#Please tell me who you are before adding me

[lxcalmenace]

Some silly scenarios with bluelock boys

Based on this headcanon post

Characters included < Isagi, Bachira, Nagi, Rin, Sae and Kaiser > X gn!reader (separate)

tw: none?

⟡Isagi Yoichi - Gets into twitter discourse.

After what felt like months, it seemed that yours and Isagi's schedules had finally aligned. You entered his apartment and made your way to the living room to greet Isagi; just then you saw him sitting on the couch, a furrowed expression crossing his face and his phone in his hand. He was aggresively typing and scrolling on his phone that he failed to notice you taking a seat next to him.

"Oh shoot I didn't see you, sorry", he mutters as he shifts, allowing you to sit comfortably.

"Are you seriously arguing on twitter?," was all you said that made Isagi look away in embarrassment. Ofcourse he didn't want to admit it straight away but he was indeed losing the said argument.

"You know you don't have to prove anything to anyone right? And who even takes twitter seriously nowadays?"

You watched as Isagi let of a small huff before turning off his phone. Without a word, he pulled you in a gentle embrace as the rest of your evening blurred out into soft giggles and tender moments.

⟡Bachira Meguru - Very willing to eat inedible things.

You have been waiting to buy those food inspired scented candles for God knows too many days now; until finally, you managed to get your hands on one of them recently. It was a pancake inspired candle. It was so realistic that you could barely tell it was fake—if it weren’t for the wick sticking out of the top, you might have thought it was an actual pancake

As you opened the box, the mouthwatering, sugary smell of pancakes hit you, spreading throughout the room. This candle was too realistic and just like that, Bachira was willing to sink his teeth into the wax block.

"If it smells so good, it has to taste good too! Let me have just a bite please [name]," he whined. Bro dropped to his knees begging and pleading in exaggerated desperation- as if he would've perished due to hunger right then and there. You couldn't help but chuckle at this sight.

"Ok fine...A little bite won't hurt, but don't come complaining to me later," you sighed as you surrendered the candle to Bachira.

Disgust. Pure disgust washed over his face after he took the bite. He looked at you with teary eyes as he desperately tried to get rid of the nasty taste of the wax; which in response, you just shrugged in a 'I told you so' manner. After helping him wash his mouth and feeding him chocolates to counter the unpleasant flavor, you both finally settled down. Bachira swore that he wouldn't eat anything weird after this incident.

He tried eating cotton the next week.

⟡Nagi Seishiro - Uses two-in-one shampoo and conditioner.

Nagi was out shopping for some groceries while you were tagging alone for some snacks. It was a sunny day, you both entered the supermarket; Nagi took the basket as you made your way inside. He thinks shopping for basic necessities is a hassle and thus the reason for you tagging along to keep him company. You were free to get anything you wanted so you looked around the store, but nothing caught your eye. So you decided to go back, you spotted your tall boyfriend and made your way towards him. He was in the hygiene isle, eyeing down some shampoo bottles.

"Do you seriously use 2-in-1 shampoo? -" you ask, raising your eyebrow. Nagi looked at you with an unbothered expression as he shrugged, "Uh, yeah. Been using that since forever"

"Why are you asking me this, something wrong with it?" the tall male added while casually putting another bottle in the cart.

"Your hair is always so silky and soft; Its hard to believe that a simple 2-in-1 could give you those results. I mean, people spend a ton of money on haircare products, to achieve what you have, you know?" you replied.

"Then, thanks to my genes, I guess," he smirked as he turned around to look at you. You couldn't help but sigh and let out a chuckle. There was absolutely no point in arguing with Nagi- He always managed to win, even when he wasn't trying. You raised your hands as if you were surrendering, and then you both made your way further into the store.

Nagi is a simple guy, and slowly over time, you are starting to find comfort in his simplicity.

⟡Rin Itoshi - Plays roblox.

"Rin, dinner's ready, come down!" You yelled from the kitchen whilst serving the food on the table. A few unresponsive minutes passed, so you decided to fetch Rin yourself; thinking he might be in the shower or taking a nap. Making your way to the shared bedroom, you knocked on the door before poking your head through.

There he was, sitting on his gaming chair, with the lights out, playing..roblox..? You observed him for a couple of minutes, his face was illuminated by the screen, ever so unfazed; Rin was too immersed playing The Mimic that he failed to notice you slowly creeping up on him. The only time Rin was caught off guard was when you tapped his shoulder to get his attention. You swore you saw Rin's face go pale for a second as his eyes widen in surprise. "You play roblox?," you asked as you raised your brows in amusement.

He took off his headset and he nodded, "Is dinner ready?"

"It is"

"Alright"

You both stared at each other.

"Can we play Dress to impress later? Rin please-"

"NO."

Few moments later, the dark haired striker was seen playing Dress to impress, all the bright colors and outfits flashed on his screen display.

"You're doing incredibly well, who would've thought you had those designer skills in you Rinnie," you teased him

"Oh shut up...I just don't like losing, ok?" he scoffed but there was a small smile creeping on his lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing very well that he only agreed to play this if only you were ready to join him in his horror games. It was a win-win situation for both of you.

⟡Sae Itoshi - Had an emo phase

Your phone was buzzing for quite some time now so you finally decided to check who was texting you at this time of the night. Sae was on his way home from practice; Deciding to stay up and wait for him to get home, you layed down on the couch while keeping a random movie playing in the background. As you opened the chat, you couldn't help but burst into laughter- There were old pictures of Sae; eyes lined with eyeliner, hair was dyed dark and swooped to a side and he was wearing dark clothes. You saved all the pictures one by one as you swiped for more, that's when you heard the door open- signaling that Sae had returned home. Quickly turning off your phone, you were trying so hard to contain your laughter, but a giggle escaped your lips.

Sae muttered a small, "What are you up to [name]?" before raising an eyebrow at you. He knew that you had something cooking up due to the way you were smiling at him.

"Sae," you purred, "if hypothetically someone were to leak your embarrassing pictures, what would you do?" you grinned.

You watched as Sae's expressions went from neutral to that of pure horror.

"[Name] don't you dare-" he warned.

"I'm not saying that I have any embarrassing pictures of you tho," you replied, "It was a hypothetical question, unless," a smirk formed on your lips as you looked at Sae. "You never know what could happen next."

His eyes widen in disbelief, he knew that you had something against him. "Fine, I don't have the energy to do this. Tell me what do you want," he sighed, giving up. "But atleast show me these hypothetical pictures you have acquired, and where did you even get them from?"

You giggle as you showed him all of the pictures; to which he openly cringed hard. He was definitely not expecting this. It brought back so many of his memories before going to Spain. He sighed as he accepted his faith and made his way to the bedroom to freshen up. You typed a quick 'Thank you' and sent the chat.

"Rin reacted '👍' to your chat."

⟡Michael Kaiser - Sleeps in till noon

'12:27'

It was past noon. You had finished making breakfast, eating it, doing some chores around the house, watering the plants, having a small snack and watching a few episodes of your favorite show, and yet your boyfriend was still in your bed, sleeping peacefully. You would've chalked it up to him being tired, but he had gone to bed exceptionally early too. It was starting to concern you now. What if he was not feeling well? You made your way to the bedroom and entered it silently. There he was, soft breathing and sleeping peacefully. You sat down beside him and gently touched his forehead to check if he was sick. Everything was fine. You decided to run your fingers through his messy bed hair, untangling any small knots. Michael slowly started to stir and the first thing he did was kiss your hand, which made your lips morph into a small smile.

"Good morning, mein Schatz," He mumbled groggily, "What time is it?" he asked while rubbing his eyes. He let out a yawn as he sat up your bed

"Its good afternoon now, wake up Micha," you continue to run your fingers through his blonde locks as he embraced you, still feeling sleepy.

You pat his head, "C'mon have your lunch, you must be hungry."

"Are you on the menu?" he muttered against your shoulder.

". . ."

"Then no, I dont want to eat"

"Michael no-"

Not proofread so ignore any mistakes and ty for reading !!

[starboye]

starring: rafe cameron x male reader

request: reader finds it hot when rafe wears his cap but is too shy to tell frat boy rafe that but he catches on to it ad wears it while breeding reader. at the end rafe jokes and says he knows his cap makes reader precum

warnings: smut, cursing, drugs, reader taking drugs, breeding kink, rough sex, mentions of drinking

rafe cameron, god damn it, just saying his name gets you going and it doesn't help that he has that backwards cap on making it even harder to stay sane, you watched him from across the room selling to some random people who were desperate for the edge off, you couldn't take your eyes off him though, the way his jaw clenched when someone tried to skimp him on money or the way his hands moved when he counted money.

and it's not like rafe didn't notice the crush you had on him, he always saw the way you looked at him and he loved teasing you about it so that's why he did those little small things like clench his jaw or flex his hands, now he finally wanted to give you what you silently beg for every time you're at one of his parties "hey you" rafe called out to you, snapping your head up from your phone to look at him "me" you question heart beating faster.

"yeah you c'mere" he says waving you over and you timidly make your way to him, standing over him, his legs spread open as he relaxes into the couch "don't be shy sit down" he pats the space next to him and you couldn't possibly deny the man so you sat down next to him still sorta tense "could you be anymore tense" he chuckles taking a swig of his beer before putting it on the coffee table in front of him.

"here i got something that will make you feel good" rafe says leaning forward to grab some of the white substance he was selling earlier, lining some of it on his fingers and bringing it to your lips "oh no i couldn't do that" you nervously say "c'mon it'll make you feel great" he whispers in your ear, shivers running down your spine quickly before you nod at his question "fine" you exhale.

rafe brings his finger closer and slips it into your mouth rubbing the substance across your gums, immediately calming you with a wave of euphoria falling over your body "good boy" rafe smirks bringing you back to your senses, did you just hear what your think you heard, rafe calling you a good boy?! this making your heart beats against the inside of your chest quicker and harder.

"y'know you do a really shitty job at hiding your crush for me" rafe laughs bringing his face closer with yours, his lips almost grazing against yours "wait what if someone sees" you say placing a hand on his chest to stop his movements "everyone here is either drunk or high, they wont give a fuck" he says before bringing you into a kiss, it's like the room was spinning now and you couldn't control yourself.

"please fuck me" you breathlessly say in between the kiss and you don't know why you said it but rafe was ecstatic you did "say less" and next thing you know you're in rafes bed getting fucked like there's no tomorrow, "moaning like a bitch in heat" in the words of rafe and with the help of the drugs in your system you could feel every little thrust even harder now.

it felt like you were seeing stars as rafe grunts in your ear with each thrust, and to add to it rafe didn't take off his cap, leaving it on when he saw how it made you want him more and more, his chain also dangling in your face "damn who woulda thought id e fucking someone like you tonight" he laughed watching you turn away from his gaze "aw c'mon don't do that now" he pouts turning your head to face him again.

he had that stupid smirk on his face, and you looked like at this point you could be on another planet with how far your eyes were rolling back, the wet sound of skin slapping filled the room with your moans and rafes groans, your mind was fuzzy and cloudy from the continuous fucking that you started incoherently babbling some nonsense to rafe.

"p-please" you whined out "tell me what you want" he grunts, hips viciously snapping into your with no end in sight "please breed me, i want your cum so bad" you choke out with little whimpers in between, rafe looks down at you, tilting his head to the side wondering if he really heard your words right, you wanted him to breed you? i mean you don't have to convince him anymore your wish will be his command.

"of course i will" he smirks holding your hips to fuck into you harder, you moan out loudly but luckily it's covered up by the sounds of the blaring music, rafe didn't even know why but for some reason he just leaned down and began making out with you, sloppy wet kisses across your lips and neck, as much as you were infatuated with him, he was slowly starting to grow a liking to you and he didn't know why.

maybe it was the way you moaned his name or the way you sucked him back in every time he tried to pull out or maybe it was both, either way if he was gonna fill you up he was gonna do it his way, hard and fast, vulgar words spilling from his mouth as he thrusts became sloppy and soon cumming in you, pumping drop after drop if cum into your already messy hole.

rafe hid his face in the crook of your neck, to tired to even move and you didn't mind "i can't believe you came from the sight of me wearing a hat" rafe jokes breaking the silence and drawing a laugh from you, this definitely wasn't the end to the night.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[robo-writing]

Hi hi! I read some of your work (amazing, 10/10 ILY) and saw that requests were open!!!

Like you have posted, I too am currently obsessed with Logan Howlett. (He could step on my toe and I’d THANK HIM AUUUGGGGH-)

Could I request some HC’s about Logan x afab!insecure!reader?

Like insecure about their intelligence, body type, overall looks- And who also just has general bad anxiety about every action they do? NSFW or SFW is completely okay 🫶

If not, that’s completely fine!! ILY TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF

Of course! SFW and NSFW below <3

SFW

✦He didn't get it at first, he thought you were just shy until he paid attention and realized you just weren't confident in yourself ✦The realization confused him even more, especially since he thought you were so talented. Unfortunately you just couldn't see it. ✦He's your number one fan, always encouraging you whenever you're doubting yourself ✦Stands up for you whenever people try to talk over you, he can also tell whenever you have something on your mind but you're too afraid to say it ✦Makes it his personal mission to compliment your looks. If you're comfortable with physical touch he is SO handsy, if you're not he makes it known how beautiful you are; compliments your outfits, your hair, spends entire minutes just staring at you (you're always embarrassed but it only encourages him further.)

He’s got you nestled in his arms, not really paying attention to the cheesy action film playing in the background. No, he’s more focused on you, on your hair, your eyes, your face—

“—You’re staring again,” you say, looking up at him.

Caught red-handed, he doesnt make any effort to hide his gaze. “I know I am.”

His words make your face hot. You try to turn away but he doesn’t let you, hands pulling your face back to him.

“Don’t shy away from me baby, just wanna look at you for a while,” he sighs, kissing your temple. “Is it illegal to look at my girl?”

You’re giggling, both at his antics and his cheesy line. His lips trail closer and closer, lips brushing before he captures your own in a warm embrace. Slow, melodic, a kiss that makes both body and mind melt.

“Never gonna stop looking at my girl,” he breathes. “I can promise you that.”

NSFW

✦Like I said, he makes it his job to show you just how pretty you are. ✦Spends so much time touching you, teasing you, that by the time he takes your clothes off you're begging for more ✦Fingers you in front of a mirror to show you just how pretty you are, pulling your head back forward when you turn away. Will stop if you stop looking. ✦Nicknames galore. Baby, darling, sweet cheeks, all of which make your heart melt. ✦Locks your hands in his when you try to cover your face. No hiding from him.

Logan’s arm holds you tight to his chest, legs forcing your own apart while his free hand plays with your pussy. Large fingers rub against your sensitive clit with vigor while you shake in his arms, a strong grip keeping you right where you are.

“Come on doll, remember our deal,” he growls, hand reaching up to your face. “Don’t make me hold your chin.”

Your reflection stares back at you, a lecherous reminder of your previous agreement; No looking away, or he stops.

His words ring in your ears along with the sound of your cunt, the soft squelch of his fingers echoing throughout the room. You grab at his arm, nails scratching at his skin, your voice high pitched as you cry his name.

“Gonna come, please—“ you whine. The hand on your neck faces you forward, and it’s now you can see the predator stare of your boyfriend behind you, desire alight in his eyes. His hair sticks to his forehead, adding to the menacing gaze he gives you through the mirror.

“Look at yourself when you do.” He whispers, and on command your juices soak his hand.

[aviiarie]

cws & notes: reader (and kaveh) are VERY implied to be aromantic or on the aromantic spectrum. mentions of kissing. lots of platonic affection. platonic kaveh & gn!reader. 1.1k words. wrote this for myself tbh

“So are you two dating?”

You wish you could say it's the first time you've heard the question. And you wish you could bring yourself to be annoyed about hearing it again, but you know there's no malice or spite in the words. Only a polite sort of curiousity, unaware of the way your stomach turns at the thought.

And maybe you wish you could tell Nilou 'no, we're not, why would you think that?' but you know your hand is intertwined with his, and his knee is touching yours, and you have his cheek leaning against the top of your head. You know how it looks, but that never mattered. It felt comfortable, like you fit together just right. Affectionate, with no strings attached.

That was the part that no one seemed to get. You and him were at an understanding that seemed to make sense to no one but yourselves; the squeezing hugs, and nicknames, and nights spent staying up until 3am didn't mean a thing. When you fell asleep on his shoulder, when he chastely kissed you goodbye before leaving on a work trip, it wasn't because you both harboured a secret love you were too shy to say out loud.

You adored him, of course. He was your best friend. But that was it; no strings.

There were always those who couldn't wrap their heads around the thought, the ones who insisted that they had to be at least into each other a little bit. So much time spent being friends, such closeness had to speak to a blossoming romance that just hadn't quiet bloomed yet, right?

What they didn't know was you had tried, your senior year at the Akademiya. It was after all of the comments about how odd it was that they were so close without being a couple finally started to get to them. During a party hosted by a classmate you don't remember the name of, when the teasing and jabs had gotten a little too much, you had found him taking a breather out on the front steps.

Conversation came easily, comfort came quietly, and soon the topic shifted to what people were saying. It was always talk, rumours, gossip. But he could see how they were weighing on you. He could see the look of doubt in your eyes, wondering if this was something you were supposed to want.

If you can't bring yourself to fall for the most important person in your life, then what was wrong with you? Was love a prize that you were never going to win, a lock that you're never going to find the key for?

“Will you kiss me?” You blurted out, and his eyebrows raise. “J-Just once. I just... everyone keeps telling me I'm supposed to like you, and you're supposed to like me, but I just...”

“You want to see?” Kaveh asked hesitantly. You swallow, and nod. “I don't want to do something you don't want to do.”

“I want to. Please, I... I don't want to ask anyone else.” You paused, before quietly adding on, “If there's truly something wrong with me, I want to know now.”

The pinch between Kaveh's eyebrows deepened, but there was a flicker of vulnerability behind his eyes. Some part of him was flashing with the same fear, wondering if there was something wrong with him too, all because he couldn't muster up enough emotion to see you in a romantic light.

Carefully, he placed his hand on your cheek, bringing your face closer to his. There was a pause, before he met your lips in an awkward kiss. There were no sparks that crackled against your mouth, no butterflies in your stomach. It was a unpleasant clashing of teeth together, with your cracked lips pressing against his soft ones for a second too long.

You pull away, face flushed with embarrassment more than anything. “I... I don't think I want to do that again.”

“Me neither.” Kaveh grimaced. He sighed, leaning back to give you a bit more space. “Why do you worry so much about what they say?”

“Because! I'm supposed to enjoy it, aren't I?” There were tears in your eyes, but you didn't care. If there was one person you could cry around, it was him. “What is wrong with me? Why can't I even fake it?”

“You don't need to!” Kaveh said quickly. He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Maybe... maybe some people just don't like that sort of love. I know I sure don't, and I've known you long enough to figure out you don't either. We don't have to be a couple to care about each other, right?”

You stared at him, slightly dazed. “...I guess not.”

And since that night, you've never been able to forget his words, and the way he said them. It was like your world got shifted around, and nothing seemed quite the same. All the stress about love, all the worry about whether people thought you were a couple seemed so insignificant all of a sudden.

Yet, your new lighter worldview never stopped that burning question, that followed the pair of you like a shadow.

“So, are you two dating?”

The question echoes in your head, sounding over and over. Nilou is still staring at you, waiting for an answer, although her gaze occasionally flicks to your linked hands resting on his lap.

