#don’t feel bad for him he does it for attention

[pacofprunes]

thoughts on yandere!dae ho?

i think it fits him sm bc he'd be so needy and jealous 😭

you’re right anon, 110%.

warnings — manipulation, yandere content, jealousy, ptsd mentions, noncon touching, short

yandere! daeho headcanons

yandere daeho who can’t stand to be separated from you, both in and out of the games.

yandere daeho who whenever you need to use the bathroom in the games, he tries to go with you everytime.

yandere daeho who can’t stand when you talk to another guy, let alone look at another guy. always finding an excuse to get your attention. making a loud noise or dropping his food on the floor whenever you’re talking to gi-hun to stop your conversation from going any further.

yandere daeho who clings to you at night like his life depends on it. if anybody even comes near your bed he immediately sits up in case somebody’s trying to kill you. constantly paranoid and on his toes.

yandere daeho who manipulates you. he never realizes that’s what he’s doing, he unintentionally does it. he can’t help it. but so what if he is? he just wants the best for you. always shutting down and going silent if you say you’re going to go talk to gi-hun about something in private. when you ask what’s wrong he says you said it aggressively. says the way you spoke to him was very hurtful, causing you to apologize profusely and hug him tightly. a breath of relief escaping his mouth that you trusted his words and now you’re back in his arms again.

yandere daeho who makes you think you’re going crazy. you’re already in this game of death which is bound to make anybody go crazy, but now he’s twisting his words. saying one thing to you and another to someone else.

“daeho, but that’s not what you said.”

“yes it is. are you sure you didn’t mishear me?” he wants you to rely on him and only trust what he has to say. he wants you to think he’s the only one who has the right answers for you, making himself the only one you ever come to when you have a question or need help.

yandere daeho who over time you start to notice him slowly inching a little closer, his grip getting a little tighter as the days go on, so you decide to say something to him. he does apologize, but it’s only to make you feel bad.

“ah, i’m sorry. i don’t mean to be so clingy. i’ll keep my distance.” and then you’re the one who clings to him, apologizing if what you said came across wrong. telling him that he’s not clingy and that you don’t have a problem with him being so close. he doesn’t pay mind to your words though. only paying attention to the warmth he feels around his body from you before reciprocating the hug you’re giving him back.

yandere daeho who uses his ptsd from being in the marines as an excuse to jump close to you and hold onto you. with every gunshot squeezing tighter and tighter.

yandere daeho who when the lights are out and he slides into bed with you, you ask him to go. you liked him as a friend, you two weren’t a thing, so why was he so close to you? you protest to him but he only pulls you closer, shushing you, saying it’s to keep you safe and that with you in his arms, nobody will try anything throughout the night.

yandere daeho who purposely doesn’t bring the ammo back during their revolt. you’d gotten too close to all those people. junbae, gihun, youngil. if he could let them die and play it off as him being scared, he didn’t care. as long as he had you all to himself. not having to share you with a team, not having multiple people to protect you. no. he wanted to be the only one.

“daeho, what are you doing?”

everybody was dead asleep. you were laying in your bed before feeling a dip and turning to see daeho. he pulls you into his chest.

“i’m just keeping you safe.”

you try to push yourself out of his grips but his biceps just flex and stay wrapped around you.

“uhm, i appreciate the gesture, but uh—”

you gulp and take as big as a breath as you can with the little space that you have between the two of you.

“can you lay somewhere else? there’s just not much space anyways, you know?”

he moves one of his hands to run it through your hair and you shiver. it was a kind gesture, and you liked daeho, but you didn’t want this. he was your friend. nothing more, nothing less. he only squeezes you tighter though.

“don’t worry, i won’t let you fall off the bed. i won’t let you get hurt. i’d take a bullet straight through my head before i ever let a scratch even cover your beautiful skin.”

you just shrink into yourself. shrink into him, knowing that it was futile. he wasn’t harming you, so you guess it was fine for now. you take shallow breaths, your chest hitting his everytime you breathed in from the close proximity. you’d think something like this may help you sleep more but it was only gonna keep you up even longer. but maybe that’s what he was counting on. being who you could lean on and trust to save you while you’re too tired to properly play the games the next morning. you didn’t know. you just furrow your eyebrows together, forcing your eyes shut before feeling his head lean against yours, feeling his lips on your head, spreading into a smile against you.

[flwrstqr]

( する ) : ETERNAL SUNSHINE ⟡​ ASKING FOR ANOTHER KISS

── 𝗔𝗟𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗡𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗘𝗟𝗬 ⸝⸝ 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌

‎ ‎ ✶ 𝐀𝐂𝐓‎ ‎𝐈 : enhypen + fem!r 1OOOwc ⟡​ fluff oneshots headcanons ࿁ them being bad down for you, skinship, petnames. && 【 VOGUE 】

다니 : hehe i love bad down enhypen.. it always make me giggle TT

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 “please, baby,” he whines, his voice barely above a whisper, fingers tugging gently at the hem of your sweater like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. his big, doe-like eyes—those bambi eyes—are locked onto yours, wide and glossy with desperation, as if the world might end if you don’t give in. “just one kiss. one, yeah? promise i won’t ask for more.” but he’s lying—you know he is—because his gaze keeps flickering to your lips, and the way his hand slips to your waist betrays him completely. “you’re so mean,” he murmurs, his lips curling into the softest pout. “how can you look this pretty and still torture me like this? c’mon, angel. please, love, just one. i'll do anything,” the second your lips brush his, he melts—actually melts. his grip on your waist tightens, and a muffled, satisfied hum escapes him.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 “angel, just one kiss,” jay pleads, his voice soft, eyes shimmering as he pushes a pile of shopping bags toward you. “here, all the dresses you glanced at when we went on our mall trip. i’ve been saving them for you.” you blink at the heap—every color, every fabric, exactly what you admired or some that you just glanced at for a split second. “baby, you didn’t have to get all this… just for one kiss,” you murmur. he leans closer, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “but i’d do anything for you, you know that.” you don’t know if he’s trying to spoil you or if he just really wanted a kiss from you. with a small laugh, you lean in, pressing a kiss to his lips. jay beams, smug but smitten, as if he’s won the world.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 jake’s arm is draped lazily over your waist as he pulls you closer, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your back. the quiet hum of the tv fills the room, but he’s barely paying attention, his focus entirely on you. “you’re comfy,” he mumbles. he adds, “i think i like this spot.” you glance at him, and he’s already looking at you, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. before you can ask what he means, he leans in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss. he pulls back just enough to see your wide-eyed expression, his grin growing as he teases, “what? you looked like you wanted one.”

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 sunghoon’s sitting across from you, chin propped on his hand, nodding occasionally as you ramble on about your day. at first, you think he’s being attentive, but something feels off, his responses short and quiet. when you finally glance at him, he’s not even meeting your eyes. his gaze is fixed on your lips, unwavering and far too obvious to ignore. your words falter, and the room falls silent, but he doesn’t look away. “were you even listening to me?” you ask, crossing your arms. he blinks, finally dragging his eyes back up to yours, but there’s no apology in them. you sigh, leaning forward, and he meets you halfway, his lips brushing yours like he’s been waiting forever. when he pulls back, his smirk says it all: it was worth the wait.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 sunoo sits beside you, arms crossed and lips slightly pursed, clearly unimpressed by how long you’re making him wait. “just give me a kiss already,” he says, no hesitation, his voice laced with playful impatience. you bite back a grin, deciding to tease him, because how could you not? “hmm, where do you want it? the cheek? the nose-” you ask. his eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think he’s going to give in to your teasing, but instead, he moves faster than you expect, closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours. he pulls back. “there,” he says with a satisfied smile, leaning back smugly. “exactly where i wanted it.” mission accomplished.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 jungwon is folding laundry beside you. you glance at him, his focused expression almost too cute, and the words slip out before you can stop them. “kiss me.” he pauses mid-fold, looking at you like you’ve just handed him the most important task of his life. “okay,” he says simply, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your lips. but then he doesn’t stop. another kiss lands on the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your forehead. giggles bubble out of you as he peppers your face with kisses, completely forgetting about the laundry. “jungwon!” you laugh, trying to push him away, but he just grins, pulling you closer. “you said kiss me,” he teases, planting one last kiss on your lips. “i’m just being thorough.”

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 you’re sitting across from riki when he starts tapping his fingers on the table, his eyes darting to your lips every five seconds. “what’s taking you so long?” he mutters. you raise a brow, amused. “taking me so long for what?" “nothing,” he grumbles, looking away. but then his impatience gets the best of him. “you’re so slow, y’know that? maybe if you weren’t so distracted, someone could be happy right now.” the teasing lilt in his voice only makes you laugh. “oh, so you want a kiss?” you ask, leaning closer. he scoffs, eyes narrowing. “who said i wanted one?” his ego crumbles when you press a quick kiss to his cheek. his ears turn red, but he smirks anyway. “finally. took you long enough.”

[lucygraysboy]

“who says that’s where they belong, hm? they’d argue they belong at your sides,” he playfully counters, thinking she really does, to a certain extent, remind him of his ma when she gets down to lecturing and scolding. it has him beaming at her, slipping his other foot into the boot. “maybe i’m just fishin’ for compliments, wantin’ to hear how smart i really am.” walking up to her, he extends his hand slowly in sundance’s direction, palm down, to let the horse get familiar with his scent and feel more comfortable with his presence. his other hand finds the small of lucy gray’s back, his voice soft but teasing, “who could possibly doubt the strength of these mighty arms? only a fool.” though, he has to refrain from rolling his eyes upon hearing shamus doesn’t hold grudges. yeah, right, and she glares at him every time he’s near because she adores him so much. “if you don’t want none of your friends fightin’, you gotta tell her to behave, tell her i’m not a bad man.” though, now that he’s thinking about it, maybe the goat’s been able to sense he’s an outlaw. maybe if he just gives her some time… “she better. i’ll put some effort into smoothin’ things over with her, but i ain’t makin’ no promises ‘cause she can be very stubborn.” just like lucy gray, but billy bites his tongue and just smiles to himself in amusement. pale blue eyes watching sundance’s body language, the ears remain relaxed and so he lays his hand on the horse’s neck, offering a gentle pat.

“ain’t nothin’ to it, doll. as easy as breathin’.” he makes sure the reins are secured properly, not causing the gentle creature any discomfort, before turning his attention to the songstress. “i’ve got you.” he rests his calloused hands on lucy gray’s hips, kissing the top of her head before lifting her effortlessly onto sundance’s back, as if she was weightless. part of him wishes they had brought a saddle with them as they provide more stability and control, but riding bareback, although more physically demanding and somewhat less comfortable, is better when there’s two riders. their journey will be fairly short, he reminds himself. looking up, his hand resting on her knee now, he sweetly asks, “you okay? everythin’ alright?” his other hand stroking sundance’s neck in silent praise. what good, patient horse. he swings up behind her, his strong arms circling around to hold the reins. “just lean into me, i won’t let you fall,” he whispers close to her ear, keeping his voice calm and hoping it’s as steadying as his hold. he guides her dainty hands to the reins, his large ones atop them, making sure she has the illusion of control. “so, lesson one, what we don’t do when we want the horse to start movin’. we don’t jerk on the reins, it can confuse ‘im, make ‘im stop or back up. and we don’t kick hard, we don’t want to startle ‘im and get thrown off, right? so, we just sit with our back straight but relaxed, we can lean a little bit forward but not too much, and we talk to ‘im and give a gentle squeeze with our legs. like this. vamos, sundance. camina.” feeling the cue, sundance begins to walk forward, somewhat lazily but that’s better, billy thinks. “look at you, lucy gray, you’re doin’ so good.”

"by keepin' your fingers over there where they belong." lucy gray playfully scolds like a mother. "you know good as i do, that ain't the truth. don't make a mine out of a molehill." might as well say she's still scolding him like a mother to drop the silly pouting. "you're a very smart fellow and i'd never call you a rotten word like that, like i said." reminding him once again, but starting to become confused..is he really meanin' all that? or playin' with her? brows gently furrow momentarily until she gets it... he is playin' with her. "alright, you better be." smiling in amusement, has to admit to it being funny at least. "well, you know a thing or two about tricks too." how impressive, he's smart and knows how to pull a few tricks of his own... makes her very impressed. "they ARE and none of you better be doubtin' it." hand gently smacks his hand squeezing her big bicep. "shamus don't hold no grudges." that can't be the truth, when she's definitely a stubborn little goat. "and i'm not takin' up for her, i'm tryin' to be optimistic cause i don't want either of my friends fightin'." him and shamus, which causes her to giggle talking about shamus like she's a person too. "oh, that'd be a sweet idea of you to do. shamus will have to forgive if you bring her dandelions." one of her favorite snacks. watching him come over, looking to him then towards sundance, a smile resting on her lips at how sweet he sounds talking to her horse. "i guess i'll have to be. hm? i got no choice but get up on here." smiling shyly, despite it definitely making her a little nervous.

