#what he does with his brows and his mouth
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for your own good
diluc ragnvindr x afab!reader | 2.8k+ words
warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, reader is wearing a dress but no pronouns are mentioned, not necessarily brat!reader but you get a lil lippy hehe, dom!diluc, spanking as a form of punishment, oral, cum eating, praise kink, y'all are sickly in love as always, please let me know if i missed anything!
the sound of boot steps fill the near silent space of the parlor, heavy steps following much lighter ones through the large mahogany doors, up the stairs and across the second floor into the master bedroom. the maids and staff only emerge from the quiet corners they had slipped into after such a tense entrance when they hear the click of the bedroom door and resume their tasks, avoiding that corner of the manor.
diluc flips the lock behind him, scarlet eyes following your every step as you storm towards the connecting master bathroom in an attempt to put more distance between you but your feet stop quickly at the challenging call of your name that tells you this conversation is not over, even if you run away from it.
it's the first thing that’s been said since you stormed off towards home and you had hoped that the walk back to the manor would cool you both off but you were still burning with frustration and in your wake the flying embers of your emotions caught on your beloved and fueled his own frustration, his worry.
because that’s really all that had started this, worry for your safety. you would argue that you had it completely under control and aren’t hurt in the slightest aside from maybe your feelings but right now you couldn’t articulate anything aside from the exasperated thoughts that you couldn’t stop from spilling past your lips when you whip around to face diluc who now stands near the edge of bed.
his brows as drawn close, the soft pinkness of his lips in a thin line and there’s an undeniable lick of flame behind the dark pupils of his eyes that seems to deepen into a crimson fire at your words.
“don’t you think it’s a bit hypocritical of you to chastise me for putting myself in danger when you do it yourself on a nightly basis?!” you let out a strained laugh, like you can’t actually believe you’re having this conversation. you aren’t even hurt for barbatos sake. “this is ridiculous,” you mutter under your breath but before he can add anything himself, you decide you are finished with this conversation, whether he likes it or not, and end it with a snappy, “perhaps it's you that should be getting a good lecture right now diluc.”
you’re acutely aware of the shift in atmosphere throughout the entire room, how quickly it goes from overly warm in the evening sun spilling through open curtains and the natural heat of diluc to a eerie neutral calmness that's almost painful to breath in but beneath it you can feel the lingering sparks waiting to burst again. though their unusual muted crackling in the silence between you makes you wonder what exactly they would set ablaze.
“this isn’t about me,” his voice is deep, firm and hot.
you hear the ember at your feet pop and send your own gust of air over them, letting them catch fire.
“please, it very clearly is. you’re the one -”
diluc says your name again, in a way you’ve never heard before, serious and penetrating and at the impact of it to your core, you think perhaps it’s you that’s on fire. “that’s enough.”
you want to protest, say whatever's on your tongue and mind but there isn’t a single word that leaves your mouth when your lips part. your tongue feels heavy, your lungs barely able to breathe in air and when your lip begins to tremble, you take it between your teeth.
“come here.”
like a statue, you stand motionless near the bathroom door. your heart races, your cunt clenching around nothing as you watch diluc peel off his gloves without breaking your locked gazes. he pulls at each finger tip, starting with his pinky, until the leather is loose enough to slip off easily and then does the same on the other hand. one glove placed neatly on top of the other, he sets them on the edge of the bed.
when you don’t move, don’t say anything or protest, he closes the distance between you, every heavy boot step making your heart skip a beat and when he’s standing in front of you, his broad shoulders and black coat with golden tassels blocking out the setting sun, all you can do is stare up at his beautiful features and fall into the inferno behind his eyes.
gently, as if you were made of thin glass that had yet to cool, he takes your face into his hands, his palms cradling your chin, calloused thumbs brushing along your cheeks. the mix of tender and intense, his heat and scent overtaking your every sense, makes you beyond dizzy.
“i know i am a stubborn man but my love,” he voice is strained and his expression morphs into something almost painful. he holds you a bit tighter and you stand on your toes to reach him. “i cannot express enough how important your safety, your wellbeing, is.” he takes in a deep breath. “you are everything and without you.. ” he doesn’t let himself say the words. he can’t. he won’t. instead he kisses you deeply, his lips soft and so full of love you feel your knees threatening to give way within an instant.
and you swear they really might when diluc pulls away all too quickly and his hands leave your face. you want to cry at the loss of his touch but only a split moment passes before he has your hand in his and is guiding you towards the bed without needing to tug to have you follow.
you can hear your deep breathing in the palpable silence, the groan of the bed frame against the hardwood floors when diluc sits at the edge of your side of the bed, the delicate sway of your dress as you press your thighs together in the moment he stares up at you with an unreadable expression on his face before the quiet is broken by his captivating voice.
“please understand how serious this is to me.”
dilucs hands are gentle as they pull you over to him and all you can do is follow their silent command that helps you rest over his thick thighs, your stomach pressed against the muscles there. your hands desperately cling to the sheets near your head that can’t seem to form one coherent thought other than you’re certain that you’ve made diluc mad and are about to be punished for it. how fucking badly you need the him. how shamefully turned on you are.
he uses the same softness as he lifts up your dress, letting the tips of his fingers graze along the supple skin of your thighs the higher he lifts it until your bum is exposed to the hot air of the room.
you can hear the way he sucks in breath seeing you aren’t wearing any panties under your dress, though this wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when you decided to go without them this morning. it wouldn’t be enough to stop him.
“this is for your own good darling.” his thick voice, a mix of burning desire and commanding seriousness, makes your heart stop completely but you hardly have time to register it before a large hand comes down and smacks your ass with more strength than you were expecting, the sting sending shots of electricity through your entire body and sets your heart to a wicked drumming beat.
you whimper at the mix of pain and pleasure, the emptiness of your pussy and are unable to stop the way your body trembles and arches. your face burns when you come down for the jolt it sent through you and though you can feel his eyes on you, you can’t meet his gaze.
the cool air on your skin when he removes his hands makes your body break out into goosebumps.
“i need you.” another smack fills the air, makes your body jump and you try to swallow the filthy and pathetic noises threatening to escape past your lips. his palm soothes over your skin that tingles with the aftershock, warm and comforting. a mix of soft and marred skin caressing something precious, with the utmost care. “need you safe and sound in my arms. i can’t lose you.”
his voice trembles with emotion. you want to sooth him, kiss him, hold him close but you can’t move, can’t speak, can hardly breathe. the heat of his palms leaves your skin and can hear him bringing it down against your ass again.
“‘luc!” you cry out, chasing after his touch. your mind is so fuzzy, your body burning and melting in the heat coursing through your body that’s being fueled by the hand once again caressing you so lovingly over the pleasurable ache.
“do you understand love?” it’s not condescending or meant with any rudeness. there’s only love and worry for you, his very heart and soul, his light in darkness that he thought he was shackled to, that he could never be without again. please understand the gravity you hold on him. that he could not bear to lose you, no matter how small the risk. “i need you to tell me that you understand, that you will put your safety first. please.”
you don’t know why you hesitate even when he’s pleading with you. maybe because you want more. more of his touch, more of his words and the fire that's slowly consuming you both. would your lungs even work?
smack!!
“ah!”
he says your name, his tone is dripping with grave urgency.
“i - i understand ‘luc,” you say breathlessly, trying to swallow the traces of need and let him know you mean it honestly. “i’m sorry..”
the weight of his chest against your back, the rub of his hand over the still stinging hand print you can feel on your ass, is comforting, soothing and the feeling of his lips near your ear has you falling limp against his thighs and the bed.
diluc sighs, letting go of the tension that had built in his chest from the moment he saw you in danger and that turned into something else entirely when he was overtaken with the need to show you how important this is, how important you are, when you so easily brushed off your own safety. “all that matters is that you’re okay.”
“i am,” you assure him, bringing your hand up to his face and relishing in him leaning into your touch, the heat of his breath behind your ear. “i’ll always come back to you. always.”
“as will i, my love,” he promises and the words echo in your ears when you feel his hand move, long and scarred fingers gliding between your legs, barely needing one touch to be soaked in your essence.
diluc groans at how wet you are, how easily your body bows to allow him to part your folds down the length of your slit and press against your swollen clit, skilled fingers rubbing in circles with the perfect pressure that has you moaning into the sheets.
you can feel how hard he is, how hard he’s been with his impressive length under your tummy and when he sinks two fingers into you so easily, thanks to how dripping and needy you are, his hips instinctively lift and buck to feel more of you. any part of you he could, just to feel more of you.
but diluc doesn’t focus or care about his own pleasure. not that it was unusual for him, your pleasure is always his own but right now, he only wishes to make you feel good after causing you pain, even if he thought it necessary and your body told him of how much you enjoyed it.
in his seemingly infinite strength, he moves you effortlessly into a comfortable position over the edge of bed, your legs dangling over the edge but your toes don’t meet the ground with how high up the bed is. diluc is sure to gather your dress and secure it around your hips so it doesn’t get ruined. you hear the thump on the hardwood as he takes a knee behind you and at the large hands that spread your folds for him to devour you, with both his hungry eyes and mouth, you bury your face in the pillow he’d moved for you to rest your head on.
pressing a thumb against your clit, you feel his nearly panting breath on the still warm skin he had spanked, the faint touch of his lips making you murmur his name is a sweet plea. the kiss he places there is considerate, soft, but the lower his lips travel, the more impure they become.
at the first taste of you, you can feel more than hear diluc groaning in addicting pleasure, as if you were the sweetest, most divine thing he had ever touched or tasted. it was so much more to him, more than he could put into words, especially so when he is between your legs, savoring every heaven sent drop of you and the way his hot mouth made you wither and writhe.
the tip of his tongue replaces his fingers at your clit, rolling over the sensitive bud before taking it before his mouth and suckling with fervor. powerful hands sink into the flesh of your hips and pull you back into him, the tip of his nose nudging against your entrance, wild ringlets of vermillion hair tickling your thighs, a mix of saliva and slick coating the lower part of his face.
“oh diluc!” you cry out loudly at a partially hard suck. even into the pillow it seems loud in the room but you can’t hold it back with the white hot pleasure coursing through you at how he devours you like a man starved and who may never eat again.
with his cock twitching in his tight pants, sticky pre wetting his underwear, diluc pulls away from your clit and licks a thick stripe up to your entrance, beginning to fuck you on his tongue by pushing and pulling your hips while pulling away and meeting you half way just to delve that much deeper into you until you worry he hasn’t had a breath in so long.
when he does move away, the loss of his tongue leaves you unbelievably empty but when two thick fingers fill you only seconds later, curling into that perfect spot inside your velvety walls, you barely have a chance to protest or catch your breath. all you can do is repeat his name and arch your back so he can reach at a better angle.
you feel the press of wet lips against your bum, right over where he had spanked you, the unevenness of his breath matching the thrusting of his fingers into your little hole. “did so good for me love. so good. fuck.. i love you darling - i love you more than i know how to put into words.”
he can feel you clenching around his fingers at the praise and confession of his feelings, so very close and it only makes his movements more precise, overwhelming and burning hot. he needs to feel you coming undone just as badly as you feel yourself breaking and the reminder of his hand meeting your skin when it still tingles under his kisses drives you over the edge with deep arch of your back and the sweet call of his name from your lips.
never wanting a bit of you to go unloved, not taken in by him, his mouth comes back to your cunt, drinking down every drop of you that leaks from the movement of his fingers and down to your clit and after ensuring you’ve rode out every second of your orgasm, he pulls them out of slowly, licking his fingers clean before standing and handling your dress, pulling it down from where it now pooled closer to your chest and middle back, first covering your bum and glistening cunt.
diluc takes such care to lift and cradle your limp body in his arms, fixing your dress in the front as he kisses the top of your head and takes a deep breath in hopes you’ll try to match it and catch your own that still has yet to settle. you do and as you let out a steaming breath, you sink into his embrace.
settling his back on the headboard, he keeps you pressed as close to him as possible, like he needs to hold you close, feel you breathing and warm and clinging to him. there's an unmistakable hardness pressing against your spent body but your beloved doesn’t pay any mind or attempt to do something about it. perfectly content holding you like this and placing kisses to the top of your head.
with the steady beat of his heart in your ears, you feel your own beating in sync the more you come down from your high and murmur into his chest. “i love you too ‘luc, so much.”
genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
#diluc ragnvindr x reader#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#diluc ragnvindr smut#genshin impact smut#diluc smut#genshin smut#🌙moonlight.stories
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grim reaper!simon “ghost” riley x f!reader
He wasn’t quite sure why but he didn’t want to take your soul.
Fragile little thing, still clinging to life. Sickly. Withering. But you had a fire inside of you, he could feel it. Burning brightly enough that it might even char him.
He wondered the last time your bare feet had touched the grass. The last time you filled your lungs with summer air. The last time you left this tiny little prison keeping your mortal body alive with tubes and drains.
You smile at him. It sends a chill down his spine — something he hadn’t felt since the before. Before he was this. Before he was death. When he was still a man. He can barely remember his old name anymore. Why are you smiling at him?
“I’ve been expecting you.”
Your voice was a melody. Expecting him? You couldn’t be.
“Do I have a few minutes or is it time now?”
He’s taken thousands of souls. More than he can count. Ferried them to the afterlife. Nothing but a blip on his radar, long forgotten. The ones that were still conscious enough to see him begged to live. Begged to be spared. But never this. Never waiting for him.
“Would you like a few minutes?” The words coming out of his mouth surprise even him. He hasn’t heard the sound of his voice in a long while. Hasn’t had the need to speak. It startles even him — a distortion of his human voice.
“I would… I would like to say goodbye to my mom.” He wants to wipe away the tear trickling down your face. He wants to tell you it’s going to be okay.
He nods and hovers to the corner of the room. You don’t seem to mind that he’s waiting there while you call in your mother. She doesn't accept what you have to tell her. It’s not your time, how could it be? You’re young, you have so much life left to live. You’re going to live, she won’t hear anymore of it otherwise. You say okay, another tear falls. You ask her to go get you something to eat.
When she leaves, you look back over to him. A shaky breath releases from your chest. You quickly wipe the backs of your delicate fingertips on your waterline.
“I’m ready.”
But he’s not. Oh no. He’s not.
He doesn’t want to take your soul. Doesn’t want it to incinerate that last little piece of him that’s still human. The piece that wriggles its way up to the surface every so often. He knows if he helps your soul to the afterlife, he’ll never remember his name again. Never remember the touch of a woman’s skin, the feeling of a hot breath against him. Never feel the ache in his chest where his heart used to be. The phantom pain that reminds him who he was. Simon.
He’s at your bedside before you can even blink. You’re not phased, not one bit. He sits, and reaches to take your tiny hand in his. You furrow your brow gently but give it to him.
He sees a flash of the man he was again. The black robe slips down his arm. A sliver of skin reveals his tattoos back at him, tattoos he hasn’t thought about in decades. You study him in silence while he does the same.
Why does your soul sing to him? Why does it remind him of the things he’s forgotten? Why you? Why not the other thousands upon thousands of souls?
“Will it hurt?” your tiny voice squeaks out.
They don’t deserve you — the gods that rule the afterlife. They’ll waste you, they won’t cherish you like he would. Like he could. You deserve so much more, delicate flower that you are.
“No, darling girl, it is as easy as dreaming.”
They have millions of souls. Billions. Surely they won’t miss yours. He can steal one soul for his own. It’s just one. One soul. The most precious soul he’s come across.
You close your eyes and let out a slow breath, waiting for the end to reach you. Death’s sure kiss.
He leans in slow, like he’s approaching a scared animal. Your eyes don't open. No — you trust him.
His lips meet your pillowy soft ones. He almost forgets how to do it, but your lips remind him. They help him. You kiss him.
He feels your soul like a lump in his throat. His large hand — the one not holding your wrist — wraps around your neck. It burns him, this kiss. He knew it would. Sizzles the very bones in his body.
An electrifying feeling takes hold of the both of you. Your skin is covered in goose flesh (his would be too, if it still could be). Your nipples harden, a wetness trails down your panties. You don’t break from him or his kiss. He wonders if it burns you a little too.
When the lump in his throat settles he finally feels it. He’s whole. For the first time in… maybe ever. He’s done it. He’s really done it. He breaks away from you.
Color has returned to your cheeks, the blood rushing beneath your skin. Already you look better than you did before he entered the room.
You don't understand it, he knows you don’t. Someday he’ll explain. Someday. But not yet.
The gods of the afterlife will never find you, and if they do, they’ll never have you. You’re his now. He’s done it.
He’s melded your souls together.
#call of duty#cod x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#ghost cod#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost x reader
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💕Competing for Eddie’s attention💕
You and your best friend were playing truth or dare when you discovered you both have the same crush. Eddie Munson. Yes, he’s the resident school “freak” and D&D nerd but he’s also the guy you buy weed from. And he’s so different outside of the confines of Hawkins High. He can give you butterflies with just a look and loves to flirt with you when you’re alone in his room to pick up. There was even the time when you were hugging him goodbye and he held you a little too long and you swear you felt something throbbing in his pants.
So when you and Sasha call Eddie to come drop off some weed at your place, you come up with a little wager. “So when he gets here we’ll let him decide right? And whoever he picks, we won’t get upset. Deal?” You ask. “Deal.” Sasha responds. You smile knowing you’re going to win. There’s no way Eddie likes anyone else at school as much as he likes you.
“Wow your house is really nice y/n.” Eddie says as he follows you to your bedroom. “Thanks Eddie. I can’t believe I’ve never had you over before to watch a movie or something.” You say flirtasouly as your hand reaches for your bedroom door. Eddie nods slowly as his eyes take in your body in front of him. “Y-yeah.” He says, his voice sounding a little distracted, “I’d like that.” His eyes are still on your hips when you push through the door and smile at Sasha. “You know Sasha right Eddie?”
If Eddie is caught off guard seeing someone else in your room, he doesn’t show it. “Oh yeah, hey Sash.” He smiles a dimpley smile at her. You furrow a brow as you watch him look her over also. “I should’ve known the two prettiest girls at Hawkins would be friends.” Sasha giggles and you hold back the flames rising in your throat as you give him a tight lipped smile. “Yep. Me and Sasha are super close. We’re having a little slumber party tonight so…” you brush past Eddie, letting your hand graze his forearm, “that’s why we need something to get the party going.” You grab a $20 bill from your desk and walk back to hand it to him. Eddie reaches into the pocket of his tight jeans and pulls out a baggie full of green. “I could pay you with this…” you start, looking over your shoulder at Sasha, giving her a wink and nudging her to come stand next to you. “Or… you can pick who you think is hottest and whoever wins will…” you turn to Sasha and lean in to whisper in her ear, never breaking eye contact with Eddie, who’s starting to sweat.
Sasha nods to you and you both giggle. “Whoever wins will suck your dick. That should be worth at least $20 right?” Eddie’s mouth is hanging open as he stares at the 2 of you. “Wait-what?” He asks. “You guys want to…?”
“We’re dying to.” You smile at him. “So? Who will it be?” He looks into your eyes for an extra second, internally panicking, wondering if he’s being tricked in some way. He looks back and forth between the 2 of you and lets out an “uhhhh….” as he contemplates.