“We're just friends,” Kaveh responds smoothly. He lets go of your hand long enough to wave away the question, laughing lightly. “Honestly, the amount of times I've been asked that...”

“O-Oh!” Nilou's eyes widen, and her cheeks turn pink. Part of you feels bad for making her look so flustered, but the uncomfortable twist in your gut reminds you that it was her question that started it in the first place. “I didn't mean to assume... you just look so close!”

“We are.” He smiles gently. “But I can assure you we are very happy as friends. Neither of us are interested in that sort of relationship, much less with each other.”

She nods, as if she understands, but there's still confusion behind her expression.

It didn't matter. People didn't have to get what was so special about the two of you. They didn't have to understand what you had, and what you lacked, and why it didn't make much of a difference at all.

You were friends, best friends. And that was plenty enough love for the both of you.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[linos-luna]

Cameras 🔪

Yandere!Han x Reader

Warnings: YANDERE, violence, toxic behavior, manipulation, spying, 18+

———————————————— •

You sit at your desk, staring down at the open notebook, your fingers tracing its edges, but your mind is somewhere else. The house is quiet, a little too quiet, and that familiar, uneasy feeling creeps over you again. Lately, it’s like someone’s been watching you, even when you’re sure you’re alone.

You try to shake it off, just like you’ve done every other time, telling yourself it’s nothing. But deep down, you know it’s not just paranoia. The little things have been adding up. Your stuff is always out of place, your jewelry box lid half open, a photo frame slightly crooked. And Han… well, you had mentioned it to him once, but he brushed it off.

"You're stressed, Y/N," he had said with that charming smile. "You need to relax."

That smile you love. Now it just feels off.

Your eyes drift to your bedside lamp. Something flashes, just for a second, but you see it. You sit up, heart skipping a beat as you reach for the lamp. Unscrewing the lampshade, you freeze when you see it. A tiny, blinking red light. A camera.

What the hell??

Your pulse quickens as you stare at the small device in your hand. Why is there a camera here? Who put it here?

But you already know. You just don’t want to believe it.

Your breath comes in short gasps as you tear through your room. Behind the framed pictures, inside the air vents, even inside your stuffed bear. More cameras. Everywhere.

You feel sick. How long has this been happening? How much has Han seen?

Without thinking, you grab your phone and dial Han. The anger in your voice barely masks the fear. “Han, we need to talk. Now.”

It doesn’t take him long to show up. His face is full of concern—or is it something darker? You can’t tell anymore.

“What’s going on?” he asks, stepping inside like nothing’s wrong. Like he hasn’t been invading every second of your life.

You hold up the camera, your hand trembling. “Why are there cameras in my room?”

For a split second, something flickers in his eyes. And then, just like that, his mask drops. The concern fades, and what’s left makes your stomach twist.

“I did it to protect you,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You don’t understand. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You want to scream, to cry, but all that comes out is cold, hard disbelief. "This isn’t protection, Han. This is control."

His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You don’t get to walk away from me."

Your body tenses as he steps closer, too close. His hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist before you can react. Pain surges through your arm as his grip tightens.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he growls, his breath hot against your face. “No one else will take care of you like I do. You don’t get to leave me.”

A wave of panic crashes over you, but underneath it, anger is building. You twist your wrist, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightens. The pressure makes your vision blur with tears.

“No, Han…” Your voice trembling with fury. “Y-you’re sick!”

Without thinking, you drive your knee up into his stomach, hard.

He lets out a grunt, doubling over just enough for you to yank your arm free. You stumble back, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding your system. But then Han straightens, his face twisting with rage.

Before you can react, his hand swings out, slapping you across the cheek. Pain stinging in your face, knocking you off balance. You crash into the dresser, books and other nicknacks scattering to the floor. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a bit in pain.

He’s standing over you now, breathing heavily, his fists clenched, but then something shifts in his expression. His eyes soften, a flicker of regret passing over his face as he takes in your terrified look.

“Baby, I’m sorry!” Han pleads, his voice breaking. “Don’t cry, please! I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

The room spins as you force yourself up, your legs trembling beneath you. Your hand brushes against the dresser, and you grab the nearest thing, a heavy lamp. Without a second thought, you throw it at him.

It misses, crashing into the wall behind him, but Han still flinches, staggering back as he dodges. His eyes widen, and for a moment, you see hurt flicker there.

“Y/N? W-why are you trying to hurt me?” His voice trembles, and you pause, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You’re the one getting violent!” you shout, the words tearing from your throat.

For a split second, he looks like he’s about to cry, and something inside you twists painfully. He just stands there, staring at you with those sad, broken eyes, making your heart ache.

He’s manipulating you. You know it, you *know* it, but that pang of guilt creeps in anyway. You have to shake it off.

“Stop it, Han. It’s not working. Not this time.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the softness drains from his face. The mask drops, revealing the cold, eerie calm underneath.

“Y/N…” he says, his voice unnervingly steady. “You know I love you. Everything I do is because I love you.” He takes a step closer, his eyes darkening. “And I’ll do anything for you.”

Han’s words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. His eerie calm sends a chill down your spine, but your legs won’t move. His eyes bore into yours, dark and unwavering, and you realize with a sickening jolt that there’s no reasoning with him. He’s beyond that now.

You back up slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Han… stay away from me.”

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he takes another step toward you, his voice lowering into something soft, almost tender. “I’m the only one who can protect you, Y/N. Don’t you see? No one else will love you the way I do.”

You feel the wall press against your back, cold and unyielding. There’s nowhere else to go.

“Please, Han,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”

For a moment, his face softens again, but you know it’s a lie, just like before. He closes the distance between you in two long strides, grabbing your arms and pinning you against the wall. His grip is bruising, his breath hot and uneven as he leans in, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Why can’t you just be mine?” he whispers harshly, his fingers digging into your skin. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

Panic surges through you, but your body feels frozen. You struggle against his hold, but he’s too strong. His hands move to your throat, not tightening, but just enough to make you realize how helpless you are in that moment.

Your vision blurs with tears as you gasp for air, your body trembling under his hold. This is it, you think. It’s the end. You close your eyes in defeat, bracing for the inevitable as his hands apply light pressure to your throat.

But then, just as quickly as it started, the pressure eases. You blink in confusion, feeling his grip loosen. When you open your eyes, Han’s expression has changed… his face etched with guilt, sadness pooling in his eyes.

“Baby…” he whispers softly, his hands still hovering at your throat, but no longer squeezing.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him look down at his own hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Tears start to roll down his cheeks, silent and slow, before he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I-I’m sorry…” he sobs, his voice breaking.

His arms wrap around you, almost crushing you against him, and the sudden shift feels jarring. You can hear him weeping, his breath catching between sobs. The warmth of his body, the way he clings to you, it's so different from the rage that had consumed him moments ago.

You stand frozen, your body still shaking, unsure of what to do. Was this another trick? Another way to manipulate you, to pull you back into his control? Or… was he actually genuine this time?

It was hard to tell, and that terrified you the most...

[ssa-dado]

6 - Synthesis

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader

Genre: angst, fluff, slow burn

Summary: After an intense case, you and Hotch struggle with unresolved tensions from a previous argument. On the train back, Hotch overhears Peter comforting you about a recent tragedy, realizing he’s been blind to your pain. Later, Hotch unexpectedly shows up at your apartment, opening up and apologizing for his emotional distance, leading to a heartfelt moment of mutual vulnerability. That evening, you attend Peter’s welcome-back party, feeling lighter and reconnecting with the team. That's when Peter makes an unusual bet with you.

Warnings: death, grief, emotional abuse, domestic violence, family dysfunction.

Word Count: 7.6k

Dado's Corner: Phi posting two chapters in less than 12 hours? More likely than you think. I was supposed to wait until tomorrow, but I just couldn’t help myself. Thank you all so much for the love and support you’ve shown for the series so far! Each of you holds a special place in my cold little heart. Please don’t hate me after this - it hurts me, too - but hey, there’s some interrogation room Aaron to sweeten things up. I’m particularly proud of this cute, lovely chapter. It doesn’t make me want to jump out the window. Not even a little bit. Embrace the pain.

previous part ; masterlist

Gideon smiled knowingly, his eyes shifting between you and Hotch. “Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he mused, almost as if he were speaking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. “Funny how life always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”

●

The observation room was dimly lit, casting long, uneven shadows over you and Peter as you stood behind the two-way mirror, your heartbeat seemed to echo in the quiet, barely audible over the hum of the fluorescent light. You watched Hotch on the other side, preparing to interrogate the suspect, he appeared calm as usual, wearing his mask of stoicism proudly on his face, but you could tell the tension was palpable.

The room beyond the glass was stark, the suspect sat at the metal table gleaming under the harsh light with a smug expression, arms casually draped over the back of his chair, utterly unbothered. Te view was borderline infuriating.

The hair on your arms stood up, not just from the cold, but from the overwhelming sense of helplessness that had settled over the case. You couldn’t shake the nagging thought that you were grasping at straws, the weight of the local police’s blunders pressing heavily on your chest. They had fumbled, and badly. Critical evidence had slipped through their fingers, lost or contaminated in the chaos. You didn’t even want to hear the whole story—you were too furious, your senses shutting down as the same detective who had once doubted your work stumbled through a pathetic apology. All you had now was Hotch. No physical proof, no solid evidence to tie this man to the crimes you knew he’d committed.

Your gaze flicked back to the suspect, his arrogance nauseating. He knew the game, knew the system, and worse, he knew how to manipulate it to his advantage. There was a clock ticking in your mind, every second precious, the sense of urgency suffocating. If Hotch couldn’t break him - if he couldn’t find a way past the layers of lies and smug indifference - you’d lose him. You couldn’t afford that, not now.

Peter’s jaw clenched as he observed the scene, his frustration evident. “This was a mistake,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “We warned them not to bring him in without something solid. Now we’re stuck trying to clean up their mess.”

You nodded, your mind still reeling from the argument with Hotch the night before, as if all of this mess wasn’t already enough for your nerves to handle. The tension between you two had lingered, unresolved and heavy, adding another layer to your frustration. You tried to shake it off, but it clung to you, making it even harder to focus. “Yeah, and now Hotch has to pull off a miracle,” you said, your voice tinged with both a tinge of annoyance and worry. “He’s got one shot to get this right.”

Peter turned his attention back to the interrogation room, his eyes narrowing as Hotch sat across from the suspect. “If anyone can do it, it’s him. I’ve seen Hotch work multiple times, and somehow he even looks sharper, more intense.”

Inside the room, Hotch began his interrogation with a measured calm, his eyes locked on the suspect, who lounged back in his chair, exuding a quiet confidence. Hotch started with the basics, the routine questions meant to establish rapport, but the suspect was playing his own game, answering with a smug smile and evasive nonchalance.

Hotch leaned back, crossing his arms as he observed the suspect’s every move, every twitch. “You’ve been careful,” Hotch said, his voice steady but probing. “I’ll give you that. You’ve covered your tracks well. But you slipped up, everyone makes mistakes, especially when they think they’re untouchable.”

The suspect smirked, feigning boredom. “You’re wasting your breath, Agent Hotchner. You and I both know you have nothing on me - no evidence, no witnesses. You’re grasping at straws.”

Hotch’s gaze remained unflinching, but you could see the subtle shift in his demeanor, the way he leaned in just slightly, narrowing the space between the two of them. “You’re right, we don’t have physical evidence, but we do have you, and that’s enough. Because here’s the thing - you’re not as smart as you think you are. You’ve made this personal, and personal is messy.”

The suspect chuckled, tapping his fingers lightly on the table as if this were a game to him. “Oh, please. I’ve seen every tactic in the book, and I’ve got an answer for all of them. You can’t intimidate me, Hotchner. I know my rights. You’ve got nothing.”

Hotch’s expression remained stoic, but there was a flash of determination in his eyes. “You think this is about intimidation? You’re missing the point. This isn’t about fear, it’s about you and the mistakes you’ve made. You’ve left a trail, little hints of who you really are. You think you’ve hidden them, but they’re there, buried in the details.”

The suspect’s confident facade faltered for just a second, but he quickly recovered, scoffing. “You’re reaching. This isn’t some TV show where the bad guy breaks down in a dramatic confession. I’m not saying a damn thing without my lawyer.”

Hotch’s demeanor shifted, a cold, calculating edge creeping into his voice. “Your lawyer? You think your lawyer’s going to save you? They’ll do their job, make sure you’re comfortable, make sure you feel safe. But at the end of the day, they’re not in here with you, they’re not the ones facing the consequences of your actions - you are. And you’ve got no one to blame but yourself.”

From the other side of the glass, you watched Hotch methodically chip away at the suspect’s arrogance. Each line of questioning was a carefully placed strike, designed to weaken his resolve, but the suspect wasn’t giving in easily. He deflected, twisted Hotch’s words, and tried to turn the conversation back on him.

“You think you’re so righteous, don’t you?” the suspect sneered, leaning forward with a glint of disdain in his eyes. “Sitting there, acting like you’ve got the moral high ground. You don’t know me, Agent Hotchner. You don’t know a damn thing about what I’ve been through, the people I’ve dealt with - you think you’re better than me?”

Hotch didn’t flinch even if the last words reminded him of the argument he had with you down at the lobby. “No, I don’t think I’m better than you, but I do know who you are. You’re the guy who blames everyone else when things go wrong, the guy who hides behind his intellect because he’s too scared to admit he’s just another coward trying to prove he’s not afraid. But guess what? That act doesn’t work on me.”

The suspect’s composure slipped, his anger flaring as Hotch hit a nerve. “You don’t get to judge me! You sit there like you’re some kind of saint, but you’re just as flawed as the rest of us. You have no right—”

Hotch cut him off sharply, his voice cold and unyielding. “You’re right. I’m not perfect. I’ve made my mistakes, and I own them. But I’m not the one hiding behind excuses, you are. You’re the one who thinks he can play God, decide who deserves to live or die based on your twisted sense of justice. But here’s the thing: you’re not in control, not anymore.”

From the observation room, you felt your chest tighten. Hotch was relentless, pushing the suspect further than you’d ever seen him push anyone before. It was as if he’d tapped into something raw and unforgiving, something that drove him to keep going, to tear down every last defense the suspect had.

Peter glanced at you, his brow furrowing. “I’ve never seen him go this hard. It’s like he’s on a mission.”

You nodded, the tension from last night’s argument still simmering inside you. You knew why Hotch was pushing himself like this: because of you, because of the unresolved words between you, and because he needed to prove something, maybe even to himself. “He’s not going to stop until he gets what he wants.”

Inside the room, the suspect’s attitude was crumbling. Hotch leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, laced with a quiet menace. “You think you’re untouchable, that you’ve covered all your bases. But I’ve spent years in courtrooms taking down men just like you, men who thought they were too smart to get caught. I know every trick, every lie, every pathetic attempt to weasel your way out of the truth.”

The suspect’s face tightened, his hands clenching into fists as he tried to maintain control. But Hotch was unrelenting, his gaze piercing through every layer of the man’s defenses. “You don’t want to admit it, but you’re scared, I can see it in your eyes. You’re terrified that the truth is going to come out, that all your carefully crafted lies are going to fall apart right in front of you - so, here’s your last chance. Tell me the truth. Tell me why you did it.”

There was a beat of silence, a heavy pause as the suspect’s composure finally shattered. His shoulders slumped, his defiance giving way to resignation. He looked up at Hotch, defeated and angry, his voice breaking as he finally confessed, each word a bitter surrender. “Fine. Fine, you want the truth? I did it. I killed them. But you have no idea why. You don’t know what it’s like to be powerless.”

“No you’re right, I don’t.” Hotch sat back, a flicker of triumph in his eyes, though his expression remained guarded: he had what he needed. The confession was out, raw and unfiltered, pulled from the depths of the suspect’s desperation.

Peter let out a low whistle, still reeling from what he’d witnessed. “That was... intense. I’ve never seen Hotch like that, he’s kind of intimidating.”

You nodded in agreement, your gaze still fixed on Hotch as he calmly gathered his notes, preparing to leave the room. You could see the toll it had taken on him, the emotional weight he carried even as he walked out victorious, and as much as you wanted to celebrate the success, the confrontation from the night before still lingered, leaving you with the unsettling realization that this fight wasn’t just with the suspect - it was within Hotch himself.

When Hotch stepped out of the interrogation room, the tension in his posture seemed to ease, but only slightly. His face was set in its usual mask of calm control, yet there was a heaviness in his eyes, a flicker of something raw that he couldn’t quite hide. Peter clapped him on the back, a mix of admiration and relief in his expression. “Hell of a job, Hotch. You tore him apart. I’ve seen you work, but that was something else entirely.”

Hotch gave a tight nod, his jaw still clenched, but his gaze was already shifting past Peter, landing on you. His eyes were searching, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction, seeking some unspoken acknowledgment from you. “Thanks,” he said, his voice measured but tinged with exhaustion. “It had to be done.”

You stood there with your arms crossed, leaning against the wall, trying to maintain a composed exterior, but inside, you were anything but calm. Watching Hotch in that room, ruthlessly tearing down the suspect’s defenses, stirred something deep within you. It was impressive, yes, but also unsettling. You had never seen him so relentless, so driven - and you knew exactly what was fueling his determination.

As Hotch’s gaze lingered on you, there was a silent understanding between you, a shared acknowledgment of the emotional battlefield you both were navigating. The words from your argument the night before still echoed in your mind, sharp and unresolved, like an open wound that hadn’t had the chance to heal. The case had forced you both to set your personal issues aside, but now, in the aftermath, they were still there, hovering between you like a shadow neither of you could ignore.

Peter glanced between the two of you, sensing the charged atmosphere but choosing not to comment. He knew better than to pry, but even he could tell that whatever was going on between you and Hotch went deeper than the usual tension of a difficult case. “We got what we needed,” Peter said, trying to break the silence. “That’s what matters. Now we can finally put this bastard away.”

Hotch nodded, but his eyes never left yours, and in that moment, it felt like the rest of the room had faded away. It was just the two of you, caught in a silent standoff where neither of you knew how to take the next step. You wanted to say something, anything that would bridge the gap that had formed between you, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the emotions you’d been trying so hard to keep in check.

The triumph of the confession felt hollow against the weight of what was still left unsaid. You and Hotch had always been able to read each other, but now, standing on opposite sides of this unspoken rift, it was as if the connection you’d relied on had fractured. There was so much you wanted to ask him: why he’d pushed so hard, why he seemed so desperate to prove something today, and why he couldn’t let his guard down, even for a moment. But instead, you just nodded, swallowing back the questions that burned at the back of your throat. “You did what you had to do,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, though it wavered slightly. “Good work, Hotch.”

Hotch’s gaze softened for a brief second, a flicker of regret or maybe gratitude crossing his features, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. “Thanks,” he replied, his voice lower, more personal than before. “We all did.”Peter’s presence was a reminder that you weren’t alone, but it didn’t ease the tension that thrummed between you and Hotch. As Hotch turned to leave, the weight of your argument still hung heavy, unresolved, and painful. You watched him go, the distance between you feeling wider than ever, despite being just a few feet apart.

And as you stood there, with Peter by your side and the echo of Hotch’s footsteps fading down the corridor, you realized that the hardest part of this case wasn’t just about catching a killer, it was about facing the fractures in your own relationships, the ones that no amount of profiling or interrogation could ever fix.

The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks was a dull, constant noise that filled the otherwise quiet cabin. You sat alone, your head down and your pen moving steadily across the paper as you filled out your case report. It was a task you’d thrown yourself into, your way of avoiding the one thing you weren’t ready to confront: Hotch.