[revelboo]

Hi Revel! Not a request or anything but I just wanted to send in an ask telling you how much I appreciate your works! There’s such variety to choose from and I’m constantly impressed with the storylines that you craft and everything you come up with! I love how much you’ve thought about each character and it really shows in your work. For example, you’ve gone into little bits here and there about how each of your Starscreams’ are different and you are just superb at showing it! (Your take on Armada Starscream is my absolute favorite!!) It’s really inspiring honestly and makes me want to get back into fanfiction again. I can’t tell you how much I look forward to checking your blog each day and seeing what you’ve been up to! Also your blog is so accessible! I cannot imagine all the links you have to put in and kept up with but I’m so grateful for it! Ah, sorry for the rambling but I hope life treats you well. :^] <3

Here’s a silly little photo for you! He is so little <3

Thank you! I’m glad you like my nonsense and go out there and write the things you love! 💕

Bee’s just a tiny bab.

Even If It Kills Me Pt 14

Armada Starscream x Reader

• Head lifting from where you’re idly drawing on his datapad, you go still at the smell of food. Actual, hot food not chips or cookies. And Runway chirps holding up a brown paper bag. Watching the other two try to seize it from him before Starscream huffs through his vents and picks you up to set down on the floor with the mini-cons. “How did you get fast food?” You ask as Runway pushes the bag in your hands and then drapes himself against your back when you sit crosslegged on the floor and open it, the other two creeping closer and openly curious.

• Wings lifting and falling as he retrieves an energon cube for himself and smaller ones for the mini-cons and joins you on the floor, he watches you remove little wrapped packages from the bag. “The mini-cons found it,” he says and you shoot him a look. “A human set it on an outdoor table in the park and Runway snatched it,” he admits with a grimace. You don’t look angry, though as you grab a fistful of little yellow sticks and shove them in your mouth, eyes closing. Watches Sonar and Jetstorm lean over to vent curiously, recoiling when you offer them a bit. “They can’t eat that. Unless you want them purging on you later.”

• “Thank you for taking care of me,” you whisper to the mini-cons and Runway affectionately butts his helm against you before seizing one of the mini energon cubes Starscream is holding out for them. Because you’ve been wanting real food rather than the junk food Star keeps bringing you. Know he’s trying his best, keeps stealing things for you and he’s been working on something lately in a corner of his habsuite, the paneling of the wall and floor pulled up over there. Not sure what he’s up to since he gets flustered when you ask, making you think it has to do with you.

• “I’ve told you that you don’t need to thank me or them for that,” he mutters before taking a deep drink. Aware of you grinning up at him before you turn your attention back on the food, eating much quicker than you normally do to make him feel guilty. Because he’s almost certain he’s doing a terrible job caring for you and you’re just too nice to say anything to him. You seem happier at least with him. When you have your nightmares and he remembers the bruises on your face when he’d found you, the resignation, he thinks about returning to that home he’d found you at. Wanting to find whoever scared you so bad you still can’t shake the fear. Knows he’ll likely never be able to get revenge on his tormentor, but he could remove yours from the face of this world. But if he does and you ever find out, you may not look at him the same way anymore and he can’t risk that. Wants you to keep smiling for him. To be worthy of your trust.

• “I know,” you say, looking up to find him frowning at nothing like he sometimes does. That little show and tell of scars was the most he’s let his guard down and had been enough to understand that he understands you, because he’s suffered at someone else’s hands, too. That he’s been through not exactly the same thing, but something similar enough and he’d not been completely broken by it helps you keep smiling for him. He’s gruff and awkward, but he’s kind. And you want to protect him and that kindness, because it means everything to you.

Previous

[damnfeelings09]

Bad Romance - Shadow's version

A.N: This one for you! @bookdragon247 I hope it does live up to what you expected! Had a lot of fun *and blush* writting this one.

After such a hard day's work, you deserved a night of partying, and what better way than to go to the local bar for karaoke night. You found yourself with your friends Amy, Rouge, Sonic, Knuckles, and... Shadow?! It wasn’t that it bothered you to see him. Shadow was serious, quiet, sarcastic, and mostly disinterested in meeting new people, which is why it surprised you that he was there. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t excited to see him tho, because, maybe, just maybe, it could be that you had a tiny little crush on the hedgehog. Okay, in reality, you were completely in love with him. However, Shadow had always kept his relationship with you (if it could even be called like that) professional. You were both GUN agents, and on several occasions, you’d shared missions with the hedgehog. Every now and then, you’d greet each other in the hallways, share a small chat while waiting for your coffee, or discuss some important details about mission findings. Shadow had always been very kind, even when he was angry; he had never raised his voice at you, which your friends found strange, but for you it never seemed so important.

Shadow was wearing a leather jacket, and his signature white gloves had been replaced with mittens, like the ones bikers wear. You had never seen his hands before. His fingers were long and thin, his nails long and sharp enough to cause harm if he wanted, shining like onyx. In the middle of his hand, right between his middle and ring fingers, his fur changed from night-black to red, just like his quills. “How would it feel to be touched by those hands?” You wondered, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Ahem…” – Amy cleared her throat, catching your attention. You were thankful it was her who noticed you were lost in your thoughts and not Rouge, or she wouldn’t let you off the hook for the rest of the night.

“Well, well, look who decided to leave their cave,” Rouge said. “He probably lost another bet,” she laughed, remembering the last time Shadow had bet that Sonic couldn’t go more than 10 minutes without talking, and when he lost, he had to join them for Sonic’s birthday party.

The six of you headed to the Sing On! bar. Inside, the lights were dancing across the room, and the music filled every corner of the venue. You could still walk through the tables without any trouble, and the crowd applauded to the lemur as he sang “Too Good at Goodbyes.” Amy grabbed Sonic by the arm and pushed him toward the DJ booth, eager to sing a duet, while the four of you looked for a table. Rouge convinced Knuckles to head to the dance floor, leaving you alone. You loved your friends, but this definitely wasn’t the way to get closer to Shadow.

“Hey, Shadow. I had no idea you liked karaoke,” you said, trying to strike up a conversation. Shadow turned his face toward you, slightly tilting his head to the left in confusion.

“Not my cup of coffee. Sonic promised to leave me alone for a week, so I let him drag me here.”

“Ah… I should’ve known, Sonic can be a little intense with these things. Still, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Oh, yeah? ” he said, raising an eyebrow. "Why would you be?" His deep voice sent shivers down your spine, making you flush instantly. In the background, you could hear Amy and Sonic butchering “Don’t Stop Believin’.”

“Sure… we’re f-friends. I love spending time with you… Just like with Sonic, Amy, and Tails…” You scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, hoping someone would come and save you from the humiliation you’d just caused. “Ah… I’m going to get a drink.” You fled as fast as you could, locking yourself in the first bathroom you found. You lowered the toilet seat and sat on it. You were done for—now you’d have to change your name, dye your hair, and move to another city to avoid the humiliation you had just experienced.

You heard knocks on the door. “Honey? Is everything alright?” Rouge asked from the other side.

“I just blew my only chance in the most humiliating way. Friends? What was I thinking?” you complained, slapping your palm to your forehead.

"'kay, time to stop wallowing in your own misery?” Rouge pushed the door open, forcing you out. “Listen. You’re gorgeous, maybe as much as I am, you’re a good friend, fun, kind, and Shadow likes you. I’m sure of it, and if not, screw that jerk. Now give me back my confident friend.”

You sighed deeply and straightened your ears back into your fur. Rouge was right—you weren’t going to stay and cry, ruining everyone’s night. Amy found you in the bathroom and, when she saw your face, she quickly asked what was going on. Rouge filled her in.

“Well, Sonic told me that Shadow only agreed to come tonight because you’d be here. Plus, he kept looking around after you disappeared; I think he was looking for you.”

“No way” you raised your voice. “Sonic must be messing with you.”

“I don’t think so. Sonic likes to joke around with Shadow, not about him.”

“See? The only one who can’t see what’s going on is you. Go get your man.”

The three of you went back to the main room. This time, gathering your courage, you approached the DJ and requested a song. “Well, here goes nothing”, you thought as you took your position on the stage. Quickly, Amy and Rouge stood up from their seats, cheering you on. The audience was paying attention, and a pair of crimson eyes were watching you curiously.

“Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh Caught in a bad romance”

I want your ugly, I want your disease I want your everything as long as it's free I want your love Love, love, love, I want your love (hey)

As you sang, you pointed in Shadow's direction. Rouge, who was standing next to him, playfully nudging his shoulder.

“I want your drama, the touch of your hand (hey) I want your leather-studded kiss in the sand”

You sang, tracing your lower lip with your thumb, keeping your gaze fixed on Shadow. You had no idea what had gotten into you, you just knew there was no turning back. Would you regret it when the song ended? Probably, so you had to make it worth it. “To hell with this,” you thought, as you got off the stage, swaying your hips until you reached Shadow. Once you were in front of him, you grabbed his chest fur, pulling him closer to your body.

“I want your horror, I want your design 'Cause you're a criminal as long as you're mine I want your love Love, love, love, I want your love”

“I want your psycho, your vertigo shtick (hey) Want you in my rear window, baby, you're sick I want your love Love, love, love, I want your love (love, love, love) (I want your love)”

Shadow looked… nervous?. His usual carefree and cool aura had disappeared, replaced by a pink blush covering his muzzle. Never, in your wildest dreams, did you imagine that the Ultimate lifeform could blush because of you. It was new to him—just a few weeks ago, he had realized he felt… more when you were near. He could feel his heart rate change when you spoke, the slight reddish tint and the sparkle in your eyes when you shared a moment together. However, he always told himself it wasn’t true, that he was imagining things, that you were just naturally kind, because how could you fall for him, being so... well, him.

The boost of energy from having Shadow so close, and the fact that he hadn’t backed away, increased your confidence, so when you returned to the stage, you blew him a kiss. You had never seen Shadow's eyes so wide open as they were at that moment. He turned his face to the side, trying to hide, but it was then that his instincts betrayed him, and his tail began to wag happily. Shadow quickly grabbed it with his hands, trying to hide what was happening.

“No, I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh, caught in a bad romance) I don't wanna be friends (oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh) Want your bad romance (oh-oh-oh) Caught in a bad romance Want your bad romance”

The audience applauded, and Sonic and Knuckles cheered together, drawing attention. However, your gaze never left that figure trying to hide its emotions behind a mocking grin. Maybe it was time for Shadow to start to live and enjoy his life.

[heartsforvin]

RUN FOR THE HILLS

this one’s been in my notes for a minute, excited to bring it to life !! it might be long so be ready !!

pairing: fwb!vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: angst, smut, cussing, use of pet names, arguing, manipulating, toxic relationship, toxic!vinnie, praise kink, if i missed anything lmk !

summary: you thought the friends with benefits relationship with vinnie would become something more, it seemed clear. to him, it wasn’t nothing but the benefits

you were in a bad place, a bad relationship at that. you and vinnie had started a friends with benefits agreement months ago, and for while everything was going great.

until one day the he just snapped. he became more toxic, more manipulative with you.

in your head you knew you had to get out of this situation, but you were too attached, too obsessed with the blonde to even really think straight.

essentially, you started to fall for him, and you knew it wasn't right. the toxicity was one of the main things that wasn't right, but you just couldn't run away from him.

he was manipulative with you, and for while you didn't even notice it. nothing ever got physical between the two of you, just the way he manipulated you was enough for it to be awful.

one minute the two of you are screaming and fighting, and the next, you’re in his bed.

he was almost like a drug, you were addicted to him. the sweet words he’d say, the way he’d touch you, almost everything he did held you captivated.

you knew he was leading you on, but something about the attention he’s giving you was enough to make you stay.

you wanted something more, wanted to be his. that was before he started showing the toxic, manipulative side of him however.

so now, here you are, in his apartment fighting with him yet again.

