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thegreymarveljedi · 1 day ago

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He’ll Be Home Soon

(Echo x reader)

This idea came to me while at a family gathering. I was just daydreaming and whatever and I thought of this idea and ran with it. This is probably one of the first fics in a while that I’m actually very proud of. It took a few weeks but it feels good to get my motivation back and with a few extra ideas from others on how to keep my works from getting deleted again (thank you @techhasmjolnir , @isthereanechoinhere96 @inkstainedhandswithrings ) I’m back for the new year with a few good stories coming out!

This story takes place starting just before Star Wars the clone wars Season 3 Episode 18 (I am so so sorry lol). I hope you all enjoy this!

(Also, last minute add but divider is done by @stars-n-spice )

Warnings: ANGSTTT, major character ‘death’, ‘5’ stages of grief, mentions of blood, concussion, denial, delusions, mentions of anxiety, hurt/ eventual comfort, tears from many people, fluff, mentions of loneliness/ introvert, insecure Echo, happy ending

Words: 10.6k (Way more than I thought lol)

(Y/N) stood with Echo at the front door of their apartment, watching as he fixed the rest of his armour. She helped where she could, passing him pieces and fixing others that were crooked. He smiled at her as he finished fixing his armour, grabbing his helmet and securing it under his arm.

“I’ll be home before you know it mesh’la. We’re only ment to be gone for 7 rotations minimum and 10 rotations maximum. In and out is what the job is,” he said, looking down at (Y/N) with eyes that conveyed so much confidence and love. Even with his confidence she couldn’t shake her worry, the war weighing on her in so many ways. She was worried for his life more than her own and she wanted so much to join the mission, to ensure he came home to her but she knew it was impossible to convince the council of it.

“I know Echo. But I have a really bad feeling about this mission,” (Y/N) said, placing one of her hands on his chest and the other finding it’s way to his cheek, the stubble on his cheeks tickling her palm, “Just stick close to Fives please? And don’t take any unnecessary risks okay?” She pleaded even while knowing full well that it was futile. She knew Echo would be careful but she also knew that he was a soldier who would do whatever it took to complete the mission.

“With General Skywalker, there’s always risks,” he chuckled, though the face (Y/N) gave him must have made him rethink his joking manner.

“I know that,” she replied, rolling her eyes at the mention of her best friend in the order. (Y/N) had worked with the 501st many times and she knew that Anakin could be reckless with his actions. But she also knew how much he cared for his men, even if he took unnecessary risks. Echo looked at her with a soft smile, his gloved hand coming up to take hold of her own that still rested on his cheek.

“I’m serious Echo. Don’t do anything you shouldn’t do. I need you to come home to me.” Her voice cracked as she spoke those word’s, her emotions spilling over. As a Jedi, attachments were forbidden, a path to the dark side as master Yoda always said. But (Y/N) liked to think that her relationship with Echo was different. She didn’t feel any darkest in her heart or anger when he was gone, all she felt for him was love and the occasional worry. But I guess that worry turned to fear in this case and she knew that master Yoda would frown upon this revelation.

“I will cyar’ika, I promise.” Echo snapped her out of her thoughts, his words touching her heart and easing her mind even if only a little. (Y/N) stared at her handsome arc trooper, his hazel eyes deep pools of wonder that she could admire for hours, his lips so kissable and soft, pulled into an affectionate smile that she wished would never leave. His hair was cut in accordance with regulations but still as soft and fluffy as his heart, the very soft waves tempting her to run her fingers through them. She refrained however, instead choosing to kiss his nose and tilt his head forward toward her own, resting their foreheads together.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” (Y/N) spoke softly, her voice trembling slightly at the thought of letting him go. She knew it was war times and that they had a fight to win, but that didn’t mean she liked it. It didn’t make parting with him any easier.

“I’d expect nothing less from you my dear,” Echo chuckled, his helmet falling from his hands as he wrapped her in his arms one last time. (Y/N) returned the embrace, determined to hold his warmth against her body for as long as she could before he really had to leave.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner kar’ta,” Echo whispered, his face buried in her neck as he breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of (Y/N)’s body soap. His hands found her hips, running his gloved palms up and down her sides as her arms remained locked around his neck. The press of his armour against her torso was painful but worth every moment, as long as he was in her arms.

“I love you too Echo. So so much. I always will,” (Y/N) replied just as quietly, not wanting to break the serenity of the moment. After another minute of holding one another his comm went off, the beeping of the device signalling that it was time for him to go.

She gave her beloved trooper one final squeeze, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes as she begrudgingly let him go. Echo smiled sadly at (Y/N) as she leaned down and retrieved his helmet, tucking it under his arm once again before bidding her a final goodbye. As the door opened to allow him to leave, he turned back to face his cyare once more and blew her a kiss, one that she caught and returned, her hands trembling slightly as she watched him leave.

“I’ll be home soon ner sarad. I promise,” he spoke one final time to her, his smile never leaving his face and the warm affection in his eyes conveying his love. She nodded as the door closed, cutting her off from the love of her life temporarily.

(Y/N) tried her best to hold the tears at bay, her emotions bubbling up and threatening to burst out in full force. She took some deep breathes, composing herself before she looked around the apartment, suddenly feeling so small and alone in the space meant for two. She cracked her neck and sighed, trying to think of everything else besides the handsome trooper who had just left her presence.

“It’s only 7 rotations at minimum. We’ve gone longer without each other. What’s the worst that could happen?”

~Time Skip~

Being on a meditative retreat was relaxing, time away from the fighting and the politics, not having to think about much of anything. It was peaceful, like it should be, even if (Y/N) was still a little worried about Echo. But once he returned, they could disappear off world together for the last week of the retreat, head to Naboo and just relax for a few days.

She smiled at the thought of it, thinking about how relaxing it would be to spend time with my love after he came home. It was 8 rotations ago that Echo and the others had left on their mission, the details of which were still classified to almost all besides the council and a few other veteran Jedi. All she knew was that Anakin and Obi-wan were leading a team to rescue Master Piell.

(Y/N) was snapped out of her thoughts when there was a knock at the door, the sounds firm and stern. She smiled giddily, thinking that it was her trooper coming home and wanting to surprise her. She smoothed out her robes and fixed her hair, ready to greet Echo after a long mission away. She walked over to the door and pressed the panel to open it, her large smile falling as she gazed upon two troopers she hadn’t expected to see.

“Rex, Fives what are you guys doing here? And where’s…” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide and her heart stopped immediately when she noticed that Echo was nowhere to be found next to Fives. Her eyes darted between the two troopers, fear gripping her heart like vice, a cloud of darkness forming around her in the force.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Fives said, his helmet tucked under his arm which allowed her to see his face, eyes bloodshot and tear streaks staining his cheeks. (Y/N) laughed and shook her head, giving Fives a punch to his chest and gesturing for them both to come inside.

“N-no. Stop messing with me. This is another one of your stupid pranks right?” She laughed again, a very unpleasant sounding laugh leaving her lips as her eyes continued to dart between the Arc trooper and the clone captain who had yet to utter a word. The glare Fives sent (Y/N)’s way sent a shiver down her spine, his gaze intense and full of anger.

“I would never joke about this,” Fives hissed, taking a menacing step forward as tears began to gather in his eyes once more. Rex placed a firm hand on Fives’ chest, giving him a small push back and glaring at him. He shook his head, knowing that Fives was hurting but also knowing that (Y/N) had lost the love of her life. Fives realized his mistake and looked over Rex’s shoulder to the woman, eyes finding her horrified expression at the realization that they were telling the truth.

“Bu-but he can’t be. H-he promised me he’d come home.” She shook her head as the words fell from her lips, in disbelief at the prospect that her beloved Arc trooper had fallen in battle. Her knees felt weak, like they couldn’t support her weight any longer. (Y/N) eyes continued to dart between the boys as she took a few steps back into her apartment, the space suddenly feeling even smaller than it did when Echo left.

“I’m- I’m so sorry (Y/N). But he’s gone,” Rex said, his voice that of a defeated captain who had just lost another brother. Her head continued to shake as Rex and Fives slowly walked into the apartment, the doors sliding shut behind them.

The boys knew they were welcome in her home, having hosted them for many nights after a successful mission. This however, was a different monster entirely. Echo was gone and they were in mourning, (Y/N)’s own mind having an impossible time coming to terms with these revelations. She could feel the cloud of sadness growing, gripping her heart and taking over her senses.

Their eyes looked sad and genuine as they told (Y/N) what happened to her soldier, how bravely he fought and how tragic the mission was as a whole. She felt her heart crack as they continued to retell it, wanting them stop but knowing that, deep down, she needed to know. She felt like her legs would give out, the trembling getting more and more violent as their recounting of the mission went on. Fives had deposited himself at the dinning room table, his helmet long forgot by the front door as Rex stayed standing.

“N-no. Nonono.” (Y/N)’s words seemed so distant even to her own ears, stumbling over her feet as she continued to step back, trying her best to back away from the reality of this situation. She knew she was in denial, Rex and Fives’ presence telling her all she needed but it didn’t feel real. It felt like someone was pulling the world right out from under her feet, reaching into her chest and tearing a piece of her heart away. There was ringing, so loud and annoying, like an alarm in her ears that didn’t seem to stop.

“I’m deeply sorry vod’ika. He fought like a hero and died a hero,” whoever said that, their voice was distant to (Y/N)’s ears, the ringing intensifying tenfold her heart crumbled in her chest. She began hyperventilating, as if she was falling down a dark hole with no visible way out. She blindly reached for the counter in the kitchen, trying to find some kind of solid surface to keep her grounded.

“I-I-” words seemed to fail her, the world around her growing darker and darker as her knees began to give out. She couldn’t feel her lower half or even her fingers, her body failing her just as the words did.

“(Y/N)?” Rex asked, Fives perking up at the concern in the captains voice. He turned to look at (Y/N) and his eyes went wide, seeing her shake and stumble. He was on his feet and walking over to where she stood immediately, knowing that Echo would come back from the grave and shoot him if he let anything happen to his cyare.

“I-I can’t fe-feel my legs…” (Y/N) said, so quietly that both men almost missed what she said. Her vision went black, eyes rolling into the back of her head as the ground seemed to swallow her. Her consciousness came crashing down, the force around her swirling a deep purple. Her subconscious mind could feel her falling, fingers on the counter slipping off as her body came hurtling toward the hard surface of the floor.

“(Y/N)!” Fives yelped, catching her before she could hit the ground, but not before her head slammed into the counter, a loud thunk reverberating through the apartment. Rex was by her side in an instant as well, helping Fives to slowly bring her to the ground. Rex turned her over slowly to check on the spot where she hit her head, blood oozing from the wound.

He cursed and stood up, moving to grab the first aid kit from under the sink as Fives quickly sent a message to Kix. Rex came back with the kit and a damp cloth, holding it against (Y/N)’s head to try and stop the bleeding.

“Let’s move her to the couch, carefully,” Rex said and Fives nodded, feeling quite guilty that they hadn’t told (Y/N) to sit down before they told her the tragic news. His mind went to his fallen twin, seeing his helmet lying there on the durasteel of the citadel landing pad. It was burnt, fried to a crisp from the explosion, but he had begged Ahsoka to use the force and bring it to them, needing to take the last part of his twin home.

“Comm Kix now.” Rex snapped Fives out of his thoughts, his voice somehow calm even with the current situation as they brought (Y/N) over to the couch to lay her down. Rex quickly placed down a few extra clean towels to stop the blood from seeping into the couch, not wanting to make (Y/N)’s apartment feel any more chilling.

“He’s already on his way,” Fives replied, his eyes downcast as he held (Y/N)’s hand. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for him to do so, (Y/N) accepting the small gesture of platonic affection whenever the boys came over after a mission. He held it is gentle, as if trying to ground them both and come to terms with the reality that his twin was gone. It was so hard to grasp, Fives struggling to understand how much this had effect (Y/N).

“Should we have waited to tell her?” The words fell from his lip before he could stop them, voice soft yet defeated. Rex took a moment to mull over Fives words, knowing that they were all grieving. But he hadn’t wanted to keep (Y/N) in the dark about this, especially when he knew she’d hear that they were home. It wasn’t right to keep this from her no matter how much he wanted to.

“No. It needed to be done now,” he said firmly, though his words lacked their usual confident conviction. He stared down at (Y/N), someone who had been a second in command to him many times, saved his and his brothers lives more times than he could count and always welcomed them into her home with open arms.

“But why?” Fives said quietly, looking to Rex with such sadness and despair written across his features.

“Because I don’t feel right lying to her. She doesn’t deserve that,” Rex said, his eyes turning to look at Fives before turning back to look at (Y/N). Her unconscious expression was unreadable, her face neutral even if the rest of her body was tense. Her skin had drained of some of its colour, once vibrant but now dimmed and dull. Rex turned back to Fives, watching the emotions pass along the Arc troopers face as he started at his twin’s cyare.

“I know you just lost your twin, Fives. But this is his Cyar’ika. Even if it hurts to shatter her world, she deserved to know that he went out like a hero,” Rex said, placing a hand on Fives shoulder to try and convey his thoughts to his Vod. Fives only nodded, not wanting to be reminded of such a tragic event. It was still fresh in his mind, that much was true, but for as long as he could, he wanted to just pretend it wasn’t real.

“I know Rex. It just…hurts. A lot,” Fives said, his voice cracking as the tears returned, the emotions no longer wanting to stay hidden behind the mask he had managed to put on. He removed his gloves, putting them down on the Caf table along with his chest plate and gauntlets.

“I know Fives. I know,” Rex said with a sigh, moving to do the same as Fives. They removed their armour silently, placing it neatly in piles by the door as they waited for Kix to arrive.

“Should we have given her the holo instead,” Fives said as he removed his belt and pulled the small device from one of the compartments. He remembered the moment that Echo had given him the holo tape, telling him that…

“If something happens to me, I need you to give this to (Y/N). She needs to hear what is in this and I need her to know that I love her.”

“I don’t know,” Rex’s shoulders sagged as he thought about it all, loosing one of the troopers he had trained since shiny, one of the 501st brothers he was closest too, “This way at least, we can stay with her and help her through this.” Rex had seen the holo before, having been close by to Echo when he had reordered it. He knew what it said and had even teared up a little at how sentimental it was.

“Will we ever give it to her?” This time it was Fives to break the temporary silence that had fallen over the apartment, looking at (Y/N)with sad eyes.

“I don’t know,” Rex said. Before he could utter another word, there was a firm and slightly frantic knocking at the door. It slid open to reveal Kix with his med kit and Hardcase and Jesse behind him, both sporting grim expressions. They quickly walked into the apartment and closed the door, Jesse initiating the lock as soon as they were all in.

“There isn’t much we can do right now but I suggest we tell general Skywalker,” Kix said as he put his stethoscope away, standing up and depositing his med kit next to the front door along with the rest of the boys armour.

“We can’t. What will he do?” Jesse asked curiously, knowing that yes, Anakin and (Y/N) were best friends, but was this really something that he could help her with. He and the others knew that attachments for Jedi were forbidden but they had chosen to stand by their Vod and his cyar’ika. None of them knew what their general would say though.

“He might be able to help,” Hardcase replied, his voice low and timid which was a bit of a shock to the others considering Hardcase was always so loud and boisterous. Hardcase cast his eyes to (Y/N), watching as she lay there unconscious. He knew that this was going to affect her greatly but he wanted to help in any way he could. They all did.

“How?” Jesse snapped without thinking about his tone, his own emotions over the situation much more uncontrollable.

“I don’t know okay! But we can’t just leave her alone to wallow in her grief. Echo wouldn’t want that,” Hardcase snapped back, his usual volume returning though his words only held sadness and despair. A silence befell the room at that moment. The five men thinking over what they could do to help their other general, their sister. It was another few moments of silence before Rex went to speak up, his words being interrupted by a groan and coughing. The boys all turned their heads to look at (Y/N), all equally concerned for her wellbeing after what happened.

“Vod’ika are you okay?” Fives asked quietly, his hand giving (Y/N)’s a gentle squeeze as she slowly and carefully turned her head left and right. She could feel the dull throbbing pain of where she hit her hit, the bacta patch in the wound helping to smooth the spot.

She spoke no words as she took in the state of the apartment, not many things out of place but enough that she began to make a plan in her head of how to clean them up. She took another survey of the space, noting that there were now five troopers present rather than two. She didn’t mind the extra company, though right now she felt as if she wanted to be left alone. She tried to sit up, her body feeling heavy, as though her heart had been ripped in two. Her head felt foggy, like there was a missing piece of the puzzle though that was definitely the concussion, she deduced.

“General?” Kix asked tentatively, helping (Y/N) to sit up with the help of Rex and Fives. They say he up again the back rest of the couch, making sure to place pillows around to help her sit comfortably. She gave a short nod in thanks, feeling like there was so much more to say but no words to articulate how she was feeling.