Hotch sat a few rows behind you, his back to you, mirroring your actions as he worked on his own report with a similar intensity. It was almost poetic how the two of you were so much alike: both of you throwing yourselves into your work to avoid the harder truths, and neither willing to make the first move toward reconciliation.

As you focused on your writing, you heard footsteps approach. You didn’t need to look up to know it was Peter; you’d recognized the casual confidence in his stride from a mile away. He slid into the seat beside you without asking, his presence a familiar and oddly comforting interruption.

Peter glanced at your half-filled report, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You never could sit still, could you?” he said, his voice soft but laced with a hint of fondness. “Always working, always thinking.”

You tried to muster a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Just trying to get this done before we get back,” you said, your tone evasive. You knew why he’d come over, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the conversation you’d been avoiding since you’d seen him again.

Peter watched you for a moment, his expression shifting from casual to serious. He took a deep breath, glancing at the report before returning his gaze to you. “Y/N,” he began, his voice quieter now, “I’ve been wanting to tell you this since I got back, but I didn’t want to bring it up while we were in the middle of the case.”

You stiffened, knowing exactly what he was going to say but hoping he wouldn’t.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for your dad’s funeral,” Peter said, his voice heavy with regret. “I wanted to be, but I was stuck overseas. I hate that I wasn’t there.”

You clenched your jaw, staring down at the paper in front of you, your pen hovering uselessly above the page. The memories of that day flooded backstanding at the grave, the heavy weight of loss pressing down on your chest, and the overwhelming feeling of being completely and utterly alone. You’d been surrounded by people, but none of them had truly understood, none of them had been him.

“It’s fine, Pete,” you said, though your voice was shaky. “You were doing your job. Besides, it’s not like it would’ve changed anything.”

Peter shook his head, frustration flickering in his eyes. “No, it’s not okay. You were always there for me, even when we were just kids trying to figure out what the hell we were doing with our lives. And I couldn’t even show up when you needed me the most.”

Peter studied you, his eyes searching yours. He could see the cracks you were trying so desperately to hide, the way you were holding yourself together with sheer willpower. “I should have been there,” he insisted gently. “I know how much you went through with him… I remember everything you told me about him.”

A knot formed in your throat as you thought back to your childhood, your father’s relentless work ethic, his unyielding drive for perfection. He had been your hero in so many ways, but he’d also been your downfall. You’d inherited his toxic trait of overworking yourself, the constant need to be better, to be more. It was how you’d coped with the chaos at home, the screaming matches between your parents that had been your daily soundtrack. Your mother, exasperated and exhausted, would often switch languages mid-argument to keep you in the dark, to protect you - or maybe just to exclude you - from the mess they had created.

“I was just a kid, you know?” you said quietly, your voice tinged with bitterness. “All I wanted was to understand why they were always fighting. I started learning every language my mom switched to, Italian, Spanish, anything that would give me a clue, but instead of finding answers, I just… found more reasons to stay away.”

Peter’s eyes softened, a flicker of pain crossing his features as he listened. “You drowned yourself in books, in knowledge, just to escape,” he said, his voice low. “I remember you telling me that once, how you’d sit in those lecture halls at the university, absorbing everything because it was better than being home.”

Your childhood had been filled their voices rising in heated exchanges that always seemed to end in silence, your father retreating to his study to bury himself in more work, and your mother seeking solace in her books. To escape the turbulence at home, you’d thrown yourself into your studies with a fervor that bordered on obsession. You’d devoured literature, philosophy, psychology, anything that could distract you from the reality of your parents’ failing marriage, to gain a semblance of control in a world that often felt chaotic and out of reach.

You had become fluent in the languages they used to hide their pain from you, and in doing so, you became fluent in the art of distancing yourself from your own emotions. The habit of overworking, of pouring yourself into every task with unrelenting focus, was something you had learned from your father, a toxic legacy that you couldn’t quite shake, even now. It had been the source of countless arguments with your mother, who had begged you not to follow in his footsteps, to find balance, to live a life that wasn’t dictated by the demands of work. But it was easier said than done, and as the years went on, you found yourself mirroring his habits more than you cared to admit.

You nodded, swallowing hard against the emotion that threatened to choke you. “I kept pushing myself, kept chasing after something I couldn’t even name. My dad… he always told me that hard work was the only thing that mattered, he never slowed down, never stopped, and neither did I. Even when their marriage fell apart… even when he got sick. I just… I couldn’t stop.”

You hesitated, your eyes welling up with tears that you refused to let fall. “I didn’t even cry at his funeral, I just stood there, feeling nothing. And I haven’t been to visit his grave since.”

Peter gently reached out, guiding your head to rest on his shoulder, tightly hugging you. “It’s okay not to be okay, Y/N,” he murmured. “You don’t have to carry this all on your own. The least I can do is be the shoulder you can lean on.” Peter squeezed your shoulder gently, his eyes filled with compassion. “Your dad was tough, but he loved you, Y/N. And you don’t have to prove anything to him, not anymore. You’re allowed to grieve, to feel lost, to not have all the answers.”

You nodded, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. “I know. But sometimes it’s hard to remember that.”

Hotch sat just behind you, his back facing yours, he had intended to keep to himself, to give you the space you needed, but the quiet murmurs of your conversation had carried over. He couldn’t help but overhear Peter’s words, and as he listened, a wave of guilt and realization washed over him.

Hotch had always prided himself on his ability to read people, to see through the masks they wore, but he hadn’t seen through yours. He hadn’t seen the pain you’d been hiding, the grief that had been eating away at you just beneath a slim surface. And suddenly, your words from the night before came crashing back: how he didn’t know you, how he’d never bothered to look beyond the professional facade you’d built.

His own mind flickered back to his childhood, the memories of his father’s anger, the violence that lurked behind every door. Hotch had spent years burying and hiding those scars, never letting anyone see how deeply they ran. He had kept it all locked away, just as you had, believing that the only way to survive was to keep moving, to never let the pain catch up.

For the first time, Hotch truly understood why you had lashed out at him. You had seen in him the very thing you feared in yourself: the relentless drive to work, to control, to avoid facing the hurt that lingered beneath. He realized now that you were so much more alike than he had ever imagined, both of you haunted by the ghosts of your pasts, both trying to outrun the pain that always seemed to catch up.

As Hotch stared out the window at the passing scenery, he felt a deep sense of remorse. He wished he had known, wished he had been able to offer you the support you so clearly needed. But all he could do now was hope that you would one day trust him enough to let him in, to share the burdens you had been carrying alone for far too long.

Peter’s voice broke the silence, pulling Hotch from his thoughts. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know that? But it’s okay to let someone else be strong for you, too.”

You nodded, wiping away the tears that had finally escaped. “Thanks, Pete. It’s just… it’s hard.”

“I know,” Peter said softly. “But you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Hotch listened to the quiet exchange, the raw honesty between you and Peter striking a chord deep within him. He knew now that he couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine, that the walls he had built were enough to protect him or you. As the train sped toward Quantico, Hotch made a silent promise to himself: he would do better, he would be better. For you, and for himself.

Because in the end, you both deserved more than just the comfort of solitude. You deserved to be understood, to be seen, and to finally let go of the burdens you had carried for far too long.

Peter on the other hand had always been the kind of friend who could read you like a book, even when you tried to keep the pages closed. And after this emotional confrontation he knew he didn’t have to push further. He could see the exhaustion in your eyes, the way you were holding yourself together by the thinnest thread. So, he did what he always did best, he tried to lift your spirits, if only for a moment.

He leaned back in his seat, studying your expression with a knowing smile. “You know, Y/N, you don’t have to unload everything on me right now. You’re allowed to keep some things to yourself. You don’t owe anyone your pain.” His tone was light, but there was a deep, unspoken understanding beneath it. He knew you were struggling, and he wanted you to know that it was okay to take your time.

You gave him a small, tired smile, grateful for his patience. “I know, Pete. It’s just... hard to talk about. I’ve been so focused on work, it’s easier that way. It’s all I know.”

Peter nodded, his eyes softening with empathy. “I get it. But maybe it’s time to leave work behind, just for a little while. You don’t have to think about everything right now. Start small. Maybe try coming out of your room every once in a while?” He said it with a teasing grin, nudging your shoulder playfully, hoping to coax even the smallest laugh out of you.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head at his attempt to lighten the mood. “I know, I’ve been a bit of a hermit lately. I guess it’s easier to just shut myself away.”

Peter’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, lucky for you, your presence is strictly required at my welcome-back party tonight. The team’s putting it together, and you have no excuses not to come. I already told them you’d be there.”

You groaned, though there was no real annoyance behind it. “Seriously? Peter, I don’t know if I’m up for-”

He cut you off, holding up a hand. “Ah-ah, no excuses. We’ll be back by early afternoon, you’ll have plenty of time to rest, take a shower, and then you’re going to show up and have a good time, even if I have to drag you there myself.”

You rolled your eyes, but his enthusiasm was infectious. There was a warmth in his insistence, a reminder that you weren’t alone and that there was still joy to be found, even in the smallest of moments. “Fine, fine. I’ll be there. But only because you’re the most obnoxiously persistent person I know.”

Peter laughed, giving you a mock bow from his seat. “I’ll take that as a compliment. But seriously, Y/N, it’ll be good to see you outside of the office for once. We all miss you, and I promise, you’ll be glad you came.”

You nodded, feeling a small flicker of anticipation amidst the exhaustion. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to look forward to something that wasn’t work, something that didn’t involve endless reports or painful memories. It wasn’t a solution to all your problems, but it was a start—a chance to reconnect with the people who mattered, to take a breath and remember that there was more to life than the shadows that had been chasing you.

As you looked at Peter, his familiar smile reminding you of all the good things you’d shared over the years, you felt a small surge of hope. Maybe tonight wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The train ride back to Quantico had felt endless, but the weight of the unresolved emotions made the journey back to your apartment even more suffocating. Peter’s words lingered, tugging at wounds you hadn’t dared to touch, and Hotch’s distant presence weighed heavily on your mind. The familiar solitude of your apartment was supposed to be comforting, but tonight, it felt more like a reminder of all the things you’d been running from: your grief, your past, and the fragile, fraying connection with the person who had come to mean so much to you.

You dropped your bag onto the floor, letting it fall with a thud that echoed through the empty space. You leaned against the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface against your palms as you tried to ground yourself. You wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come. It was as if you’d locked them away, buried them beneath layers of duty and distraction.

But then there was a knock at your door, soft and tentative, almost like the person on the other side wasn’t sure they should be there. You hesitated, wiping at your eyes quickly as if to compose yourself, and moved to answer. You half-expected to find Peter, still worried about you after the train ride, or maybe even no one at all, just a mistake. But when you opened the door, it was Hotch who stood before you.

He looked different, more vulnerable and uncertain than you had ever seen him. His usually composed demeanor was frayed, and there was a rawness in his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights and heavy burdens. He stood there awkwardly, clutching the doorframe as if it were the only thing keeping him upright, his face etched with a mixture of hesitation and determination.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you like a fragile thread, one wrong move away from snapping. Hotch looked down, swallowing hard as if searching for the right words. He wasn’t in his usual pristine suit but rather dressed in a simple shirt and jeans, his attire as out of place as the uncertainty written across his face.

“Hotch?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, tinged with both surprise and concern. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he just looked at you, as if he was struggling to find the right words, struggling to let down the walls he had spent a lifetime building. He stepped inside, and you quietly closed the door behind him, your heart pounding as you waited for him to speak. He took a few slow steps into the living room, glancing around as if trying to ground himself in the unfamiliar space.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice strained and brittle, every word heavy with unspoken pain. “I know this isn’t… I shouldn’t have just shown up like this, but I needed to talk to you. About… about what you said last night, and today on the train. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overhear your conversation with Peter.”

This wasn’t the composed, confident man you knew at work, this was Aaron, someone you never got to see, someone who was barely holding it together. “ You were right, Y/N. You were right about everything.”

You stood there, frozen, as his words hit you like a wave. You had never heard Hotch sound so vulnerable, so broken. He was always the strong one, the unshakable agent who never let his guard down, but tonight, he was just Aaron, and he was struggling.

“I’ve spent my whole life trying to keep things separate,” he began, his voice trembling. “I thought if I could just focus on the work, I could ignore everything else—everything that hurt, everything that felt out of my control. But I can’t keep doing that. It’s not who I am, and it’s not who I want to be anymore.”

Hotch’s hands shook as he tried to steady himself, his eyes brimming with emotions he had kept buried for so long. “My father... he was abusive. He was cruel in ways that I can’t even put into words. He’d tear me apart with his words, his fists, anything to remind me that I was never good enough. I grew up in a house that felt more like a battlefield than a home, where silence was never safe and every day was just another fight to survive.”

His voice cracked, and you could see the weight of those memories in his eyes: the fear, the shame, the endless need to be perfect because nothing less would ever be enough for a man who thrived on control. “I tried so hard to protect my mom, my brother, but I was just a kid. There were nights when I’d lie awake, praying he’d leave us alone, praying I’d be strong enough to make it stop. But it never did. And I swore that when I grew up, I’d never be like him. I’d never let anyone see that weakness.”

You listened, your own tears finally breaking free as his pain washed over you. You had never imagined Hotch’s past had been so brutal, so deeply scarred by violence and fear. He had always seemed so put together, so composed, but now, you could see just how much he had been hiding, how much he had been carrying all this time.

“I thought if I kept that part of myself locked away, I’d be able to move on. I thought… I thought if I became Hotch, the profiler, that it would erase all the things he said I’d never be. But it’s just made me more closed off, more afraid to let anyone in. And I’ve been doing it for so long, I don’t even know how to stop.”

He looked at you, his eyes glassy with unshed tears, and you could see the desperation there - the plea for understanding, for forgiveness, for something he couldn’t quite name. “I don’t know how to let people in, Y/N. I don’t know how to not be this… this guarded version of myself. But if I’m going to try, if I’m going to let anyone see me, I want it to be you. Because you were right when you said I don’t know you, but I want to. And you deserve to know me, too—the real me.”

The vulnerability in his voice shattered something inside you, and without thinking, you closed the distance between you and pulled him into a tight, desperate hug. Hotch tensed at first, unaccustomed to such unguarded intimacy, but then his arms wrapped around you, and you could feel him finally letting go. His head bowed against your shoulder, and his entire frame shook with the silent sobs he’d been holding back for too long.

You clung to him, your own tears mingling with his, and in that moment, it felt like the dam you’d both been holding back had finally broken. You were no longer the stoic agents who always had the answers, always kept it together. You were just two people, scarred and hurting, trying to find solace in the only way you knew how: by holding on to each other.

Hotch’s hand moved to the back of your head, his fingers tangling gently in your hair as he held you closer, as if you were the lifeline he had been searching for. He whispered apologies between his tears, his voice cracking with the weight of his regrets. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… I didn’t see it. I didn’t see you.”

You shook your head, burying your face into his neck, your tears soaking through his t-shirt as you let out all the grief you’d kept buried: the loss of your father, the unresolved pain of your parents’ broken marriage, the way you had thrown yourself into work to keep from falling apart. You had been running for so long, hiding behind your accomplishments, just like him.

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Aaron,” you whispered through your tears, the use of his first name slipping out naturally in this moment of raw honesty. “I had no idea. I was so angry, and I—”

He shook his head, his voice soft but firm as he whispered back, “You don’t have to apologize. You were right… about all of it. I needed to hear it. I needed to face it.”

The two of you stood there for what felt like an eternity, wrapped up in each other’s pain and understanding, the weight of your shared burdens finally feeling just a little bit lighter. There were no perfect words, no easy fixes, but in that embrace, you found something neither of you had expected—comfort, solace, and the beginning of a new kind of trust.

“It’s okay,” you whispered through your tears, clutching him tighter. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”

For the first time, it felt like you were truly seen, truly understood, and the relief of it was overwhelming. You didn’t have to pretend anymore, didn’t have to be strong or perfect or put together. You could just be, and he could just be, and that was enough.

Hotch pulled back slightly, your eyes finally met, both of you still teary but no longer hiding. There was a silent understanding there, a promise that from now on, things would be different. “No more walls. No more hiding.” He murmured, his voice shaky but filled with a quiet determination.

You nodded, and for the first time in a long time, you believed it. You didn’t know what the future would hold, but as you held each other in that quiet, tear-stained moment, you knew that you weren’t alone anymore. You had each other, and that was a start. It was messy, and it was painful, but it was real. And in that, you found hope - hope that maybe, together, you could begin to heal. You weren’t just partners in the professional sense anymore; you were something more—two people learning to let each other in, to lean on each other’s strength when your own wasn’t enough. And in that simple, fragile moment, you both knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t have to face it alone, that your new friend would be right there at your side.

The evening had settled over the city, and the Irish pub next to your apartment block was buzzing with energy. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel a glimmer of lightness, excitement bubbling at the thought of spending time with Hotch, Peter, and the rest of your colleagues from the BAU. After everything that had happened, the weight of unresolved emotions had eased, if only slightly, and you found yourself looking forward to reconnecting with your team outside the pressures of the job.

Earlier that afternoon, you’d stopped by a bookstore, the small shop tucked between a row of cafes and boutique stores you often passed but rarely visited. As you browsed the shelves, your eyes fell on a book titled "Hegel for Dummies." It was a perfect, lighthearted gesture, a small symbol of your newfound friendship with Hotch, and a callback to the night you’d spent poring over Frank Lloyd Wright’s designs at the library. You thought that maybe, after his recent dive into architecture, he might take an interest in philosophy too, especially Hegel, one of your favorites. The book felt like a tiny olive branch, a way of letting him into your world a little more, just as he had let you into his the night before.

You imagined him reading it, piecing together Hegel’s ideas on thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, and maybe learning something about you in the process. And who knew? Maybe one day, if you were lucky, he’d hand you one of his favorite books, offering you another glimpse into the parts of himself he rarely showed.

When you walked into the pub, the warm light and chatter were an immediate comfort. You spotted your team at a long wooden table near the back, and to your surprise, you saw Gideon sitting there, crutches leaned against the wall, his leg injury having kept him out of the latest case. Rossi was beside him, the two of them looking as inseparable as ever, trading stories and laughs over pints of beer. It was a sight that immediately lifted your spirits.

“Look who finally made it!” Rossi called out, waving you over. “Come on, we saved you a seat.”

You grinned, making your way through the crowd. “Rossi, Gideon, you two didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

Gideon leaned back, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, you didn’t think we’d miss the party, did you? Besides, someone has to make sure Peter doesn’t get too full of himself.”

Peter shot you a wink, raising his glass in greeting. “They’re just here to bask in my glory, Y/N. But don’t let them fool you, they’ve been talking about you all night.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you took a seat between Gideon and Peter. “I’m sure they have. So, what did I miss?”

Before anyone could answer, Hotch walked in, his presence as commanding as ever, though there was a new softness in his eyes when he spotted you. You exchanged a smile, a silent acknowledgment of the night before, and of the steps you were both taking toward something new, something vulnerable.

“Hotch!” Rossi greeted, patting the empty seat beside him. “Come sit, we’re debating where Peter’s new desk should be. Since Y/N’s parked herself at his old one, we might need to reshuffle the whole bullpen.”

Hotch took his seat, glancing at you with a teasing smile. “I think she’s gotten too comfortable. I doubt she’s giving it up.”