“are you scared of commitment, is that it?” you ask, tone harsh.

vinnie sighs, running a hand through his hair. he doesn’t know what he wants. he wants you, that’s for sure.

“i don’t know,” he says quietly to where you almost can’t hear him. “i just… you’re just..” he stumbles over his words.

crossing your arms over your chest, you glare at him. “i’m just what?” you ask.

the blonde huffs out of frustration, not knowing how to express his feelings.

“you can’t keep putting me through this.” you say quietly but loud enough to be heard.

vinnie looks up at you. “putting you through what?” he asks.

you scoff. it was obvious what he was doing, if you knew it, it was definitely obvious.

“the toxicity of this!” you shout. “manipulating me, thinking i’m going to be something to you when you know im just a body for you.”

you watch as he clicks his tongue, almost mocking your words in his head. he comes closer to you, putting his arms around your waist.

yours instinctively go around his neck, smiling up at him as they do. you don’t know what it is about him that just makes you melt everytime his hands are on you.

“this feels right, yeah?” he asks in a low tone, making a shiver run down your spine.

he watches you nod. “words, baby.” he tells you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“it feels right.” you tell him.

vinnie smiles, leaning down to kiss your cheek softly. “it does.” he says again.

you nod, being captivated by his touch and soft words. you look up at him and smile, his eyes staring back at you.

why was someone so bad for you also so good to you but in the wrong way possible?

“i’m sorry.” you whisper after moments of silence.

vinnie shakes his head, his hand coming up to your jaw, stroking it gently. “it’s okay, you didn’t mean it, i know you didn’t.”

his soft words blocked out the same manipulative ones. the same ones he just spoke.

you lean into his touch and smile at him again. “you wanna know somethin’?” you hear him ask.

humming, you wait for a response. “you’re hot when you get mad,” he chuckles softly. “makes me wanna make you mad all the time just to get a rise ‘outta you.”

you chuckle softly. “hm,” you hum. “you saying you get turned on seeing me mad?”

vinnie nods, smirk growing on his face. “exactly, and there’s only one way to fix that.”

you smile. “yeah, what’s that?” you tease.

vinnie hates when you tease him, he can’t stand it. it makes him feel like he’s less in control.

“don’t do that.” he warns.

you smile at him. “do what, baby?” you ask ever so innocently.

he huffs. “you know what. you know i don’t like that, and if you keep it up i won’t let you have the one thing you want.”

you know he’s serious, but his tone almost makes you laugh. vinnie glares at you for a minute before speaking.

“don’t make me do it.” he warns, making your smirk turn into a straight face.

the two of you stand there for a minute before vinnie leans in and presses his lips to yours. your arms go around his neck again while his grip your waist.

it was wrong, you knew you needed out of this, out of all of it. something about this though felt so right.

so wrong, but so right.

you feel the two of you move back to the couch, vinnie pushes you onto it before getting on top of you, kissing you once more.

it turns more aggressive, more heated, and fast. your hands move up to his hair, tugging slightly, making him groan into your mouth.

he moves his hips, pressing them down into yours which makes you moan softly into his mouth.

he smiles against your lips before moving to your neck, sucking and biting, creating dark bruises.

your grip on his hair becomes tighter each time he sucks a bruise onto your skin.

“vinnie,” you whisper out as he continues to leave marks on you. “baby.”

he hums against your skin before pulling away. “you want me, sweetheart?” he asks in a teasing tone.

he knows you do, but wants to hear you say it anyways.

“yes, please.” you say, it comes out more as a beg than a statement.

he moves his hand down your body, stopping once he reaches your pants. “yeah?” he teases again.

all you can do is nod. the need growing each passing minute. you have no doubt he’ll be able to see your wetness all over your panties once he takes your jeans off.

he smiles. “can i take these off?” he asks, to which you nod.

he takes your pants off, throwing them somewhere in the room before his hand makes contact with your thigh.

you watch as his hand moves closer to where you need him. once he reaches the waistband of your panties, you watch as he moves farther down.

a strangled moan leaves your lips when his middle finger rubs against you through your panties.

vinnie looks up at you and chuckles. “you like that, princess?” he asks.

you nod. “yes.” you say breathlessly.

he hums, continuing his movements. “maybe i should just do this, seems like you’ll be able to cum in no time.” he teases.

you whine, shaking your head. “no?” he asks. “you were such a bad girl though, yelling at me earlier.”

his tone is mocking, condescending almost, you can hear it. whining, you shake your head again.

“please, i’ll be good.” you tell him.

vinnie bites the inside of his cheek, his finger never stopping its movements against you. “you’ll be good, huh?”

you nod. “please,” you beg. “i promise i’ll be good for you.”

he hums, stopping his movements, making you whine at the loss of contact. “you promise?” he asks.

nodding, you reply, “i promise. please, vinnie.” you beg him again.

he smiles, hand moving up your panties until he reaches the waistband again. “m’gonna take these off and give you what you want, okay?”

you nod, biting your lip to suppress noise.

once they’re off, he tosses them somewhere before looking back down at you. “so pretty.” he mumbles.

you smile, but then tug at his shirt, making him look at you. “use your words, sweetheart.” he reminds you.

“can you…can you take yours off?” vinnie chuckles at your question and you duck your head, feeling dumb for asking.

you watch him stand up and remove his shirt, then pants and boxers with them.

he leans back down and pulls you up to remove your shirt and bra as well, lying you back down on the couch.

you hiss at the feeling of him rubbing against you as he lays down again. “you gonna be a good girl f’me, right?” he asks again.

you nod. “yes.” you whisper.

vinnie smiles, leaning up to kiss your cheek. “good,” he whispers. “you ready?”

he doesn’t really give you time to respond before he’s inside you. he’s hovering over you, the chain he decided to wear that day dangling right in your face as his pace picks up.

you grip onto his shoulders as you clench around him, making him moan softly at the feeling.

“feel s’fuckin’ good, princess.” he grunts as he looks down at you.

you smile, or try to the best you can since the pleasure takes over. you look down and see vinnie’s hand reach for your chest, squeezing your right breast, making you moan and clench around him more.

profanities leave the blondes lips as he feels you tighten around him, his pace quickening.

“it’s like you were made for me,” he rasps. “prettiest girl in the world.”

it’s probably the heat of the moment, but something in you feels warm and fuzzy when he says that.

he’s only said that a handful of times, and each time you wish he truly meant it.

maybe he did and it was just your mind telling you didn’t. or maybe the manipulation has really gotten to you.

“vinnie,” you whimper as you feel him hit a good spot. “shit.”

he chuckles softly. “bein’ such a good girl f’me, sweetheart,” he rasps. “always so good for me.”

all you can do is nod and bite your lip to not let too loud of sounds slip from you.

“let it out, princess,” he grunts. “wanna hear who makes you feel this good.”

you do as he says. the minute his hand reaches down and you feel his thumb rub tight circles on your clit, you’re moaning loudly.

“that’s my girl.” he praises with a smile.

he knows you’re close, so he keeps his thumb right where it’s at. “be a good girl and cum for me, baby.”

you whine again, clenching around him at his words and at the feeling of everything.

before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming around him with a moan of his name.

vinnie helps you ride out your high before finishing right behind you.

the two of you lay there for a minute before he gets up and puts his clothes back on.

you do the same, feeling a little sad at the fact there was no real aftercare, but there never really was with him.

“why don’t you do aftercare?” the words spill out of you before you can even process what you’re saying.

you’ve always wanted to ask but never got the courage to, you guessed now was your time.

“what?” vinnie asks after a few moments.

you fix your hair and sit on the arm of the couch, still needing to clean up the cushions.

“why don’t we ever just relax a minute, you know? put on a movie, cuddle?” you ask.

vinnie laughs. “you know i don’t do that shit,” he says coldly. “you’ll get attached if i do.”

you scoff. here it comes again, the fighting. “i’ll get attached?” you ask, repeating his words.

he crosses his arms over his chest. “come on, you know you would. i’m not that kind of guy anyways.”

“it’s basic human decency after sex,” you say in a stern tone. “are you serious?”

he looks at you and you hate the way he does. he’s getting angry, you’re getting under his skin.

“it’s not that big a deal,” he scoffs. “i don’t need you gettin’ attached and wanting to be with me other than sex. isn’t that all this is?”

you can’t help but feel a stab to your heart at his words. you wanted it to be more, his words, his actions, made it seem like it’d be more.

“i guess.” you mumble quietly.

vinnie scoffs. “see? this is exactly what i mean.” he says.

“what?!” you ask, throwing your hands in the air. “i’m sorry i want just the tiniest bit of aftercare, im sorry you can’t give that to me. maybe i should just go.”

vinnie bites the inside of his cheek. “maybe you should,” he says quietly. “maybe i shouldn’t have started this with you. it’s clear you’re already getting attached.”

all you do is walk past him and shove his shoulder as you grab your things. this isn’t what was supposed to happen.

“you keep manipulating me, thinking we can be more than just whatever we are,” you sigh. “i can’t handle it. i can’t handle your stupid words, your touches. it’s too toxic, vinnie.” you explain.

he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “so what? you wanna end it?” he asks.

you finally turn around to face him. “i wanna end it.” you tell him.

vinnie nods. “okay, it’s over then. everything. no more touches, no more kissing, no more sex. it’s all done.” he says.

you nod, trying to keep your cool. “alright,” you sigh. “this is goodbye then.”

vinnie nods, opening the door for you and holding it. “this is goodbye.” he repeats quietly.

you nod your head before stepping out of his apartment. you hear him shut the door and that’s when you let all your emotions out.

it was clear he only wanted one thing while you wanted everything.

finally getting this out !!! sorry it took so long, was tryna figure out how i wanted it to go

i hope you all enjoyed though !!!

tags: @deansbeer , @nativegirltapes , @khackerr , @sturnioloshacker , @visualbutterflysworld , @louloulemons-blog , @laylasbunbunny , @leqonsluv3r , @kayleighh , @khxna , @defnotayonna , @skye-44 , @jpg3 , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @hallecarey1 , @miilzzy , @kriissy4gov , @supabhad , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @submattenthusiast

[writing-the-stars]

Hiii! You’re fics are amazing i’m in awe of your writing & the tension that you build between characters💞

I was wondering whether you could write an Aaron Hotchner fic which maybe follows on from your most recent fic about him, where Aaron and reader have their first kiss. I feel like it would all be in the little moments, like him being so gentle & reader being so nervous 🥹🥹🥹

Unraveled, Unveiled

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: After finally breaking through Aaron Hotchner’s walls, a quiet, undeniable tension begins to build between you— one that can no longer be ignored. What starts as an evening of uncertainty and vulnerability gradually unravels the emotional barriers between you both, leading to a deeper connection neither of you expected.

Warnings: Angst (But it's not that bad. They're just nervous and awkward), Fluff, No Use of Y/N or Physical Descriptors (Hotch does call reader beautiful though), Smooching. Let Me Know If I Forgot Something

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Hi Anon! I was so excited to see your message in my inbox!! Thank you for requesting this!! Honestly, so happy you all loved my previous fic so much and I am so appreciative of the support! This is a continuation of the previous fic, but can be read as a stand alone. Thank you all so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!! Have a wonderful day!

Masterlist | Criminal Minds Masterlist

There’s a familiar tension in the air of the bullpen—the kind that comes with working a case. This one, a series of abductions around McLean, Virginia, has a particular edge to it. While a local case makes it easier for the team to collaborate, it still never sits right when the danger is so close to home. 

A flurry of activity surrounds you—agents moving in and out, phones ringing intermittently, the steady clicking of keyboards and pens. Yet, despite all the motion, your attention is elsewhere.

You sit at your desk, eyes skimming through the case files in front of you. But you’re not really reading. You’d like to blame it on the exhaustion you’re experiencing from the long hours of work, but it is something else entirely— a subtle pull that keeps tugging at you, an energy that hums quietly beneath your skin.

Across the room, you find the source of your distraction, Aaron Hotchner, standing near the whiteboard. His posture is stiff with concentration as he discusses how the latest victim correlates with the other abductees. His usual commanding presence is softened tonight, more by the weariness of the case than anything else. But his jaw remains tight with that familiar, quiet intensity.

