit of a competition, thrusting a little harder, keeping score of who makes you cum more, leaving his marks all over your body.
The entire past five days were a blur. You spent most of it on your back having one mind blowing orgasm after another until the final day of your heat came and you were beyond content with everything that had happened. 
When you finally came out of the delirium you had really come to terms with that had happened, and you couldn’t have been happier. 
That morning, when you woke, the unbearable heat and cramps were finally gone and all you could feel was how badly your muscles ached. You felt thoroughly used. 
Rolling onto your back, you stretched your arms up feeling every abused muscle and had to bite back a yelp. The others were still sound asleep when you rolled to your side. You sat up looking at the four alphas curled up in your nest in various states of rest. 
They struggled to fit, but it made your heart happy. 
Wanting some cuddles, you crawled over Tech and nudged in next to Hunter where you leaned down to nuzzle your head under his heavy arm. 
In his sleep, he wrapped his arm around you and hauled you up onto his chest before sighing and slipping back into deep sleep. You too let out a content breath and settled in resting your hand over his steady heart. 
You had nearly forgotten you were still stuck on Mimban… that was until Echo came flying into the room disrupting the piece. When the door slid open the others shielded their eyes from the interior lights to see what had disturbed their rest. 
“Get up.” Echo commanded.
“What’s going on?” Tech asked shoving his glasses back on. 
“Theres… people here.” Echo whispered keeping a hand on his side holster. 
The others quickly got up, leaving you in the nest, as they scrambled to get dressed and find their weapons and investigate. 
“Stay here omega.” Hunter ordered grabbing his helmet and following after Echo. 
Tech gave your shoulder a little squeeze before trialing after the Sargent leaving you alone in the now dark room. 
You anxiety started to spike as your scrambled to find your clothes. 
~~~
Hunter blinked the sleep from his eyes willing himself to wake up, “What’s going on?” 
“I was fixing the last few pieces of the hyperdrive when I saw their man up on that hill.” Echo handed Hunter his scope and pointed in the direction the scout was seen. 
When hunter peered down the scope his stomach sank. There was a war party watching them. Their leader sat atop a horse like creature with skin as red as human blood. He had beady eyes and a strange scale like texture to his skin. They seemed to be staring right at the Marauder, and his unit. 
“How long have they been watching us?” Hunter asked. 
“Not sure.” Echo admitted. 
“Are they hostile?” Crosshair peered down his riffle scope. 
“It appears in my records of Mimban, the Mimbanese have been historically friends with republic forces. The GAR had been assigned to assist the local tribes men with keeping separatist forces off of their planet’s territory and airspace.” Tech informed. 
“So they’re friends?” Wrecker asked. 
“Then why did they bring a war party?” Crosshair hissed.
They watched the leader wave his arm in the air signaling the other riders to follow him as he started making his way down the barren hillside. 
“They’re coming.” Hunter said getting into a defensive position. The others followed in suit crouching behind the mountain of clay they had dug out days ago. 
They watched the war party near, they had riffles strapped across their bellies and decorative grasses making up their clothing. The six legged horses galloped through the clay earth with ease. Very quickly the Marauder was surrounded by these observing humanoids. 
The leader guided his horse to pace back and forth while he analyzed the five clones. 
He then spoke in a loud booming voice. The language was strange and nothing like any of them had ever heard. Tech very quickly got to work translating the alien language. 
“He’s asking who our leader is.” Tech read through his helmet screen.
Hunter stood up taking off his helmet, “Tell him I am.” 
Tech translated roughly trying to mimic their accent to the best of his ability. The clan leader responded with a gesture to the ship. 
“He’s asking who we are and what has happened here.” 
Hunter gestured to the ship then his men, “We crash landed sixteen days ago. We’re trying to fix our ship to leave but we need some replacement parts for our engine, we’re with the Grand Army of the Republic.” 
The clan leader narrowed his eyes looking at Hunter. 
Hunter looked to his men, “Take off your helmets.” 
They quickly disengaged their helmets and showed the leader their unique faces. 
“Clones?” He asked pointing between them.
“Defective.” Hunter replied, “We’re a special unit. We were supposed to deliver a message from Kashyyyk to Coruscant when we were shot down.” 