“Maybe this will help you decide.” You say as you pull your T-shirt over your head, leaving you in your white, unlined lace bra. Perked nipples pushing up against the fabric. Sasha follows suit, her tanned skin contrasted with a red bra. Eddie lets out a soft “fuck.” as he takes in the 4 boobs in front of him but he still can’t decide. He wants to pick you, he really does but he doesn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. And it’s not that he’s not attracted to Sasha. You’re both insanely hot. But he just likes you more. This is too hard. And he’s also getting too hard. Things like this only happen when he’s alone in his room, eyes closed and his hand pumping his hard cock while impossible fantasies play in his head. But this isn’t a fantasy. It’s real.
He puts a hand on each of your hips, his calloused fingertips rubbing the soft skin. He looks at Sasha, stares at her lips and leans forward, letting his lips meet hers. You instantly deflate and can’t help the brow furrowing pouty expression forming on your face. But Eddie pulls away from her and looks over at you. His bedroom eyes and goofy smirk not doing much to simmer the raging wildfire of jealousy you’re feeling. Until he leans into you and kisses you also. You hear a distant scoff from Sasha but your brain doesn’t comprehend it. All you can focus on is Eddie’s soft lips and the tip of his nose brushing yours. The hand resting on your hip squeezes softly as he pulls back and looks into your eyes. You can’t hide the disappointment on your face, glaring at him.
He chuckles at your cute irritated face and leans close to your ear and whispers “Of course I choose you princess but why don’t we have a little fun with your friend first?”
Like for a part 2 so I know there’s interest! Thanks for reading 💕
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x y/n#eddie x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson smut
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husk x reader. fluff/comfort. he helps ease the pain during that time of the month. pure indulgence on my part, to be fair. but it's short and tooth-rottingly sweet. enjoy :)
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"How're you feeling, kitten?"
Husk’s gentle tenor rouses you from what you could barely call sleep, a furrow forming in your brow as you feel his hand smooth over your shoulder. You groan, shifting slightly under the blankets in a futile attempt to relieve the painful ache currently clinging to your pelvis.
“Remind me to have a word with Charlie’s dad next time he decides to grace us with his presence about why we still have to deal with periods in hell,” you grumble, opening your eyes reluctantly. Husk’s soft features hover above you, a small, concerned frown touching his lips. “And then kick his unholy ass.”
Husk chuckles quietly, pushing hair away from your face with careful claws. “Wouldn’t that be a sight to see.”
“Glad I’m such a source of entertainment for you,” you groan, and Husk’s smile widens affectionately.
“Still hurt in the same place?” he asks, and you nod sullenly. Husk hums quietly, pulling back the blankets and ignore the way you whine in complaint as he does. “Roll onto your back, baby.”
You do so and Husk climbs into the bed with you, feathering a kiss over your brow, your cheek before catching your lips in a dizzyingly chaste kiss before settling himself carefully on top of you. The initial pressure of his body on top of yours makes you wince, and he murmurs an apology before shifting lower, his chin resting on your chest. You sigh as the heat of him sinks into your aching body, the ghost of a smile on the edge of your lips.
Husk folds his arms under your chest, a lazy, loving smile of his own settling over his features as he watches you. His legs are cradled between yours and you feel his tail curl over your ankle. You reach up with a heavy hand, smoothing your palm over his cheek. Husk exhales happily, leaning his head into your touch. A soft, even rumbling rises in his throat, vibrating through into your chest.
The two of you lay like that for a while, your hand moving of its own accord from his cheek to up behind his ear. Husk’s purring doubles, a deep, rusty sound that fills the room and sends warmth through every inch of you.
“How’d you know this was going to help?” you ask quietly, fingers travelling down to scratch under his chin. Husk’s eyes close at the sensation, and you have to wait a moment for him to register the question.
“Didn’t,” he replies simply, his wings shuddering slightly on either side of you. “Thought it might though.”
“You were right,” you tell him, smile reappearing as Husk leans up to press a kiss to the underside of your chin. “Thank you for this, Husk.”
The bartender braces his hands on either side of you so he can push himself up to bring his face level with yours. He bumps his nose against yours for a moment before his mouth finds yours.
“Anytime, baby.”
#husk#husk x reader#hazbin hotel husk#husk posting#hazbin hotel husk x reader#hazbin hotel#my fic#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin husk
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Senator's Shadow - Chapter 3
summary: Things get interesting when Hunter is assigned to escort the senator during the welcome banquet on Eirus.
pairing: hunter (the bad batch) x fem!reader
rating: mature (18+)
tags: bodyguard romance, forbidden love, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut
word count: 7.610k
chapter 2 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 4
chapter 3 ⟹
Hunter was ready for what awaited him when the double doors opened up. Rather than retreating to their rooms, his squad was standing there to greet him, their helmets removed as every single one of them wore a smug grin. Hunter heaved a sigh and gestured with his head to the suite behind him.
“We’re taking shifts on watch.” He looked around the group with severity. “With potential assassination attempts in order, it’s vital that we do so while the senator rests.”
“I bet you’ll want the first shift,” Crosshair teased, tucking a toothpick between his smiling teeth, “won't you, Sarge?”
Hunter raised an eyebrow, unimpressed, even as the other boys snickered. “We’re going according to our usual schedule, which means that Tech has first watch.”
“That is acceptable,” Tech was quick to respond. “I was already planning on staying awake to run an analysis on the senator’s diagram of Eirus as soon as possible.”
Echo gave him an incredulous look. “How did you get that data already?”
Tech blinked at him. “I scanned it while she had it on display. How else would I have gotten it?”
Echo raised his hand defensively. Hunter resisted a sigh and went on. “That’s fine, Tech, but make sure you can still keep an eye out. This is different from keeping watch in hyperspace.” He gestured to their surroundings. “There are some real, dangerous threats after the senator. We need to stay vigilant.”
Crosshair huffed and lowered his voice towards Wrecker, but kept it loud enough for Hunter to hear. “Protective.”
Hunter’s head snapped towards him. “Yeah, and I expect that from the rest of you, too.” He recalled the desperation in your eyes during your private conversation, causing his chest to tighten underneath his armor as he went on. “The senator chose us for this mission because she trusts us. Her fate, and that of this planet, rests with us just as much as it does with her.”
That seemed to straighten the shoulders of the squad. Even Tech finally got his nose out of his datapad as he looked upon Hunter. A small smile of satisfaction took over his lips.
“That being said, we all need rest. Tech, keep an eye on the chrono so you can get your rest in, too.” Hunter’s gaze found Wrecker before he nodded in his direction. “You too, Wrecker.”
Tech nodded while Wrecker offered a salute. “You’ve got it, Sarge!”
Hunter smiled at him and stepped away from the group, his silent signal for them to disband. Each member of the squad, aside from Tech, headed for their rooms—though Hunter still felt a presence behind him as he approached his own door. He turned and saw Echo trailing him, a concerned knit wrinkled in his brow.
“Hunter,” Echo began in a low tone. He tossed a quick look over his shoulder to make sure that no one was watching them. “Is there actually something going on between you and the senator?”
Hunter fought off the initial rush of panic and managed a genuine chuckle. “No, Echo. That’s all in the squad’s heads.”
Echo’s brow shot up. “Are you sure about that?”
Hunter turned to fully face Echo. “Come on, I barely know her.” He gestured with his eyes to the squad’s doors. “The jokes are getting you all carried away.”
Echo raised the corner of his mouth in a smile and nodded. “That’s fair.” He steadied himself with a breath. “All right. Sorry for that. I just…” he chuckled to himself, “you know how I feel about the rules.”
“I do.” Hunter clasped his hand on Echo’s armored shoulder. “Even if we still break them.” He nodded. “We’ve worked with politicians before, Echo. This time won’t be any different.”
Echo returned his nod. Hunter was pleased to see the light of concern fading from his eyes. He had to give it to Echo; the ARC trooper was never afraid to keep him and the others in line.
“Now get some rest.” Hunter jerked his head towards Echo’s room. “I have a feeling we’ve got a big day ahead of us.”
Echo huffed. “I agree.” He then obeyed Hunter’s gentle order, turning away from him to head towards his room. Hunter watched him for a moment before he turned back to his door and opened it.
Inside was quite a generous setup, certainly larger than any room Hunter had ever called his own. With a large bed, refresher, and plenty of storage space for his gear, Hunter had no reason to protest the senator’s kind arrangements for him and his squad. But the silence in the absence of his squad was about to do him more harm than good, especially with Echo’s worries floating around in his head.
Had he lied to Echo about you?
Hunter set down his helmet and ran his forefinger and thumb along the bridge of his nose. It had only been a matter of hours since he met the senator, and he was still low on sleep, despite the rest he had tried to get on the Marauder. Of course seeing someone like you would cause him to be so confused about his own feelings, especially when you were so desperate for his help.
But there was another truth to face, because Hunter observed faces and gazes as well as he did electromagnetic frequencies. That wasn’t the only desperation you had shown. Leadership roles were extremely isolating, and that was something Hunter himself was still coming to terms with. To see someone else struggling with it, and to find some kind of genuine understanding…
Well, it was nice. No matter what it meant, or where it would lead to.
That wasn’t Hunter’s concern. He was already thinking ahead to the welcome banquet tomorrow, which would be a prime opportunity for potential assassins or attackers to strike. It reignited his worry for you during the night, though he could at least trust his squad enough to take care of any threats that might arise while you slept.
Hunter stripped himself of his armor and kept it safely tucked away with his gear, though he kept his blaster and his knife in close reach. He did the same with a comlink, all of which stayed on his bedside table. He considered the temperature of the room before taking off the top half of his blacks as well. Hunter then settled into the bed, willing himself to have a less fitful sleep than before.
Thankfully, his wish was granted. Hunter was actually well-rested when it was his turn to take over the watch, the comlink’s chiming waking him from his deep slumber. He was quick in freshening up and re-dressing himself in his gear and attributed it to his desire for Crosshair to get his necessary rest.
As soon as Hunter stepped out into the corridor, Crosshair was ready to greet him outside your doors. “Morning, Sarge,” he greeted in his usual cool tone, though there was also an evident inflection of amusement. “You look excited for a person who’s about to stand outside some doors for a while.”
Hunter gave his helmeted head a tilt and resisted the urge to sigh. “Get some rest while you still can, Crosshair.”
Crosshair snickered even as he obeyed Hunter’s order. Hunter watched him as he entered his room, and after releasing a heavy breath, he tuned his enhanced senses into all of his surroundings. The first hour or so wouldn’t be so exhausting, but it would take a toll if he had to go on much longer than that.
And he would, because he knew what was at stake. Sleep was your most vulnerable state, and he was the one in charge of making sure no one would take advantage of that.
Hunter tried to keep his mind quiet focused, but the task proved difficult, especially as it wandered to the day’s events. He wasn’t sure what you would have in mind for the welcome banquet, but he was already beginning to put his own pieces in place. They would have to have eyes everywhere, and he would have to get Tech to look up more on Lii Alvani and his former allies so they could recognize any one of them if they tried to work their way inside.
It wasn’t unusual for Hunter to plan ahead like this. As the squad’s leader, it’s what he often had to do. What was different this time was the fierce panic that came with the idea of his plan not working. He would have to leave the calculation of their odds to Tech, if only for his sake.
With his focus diverged in two important directions, Hunter lost track of time until he heard the doors open behind him. He nearly jumped at the sound that roared against his eardrums, thanks to him still being so attuned to his senses. Hunter blinked a few times behind his visor to re-center himself as you stepped through the doors.
You were in a simpler dress than yesterday, no doubt favoring something more comfortable before the formality of the day would begin. It was a simple green, this time with gold embellishments rather than silver. It still framed you in a way that brought a flush to Hunter’s face beneath his helmet before he could stop it, especially as he caught your gaze that glowed at him.
“Good morning, Sergeant,” you greeted, bowing your head at him.
“Senator.” Hunter returned the gesture and tightened one of his fists at his side.
“I hope you haven’t been out here too long.” Your brow furrowed in genuine concern before you gave him a once-over.
“Not at all.” Hunter didn’t bother checking the chrono to see how long it had actually been. “I’m the last rotation in our watch shifts.”
You smiled again at that. “Good.” You held his gaze through his visor for a few distinct heartbeats before exhaling a soft breath. “There’s a lot to attend to today, so I hope you were all able to get some proper rest.”
The corners of Hunter’s mouth began to rise at that. “We were. In fact…” He paused, raising two of his fingers to the side of his helmet and activating the squad’s main comm. “Rise and shine, boys. The senator’s ready to get the day started.”
Almost immediately, the door to Tech’s room slid open, and he walked through with his nose practically buried in his datapad. There was still a slight limp as he made his way over, but Hunter was pleased to see that it had improved even more from the day before. Tech only looked up when he was closer to you and Hunter.
“Good morning, Senator,” he greeted with a nod. “I’m glad to see you are awake and ready. I have been going over the schematics you created, and there are quite a few interesting threads I have pulled together.”
Hunter caught the impressed light in your gaze as you returned Tech’s nod, but he still rolled his eyes at Tech underneath his visor. “Maybe we should let the senator enjoy her morning before we start bombarding her with plans and data, Tech.”
“That’s quite all right, Sergeant.” You lifted your hand to Hunter’s armored shoulder, an eyebrow raised and a small smile pulling at your lips. “I’m just as eager to get down to business.” Your gaze lingered on his visor before you dropped your hand and returned your attention to Tech.
Hunter tilted his helmet, unable to stop looking at you. There had been another light in your eyes he couldn’t quite interpret, and as someone who had mastered the art of studying others, he was itching to identify it.
The sounds of other doors opening brought Hunter out of his brief yet focused reverie. Echo and Wrecker were the next ones to emerge, with Wrecker entering the scene as enthusiastically as ever. “That was the best sleep I’ve ever gotten!” He nodded at the senator with genuine gratitude. “Thank you for the nice rooms, Senator.”
You beamed at Wrecker as you returned the gesture. “I’m very glad to hear that, Wrecker. It’s truly my pleasure.”
Crosshair was the last to join the group, and as he made his way over, Hunter spoke up on behalf of everyone. “Well, Senator, it looks like we’re all ready to report for duty.” He raised his helmet in your direction. “What’s our first order?”
You smiled at him before looking around the group. “Every good soldier needs some nourishment before really starting the day, right?”
Wrecker let out a victorious chuckle and shouldered Echo, who tripped a step at the sudden movement. “I like the sound of that!”
You softly laughed, the sound a beautiful melody to Hunter’s sensitive ears, and began to lead the way ahead. “Then let’s feast.”
Wrecker’s eyes doubled in size. “Feast?”
“Save some for the rest of us, Wrecker,” Crosshair joked as he fell in step alongside his brother.
“There will be plenty for everyone,” you assured them, your voice as warm as the smile you continued to wear.
Hunter couldn’t stop the smile of his own that was growing underneath his helmet. You were treating his squad like they were the high-class diplomats, certainly much better than anyone else had—even those who had created them. There had to be a way to repay you for such kindness.
Succeeding in the mission would no doubt be the most efficient way of doing so. That only made Hunter dwell more on the plans he had been crafting in his mind for hours.
After enjoying the heartiest meal any one of them had no doubt ever had, the group reconvened back at the senator’s suite, where your personal guard waited outside your doors. The squad was gathered around your holotable much like the night before as you brought up new projections, this time the faces of various diplomats and fighters. Each of the squad’s helmets was tucked underneath their arms as they viewed the holoprojections up close.
“These are the main faces we need to be on the lookout for,” the senator instructed them all. “This goes beyond tonight’s banquet. These individuals have long since become leaders of these attacks and are no doubt conspiring directly with Alvani.”
Hunter studied them faithfully, committing each of their images to memory. He silently thanked Tech for making his own copies of the data to reinforce his initial observations.
“Unfortunately…” you let out a defeated breath that created an empathetic ache in Hunter’s chest, “many of them are people who once fought alongside me.”
“How’s that possible?” Hunter couldn’t keep the question to himself.
“They see the Republic as another version of the same evil we defeated.” Your shoulders tensed as you carried on. “They don’t understand that it’s the Separatists who plan on bringing such oppression back to Eirus.”
“Yeah, that seems to be their favorite kind of deception,” Echo muttered.
Hunter raised his brow at you. “They really believe that when you’re the one who’s representing them?”
You gave your head an aimless shake. “Apparently, they do.” Your gaze met Hunter’s and it wasn’t hard to decipher all the darkness hidden within it. He wondered how long you had been holding it all in. “They were the same ones who elected me as senator and sent me away to Coruscant, but… the distance must’ve been enough for them to forget what I once fought for.”
You paused for a moment and shrugged. The gesture did nothing to erase the pain that Hunter had already seen within you.
“Or maybe I made a mistake agreeing to my appointment in the first place.”
“It’s not your fault.” Hunter’s reassurance was out before he could hold it in, as was the hand he lifted to your shoulder. The burning gaze of his squad, however, urged him to lower his hand a few heartbeats later. “The reason why this war’s still going on is because of how good the Separatists are at winning people over.”
“And because of their impressive droid army,” Tech chimed in. “Which only seems to be growing even more advanced as the war goes on.”
Hunter turned his head towards Tech and circled his jaw. “Thanks for that, Tech.”
“We can take ‘em, Senator,” Wrecker offered you his own comfort. “Don’t even worry about it.”
Hunter’s senses picked up on the deep breath you had finally taken, with an exhale that was much lighter than before. “I appreciate it, Wrecker, but it’s more challenging than that.” You gave the squad a serious look. “I don’t want any of them hurt.”
Crosshair took his toothpick between his fingers. “What’s your definition of ‘hurt?’”
“No critical injuries, which means no live rounds.” You gave Hunter a quick look. “I’m sure your sergeant already told you about that.”
“Oh, yeah, you did, Sarge.” Wrecker took his blaster and toggled something on it. “Stun only. Right?”
“Right.” You nodded towards the holographic images. “Not only would injuries sway people away from our cause, but I also still care for them.”
“Even when they’re trying to kill you?” Crosshair clearly couldn’t help himself from asking.
You remained firm as you responded. “Even then.”
Silence sat amongst the group for a long moment. Hunter watched you switch the projection over to a single large room before you continued.
“As for tonight’s banquet, this is the ballroom where it’s taking place.” You pointed at the red circles decorated along the edges of the hologram. “These are all the exit points. People can come in and get out through these doors and windows.”
Hunter fit the diagram within the plans he had already started crafting. “How’s your faith in the security detail?”
You huffed. “Not great.” You flashed him a smile. “That’s why I’m bringing your squad along.”
Hunter let out a low chuckle. At least you were finding some humor in all of this.
“Here’s what I need from all of you.” You pointed at one of the red dots. “Wrecker, I need you to stand post at this entrance. The more we can deter right away, the better.”
Wrecker nodded, an eager light dancing in his gaze as he did so.
“Tech, I need you to monitor the comms. I have no doubt that you can tap into their channel if they’re actively using it.”
“That would be a well-founded conclusion,” Tech agreed.
“Echo, I need you to guard the power room.” You pointed along the outside of one of the rooms. “It was an old tactic of ours to go for the lights and other power fixtures, and I need someone posted there to make sure they don’t resort to that tonight.”
Echo nodded dutifully. “You’ve got it, Senator.”
“Crosshair, I need you to keep watch. You’ll be the first to notice if any one of these faces steps anywhere near the capitol or the ballroom.”
Crosshair put his toothpick back between his teeth and offered a two-fingered salute.