The air between you has shifted ever since that quiet night in his office—a soft electric current that pulses in the spaces between your words. It fuels the quiet moments, sitting in the presence of each other, silent exchanges unnoticed by your unwitting team. The stolen glances, charged with something deeper than the usual camaraderie you used to trade. The brief brush of his hand when he passes you by. It’s consuming, this energy growing between you, undeniable.

As if pulled by the same magnetic undercurrent, his eyes meet yours and your heart stutters caught in that spark. His gaze lingers, longer than it normally would, eyes skimming every part of you before quickly snapping his attention back to the board— your shared moment of connection ending just as quickly as it began. 

You lean back in your chair, case files momentarily forgotten as you let the cool air from the ventilation above wash over your face. Everything in the room feels louder now, sharper. Your heart squeezes at the thought of what’s to come. In the week that’s passed, things have been quieter. No grand gestures. No long talks about where things are going. You aren’t trying to rush anything. You know Aaron needs time, but you’d be lying if you said the burgeoning tension wasn’t about to make you snap. You long for a space with him where case files don’t matter, where the professional boundaries of the BAU are nothing more than an illusion. Somewhere far from the constant pressure of work—where you can just be.

Deciding you have spent far too much time ruminating over this, you sit up, ready to return to your case files, and are surprised to find Aaron’s eyes already on you. He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even seem to breathe for a moment, but there is a flicker of understanding there. A soft, unspoken promise. 

And then, the text. 

“How about I pick you up at 7:30 tonight? I’ll take you to dinner— just us. No cases.” 

The words are simple, but the implications hit you all at once. Aaron Hotchner wants to take you on a proper date. The realization makes you feel suddenly vulnerable. Nerves pulse through you, but you can’t help the flutter of excitement that curls in your gut. You’ve been waiting for this.

-*-

As 7:30 draws near, you find yourself standing in front of your hallway mirror, second-guessing every outfit you own. Is it too much? Too little? Will you seem too eager? Or too reserved? You want to look nice, but not like you tried too hard—something that says this didn’t take nearly as much effort as it actually did.

After your fourth change, you finally settle on a simple look: the outfit you wore to your cousin’s wedding a few years back. It’s one of your nicer outfits, but you can’t help the small seed of doubt that lingers. You’ve never worn anything like this in front of Aaron before. Usually, it’s sharp business attire, tailored suits, and the professional look you know best. But tonight? Tonight is special. You want your appearance to match the moment. 

There’s a knock at the door, and your stomach flips. It’s time— no more second-guessing. You take one last glance in the mirror, smoothing a hand over your hair, and open the door.

There he is. 

Aaron Hotchner stands in front of you, and for a moment, your breath catches. His usual impeccable suit has been swapped for a crisp button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up just a touch, paired with well-tailored slacks. But it’s not the way he looks that steals your breath; it’s the way he’s looking at you. His gaze trails over you, not overtly calculating, but with something more subtle, more intense. There’s awe in his eyes, and for a moment, it’s as if he forgets how to breathe. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to speak, but the words get stuck in his throat.

The sight of you standing there, bathed in the soft light of your hallway, makes his heart stutter in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Your outfit is simple, but somehow, it accentuates everything that makes you... you. Aaron has always admired your professionalism, your sharp mind, and the way you carry yourself. But now, something else hits him— your grace. It’s as though he’s seeing you for the first time— not just as his colleague or close teammate, but as you. And he can’t help but think how stunning you look.

He swallows, forcing himself to regain his composure.

You feel your pulse begin to thrum, a nervous flutter you can’t quite control. You knew he’d be here, but seeing him now— seeing him look at you like this— is a shock to your system.

You swallow and break the silence. “Hi,” you manage, even though it feels like the most inadequate word you could say in this moment.

“You look…” he falters, his voice deeper than usual, a slight rasp. He clears his throat, but there’s no masking the way his gaze softens as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”

The compliment is simple, but the way he says it— like everything else between you and him— feels loaded with meaning. The words settle into your chest, warm and comforting. No one’s ever made you feel seen quite like this. No one ever looks at you the way he does now, like you’re the only thing that matters in this space.

An uncontrollable smile stretches across your face, warmth pooling in your chest. You try to calm yourself. This is just Aaron. Just Hotch. You’ve worked together for years. You’re friends. But this? This is something different. And everything about tonight feels new.

“Thank you,” you reply shyly, wishing you could say more— something that could convey how much his words mean to you. But you’re not sure how to verbalize it, how to make sense of the nerves suddenly wreaking havoc on you.

He smiles, a small, genuine smile that makes your chest tighten. It’s a rare crack in his professional exterior. His gaze flickers down to your lips for just a moment, a quiet hesitation before he meets your eyes again. The silence stretches between you—almost too long—before he reaches for you with a gentle, almost hesitant gesture. His hand is steady, but you catch the slight tremble in his fingers.

“Shall we?” he asks, the words hanging in the air like a soft invitation, a gentle nudge into the unknown.

With a nod, you slide your hand into his and allow him to lead you to his car. Like a true gentleman, Hotch opens the car door for you, letting you slide inside before he closes it gently and moves to the driver’s seat.

You buckle your seatbelt, your hands trembling slightly as you adjust it, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the way Aaron sits beside you. He starts the engine, the soft hum of it filling the car, but it’s as if neither of you knows what to say. The conversation between you, usually easy and casual, feels foreign now.

You glance at him— he’s focused on the road, his jaw set, his hands gripping the steering wheel, but there’s a tightness in his posture that wasn’t there before. You’re used to Aaron’s stoic, controlled demeanor, but now, there’s a slight edge to his movements, a quiet nervousness that surprises you.

For once, Aaron doesn’t feel like he’s in control. He doesn’t feel like the Unit Chief of the BAU or the calculating prosecutor he once was. He feels like a man standing on the precipice of something new— and he doesn’t know how to navigate it.

He didn’t expect this. Didn’t expect to feel so much. But this is just like him, always a step behind when it comes to his own emotions.

He steals a glance at you, only to find you already looking at him with that same wide-eyed gaze he has come to adore. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips. He thinks back to that fateful day, the moment he feared he would lose you— that you would never look at him that way again. A frown tugs at his lips. His grip on the steering wheel tightens. He had come so close to watching one of his greatest fears come to life.  

You feel the drastic shift in Aaron’s demeanor, the subtle change as his tension takes on a darker form, something more than just nerves.

“You okay?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper, but it’s enough to break the quiet bubble between you two.

He glances over at you briefly, his dark eyes catching yours for a moment, and there’s something unspoken in that brief exchange. His expression softens, and his hand— still on the wheel— flexes slightly before he answers.

“I’m fine,” his voice is calm, but there’s an underlying warmth in it now— something unguarded, vulnerable. “Just…” He hesitates, and you can almost see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to find the words. “Just glad to be here with you.”

You blink at the simplicity of his words. It should’ve been obvious, but you hadn’t expected him to be so open— so real— about it. You nod slowly, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I’m glad too,” you reply, and the words feel more truthful than they ever have before.

-*-

The restaurant is quiet, intimate—just the right place for a first date between two people who have spent more time working together than anything else. The low hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware fills the air, but in your small corner booth, it feels like the world has narrowed down to just the two of you. No team, no cases, no distractions. It feels like the first real moment where you can both breathe without the weight of the world on your shoulders.

Aaron is polite, professional, just like usual, but there’s still an edge to him that wasn’t there before. His movements are slightly more careful, his glances lingering just a little too long. It’s subtle, but you can feel it. The air between you feels thick with unspoken words, with things that haven’t yet been said— haven’t even been acknowledged.

An unexpected shyness swells up inside you. The weight of this moment finally settles over you. You had longed for a moment like this. A chance to be with Aaron in a more intimate setting, to step away from the roles you’ve both played for so long, to just be. The chemistry between you, the moments that lingered just a little too long, the small touches that didn’t feel quite so professional anymore— these things have been building to this exact moment. But now that it’s finally here, you’re terrified.

Not of Aaron. Not of the way he looks at you, but of yourself.

What if you ruin it? What if this is just a fleeting moment of warmth and compassion on his end? What if it’s an illusion that will vanish just as quickly as it appeared? And if it does— what will that do to you? To Aaron? To the team?

You realize just how fragile the balance you and Aaron have been maintaining is.

You reach for your napkin, fingers restless as you fiddle with the edges. You haven’t been on a date in years— not since college. Back then, everything seemed so simple. You were so carefree, your heart open and unafraid of the consequences. But now, everything is complicated. With all the history between you and Aaron, the stakes feel higher, the potential for things to go wrong just a little too real.

You shift in your seat feeling the awkwardness of the space between you. The tension between you both builds with every passing minute, the unspoken words sitting between you like a quiet invitation.

Clearing his throat, Aaron breaks the silence.

“Jack really enjoyed that recipe you gave me. Although I’m sure he’d much prefer it if you made it instead of me.”

You laugh, a genuine sound that has Aaron’s chest tightening in a way he isn’t ready to admit. There’s something about it— your laugh that feels more open, more real than the usual quick exchanges you share at work. You seem more... vulnerable tonight. Softer, in a way he wasn’t prepared for.

“Well, you earned Jack’s approval, so it sounds like your version is just as good,” you tease, but the smile you share with him falters for just a second. There’s a certain hesitance in your eyes, an unease that he can see you try to cover up.

But it’s there, unmistakable.

The silence falls again, this time a little heavier, a little more awkward. You take a sip of your wine, the cool liquid offering some comfort as you try to find your footing again. Aaron, ever the profiler, picks up on every shift in your body language. The tightening around your eyes, the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your gaze flits to his face before bouncing anywhere else. This is a reaction he didn’t expect. You’ve always been calm, collected, and self-assured. But tonight, you’re something else— he can sense the uncertainty beneath the surface.

Aaron had been so focused on his own nerves, on maintaining control. He never stopped to consider that you might be feeling just as uncertain as he is. It’s a humbling realization. 

“What are you thinking about?” The question comes out softer than he intended, like an invitation to share something more than just surface thoughts. You realize, in that moment, that Aaron is asking for something deeper than just a simple response. It surprises you, though it really shouldn’t.

You meet his gaze, and it pulls you in, making you feel like you can’t hide behind your usual calm demeanor. “Nothing really... just nervous,” you admit, a shy smile spreading across your face as your eyes flicker down to your wine glass before meeting his again. “I’ve never really done... this before.”

Aaron’s brow furrows at the confession, and for a split second, his mind scrambles to find the right response. “A date?” His voice is soft, unsure if he should push or give you space.

You chuckle, a little self-deprecating, like you’re embarrassed by your own admission. “Well, no. Not since college. It’s been a while,” you confess to him, your fingers absently tracing the rim of your glass.

The revelation hits Aaron with an unexpected weight. He hadn’t anticipated this— hadn’t considered that you might be just as vulnerable as he is in this moment. It stirs something protective within him, an instinct to shield you from the unease you’re clearly feeling, though he doesn’t quite know how to do that yet.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was the one giving you nervous butterflies.” 

 There’s a playful edge to his voice, but it’s gentle—reassuring in its own way. He’s trying to lighten the mood, trying to ease the tension. He wants you to know it’s okay to be this nervous, that it’s okay for both of you to be feeling your way through this.

You laugh again, the sound more relaxed this time. It feels good to admit it, to share something so personal with him. Something that feels so... human.

“It's not you,” you clarify quickly, shaking your head with a soft smile. “It’s just... been a long time. And this is, well, different.”

Aaron leans in slightly, as if trying to understand the weight of your words. “Different how?” His voice drops, a hint of curiosity threading through the quiet.

You hesitate, searching for the right words. You weren’t expecting this kind of openness from him— this willingness to understand what’s remained unspoken. It makes something in your chest loosen. But you’re not sure how to articulate it. Not entirely. So you start slow, the words coming out haltingly.

“I don’t know,” you say finally, feeling the weight of it as it settles in your chest. “It’s just that... all these years, we’ve always been on the same team, right? Always professional, always focused on the job. And now...” you shrug, a little self-conscious, but there’s a warmth to your smile as your eyes meet his. “There’s a new dynamic here, and I’m not sure how to handle it.”

Aaron watches you for a moment, absorbing what you’ve said. He feels a slight shift inside him, a slow understanding of the weight of what you’re saying. You’ve never hesitated before, never seemed unsure. And now, here you are—open, fragile in a way he’s never seen. It makes something twist inside him, protective and tender in equal measure.