“This is all just a bad dream,” she said, smoothing one of her hands down her face. This had to be a bad dream, there was no way her was gone. The pieces of her heart were scatter, the fog of her mind still swirling with thoughts that Echo would be home soon.

“I wish it were (Y/N). But it’s not. I’m sorry,” Rex said, hanging his head in shame that he couldn’t bring his younger brother home. The others in the room mimicked Rex, all of them feeling awful for what happened, especially Fives. The guilt of the incident weighted on him most of all, not having done enough to prevent Echo from pushing for the shuttle prematurely.

“I should clean up, he’ll be home soon,” (Y/N) said slightly dazed, as if on autopilot and not fully present in her own body. She went to stand up, a little too fast as she stumbled, being caught by Kix, Rex and Fives. They all looked at her confused, not fully understanding what she meant with her words.

“Who?” Hardcase asked tentatively, slightly fearful of the answer her would receive. Kix and Rex steadied (Y/N) on her feet, making sure that she was physically stable before letting go, even then their hands weren’t too far away. (Y/N) looked at Hardcase with an innocent smile, one to innocent for a grieving woman who just found out that she had lost the love of her life.

“Echo. He’ll be home soon so I need to clean this place up,” (Y/N) said moving away from the couch and towards to the kitchen where there was a very small pile of dishes and a warm meal prepared. She would offer some to the guys but it was Echo’s favourite and she didn’t want him to have any less when he came home.

“(Y/N),” Jesse spoke, his tone one of disbelief. Had she not heard anything they had said to her for the last hour? Or was this the denial stage of grief. He looked over to Rex and Kix who were already looking at each other, both not knowing how to go about this situation.

“You guys should go, before Anakin starts wondering where you all are,” she said, picking up the sponge on the side of the counter and beginning to scrub what dishes were in the sink. She surveyed the counter looking for anymore before her eyes landed on the spot where she hit her head, the counter covered in a little bit of blood.

“But-“ Kix began but was cut off very abruptly.

“I have to clean up.” (Y/N)’s words were sharp, cutting through the tension of the room like a lightsaber. She sighed and reached under the counter for the bleach, pulling on gloves and pouring some bleach onto a clean cloth. She wiped the spot down until it sparkled, going over it with a damp cloth with water and soap.

“We can help you.”

“Thank you Fives. But I’ve got this. I want to make everything look just right for when he comes home,” (Y/N) replied and used the force to throw the bleached towel into the washing machine and turn it on.

“Vod’ika,” Fives said, him voice quiet as he tried to move towards (Y/N), only being stopped by Kix’s hand on his shoulder. He turned to look at his older brother while shook his head, not want to escalate the situation to a point where they couldn’t come back from. Fives hung his head in defeat, feeling even more helpless than before. He was watching as someone who he considered to be his sister, denied that the love of her life was gone.

“He promised me he’d come home,” (Y/N) whispered to herself, a smile on her face and her brain still foggy. Echo was going to come home to her, she knew it. Fives again went to approach her but this time with the holotape in his hands. However this time he was stopped by Jesse and Hardcase, both shaking their heads just as Kix did. Fives huffed in annoyance, shrugging both his brother’s hands off his shoulders and making his way to the front door, throwing on his armour quickly before leaving, tears streaming down his face as he left.

Rex watched Fives walk out, the knowledge of how frustrated the arc trooper was weighing in him like a gunship. Rex turned back face (Y/N) watching as she continued to cleanse the kitchen, going over surfaces that had already been cleaned.

“He’s not coming back (Y/N). He’s gone,” Rex said, desperation in his voice at not being able to get through to her. He went to step forward just as Fives did but was also stopped by Kix, his vod’ika giving him a pitiful look.

“He’ll be home soon,” (Y/N) repeated, the force around her drowning out their voices. She was determined to get the place clean before Echo came home, wanting everything to be spotless for his return. Kix watched as (Y/N) in severe denial, the concussion and head wound she sustained doing nothing to help her subconscious delusions.

“Rex, let her mourn. She’ll come to terms with it eventually. Let’s leave her be.” he gave Rex’s shoulder a squeeze, signalling to Hardcase and Jesse to kit up, wanting to let (Y/N) mourn in peace. Jesse and Hardcase both cast one more glance at their captain who nodded in agreement with Kix’s words, begrudgingly agreeing to let (Y/N) have some space. Kix however walked up to (Y/N) and placed a hand on her shoulder, placing a bottle of pain pills on the counter next to her.

“Take one of these before you go to sleep at night and one when you wake up general, they’ll help with the migraines from the concussion,” Kix said, only receiving a very small nod from (Y/N). He turned back to the others who were now kitted up, following suit before ushering Hardcase and Jesse out, both wishing (Y/N) the best.

Rex was more reluctant to leave, not wanting to leave (Y/N) but knowing that she needed time right now, “if you need us at all, you know how to reach us (Y/N).”

There was no reply from the women and Rex sighed, kitting up and tucking his helmet under his arm. He opened the door and cast one last empathetic glance at (Y/N) before the door closed behind him, leaving her alone in her apartment.

~ Time Skip~

It had been another two weeks since the incident and (Y/N) was still in denial, her subconscious mind pushing forth memories of their time together to make it appear as though Echo was still alive. She smiled as she washed her hand in the kitchen, just having finished making lunch when there was a knock at the door. She used the force to open it, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Anakin standing there.

“Hey (Y/N),” he greeted a sympathetic smile on his lips as he walked into her apartment.

“Hi Anakin!” she said cheerfully, coming over to hug her best friend. She gave him a squeeze before pulling away, giving him a once over to check for any injuries but found none. Her cheery disposition caught Anakin off guard, making him tilt his head slightly but he said nothing.

“I just made lunch, would you like any?” She offered, moving back to the kitchen and taking down a bowl and two glasses from the cabinet.

“I’m okay for now (Y/N/N) but thanks for the offer,” Anakin declined politely though accepting the cup of water that she offered him.

“How’re you doing?” He asked as she sat down, a bowl of stew in her hand and her legs tucked up under her body. Anakin took a sip of his water as she answered his question though her answer sent a shock through his spine making him choke on his water.

“I’m doing good. I’ve got a clean place and it’s ready for when Echo comes home.”

“What?”

“My apartment. I cleaned it up so that way when Echo comes home he can just relax.”

“D-did Fives and Rex not-“ Anakin stutter over his words, placing his glass down on the caf table and staring at (Y/N) as if she had turned to the dark side. She continued talking however, as if trying to drown out what Anakin was saying.

“And then I’m going to make his favourite dinner and make sure th-“

“(Y/N/N).”

“Yeah?”

“Echo’s gone. He died at the Citadel,” Anakin said, standing up and kneeling down in front of where (Y/N) was sitting on the couch. She refused to meet his eyes, finishing off her stew and standing up, navigating around Anakin before moving to the kitchen.

“N-no he didn’t. He’s just-“ she stuttered out, dropping her bowl in the sink and running the water over it.

“(Y/N)-“ Anakin started but was cut off again.

“He’ll be home soon. I know he will be,” (Y/N) said, turning to give Anakin a quick glare before moving toward her bedroom.

“(Y/N) wait,” Anakin said quickly, jumping over the couch and chasing after her, gently taking hold of her wrist to stop her from walking away. (Y/N) stood still for a moment, thinking over what Anakin had told her, thinking back to when Rex and the others were her.

“I should get going. I need to shower and meditate before he comes home,” she said quietly with a sigh, shaking free from Anakin’s grip and heading down the hall, “you can see yourself out,” she said as the door to her room opened and closed, leaving Anakin alone on the boarder of the living room and hallway.

He sighed as he looked around the apartment, taking in the spotless mess of everything and how nothing was out of place. His eyes landed on the side table next to the couch where there was a holophoto of (Y/N) with him, Rex, Fives, Echo and the rest of Torrent company. Next to that was a holophoto of her and Echo, holding each other and smiling. Anakin picked up the captured moment, looking at the happy couple that reminded him so much of himself and Padme. He felt awful for not being able to bring Echo home, his helmet the only thing coming home with them.

Anakin made his way to the door, sighing once more as it opened and closed behind him as he left (Y/N)’s apartment, thinking over what he could do to help her.

“I’m worried about (Y/N), Master,” Anakin said as he stood against the wall in Obi-wan’s office. He had come to his master after visiting (Y/N), needing some advice at how to help her out.

“Why’s that?” Obi-wan said as he continued to type up a report for the council in his datapad.

“She’s in denial about Echo’s death, She still thinks that he’s alive,” Anakin said, shaking his head as he gave Obi-wan the run down. Obi-wan nodded along, listening to Anakin as he spoke. He knew of (Y/N)’s relationship with the arc trooper, even if they had tried their best to hide their relationship. Obi-wan had chosen to show his silent support, turning his head and letting (Y/N) be happy. He knew what it felt like to give up that kind of connection in favour of being a Jedi and there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t feel some kind of regret.

“But didn’t Rex and Fives-“ Obi-wan started, looking up at Anakin as his apprentice cut him off.

“They did. And so did I but she responded with ‘he’ll be home soon’ and won’t hear anything else about it,” Anakin said, coming over and sitting down at the chair in front of Obi-wan’s desk this time.

“I see. That’s not good then,” his master replied as he looked over to Anakin, placing his data away from himself and giving Anakin’s his full attention.

“He left her a recording but Rex and Fives didn’t feel right giving it to her,” Anakin explained, placing the holorecorder down on Obi-wan’s desk as emphasis along with Echo’s helmet that he brought as well. It had been a battle to get Fives to part with it but Anakin had said to him that he needed it to help (Y/N) through this.

“Why not?” Obi-wan said, somewhat flabbergasted that they hadn’t given (Y/N) something that was intended for her. He looked at Echo’s damaged helmet next, putting a hand against it and closing his eyes, allowing the force to guide him through Echo’s last moments. He felt anguish, anger but mostly sorrow for leaving (Y/N) behind.

I love you (Y/N). I’ll see you again someday.

“Because they didn’t want her to be alone when she found out,” Anakin said, watching as Obi-wan continued what he was doing. He knew his master was focused on his task, connecting with Echo’s last conscious thought.

“I understand that but they should’ve given it to her,” Obi-wan said as he opened his eyes and removed his hand from Echo’s helmet. He has found the closer that he himself had been looking for and he hoped that (Y/N) could find the same. He looked to his student, a defeated look present in his face.

“I know. I understand the denial but how do we get her to snap out of it?” Anakin said, desperation present in his voice.

“I’m not sure but we need to find a way, before the council catches wind of this.”

“I know but how? She won’t listen to anyone about it.”

They sat silently for a moment before Obi-wan spoke up, “Maybe I can help. Give me the holo,” Obi-wan said, taking the holo and pocketing it before using the force to grab a bag big enough to hold Echo’s helmet. He pulled the bag over his shoulder and made his way to the door, leaving Anakin sitting down.

“What are you going to do Obi-wan?” Anakin asked quickly by there was no response from his master as he walked out, power walking to where Anakin knew (Y/N) would be.

“(Y/N)?” Obi-wan called out catching (Y/N) as she was about to enter into one of the private training room. The woman turned at the sound of her name, eyes lighting up and lips turning into a smile as she saw Obi-wan.

“Master Kenobi! How can I help you?” She said with a smile and invited him into the room she was entering, closing and locking the sliding doors to give them a chance to talk.

“Actually, I was hoping I could help you,” obi-wan said making (Y/N) tilt her head in fake confusion. She had a feeling that Anakin had gone to his former mentor for advice and support and she had a sneaking suspicion that Obi-wan would be the next to talk to her about the situation. He had been there after all, the mission had been one that he led.

“Oh? I-I don’t need any help Obi-wan but thank you for the sentiment,” (Y/N) said, walking further into the training room and discarding her robe onto one of the bench’s against the wall.

“(Y/N), look at me,” obi-wan said, walking over to where (Y/N) was, “You deserve to be happy you know that right?” He said, placing a hand on her shoulder. (y/N) reluctantly nodded, knowing where this was going. She was over it at this point, everyone trying to convince her that Echo was gone.

“Haha very funny. Has everyone else got you in on this prank to?” She said with a forced fake laugh, moving away from Obi-wan to sit down in the ground. She readied herself into a meditative position, hoping that Obi-wan would get the hint to leave her alone.

“It’s not a prank my darling,” Obi-wan said, turning to (Y/N) and following her to her meditation spot. He sat across from her and placed the bag with Echo’s helmet next to him, waiting for the right moment to bring it out.

“Yeah yeah, tell Anakin to knock it off. I have to make sure I’m alert and ready for when Echo comes home-“

“(Y/N).”

“Obi-wan.”

“I’m telling you the truth,” he said, trying to get through to her about how this was not a trick. There was a sigh hanging by thread on his lips, the frustration of (Y/N)’s denial making Obi-wan question if he should just rip the bacta patch off.

“Well I don’t believe you,” she said, closing her eyes to try and tune out Obi-wan and his words. She knew that Echo was somewhere out there and no one could dissuade her from that thought.

“When have I ever lied to you?” She heard Obi-wan say, the question striking a cord inside her mind and her chest.

“Today is the first,” she replied after a brief pause of thought. Obi-wan sighed again, watching as (Y/N) sat in denial. Her eyes remained closed so Obi-wan figured that now was the only time he could pull out his cards. He pulled Echos damaged helmet out of the bag he brought, placing it on the ground in front of (Y/N) before pulling out the holorecording and pressing play.

“Cyar’ika.” (Y/N)’s eyes flew open at the sound of that voice, the hope in her chest bubbling up before she realized that it was just a recording. She looked at the holo of her Arc trooper, watching as his eyes seemed to light up as if he was talking directly to her and not addressing her through a camera. She took another moment and looked down, tears gathering in her waterline as she laid eyes on Echo’s helmet, chard and damaged beyond repair.

“If you’re hearing this then… there’s no easy way to tell you but…I’m gone. I’ve had this recorded since I met you because I knew there was always a possibility that I wouldn’t come back.” His words hit her like a turbo tank, making her fragment heart shatter even more. Her eyes temporarily met Obi-wan’s before they focused back on the holo of her lover.

“I gave it to Fives because I knew he would be the one to deliver it if something ever happened and unfortunately it did.” She picked up his helmet, the tears now spilling over her cheeks as she finally came to grips with the fact that Echo was really gone for good. She ran her thumbs over the visor of his helmet, holding it in her lap as she continued to listen to the message that was left for her.

“I just want you to know (Y/N), I will always love you no matter where I am. I will always be with you even when we’re miles apart. Ner mesh’la Sarad, move on and live happily, I know you can. Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” His final words broke her, a strangled sob leaving her lips as she clutched his helmet closer to her chest. She placed her forehead against that of his helmet, feeling Echo’s last moments before the memories faded.

“I’m so sorry (Y/N),” Obi-wan said, watching as (Y/N) broke down over the message Echo had left her, having to wipe a few stray tears away from his own eyes. This whole situation reminded him so much of how he had almost lost Satine when they were younger. He felt horrible that he had to do this but it needed to be done before the council caught on. He couldn’t keep covering for her even if he wanted to, wanting to help her as much as he could.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Obi-wan said, standing up and gently maneuvering (Y/N) to stand up. She was pliant and didn’t resist Obi-wan much, still trying to grapple with the message that she had just seen. Obi-wan slowly and carefully took Echo’s helmet and placed it back in the bag so that no one would be none the wiser. He handed the bag back to (Y/N) and placed the holorecording inside it alongside the helmet.

He took (Y/N)’s hand softly and guided her out of the training room, being careful to avoid as many Jedi as he could in the halls of the temple. (Y/N) remained quiet, holding tightly into the back that now housed Echo’s helmet and the last message she received. She felt as though she had skipped the second and third stages of grief, no amount of anger or bargaining able to bring him back.

Next thing she knew they had made it to her room in the temple, the door opening and closing behind them. Obi-wan guided (Y/N) to her bed, coaxing her to lay down and allow him to take off her boots. He felt like a father comforting his daughter after a heartbreak. He was pulling off her boots when she finally spoke.

“He’s really gone?” (Y/N) said, her voice distant and haunted, no swing able to meet Obi-wan eyes. Her eyes instead moved to where Echo’s helmet lay in a bag on the floor of her room, the visor poking out and allowing her a glimpse of his beautiful hazel eyes one last time.

“Unfortunately he is,” Obi-wan said sympathetically, following her eyes to his helmet before he sighed again, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No. Thank you Obi-wan. I’ll be okay,” (Y/N) said as she gentle force Echo’s helmet and the holorecording into her hands. She needed to be alone to process everything and she just wanted to try and sleep.