The clan leader responded, “We have fought along side your warriors before. We will help you, as you have helped us.” 
Hunter nodded in agreement. So they were friends. 
Just as Hunter was starting to relax, he heard the clan leader make a surprised noise, then the others made a similar sound. He noticed them all looking to their damaged ship and he whipped his head around to see you poking your head from around the hatch opening looking frightened. 
The leader pointed at you and said something aggressively. 
You shrunk back regretting your curiosity. 
Two warriors walked up to the hatch as other Mimbanese suddenly seized Hunter and the others holding them at gunpoint. The clan leader continued to yell as their weapons were taken from them.
“What is he saying?” Hunter tilted his chin up slightly as one of the warriors poked him with the riffle. 
“He wants to know why we’re traveling with a female.” Tech replied in a whisper. 
“She’s-” Hunter gritted. 
They all heard you scream as you were being backed down the galley. You dove to the right trying to hide in your nest hoping the blast doors could barricade you, but the warriors just pushed it open with the strength of a wookie. You whimpered backing up into your pile of blankets. The two red aliens looked down at you cowering and suddenly stopped their pursuit. 
Their eyes widened slightly before they looked at each other and exchanged words. 
Then you were being wrenched from the safety of your nest and dragged thought he ship before being tossed out of the hatch, splatting into the clay earth below. 
“Y/N!” Hunter growled pushing against the strong hands restraining him. 
You sputtered trying to regain your footing when you were once again, being forced into a kneeling position with a gun to the back of your head. 
“Let her go!” Your alphas roared. 
The red aliens exchanged words before their leader slid off of his horse to approach you. You trembled watching him kneel down in front of you. He grabbed your chin roughly forcing you to look at him. 
“They figured out her designation.” Tech informed, “They saw her nest in the ship.” 
The clan leader then poked a spindly finger into your shirt collar wrenching back the fabric to reveal your untouched but inflamed mating gland along with a few love marks Crosshair had left over the past few days. 
You hissed baring your teeth making the clan leader back up and release your shirt. 
He said something else before getting back on his horse. 
Tech whispered, “They’re taking her back to their elders.” 
You were suddenly lifted up into the air as you fought and flailed screaming as they carried you. 
Wrecker acted quickly punching the nearest warrior and used the limp body to throw at a few more. The others quickly fell into action using their close combat skills and knives to ward off the male warriors trying hold them back. They were enraged watching you get manhandled. 
They watched you get hauled up onto the clan leader’s horse sitting in front of him despite trying to fight your way out. The animal reared back with a loud whiny making your alphas stop mid fight as you clung onto the saddle for dear life with a shriek. 
The clan leader spoke again and Tech translated, “She will be cared for until they can get our ship parts.” 
“You cannot take her!” Hunter’s patience was slipping. He watching strangers take his omega from him. He could smell the anger radiating off of his brothers and your distress, “She’s one of us!”
The clan leader shook his head, “This is no place for a female…” 
“You don’t get to decide that.” Crosshair snarled. Tech didn’t translate that. 
“She’s our mate!” Hunter growled, “You cannot separate her from her pack.” 
The leader laughed, “She hasn’t been claimed.” 
Hunter knew he was going to kill this man. He locked eyes with you seeing the fear in them. You looked to Echo who was distressed and to the others who had murder in their gazes. Their anger was evident as they tried to figure out how they could overpower the aliens even though they were desperately outnumbered and out armed.
You screamed when the horse suddenly took off making you bounce around violently. The last thing you saw before the clan leader took off was Hunter and the others swinging their fists trying to get to you as your rode off into the distance.
“Y/N!” Hunter screamed. 