“I get that,” he says quietly, his voice low, steady, “I’ve been feeling it too.”He pauses, then adds with a half-smile, “Though I didn’t think you’d be the one who needed more time to adjust.”

That pulls a soft laugh from you, the tension easing from your shoulders. You shake your head in mock exasperation. “I didn’t realize you were so smooth. But now that I know you’re actually just as nervous as I am...” you raise an eyebrow, teasing him a little, the playful banter easing the air between you.

Aaron chuckles, his eyes warming in response, “Guess we’re both pretending to be less nervous than we really are.”

The way he says it, so openly, makes your heart settle a little. You take a small sip of your wine, considering your next words. “I didn’t think we’d ever get here,” you admit quietly, your voice soft, unsure. “I mean, I had let myself hope, but with everything that’s happened.”

Aaron’s expression softens, and there’s a quiet understanding in his eyes. “Yeah. I’ve thought about that too,” he murmurs, his jaw tightening just a fraction, as if the memories are sharper than he’s willing to admit. “We’ve both been through a lot. And I wasn’t sure what this... us could look like.”

The rawness of his words catches you off guard. There’s an honesty in them that feels almost like a relief. This isn’t just a date. It feels like a kind of truth that has been long overdue— something neither of you has ever fully addressed, but always carried.

“And now that we’re here,” you say softly, your voice tentative but sincere, “What do we do with it?”

Aaron exhales slowly, leaning back just slightly, his gaze flicking to the table before returning to you. There’s something different about the way he looks at you now, as if he’s no longer trying to figure out the next step, just... accepting it.

“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice steady but with a hint of vulnerability. “But maybe... maybe that’s the point. We don’t need to have it all figured out right now.”

The weight of his words lands between you  like a small relief, a shared surrender. The uncertainty, the not-knowing, doesn’t feel heavy anymore. It feels like a mutual acceptance, a quiet understanding that, for tonight, it’s enough to just be here. To let whatever happens next unfold without needing answers.

“I think I can live with that,” you murmur, smiling softly, your heart still beating a little faster than usual.

Aaron gives you a small smile, that familiar flicker of warmth in his eyes. The air between you both shifts again, this time more relaxed, less tense. There’s no more pressure, no need to define everything in this moment. Instead, it’s just the quiet promise of now, and maybe, just maybe, that’s all either of you needs.

The rest of dinner passes in a warm blur. The nervousness from earlier dissipating. You begin to feel more at ease, more sure of yourself in his presence. His presence has always had a grounding effect on you, but tonight is different. There’s no longer any distance. No professional separation. 

He listens intently when you talk, eyes never straying from your face. There’s something about the way he is so present with you— like he’s hanging on to every word, absorbing everything you give him. 

And when he laughs? When he smiles like he truly means it— it’s a rare thing. It makes your heart flutter. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so... unshielded. No armor. No walls. Just Aaron.

As he walks you back to your apartment door, you can’t stop thinking about him. About the way he looked at you all evening, like he was struggling to maintain control. But even through his efforts, you could see the way his gaze kept drifting over you, lingering just a bit longer when he thought you weren’t looking. There was something in it— something that made your heart flutter, a warmth spreading through you.

“I had a really great time tonight, Aaron,” you tell him once you reach your door, your voice soft but sincere.

Aaron smiles at that, his heart inexplicably light. “I did too.”

And then, his hand brushes yours, and suddenly you’re aware of how close you are. The contact is small, but it feels like everything. It sends a jolt through you, and your pulse quickens— nerves, anticipation, excitement all rushing through your veins.

You had wanted this. Wanted him. But now that you’re standing here, so close, it feels different. More real, more tangible than you ever expected. You’re afraid to move forward— afraid of what could come next.

And yet, in the silence, you don’t need to say anything. You feel it— an unspoken invitation in his eyes. The way he steps closer, ever so slightly, until there’s no more space between you. Aaron understands exactly what you want. 

“Can I…” he hesitates, his hand lifting slowly, then pausing for just a moment before it gently cups your cheek. His touch is so soft, so tender, like he’s waiting for permission. Like he’s afraid to rush this. You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the scent of his cologne— familiar and comforting— encapsulates you, making your pulse race. His chest rises and falls just as erratically as yours. 

You lean into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed, the warmth of his hand against your skin a silent promise.

The world seems to pause just before his lips touch yours, and for a breathless moment, you’re not sure if it’s the right decision. But then his lips are there— soft, gentle, asking without words, and you know it’s the only choice that matters.

It’s tentative, careful. He’s holding back, as though afraid you might break. But the tenderness of it only makes the ache inside you deepen. You’ve waited for this. Both of you have, in your own ways. And here, now, it’s finally real.

You kiss him back with all the softness you had been holding inside, feeling the months of longing, of unspoken desire, finally spilling out. It’s nothing like you had imagined. No fireworks. No grand, sweeping declarations. It’s tender. It’s soft. But it’s everything. It’s an unspoken conversation between the two of you. An acknowledgment of everything that’s been left unsaid, of the quiet trust between you. Of how, despite everything— despite his professional walls, despite the stakes of your job— he’s letting you in.

The way he holds you so carefully, like you’re something precious. The way his lips move against yours, as though asking for permission, as though he doesn’t want to take anything from you— just offer it.

His hand moves to your cheek, his thumb brushing the curve of your jaw, a touch so intimate, it feels like a promise. The kiss deepens just slightly, but there’s no rush. It’s everything you’ve wanted without either of you saying a word.

You pull away slowly, forehead resting against his absorbing the intimacy of the moment. 

“Wow,” you whisper, the words escaping before you can even think about them.

Aaron chuckles softly, a quiet sound that makes your heart flutter. “Yeah,” he agrees, his voice thick with emotion.

With a final, tender smile, he leans in to kiss your forehead, a gesture so intimate it almost feels like a promise. He steps back slowly, eyes holding yours as if making sure you know he’s leaving, but he’s not really leaving.

“Goodnight,” he says softly, voice hoarse.

“Goodnight, Aaron,” you smile, the dreaminess of the moment filling you up, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your skin.

As you close the door behind you, you lean back against it, your hand resting for a moment on the handle. Your heart is still racing. You hadn’t expected a kiss like that—gentle, sweet, full of promise. But as you sink back against the door, a soft, satisfied smile tugs at your lips.

It had been worth the wait.

If you want to be a part of my taglist, please submit an ask specifying series, fandom, or all and I will happily add you!

[kteezy997]

Beyond Business-part seven//t.c.

Warnings:yearning, sexual tension, flirting undertones, kissing, cursing

The following week leading up to the Golden Globes, Timmy took every opportunity to get close to you.

You got a paper cut, resulting in the tiniest little cut on your hand, but he insisted on being your little nurse. “Come here let me see.” he said, taking your hand to the sink to run it under some cold water. He held your hand, pretending to examine the cut. You tried to hold in a giggle while this was happening. It was hard.

He even put a bandaid on your hand. “Timmy there’s not even any blood and the bandage will be in the way when I do things.” you laughed.

“I don’t care. I have to take care of you.” he asserted. Once he got the bandaid adhered to his liking, he pressed a kiss to the barely-there wound. “All better.” he grinned.

It seemed every other time he had to stand next to you, his hand nonchalantly found its way to rest on your lower back.

There was one time when he brushed your hair off of your shoulder, and let the pads of his fingers trickle along the side of your neck, slowly, giving you shivers.

“Timothée.” you warned in that moment, but you were weak in the attempt.

“I know.” he answered. There was melancholy in his voice. But he perked back up after a moment, saying, “Hey, I got you something to wear to the Globes.” He moved quickly to his coat closet nearby.

“Oh? That’s not necessary Timmy, I’m sure I have something.” you insisted, following him.

“Shhh.” he hushed you, grabbing a garment bag off the rod in the closet. He handed it over to you, that damn grin all over his face.

“Timmy, I-I’m just an assistant.” you reluctantly took the dress from him, “I don’t need anything special.”

“You are much more than just an assistant to me. Anyway, it’s nothing crazy, but I thought the color would nice on you. Try it on and show me.”

You winced, “Ugh, this is silly. I don’t need this kind of attention.”

“Go, bathroom, now.” he demanded.

You mumbled a protest on your way to the bathroom to change.

………

You were surprised that he knew your size. The dress fit really well. It was almost as if you picked it out yourself.

Timmy was right: the color did suit you, and the length wasn’t too short or anything.

“I told you to come back out so I can see it.” he called from the other room.

You sighed. This was not something you did;parade in front of a man. But it was Timmy, so maybe it would be okay. And anyway, he wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer right now.

You exited the bathroom, feeling a little shy, being so dressed up in front him.

“Whoa.” he said, his eyes widened.

“Does it look bad? I think it’s kinda nice. I like the color and the flowers, and the sleeves.” you rambled a bit, thinking he hated the way you looked.

He cleared his throat, nodding, “Yeah, it looks perfect. You’re so beautiful.” He came over to you, looking at you up and down.

You blushed.

“Here,” he began, reaching behind your head, unclamping the claw clip that held all of your hair up, “you should wear your hair down. That will look best.”

You shook your head a bit, letting your hair loose on your shoulders. “Okay, whatever you say, boss.”

“Hm.” he grinned, “I really wanna kiss you right now.”

“Is it the dress? Maybe I should change back into my other clothes.” you joked.

Timmy shook his head, “No, no, it’s just you.” He put his hands on your hips, sliding them across your back.

Your bodies touched, your hands went to his chest.

“Can I kiss you?”

“You didn’t ask permission before.” you pointed out, referring to the night he came over to your place.

With that, his lips met yours in a brief, longing kiss. He pulled away after a moment, saying, “We should stop now, because I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself if I kiss you again.”

………

The morning of the Globes came and he texted you first thing: ‘can u spend the day with me?’

‘I can if you need me to.’ you replied.

‘please🥺’

You showered, got ready and brought your dress inside of its garment bag, and your hair and makeup stuff along to Timmy’s house.

You let yourself in with all of your things.

“Hey, you’re here.” you heard him say, and his footsteps drew near.

“Yeah. Are you by yourself? I figured Aidan and your friends would be here.”

“Nope, just me and you for a while.” he said, taking your makeup bag from you.

“Oh, why is that?” you asked, following him further inside.

He helped you set your things down on the table, turning to you, he said, “Stop it, you know why.”

“Your girlfriend could have kept you company.”

“You are more my girlfriend than she is.” he took your hand, looking down at it, slowly running his thumb over your fingers.

“Don’t get used to saying things like that out loud.”

“Fuck,” he breathed out, grabbing you, “I just want you.” he placed you against the wall.

You moaned softly as you felt his body on yours and his lips met your neck.

His hands swept up your thighs, up your hips to rest there. He slid his palms toward your lower back, then lower.

You gasped as you felt him give your ass a squeeze.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“Shit, the guys are early.” Timmy cursed.

January 19, 2025

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake @imnotoverlyobsessive @timhalchala

[lostinlovingrevery]

He's Definitely Obsessed With You: Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Just Kiss Already

Plot: You and Logan are finally beginning to navigate your relationship and your new lives together. Logan is carrying dark secrets, and finally opens up to you.

A/N: Oh lordy I'm finally done with it. It turned out so fluffy in the beginning and angsty in the end. It'll get better! (Then worse)

Warnings: Mentions of war, past history of violence, anxiety, a bit of jealously, a bunch of fluff towards the beginning, angst near the end, mentions of a past assault (not logan or reader) Logan just needs a hug, so does reader. Also logan is probably not super accurate to his character..?

Word Count: 7470

Prev<- ❤️ ->Next

Years of aching for someone you weren’t sure cared about you the same you did for them was forgotten about the moment Logan came back into your life.

The comfort and safety you always felt in his presence resumed, the admiration of the man you grew to know for over a year in a jungle had only grown stronger as you watched him adjust to a new life and do it with grace. Perhaps it’s because he’s done it before, he knew the drill. Yet still, you found yourself falling for him all over again. You knew him as Logan Howlett, soldier. While you both shared a closeness, there was still a war, there was always an air between you that prevented anything further developing. The most that would happen between you would be conversations of the future, lingering touches, and side glances. Now you could know him as Logan Howlett, friend. Although that’s not necessarily what you’d call your relationship.

Things were unspoken between you.

You found yourself truly looking forward to going out now, because he was going to be there. Although you didn’t go to the wild parties that Rose likes. That wasn’t Logans style and honestly wasn’t yours either, albeit you did it to please Rose and told yourself that it was a good idea even if you ended up dreading the whole ordeal anyway. You and Logan found yourselves doing more…Domestic activities. Movies, festivals, dinners, lunches, the local bar, even the gym. 