“If there is anything that can be done, please allow me or Anakin to help,” Obi-wan said softly, placing his hands on her shoulders and giving them a fatherly squeeze before he turned around and left the room, but not before she said to him,

“I will,” (Y/N) said before the door to her room fully closed behind Obi-wan, leaving her alone once more. She stared at Echo’s helmet, the plastiod charred and damaged, the blue paint scuffed and faded. She closed her eyes again, following the force as it led her back to the happy memories she shared with Echo. The words of his holorecording played over and over in her head as she stripped out of her robes and into her night clothes, haunting yet comforting to her.

She lay there in bed for another while, Echo’s helmet clutched to her chest like a tooka doll. She had made up her mind a while ago but now she knew for certain what she needed to do.

“What do you mean she left?!” Anakin snapped at Obi-wan as his master told him the news. (Y/N) had requested a private council meeting yesterday and had informed her masters and mentors that she would be resigning from the Jedi order effective immediately. It had come as a shock to most of the Jedi on the council though Master Yoda seemed to understand why. She had apologized profusely, but Master Yoda just bowed his head and wished her well.

“I’m not happy about it either but she resigned of her own volition. There was nothing that could have been done,” Obi-wan said, trying to quell the anger of his apprentice. He knew that Anakin would take the news hard, but he also knew that there was nothing he or Anakin could’ve done to change (Y/N)’s mind. She needed her time and space and they were going to give it to her whether they agreed with her decision or not.

“How am I going to break it to the boys?” Anakin said, dragging his mechanical hand down his face in defeat. The 501st loved (Y/N), always the life of the party and sharing her compassion for them wherever she went. She was their unofficial sister, their vod’ika as they liked to call her.

“I don’t know Anakin. But you’ll have to find a way,” Obi-wan said, mulling over in his head if there was any way that he could help Anakin break the news to his troopers.

“I know.”

“Maybe this will help her Anakin. She was grieving and she was beginning to get reckless on assignments.”

“But that’s not her fault!”

“It was. That’s why the Jedi are not meant to form attachments,” Obi-wan said, giving his padawan a look that told him not to argue but her knew Anakin was to stubborn to let this go.

“But you and Satine-“ Anakin started but Obi-wan cut him off very quickly.

“Satine and I were different. And I did not let me feeling get in the way of my duty,” Obi-wan snapped, not wanting to have the same argument with Anakin that they have had multiple times already. He had made his decision along time ago, even if he still regrets it in some ways. Anakin side and defeat before sitting down in one of the chairs in front of Obi-Wan‘s desk again, bowing his head.

“I hope wherever she goes, she finds peace,” Anakin said, Obi-wan nodding along as well and wishing through the force that (Y/N) find what she needs.

~Time Skip~

“The island is beautiful Phee,” Hunter said as she led the Batch down the island towards where they would be staying for a little.

“I’m glad you like it. It’s our own little slice of heaven in this crazy galaxy. We have a lot of refugees here and it’s a place for them to find peace,” Phee explained as they came to a stop outside the island inn.

“I can see why,” Echo said as he took in the laughter the island had to offer. It was a gorgeous place with a diverse community and a kindness that hadn’t been present in the galaxy for a long while. He surveyed the area around them before Phee lead them inside the inn, momentarily catching a glimpse of someone he thought was familiar. He shook his head though, believing he was imagining it, after all it had been three years now.

“I hope you guys can find the same kind of peace here. Away from Cid, away from the empire, away from the fighting,” Phee explained as she turned to the inn keeper to ask about rooms where they could occupy for a while.

“Believe me, I think we could use it,” Wrecker said, holding Omega on his shoulder as the younger girl nodded in response.

“I know you could. There have been a lot of people who have passed through here to get away from the fighting. And because we’re not a resource heavy planet, the empire just kind of leaves us alone,” Phee explained as she received the keys to one of the larger guest houses on island and turned to hand them to Hunter.

“Here you go Hunter, I can take you to the house if you want? Or let you guys wonder and find it yourself,” she said, smiling at the Batch looked at one another.

“We should be okay Phee. Thank you, for all your help,” Hunter said with a smile. The others agreed with him and thanked Phee for all she had done for them.

“Don’t forget, dinner at Shep’s tonight.”

She reminded them before she bid them a goodbye and head off to her own homestead, giving Tech a cheeky kiss on the cheek on her way out. The genius clone blushed and followed Phee with his eyes, a shy smile on his face.

Echo smiled at the scene, thinking back to before the citadel mission when he and his cyar’ika used to be so happy. His smile faded as he thought about it, about the war and how when the bad Batch had rescued him from Skako Minor she was gone. Anakin and Rex had filled him in on what went down after the mission, (Y/N)’s denial, obi-wan giving her the message and his helmet, (Y/N) leaving the order. It broke his heart to hear how much his supposed death had impacted her, he just hope she was happy, where ever she was.

“Echo?” Echo was snapped out his thoughts by a tug on his human hand, turning his eyes to see Omega trying to get his attention.

“You okay? Wrecker called your name twice,” she said, Echo’s head turning to look at his larger brother before realizing that the others were looking at him as well.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just….memories,” he said quietly.

“About what?” Wrecker asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

“About (Y/N)?” Tech said, making Echo’s head shoot up to look at his genius brother. Tech just shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing, “I over heard General Skywalker and Rex speaking to you about it when we reduced you. I am assuming the public display of affection by Phee must have triggered repressed memories.”

Echo just sighed and grumbled about ease dropping, not wanting to justify Tech with a response. Hunter had also heard the conversation but hadn’t thought it relevant to bring up, knowing that if Echo wanted to talk about it he would when he was ready.

“Yes, I was thinking about (Y/N),” he said and felt Omega give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“What happened to her?” She asked, her childish curiosity seeping out. Echo sighed and he turned to the door of the inn, moving to step outside. The others followed him out, beginning to walk to where their temporary house was.

“She resigned from the war effort after I…” Echo spoke though the words died on his tongue quite quickly. He didn’t like thinking about the citadel or how (Y/N) must have felt.

“After you blew up?” Wrecker said, ripping off the invisible bacta patch that those thoughts brought along. Echo and the others glared at their larger brother, Hunter giving him a smack over the head.

“Tact Wrecker, we’ve talked about this,” Hunter scolded him like a child. Wrecker looked down and apologized to Echo knowing that he may have just undone some of Echo’s personal healing.

The ex-arc trooper sighed and turned around, walking fast to leave the Bad Batch where they stood. They called after him but he ignored their calls, needing to be left alone for now. Echo knew that yes, (Y/N) had resigned after his accident but he didn’t like to dwell on those thoughts. The message that he left to her was still fresh in his mind as if he had recorded it yesterday, telling her to move on and live happy. He hoped that she was happy wherever she was.

(Y/N) sat in her secluded house on the island, reading a book and drinking a cup of tea. It had been three years since she resigned from the order and now she kept to herself, going out only when she needed to, speaking to very few people. Shep had been very welcoming to her when she first stumbled upon the beautiful island that Pabu was, a peaceful secluded place where she could escape.

When she first arrived, she shut herself out from the force, wanting to start a new life even if she had become an introvert. She had found peace and quiet, her new life away from the war and the death was something she was content with, though there was no true happiness. Her happiness has died with Echo and she hadn’t been able to find someone new. There were a few people who had hit on her at bars before she found Pabu but she always turned them down as politely as she could, talking them that her Arc trooper would be there soon.

(Y/N) was coaxed out of her thoughts at the sound of chirping, a blue bird landing on the windowsill of her home. She smiled at the little creature, one that seemed to visit her home frequently.

“Hello little fellow. How’re you today?” She asked the little bird, knowing that she wouldn’t get a response back at all. It was something she did every time the little guys came around, trying to strike up a conversation even if it was one sided.

However, for some reason this encounter felt different, the little blue bird staying on her windowsill a little longer than normal. (Y/N) titled her head slightly as she observed the little creature, the bird staring back at her just the same. She shook her head and went back to her book, reading a few more words before there was another chirp from her little blue friend. This time when (Y/N) looked up, she was shocked to see the blue bird had made its way inside her home, resting on the caf table infront of her.

“Hey little guy. You’ve never done this before,” she said curiously and lowered her book, continuing to observe the small creature as it looked back at her. It flapped its wings slightly adjusting its position before it took off, flying further into (Y/N) house.

“Hey!” She said and stood up, quickly tossing the book on the coffee table as she follow the bird to her room. When she rounded the corner to the open door of her bedroom, there was the blue Bird, sitting on top of Echos helmet. (Y/N) started at the little creature in wonder as it rested on the damaged helmet of her deceased beloved, staring right back at her with big black eyes.

“W-what are you doing their little guy?” She asked, her voice cracking a little at the bird continued to stare at her. This had never happened before and she had done well not to dwell on Echo’s helmet no matter how hard it was not to look at it. She had placed the helmet and holorecording on her bedside table a little while after she settled in pabu, her own way of having Echo home with her even if she didn’t like looking at his helmet.

(Y/N) watched as the little bird did a 360 turn on the helmet, its eyes meeting (Y/N) once more as it completed its rotation. The curious little creature then flapped its wings flew the little distance down to be on the surface of the side table, looking at (Y/N) again once he landed. She stared back at the little blue bird, her heart racing as she felt a tug in the back of her mind.

The little blue bird looked at (Y/N) unmoving and unblinking for a moment before he picked up the holorecording and took flight, flying out the open window of her bedroom. (Y/N) shrieked and raced to the window, watching as the blue bird flew away with the holorecording.

“No! Bring it back, please!” (Y/N) pleadingly yelled, running to the front door and throwing on shoes before swinging the door open and running after the little blue bird. She needed that recording. It was one of the last things she had of Echo, the only one where she could still hear his voice. She ran like her life depended on it, trying her best to catch up with her little friend. She bumped into a few people on her way along the island path, apologizing profusely as she passed a few men in armour and a young girl. She had no time to stop as she chased the bird further up the island, needing to catch it before it got too far.

“Come back little birdie please! That’s too important for me to lose!” (Y/N) called out, speeding up her pace.

“Was that…?” Hunter asked as his eyes followed the women who had just run into them.

“I think it may have been,” Tech said, quickly typing away at his datapad before pulling up a picture of (Y/N) from the Republic’s database.

Echo found himself in the square, wandering around aimlessly, while looking at the vendor stands around him. There wasn’t much that caught his eye until he spotted a little blue bird flying through the air. He smiled at the little bird, something about it reminding him of simpler times. Echo out his human hand out, hoping to coax the bird into landing on his palm. He felt as though he was on autopilot, never having done anything like this before.

To his complete surprise, the little blue bird flew down and landed on his outstretched palm, looking up at him with big black eyes.

“Hey there little fella. Whatcha got there?” Echo asked as the blue bird released the holorecorder from its beak, looking back up at Echo. The form Arc trooper looked curiously down at the device before his eyes went wide, recognizing the recorder as him.

“Where did you get this?” Echo asked the blue bird quietly, not expecting an answer. Rex and Anakin had told him that Obi-wan gave the recording to (Y/N) before she resigned, the message on the device one that he had struggled to record. He didn’t like thinking about the possibility that one day he wouldn’t come back from a mission, but he knew that the message needed to be heard. He stared down at the bluebird in the palm of his hand, his eyes welling with tears as he thought about what this could all mean.

“Blue bird! Where’d you go?” Echo heard a voice call out, eyes closing as he instantly recognized the angelic tone of who it belonged too. His heart beat quickened and his breathing picked up, suddenly feeling self conscious with himself. A lot had changed since the last time he had seen her and he had no idea what would happen when she finally saw…

“Echo?”

He exhaled a breathe he hadn’t realized had been trapped in his throat, tears threatening to stream down his face as he opened his eyes again to look back at the little blue bird in his hand. The little creature just looked back up at him before fluttering its wings and taking off once more, leaving him alone again.

“Echo is that you?”

Echo’s mind was racing a million parsecs a minute, so many things going on but all he wanted to do wasn’t turn around and confirm that she was really here. Slowly Echo did turn around and the sight that greeted him made him want to crumble.

There stood his beloved, tears prickling her eyes as she stared wide eyed at him, her mouth forming an O shape as she seemed to grapple with the shock of the moment. They stood there and stared at one another for a moment, neither having the courage to move forward before Echo spoke up.

“Cyar’ika?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper as he watched the woman he loved breakdown even further. She went to walk towards him but Echo took a small step back, feeling even more self conscious about himself now that he had confirmed it was really her. However Echo regretted his movement the second after he made it as he watched (Y/N)’s face crumble, the hope in her eyes dying ever so slightly.

“Echo,” she pleaded, her voice trembling as she spoke his name out loud for a third time. It was really him, he was alive, even if he looked different to the man she knew. It was still her Echo.

“I-I’m not the same a-as I used to cyare. I-I’ve changed.”

“I don’t care.”

“Really?”

“I don’t care about what has changed physically about you. You’re still my Echo,” she said, her voice cracking as she made her declaration. Echo couldn’t help the smile that graced his face as he opened his arms for her.

“I told you I’d be home soon Mesh’la,” he said and that was all (Y/N) needed to run into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably as she wrapped her arms around his slim waist. His arms found their home around her shoulders, holding her close to his chest as his own tears began to fall.

“I thought I lost you Echo,” she managed to choke out between sobs, Echo’s grip tightening as she spoke.

“I thought I was too ner sarad, but I’m okay now,” he said and felt her nod into his chest. They stayed there for a while, just holding one another as they grappled with this new, almost perfect reality. Echo pulled away slightly from the hug, tilting (Y/N)’s chin up and not waiting a second more before he planted a firm yet gentle kiss to her lips.

(Y/N) tensed briefly before relaxing again, reciprocating the kiss with just as much passion and love. It had been so long since they had seen each other and she knew there was much to discuss but for now, both Echo and (Y/N) were content to be in each others arms again.

He finally came home!

—————

I hope you all enjoyed this! There will be many more stories to come!

Part 2 anyone?

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cinderblockgabbs · 18 hours ago

Note

Who is your favorite mark ego? And in wkm specifically? :D

DEFINITELY WILFORD Or William whichever one people like to call him more. I like him because even though he’s like weird as hell he’s also pretty sweet and whatever like he’s got this really cool duality to him and I love dualities in general.

One of my favorite things about him that I don’t really see that many people talking about (hopefully cuz I’m looking in the wrong places) is like HOW he changed from wkm to wmlw.

OBVIOUSLY when we see will go insane after wkm we’re like, “yeah that’s the change he’s just crazy now” And there’s not much further to go into cuz you already get the big picture you don’t have to go in depth to understand more that he’s not all there.

But if you do go into depth for him, you kinda notice that after wkm he regresses, stays the same AND grows all at the same time which I appreciate cuz that’s VERY realistic I’m like wow :DD

Regressions:

He witnessed a very anomalous thing of the DA and Damien and Abe and mark surviving thru things that definitely should’ve killed them (it did kill some of them but I’m sure Wilford never realized except for the DA). This messed up his interperatation of death to the point where he believes that sometimes people just come back to life like cockroaches or something. This makes him more prone to doing destructive and violent things cuz he thinks everything is a damn game.

TLDR his regressions are being more violent and more ignorant about other peoples safety

Stays the same:

Through wmlw and wkm he still holds the idea of like “life needs a bit of madness” so he still likes his absurdism. In the ddlc poems he says that it took a while to realize the world was “full of pricks” but I think he still operated like that back in wkm, he just didn’t ever consciously realize it. He’s still temperamental but to a lesser degree. He still likes being a jolly old chap ermmmm yeah

Oh yeah and he still drowns in his own denial and he knows it but that terrible guilt is something he just lives with like whatever

Growth:

After realizing everyone sucks he dawns this moral code of optimistic nihilism. If nothing in life makes sense and he can’t control what he doesn’t understand then he just appreciates life for what it is.

He also grows to become more understanding, cuz I’m wmlw when he sees that Abe is struggling to grasp onto his directionless reality, Wilford doesn’t just leave him like that with nothing to hold onto. he stops cuz he realizes he’s overwhelming Abe, he finds a way to relate to him with him saying “it was a bit of a Shock for me, too” and then gives Abe something that he’s familiar with, a direction to just “have fun” ISNT THAT SO BITTERSWEET UGH.

He says in Adwm that he’s “a forgiving person” i like thinking of that line as a Freudian slip. it’s not like he has that many things that he knows he should be forgiving for, but there are a lot of things that he wants people to forgive HIM for. I THINK this is a growth cuz he was pretty crazy about not wanting to feel like he was in the wrong and not caring at all about what anybody else thinks in wkm.

He’s apologized to like, Abe, the viewer, maybe like SOME other dudes not that much whatever but I like thinking he really wants to see mark again to apologize to him but that’ll probably NEVER HAPPPENN IN A GOOD NARRATIVE SENSE

He did see mark in the warfstache interviews Markiplier thing tho and tbh it feels like big brother doesn’t care about little brother for 5 minutes except for the part where he literally kills him. Again.