“Alpha!” You cried trying to lock eyes with him again but the clan leader’s body was blocking your view. You tried to jump off but the red alien gripped onto your midsection with such force. You heard him say something but you couldn’t understand. It didn’t matter anyways. You couldn’t get away, not now…
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─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
Taglist:
@substantial-exposure 
@rains-on-kamino 
@minimissmoo 
@z-and-the-batboys 
@aynavaano 
@9902sgirl
@sideofhorny
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venerawrites · 2 days
Note
Aww I love that you write for Kiba! He really doesn't get enough love so thank you! Can I please request headcannons for married and family life with Kiba, Kakashi, Gaara and Neji (with female reader)? Like being married and having children with them? They're my favourites and you write them so, so well. I hope that request is alright, please don't feel pressured to write it if you don't want to. I hope your week is amazing 🫶🏻
author's note: Kiba was one of my first fictional crushes and I totally agree he doesn't get enough love! Thank you so much for this beautiful request! I really hope you enjoy and that so far your week has been good! <3
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➤ Kiba
Kiba as a husband is everything but boring!
During the first year or two, marriage would feel just like your relationship before that - laid back, chill and maybe a bit immature.
He is an amazing partner - he is very affectionate, never fails to make you smile and loves to surprise you.
However, when it comes to taking care of himself, he is like a big baby - I don't really see him doing any chores in the beginning of your relationship and even when he tries, more often than not he either burn or flood the kitchen.
Maybe it was fate or karma of some sorts, but I totally see you with twins or triplets!
If you thought life was crazy, wait till your house is full with hyperactive, unpredictable and loud Inuzukas.
Surprisingly, Kiba actually enjoy his role as a dad - probably because they all take after his personality, and tries to spend as much time with you and the children as possible.
Every time he has a free day, he organises a "family fun day" - more often than not, it is not that fun for you, as you have to run or yell after them to be careful while running/swimming/climbing etc.
While he would never get too much into housework, he will try to help around the house as much as he can, especially once you get back to work. (also, wouldn't do a good job and you would have to clean after his cleaning all the time, but it is the enthusiasm that counts!)
His attitude towards you would remain the same - he is just as in love with you as he was as a teenager, constantly trying to flirt with you with cheesy pick-up lines and smack your bum when you least expect it.
With multiple children, you probably won't have a lot of opportunities for spend time alone or go on dates, but you are both quite comfortable with your chaotic life.
He is definitely the laid-back and fun parent. Sorry, but you are going to have to be the "bad cop" - he can just bring himself to scold or punish your children.
He would often team up with them in order to prank you or his mother. Also, every bad word they learn by the age of six, is definitely his fault. (But hey, is it his fault they can remember every slip up?)
Kiba absolutely wants more children, so you better brace yourself, because I totally see you with another set of twins/triplets... it's these Inuzuka genes, what can I say!
➤ Kakashi
Surprisingly (or not so much since we are talking about Kakashi) your two children came before you got married.
You have been together for years and it worked perfectly, so what would a ring and a signature on a paper change? In the beginning, both of you were of the opinion "why fix something if it isn't broken?" and none of you see the point in marriage.
More or less, you were already acting as spouses - you tried to equally divide the household chores, but since he was working most of the time, you naturally took the role of the carer of the house, while he was the provider.
Once your first child was born, however, Kakashi started to seriously think of a change.
Since being a child, his life has been filled with battles, blood and loss - and he surely did not want for these things to be present in your baby's life.
However, change was hard and while he tortured his mind with ideas about how much happier you are going to be if both of you give up the shinobi life and move somewhere far, far away, he never voiced his thoughts out loud to you.
Kakashi is a very calm and loving dad - it almost come naturally to him, but you would notice something was bothering him, since as a partner he acted a bit more withdrawn.
When your second child was born, this is when he knew for sure he has to step down as a Hokage and retire from the ninja lifestyle once and for all. I imagine at this point, with two kids at home, you were retired as a shinobi.
When he brought the idea of moving in the outskirts of the village, he didn't expect for you to agree so quickly. You knew Kakashi for years, even before you got together, so you knew he really needed this break and detachment in the name of your family.
Once he left the position as a leader of the village, he focused 100% of his attention on you and your children - your oldest was a toddler by that time and while he felt sad because he felt like he missed the first two years of their life, he tried to enjoy every moment and stay grounded in the present.
He also finally decide it is time to propose and make you officially Mrs. Hatake - everything in your life was slowly falling into place and this felt like the only thing missing. (I imagine a small ceremony with both of your children as flower girls/page boys.)