Peter leaned in closer to you, his voice low and conspiratorial whispering into your ear “Wanna make a bet?” he asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “See that woman behind Hotch’s shoulder? If she doesn’t come talk to him, you get to keep your desk.”

You eyed the woman briefly, noticing her casual yet elegant demeanor, but she seemed engrossed in her own conversation. Hotch was engaged in a discussion with Rossi, showing no sign of noticing her. You were confident this would be an easy win, especially given Hotch’s typically reserved nature. “Alright,” you said, turning back to Peter. “And what do you get if you win?”

Peter’s grin widened, the playful edge in his voice unmistakable. “A date. With you.”

The unexpected proposition caught you off guard, and for a moment, you felt your cheeks warm. You glanced at him, trying to gauge if he was serious, but his expression remained light, teasing. You brushed it off with a laugh, pretending he was just messing with you. “Okay, you’re on.”

But no sooner had you accepted the bet than the woman, as if she had somehow overheard your conversation, moved toward Hotch with an expression of surprise. You watched in stunned silence as she approached, her voice soft and familiar. “Aaron? What were the odds?”

Your heart sank as Hotch’s face lit up, a rare and genuine smile crossing his features, his cheeks flushed slightly, and there was a familiarity between them that made your chest tighten. You felt Peter nudge you, his voice breaking through the shock. “Looks like you owe me a date.”

You barely registered his words, too fixated on the interaction unfolding in front of you. Hotch returned to the table with the woman by his side, her presence seeming to fill the room in a way that made you feel suddenly small and out of place. Hotch’s voice cut through the noise, introducing her with a casualness that belied the weight of the moment. “Everyone, this is Haley.”

You barely managed to hold your composure, the pieces of this unexpected puzzle falling into place as you processed Hotch’s flushed expression and the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. This wasn’t just anyone, this was someone from his past, someone who clearly was very close and definitely had shared some sort of romantic history with him. The bitter thoughts stung more than you wanted to admit.

Before you could say anything, Gideon, ever the observant one, leaned over, catching sight of the corner of a book sticking out of your open purse. “Hegel for Dummies?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, amusement flickering in his voice as he picked it up to inspect.

You nodded, still too stunned to fully engage, your mind elsewhere. “Yeah. It’s… it’s just a little joke,” you managed, though the words felt hollow in the moment.

Gideon smiled knowingly, his eyes shifting between you and Hotch. “Thesis, antithesis, and synthesis,” he mused, almost as if he were speaking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. “Funny how life always seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”

The words hung heavy in the air, and as you sat there, watching Hotch interact with Haley, you couldn’t help but feel the truth in them. Life was messy, a constant push and pull of opposing forces, and you were caught in the middle of it, trying to make sense of what it all meant.

[pretzel-box]

Chapter 2: The W in WcWonalds stands for Winning

Tags: Pure comedy

Words: 2,9k

“Allo, Allo. Allo! Pspspsps, Allo!” Casimir beamed brightly at the other man, holding up a small box labeled Paper Cups as if he’d just discovered the secret to life.

Allo, without lifting his head entirely from the ridiculously long newspaper that stretched halfway down the table, side-eyed Casimir and then glanced at the box. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow and sighed. “If you’re trying to sell me paper cups again, please know that I will dispose of them just like the last 23 you’ve tried to push on me.”

Casimir’s grin didn’t falter for even a second. In fact, it widened. He shook the box a little for emphasis. “Ah, but no, no, my friend. This is no ordinary box of paper cups. This is a box full of—”

“COKE!” Nick's voice suddenly boomed through the air, cutting Casimir off entirely. Nick barreled through a nearby patch of open water, waving frantically. “I WANT TO ORDER A COKE!”

In front of him, Cheshire was swimming as fast as possible, trying to escape whatever chaos Nick was trying to rope them into this time.

Casimir, still holding up the box, blinked and watched the scene unfold. He glanced at Allo, who hadn’t even bothered to look up from his paper.

“...Coke?” Casimir finally muttered, confused, before shaking it off and continuing his pitch. “Anyway, as I was saying, this box is full of—”

“I SAID, COKE!” Nick shouted again, now completely ignoring everyone else as he chased Cheshire around the water, determined to complete his non-existent order.

Casimir sighed dramatically, muttering under his breath. “Forget the paper cups. I should’ve invested in better staff members.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Allo raised an eyebrow, still clutching the ridiculously long newspaper but not actually reading it anymore. His tone was more of a dare than a question.

The inquiry alone set off a mischievous glint in Casimir’s eyes. Without hesitation, he shoved Allo off his seat and plopped down himself, ready to deliver a grand tale. “Ah, my friend, let me take you on a journey.”

And with that, a flashback started—whether anyone wanted it or not, everyone around them was suddenly pulled into it.

It was probably a Tuesday afternoon. Inside the community room, Sasha stood in the middle, notebook in hand, while Painter sat idly on top of a catering cart. Painter’s mobile body wasn’t quite ready yet, so Sasha, ever the problem-solver, had resorted to using the catering cart as his temporary mode of transportation.

“So, we should improve our quality of life by adding more human-like stuff,” Sasha declared, placing her notebook down on Painter, who quietly blinked.

Painter, who was basically a high-tech computer with personality, hummed thoughtfully. “The system suggests that a quality improvement for life would involve... good food. Good food is essential for a good atmosphere.”

Casimir’s voice echoed through the flashback, narrating as if this were an epic saga. “Ah, but of course, this suggestion was the catalyst for everything. The search for 'good food' began, and soon, chaos would follow.”

Back in the present, Allo had stopped pretending to care about the newspaper. He stared blankly at Casimir. "This is all about food?"

Casimir nodded solemnly, but before he could continue the saga, another loud “COKE!” came from Nick, still sprinting through the water, causing Cheshire to swim faster to escape.

"Of course, it always starts with food," Casimir said dramatically, pointing at Nick as if this proved his point entirely. "And ends with—"

Before Casimir could finish, Angela stormed into the scene, hands on her hips, glaring at everyone. "WHAT is going on here?! Do you think this is a playground?! Nick! Stop shouting about Coke! Cheshire, stop encouraging him! And you—" She pointed at Casimir, who tried his best to look innocent. "Stop throwing people off chairs and starting flashbacks without warning!"

Casimir blinked, then grinned sheepishly. "Oh... mother mode, activated."

“Ah, Allo, I’m sorry for startling you,” Angela’s tone switched in an instant, going from stern to soft and motherly. Amilia paddled up behind her, making her way onto land before plopping down next to Casimir.

Casimir pouted dramatically, folding his arms. “I wasn’t done—”

But Angela, ever so gently, took over, and like some sort of magical spell, we were all once again pulled into another flashback.

“I know the perfect source for good food,” Cordelia’s voice rang out confidently as she entered, a spotlight somehow illuminating her entrance. She strutted down a random set of stairs, stepping into the room with the energy of a magical girl lead. Without hesitation, she squished herself between Sasha and Painter, striking a pose. “McDonald's!”

“McDonald’s? We can’t do that. It has a copyright,” Painter deadpanned, his digital voice full of skepticism.

“WcWonalds...?” Sasha offered, her voice uncertain but filled with hope. The suggestion hit Cordelia like a revelation, her eyes lighting up in awe.

“WcWonalds!” Cordelia repeated, as if it were the most groundbreaking idea in existence.

Angela of the past, shook her head at the absurdity, watching the scene play out with a mixture of fondness and exasperation. "You all really are impossible." She sighed, but it was the kind of sigh a mother gives after realizing her kids are too far gone in their antics.

The flashback ended, and the moment Angela wanted to continue, another person came crashing into the room.

“Lord Commander, oh mighty WcWonalds leader, Casimir. René started a fire in the kitchen, innocent fries are burning.” Cyrus called out, his neat little WcWonalds uniform was now covered in soot.

Casimir blinked, before sighing. “What about the Walkie Talkie I gave you?”

“It fell victim to the fryer, it is now among the burning pommes.”

Casimir took the paper cup box, opened it and revealed a set of Walkie Talkies, sponsored by Sebastian. He threw a new one to Cyrus, not noticing that Angela snatched one for herself too out of the box.

Amelia wanted to grab one too, trying to fish one out with her mouth but Angela kept her in place, shaking silently her head.

The WcWonalds—formerly an abandoned cafeteria near the community room—had become a gathering spot for anyone seeking mischief or simply trying to avoid responsibilities. Dusty tables were half-cleaned, the counters lined with mismatched kitchen gadgets that looked like they'd been scavenged from a dump. The old sign out front, haphazardly covered with duct tape, now proudly read “WcWonalds,” a creation of Cordelia’s, still beaming over her brilliant copyright dodge.

Inside, chaos reigned as usual. Painter rolled around on his squeaky, upgraded cart, stationed behind the cash register, which refused to stay closed no matter how hard he tried. Cordelia, wearing a lampshade turned into a hat, was overseeing the operation with the air of someone who believed they were running a legitimate establishment. Meanwhile, Cheshire, who escaped Nick, sat at the counter, arms crossed and half-amused as he watched the antics unfold.

The whole group could stay at the restaurant without drying out thanks to the fact that most of the area is damaged, flooded or just naturally having water leaks.

"So, today’s special is...” Painter’s robotic voice paused dramatically as he calculated, “...whatever isn’t expired in the back fridge."

Cheshire leaned back, smirking. “Ah, the usual, then. Can’t wait to see what’s alive back there.”

René, wearing a firefighter’s helmet after their most recent mishap in the kitchen, walked in with a slightly dazed look on their face. They wails, afraid of setting anything else on fire.

Meanwhile Cordelia shouted: “Has anyone seen the toaster oven? I’m pretty sure it disappeared after I used it to heat up some fries.”

Security, leaning against the counter with her tail in a small bucket of water, waved her off. “It’s probably with the deep fryer. I saw it lurking under the sink last time I checked.”

“Right, the deep fryer incident,” Painter muttered, his mechanical voice tinged with guilt. “It... uh... exploded during ‘Experiment 12.’”

Sasha, sitting at a booth with her notebook, raised an eyebrow. “Wait, what was ‘Experiment 12’ again? I don’t have that one listed.”

“Oh, you missed that,” Cheshire replied dryly. “They wanted to see if you could fry fries twice and make them better. Spoiler alert: no.”

As the conversation carried on, René started rummaging through the kitchen, pulling out random items and tossing them aside in search of the toaster. A large jar of pickles rolled across the floor, narrowly missing Security's bucket.

Cordelia, taking her managerial role way too seriously, slapped her hands together. “Alright, people! Time to focus. What’s the WcWonalds slogan again?”

Painter beeped softly before saying, “We can’t get sued if we don’t sell anything.”

Cheshire chuckled. “That’s the spirit.”

A group of new "customers" wandered into WcWonalds, looking both curious and mildly confused. Asterion, with his usual stoic expression, led the way, followed by Tapu, who was already trying to hold back laughter at the sight of the makeshift restaurant. Hanako peered in shyly from the doorway with Yuri, still unsure about the whole situation, and Osiris trailed behind, looking far too regal for the mess she was about to step into.

Cordelia, now fully embracing her self-proclaimed manager status, puffed out her chest and called for order. She turned dramatically toward Security, who was leaning against the wall, half-asleep, with her arms crossed still in the same bucket.

“You! Nr. 7! Bring the customers to a table!” Cordelia ordered, finger pointing like an overly enthusiastic drill sergeant.

Security, who hadn’t moved a muscle in response, slowly raised an eyebrow and shifted her gaze to Cordelia. “Nr. 7? Did you just call me by a number?”

Without missing a beat, Cordelia nodded, clearly proud of herself. “Of course. It’s the official WcWonalds ranking system. You’re number seven.”

Security blinked, her expression unchanging. “And who decided I’m number seven?”

“I did. Obviously,” Cordelia said matter-of-factly. “Now, do your job, or you’ll be demoted to number... uh... 13. Which is bad.”

Security exhaled slowly, clearly unimpressed but too tired to argue. “And why, exactly, is being number 13 bad?”

Cordelia hesitated for a second. “Because... because... that’s the person who has to clean the fridge. And trust me, no one wants that job.”

Painter, from behind the register, beeped in agreement. “The probability of someone finding a sentient yogurt in there is approximately 73%. Proceed with caution.”

Tapu burst out laughing, slapping Asterion on the back. “Did you hear that? Sentient yogurt! I knew this place was special!”

Asterion, as stoic as ever, just grunted and found a seat, looking like a king who had been forced to dine in a peasant’s tavern. Osiris, meanwhile, eyed the tables with disdain before gingerly sitting down, making sure to inspect the chair first as if it might crumble beneath her.

Hanako, still lingering by the door, quietly murmured, “Is it safe in here?” While Yuri tried to spot an open seat that didn't scream danger.

Cheshire, who had been watching the whole interaction from the counter, leaned over and grinned. “Safe? Sure. But I wouldn’t drink anything from the soda machine. Last time we used it, it started spewing foam... and that was three weeks ago.”

Hanako blinked, now even more hesitant to step inside. “I... I’ll just sit by the window,” she mumbled, sliding into a booth far away from the chaos. Yuri followed her with a nod, feeling rather comfortable in the flooded part of the facility.

Cordelia, completely oblivious to the growing unease of her guests, clapped her hands. “Alright, everyone! We’re a well-oiled machine here! Number 7—uh, Security—get them some menus!”

Security just sighed and grabbed a pile of random, crumpled papers from behind the counter, tossing them on the nearest table. “Here. The ‘menu.’ Good luck.”

Tapu unfolded one of the papers and raised an eyebrow. “This is... a takeout flyer from a Chinese place. And it’s from last year.”

Cordelia beamed. “Exactly! Our food transcends time and space. We don't need real menus! Just... feel the vibe of what you want to eat like royalty. Customer is King.”

Painter whirred. “Vibes detected: 99% likelihood of disappointment.”

Osiris, completely unamused, stared down at the so-called "menu" before deadpanning, “I’m royalty. I do not 'feel the vibe' of my food. I expect a menu, and I expect service.”

Cordelia shot her with finger guns. “And that’s exactly what you’re gonna get! Just... not today.”

At that, Tapu couldn’t hold it in anymore. She slapped her hand on the table, cackling. “This is the worst place I’ve ever been, and I love it.”

Asterion leaned back in his chair, folding his arms, his usual grim demeanor cracking slightly. “This is what passes for ‘good food’ around here? No wonder half of them look malnourished.”

Cordelia, not one to be defeated, marched up to Painter. “Alright, get the food ready! What’s the special of the day?”

Painter beeped a few times before announcing, “Special of the day: leftover fries and... one singular chicken nugget.”

Tapu snorted. “One nugget? How generous.”

Cordelia, determined not to lose her managerial swagger, nodded confidently. “It’s a gourmet experience. We serve... minimalist portions.”

Osiris groaned, rubbing her temples. “I demand real food.”

From somewhere in the back, René’s voice wailed which kinda meant, “I FOUND THE TOASTER!”

A loud crash followed, and smoke started wafting out from the kitchen, followed by René stumbling out, their firefighter’s helmet askew. Sasha called out after seeing the smoke. “Uh, minor issue. The toaster may have... uh... caught fire. Again.”

Tapu slapped the table again, this time harder. “Best. Restaurant. Ever.”

Asterion simply sighed as Hanako slid further down into her booth, now reconsidering every decision that had led her to this point.

The whole room felt like it was about to collapse in chaos until, suddenly, Allo ascended from a random hole in the kitchen floor like some culinary deity. He stood there, glowing (probably from the fryer grease) and with an aura of absurd authority.

"Did someone say my name?"

Everyone shook their heads so fast, you’d think they were auditioning for a shampoo commercial. The denials came quickly from all corners.

"Nope."

"Definitely not."

"Not even a whisper."

Allo, completely unbothered, smirked. “Too bad, because now I am here!” His arms shot up dramatically, as if commanding the forces of fast food. “Tag Team, assembly!”

From behind some very suspiciously placed lockers came a loud bang, as they burst open to reveal his “elite squad”:

First up was Nautilea. She marched out, looking sharp in her pressed WcWonalds uniform and glasses. "Looks smart, is smart. Can handle the cash register with her eyes closed and your order with care. But only if you have insurance!"

Yuri raised an eyebrow. "Insurance? For what exactly?"

"Existential dread," Painter beeped quietly from the register.

Next was Roxy, who strutted out balancing six plates in one hand, all perfectly stacked. "Our talented waitress! Can carry your entire order on one arm and balance a stack of pancakes on her head! But," Cordelia added dramatically, "if you complain... she’ll give you extra service by spitting on the food you didn’t order."

Roxy cracked her knuckles, eyeing Osiris. “Try me.”

She immediately looked away.

Finally, Violet stumbled out, looking more confused than anyone else. “Violet, our in-house therapist,” Cordelia introduced, clapping her hands. “She didn’t apply for the job—she got kidnapped! But now, she leads the therapy sessions required after your visit to WcWonalds. Free and anonymous... except for the fact that they’re televised. So, not anonymous anymore!”

Violet waved weakly. “I’m still not sure how I got here... but I’m rolling with it.”

Suddenly, a blaring red light filled the room, accompanied by the wail of a siren. Everyone jumped to attention.

“The WcWonalds emergency alarm!” Allo shouted over the noise. “A starving customer in need!” His voice was dripping with the intensity of a chef who had just been challenged to a cooking duel.

Without missing a beat, Allo swooped over to the one remaining chicken nugget, lying lonely and pathetic on the counter. With the precision of a master, he sliced it into thin strips. Then, with a sprinkle of some mysterious dust (was it seasoning? Magic? No one knew), he popped the strips into the microwave for precisely 10 seconds.

When the microwave dinged, he pulled out the tray, revealing what could only be described as the world’s finest chicken chili wraps. The wrap glistened, like it had been blessed by the gods of fast food themselves.

The crowd erupted into applause. Asterion even managed to clap once, though begrudgingly.

Allo handed the plate to Roxy, who balanced it with ease. “Delivery time!” she called out before kicking it toward Violet.

Violet, with surprising grace, caught the plate mid-air, throwing it again to Nautilea who catched it. “Wrap, incoming!” she yelled, throwing it toward the door just as Sebastian stepped inside.

SMACK.

The wrap hit him square in the face, various ingredients slopping down his clothes in slow motion. He stood frozen in the doorway, staring in bewilderment as shredded lettuce and chili sauce dripped off his nose and splattered on the floor.

The room went silent for a beat.

Sebastian blinked. "What... in the name of Urbanshade...?"

Tapu, unable to hold it in any longer, burst into laughter, slapping the table. "Best... restaurant... EVER!"

Painter's voice chimed in softly from the register, “Current vibe level: chaotic excellence.”

Then Angela came in, carrying Amilia on her arms and giving Sebastian a glance. Amilia sniffed on Sebastian before giving him a soft kick.

“YOU ALL ARE SO GROUNDED.”

WcWonalds got force closed after this day. And this was the end of Allos wonderful job as a chef. Now he was just Allo, the man that never got to fulfill his dreams.

[arceespinkgun]

I'm sorry for this since I do hate how overrated he is in general, but I really wanted to make a post getting out my love for Prowl in the TF UK comics. He is just so clearly the best, most definitive version of the character in my opinion! Somehow, so many of the funniest moments from this continuity are Prowl-related and many of his quotes live rent-free in my head?! From jumping on a missile, to yelling at Jetfire in one of the Christmas specials ("You almost break the world record... FOR STANDING STILL!"), to thinking Jazz saying something will be "a piece of cake" is literal, that one time he yelled "SHUT UP!!!" at the Autobots and Decepticons and then added a tiny "please" afterward...!