“And Sergeant Hunter.” You turned towards Hunter as you addressed him by name for only the second time. The heartbeat that roared in his ears was solely his own, though he kept himself as composed as ever on the outside. “I need your senses to catch any direct threats in the ballroom.”
Hunter began to reach the conclusion on his own. “So, my position will be…” With the eyes of his squad watching, he couldn’t finish the sentence.
“With me.” You nodded to confirm his unspoken thoughts. “I need at least one of you to escort me to continue the illusion of you serving as my protection, and your senses will no doubt allow you to pick up on anything abnormal that’s happening around us.”
“Convenient,” Crosshair snickered.
Hunter ignored him and nodded at you. “Then I’ll be there.”
Your gaze brightened at him. “Great.” Your eyes lingered on him even as you turned to face the rest of the squad once again. “I have some diplomatic business to attend to for the rest of the day leading up to the banquet, so I’ll leave it to all of you to plan the finer details while my guard escorts me there.”
Hunter’s brow furrowed. “Are you sure you can trust them?”
You tilted your head at him. “For now, yes. I have to give them at least some sort of power to keep them from catching on.”
Hunter exhaled, even if he wasn’t convinced. “Fair enough.”
“I think the senator can handle herself even if things do go sideways,” Echo added.
“Exactly, Echo.” You gave Hunter another one of those quick once-overs that set him and his armor on fire. “Though I do appreciate the concern.”
“That’s good, ‘cause you’ll get a lot of it from him. Hah!” Wrecker walked over to knock his shoulder against Hunter’s. He tried to fight the flush that attempted to overwhelm his face without the refuge of his helmet to hide it.
Tech pushed his goggles further up his nose. “That is certainly one of his specialties.” He pointed at Hunter with a small, knowing smile.
Hunter narrowed his eyes and gently swatted Wrecker’s hand, which had wrapped around his shoulders, away from him. “Glad you’ve all noticed.”
“Well, you are a sergeant. It is only sensible that you have a heightened sense of protection.” Tech paused and let out an amused huff. “Huh. ‘Heightened sense.’ That was not intentional.”
Hunter raised an eyebrow and didn’t bother coating his sarcasm. “Nice one.”
You laughed alongside Hunter, and all his frustration towards his teasing squad melted away as he looked over at you. “As much as I’d love to stay to hear the rest, I’m about to be long overdue for my first meeting.”
Your gaze scanned the squad but, in a way that was becoming quite natural, caught Hunter especially.
“I have an activated comm on my person so that you can keep track of where I am. I’ll use it in case of an emergency, but I’m not expecting anything to happen now when they have a better opportunity to strike later.”
Hunter tightened his jaw and looked away from the senator. That was a thought he didn’t want to dwell on. He loved seeing action as much as the next person in his squad, but not in this way. Not with the threat of an assassination attempt on someone who was already putting their neck out for the sake of their people. As a leader himself, albeit to a much smaller group, it made him sick to think about.
You didn’t deserve any of this, and Hunter would do whatever he could to help you make it right.
“We’ll reconvene here just before the banquet’s due to begin.” The senator’s voice earned Hunter’s attention again. “Until then… I suppose you have a chance to explore.” You waved a hand towards the door. “I’ll lead the way out.”
You deactivated the holotable and started to head towards the doors. Hunter slid his helmet over his head as he followed you, and the rest of the squad fell in step behind him. He managed to make it to your side as he spoke to you in a low voice. “We won’t be going far, Senator. Don’t be afraid to comm if something feels off.”
You gave him a warm glance, your gaze glimmering as you did so. “There’s that sense of protection your squad was speaking about.” The quiet words were filled with nothing but a sweetness that Hunter was quickly getting addicted to. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, Sergeant, but… I can’t begin to tell you how much your reassurance means to me.” You gave him a subtle nod. “Thank you.”
Hunter returned the gesture. “No need.”
You looked as if you wanted to say more, but you were already at the doors. Hunter watched you transform into your diplomatic image as the doors opened and led you out to where your guards were keeping watch in the corridor. Hunter kept himself and the squad back as you continued on, silently encouraging your guards to follow you. He didn’t miss the pointed look the captain gave him as he walked ahead.
Hunter spoke up before anyone else could. “We’re doing a perimeter sweep, getting a lay of the land.” He spun around to face his squad and nodded. “We have to know what’s out there so we can combat it later.”
Wrecker groaned and threw his hands in the air. “Why can’t it be tonight already so we can see some real action?”
Crosshair snorted in agreement and crossed his arms. “I’m starting to miss the clankers.”
“I’m sorry, boys. I know it’s hard not to be as active as usual.” Hunter allowed himself to agree with them. “But this mission’s important. Like I said last night, the fate of this entire planet is resting on our shoulders.”
“And the fate of the senator.” Tech lifted a finger as he added the thought Hunter wasn’t brave enough to say aloud.
Hunter began to turn back around, but he still managed to respond. “Right.” He gestured with his helmet to the corridor. “Let’s get going. There’s lots out there for us to see.”
The rest of the day, aside from another period of refreshment given at the senator’s request, was spent exploring both the exterior and the interior of the capitol. Tech had scanned as much as he could to make his own diagram, and Crosshair had kept his gaze high to scope out potential sniper spots—for both himself and others. Hunter’s senses were working overtime yet again to make himself more familiar with it all, though he forced himself to stop when he came too close to the edges of an overstimulation migraine.
The squad waited along with your guard outside your doors that evening, ready to escort you to the banquet. Hunter was buzzing with the same kind of adrenaline he always had on high-stakes missions, but he was hit with a whole new wave of it when the doors opened.
You had traded your gown from before with something much more formal. Its colors were the exact opposites of the other’s, trading the gold for green and vice versa. This gown was much more fitting to your form, though there was a slit in each of your legs to allow you more freedom to move around.
It was—no, you were—beautiful in every sense of the word. And there was just no getting around that fact, not even for a Republic clone sergeant.
The senator faced Hunter and his squad with the mask of diplomacy still engaged, thanks to the presence of your guard. Still, there was a light within your eyes that Hunter enjoyed seeing, especially as it shined at his visor. “Thank you again, Clone Force 99, for reinforcing my guard tonight.” You gestured to your guards as they stood on your other side. “It’s appreciated more than you know.”
Hunter bowed his head. “Just doing our duty, Senator.”
You raised your brow and the corners of your mouth at him. “This is above and beyond your usual ‘duty,’ Sergeant, especially your willingness to help the captain escort me.”
“She didn’t have to ask him twice,” Echo muttered to one of the boys from behind Hunter. He rolled his eyes underneath his visor at their snickering.
“It’s no problem, Senator.” Hunter nodded to affirm his words. “Really.” He gave his helmet a fond tilt. “Gives me a bit of a change in scenery.”
You chuckled and gave your head a shake, but Hunter caught the shyness you attempted to hide. “Well, don’t thank me yet, Sergeant. Politics are a whole different type of battlefield.” You broke your gaze with Hunter to glance over at the captain. “We ought to get going, Captain. Would you lead the way? Clone Force 99 will bring up the rear.”
The captain nodded, directing his men as they began to walk down the corridor. The squad fell in place behind you, as the group made its way to the ballroom, each member began to split off. Crosshair was the first, and then Echo as he snuck away to the power room. Tech found a quiet yet nearby place to monitor both the comms and the cams, leaving just Hunter and Wrecker as the group came upon the ballroom.
As the captain turned to face the senator, his brow knit together in confusion at the lack of soldiers behind you. “Sergeant, where are all your men?”
Hunter no doubt had a smile in his voice as he responded. “Covering all our bases. I wouldn’t worry about it if I were you, Captain.”
The captain looked as if he were about to speak, but paused when he caught your gaze. Hunter nodded at Wrecker to dismiss him. He walked off to stand alongside the entrance you had assigned him to earlier that morning.
Your eyes found Hunter’s visor, and he offered you the reassuring nod you needed. “We’re ready when you are, Senator.”
You returned the gesture. “Thank you, Sergeant.” You turned to the captain. “Captain?”
The captain took his place at the front and led the small group through the main entrance. Hunter was quick to observe the ballroom and everyone within it. It had already been packed full of various diplomats and other high-ranking citizens of Eirus. He recognized many of the diplomats from the group that had greeted you during your arrival onworld, particularly the Rodian Prime Minister who had Hunter’s anger spiking just at the sight of him. The room was decorated in the same shades of green, purple, silver, and gold that you often wore, but your golden figure was the one at the center of his vision as you continued your stride inside.
The group hadn’t made it more than a few steps inside when Hunter caught your head turning towards your shoulder, in his direction. Hunter took the cue and stepped closer to you, even though his sensitive eardrums still could have heard your hushed voice from his previous place. “Stay close, Sergeant.” Your words weren’t an order; they were a plea.
There was a tug on each of Hunter’s heartstrings as he stepped close enough to set his hand over your lower back. “I’m right here, Senator.” He lifted his visor to your surroundings as he surveyed the crowd. There was an array of piercing gazes looking your way, and Hunter couldn’t imagine how that made you feel. “I’m watching them. Don’t worry.”
You took a deep breath, a steady inhale and exhale that brushed across Hunter’s soundscape like a sweet caress. He lowered his hand from your back only when you were settled and followed you and your guard to wherever you were heading.
When Hunter realized who you were approaching first, he didn’t bother holding back his annoyed sigh, even if he did keep it to himself. The Prime Minister turned to look at the group with a hospitality so fake that even someone as politically unseasoned as Hunter could recognize the mask he was wearing.
“Senator! Ah, you’ve made it at last!” The Prime Minister reached for your hands and gave them a squeeze.
Hunter took a step closer to you with his hand hovered over his blaster before he could stop it. The movement caught the Rodian’s gaze as he huffed with both indignance and amusement.
“That one behind you is quite jumpy.”
You didn’t miss a beat as you responded. “He’s just doing his job, Prime Minister. Typically, you ask for permission with such a gesture.” Still, you let him off the hook much easier than Hunter would have. “But on account of how lovely you’ve made this gathering for me… I forgive you.”
The Prime Minister dropped your hands and opened his arms in a victorious type of gesture. “I’m very glad you noticed, Senator! I spent a lot of time putting this evening together.” He gave the room an admiring glance. “Only the best for our wonderful senator.”
Hunter narrowed his eyes. His hand was still positioned over his holster, and the hint of sarcasm in the Prime Minister’s voice didn’t motivate him to move it away.
“Did I miss something?” Hunter nearly jumped as the comm went off inside his helmet, alerting him to Crosshair’s cool tone. “Hunter looks ready to fight already.”
“From what I can tell, that is simply his reaction to the Prime Minister,” Tech answered. “Given how… unimpressive the Prime Minister is, I cannot blame Hunter for such a reaction.”
Oh, Hunter didn’t like this. Having to listen in on his brothers’ commentary without him being able to answer, at least not as freely as the rest of the squad could, was going to be a new type of torture. But remembering that frightened look in your eye that you tried to suppress as you pleaded for him to stay close made it more than bearable.
“Aw, man!” Wrecker grumbled. “I’m gonna miss all the interesting stuff, aren’t I?”
“You and me both, Wrecker,” Echo added. “Crosshair, Tech, we’re gonna need some good descriptions.”
Hunter tightened his jaw and lifted his fingers to his helmet. “What you’re gonna need is to focus. Cut the comm chatter. I can barely concentrate on my surroundings.”
He was satisfied when his order was met with silence. It allowed him to focus back on the senator and the other diplomats, who were taking turns exchanging fake pleasantries. Hunter focused less on the words they spoke and more on the other sounds around you. There were many heartbeats and heavy musks to sort through, but Hunter knew what he was looking for. Thankfully, he wasn’t finding it—at least, not yet.
The banquet was pretty uneventful, but Hunter was grateful for that. Tech chimed in from time to time to update the group on any comm activity, but it was usually the security detail that was already working to defend the politicians, diplomats, and other individuals inside the ballroom. Crosshair shared his temptation to shoot down one of the chandeliers just to make something exciting happen, and Echo agreed that it would at least short out something in the power room that he could fix.
You were thankfully unoccupied by company, halfheartedly sipping a libation, when Hunter heard one of the sounds he was listening for: a holster strap. Immediately, his visor scanned the room, each one of his senses reaching out as if they were physical hands pushing people aside to identify the source. It was much too close to be anyone on the other side of the room, but all the people in their immediate vicinity had their hands otherwise occupied.
Then, his gaze slid over to you. One restless movement from your dominant leg proved that it was, in fact, your holster strap he had heard. It had unfastened. If he didn’t alert you to the loosened strap soon, then it would very likely unveil your hidden weapons to the entire room.
The captain and his guard were at a comfortable distance when Hunter approached you. He rested his hand on your back to alert you to his presence before he leaned over to speak to you in a low voice. “Senator, you might want to check your holster.” His gaze flickered over to yours, watching as your eyes widened ever so slightly in silent alarm. “I heard the strap loosen.”
Rather than looking, you moved your leg, and Hunter yet again heard the sound just as you sensed the loose strap against your skin. “Thank the stars for your senses, Sergeant.” You managed a smile, but still let out a stressed exhale. “I have to fix it.”
Hunter gestured with his helmet to the nearest exit point. “I can escort you out.”
You shook your head. “That’ll be too suspicious.” Your gaze scanned the busy crowd. “I have to fix it here.”
Hunter furrowed his brow. “How? That’s not exactly a subtle adjustment to make.”
Your own brow knit together as you considered his words. Your eyes then rose to his visor, and they were filled with an amount of trust that left him breathless. “It has to be you.”
Hunter blinked a few times in surprise before he stammered out his response. “Me?”
You nodded, your voice dropping to a whisper as you went on. “If you stay against the wall and I stand in front of you, it could look like you’re briefing me on something.” Your eyes looked beyond him. “There’s a pretty private corner there.”
Hunter followed your gaze and let out a soft breath before he nodded. “Yeah, that’ll work.” He couldn’t begin to think of the implications of the action yet. All he could focus on was making sure your secret wasn’t revealed.
You turned to the captain and began to address him, causing Hunter’s hand to slip from your back. “Captain, the sergeant says he has an update for me from Clone Force 99. If you could watch our backs while I attend to it, that would be much appreciated.”
The captain bowed his head at you. “Of course, Senator.”
Hunter steadied himself as you turned back to him and followed him over to the corner. He stopped when his back was about to hit the wall and faced you. The proximity was dangerous, but he fought through the haze to follow his own order from before: focus.
Hunter’s hands started to reach out for the slit in your dress, but he was quick to stop himself as his visor found your gaze with ease. “May I?” He gestured to the long strip of exposed skin on your leg.
You smiled at him, and it was the first real one he had seen from you since you had entered the ballroom. “Please, Sergeant.” He caught the hard swallow you took with both his eyes and his ears. “You have full permission to touch me.”
Damn, your choice of words was making it even harder for him to focus the way he intended to. Hunter just nodded and continued, pretending the task was akin to helping Tech and Echo with the wiring on the Marauder. But the hull of the attack shuttle was nowhere near as soft and smooth as your skin, nor as rich as the silk he gently pushed aside to get to it.
It wasn’t your skin he needed to focus on. He found the hanging leather strap and identified the empty buckle that had come undone. Carefully, and while keeping his helmet level so as to not give his gaze away, he began to string the strap inside the buckle, his gloved fingertips brushing your skin.
The action brought an inhale to your lips that made Hunter pause, but more overwhelming was the sudden hammering of a heartbeat that, for once, wasn’t his own. His gaze secretly flickered up to you, just to find that your eyes were on his hands, as if he truly was holding something between the two of you. Even sweeter was the exhale that fell from your parted lips, because it wasn’t one of pain, worry, or anything Hunter was used to hearing as a result of his actions.
No, that was an unmistakable breath of pure pleasure. And he wanted to hear it again, and again, and again.
But this wasn’t the time nor the place, and this wasn’t a moment that was supposed to be happening, anyway. Hunter didn’t let himself get used to it. While he enjoyed the rush of whatever coursed through his body, he focused fully on fixing the holster, taking care not to pull it too tight even as he double checked its security.
Hunter’s words were spoken through a tight throat as he broke your silence. “How’s that?”
You nodded, another genuine smile overtaking your lips. “Perfect. Thank you, Sergeant.”
Hunter returned your nod before he fixed the skirt of your dress back in place, properly concealing your holster from view. His touch lingered before he could stop it. When he dragged his gaze back up to yours, he found that your eyes had been following his own the entire way. His senses should have been attuned to that entire room, but he was tunnel-visioned onto you and the glow of your gaze as you openly admired him.
That’s what it had to be, right? Surely, he wasn’t making that up, but it was the thing he was having trouble identifying. No one else had ever looked at him like that. No one else had ever raised a hand to press against his chestplate the way you were, now.
The moment vanished just as quickly as it arose. “Hunter, if you and the senator are done staring at each other, you’ve got a hostile inbound,” Crosshair warned.
Hunter instantly snapped back into action, and you took notice. He lifted his fingers to his helmet just as you took a step back. “Description?”
“Klatooinian. Making his way in from the east entrance.”
Hunter focused all his senses on that part of the room. Sure enough, he could hear the snarling breath of the Klatooinian, as well as the unmistakable movement of concealed weapons on his person.
“Give the order, and I’ll stun him now.”
Hunter tilted his helmet. “No. We can’t act before he does.”
Your brow furrowed in concern. “Who?”
Hunter remained gentle as he pressed a hand on your shoulder and eased you to the side, stepping in front of you. “We’re about to find out.” He gave you a quick glance. “Keep your hand near your holster, just in case.”
You nodded, allowing Hunter to focus fully on the approaching Klatooinian once again.
“Tech, do you have anything? Comms, cams?”
“It seems he is making use of neither,” Tech answered. “I’m not certain how he avoided the cams, unless he is somehow aware of where each one is placed. No unfamiliar comm channels are being used at the moment.”
“At least he’s alone.” Hunter’s fingers tapped along his blaster before he spoke again. “Echo and Wrecker? Anything?”
“I haven’t seen anyone suspicious,” Wrecker insisted. “Can I come in to help?”
“Negative. Stay at your post for now.”
“No action in the power room,” Echo informed him. “Guess they’re really just sending one tonight.”
Hunter didn’t like the conclusion he was reaching. “He’s their warning.”
He abandoned the blaster to reach for the hilt of the blade on his arm. Hunter waited, listening for the telltale groan of leather on the Klatooinian’s holster. As soon as he heard it, he acted.
One throw was all it took. His aim didn’t let him down as the quick toss of the blade disarmed the Klatooinian across the room, raising sharp gasps from the unexpecting politicians and diplomats. Even the senator let out a breath of surprise, your hand falling on his armored shoulder as you stepped out from behind him.
“Hold on, Senator,” Hunter warned you, using his arm to block you. “He might not be done yet.”
The Klatooinian huffed and attempted to make an escape. Hunter stayed with you and raised his fingers to his helmet.
“Now’s your chance, Wrecker! He’s getting away!”
“Oh yeah!” Wrecker came barreling into the room without hesitation, and it was only a matter of seconds until he had taken the Klatooinian to the ground. The blow alone was enough to knock the Klatooinian out cold, allow Wrecker to toss the man over his shoulder and carry him over to Hunter. “That was a lot easier than tackling a clanker, honestly.”
