#if you're reading this i hope it makes you seethe that i didn't give you the attention you wanted. peace and love on planet earth💖

[korrasamibottles]

Gotta say most of my anons being about pasta or weed is extremely on-brand. Let's put some used pasta water in the bong and see what happens.

[zephyrchama]

I hope demons have sayings that sound really weird and messed up to humans, just as there are many diverse sayings across varying human languages that don't always translate easily.

---01

Lucifer looked up warily as you entered his office before breathing a sigh of relief. "I thought you were Mammon, here to give me another headache."

You strided over to his desk to take a peek at what he was working on. It looked boring. "We both know you love your little brother. What could be so bad this time?"

Lucifer buried his eyes in his hands, brushing his hair aside with the tail end of a pen. "He's been gnawing on my toenails all week."

You coughed in surprise, smacking your chest to loosen up the muscles so that clarifying questions could be asked. "What? Why? How?"

"Just general Mammon buffoonery as usual. For some reason he's especially persistent this week."

"I have literally never seen Mammon chewing on toenails..." Your lip curled back in disgust just imagining it. "Has he... done this before?"

"What?" Lucifer narrowed his eyes, puzzled. "Oh." His gaze softened once he realized what was happening and he huffed in amusement. "Mammon hasn't actually been gnawing on my toenails. It means he's getting on my nerves, as you might say."

You clasped your hands together and sighed, letting a wave of relief wash over you. "Please. Just say that next time."

----02

"C'mon, c'mon! If ya move any slower I'm gonna exfoliate Diavolo!"

You were running as fast as you could, despite Mammon being the reason for your tardiness. You didn't have much to lose, but Mammon could be in deep trouble for missing another morning class.

You wheezed and almost ran into him, not realizing he kindly came back to carry you. "Wh..." After a few deep breaths, you choked out your question. "You're gonna what? To Diavolo?"

Mammon thrust his bag in your arms in a rush and picked you up instead. He spoke as he began running, "yeah. He's gonna have my neck if I'm late again!"

"I get that, but is Barbatos gonna make you wash him...? Or...?"

"Wha? Are you still half asleep? Is that why you're runnin' so slow?"

You leaned your head back against his upper arm to stare up at him in frustration. He couldn't ignore your pouty face inches from his own. Mammon's ears grew red. "Knock it off!"

"Tell me what you mean!" you ordered.

Mammon growled and ran even faster. "What do you mean? I'm just tryna get us to class!"

---03

You scooted your seat closer to Leviathan. He perked right up and froze as you approached to whisper in his ear.

"Levi, XYZ."

"W-w-what? Is that a code?"

"No, XYZ. PDQ."

He reached for a pen and began noting the letters down. "P... D... Q... Got it. What's next?"

You shook your head. "No, Levi, your barn door is open."

"What game are we talking about? I haven't picked up Moondrop Basin in a few weeks."

You made a zipping-up motion with your hand. "Your fly!"

"Oh." Leviathan ruffled the back of his hair and swatted the air around his head. "Is it gone now? I didn't see any bugs."

Though reluctant to be so blunt, you were out of euphemisms. "Levi, your pants' zipper is open."

With an "eep!" he turned away to fix his problem. It took a few seconds. In his haste, the zipper kept getting stuck. He was mad when he turned back around, his face colored crimson. "Why didn't you just tell me? Without turning it into... into some game!"

"I did! XYZ, PDQ, That's what we say in the human world! Examine your zipper, quick!"

"That's so dumb!" he seethed, punching his knee. "What a spumid flaming cabbage. Your sayings are so weird."

---04

"Ready for the next one?"

"Hit me," you told Satan.

He grimaced from across the desk, raising his eyes from the paper to look at you in concern. "What? No, I'm not going to do that."

"Not literally, it's a human saying. It means 'give it to me,' or something like that."

"Oh." Satan jotted that down in the margins of his own notes before reading off the next phrase on his list. "This is one of my favorites. It's a colorful saying, but if you're really mad at someone you can call them a snot-cobbling banshee. I like to say this while cursing their next three generations."

You wrote that down. "How often do you use this saying?"

"Not too often. Well, maybe once a week with my brothers. It goes along with this next phrase which implies someone is dangerously stupid. Barbed dingbat."

You nodded. You were truly learning so much on this cultural exchange program.

---05

Asmodeus came into the kitchen as you were preparing dinner and wrapped his arms around your neck. He looked exhausted.

"Careful, I've got a knife, don't want to accidentally nick you," you warned. "What's up? Long day?"

"Like you wouldn't believe." Asmodeus peeped over your shoulder to look at the vegetables you were cutting. "I'm so glad you're home. You know, all day, all I could think about was..."

He proceeded to say some incredibly vulgar things. Detailed depictions of debauchery. Irredeemable acts of indecency that cannot be repeated on this blog. It made you put the knife down in a tizzy.

"Are those more demon idioms?" You snickered awkwardly and wiped your hands on a towel. "I've been learning about your sayings recently. Can't say I've heard those ones yet."

"What? Oh, no." Asmodeus lifted your hand, raising it to his lips to lick a stray fleck of vegetable skin off your fingertip. "These aren't sayings, this is just stuff I've wanted to do all day."

---06

"I could just eat you up."

This was something Beelzebub said often, and something he repeated again today. His hands were occupied with a fresh four-pounder with cheese, but his eyes kept drifting from it to watch you shoot paper balls into a wastebasket.

"You know, humans have the same saying. Isn't that funny?" You bounced up to grab some of the wads on the floor that didn't make it into the basket, to try again.

Beelzebub swallowed the mass in his mouth. "Really?" he asked between bites. "I thought you guys stopped doing cannibalism, mostly."

"Uh." You missed your throw. What should have been an easy shoot bounced off the edge and rolled away from the wastebasket. "Yeah, we did. Just so we're on the same page, you're saying I'm cute, right?"

Beelzebub was concerningly quiet as he chewed.

---07

"Are you on your way back to class?" Belphegor stopped you in the hall. You hadn't even seen him there on the ground, curled up next to a shady pillar.

"Skipping class again?" you asked. "I thought you liked magic theory."

"Maybe," he yawned. "It's too easy sometimes."

Belphegor fished around in his pocket for a second before pulling out a tightly folded-up sheet of paper. He offered it up. "Can you turn this in for me? I don't want my grades dropping over late homework."

"Sure thing, but it might be better to turn it in yourself. I heard Barbatos is doing random checks in all classes this week. He'll notice you missing."

"Nah." Belphegor's head drooped down as he prepared to doze off again. "If you see him, just tell him I'm being flerchen in the garden."

That sounded innocent enough. "Okay. What does that mean?"

"Means I've got the sniffles," he lied.

---08

Barbatos' eyes grew big and he placed a hand over his heart, furthering crumpling Belphegor's homework sheet in the process. He looked around to make sure nobody overheard before leaning in. "I must ask that you never say that again."

Behind him, Diavolo's palm was clasped over his mouth as he struggled not to draw attention with loud guffaws. He had his back to the classroom, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.

"Why not?" You nervously shifted from one foot to another. You'd been had.

"It's not a topic I can explain here. Perhaps you and the Young Master should excuse yourselves for now. I'll come collect you both later."

Barbatos readily escorted you and Diavolo out of the room, shutting the door behind you so that class could begin without interruption.

"I'm just the messenger," you tried to defend yourself. Diavolo's fit of giggles was renewed. He grabbed on to your shoulder for stability while doubled over, trying to ride out the laughter.

"Did... did Belphegor tell you to say that?" He wiped a tear running down his face. You furiously nodded.

"Haha! Do you remember where he's hiding? I'd sure like to have a word with him."

You couldn't tell if Diavolo was going to praise Belphegor or tear him a new one. Perhaps a mix of both. However, the curiosity over what you said was overwhelming. You wanted to know the full extent of what it meant before seeing Belphegor again.

You decided to bargain with the prince. "I'll show you, but first you have to tell me what that means."

[punkshort]

In Another Life | Part III

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader (time travel au)

Chapter Summary: It's your last day together with Marcus and you're going to make it count.

Chapter Warnings: language, SO much angst, fluff, smut (18+ MDNI), unprotected piv sex, food consumption, time travel?

WC: 6.3K

A/N: thank you @txtattoostark for beta'ing ❤️

Series Masterlist

Time stood still when you looked at your phone the following morning, you were certain of it.

The mighty General shall be out of your hair b4 you know it.

The words left a pit in your stomach, making you feel sick. How didn't you think this through? What happened between you was fast, sure, but not one time the night before did you pause to think how hurt you were going to be when Marcus left.

It wasn't like he was going to a different state or country. He would be gone for good. Never again would you know the feel of his lips or hear the deep rumble of his voice.

"Good morning," Marcus said from behind you, slipping his arms around your waist while you cooked eggs for breakfast. You flipped your phone over and turned around in his arms, pressing a firm kiss to his lips that lingered to the point where the eggs burned a little, but it was worth it.

You hadn't checked your phone until he went to the bathroom to wash up and you had breakfast underway, but you had already decided not to tell him. If you didn't speak it into existence, then maybe it wasn't real.

"Good morning," you said shyly, giving him one last quick peck on the lips before scooping eggs and sausage onto plates for you both.

"Was your superior quite angry with you?" he asked while he attempted to help you with the toast but ended up burning his fingertips.

You shook your head and picked up both plates to take to your small kitchen table.

"Nah, I never call in sick," you told him with a smile. "Besides the park, what did you want to see today?"

He settled next to you at the table, one hand dropping casually to rest on your leg while he picked up his fork with the other. "To me it does not matter, so long as it is with you."

You grinned and felt your cheeks warm. "You know, you said you didn't have much experience with romance in your life but you could have fooled me. Every word you say is romantic."

He chuckled and dropped his gaze to his plate, feeling a bit shy. "Does simply wishing to spend time with a lover make one a romantic?"

You shrugged and nodded. "Kind of. At least, in my experience."

Marcus hummed and leaned over to press a kiss against your temple. "We must change that, my lady."

"Oh, yeah?" you replied, turning to lock your lips with his. His grip on your thigh tightened when he heard the little noise escape from the back of your throat and you squirmed in your seat. "Well, you've changed a lot, already," you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He grinned and leaned forward to chase your lips, making you giggle and toss your arms around his neck.

Before you even had a chance to register the noise, the front door unlocked and swung open.

"Morning! Why are you still - oh, gross," Danny said when he turned from closing the door and saw the two of you intertwined.

Marcus withdrew his arms from around you and stood solemnly with his hands clasped in front of him.

"Daniel, I apologize," he said, his voice deep. "Courtesy demands I request permission from a lady's father, or in this case, closest living male relative, before pursuing her. I hope you can forgive me for my transgression." Marcus bowed his head and you quickly stood up, waving your hands in between them.

"No, no, no, you do not need my little brother's permission, Marcus," you told him. Danny folded his arms together and stifled a laugh.

"I don't know, Sis, I think he's onto something. Maybe if more guys went through me, you wouldn't be left on read so much."

"Shut up, Danny!" you seethed, fists clenched at your sides.

Marcus just looked back and forth between you, trying to keep up.

"I'm just kidding! Marcus, it's totally fine," Danny said, clapping him on the shoulder before slipping into the kitchen for your leftovers. "If you really want to spend your last day in the twentieth century with my sister, don't let me stop you. I mean, personally, I would have picked the girl who works at the Java Hut, or maybe the one at the comic book store..."

Both of you tuned him out when Marcus absorbed what he said.

"My... last day?" he questioned. You swallowed and nodded.

"He texted me last night but I didn't see it til you were in the shower," you said quietly, gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you."

"Oh," he said softly, eyebrows pinching together in thought. And just like that, the fun, playful mood between the two of you vanished only to be replaced with despair.

"We can still do exactly what we said we would do," you assured him while Danny kept talking to himself in the kitchen, adding to the long list of people he would rather spend his last day with other than you.

"Of course," Marcus replied, but you could see the distant look in his eye. It was probably the same one you had when you first read Danny's text.

"Let's just... enjoy what time we have left."

He nodded and inhaled sharply, avoiding your eye while he processed everything he had just learned, both of you too nervous to say what you really wanted to say.

"Why aren't you working?" Danny asked, emerging from the kitchen with a piece of buttered toast.

"I called in sick."

He nodded, not even questioning it before heading to his room. "I'm gonna get some shut eye and head back over to Lizard's later. Gotta run a few diagnostic tests before we send you home, General."

His words were like taking a bullet. Appetite suddenly gone, you sunk down into your chair and tried not to let your emotions show but he must have sensed it because Marcus was sitting down next to you with one arm around your shoulders and the other on your thigh.

"We still have today, cor mea."

You sniffled and leaned into his shoulder, hiding your face against his neck. "You said that yesterday, too. What does it mean?"

You felt his lips on the top of your head before he answered.

"It means, my heart."

Tears stung your eyes so you quickly closed them, doing your very best to remember everything about that moment. The way he smelled, all fresh from his shower, the roughness of his hand against your skin, the sound of his heart beating soundly in his broad chest.

Don't go, you wanted to beg. Please stay with me. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Was it ridiculous to want a man you just met to leave everything behind and stay with you? In a world he knew nothing about? Even if you did ask and by some miracle he agreed, would you be able to make him happy? Would this world make him happy?

No, you couldn't ask that of him. He had a whole life waiting for him in Ancient Rome.

You took a deep breath and reluctantly extracted yourself from his arms.

"Okay," you said, quickly swiping at your eye. "Let's go check out the park and once we're done, we'll see what else you want to do."

He nodded, helping you clean up from breakfast while pretending not to notice how red your eyes looked, but by the time you were both ready to leave your apartment, you had collected yourself. You refused to spend your last day together wallowing in misery.

You were going to make sure it was perfect.

"This place is magnificent," Marcus said breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes away from the rich greenery surrounding you while dodging tourists laughing and posing for pictures. Nearby, bicyclists and joggers zipped by and dogs barked, pulling at their leashes to get at one another while their owners struggled to rein them in but as far as the two of you were concerned, you were the only ones there.

"C'mon, this way," you said, looping your arm with his and leading him off a different path. The smile was permanently stretched across his face the entire time, especially when you had to come to an unexpected stop so a carriage led by a massive Clydesdale could pass by on the trail.

"That horse looks double the size of the horses back home," he remarked in awe when you resumed walking.

"There's all sorts of different breeds," you explained, "we'll probably see a few more before we leave."

You could hear water trickling and you grinned when you looked up at him. "Almost there."

When you finally emerged from your shaded trail to view the massive fountain, Marcus couldn't believe his eyes. He skid to a stop and just stared in wonder at the shallow water surrounded by people eating lunch, families taking pictures, couples sitting close together and children running and playing. Slowly, his gaze drifted around the wide open space, taking in every feature, every flower, every stunning piece of architecture until you finally tugged on his elbow.

"It's called the Bethesda Fountain," you said, pointing to the statue in the middle. "It's an angel, see?"

He nodded, eyes wide with wonder. "She is... beautiful," he whispered, looking like he was in complete awe of the stone statue of the angel draped in long robes with widespread wings behind her, looking over the entire park.

"I think she's holding her arm out as a symbol to bless the waters," you told him, pulling him closer so you could read some of the signage.

"This place is wonderful," he told you, twisting around so he didn't miss a thing. "I cannot believe a place like this exists in such a busy and thriving metropolis."

"Yeah, it is really amazing, isn't it?" you replied. You had lived in New York for so long that you realized you had grown numb to some of its wonder, but seeing it through Marcus's eyes felt like you were seeing it for the first time again.

"You are fortunate to live here," he said, finally looking down at you. "I have never seen a place so grand and spectacular in all my life."

You grinned and stretched up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss. "Looks a lot better with you here," you said with a wink, and you swore you saw his face flush a bit.

The pair of you found an empty bench and sat down for a while. You leaned your head on his shoulder and he hooked an arm around you as you quietly watched the city pass you by.

"Thank you for sharing this with me," he murmured as he nuzzled the top of your head. You titled your face up to give him a smile.

"I think this is the most fun I've ever had in this city."

He grinned, his eyes crinkling and his one cheek creating a dimple that you found too irresistible not to kiss, so you did.

"Would you like to just spend the day here or do you want to see something else?"

He looked around the park again with a deep sigh and you could feel his body relax against you. "I am content to do anything, so long as it is with you."

You thought about it for a moment before pulling out your phone and tapping away.

"There's a museum not too far from there that has an exhibition on Ancient Rome," you said. His interest was piqued and he squinted down at your phone. "Would you be interested in that? You could teach me something," you told him with a poke to his ribs. He chuckled and shrugged.

"I fear you are too brilliant for me to teach you anything, but I am intrigued."

You giggled and stood up, hauling him to his feet as you began to lead him back the way you came.

"We can grab something quick to eat along the way."

Marcus was very quiet the first ten minutes inside the museum. He silently read the informative plaques on the walls next to replicas of gladiator helmets and broken spears with his hands clasped behind his back and his expression unreadable. He studied maps and watched a video of a historian talking about the rise of the Roman Empire playing on a loop, and all the while you followed him from room to room, reading what he read and trying to see things through his eyes.

He had a proud smile on his face when you came to a room about the technological advancements of the Roman Empire and how it impacted present day. He had just finished reading about the ways Rome impacted the design of modern day roads and bridges when he saw the next display and his smile faltered.

"What is it?" you asked him softly. His eyes flickered back and forth between a photograph of the Colosseum and an NFL stadium with a little blurb underneath comparing the two.

"You still have..." he drifted off and pointed to the stadium. "Your people still fight to the death?"

Your eyes widened and you shook your head furiously, immediately picking up on the tension in his voice.

"Oh, no. No, Marcus. They don't fight, it's a sport. Nobody dies. The stadiums are just built to look like the Colosseum."

He nodded in understanding but you saw the look on his face. Something troubled him and it made your chest ache. You glanced around the room, noticing it was mostly empty, then stepped forward so you stood between him and the display. You wrapped your arms around his middle and rested your chin on his chest, drawing his attention down to you and off the photos.

"What is it?"

He gave you a sad smile and his arms circled your waist.

"There is something I have not told you."

Once again, your eyes flickered around to make sure nobody was close enough to hear before looking back up at him expectantly.

"Daniel and Victor found me because I was fleeing Rome," he said solemnly, and already you could see the shame in his face.

"Why were you fleeing?"

He pressed his lips together tightly before sighing. "I displeased the emperor. I refused to carry out his orders. Orders that would kill thousands of young men simply to make a statement. I could not do it, my love." His hands grew tighter around your middle and you swore you saw tears begin to form but he blinked them away. "As punishment, I was sentenced to become a gladiator. To fight for my life and their entertainment in the arena. So... I fled. I was a coward and I fled."

"You weren't a coward," you whispered, bringing a hand up to stroke his bearded cheek. "You would have died, Marcus. That's not cowardly."

"It was cowardly to not die an honorable death," he argued, but you shook your head.

"It's barbaric and wasteful," you told him. You felt him lean into your touch for comfort. "I'm glad you ran away. If you didn't, I never would have met you."

He couldn't resist. Marcus leaned down and captured your mouth with his, committing the feel of your lips to memory before he had to return home and face his destiny.

"C'mon," you said, stepping away from him and taking his hand in yours with a little smile. "Let's keep looking around."

He didn't let go of your hand after that. You walked together through the rest of the room, reading to yourselves about the architecture of Ancient Rome and how the buildings influenced the White House and the Lincoln Memorial when he stopped dead in his tracks and gawked at the very last photo.

"Is this..." he trailed off, reading the caption before looking at you in shock. "The arena still stands? This image looks to be present day." He pointed to the people standing around the outside of the Colosseum, specifically their clothes and how they looked similar to yours, and you nodded.

"Yeah, it's still there," you told him, wrapping a hand around his bicep as he continued to stare at the picture. "I'm sure it looks different and some of it collapsed with time but it's been maintained and well cared for. It's one of the seven wonders of the world."

He looked at you curiously and you smiled. "It's kind of a big deal," you explained simply.

His fingertips dragged over the glass like he couldn't believe his eyes.

"May we see it before I leave?"

Your face fell and sadness swelled deep in your chest. "No, Marcus, I'm sorry. It's too far away."

He nodded, catching the regret in your eye before dropping the subject and moving on. He would see it soon enough, anyway.

It seemed both of you were determined to keep the rest of your museum visit as light as possible. When you reached the area about art, he told you a story of an artist who created a beautiful portrait of him and presented it to him after winning a huge battle for Rome. With a smile, he told you how pompous he felt when he had it hung in his living space at home but he felt bad not honoring the artist's hard work.

When he excused himself to use the restroom, you sat on a bench and did something you refrained from doing since the moment you met.

You Googled his name.

The cell service was spotty and it took an extra minute, but sure enough his name pulled up some results. You picked the first one, quickly scanning down his multiple military accomplishments until you reached the end. You held your breath as you read the small paragraph, fearful of what you would find out but it was a question that had been plaguing your mind for the past two days and you needed to know.

General Marcus Acacius presumably died in 215 A.D. It was believed he met his demise in battle, however his body was never recovered.

Glancing up to make sure Marcus was still in the bathroom, you shot off a quick text to Danny.

You: What year did you set that time machine when you picked up Marcus?

You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you watched your text slowly go from delivered to read, then three little dots appeared.

Danny: 215 A.D.

You closed your eyes and sniffled before tucking your phone into your pocket.