And in my opinion the funniest panel in all of the comics is a Prowl panel where he thinks Grimlock is dumb as a brick and imagines a literal brick!

IIRC Prowl's introduction to the comics showed him trying to suggest other options than suicide when the Ark gets attacked only for Optimus to immediately ignore him, which really sets the tone for that dynamic. I was pretty surprised to see that Optimus (and later Grimlock, who is generally hilariously awful) are incredibly unstable leaders and that in almost every case I took Prowl's side in his arguments with them...?

When I say "unstable," I really mean it

He isn't perfect, but he seemed to just want to the War to end and then stay ended from what I could tell. I kind of get the sense that a fandom in-joke about Prowl being a prick may have gotten overstated and led to Prowl actually being extremely obnoxious and immoral in things like IDW, since to me here he really came across more like a character who's justified in being irritated by how other people, normally his superiors, are acting because they're endangering others. Near the end of the comics, I really didn't like that Prowl was very much treated as being wrong for trying to get it through Grimlock's thick metal skull that Decepticons are people too? This isn't going to make sense for people who haven't read these issues, but to me it felt like Grimlock was shirking his duties as a leader and then setting Prowl up to fail to teach him a lesson the hard way, and it felt pretty cruel are overly edgy to me and not in-line with how Autobot and Decepticon dynamics were portrayed earlier. I know I'm biased, but I personally thought it was brave that Prowl stood up to Grimlock, the way Blaster had much earlier on.

Going into these comics, I was really expecting to see a precursor to IDW Prowl or something, and I feel like I was misled! This version of the character feels almost like what IDW Prowl thought he was like. In the final annual story of this continuity, when Optimus actually apologizes for brushing Prowl off and explains that he's just been struggling emotionally (there's even a moment where it says, "Prowl gaped. Not only was he getting an apology, he was also getting an explanation," which really shows what kind of character Prowl is) and Optimus then says it's an honor to work with Prowl, I think I said "awww" out loud!!! And I thought it was hilarious that Prowl was so moved that he imagined a lump in his throat LMAO

"There's a ship fuelled and ready to life off, the assault team and medical crew are aboard. Prowl, I would be… honoured if you would join us," said Prime." And with that he extended a hand for Prowl to shake. There was a frozen moment or two before Prowl grabbed the proffered hand, pumping it. So charged with emotion was the moment, Prowl actually imagined a lump in a throat that he didn't possess!

I also thought Prowl was just as badass as he was hilarious: I loved it when Galvatron targeted Autobots including Prowl for having "mental flaws" by trying to use those to brainwash them into serving him and then Prowl's response was to just attack him and be like, "You forgot that we Autobots REPRESS our feelings!!!" Prowl was one of only three Autobots who ended up alive in the AU story "Rhythms of Darkness!" And he also once went back in time and had to relive his own destruction in order to stop Megatron, who he knocked out with a punch to the face:

(It's Megatron possessing Snap Trap's body). This "Prime?!" "Nope—Prowl!" *punches him in the face* is such an iconic moment to me

Prowl also has a great backstory and was even a veteran before Optimus Prime was ever leader! You can read about that in my Jazz analysis post since they share a backstory. Prowl led a team who went around freeing Decepticon-controlled territories early in the War, and was one of the most dreaded Autobots! Not this is what I like—Prowl being a "terrorist" only in the eyes of the oppressors, not a civil terrorist in peacetime like in IDW! I think it's pretty likely that Prowl's type-A personality and intense sense of responsibility was probably informed a lot by his trauma on one of those early missions going so horribly wrong, since he seems to have behaved differently back then:

Prowl leaned over to Jazz. "Did we do okay?" he asked uncertainly, hoping Jazz wouldn't interpret this as weakness. As team leader, Prowl worried constantly that he would foul up, make some decision that would end up costing lives: theirs as well as others.

I think I'm not the only one who thinks sometimes having a favorite transformer who's really popular but it's only a couple of iterations that you're not interested in (nothing against TFA Prowl at all, I like him, I'm just very neutral on TFA the show), while almost nobody seems to know about the iteration you like and what you like about the character, can sometimes feel like a bit of a curse lol That's why I felt like sharing all of this!

[tellmegoodbye]

Hello everyone,

Happy LONE STAR DAY!!

I have a few housekeeping things to talk about before I return to our usual Music Monday format, but I know we're all excited for tonight so I will try to keep this brief.

If you would like to check out our playlist for the countdown event you can find that here.

Since we are getting new episodes now, I thought it would be a cool idea for a new way to participate in the tag. If you have a song that you relate to the new episodes, share them with us!

Please continue to refer to this post for any new Music Monday info, or if you just need a refresher on how the tag works.

Here's a quick overview of what Music Monday is for those of you who are new here. You share your songs that you relate to the show, its characters, storylines, fanfics, etc. All songs are added to their respective playlists and your explanations are added to the docs I have created for each playlist.

Reminder: Make sure to either tag me in your posts OR you can use the 911ls music mondays tag so that I can find and reblog your contributions.

Okay, now that we've got that out of the way, onto my songs for the week!

---

Leave Out All The Rest - Linkin Park

I dreamed I was missing You were so scared But no one would listen Cause no one else cared After my dreaming I woke with this fear What am I leaving When I'm done here?

Don't be afraid I've taken my beating I've shared what I've made I'm strong on the surface Not all the way through I've never been perfect But neither have you So, if you're asking me, I want you to know

When my time comes Forget the wrong that I've done Help me leave behind some reasons to be missed And don't resent me And when you're feeling empty Keep me in your memory Leave out all the rest

This song is a reflection on the way we live our lives and how we will be remembered when we're gone. When I think about these lyrics in the context of Lone Star, they could really apply to any character, but Gabriel is who specifically comes to my mind for this song.

To me, this is Gabriel's message to Carlos. He's spent a lot of time reflecting on his own mistakes and has struggled to express the love he has for his son, but he hopes that Carlos will remember him as someone who never stopped trying and who always strived to be better. He didn't always get it right, but he looks at Carlos and feels so much love and pride, and he wants Carlos to know that and to see that.

Zzyzx Rd. - Stone Sour

Propped up by lies and promises Saving my place as life forgets Maybe it's time I saw the world

I'm only here for a while But patience is not my style And I'm so tired that I gotta go

What am I supposed to hide now? What am I suppose to do? Did you really think I wouldn't see this through Tell me I should stick around for you Tell me I could have it all I'm still too tired to care and I gotta go

I'm over existing in limbo I'm over the myths and placebos I don't really mind if I just fade away

I'm ready to live with my family I'm ready to die in obscurity 'Cause I'm so tired that I gotta go

This is a song written from the perspective of someone struggling with addiction. The narrator addresses his loved ones with a sort of brutal honesty about his feelings towards life, but it's also a song about love and support at the same time. It's about someone who is there for you even when you're in your worst moments and can't see a way out.

This song reminds me of TK and Owen in s1. Owen is ready to do whatever he has to do in order to help TK, and TK lets him in as much as he can, but these lyrics are also an realistic viewpoint on the state of his mental health in the aftermath of his suicide attempt. He knows Owen loves him and is there for him, but he still needs to find that healing outside of that support.

Impossible - Nothing But Thieves

Love, it stings and then it laughs At every beat of my battered heart A sudden jolt, a tender kiss I know I'm gonna die of this And that's because

I could drown myself in someone like you I could dive so deep I never come out I thought it was impossible But you make it possible

I'll take the smooth with the rough Feels so fucked up to be in love Another day, another night Stuck in my own head but you pull me out You pull me out

I really hit y'all with a couple angsty gems today, so I should probably round this post out with a more upbeat song. This song screams Tarlos to me, and reminds me of the early days of their relationship where everything is new and overwhelming, but it also just feels right at the same time. They've come to that realization that what they have is something special, and that they might have found their soulmate. Before they met, such a notion felt impossible to them.

@strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @bonheur-cafe @heartstringsduet @herefortarlos

Tags!

@eclectic-sassycoweyes @literateowl @carlos-tk @paperstorm @guardian-angle22

@ironheartwriter @emsprovisions @sapphic--kiwi @whatsintheboxmh @firstprince-history-huh

@nancys-braids @captain-gillian @alrightbuckaroo @theghostofashton @sweettkstrand

@toomanycupsoftea @corsage @certifiedflower @goldenskykaysani @reeeallygood

+ open tag

please tell me if you would like to be added/removed from my tag list

[hederasgarden]

hi ivy!!

do you have any headcanons about how Walter Marshall would react to the reader bringing home a new puppy? would he melt? would he be a grump about it?

🐶

Hello Elle!

This is such a cute request! Hope this hits the spot!

Maybe in this scenario, you work from home and have been dropping hints about wanting a dog for a while, but Walter, ever the stubborn one, refuses to take the bait. So, you reach out to his good buddy Syverson for help in finding the perfect little companion—someone cuddly and sweet who can also take on an intruder. 

When Walter arrives home, you greet him at the door wearing that pretty sundress that drives him wild, flashing your most enthusiastic smile. He gives you the sternest look as you hand over the squirming ball of fur. While you excitedly explain why this is such a fantastic idea, insisting that Syverson picked out the dog for its perfect temperament, the puppy wiggles in Walter's arms, desperately trying to lick his face.

“So, can we keep him?” you ask, clasping your hands together in front of you in a way that accentuates your breast in the dress. The first sign that you've won is the way his gaze strays briefly to the sight and his tongue drags against his bottom lip. Then he sighs deeply and accepts his defeat.

You know Walter is a practical guy, always worrying about the added responsibility and how a puppy might disrupt his routine so you make sure you take care of everything. You handle all the care, feeding, and training (with Syverson’s help).

Maybe Walter even gets a little jealous over all the time you spend with the dog. When he finds you cuddling on the couch, he scoops up the puppy to settle down beside you. Of course, the puppy happily snuggles right up to him. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Walter hesitating for a moment before finally resting a hand on the dog’s back. Before long, he’s gently petting him and scratching behind those fluffy ears.

As the puppy grows, Walter starts taking him on morning runs and when he goes grocery shopping, you find more dog treats in the pantry than strictly necessary. He'd never admit that he loves your dog but it isn't hard to tell how he really feels, especially once you come home late one night and find them snuggled in bed together. You snap a photo of the two of them that becomes your new background. When Walter sees it, he lets out a sigh, but you catch the brief twitch at the corner of his lip, a sign that he’s secretly pleased.

Wanna hear some Henry Cavill character headcanons? Send me an ask!

Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

[unabashegirl]

Fragments 2 — one shot

Harry runs into Y/N in Japan. She is his ex and she is seeking closure.

Author's note: Hello everyone! I've been holding the final part bc I feel like you are all going to hate me or love me for the ending and I am scared! Please don't hate me! I hope you enjoy!

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all chapters, various one shots like The Cover and much more :)

Please note that everything that is both underlined and italicized is from the past—they are flashbacks!

word count: 3.9K

--------------------------------

The kitchen filled with the gentle sound of slicing knives and the rhythmic motions of rice being pressed into nori. The chef’s voice was calm and patient as he guided them through the process, but Y/N and Harry remained mostly silent, their focus turned inward as they worked. The only other sound was the soft, traditional music playing in the background, adding to the atmosphere of quiet reflection.

Y/N carefully rolled the sushi, her movements precise as she tried to concentrate on the task at hand. She could feel Harry’s presence beside her, his silent focus mirroring her own. They moved in tandem, following the chef’s instructions, but there was a tension in the air, a heaviness that neither could ignore.

When the last roll was finally placed on the bamboo mat, the chef stepped back with a satisfied smile. “Very well done,” he praised, nodding to both of them. “You have a natural talent for this.”

Y/N gave a small, polite smile in return, glancing at Harry who nodded in agreement, though his eyes seemed distant. The chef clapped his hands together lightly, signaling the end of the lesson.

“I will leave you both to enjoy the fruits of your labor,” the chef said warmly. “Please, take your time. It has been an honor to teach you.”

With that, he bowed and quietly excused himself from the room, leaving them alone with their carefully crafted sushi rolls.

Y/N stood there for a moment, her eyes lingering on the perfectly arranged sushi before them. The silence that followed the chef’s departure felt louder, more suffocating. She could feel the weight of unsaid words pressing down on her, but she wasn’t sure how to break through the barrier that had formed between them.

Harry was the first to move, picking up a pair of chopsticks and carefully selecting a piece of sushi. He looked at her then, his gaze searching, as if trying to find something in her expression. “Shall we?” he asked, his voice soft but carrying an undertone of uncertainty.

Y/N nodded, reaching for her own chopsticks, but her hands trembled slightly as she did. She felt his eyes on her, watching, waiting for something—maybe for her to say the words that neither of them had yet found the courage to speak.

They ate in silence, the sushi as perfect as the chef had promised, but it was difficult to enjoy it with the thick tension in the air. The music played on, soothing and distant, a stark contrast to the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

The silence between them grew unbearable, stretching out like an unspoken challenge neither of them wanted to confront. Harry set down his chopsticks, the clatter against the plate louder than it should have been in the quiet room. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers rubbing at his temples as if trying to ease away the tension that had built up over the course of the afternoon.

Y/N noticed his sudden stillness, her heart rate quickening as she sensed the shift in the atmosphere. She watched him, her chopsticks frozen in mid-air, her breath catching as she waited for him to speak. There was something in his eyes—something dark, conflicted—that made her stomach churn with a mix of fear and anticipation.

Harry finally met her gaze, his eyes filled with a depth of sorrow that she hadn’t seen before. His voice, when he spoke, was strained, as if the words were being torn from somewhere deep inside him. “I guess it’s time to tell you”

She blinked, her chest tightening at the seriousness in his tone. “What is it?” she asked, though she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as they rested on the table. “The reason I distanced myself,” he began, his voice cracking with the weight of what he was about to confess, “was because I… I did something.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her mind racing as she tried to comprehend what he was saying. “What do you mean?” she whispered, dread settling in her stomach.

Harry looked away, his jaw clenched as if he could barely bring himself to continue. “I cheated on you,” he finally admitted, his words laced with a deep, agonizing guilt. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it did. And when I realized what I’d done… I couldn’t face you. I couldn’t look you in the eyes knowing how much I’d hurt you.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath Y/N’s feet, the shock of his confession hitting her like a physical blow. Her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, each one cutting deeper than the last as she struggled to process his words. She could barely breathe, the pain in her chest so intense that she thought it might suffocate her.

“You… you cheated on me?” she repeated, her voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and raw, searing hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you just pushed me away?”

“I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you more than I already had,” Harry confessed, his voice heavy with regret. “I thought if I distanced myself, if I just… distanced myself, it would be easier for you. That maybe you could hate me and move on, without having to see my face and be reminded of what I did.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, blurring her vision as the reality of his betrayal settled in. “So instead of being honest with me, you let me believe it was something else—something I did wrong?” she asked, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “You let me think I wasn’t enough for you?”

Harry winced, the guilt in his eyes deepening as he heard the pain in her voice. “I know I messed up, Y/N. I know I made it worse by not telling you. But I was scared. I was a coward.”

Y/N’s hands shook as she wiped away the tears that had started to fall, her heart breaking all over again as she realized how deeply he had hurt her. “You should have told me,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You should have let me decide how to feel, how to move on. Instead, you just… left me in the dark.”

She walked through the living room, her steps light and tentative as if trying not to disturb the heavy silence that hung between her and Harry. He was seated on the large, plush sofa, a thick blanket draped over his legs as he stared intently at the flickering screen of his laptop. His eyes were focused, but his posture was rigid, every line of his body radiating a cold detachment that Y/N found hard to ignore.

“H,” she began softly, her voice breaking the silence like a tentative knock on a closed door. “I was thinking of making some hot cocoa. Do you want some?”

Harry didn’t look up from his laptop, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard. “No, thanks,” he replied curtly, his voice devoid of warmth. “I’m busy.”

Y/N’s heart sank at his response, but she tried to keep her tone upbeat, forcing a small smile as she turned towards the kitchen. “Okay, Just let me know if you change your mind.”

She busied herself with the cocoa, the rhythmic sound of the milk heating and the clinking of the spoon against the mug providing a small, soothing distraction. She could hear Harry’s muffled voice as he spoke into his phone, his words barely audible over the hum of the appliances. The conversation was brief, and when he hung up, he remained seated, his focus returning to the laptop.

As Y/N walked back into the living room with her steaming mug, she hesitated for a moment before taking a seat at the opposite end of the sofa. She tried to find a comfortable position, but the distance between them felt insurmountable.

Harry,” she said after a few minutes, her voice trembling slightly as she attempted to bridge the gap. “Can we talk? I feel like we haven’t really spent any time together lately. So, I was planning perhaps we could spend the weekend at my parents cabin outside of the city. I’ve already asked for the keys”.

He glanced at her briefly, his expression impassive. “I can’t this weekend,” he said, his tone clipped. “I’ve got a lot on my plate. Maybe later.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, but she nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. “Alright”.

She took a sip of her cocoa, the warmth of the drink contrasting sharply with the chill she felt in the room. The silence stretched on, punctuated only by the soft clacking of Harry’s keyboard and the occasional rustle of his papers. Y/N watched him from across the room, her heart aching as she saw the man she loved becoming more and more distant.

Time passed slowly, each minute dragging as Y/N tried to fill the silence with small, meaningless activities—flipping through a magazine, tidying up the living room, adjusting the throw pillows on the sofa. She would glance at Harry every now and then, hoping to catch his eye, to see a sign of the warmth they once shared. But each time, she was met with a cold, unfeeling stare.

Eventually, she stood up, unable to bear the distance any longer. She walked to the window, looking out at the city lights that seemed so distant and unreachable. Her reflection in the glass was a stark reminder of how far apart they had grown, and the sight of her own lonely figure only deepened her sense of isolation.

Y/N took a deep breath, gathering her courage. “Harry,” she said softly, her voice trembling with the effort to keep it steady. “I know things have been hard lately, but I miss us”.

Harry’s eyes opened slowly, and he looked at her with a mixture of fatigue and frustration. “I don’t know if we can fix this,” he said quietly.

The sadness in his voice cut through Y/N like a knife, and she could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. “But I’m willing to try. For us”.

Harry looked at her, and for a moment, she got a glimpse of his old self. But then, he closed his eyes and pulled away slightly, the emotional distance between them reasserting itself. “I don’t know if I can,” he said softly.

“I know,” Harry said, his voice thick with emotion. “I was wrong, and I’m so sorry. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. But I need you to know that it meant nothing. It was a mistake—a stupid, drunken mistake—and it never changed how much I loved you.”

Y/N shook her head, the ache in her chest almost unbearable. “But it did change things, Harry. It changed everything. You broke us… and you broke me.”

Harry’s eyes filled with tears, the sight of her in so much pain almost too much for him to bear. He reached out, wanting to comfort her, but Y/N flinched away, the hurt too fresh, too raw.

“Don’t,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she pulled back. “You don’t get to touch me, not after this.”

The rejection hit Harry like a punch to the gut, but he knew he deserved it. He had made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he repeated, his voice barely holding together. “I wish I could take it back. I wish I could undo everything and go back to the way things were.”

But Y/N could only shake her head, the tears streaming down her face as the reality of their situation sank in. The man she had loved so deeply, the man she had trusted with her heart, had betrayed her in the worst possible way. And now, there was nothing left but the broken pieces of what they once had.