ANYWAYS YEAH I STARTED RAMBLING CUZ I LOVE WILFORD TOO MUCH maybe the duality thing I said is wrong I think hes less of a duality and more of a like spectrum maybe THANKS FOR ASKING THO AHHAHAHAHAHAH

#markiplier #markiplier egos #wilford warfstache #wkm the colonel #I love you Wilford I wish you weren’t evil

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lalilaloli · 4 days ago

Text

So, I’ve been thinking and just had to get this off my chest. The reunion between Athena and Odysseus. Just like the majority of the Epic fandom, I was left heartbroken after that scene. I wanted more. I wanted a reunion which reunited their friendship. Instead their reunion was bittersweet at best. Some fans have even criticised how it was written and claimed that Odysseus was ungrateful and acted like an asshole when he didn’t accepted Athena’s olive branch with open arms (no pun intended! I repeat, no pun intended!). But can we give the man a break? When Athena left him, 10 years ago, they parted on very bad terms. Athena had then been Odysseus mentor for how long? 15 years? 20? Odysseus trusted her. Admired her. Both as a goddess, as a mentor and as a friend. Then came Troy. A war he didn’t even wanted to be a part of. A war which lasted for 10 years. And then came the murder of the infant. That was the beginning of the end for Odysseus. That was when he started to break. He never forgave himself for that. And Athena condemned him for that. Not for the killing but for his regret, his conscience, his heart. Instead of showing the minimum of empathy or support she simply told him to focus on his mind, not his heart. That he was suppose to be a warrior of the mind. Not the heart and that he couldn’t expect any sympathy from her. Already then the respect and friendship Odysseus felt for her started to crack. Because Odysseus wasn’t a war machine with a cold heart. He didn’t want to be that. Then all hell broke loose with Polyphemus and the death of Polites. His best friend, the one which encouraged Odysseus to be a good man, to show mercy and love. Now, was Odysseus an idiot in how he handled the situation? Yes. He made 2 gigantic mistakes (let Polyphemus live and tell him his real name) we can all agree on that. He should have listened to Athena but Athena had (unknowingly for her) already damaged Odysseus trust and respect for her. Odysseus was heartbroken, angry full of guilt and the goddess he loved and trusted now only seemed to treat him like a thing. According to her should listen to her, man up, shut up and stop being a crybaby. That’s not how a friend acts. So he was hurt, angry and just as disappointed in her as she was in him. In their goodby she threw their friendship in his face and clearly showed him what a fool he had been. So now had Odysseus not only lost his best mortal friend, he now lost his friendship with Athena and also found out that she didn’t even consider them to be friends. That for her he was only a protege, a failed student, and the things that made Odysseus a man, his heart, his conscience, his warmth, his empathy, was useless and only an weakness.

Now 10 years later Athena and Odysseus has gone 2 completely separate ways. Odysseus has been through hell. He has forced himself to become a monster. The last thing he wanted to become. The complete opposite of the man he once was. He done things he never can forgive himself for. Just to be able to come home to Penelope and Telemachus. We don’t know what Athena has been up to but she certainly has been in to some soul searching. That’s obvious in “We’ll be fine”. She has understood that what she and Odysseus had was friendship. That she does care about him. And that she might have done some misstakes in her past. Something which is probably quite difficult to swallow for a goddess. But Athena has grown and matured.

When they finally meet again they’ve both changed. In a perfect world Odysseus would take Athena’s hand and they once again would be friends. But Odysseus has been through hell and back. To get home he has sacrificed everything, even himself and his own humanity. He turned into a heartless monster without mercy. He turned into something that is no longer the man he once was. He turned into somebody he’s no longer sure Penelope can love. He no longer believes that the man Odysseus exists. That the only thing left is the monster Odysseus. He has lost himself and he’s terrified. Now Athena stands in front of him and ask him to try again. For his friendship, for them to make the world a better place. But he can’t. How could he? How could he now that he’s a monster? A man full of shame. And he so, so tired. He doesn’t want to be a warrior anymore. He doesn’t want to continue fighting. He just wants to be a husband and a father. And he believes that he’s change so much that he’s not even sure that Penelope even can love him again. So he can’t take the outstretched hand Athena offer him. Even if he wants to. He’s too broken. Too exhausted. But… I still believe that we shall se this as an open ending. A comma instead of a full stop. Odysseus is not ready to be Athena’s protege again, he might not even be ready to rebuild their friendship right now. But I think that Athena’s words when they reunite affects Odysseus emotional and mental healing. The knowledge that Athena is there, that she believes in him and that she cared. That she always did even if she didn’t admit that even for herself. Because Odysseus needs healing and he needs time. Time for once again be that man who believed in goodness and mercy. The man who was Athena’s friend. And, when you hear the softness in the voice of Athena’s final words to Odysseus, she knows it too.

So can we please give the poor man a break?

#long post #epic meta #epic the musical #odysseus and athena #this musical broke my heart #I don’t care if you think I’m in denial #I’m a firm believer in the friendship between Odysseus and Athena #ithaca saga #i love them your honor #epic athena #epic odysseus #athena epic #odysseus epic #Odysseus #the odyssey

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scoopsgf · 1 year ago

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there is no heterosexual explanation for this. only homo.

#stranger things #byler #mike wheeler #will byers #this literally looks like a poster for an 80s coming of age adventure movie with gay subtext #will is looking at us bc he knows. he’s not in denial. mike is looking away because he refuses to confront his internalized homophobia #i don’t CARE if you think I’m overanalysing. i am probably UNDERanalysing #shoulders blended together. mike in yellow will in blue #will is surrounded by a storm which signifies his hidden powers #mike has palm trees. he is will’s safe space his oasis his paradise #he has a moon where his heart should be. something something he was looking at the moon i was looking at his hand……….#what if i JUMPED

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mutalune · 7 months ago

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hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

#starlight personal #it’s very bizarre to have my life going objectively well - work is good! personal life is good! family is good!#and still be very mentally ill and feel like I’m faking it even though I know damn well I ain’t scream-sobbing every couple of days alone in #my apartment for attention because What Attention??? my cat????? Bug is never moved by my tears she cares only for string and wires #like I know that cannabis has been immensely helpful to getting me to fucking sleep on a regular schedule and that’s integral to -#my functioning and I know that having emergency klonopin in the event of a total breakout is helpful #and I KNOW that my PMDD and depression and anxiety are very treatment resistant and ketamine is the only thing that’s provided any -#meaningful relief and logically I know I’m not abusing any of these #I’m getting a promotion at work I still go out to see friends regularly I have hobbies I have a girlfriend (??? Wild right)#like clearly these things are working because i’m better now than i was for years leading up to now #SO LIKE. DON’T STOP USING THE THINGS THAT HELP. LOGICALLY THIS MEANS THESE ARE GOOD FOR ME #I always roll my eyes when ppl go off their meds b/c they’re feeling better like babes that’s what the meds are meant to do #if you stop taking them you stop feeling better - but it’s REALLY HARD to get past the cultural conditioning #the feeling that ‘but I can white knuckle my way through this I can force myself to live without’ like WHY BITCH #WE DON’T HAVE TO LIVE WITHOUT #AND ALSO. WE’RE STILL GENERALLY MISERABLE BRO. EVEN WITH OUR LIFE IN A BETTER PLACE!!!#DO YOU NOT THINK THIS MEANS THAT WE SHOULD USE WHAT WE KNOW WORKS TO BE LESS MISERABLE #basically it’s really hard to not feel like a loser when the only things that help are ‘fun’ drugs like weed and psychedelics #I feel like I’m being a hedonistic reprobate which 1) is actually kinda cool now that I wrote it out #2) @ myself were not a good enough liar-faker that every medical professional we see wouldn’t pick up on that if that was our motivation #time to remind myself that it’s arrogant to think I could trick many trained professionals without actively trying tbh #that generally helps me get out of my self-pitying ‘ohhhhh I’m awful and lazy and bad and abusing substances’ spiral #to be very mentally ill on main it is weirdly reassuring to be like ‘just as my fanon interpretation of obi wan kinda hates himself but is -#practical enough to take care of himself even when it makes him cringe and want to scratch his face off; I too am aware that self-care is -#radical and punk and In Fact Necessary to beat back the dark and live in the light with hope so yes even though I doubt and -#feel squiggly and guilty about it I’m not going to NOT prioritize my health and well-being b/c self-hatred and self-denial benefits no one’#thank you inner obi wan i love projecting my issues onto you mwah mwah mwah smooches for my favorite boy!!!!!#and smooches for me I’m going to be proud of myself gosh darn it even if I have to fake it at first #see I wouldn’t be able to be nice to myself like this if I hadn’t been doing ketamine treatment for a year IT WORKS BRO KEEP IT UP #SCHEDULE THE DAMN APPOINTMENT AND CLEAN YOUR BONG

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alagaisia · 10 months ago

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Stumbled on a weird website for a work thing. With no other context, what is your response when you hear this phrase:

Context: this is a phrase used by the organization that founded March 18th as “Global Recycling Day”, on a page introducing their position that recycling/recycled materials should be thought of as the Seventh Natural Resource.

The six natural resources that they claim “we” tend to think of as the most important are: water, air, oil, natural gas, coal, and minerals.

#recycling #poll #natural resources #I really feel like right after air and water comes plant and animal life???#humanity was around for a long time without doing much with any of the bottom two thirds of that list #what about like. clay. or metal? any metal?#unless both of those are considered minerals? I don’t know what a mineral is #I don’t necessarily disagree with what they’re trying to do by framing recycling as a resource we could be taking better advantage of #but I feel like they’ve made up a framework to go along with it so that they can have a catchy ‘seventh resource’ tag #instead of just going ‘hey we could think of this differently’ or putting any work into thinking of a different catchy name that makes sense #maybe I’m wrong. maybe everyone else on tumblr is going around like ‘i tend to think of the mitochondria as the powerhouse of the cell and a #also of six natural resources as the most important ones’#but. that’s what polls are for #just say like ‘the earth has lots of natural resources that help us and also we’ve created a __ resource for ourselves: recyclables’#__ can be something to replace natural. not manmade but like. anthrop-something maybe. you get the point.#they also on a different page said that recycling is ‘the front line in the war on climate change’ which like #i so fundamentally don’t see eye to eye with this mindset that leads you to think everything is a war on something else #also. strong language from a site that’s just saying ‘recycling is good for the economy’ and not promoting violence against the people respo #responsible for climate change denialism in government and corporate policy etc #‘women sitting at home knitting socks for refugees were on the front lines of WWI’ like. it’s important. it’s important and it’s taking care #of each other. but it’s not a war. it’s a totally different thing. your analogy is bad and your assumptions are unsound.#mine

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celesteleoves · 8 months ago

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hcs of bakugou / todoroki being a hardcore simp for reader maybe?

“I WANNA BE YOURS.”

KATSUKI BAKUGOU/SHOTO TODOROKI x fem!reader.

summary: what the request said!

warnings: swearing (bakugou…), mentions of todoroki’s childhood (very brief), that’s it i believe!

a/n: i love this request. i hope i wrote this to your liking!

—

BAKUGOU KATSUKI —

he is a very subtle simp. you probably wouldn’t even think he liked you if you guys weren’t already dating. the way he shows his love for you is… questionable.

he does the simple things like following you around like a lost puppy (even though he swears he does NOT) .

he’ll definitely demand you never leave his side so he can always be there to protect you.

“you’re so weak, you need me to be there to protect you at all times.”

you’ll just nod, enjoying your boyfriends presence. (he’s actually geeking over you aswell and the fact you grace him with your presence).

he takes you everywhere with him and doesn’t care about what anyone says. oh, aizawa paired him up with kirishima? you’re coming with. you can’t stay a second away from him before he’s rushing around like a headless chicken looking for you.

your biggest fan by far, anything you do he’s practically on the floor worshipping you. then the next second he’ll be calling your outfit disgusting in the sweetest way possible.

he’ll also deny the fact he’s a simp for you. one time, kirishima caught the poor boy gazing at you, dare i say LOVINGLY, across the room as you did a mundane task.

kirishima has never grinned wider than he did when he noticed this. your boyfriend noticed the quiet chuckles leaving his friend and turned towards him.

“what the fuck are you laughing at?”

“you stalking y/n!”

“I WAS NOT STARING AT HER.” sure… liar. you literally just outed yourself…

bakugou loved you, even though he shows it in his weird, weird ways.

SHOTO TODOROKI —

the sweetest, sweetest boyfriend ever. literally the ideal boyfriend anyone could have SIMPLY because of how doting he is towards his partner.

he’s absolutely enamoured with you. he isn’t shameful about it either! (referencing one of my other head-canons) .

this boy will downright show his love for you.

we all know shoto has a hard time with social cues, he blames it on his childhood and the lack of social times he had – always being isolated.

that’s also the reason why he doesn’t understand why he can’t stare you down like a hawk and not expect people to be slightly worried… why is he staring at you like he wants to eat you?

cuteness aggression is a thing. you both get it when you’re with each other.

you can’t believe you managed to secure this boy. he never opened up to just anyone, yet for you he made an exception. you flew that all the time.

meanwhile your boyfriend is still in denial you two are dating. every time you bring up your realtionship he’s blushing like a maniac and shying away from you.

your classmates notice the little things. such as you placing your phone face up only for it to be face down a couple seconds later because todoroki fixed it for you knowing you don’t want people staring at every notification on your phone (this is so me guys i’m sorry).

he is very attentive, he’s such a simp. he’ll pick up on the little things. sometimes, you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself.

there was definitely one time you had been making yourself a snack in the kitchen, forgetting to get one of your favourite piece of food for the snack .

once your snack was made, you frowned at the missing piece of your food you wanted.

starting to get upset, you looked around for something to make up for this.

“here.” a soft voice spoke causing you to relax at the sound of todorokis gentle tone.

“i can’t find my-”

“y/n. here.”

you looked at your boyfriends hand, noticing he was holding multiple variations of the missing food item you craved.

your lips trembled at his thoughtfulness and you pulled your boyfriend in for a hug as he returned it with a soft smile on his face.

he’s too sweet for you and such a simp!

—

a/n: guys, bare with me if there is spelling errors. this was not proof-read! i hope this was good enough, it was kind of short.

SEND REQUESTS! 🤍🤍

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osaemu · 1 year ago

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GOJO SATORU: HUNGRY FOR MORE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!gojo x detective!reader: fucking the serial killer you're supposed to be arresting might be the best (or worst) decision you've ever made. PART 2 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, public sex (in an alley), p –> v, orgasm denial, fingering, he cums inside, unprotected sex, degradation, praise, lil' bit of dumbification, hair pulling, squirting, dirty talk, manipulation/coercion, mentions of murder (he's a serial killer what did u expect), non-sexual mentions/usage of guns, probably more. 3K words.

author's note: wrote this instead of writing my research paper and studying for my math final. if this flops i will actually become the serial killer /j. anywaysss tagging @satoruhour @screampied @satorena.. and yes, the "season 2 coming soon" in the banner means something ;)

“looks like your little killing spree’s gonna have to come to an end,” you muse, crossing your arms and cocking an eyebrow at the man across from you. he grins back at you, and it’s almost unsettling—he looks a little too smug for a killer who’s just been caught.

“i don’t think so, sweetheart,” the man responds dryly, leaning back against the alley wall, features relaxed and at ease. he—satoru gojo—has been your target for a couple weeks, and now that you’ve finally cornered him, you find yourself feeling a little… unfulfilled. usually, when you caught criminals, they begged for mercy and showed a little more emotion than what satoru’s shown so far.

also, the criminals usually weren’t this good-looking.

you maintain eye contact with satoru while you carefully reach into your coat’s pocket, withdrawing your phone and unlocking it. unexpectedly, satoru doesn’t make any move to stop you from dialing the number to your boss, instead smiling coyly as you do so.

“so, you’re one of those guys who don’t care what happens to them?” you ask, tilting your head as you hold the phone to your ear. satoru shrugs and his grin only widens the longer your phone rings. ten seconds pass before your phone tells you that the number you dialed is currently busy, and satoru’s muffled laughter becomes unbearably suspicious. you narrow your eyes and involuntarily take a step back. “what’s with the smile?”

satoru scoffs and dips his head, pushing himself off the wall and taking a step towards you. “y’know, you’re rather brave, comin’ out to catch a serial killer all by yourself. and in the middle of the night, too.” he stops advancing when he sees you pull a gun out of your pocket and hold it up threateningly, a look of warning in your eyes. “okay, okay, relax. i’m not gonna do anything to your pretty face.”

“what did you do?” you ask suspiciously. satoru widens his eyes in mock disbelief, as if he’s completely and utterly shocked that you’d ever accuse him of anything.