How could you go through with this now that you knew you were sending him back to certain death?

You did your damndest to not let it bother you, but it was hard. Every time you looked at him you wondered what fate had in store when he returned and the pit in your stomach just got heavier and heavier.

You arrived home to a note from Danny reminding you he had to run diagnostic tests on the machine and he wouldn't be home until late, so you both decided to stay in for dinner on your last night together. Cooking wasn't your strongest skill but you could make a decent pasta. Marcus lingered and tried to help but it was evident he was used to others cooking for him, and that was okay. You didn't mind.

When you each sat down to eat, his left hand falling easily to your leg again as he picked up his fork, you had to bite your tongue from screaming stay, please stay. By the way he was glancing in your direction throughout the meal, you had a feeling he wanted to say something, too, but either didn't know how or was too afraid to pop the bubble you had found yourselves in.

After you ate, Marcus made a move to wash the dishes but you quickly stopped him. The time you had left now was too precious to waste on things like that. You didn't say that, of course, but instead you wrapped his arm around you so you could burrow into his chest. Neither of you said a word. You didn't need to. You could both feel each minute ticking away, bringing you closer and closer to morning. You closed your watery eyes and pressed your ear against his chest, listening to the steady thump, thump, thump of his heart, wishing you could somehow bottle it so you could listen to it when he was long gone and you were all alone.

You wished you knew what to say to make it easier, but you couldn't think of a single thing. You tried to put into words how he made you feel without sounding like a complete psychopath, but you came up empty. So you continued to stand quietly in your kitchen, holding one another close, breathing each other in and trying to savor every single second you had together.

He whispered your name so you forced your eyes open and looked up. His eyes were also shiny with unshed tears and that was all it took for your face to crumple and tears to flow freely down your cheeks. He quickly cupped the back of your head and feverishly pressed his lips against yours as his own tears began to fall. How would you be able to get up and make breakfast in that kitchen without thinking of him? How would you be able to ever wash your sheets for fear of losing his scent? Christ, how on earth would you be able to write that month's article without being institutionalized?

"Marcus," you sobbed before locking your lips together again. It was the desperation in your voice that made him bend his knees, grab the backs of your thighs and wrap your legs around his middle so he could walk you both to your bedroom without breaking the kiss.

With all the care in the world, he delicately removed your clothes until your naked bodies were tangled together in bed, hands roaming over each other's skin as if you were trying to draw a map.

"Do not cry, my sweet girl," he whispered while hooking one of your legs over his forearm. He tipped his head down for just a moment so he could line himself up with your center before focusing back on you. His thumb wiped the tears from your cheek and he gave you a sad smile. "It would be a waste to spend what time we have left crying."

You nodded and took a few deep breaths before wrapping your hand around the back of his neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss right as he sunk himself inside you. He groaned into your mouth and his grip around your leg tightened until his hips became flush with yours.

"Please, allow me to see you, cor mea," he murmured, and you hadn't even realized your eyes squeezed shut. You opened them and stared up at him looking at you like you were his only salvation. The words crawled up your throat and slid down to the tip of your tongue, begging to be said, but you swallowed them back down.

It was too fast. It was all too fast and you didn't have the luxury of time to figure it out. But what you did have was him, in that very moment, and you refused to waste it.

You bucked your hips up slightly, giving him the green light to move, so he did. He went slow. He took his time dragging the heavy length of him in and out while his mouth never left your skin. If he wasn't kissing your lips then he was kissing your jaw, your neck, your shoulders - anywhere he could reach, he left his mark. It was the type of mark that burned your skin and settled deep below the surface, flowing through your veins and directly into your soul. The kind of mark that made you want to say something your brain thought was incredibly foolish but your heart was screaming otherwise.

To distract yourself from your thoughts, you wrapped your arms and legs around him and tilted to your side. He understood what you wanted and rolled the both of you over so you were on top, gasping for air. The new position had him reaching a spot that made you see stars and you needed to take a moment to collect yourself before you began to move.

"Oh, fuck," you whimpered, tilting your head back towards the ceiling and shifting your hips ever so slightly. Marcus grinned up at you, his big hands sliding up your thighs to settle on your hips.

"You are so beautiful like this," he told you softly. You dropped your chin back down to look at him, your entire being vibrating with adoration. "You fit around me so perfectly, my love. Do you feel that?" he asked when his cock pulsed inside of you. Your jaw dropped and you nodded. "That is what you do to me. You make me harder than I ever thought imaginable, yet your beautiful body takes me so well."

The praise made your chest warm. You began to roll your hips slowly, savoring every inch of him inside you with your hands braced on his broad shoulders for support when Marcus groaned and leaned forward to catch your breast in his mouth. The feel of his prickly beard against your skin combined with the way he flicked his tongue over your nipple made your back arch and your face pinch with pleasure.

Without warning, Marcus sat up and wrapped one arm around your waist while the other braced himself on the mattress so he could rock his hips in rhythm with yours. Your mouths hovered over each other as you began to move a little faster, your gasps and pants mingling together in the otherwise quiet room.

You could feel the familiar crest building deep inside you and you tried to fight it. Marcus, ever attentive, quickly figured it out and frowned.

"Let go, my sweet," he ordered, but you shook your head.

"I don't want it to end," you whimpered, forehead falling to rest on his shoulder. His arm squeezed around you tighter and his jaw clenched, desperately trying to hold off until you found your release first.

"I plan on taking you as many times as you will allow tonight," he said, lips brushing against your ear and sending a shiver down your spine. "Please, let go," he urged, grinding his hips up against you. "My only wish is to take care of you."

Your heart rattled in its cage at his words, your body growing weak and melting into his hold, giving into his request far too easily. With a raspy moan that resembled his name, you reached your climax, body shuddering in his lap while he whispered words of encouragement in your ear.

When he felt you relax, he groaned and started to move faster, your slick coating his length more and more with each deep thrust. You tilted your face from your spot on his shoulder to find his lips, your tongue plunging languidly into his mouth while he continued to fuck up into you. You had never felt so at peace than in that moment with Marcus. His presence was everywhere; his arms were wrapped tightly around your middle, pressing your sweaty chests together so close, you could feel his heart beating in time with yours. His spend, thick and sticky, was leaking out of you and down his shaft after he came. He was so warm and strong and powerful that it had your head spinning and your heart aching for more. And that is exactly what he gave you.

Marcus spent the rest of the night worshipping you. He cleaned you in the shower only to make a mess of you half an hour later. He massaged your hips and legs when they grew too shaky and weak. He held you close, lovingly stroking your hair when you needed a break. And when you finally couldn't keep your eyes open any longer, he wrapped you up in his arms and let you fall asleep on his chest, perfectly calm and content for the last time.

But it wasn't enough.

"Are you alright?"

You kept your eyes squeezed shut and you shook your head. Marcus sighed from his place next to your bed and bent down to tilt your chin up, unearthing your face from your pillow.

"Please look at me," he pleaded. You couldn't deny him anything, but especially so given you only had a few hours left, so you opened your eyes and gazed at him mournfully. He gave you a small smile and lovingly stroked your cheek.

"I will never forget this for as long as I live. You have given me something I never felt worthy of," he said softly. Tears instantly stung your eyes and your lip began to quiver.

"Don't," you whispered thickly. His eyes flashed with something you couldn't identify and he eagerly leaned forward.

"What?" he whispered. "Do not what?"

Don't go, don't go, don't go.

You were going to say it. You were going to be selfish and beg him not to go, to stay with you because now that you've had him, you can't imagine a life without him. And you fucking swore by the way he was looking at you that he might actually stay.

With your heart pounding nervously in your chest, you reached out for his hand and opened your mouth just to be interrupted by a sharp knock on your bedroom door.

"You guys in there?" Danny called through the wood. "We're all ready to go here. Lizard's waiting in a tow away zone out front, we gotta jet."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to get up, not catching the disappointed look on Marcus's face. You probably looked like shit, your hair was a mess and you hardly got enough sleep, but you didn't care. You tugged on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood over your head before taking Marcus's hand and opening the door. Danny was waiting, leaning against the wall looking at his phone, when you emerged.

"Fun night?" he asked with a wink. You shoved his shoulder and pulled Marcus down the hallway towards your front door, only pausing to grab his weapons and the clothes he arrived in.

"Did you call into work again?" Danny asked just to cut the unbearable silence that filled Lizard's fifteen year old shitty sedan. You nodded and continued to solemnly stare out the window. Marcus took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze but you were finding it difficult to look at him because if you did, you were certain you would burst into tears.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeated to yourself when you pulled up to the familiar split level, faded green home Lizard grew up in. You took Marcus's hand as you walked behind Danny and Lizard, each heavy step bringing you closer and closer to heartbreak.

"We'll distract his mom, you sneak Marcus down to the basement," Danny told you. You nodded and stared down at the ground, your unusual silence giving your brother pause before he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and turned back around.

"Hey, Mrs. Delio! We're back!" Danny called extra loudly into the house. You quietly snuck in after them while they hurried to the kitchen to stop her from stepping out and seeing you before you could sneak downstairs.

"Are we in a dungeon?" Marcus asked when you turned on the light and he saw the concrete walls and floors with only one small window in the corner of the room. You were about to explain it to him when you spotted the time machine in all it's glory, sitting proudly next to the washer and dryer, and you froze. Marcus felt you stiffen next to him and he turned around only to sadly drop his gaze when he noticed what caught your attention. He twisted your body towards him and took you by both shoulders before taking a deep breath and looking you dead in the eye.

"My love-" he began softly, but then Danny and Lizard came rushing down the stairs. You sniffled and looked away so they wouldn't see how emotional you were, but Marcus pinched your chin and forced your eyes back to him.

"We're all set! She's heading out in a few to play bridge, she won't even notice we're gone til we're back," Lizard said as he began to power up the time machine, completely oblivious. You swallowed thickly, eyes still glued to Marcus and heart thumping so fast that you could hear the blood rushing in your ears.

"You ready, big guy?" Lizard asked excitedly as he opened the door and peeked inside the tiny vessel. Danny cleared his throat and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Give 'em a minute," he said quietly, and for the first time all week you felt thankful for your little brother. Lizard turned around, his eyes bouncing back and forth between you two until it dawned on him. He nodded before taking a few steps away to pretend to look at something on his computer with Danny in order to give you a little privacy.

"My love," Marcus began again, holding both your hands tightly in his. "It is difficult to put into words how I feel," he said, taking in a shaky breath. "I wish I were able to show you, but I do not have any talents. If I were a poet, I would write sonnets of your eyes. If I were a musician, I would write ballads of your laughter. If I could create art, I would sculpt and paint for hours to capture the essence of your beauty. But I am just a man, and my foolish words will have to suffice."

Fat, hot tears began to unabashedly roll down your cheeks and your eyebrows pinched together as you tried to memorize every single second before it was gone.

One tear fell from the corner of his eye and he gave you a sad smile. "I have never felt like this before-" he said, but you stopped him, unable to hold back any longer.

"I love you," you sobbed, not even noticing the way Danny's head snapped to look at you in surprise. "I know it's fast and stupid but I love you and I'm sorry but I couldn't let you go without telling you."

Marcus grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you in for a deep, breathtaking kiss. Both your lips were trembling and your tears were mixing together on your cheeks but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment.

He pulled back and pressed his forehead against yours before whispering, "And I love you, cor mea. You are my sanctuary. I wish to spend the rest of my days cherishing you and making you happy."

"Then stay," you begged, the words finally slipping past your lips with such earnest desperation, your voice cracked. "Please. Stay with me. Please-"

He pulled you in for another urgent kiss but this time, he wrapped both arms around you and pinned you tightly to his chest, pouring every ounce of emotion he had into it.

"Are- are you certain?" he stammered when he finally released your swollen lips. You gazed up at him with bleary eyes and nodded with a wide smile. You could feel his heart beating rapidly under your hand, which was pressed firmly against his chest, and he broke out in a huge grin.

"They couldn't have this conversation before I got a parking ticket this morning?" Lizard muttered to Danny under his breath, but Danny just elbowed him in the side, unable to look away from the two of you with a big smile of his own.

"I never thought I would feel happiness such as this," Marcus whispered in your ear, tears falling freely from both of you but for an entirely different reason now. You giggled into his neck, tugging him even closer, afraid to let him go even though he agreed to stay.

Danny clapped his hands, breaking the two of you up but Marcus still held you protectively against his side and you kept one arm wrapped around his waist when you turned to face your brother.

"So, no time travel today?" he asked, cocking his head to the side with a smirk.

"There is nothing left for me there," Marcus announced, the dread of being a disgraced man on the run or a gladiator becoming a distant memory. "Everything I ever wanted is right here. I apologize to you both for any additional work this has caused."

"No apology necessary," Danny said, squeezing Marcus on the shoulder good-naturedly. Lizard cleared his throat and took a few steps forward. You narrowed your eyes when you saw he was about to speak and quickly cut him off.

"I'll pay for the goddamn parking ticket, Lizard!"

He smiled at you sweetly, pleased he got exactly what he wanted. "So happy for you both, by the way."

You rolled your eyes and looked back up at Marcus.

"Do you want to go home?"

He smiled down at you warmly, his eyes dancing with adoration and happiness before bending forward to brush his lips tenderly over yours.

"Yes, my love. Let us go home."

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[hoshigray]

Having thoughts about Toji crushing on a cutie little cinnamon roll. Maybe they go on a few dates before he finally gets her home with him, and just as things are heating up he realizes oh, she’s a virgin. That doesn’t mean he’s not interested, but it changes how he wants to go about it.

Noonie, yeeeeeeeeessss!!! I had the dumbest grin while reading this in my inbox teheheee~ Longer than I intended but what the hell lol hope you like it!!

Cw: dom! Toji x fem!reader - age gap (the reader is at least in their 20s and in college; Toji is around mid-30s) -missionary position - unprotected sex (PSA: wrap it up, or get the fuck up) - ass grabbing - pussy eating - biting (Toji bites your ears) - edging (fem! receiving) - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, sweetheart, mama, princess) - clitoral play - light comedy bc I do[n't] think I'm funny. Wc: 2k

"Ready, baby?"

Your body goes rigid, fingers playing with the hem of your shirred frilled cami romper. A shaky sigh seethes from a wary smile. "Yes." The man in front of you grins before opening the door to his place, and you enter to your doom.

Toji has been courting you for quite some time. It started with small greetings when he visited the café where you work for his usual order of black coffee. Then those greetings slowly evolved into casual chit-chat, prompting Toji to ask you out because he couldn't resist your kindhearted aura.

How could he when his day instantly brightens when you flash your gorgeous smile every time you see him? Or when you always give him a call or text anytime you return to your dorm after hanging outside campus grounds. And when you're done with work, you let him drive and drop you off at your dorm. But that's because he always stays at the café until you get off: watching you welcome customers who enter the space, offering free treats to kids, or giving him a tiny smile from the other side of the shop whenever you catch him staring. Makes him snicker like an idiot.

But his favorite moment with you was the first time you two kissed on your third date. Oh, Toji could replay the scene all fucking day. With your eyes lidded, lips quivering and gripping onto his leather jacket as the man peppered you in kisses, he adored your display of pleasure. And it was even more adorable when you nervously bid him goodnight before entering your dorm room.

It was entertaining how he was the only one that made you — his cute little darling — so shy whenever he came too close. So much so that it turned him on, his desire to have you under him waxing inside him day by day. Except he doesn't, choosing to wait for the perfect time.

And now, when he finally has you where he's been dying to have you, Toji's allowed to indulge in your charm personally. There are shudders of anticipation around him as he kisses you on the couch, his big hands roaming over your form. A deep chortle vibrates his throat when he bites your bottom lip, resulting in a shivering whimper from your swollen lips. Oh, he's going to enjoy every second of this.

But as someone on the other side of the makeout session, you found yourself in an unpleasant position. Not because you didn't want to be here smacking lips with Toji, oh no. He was a great kisser, taking your breath away simply by his lips. No, the real problem was more personal.

Something so personal that it has your brows trench as Toji's hands snake down to your butt, kneading it like putty. Wait a minute...

"Mmmm, Toji, please wa—"

"Shhhh," he hushes you with kisses down your neck. "Taste so good, angel."

Something very personal that your eyes are towed shut when he creeps a hand inside through the bottom of your romper, a warm palm groping the soft flesh of your ass. Wait, wait, wait!

Something extremely personal that you gasp sharply when you feel two fingers sneak past your panties. WAIT!!!

You push Toji off you in haste, and the older man stops with his hands up defensively. He looks at you with confusion, tilting his head to examine what's wrong. You squeak and throw apologies his way. "I'm so so sorry! I'm-I'm just...umm...."

It takes a few seconds for Toji to piece everything together, with the way you're talking in quiet mumbles, your hands fidgeting with your romper again, and your eyes downward to avoid his gaze. His head straightens with eyes slightly wide. Is...Is she a—

"Are you a virgin, sweetheart?" Another muffled squeak confirms his suspicions, and you nod with hesitance.

What were you thinking pushing him off!? If you're gonna have your first time with anyone, why not be the man you're attracted to? But then again, it is YOUR first time!! In humiliation, you cover your face with your hands, the phone call you had with your best friend earlier replaying in your head ("Get it, girl! You either die a virgin or live long enough to get some good dick in your life." "That's the worst way to reference that movie!" "What-the-fuck-ever, go get that dick!!")

You can hear a chuckle from the man, and your eyes shut as you descend further into embarrassment. Oh God, I should've taken my dumbass home so I didn't have to deal with this later and cry myself to—

Your train of thought grinds to a halt when Toji pulls you into his chest. "Oh c'mere, ya cutie." He rubs circles on your back. "Did my lil' angel save herself up fr' me to deflower?"

"No, you perv!" He barks out a laugh above you, not helping this situation. "I just...I-" You try to retort, but the way he looks at you with a sly look and playful grin has your stomach flip. Why's he so goddamn handsome!? "I was just....never ready."

He hums pensively, still rubbing your back. He stays quiet for a while, and you don't bother fixing that while resting on his chest. He doesn't say anything until a minute later. "Think yr' ready now?"

"I don't know? Kinda scared..." You're honest. "But I...I really wanna do it with you, Toji."

"Then, do ya trust me?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, in that case," Toji carefully pushes you off him before he hoists you up bridal style. The swift motion catching by surprise as you hurriedly wrap your arms around his neck before he starts walking. Amused, he kisses your cheek. "Don't worry a thing, princess. Gonna take care of ya real good."

You gulp as your face goes hot. Oh, I definitely should've stayed my ass home...

Yeah, you definitely should've.

Fifteen minutes in, your senses are already clouded by the lapping motions of Toji's tongue on your vulva. You're lying on his bed, your figure writhing and back arching from the commotion between your legs. You tried to contain yourself by concealing your moans, yet your lips let the pornographic noises fly.

The last fifteen minutes have been spent preparing you for the big event. Toji started by fingering your hole, making you adjust to having a foreign limb within you. When you were wet enough, one digit became two, and you grabbed ahold of his shirt as he did his expert work on your soaking chasm.

Now in your nude, you let the man continue to prep you, his hands holding onto your legs with your pussy out for him to see, for him to toy with his wet muscle between your folds and drinking your essence.

"Ahhhh-Haaaah! T-Tojiii," you look so out of it, your head squirming around the pillow beneath you and your words slurred. You've already come two times; what more does this man need for you to be ready? "Oh God, it's too much fer mee, 's too muuch!"

A sharp cry exits your mouth when the man licks your clitoris, his deep forest green eyes peer up to look at you. He snickers, "C'mon, mama, you know I gotta have my girl ready to take in all of me." He flicks his tongue on your bud, and another yelp escapes your lips. "Lemme finish up here, 'kay?"

And he goes back to finishing you up, his hands grabbing you by the hips to bring you closer to his ravenous mouth. You clutch tufts of his raven hair, and his name comes out in incoherent babbles.

Your eyes start to water as your head gets dizzy with the raunchy noises from down south. Your cold sweat contrasts with your hot bare form, and the throbbing sensation between your legs festers under your skin.

Beads of sweat scroll down your forehead. You're close to release. "Hngg! Toji, I'm gonna cu-cummm!"

Suddenly, Toji removes from your legs, leaving you and your pulsing slits to the substituted cold air. You whine for your neglected orgasm that withers away, propping yourself up to beg him to give you what you want. But your breath hitches before you can make a complaint.

Toji is off his bed, withdrawing his shirt and jeans, freeing his cock from his boxer briefs. You can't help but stare at the member before you. Following the trail of hair from his lower abdomen, his erection sprung up with precum oozing out. Compared to your fingers or toys, his dick is way beyond your comprehension in length and girth.

Oh, to die from the first dick you've ever taken. How poetic.

Toji notices you ogle at his shaft, sneering as he returns to the bed. "Like what ya see, cutie?" You chew on your lip when Toji props your legs around his waist, a hand used to position his shaft to your leaky entrance. "Gonna start real slow, so take some deep breaths fr' me, 'kay baby?" You nod, internally bracing yourself for what's about happen.

The head of his cock touches your slit, and you jolt. "Relax, baby. It's gonna hurt if you're tense like that." He coaxes, your breathing securing you from the intrusion. He watches you; with each exhale, he pushes himself. The unfamiliar limb prying in your vagina and the pain you're experiencing is like no other. But you bite down on your lip to push through.