Hunter huffed at that. “Good work.” He then turned to you, his chest pulling tight at the concern in your eyes. “Are you okay, Senator?”
You nodded, portraying an image of strength as you straightened your shoulders. “Yes, thanks to you and your squad.”
Hunter grimaced underneath his helmet. “Don’t thank us yet.” He activated his comm yet again. “Tech, Crosshair, do a quick surveillance of what’s going on beyond the capitol walls.”
It was mere moments until Tech responded. “Wait. I’m just now picking up on a distress signal from one of the villages. They’ve been attacked.”
Hunter exhaled deeply. “That’s what I thought.” He prepared himself to give you the news, and the deflation of your shoulders already pained him before he did so. “Senator, there’s been an attack on another village.”
Your eyes widened, and as Hunter studied them, he saw you approaching the same conclusion as himself. “That’s why they only sent one person here.”
Hunter’s fists tightened at his sides. “It’s a warning. They can do both at once, and they want you to choose between your safety here and the safety of your people.”
You let your defeat show, if only for a moment. It was enough to make Hunter step closer to you and set a hand on your shoulder.
“You won’t have to make that choice, Senator.” He gestured with his helmet to Wrecker, who was still standing with the Klatooinian nearby. “Not as long as we’re here.”
The look you gave him said everything you couldn’t, especially with your guard quickly coming over and the guests scattering at the sudden chaos. Things were quickly getting even more complicated—for you and Hunter especially.
chapter 2 ⟸ series masterlist ⟹ chapter 4
hunter tag list: @zenrobbins0021 @cw80831 @yunggoblin @maddiedrmr
senator’s shadow tag list: @violetlilly2020 @jellybeanstacey0519
#who's ready to get UNHINGED??? bc i sure am!!!#tbb hunter#tbb hunter x reader#tbb hunter x you#hunter tbb x reader#sergeant hunter x reader#the bad batch fanfiction#the bad batch fic#senator's shadow#dindjarindiaries
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Can't Sleep
Negan x F! Reader
summary Negan helps you out when you can't sleep
tags cockwarming, pet names, fluff, groping
just a little drabble (what is a drabble) born from my procrastination problem
*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact! :) *
i did not proofread this!
wc: 538
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆
She stood outside of Negan’s bedroom door, rocking anxiously on her heels as she waited for him to answer the door. She raised her fist to knock again, but before it could make contact, the door opened. Negan stood leaning against the doorway in his white t-shirt and boxers. He looked tired and slightly irritated, probably from just having been woken up. His thick brows raised upon seeing it was her standing at the door, in nothing but a tank top and panties. He grabbed her arm and pulled her inside before slamming the door.
“The hell you doin’ walkin’ around the Sanctuary like that?” He growled.
“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep,” she mumbled, looking down, “can I sleep in here…with you?” Negan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.
“Fine, just this once. This will not become a regular thing,” he reluctantly agreed. She jumped into his arms and hugged him tight before pressing a quick peck to his lips. He set her down and she wasted no time in climbing into his bed. He climbed in beside her and she cozied up in his arms. His long eyelashes kissed his cheeks as his eyes fluttered shut, waiting for sleep to take him back. She wasn’t sleeping, and by the looks of it she wasn’t even trying. Her gaze was fixed on his pretty face as she doodled random details with her finger onto his strong chest.
“Doll, what the hell are you doin’?” He asked without even opening his eyes. She withdrew her finger and rested her head on his chest instead, facing him. He opened his eyes and glanced down at her. She was looking up at him with small smile and big doe eyes.
“It…it’s hard for me to sleep without…you…inside of me,” she admitted shyly before burying her face in his shirt. Negan couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at his mouth corners. After their nights together, Negan would usually stay inside of her, keeping his seed inside of her abused cunt, even after he went soft. It wasn’t intentional, but the first time it happened, she had fallen asleep before he was ready to pull out and when he finally was, she whined for him to stay. So he did. And it became a thing
“Oh baby, hearin’ that just tightens my goddamn pants!” When she peeked up at him, a dimpled smile was upon his face. She sat up and moved to straddle his hips, Negan’s hands on either of hers guiding her. He freed his semi-hard dick from his boxers before moving her panties to the side and rubbed the tip along her slick slit before lining himself up with her dripping hole. She met him the rest of the way, sliding down his shaft. She felt each vein sliding along the velvety walls of her pussy.
“You fill me up so good, Negan,” she sighed contently before laying down against his chest. His large hands slipped beneath the waistband of her panties and groped her ass. She let a breathy moan out by his ear as he continued kneading the mounds.
“Neegaan, I’m trying to sleep,” she whined.
“Shhh, babydoll, go to sleep.”
thank you for reading!
#negan x reader#negan x you#negan smith#negan smith x reader#negan smut#negan x y/n#smut#twd negan#the walking dead smut#the walking dead#the walking dead negan#twd fanfiction#fanfic#negan fanfiction#negan#female reader#pwp#jeffrey dean morgan#jdm#jdmorgan#negan smith x you#negan smith x y/n#drabble#wtf is a drabble?!#fluff#cuddling and touching#affectionate cuddling#couple cuddling#not proofread#jdm smut
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a soft place to land
zutara month, day 16: injury recovery, @zutaramonth
summary: in the aftermath of an assasination attempt on katara, she finds herself safe in his bed, zuko looking after her from the bedside.
warnings: assasination/murder attempt, complicated thoughts about punitive judgment and executions, etc, excessive use of adverbs, lmao.
other notes: title taken from "a dream is a soft place to land" from waitress.
Katara’s eyes flicker open. She immediately sets to prop herself up on her elbows, struggling not to groan with fatigue and discomfort as she does.
The sheets underneath her are gold and silken, the room around her faintly familiar.
She’s in the Fire Nation. She’d been here as an Ambassador for the latest treaty revision. A servant… a man dressed as a servant, anyway, he’d served her tea in the private chambers kept for her here, and her throat had begun to swell, panic building as it did, chest burning as the door slammed ominously shut behind him. She remembers lifting her hand shakily, trying to guide her blood to keep the toxins from working through it, but she couldn’t tear it out of her without extracting her own blood, it was no use, she couldn’t think—her head met the floor, brow slick with sweat, she was going to die…
As she looks around in the darkness, it occurs to her exactly where she is now.
“Zuko?”
He’d come looking for her just in time.
The last thing she remembers before her awakening is the taste of something herbal and sickly sweet, being overcome with sick and the aftermath of bile, Zuko’s gentle hand cradling the back of her head, and then succumbing to the darkness.
“I’m right here,” he says quietly in the dark, and when she turns just slightly to her right, she can see shadows cast over his house face. He’s sitting in a chair by her bedside, folding in on himself and wringing his hands until he casts his worried gaze up to meet her eyes. “It’s okay. You’re really okay.” He sounds almost disbelieving. “How do you feel?”
It’s quite the inverse of the last time she was here when he was the one prone on the bed, marked by lightning, and she waited up all night for him to wake again, too wired to sleep, needing to keep a weathered eye on his wound.
“Not amazing,” she manages a bout of shaky laughter. “But I’m alive, so that’s something. How did you know what to… ?”
Zuko was alone when he arrived and fed to her what must have been the antidote, though she thinks she remembers the patter of other footsteps arriving after the fact, possibly a sea of medics.
At this, Zuko leans back in his chair a little, rubbing an embarrassed hand at the back of his head. “Oh—my mother learned about plants and things from her mother.” Zuko’s mouth tilts into a frown. “I think she was an herbalist? I’m not sure.” He shakes his head. “I didn’t know what they’d used but—we keep something stocked here. It’s not a cure-all, but…” Shrugging again, he sighs. “Thank Agni it worked.”
“Forget Agni,” she murmurs. “Thank you.” Something that might have been panic if not for her weariness swells in her chest suddenly. “The man… ?”
Even through the darkness and the haze she still finds her mind in, she catches the way his pupils dilate, the way his posture stiffens. She’s seen him angry like this before. Protective-angry. She imagines his fingers are probably curling hard against the edge of his chair as he grips it, but looking down to check seems difficult and unnecessary. “Hired assassin.”
“Oh.” It’s sort of strange to think she’s an important enough figure that someone would try to assassinate her, that her death wouldn’t be a simple murder but rather to make some political statement or another. “That’s new. For me, anyway.”
Zuko’s had a few attempts on his own life in the past year, as she recalls. Most of them she read about through letters after the fact—she was here for the last one, though, and thank the spirits for that. Stab wounds are simple enough to heal with her bending—if they don’t bleed out first, which can happen more quickly than one might expect. Needless to say, Katara’s glad she was around.
Zuko says the next like an oath. “The assassin is being dealt with.” With a confusing mix of shame, fear, and relief, she wonders how. Zuko’s not the type to execute, certainly not without trial, which is how things would have been done in the Fire Nation in days past. Mostly, she’s relieved for that, but still, she finds herself wondering whether she’ll regret being such a ready proponent of the right to trial and imprisonment over execution in the weeks to come. There is a swallow of fear in her throat, but it might wisp away once this isn’t all so fresh.
But perhaps that’s something to think on later.
“So are his benefactors,” Zuko spits out the word like it’s full of poison itself. “I’ve written to your father and Sokka and to Aang,” he adds. Katara’s stomach clenches unpleasantly in a way she suspects only has a little to do with the day’s events. Zuko doesn’t know she and Aang haven’t spoken in months, that they’re no longer together. “Spirits, Katara, I’m so sorry.”
Katara frowns as she leans back against the pillows. “What for? You didn’t poison me.”
“It was done on my watch, in my palace, because some group of fucking noblemen I’ve been trying to appease are—I keep trying and failing to make things better, and instead…”
“Zuko,” she glares at him in the hopes that it will quiet his self-recrimination. It does, quite efficiently, and she smiles. “Not everything gets to be your fault. Will you just accept my thanks for saving me instead?”
At this, she yawns, and she watches as his expression softens in the dim light of his bedroom.
Zuko rolls his eyes then, but there’s a faint smile playing on his lips, too, and she’s glad to feel the mood lighten again, though she can feel weariness starting to take her once more.
“That’s what you and I do,” he allows quietly after a moment, his (pretty, she thinks hazily, so pretty) amber eyes shining with the truth of what he’s saying. “We save each other. Get some more rest, Katara.”
Still a little awake, but with her eyes closed, she asks drowsily, not even sure she manages the words, “Will you be here when I wake up?”
Zuko’s answer is quiet but certain. “Of course I will.”
Katara hums as she falls back into the allure of sleep, safe with the knowledge Zuko is watching over her.
#zutaramonth2024#zutara#zuko x katara#zutara month#katara x zuko#atla#my fic#day 16: injury recovery.#a soft place to land#trigger: murder.#trigger: assasination.#bloodbending
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For the first sentence of a fic ask
Katara’s choking sound filled the room which gained the attention of her friends until Katara stopped and turned to face Azula with a shocked face.
hello bestie!
this is too funny . . .
okay so hear meowt-
***
THE PROPOSAL
Katara’s choking sound filles the room, which gaines the attention of her friends until Katara stops and turns to face Azula with a shocked face.
Azula, sitting closest to Katara in the enormous dining hall, is half way down slurping her noodles when she notices the racket. Her own eyes grow wide as she witnesses Katara holding her throat and gasping for air, but not getting any.
Now, for the people who've been following Azula around in the palace since she was a little kid, they know it's common knowledge that Azula, would quite normally, enjoy watching the person choke themselves into oblivion instead of rushing to help them.
And in this case, Katara being the one who's the traditional healer of the group, no one else knew what to do in this situation. They could only sit and watch their friend choke helplessly. The waterbender's eyes begin to water as she looks all around frantically.
So, it's safe to say that it comes as a surprise when Azula calmly places her chopsticks near her almost empty bowl, stands up, walks behind the now standing Katara and envelops the choking waterbender in a hug from behind.
Everyone's too shocked to speak as Azula places a fist right under Katara's now matured chest and pushes it into the waterbender forcefully. Katara jumps up high in her arms at the impact. But Azula simply does it again.
And again.
And again.
Until Katara coughs something out of her mouth and it comes flying out to hit Sokka on the head, who's sitting exactly opposite to Katara. The waterbender gasps in a lung full of air and then lets out a string of coughs, her hands desperately holding on to Azula's strong arms wrapped around her stomach, keeping her from collapsing.
Azula flattens one of her palms over Katara's back and rubs soothing circles. "There, there, peasant. We don't want you dying on us now, do we?"
Katara wipes around her mouth with the back of her palm, trying to calm down from the sudden adrenaline rush of almost dying. Sokka, being the naturally curious person that he is, bends down under the table to pick up whatever the hell hit him on his head. When he brings it out to the light, he gasps out loud.
"It's a Water Tribe betrothal pendant!!"
Katara looks at the round, blue, glimmering, piece of jewellery in Sokka's fingers. She immediately extends her hand to take it from him.
"It's not stone!" Katara exclaims, running her eyes all over the pendant. "It's some kind of . . ."
"Copper." Azula states as she removes herself away from Katara's person and takes back her seat, picking up her chopsticks non-chalantly to gobble down the rest of her noodles.
Katara turns to her immediately. "What?"
"It's Copper." Azula says with a roll of her eyes. "Clearly you peasants have no knowledge about this metal's existence. It's crystalized Copper. And very difficult to carve, by the way. I spent literally hours trying to get that thing carved."
The waterbender blinks, not believing what she's hearing. "Y- You made this?!"
"Yes."
"Why?!"
"For you, of course." Azula shrugs, filling her mouth with noodles.
Katara could only let her jaw hang.
"You're giving my sister a betrothal necklace?!" Sokka's voice is a high-pitched shriek.
Azula looks confused. "What are y'all yapping so much about? Isn't it traditional to betroth a girl when she's 16 in the Water Tribe? I know I'm an year late, but it still counts, right?"
"You're asking me to marry you?!" Now Katara's voice is an octave higher.
"Wow, you filths really are dense in the head." Azula wipes around her mouth with a napkin kept at the table like the proper royalty that she is.
"No!" Katara exclaims.
Azula looks at her with her brows furrowed together. "No, what?"
"No, I will not be marrying you! Are you crazy?!"
The princess stands up, having done with her meal. "I was three years ago. But not anymore." She says with a smirk, before bowing curtly and leaving a hall full of dumbstruck people.
....
Katara flips the pendant in her hand, deep in thought. She looks down at it, tracing the intricate carvings that adorn it with a finger. She's lying on her stomach, on the bed inside her room in the Fire Nation Palace, having had an eventful supper. She frowns when she notices something strange.
The carvings look exactly like her mother's betrothal necklace. Not even a single line out of place. She touches her mother's necklace and gasps softly.
Azula must have one hell of a brain if she can carve something out just from memory.
Then she thinks back to everything that conspired during their meal.
She must've slipped the pendant in my noodle soup when I wasn't looking, or something, to surprise me.
The pendant's beautiful. Too beautiful. She would've mistaken it for glass if it didn't radiate such a glossy blue glow, refracting candle light through it in a translucent haze. It's mesmerizing.
But the thing that nags her the most is, why would Azula of all people give her a betrothal necklace?! Does she like her, or something?!
Sure, Katara couldn't help but get lost in the princess's elegance from time to time, and blush like crazy whenever the firebender got even remotely close to her, thankful for her complexion hiding her flustered state, but that is beside the point.
Katara sits up. There's no way in hell she's going to sleep without talking something through with the very firebender that proposed to her. Determined, she gets up, wears her night robes and walks out of her room to the princess's chambers.
....
"Your highness?" Katara calls out softly, peeking inside a dimly lit, enormous room. Her eyes look all around before falling on the princess's frame by the table, sitting on a chair and reading a huge book by the candlelight hanging above her head.
The firebender takes a second longer to acknowledge Katara, her eyes hurriedly running over the last few lines on the page she's reading, before looking up. "I figured sooner or later you'll be here."
"Ha ha." Katara laughs humorlessly as she walks into the room and shuts the door behind her.
Azula places a peacock feather over the page she was reading and closes the heavy book. "State the purpose of your visit this late at night, peasant."
Katara scowls. But she's unable to hold it much longer when she spots the princess pulling out another chair by the table, gesturing her to take a seat.
The waterbender's bare feet make no noise when she walks up to the table, adjusting the chair a little bit, before sitting down, close to the firebender. It's the beginning of winter and nights, even in the Fire Nation, are getting pretty chilly.
When she finally settles down, with her knees almost touching the side of Azula's thigh, she looks up in contentment. The princess is still waiting for her answer, when Katara's eyes fall on her.
Katara takes in a deep breath. "I still haven't thanked you."
Azula frowns. "Whatever for?"
"For saving my life."
Azula clicks her tongue, in irritation. She turns back to the book before her. "Leave. I still need to complete this chapter and I need peace and quiet."
"No, I mean it. Thank you, your highness . . ."
Azula doesn't answer as she flips open the heavy book again.
"The remedy for choking is still not known by many." Katara says softly. "Where did you learn it?"
Azula's eyes find Katara, without ever turning away from the book. "I read about it somewhere." She explains before letting her eyes fall to the book before her again.
Katara hums. She unintentionally falls silent as her gaze finds itself helplessly drawn to the princess's perfectly crafted face. She traces curves and crevices sculpted in astonishing precision, even when the firebender is devoid of any make up. Her golden brown eyes shimmer in the candle light's flicker, and the sight puts Katara in a trance.
"You can stare all you want after you marry me." Azula says without turning away from her book, and that jolts Katara awake.
"Who says I'm marrying you?" The waterbender is quick to deny, her face getting heated rapidly. "I never said yes to your proposal, remember? If you can even consider that a proposal. You didn't even ask me properly!"
"Your father." Azula states.
"My father? What about him?"
"Yeah . . ." The princess looks up from the book. "He met with Zuzu to negotiate a stable course of action, considering the amount of overwhelming peasants from the Water Tribe opposing the idea of working together with the Fire Nation."
Katara's eyes are wide and attentive as she can almost predict where this is going.
"So," Azula continues. "They put their heads together and came up with this; a marriage alliance. And as Zuzu is already planning on marrying Mai . . . You're stuck with me. Personally, I think it's okay, considering how nothing really is satisfying you barbarians."
"Hey!" Katara exclaims. "If anyone's a barbarian, it's you people! You started the hundred year war and butchered an entire nation!"
Azula stares at her. "Out of all the things I said, that is what you choose to respond to?"
Katara pushes her chair back and jumps up, her knees bumping Azula's thigh. "Whatever! I'm gonna talk to my dad first thing in the morning to cancel this supposed 'marriage alliance'."
"Suit yourself." Azula says, turning back to her book as Katara storms out of her chamber in anger.
....
The next morning, Katara finds herself grumpily sitting in the dining hall for breakfast all alone, as all others have already had theirs. The meeting with her dad dragged on longer than she would've liked.
It's stupid, considering the fact that Katara never really entered her father's chambers to discuss the crisis at hand. She just paced outside his room, for a long time, contemplating what to say and how to say it. To be honest, she wasn't really that opposed to this marriage alliance anyway. She came here just out of spite. She was turning on her heels, already loosing her nerve and giving up, when her father came out, ready to head for breakfast. And it certainly did not help when she randomly blurted out 'I don't want to marry Azula' out of no where when he greeted her with a good morning.
Her father had just laughed it off stating it's just jitters and he's "seen the way you look at Azula".