“besides the fifteen separate counts of murder? not much, really.”

“i’m not an idiot,” you snap, cocking the gun and aiming it at his head. “you’re not the one in control here, satoru gojo. spit it out before i put a bullet through your skull.”

satoru laughs and holds his hands up in surrender. “fiesty, aren’t we? it’s alright, i like my girls with a little fire in them.” he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on parts of you that suddenly make you feel naked, despite the coat covering most of your figure. “put down the gun, sweetheart, then we can talk.”

you wait a second, scanning satoru’s overly relaxed face before cautiously lowering the gun. “what are you hiding?” you ask again, eyes hardening.

“a lot of things. but i think you’re talking about what i did to your boss, right?”

“you have five seconds before i shoot you.”

satoru makes a face and then rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, since you’re bein’ so pushy about it. i killed him, obviously. you’re a smart girl, shouldn’t you have figured that out by now?” when you don’t immediately answer, satoru sighs and shakes his head. “and here i thought that the girl who’d been tailing me for the past week would have a little sense in that pretty head of hers. looks like i was wrong.”

“shut it,” you snap again, re-dialing the number and letting your phone ring for fifteen seconds. when nobody picks up, you internally curse and think about what to do next. dialing 911 would be worth a try, but the look in satoru’s ice-blue eyes makes you think otherwise. despite the gun in your hand, something about him makes you entirely certain that he could overpower you, even if you landed a shot on him. and even if you just shot him right now, he’s been shown in the past to be able to function fine with a bullet through his chest. that’s how two of your subordinates lost their lives to him—by underestimating your city’s notorious killer.

so you decide to bide your time.

“ran out of options?” satoru asks smugly. he raises an eyebrow when you slide your phone back into your pocket and exhales a laugh. “you gonna wait for a big, strong man to rescue you? ‘cause i’m right here, honey, and i could be your savior.”

“that was actually the shittiest line i’ve ever heard,” you scoff, rolling your eyes at the self-satisfied look on his face. “are you seriously proud of that one?”

“well, it worked.”

he pushes himself off the alley wall and towards you so fast that you hardly even have time to process it, and before you know it, you’re the one pressed to a wall with a gun to the side of your head. satoru’s other hand grabs both your wrists and pins them above your head, and his face is close enough to the point where you can feel his breath—which is unexpectedly minty—on your cheeks as he grins down at you. “you really think i’d use a line as shitty as that if i didn’t know it’d make you lower your guard? tch, you really shoulda known better.”

you use every curse word you’ve ever heard in that moment and grit your teeth, rapidly thinking through all the possible ways you could get out of this situation, but nothing comes to mind. you’re quite literally stuck in between a rock and a hard place, with a gun pressed to your head and with your limbs out of commission.

satoru clicks his tongue and widens his eyes at you, leaning in closer. his lips are uncomfortably close to your own as he traces the gun down the side of your face, cold metal brushing against your heated skin. “not gonna fight back? that’s no fun.”

“the fuck you want me to do?” you snap irritably, glaring up at him and curling your hands into fists. satoru tightens his grip on your wrists and cooes a sarcastic apology to you, taking his time looking you up and down again. if you didn’t value your life, you probably would’ve said worse, but seeing as you were the only person in this ridiculously isolated alley, it wouldn’t be worth much.

“i dunno. didn’t that detective academy or whatever teach you anything?”

you roll your eyes again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you consider the possibility of your eyes getting permanently stuck in the back of your head just because of him. “y’know, you’re not giving me a whole lot of options.”

satoru laughs. “if i did, that’d defeat the whole purpose, wouldn’t it?”

at this point, death would be preferable to hearing his idiot talk any longer.

“so, i’m gonna be the one asking the questions from now on,” satoru continues, clicking his tongue disapprovingly when you scowl. “if you behave, i won’t hurt you that badly, ‘kay? keep that in mind.”

“thought you liked your girls feisty.”

“oh, that’s true,” satoru muses thoughtfully. “yeah, never mind, you can be a little bratty. i need a reason to fuck you stupid anyways,” he grins after a moment of consideration.

“what the fuck?”

“you heard me, sweetheart,” satoru cooes, feeling his pants tighten as he watches your eyes widen. your “tough” demeanor drops for a split second, and satoru can’t help but want to fuck it off again when it returns. your scowl deepens and you frantically think through all your options again, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do at this point.

“if you wanna stay alive, you’ll be a good girl and you won’t scream,” satoru murmurs, leaning in closer and pressing his lips to yours. you grit your teeth and try to shove him away with your shoulder, but it doesn’t do much. satoru smiles against your lips and hums softly, pulling away with an almost affectionate look on his face. it’s so at odds with who he is and what he’s done that you drop your guard again, wanting to believe that he really will keep his promise not to hurt you.

satoru sees the shift in your features and smiles tenderly, all traces of his borderline-sadistic look gone. he studies your face for a moment and kisses the corner of your mouth, letting his lips linger for a second before he pulls away again. “i’m gonna let your hands go now, m’kay?” when he drops your wrists, they fall limply on his shoulders as you warily study him, eyes wide with confusion. it’s jarring, the way he just… changed personalities within the span of a couple seconds. “i’m not gonna hurt you, pretty,” he breathes, dropping the gun and letting it fall to the floor with a loud thwak. “this’ll be a lot more fun for me if you don’t resist, yeah?”

oh, fuck it.

“okay,” you murmur, ignoring every siren going off in your head. you don’t really have any other options, and honestly, nobody was going to walk by and get you out of this sticky situation anytime soon. and satoru was pretty attractive… and you could just arrest him afterwards, right?

as if he read your mind, satoru smiles and promises, “you can handcuff me after i’m done with you. just let me have a little fun one last time, baby.”

yeah, it’d be a stupid decision to believe the sweet-talker towering over you. there’s no way he’s just going to let you drag him off to jail, but there’s a reason he’s stayed out of the grasp of the law for so long. it’s hard to live a life as on-the-edge as being a serial killer, but the reason satoru’s survived for this long is because he knows how to use his words. he knows how to make a person go against every warning in their head, and he knows how to get what he wants.

which, for tonight, includes you.

“you have thirty—no, twenty minutes,” you mumble, knowing damn well that this would be the end of your career as a detective. whether or not you dragged satoru in after all this, you could never continue your work knowing you had sex with the biggest serial killer in the city.

satoru laughs and kisses you again, lips trailing down your face and settling on your neck. “haven’t i already made it clear that i’m the one in control here?” he muses as he slips his hands under your coat and tugs it off. it falls to the cold ground and bunches up around your feet, leaving you in a button-up shirt and flowy, dark pants. “c’mon, let’s get these clothes off you.”

within a minute, the rest of your clothes save for a black lacy pair of undergarments join your coat on the floor, and the chilly nighttime air nips at your skin. “i’m cold,” you mumble, feeling yourself involuntarily tense up everywhere but where satoru’s hands cloak your skin. satoru laughs in response and presses his knee to the spot in between your thighs, and something in you snaps at the point of contact.

“you really are an idiot, aren’t ya,” satoru scoffs, hand sliding down to your waist. his fingers latch on the waistband of your panties and he tugs them down, exposing your already-wet pussy to the cold evening air and his eyes. “lettin’ a serial killer fuck you in a dark alley… what kind of detective does that?” satoru spits on two of his fingers and slips them inside you, instantly groaning when he feels you clench around him. “fuck, you gotta be the tightest pussy i’ve felt in a while,” he mutters, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down shamelessly. “do you not have sex with other guys?”

“don’t have time,” you swallow what would’ve been an embarrassingly loud moan as his fingers go deeper and deeper. how long are this man’s fucking fingers?

“aw, look at you, you’re so cute,” satoru cooes, smiling down at your scrunched up face. you look back at him through squinted eyes, hips starting to roll against his fingers. it’s true—you really haven’t had time to have sex given your already-insane schedule. it’s almost like you spent more time tracking the man who’s now knuckle-deep inside you than sleeping, but the slutty part of your head tells you that it paid off.

“‘m gonna cum,” you whine pitifully, squirming around satoru’s fingers as he curls them inwards, making you clench around him even tighter. a shiver runs over your body, starting from in between your thighs and spreading all over you as satoru’s fingers move back and forth inside your soaking wet cunt. “g-gojo—”

“call me satoru, baby, and you’re not cumming until i say you can.” with that, satoru withdraws his fingers from your pussy with a pop! and grins at the way you glare at him sullenly. he mockingly pouts and licks his drenched fingers clean, tongue lapping up your essence. “heh, don’t worry, i’ll make you cum more than you knew you could once you’re stuffed with my cock.”

although you’ve determined satoru’s “promises” to be dubious at best, he fufills this one after he’s spread your legs wide open and positioned his cock at your entrance. “this might hurt, baby, but remember, no screaming.” after you nod in acknowledgement, satoru slips his tip in and watches, amused, as you try to close your legs on reflex. “uh uh, keep ‘em nice and wide f’me,” satoru tuts disapprovingly.

and true to his word, it hurts—a dull ache spreads throughout your legs as his dick goes farther and farther inside you, reaching places you hadn’t felt in a long time. satoru’s hands settle somewhere on your waist as he pushes himself deeper, ignoring your gasps and pleas for him to slow down a little. your shaky hands move to his hair and you unwittingly pull on it, somehow eliciting a soft groan from satoru’s lips, and somewhere in the back of your mind you think that of course a serial killer has a hair pulling kink—it just makes sense.

“s-satoru, it won’t fit,” you whisper, feeling satoru hit an especially tight spot in your cunt. even with how wet you are, it just feels like you can’t possibly take any more of him—he might as well be ten feet inside you, given the pain in your hips. but, as expected, satoru only smiles tauntingly down at you and murmurs words of encouragement as he somehow pushes past the barrier and gets all the way in amid your pained whimpers.

“yeah, that’s it, knew you could do it,” satoru says sweetly, voice coated with poisonous honey. now that he’s all the way in, the ache from your waist down starts to fade into pleasure, especially as satoru starts moving himself in and out to get you used to the feeling of his dick. “just like that, pretty girl. jus’ like that.”

soon enough, he sets an unexpectedly harsh pace that makes your back arch off the cold, brick wall behind you, and even as satoru tries to keep up his “cool serial killer” act, you can hear his quivering breaths as he gets close to cumming. “shit, i forgot how fuckin’ good it felt to fuck a cunt this tight—” he mutters through gritted teeth. “‘m gonna cum inside, ‘kay?”

you nod breathlessly, chasing your own pleasure and not actually listening to the words satoru murmurs in your ear. at this point, it didn’t matter—all your pathetic little head could think about was satoru’s dick, and somehow, you forget that he’s a killer when he cums inside you. it’s hot and thick and it almost knocks you over—when was the last time you felt this good, if ever?

the coil in your stomach snaps and you cum with him, nodding along to satoru’s praises on how well you’re taking him. you squirt all over his painfully hard dick and suck in a sharp breath as you do so, body trembling from the force of both of your orgasms.

“see, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” satoru murmurs when you both come down from your highs, stroking your hair almost tenderly. you bob your head in response, face warm and eyes unable to properly focus. he stuffs his fingers back inside your puffy cunt and scoops the cum dripping down your thighs back inside, mumbling something about not letting a single drop go to waste. “who knew the pretty detective i’d had my eye on would be this good to me?” he cooes, grinning snarkily.

satoru’s earlier promise floats through your head and you force yourself to look him in the eye. “y-you said you’d let me arrest you after,” you breathe, back still pressed to the wall as satoru surveys you amusedly.

“oh, sweetheart, you’re in no condition to be giving orders,” satoru says condescendingly, pulling up his pants and grinning at you. his cheeks are still flushed red, but whether that’s from the cold nighttime air or from the heated sex, you don’t quite know. “we should do this again sometime,” he continues conversationally as he picks up your coat for you. despite the fact that you’re still naked and trembling, satoru drapes your coat around your shoulders and helps you button it up.

“but you said—” you protest, but satoru cuts you off with a raised eyebrow.

“you didn’t seriously believe me, did you?” satoru tuts, shaking his head. “i’m a serial killer. i’m not gonna turn myself in just ‘cause of a detective’s pretty pussy, baby. you should’ve known better, doll.” satoru wraps an arm around your limp shoulders and tugs you in for a kiss, lips pressing firmly against your own for a couple seconds before he pulls away with a satisfied smile.

he leaves you with a promise to see you soon.

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hoshigray · 1 year ago

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𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 | nanami kento

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: dom! Nanami x fem/afab! reader - nipple play - hair pulling - doggy style + deep impact positions - restricted movements (using his tie on your hands) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, love, sweetpea) - clitoral play - orgasm denial.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Oops, I did it again. Nanami being rough with his hands on your body. That's it, that's the tweet. Smthn quick thanks to MAPPA serving good food to the nanami fanatics on this week's ep

We all know Nanami Kento would treat his partner with the utmost care. There is no man you can put your entire faith in when it comes to your body than him. He's always perfect with you. Checking up on you to see if you're okay, rubbing circles on your back to calm you down from a haze, wiping tears on your face whenever he makes you feel so goddamn good. And let's not forget the kiss on the forehead he places so gently as he fucks you lovingly.

In terms of lovemaking and treating your body right, Nanami is undeniably the perfect candidate…

…However, there will occasionally be those moments when you’d want him to be just a tad rough with you. Nothing wrong with the soft, cutesy shit. No, no, you love it! But let’s face it; when you have a man who looks so deliciously alluring to the eye, with his broad shoulders and strong forearms that peek from his dress shirt, you can’t blame your mind for indulging with wilder thoughts. Especially when you express said thoughts to him.

And he listens to your request with his absolute attention. He’ll ask for confirmation before he does anything rash. And when you give him the green flag, your fate is sealed for the rest of the night.

“—Ggaahhh!! Ahaahnn!! Ken–Kentooo, you’re going—OhmyGod, OhmyGoood—“

“Shhh, don’t squirm too much, love.” He’ll whisper to your ear so hotly you nearly fall to your knees had it not been for his leg between yours, essentially making you ride his sturdy thigh. Your back pressed up against his abdomen while his hands roamed your body. One hand in your shirt, slipping your bra up to release your breast from the material, and for his hands to knead and play with your mounds. The other stuffed down your shorts and passed your panties, his fingers intimately close to your hot, wet folds. And you jerk when his ring finger presses down on your clit.

“Ahooo! Kento, stop, stooop!!” You don’t want him to stop — he knows you don’t want him to stop. “I’m gonna cum, it’s gonna happen—Nnnnmm!!!” He tweezes your nipple roughly, evoking an erotic shriek.

“You better come on me,” he demands you. Oh, how he sounds so hot when he does that. “Make my hand filthy like you, baby.”

But that’s only the beginning. Wait until you two move into the bedroom with his pelvis rutting onto the cusp of your ass. Face down to the pillow and ass up for Nanami to station you, and his hand in your hair, lightly tugging it. Sweat shields your body and glistens from the bedroom lights, your hands tied behind your back by his necktie. You’ve left with nothing to stand your ground, forced to take in his cock that churns your inner walls. And, God, it feels so fucking good.

“How’re you feeling there, angel?” Nanami, his pants and tie discarded with his shirt no longer buttoned up. The fingers in your hair massage your scalp. “Hmm? Are you feeling good?”

“…Uhhaaa—Ohohhh!” There’s no way you could give him a proper response in a position like this. Your head is so far gone that all you can think about is the commotion between your legs. The deeper he grinds his cock into your chasm, the deeper you sink into your blissful fog. Your hips begin to move involuntarily at this point; it just feels too exhilarating to stop!

However, attending to your bliss has its faults, especially when you’re not paying attention to the man making you feel this way. Because Nanami pulls your hair, forcing your face upright from the pillows. You cry at the sudden yank, exposing the drool and tears that trickle down your pretty face.

“You know better than that, Y/n.” His serious voice is on, your cunt twitches around his length. “I need your words to let me know how good you’re feeling.”

“Ahck—Mmmm…S’ too good, Kentooo. Y’ make me feel so good. So fucking—Ahannn…good….” did you mean for your words to slur? Who cares. Just don’t stop; please keep it going. Please, please, please—

Nanami chuckles at your words and lets your face fall back to the pillow. “Good.”

But don’t think the fun stops there. Nope. It just keeps getting better.

With your hands still tied, you now lie on your back to the comforter while he pistons his cock into you, one of your legs now on his shoulder to get a better angle to hit your sweet spots accurately. The wails you let out are uncontainable — there’s no point in stopping them from flying out your mouth. Your bottom lip is puffy from how much you’ve bitten it this entire time, and more tears fall to your neck.