When the tip makes it in, you gasp. Gradually, Toji pushes his member further into you, stretching your tight hole to accommodate his girth. You try to compose yourself with even breaths, but you shriek when you feel his length brush against your G-spot. When the base kisses your cunt, Toji gives you a few minutes to adapt to him. "How ya feelin'?"

"So full..." You look at him with brows scrunched, eyes hooded, and tears streaming down your pretty face.

"Hmm, I bet." He wipes your tears with the rough pads of his fingers before slowly thrusting into you. You grip his shoulders for support, your pussy tightening around his length while your legs cage him. "Oooooh, Christ, you're so tight, mama. Drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

And you're about to be driven crazier when his hips pick up the pace, his dick hitting your sweet spots with precision. It's so surreal finally experiencing your first time, especially with Toji. Maybe it's because he's older and more experienced, but whatever expectations you had up until this point have been blown out of the water. The slap of his pelvis on your slick-coated folds fills his room, his throaty groans sound way too good to the ears, and his hot kisses on your lips make you melt. It all feels so electrifying.

Just when you thought you were undergoing it all, Toji slithers a hand down to your clitoris and swipes up and down on the pearl with his thumb. A choked sob leaves puffy lips, "T-Toji, I'm so close. Please, please, please, let me—Oh God."

"Hnnmph, oh shit—" He's close, too. He bends down to nibble on your ear yet licks the pain away. "I know, sweetheart. Come on me." His thrusts then go faster, a merciless tempo you were unprepared for. Shrieks go higher as your orgasm climbs up, and it hits you hard when Toji's fingers play with your clit again. Your climax sends shivers up your spine, your tender walls pulsating on Toji's cock.

And the older man pulls his dick out of your sensitive cunt, letting his come spill onto your stomach. It looked so lewd yet deliciously attractive, especially with him heaving on top of you with his black bangs sticking to his forehead.

When you two calm down, Toji scans your disheveled appearance and chuckles. "Damn, yr' gonna have me addicted to ya, princess." Your stomach was wiped off with a towel that Toji had on hand as you giggled aimlessly.

"Wanna go again?"

"......yes?" You avoid eye contact and turn away bashfully. He chortles and kisses your cheek once more.

"So fuckin' cute."

[reiderwriter]

Hating You Is The Easiest Thing I Can Do

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: When your boss pulls your case out from under you and gives it right to the BAU, you're pissed. You're even more pissed when Doctor Spencer Reid suggests you can't do your job properly. After a week in his company, you decide to give him a piece of your mind

Warnings: Day One of Kinktober - Hate Sex, enemies to lovers, dom/sub, Mean!Dom!Spencer, Brat!Reader, spanking, degradation, spanking, spit kink, sir kink, vaginal fingering, slight creampie, Reader's boss is an asshole, typical office misogyny. Spencer is also an asshole, but that's just because he's a dumbass.

A/N: Special thank you to @reidmotif and @mrs-dr-reid for proofreading this one for me! I wrote this when on a major Pride and Prejudice moment, which is why there's a whole lot of plot before the sex. I hope you like the build-up just as much as the smut! <3 If you like it, don't forget to leave a like, reply, or reblog and tell me your thoughts! ((just as a reminder, apart for Sundays and Tuesdays, I'll be posting all the kinktober fics on AO3 exclusively, so check out my writing there - reiderwriter))

My requests are also back open now, so if you like my writing and have an idea, check out my request guidelines and drop me a message in my inbox! You can find the rest of my masterlist here :)

To say you were angry was an understatement. You were seething, the anger bubbling up inside of you and threatening to lash out at anyone who so much as crossed your path as you made your way down the crappy motel corridor. You'd only known Spencer Reid a week, but you could think of no one you despised more.

The FBI had always been a boys' club, you knew that. There were some goddamn strong women in your field office, of course, but you were outnumbered 10 to 1. Which was why you were so determined to do well on the first case assigned to you as lead Agent. The first week of the case, you'd made sure you were thorough. A body had been found in the park by a jogger, and you darted to the crime scene the moment you got the call. A woman in her early twenties, like you, had been raped, tortured, and then dumped here, her body posed in a demeaning way to make it seem as if she were performing a sexual act. Your entire body shuddered at the sight, but you couldn't let your coworkers see you weak so you powered through. Collecting evidence, getting an ID on the victim, interviewing potential witnesses, and yes, even breaking the news to the poor girl's family, you had been so attentive to every detail of the case and you felt you were making progress, your boss delivered a humbling blow.

"Another body has been discovered. I've invited the Behavioural Analysis Unit in from Quantico because you're in over your head." He'd told you, not even looking up at you from the file he was reading on his desk.

"What? I wasn't told about another body, why wasn't I notified?"

"I didn't think you needed to know, now that the BAU is coming in."

"So I'm off the case? That's it?"

"No, I want you to assist them in their investigation. Tell them everything you've gathered so far, get them situated in the office as best you can."

"Get them coffee when they want it? Rub their feet if they ask for it? This is bullshit, I was making progress, if you'd only have given me more time-"

"Agent, I suggest you walk out of this office right now and get your PMSing under control before I have to suspend you from fieldwork." You pressed your nails further into the beds on your palms then and bit back your tongue from replying, simply giving a terse nod and exiting the office.

It wasn't even an hour later before the new team arrived, and you offered a tense smile and welcome as you got them set up in their own office. The Unit Chief didn't seem too bad, but Aaron Hotchner couldn't exactly be described as the most welcoming of people, and you felt an instant camaraderie with JJ, the other agent who'd come into the office with him. There were more agents apparently, but they'd gone out into the field to check out the new victim and reinterview the family, something you weren't exactly happy about. But, if you were going to be their little bitch for the next week, you were at least thankful they were tolerable and polite.

"So here's everything I've got so far. I've been pretty thorough in my interrogations of potential witnesses, and there are no CCTV cameras in the general vicinity of the dump sites, so I don't think you'll find anything else there that'll aid in your profile."

" If you'd have been thorough you'd have found this though, right?" A new voice popped up from the door, and you felt yourself tense up under the sudden accusation. Looking up you saw he was holding up his phone, a picture of a strange marking on a tree lighting up the screen.

"Excuse me?"

"This was left on a tree roughly thirty feet from the first dump site. I called Rossi and Morgan and they found a similar marking near the second victim. It's a Mesopotamian symbol relating to the worship of prostitutes and sex workers to promote fertility." He spoke plainly, but all you could hear was the condescension in his tone, and your blood boiled with rage.

" Agent Y/L/N, I'm sorry about him, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, he's another member of our team." JJ introduced the man, sending him a warning glance, as if letting him know that he hadn't just put his foot in his mouth directly.

You looked at the man then, really focusing on him now instead of the pictures, and almost cursed out loud again. He was a jerk, but fuck was he attractive. Tousled hair, dark eyes, and a perfectly sculpted jaw, it was as if he were sent from hell directly to piss you off and tempt you. You pushed the attraction aside for the minute then, choosing to be the bigger person and introduce yourself.

"I'm Agent Y/N Y/L/N. And I'm sorry that I'm not an expert on Mesopotamian prostitutes, but I guess that's probably your specialty, right, Doctor?" You held out your hand for him to shake, but he just looked down at it.

"If you're referring to my doctorate, I actually didn't study classic civilizations. I hold PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering and additional BAs in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology. And I don't do handshakes." He glanced straight past you after that, walking back over to Hotch and filling him in on other things you must've overlooked during your brief time working the case.

You glared at his back, finally letting your hand drop to your side again as you let out an angry chuckle.

"Don't take it personally, Spencer is just… He’s He's not great with people. He'll warm up to you." JJ put a reassuring arm on your shoulder and you nodded. But inside you knew there was not one thing the man could do to reverse the bad opinion of him you'd just gained.

–X–

After the initial anger of having the case seeped out from beneath you wore off, you actually began enjoying your time with the BAU. You hadn't put much thought into profiling before, it usually being so far off your radar while you were working in the field office but you were actually coming to enjoy how they worked, and you'd learned a lot.

Your relationship with Spencer, however, only degraded.

Your hatred had reignited the moment you'd been joined by the rest of the BAU Team. Your boss has finally come down to greet them, and, almost as if making you pay for your earlier comments, had genuinely sent you on a coffee run for them. You could deal with the fact that the man had the most annoyingly complicated coffee order you'd ever heard of in the Bureau, but what you couldn't forgive were the sly comments you walked in on when you returned.

"Come on, Reid. That Agent is easy on the eyes, you should talk to her, get you a slice of that." You'd been introduced to Derek Morgan earlier and you'd instantly pegged him as a flirt, so this wasn't exactly shocking to you. What was a bit surprising was the other man's reply.

"If she's attractive I hadn't noticed. I've been too busy trying to clear up her mess with this case."

You walked in the door then, coffees in hand, and slammed his drink down on the table for him. You handed Morgan to him, double-checking that you'd got both of their orders right before shooting another glare at the man and walking away to find the rest of the team.

But not before hearing Morgan chastise Reid in another whisper: "God man, you gotta be nicer to the kid…"

To say that your working relationship had soured totally after your two personal encounters with the man was simply an untruth. You didn't have a working relationship, you had a working rivalry.

From then on, you'd slyly interrupt the man when he was speaking, telling him to cut his genius rambles in half, that you didn't have all day to sit around and wait for him to stutter his way through his theory while there was a murderer on the loose.

He didn't hold back either, constantly asking you questions he knew you didn't know the answers to, just to smile slyly down at you and make you admit that you weren't as good as him. It was getting so detrimental to the office atmosphere that you had to be genuinely separated after only three days, Hotchner bringing you into the field with him on multiple occasions and forcing Reid to stay behind with JJ to work on a geographical profile.

You'd been with Hotchner at a family interview, working with him to gain details of the second victim's actions and whereabouts leading up to her murder to establish a timeline when you got a call.

Excusing yourself from the room, you quickly picked up the call.

"This is Agent Y/L/N."

"Hotch isn't picking up his phone." That was all the explanation you got from the man on the other side of the phone, his voice instantly grating.

"Yes, I'd assume he isn't, Doctor Reid, because we are currently interviewing a bereaved mother and father and he put his phone on silent. Is there something you need?"

"I need to talk to Hotch."

"Well, you called me. What do you need?" You heard him breathe out a frustrated sigh on the other side of the line, and you rolled your eyes, slightly enjoying being this stubborn and getting under his skin.

"Just tell him we're ready to give the profile, okay?" He hung on you after that and you cursed him down the line, receiving nothing back but the empty beeps of the dial tone.

–X–

It didn't take long after delivering the profile to get your guy, but as he hadn't been in the middle of committing any felonies when you picked him up, you'd had to spend a few days in the interrogation rooms.

Hotch had taken a crack at him and gotten nowhere, and so had Rossi and Emily and Morgan. JJ had been the one to make the arrest, so she went in last and still came out with nothing much. He hadn't layered up yet, as they'd suspected he wouldn't, too egotistical to allow anyone else into the room that he thought he was going to talk himself out of.

"We're getting nowhere with this, Hotch. I think I have an idea that could get him to start talking." Reid said as you all stared at the man through the one-way glass.

"What, you think you can charge in there and get him to talk?" It was petty, but it'd been a stressful week, and he was used to this flow of conversation between the two of you.

"No, you are. Hotch, she fits his type, she's attractive, same build and coloring as the previous two victims. I think it'd work." You scoffed at his suggestion.

"Oh so now you think I'm attractive? I thought you hadn't noticed because you were, what, too busy cleaning up my mess?" You crossed your arms as he gave you an incredulous look, and you realized that he didn't think you'd heard him.

"Spencer's right, Y/N." Hotch nodded, looking between the two of you to see if he needed to pull you apart to keep you from fighting or to keep you from jumping each other. You personally weren't sure which you'd like most at that point, cursing yourself as you let your eyes trail down his body.

"It's going to excite him having you so close, you should pop a few of those buttons, too," Reid suggested looking down at your chest as you scoffed and crossed your arms.

"Oh you'd really like that," you mumbled under your breath, but a swift look from Hotch had you shutting your mouth again as he began to brief you.

Going in you felt a surge of pettiness seep through you. You were going to nail this guy, get him to talk about every little nasty thing he did to those girls, and prove to your boss that you could do this when every member of the BAU had tried and failed. But a small, dim, and annoying reminder at the back of your head whispered in your ear that you'd be pleasing Spencer then as well. Proving him right. You weren't sure if you wanted to succeed to hear him or your boss say "good job" to you after you finally succeeded, but when you imagined it with him, he was a whole lot closer, right in your ear, body pressed against yours.

You focused on your anger over your attraction and pushed into the room, ready to stare down a monster and escape unharmed.

–X–

It had worked, of course. It had taken a few hours of building rapport but you'd done it. You'd had him eating out the palm of your hand while he confessed to the three murders you knew about and an extra four that you didn't.

A day of retrieving bodies later and by 10 pm, the case was finally closed.

"Well done, kid, you really got him in that interview. That was some great work." Morgan nudged your elbow as he grabbed his duffle, exiting the makeshift office.

"Don't forget we're getting drinks at the cocktail bar in half an hour. Shower off that mud and change into a hot dress, Agent, and I'll buy you your first shot." Emily called back to you from the exit too, leaving you in a fit of giggles as you promised her you would.

Once they'd all gone, you started packing up your things ready to leave yourself when there was another knock at the door.

" Hey, I need to grab my bag." Reid stood in the door awkwardly, and your smile dropped into a politely neutral face as you nodded to him.

"Don't let me stop you, Doc."

"Spencer."He said, stepping a bit closer to you.

"What?"

"I want you to call me Spencer. You keep calling me Doctor or Doc, I want you to call me Spencer."

"No. Doctor Reid is just fine for me."

"And what if I want more?" He grabbed your wrist as you turned to go, using a bit too much force and leaving you stumbling into him, hitting his chest as you looked up at him, your noses almost touching with the proximity.

"Let me go," you growled, but his grip loosened and you didn't move an inch.

"What if I want more?" He asked again, a little more insistent this time, his eyes dark in the dim room, expression unreadable.

"Why should I care what you want, Doctor Reid?"

"Because I think you want it, too. Because I think that despite all the odds, you want me just as much as I want you."

Your anger burst out of you in a sarcastic laugh then at his presumptuous words.

"Despite all the odds? What odds are those Spencer? You treat me like shit, ignoring me, refusing to even shake my hand, and downplaying the hard fucking work I put in before you got here? God, you are so fucking narcissistic." You finally stepped away from him then, turning away to regain your composure.

"Me? I'm not the one who missed some vital fucking evidence in a murder investigation, Y/N, so I'm sorry I wasn't the most welcoming person, but God if we're talking egos, you should probably check yourself."

"Forget it, you're impossible. I really tried to be nice to you, but more fool me for making messes you had to clean up."

"Are you still stuck on that? Y/N, I'm sorry, but Derek just has a way of-" He stepped closer to you again and you could feel the oxygen being sucked from your lungs.

"Don't you dare blame this on Morgan. You're attracted to me and you fucking despise that, and it's none of Morgan’s fault. Now please, just get out of this fucking office and go back to your motel room." You practically hissed those last words at him, holding back the urge to scream in frustration. Your lips were so close now, as his chest heaved, hands clenched by his sides as he resisted the urge to grab you.

"Forgive me… for suggesting something so obviously repulsive to you." With that, he brushed past you and walked out, leaving you reeling at his almost confession, head light from the lack of air. He'd taken your breath with him as he left the room.

–X–

The promise of free shots had convinced you to get back out to the bar as promised, not letting Reid and his fickle moods control when and where you'd be enjoying yourself.

You finally showed up at the bar and were greeted by hugs from JJ and Emily, already one drink in as they immediately handed you a shot from the bar. Guiding you back to the table, you paused as you saw him there.

Morgan was sat at the table, happily chatting away with Reid, who'd since grown quiet, eyes meeting yours before leaving to rake down your frame. You resisted the urge to cover yourself, confidently standing tall as he devoured you with his eyes. Changing out of your work clothes, you'd decided that you needed some fun tonight, donning a short red dress, barely hitting the tops of your thighs, hugging your curves tightly, and pushing your chest up so it nearly spilled out completely. You'd completed the look with thigh-high black boots and a red lip, looking the absolute image of lust - or anger - personified.

"Whew mama, you look good, Y/N." Morgan greeted you, standing up to give you a kiss on the cheek. Reid still said nothing but kept his eyes trained on you as he took another sip of his drink.

"I was promised shots and dancing, I think I'm dressed pretty appropriately don't you think?" You smiled and giggled up at Morgan, letting your touch linger on him a little longer to see if it would spur Reid into action.

"Have I ever told you about my very good friend Penelope Garcia? I think you two would get along just fine."

The rest of the night continued in a similar vein. You'd stepped out onto the dance floor with Emily and JJ, letting whatever man wanted to sidle up close, begging one of them to be a distraction from the man whose eyes were boring into you from the other side of the room. It didn't work. Their hands were on your hips, guiding you to the sound of the music but in your head, all you saw was him, doing the same.

It didn't help that he was getting hit on constantly from his perch beside Morgan, and you watched with a bitter feeling at the bottom of your stomach as women tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to pay attention to them. After another frustrating invitation for a tryst with a local man, you excused yourself from the dance floor, finding Morgan in the bar, letting him know that you were calling it a night.

"Where's Reid?" You asked, trying and failing to sound casual as you glanced around the now crowded bar for signs of him.

"He left like ten minutes ago. Said he was tired and went back to the motel."

"Was he…" You didn't want to finish the question, not knowing which answer you'd prefer, but Morgan filled in the gaps himself with a wide grin.

"Alone? Yes, kid. Here, it's the address of the motel we're staying at and his room number." You hesitated before grabbing the paper and grabbing your stuff, practically running from the bar and hopping in the nearest taxi.

–X–

That's how you found yourself stomping down the corridor of the motel, pounding on his door at 1 a.m., unashamed in your brazen actions. He opened the door, slightly shocked to see you there, and you pushed your way inside and turned on him as you shut the door.

"What the fuck was all of that?" You demanded as soon as he turned back to you. His shirt was open now, jacket and tie discarded on the floor somewhere deeper into the room, but you forced yourself to look up into his eyes, away from the pale plains of his skin.

"What was what, Y/N?"

"You, staring at me like that the whole night and then just leaving."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"I want you to stop answering my questions with questions, Reid. This is bullshit, you can't act like a dick to me all week and then look at me like I'm a piece of meat you want to rip apart, for fucks sake."

"You made it very clear earlier tonight that you wanted no part of this, Y/N. Are you saying I should've done something else?"

"That's another fucking question, Spencer! If you don't start actually talking to me, I swear to god, I'll-" You ran a hand through your hair, and when you looked up again, he was closer than ever. You backed up into the wall, but he followed you, pressing a leg between your own. Slowly and with that condescending grin plastered across his face, he drawled out his next words.

"You'll what?"

Your lips crashed against his with the fury of your frustrations, a mess of teeth and tongue and biting anger as you surged forward into him.

With a rough push of your hips, he slammed you back into the wall, taking charge of the situation, coaxing his tongue into your mouth, battling you for control, and winning. Grabbing you by the neck he slowly pulled his lips away from yours, leaving you gasping for breath.

"Don't be such a brat, Y/N. When I ask you questions, it's because I want answers." You moaned as you tried to regain his lips, but he chuckled and kept you pinned.

"Tell me, baby, what should I have done earlier instead? Got down on my knees to beg your forgiveness, or thrown you over that desk and used you like a cheap little whore? I think I know which one you prefer."

You moaned at his words, but kept your mouth twisted in a grimace, choosing not to answer. He got tired of waiting, and, with a swiftness you didn't know he possessed, twisted you around so your hands were planted against the wall, your chest pushing against it too as he pulled your hips up and out, effectively baring your pantie-clad pussy to him as your dress pushed up and over your ass all by itself.

"So fucking slutty. You let all those men in that club touch you while you stared at me the entire time." He ran his hands across your ass massaging you underneath your underwear before pulling his hands away again and grabbing your hips. He pushed his clothed cock against you from behind and you moaned at how hard and big he felt already.

"Was this what you wanted, brat?"

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think you'd much prefer it if I fucked you, don't you think?" He turned you around again, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around him, the new angle pressing your core further into his cock.

"Open your mouth, now." Against your better judgment, your body reacted to him quickly, your tongue dropping out of your mouth as he ground his cock into your core, effectively dry-humping you. With a swift motion, he spat in your mouth, your eyes going wide as you instinctively shut your mouth and swallowed.

"Good girl," he stroked your hair, lifting you up and carrying you to the bed. His lips locked with yours as you tasted his spit on your lips, letting him take control and move you in any way he pleased.

"But you've been a brat," he said pulling away. "And brats need to be punished."

With that he forced you over his knee, pulling your panties down as he positioned your hips higher, your ass raised. He fisted one hand into your hair and began softly stroking your ass with the other.

"You're going to count for me, baby. If you lose count, we'll start again. With each number, I'll tell you what you did wrong, okay?"

"Fuck, yes, yes sir." With another soft touch, he pulled his hand up and bought it back again down sharply, letting it cup your ass as you hissed from the sting.

"O-One."

"That was for being a brat in the office. Being so confident you missed some vital evidence that was staring you right in the face."

He did it again, and you squirmed under his touch.

"Two."

"That was for teasing me in front of Hotch. Making me get hard right there in the office before you went to interrogate that creep."