Katara had then spent her whole morning contemplating living under a rock from embarrassment, but then her stomach growled and she dragged her feet to the dining hall reluctantly.
Her brooding comes to an end when she finds the object of her crisis walk into the hall, her hair up in a small topknot and the rest of it long and falling freely over her shoulders, her signature bangs still in place. Katara's eyes follow the princess as she takes a seat opposite to her, clad in a simple, light red, yukata with short sleeves.
The waterbender notices Azula's skin coated with a slim layer of sweat, making her glisten in the morning sunshine wafting in through the hall. She averts her gaze hastily.
She's not supposed to be feeling this way towards her! Even when she's supposed to marry her!
"Slept in?" The princess's mocking voice makes Katara look back up at her.
"Not really." The waterbender replies politely. Then she catches the drift of what Azula's implying. Didn't she tell her yesterday night that she was gonna call off the marriage alliance? It really is a slap in the face for Katara when she realizes that she never broke off the betrothal. And she's not ready to make peace with the fact that she doesn't really want to break it off.
Their breakfast arrives and Azula's upon it even before the servant places it on the table. Katara looks at her with amusement. "One would think you were starved for weeks." The waterbender teases at the way Azula gobbles up the food.
"Never go easy on breakfast." Azula swallows a mouthful as her manners of not talking while eating kicks in. "Especially after a good workout and training."
"Training?" Katara raises an eyebrow. That explains the sweat.
"Yeah. Every morning. You don't?"
"Not really." Katara chooses to say again, trying not to pay attention to the way the princess's arms flex when she's using them, fresh out of a workout.
They both fall silent, only opening their mouths to eat. When they're done, Katara wipes her hands and face in the hot napkin placed on the table and stands up to leave. So does Azula. The waterbender walks out of the hall, slowing down near the doorway to wait for Azula when she comes out.
But she never comes.
Instead, Katara hears someone speaking beyond the dining hall inside what she thinks is the kitchen. And because it's so quiet in the morning with only the chirping of birds to keep her company, she frowns softly as she follows through the kitchen to where the voices are coming from.
She hears Azula speak, so she braces herself against the wall beside the entrance to the kitchen, out of sight from anyone who might want to look outside.
". . . but the flavours were thick. Make sure you simmer down on the basil and lift up curry leaves. It would provide useful and time saving and, dare I say, delicious. And, Zata? We need to incorporate more from other nations if we're supposed to excel at anything we do. This goes to cuisine as well . . . And prepare stewed sea prunes for lunch, will you? I'm told it's the Water Tribe princess's favourite." The princess is saying.
"Yes, princess." Katara guesses it's Zata who agrees with the firebender.
"Keep up the work." Azula says finally.
Katara hurriedly makes herself scarce from the vicinity as she hears the princess's footsteps staring to echo out.
Katara's sure her blush is visible for miles when she makes her way to the royal gardens to cool off.
....
The lunch, as expected, fills the whole dining hall with the aroma of stewed sea prunes and Katara doesn't even have to look at the bowl before her to know it.
Azula's sat directly opposite to her and the waterbender can no way in hell meet the golden brown gaze annoyingly fixed on her. She struggles to make it through one spoonful of stew without blushing like a maniac.
This is so absurd! Get it together, Katara! It's not like she gave you the whole world! She just made you your favourite dish. It's not a big deal!
But . . . it's Azula we're talking about! When has she ever done something this nice to someone else?!
"Is it not to your liking?" She hears a voice in front of her and she has no other choice than to look into those scrutinising eyes.
Azula's eyebrows are merged together, deep in thought, watching Katara struggle to eat her lunch, unaware of the problem. The waterbender, however, is hyper-aware of it, the smell of the stew reminding her every second that it was because of Azula.
Katara offers her a small, nervous smile. "It's good, your highness."
Their friends are present in the dining hall, so Azula doesn't press the issue further. But her face remains thoughtful the entire duration of their lunch.
Katara is the first to leave the hall, having gulped down the hot stew directly from the bowl, in an attempt to get out of there soon. She can heal her burned tongue later. She just needs to . . . get out.
She hurries off to her chambers, plopping down heavily on the bed, shutting her eyes close.
....
The royal gardens, that evening, sees Katara watering the plants, temporarily trying to get a certain firebender out of her insistent thoughts. The setting sun casts a warm glow over the flowers and trees, beautiful and sophisticated. A cool breeze flows in the garden and the waterbender is grateful for it, given the way her body heat seems to rise up eveytime she thinks about the fire princess.
Katara bends the water from a nearby pond and lifts it up, gently letting it fall, spraying over the fire lilies. She smiles, feeling rejuvenated with such a simple act. When she's about to turn around to water the other part of the garden, something, or rather someone catches her eye as she looks up.
She almost has a heart attack when she realizes it's Azula, leaning against a courtyard pillar, watching the waterbender do her thing. Katara freezes, eyes locked on the fire princess helplessly.
Azula, realising her presence is no longer unnoticed, pushes herself away from the pillar and steps into the garden, her gaze never leaving the waterbender. She walks towards Katara, gaining distance by the second and the waterbender's no longer in control of her own breathing.
The setting sun hits the firebender's eyes, and Katara's put in yet another trace with the way it gleams, looking at her in a way that makes her stomach flutter.
When she finally does get close, close enough for Katara to feel her warmth, Azula lifts her hand up, gently moving a strand of hair away from the waterbender's shoulder to expose her neck. She eyes her mother's necklace already placed on Katara's delicate neck and shifts her gaze to the waterbender's sparkling blue ones again.
"Marry me, Katara." Azula says, ever so softly. It's a command, but it sounds so desperate and so loving, that the waterbender's heart starts raging against her ribs. Katara can only let her lips fall open in a silent gasp, dumbstruck with the way Azula's making her feel.
The firebender searches her eyes, waiting a second longer for her to answer, before letting out a soft, glum sigh of defeat, turning around and walking out of the garden as quick as her own lightning.
Katara finds it difficult to catch her breath, even after a few minutes of just standing there.
....
That night, Katara finds herself standing before the giant doors of Azula's chambers again. She thinks of knocking, but then decides to just screw it and opens the door.
She enters the room and shuts and locks the door behind her. When she turns around, she notices that Azula's sat in the same table over the same book. Her wide golden brown eyes fall on Katara as she watches her with a rare glimmer, completely uncharacteristic of her.
When Katara walks inside, Azula stands up to meet her halfway. The flicker of the candlelight hanging above right beside them, bounces off of something shimmering, catching the firebender's sharp eyes right away.
Azula lifts her hand to Katara's neck, an ecstatic expression filling her face. She touches the cool, smooth, carved, crystal Copper hanging from the necklace on the waterbender's neck, and lifts her gaze to the matching blue eyes looking at her with longing.
Their eyes stay locked for a moment longer, before Katara opens her mouth to gasp, "Yes."
Azula's hand immediately reaches out to grab the waterbender's waist, as she pulls her flush against her. Katara swears she can practically taste Azula's smile when she leans forward and kisses her, deep and long.
By the time they break apart for air, Katara's brain is stuck in one giant daze, blinking up at Azula, hanging onto her shoulders desperately, unable to form coherent words except, "Your highness..."
"Bed. Now." Azula's voice is deep, bathed in dark hunger, and the waterbender can do nothing but nod frantically.
Katara didn't know that almost dying would end her up with a fiancé, but she isn't complaining much now at all.
....
"You really didn't like the stew, huh?"
"No. I loved it."
***
butterflies. straight up butterflies when i wrote this.
this could've been longer. but i tried to make it simple 😭🖐🏻 its funny because i was already thinking of their dynamic in marriage proposals and BAM the perfect opportunity presents itself in the form of an ask inbox.
thank you for the ask bestie! @waterfire1848
#azutara#when sokka finds out he becomes the frothing mouth guy#toph just laughs it off considering the fact that she could feel their body reactions from miles away for almost a year now#ragzie yaps#kazula#katzula#azula x katara#katara x azula#fanfic#fanfiction#atla#asks#asked and answered#drabbles#atla drabbles#send me asks#ask me anything#literally anything#short stories#one shot#marriage alliance#fluff#sokka#sokka of the southern water tribe#hakoda#hakoda of the southern water tribe#chief hakoda#princess azula#katara of the southern water tribe#why does this have so many tags omg??????
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just let me help you | tech x reader
warnings: small injury
(shoutout to my sister for this fic idea☝🏻)
-
“Kriff”, was not the first irritated word to leave techs mouth.
He had been working on fixing a part of the marauders control panel for the last 20 minutes.
All of his efforts, however, are to no avail.
A pair of footsteps walks up behind him and sighs, “Tech, I’m calling in someone from the hangar”, hunter says.
Tech just adjusts his goggles and continues tinkering with the controls, “That is unnecessary, I can fix it.”
Hunter knows full well that tech is capable of fixing just about anything, but they were on a serious time crunch to get off of this planet.
-
You’re making some minor adjustments to one of your astromecs when a tall, dark haired man with a face tattoo walks up to you.
“Are you a mechanic?”
The hand that’s holding a wrench stills as you look down at your dusty coveralls and back at him with a “What does it look like?” look.
He laughs lightly, “Were kind of in a hurry and could use some help, we can’t pay much, but it would be really appreciated.”
You stand up, dust off your legs and push your glasses farther up your nose, “Payment isn’t needed, lead the way.”
-
You walk into the cockpit of their ship and see a man looking very frustratedly at some loose wires, “I am getting there, hunter.”
“I’ve never seen an omicron class attack shuttle with these modifications before.”
He stops what he’s doing immediately and turns around, “Pardon me, I thought you were my brother.”
The way he’s looking at you makes your face turn slightly pink, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to barge in or anything.”
He adjusts his goggles, “Who are you, exactly?”
You fiddle with your eyewear as well and tell him your name, “I’m a mechanic here at the hangar, your brother sent me.”
He looks at you silently for a second before swallowing and facing away from you, “I am Tech. However, I can manage this, you may go back to your duties around the hangar.”
You cross your arms and tilt your head, “Your brother said that you’ve been working on it for a while, can I just take a look?”
He glances at you sideways and moves over slightly, “I suppose a second opinion wouldn’t be a negative thing.”
You smile softly and make your way over to the control panel, looking at every single detail and focusing on each piece.
Tech, of course, notices how entranced you seem to be by the technology of the ship and can’t help but stare at you.
The way your glasses fall down your nose slightly, the way your eyebrows slightly furrow, the way you bite your bottom lip, he takes note of it all. Your focus might be on the controls, but techs focus is all on you.
Tech blindly reaches for some random wires, seeing how his gaze can’t be torn away from your face, and you notice, “Wait, don’t put those toget-“, your voice cuts off.
You warn him a little too late, and he brings a wire down onto another and shocks his fingers.
He lets out a startled sound and backs away, “Are you alright?”
He looks at you and the way that you’re worriedly checking his hand, “I, I think I will manage.”
You look up at him with a quirked brow, “It would kill you to ask for help, wouldn’t it?”
You swear he’s slightly blushing, “I suppose it wouldn’t cause extensive damage to my health.”
A grin breaks out onto your face as you both sit in chairs opposite from each other. You pull out a small med kit from your satchel.
You hold his hand and slowly peel off his glove. You start to feel almost nervous. All you’re doing is taking off his glove but it feels so… close.
You gently inspect his fingers, “It’s not too bad, you just got a first degree burn on your pointer finger and thumb.”
You look up to see him looking at you silently with his lips parted, but after a second or two, he clears his throat, “That’s the conclusion I came to as well.”
As you wrap his fingers in bacta patches and dry wraps, you speak up, “So, are you and your brothers soldiers?”, you gesture to his armor.
“My brothers and I are enhanced clones from kamino. I suppose we are technically still soldiers, just for a different cause.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “Enhanced? I’ve heard of clones because of the war, but I never knew there were enhanced ones.”
Tech adjusts his goggles, “Yes, each of my brothers has an enhanced trait. Hunter can track and sense any electromagnetic frequency on the planet, crosshairs marksmanship is unlike any you will ever see, wrecker has the strength of approximately 100 regular clones and I have what would be referred to as a brilliant mind.”
You finish bandaging his fingers but his hand stays loosely on top of yours, “I find that men with the highest intelligence quotients tend to be the most engaging and endearing.”
He looks a little flushed and maybe even taken aback, but recovers quickly, “That is one way to characterize those with a mind similar to mine.”
You look at him for a few seconds before awkwardly clearing your throat, “Well, we should probably get back to fixing up your ship. Try not to connect two opposing wires this time around.”
You once again feel nervous around the brilliant clone. The way he looks at you, it is almost as if he is seeing the beautiful blue lakes of Naboo for the first time.
He stands next to you as you resume inspecting the controls, “Technically, it was not my fault.”
You snort, “Is that so?”
“Yes. I am not used to being in the company of someone who has a mind like mine, it is very distracting. The amount of beauty you have in your face alone does not help my situation. Neither does the fact that every other part of you is equally radiant and stunning.”
You nearly choke. Tech thought you were beautiful?
Somehow, your face becomes more blushed, “I don’t know about my beauty being as much as you say”, you awkwardly laugh.
Tech glances over at you, “Those who do not acknowledge your beauty simply do not have the brain capacity to realize how exquisite you really are.”
You bite your lip to hide your smile, “You’re one to talk. I blush everytime you look me in the eye.”
He’s about to say something else but he catches the look of confusion on your face, “Is everything alright?”
You point to a switch below the controls, “Your power switch is turned off. Tech, there’s nothing wrong with your controls”, you can’t help but laugh.
You turn the switch on and the panel comes to life, “I did not realize that somebody turned off the switch.”
“You’re welcome.”
The two of you turn around to see a tall man with a tattoo over his eye and a toothpick in his mouth, one of his brothers, probably.
He points his toothpick at tech, “I had to get her here somehow. You’re welcome”, he walks away.
You grin and cross your arms, “So your ship was fine this whole time?”
“That is correct, but I was not aware of that.”
“And why would your brothers bring me here?”
“Perhaps they noticed my gaze linger on you for longer than usual when we first arrived.”
#star wars#the bad batch#bad batch#star wars bad batch#tbb#tech x fem!reader#tech the bad batch#tech fanfic#tech x reader#tech bad batch#tech star wars#tbb tech#the bad batch tech#tech#tech x you#tbb x reader#tbb x you#tbb tech x reader#tbb tech x you#tech tbb#clone troopers#clones x reader#clone x reader#clone trooper x reader#star wars fic#star wars fanfiction#bad batch fic#tbb fic#one shot#x reader
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Gojo Satoru SFW alphabet (NB)
HELLO ALL. This is part one of my super awesome 100 follower celebration! Coming up next is the Gojo Satoru NSFW Alphabet, and, despite all that is good and holy, the Katsuki Bakugou SFW/NSFW alphabet. I know he didn't win the poll, but so many of my followers are here for Katsuki centric content, so it only makes sense to me.
In this, the reader is as nb as I could make them while sticking to my concepts, although there is a "I wanna get u pregnant tee hee" joke that you should probably be aware of.
Cred for template goes to ONE MORE SHOT
Word count: ~6000
Warnings: Cursing, light angst, and...that's it, I think!
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
He prefers physical affection above all else...at least, that's what you'd think based on how much he hangs on you when you're together. Always he's touching you, making it so there was no question about whether or not you were together. Truly though, that was just for you. He liked it, loved it, loved any form of affection to and from you, but The thing that gave him the most butterflies was acts of service from you.
He was so used to doing everything for himself, and to being better than others at everything, that he never really knew what it was like to be cared for in that way.
Anyone could technically hug him, or spend time with him, or give him gifts, or tell him he did something good...but only you could make him breakfast before he gets a chance to, or do the dishes more efficiently, or beat a part of a game he can't for some reason. It makes him weak in the knees, like he can relax with you.
"Whatcha doin?"
"Makin' your lunch for tomorrow. Why?" You glance over to him, smiling as you watched him curiously peer over your shoulder.
"...No reason..." He mumbled, a smile growing on his face about as fast as that blush. He brings his arms around your waist, his chin on your head as he watched you work.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
You are his best friend. No doubt about it. If you weren't he wouldn't be dating you, it only made sense to him. Was he yours...? He didn't actually know, and to be honest he didn't care. If he wasn't, he'd definitely tease you about it, but otherwise he was perfectly content treating you like his bestie.
"I'm going out with my friends," you called out, slipping on your shoes.
"Why? What about me?" Satoru whined, staring at you with a sarcastic pout from the couch.
"We're gonna be drinking," you laughed, raising your brows.
"...so?"
"So you're a lightweight."
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He's a cuddler, but a lazy cuddler 9 times out of 10. His arm gently around you on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder. His cheek on your scalp as you do literally anything that requires you to stand still (cooking, on the train, grocery shopping). Still, there's that one time where he holds you like you might dissipate if he doesn't.
Maybe after a nightmare, maybe after a mission a bit more dangerous than he or you let on, whatever it was, it was like he might lose you.
He does it when you're asleep, when he thinks you're not conscious enough to feel him being soft. The only reason you know is because sometimes he wakes you up with it, and he's too emotional to notice.
you'd be laying in bed with Satoru, nearly one in the morning, sleeping peacefully. Then, you feel his arms wrap around you, tight enough to wake you up. His mouth would be pressed to the top of your head, his breath slow, as if he were savoring the scent of you.
"You won't leave me, right...?" He wasn't talking to you, really he was talking to himself.
"...nah. You wouldn't..."
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
You know those people who try to go to the gym to get their life together, but really just like the aesthetic and can't follow through? That's Satoru with Domestic life. He'd love to settle down in one spot with you and do all the cute domestic things, like cook dinner every night and go grocery shopping every week, but he just can't focus for that long, he always has to be moving. Changing apartments, trying new restaurants, going wherever on a whim, they were all things he loved and domestic life lacked.
That's what he thinks, and that's what you let him think, but little does he know he hasn't moved in three years (a record for him), You've been "sleeping over" for the entirety of those three years, and you take turns making meals any time you're together, as well as split household chores.
Kids are another thing, he wouldn't willingly have kids. If you two conceived, or somehow managed to accidentally receive a child, he'd be content taking care of it with you, but truthfully he likes the calm personal life he lives, not to mention the fact that it wouldn't be ethical to him to raise a child while living such a dangerous life.
"Have you ever thought about having kids?"
"...getting you pregnant? sure. Kids...not so much."
"ok, good. I don't really want them either."
"We can still try for one, though~"
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He loves you too much to end it for reasons other than external forces, so there are two ways I can write this. One...
He makes himself the bad guy. Being flaky, being extra condescending, ignoring you more. He distances himself in the hopes that you see how bad he's being and call it off. He never wants you to think that he doesn't love you, or that he could ever find anyone better, so he acts like he's the shittiest boyfriend to ever boyfriend. Of course, you inevitably see through this, and he has to be honest.
"Listen...I...We can't do this anymore. You've been through a lot, I've been through a lot, and if we stay together, there are things out there that'll just make it worse. I might be selfish, but I'm not selfish enough to keep you with me when I know it'll hurt you."
And, prompt two would be...
Satoru breaking up with anyone but you, people he doesn't care about...He's ruthless. He could be with his partner at the time in the middle of a date, probably on his phone from the amount of boredom he experiences simply from being in the presence of this person, when he just announces,
"Let's break up."