Nanami looks at your expressions intently, mocha eyes never leaving your gorgeous face. It’s here that he finally withdraws his shirt and fucks you nude, sharing this intimate heat and passion with you. And, lord, he looks so fucking good right now. His tidy golden hair now with strands sticking to his forehead, sweat shared between your naked bodies, and his beautiful brown orbs taking you in like you’re the greatest treasure in the world.

“Ohhfuck, ohhhfuuckin—Ohhh!!!” Oh, God. With the way the tip of his cock precisely hits and scrapes your tender spots, you can feel your climax coming to get you. “Kento, Ken–Nnmphh, I’m gonna, I’m gonna—“

And then it vanishes. It didn’t come. Why? Because Nanami immediately removes his length from your slick-coated slit, the electrifying tingles in your body subside in seconds. Of course, you whine to him with doe, tearful eyes. So cruel. He’s so just cruel, but you love it.

“Mmmm, sorry, sweetpea.” You know he’s not sorry. The tiny mischievous glint in his eyes is telling. “Let me hear you beg for it first, the I’ll give my baby what they want.”

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rafesangelita · 2 months ago

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⋆˚✿˖° when bitchy!kook!reader’s best friend begs her to go buy something off of rafe for her, she’s forced to face their complicated past once again.. but this time on her knees..

warnings: s1!rafe, dealer!rafe, rafe is kinda icky in this ngl, groping, teasing, name-calling, reader makes rafe go absolutely dumb, flirty banter (?), rough kissing, lots of dirty talk, slight jealousy, slight praise, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, orgasm denial

a/n: s1!rafe is such a loser, i had to.

wc: 1.8k

“just go get it!” chanel whined, tugging on your arm as you rolled your eyes at her. she’s been begging you to score from rafe for about fifteen minutes now, a hundred dollar bill tucked between her fingers as she shook you by your shoulders. “no, chanel! i’m not really feeling a bump right now, alright?” you looked away from her in hopes she’d give it up already. you knew she was still mortified from the last time she tried to buy off of rafe, her form of payment being a complete miss when rafe gave her a disgusted look as she not-so-subtly got on her knees for him.

after she had to mask her embarrassment and play it off as if she just ‘dropped’ something and had to pick it up, she vowed to never face rafe cameron again. “i’m literally offering free blow, come on!” she exclaimed. you looked around the room, noticing a few stares in your direction, a sigh leaving your lips as you ripped the money from her hands. “fine! oh my god, will you stop that already!?” you whispered, reapplying your lipgloss before making your way over to rafe. he was surrounded by all of his friends, their boisterous laughter coming to a stop as you approached their table.

sliding the bill over to him, you felt the burn of their surrounding gazes on your ass. “i’ll have whatever that can get me.” you slowly stood back up, your dress riding up your thighs as rafe so shamelessly ogled your cleavage. “not even a ‘hi, how are you?’ i thought we were closer than that, babe.” rafe chuckled, shooing his friends off with the wave of his hand. without another word, they left, leaving you and rafe all alone as he patted the spot next to him. “i’m not sitting down. i just need my shit and i’ll be gone.” rafe’s smile dropped at your words, a scoff leaving his lips as he rounded the table.

“this is what you want, huh?” he waved a small baggie in your face, “take a walk with me and it’s all yours.. no money necessary.” he slipped the bill in your bra, his fingers skimming the flesh there as he threw an arm around your shoulders. oh, chanel owed you big time for this. “we should be together baby, we’d be the hottest couple in this bitch.” you hummed in disagreement, flashing him a glare. “i’m already the hottest one here, i don’t need you to be the ‘hottest’ anything.” rafe smiled down at you. your bitchy attitude only made him grow hard for you in his pants.

“you’re a bitch, you know that?” he started walking you two upstairs, his arm dropping from your shoulders before grabbing a handful of your ass through your dress. “aww, you think so?” you cooed, feigning innocence as you swatted his hand away. rafe settled for keeping a palm on the small of your back, your eybrows knitting in confusion when you two walked into a bathroom. “what are we doing in here?” you watched as rafe clicked the lock shut, his biceps bulging through his t-shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. you couldn’t help but stare at his muscles.

rafe is a pretty attractive guy, there was no doubt about that. sharp facial features, blue eyes that made it easy to get lost in, and his muscles.. god, those chiseled muscles were a weakness of yours. “you can stop the act, you know?” he stepped closer, his face mere centimeters from yours. you put some space between you two, taking the hundred dollar bill out of your bra and offering it to him once again. “i’m just here to get something for my friend. you can take it or leave it, i don’t care which one you choose.” you leaned against the sink, the dim lighting making your lipgloss sparkle.

rafe nodded, tonguing his cheek as he caged you between his arms. he just had to smell so good. “your friend?” he repeated, “you’re not talking about chanel, right? the one who wanted to give me head instead of actually paying me?” you laughed, attempting to push him away but he didn’t budge. “oh, that just strokes your ego, doesn’t it?” you glanced at him through your lashes, feeling your resolve crumble the longer he stayed this close to you. “nah, not like you do.” he leaned down, pressing a wet kiss to the underside of your jaw. rafe was starting to get you where he wanted you.

“come on, you tellin’ me that you don’t think about that night we snuck away from that charity gala and had marathon sex on the druthers?” and there it was.. the one and only thing rafe cameron had dirt on you for. you sucked in a breath, a shiver running down your spine when he nipped the sensitive skin of your neck. “that was months ago, rafe.” you sighed, your hands trailing up his arms. “i still think about it,” he started, “still’ got your panties from that night in my room..” you moaned at the revelation, your fingers threading through his hair as he lifted you onto the sink to step between your thighs.

“why did you bring me here?” you pulled away, eyes glazed over as he rested a hand on your thigh. “because i still wanna supply you, just at the cost of something else..” you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that ‘something’ was. “goodbye, rafe.” you were about to move around him when he spoke. “that’s fine, really. i bet that girlfriend of yours downstairs wouldn’t mind getting on her knees for me one more time.. y’know, since you can’t do it.” you froze, your jaw clenching as you turned around and glared at him. “‘i ‘can’t’ do it’. is that what you said?” you arched a brow.

“yeah. you can’t do it right, and that’s okay. desperate times call for desperate measures, and no one sucks cock better than a desperate cokewhore looking for her next bump. ‘matter of fact.. send her up to me when you get back down there.” he winked. you were utterly speechless. who the fuck did he think he was talking to? you were hands down the best suck and fuck of his life, and you both knew it. “that’s funny..” you pouted, “cause if i remember correctly, you came three times in the span of ten minutes,” your laugh echoed off of the walls of the bathroom, “it felt so good, you were crying. did you forget that?” you whispered.

rafe cursed under his breath, lifting his head to meet your heated gaze. he could never forget that. he literally had to pull you off of him, pathetic whimpers leaving his lips as he laid there dazed and overstimulated. “but you’re right, i’m sure chanel would love to come up here.” you kissed his cheek, not even making it to the door before he pulled you back by your hair, his lips clashing with your own. the kiss was anything but soft. teeth, tongue, you name it, you two kissed like you’ve been waiting to do it for months. “you fuckin’ bitch, you were just waiting to throw that in my face, huh?”

you giggled, pushing him back against the counter before kneeling down and unbuckling his belt. rafe couldn’t believe that this was happening again. slipping his shirt off so it wasn’t in the way, he shuddered when he felt your fingers loop through the waistband of his briefs, his pants falling down in one swoop. “ah, fuck!” he hissed, the tip of his cock already leaking precum for you as you wrapped a hand around his base. “wanna keep saying that i don’t know what i’m doing?” you looked up at him with those eyes of yours, making him melt into a puddle of nothing as you stroked him languidly.

“no— no! you make me feel so good, baby..” rafe’s lips parted when you gave him a lick, swirling your tongue around the glistening head before taking him in your mouth, your throat closing around him tightly. rafe stood there frozen, his heart beating in his ears when you swallowed around his length. taking that as permission to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail, rafe pulled you off of his cock, groaning at the sight of a string of spit connecting you two before slamming back into your throat, both of you moaning at the sensation. he looked so pretty when he was fighting the urge not to cum too soon.

eyebrows pinched together in pure bliss, rafe took his bottom lip between his teeth, his head rolling back as the sounds of his cock hitting the back of your throat reverberated off the walls of the bathroom. your mascara was starting to smudge, but with the black pencil in your waterline it was hard to tell you were messing up your makeup in the first place. “oh my god, baby, this is— shit, i can’t. i can’t fuckin’—” rafe was babbling nonsense, his knees buckling when he felt you take his balls in your other hand. “wait, wait, i’m so close. y/n—”

you ignored his pleas for you to slow down, only pulling away from him when he was right on the edge of painting your tongue with his cum. the look on his face was priceless when you started fixing your hair in the mirror, tearing off a piece of tissue to dab at the stray tears that managed to roll down your cheeks. “w-what are you doing? what’s wrong?” rafe stammered, his cock standing up against his stomach as you didn’t spare him another glance.

“i’m going home!” you chirped, the man next to you shaking his head at your words. “no, no, no, what are you talking about?” he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to where he stood, “come on, you know i can make you scream. let me fuck you..” he whispered the last part in your ear, making a wicked grin form on your lips. “fuck me? gross, no way.” pecking the tip of his nose, you pushed him away before opening the door. “wait, what about your blow?” he shouted after you as if to say ‘gotcha!’. turning around at the top of the stairs, you took the little baggie out of your bra and waved it at him.

“you should be careful, ray. ‘get too horny and can’t even feel when a cokewhore slips her fingers in your pocket. you made it too easy for me, baby!” rafe was in disbelief when he watched you blow a kiss at him, your hips swaying as you walked down the stairs. you were so clever he couldn’t even be mad. pathetically shouting a ‘so you’ll call me?!’ you ignored him, scoffing. “as if, loser.”

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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months ago

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trolley problem

in which fem!reader has been gambling with her life and spencer reid is more than a little concerned

flangst, hurt/comfort warnings/tags: passive suicidal ideation from reader, she keeps risking her life, that really grinds Spencer’s gears, established relationship, existential dread, existential euphoria, lots of stuff about grief and death and self worth, not advocating for this, pretension from the author, blasphemy probably?, reader gets fuzzy from prescribed painkillers, arguing, hospital stuff, mention of sleep paralysis involving spiders, reader gets shot but she’s fineee, I pander to intro to philosophy takers, bau!reader, neurodivergent coded reader, if she’s not exactly like you I’m sorry, bean soup a/n: one day you’re in a writing slump literally the next you are in your notes app for six hours writing whatever the fuck this is but I think I love it even tho it’s weird and I hope u like it too!! btw this was gonna be called cotard's syndrome but then I never once talk abt cotard's but if u care that might be interesting context for the motif of not feeling human/alive, WC 3K

Spencer hasn’t spoken to you since the doctor left the room five minutes ago.

The air is antiseptic as you take it deep into the hollows of your lungs and trap it there for a moment, trying to optimize oxygen intake without actually having to breathe very often. Hospital smell is as universal as it is suffocating. It reeks of everything but death—flowers, blood, bleach, vomit. A humiliating, desperate scramble to defy the very thing that defines mortality. It’s pathetic. It reminds you of the worst instances of failure and loss and denial in your life. It curdles your blood. Literally rots you from the inside out.

You’ve had ample time to ponder that smell over the last few months because you keep ending up here, and some time ago you decided the institution of the hospital is inherently absurd. It’s stupid to think you could avoid the one absolute condition on your corporeal form: impermanence. It is the only thing that is promised, and people still waste their lives away running from it. It is the ultimate self-fulfilling prophecy.

So around the time you acknowledged that hospitals are simply monuments to the self-importance of man, you gave up on trying too hard to preserve yourself. You’ve seen death too much and too often. You’ve tried staving it off with prayer and the miracles of modern medicine, and it never matters in the end because it’s all magical thinking anyway. All the wallowing and the bargaining and pleading never got you anywhere.

You’ve accepted that from the moment you were born, you were marked for death.

But you’re not a complete nihilist. You’re not even totally resigned to the abject certainty of death—because you’ve found a loophole.

Everyone has as many chances at escaping death as other people are willing to offer them at the cost of their own lives. Not many people are willing to make that trade—someone else’s life for their own—but you’ve decided you are. Because if not you, then who?

It’s not that you don’t see the value in your own life, as Spencer keeps making it sound. It’s just the opposite. You understand that you’ve got an extremely valuable resource, and you don’t just have to sit on it. There are things you can do. Choices you can make. Ways to defy death.

Just… not yours.

Or maybe you’re just in deep denial.

Either way—this is a philosophy your boyfriend intentionally refuses to understand. He gets mad, or some kind of upset, every time you try to explain it. Usually he ends up leaving the room close to tears. You never feel good about it.

Right now he’s presumably trying to give you the silent treatment and not doing a very good job.

“Stop holding your breath. Why are you—stop that.”

Spencer’s frowning, skin sallow and milk-blue under fluorescent lighting. Purple seeps from around his eyes like spilled wine on a white table cloth. Your stomach turns.

“Sorry.”

He doesn’t tell you not to apologize. You don’t expect him to.

“Why are you doing that? Does something hurt?”

Other than your entire bicep being on fire due to the 9 millimeter Luger it recently came into contact with?

“Not really. I just don’t like the smell of hospitals.”

At that, he gets stony again. Like, Medusa stony. You feel a tightening in your chest that has nothing to do with a lack of air. His arms are crossed. A silk lined blazer drapes over your lap, and you wonder if he’s cold in just that white button up. It’s translucent in this light, like onion skin, or maybe something less organic—the folds and wrinkles look like fabric, but lots of things look like something they aren’t. In the Pietá, Jesus lounges dead on his mother’s lap, his cheek pressed to her arm like either of them have warm flesh, and her skirts drape from her knees and fall to the ground in delicate folds just like Spencer’s jacket and looking at pictures of it you swear you could find comfort there too—but if you wanted to make space for yourself next to Jesus you’d have to do it with a chisel and mallet. You’re starting to think that’s what it’s going to take with Spencer, as well.

“So stop walking into active gunfire. You’ll spend a lot less time here.”

Every deep sigh (of which there have been several) calcifies you further. Ironically, you never feel less alive than you do in a hospital.

“I didn’t walk into active g—”

“I’m not debating it with you. It’s not a discussion.”

“So you’re just going to be pissed at me for the rest of forever? I mean, if it’s not a discussion—what are you gonna do? Break up with me?”

You feel yourself dripping poison in the well. Even as you say it. As his head tilts toward you slowly and intently from his spot against the wall, and his warning gaze is cold and unforgiving and weighs 3.35 tons.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what? Talk?”

“Don’t try and manipulate me by implying that there are no options between permissiveness and dumping you!”

“I’m not manipulating you. And I don’t need your permission to do anything.”

The first part is an incredulous scoff as well as a blatant lie. You are manipulating him. Chisel and all. At least, you were trying to. It clearly doesn’t work very well. His jaw clenches.

“Is this worth it to you? Fighting with me like we’re children solely so you don’t have to take accountability?”

“Accountability for what? I made a choice. I don’t regret it. You’re upset because I did my job.”

A beat.

Silence always makes you feel the gravity of your words.

“Do you believe that?”

His voice softens so much, so quickly, it splinters down the middle.

You’ve never been known for your light touch. For someone who sees eviscerated bodies nearly every day, and prides herself on her evolved understanding of mortality, you often forget other people are not, in fact, impenetrable marble—they are flesh and blood and bone, and you’ve splattered yourself in the evidence of that.

“What?” You murmur. You easily turn timid, when you’re afraid you’ve been too heavy-handed. Spencer’s seen you sob over the birds who hit the windowpane and never reappeared from the shrubbery—their delicate wings, their little beaks—he didn’t mean to, Spencer, and now he’s dead! He’s seen you spend forty minutes catching a spider with a cup and an envelope rather than smush it, even though you have reoccurring episodes of sleep paralysis wherein a giant arachnid is sitting on your chest, hissing and clacking its pincers. He knows you are, at your core, kind and good.

It’s a little scary for someone to know that about you. It’s a little scary when you see your own vulnerability reflected in their eyes and the way they speak to you, the way you see it in him now.

“Do you believe that the choices you make regarding your safety don’t concern me at all?”

“They’re… my choices to make,” you whisper, but you’re less sure than you were a minute ago.

“I’m not talking about that—I’m talking about how it feels like you are trying to kill yourself every time we’re in the field.” His voice shakes. You swallow. “You have been hospitalized for four serious injuries sustained on the job in the past five months. Every time I bring it up, you—you talk about life like it’s optional for you. Like you’re not only willing to give it up but are actively looking to throw yourself in harm’s way every chance you get. You think that doesn’t terrify me?”

There’s a small chip in the paint on the wall next to him roughly the shape of Africa.

“It’s not like that. I’m… I’m just having an unlucky streak.”

He snaps.

“Luck isn’t going to get between you and a bullet. Ever.”

“It’s my job, Spencer.”