"That made you hard?" You gasped out as he cracked out another slap to your ass. "Three."

"That was for talking. You need to stop fucking talking." He stroked your ass again, delivering a fourth, fifth, and sixth blow in quick succession as you felt yourself leak your arousal all over his lap.

"That was for dressing like a little whore tonight. That was for flirting with Morgan. That was for letting another man touch you. What do you have to say for yourself now, brat?" Your breaths stuttered out of you as you tried to compose yourself, confident that he'd finished your punishment now.

"G-Go…. FuckFuck yourself." He growled and threw you back on the bed, ripping your dress off over your head and letting his lips return to yours as he trailed his hand to between your legs, finally pushing two fingers inside of you as you moaned and writhed beneath him.

" I hate you," you moaned in his ear as his lips trailed down to your breasts.

"You have a funny way of showing it." Your orgasm was rapidly approaching, so close you could practically taste it. He sensed it as well, though, and pulled his fingers out of you before you could reach that bliss.

"You thought it would be that easy, brat?" he whispered in your ear with a low chuckle before flipping you over to your front and thrusting his fingers back into you from behind, causing another moan to rip from your throat, uncontrollably loud in the otherwise silence of the motel at night.

Unzipping his pants and freeing his cock, you felt the weight of it on your ass as he rubbed his precum against your now bright red asscheeks.

"You're going to look so pretty with my cum decorating your ass baby. It's going to make your ass feel better, too."

"You're disgusting," you spit at him, but your hips push harder into his dick, trying desperately to capture him inside of you and force him to use you.

"No more talking, bitch. Take my fingers." He pushed a hand into your mouth and you started twirling your tongue around them, using your distraction to finally violently thrust his dick all the way inside you. You screamed at the sudden filling, cumming around his cock in an instant, trying to milk him for all he was worth. But he clamped a hand down over your mouth so that all that fell from your face was escaped tears and muffled pleas for more.

"Gonna use you like this baby, gonna make you admit you love me."

His thrusts gained a steady pace as your brain emptied beneath him, desperate for more of the pleasure his body was supplying you with. He released your mouth then, content that all your energy seemed to be spent on pushing your ass back into his, listening to the wet, sloppy sounds of your activity.

"Do you like that, brat? You like me making you feel like this, huh?" He slapped your ass again as he thrust, and you moaned back with a nod.

"Yes, Spencer, don't stop… Don't stop." You moaned again, another orgasm rolling over your body, causing you to clench unconsciously around his cock.

"So good baby, you're responding so well to my cock." He trailed a hand underneath you to your clit and started rubbing it in time to his thrusts.

"One more for me. One more and I'll pull out, okay? Just one more."

"I can't, Spencer I can't do it.." You whined underneath him, face fully buried in the motel pillows. You were surprised he even heard you through the tears as the material.

"Yes you can, baby, look you're so close already, just do one more."

"I hate you," you moaned again, feeling your third and final orgasm wash over you, your eyes rolling back in your head as your body started twitching and didn't stop. You felt a small twitch from him too, as he finished thrusting inside of you, letting a little bit of his cum escape into you before pulling out and decorating your ass with his ejaculation.

He fell by the side of you and gasped desperately for a few minutes, before grabbing a hot wet towel from the bathroom and cleaning your ass off.

"Spencer…" you croak out eventually, regaining some clarity, but still not moving much from your spot in his bed.

"Spencer, I don't hate you."

"I know. I don't hate you either. Which is probably for the best."

"What? Why?"

"Hotch just requested your transfer to the Quantico Office so you could start training with the BAU. You did a good job this week, Y/N." Your eyes started watering again and you gently pushed away tears as he laughed at you, asking why you were crying.

"I'm not happy," you joked.

"I just realized that means I have to work with you more." You both laughed at that. You didn't hate each other exactly, but that didn't mean you could work together well either.

And you didn't want to if this was the outcome of your bickering and hatred.

[moodymisty]

Hiii!!! I LOVE everything you write since I followed you a long time ago. I would like to read something about Rogal Dorn. I can't find ANYTHING about him and i just can't stop thinking about him.

I don't mind if it's smut, whatever you feel confortable with, but if it can have a little bit of fluff i would LOVE It.

Thank you for everything.💞

Author's note: Ok so I am deciding to do an idea i have for awhile, that I believe someone else posted but I cannot remember who. anyhoo, enjoy. Perhaps it's not as fluffy as you might have wanted, but fluffy Dorn is sort of awkward, nice Dorn so I hope you still like it;;

Relationships: Rogal Dorn/Fem!Reader (reader is a remembrancer)

Warnings: Perturabo calls you a whore but other than that nothing really of note

"I never did thank you properly for all of the clothes, Lord Dorn."

You look up at him, golden armor still shining in the relative dimness of the bridge- to only get a light nod of his head in response.

Inwit is freezing, unfathomably cold, and the clothes you had worn previously on Olympia failed to cut it. That had been a very quick, and very upsetting realization. Dorn had- in his stalwart silence - requisitioned you more only a few days later. Many more, custom-made. They were lined with warm furs and comfortable, built for hard winds and ice, trapping your body heat close to you. You had taken some of the layers off since you were arriving to Terra, a planet with a much more tempered climate. You don't miss the burning of your cheeks and frozen snot, but you do miss the planet overall.

Terra... Coming here makes you nervous. You know who is going to be here. Take a few deep, self-assuring breaths before looking in Dorn's general direction. The large glass viewport at the front of the bridge illuminates most of the floor, casting you all in a variety of colors.

"Lord Dorn, may I ask you a question about something?"

He turns to you, looking down at your hesitant expression.

"Did Perturabo make you beg permission to speak to him? Just ask it."

He did, more often than not. You remember more than a few instances.

"Well, he was actually going to be what I wanted to ask about."

You twisted your wrists in your hands, trying to do some sort of fidget to focus on while Dorn had his full attention on you.

"Has he always hated you? The entire time I was in his company, there was always just undertone of pure, seething hatred for you, but whenever I saw you, you didn't seem to even care."

There are a few other Imperial Fists on the bridge, watching as Terra comes into view. You're in the process of getting caught by the planet's orbit and mooring close enough to come down to the surface. You can see the palace already, even from this far, a golden target that is still growing larger with each day.

"Perturabo has always been that way, yes."

Dorn turns to briefly give an order to a questioning Imperial Fist, before returning to you and his explanation.

"He sees competition in my existence. I don't care."

Polux approaches, choosing to stand on your opposing side and wait patiently for his moment to speak. You give him a brief smile as greeting before returning your eyes to his primarch. Dorn looks forward and out the viewport, watching the palace of his design inch closer and closer.

"Sanguinius and Horus' rivalry is even matched. They both find growth from it. Perturabo's rivalry with me is a childish urge to beat me into the ground and prove to everyone that he is better."

You don't disagree with him in even the slightest. Perturabo was always so desperate to beat Dorn above all else, even to the detriment of other facets of his life.

"Despite the fact that he isn't?"

Dorn looks at you fully again, eyebrows raised and you swear, you swear, the inkling of a smile on his face.

"You have spent more time with him than I. Do you think that?" He turns on his heel slightly, armor shifting and clanking against eachother to face you more.

"Do you think The Emperor was right in claiming me Praetorian over him?"

You've been with the Imperial fists for a few months now, and this is far from the first time you've spoken to Dorn. Far more than you ever interacted with Perturabo, despite the fact that Dorn is known for being tight lipped and humorless.

You nod.

"Yes, I do. Perturabo's plans are always so complex, and he hinges them and his entire self worth on being better than you. And when he fails, he sulks." You smile. "I don't imagine you or your sons to be the type to sit and pout if something went wrong. You would all be too busy trying to correct it."

Dorn looks down at you, face as stoic and frozen as you've become quite used to. You don't know entirely what he's thinking, but you don't get a chance to ask before someone else's voice interrupts you.

Polux has a younger astartes walk up to him, stating some information that flows in one ear and out the other for you before walking away. He turns to the both of you, looking two his primarch but referring to the both of you.

"My lord, we are ready to depart for the palace. Is she accompanying us?"

You've never stepped foot on Terra before, to even come into it's orbit is an idea that you could barely handle; Alongside the fact that the primarch and his captains have little need for you there. You gather yourself, preparing to return to the Librarium aboard the ship to continue your work before Dorn's voice stops you in your tracks and sends almost every emotion through you at once.

"She is. Let us go."

Your first time on Terra was going well, in the first hour or so.

Dorn isn't much of a communicator, so he has spent the long of it conversing with his men, giving orders even while not aboard his ship. Either orders given to send back to the Phalanx, or to the Imperial Fists on Terra assisting with the Palace construction. You stand idly by and occasionally draw, or write something down that interests you.

The smoothness stops however, when Dorn looks away abruptly. His sons are confused, before they also perk up not a moment later. You look to Polux, as you know he's the one who will most likely acquiesce to your questions.

"What is it?" You say. He tilts his head vaguely in your direction, but doesn't actually look at you.

"Primarch Perturabo is on his way. He must've heard we had arrived," Polux takes a breath, presumably steeling himself for whatever is to come.

"His... footsteps are quite loud." Not a few more moments later now even you can hear them, and then see him shortly thereafter.

Perturabo storms closer; You can tell by the red flush over his tanned skin, that he is beyond furious.

Dorn looks down at you, and points behind him. His voice leaves no room for question, not as if you would even considering doing so in the first place.

"Go to Vulkan."

The Salamander's primarch had finished speaking to Dorn not long ago, now standing across the massive open area that you presumed served as a training ground for the astartes. You do as your now primarch commands and rush towards him, feeling his eyes on him as you approach.

"I am terribly sorry to bother you Lord Vulkan, but My lord Dorn told me to-" He ushers you closer with a hand, his voice gentle despite his overwhelming size.

"I am well aware of your circumstances, and what is more than likely about to play out. You can stay here with me."

You take refuge close to the Salamander's primarch, both standing and watching as Perturabo confronts Dorn. Multiple of his Imperial Fists straighten up and hold themselves at the ready, prepared to fight for their primarch if it ever be needed.

"Dorn!"

A disrespectful finger points his way, but Dorn pays it no mind. The white fabric of Perturabo's Olympian clothes flow softly and comfortably in the gentle wing, in contrast to the sharp, unforgiving features of his face.

"You think you can just steal from me now? Are you truly so bold now that you're praetorian?"

Dorn only speaks up when Perturabo is close enough that he doesn't have to yell.

"She wanted to leave."

Dorn speaks plainly, bluntly, as if he's just totally uncaring of the conversation.

You've learned over time that Dorn is far from emotionless; He merely doesn't waste it on things he deems pointless. This is pointless, and so he only speaks with the most blunt, monotone voice. It pisses Perturabo off to an unfathomable degree.

To think he was so upset about your departure without his dismissal. He had been nothing but cold and cruel to you, despite the fact that you were merely there to document his legion's progresses.

"I don't care what she wanted. She was indebted to my legion, and I will not tolerate deserters no matter how useless I think they are,"

Perturabo yells. Once his frustration at Dorn is exhausted enough that his attention can be deviated, he turns his gaze to you.

It feels like the gravity of a planet is pushing down onto you, the sheer weight of his anger. Even from so far away. Even the weight of Primarch Vulkan's hand on your shoulder does nothing to shield you from it.

"I hope you heard me, you lying, traitorous little whore. I hope you know I'll wring your neck myself when I catch you."

It takes every bit of energy to avoid crumbling instantly, at the threat of a primarch. Thankfully he leaves shortly after, storming off with the flowing white fabric of his clothes flowing behind him.

Vulkan sighs. You think he said something to reassure you, but you can't hear it over the thumping of your heart in your ears.

"I truly don't think there is much we can do to change him." Corvus- whom you've only just realized was here the entire time with a startle upon hearing his voice - shakes his head.

"His desire to be superior is tripped up at every point by his insufferable personality."

Vulkan looks down at you as an Imperial Fist approaches.

"Are you alright?" He says, and the caring nature of it is a bit overwhelming.

"I, I hope so." Vulkan doesn't laugh, but there is a softness on his face as he smiles at you. Corvus simply watches, and you once again realized that he was there.

"We all know Dorn. He has mentioned you quite a bit,"

"For him," Corvus adds. Vulkan gives him a quick look before turning back to you.

"I do not think he would ever allow anything to happen to you."

The reassurance of a primarch is a feeling next to none; But so it's the threat of one. They both battle in your heart and soul as the Imperial Fist reaches you.

"Lord Dorn is going to have one of us escort you back to the ship."

You nod, looking up to Vulkan to thank him. He simply smiles and speaks before you have a chance to give any gratitude.

"Stay safe, little one."

You follow that Imperial Fist back, before he leaves you on your own close to your quarters. Once you get into them, the door shutting behind you with a hiss, your chest starts to tighten like something has a hold on it.

Every Iron Warrior now likely knows that Perturabo wants your head on a pike. You try to steady your breathing, dumping your papers onto your small desk and sitting on the edge of your bed with a soft thud.

It's getting harder to breath, you swallow a massive knot in your throat. You try to shake your leg, dig your fingers into your palms to stop the feeling, like your heart is going to explode, the thumping of blood in your ears-

It starts to level down after awhile, the room steadies and no longer is spinning. Once that happens, the tears actually start to come, and you keep trying to wipe them away each time a few fall.

You don't regret leaving the Iron Warriors; Olympia. You don't know what Dorn saw in you that was enough for him to offer you a place but you don't regret taking it. His legion's treatment of you compared to your time on Olympia was incomparable, but the petty nature you had witnessed from the primarch was now focused on you; Your betrayal of fleeing to Dorn.

You have your arms wrapped around yourself, tightening them as someone opens your door. Your momentary startle fades when you realize who it is.

It's Dorn. You don't know when his presence stopped being so intimidating, even as a primarch; Perhaps it's the time you've spent with him recently that has gotten you used to him.

"You have been crying."

It would surely be easy to tell- you can still fear the wetness of tears on your face. You take a deep breath and clear your throat to try and speak normally.

"Primarch Perturabo wants my beaten corpse at his feet, and I don't, I don't know what to do-"

He comes closer, face neutral and stoic. You try and contain the emotion on your face.

Stupid, all of it, is what Perturabo would've said to you. You were always a stupid, pointless inconvenience forced upon him. But yet one he was still so upset to see leave.

"I knew very well how he would behave when I offered you a place here. I will not allow him to harm you."

In his own, odd way, the sentence calms you. It's not a lie, it is the utmost truth put into blunt, simple words. You sniffle and unwrap your arms from around yourself, returning to some level of normalcy.

"Thank you..." You say, and Dorn- to your surprise - kneels.

"Do not thank me for something I should do. I put you in this predicament and made you an enemy of him."

Dorn is quiet for a moment. You look at him questioningly, but he doesn't seem to notice. Then suddenly a hand rests heavy on your shoulder, and he leans in to press his lips to yours.

It's only a split second, it's chaste and quick, and he pulls away as a string of spit snaps between you both. You barely even have a chance to process it all; A primarch just kissed you. You had liked him, but you firmly pushed those thoughts from your mind for the sheer absurdity of them.

“You shouldn’t cry.” At first you think he’s telling you not to be weak- To suck it up.

“I, should not have allowed him to speak to you that way. I allowed him to make you cry.”

Crying is nothing; the fact that he has said he would protect you from an enraged primarch that by all intents and purposes you betrayed, is more than worth its weight. You don’t care about the crying.

"I'll be fine. I just needed a minute, and," You laugh. "Hopefully that's the last time I ever see his face." Dorn doesn't smile, but his voice has a gentle tilt of amusement that makes you smile a bit wider.

"I admit I would be jealous of you if that were to be the case."

You don't envy that he will have to continue to deal with Perturabo, especially now that your presence has created a deeper rift. Alongside his duties as Praetorian.

Dorn rises up from his knee and reaches out a hand.

"I am going to speak to my men about progress of the Palace walls. Come with me."

You take his hand, and you expect him to just allow you to pull yourself up, but instead he wraps his fingers around it and holds your hand, guiding you out of your room. He lets go moments after, but the gesture was there none the less.

[bingbongsupremacy]

Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: reader is able to get pregnant, pet names, argument, idk what else.

Summary: It's getting harder and harder to spend time with your husband and you have some really important news. (Pre-Outbreak)

*Not Proof Read* TLOU Masterlist

ABC List

*****

The room is silent, the only noise coming from our TV. Light bounces off of the walls, casting a small glow on the coffee table that moves.

I curl deeper into the couch, watching as the clock ticks by.

8:30....9:15....10:45....11:12...

Finally I hear keys jingling from the front door.

" You're still up? " Joel's voice is tired and raspy. He pulls off his boots, leaving them near the front door. " Is Sarah still up? "

I shake my head, rubbing my heavy eyes. " No. She's over at Gina's, down the street, for a sleepover. "

Joel wanders into the kitchen, pulling a can of beer out of the fridge. He takes a swig before heading towards the living room. For a moment, neither of us talks.

" You were supposed to be home at 6. " I glance over at the man. I take in his appearance. His eyes are dark from clear exhaustion. His shirt is covered in grime. It's obviously been a long day.

" I was. " He agrees, not saying anything more. He takes another sip of his beer. Condensation forms on the can, dripping down his hand.

His answer doesn't satisfy me. " Why weren't you? Why didn't you call? " I press.

This has been happening often. Every few days he stays out later than normal, most of the time, he 'forgets' to call.

Joel lets out a sigh, obvious frustration filling his expression. " I got caught up in my work. It wasn't supposed to go past 6, but stuff happens. You know that, babe. "

Irritation fills my body. " And you couldn't have bothered to, I don't know, check your watch and maybe call me? I was worried sick, Joel. I stayed up even though I have to be up at 6 for work tomorrow. " I push myself up, looking towards his face. Looking for something, something other than annoyance.

I was really hoping he'd be here at 6.

" I didn't ask you to do that. You could've gone to bed. Don't blame me for your decisions. I told you, I lost track of time. I don't have my phone on me when I'm working. " Joel's gaze meets mine.

Anger runs through my body. Usually I'm not this quick to anger but the hormones are driving me insane. The stress of unknowing along with Joel's careless attitude sends rage flowing through my body. " You really could give less of a shit about Sarah and me, huh? " I seethe, not thinking through my words.

Joel's eyes narrow. " What the fuck do you mean? " He starts getting defensive. " Of course I give a shit about you! I fucking work my ass off, for you two! " Joel's tone rises.

" Then why do you keep doing shit that makes us worry? " I exclaim. " You could have called at any point and it would've helped me feel better. I understand that you don't keep your phone on you while working, but is it really that hard to take a five minute break to call me? God-you need a break anyways! You'll fucking hurt yourself if you're constantly working. " My heart pounds. I stand up, trying to get some space between the man and I.

Joel stands up as well. His eyes burn into mine, sending a shiver of discomfort down my spine.

I hate when we get into arguments. My hormones and his exhaustion are mixing together to create a toxic cloud of anger and frustration.

" Like you'd even answer the fucking phone. " Joel rolls his eyes. " You've been so busy talking to your stupid fucking friends that it's nearly impossible to call you sometimes. "

He isn't wrong. I found out I was pregnant a few weeks ago, and I wanted-no I needed to tell someone. I wanted to make the announcement to Joel and Sarah important, something memorable. At the time, I just needed to tell someone else.

They've been there for me this entire time, helping me plan tonight. Helping me plan the dinner and gift for Joel.

A gift he never got to open and a dinner he never got to eat.

" Well I gotta talk to someone, Joel. You're never around anymore. " I snap.

" I'm working! " Joel lets out a breath.

" Your unbelievable. " I shake my head. I let out an angry laugh. " You know what, fuck this, Joel. You're not even listening to me. The point isn't that you're working late, it's that you don't bother to call home and tell me about it. I care about you, Joel. What-What if you got hurt? What if you got into a car crash or fucking died somehow? I'd have no idea because you don't bother to call me. All I want is one call, and that's too much to ask of you. " I push past the broad shouldered man. " Your dinner's in the fucking oven. It's your favorite. "

With that I storm upstairs, grateful Sarah wasn't here to witness the fight. I barely close the bedroom door before the tears start to flow.

Downstairs I hear Joel curse as he drops something on the ground. I lean against the door, doing my best to listen to the man below. His footsteps die off as he most likely settles onto the couch.

I just want him to call home.

_______

The next morning I leave before Joel wakes up. I send a quick text to Sarah, letting her know there's some food in the fridge.

My day seems to fly by. Piles of paperwork seem to disappear in minutes. Before I know it, it's time to head home.

An unsettled feeling wracks my stomach, surely not a good feeling for the baby. I'm still pissed at Joel. I just wish he understood where I'm coming from.

I unlock the front door and am immediately met with silence.

No one's home.

I let out a small sigh, walking towards the kitchen. My eyes widen in surprise when I spot Joel sitting at the kitchen table, a pair of small shoes in his hands.

He found the gift.

Of course he did, I left it on the dresser last night.

" Surprise. " I state while making my way to the fridge. " You're gonna be a daddy. Again. " My voice is unenthusiastic. Not the way I planned telling him at all.

" I'm so fucking sorry. " Joel blurts out. He runs his rough fingers over the small white laces, following the rhythm of the string. " I'm an asshole. "

" That you are. " I agree.

Joel finally looks up at me. His sad expression breaks my anger. Suddenly, I'm torn. Do I keep acting angry or do I feel bad for him?