Y/N sat there, tears streaming down her face as she tried to come to terms with the bombshell Harry had just dropped on her. Every part of her wanted to scream, to throw the pain back in his face, to make him feel even a fraction of the hurt he had caused her. But all she could do was sit there, numb and hollow, as the man she once loved shattered everything she thought she knew about their relationship.

Harry’s own tears were falling now, silent and slow, as he watched her break before his eyes. He had expected anger, yelling, even hatred—but this quiet devastation was worse. It was the kind of pain that didn’t have an outlet, that didn’t have a voice. It just lingered, suffocating them both in its grip.

“Say something,” Harry finally whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his guilt. “Please, Y/N… anything.”

But what was there to say? What words could possibly convey the depth of the betrayal she felt? Y/N looked at him, really looked at him, and saw a man who was just as broken as she was. The realization hit her like a tidal wave—he was drowning in his own regret, but that didn’t make what he did any less unforgivable.

“You want me to say something?” she finally replied, her voice eerily calm despite the chaos inside her. “Fine. I loved you, Harry. More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my entire life. I would have done anything for you, given you everything. And you threw it all away for… what? For a night of wild sex?”

Harry flinched at her words, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. “It wasn’t worth it,” he choked out, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know that now. But at the time, I was just… lost. I was struggling with the pressure, the expectations, and I messed up. And I hate myself for it every single day.”

“Good,” Y/N said sharply, her eyes blazing with the anger she had been holding back. “You should hate yourself. Because you didn’t just hurt me—you destroyed me. You made me question everything, made me question if you ever loved me”.

Her words sliced through Harry like a knife, each one cutting deeper than the last. “I loved you.” he whispered desperately. “I love you. I was the one who wasn’t enough. I was weak, and I let my insecurities and fears ruin the best thing that ever happened to me.”

Y/N’s tears fell faster now, the anger and heartbreak swirling together in a storm she couldn’t control. “You should have come to me,” she cried, her voice breaking. “You should have trusted me, talked to me, instead of turning to someone else. We could have figured it out together, Harry. But you made that impossible.”

“I know,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “And I hate myself for that, too. But I can’t change what happened, no matter how much I want to. All I can do now is tell you the truth, no matter how much it hurts, and hope that someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Y/N shook her head, her heart splintering with each word he spoke. “Forgive you?” she repeated, her voice hollow. “How am I supposed to forgive you when you’ve taken everything from me? You were my safe place, my home… and now, I don’t even know who you are.”

She glanced around the small entryway, her eyes lingering on the few personal items she had packed—clothes, a few cherished mementos, and the essentials she needed to start a new chapter.

The decision had been a long time coming, but today, she had reached her breaking point. She had given everything she had to make their relationship work, to bridge the emotional chasm that had grown between them, but Harry’s coldness and distance had eroded her hope. She was tired of fighting alone, tired of trying to hold onto something that felt like it was slipping through her fingers.

She had just finished dragging her suitcase down the stairs when she heard the familiar sound of the front door opening. Her heart sank as she realized that Harry had returned from the studio earlier than expected. The footsteps grew louder, and she braced herself for the confrontation she had been dreading.

Harry stepped into the hallway, his face lighting up with a mixture of relief and exhaustion as he saw her. “Y/N,” he said, his voice carrying an edge of surprise. “Going on a trip?”

The sight of him, looking worn out from a long day at the studio, only served to amplify the emotional storm inside her. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her shaking hands. "I'm leaving.”

Harry’s expression shifted from confusion to alarm. “Leaving? What do you mean? Where are you going?”

Y/N reached for her suitcase and gave it a resolute tug. “I’m leaving. I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of fighting, tired of trying to make things work when it feels like I’m the only one putting in any effort.”

Harry’s face fell, his exhaustion giving way to a wave of panic. “Y/N, wait. Can we talk about this? Please?”

She shook her head, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. “I’ve tried, Harry. I’ve tried to make us work, to be the person you need. But I’m exhausted. I deserve to be loved, to be with someone who truly wants to be with me”.

Harry’s eyes widened with hurt and confusion. “Please, just give me a chance to explain.”

Y/N took a step back, the weight of her decision pressing heavily on her shoulders. “I’ve heard all the explanations I need,” she said softly, her voice breaking. “The truth is, I’m done trying to fix something that feels broken beyond repair. I’ve given everything I have, and I just… I can’t keep doing this.”

She reached for the handle of her suitcase, her hands trembling slightly. “I just want to be loved, Harry. I want to be with someone who sees me and values me for who I am. And right now, that isn’t you.”

Harry’s face contorted with anguish, the pain of her words cutting deeply. “Y/N, please don’t do this,” he pleaded, stepping closer but stopping when he saw the resolute look in her eyes.

Y/N took a deep breath, her resolved unwavering. “I can’t stay here and keep hoping for something that may never change.”

She turned to leave, but Harry reached out, grabbing her arm gently. “Just give me one more chance,” he begged, his voice filled with desperation.

Y/N looked at him, her heart breaking at the sight of his tear-streaked face and the raw emotion in his eyes. “I deserve more” .

With that, she pulled her arm free, her heart aching as she walked out of the apartment and down the stairs. Every step felt like a small victory and a deep loss at the same time. As she reached the bottom of the stairs, she took one last look at the building, at the life she was leaving behind, and then stepped out into the evening air.

The room fell into a suffocating silence, the air thick with the unspoken question hanging between them. Y/N could see the desperation in Harry’s eyes, the plea for a second chance, but all she could feel was the overwhelming ache in her chest, the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to hold herself together. “I don’t know if I can ever look at you and not resent you for it”.

Harry’s face crumpled at her words, the pain in his eyes almost too much to bear. “I understand,” he said softly, his voice filled with sorrow. “I won’t ask you to make any decisions. I just needed you to know the truth. I’ll accept it even if it means letting you go again.”

The finality of his words hung in the air, a bitter reminder of how far they had fallen from the love they once shared. Y/N looked away, unable to meet his gaze any longer, the tears blurring her vision as the reality of their situation crashed down around her.

In that moment, the sushi on the table, the music playing softly in the background, the cozy warmth of the restaurant—none of it mattered. All that existed was the chasm between them, the deep, irreparable wound that no amount of apologies or regret could ever heal.

She stood up from the table, her movements slow and deliberate as she gathered her things. Harry stood up as well, his face pale and stricken with anguish. “I know that I am supposed to let you go. But please don’t go” he begged, his voice cracking. “I can’t lose you again”. Harry had hoped that this time around things would’ve ended different than that day at the apartment. However, it seemed like he was reliving it.

Y/N took a deep breath, the finality of her decision weighing heavily on her. “I can’t” her voice cracked as tears streamed down her face. “I can’t keep doing this to myself. You have to let me go”. She walked towards the restaurant’s exit, her heart heavy with the sadness of the parting. As she reached the door, she turned to look back at Harry one last time, her eyes filled with sorrow and a lingering love that could never be fully extinguished. “Bye H”

Harry watched her, his own tears falling freely now. The pain of her leaving was evident in every line of his face, but he made no move to stop her, knowing deep down that he had lost her.

Y/N stepped out into the cool night air, the city lights casting a gentle glow that only served to highlight the deep darkness she felt within. She paused for a moment, looking back at the restaurant where they had just shared their final, heart-wrenching conversation. Despite the sadness that still clung to her, a part of her felt unexpectedly lighter.

The weight of the past seemed to lift from her shoulders, replaced by a newfound clarity. She realized, with painful but liberating honesty, that her worth was never in question—it was never about her. She had finally found the closure she had so desperately sought. As she walked away, she felt a quiet confidence settle within her. She knew now that she deserved to be loved deeply and genuinely, and that there was someone out there who would truly appreciate her for who she was.

As she disappeared into the horizon, Harry stood alone in the doorway, the ache of her absence a stark reminder of the love that had slipped through his fingers. Of the only person that loved him with honesty.

part 1

[deadbydangit]

Hiiiiii. So I had a silly thought.i thought would maybe make you laugh? How would huntress, Knight, and trickster react to an S/o who likes to bite on their shoulder? Like, reader will show up at random points and just chew for a few seconds before *poof* disappearing. I really love your works, and I'm really hoping things look up for you soon. 🧡🧡

Hmm, I think I can do that. I'm sorry if this one is a little shorter. To make up for that I added Mastermind. Please enjoy.

With a Reader who likes to bite playfully.

Huntress, Mastermind, Knight, Trickster

Huntress

Hmm?

Why are you biting her?

Anna is able to tell the difference between a playful bite and an aggressive one.

So as long as you don't bite down too hard, she won't take it as a threat.

But she will be very confused.

She might even bite herself to check.

Is she edible?

Has she been edible all this time and not even know it?

You're going to have to explain to her.

But before that, patch up the spot where she bit herself.

She will be bleeding.

Gentle is not a word in her vocabulary.

She was actually trying to eat herself.

After lots of explaining, she'll finally start to understand.

And she might even try and bite you herself.

Which will probably end poorly on your part.

Again, gentle is not a word in her vocabulary.

So you're either going to have to teach her how to bite gently, or stop biting altogether.

Sure, Anna is a little rough around the edges.

But her clueless naive nature is just so cute.

Mastermind

He doesn't have time for this nonsense.

"What on earth are you doing?"

"Are you trying to make me angry?"

He has lots of questions.

He's not expecting an answer, he's just really confused.

"Why are you biting me?"

He won't take it as a threat.

Not because he doesn't whether or not to take it as a threat.

It's because he knows he's much stronger than you.

Besides, a little bite isn't going to stop the great Albert Wesker.

Once you explain, he'll start to chuckle.

He's amused at your antics.

"Well, I suppose if there is no ill intent."

He might even bite you back.

Problem is that he's amazing at sneaking up at you.

He'll bite you on the side of the neck, the ear, or the hand.

He just wants to see you jump and panic.

And after you do, he'll chuckle and whisper in your ear.

"I'm sorry dear heart. Did I frighten you?"

He's having fun.

Hey, you started this. He's not going to stop.

Knight

First off: oww.

Where are you going to bite him?

Like, he never takes off his armor.

Ever.

You're going to be biting into rusty, bloodsoaked metal.

You have fun with that.

If you do manage to catch him without his armor on, you'll have to be quick.

He's got very sharp reflexes and will use them.

Even if he doesn't mean to, he could still hurt you.

It's a force of habit for him.

If you do manage to bite him, he'll be shocked.

Possibly angry.

"What is this? You attack me? After all the trust I've placed in you?"

Tarhos we'll take this as a threat to a safety.

So you'll have to explain really fast.

Or, you know, risk getting your head chopped off or something by an angry knight.

He's skeptical about it.

He knows you aren't lying, but he still didn't like it.

"I see. Please refrain from doing that again."

He'll look angry.

But he'll probably ruffle your hair or something.

"If you wish to give me attention, just ask."

"There are better ways to gain affection without biting like an animal."

Trickster

Ji-Woon actually doesn't mind.

Like, at all.

He finds it really attractive.

It's a real turn-on for him.

So long as you don't mark up his beautiful skin.

If you do, then he'll be upset.

"Careful, you don't want to cut my beautiful skin, do you?"

He's really self-conscious about his appearance.

But he doesn't really have any room to talk considering what he's done to you.

He'll bite you back, but he'll bite hard.

He has a thing for seeing others in pain.

He loves looking at all the marks he leaves on your body.

If it's too much, you'll have to tell him.

Otherwise he'll keep doing it.

And he doesn't care if he cuts your skin and makes you bleed.

In fact, that really gets him going.

His favorite place to bite you is the side of your neck.

His favorite place to be bitten is his shoulder and his earlobe.

Whenever you do, he'll chuckle lowly.

"Did you want my attention my dear? Well you've got it."

"Now, entertain me."

So don't bite him unless you're ready to spend a lot of time with him.

[strebcr]

Quick discord drop 👍

[empresskylo]

ghost knows he’s too rough and impatient with sex. knows he won’t know how to please you properly. knows he can’t possibly do things right with you, knowing you’ve never done this before. but god, he wants to. he wants to treat you how you deserve. never thought he’d be so desperate to fuck someone good and slow like he does with you.

so he goes to price. the one man who will know all the right ways to please a lady properly. asks him to show him how to take care of you. tells him he doesn't know how to care for someone else's needs, at least with someone inexperienced like you. tells him he needs to be instructed. to see just how he should work you.

you’re nervous at first, thinking it’s an absolutely insane idea, but you can’t hide the wetness along your panties as you sit on ghost’s lap, back pressed against his chest, legs spread, his knuckle dragging down your warmth. price sits back in his chair, telling ghost exactly how to move his fingers, paying close attention to your body's minuscule movements, the way your brows furrow when ghost moves a certain way, or your eyelashes fluttering.

and this was supposed to be a strictly hands-off approach… but god, watching ghost fumble, unable to maintain the slow speed you need, keeping you from reaching your orgasm, has price on edge. he leans forward, rolling his chair with him, and tells ghost to stop. tells him to watch and to pay close attention. price tears your panties off and your eyes go wide at the contact. you swallow, expecting ghost to be furious, but his hands only settle around you and he takes notes as he watches his captain work.

price runs his thumb up your slit, circling your nub, and tells ghost to hold your thighs apart when you unconsciously try to clench them. then his finger is sinking into you and your head falls back against ghost's chest, eyes shut. you moan and you feel ghost harden beneath you. “how’s that feel, sweetheart?” price asks you. you babble out incoherently, price adding a second finger, and chuckling darkly at your response.

it becomes too much, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, his other hand rubbing your clit, ghost's fingers digging into the softness of your thighs as he forces them apart. “ohmygod,” you slur, “m’gonna—“ price smirks, his eyes darkening as he watches you orgasm, your body clenching around his fingers shoved deep in your heat. "talk her through it," price tells ghost. so ghost does. you're shaking still and ghost rubs his hands over your exposed skin. "that's it, baby. you're doin' s'good," he praises.

"whata fuckin' sight," price mumbles to himself, his fingers leaving you empty. you steady your breathing, coming down from your high, completely limp in ghost's arms. price can see the way ghost's eyes have gone dark, his pupils swallowing his irises whole. knows ghost doesn't know how to be soft. sees the feral need to ram himself into you overtaking his features. "gonna take it slow with her, yeah?" price asks.

ghost breathes rapidly out, his hips begging to buck up against you. he knows he wouldn't be able to control himself if you let him fuck you. so he answers honestly. "not sure I'd be able to."

price tsks, sitting back in thought, his eyes roving over your spent body. you suddenly feel shy, wanting to close your legs, but ghost's arms tighten on you. "need me t'break her in?" price finally asks after several long beats of silence.

ghost grinds up against you, his hand sliding into your hair and pulling your head to the side so he can kiss your neck. your eyes flutter at his attempts to be so delicate with you. "want the captain here to be your first time, love?" ghost asks against your skin. you stutter when you answer. "don't you want to be?" "course I do. but I won't go easy on ya. I'd hate to ruin you, sweet girl. price will take it nice n' slow. just like you need." and after, you'll be ready to take ghost. ready to adjust to his size.

you swallow hard, ghost's hands escaping and clawing at your clothed chest. you nod. "o-okay."

price stands from his chair and begins to undo his belt. "come sit on my desk, sweetheart."

cod masterlist

[oreo-creampie]

𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧’ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲-𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: they are your ex hubby and baby daddy and they want you back, make up sex, monster fucking with true form!sukuna - why let something like logic stop me from being horny when we can have the king of curses for a baby daddy, jealous!possessive!Satoru, sukuna isn’t jealous but crashed your date with pride, daddy/mama/princess, praise/praising degradation/mocking/teasing/light humiliation/embarrassment, squirting, manhandling, choking, smacking, satoru uses a clone, jerking off, pain kink, pussy slapping, vibrator, forced quick orgasm, overstimulation, Toji is doing his best to sweet talk you

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: Toji being your hot ex-husband who comes over Gumi every week and trying to fuck you as well

Oreo: in my quest to answer old asks here we are! Thank you for waiting anon if you did, if you didn’t I hope this reaches you one day! 🫶🏽

𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

He turns on your small vibrator, climbing onto your bed. Staring down at you with stunning forest green eyes. “This is what you got to replace me?” You hate how much you love the sight of his massive chest, cocky smirk and thick thighs.

Toji’s cock hangs and lightly sways as he comes closer. You want to him to stretch you out and fill you up. Make you his dumb cock drunk mess who only whines for more.

Ignoring your better judgment to kick your ex back out. You spread your legs, showing Toji how wet your soft cunt is for him. “It makes me cum without bein’ an cold hearted asshole.” You voice isn’t firm like you want. It’s trembling from four months of pent up frustration meeting your desperate anticipation.

The smirk in his face drops a little. “Deserved that.” His smirk softens to a charming smile. “Lemme make it up to ya mama.” He spits on your clit, stroking you with the pulsing toy. Nudging your soft wet cunt with two thick fingers slowly gliding them in.

“I been missing seeing your sweet cunt stretch for me. You feel so soft, wet n’ warm wanna feel ya cumming on my cock. Nothing else gets me off like seeing you soak my cock.” Stroking your sweet spot, focusing on you making you cum quickly.

Closing your eyes moaning, clenching his thick fingers, digging your heels into the bed. You’re lost in the immense relief, muffling your moans with your hand.

Toji pouts, “Look at me beautiful lil mama.” Pumping his fingers faster, adding more pressure to your clit with the toy.

“Let’s make a bet, if I make you cum harder with your toy then you can I win.” The pleasure is intense with the toy pulsing on your soft clit and his fingers working magic. He isn’t playing fair, using his knowledge of your body against you.

Whimpering, “Just tell me you need money.” He’s gaze is too intense, closing your eyes. Biting your lip trying to muffle your cries refusing to give Toji more satisfaction.

Keeping his pace steady, coaxing you towards cumming on his fingers. “I do want money but not from you. What I need is for ya to look at me. Wanna see the look in beautiful eyes when you cum.”

His cheeks flush pink, dripping his voice low whining. “Please.” It shoves you over the edge. Your soaking wet, sensitive cunt spasms, the vibrations on your sensitive clit becoming too much.

“Since I’m winning I wanna take ya out to dinner.” Biting your soft tight, the sweet pain adding at the intense pleasure. “I missed ya sweet tits, squishy thighs, soft stomach, and soaking wet cunt.”

You already came, you couldn't, not again so quickly. Yet you’re quivering, eyes watering, your moans getting louder. Toji muffles your cry with his lips

Rentlessly fucking your sensitive, sloppy wet cunt in a squirting mess, soaking the bed. He doesn't stop, fucking you through your high.

It’s too much yet you want more. You want to feel Toji’s thick cock twitching, his veins pulse seconds before he cums in you. Tears trickle down the side of your face.

Toji breaks away, smirking, “You’re so breathtaking tremblin’ n’ nearly crying cause the pleasure is too much. I've barely done anything and your soaking the bed. Shows how badly she needs me.” He sits up, turning the toy off tossing it aside.

Grabbing himself slapping your cunt with his heavy cock. Jerking your hips back, reflexivly trying to close your legs to escape the overstimulating stinging slaps. He croons, “Is it too much for your poor little cunt?” Dragging himself himself between your lips, running away when he nudges your sensitive clit.

Whimpering, “Yes but I want more, please daddy fuck me with your fat cock.” He flips you over, putting your ass up in the air. Lining himself up, gliding just his fat tip admiring how you stretch to take him. “Or should I call it mine?” You can't wait any long, pushing your hips back taking his cock.

“Nnn fuck that’s it mama fuck yourself with my cock. How good does it feel? Does it make you feel like a whore to fuck yourself like this? Using my cock like a toy.” He groans, it's a deep sound you’ve been missing.