Kakashi as a husband is the same as he was before that - loving, gentle, romantic, sometimes lazy, yet always attentive. The only difference is that he is even more relaxed and probably would pick up a random hobby such as gardening or maybe even writing?
Your have a very idyllic and peaceful life with him, and you wouldn't change it for anything in the world.
➤ Gaara
Married life with Gaara is hard in the beginning.
His work has been his whole life since he was a teenager, so when you finally tied the knot and, a few months later, welcomed your first child, he didn't know how to handle it.
He tried to juggle his job and his new role as a husband and father without any help for the first six months, but failed miserably.
The long hours he spend in the office definitely affected your relationship, especially since you are the one who had to give up your career in order to stay at home and take care of the baby.
There will be a rough period of time during you will be either ignoring each other or fighting with each other. Each of you will be upset, frustrated and annoyed with the other, but will not know how to fix things.
Don't get it wrong - this man loves you to death, but this is all new to him too! And it is especially stressful, since he never had a proper functioning family anyway.
Eventually, one night after another fight, you will sit down on the floor and share (or more likely scream at him) all the pent up frustration and worries you had been keeping inside.
From that moment everything changes.
Gaara would realise he needs to spend more time with his family, so he will probably promote Kankuro to a "shadow Kazekage" or any other title, under which he can replace him in the office some days of the week.
You start communicating more and soon fall in a natural rhythm - he is definitely a man that likes to do everything 50-50 with you, including care of the baby and household chores.
A very gentle and attentive husband - he always listen to your advice and tries his best to keep the spark between you by organising surprise getaway weekends for both of you every so often or by bringing you flowers/gifts when he comes home from work.
I would imagine given his position, he would try to influence to remain at home - he has always been worried about your safety and the potential risk of his enemies targeting you, but since you were now also the mother of his child, his worry slowly turned into a paranoia.
He will respect your decision no matter what, but if you decide to go back to work at some point - he will forget his morals and will abuse his role as a Kazekage in order to arrange some extra security to be around you at all times.
I feel like he will be a very calm dad in the beginning, but the more his children grew, the more nervous he became - babies are easy to manage, but toddlers? Pre-teens? Oh, Kami!
Naturally, he is very anxious about his performance as a parent, so please provide him reassurance every now and then, just so you can ease his mind!
Nevertheless, he is great with your child and they absolutely adore him. If you had a girl, she will totally be daddy's girl. If you had a boy, he would dream one day to grow up like Gaara.
I totally see you guys adopting some family traditions like Sunday dinner, "come-with-dad-to-work" Thursdays or book Fridays.
Gaara is going to be satisfied with one child, two at most (only if they have at least five years difference).
➤ Neji
Neji was made to be a father and a husband!
Raised in a very traditional family, he has been dreaming about becoming a husband and father pretty much from the moment you got together.
I think you would be married for about a year, before your first child is born, during which you will get you own house in the Hyuga compound, arrange its interior and enjoy your life as newlywed couple.
He will never command you or restrict your freedom in any way, but he will definitely influence a lot of your decisions.
For starters, it is expected that you will stop working and become a housewife, as any other woman married into the clan has done before.
I feel Neji loves you enough to respect your wishes if you decide not to do it, but he will still insist being the main provider for your family. (Do not resist him on this one, it is quite important for him!)
That doesn't mean he won't help around the household, especially after your child is born - he is actually very, very good cook and will take care of your dinners at least a few times per week.
As a father, I imagine he is very caring and loving, but will become more strict as they start to grow older. He values fairness and order a lot, so it will for sure reflect in his parenting style.
Your child absolutely adores him though - Neji is definitely their role model and the best teacher. You, on the other hand, will be the more laid-back parent, using any chance to spoil them or treat them with some extra sweets/toys behind Neji's back.
Neji is very confident as a parent, so he won't really have any worries about how you are raising your little one. What worries him, however, is how much less time you are both spending together.
I think once your child reach toddler age, he would start declining more and more missions, so he can stay at home. I also imagine that seeing his growth and commitment to the family, Hiashi would involve him in the leadership of the clan.
He will still find time to organise little dates just for both of you or late midnight walks, when you can enjoy only each other's company.