" I deserve that. I-I shouldn't have yelled at you last night. Pregnant or not- You didn't deserve that. I took out my anger on you. I've...fuck I'll just tell you. I've been working late to try to make some extra money for us. I wanted to take you somewhere for our anniversary. "

I take a seat next to him, shock filling my body. I had no idea.

" You're right, I should've called you. That was a dick move. I...I don't know why I didn't. I guess I was just scared I'd be tired and I'll accidentally tell you something? It doesn't fucking matter now. "

" Oh Joel..."

He continues. " I'm sorry about dinner last night. I should've come home. " He finishes, finally setting the shoes down into the small gold box I put them in originally.

I don't say anything. I wrap my arms around the man, sinking my head into the crook of his warm neck. " Yes, you should've called, but I shouldn't have have been so aggressive. My emotions have just been all over the place. " My eyes begin to tear up. I feel a tightness in the back of my throat as I pull away from Joel. " I feel so much angrier than I usually do. "

Joel pulls me back into his embrace. " It's okay, honey. It's the baby. It's okay. " He tries to sooth me. " I love you so much, and I promise, I'm going to cut back my hours. "

" And you're gonna call, right? " I look up at him from my spot against his chest.

" Yes, I swear I'll call from now on. I have to, what if something happens to you and the baby. " He furrows his brows in worry. " I'll call you every hour. I promise. "

I let out a small laugh, wiping a tear away. " I think every few hours is okay, babe. "

" No every half hour. Who knows what could happen. Your office has steep stairs-we should see if the elevator there is fixed yet. " Joel mutters.

" Okay that might be a little overkill. " I crinkle my nose. " How about you just call when you're going to be late. Alright? "

" I can do that. "

[s6ngbird]

flowers from beneath — ACT V

series masterlist || navigation

[ warnings ] — NSFW, your mother being her usual self, fingering (f. receiving), , lmk if i missed anything

[ pairing ] — hades!coriolanus snow x persephone!reader

[ a/n ] — and here's the last act! i do think i'll make an epilogue but i have another fic in mind before i do that &lt;3

[ beta read by a literal goddess aka @etfrin ]

“i'm not giving her back” coriolanus said, after zeus and your mother had come to the underworld, demanding your release

“she's happy here, probably because you're not there to watch over her like a hawk” he continued, watching with a smirk as your mother reacts to his comment, she was turning so red that coriolanus was sure he could see the snoke radiating from her ears, just as he intended 

“she's not yours to keep! you kidnap my darling child, then try to keep her and now lie to me about her happiness?!” your mother shouts, seething with anger at coriolanus, all while zeus just rubbed his hand over his face, clearly not in the mood for either of their childish behavior 

“you might want to check with her on the whole ownership thing, she really seems to think i own her now” coriolanus exclaims, glee evident in his voice as he continues to argue with your mother, face lighting up everytime she makes a comment that he can easily retort to

“you are insufferable! zeus, what do you think about this? tell coriolanus he's being unreasonable and needs to return my daughter!” your mother yells at coriolanus, turning to zeus with a much calmer attitude to ensure that he would be on her side about all of this

“why don't we just bring her out? see what she thinks about coriolanus and returning to earth” zeus proposed, hoping that your mother would not go off at him for this solution 

“fine i'll bring her, but if she doesn't want to come, that's not my problem and maybe it'll help you rethink some of your life choices about being a mother” coriolanus said, getting off his throne and stalking towards his room, knowing that you would most likely want a kiss from him once he came in

maybe he could even fuck you quickly, so fast that zeus and your mother wouldn't even know but still slow enough to let your mother know that he was doing something to you and you had no objections 

before opening the door to his room, coriolanus looked behind him, double checking that your mother hadn't followed him and once he was sure no one was in the hallway besides him, he opened the door, shutting it quickly

you looked up the minute you hear the door open, your face lighting up when you saw coryo coming in, looking weary but a smile still present on your face that was only reserved for you

you had been cleaning up his room for a while, even though coryo didn't let you out of his room, he still unchained your ankle so that you could freely roam around his room and bathroom without him having to watch you

though getting to watch you take a bath and piss were always a delight for him because he got to see you naked…not that he didn't already get to see you naked whenever he pleased

he walked over to you, picking you up and tossing you on his bed, crawling over you and kissing you hard

you assumed he was upset about something since he never kissed you this hard unless someone or something had upset him earlier, and you were right

he didn't want to have to lose you, all of that time and effort that was put into kidnapping you, all the effort put into making you fall in love with him and getting you to submit yourself to him willingly, would all be wasted if he let you go

once he finally pulled back, you cupped his cheek and he leaned into your touch, shutting his eyes and taking deep breaths

“what's wrong coryo?” you ask, and he snakes a hand around your waist, flipping you two over so that you were on top of him now

“it's just…” he stopped, unsure of what to say next, if he told you that your mother was right outside in the throne room, you might want to go see her which is exactly what she wanted

but if he didn't tell you that, he would have to come up with some elaborate lie that would break his and your promise of not lying to one another 

“your mother stresses me…and she's here” he says, slowly and keeping his arm around your waist to ensure that you wouldn't run the minute he told you

and to his surprise, you stayed put, burying your head in his neck as his other hand came up to stroke your hair

“what's she doing?” you whisper, almost afraid to say it out loud

you had always had this subconscious fear of your mother because of the control she had over you, always grounding you if she thought you stepped out of line and slapping you at times when you really messed up

but you hadn't realized how afraid of her you were until coriolanus kidnapped you and you had spent so much time away from her

and even if coriolanus had married you against your will, you had grown fond of him and loved him, just as he did with you, though he loved you the minute he saw you

“her and zeus want me to bring you out so they can decide what to do with you, he says, voice muffled from burying his face in your hair in order to push down the feeling of crying, no he would not cry, he hadn't done that in decades and he wasn't about to start now

“i think if you keep me here, she'll grow suspicions and probably break down your door” you say, looking up at him, thinking of what to say next

“if you bring me out there it'll be better, trust me ok?” you kiss him, hoping to convince him from doing something he'll regret later and he kissed back, getting lost in your lips before you pulled back, giving him an expectant look

“fine, we'll go, you just need to change and clean up a bit” he grumbled, pulling you off of him and standing up as you go to the bathroom to wash your face

he laid back on the bed, sighing and rubbing his hand over his face, wondering if this was going to be the last time he ever saw you

and if it was he knew exactly what he wanted to do, getting up and coming up from behind you, picking you up and taking you on his bed, despite your protests 

“coryo! you cannot fuck me right now!” you exclaim, but when he quickly stuffs his fingers in your leaking cunt, your protests are silenced

he laughs at how wet you were, clutching your jaw in his hand as you go limp, deciding not to put up a fight with him, just praying that you would be done quickly and your mother wouldn't storm into here and watch her daughter being ruined by the very man she hated

you whined, trying to push him off despite not really wanting to and he eventually got off, but he made sure he made you come first

he wasn't about to deny his little bride of an orgasm, especially because this could possibly be one of the last ones he'd ever be able to give you

after he cleaned you up, he grabbed the nicest dress that he had brought you, helping you into it and zipping up the back and whispering in your ear how fuckable you looked in the dress and how he wished that he got just suck on your tits forever

you got red and slapped his arm, which earned you a slap on the ass that turned you even more red, groaning in frustration as he laughed, kissing you and leading you out the room, his hand wrapped around your waist

your mother lit up when she saw you, running over and hugging you so tightly, you felt that your bones would break under the pressure

she pulled back, checking every inch of you to make sure coriolanus hadn't hurt you and once she came to the conclusion that he hadn't hurt you, she hugged you again

“we're going to go home soon, i promise” she said, holding you closely as you squirmed a bit, opening your mouth to protest, but coriolanus beat you to it

“she's not going back to earth, she's my wife, it's her decision at the end of the day” coriolanus said, giving your mother a death stare as she let go of you

“she's not staying in this hellhole! she belongs on earth with the greenery and more importantly with her mother!” you mother objects, fed up with how coriolanus views this situation 

“and what the fuck do you mean married?!” your mother yelled, angered by the “marriage”

“she's married to me, what more is there to explain?” coriolanus retorts, sounding almost bored of this petty argument

“well you must've forced her and locked her up because there's no way my daughter would agree to marrying an asshole!” your mother seethed, annoyed by coriolanus’ calm reaction

what your mother said was true and both you and coriolanus knew it was true, but in that week, you had warmed up to him and no longer acted wild to escape him just as he started to treat you as his equal, telling you that there's no way in hell he would treat his queen like an object

but alas, your mother and coriolanus bickered for a while, not letting up on the insults and fighting over you as if you really were just a mere object

“i think that she should return to earth” zeus says finally, hoping that your mother would shut up now that he gave his final word that was in her favor

“see i told you! she's coming back with me!” your mother said gleefully, and coriolanus just sighed, not willing to show how heartbroken he was at zeus’ decision

after all, you two had only been married a week and a few days and now you two were being torn apart, faster than either of you intended

you open your mouth to protest but coriolanus looks at you, and you shut your mouth, knowing that he'll figure out something

“if it's ok i'd like to have at least a few minutes with my wife in private before she's snatched away from me” coriolanus said, rising from his throne and making his way towards you

your mother opened her mouth to say no, but zeus gave coriolanus the green light and he took you to a secluded hallway where you just let all your tears out

you couldn't bear the thought of losing coryo, the only man who ever cared about you and was more importantly, your husband

“shh dove don't cry please” he said, taking out a handkerchief and wiping your eyes, kissing your forehead

“i have an idea of how you can stay here with me, ok?” he said, taking out a pomegranate and handing you a few of the seeds, six to be exact 

“for every seed you eat, that's a month that you have to spend in the underworld” he explained to you

“why can't i just eat all 12? that way we can be together forever?” you sniffled, looking at him with wide eyes

“oh dove…i wish but your mother would actually kill me, plus 6 is better than nothing right?” he said urging you to eat the seeds quickly before your mother started looking for you two

you obligated, eating them all at once and wiping the juice with your hand

coryo took that hand a kissed it, promising you that those six months would go by fast and in no time you would be back here with him for the rest of the year

you nodded and bid him your farewell, kissing him hard and promising that you would bring all the pretty flowers when you came back

as your mother collected you and you both ascended to earth, coriolanus waved, realizing his eyes misted over and he indeed was crying after all the decades 

once he returned to his room, ready to wallow in his pity, he noticed something growing on the shelf near some of your possessions 

it was odd because there was no life or growth in the underworld, but once he saw what it was he smiled through his tears, knowing that it was a gift from you, to remind him of you whenever he got sad or felt lonely

the gift was quite on brand for you, it being a flower growing in the underworld 

and it did remind him of you already, as the it was a little beacons of hope for him that he'd see you again after the long wait

but in the meantime…let the torture commence 

[purple-obsidian]

miscommunication; option 2 (18+, dick grayson x fem titan reader)

⭓ !PLEASE READ! this is part of a choose-your-ending story. it will not make sense unless you start from here.

"No! Dick, please!" You stand from your chair, cloth napkin falling to the floor, watching him stalk past you towards the exit of the restaurant, anxiety filling your stomach with dread. "You're not even going to let me explain?" You call after him, ignoring the weird looks you're getting from the other guests enjoying their food.

Not about to let him leave things like this, you rush after him, finding him waiting at the valet stand outside. "Dick! You're seriously going to just walk away like that? What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" He sounds taken aback, crossing his arms and glaring at you. "What about you? What's your problem, huh? You really think I would take you somewhere as nice as this, if all I wanted to do was get into your pants? You really think that low of me?"

A loud crash of thunder echoes against the tall buildings surrounding you, but neither of you pay any mind to it, even as a light drizzle of rain begins to fall. The valet, obviously uncomfortable with the exchange that's happening, slips away to retrieve Dick's car.

"No! That's not what I- I didn't even-"

"This was a mistake. I never should have asked you-"

"DICK GRAYSON!" You shout, unable to hold back your own anger now. "You are going to shut the fuck up and let me speak, or I swear I'll-"

"You'll what?" His tone is low, and he uncrosses his arms, hands clenched into fists at his side.

You close your mouth, seething in anger at being interrupted yet again. You feel the tears coming. You can't help it. You cry when you're angry. It's something you hate about yourself, and the last thing you want to do is cry in front of him. Luckily, the rain that's slowly starting to fall helps mask it just a little.

"I didn't realize this was a date!" You finally shout, hands shaking with how worked up he has you.

Dick scoffs, looking you up and down. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are trying to backpedal now, or something? I very clearly asked you out, we have the texts to prove it."

You take a deep breathe before speaking. "I thought you were asking me to work. You've done it before, haven't you? Just last month, you texted me, last minute, asking me to help you tail that arms dealer. I thought this was something like that."

Dick's angry expression morphs to one of confusion, now second-guessing himself. "Are you being for real?"

"Yes!"

More thunder. A loud clash, and the rainfall grows heavier, slowly soaking both of you as you glower angrily at one another.

Dick finally pulls you aside so you're both standing under the awning of the Italian restaurant, safe from the oncoming downpour. He feels something hard strapped to your upper arm when he does so. "What's this?" He asks, feeling the object through the wet fabric of your sweater.

"What do you think it is? A knife." You explain, hoping he's finally starting to believe you. "I told you. I thought this was Titan's business. You didn't tell me what we were getting into, so I came prepared." Shrugging away his hand, you reach down to pull the damp garment off over your head. You're left in just your tank top now, giving Dick full view of the weapons you had concealed, along with the comm wire you two and the other titans will wear on missions.

Any trace of anger left on his face is gone. He opens his mouth to speak, stammering a little. "You mean.. but I thought… my texts…" He looks mortified. Dick isn't a man that finds himself speechless very often, but now is one of those times.

A long exhale escapes your lips, releasing a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You glance around you, and wring out the excess water from your sweater a little before pulling it back over your head, not wanting your knives to draw too much attention. "Do you understand now? I fucked up, okay? I should have clarified with you, I misunderstood what you were asking me. That's my fault. But I did not agree to this with the intention of fucking you all night. I promise."

"Fuck." Dick runs his fingers through his shaggy hair, which was styled neatly earlier but is now wet and messy from the rain. He looks at you and says your name in an apologetic tone. "I really just made a fool of myself, didn't I?"

"Yeah, no shit." You cross your arms over your stomach, rubbing your hand up and down your arm to fight off a chill. "Dick, you are one of the most amazing people I've ever met. I care about you. You're a great leader, and an even better friend. I could never just see you as someone to hook up with. Even if…" You lose your confidence at that last sentence, trailing off a little, hesitating to finish the thought.

"Even if what?" He takes a step closer to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. His eyes search yours, looking you over, trying to read you.

You swallow the lump in your throat, and reply, "Even if you're, like, the hottest guy I've ever seen." You look off to the side, avoiding the intensity of his gaze.

Finally, a smirk appears on his lips. "So… you do think I'm hot?" His embarrassment would surely be relieved somewhat, if he could confirm you did reciprocate some of his feelings.

"Objectively, yes. But I promise, that isn't what's most important to me." You see the valet arriving in Dicks car. Looking towards the bright blue vehicle, then to the dazzling eyes in front of you sporting the same hue, you try and find the right words to express what you feel. "The last thing I want to do is to make you feel objectified. Please, Dick, could we just start over? I'd love to continue our date, now that I know it is a date."

Guilt is tugging at his heart. Your sincere words have diffusing any remaining doubt or irritation that may have been lingering in the back of his mind. The hand that is on your shoulder snakes up to tangle in your hair, close to the base of your skull. "I'd like that." His tone is softer now that he's closer to you. "And I'm sorry, too."

"You don't have to apolo-"

Dick cuts you off, yet again. But not with words. This time, it's with a kiss. You freeze for a moment, not expecting the forward affection after how upset he was with the idea of you just wanting him for his body. But it only takes a second before you relax into him, hands snaking around his broad frame, relishing the feeling of his strong arms pulling you tight against him. His body heat is welcoming, but even more so are his lips, eager and assertive against your own.

The valet exits the flashy car once its parked in the loading zone. He retrieves an umbrella, but stops short when he sees the couple that were yelling at each other just a few minutes ago, now making out, soaking wet, zero regard for who's watching. He looks to Dick, then behind him to the running vehicle, unsure of what to do next.

"Sir? Excuse me, sir? Your car is ready!"

Dick ignores him. And so do you. His kisses are quelling the guilt and frustration you feel towards yourself. Its like he's pouring his love and reassurance into you with every movement of his tongue, every brush of his lips against your own. You never imagined that Dick Greyson, son of Batman, leader of the Titans, former Robin, the one and only Nightwing, would be clutching you and kissing you so passionately in a place so public. The valet continues to awkwardly try to get his attention, but Dick doesn't care. His focus is on you, and he doesn't intend on stopping until he's made this right.

⭓ go back ⭓ masterlist ⭓

what ending did you choose first? let me know here, or leave a like/comment.

don’t steal my work. don’t repost it somewhere, upload it to another site, use it to train ai, or claim it as your own.

[lis-likes-fics]

Shijetra Nyke, Mandia

Pairings: Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader Word Count: 5.9k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, technically dubcon bc coercion, fingering, implied age gap (she's laena's little sister), multiple orgasms, p in v sex, breeding kink, sort of cheating, mentions of death and war, swearing, technically reader is black but she can be read as any race, High Valyrian, Daemon is not a good person... A/N: Hey, everyone! Was trying to hold off on this one but I decided to just post it anyway. Super excited for HOTD S2 to come out in June. I promise there are ideas for Aemond but writing sucks so much ass so it's just taking a while to get to it. Thank you so much and happy reading!

The seas are steady tonight. As the moon glints off its gentle waves, the water seems to mourn as you do. It was hard to find sleep. You came all the way out here to watch the crashing waves, in hopes of finding some solace in the sea, but even it does not seem to have the strength to roar tonight.

Your nightgown blows in the soft winds of the night as you watch the ocean.

The rustling of sand pulls a sigh from you, and you grit your teeth as you turn away from the man coming to stand next to you. You don't have to look at him to know who it is. You could tell him anywhere.

“I wish to be alone,” you whisper.

Daemon clasps his hands in front of himself as he looks out at the sea. “That is understandable, my lady.”

“And, yet, you are still here.” You look up at him, your features hard as you glare.

His voice is soft. You're not quite sure it fits him. The non-confrontation in his voice feels strange.

“I thought you might need company,” he says, examining your face as he does. For a moment, you think he can see the ghosts of the dried tears you've shed. “It has been a tiring day, after all.”

You huff, turning away again. Looking at him for too long makes your skin crawl. “I have not want of company.”

He hums. “I said ‘need’, not want.”

You roll your eyes. “Alright, I have no need for your company.”

He seems unphased by your hostility. “Even so…” he looks down at you, the look in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine, “you shall have it.” You stare at him, wanting to step back but not wanting to give him that satisfaction. He turns his body to face yours, craning his head down to watch you better.

He lowers his voice to a whisper as he leans in, as if there were thousands of people here and the secret he is to bestow upon you is too dangerous to say aloud. “It is in times like these, I hear, times where we are most vulnerable, that a bit of presence does one good.”

Despite your urge to stay planted in your sandy spot, you take a small step back without breaking your feigned confidence. “Very well, then,” you say. “You may go and fetch someone else to give me presence. I do not need yours.”

He almost seems amused, though he dies it well. He leans his head back a slight. “You despise me so, yet I have done nothing.”

You let out a breathy scoff, turning away from him and toward your humorless response. “Well, that's the whole of it, isn't it?” You shake your head, your frustration piquing once more. “You've done nothing.”

He hums. “I don't think I understand.”

You look at him, and he can see the anger simmering in your gaze. “Don't you?” You step closer to him, invading his space as he does yours, daring to play his game. “Where were you when my sister left her birthing bed? Where were you when she left the walls of the castle to give herself to her dragon's breath?” Your voice broke as the pain threatened to tear apart your anger. “Where were you when she ordered Vaghar to take her life?”

He almost rolls his eyes at your accusations. “I tried to stop her.”

“But you didn't try hard enough,” you seethe. “Or she would be standing next to me.”

He steps closer, taking the control back. His voice is still quiet, though his level tone is twinged with annoyance. “Laena had her own spirit,” he insists. “She did as she liked well enough. I see not why I should have blame for her own decisions.” His near lack of regard fuels you. “And besides, she would have died anyway. The maesters told me so.”

You shove him back, and your rage is flared by the knowledge that he only moves because he allows you to move him.

“She was everything to me!” Your uneven breaths have your chest heaving as your voice echoes across the water. “Not only my sister, my blood—she was my protector.” You sigh shakily, angrily wiping away the tears welling in your eyes. Your voice softens, though not because you want it to. “Now she is gone.”

He remains silent for a moment, letting it sit until it's no longer comfortable. He tilts his head, still standing so close. “And yet, I am not to blame.”

You roll your eyes, unable to look him in the eyes anymore as you look past his head. “Do you even care?”

“Of course I care,” he insists. “She was my lady wife, after all.”

You raise a brow. “Yet you do not mourn.”

He shrugs a shoulder, entirely unconvincing. “Everyone mourns differently.”

You nod. “And you mourn by shedding no tears and strutting through the castle halls?”

Daemon hums. “You must forgive me if I have offended you, my lady.”

You stare up at him, unblinking as your rage and grief continues to give you the strength to look in his eyes and speak your truth. “You have, and I don't.”