“No. It is a risk of the job. Not a defining feature or requirement. But you keep running toward gunfire like you have a quota to meet.”

“Spencer, I’m not doing it at you. I’m not trying to get myself hurt.”

“Well it doesn’t really feel like you’re trying to avoid it, either,” he shoots back immediately, and you feel the anguish radiating from him until it lodges in your own chest, like it was always yours. Maybe it was.

You want to make it better, but you don’t know how, and even if you did, he’s pushing off the wall and crossing the room toward the door.

“Where are you going?” You call, a little too desperately for your liking.

“You need to eat something.”

Which translates roughly to he’s pissed and upset and he needs to leave the room. You’ve done this song and dance before.

However, food and an absence of him are contenders for the absolute last two things you want right now.

“Spencer, please don’t—”

But the door is already whooshing closed.

You stare at the grey and white checkered floor. Light bounces off the waxen reflection—some sort of parallel universe you can’t reach, perhaps. The whole room is desaturated. A mechanical humming threatens to drive you insane. It doesn’t feel like a place for living humans. You’re not convinced you are one.

When he comes back, maybe ten minutes later, nothing’s moved at all. In fact you’re not even sure you’ve been breathing.

The door closes as quietly as it opens.

This time, wordlessly, Spencer comes to you. You see his shoes first—his serious adult shoes. You wish he was wearing his Converse.

Then you see the bottle of apple juice he’s cracking open for you. Blue lid. Same kind you always get.

“You didn’t bring food.”

“You wouldn’t have eaten it.”

Fair enough.

You take the bottle with your good arm and sip shallowly—all that adrenaline and the subsequent interpersonal strife has left you nauseous. The drink is too sweet. It clashes with the tang of metal in your mouth.

Still, you drink enough to satisfy him, and then you’re tossing his jacket aside before balancing the bottle between your thighs so you can screw the lid back on. He doesn’t go back to the couch or his spot on the wall.

Spencer doesn’t pull away when you lean into him, but it does take him a moment to reciprocate. You’re still grateful all the same when he cradles the back of your head to his stomach like you’re made of porcelain.

“I don’t think you understand how upset I am,” he says quietly.

Only Spencer Reid could be furious with you and still hold you like this.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur.

“That’s not good enough. You need to stop risking your life like that.”

He doesn’t get it. Your brows flutter as they try to furrow but even holding that expression saps you. Maybe the pain meds are finally kicking in.

“I just wanna help people.”

“That doesn’t explain to me or justify your urge to do it at the cost of your own life. We all want to help people, angel. The whole team. That’s why we do what we do. But we don’t run into shootouts. We don’t split off and provoke people with guns when we’re unarmed and unprepared.”

“But it worked. She got away.” You feel a spark of fulfillment at the memory of Gloria Sanchez in JJ’s arms just before the ambulance doors had slammed you into your first cage of the night.

“We don’t know if he was going to kill her. He might not’ve fired at all if you didn’t go running toward him. That wasn’t strategic, it was reckless and irresponsible and you know that. I know you do. So something else is going on.”

The pressure in your nose that usually precipitates tears comes as a surprise.

“I just—if that’s how I can save someone, why shouldn’t I, you know? Why do they have less of a right to live than I do just because they’ve been deprived of the choice? If I have a choice, and they don’t, I should choose to… to help them. That’s my job.”

For a long moment, you listen to your own breath, muffled by Spencer’s shirt, and the mechanical humming, and something dripping, and the low, buzzy chatter of nurses far down the hallway.

When Spencer next speaks you get the sense he’s holding a lot back. His voice is taut enough it wavers slightly. Taut enough that if he weren’t speaking so quietly he might be yelling. It’s like pinpricks all over your body—not enough to hurt, but enough to make sure you’re paying attention.

“You can’t help anyone if you’re dead. Do you understand me?”

And yes, in theory, you do. But that doesn’t negate your original point. It only takes one life or death moment for you to utilize the most valuable resource you have. What happens after is no longer your concern.

“On the psych evals you helped develop it asks if you think it’s appropriate to sacrifice the one to save the many. The answer is supposed to be no. If you say yes you get flagged. The FBI frowns upon… lever-pullers. And that’s exactly what I’m doing if I let one person die when I could’ve potentially saved them.”

“Protecting your own life is not pulling the lever. What you’re doing isn’t smart or morally righteous. You’re just throwing yourself across the tracks, too. If you were to fail a psych eval right now it would be because you’re passively suicidal. And you know what? The FBI also tends to frown upon self-immolative delusions of grandeur and girls who like to play sacrificial lamb.”

“’M not a… sacrificial lamb…”

“No,” Spencer agrees quietly, stroking your hair. “You’re not.”

And you can’t react to the fragility in his voice, or the content of his words, and the fact that when he says it he means something different—you can’t do anything about it. You can only catalogue it. You can only know that he loves you, and feel a little guilty about it.

Some time passes. You don’t know how long he remains standing so you can doze against him. He does not smell like the hospital. He’s the antidote for whatever grief they distill from widows and orphans before aerosolizing it through the whole place.

“Baby?” He asks eventually. You know the lilt of it. He’s been thinking.

“Hm?”

He hesitates.

“Can we talk about you maybe taking some time off of work?”

“You heard the boss,” you mumble. “I can’t come in for at least a week.”

“I mean beyond that.”

You intend to respond, but by the time you open your mouth you’ve lost the prompt in all the brain fog.

“You’re so comfy,” you murmur dreamily. “Thank you for being mad at me.”

If he responds, you miss it.

You’re imagining the bed waiting for you at home, once the doctor is done observing you—warm, neatly made. Blankets woven with soft fibers. A mattress that will sink under your weight. You think of Spencer, who’s shaping himself to you, Spencer, who intentionally inhales when you exhale at night to make room for the rise and fall of your chest against his. You think of the imprint of his buttons on your cheek. You are both flesh and blood and bone.

Strange, pill-induced half dreams and visions and memories take over. You’re in that alleyway again. That man fires. You don’t blink or scream or feel.

Just before the bullet makes contact you’re standing in front of the Pietá. It’s massive. Spencer is there, too, holding your hand.

You can’t actually see him, only, you know he’s there. You feel his warmth, his presence, when he leans over to whisper in your ear. The way you know him goes beyond sight.

The Pietá—meaning the pity, in English—is 6’7” and six feet wide. It weighs 6,700 pounds. Michelangelo had to quarry the block of marble himself. He was only 25 when he finished. The Basilica keeps it behind bulletproof glass.

Jesus and Mary behind bullet proof glass.

God. Who’d try to kill Jesus a third time? He’s already dead.

Besides—they’re both made of stone. Bullets would probably just ping right off of them. Or maybe they’d shatter just like you did.

Probably not though. You’re not actually made of marble. You’ve no idea what it feels like to be a statue and get shot at. You sure know how it feels as a human, though—and it feels like shit. You don’t really know why you keep doing it. None of your reasons are good enough for Spencer, and he’s, generally speaking, pretty smart about some things.

Maybe you’re tired of being human.

Maybe you’re tired of sleeping on your arm funny and waking up to a hand in your bed that doesn’t feel like yours and remembering all the hands you’ve held moments before they couldn’t hold yours back. Or tired of those moments where you are being held and it’s so unbelievably perfect and then someone has to let go, or when someone you love hugs you goodbye and you realize that there will always be a final I love you, or simply getting older and watching potential life paths fall away like rotten fruit to the ground. Maybe life is sometimes so good it hurts and you can’t bear it. So you tempt fate. You walk a tightrope because even if you fall and it can’t ever feel good again—at least it can’t hurt either. At least you won’t lose anymore.

And yet.

It does feel good, sometimes. Sort of often, actually. Even when it’s awful.

Dead Jesus and Mary, with their marble skin and their bulletproof glass and their holiness and their virginity and all the other things they have that you don’t. Nobody can hurt them anymore. Not ever.

Maybe that’s something you envy.

But you doubt they’ve ever been so terribly, wonderfully alive as you’ve been, or as comfortable as you are like this, leaning into Spencer’s warmth and his softness, in the hospital, or the Vatican, or your dreams. Your bicep was ruined but it’s healing. You are capable of ruin and rebirth in the same lifetime. In the same day, in the same hour.

You doubt that in 520 years, behind bulletproof glass and unyielding, eternally flawless skin, they’ve ever felt as invincible as you do now.

You doubt they ever could.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic

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healmydesires · 3 months ago

Note

Ok so the recent post that you made on my filthy thot Logan how about you take the led of dominance one night instead of Logan and he absolutely loves it

a/n: nonnie, this is sooooo hot. I kinda had to adjust it a bit tho <3 hope you don’t mind! thank you for sending this!!! 🩷 mwah

you got my attention ꕤ (l.h)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: Though Logan lets you take control and show your appreciation, in the end, you're still the one begging for him.

genre: smut (with some fluff in the end tbh) (18+ mdni)

word count: 5,8k

warnings/tags: established relationship, same universe as this fic, porn with barely no plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, lap dance, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, sub!reader, use of handcuffs, slight choking, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, slight orgasm denial / edging but it’s short ngl, overstimulation, face sitting, doggy, rough sex, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk. some daddy kink? breeding kink fuck sorry. I wrote this while I’m on my period lol. lots of pet names. this is high key filthy. reader has hair, no further description though. after care. this is not beta read sorry!

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

You're sitting on the bed you share with Logan, waiting for him to enter the bedroom where you're dressed in soft, pastel lilac lace lingerie. You've been intimate with Logan many times before, so you know what to expect, but this time feels a little different. Your heart is racing, and you're feeling a bit anxious. Logan usually takes control in the bedroom, but tonight, you've been wondering what it would be like if you were the one to take the lead.

If there's one thing you love doing, it's teasing Logan. You thrive on the thrill of acting out just to get a reaction from him, and you enjoy being a brat more than anything. You love being submissive, and there's nothing you'd rather be.

But the thought of making him feel like you're in control, even if only for a few minutes, gets you all hot and bothered. You know Logan might take back control quickly, but just having that moment of power excites you.

You’ve always thought that stripping for Logan or putting on a show would be something fun to try one night. The idea of showing him how much you appreciate him by dancing to sensual music while he sits back on a chair or the couch, watching your body move, excites you. Just thinking about it makes you feel hot and turned on.

Logan’s entrance pulls you out of your thoughts as the door swings open. His eyes lock on you immediately, taking in the sight of the delicate lingerie clinging to your skin. “Hi, pretty girl,” he says with a playful smile, clearly appreciating the little fabric you're wearing.

The lingerie you’re wearing is a lilac set with turquoise and lilac flowers embroidered onto the lace. The cups of your balconette bra are pretty transparent unless it’s for the floral details at the top to the middle of the cups, barely covering your nipples. You can see his eyes travel from your chest to your waist as he takes in the elastic band, covered with the same lace pattern, of the suspenders. His eyes linger a bit too long as he takes in the small thing that barely hides the curves of your ass. A matching thong, the elastic band sitting just below your suspenders. Logan’s eyes wander from your covered core to your shoulders as he notices the lilac see through robe with lacy details hanging off your shoulders loosely.

“Hi,” you manage to respond, your voice soft and trembling. Your cheeks heating up as his intense gaze travels up and down your body, sending a wave of warmth through you. For a brief second, you feel the familiar pull to submit, to let him take control like always. But then you remind yourself to stick to your original intentions.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Sticking to your original plan, you clear your throat and muster the courage to speak, despite the stutter. “C-could you, uh, sit in the chair?” You ask, nervously. Logan raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your request.

An amused smile then tugs at the corners of his lips as he nods briefly, surprised but clearly understanding what you're trying to do. “Are you asking or telling?” Logan teases, his voice smooth, challenging, and dripping with amusement.

The playful tone sends a shiver through you, momentarily shaking your confidence. You know he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll follow through. Swallowing the nervousness building inside you, you take a slow, deep breath, determined to stick to your plan, no matter how intimidating his presence feels right now.

His response makes your heart pound in your chest. Mustering up every ounce of confidence you can find, you lock eyes with him and say, “I said go sit in the chair.” The words feel foreign on your tongue, definitely out of character for you, but there's a spark of amusement in Logan's eyes that encourages you to keep going.

You can tell he’s entertained by this rare side of you, and though it feels strange, the thrill of his reaction pushes you to stick with it. His eyebrow raises slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, and for a moment, you feel a rush of control that excites you even more.

Logan never takes his eyes off you as he makes his way to the chair in the corner of the room. Settling into it, he leans back, his posture relaxed, yet his gaze remains sharp and unwavering. You watch as takes off his shirt and pulls down his jeans, exposing his hard cock pressing against his boxers. The look he gives you, despite your attempt to take control, makes it clear he still holds the power. His mischievous eyes silently tell you he could end your little fantasy whenever he chooses, effortlessly reminding you of who’s really in charge, even as he watches you with quiet anticipation.

Logan watches you walk towards the closet, opening it before you kneel down on the soft carpet in front of it as your hand tries to reach for something inside the closet. His eyes travel to your ass, observing your curves, how plump your ass looks. The way your cheeks squeeze the barely there material between them.

You can practically feel his eyes burning into you—more specifically, your ass—because you know exactly where he's staring. The heat of his gaze makes you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. After rummaging for a moment, you finally find what you’re looking for and stand up slowly, making sure to give Logan a lingering view of your curves. The sound of his low groan reaches your ears, sending a thrill through you. You close the closet doors and turn around, carefully hiding the vivid pink, silky handcuffs you picked up along with the lingerie just days ago.

Keeping the handcuffs tucked behind your back, you walk slowly toward him, not quite ready to reveal your little secret yet. As you reach him, you lean down to plant a soft, teasing kiss on his lips. It ends far too quickly for his liking, and a deep grunt escapes his throat as you pull away, leaving him wanting more. Your hand trails lightly from one of his shoulders, across his chest, to the other, the soft touch of your fingers making his skin feel like it's on fire. You can feel the tension radiating off him, his body almost trembling from the contact, as you circle behind him. You know he could moan from just the simple touch, and the thought of having him on edge excites you even more.

You take the handcuffs, the sound of the metal clinking behind him making Logan’s ears perk up. You hook one around his wrist, half-expecting him to protest, but when he remains silent, you continue and secure the other cuff in place. You lift your head to his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss at his pulse point, making him moan as you finish up behind him. Walking back to face him, you notice a playful smile spread across his face, a look that makes your heart race.

“What?” you ask, mirroring his amused expression, but a sudden wave of self-consciousness washes over you as you realise he’s not taking you seriously at all.

“Nothing, princess,” Logan shrugs, his grin widening.

You roll your eyes at his nonchalance. “Sure.” Normally, on any other day, Logan would have you pinned beneath him or bent over his knee, spanking you until your skin is flushed and raw. But tonight, he finds it endearing to watch you take charge. So, instead of resisting, he decides to lean into it. In fact, he’s more than willing to let you explore this new dynamic and see just how far you’ll take it.

Then, you lean down and plant a soft kiss just beneath his ear, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Now sit back and watch. Let me take care of you,” you whisper seductively in his ear, your breath warm against his skin. With that, you glide toward the desk, feeling the thrill of anticipation coursing through you as you search for the perfect song to dance to.

A smile spreads across your face as you finally settle on a track that feels just right. Pressing play, the smooth beats of "Sway" by Majid Jordan fill the room, setting the mood with its sultry rhythm. As the music envelops you, you can sense Logan’s eyes on you, filled with a mix of curiosity and desire. The moment feels electric, and you know it��s time to give him a show he won’t forget.

You stride toward the bed, positioning yourself right in the center of the room, directly in front of him. As the singer begins to croon the lyrics, you let the robe slide down your shoulders, pausing just at your elbows, deliberately teasing him with each movement. Swaying your hips slowly to the beat of the song, you lick your lips, feeling the heat of his gaze on you.

With each deliberate motion, your hands glide slowly up and down your chest, accentuating your curves as you keep your eyes locked on his. You circle your hips, letting the rhythm guide you, fully aware of the effect it has on him. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel the desire radiating from him, fueling your confidence as you embrace the moment.

Temptation, conversation, I hear what you sayin'~♪

You lose yourself to the song as you move your body closer to his, still keeping a good distance between you two.

“Baby girl, you’re so hot…” Logan groans as his eyes admire your body, his eyes flicking back and forth from one place to the other like he doesn’t know where to look.

Playing safe but we're losing our patience~♪

With each sway (literally, like the title of the song) of your hips, you move to the rhythm of the song, feeling the music pulse through you as you notice his gaze tracing the curves of your body, lingering over every dip and contour.

The combination of his awestruck expression and your confident movements sends a thrill through you, urging you to keep going. You enjoy the way he watches, almost hypnotised, as you revel in the moment, fully aware that you’re in control.