"H-huh?!"
"Yeah, fun while it lasted, it's not you it's me, all that," he sighs, walking off to find something else to quell his boredom.
I would like to say that personally, I think that most of his dating happened early in life, teens to early 20s, before he realized how difficult it would be in his line of work for numerous reasons and eventually gave up. Until he met you, of course.
F = Fiancé(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
He is constantly talking about marrying you. He "proposes" once a week, you'd think you were already his fiancé by now.
his head in your lap as he watches you click away on your phone? "Marry me~"
You doing the dishes as he comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist?
"I'd consummate a wedding so hard with you right now~"
Doing- well, uh, this third example can wait for the NSFW portion.
Long story short, he constantly talks about it, but neither of you truly predict a wedding. First of all, you wouldn't even take his name because of how dangerous it is to be tied to the Gojo clan, and second of all...you're kinda already married. You have everything but the ring and the paper.
You live together, you'll never leave each other (unless a situation like in E arises, in which case it'd be especially helpful to not have the shared legal documents a wedding would bring), and you cook and clean for each other.
Lastly, he doesn't see the appeal. He understands the want to celebrate love, but to him, he doesn't need one special day when he can make every day special. Why buy you one ring for one day when he could buy you a new ring every day? Why put on nice clothes and promise to give you the world one measly evening when he could do just that every Saturday? He was just fine being your forever boyfriend.
"Mmm...Let's have a spring wedding," Satoru cooed, holding you by your hips as you chopped vegetables.
"There's too much pollen in the spring," you countered, an amused smile on your face.
"Winter then?"
"Too cold."
"Summer?"
"Too hot."
"...I'm beginning to think you might not actually wanna marry me." You could just hear the smile in his tone.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
In the SFW sense, he treats you like glass, physically at least. He kisses you with a sort of soft passion, like he wants you to melt in his arms...and you do. He holds you with feather light brushes of his hand, caressing your body and face because you're a work of art. He never wants you to be afraid of him, and although he knows you're strong enough to handle him, he couldn't bear the thought of losing you because he's too rough. He's gentle because he knows what he has.
Emotions are different, they're hard for him, and seeing as he's been through so much he doesn't understand why you get worked up over "little things." When you rant about something annoying that happened to you, he listens, but he doesn't empathize. He's on your side, always, but he's rather indifferent to your daily issues. Because of this, It makes you feel like you can't tell him things because it won't merit the reaction you want from him. He'll try for you, though.
"And so he said that I was being irrational, but I wasn't being irrational, I was..." You trailed off, looking at Satoru's sympathetic yet empty smile. "Do you think I was being irrational?"
"No! Of course not..." he said quickly, sitting up a little straighter. Did he? Well...He didn't...not think you were being irrational...but he also didn't agree with that other guy. Fuck that other guy.
"Well you have to tell me if you do, I don't wanna look stupid..."
"Relax, babe," he sighed, although it wasn't clear even to himself if he was referring to the situation or to you thinking he thought you were in the wrong.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
As I said before, he's constantly hanging on you, his hugs ranging anywhere from a quick squeeze to a desperate clutch. He just always wants to be touching you. That said, he only gives hugs to you. If one of his students or even a colleague hugs him, he'd be fine with that, but he only willingly gives hugs and physical affection to you.
"Whatcha doin?" You looked up at your boyfriend from your seat in front of the couch, who had a controller in his hand, his legs on either side of your body.
"playin video games." That's not what you were asking about, and he knew that.
"...is me being here really necessary?" You glanced down at his arms, which were resting on your shoulders and caging your head between them as his eyes stayed locked on the screen.
"Uh- y- fuck, fuck fuck fuck," he muttered, before GAME OVER scrawled across the screen in big letters. He feigned sadness, using it as an excuse to lean over you, pull you closer to him, and press his face next to yours. "Damn it, now you've gotta make me feel better..."
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
You two were friends long before you started dating, and you didn't start dating until he knew he loved you...or rather, he knew it was safe to. You were strong enough to hold your own against his enemies, so he would never have to worry about you getting hurt, and therefore he could love you without being afraid.
That said, he didn't tell you he loved you until after you told him.
Truth be told...he forgot about it. He was so exited to be able to love you freely that he forgot about actually telling you, after all he had shown it loads before without words.
"Satoru...I love you..." you whispered nervously, confessing to him late at night in his arms.
"Uh-" he practically choked on air, not about the fact that you told him you loved him, but specifically about the fact that you were nervous. You seriously didn't think he'd say it back? Was he that confusing?
"I love you too," he announced quickly, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
Jealousy? He can't comprehend it. He's not jealous in the slightest, he knows he's special, and he knows you know. That said, he does take the time to remind you how great he is when someone else tries to flirt with you. Buying you a random gift, showering you with praise, doing you a service, whatever it is he thinks he needs to do. It's almost like he's trying to prove it to the other person, even if they're not necessarily there to see it.
"No, Sorry," you say gently to the man who just asked for your number. He wasn't aggressive towards you, he took your rejection nicely, but what bothered Satoru was the fact that he was standing right there. Did he not look enough like your boyfriend? Was he not clearly holding your shopping bags?
He also gave the man a superficial smile, bringing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him. "You're too hot for the public, I should keep you inside forever," he teased, kissing your scalp.
He's really not a jealous person. He doesn't worry about anyone taking you away, but he also doesn't want anyone to forget you're his.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
Kisses everywhere, all the time. He kisses your head the most, because that's the easiest access for him, but he will and has kissed every inch of your body. He kisses you in different places in different ways for different reactions, and it's all entirely dependent on both of your moods. Trying to cheer you up? A quick peck on the cheek, accompanied by a goofy grin. snuggled up in bed, spooning? a couple kisses on your arm, or little smooches below and slightly behind your ear. I could make a chart of all the kisses and what they mean.
Personally, he likes kisses from you most when he needs them. Nothing eases him better than resting his head on your shoulder as you plant gentle kisses to his forehead. All kisses are loved equally by him, but if he had to pick one kind...those would be it. He couldn't live without them.
You stood in front of the mirror for a moment, frowning slightly as you took a glance at yourself. You didn't feel the most confident today. With a sigh, you moved on, walking back into the bedroom. Satoru saw all of this and knew exactly what was going on, crazy considering the moment lasted all of 3 seconds, and he made his way over to you.
He stood right in front of you, blocking you from your path.
"What're you doing," you ask, laughing a little as he looked down at you curiously.
He smiled, taking your hand by the ends of your fingers, bringing it up to his face as he said, "Nothing..."
He planted a long kiss to your knuckles, giving you those bedroom eyes that made your stomach flutter. "Just admiring you~"
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
He finds Little ones entertaining as hell, but as I said before, he wouldn't want one at home. That said, there are some pros and cons to Satoru being around children.
First of all, god forbid they play something competitive because Satoru Gojo isn't taking an L from a 6 year old, that's for sure. tag, hide and seek, pinball, Mario kart, he's crushing spirits in all of them.
Another thing, he treats kids like they're little adults, which is great from a respect standpoint, but not so great when they talk shit. He does not care if he hurts a kid's feelings if they say something rude.
"My mom says you're a Psychopath," the 10 year old says, grinning.
"Yeah? Well my mom says you suck, and also you're bad at math," Satoru says, sticking his tongue out.
On a similar note of taking children too seriously, playing pretend is an art form to him. A friend's kid wants to play magical fairy princesses? He IS a magical fairy princess. His name is Vanessa and he has a magic wand made of glitter and dreams.
Yeah, he thinks kids are the best from an entertainment standpoint, but he knows he's not responsible enough to have any...at least not yet.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
He's a morning person to his core, not because he needs to be super efficient and get a ton done, but because he just wakes up early and can't take the time to fall back asleep, especially when you're right next to him. Why try and sleep when he could pick on you?
If you're a morning person like him, you probably wake up around the same time, and get ready for the day together. Washing up, getting dressed, eating. If you're into working out, you two go on little work out morning dates.
If you're a night owl, he will pester the hell out of you until you do, kissing your neck and mumbling in your ear and flipping you around in all different directions. If your willpower is strong, and you don't get out of bed, he will first snap a ton of photos of you before getting up himself and getting his day started.
It depends on what time you wake up, but you could find that the apartment is empty from him going to work out, or full with the sound of him simply living. You usually find breakfast made for you, all 5 food groups, sometimes you eat together sometimes you don't get the chance to.
"Had to go to work early, you're hot
love,
Your Perfect Boyfriend"
That note was placed neatly over a little metal box, the contents being a warm waffle with chocolate sauce and berries. The sauce still had it's structure despite sitting in a metal container with a hot waffle, meaning he just left.
Damn it...he is perfect.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Every night with Satoru is different, It all depends on how both of your days went. If work was especially hard for either of you, the night would consist of at home activities, like playing videogames or watching a movie.
If you both had a bit of an easier day, especially over the weekend, you went on dates, and that could be anything. It ranged from going to a park and walking around, from going to a Michelin star restaurant and eating something deconstructed.
Of course, no matter what it was, dessert was happening at a place that was made for dessert. Patisseries, Ice creameries, cookie shops, whatever it was, it was always a part of the date.
"You're so gorgeous," Satoru sighed dreamily, resting his chin on his hand.
"Well you're gorgeous too," You laughed, looking up at him. "Although, I do think I can do better than sweats," you said, looking down at yourself.
You both were sitting on the couch, waiting for Mario Kart to boot up as you ate some gelato Satoru stocked up on during his trip to Italy.
"Nahhhh. 'S perfect."
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
You still don't know everything about him. After so many years, friends to best friends to lovers, he still hasn't told you everything. You can probably think of one time he's been open with you, after going out and getting drinks with the usually sober Satoru. You remember having to cut yourself off early in order to care for him, calling the night and taking him home.
He ended up sat on the floor, back to the wall as he was wheezing at how the word "company" sounded like it started with a different word, his head on your shoulder.
After he calmed down, he said, "Y'know, I don't deserve you," he laughed, smiling at you with a red face.
"What're you talking about," you said with a nervous chuckle. "You do..."
"No, nonononono, 's ok, I don't," He said hurriedly, putting his hand on your shoulder. "I mean, you're actually too good for me," he slurred, looking into your eyes.
"What do you mean? what makes you so 'unworthy'?"
"Mmnnnnnn...have you killed someone?" He got all serious, nose to nose with you, before whispering, "I did...It wasn't fun, but I hadta..."
He sounded sheepish, like he was scared. Gojo Satoru was scared.
You weren't as upset as you could have been, being a sorcerer meant you understood having to take...drastic measures. After light encouragement, you managed to get most of the story out...er, stories, plural. He has a checkered past, and while you're pretty sure he doesn't remember that conversation, you want him to feel like you can listen, and any time he wants to open up again, you'll be more than ready to.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He has optional patience. He's not going to wait in a line without some sort of entertainment for longer than 5 minutes, but he also is willing to work tirelessly for years and years to reach a goal. He just can't stand doing nothing, he needs to be doing something always.
Now, if it came to anger, he has the patience of a saint. When you get to the level of power he has, getting angry over something below the injury of loved one just felt stupid to him. Now, if you get into a fight, he does get worked up (obviously), but he doesn't get mad so much as frustrated.
"Ah, shit," he sighed, sounding nothing more than peeved. You glanced over, eyes widening as you saw his piping hot coffee not in his mug, but in his lap.
"D...Doesn't that...hurt?"
"Me? Nah," He says, standing to go change.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He's weird because he pretends like he knows nothing, but it seems like he truly knows everything. If you challenged him to some game where you quiz him on the things he knows about you, he's walking away with first place. He just likes listening to you talk about your interests. You told him about your favorite show 3 years ago and he remembers the entire plot, but...
"Hey, have you heard about [enter show here]?" He was sitting on the couch, remote in hand.
"Oh, yeah! God, I used to love that show," you said excitedly, walking over and sitting next to him.
"Yeah? What's it about?" He's so in love with you.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
His favorite moment is when he realized he's in love in you. He remembers the day clearly, you two were messing around with some weak curses, or at least weak to you, and he noticed then that you could keep up with him.
YOU could keep up with HIM.
It's not like he thought you were weak or anything, he just couldn't believe that there was another on his level. It's lonely at the top, and he came to terms with that, but the idea that he could have someone joining him was kind of mind blowing.
Maybe this wasn't when he realized he loved you, but it was when he realized he was allowed to.
"What," you ask him, laughing a little as you land a deadly blow on a curse before he could. He was just staring at you, a mixture of curiosity and adoration on his face.
He just turned and smiled, laughing a little to himself. "Nothin'..."
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He knows you don't need him to protect you, and for the most part he rather enjoys that, but he will get defensive over you when it comes to the slander of your name. Physically, you can handle yourself, and he knows that if someone were to be rude to you directly, you could handle yourself, but when someone is talking about you when you're not around, you can't defend yourself. That's where he comes in, your very own security guard.
He's not normally an aggressive person, you don't really like that side of him, and so if you're not there to see it, it's like it never happened.
"(Y/N)? Ugh, I hate that class...yeah, exactly! Right, sooo annoying... I just can't stand- Exactly...! And always getting of track..."
A girl on the phone, a brand new student at the Kyoto Sister school where you worked. Satoru was visiting to eat lunch with you. Lucky him, to over hear something like this.
He catches up to her, only needing to take a couple long steps.
"Oh! Are you a student of (Y/N)," he asks cheerfully. She was immediately weak in the knees, it was inevitable given his looks and status.
"Uhhhhh, yeah! Sir!" Meanwhile, her friend on the other line kept saying, "Is that Gojo Satoru? Are you talking to Gojo Satoru?!"
"I know (Y/N), actually," He said, looking down at the girl with a smile, the angry glare in his eyes hidden behind his mask.
"Really," she asks absently, before looking between him and the phone in realization. "W- uh, I was just-"
"What's your name?" The two of them stopped walking, Satoru's cheerful tone taking an underpainting of malice.
"uhm...A-Ayako..."
"Ayako..." He repeats, committing the name to memory.
"You don't go here anymore, Okay Ayako?"
Her jaw drops, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in his words.
"You...You can't- I didn't- That's not fair and-"
"Yeahhhh, it sucks, huh? you just weren't Jujutsu High material, sorry," he says apathetically, perhaps even joyfully, walking off to eat lunch with the love of his life.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He doesn't try because doing things for you is effortless for him. I went into dates a lot in M and N, so I won't be touching on that so much here.
Anniversaries are always filled with gifts and outings, so much so that you feel inadequate trying to provide for him in that area. You could get him tons of seemingly perfect gifts, and yet somehow he still outdid you. He didn't mean to (mostly), he just really loved you and loved showing that.
To top it off, his reactions to your gifts aren't really all that grandiose. He tries, but you can tell it's feigned.
"Open it," you say excitedly, smiling wide as you hand him a black box. You were both sitting on the couch, it was his nary celebrated birthday, at least before you.
He sets the box on the coffee table before him and does so, inside a bottle of high end cologne.
"Wow," he says coolly, opening it and giving it a whiff. "Smells good," he muses sweetly, giving you a smile.
You groan, hanging your head with a wry laugh. "If you don't like it we can get it replaced," you sigh, smiling with some dissapointment.
"I do like it," he exclaims, moving to your side to comfort you with concern. "See, I'm gonna wear it, watch," he says, spritzing it on.
You laugh, he was so adorable.
Truly, he loves your gifts and puts them to use, but what really excites him is simply being with you. He likes taking the time to just be normal with you, or as close to normal as you guys can get.
He likes buying you stuff daily, small things like candy or some new lipstick, he just sees it and thinks of you. As I said before, he doesn't really try all that hard, he almost never has, and that's what's so great for him.
He used to worry about if he'd be able to even show his love for someone if he ever found himself in the situation, and to see that he's getting the message across with little strain is exciting to him.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
What. A. Flake. You can never tell if he's going to turn up to important events, and if he does he's always late. The thing is, when he really cares he shows up punctually, which means he has the capability to be reliable. There have definitely been more meetings than you can count where you've had to cover for him, as well as fights he's been late for because he wants to make a grand entrance.
"where have you been," you chide in a hushed tone, watching as he casually plops down next to you. "I had to tell them you were having an emergency," you scoff, pinching his arm.
"You did?" He looks at the annoyed expressions of his bosses and coworkers, cocking his head slightly with a sly grin. "Yeah, no, I wasn't, just didn't feel like coming," he admits carelessly, shrugging. Idiot.
Relationship wise, he's had some issues with respect. He sometimes treats you and your issues like they're unimportant, and maybe they are, but dammit they're important to you! He got better about this eventually, but not after tons of hardheaded arguments about this ugly trait.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
if I had to pick one word to describe Satoru...well, it'd be cocky, but if I had to pick another it'd be effortless. He doesn't take concern with his looks because he needs to do nothing to look so good. That's just how he is, and he knows it. He places some amount of value in his appearance, but overall he's not too vain. He has confidence, is all.
"Man, You sure are lucky to have such a hot boyfriend," Satoru sighs sarcastically, teasing his hair in the mirror while you put on your shoes.
"Yeah? You sayin' I couldn't get one normally," you ask tauntingly, raising your brows.
"Hey..." he says, knowing he had fallen into a trap.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
He wants so dearly to not need you, but he knows he does. He knows he just might break if he loses you. You're his other half, you make him whole. A break up, he could handle, because there was still the hope of having you back, but if you died...
I can't write an example of this, I can't do it justice. The pain, the absolute and ineffable pain of losing yet another of the few people he got close to would eat him away until there's nothing left, and you just can't put that, in all of its horrific beauty, in simple words.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
a little something xtra for you...He loves his mask and sunglasses for the extra benefit of not being exposed for staring at you. His eyes are constantly on you, figuratively or literally, and if he were anyone else he wouldn't be able to take down his enemies with you there because of how distracted he would be. He was him, though, and he could very much multitask. He also has a habit of flirting or messing with you during meetings, taking down curses, training, really at any time.
Satoru, on the other side of the meeting table, was stretched out, arms behind his head. His foot was touching yours, it was kind of cute in a way.
Then, he nudged your ankle a little, and you looked over at him with curiosity. He didn't look at you, keeping his eyes on who was speaking. You nudged him back, and he smiled, which means he did that on purpose.
He nudges you, you nudge him.
Then the nudging becomes playful kicking.
Then the playful kicking becomes competitive kicking.
Then the competitive kicking becomes getting scolded by both of the headmasters.
His grin never leaves his face.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
First of all, greek yoghurt pisses him off. Yoghurt should be sweet and frozen, and nothing else. Give him greek yoghurt, god forbid he takes a bite because the unpleasant surprise will lead to half an hour of talking about how horrible it is. Yuck.
More seriously, he doesn't like people who think they're better than they are. He deals with them frequently, in the form of stupid curses trying to take him on, and he takes pleasure in putting them in their place.
He's of the mind that He earned being cocky, because he's actually just that powerful and good at everything, and therefore anyone else that's cocky has to earn it too.
when it comes to humans he can't eradicate, he simply shows off his power with as much leisure as possible, just to prove he's a million times better than the offending.
"Guess what," Satoru says on the phone, his smile audible.
'What," you ask cheerfully, knowing a good story was coming, or at least one he thinks is good.
"So I was fighting this curse, right?"
"Right..."
"Well, it was already annoying because it was stupidly weak, but it still came after me, and this thing..."