A huge part of that strength crumbles when he steps so close to you that you're forced to step back. You falter, a momentarily fear in your eyes at the predatory gaze in his own. His eyes seem to examine you, taking in each and every little curve of your body every crease in your dress. You try not to shrink under his scrutinization.

His voice is so soft, and your flesh crawls with the sound of it. “What do you need from me?”

You have no choice but to break eye contact. It's too much, too close. You swallow thickly, your voice quieting to a low request, rather than the command you had wanted. “I need nothing from you but for you to remove yourself from my presence. Hastily.”

He stands completely still for a while, his eyes just as fixed on your face. When he moves, it almost startles you. His hand reaches up to touch your face, his fingertips brushing your cheek. You're quick to swat him away with a harsh swipe of your hand, taking a step back. “Do not touch me.”

He says nothing, and the silence is unbearable. He just…watches you. His gaze is intense, focused, terrifying. He stands there, still as a statue for the longest time, before making another attempt for your face. You're just as quick as the first, if not quicker with your flickering frustrations.

“I said don't–”

He grabs your face, not caring this time for gentleness as his dull nails dig into the flesh of your jaw and hold you, pulling you close and keeping there, no matter how much you fight him. Your heart pounds against your ribs, beating so heavily that you think it'll stop any moment now. The fear that washes over you is both a searing chill and a molten burn. “Get off of me!”

Leaning in close, he shakes his head. “Shh, “ he bids. “Hush, little river.”

You hate that. Your family calls you that on occasion because you're the youngest of the Velaryon siblings, Laena especially. It's meant to be kind, for rivers are the waters that feed the sea, but when Daemon says it, you feel so small. You feel so insignificant. He taunts you with it.

“Don't call me that,” you hiss. “Get off of me!” You try to push him away, but as you suspect, he doesn't budge. But his next words make you freeze in your spot.

“You are just as beautiful as her,” he says, tilting his head as he stares. “Your sweet sister.”

You're stunned into silence, into stillness. You stare wide-eyed at him, holding your breath as the sound of the waves slowly beginning to build and the sound of your own heart beating away in your chest fill your ears.

You blink, confusion and shock coloring your face. “What?”

He tilts his head. “I wanted you, you know,” he whispers, his words lingering in the tiny space between you. You can hardly breathe, but you can't look away with his iron grip on your face. “When I married your big sister, I wanted it to be you I would bed that night… I only settled for her.”

Your shaking breath became loud as you tried to remove his hand from you, grasping his wrist with all your strength in an effort to pull him away, to no avail. “Daemon. Don't do this–”

“Now that she has taken her leave of us, bless her…” the slightest smirk slips onto his lips, “I am free to pursue my true desires.”

You shake your head, “Daemon–”

You turn your head just in time to avoid his kiss as his lips press against your cheek. Your squirm, squeezing your eyes shut as frightened tears spring to your eyes. Daemon chuckles darkly, taking a slip of your flesh between his teeth in a nip.

You have no control when he turns your head for you. His lips press hungrily into yours, forcing his lust down your throat whether you want it or not. Your protest comes out as a whimper, and it fuels his fire as his arm snakes around your waist and pulls you flush against his body.

You push against him, struggling to get any traction to shove him away. You reach around to grab his hand at your waist, pulling at his pinkie until you've bent it too far for him to continue holding you. He pulls away, pride shining in his face as he smirks. You push him, but this time he doesn't move.

“Get your fucking hands off me before I call for Arlaryx!” Your command is sharp, but he doesn't seem all that phased by it. You honestly hadn't expected him to be.

He inclines his head back, sneering. “And bring her against my war-grown beast?” He stalks forward, invading your space again, no matter how far you stumble back. “You know your dear thing would not stand a chance.”

The thought of your precious creature in the jaws of Daemon's monstrous demon makes your blood run cold. He's right. She would not be enough against Caraxes.

You shake your head. Your voice is weak. “Please.”

He sighs contently, his smile curling into something especially evil. “I like you begging,” he purrs. “So small and sweet you are, when you do not spit venom.”

A deep snarl just barely resounds over the waves picking up about the sea. As you look over your shoulder, you both take in the sight of Arlaryx, her scales almost as blue as sapphires, a color that blends with the deep seas.

Her towering figure stalks out onto the beach, smoke billowing from her nose as she watches the both of you. Another snarl rumbles in her chest.

The faint sound of another snarl, one much different from her own, is heard seemingly in the back of your mind. But you know you did not imagine it. By the smirk on Daemon's face, you know you have not imagined it.

He bends down, his lips by your ear as he whispers. “Do you want to do this, little river?”

You stare at her, your eyes watering at the haunting images of her torn apart on the sand. Your heart thuds in your chest, and you know she feels it because she begins to snarl again. Her claws dig into the sand, her long tail swishes the water when she takes another step forward.

You steady your breath, opening your mouth and hesitating for a moment. You clear your throat, speaking as level as you can manage.

“Dohaeris, Alarlyx,” you command, swallowing roughly. “Dohaeris. Nyke sȳz.”

The beast makes no move to leave, and you sigh heavily. Curse her and her loyalties. They will get her killed.

You steel your voice, trying to sound stronger than you feel. She will not listen to you if you sound weak. “Lyrkiri,” you insist. The smoke diminishes, becoming thinner and thinner until it has stopped. “Sōvēs, Arlaryx, sōvēs.”

She lifts a heavy claw, easing slightly like she'll actually listen.

Then Daemon wraps an arm around your midsection, pulling your body against his as he presses a kiss to your forehead. You wince, squirming in his grasp.

Arlaryx’s mind seems to be made up. She crouches again, advancing slowly once more as her snarls become louder. Smoke arises once again from her nostrils as she opens her mouth, the burning heart of her rage billowing inside of her.

You both know it's just a threat. She would not put you in such danger, but Daemon's crimes against you have officially enraged her.

But Caraxes’ distant croaks and growls fill your head, and you can't stand it. You nearly shout, sounding almost as desperate as you feel as you drop your voice and command her.

“Dohaeris, Arlaryx,” you bellow. “Dohaeris se sōvēs.”

Her warning snarls are replaced with a sort of whining sound as she takes a hesitant step back. She grunts, and you watch the smoke dissipate. Unfurling her great wings, she takes flight as she disappears into the night.  Caraxes’ sounds have ceased. You sigh, almost relieved until Daemon's teeth nip at your ear. Anxiety fills you once more.

“That one is just as stubborn as you.” He kisses your cheek, his tongue darting out to taste the skin. He inhales your scent, and a shiver runs down your spine.

Shutting your eyes, you let out a shaky breath. “Just get this over with.”

Anticipation swirls in your belly, the prospect of his hands on you, his mouth, his…

But he just laughs at you, pulling away from your body and leaving you cold. You turn, surprise on your face as you try to figure out why he'd suddenly pulled away from you. Is he so fickle in his interests that he should let you go before having his way?

You have half a mind to run.

“Ȳdra daor gaomagon bona.” Don't do that. He remains close, his predatory gaze follows you. “Nyke gīmigon jaelā nyke, riña. Tepagon isse, byka qelbar.” I know you want me, girl. Give in, little river.

You clench your jaw, balling your hands into fists as you step closer. “Nyke ȳdra daor jaelagon ao,” you spit. I don't want you.

He chuckles, leaning in until your faces are inches apart. “Pirtra.” Lies.

He takes a step forward, continuing this back and forth dance—you step, he steps, forward and back, left and right. Then he begins to circle you as you stand there, feeling as small as he probably views you.

“You think I don't notice when your eyes follow me down the hall?” he asks, and the question makes your blood run cold. “You think I don't see you peeking over your cup at dinner?” He stops behind you, pressing his chest to your back and whispering in your ear, his lips caressing the shell. “You crave my touch so deeply, it makes you look pathetic.”

His arms snake around your waist as he pulls you close. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel his hand teasing you, reaching down, down, down.

“I hear you.” Your breath hitches. “At night when you touch yourself to my name.” The smallest breath slips from your lips when his hand cups your heat, his finger teasing your clit over your gown.

“Does it feel good?” His voice is a purr in your ear. “Imagining my fingers plunging inside of you? Wishing it was my teeth sunk into your flesh and not your own nails digging into your skin?”

Your legs tremble, his words resonating in your bones. You shake your head, taking a breath for courage as you object.

“You are not mine,” you whisper, your voice weak. You break out of his hold, turning to watch him as you try to recollect your wavering dignity. “Dead or alive, you are my sister's. I will not sully her memory this way.”

“Oh, come off it.” He comes closer. “Either way, your sister is dead. Why deny yourself pleasure for the memory of a dead sister?”

You slap him. His head whips to the side as your hand inspires a large red blush over his cheek. His fingers brush his skin, a large crooked grin taking his face as he slowly turns to look at you.

You take a small step back, anxiety creeping into you at the way he watches you, like prey being stalked by a cruel beast. He says nothing as he stands there. He begins to walk forward.

And you run.

Sand kicks into the air as you bolt away, your breath loud in your ears and your heart heavy in your chest. Tears spring to your ears as the exertion, the cold thrill of his hunt encourages your escape.

You don't get far. He's faster than you, and his strength is far superior to yours as he wraps his arms around you and lifts you from the ground. You kick your feet, trying to break free from his hold. But it's of no use. You shout over the crashing waves of the tides, waves that have picked up since Daemon arrived. Like they mourn with you, they fight for you, too.

He wrestles you to the ground, flipping you onto your back as he pins your arms down by your head. He looms over you, positioning himself between your legs and ignoring your fight like you're nothing against him. And perhaps you are.

“Go ahead,” he grins, spurred on by your struggle. “Pretend you despise me. Perhaps, now, you do.” He leans in close, whispering in your ear. “But we are all the way out here, with no one to hear your screams but the sea.”

Your fight diminishes, the reality of his words sinking in. You look at him, your eyes wide and struck with adrenaline-coated tears. His gaze is dark, his smile even darker. He shifts one of your arms to the other, grasping both your wrists in one of his big hands as the other strokes your side, dipping beneath your thin gown to touch your bare skin beneath. You shudder at the feeling, anxiety pooling in your belly at the knowledge that you can do nothing to fight him.

“Will you lose breath screaming or cumming?”

Your voice is weak and broken. It's barely a whisper when you speak. “Please.”

He shushes you, his lips so close to yours. You can almost feel it, the heat of his kiss as he would devour you.

And then he does. He presses his lips roughly against yours, his tongue slipping past them to taste you. He grips your side, his dull nail digging into your flesh. You can't help the whine you let out into his mouth, regretting the way you seek him out, especially after he pulls away. And he smiles triumphantly, knowing he has you right where he wants you.

“Don't worry, little river.” A quiet gasp erupts from your chest when his hand cups your bare cunt, his fingers rubbing against your folds before he parts them to plunge his finger inside of you. Your mouth falls open, sharp breaths teetering in and out at the way he touches you, at the way you clench around his finger like you'll die if he pulls away now.

“I'll give you what you've been craving all these years.”

He moves like fire. His hand is insistent as his finger plunges in and out of your wet heat, pulling more and more arousal from your already damp folds. You clench your jaw, stifling your moans as he forces the pleasure down your throat.

When he thrusts another finger inside of you, you moan at the stretch, your eyes rolling back at the way he curls them inside of you. You grab his arm, gripping it tight, though you're not sure if you're trying to stop him or not.

He moves quickly. You don't have time to catch up with the harsh thrusts of his fingers, so you lay back and take it as the pleasure explodes all over your body.

It feels so good. His fingers reach deeper, faster, too. The feeling of someone else's fingers inside of you instead of your own is so foreign. Your frantic breath makes you light-headed, and you can hardly keep your thoughts straight.

“I know it's exhausting,” he mumbles as his palm slaps against your clit, “fighting me.”

But you must fight. For your sister, who meant so much to you. You must fight against this man who let her die. Who would you be if you allowed yourself to succumb to your late sister's husband? She practically raised you, and this is how you repay her?

But here you are. She died hardly two days ago, and you were laying on the sand with Daemon's fingers in your cunt.

Being in this position is surreal. Because he was right, you had been craving this moment for years, wanting so deeply to feel Daemon's passion on your skin. His lips brush your cheek, and he murmurs into your ear. “You'll feel better when you let go.”

Your breath hitches. “Daemon.”

“That's it,” he smirks, feeling you leaning into him. “Close your eyes and give in to me, little river.”

Your eyes flutter shut. The pace of his hand, the feeling of his fingers thrusting so deeply, the pleasure scours your body until you feel yourself reaching your limit.

“Ȳdra daor keligon, Daemon,” you sigh, your voice high with bliss as you pull your hands away from his grasp. “Nyke jorrāelagon ziry.” Don't stop. I need it.

“Qilōni?” Who?

“Ao!” You! You moan, rolling your hips into his hand as he continues to coax your release from you. Your head is spinning, and you've long since left reason behind. “Nyke jorrāelagon ao,” you beg. I need you.

You turn your head to lay your eyes upon the sea, the pleasure within you swelling like the waves crashing against the shore. “Shijetra nyke, mandia.”

Forgive me, sister.

Your lips part and your back arches off the sand as you come undone. Your moans echo off the waters, becoming all the worse when Daemon's teeth nip the flesh of your neck.

It feels amazing, freeing almost. His hand continues to work out through your pleasure, even when it all fades into oversensitivity. He lets go of you, pulling away from your body and staring down at you. You watch through hooded eyes as he examines his hand, watching the way your arousal glistens off his fingers in the moonlight. He looks at you as he licks his fingers clean.

The scene is so erotic, the way he groans at the taste of you on his tongue. “Such a magnificent treat you are,” he hums. He bends down and takes your lips against his own, his tongue licking into your mouth as you taste yourself on him.

You watch as his hand reaches for his belt, and you can't help the way your legs close at the thought of him revealing himself to you. He reaches a hand out, gripping your knee and pushing your legs apart again. “Do not move.”

You do as you're told, waiting with bated breath as he unlatches his belt and sets himself free. You gasp silently at the sight of him, long and solid and flushed pink at the tip. When your eyes lock with his, he looks quite proud of himself.

Daemon turns you on your belly, positioning you as he wants you, with your face shoved into the sand and your hips in the air. His harsh hands grope your body, your ass, your waist, your thighs. You groan, your hips jerking when his thumbs spread your folds apart.

“You're fucking dripping,” he says, a dark smirk in his words as he runs a finger between them.

“Kostilus,” you whisper, taking handfuls of sand to try to control yourself. You were in too deep. Your desire for him has turned to a desperate need embedding itself in the pit of your stomach. Please.

He chuckles, “Say it again.”

You have no mind to refuse him. You've long since lost your dignity, and you've betrayed your sister like you never thought you would. It's too late for you. Why deny yourself pleasure over broken promises?

“Kostilus, Daemon,” you whine, shuddering at the way his hand strokes down your spine. “Nyke jaelagon ao.” I want you.

He puts you out of your misery with a harsh thrust into your needy cunt. You moan, your heavy breaths blowing sand into the air. “Ondoso se gods…” By the gods…

A long groan rumbles in his chest as he closes his eyes, relishing in the feel of your tight pussy. “Fuck,” he curses as he bottoms out. “You are a virgin.” He grips your hips, burying himself so deep that you feel like you can't breathe. “With all your supposed virtue, I thought you were pretending you weren't a dirty whore.”

As he grips you tight, Daemon doesn't take you, he fucks you. He holds you, digs his nails in your flesh. He thrusts his cock in and out of your tight hole, fast and rough and with the recklessness of a starving man devouring his food. The ocean rages. You're not sure if it's a reflection of your betrayal or your need. The sea is strange in that way, it's versatility.

You wish you could disappear into the dark waters, break away from this beast of a man and let the sea consume you. At least then you'd be at peace with yours, part of the waters of your bloodline.

But here are you, consumed by fire as you ignore the burn of the sand scratching your skin. It's a molten kind of pleasure, the kind that oozes out of you in lingering bliss and deep desires. You're slick with arousal, which makes it easier for him to glide in and out of you. His relentless pace smacks against you, the sound of it echoes through the air with the heavy heat of his passion.

Your position is so compromising. Anyone could happen across you. Anyone could walk the shoreline and find you being fucked into the sand by your sister's husband.

Your rationale falls short because the fear of it is nowhere near as strong as it should be. If the lords of Pentos saw you, they would surely gossip. Word would spread through the city, and that word would spread all the way across the sea. Everyone would know, your nieces, your brother, your mother and father. They would reject, disown you. They would strip you of Velaryon, you would be just another Waters bastard of Driftmark.

You could say he made you. You could tell them he threw you to the sand and took you as he pleased, ravaged you as though you were nothing but meat. But Corlys would go to war over you. To have your honor destroyed in such a way, it would be a war of sea against fire, a war full of bloodshed and hatred.

The idea has you running cold, but the chill doesn't last long with the way Daemon's hips thrust into you, full of his own fire.

“What I wouldn't give to spend every moment snug in this virgin cunt,” he grunts, reaching forward as he flattens his hand against the back of your skull. He twists your hair around his fingers and pulls, keeping you secure in his grip. You go limp at the feeling, the weakness seeping into your bones.

“Perhaps I should breed you,” he sighs with a laugh. “I'll fill you full of my seed, maybe even keep you as my broodmare. I'll keep you round with my children, always ready for me to fuck as I please. Is that what you want, little river?”

So truly blinded by your pleasure, you have no choice but to agree. You lean into the way he makes you feel, letting your troubles melt away, your concerns and your hesitations a thing of the past. They will do you no good now.

“Yes,” you gasp, allowing yourself to be ravaged. “Yes, Daemon, I want that.”

The triumphant look in his eyes shines at the way you give in so completely. Empowered by your submission, his thrusts become more merciless. He grunts and groans behind you, tugging on your hair and holding you still as you return the passion.

All of the sudden, he pulls out of you, leaving you cold and shaking. A stray whine seeps off your tongue, but you have no time to let it linger before he’s flipping you onto your back. He throws your legs onto his shoulder and shoves himself back inside of you in just a couple fluid motions. His ruthless thrusts have you nearly crying for him. The blunt head of his cock reaches so deeply like this, punching against that spongy part inside of you as stars swirl in your vision.

“It feels so good,” you moan, though you’re sure your words are nearly incoherent. It feeds Daemon’s ego either way, encouraging a rougher fuck as he gives you what you want, gives himself what he’s been craving all along. He was right. You do feel as good as he thought, better even. You’re so tight, so inexperienced and untouched that all of his cruel pleasure wrecks your body in your sensitivity.

“You can get louder, can’t you?” he asks, bending down to fold you in half for a different angle.

Your head falls back against the sand. You must look a mess, covered in tiny grainy crystals, hair all over the place. But it doesn’t matter. That’s probably what he wants. Your hands reach up to touch his face, pulling him close as he continues to fuck into you. His thrusts are shorter, harder now. You’re running out of breath quickly, struggling to keep up.

“Fuck, don’t stop!” The breathy wail feels almost like it was forced from your lungs. As he reaches his hand down to touch your clit, you’re done for and you know it. “Oh, Daemon, please.”

He’s intent on making you cum, and with the skill he’s acquired throughout his years, you know he’ll be successful. He’s already got you crying his name.

“Are you going to cum on my cock, girl?” he questions, his breath heavy and his hair messy upon his head. “I know you want to, you’re squeezing me so tight.” You cant your hips up into his own, seeking out your sweet release as he hangs it over your head. “Tell me who you want.”

Your eyes, blurry with tears, watch him hazily. “You.”

He tuts. “You can do better than that. If you want to cum, you will tell me who you want to breed this tight little hole of yours.”

You have no mind to refuse him—you have no mind to do anything but follow where the pleasure takes you. With shallow breaths, you blink pleasure tears from your eyes. “I want you, Daemon. Please, I want you to cum in me and make me your whore.”

He doesn’t know if you could have said it any better. Making harsh circles over your clit, he fucks you with all the strength he’s got. You feel like he’ll bruise you with how brutal he’s being. You feel a tightening coil in your belly, one that just clenches and clenches and clenches with every circle on the sensitive pearl he attacks.

“Cum for me, little river,” he commands, leaving you and your body no room to refuse him as he pulls it out of you. “Cum all over my cock and scream my name like the perfect whore that you are.”

And you obey. It’s like a lever being pulled. One moment you’re teetering on the edge, the next you're arching your back and feeling pleasure consuming your body in a fire that makes you shiver. He doesn’t stop fucking you. If anything, the way you tighten around him only makes his thrusts shorter and his grinding rougher. You’re dizzy and your moans are high and pathetic.

He doesn’t stop attacking your clit. You’re so sensitive, once the pleasure wanes and the movements sting, you squirm away from him, but he doesn’t care. He holds you in place and commands you as though you were one of the dragon beasts he meant to train. He wraps his free hand around your throat, leaning down to bite and suck at your neck. “Dohaeris,” he hisses, his tone sharp and quiet but full of so much of a threat that you bear through the discomfort until it twists in your gut into the dizzying sensation of overstimulated pleasure again.

His name falls from your lips like a chant. The sound of it continues to spur him on, his thumb becoming faster as he searches for that same release for himself. “Please, Daemon,” you whimper, “please cum inside of me. I need you to cum inside of me, please.”

You tip him over the edge. With a growl, he shoves his cock as far as he can go, far enough that it hurts when he buries himself so deep. Grinding into you, his hot release fills you to the brim. Encouraged by the adrenaline, his ruthless thumb carries on until you’re cumming with him.