“You wanna go see the Exorcist tomorrow night?” 

Logan turned his attention away from the drunken people very badly singing karaoke at the small stage the bar had. The karaoke machine was a new addition to the lively bar, adding more atmosphere to the place that was already unique in it’s burnt orange and brown color scheme, neon signs, and pop art littering the walls. You were sitting in a booth together, his arm draped loosely around you. He quirked his brow in questioning. 

“The Exorcist?..” He asked, then smirked. “Ain’t that a movie about demons and all?”

“Yeeesss.” You respond with a singsong voice, meeting his eyes. He sipped his whiskey, not breaking eye contact from you. 

“No.” He says after firmly setting his beer back on the table. He licked his lips of the droplets of whiskey left on them, and you couldn’t help but stare and think, ‘I could clean that up for you’

You think a lot of things about Logan now. You don’t plan to stop. At one point you would’ve felt guilty to think something of a friend. You and Logan could not be considered friends anymore.

“Why not?” You asked in a whine. “I wanna see it! It looks good! My friend Marie says it was cool!”

“It’s gonna scare you. Just like that last movie.” He says. “Then I gotta listen to you whine about it. You’re gonna call me and complain about being too scared to sleep. Then neither of us will get any sleep.” 

“So?” You grin. “There’s an easy solution to that.”

“Is that so?”

“You just come stay with me after, and then I won’t be too scared. Your presence will scare off all the bad guys.”

Logan raised his brows up. “Yeah? Where am I gonna sleep then? Your couch?” He leans in, and you felt a deep crimson blush burning at your cheeks under his flirty stare. “Not very comfortable.” 

“Maybe you wouldn’t have to sleep on the couch.” You say, and you could feel your breath hitching at the idea. Logan smiled, but it wasn’t his usual sweet smile he gave you. This was something darker and more…lustful, that you were beginning to see more often when you two talked. Lately, all your conversations turn to something flirty, indiciating the rising tensions between you. 

He opened his mouth to say something, but Rose interrupted.

“Alright! Here you go, me and Adam got refills for you guys.” She says, as her- and Adam, who was the leather daddy you seen her makeout with the night Logan came home. Apparently he’d made enough of an impression on her to keep him around. You and Logan separated, occurring to both of you just how close you’ve gotten in the booth. He never removed his arm from your shoulders though, his hand gently squeezing the shoulder it was resting on, as you gave him a side glance, noticing a hint of pink on his ears. 

Things were very unspoken between you.

The way your relationship has developed since he returned was something you thought you would only dream of. 

You got to see more of that playful, boyish charm Logan had that you saw hints of in Vietnam. The charm that made you always crave to see more. Not that you couldn’t love his broody self as well. Each had their own perks that made you smile, where you couldn’t help but think ‘he’s so cute.’ The way he’d tease you, not in a mean way, more loving as he pokes fun at things such as your outfits, though you’d see the sliver of desire come across his eyes when you come in with those high-waisted jeans and low cut top, highlighting your figure for him in ways he didn’t get to see with your army scrubs. You watched him open up to the world. He’d gotten a great job at the local lumber mill, and even fixed his cabin up a bit, considering it was left empty for years while he was gone. He decorated, got new furniture and everything. Rose implied it was to impress you but you think he was simply just trying to…Make a home for himself after being gone for so long. 

He was taking up hobbies like boxing, which you certainly enjoyed watching, as you’d go to the gym with him occasionally in attempts to committing to your own workout (news flash, you aren’t very successful). You weren’t exactly a fan of the fighting, you didn’t like seeing Logan getting punched, but lord the intense concentration on his face, how his brows crease as he scowls at his opponent, the way sweat covered his body head to toe after brawling for an hour. You may not have understood the appeal of fighting each other. A male thing, it must be. You watched the boys in Vietnam do the same thing, practicing boxing and wrestling and all, although that was probably more practice than a hobby.. You did understand the appeal of observing. At least, observing him. 

You watched Logan as he quickly dodged and punched his opponent, effectively knocking him back. A few more swings and it was a knock out. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, shaking your head as you still didn’t understand the whole appeal. Male ego? Still, there was a certain…attraction to seeing how powerful he really can be. You knew that he was actually holding back when he boxes. If he applied his real physical strength- the mutant aspect to his strength, the other side would be down in seconds. Instead, Logan used boxing as a way to focus on his own movements, teaching him to be quick on his feet and defensive.

Logan was watching you as you were distracted with your gym bag, taking a heavy drink of water from his bottle, he took in your outfit, the way it hugged your body and curves, you had worn a workout outfit before, shorts and tank top and it was driving him wild as he kept an eye on you while you were running on the treadmill. Seems like no matter what you do, or wear, you always drive him crazy.. Grabbing a towel, he patted his forehead and hands dry, as he walked to the otherside of the ring where you were, perched on a bench. He nodded to his opponent, a coworker from work, before climbing over the ropes and hopping to the ground. You always waited for him to finish up when you went to the gyn with him, and the both of you would go to lunch together after. 

“Enjoy the show?” He grinned. You rolled your eyes. 

“Enjoy the senseless punching each other? Totally.” You scoffed, but it was merely teasing. You were glad to see him enjoying himself. You stood up from the bench, going to grab your bag, but he picked it up for you instead, stepping close to grab it, his chest bumping your shoulder and you turned to look at him. Your eyes met and you felt that familiar electricity run between you both.

He looked down at you and the look he gave you felt like he wanted to eat you alive. It led to a warm feeling that sunk low in your belly. You noticed Logans nostrils flared and his eyes darkened. 

“You sure you didn’t enjoy that sweetheart?” He says in a low voice, “Watching me?” 

He lowered his head down towards you, and you felt like your heart was in your throat. You saw his eyes flick down to your lips. You swallowed but before you could say anything-

“Hey Logan, good job today man-” 

Logans coworker and sparing opponent came up behind him, smacking him on the back and starting conversation, forcing Logan to step away from you, the heat of the moment evaporating. Although you saw him glance at your while his friend talked, and there seemed to be the lingering look of desire, excepting softer. Yearning. 

You knew though it wasn’t always happy for Logan though. You knew of the nightmares he’d have, the fits of panic. There was things he didn’t tell you. You didn’t ask. You knew if and when he’s ready to talk, he will. 

You found yourself happy with Logan, the way things are. You had felt such need for him for so long, and now that he was here- you surely thought you’d be desperate for his love and attention. Simply though, you enjoyed the time with him. Things didn’t feel…rushed. Maybe it was because in Vietnam, you constantly wondered if you would wake up to an attack, or a bomb, or something. You savored the small joys, like a warm Coke, or music on the radio, or just being able to laugh with Logan. Now though you’re able to enjoy those not just because you don’t have to worry about threats on your life, but because now you know that you and Logan had the rest of your lives to understand each other, for something to work out on it’s own time. It had be a couple years since he came back, and you both moved towards something steadily. 

1975, Alberta, Canada

You were working your shift at the hospital. The hospital had just built a new wing- an emergency center, and you were one the lucky nurses to get transferred over. Apparently your history of being in Vietnam made them think you’d be a wonderful addition to an emergency wing where being quick on your feet, and attention to detail was important. 

Of course they were right but you would have liked to had a choice in the matter. 

Especially since they decided you were to be the charge nurse as well. Without asking. 

Now you were bombarded with all sorts of new duties. Stuff that you didn’t even know existed in doing. Honestly, you believed that this was just the Chief of Staffs way of dumping stuff he didn’t want to deal with on you. You had medical forms to fill out, request forms to put in, and patients to worry about-

Huh, that felt like deja vu….

You were out in the main lobby, acting as triage for now. They were quick in putting you in charge of nurses, supply and drug lists, and various other adminstrative work, yet not quick in hiring more nurses to help you out. Anytime you complained, your boss would remind you,

 “What an absolute honor it is for you to even have this job, with all the womens rights going on. Those ladies would kill to have a job like yours! I mean, i’m sure you wouldn’t be able to find a job THIS progressive at another hospital…” 

What a dick.

“Hey honey,” You heard Rose behind you, and you turned in your chair and gave her a sneering smile.

“Well hello-” You greet sarcastically. “Hows life on the 3rd floor?”

“Whew! Someones bitter.” Rose chuckled. “It’s great, actually. I get breaks, lunches, and all I gotta do is assist the doctors with no extra responsibilities. No uh, administration work, or lack of staffing, or y’know, dealing with someone who shoved something up their ass.” She bragged.

You scoffed. “You got it completely wrong. I’m very happy here. Mind you.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Yeah, you totally look happy.” Rose crosses her arms, an amused smile as she looked down at you in your seat. She looked up, and an even more amused look came across her face. “Although I think your day is about to get better.”

“What?” You blinked, before turning to see who she was talking about. 

You would be embarrassed by how fast you smiled and got up from your chair, but honestly you could’ve cared less. 

Logan had walked in, wearing those jeans you loved on him, a jacket resting over a flannel, and a white t-shirt. He does like his layers, but in snowy Canada- you needed it. He spotted you, and smiled as you both approached each other in the lobby- which was fairly empty, meeting in the middle. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

“You going on lunch soon? Figured I take you out, since you’ve seem so stressed lately…” He smiles. 

“Oh-” Your shoulders slacked. “That’s sweet, my lunch was an hour ago though…” You pursed your lips together, “Sorry.”

“Oh, well, how about a break then? I’ll…get you a candy bar or something.” He says, a small shrug of his shoulders, his smile fading into something more genuine and close. You perked up.

“Yeah, that actually sounds good, I can take a break. Wait for me outside, I’ll be right back.” You hold your hand up, turning to go back to your desk and say goodbye to Rose. She was watching you guys in amusement as you walked back to her, grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, and your pager off your desk, and shooting her a Don’t you dare say anything look. If you thought she was riding on you hard before Logan came back, she got ten times worse. She says the tension between you two was practically unbearable. You have no idea what she’s talking about.  She gave you a knowing smile and you rolled your eyes, turning around and pulling your jacket on as you walked back towards the entrance, letting another nurse know you were going on break and to page you if anything is needed. 

You met Logan outside, where he was currently banging on a vending machine with his hand. You smiled at the sight, this tall lumbering man, scowling at the machine. 

“Yknow you need to give it money first?” You called out to him, and he lifted his head and smirked. 

“Ate my quarters.” He says. 

“Watch- and learn.” You wink. You reached into your jacket, pulling out a few quarters, sticking them into the coin slot, you pushed in the slot- but not fully, as you reached into the vending slot, able to pull it open just enough to grab the candy bar- and pull back the coin slot, your quarters still in place. You pulled the quarters out, and held up the candy bar in victory as you tilted your head, and beamed victoriously. 

Logan chuckled warmly. “Ain’t that stealing bub?”

You mock gasped, “Me? No way.” You say, holding your hand out, you gave him the quarters. 

“I was supposed to get you the candy bar yknow.”

“You did.” You say nonchalantly as you opened the wrapper, breaking off a piece to hand to him, before biting into the candy yourself, humming happily at the treat- much needed after the day you’ve been having. “Thank you-” You add as you chew. He shrugged, eating his piece of candy you shared with him. “So, anything exciting going on today?” You asked.

“No, just watched tv.” He says. “Started reading that book you suggested.”

Your eyes went wide and you smiled big, “Really? What you think?”

“Pretty good so far, I’m only on the first chapter though.” He shrugs. He glanced around, clearly thinking about something. “You wanna go to Reillys tonight?” 

“Reilly’s? Sure, I’m in.” You nodded, taking another bite out of your candy bar. “You want me to see if Rose and Adam-”

“I always actually thinking just me and you.” 

Your heart fluttered. 

“I mean, I know we do stuff all the time but…” He shrugged. “Just…Something, so we can talk.” 

“We’re talking right now…” You tease gently, rocking your body back and forth, but the blush on your cheeks told Logan you thoroughly agreed with the idea of going out, just the two of you. 

“Different kind of talking.” He says. “The kind where you wear something pretty, and I buy you a drink.” 

You couldn’t hide your giddiness at his words, letting out a small breath as your blush ran deeper, you looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice…” You say tilting your head. 