He grabs your hips, meeting your hips with a harsh thrust. Stroking your sweet spot making your eyes roll back. He leans over you, pinning you down with some of his weight.

You’re clawing at the sheets unable to run away. “Come on lil’ mama give me another chance.”

𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

He’s in the shirtless. You want to fondle, squeeze, and bite his thick chest. Let your hands wonder down his beautifully sculpted body. You could dig your nails into his broad shoulders, spread your legs and take best cock you've had again.

You know how pleasurable it’s to be underneath and on top of him. Which makes not touching him for the past few months even worse. Finding someone that does it like Satoru is impossible.

“Got my shirt going in the washer with some of your clothes. Ya mind if I crash here for the night? It’s gonna be late by the time it’s dry.” Your brain freezes, and you’re thinking only with your cunt.

You’re caught, weakly snapping, “Fuck you for being hot.” You’re missing his warm, large hands groping your body, fingering your cunt. His soft warm lips peppering kisses like he’s worshiping you.

Satoru's pecs are fuller, and his arms are thicker, with two extra veins running down his forearms. When did he get this big?

He croons, “Careful sweetheart.” Grabbing the top of the doorway, filling it up, showing his size off, smirking. “If your date from last they knew how badly you want to fuck your hot baby daddy what would they think?” You’re stuck on his happy trail dipping into his jeans.

He hooks his thumb into his jeans. You rip your gaze away, cheeks burning, your cunt soaking your panties. "It was a second date so it’s none of their concern.” He steps closer, dipping his head down.

Leaning your head back, closing your eyes. “It’s not serious yet then good.” Opening your eyes, your body engulf by heat. The cocky smirk on his lips is infuriating.

He walks past you, standing in your bedroom door. “Why do you think you can help yourself to my room?” He turns around, his expression is cold, angry. It shouldn’t make you so horny.

Is he jealous?

He motions with two fingers, “Tonight it’s our room ya can fuck me for being irritatingly hot and I’ll show you who is better.” You follow him into your bedroom, closing and locking the door behind.

You suggest, “N’ if you fail to be better in bed?” Another Satoru grabs your hair from behind shoving you towards the original.

Nudging your lips with his thick fingers, gagging you when you part your lips. “Thank fucking god these walls are proofed imma make you moan my name like a prayer. I’m gonna have you cry out calling me god and worshipin’ my cock by the time were done.” Squeezing your neck, grabbing your tongue pulling out out to spit on it.

Stuffing your tongue back in with his long fingers. He unbuttons his jeans, pushing them down with his underwear, getting out his long, veiny cock.

Gliding his fingers out of your mouth, Satoru smears his spit on his cock. You wrap your fingers around him, smear his pre-cum with your thumb. Swirling your fist sliding your hand down his cock.

The clones lifts you off the ground, lining his cock up with your soft lips. Rocking his hips, grinding his warm, hard cock along your soft lips, softly stroking your sensitive clit.

Satoru loosens his grasp around your neck. “Stupid beautiful slut you brought him back here fucked him in what was our bedroom.” The clone Satoru pulls you back by your hips to meet his thrust. “Like your cunt doesn’t belong to me.” He grabs your thighs spreading you in a mating press.

Satoru groans at the sight your soft wet cunt taking his clone’s cock. “You wore this dress for him too.” He rips the front, smirking. He slips his blindfold off, tossing it on the bed. His eyes are cold, hard with intense jealousy you’ve never seen before.

You can’t glare up at him for ripping your dress. Unable to get mad with his cock stirring your guts up with each merciless, quick, deep stroke. He’s fucking a confession out of you. “Got it with you in mind. Knew it was something you liked to see on me.”

“It’s something I love seeing on you. It looks so much better like this, ripped with it bunched around your hips for you to take my cock.” You can’t focus on stroking his cock anymore. You’re too lost in the sweet pleasure of your needy, wet cunt stretching to take his long cock with it’s toe curling thickness.

Letting your thighs go when the clones grabs your thighs. He sits down, man spreading, spitting into his palm stroking himself. “Tell me lil baby mama whose fucking your sweet cunt in a sloppy wet mess?”

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚

Glancing Sukuna’s lips, he grabs your neck pulling you in close. His lips are so soft despite the roughness in his passionate hungry kiss. Slipping his hand up your dress squeezing your thigh digging in his nails. He slips his tongue in when you whine.

Dragging his nails up your thigh, squeezing your ass, lifting you off your feet. You wrap your legs around his waist. Desperately trying to keep from moaning into Sukuna’s hungry passionate kiss.

He’s hands and lips feel better than you recall, better then when you touch yourself at night. You missed his cocks, his deep groans, all four of his large hands fondling, restraining and playing with your fragile body pushing you to the point of breaking.

Carrying you through the hallway, closing the door locking it behind himself. Pinning you to the wall, dragging his nails up your thighs, fondling your ass.

He breaks the kiss, yanking your head aside by your hair. Biting your neck, you moan from the sweet pain. Using the second you steady to croon, “Aw you jealous Sukuna? Chased my date off.”

Rolling his crimson eyes Sukuna scoffs, “He isn’t enough for ya lil mama. And by the way you were undressing me from across the room I didn’t think you would mind.” His lips stretch into a cocky smirk that makes your cunt throb.

“You’re suck a rude slut with a broken lil cunt that craves both my cocks.” You want to sit on his face and cum till you’re trembling.

You plead with Sukuna, “Can you please?” Trailing kisses along his jawline, dragging your nails along his scalp. You bite his neck, he tilts his head to the side biting into his bottom lip. He moans from you sucking on the soft spot on his neck.

Stepping away from the wall, tugging you off his body dropping you onto your bed. He demands, “Say your a whore who thinks whose greedy lol cunt loves my monster cocks n’ I’ll fuck you stupid.”

Dragging his fingers along the inside of your thigh stopping shy of your cunt. Waiting for you to admit, “I’m your filthy whore who can’t stop thinking with her needy cock hungry cunt. Need ya to fuck me stupid please my King.” He bites his lip, his breath hitching.

“I need your cocks please no one else can compare to you. You make me cum so hard I can’t think straight or walk. Wanna be fucked into a stupid cum stuffed slut!” Lightly stroking your clit through your underwear. grinding your hips.

He croons, “That’s it! I missed hearing you beg. When I think my cock can’t get any harder, it’s almost hurtin.” Fondling himself through his pants, groaning.

“Please take my underwear off. Please my king!” Slipping his finger underneath your underwear. It shouldn't feel so good to have his finger brush your lips but your cunt is clenching.

He groans, “Fuck princess your so damn beautiful, makin’ you my baby mama only made you hotter. That makes you my Queen, my personal cumdump.” Transforming quickly. He’s twice your height and beautifully monstrous with four muscular arms, a mouth stretching across his hard abs. His dark pants outlining his hard cocks.

Unbutton his pants and freeing his cock with a loud sigh. Kicking his pants aside. Massaging his balls, admiring the sight of you laying down in bed with your dress pushed up and legs spread. Your soft cunt soaking wet for him.

Leaning over you, forcing you to look up, grabbing your hands pinning them above your head. Sukuna he slaps your cunt. “This is mine! It’s always been mine!” You reflexively jerk away from the intense sweet sting.

Sukuna yanks you back into place, pinning your legs open. Slapping your cunt again, licking your clit with his stomach’s tongue. Stroking your soft numb quickly, easing the stinging, gliding one thick finger one.

Curling it, remember how your sweet cunt likes it. Massaging your soft spot with the perfect speed and pressure reducing you to a moaning quivering mess, clenching his finger.

The sound proof bedroom containing your loud needy cries. “I miss how you double stuff me. Please, pleaseplease pleaseplease!” Your words are slurring together. His thick fingers are three of your combined, stretching your soft cunt out.

“I know lil’ mama no one can fuck ya like I can. It was a matter of time till ya missed me.” You’re creaming on his fingers too quickly. You shouldn’t be able to. Yet your cunt is clenching and creaming on his fingers.

Your cheeks burning. “Did you cuming so easily?” He smirk grows, “That barely more than a minute, you haven’t been treating her right.” His tongue strokes your puffy clit faster.

Oreo creampie’s m.list

[velvrei]

can you please do like enemies to lovers that ends in smut with logan???? the face riding one you posted was SO GOOD. 

a/n at the end

tell me more

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: you and logan HATE each other. you are stuck in the void for a few days, and when you get out, it’s too late to go anywhere so you stay at wade’s place with logan. in the spare bedroom. with one bed.

word count: 8k

warnings: smut, rough sex, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, degradation, switch!logan, mentions of blood and death, dance fighting, wade & his sexual comments

a/n: beware this is not proofread i’m too lazy

nsfw below the cut!

you disliked logan from the moment you met him. the two of you met through wade, your best friend and partner.

meanwhile, wade had a new best friend and partner in logan howlett. normally, jealousy would arise in such a circumstance, but it only created mini-competitions between the two of you.

the three of you were in the void. you were sitting in a chair, painting your toe-nails as you watched logan and wade fight to get their anger out.

you giggled as logan stabbed wade repeatedly with his claws, just sitting back and watching the show.

as you added your clear coat, it went almost completely silent and you looked up to see logan laying on wade, both of them with multiple wounds and covered in blood.

“you guys done yet?”

both boys groaned, making you grin as you fanned your newly painted toes and returned the nail polish to your bag.

a few minutes later, both guys were awake and walking towards you. you three needed a somewhere to stay, and you knew exactly where.

"i know where we can stay. this isn't my first time in the void, and there's a house where some hero's hide from cassandra. we can go there." wade listens to your words while logan just scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"and why are we listening to you?" logan's sassy remark made you roll your eyes.

"because i've been in the void before you dumb fuck. don't question me."

"what did you just call me?" logan growled, stepping toward you as you remained unbothered in your lawn chair.

"you heard me." your tone was sharp and sassy.

wade rolled his eyes before stepping in front of logan, stopping from getting any closer to you.

"guys. knock it off. we're gonna follow her, because she's been here before. got it, dog boy?" wade's nickname made you snicker, another nickname added to your dictionary.

“yeah dog boy.” you add on, earning a glare from wade.

“shut the fuck up, woman.” logan spat, his tone was bitter, and his eyes searched you up and down.

“you wish i would.” you spat right back, scoffing as you looking at your nails on your hand, acting completely unbothered by logan’s insults.

wade grabbed you out of the chair, and grabbed logan’s arm, practically dragging you both before shoving you forward.

before the three of you could even take another step, you saw a hidden figure standing on higher ground. he wore a hood over his head, and as he spoke, and revealed himself, it was johnny storm.

“there’s no time. they’re already almost here.” he points to the distance, physically pointing out the fact that cassandra’s army were already on their way to get you.

you swore under your breath as johnny jumped down, joining the three of you, it was now four against like, 100, and you knew you had no other way out of this but to face cassandra head on.

they all approached you fast, and quickly surrounded you. a man, with long hair and brown teeth, began to speak.

“ooo, she’s gonna love what i have for her.”

wade scoffed. “who is she, exactly?”

you smacked his shoulder earning a pathetic wince, causing logan to roll his eyes by the two of you.

the man ignored wade’s question, and before they even had a chance to fight, each of you were sucked by a magnet, and knocked unconscious.

when you woke up, you tried to move your body but it was restrained, looking up and seeing that you were tightly tied against logan. great.

you were in a moving ball, practically like a wired hamster house. your body was tightly maneuvered against his, breasts pressing against his chest, sighing in defeat as logan watched you struggle. “there’s no getting out of this.” his dark, husky voice made you look up, hating the fact that you couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes.

“i know where we’re going. i’ve been here before.”

johnny raised an eyebrow at that as he was tied up next to you, against wade. “you have? no one has ever escaped cassandra alive?”

you sighed. “well i have.”

logan rolled his eyes, hating that the attention was on you. “well aren’t you just the greatest. you escaped a bald bitch, boo fucking who.”

logan’s comment caused your knee to come up in between his legs and hit him in the dick, watching his face contort into pain, making you giggle.

after what felt like the longest ride ever, you arrived to cassandra’s lair, watching as she stepped out and observed the small group.

she untied everyone eventually, examining each person. when she walked up to you, she put her hands behind her back, giving you a smile.

“miss princess. lovely seeing you here again. you’ve escaped me once and it will take a lot for that to happen again.” her words made you swallow, a little frightened but not letting it show, so you held your ground against her.

“you don’t have to worry cass, it’ll happen again. i’m sure of it.” her eyes brighten at the nickname, giggling as she walked over to johnny storm.

it didn’t take long for her to release you as alioth slowly lowers from the sky, hungry for his next meal.

you quickly run over to a weird jet pack thing, watching as both boys follow you, johnny staying behind.

the three of you flew away on the magical item, you shouted quickly, “take us west! that’s where the house is!” she shouts to wade who is somehow controlling the thing from the bottom.

when you arrived at the house, you saw the others, as in the former x-men, which were all very familiar with you.

they greeted you, and you introduced them to the boys.

“this my friend wade! and this… is logan.” you say your excitement wandering off as you say logan’s name, wanting to purposely annoy him.

logan rolled his eyes and introduced himself to everybody sense you didn’t do it for him. the others noticed the frustrating tension between you and logan, most saw it as hatred, but gambit saw right through the both of you.

as everyone started to mingle, gambit approached you and introduced himself, his speed of speaking somehow easy for your brain to comprehend.

“you know, you and that logan guy would be one hot couple.” you almost choked on your spit, turning to him with your eyes wide.

“me… and logan…? like as in dog boy logan? like as in i fight people with claws like a furry, logan?” your comment made gambit chuckle, he nodded his head.

“yes, furry logan. it always startz as enemies, i tink you and him would really get along if you actully chose to.”

you rolled your eyes, “i’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one, mr gambit. i hate that man with a passion.”

he just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the room before looking over at you. “whatever you say, miss y/n. i may just see somefin you don’t.”

about an hour later, the group was all gathered around the table, trying to figure out a plan to capture and kill cassandra.

“okay. cassandra has her big army of dick-riders, so we have to find someway to distract/kill them without the others getting suspicious.” wade says, obviously opening the conversation for ideas.

“maybe we just go head first and attack them all?” electra suggests, which is a good idea, but someone would end up getting killed.

wade looks like he has a light bulb moment, and he turns to you. “remember that one time when we fought off those guys behind the bar in new york, and you did your little dance fighting thing, slowly killing them without the others knowing because you seduced them first,” wade said, sparking memory in your head. everyone else looked confused, while logan looked completely against the idea already.

“yes, how could i forget? that night started my tradition of dance fighting.”

wade smirks, “what if we use that in this? you seduce and fight the guards while we sneak in. i went by earlier and saw the army only comes out when it’s a group, so if it’s just you, seducing the guards, they won’t question a thing.”

wade’s idea makes your face lighten up, loving the idea of being the center of attention. “and how do we know this will work?” logan’s voice is obviously unamused.

“it’s never failed.” you spoke, shooting him a smirk before turning back to wade.

“yeah. let’s do it. i’ll walk up, distract the guard while you guys go through the back and sneak in, just give me a signal when you finally kill that bald bitch, because sway my hips for so long.”

your comment causes the other to laugh, except for logan, as usual. he just huffs, already not liking the idea.

you’re outside the house, everyone getting into the car, no seats for you and logan. “can you guys just sit in the trunk?”

you shoot him a look, knowing it won’t end well.

“out of all two people to out in the trunk, you should be smart enough to know him and i are the worst ones possible.”

logan scowled in agreement, if scowling in agreement was even possible.

wade just shrugged, telling you guys to suck it up and just get in the back, because we were only driving a few minutes.

you rolled your eyes, opening the back and getting in.

logan watched you with narrowed eyes, rolling his eyes before plopping in the trunk. he closed it behind him, and once it was closed, he scooted as far away as possible from you.

you scoffed and roll your eyes, “i don’t bite, ya know.” your words made him chuckle.

“you seem like you would with all those snarky comments you make.” his words make your mouth fall open, slightly offended.

“are you calling me a fucking ankle-biter?”

“yes.”

logan’s quick yes added to your loss for words, unable to form a sentence as you just sat there with your mouth open.

logan chuckled, but realized he was chuckling and stopped himself, quickly looking out the back window, trying to hide the fact he almost got comfortable around you.

when you guys finally arrived, wade got out and hit the button on the trunk.

logan got out abnormally fast, making wade laugh. you got out, grabbing your suit.

when you got you, wade closed the back and got back in the car, driving away and leaving you there.

you ran to the nearest room, changed into your suit, then stared walking toward cassandra's lair.

wade was parking on the side, his car hidden as he watched you slowly walk up to the group, boombox in hand.

wade pressed play on his phone, the song 'murder on the dancefloor' starting to blast on the boombox, drawing attention to you as you slowly walked up to the guards.

you set the boombox down onto the ground, walking up to the first guard, smiling at him as you placed both your hands on his shoulders, swaying your hips.

you slowly swayed down his body, hands roaming all over him. he was clearly into it, and that's what made it even better for you.

you slowly brought him to the side, pretending to kiss him, knocking him unconscious.

you slowly knocked down each guard with your moves and hands, seducing them then knocking them out.

you left them all in a pile, on top of each other, on the side of cassandra's lair.

when you were done, you walked over to the car, knocking on the window, as wade rolls it down.

"haven't seen you in your suit doing your thing for a few years! that was perfect!" wade exclaimed, getting out of the car.

you smiled, noticing how quite logan was from the trunk.

"you have about 30 minutes to get your asses in there before all the guards wake up." is all you say, earning a nod from wade and the rest of the group.

"yes ma'am." wade says, only half joking.

you nod as everyone gets out of the car, you push the button in the back so logan is able to do that.

logan huffs as he finally gets out. "i didn't need your help."

you could tell something was up. something different.

you roll your eyes, “oh, my bad mr. tough guy.” logan let out a scowl, and you watch his body shivered. you were unsure whether it was from anger or something else.

“you just love to push my buttons, don’t you.” his raspy, low voice caused you to turn your head, noticing the fact that he was actually pissed off by you. it made you want to annoy him more. you’d been grating on his nerves for this whole mission, and it barely even started.

“yes. that’s my job, dog boy, keep you on your toes.”

as much as you may despise logan, you have to grant it to him, he knows what he's doing, and he's admirable with it. this time, his voice is tired, not annoyed.

which makes you hold back a giggle. you’re tiring him. that’s something you find cute. “whatever woman, just shut up.”

and you do. you figure you can always annoy him more later, but right now there’s grater matters to deal with.

you hop back into the car, going into the front and making yourself comfortable as the others go to fight. your part was done and now you were more than happy to take the time you could to relax.

later that day, the mission was over with, and it didn't go as planned.

"i did all that ass shaking for nothing?" your words cause the group to have a collective laugh, except for logan, per usual.

"you'll live." his comment sends a shot through your heart, which you show, pretending to faint and holding your heart with your right hand.

"no.. i won't," you say, in stuttered breaths. wade just rolled his eyes at how dramatic you were, but the others seemed to love your jokes.