Your sounds mix in the air, his grunts, your moans, the squelching sound of his cock thrusting into your clenching cunt. “Fuck, you take me so well,” he praises, his voice rough with the effects of his release.

With two more thrusts, as rough as he can make them—just for the fun of it—he pulls out of you. You whine, laying limply on the sand. He watches you, smiling at the way you seem to struggle to stay conscious.

He considers just leaving you there to recuperate on your own.

Daemon adjusts himself, stuffing his cock back into his trousers and fixing his belt. He stares at your cunt all the while, using his fingers to shove his cum back inside of you every time it begins to leak out.

He sits you up, fixing your gown and pulling your face to sit inches from his own. “Iksā ñuhon,” he mutters into your ear, his words clear. “Daorys kostagon renigon ao sir.” You shudder at his claim, your eyes fluttering shut as he whispers to you. You are mine. No one can touch you now.

”Do you understand me?” he asks, and you know you cannot refuse.

Not that you ever want to.

You nod slowly, looking up at him as you accept your fate. “Kessa, Daemon.”

He hums. “Good.” Staring at your lips, he leans in and kisses you. He kisses you with force and power, using a kind of domination that was quite unnecessary—given the fact that he’d already taken your virginity and, quite possibly, bred you with his children. There’s a hint of something in the background, however, a hunger, a desperation that seeps into your skin and makes you feel warm.

Under the cruelty is a gentleness that is entirely foreign to you. You chalk it up to imagination as he pulls away, pinching your cheek. “Come with me,” he orders. “I am not done with you yet, my little river.”

Shijetra nyke, mandia.

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[yanderes-galore]

Yandere Anakin who’s fallen for a senator reader , the only problem is that she’s in an arranged marriage to someone else !! 😲 love to hear your thoughts and I hope your doing ok 

Oh boy, this is going to be so problematic.... GIF may be Clone Wars, but this is just in general. Him and Padmé aren't together in this concept.

Yandere! Anakin Skywalker with Senator! Darling

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Stalking, Possessive behavior, Manipulation, Assassination, Anakin screws up politics/probably starts a war because he loves you too much, Dubious relationship.

You first met Anakin when he was assigned as your personal protector by the Jedi Council.

Naturally, as a Senator, you'd need protection from potential assassinations.

Any government has its corruption, so you'd need some sort of extra protection.

Especially due to your arranged marriage to create good political ties between two planets.

You're a human Senator that was selected to marry another for the sake of keeping up peace.

Not everyone is on board with such a marriage, and due to your influence in the Senate, people naturally want you dead.

Which leads to Anakin being sent to guard you.

At first, Anakin may not care about your arranged marriage.

But the longer he's around you... He feels increasingly envious.

It takes time, your arranged marriage doesn't actually occur until months after you have Anakin as your personal guard.

Relationships and personal connections are banned within the Jedi Order.

So, Anakin having feelings for you is immediately wrong.

Not only that, but you're set to marry someone else.

Which is even more wrong.

Safe to say, you are someone Anakin can't have.

Or... shouldn't have... even if he wants that.

By this point, Anakin is still mostly devoted to the Jedi Order.

He knows while his feelings are normal... He can't act on them.

He's a guard, staying beside you to prevent assassination attempts or Sith attacks.

Despite this... You two share conversation often.

How could you not? Your guard is with you all the time.

You often chat while you read in the libraries or do your usual tasks.

Both of you are bound by duty, might as well make the most of it.

Naturally the conversation is about duty... which leads into your arranged marriage.

Anakin can't help but bring it up.

He's drawn to the conversation topic, often asking if you're happy about it and if you're nervous.

You humor him by answering questions, not expecting much from it.

Not like he as a Jedi can do anything about it except protect you.

Your responses are often off-handed as you're invested in some book or meeting material.

There's a couple times you meet your betrothed, usually for political matters.

He's a decent man, most likely a human like you to be able to produce children.

Each meeting you have with your betrothed makes Anakin seethe.

The Jedi can't believe he's glaring at your fiancé with so much hate.

He shouldn't have such feelings of envy.

However... Anakin has always been an individual controlled by emotion.

Why else do you think he becomes a Sith?

He feels your marriage is forced, regardless of if you like the guy or not.

He wants you safe and happy.

Something Anakin feels he could do for you.

Anakin wishes you two could both run away from your responsibilities.

Unfortunately, you're very attentive to your duty as a Senator.

Even if Anakin admitted how he feels, you'd turn him down.

He's your guard, that is all...

He hates it.

Like the Sith, this whole situation fills him with hate.

Anakin would most likely try to manipulate you into giving in and running from him.

Yet, if you're not interested in him, then he might have to resort to other means.

I can't tell if this is too OOC or not, but imagine if an assassination was planned against your betrothed.

Anakin knows he should probably tell someone or prevent it (if he himself didn't orchestrate it)... but what if he's selfish enough to not?

What if Anakin allows the assassination of your betrothed to occur?

He'd never let an assassin near you.

But your betrothed? He could care less.

You may be devastated, yet Anakin stays stoic.

He pretends he isn't elated that your betrothed is dead.

Instead, he says it isn't safe anymore... you need to go into hiding.

Yes, Anakin could care less about the political issues any of this causes.

It's even worse if Anakin somehow helped in it and now two sides blame one another.

Insert possible war here.

All Anakin cares about is taking advantage of the situation.

It's selfish, it's so damn selfish, but for now he has you all to himself?

While you're in hiding... He just has to convince you to love him....

Surely you'll fall for him since he's protecting you?

He's careful with it, trying to be subtle and make you fall for him on your own.

He's desperate....

If you're concerned about him in the Order... things can be secret!

That... or maybe he'll just leave?

I would say this feels OOC... but considering what Anakin does in the future... It's not too far-fetched?

Overall, Anakin would try to suffocate his feelings due to the duty of both of you.

Yet the moment he gets the chance to act on them, murder or not...?

He'll take that chance in a heartbeat.

[chikai-k]

We Need A Break.

•| Kaveh X Male Reader, hints of Alhaitham X Kaveh

•| Notes: So angst with the characters as parents right? I haven't written in a long time and all so this might be a bit janky in terms of execution. I feel like the ending is a little awkward but it's whatever, I just wanted to get something out 😞 It was originally gonna be Aether since my debut was an Aether fic but I decided I wanted to add my bbg Kaveh to my list of characters hehe also wrote this at 3-4am :)

•| CW: Kaveh is the baby momma🤧, male reader, cheating accusations, arguments, break? divorce?

Here we go.

It's unhealthy to subject your daughter to this.

She doesn't deserve to hear your problems.

You and Kaveh have tried everything in your power to keep the issue away from her attention, to make sure she can't see the cracks forming.

How Kaveh would tuck her to bed, holding back a grimace as he spots the time. He tries his best to stall, she can tell. Kaveh doesn't want to leave her side. How his sweet voice would read her bed time stories as slowly as he could, sometimes staring at her with soft eyes as he presses a goodnight kiss on her forehead. She is his baby. He loves her with every part of his being.

She knows something's wrong. She could sense it before but you two can't keep quiet when the arguments get heated downstairs. She can hear you two from the floor. She can hear you throwing accusations, hear the crack in Kaveh's voice when he says he's not seeing his co worker—but you just won't drop it.

"I see the way you two look at each other." You say, "I see the way you guys give subtle touches." You know that they're probably texting each other about things to do when you're working. "The neighbours themselves have testified that they've seen Alhaitham enter our home when I'm at work for fucks sake! Stop lying to me." You growl, teeth baring at him as your face is flushed in anger, fist clenching by your side.

Kaveh hiccups and shakes his head, "Please, I'm telling you, we're not! Why won't you believe me?" His hand is gripping his wrist and is tucked close to his chest as if protecting himself. He doesn't know what went wrong.

"Then tell me why he's been visiting so much when I'm out! It's not like he's here for our daughter is he? She's always in school, so what else could he be here for?!"

"I—I can't—" Kaveh shook, how was he supposed to explain? He's not cheating, he swear but...

"Bullshit. You and that Alhaitham guy—ugh—" You inhale, your hand shooting up to brush your hair angrily. Tempted to slam it down the counter but you'd risk waking up your daughter from the noise. Hm.

Kaveh eyes your fist warily. He never knew you as physical so he wasn't worried—hoping he didn't need to but with how the tension was going, he was afraid he'd get hurt."What's so different about him and me? Is it the muscles? The income? The looks?" You seethed through your teeth, blindsided by the jealousy that you'd missed the way he stepped back cautiously. "Or did you just fall out of love for me? Or is he secretly our daughter's real father?" You huffed, closing your eyes as you tugged at your hair.

Usually, Kaveh would give you a massage, whisper sweet things and gently pull of your fingers from your hair out of concern. But how could he when he was...scared?

"N-no, I love you." Kaveh hiccuped once more, "I..." He bit his lip as he couldn't help the the tears from spilling. He couldn't bring himself to mean it. It felt forced, like he was saying it to survive and saying it felt wrong. I love you is supposed to be affectionate and meaningful, not like this.

"I think..." He sighs as he watches you gaze back, once furious expression softening in realisation at what he was about to say. "I think we need a break. To cool our head...I'm sorry." He struggles to finish, flinching as you attempt to approach him. Right now, he didn't know who you were. Actually, he hadn't know who you were for the past couple of months.

He just needs some space to breath, to find the words to tell you why Alhaitham had been visiting...

[bratphilia]

would it be a bother to ask for a fic w a tomboy reader and william afton? ive been on such a kick w william afton x reader fics here since i watched the movie and i love all of them but i am not feminine in the slightest so if you could write one id be so grateful!! and age gap and size difference too would also be sooo 👌👌👌. thank you so much!!!

note ✧.*‎ this was a lil hard for me to write considering im on the girly-er side so if anything looks weird in relation to the premise i apologize in advance!! also so sorry for getting this out a lil later than promised.

pairing ✧.*‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎ age difference (reader is 18-21, william is 45-50), degrading, spanking, approximately two slaps to the face, blow jobs, rubbing through jeans? idk what to call that, coming in pants (fem)

taglist ✧.*‎ @dilfity

synopsis ✧.*‎ while attending yet another meeting with your career counsellor, he has a few choice of words for you.

jeans (w. afton x reader)

you sit in mr. raglan's office, trying to sit straight up, legs crossed, not bouncing. he slightly shifts in his chair as he reads your file, moving his spinning chair from side to side, as he mentally scrutinizes your report. it's nerve-wracking. anyone in your shoes would feel this way, but the way he's intently reading over every little detail makes you squirm.

the worst part is, this isn't even the first time you've been in this exact position. it wouldn't be so bad if mr. raglan wasn't such a hard ass on you. always practically demanding answers of why you keep getting let go from the jobs he gives you, criticizing the tiniest details. nothing gets passed this guy, and yet here you are.

(there's something that almost riles you up about the way he talks to you, though. he has a habit of talking with those big hands of his in a way that makes your insides twist.)

"so you sit here in front of me..." he pipes up suddenly, looking at you then lifting a brow, "wearing jeans to a meeting, for christ sake, asking for yet another job, so what? you can get 'let go' again?"

"well, yes," you say, a little dumbstruck at his comment on your attire.

mr. raglan laughs shortly. "i got news for you, kid. people with your kinda track record don't exactly find jobs as easy as you think they do."

you hold back from rolling your eyes. your fists clench at your side angrily. you speak through gritted teeth, "look, i just need a job. i'll take anything, i'm desperate."

"hate to break it to you, but things just don't work like that—"

you've had it. "will you just stop being such an asshole and give me my damn options already?! i didn't come here to be lectured."

you're seething, breathless from your outburst. your heart is pounding but nothing can beat the jaw-slacked look on his face. there's a deafening silence that has you on the edge of your seat. then, shortly, "you come here for advice, and i'm giving it to you."

you want to say something again, you open your mouth to do so, but he raises a hand to silence you promptly. "you said you're desperate, hm? want my real, useful advice?"

you stare at him, not liking the direction of this conversation or his weirdly tone of dripping malice. "get the fuck on your knees then."

it's hot, you'll admit it. and he's the whole package too, total dad-i'd-like-to-fuck and all. this isn't your type of deal, but if he's gonna offer it to you, fuck it, you'll take it. you'll take everything this man gives you. "mr. raglan—" you say, purposefully furrowing your brows, trying to act scandalized for godsake—

"get your ass over here," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

you shut up, perking up at that, and make way to the open space between his legs. "look at you, you degenerate thing. on your knees for such a cause."

your head swims and the buzzing between your thighs becomes far too apparent to be ignored. but you're willing to wait for that relief. you part your lips expectantly, hoping he'd get the message to undo his pants and he just laughs at you. "filthy fucking thing wants my cock in her mouth so bad."

"uh-huh," you say, mouth still open.

he does away with all the restraints and guides his cock into your mouth. eagerly, you take him and lick up the underside of his dick, eliciting a groan from him. he makes a fist around your hair and guides your mouth up and down his cock, not caring about what you can and can't take and you fucking love it.

the noises of him hitting your gag reflex is music to the mouth of your ears. the way you push him out only for him to slide back in is truly a marvel. and the grunts, groaning, and degradations that come from him makes you want to take him even faster, more than what your body can handle, and he just laughs it off, commenting on much of an "eager, filthy thing" you are.

when you feel his helping hands thrust your mouth more erratically is when he decides to pull you off. he uses your hair to stand you up and practically shove you against the desk, back facing towards him. you yelp in pain, only adding to the ache in your stomach. he stands to his full height and you gulp. fuck, he's so much bigger than you, of course he can just throw you around like that. when you ask him if you should remove your clothes, he pauses for a moment, thinking. then, mischievously, "no, i want to make good use of those jeans."

curiously, you look back at him, but his fingers are pressing against your clothed pussy. he presses hard, letting the fabric grind on you. "oh, fuck," you moan.

"yeah? you like that?" he asks gruffly, rubbing your clit through your pants from side to side. usually this stimulation wouldn't be enough, but fuck you were so hot for him that you didn't care. "fuckin' dressed like a boy," he scoffs.

tears burn in your eyes, partly from his words, the other part from the stimulation. then he slaps you across the face. "i asked you a fucking question."

"yes!" you cry, moving a hand to rub at your stinging cheek. he grabs your hand and then slaps the other side of your face, just for fun. a few tears slip down your face at his physicality, but doesn't change that fact that you, "love it so much!"

"think you deserve to come?" he asks. "after that shit you pulled. you think you deserve it?"

you sniffle, knowing damn well what his answer's going to be. "well, i don't."

he removes his hands then promptly wipes them on his pants. you sob out, grasping for his hands but he pushes off of you. "you better come back with a better attitude if you expect anything more than what i gave you."

[tw1l1te]

blueberry₊˚✩⊹sal fisher x reader₊˚✩⊹

(Not edited, so please forgive men if there are grammatical/spelling errors. Random thought I came up with. Please let me know if you'd like more backstory/a continuation of this!

Sitting on top of Addison Apartments was a place to think. A place of silence except the sounds of breathing and the occasional shuffling around. You haven't been up here in a while, since the fight you and Sal had a few months ago.

₊˚✩⊹

"God you're such a hypocrite. You keep telling others to take care of themselves and not isolate, but yet you don't give two shits and don't even take your own advice. Not answering your phone or leaving your apartment for over two months? Do you know how worried Ash was? How heartbroken and distant Larry became?? We thought you were fucking dead Y/n. And after all that you decide to drop by and ask 'what's up'?" Sal seethed, his tone getting more hostile by the second.

You don't think you've ever seen him so angry.

"I'm sorry Sal, I didn't mean to make you all worry. That was the last thing I wanted you guys to feel. You know I don't handle my mental health well," you murmured, avoiding Sal's eyes. You could already feel the tears streaming down your face.

"Listen I get it Y/n, but you can't just cut us off like that. You made us all husks of what we used to be. Do you know how many nights I stayed up till the early morning just staring at my phone, hoping you'd at least call?? I couldn't even remember what you sounded like until today."

"Bluebe-"

"Don't call me that. You have no right calling me that after the months of heartbreak and worry you've caused us. Every time this happens, I get my hopes up in that you won't shut us out and disappear. I get disappointed every. Single. Time. You're lucky that Larry, Ash, and Todd are such forgiving people. You don't deserve them."

You mulled over his words. He was right. You didn't deserve them. All the affection and love that they gave you all for you to throw it down the drain when you got too ill. The hundreds of phone calls from Ash. The constant check-ins from Larry over the walkie-talkie, talking about stupid shit that happened that day or speaking softly about how much he missed you. Todd emailing you every few days asking how you were holding up and if you needed anything, but eventually those emails automatically went to spam. And Sal. Sal was probably the hardest to avoid.

He sat outside your apartment door for hours, talking, pleading you to let him in to talk. He brought snacks and slid them under the door, worried if you were eating enough. Playing his guitar for you through the walkie-talkie, hoping it would soothe you or cheer you up. Sliding random doodles and letters under the door so you had something to help remind you about how much they cared about you. How much he cared for you. You kept them all under the bed in a shoe box, reading over every word and cat doodle every single night.

"I can't do this again, Y/n. You've hurt me over and over and over again. Each time I expected it to end different."

He took a pause, waiting for a reaction or a word from you.

"We're done. I don't know about the others, but don't bother writing or talking to me. I can't do this anymore."

And with that, he headed downstairs, not sparing you a single glance back.

₊˚✩⊹

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the rooftop door creak open.

You don't look back, hoping the person would get a hint and leave.

You hear the footsteps get closer, and stopping right beside you.

"Didn't think you came up here anymore." he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

Fuck. He was probably the last person you wanted to see right now.

"I come here to think." you stated, looking out to the street and nearby houses.

"Y/n, I'm sor-" "I'm leaving." you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say.

You've thought about your time in Nockfell and decided that it was time for you to move on. You couldn't be stuck in a time capsule forever. The more time had passed, the more it had started to hurt being here and see reminders of what had happened. Reminders of him.

"What?" he whispered, finally looking at you.

"I need to move on. I can't be here anymore." you stated, trying to keep your voice level.

"You were right, I can't keep leaving people in the dark and constantly worrying them. I'll keep doing that if I stay here. I need to be somewhere else, I don't know where, but I'll figure it out."

"Y/n. If this is about what I said, I'm sorry, I was in a bad state too. I was just so worried that something had happened-"

"Sal, please stop. I'm not changing my mind. I'm leaving tomorrow morning-"

"What about Ash? Larry and Todd? What about me?? I need you here. It was wrong of me to shut you out, to ignore you. I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You finally looked at him, right into his blue eyes.

His hair had gotten longer, choppier, like he'd tried to cut it himself. No longer in the pigtails you loved. Seems like you'd both changed.

"I need to go, Sal."

You walk away, not looking back because if you did, you wouldn't be able to leave. You wouldn't be able to leave them. Leave Nockfell. Leave him.

"I'll see you around, Blueberry."

₊˚✩⊹

[hegoeshardasfuck]

you can have my everything

wordcount: 4.1K

tags: breeding kink, light praise kink, creampie, friends with benefits, begging, pegging, hair pulling, fluff, minor subdrop, sub Itachi

synopsis: "Just, hear me out on this, I fuck you." / "That's how it always goes." / "What if I breed you." / He hates the way that the idea makes his heart skip several beats.

authors note: i need to do unholy things to this man, hope ya'll enjoy

Itachi let's you brush his hair sometimes, run your fingers through it, braid it, just sorta mess with it. He reads as you do so, he reads and he writes and he tries to fall asleep. You don't get much free time to hang out with him these days, but it is nice when he isn't stuck on the job and can be with you instead.

You miss when his missions came in slower, when being part of the Anbu didn't mean he was always doing something out there. When it just got him on good terms with his father and earned even more respect to his name.

Still, good for him.

He's Anbu, you're just a cruddy shinobi who barely made it to chuunin.

In spite of your status quo being different, he still likes to hang out with you. Be your friend with many benefits that range from nights in the sheets to extra training time.

The whole weight of his body rests quaintly between your legs as you brush through his hair, "Why do you like my hair so much?"

You shrug, "It's nice, really soft when you take care of it properly."

He falters for a moment, "Then how come you never pull it?"

It catches you off guard. Your hands still, "Itachi what the fuck are you talking about?"

Red rises up to his cheeks, he doesn't get blush like this often, nice change of pace. "I mean during our affairs, how come you never pull my hair when we're in bed?"

"You never asked for it," You answered with as curtly as you could. He's right. How come you never pulled his hair? He's got enough of it to really muss it up, to really reign him in.

"It's awkward," Itachi said quietly, "Anbu status doesn't make asking you to pull my hair any less..." He pauses and gestures a bit.

"Itachi, I've cleaned blood and gore off of every square inch of your body," You said as you started to sift through his hair once more, "How awkward could it be?"

He stays quiet.

"C'mon, we're friends, you can trust me with anything." You tug his hair weakly.

He bites his tongue as the slight sting runs through his scalp.

"Wow." The word falls from your lips without you realizing it, "I knew you were sensitive, but I didn't think you were this sensitive."

"Shut up," Itachi seethed, he did little to get your hands out of his hair.

-/-/-/-

You start small.

Teasing your grip in Itachi's hair as he rocks back his hips to meet yours. One hand on his hip, and the other tangled up in tussled locks.