He looked relieved for a moment, before returning to his usual demeanor, as he leaned over you, looking down at you like he was going to eat you alive. “So it’s a da-”

Your pager went off, and you groaned. “Sorry.”

“They can’t survive 5 minutes without you, huh?” He grumbles.

“Apparently not.” You turned your pager off. “I gotta go, but thanks for the candy bar Lo-” you hold up the empty wrapper, you reached for his hand, wrapping your hand around his, and squeezing it. He squeezed it back. “So tonight?”

“I’ll pick you up at 7. Sound good?”

“Great.” 

You began to let go, but he lifted your hand up, kissing the back of it as you watched him, his eyes making contact with yours, before finally he let go. You bit your lip, trying to hide your fluster, quickly turning away to go back into the hospital, as you felt butterflies go through your body. As you tried to go back to work, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you wanted to wear tonight. 

The day went by slow as hell- mainly because you couldn’t stop watching the clock. You got off at 4, giving you nearly 3 hours to get home and get ready to go out. 

The entire time you wondered if this was the start for you and Logan. After 5 years, becoming such close friends, sharing intimate moments, and shared connections in a similar past- you couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Logan was the person for you. You denied that idea a long time, purely just a person who cared deeply for the people you found closest to you. Now though, you couldn’t deny the rapid flutter of your heart. You thought back of all the ‘close call’ moments you had with Logan. Moments where you nearly kissed, admitted your feelings- usually moments that got interrupted by something or other. You always took that to mean that maybe it just wasn’t your time yet, but you felt a charge with Logan today. The way he came all the way down to see you at work, to ask you out tonight when he could’ve just called you when you got off, because he knew your hours- surely he had been thinking about you as well.

When you got home, you tried your best to keep your cool. You didn’t tell Rose initially- but your nerves started to get to you. What if you were overthinking it? What if you dress up to nice and give off the wrong impression? Rose though, could read you- the way you were nervously pacing around the house as you anxiously cleaned real quick before you got ready. 

“What is going on with you?” She asks, following you to your room, as you pulled open your closet and started searching your outfits. 

“I- Nothing!” You say, but you start blushing, and cover you face. “Okay, I think Logan asked me out tonight, and he said something about wearing something pretty but I don’t know I uh…” You bit your lip. “I’m wondering if I took it wrong.”

“Okay, hold up- time out. Logan asked you out?!” Her voice pitched up as she stepped into the room.

“I don’t know! He said he wanted me and him to go out to Reillys- just me and him, to “talk”, and then when I pointed out we do that all the time and he said the kind of talking where I where something pretty and he buys me a drink.” You explain, all in one breath as anxiety wracked you. You didn’t know why you were so nervous, it was Logan, one of your best friends, you didn’t need to be nervous over him but you were.

Rose stared at you like you were insane. “Okay, first, breathe.” She says holding her hands up. “Second of all. It’s a date.”

You sigh as you took in a breath. “I don’t know what to wear it’s- been awhile.”

“Oh, I know.” Rose looked you up and down. “Could’ve had some practice while he was still gone but noooo.” 

“Rose-” You whined.

“Alright calm down- Lets start with whatchu got in that closet of yours.”

You and Rose spent the next hour trying to put together the perfect outfit. She convinced you to wear a black, satin slip dress, something that complimented your figure perfectly- while still remaining neutral enough- seeing as they were all the rage and often seen worn in bars anyway. She helped you with your hair and makeup, complimenting your features while keeping a more natural look. Rose herself was all about the wild makeup- flashy colors, paint as much as you could, but since this was a possible “first date”, she agreed something more natural and light was appropriate. You picked your colors that complimented your skin tone well, and did your hair in your favorite style. You thought you looked pretty nice- but nerves still crept at you.

You were no strange for looking nice, but you really haven’t been on a date in years. It wasn’t like you didn’t know how flirt- considering you and Logan been flirting for over a year since your reunion. You wondered if this was what it was between you and Logan, would things be different? How is this going to impact your relationship? 

Rose noticed your sudden lackluster demeanor, her hand going to your back. 

“He’s gonna love this.” She smiles warmly at you. “The man is TOTALLY obsessed with you already. This is gonna send him through the roof! Lookatchu!” she coos.

You giggled, shaking your head. “Thank you.”

“I’m just so glad to see my girl finally growing up.” Rose says, with fake emotion in her voice as she pretends to wipe a tear from her eye, it made you laugh more- helping you ease your nerves. 

You opened your mouth to retort her comment, but the landline started ringing. Wondering if it was Logan, you quickly went to answer it. 

“Hello?”

You heard a man asking for your name.

“This is she?” You respond, a little confused.

He said your name again. “It’s Frank.”

“Frank?- Frank Jones?” You say in surprise, as the doctor, a man you considered your mentor years ago from Vietnam, came to your picture. “Wow, it’s been awhile, how are you?”

“Uh..Fine. Listen, you okay?” 

“Yeah…” You say slowly. “Why?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just checking on you.” He says. “Did you ever end up going to med school?” 

“Well, no I just hadn’t really-”

“That’s fine. Listen, be careful, okay?” 

“Frank, what are you-?”

“I know you and Logan Howlett are friends.” His voice suddenly toward low, and warning.

You blinked, as you looked at the phone in confusion. Your brows creased, as you felt something weird turn in your stomach. 

“You…Know Logan?”

“I can’t stay on long. I’m just calling to check on you. You need to be careful, especially around Howlett. Don’t get involved in anything.”

Before you could respond, the line went dead. You stared at the phone as you heard the beeps, turn into a flat line, before you hung up the landline. Rose looked at you in questioning. 

“That was…weird.” You muttered. 

“Who was that?” 

“A doctor I worked under in Vietnam.” You look at her. “He was really cryptic though, and he knew me and Logan were friends, I don’t think I ever told him about Logan. He told me I needed to be careful.” 

Rose raised a brow, then crossed her arms. “Okay, I was excited, now I’m scared.” She says. “Why would this guy conveniently call you when you’re about to go on a date with him?”

You shrugged, chewing on your lip. Since Logan had come back, you knew he was carrying something, a weight on his shoulders. He never told you what though.  All you knew was him being apart of a operative CIA team and he left it. Anytime you two talked about Vietnam, or anything regarding it- he’d get this haunted look on his face, like he was going to be sick. So, you never forced him to talk about it. Sometimes it would just come up, it being an impactful part of your life- something you still try to find meaning in today, understand what it did to you and your future. There was a time you never wanted to think about it, but then there’s times it’s all you wanted to think about. Logan though, seemed to never want to go back to it. Whatever he’s done, whatever he’s seen, it was enough for him to want to forget. 

You wondered if Frank Jones knew something about it. Was it bad enough that he had to warn you? You never felt unsafe with Logan. He has been nothing but respectful and safe- not just to you, but the people around you. Rose has stated multiple times that just having Logan nearby has made her feel more comfortable as well. 

“Are you okay?” Rose asked, putting a hand on your shoulder, you looked at her, and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll..talk to Logan about it later. Or maybe try to find Franks number, call him back or something tomorrow.” You say. She nods.

“Maybe I should go with you…” She says. You saw the worry on her face. Rose was never the type to be fearful or shy away from anything. You smiled.

“It’s fine.” You say. “I’m just going to enjoy the evening, right?” 

Rose forced a smile, but you could tell she now seemed hesitant to let you go off alone. Before you could say anything else, you both heard knocking your door. 

“That’s probably him-” You say, as you attempt to shrug off the weirdness of that phone call. You went down stairs, immediately stopping at a mirror to check your hair and makeup- Rose following you, before you went to the front door and opened it. 

You were a bit taken away by how nicely dressed Logan was. So, this is a date

He was wearing a clean white button up dress shirt, tucked into dark blue jeans, and his typical leather jacket over the shirt. His hair was slicked back, and he looked a mixture of nervous- and excited to see you. You noticed one arm behind his back.

Any worries you had originally went to the back of your head as you took in his handsome figure. It was that you never seen Logan dressed nice- but he was dressing nice for you.

Logan seemed to have the same reaction to you, his eyes trailing over your body, and you see his jaw tense up. 

“You…You look beautiful.” He says softly. A deep blush came across your cheeks, and you took a deep breath to regain your composure. 

“Thank you,” you say politely. “You don’t look so bad yourself?” You smiled, giving him a knowing look. He chuckled, looking down at himself, almost as if he was embarrassed.

“I got you these.” He says, dropping his arm from behind him, and pulling out a bouquet of flowers. “I…Thought you’d like em.” 

They were Peonies- your favorite flower. You remembered months ago walking past the local flower shop with him, and you had gushed over how beautiful they were. Honestly, they made you think of him- the way they start as all closed, before slowly opening up as they become exposed to warmth, the sun, and water. It's what you think of Logan, the way he was always closed up in himself, only to finally begin to open up, as you watched him blossom from the quiet and reserved soldier, to a man finally accepting a life full of joy and possibly…love.

You were surprised, he remembered, and even went out of his way to bring you a bouquet. 

“Lo- they’re-” You laughed softly taking them. “They’re beautiful! Thank you!” He nodded in acknowledgement, you turned back to the house, “Let me put them in some water and we can go-”

“Here girly, I got them, you go on.” Rose came to the rescue, grabbing the bouquet. “Hi Logan.”

“Hey Rose,” Logan nodded politely to her, sticking his hands in his pockets casually. “How are you?”

“Fine.” She smiles. “Go on you two, go on your date.” She urges. Still blushing- a warm heat spread across your face, you turned back to Logan. “I won’t wait up!-” You heard Rose call out as you shut the door behind you. He smirked, taking his hand out of his pocket, and reaching for yours.

“Ready?”

When you arrived at the bar, you both agreed for opting to the small table towards the back, allowing you a little privacy in your conversations in the bar, which was packed as usual on a Saturday night. Logan was a complete gentleman, pulling your chair out for you and pushing it in as you sat. 

“What would you like to drink?” He asks, 

You gave him your order, and he left to go up to the counter to get them. You sat at your table and waited, you took in the atmosphere, adjusting your dress a few times and playing with your hair. Your eyes turned to the counter, where you saw Logan standing, palms pressed to the counter- clearly waiting for your drinks, but something you noticed.

His head was turned, talking to someone. A lady who looked to be around your age, with dark hair that went past her shoulders. She was absolutely beautiful, and she was looking at Logan in a way that twisted your stomach. 

It was no secret that Logan turned heads, and before it never really go to you- perhaps because you knew you were just friends at the time, that you didn’t have a right to be jealous (although it had struck your mind). Logan had never entertained anyone though, and no one has ever approached Logan while you guys were out together- although you definitely seen the stares. You honestly had never considered other women flirting with him- or him flirting with other women, because you yourself had not flirted with anyone- except him.

Maybe this time it was because you two were actually moving forward. Although you couldn’t say that with certainty. You just did not like the eyes she was making towards Logan. You couldn’t see his face, and his body language was fairly neutral, but you felt a small irritation in the fact that he was even talking to her. 

Get a grip, it’s a bar, people talk.

You saw her laugh, flipping her hair a bit, and her hand went to his forearm

Oh for gods sake. 

The bartender brought the drinks, and he grabbed them, a polite nod to her before turning back to you. You felt a small relief that he wasn’t sticking around to talk to her- whoever she was. 

“Here you go.” He handed you your drink, then moved to sit next to you. You smiled up at him, before turning to sip on the straw, before glancing at him again.

“Who was that girl you were talking to?”

Real smooth.

“Hm?” He looked up at you as he took a drink from his whiskey, he leaned back in his chair. “Oh, I don’t know. Some new person in town.” 

You forced a smile and nodded, and Logan seemed to sense your slight tension- a noticeable change when just a few moments ago you were happy and joking around. He leaned forward towards the table again, and he grabbed your hand, holding it on the table as he looked at you.

“So, how was the rest of your day?” 

You relaxed at his warm tone, the way he started a new conversation. You answered his question, and you both fell into a deep conversation- the way you normally do. Not just about your days, but you would turn towards anything. Recently, it was the politics happening in the States, where mutants were being treated as if they were some sort of criminals. Some folks in government were trying to bring back the bill over mutant regulation, the same bill that had been shot down over a year ago. It bothered you- and worried you greatly that mutants were still getting flack in a time of great social change. Canada hadn’t seemed to address any issue of mutants, possibly because there’s no actual “problem” to address, and maybe it made you a little more thankful that you moved to this country. Something in you though, your heart tugged at the thought of those people getting mistreated. 