He would grow more serious and less fun with time, but given how much responsibilities he how stressful his life is, you would try and support him in every decision he makes (even when you are not fully convinced by his reasoning).
Your love would blossom from fun and carefree to mature and responsible. (& tbh I think that is absolutely beautiful!)
Both of you want at least one more child, so I imagine you would get pregnant a two or three years after you gave birth to your first born.
cc artwork: Daniel Clarke
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roughcas · 14 hours
Text
wet dreams
wrio x fem reader smut
you're a mind reader, and you may or may not pretend to be a psychic -- sure committing fraud is bad whatever, but you are doing good. you're giving people hope again! even if its false, its still hope.
no one has quite figured out your ways, why would you ever give it up? reveal your tricks? it's nothing special, some eye contact - some of this - some of that, and you're in their head. revealing your tricks will sell you out completely, "all i have to do is look into your eyes and i'm in your head"? no thanks.
so of course, you've been hired as a consultant to help close more cases for the justice system. throughout the few months and a whole bunch of questionable methods, you've been working with wriothesley a whole bunch.
a few people were gathered in his office celebrating a whopping 50 cases closed in a single month, thanks to you. he seems shy and nervous around you, compared to his normal confident outgoing behaviors. silently breaking the promise you made to yourself, you decide to figure out whats going in his head. you wouldn't profile your friends or colleagues, it's inappropriate and a huge invasion of privacy.
idle chatter filed the room you stood across from, silently waiting for the perfect moment to capture his glimpse. a few seconds, that all. after a few long seconds his eyes fall upon yours gotcha.
"Man, I feel weird being around her right now. I know I'm attracted to her but she probably has a boyfriend. I can't just ask her that, it's weird. Fuck, I can't stop thinking about how she looked last night in my dreams. Perfectly taking my cock, wearing that tiny sexy lingerie. Fingers in her mouth when she whined out for me - shit, can't she read minds or something? Look away look away shit shit shit."
but before he could do so, you shoot him a wink. hearing that shouldn't of made you cross your thighs as much as it did. His face flushed red as he quickly looked away with a look of horror on his face. "Exucse me," and like that he's gone.
slipping out behind him you notice he's walking running his hands through his hair
"monsieur," his heart drops. he knows your voice. awkwardly turning around he stops to look at you offering you a small smile as he mentally runs through his options.
before you can say anything else, you notice his painfully hard erection. "how'd you sleep last night?" the words of poison left your lips offering him a sickly sweet smile.
he didnt know which dropped first, his balls or his heart.
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ivyblossom · 1 day
Text
Still going with this is outrageous and inappropriate love letter to Edmund Pevensie/Narnia fan novel that has already overtaken the word count of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe and is rapidly heading towards lapping it.
I had originally hoped this might be a novella rather than a full on novel, but clearly I hadn't met myself back then. Sweet summer child of one month ago. Self-awareness is a valuable tool.
This is a smutty chapter, which I feel an urge to apologize for, because apparently I have some kind of guilt about that sort of thing. I don't know what that's about, what do I think we're doing here, gardening? I rated it explicit from the start, what do you want, right?
I'm not really a smut writer by nature, that's why everything I write is a slow burn, it takes me that long to work up to that stuff, which I fully acknowledge is valid anyway and doesn't have to have narrative significance, but I can't manage the write it unless I believe in my heart that it is narratively necessary, (see note about guilt above), and then I apologize about it for no reason anyway. But honestly, who cares? Right? I dunno, it's weird that I do this, but here I am. I put myself in this boat, I can't be allowed to feel sorry for myself.
But to be clear, I didn't just show up trying to find a way to make Narnia sluttier, a perfectly reasonable goal but genuinely not mine! I'm not the one who put the god of wine, ecstasy, and orgies in Narnia in the first place, that was C.S. Lewis, I'm just a fanfiction writer standing in front of AO3 asking it to accept her bizarre, canon-respectful Narnia smut that just got so much smuttier. Sorry everyone!
And of course AO3 says, "why are you asking me, just hit post, what is it you think we do here?"