Doin' things that my body is cravin'~♪

Your fingers wander from your hips to your backside and you squeeze your cheeks softly as you give Logan a show. The moment he sees you touching yourself like this, a low moan escapes his lips, and you can’t help but bite your own in response, revelling in the effect you have on him.

The pleasure of his gaze fuels your confidence, making you feel even more desirable. You relish the way he watches, captivated and hungry for more, as you continue to tease him, lost in the thrill of the moment.

So amazing the way that she moves~♪ She's my favorite dancer~♪

Seductively, you slowly turn around, then you sink yourself to the floor. Once on your knees, you crawl steadily towards him. As you’re slowly making your way to him, you’re never breaking eye contact as you smile up at him.

As you draw closer, you rise up onto your knees, your hands gliding along his ankles and tracing up to his thighs. You gently spread his legs wider, making room for yourself between them. Logan's breath hitches in his throat at your boldness, and you can’t help but smile coyly as you bite your bottom lip, savouring his reaction.

Your hands continue their journey, moving from his thighs to his hips and then to his waist, feeling the heat radiating off him. Slowly but sensually, you rise in front of him, each movement deliberate, exuding confidence and allure as you prepare to captivate him even further.

“You’re breathtaking…” he moans your name while your lips move to ghost over his lips. You feel and see his squirm against the hold of the handcuffs.

You smirk as you hover your hips over his lap. Using the music to your advantage, you move your body to the rhythm of the song, making sure to emphasise on your movements. Your arms around his neck as you slowly lower your lower body on his lap, sitting down, your heat against his clothed cock straining against his underwear. Pressing your needy and throbbing clit against his dick. His eyes are gazing into yours, all you can see is lust and desire. You grind against his crotch making Logan groan at your movements. Finally you lean down your lips against his, swallowing his moans in your mouth.

“You’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispers breathily against your lips as you continue your little performance, swaying and grinding your hips against his. You hum with a smile before you capture his lips again.

His mouth moves against yours, slow and passionate. He parts his lips slightly to catch his breath. Your tongue sweeps across Logan’s lips making him gasp, tongue wrapping itself against his a moment later, hot and wet and steady as you taste his mouth and kiss him deeply.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands wander all over his body. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet the more you grind against him. You whimper at the feel of him bucking his hips against yours, wrapping your arms around his neck and initiating a hungry kiss. The thong you’re wearing surely ruined by now, clinging against your wet folds.

Soon the music would fade into the background as all you can focus on is him. Logan’s leaning his head forward as much as he can, wanting so badly to grab handfuls of your ass while slipping his tongue into your mouth. He moans into your mouth, biting and sucking on your bottom lip.

You begin to rock your hips against his, dragging your core over his crotch, the friction sending pleasurable sensations coursing through you. However, a wave of self-consciousness washes over you, leaving you unsure about how to proceed. Despite this uncertainty, you continue the movement, instinctively seeking relief for the ache building in your core.

Logan notices the hesitation in your movements, his perceptive gaze catching the flicker of insecurity in your eyes. He starts to thrust his hips against yours, urging you on. “Good girl, you can do it,” he says in his low, deep voice, the words igniting a whimper from your lips as you pick up the pace, guiding your hips a bit faster in response.

“Need you, kitten. Please, I need to feel you. Take these panties off,” he pleads, his tone dripping with desire. You shake your head, refusing to comply, which only draws a chuckle from him as he watches you squirm on top of him.

“I don’t take orders from you. I’ll choose when I want to take them off,” you retort, feeling a thrill of defiance as his eyes wander from your face to your soaked panties. The big wet spot at the front betrays just how much you want his cock filling you up, pushing deep inside and making a mess.

“Just you wait until I’m out of these,” Logan replies, maintaining that boyish smile that makes your heart race. You hardly care about his playful threat; instead, you steady yourself on his shoulders and keep grinding your clit against his clothed cock. He’s right about the panties, but you’re not about to let him dictate the moment. Reaching down, you push the fabric aside, letting your pussy lips glide against him, the contact sending shivers through your body.

“Oh, kitten,” he moans, captivated by the sight of your arousal dripping down onto his underwear. “Look at you.” His low, sultry voice sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the sensation of his throbbing cock against your wetness nearly overwhelming.

“Feels so fucking good,” you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as waves of pleasure wash over you.

As the pressure builds toward your orgasm, you suddenly stand up, discarding the delicate lingerie that clings to you. As you’re undressing yourself in front of him he can’t help but growl. You glance at him cautiously, as he stares at you hungrily. You’re longing for him to taste you but feeling a hint of embarrassment about taking the initiative. It’s as if he can read your mind when he says, “Go ahead baby girl, let me taste you.” His encouragement sparks a rush of confidence within you, urging you to take control and fully embrace the moment.

His choice of words only heightens your arousal, making it feel as if he’s the one compelling you to act. Logan's cock is oozing with precum, and you can feel the dampness spreading on his underwear as you hook a leg over his shoulder, bringing yourself closer to him.

You stretch a bit uncomfortably in this position, but any discomfort fades away the moment he leans forward and licks from your entrance to the top of your clit.

A loud moan escapes you as his warm, wet tongue finally makes contact with your pussy. You sigh into the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, anchoring yourself as you urge him deeper. His tongue glides up your folds, skillfully exploring your puffy lips, occasionally pausing to plant soft kisses on your clit. He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth.

Logan groans against you, sending delicious vibrations coursing through your body as you tug on his hair, lost in the pleasure. You find yourself grinding your hips forward, desperately seeking more contact as your arousal drips down into his beard.

“That’s it, good girl, use my fuckin’ mouth,” he moans against you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently. He alternates between sucking it in and releasing it, the repetitive motion making your head spin. “Taste so good.”

“Fuck, Lo—” you whine as you grind yourself against his lips.

Each flick and tug sends you spiralling, and you begin to whine, yearning for his large fingers to fill your tight little hole. Frustration simmers beneath the surface as you slip deeper into that precious sub headspace, becoming acutely aware of his restrained hands. Logan picks up on your shift in mood immediately.

“Please, Lo,” you cry out, desperation lacing your voice. You need him so badly it borders on painful.

“Please, what?” he retorts, then dives his tongue into your clenching hole, making you gasp. He groans, fucking your little pussy with his tongue, his nose brushing tantalizingly over your clit. “This is what you wanted, ain’t that right?”

“F-fuck, ah, I’m gonna c-cum,” you gasp, urgency spilling from your lips instead of a question. The relentless contact of his nose against your sensitive clit pushes you to the edge, and your pussy contracts around his tongue, releasing a wave of pleasure. You scream his name repeatedly, tugging at his hair with a mix of urgency and desperation, your ears ringing as the world around you fades into bliss, unaware of the metal cuffs breaking free.

You can feel his hands on your skin, the heat of your orgasm squirting out of you, painting his mouth beautifully as he continues to feast on your cunt. You breathe heavily as Logan moans loudly at the sweet taste of you, feeling both blissed out and utterly exposed.

You’re still coming down from your high when suddenly, you yelp in surprise as he lifts you with ease, your trembling legs instinctively wrapping around his body. In one fluid motion, Logan throws you onto the bed, and a whine escapes your lips as you feel the familiar neediness surge within you, your pussy so slick and wanting for more.

He pulls his boxers down, letting his erection finally spring free. Logan’s thick and big cock is so hard, dripping with precum and you almost whimper at the sight of it. He then makes his way up to the bed. Situating himself between your legs he smiles deviously.

Oh—

“Get on your hands and knees for me, kitten. I’ll show you who’s in control.”

Your cheeks flare up furiously at his request, you feel your body trembling with excitement as you flip on your stomach, getting on your hands and knees, your face down on the mattress as you raise your ass in the air for him. Logan groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.

You bite your bottom lip and can’t help getting even more aroused as you think about finally having him inside.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby. All dripping wet for me,” he whispers to you and you feel his fingers sliding up and down your slit and then opening your folds for him to see.

You wanted to tell him how he’s the only one that can do this to you, how much you love him, but then he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, parting them as he quickly leans down and licks up your exposed pussy, catching you completely by surprise making you almost fall on the bed, your arms almost giving out on you.

You feel your inner walls clenching around nothing as he keeps licking up and down and sucking on your clit. When you whine, his tongue swirls around your entrance.

“F-fuck, s-so sensitive. Da-daddy please, oh—”

But then he pulls his lips away from your lower ones and you whimper desperately at the loss of the feeling of his tongue, only to have him kiss your lower back and up your spine, hands sliding up and down your body.

“Please,” you whine pathetically.

You can't see it, but he's smiling down at you, shaking his head as he revels in his victory over the battle for control. “What happened, baby? Suddenly you need my help?”

You shake your head yes rapidly, not caring how desperate you look. “Please, please, I’ll be good for you, please. I’ll be your good girl.”

“I thought you wanted to be in control,” he pokes fun at you, his hips not touching as he places soft kisses down your back. You wish he was fucking into you already. You start to whine when you feel his thumb press into your clit. He doesn’t move it at all, just applies slight pressure and lets it rest there. “But you need your daddy, don’t you? You need me so badly. Pathetic little kitty.”

“I-I do,” you gasp, frustrated by his unmoving thumb. Your body is trembling in anticipation. “Please daddy.”

A moment later you feel him grind his thick cock against your dripping heat, you’re aching for him to fill you up. A loud moan fills the room along with your whines, with a strong grip on your hips a second later he eases the tip inside, making you gasp as your whole body trembles.

“Please…” You whine desperately as you feel him halt his movements, a small portion of the tip only inside you. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.

“Patience baby girl,”

You whimper as he finally slides more and more of his thickness inside of you. You squeeze your eyes tightly as he fills you up. The pressure of his cock deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“Take it, princess. Take daddy’s cock.”

Then his massive cock is completely splitting you open. Logan thrusts his whole length into you, black dots cover your vision at the feeling of it. Your pussy pulses around him as you struggle to adjust to his size.

“Ah, fuck!” Tears are already dripping down your face onto the mattress. His cock is so big, long and hard and he makes your pussy and tummy feel so full of him.

You whimper at the new angle, struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. It feels as though your pussy can never fully adjust to his size. As your walls squeeze around him, trying to adapt, Logan uses more force to push deeper, stretching you further. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, as it feels like you’re being torn open, split in half by his thickness.

“Oh, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” he soothes and starts moving, fucking you at an impossible pace. The sound of your ass slapping against him fills the room along with both of your frantic moans. His heavy balls are hitting against your clit with every thrust. The feeling is heaven on earth.

All you can answer with are moans as they slip off your lips. Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell Logan, breathlessly, about how good he makes you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Logan picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the mattress to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, you whine as you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his thick cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, the tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood daddy, p-please more…”

“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once, making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder with each movement, blending with the slick sounds of your pussy meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with the little noises of pleasure escaping your mouth.

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Logan asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”

“Yes, daddy. Fuck, please… Can I please cum?” you ask this time, completely out of breath.

“No, you little brat,” Logan growls, picking up the pace even more. He grabs you by your hair, jerks your head up and pulls you back towards him. “Patience.”

The delicious thrusts of his cock don’t falter as he presses your back into his chest. He wraps a strong hand around your throat, and the other arm holds you steady by the waist.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you whimper repeatedly, your body trembling with need.

“Oh, I know you can,” he says aggressively. “I know you fuckin’ can. And you will.”

He grinds his hips in circles, and you nearly scream from the overwhelming sensation. You desperately try to hold back the orgasm that's building rapidly, clenching your pussy tightly around his thick cock. He lets out deep moans at the feeling of you, fully aware that he’s close to cumming but wanting to savour your pussy for just a little longer. Logan slows his pace slightly, giving both of you a brief moment to catch your breath before he picks up the rhythm again, quick and rough.

“Look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.” Logan cursed when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “I’m gonna fill this pussy up, kitten, make it all nice and full,” he promises.

The head of his cock rubs against your walls deliciously, snapping you out of your small daze as you nod frantically. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up daddy!” You’re whimpering with every thrust of his cock.

“Tell me who’s in control and I’ll let you cum,” he says slowly into your ear, grip around your throat tightening a bit and making the feeling that more intense.

“You, Lo,” you manage to get out, “Always you.”

“Cum on my cock then,” Logan gives you permission. Another few thrusts is all it takes to send you over the edge, shouting out his name as your ears ring from the pressure. You’re on cloud nine as you let your body relax and feel the brutal pounding of his cock. It drags inside of you so perfectly, hitting every sweet spot you have. Your needy cunt is clenching, throbbing, and milking his cock while you cum all over him. Logan groans in your ear as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him for his orgasm, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised. “This pussy was made for me. So fuckin’ tight wrapped around me.”

Your cum drips down both of your legs, coating his cock and balls, quickly forming a wet spot on the sheets beneath you. As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, Logan talks you through it, whispering dirty nothings in your ear. He gasps as you pulse around him, desperate for him to spill his load inside you, needing to witness him fall apart.

“Ah, shit—” he rasps, thrusting deeper, the bulbous head of his cock hitting your cervix with delicious force. “Are you going to take my cum like a good girl? Let me fill you up until you’re a messy little thing, hm?”

You shiver at his words, your mouth dropping open in awe as you close your eyes, completely lost in the sensation, nodding eagerly. “Please, please.”

Moments later, you feel him unravel against you, and soon his cum starts to shoot deep inside you.

“Fuck, just like that,” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “Such a good baby girl.”

As his thrusts come to a complete stop, he pulls out of you, and you let your body fall limp against the mattress, feeling utterly drained. Soon Logan wraps an arm around you, effortlessly spinning you around to pull you against his chest. He kisses you softly, and you moan at the taste of yourself still on his lips. As he pulls away, he gazes down at you with soft eyes and a charming smile, the warmth of the moment enveloping you both.

“Sorry for ruining your little plan,” Logan teases gently, a playful glint in his eyes.

“No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, smiling up at him. “I figured I’d give it a try… but I feel like I’m not that great at it.”

He shakes his head, leaning closer. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweet girl. That was so fuckin' hot. In fact, I might want you to try it again.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your eyes brightening at his praise.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Maybe next time, I can teach you a thing or two about taking control.”

“Really?” You smile happily, your fingers running through his messy dark hair.

“Mhm,” he hums, his heart swelling at your excitement.

Biting your lip bashfully, you shrug, looking up at him with a shy smile. “I much prefer having you in control, though.”

“That so?” Logan smirks mischievously, his hands beginning to wander all over your body, reigniting the familiar heat between you.

“Yes, you’re so hot when you’re dominant,” you giggle, leaning up to cover Logan’s face with playful kisses.

“Oh, just when I’m dominant?” he teases, smirking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Logan, you know what I mean!” you pout, continuing to pepper kisses all over his face. “You’re always hot!”

Logan chuckles, his deep voice vibrating through you as he gently cups your cheeks with both hands, trying to capture your lips. Once he does, he presses a series of quick, light pecks against your mouth, grinning widely. You giggle against him, the sound filling the space between you both as he keeps chasing your lips, clearly enjoying the lighthearted moment.

“I love you so much, baby. You mean everything to me,” Logan murmurs against your lips, his voice low and full of emotion. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him closer as his warmth surrounds you.

With a gentle roll, Logan shifts your bodies, laying you down so your back sinks into the softness of the blankets and pillows. His lips never leave yours as you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, his hands still cradling your face, his thumb brushing tenderly across the skin under your eyes.

“You’re everything to me too, Lo,” you whisper, your voice soft and full of affection, a smile tugging at your lips. “I love you.”

You’re both basking in each other’s presence, the quiet intimacy between you settling into something warm and peaceful. The earlier rush of passion has given way to a serene calmness, where even the soft rhythm of your breaths seems to sync together. Logan’s fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, and you feel completely at ease, wrapped in his embrace.

Then, just as you’re lulled into this tranquil moment, you notice a familiar gleam of mischief in Logan’s eyes. His hands slowly slide down to your hips, fingers pressing lightly against your skin in a way that sends a subtle thrill through you. He caresses you slowly, and the soft strokes make your body stir.

With a playful grin, he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “Another round?” His voice is teasing but full of intent, a promise of what’s to come. You feel the shift in his energy, playful yet laced with the kind of desire that tells you he’s far from finished with you tonight.

“Logan!” you giggle, giving him a playful push, but he only grins wider. In a swift motion, he pulls you close again, silencing your laughter with a deep, passionate kiss. Your playful giggles soon turn into soft, breathy moans as his hands roam your body, and yours do the same, tracing the familiar lines of his muscles.

The night unfolds in a tangle of kisses and wandering hands, the air between you charged with love and desire. Every touch, every kiss, is a reminder of the bond you share, and the passion between you feels endless. The world fades away, and all that remains is Logan. His touch, his gaze, and the warmth of his presence pull you in, leaving you completely lost in him.

thank you for reading <3 mwah

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