He kept talking, going on and on about how weak and annoying the thing was, and you simply smiled as you listened. Adorable.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He's a complete bed hog, he takes up all the space you give him. He starfishes out, snoring like a vacuum cleaner, and when he's not doing that he's tossing and turning.
The only remedy for this was, surprisingly, getting closer. If you sleep next to him, he can't sprawl out. If you sleep holding onto his arm, his limbs on that side of his body are still for the rest of the night. If you lay with your head on his chest, making sure you fall asleep with his arms around you...all of him stays still and in one spot. A couple other poses work for this too, spooning of any kind, a honeymoon hug, things where you're practically fused together.
Summer is a hard time for you two.
Another thing he does is mumble in his sleep. It's nothing too crazy, most of the time unintelligible, but every once in a while you can hear some keywords. You've found that whatever's most prominent in his life at the time is what he talks about. You don't really get any insight to how his mind works or anything, it's just a cute habit of his.
"Mmmn...Zzz...donrelgtothedohmvie...."
You smile, letting out a little puff of laughter from your nose as you strain to hear him.
"Yogottabkddngmbaby...."
Baby! That was a word.
You tried listening in for more, but you really heard nothing else...nothing else, of course, besides your name.
Ok, this took my like a month, which is wayyy longer than my usual stuff.
and, if we're being honest...
ᴵ ᴴᶦᵗ ¹⁰⁰ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ² ʷᵉᵉᵏˢ ᵃᵍᵒ
but I'm only a few over so it still counts!? Love you, get ready for the next thing, and Let me know how this was and if you agree or disagree with my headcannons!
#fanfic#fan fiction#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#gojou satoru x reader#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk satoru#satorugojo#jujutsu satoru#gojo
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I need interactions between Feyd and her grownup daughter.
In the original story Ghanima has a concubine in addition to her brother husband (in name only, but still). I wonder what the Harkonnen Princess’s love life/sex life/married life would be and how Feyd behaves in all that
I think Feyd would have exactly one weakness — his daughter. (I’m naming her Annora because it means honor and because I can. Also, as preference, a whipping boy was used in early Europe. They were tutored alongside a prince or noble and instead of the prince being punished for his transgressions, the whipping boy would be punished in front of him)
Annora is his only daughter out of eleven sons. She can do no wrong in his eyes. As a child, she was elected a “whipping boy” to receive her punishments because Feyd could never imagine hurting her. But this only taught her to be cunning and secretive with her less desirable behaviors, which translated into an adult na-Baroness who is extremely pampered and goes to any lengths necessary to get what she wants and avoid her father’s (selective) wrath.
You see, unfortunately, Annora has fallen for her whipping boy. What should’ve made them enemies only made them closer, a childhood friendship blossoming into something more.
Her brother knows this well.
They’re forced into a marriage together, in title only, and he does his best to protect his sister’s secret. Feyd-Rautha would never allow his precious daughter to be with him, the whipping boy, someone lowly and of poor status. So Annora fields a large array of concubines to keep up the facade for her father, some in which she indulges (she is a creature of pleasure like her father) but none who satisfy her like her lover.
I think Feyd would be fine with his daughter having concubines and torrid affairs — she is married to her brother, after all, and he knows the perils of inter-family relationships. But he absolutely loses it when he accidentally discovers Annora engaged with the whipping boy, who he thought his daughter kept around for nostalgia sake. He appointed the whipping boy because he was a child from a slave couple, unimportant and certainly not good enough for Annora.
“Why do you shame me?” Feyd hisses at his daughter, pulling her away as she fumbles to lace up her dress. He leaves the whipping boy to be dealt with later.
Annora, twice as fierce as her father and just as stubborn, says, “You don’t know anything.”
“You take up with that…with that rat?” Feyd sneers. More than anything he is concerned for his daughter, for her reputation and her heart, the future life that the whipping boy would give her. If anyone would find out…
“He’s not a rat,” Annora bites back. Her hands form into fists at her side, single braid swaying as she shakes her head in disbelief. “He’s been there for me through everything. He loves me for me, not for my status or my power or my money like all the others.”
Feyd snorts. “He loves you because you have kept me from slaughtering him like a lamb.”
“You put him in my life.”
Feyd tightens his grip on her arm. “Because I could not bear to harm you. Do you understand that? I cannot stand the thought of —” his voice breaks, flushed with emotion. Feyd clamps his mouth shut in order to fend it off. When he speaks again, his face has taken on a softened expression. “He will hurt you, Annora.”
“He’s never hurt me,” Annora breathes, touched by her father’s rare display of vulnerability, however fleeting it might’ve been.
“He will.”
“He won’t.”
Feyd’s brow, looking far more wrinkled than Annora remembers it being, furrows. “Men are liars and beasts, I know this well. How can you separate him from them?”
“You must get to know him,” Annora says. Her eyes shine with regret. “Aside from how he looks when you strike him.”
Feyd does not give in to this obvious attempt at making him feel guilty. He has no qualms about harming the boy over his own daughter. He considers this. “Fine. Invite him to dinner tomorrow and we shall…talk.”
I think I’ll leave the rest up to your own discretion😜 Does it go well?? Poorly?? Tell me what you think
#feyd rautha#dune#feyd rautha harkonnen#feyd rautha headcanons#family fued#Keeping Up with the Harkonnens
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mayprompts2024, #21 fire
White Pony Tattoo - Part Two (Fire)
“What? You, how…” John struggled for words. “This is impossible!” He is impossible!
“To a lesser mind maybe. To me, it’s obvious.” Sherlock shrugged, a bored expression on his face.
Now this is unbelievable. How can he be so dismissive and haughty?
John remembered that a lot of people who had rated this shop on the internet had called Sherlock a brilliant tattoo artist but personality-wise a total arsehole.
Guess they have been spot-on, John thought.
“This is terribly rude, you know?” John’s temper rose quickly. Since he had nothing left to lose, having been rejected already, John added for good measure, “Has anybody ever told you that you’re an utter dick?”
John faced Sherlock’s piercing stare with blazing eyes. His mouth was set into a fierce line as if John was about to jump head-first into battle, hands clenched.
John had expected that Sherlock would get insulted and just throw him out, but no, something completely different and unexpected happened.
Sherlock laughed.
Genuinely and heartily and actually enjoying the verbal attack.
“Now and then, yes.”
Sherlock’s bored face transformed into one shining with mirth, laugh lines had formed and his stunning eyes had changed their colour into a sunny blue green hue.
“Ah, yes. Here appears the soldier, finally.” Sherlock nodded appreciatively.
John was dumbfounded by Sherlock’s uncanny knowledge about him. How does he do this?
Sherlock stepped around the wooden counter and circled once around John, evaluating every inch of his body like a predator might scrutinize its prey for suitabilty to be devoured.
Unconsciously, John assumed a military stance and that earned him a raised eye brow by Sherlock.
“You’re not cowed.” Sherlock stated. “Good. I love the feisty clients.”
John’s skin shivered from alternating waves of cold and heat, being under Sherlock’s renewed hyper-attention. Something grew inside of him and reached out like a flower stretching towards the sun.
Yet, John refused to feel intimidated, so he raised his chin and fixed his eyes on Sherlock’s, locking them in a visual chokehold.
“Am I now?” John inquired, voice steady just as his hand. “A client? Not boring anymore?”
“Wrong. Twice.” Sherlock clicked his tongue. “Still not a client and I’m still not covering up your awful Virgin Mary tattoo with a boring soldier in full combat gear.”
John was speechless. Again. And hated it. He cannot know this!
John stared at Sherlock, watching him move with the lithe fluidity and enviable grace of a ballet dancer towards a light switch at the wall. Or was it the hidden strength of a prowling jaguar?
John had the distinctive suspicion that Sherlock did this on purpose. He was putting up a show for him. Anyway, the sight was something to behold.
The cozy dimness disappeared when the shop was bathed in harsh white light from a large panel on the ceiling. It shortly hurt John’s eyes and made him blink. The light left no room for vagueness and painted everything in stark contrast and highlighted every angle.
The planes of Sherlock’s angular face now looked like being carved out of Carrara marble and reminded John of Michelangelo’s famous “David” statue.
For the first time since he met the artist, John realized that Sherlock wore a purple dress shirt in the exact same colour as the curtain behind him. The shirt was very tight and hugged Sherlock’s slim but muscular chest like a second skin. It had to be bespoke since there were no wrinkles marring the expensive silk fabric.
Sherlock had left the upper two buttons undone and John caught a glimpse of white smooth skin and the beginning lines of an intricate black tattoo, beguiling and seductive like a promise to explore more. What image might be hidden under there?
Apart from these lines, John saw no other tattoos but Sherlock wore long sleeves that were held together by silver cufflinks in the form a tattoo gun.
Sherlock’s rumbling voice tore John out of these most pleasant musings.
“I offer you a phoenix, rising from the fire. The mystical bird that dies in the flames only to rise again, renewed and stronger than before. This really befits you and your personal resurrection story, don’t you think?”
John swallowed. Is he a mind reader?
“If you accept my offer come back in two days, 2 PM sharp. Now go, my next client arrives in five minutes.” Sherlock made a shooing motion with slender beringed fingers on his dextrous artist’s hand. “You may leave now.”
Shaken and not quite sure was it was that had just happened to him, John found himself back in the pavement in front of the tattoo shop.
Of course, John would come back. He did not have to think about returning to White Pony Tattoo for one single second.
+++++
tagging some people @calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @peageetibbs @lisbeth-kk @raina-at
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just when i thought bingchan finally left us in peace this bitch is back oh MY GOD LEAVE US ALONE DEAR LORD
at least sisu and tantai jin had their first adult conversation finally BITCH YOU LOVE HIM
#episode 33#till the end of the moon#also can we just take a min and process how FUCKING HOT tantai jin is cause every frame that has his face makes me want to pause and look#luo yunxi is such an excellent actor with SUCH AN EXPRESSIVE FACE OH MY GOD#i pause just to process his eye movements#what he does with his brows and his mouth#i am fully enchanted this man will be the death of me#AH ALSO HE CRIES ALL THE TIME WHICH IS MY SOFT SPOT#I love watching hot men cry#if this drama doesn't have a happy ending i will lose my shit so hard
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"MINE, MINE, MINE."
pairing: alpha!geto x omega!fem!reader
summary: your doctor won’t refill your prescription until you’ve reset your cycle. you’re desperate for that refill, but geto’s not having it.
content: MDNI (18+ ONLY), a/b/o dynamics, nsfw, dubcon? (reader doesn’t want a heat but it’s medically necessary (LMAO what)), established relationship, unprotected sex, breeding, praise, pet names, knotting, slight manipulation, dacryphilia, somnophilia, spit, blood, oral (fem!receiving), so much licking and smelling?, geto and reader are just downright feral LMAO, lmk if i missed anything.
a/n: have y’all figured out that i have a breeding kink yet… anyway, this is the first a/b/o fic that i’ve ever written but i just read one and was feeling *inspired*. if people want i might do a prequel sort of thing for this that goes more in-depth about how they met and stuff. lmk! also, i have a vampire gojo fic planned hehe get ready bbs. if you want more of my omegaverse fics check out my alpha!gojo fic here! and remember, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED! divider credit to: @cafekitsune
wc: 5.2k
“No.”
No? You shift in your seat, cold and plastic, sure you must have heard him wrong.
“I’m sorry?” you ask. You press your tongue to the roof of your mouth, an anxious habit.
“I can’t refill the prescription. I’m sorry, but, frankly, it would be completely irresponsible of me to do so. I’m shocked your previous physician prescribed them for so long.” Fingers find yours and twine them together. Your eyes flash to Geto, but he’s only staring at your new doctor, staring with that furrow in his brow he only gets when he’s worried.
Your new, soon-to-be old, doctor sighs again, running a hand through his thinning white hair. “You need to have a heat as soon as possible, allow your body to recalibrate. Indefinite use of suppressants is dangerous and unhealthy. They are meant to manage your cycles, not stop them altogether.”
Sweat beads on your palms. He can’t be serious. But it’s his first opinion. Surely there’s another option.
“I-I’m sorry, doctor. I don’t think I’m understanding.”
Another glance at Geto reveals that he’s frowning now. When his eyes find yours you see the decision there, one he’s already made without you. Your stomach drops.
The doctor sighs and suddenly the walls of the office feel small, tight, suffocating. The twinge of alcohol and chemicals in the air makes your nose scrunch. “Let me say this clearly. I will not refill your prescription for suppressants, nor will any other reputable physician. You have been taking them continuously for far too long. You risk permanent damage should you delay a proper cycle any longer.” The doctor glances to Geto, then back to you. “Go home with your alpha and allow nature to take its course. It’s what’s best.”
Your eyes widen with realization– you are not leaving this office with what you came for. Your heart pounds and your palms sweat. “Th-that can’t happen, doctor. I need my suppressants. My job- I can’t be out that long a-and Geto can’t either, we–”
“We will go home,” Geto interrupts, and his tone is final. “Thank you, doctor, for the advice.”
Geto pulls you to your feet, gently but firmly. He leaves no question about the fact that you’re leaving. You can feel the intensity radiating off him in waves. You ignore it. You turn to your new doctor, silently smiting him. Why did your old one have to retire?
“Doctor, you don’t underst–”
“Thank you again,” Geto interrupts.
Before you can make another sound, another protest, Geto pulls you through the door, out of the office, and back to the car. He opens the door for you, as he always does, except this time you’re not so eager to accept his chivalry.
“Suguru,” you bite out. His eyes meet yours, but they are surprisingly gentle. So calm. How is he always calm?
“Just get in, baby. We’ll talk about it in the car.”
You debate saying no, but you can’t bring yourself to start a fight when he’s being so good. You grumble when you climb in, buckling your seatbelt before Geto can do it for you.
The engine revs to life, but you hardly notice. You’re already scrolling your phone, the search bar reading a simple and straightforward “doctors offices near me”. You scroll right past the first ten, for once in your life wanting a doctor that’s a little sketchy. You scroll further– still not sketchy enough. Someone who’ll give you the prescription you need, even if it’s not necessarily… ethical. Or maybe you could get some on the street? Surely there was some kind of dealing ring for that. There was a dealing ring for everything, right?
“What are you doing?” His voice is soft, but his fingers are tight around the steering wheel, skin stretched tight across his knuckles.
You lift your phone to your ear, dialing the first office that looked relatively shitty enough. “Getting a second opinion,” you answer.
Suguru plucks the phone so swiftly from your fingers that you hardly even notice it’s gone. You see him end the call and slip it into his back pocket, out of your reach.
“Hey!” You scramble across the center console, hopelessly grabbing at your lost phone, your last hope.
Suguru grabs your wrist, restraining you far too easily for your liking. “You’re not getting it back,” he says. His eyes never leave the road.
Your brows pinch and anger boils in your stomach. “This is not for you to decide. It’s my body.”
He glances at you, unconcerned. Still calm. “And you’re not in a headspace to be making a responsible decision about it, so I’m making it for you.”
Your jaw drops and you pry your wrist free of his grasp. You escape, but you know it’s only because he allows it. “I am of perfectly sound mind, thank you.”
He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re blinded by desperation.”
“It’s still not for you to decide!” When you don’t notice any change in his expression, you switch tactics– from anger to honesty. You let your face fall, let your true feelings creep through. “You know how much I hate it, Su.”
Finally, he cracks. It’s instantaneous, the way he melts for you- the way the soft smile finds his lips and his hand finds yours, twining your fingers together. “I know, but you have to, baby. You heard the doctor.”
You clench your jaw and avoid the sting of tears behind your eyes. You had heard the doctor, but you weren’t ready. Maybe next month, when you’d had more time to mentally prepare.
Your skin crawled. You hated it, hated this. You hadn’t had a heat in years, avoiding them like the plague. You hated how vulnerable they made you, how they put you at the mercy of another. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Suguru– you did. You trusted him more than anyone, anything, but you still hated the feeling of being so completely helpless, so completely out of control, even if it was Suguru you were submitting to.
For most of your life, you’d successfully hidden your omega status. With the help of suppressants, you’d passed as a beta until your early twenties. Then you met Geto.
You’d met at work. He was cute, beautiful even, you’d thought, but he screamed alpha– and alphas could be dangerous, especially for hiding, unclaimed omegas like you. You’d stayed away as long as you could and, for a while, you were quite successful. You avoided him in the halls, sat at the opposite end of the table in meetings, replied to emails succinctly but politely. All was well until you’d been trapped in an elevator with him one morning, biting your lip anxiously as you waited to reach the twelfth floor. He’d smelled so good that day, perhaps due to an oncoming rut. You hadn’t been able to resist inching closer, taking deeper breaths. Suguru would later tell you that he’d suspected your hidden status, but he had no reason to question you. At least, not until he had you up against the elevator wall with his face buried in your neck. One deep whiff was all he’d needed to know exactly what you were, even with suppressants in your system.
You’d dated for a little over a year, until you’d decided he was the one. Your fingers dust over the mate mark on your throat, the one that had not only made you undoubtedly Suguru’s, but also the one that had revealed to the world exactly what you were. There was no hiding your true identity with an alpha’s scarred mark on your neck.
Suguru had never seen you through a heat– no one had. You’d taken your suppressants daily, ever since you met him and even long before that. He’d claimed you on a day like any other, no heat necessary. He hadn’t had a rut in all these years, either. When he felt one coming on all he had to do was pop a single pill and all was well– apparently with none of the nasty side effects that came along with your suppressants. Another unfair privilege of being an alpha you supposed.
“Sugu, I can’t do this.” Your lip is raw from how much you’ve been chewing on it by the time you reach home.
Suguru softly shuts the door behind you, lifting your twined hands to his lips, gently kissing your knuckles.
“Yes you can. I know you can.”
You shake your head. He doesn’t understand– doesn’t know what this will do to you, how it will break you. While you hadn’t had a heat in years, you had experienced them before. You loathed them more than anything, loathed the way your mind was a slave to your body and not the other way around, loathed the way your whole body pulsed and throbbed, loathed the way it made you feel so… weak. “I can’t. It’s-it’s-” Your hands come up to cover your face. You sigh and feel the blush crawling beneath your cheeks. “It’s embarrassing. Humiliating.”
There’s silence for a moment, and then a soft sight. Suguru pries your hands from your face gently. When you meet his eyes, he’s all business.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, baby.”
You shake your head and pull away, pacing. “I don’t want anyone to see me like that, Sugu. Not even you.”
Strong hands catch your waist, holding you still. “It’s not a question. It’s happening– for the sake of your health.”
You scoff and shake your head. “It’s not–”
His thumb presses to your lips with just enough pressure to demand silence. The omega in you coos to listen, to submit– the other part of you reels with annoyance.
“End of discussion.”
He’s closer now and you can feel waves of his breath skating across your skin. It’s like a drug, one that the primal side of you can never get enough of. Give in, give in, give in, your omega begs. Listen to your alpha… You try not to focus on the fact that he smells good enough to eat. You know what he’s doing– using his dynamic to persuade you, to make you see his way, playing to the omega you can usually hide so carefully.
“Sugu…” you say. You intend to be angry but you trail off when his eyes catch yours.
“I got you, baby.”
Your heart melts at the words. He waits. Maybe he knows that the smell of his skin on yours is playing tricks on your mind. You wage a battle within. Every instinct urges you to agree and with every passing second it becomes harder to disagree. Perhaps he’s right, perhaps it's time you give in for once. Let him take care of you, your omega purrs. You’re nodding before you realize what you’ve done.