The moan that runs through him is downright delicious as you bear down and yank. Not worryingly harsh, but rough enough that pain shoots down his spine. His knees go weak and his fingers wrench into the sheets.

He hisses out curses as the tingle of pleasure settles in. It was a staggering jolt ever closer to the edge that he likes to teeter on when you're the one in control. He swallows thickly as you tenderly curl a finger up in a lock of hair.

Then you're coiling your hand in a tangle of hair and digging your nails into his hip and bottoming out. You yank hard, his head jerks back to counter the stressing on his body as he legs threaten to give. Holy fuck.

Something akin to a throaty yowl escapes him as you do it again. Pulling out and harshly thrusting in, and tugging to the point it makes him whimper. Climax rushes him, barreling him down- he's just focused on the tingle in his spine creeping down from the crown of his head.

"Good boy." Your voice is a bit rough, but not in a harsh way. It's just not quite tender and loving either- Itachi knows it's intimacy.

You let go of his hair and his head drops and his body drops with it. Slumped into the sheets and almost shaky, he didn't think it would be that good. He knew it would be decent at the worst, maybe a little bit of technique for you to keep him on his toes.

He didn't even come to imagine it leaving him like this in record time. You've pushed him past this point (not with ease, mind you), but it still leaves him in shock.

Hair pulling.

That's his shit.

His shit is hair pulling.

Why couldn't he have had a useful kink instead of this one?

You slide back your hips and you wish that he was oozing cum after you fuck him. Sadly you still haven't found the time to bring that up with him. Maybe now's a good time...? You did just do him a favor and pull his hair so hard he came.

With practiced motions you unclip the leather harness and slide it off your hips and place it aside. You reach for a bottle of water and watch as Itachi sits up and immediately hangs his head in defeat. There's still cum on his abdomen, his hair is still messy, his breath is still heavy. And he's already regretting it.

"Did I pull too hard?" You ask quietly.

"What? No, no absolutely not," Itachi said. He tried to give you a reaffirming look, but he was too dazed for it to have the ideal effect. He sighed, "Hair pulling..."

With cautiousness heavy on your voice, you speak again, "Did you like it?"

"Of course I did! I think that's the shortest time we've spent together where you fucked me successfully. It was great," Itachi tried to explain, he really did, but he was just a bit too caught up in himself to get it all out. He takes another deep breath, "Really, that was really short."

You give a hum. He's right. You'd much rather keep him on the edge of pleasure for far longer than that short little bout, "Wanna go again?"

"Obviously-" He cuts himself off, "I just, of course it had to be hair pulling."

"Are you... Kinkshaming yourself?" You asked as gently as you could.

It takes a moment for Itachi to register what you've said and line it up with his reactions.

That's exactly what he's doing.

And he just doubles down, "I'm firstborn, I have to be powerful, I have a name to uphold, I have plans."

"I don't see where you thinking that it's hot when I pull your hair is gonna come in and ruin all of that," You said.

Itachi dropped down onto his back, "Why couldn't it have been breeding?" The words are wistful and almost disappointed in himself.

"I already peg you, Itachi," You said. You dropped down to lay beside him. Both of you need to wash off but whatever, you can do that later, "Shocked it took you this long to realize you might like getting dominated."

He shoots up, "No I don't!" The red flush across his face says otherwise.

"They really weren't kidding when they said that all Uchiha are repressed, but you know what?"

Itachi sighed, he's not ready for whatever bullshit is about to fall out of your mouth, "What?"

"Things'll work out just fine, you'll figure it out."

He laughs a bit, "You say that like you have yourself entirely figured out, come on now, we're both in our youth."

"Yeah, plenty of time to experiment."

"Let's lay off on the experimenting for a while, sound good?"

"No pegging?"

"It's not experimenting if we already know that we both like it, even if it is... Abnormal."

A brief pause of silence washes over the both of you.

"So," You start with, "Wanna talk about that breeding thing you mentioned?"

"We aren't even, we're never going too-"

"Little bit of sexy acting won't get me pregnant."

"Alright." Itachi sighed, he was really about to unpack this, wasn't he? At least you're trustworthy with this information. He doubts he'd even let anyone else see past his bedroom door these days, let alone have them walk in and inspect the place.

You're a safe place for him.

"We can talk about it."

-/-/-/-

"Shame it isn't actually that hot," Itachi said as he washed away the sweat on your body. Warm water lapped at the both of you, he'll always be thankful for large bathtubs during aftercare.

"The water?" You asked bluntly.

"No, I mean breeding," Itachi corrected. The awkwardness had went down a bit for him, he still felt stilted about it though.

You raise a brow, "Haven't we already tested that?"

"We did, but it didn't really do anything," Itachi said, "Fucking you wasn't as good as I thought it would be."

"Isn't that why you let me start pegging you?"

"That was a long time ago, but, yes, that was the reason I agreed."

"But you still think that breeding is hot?" You gesture for him to spin around so you can reach his back. You gripped too firmly, you're not sure if it broke skin. Better clean him up regardless of that.

"After that disappointment, not as much as I used to."

"Maybe we're going about it wrong."

Itachi raised a brow, then he tilted his head back and leaned against your knees so you could see his face, "How so?"

"You like it when I'm in control, right?"

A nod.

"And you like it when I call you a good boy and pull your hair?"

Another nod.

"And you really like it when your legs shake the morning after?"

One more nod, about twice as ashamed.

"Just, hear me out on this, I fuck you."

"That's how it always goes."

"What if I breed you."

He hates the way that the idea makes his heart skip several beats. The way it makes heat surge just underneath his skin like molten lava. That tingling sensation he gets when you yank his hair is also fanning across his body in a shudder.

"We don't have to, we could like, do other stuff-"

"I want too." He speaks stiffly and as firmly as he can lest he stutter.

Your eyes light up, "You do?"

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained." He's fidgeting with the ends of his hair again, "Just not next weekend."

"You're no fun." A smirk is on your face as you speak. You press a kiss gently to his neck, "But I'm fine with the wait."

-/-/-/-

There was a months time before you actually found the right gear and he had built up the nerves. He could discuss the concept, he could think about it in severe depth as well- but enacting it? Most times you tried to sprinkle it in he immediately shut it down.

He still feels hesitant as he watches you slip into the leather harness. This better fucking be worth it. He's already disgraceful enough as is, letting you enact sexy roleplay better not do nothing for him after all this anticipation.

An entire month, probably more, definitely more. He just twisted the script in his head so he could spare himself some dignity.

There's not a lot of dignity left to be spared after he let you put him in a pair of cat ears and called him kitten.

Itachi swallows thickly as you secure the dildo properly. It's girthier than the normal one. Had to be for the inner mechanism, a simple one really, to work properly.

"Ready?" You asked.

He nodded, he had already stripped down to nothing. He even took the tie out of his hair.

"I need words, Itachi," You said, a bit more firmly this time.

He takes a small breath to steady himself, "Yeah, I'm ready."

"Good, now, you wanna suck me off or just go for it with lube?" You asked with a cheeriness that caught him off guard.

He's still fidgety, still nervous. He gives a prompt answer, "Lube."

Regardless of wanting him to worship silicone you still reach for the lube. Slowly you drape the plastic with slick, every inch until it's almost dripping at the tip. You run your hand along the length of it once and try to evenly distribute the excess at the tip, but you're having a hard time telling if it's actually the lube or the mechanism failing.

Itachi considered himself straight as a rail up until the dynamic advanced between you two.

Not like he regrets it.

He's about to be bred by you and in spite of the fact that you let him fuck himself on it before tonight so he could be a bit prepared, he's still intimidated. Hooking a harness onto a pillow and gently rocking himself is different than this. He's pretty sure that not much could mentally prepare himself for this either.

"Alright, sweetheart."

Red rushes to his face at the pet name.

"Ass up."

He does as told, allowing himself to stretch his spine as he does so. Cat like fluidity to his motions. Relax, don't get too tense.

A yip startles out of him when your hand comes down heavy on his ass. He snaps to glare at you over his shoulder.

"Sorry." You laugh a bit, "Not my fault your ass is nice enough to slap."

"Don't do it again," Itachi snapped back.

You hum as you gently lay your other hand on his ass and grip, "If you say so."

With one roll of your hips he shudders as the weight of the strap rests in the cleft. Not penetrating yet, just rolling slickness across his hole because he can't form his own. He wishes he could.

He rolls back to meet your hips gently and whines when you rear back entirely. Fingers quickly taking the same place alongside a splash of lube. Shivers course through him as an excess of wetness drips down his taint.

You wipe your hands down on the sheets before gripping his hip in one hand and sliding the other down the slope of his back. You go slow, edging the tip until it slips in, his breath hitches in response. Then you ease the rest of the way, no resistance, a smooth and comfortable motion the whole time.

Bottoming out gives Itachi time to breath, slowly but surely breath. Big, it wedges awkwardly into his body from this angle. He can't tell if he'd rather this or ride your thigh on this strap instead. Either way he knows his body would be stretched.

"Good boy." Your hands slink through his hair and he whimpers. One small flick of your hips and he moans, blunted tip squared against his prostate.

You continue on in with small flicks and thrusts, nothing deep and heavy yet. You'll build to that, god knows this might be your only chance to actually 'cum' in his ass. Better off savoring it then letting it go to waste.

You wrench your hands in his hair and moans as sharp shivers snake through his body, your nails grip into his hips, "You're gonna regret this one in the morning."

"Oh yeah?" He's countering you. Playfulness from Itachi, this is new.

You drop the grip on his hip so you can press down on the syringe you left to the side. You can tell the exact moment that the mixture hits his insides because his body goes rigid. In a good way you hope, judging by the way his fingers are digging into fabric you'd deem it as such.

He whimpers when the flow stops and you roll your hips out till just the tip remains. He whines, you're really glad he fell into this submissive aspect instead of refusing to give himself some freedom.

"So, ready to be fucking mine?" A growl sneaks into your voice.

He nods slowly.

You yank his hair and he follows the arc of motion with a moan as you thrust in deep. His hips meet yours and the chill of metal clips hasn't eroded underneath body heat yet. You dig into his hip as you thrust, before you can repeat yourself to get a snappier answer out of him, he speaks.

"Yours, I'll be yours," Itachi answered with calmly, a simple submission in his tone of voice. The act of relinquishing the status quo to you gives him a riveting surge of pleasure.

It felt way fucking better than it should've.

In part he agreed to this for a laugh, yeah, sure, let a woman breed breed him. Like that'll make him feel good. Going against biological function in its essence just to chase a pleasure he was hoping for. No way that'd work.

But you delivered in full- even found a strap that'll let you fill him up.

And he's loving every single second of it for some god awful reason.

Another thrust and he cries out quietly, his back arches up into the yank of his hair. Shudders roll through every single inch of his body, he's glad that he's already on his knees. It doesn't stop his elbows from shaking. So much for pushups building resilience because everything is being kicked to the curb with his mind running wild.

Your hands in his hair, your nails clawing into his hips, your cock fucking him hopefully raw by the end. He's not thinking much as quick snaps of the hips turn into deeper thrusts. Half way out, and back in again, forced against his prostate. For a second he wonders if that's what it feels like to have your cervix fucked and he doesn't know where the thought came from.

You're pretty sure that you're watching Itachi Uchiha's perfect reality fall apart under you right now. You can't see his face but there's a certain way his muscles tense when he's thinking long and hard. All aspects of it is showing up on him as you tug his hair and go off about how he'll be yours.

The very second you shift from a simple possessiveness to the breeding dirty talk he fucking gives. Something in his brain snaps under so much pressure that's been slowly building up over so many years. All sorts of little "what was that?" moments shattering the final barrier in his brain.

One second you're pulling back till just the tip stays inside and he's rearing back with you all the same. You claw into his hips and his back and he's pliant and the stressed tension in his body has disappeared. A yank to his hair and when you let go as he sobs out a moan his elbows give and his face is in the sheets.

He's panting and moaning and all he can think about is your clan sigil between his shoulders and, your teeth in his throat leaving marks for all to see, and you fucking a kid into him. It's impossible but the logic center in his brain has shut down. When you really, actually, genuinely fuck him to the point his body heaves with every motion he's drooling.

He's drooling and babbling some dumb shit about you breeding him. About how much he needs you to own him. About how he'll be good and he'll do what you tell him to because he fucking needs you. And as the words leave his mouth he berates himself until you thrust again and his train of thought is torn asunder by a guttural sound of some sort.

"You're gonna be perfect at my side with that stupid fan replaced." Your nails tear his back till it nearly bleeds because you need to mark him physically. You need to make sure that there's proof this really happened. That Itachi is actually letting himself fall so fucking low.

"Just fucking fuck me!" He's short circuiting if that's the best he can offer up to you. Part of you expected him to snark back, another part of you expected him to just moan.

You slip a hand up his back, sweaty and shaky and tense, to his hip. Tracing over his slim waist to reach his hips that taper out just enough to show depending on how dresses. Nails drag along his thigh as the other hand pushes down between his shoulder blades, right where your clan sigil is going.

The thought catches you off guard but you don't stop. You dig your nails into his skin and watch as he writhes and twists his fists into the sheets. Hand at his thigh, slowly tracing to the tender flesh and then smearing the pre from the tip down his cock.

From the way he reacted you'd assume he came right then and there. Not quite yet though, despite the agonizing pleasure gentle pumps that contrast heavy thrusts brings, it's not quite what he needs. His breathing causes his whole body to shift, inhaling as deeply as he can manage between thrusts and strokes, "Cum inside, please- I need it."

"You need it?"

"Please, fuck." His words come out on a breathy moan with a hiss of need, "You, I need you. Please, please, just breed me."

Oh that's hot with a capital H. You reach desperately for the syringe while trying to keep your thrusts in time. He whimpers loudly at the lack of touch, fuck, he needs you so bad.

It's hard to steady your slick hand along the pusher properly. Even harder to keep yourself from pulling the trigger to soon. You want him like this for as long as you can have him, begging and shaky and wanting you and only you so fucking much.

You grip his hip again and drive to the hilt once, "Gonna fill you up. No one else will ever touch you."

Itachi moaned, crying out because fuck, stop being a tease and just do it.

Again, so deep he swears its driving up into his stomach. He gasps weakly as you go for one last time, sure that you're pressed up against his prostate before you press down on the syringe and fill him to the brim. He whimpers desperately as you slowly and gently roll through the release.

"Good boy, good fucking girl." The word slips out by accident but he's either too fried to answer or he enjoyed it. Either way he's cumming in your hand as you rock him through the peak and carry him down.

Once his breathing has calmed down you press down the rest of the way on the syringe. The little mewling whimper that falls out of him is worth it. When you pull out he yips at the pleasant popping even if quiet, and he moans as you run you spread his ass and run your finger up his taint to catch the lube and the cum dripping from his ass.

Now that's a pretty picture.

Your own hands are shaking as you unclip the harness and gently roll Itachi on his side. He's sort of numbed out, just breathing and oh fuck he was drooling and you didn't even get to see it. He was drooling and moaning and begging for it and you didn't even get to see his face, only a small loss that barely impacts the afterglow you're basking in.

You gently wipe away the drool at the corner of his mouth, "Itachi, you're still awake right?"

He nodded, his words just aren't there even though his mind is.

"Wanna take a bath?"

He shakes his head.

"Too tired to move?"

He nods his head.

"We'll wash off in the morning."

He groans a bit, "Like feelin' full."

As much as bright red rushes up to your face, you hold strong, "I know you do sweetheart, but you should get washed up."

"In the morning," Itachi said instead, "You can shower now though."

"Alright, I'll be back in ten."

He doesn't know how he feels about the way that his hand rests on his abdomen with some twisted hope lodged into the motion. His eyes are half-closed as he stares up at the ceiling. His back hurts a bit too much to stay laid down for too long in spite of his motions.

His throat yearns with phantom bites in it, a sore sensation that doesn't make sense. He just wants, he wants you to bite there and make it make sense. He wants the blank space in between his shoulders to have your crest tattooed into the skin for life. He just does and he can't put words to the reasons why.

He swallows thickly as he listens to your shower run and he tries to just fall asleep instead of think. Just pass out. Talk about it in the morning. Everything in his head is finally free now, that last barrier has just broken down.

This better not have awakened any gooey emotions inside of him. Better not have made him feel all tender over you, this realization better not spawn from you fucking him till he wants to wake up and feel nauseated.

Itachi takes a deep breath and closes his eyes.

It'll work out just fine.

[kairiscorner]

damn you guys really do love him i love him too dammit

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

spider noir x grumpy fem!reader

(the reader will have female pronouns :>)

'i can't anymore with that woman, how else can i keep a queen like her happy when i don't understand where her attitude's coming from?' peter thinks as he inhales a puff of cigarette smoke and clicks his tongue. he sighs as he leans against his reclining chair and tapped his fingers against the arm of the chair.

peter was, and is, incredibly patient; he doesn't let snide comments or small punches get to him, no matter how many are thrown his way, but he can only take so much. he sighed as he took off his glasses and thought about your argument with him earlier. he just asked if that dress you wore was new since he never saw you wear it.

but that morning, you were not in a chatty mood, so all you could do was give him 'hmm's and 'mm-mm's. "what, sugar? what's wrong? you're always a little cranky in the morning, are my hugs when we sleep not enough, darl?" he cooed to you as he gently wrapped his arms around your waist, snuggling into you as he smiled against your hair.

you grumbled under your breath as you sipped your coffee, with peter upping the ante and complimenting your beauty, your natural, raw morning beauty that he falls in love with every damn day.

"i'm serious, love, even if you're an angry little thing in the morning, i somehow fall back in love with you all the time. can i have a kiss? just a small peck, please? for your petey..." he pleads like a baby as you're on the verge of telling to go away and leave you alone right now.

you didn't want to talk to people in the morning, you had so much to take in as the day settled in, you hated it when people bothered you in the morning, it added to your contempt for the early hours of the day.

"peter, get off me." you seethed as you finished your coffee. peter's eyes widened and he did as you said without a question. "sure, love." he said as he obliged and stepped away. "well, i hope you have a good day at work, darling." he wishes you well as you put on your shoes and coat and head for the door, still smiling at you.

"this house is fucking filthy." you muttered under your breath as you struggled to put your worn out shoes on. peter looked at you with concern, you hardly swore in the house. "love, are you okay?" he asked as he put a hand on your shoulder, which you swat away.

"dammit peter, i am not in the mood right now!" you snapped at him, which caused him to shiver a little. he never saw or heard you be this angry, you were hardly raising your voice. he couldn't understand why you were like this every morning, it made him feel like he was doing something wrong, or not doing nearly enough.

peter sighed. "i'm sorry, dear, it's just... i want to please you, y'know? i'm right here if you need me." he utters in a soft, slightly pained, voice as his eyes soften and his eyebrows furrow up to show his concern.

you groaned. "i'd appreciate it if you didn't assume i need your help all the time." you snapped again as you slammed the door on your way out, not giving him another glance, or even a 'see you soon'.

peter was angry at himself for not taking the hints, for still not understanding what was wrong, if he did anything to hurt you that morning to make you unleash your unrelenting rage on him.

"what'll i do? what if she doesn't love me anymore? is that the case?" he pondered to himself sadly as he took another puff out of his cigarette. he sighed as he clicked his tongue again. "i love her so, so much... i wonder if all i've been doing is overwhelming and forcing her to love me the same way. i'd be a monster if that was the case..." he murmured to himself, his voice soft and cracking a little.

"i love her, i really, really love her. but i just can't read her sometimes, it... it confuses me." he thought aloud as he looked up and closed his eyes as he rested against the recliner. soon, the lock mechanisms of the door to your home were unlocked, and peter jolted his back up straight; you were home.

"love..." peter whispered to himself as he turned around to watch you come into the house, significantly less angry than from earlier. he turned back away from you and huffed on his cigarette yet again.

you went over to the nearest window and opened it widely. "you know smoking is going to land you in a grave eventually." you reminded him. peter sighed. " everything is going to land you in a grave eventually." he answered back as he took another huff.

you shook your head as you sat down on the chair next to his recliner. "i'm... sorry about the way i acted this morning. i thought about it a lot, and it's been eating at me." you confessed to peter, a little ashamed.

"you work so hard for me, pete, and i really should have more control of my feelings. just because i hate mornings doesn't mean my actions were justified." you continued as you moved your chair closer to peter, intertwining your fingers through his, which earned a small blush on his face.

he looked at you, who was looking down at your hand in his, and he cleared his throat and smiled. "darl, i appreciate that, so much. you have no idea how i've... i've been overthinking about if i've been any good to you as of late, i'm so damn relieved that i have been. and y'know... i'm okay even if you'll be a grump every morning." he says as he puts his other hand under your chin and grins at you.

"you're all i want and will ever want, i'm so smitten with you that even your grumpiness... it's beyond beautiful, love." he says as he plants a kiss on your cheek. a rosy red blush creeps up your cheeks as you smile up at him in response. "and even if i get mad at you for no reason?" you ask, holding his hand in yours, interlocking fingers with him, tightly. he nods. "i'll still love you."

"even if all i can give you in the morning is a grunt and a huff?" you ask with a chuckle. "still the cutest grunts and huffs i'll ever hear in my damn life." he utters as you lean against his shoulder and giggle. "and i love you, too, even if you smell like tobacco and ash." you say as he chuckles.

"thank you, my little miss grumpiness." he says as he kisses the crown of your head and holding you close to him.

he could get used to this.

tags !! @thecoolerdor