This chapter was also the moment I've personally been waiting for, when one character finally recognizes what I've done to him and what's happening in this story and says, with great gravitas and insight: "—wait, what?" I've been looking forward to that.
Big props to Lucy in this chapter for being the only Pevensie who has a clue, as usual.
Also, I have given Peter Pevensie 90% of all the 1940s slang in this story for some reason, but I stand by that decision, it feels right. Peter is hip to the slang. Pip pip!
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good-beanswrites · 7 months
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My translyrics for Salamander, written out under the cut :D
This one was much more difficult than the last, but I'm still very satisfied with it! 😤 I'm both sad that my version lost a lot of the fun soundplay of the original, and also waaay more impressed with the lyrics and vocals after digging it like this! I tried to keep it balanced between the original and Fuuta's version, though maybe it ended up leaning more toward the cover, idk. Leaving my specific notes in the tags 👍
Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?
"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.
It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.
I want a taste, but all this spice may prove more than I can take, (eh?)
Something's on your mind. So spit it out and tell me, don't waste my time, kay?
I'm hooked on this, pass me a dish.
The way I'm starving here without you -- it's a crime
A spicy treat, put on repeat,
Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!
Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?
"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.
It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.
I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --
Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.
I want a bite, I can't help giving in to this new appetite.
Again, again, I want to be on fire when I get to the end.
We live too fast, we burn to ash,
I never handled spices well and it's a crime.
A spicy treat, put on repeat,
Can I get seconds with the same heat? One more time!
I want to burn bright red
I want to burn bright red
Salamander~ Hot's nice, don't you agree? This pa- passion's fine, see?
"But" isn't what I wanna hear, so say "more" loud and clear.
Tell me I'm not alone in my mind!
Salamander~ Look what's happened to me. This pa- passion's crazy
Tell me I'm not delirious, I'm being serious.
It's heating up all through my mind when I'm with you.
I can't stop anything, although I wouldn't want to stop, oh no --
Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.
I want to leave I want to go, but I can never stop, oh no --
Take a breath, it's best to cool down or you earn yourself a burn.
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buttercup-barf · 2 months
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Hii!! A friend showed me your result for their pizza oc, and I LOVE IT! Could you do mine, please? Her name is Rosemary!
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Absolutely fell in love with this design-Would tip this lovely lady extra just for having such cool hair!
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skyland2703 · 2 days
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…ok so I got inspired <3
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Thesis in the tags
#OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT#Amelia is probably the most jealous person to ever relationship.#but it comes naturally ONLY for Javi. she never got jealous while dating Ollie or any of the previous partners.#but when she started dating javi—something flipped a switch in her and BOI OH BOI DID SHE GET. JEALOUS. OF EVERYTHING.#which kinda sucks because Javi is a music sensation and POPULAR 😭#and she’s Horny. SO. so. SO. horny. like. maybe it’s the Rafkonian biology but if he wakes her up in the middle of the night#saying ‘babe I’m horny’ she just. fucking. would go down on him. then and there.#LIKE SHE WOULD SEE HIM TAKING A PEACEFUL BATH AND GO ‘i wanna fuck you slide over’#and the exhibitionist kink 😭😭 don’t even get me started on that.#Javi was always a mama’s boy so he is THE best at cooking. his mom is even better. (typical desi mom Rina 😭👍🏻)#and so he makes them food. and she does the dishes because his prosthetics don’t let him do watery work good.#Amelia isn’t good with lovey dovey words. Javi is a POET.#HE TOLD HER HE LOVED HER BY WRITING HER A SONG#AND TELLING HER ‘you are the very oxygen i breathe’.#and he waited for her confession for three years 😭 for her to fall in love with him and for her to tell him she loved him#and like#idk man#also she steals all of his clothes.#Javi got vvv annoyed once realising she doesn’t have ANY super loose sweatshirts and comfortable things to wear. not even pyjamas.#(she used to prefer sleeping naked) but ever since she discovered Javi’s oversized hoodies… that fit juuust perfectly. theresno going back.#ever#anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk :D#they’re sooooo in love your honor I cant~#power rangers#power rangers dino fury#amelia jones#Javi garcia#cosmic fury#power rangers cosmic fury#dino fury
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