Suguru kisses you quickly, allowing no time for takebacks. When he pulls away he gets to work. He whips his phone from his pocket and you listen to him talking to his boss, your boss, saying that you’ll both be out of work for a week on “family” leave. Your face heats when you realize that your boss now knows exactly what you two are going to be doing for the foreseeable future. Suguru kisses you one last time before he’s out the door, off to get enough food and supplies to last a week. You won’t be leaving your apartment for some time. You don't fail to notice that he doesn’t return your phone before he’s gone.
~
You don’t notice a difference, even after the sun is gone. It’s not surprising, considering you usually take your suppressants at night– it’ll take a little while longer for them to fully exit your system… you hope. When you’re brushing your teeth you stare at the empty prescription bottle longingly.
You join Suguru in bed. The moment you crawl onto the mattress he pulls you closer into his bare chest. You savor the way your bodies fit so perfectly- like he was meant for you and you alone. His front curls around your back, a leg slotted between your thighs.
“Feel anything?” he asks.
You shake your head to hide your swallow. You almost shiver when Suguru buries himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. You feel him harden against your backside. He must be able to smell your approaching heat even before you can. Part of you expects instinct to take hold of him, for him to make a move, but he only presses a kiss to your jaw and holds you tighter.
“Sleep, baby.”
For once, you follow orders without a fight.
–
Hot. Too hot.
When your eyes flutter open, you feel the pounding of your heart, the labor of your breath, and the growing ache between your legs.
You sit up so fast you see stars, panic flooding your veins. No, no, no, no, no. This was wrong, you’d made the wrong choice. You couldn’t do this. Already, you could feel control slipping from your grasp, your consciousness giving way to something more primal, more feral. You scramble, preparing to stand, to find your phone, to lock yourself away and suffer through this on your own.
“Deep breaths, baby.”
Only then do you realize Suguru is already awake. He’s behind you, hands on your shoulders, both a comfort and a restraint.
“Can’t-” Your breaths are ragged and so are your words. “Can’t do this, Sugu-”
“Yes, you can.” He whispers. He pulls you closer, tighter against him. “You will.”
You shake your head frantically, tears pooling on your lashes. When you turn, Suguru is staring at your neck, at the mate mark on your throbbing pulse. His jaw is clenched when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. He’s restraining himself, you realize. A glance down reveals he’s already painfully hard in his pants. You wonder how long he’s been sitting there, taking in your scent, waiting for you to wake. No doubt his rut has already been triggered.
His eyes raise to yours and he pauses at the tears that leak down your cheeks. He leans closer, and the scent emanating from his neck makes you groan against your will. His kisses away the tears. Slowly, one at a time.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he whispers. “I’ve got you.”
Your body pulls him closer, even as your mind pushes back. “My phone, Sugu,” you panic. “Gotta gimme my phone. C-call a new doctor.”
He shakes his head and when you start to squirm he only holds you tighter, holds you in place.
“No, baby.”
You whimper, seeking the scent gland on his neck against your will. The smell makes your clit throb almost painfully.
“Sugu, please,” you cry. Tears stream from your eyes, staining your lover’s skin.
“‘S gonna be okay. Just let it happen. Don’t fight it, love.”
With each passing moment, you feel your fight slipping further and further away. Suguru rubs at the muscles in your back until you’re slumped against him, pitifully moaning like a wounded animal. It’s not long before your body takes the reins, until you start desperately humping at his thigh, your clit throbbing almost painfully.
“That’s it. Good girl.”
Your eyes roll back at the praise and when Suguru grips your waist you cry out at the touch. Everywhere his skin meets yours feels electric. You’re burning, burning, burning. It’s not until Suguru lays you down on your back that you see the sopping patch of slick you’ve left on his thigh. You whimper at the sight.
“‘S okay, baby. ‘Ve got you.”
Suguru is looking nearly as lost to the lust as you are. Only his willpower and intent keep him from shredding away your panties and breeding your cunt full that very second. He’s never been in the presence of a scent so intoxicating. He’s never been with you, or any omega, through a heat. He thought you smelled amazing before, but now… He is lost to you, lost to the heat he feels emanating from every inch of your skin, to the honeyed scent pouring from your neck, to the slick he sees staining through your panties. His dick twitches in his pants.
“Love you so much, baby. Gonna take such good care of ya,” he whispers. Instinct drives him forward until he’s plastered his lips to your jaw, licking and biting at the skin. You nearly scream at the sensation. You feel his touch everywhere, all at once. With your last coherent thoughts you know that this heat will be unlike any other you’ve ever experienced. It’s already so intense you can hardly think, and you’ve only just begun.
“Sugu,” you plead.
The sound of his name on your lips breaks him. His hand dips across your stomach, thumbing past the edge of your panties until he’s running his finger through your slit, gathering your slick and rubbing it against your clit.
You scream and thrash, so sensitive it nearly hurts, but he only moves to pin you beneath him, forcing you to take everything he gives.
“Gonna make you feel ‘s good, baby.” he hums. He’s lost to you, to your desires, to your needs. Every piece of him screams to please you, to take care of you, in every way possible.
He continues his messy circles on your clit and until you’re gasping, hole clenching around nothing, begging to be filled.
“S-Sugu…” you whine.
The growl that rips from his throat has you arching your back and bearing your throat in an act of submission. You hear a tear and watch your panties hit the floor. Your shirt follows and then you’re completely bare beneath your alpha. His eyes go black at the sight, pupils blown so wide you can hardly see a smidgen of their usual brown. There’s a deep rumble in his chest that has you keening and reaching for him, needing him. He doesn’t waste time. His tongue finds your neck, laving sloppily at your scent gland and the sensation is so delicious that you writhe beneath him.
His fingers slide down your stomach, dipping between your thighs and rubbing at your clit. The touch is somehow gentle despite the complete and total hunger in his eyes, but it has you whining nonetheless. Every place he touches you, which is nearly everywhere, stings so delightfully that your eyes are already rolling back.
But you can’t wait. You can’t. Your body is starved, rabid, and you know what you need.
“Ssssugu… please…” your words are hardly above a whisper, barely a breath, but your alpha still hears you, still knows what you want, what you need.
“I got you, baby… shhhhh…” He gives a final lick to your scent gland before he’s leaning back on his knees, parting your thighs wide, exposing your leaking cunt. You can feel a puddle of slick beneath your ass, your hole clenching desperately around nothing, aching to be filled.
Warm hands slide up your skin and settle on your hips, tugging you a little further down the bed. You whimper, but don’t have time to say anything before you feel him slipping through your folds. A glance down reveals his weeping tip, achingly flushed, bumping and rubbing against your clit. When did his pants come off? You don’t know, you don’t care, all that matters is that the sight steals your breath away.
“Gonna knot you good, princess.”
You nod, wanting nothing more than for him to make good on his promise. You claw and grip at his arms, chanting his name endlessly. His chest rumbles again and your thighs part further on instinct. Finally, he gives you what you want. You feel him pressing in, fat tip stretching you wide. One of his hands moves to press down on your tummy and the combination has tears pooling in your eyes.
He slides in slowly. With every inch you think he must be done, that you can’t take any more. But you can, and you do. When he’s finally fully in your jaw is hanging open in ecstasy and your eyes are rolled back in your skull. His fingers brush your clit and your hips jerk.
“That’s it. So good, baby. So fucking good.”
Your tears flood over, racing down your cheeks. He’s over you again, loose strands of black hair brushing your skin and forcing a whimper from your throat. He licks away your tears, lapping at your cheeks like you’re a fucking lollipop. His hips start thrusting in time with his licks, and it’s more than you can handle. Your thighs tremble and suddenly you’re begging. Pleading, whining, screaming for more. He gives it to you. One hand finds yours, twining your fingers together as he pounds into you so hard he’s rattling your skull. He’s licking at your scent gland again, driving you further and further toward a cliff you’re afraid to fall from. You think this orgasm might shatter you, might break you so thoroughly you’ll never be put back together again. You can feel it tightening at your core with each thrust, each lick, each kiss.
“Fuck,” you hear him growl and whimper at the sound of his voice so close to your ear. “‘M gonna bite you, princess. Gonna mark you up and knot you so good you’ll see fucking stars.” You pant beneath him, unable to word how excited you are by his words, how deliciously they roll across your skin and seep into your spine. “Tell me you didn’t take your pill, baby. Tell me I can breed this pussy full and it won’t go to waste.” He’s not talking about your suppressants you know, but rather the contraceptives you take in tandem with them. Of course you took it, but suddenly something makes you wish you hadn't. “‘M gonna flush ‘em down the fucking toilet. Never letting you take that shit again.”
The primal part of you surges forward at the idea. It chants deep in your mind. Yes, yes, yes…
“Suguuu… please…” It seems like those are the only words your tongue can form.
His lips press to yours, shushing you. “Shhh, baby. Don’ worry. I got you.” He licks across your cheek and down across your jaw until he finds your scent gland again. His thrusts pick up again and you think you might pass out from how good you feel, from how tight your muscles are coiling. You can feel his knot pulsing inside you, preparing to fill you to the brim. You’ve never felt more ready for anything.
“Sugu–”
And it’s at that moment that he makes good on his promise. His teeth sink into your neck and you feel your bond snap taut like a string, pulsing with the closeness of your connection. It’s pure ecstasy. Suguru’s knot swells, notching tightly inside you and when you feel his cum pulsing into your womb it’s all too much. You think you must be screaming from the pleasure but you only hear the ringing in your ears as your orgasm washes over you. Your muscles clench, your toes curl, your back arches, you see those stars Suguru promised. Heat tingles through your limbs and down your spine and you think you’ve probably just melted into the mattress. But you haven’t, and when your vision returns, you’re panting and staring at the ceiling.
Suguru is above you and you can feel him still cumming, still releasing rope after rope of thick, hot cum into you. The sensation makes you groan and he laps at your neck, cleaning up the blood from the new mark he’s just given you. Your consciousness trickles back in, the primal piece of you partially sated for the time being. You remember the context of your situation, why you’re here and not at work, what you’re doing. You’re puzzled by why you’d been so panicked by the idea of a heat before. How could you have been so reluctant, so scared, when nothing has ever felt this right?
Suguru is peppering you with kisses now, pulling you tight to his chest and rolling you both onto your sides where you’ll stay until his knot softens.
“Sleep, princess,” he says and he uses that tone that always compels you to listen, to please. You happily do as he says and when your eyes drift shut it’s not long before you’re lost to a world of comfortable darkness.
~
You wake to the throbbing again. All of the pent up need Suguru had sated has returned with a vengeance. You need him again, but it appears he already knows that.
You feel him between your legs, his hair fully loose now and tickling the insides of your thighs. He’s eating you out, slurping up the cum that’s leaking down your thighs and spitting it back onto your cunt. It’s filthy, disgusting, and you love it.
“Sugu–” you gasp and your hips buck. His eyes lock with yours and the smile he gives you nearly makes you come on the spot. He holds your gaze as he licks one last long stripe over your folds. You whimper and clench around nothing. Empty, empty, empty…
“Sorry, baby,” he whispers against your skin. He’s kissing his way up your body now, leaving little circles of spit that cool when they touch the air and make you shiver. “‘Y smelled so good…”
You whine and whimper, clawing at his back and leaving scratches you think might draw blood. You’re too worried about getting him inside of you to check.
You’re gasping like you’ve never had a breath of air in your life, like you’ve drowned and every touch he gives you fills your lungs with much-needed oxygen. His hands rub gently at your waist, but it’s not enough. You want him to wreck you, ruin you. You say as much.
“M-more…” you beg and when he hums against your neck you squirm desperately. Warm hands dig into your flesh and suddenly you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. You feel Suguru behind you, pushing your thighs apart with his knees. His hands find your hips again and lift, propping you up with your face still pressed to the pillows. When you whimper he runs a soothing hand up and down your spine.
“‘S okay, baby. Relax. Lemme take care ‘ve you.”
Yes, yes, yes, you think. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. His fingers dig into your skin, holding you still when he feeds his dick into you, one inch at a time. You cry out, tearing at the sheets and begging for more, even when you already feel like you’re splitting in half. When he’s finally seated inside you he drapes himself over your back, brushing your hair over one shoulder to expose your neck. He leans in to lick you again, thrusting sharply the moment his tongue brushes your skin. You wail, pressing your face to the sheets and attempting to rock yourself back against him. One of his hands smooths over the flesh of your ass as he sets a pace, one that makes you bite down on a pillow to muffle your screams.
“No.” Suguru uses that tone that makes you listen, that one that calls instinctively to the omega inside you, that urges you to please. He reaches for your pillow, tossing it aside and letting his hand curl around your throat as he continues to fuck you, letting his fingers feel the vibrations of every noise you make. “Let me hear you, baby. Always let me hear you.”
You nod, eager to make him happy, eager to do as he says. You don’t dare restrain a single sound, eyes rolling back. The angle he has you at has your thighs trembling. He’s so deep, so close. You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his tongue on your skin, his hand on your throat, his cock at your cervix.
When he groans, you groan with him, feeling his dick pulse inside you, his knot beginning to swell. You need it, need it so bad you can hardly stand it.
“P-please, please, please–”
He swells inside you, locking your bodies together as his orgasm hits. It’s all you need to find your own. You wail into the mattress, cunt clenching and legs trembling until you collapse, flattening against the beg. Suguru follows you down, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering in your ear.
“Take it all, baby. Good girl. Take it all…”
You nod, not even sure what you’re agreeing to. All you can feel is his cum flooding your insides, pulsing and pumping so deep into you that you swear your tummy is swelling with the sheer amount of it. Still, your body wants more, clenching and milking him for every last drop, just like he asked.
When you both come down from your orgasms he pulls you into his chest once again, whispering promises of protection and love that lull you into a trance-like state of happiness. When you fall asleep again, he’s chanting a word that your omega repeats right back to him. “Mine, mine, mine.”
When you wake again it’s to the sound of Geto staying true to his word and flushing every last birth control pill you have straight down the toilet. Your omega surges at the idea, but one mewl from you and he’s back in your arms, like you’re somehow the one in charge, not him. With every passing moment, you being to think that might be true- that perhaps a heat does not makes you as weak as you thought. Your alpha submits as much to you as you submit to him.
The week is spent in a frenzy. You do not measure by the numbers on the clock or where the sun is in the sky, rather you know time only as how long it’s been since Suguru’s been locked inside you. If it were up to you, you’d never stop, but Geto forces you to sleep, to eat, to bathe. Of course, he’s never far away when you’re following his instructions and you usually get a kiss and his knot as a reward for being such a good girl.
It’s ten days later when your heat finally starts to wane. It feels as though every inch of you is covered in him. Bites, hickies, kisses, cum… no part of you has been left untouched. Suguru has had you everywhere. The bed, the shower, the bath, the kitchen. Every surface in the whole apartment reeks of sex and slick. He never keeps you too far from the bedroom, though, where you’ve piled up mountains of his shirts and sheets. Anything that smells like him, anything that can keep you tethered in those brief moments when Suguru goes to fetch you food or water or run you a bath. He takes care of you, just like he promised.
When you wake completely clear-headed for the first time in well over a week, it’s to Suguru’s arms and lips. He’s got you all wrapped up in him, his arms locked around your waist almost like he expects you to bolt. You almost do when everything comes flooding back to you, this time with a completely clear conscience. But then he kisses your neck and whispers a delightful little, “welcome back, baby” against your neck and suddenly you’re realizing how… revitalized you feel, like a part of you has finally been properly satisfied after years of waiting. You’d always hated this, always hated the part of you that begged and cowered, hated heats- but maybe with Suguru… they really weren’t all that bad.
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link: alpha!gojo fic
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#bree’s fics#jjk#jjk smut#geto#geto suguru#jjk geto#jjk suguru#jjk x reader#geto smut#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen#geto suguru smut#getou suguru#getou x reader#suguru x reader#getou suguru x reader#suguru geto smut#jujutsu kaisen suguru#omegaverse#a/b/o#a/b/o dynamics#jujutsu geto#jjk getou#jjk omegaverse#alpha geto#omegaverse geto#omegaverse getou#cw: omegaverse#cw: a/b/o
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I DONT WANT TO HEAR A PEEP-
——-
“‘Kuna?”
“Go away.”
“Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
“I barely tolerate you as a human, you want me to tolerate you as a literal pesk?”
You jaw drops as Sukuna continues to play his game, thumbs tapping expertly on the controller as the violence breaks out on screen. He’s propped on his pillows while you’re curled into his side, the heat from his body sticky and warm as you use his chest as a pillow to thumb through your phone.
Only slightly hurt now that he’s mentioned he wouldn’t like you still.
“I bet yuuji would still like me,” you grumble.
“To be frank, I don’t really care what yuuji does.”
If he didn’t want you to see the way his jaw ticked at the mention of his brother, he did a poor job of it.
You notice it. And of course, you smirk as you sit up to prod him more.
“I bet he’d pick me up in a little leaf, carry me home and put me in a little tank,” you begin. “I bet he’d hand feed me fruit to my little mouth and make me such a happy worm.”
“Well then why don’t you go fuckin’ date yuuji then?” He snarls, motioning at the door. “Since he’d just love you so much.”
“I don’t want to date yuuji,” you pout back. “I want to date you. I love you. Even if you don’t love me-“
“For fucks sake-“ he pauses his game and, before you can ask, he flips you onto your back, straddling you and gripping your shoulders. He shakes you, and you squeal as he does.
“Yes, I’d still like you. Yes, I’d build you a stupid little cage. Yes I’d charge people to come look at you. Yes I’d feed you fruit, and yes I’d pet you every day. Yes. Yes. A million times yes, fucking let me play in peace.” With each few words, he pulls your shoulders up before slamming them back down into the bed, the springs bouncing you back into his hands.
“‘Kuna!” You giggle, your arms bending at the elbow to make minimal distance between you and your man, and despite the annoyance he wishes to convey, there’s a cheesy smile on his face, brows furrowed in focus and chest heaving from his speech and the act of bouncing you so intensely. He stops with a sigh, sitting up straight and smoothing his hair back.
“You’re such a fuckin’ nuisance,” he insults.
You smile and sit up to meet his face, cupping it in your hands to guide him into a kiss. He scoffs before ultimately leaning down to comply.
“Im your nuisance,” you mewl, giggling against his lips.
“Sadly.”
#sukuna ryomen#sukuna ryomen fluff#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader fluff#sukuna ryomen x gn!reader#sukuna ryomen imagine#sukuna ryomen jjk#sukuna#sukuna fluff#sukuna x reader#sukuna x reader fluff#sukuna x gn!reader#sukuna imagine#sukuna jjk#jjk#jjk fluff#jjk imagine#jjk x reader#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x gn!reader#jjk x reader fluff#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk x yn
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++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.
[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.
“What you did was incredibly stupid.”
“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”
“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”
“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”
“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”
“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”
“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”
“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”
“You could have bought another one.”
“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”
“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.
“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”
“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.
“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”
“It looks like a child made it.”
“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.
“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”
“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”
“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”
“How kind of you.”
He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”
“I’m married, Your Grace.”
“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.
“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”
“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”
“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”
“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.
“Not at all, jailbird.”
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