"will you quit that, you dramatic dingo?" wade's words snd nickname cause you to stop, bursting out into laughter with the rest of the team. except again for the usual exception, logan.

after everyone calms down it's settled that you, wade and logan were going to go through the portal, while the others stayed behind and you got them out later.

you arrived once again at cassandra's lair. yesterday you had captured her and she offered to let you guys to the real world, however, with a price. that woman never gave out things for free. there was some kind of catch and you knew that, but chose to ignore it for the time being, more ready to go back home to your regular universe.

it was just before dark, and as you walked into the lair, cassandra was sat in her chair, she turned to face you as you walked up the ramp. "hello boys, and y/n. welcome back. are you finally set for our trade?"

the three of you nodded, wade stepped forward. "yes we're ready miss death giver. please send us home." his words were so unserious, yet spoken in a serious tone and it almost made it seem serious. even logan almost chuckled.

cassandra opened the portal, watching carefully as the three of you walked through. you made it through, feeling as if you were falling to your death.

as you were falling from the sky, you turned to see logan, next to you, also falling, questionably close to you. he still managed to have his signature grumpiness as he was practically falling to his death, and he rolled his eyes and held a hand out to you, which caused your eyebrow to raise.

was he being... thoughtful toward you? that's a fucking first.

you accepted his hand, the two of you falling together onto a tree, groaning as the pain was still present. you heard some kind of click in the sky and slowly watched wade fall, landing on a poison ivy garden. you chuckled, then turned to logan, seeing his eyes still shut, his breath huffing and puffing. you then looked down, noticing that your hands were still holding each other.

you started to panic and let go, watching his eyes open slowly and his breathing start to slow down. "what, didn't want to hold my hand?" his snarky comment caused you to roll your eyes.

"no. you'll live." you say, using his comment from earlier.

he bares his teeth as a way of holding back another mean comment, watching as you slowly got up, starting to make your way over to wade, leaving his limp body there, by himself.

finally, the three of you make it back to wade's home. it was practically midnight and all the three of you were extremely drained after the day you had.

"you guys can stay here for the night with me, i have a spare bedroom and a couch." wade's words made you perk up, but logan beat you to it before you could say anything.

"you can take the couch. you're small enough to fit on it." you clench your jaw at logan's comment, sighing as wade shakes his head.

“not in my house, logan. as much as i love you mr. mutt, miss twerkalator over here gets the bed. unless you two want to share it."

logan looks at you, eyeing you up and down before shaking his head. "i'll take the couch."

you two walk into the room, and logan's eyes widen at the king sized bed.

he turns to you, his face obviously fighting back a decision. "we can share it. if that's okay with you. i propose a pillow wall."

you shook your head and giggled. "fine logan. only if there's a pillow wall. i want the right side though."

with a roll of his eyes, he sets his stuff down on the left side, you go out to say goodnight to wade, who must've changed into sweatpants and a hoodie cause he's no longer in his suit.

when you walk out, he's is wiggling his eyebrows at you. "you two have fun sharing that bed, okay? if you decide to fuck, let me know so i can come watch."

his words make you physically cringe, watching as his face is purely serious. this man was not joking. you roll your eyes, "there will be no fucking on your spare bed, wade. especially not with him." your cold words make wade shake his head.

"whatever you say, princess. if i hear moaning i'll assume it's the neighbors."

his final comment makes you flip him off as you walk back into the room, he blows you a kiss before you shut the door behind you.

logan is in the bathroom, then he walks out. "there's a shower in here. just letting you know. i'm gonna take one first, you can go after me if you need to." his tone seems calmer, but you assumed it was only because of his tiredness.

you nodded, just accepting the fact he was showering first and sitting yourself on the floor, grabbing your phone.

you didn't want to get the bed dirty, especially with your suit. so you just picked out your clothes, and waited for logan to be finished with his shower.

another quite twenty minutes and the bathroom door swung open.

he walks out, a plain white towel hanging low around his hips, his chest hair carrying small water droplets, a few dropping to the floor as he walked. his body is sculpted and wonderfully chiseled. his chest was defined, along with his abs, his veins evident, and his abs defined. there was a little trail of hair along his v-line, leading to below the towel. his beard had a few drops of water still left in it, assuming it was damp.

you swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his body was perfect, setting your clothes onto the bed and rushing yourself into the shower.

you tried to push back the possible thoughts of him looking delicious, and decided to just brush them off in your shower. but as you stepped in, it got worse.

the warm water hit your cold skin, almost like a reverse burn, but a good burn. it felt nice on your timid skin, you used this as a way to try and ignore the feeling you just had when you saw logan shirtless.

as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny it. he was fucking hot. and his body was even hotter.

you physically shook off the thoughts as you noticed a face wash in the shower. wade and his skincare. you grabbed it and used it, aggressively washing your face from all the dirty thoughts you just had and then washing your body, your hair, adding conditioner, then stepping out of the shower.

you dry of your body, deciding to do the same thing he did. you walked out, your breasts pushed up on the towel as you held it, grabbing your clothes off the bed, then walking back into the bathroom to change.

as you shut the door, you caught a glimpse of logan staring at your body and when he quickly looked away, you knew you had got him.

you got yourself changed, throwing your hair into one of wade’s bright pink towels and going to sit on the bed. you were sat awkwardly on one side, while logan was sat awkwardly on the other.

you grabbed your phone, trying to drown out the awkward silence through your instagram feed, but it wasn’t cutting it.

logan wasn’t even trying to deny the awkward silence, he just stood there, letting his thoughts overload his brain.

he huffed, before grabbing the towel by his bed, placing it onto his pillow and setting his head down. “i’m gonna go to sleep. don’t wake me up.”

his harsh words make you want to laugh, remembering the scared look he had on his face when you caught him staring form just minutes ago, but you decided to let him rest and leave him be for the night.

he quickly fell asleep, beginning to snore, which made you laugh, but you quickly got tired yourself and set the phone down, plugging it in and falling asleep yourself.

you slept for a few hours, before you woke up, your mouth incredibly dry and in need of some water.

you slowly got up, trying not to knock over the pillow wall as you did so, you slowly opened and shut the door behind you, trying to refrain from any noise. you walked out to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from wade’s cupboard and filling it up with his fancy filtered water from the fridge. you took a sip, the cold liquid instantly wetting your throat, easing your cotton mouth.

you started to look at the magnets on wade’s fridge, smiling as you saw multiple pictures, even one of you and him. it was a selfie he stopped to take in the middle of a mission. he was a fucking goofball.

you turned and jumped, seeing logan behind you. he was grabbing a glass for himself. “did i scare you?” he just chuckled at you and got some of the tap water, chugging it. he obviously knew the answer to that and was just asking to piss you off even more.

you rolled your eyes, ignoring his question and getting more to the water from the filter. he rolled his eyes. “filtered water? seriously? now i see why you and wade get along so well. you both are incredibly boujee.” his use of the word boujee practically makes you spit out your water into the sink.

“i never expected that word to be in your dictionary.” you said, honestly, watching as he chuckled, filling up his water and sipping it this time.

“there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” his voice was low and raspy, lower than usual. it was his sleepy voice, you were trying not to let it get it you. didn’t matter what he said. it was the voice that was the problem.

“yeah? like that you snore in your sleep? just found that out a few hours ago.”

logan scoffed, clenching then unclenching his jaw, holding back a roll of his eyes. “yes, i snore. i didn’t even know until my ex-wife told me.”

the mention of his ex-wife made the room go silent, with the exception of the faucet dropping a few times.

his comment just reminded you of how much older he was than you. you decided to not let it be awkward by keeping the conversation going.

“ex-wife huh? how many of those have you had?” your snark comment making his eyes actually roll this time.

he could hear the teasing nature in your voice and didn’t take it the wrong way, but was still acting annoyed, because he always tried to be with you.

“i’m not answering that question.” his response made you giggle. you just smiled to him, deciding to tease him a bit.

“you gonna make me guess?”

with a roll of his eyes he set his glass into the sink, and you didn’t realize his body was slowly getting closer to yours.

“don’t guess. cause i won’t tell you.”

you hid back a smile, looking up at him. “you know, i caught you staring earlier.” your blunt comment made all his attention go on you, eyes searching you up and down for any sign of discomfort at the thought of him staring at your body.

“i was not staring.” his voice was still low and husky, making your stomach get butterflies. you watched to stop them but you couldn’t help it. logan was towering over you and all you could do was look up at him.

he body moved closer to you as you said your next comment. “you definitely were. i saw it with my own two eyes.”

your comment must’ve struck a nerve in him, because his body was now fully pressed up against you, one hand on your hip while the other rested on the fridge above your head. you were unsure of what to do, he practically had you pinned to the fridge.

“i said, i wasn’t staring, doll. what part of that don’t you get?” he spoke slower this time, eyes daggering into yours, making your heart flutter.

“okay. you weren’t staring.” your words make him smile a bit.

“that’s right.” his voice was taunting almost, and it made you shiver. he stared down at you, and as he separated himself from you, you noticed, a bulge in his pants. you giggled to yourself as he walked back into the room. leaving you there, with your many ideas in your head of how the rest of the night could go.

you take a deep breath, composing yourself before walking back into the room. you laid down on your side of the pillow wall, staring at the ceiling. little did you know he was doing the same.

you took a deep breath before you said your next sentence. “you know, it’s okay to get a boner. it’s normal.”

your comforting yet embarrassing words caused his cheeks to flush. your words made him realize you noticed his bulge, and he huffed before throwing each of the four pillows in the pillow wall onto the floor.

“what did you just say?”

you tried to hide back your amused giggle. “you heard me and you know it.”

your eyes glared into his, watching his face as his jaw clenched. he knew he’d been caught.

“i said, it’s okay to have a boner. i know you’re hard because of our interaction. and because of seeing me in nothing but a towel. you don’t have to hide your attraction for me, logan. i’m not stupid. i know it’s there.”

your words cause a battle within him internally. there’s no denying that your words sent a shiver down his body. frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if a wet patch appeared in his pants.

he tries to think of something snarky to respond with, wanting to ignore the aroused feeling he had, not wanting you to have the slightest hint about how he was feeling.

you decided to speak again before he could, "in fact, i'm sure it's getting worse the more i speak-" you don't have time to finish your surly sentence before he's right there, his hot breath fanning your face from above, his forearms on either side of your head, trapping you in.

"you know what? yeah. you're the reason why i'm hard. doing your fucking dance fighting. i had to hide how hard i was. watching you kill those guys so effortlessly, and looking sexy while you did it. and, god you walking around here in nothing but a towel, last night where you worse the littlest shorts that barely even cover your ass. that's what made me hard. god, and i've been trying to hide it for so long but it just seems like i'm affecting you too."

he growls, his face falling to your neck, the intersection of your shoulder, his lips just brushing the flesh before inhaling deeply; almost animalistic.

you smile, looking up at him, getting another idea. you bat your eyelashes and take his hand, knocking him to his side as he's forced to lay next to you. “lo, you do affect me, so bad," you take his hand and lead it down to your core, pressing his hand to your clothed pussy. "right here. you feel that? feel how wet i am? it's all cause of you."

you watch as his mouth falls open and his pants tighten, seeing his dick twitch in his sweatpants. he's at a loss for words. he was expecting you to submit to him, but the way you didn't sent shivers down his spine.

"yeah? i did that?" his mouth now forms to a smirk, looking over at you, down to your lips and up to your eyes.

"yes you did. and i've been aching, waiting for you to come help me out." you watch as his head falls back, a puff of air falling from his mouth.

"fuck, stop talking." his command only eggs you on. you being the little menace you are, continue with your teasing.

"need you so bad logan. so bad right here. she's been aching. calling for you. god, she's so tight and needs something to stretch her out, think you can do that? i bet you’re so big, could stretch her out real good.”

you watch as his body shakes, and you notice a wet patch on his sweatpants, realizing the fact that he just came, just from the words you were saying and the slight touch of your clothed pussy.

"you must've been waiting for this huh? already came in your pants. naughty boy."

logan doesn't let you get another word, because his lips press to yours. after so much waiting, the tension was finally being released through a kiss.

the two of you continue your messy kiss, and it doesn't take long for his hands to stray, his palms skimming down your hot flesh, and leaving goose bumps in his wake.

“fucking hell, woman,” he whines, getting on top of you again, kissing your lips. "you're gonna look so much better when I mark you up, every inch of you. you already look like you’re mine."

his words made you moan, tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to take it off, which you do, you throw it over your head and across the room. leaving you in nothing but your soaked panties.

“god, so fucking pretty. you know how hard it was for me not to do this to you earlier on? you know how long i’ve been fucking waiting?” his harsh words make your body tremble. he slowly kissed your breasts.

his tongue swirled across your left nipple, sucking on it, eyes up on you, watching your face, watching it contort into pleasure because of him.

he kisses and gives love to the other breast, sucking on it as his hands slowly roam your body, overstimulating you with his touch.

he slowly descends while pulling at the waist of your panties. it appears like that's when he realizes it, pulling away from you, breathing heavily, his beard tingling your hip bones.

his desperate eyes look up at you, searching your face for any regret to which he found none.

he takes off your panties, shoving them in his pocket. "i'm gonna keep these."

his words make you moan again. you look down and he has a devilish grin on his face, both his arms wrapping around your legs, nibbling on your thighs before starting to devour as if he's starving and you're his last meal.

his tongue immediately fucks into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he works his magic. his nose rubs against your clit, moaning the more he gets into it.

he was being so messy, and it was making you wetter, which then continued to make the situation even messier.

his facial hair caresses your swelling pearl as he eats you whole, without any hesitation—to him, you are a complete feast.

the most exquisite sight you have ever seen is his tongue in your pussy as he gives you sloppy kisses.

you can only watch, gripping his hair and running your fingers through his dark locks, yanking for some semblance of stability, something to keep you bound to this world because the pleasure you feel is unfathomable.

"fuck, logan that feels amazing?" your words only edge him on, watching as his silly smirk turns to a devilish grin.

"does it baby? tell me more." his voice is still low and husky, and he grips your thighs tighter, noticing your body shaking.

but you're so close, perched precariously on the brink of something amazing, something profound, something cosmic. you are crying as he gets closer and closer to you, enjoying every taste of his tongue in your cave and every nuzzle of his nose to your extremely sensitive spot.

"i'm so close." is all you are able to say, feeling a bit embarrassed at the fact the man you once despised was now between your legs, making you yell for him.

"yeah? come on doll, i'll take you there." his words mixed with his stimulations on your clit and fucking of your hole finally bring you to the edge.

your body trembles and shakes as he makes you cum for the first time of the night, you drench his face in your juices, loving how intimate he was with his way pleasuring you.

"good fucking girl." his words combined with his look turns you back on instantly, sending shivers down to your core as you finally come down from your high.

he comes up, you place both hands on either sides of his face, his soaked beard tickling your fingers. "you're gonna ruin me, aren't you?"

his smile only grows, as he begins to lower his sweatpants, "i'm gonna make it so no other man is able to top what i do to you tonight."

his words make you moan, he presses a kiss to your forehead before letting his dick free, you watched as the precum dripped onto your stomach, trying to ignore how hot it was. god, even his dick was hairy. but today was the day you finally decided to admit that you loved every fucking hair on his body.

he slowly aligned with your aching pussy, which is practically waiting just to suck him in. he slowly pushes in, earning a moan to fall from his soaked lips.

you hiss, but as he stretches you, the minor pain only makes you want to absorb him completely more. your ass reaches his thighs, causing you to realize that he's now balls deep in you.

he mutters, "fucking hell," letting out the most agonizing sigh yet.

his movements begin slowly as you becomes accustomed to his immense girth filling you up to the brim.

even the smallest movement causes your walls to become tense around the ridges of his dick, grinding against you so strongly. with each rock, his breathing gets deeper, his eager pants and short pleas filling the air as he picks up tempo.

he moves faster, eyes gazing into yours, he pulls his hand up and places it on your stomach, pressing down knowing it would increase the pleasure for you.

“tell me baby, talk to me. how does it feel?” he already knew the answer to that, but he absolutely loved the thought of you beneath him, trembling under of his manipulation.

“so fucking good.” your harsh words make his dick twitch.

“yeah? tell me more, hon.” your head falls back, hair sprawling onto the pillows as your body shook, feeling overstimulated by his words and thrusts, that were picking up speed, and the fact that you had already came once, and fast. you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

he looks down at you, letting his hand trail from your stomach to your mouth. “open.”

you watch carefully, eyes never leaving his as his fingers slowly slide into your mouth, moaning as he remains eye contact and watches you suck on them. seeing that makes him imagine how good your tight little mouth would feel around his dick.

“god, you’re gorgeous.” he says, finally admitting it.

all you can do it smile, realizing this is the first time he’s ever genuinely complimented you, and you decided to take it in, and tease him with it. per usual.

“think that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented me. you finally letting yourself see how fucking hot i am?”

your words apparently get to him because he winces. not a sad wince, a pathetic ‘i need to cum’ type wince.

“stop that.” his voice is harsh, a bit whiny, as he continues to thrust into you, both hand now on your hips as he hovers above you, his tip hitting your cervix, stretching you out just for him.

"stop what, logan? you don't like hearing about how we could've fucked so much earlier, if you just quit the fucking act and admitted how horny i made you?" your dirty talk was working on him and you were loving it.

the man was whimpering, his hips starting to stutter, as he pounded into you, wanting to make you cum before he did.

"if you keep talking like that i'm gonna cum, y/n." you smiled up at him, knowing you were close as well.

your tired eyes batted up at him, a small smile forming on your face.

"then cum. do it. fucking cum, i'll cum with you, yeah? filling me up so good, you feel her clenching? that's all from you baby, you got me this hot and bothered, now make me fucking cum." your words flipped a switch in him.

he started pounding into you, balls slapping repeatedly against your ass as he moved, keeping his same pace but now fucking you harder.

he moaned into your ear, "yeah? i'll make you fucking cum. gonna make you cum so hard the only thing you'll remember is my fucking name," his harsh words and the fact he could go from submissive to dominant so fast made you go over the edge for the final time that night.

you finally came, the continuous pressure in your bundle of nerves, the hot white wave of pleasure sends you hurtling through the sky and to heaven in an instant, leaving you in a state of unrestrained bliss that you cannot predict.

your body is electrified from head to toe. somewhere in the mix of your earth-shattering orgasm logan came as well, the sight of you in such state making him reach his peak, filling your walls with his hot sticky cum.

you both sat there for a second, catching your breath, and suddenly you looked down to see logan’s hot cum gushing out of you and onto the bedsheets, the sight becoming to hot to handle, as you both moaned in unison.

he got up and went to the bathroom, getting a rag from the cupboard and drowning it in hot sink water, ringing it out before walking over to you and cleaning you up.

his tongue licked up some of the mixed cum, and you watched with big eyes, feeling even more aroused at the sight.

he used the rag to get the rest and wipe off his beard from your juices.

he threw the rag into the hamper, climbing into bed next to you again, this time a lot closer and with no pillow wall.

instead, you rested in his arms, smiling up at him, as the two of you finally fell asleep.

the next morning, you and logan lay for a bit before you throw on one of his shirts and some of your shorts and walk out to the kitchen, seeing wade sitting at this dining table with his fake glasses on, drinking a cup of coffee in his ‘love yourself’ mug.

he eyes the both of you as you walk out, taking note of the outfit changes.

he smiled. “morning sunshine’s. how’d the night go? did you guys hear my neighbors downstairs at all? sounded like they were getting it on, the guy was moaning and groaning, must’ve been havin’ a grand ole’ time,” wade says, doing the thrust motion with his arms up causing logan’s face to turn a bit pink, making you laugh loudly.

he came up to you, hands around your waist and lips near your ear.

“try to walk in a straight line, sweetheart, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

a/n: SURPRISEEEE hiii guys! this is what i have been working on all day! i wanted to spoil you with more then just a drabble while i had motivation. MWAH I HOPE U ENJOYED!