Logan though, always knew the right thing to say- to put your mind at ease. 

During the night, Logan complimented you, not just your physical looks, but the type of person you were. He always had a hand on you, usually holding your hand, but sometimes he’d reach out- a soft smile on his face as he’d cup your cheek. His thumb rubbing softly against your skin, making your eyes want to flutter shut. 

There was a new energy charging between you, as you both began to feel open to something newer between you, something more romantic. 

You never noticed the dark haired woman again, even as she sat at the bar counter- staring and watching you both continue on your night.

After, you and Logan strolled through the town, admiring the night life and people watching. Logan, normally keeping an arm around your shoulder, had one around your waist, keeping you close to him. You laughed, and you flirted, you teased each other. You felt warmth in you, the way he kept you so close- almost protectively. 

It was getting late, and you both knew that it was getting close to the end of the night, but there was something burning in you. The phone call from earlier had creeped its way back into your head. You didn’t want to ruin the mood, especially since Logan had dropped his arm from your waist, to grab your hand. You needed to ask though, because you knew if you didn’t and you never found out what it was about it’ll probably come back and haunt you later.

“Hey, Lo?” 

“Hm?” 

You stopped, and he stopped with you. You were standing on an empty street, one of the smaller neighborhoods of the town, not too far from yours. It was quiet, peaceful, one of the times you could really appreciate moving to this small town- all because of him. You purse your lips together, unsure how to tell him what happened. 

“Something wrong bub?” He asked, looking at your concerned face. He brought a hand to your chin, examining you as if he was trying to read your mind. 

“Something weird happened, before you came to pick me up.” You begin. “I got a phone call from an old colleague, someone who was in Vietnam. Doctor Frank Jones. Do you know him?”

Logans brows creased, and shook his head. “Not familiar with any doctors. Just you.” He smiled. You nodded, eyes darting away from him, feeling regretful now that you even brought it up. 

“Well he knew you.” You say. “Or…I don’t know maybe he doesn’t…” 

His smile dropped and he stepped closer, dropping his hand from your chin. “What did he say?” 

“He said he knew that we were hanging out, together I guess. He…Told me to be careful. Around you. Then he hung up.” 

Logan frowned, his brows creasing together. You saw his jaw tense up, as he looked up from you, looking around the empty neighborhood. 

“Do you know why he would say that?” You asked softly. Logan looked back at you.

For a moment, he looked angry his lips pulled tight as his eyes narrowed- but then his expression softened, and he looked just plain upset. “I….” He swallowed. “I’m not fully sure. I suppose I can guess though.” 

“You can..guess?” You asked. 

“Look…I…If he was in Vietnam then maybe he knew about me. About the team I was apart of.” He says. “I didn’t want to tell you this. I…I didn’t want you to look at me differently. To be scared of me.” 

“Lo.” You put a hand on his chest. “I could never be scared of you. You being secretive from me though…That scares me.” 

He brought his hand to yours, squeezing it gently, before pulling it away. “After you left, me and Victor got into some trouble. He went after some girl in one of those villages. He got stopped by the commanding officer- not the one you knew, we had a new guy come in. Victor killed him.”

You gasped. “What- are you serious?” 

“It gets worse.” He says. Guilt flashed across his face. “I…Tried to defend him. He was my brother, the only family I got. We’d been serving together for years and I just- thought it’s what I needed to do but… They sentenced us with a death squad. Well, you can guess what happened.” 

You stared at Logan with wide eyes, unbelieving of what he was telling you. He never said anything once, about any of this happening in the letters you communicated back and forth and that…hurt you more than anything. You knew Victor was a bit of a wild card, the man hit on you more times than you care to remember- Logan usually coming to your rescue for that. For him to do something to hurt someone innocent- and then to kill a commanding officer? You didn’t know what to think, as you looked back up at Logan. 

He was clearly struggling as he talked about this. Now you knew why he never wanted to talk about it, why he went silent- with the look in his eyes like he was seeing ghosts. It wasn’t just Vietnam that happened, but that. He opened his mouth, taking in a breath as he spoke his next sentence.

“Obviously it means that they figured out we were mutants, and couldn’t die.” He continues. “We got approached by this man, some kind scientist in the military. He was working on this project- and figured that me and Victor were perfect. He saw our strength, our- mutation. Thought it would be helpful.”

“The operative team you were on.” You say. He nodded. 

“Team X. At first it was just stuff around Vietnam, then we branched out to other countries. Just classified missions, breaking into communist parties, getting intel- sometimes we’d take out a few bad guys but then it just got worse and worse and…The team was becoming brutal. The things they were doing. I couldn’t do it.”  

You reached for his hand, and he looked down at where you were holding him. Then he looked back up at you.

“I thought maybe I was doing something good.” He says quietly. “Helping the country, ending wars. I hadn’t known anything other than violence until you showed up. You made me want to be better and…I just became worse.” 

“Lo-” You stepped closer. “No- No, it’s….” You searched for your words. “You’re not a bad man Lo. You just…Got dealt bad cards. You left, you knew these things were wrong. That’s important. You keep going everyday trying to be better and do better- I know you do, I see it.” 

“That doctor, whoever called you. I didn’t know him. He was right though. You should be careful.” He says gently. “I wondered if I should have even come back when I left the team. I knew you were here, that you had been waiting for me and I didn’t want to disappoint you.” 

“I’m not scared of you Lo.” You say softly. “I know you would never hurt me.” 

“I came back for you.” He says softly. You looked into his eyes, and he looked away, shame on his face- as you brought your hand up to cup his cheek. You leaned forward, softly pressing your lips against his. You gave him room to pull away, but he returned the kiss back. 

Despite everything he just told you, you couldn’t bring yourself to be angry- not at him for not telling you anything, and not for the things he told you he committed. You knew it was something he had been clearly carrying around, a deep guilt he held inside himself- guilt being an emotion that you knew yourself all too well, a feeling that any soldier feels when they come home and you weren’t even a soldier. Guilt may have been his cross to bear, even if his intentions were good, honorable even- and it led to bad things. You knew that it was going to take time, for him to work through this and while you couldn’t heal him or fix him, you could support him- hold his hand and push him to keep going. It was just yet another casualty of war, a man, led to believe he was doing the right thing- only to realize it was all the wrong thing after all. 

You had spent years wondering about your own actions, you wanted to help people, that’s why you signed up. Though you wondered; did you just become another number, another reason for the fighting to keep going? Did your participation support the violence when all you wanted to do was stop it?

There was only thing you knew. It was all in the past. 

The war had been over for 2 years. 

It was time to move on. You didn’t know how you deal with the moral dilemma of knowing the things you done, how do you make up for it? 

You did know that you were glad that you and Logan both made it. Standing there tonight. Perhaps it wasn’t the most romantic conversation- but as Logan pressed his lips to yours, eager and almost demanding, his hands grabbing your hips and pushing you against him- you could feel it. The relief he felt as if he just admitted his sins to his god. You knew Logan Howlett was a good man, that all he wanted to be was a good man. 

Maybe that’s all that was important in the end. 

You parted from you kiss, lost for words- and your breath, and he leaned his forehead against yours. 

“I’m sorry.” He says, his grip on your hips tight, as if he was afraid to let go.

“You should be.” You say. “That kiss was overdue.” He let out a small laugh, knowing that it’s not what he meant- but he could be sorry for that too. You brought your hands up to cup his face, your fingers softly scratching at his beard, making his eyes flutter shut. “We’ll work through this. Okay?” You say softly. “You don’t have to bear this alone anymore.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” He mutters softly.  

“On the contrary, I been waiting for this for awhile. You owe me.” 

He smirked. “That so?”

“Mhm.” 

“I’ll make it up to you.” He says softly, pulling you closer against him. You wanted to kiss him again, but you could tell what he really needed, was a hug. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning into him- hugging him tightly, and he responded with the same, burying his face into your neck. 

You’ll be alright.

[ohnococo]

Just A Moment | Sub!Gojo x Dom!Reader

Good days, bad days, whatever it is, Satoru comes to you often. When he does he’s always a little cocky, challenging you, begging you with long lashes lowered and pouty pink lips to tame him, if you dare. You did dare, because it was what he wanted, and was what he needed. It was what you wanted too, because as mouthy as he could be, he was just as sweet when you finally wrangled him into submission.

When Satoru bypasses all of that and comes to you like this, though? You know he’s had a terrible, awful day. It almost makes you feel bad for him, when the very first thing he does after you’ve invited him inside is get on his knees in front of you, face rubbing against your leg as he whines pathetically. It tells you that tonight will be one of the rare occasions where he does intend to at least try to behave. It tells you he’s here because he needs you more than ever, not to break him, because something else already has, but to build him back up.

❥ WC: 2.3k

❥ Warnings: Gender neutral reader, established relationship, master/pet, dom/sub, porn without plot, light degradation (floor licking), sex toy, fellatio on sex toy, whining, begging, throat fucking, hand job, cum shot, only gojo receiving

“Satoru?”

He shakes his head, rubbing his nose against your thigh so firmly his mask slips out of place. When he tugs it down, letting it rest around his neck, it’s your last needed signal for what he’s asking for.

“Puppy?”

His face leaves the fabric of your pants now, as he tilts his head up to look at you with tired eyes, possibly the furthest you’d ever seen them from the alert and glinting glory you were accustomed to.

“What’s wrong?”

“I haven’t been very good.”

“Really?”

He closes his eyes, lower lip quivering, dipping his head to press to your thigh as his shoulders slump.

“Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

The fact that he snaps to attention, eyes quick to meet yours in a bid for approval from even the smallest of actions, is the final indication you need that he really needs the work tonight just as you’d thought. It’s not often Satoru follows your orders so well from the moment he enters your home.

“Want to talk about it?”

He shakes his head.

“If I don’t know what you’ve done, the severity of your punishment is at my discretion. You know that.”

He nods again, still silent as he waits for you to speak. You allow him his privacy as you move on. You know there are parts of Satoru you don’t have access to, you accept that. You also know just how rarely he even brings mention of his outside life into your home. The punishments and rewards he receives are from behaviour within these walls alone, or behaviours in relation to tasks you’ve assigned him when in the privacy of his own home. If it’s punishment he’s requesting rather than revelling in earning it though…

You hook your fingers in Satoru’s mouth, pushing down until he’s forced to press his chin to the ground with his ass in the air.

“You come here, telling me you’ve been a bad boy, demanding I punish you like it’s just that easy?”

You pull your fingers from his mouth, sitting up and peering down at him, just in case he got his bite back enough to respond. He doesn’t move a muscle, and instead of words he just whines and arches his back.

“I still count those pathetic little noises as backtalk, you know.”

He whines again, seemingly involuntarily, before he’s pressing his face to the ground to muffle his apologies, snapping his head back to the side once he remembers his earlier instruction to look at you—the strain of such a task from this angle be damned.

“Take your clothes off.”

He does, right away, making light work of undressing despite the difficulty in doing so while keeping his cheek pressed firmly to the ground. It only leaves the floor for a moment, hovering inches away as he quickly pulls his top over his head, before it’s back down as he pushes his pants over his hips and wriggles them off. All that remains is his mask, hanging around his neck.

You’re pleased to find him hard already, pretty pink tip glistening with all of the precum gathering just to slowly drip down and onto your hardwood floors.

“Leaking on my floor like that? Really, Puppy?”

He whines out his apologies yet again, biting at his lip to keep from crossing the line he was so used to trampling over.

You sigh, squatting down next to him and running your hand up his back, pale skin already covered in goosebumps in anticipation of your touch. Once you reach his shoulders, then his neck, you grip at the back of his mask, twisting it once to tighten it enough to tug at firmly and force him to crawl backwards until he’s face to face with the small sticky droplet his cock had left behind.

“Lick it up.”

It’s something he does gladly, without hesitation, leaving you beaming with pride and thinking of praises you weren’t yet ready to give. Instead you stroke his back gently, fingertips tracing down his spine until he’s arching beautifully for you. He presses his cheek to the ground, precum now replaced with his saliva, and angles his hips so his ass is in the air, giving you a clear view of the pretty pink hole he so loves to have you claim. It’s sweet, and so very desperate with play having only just started, but it’s also far too presumptuous for tonight.

You twist the mask around his neck again, pulling it until he’s forced to sit back on his haunches. “You haven’t done nearly enough to be begging like that. For that, I don’t think I’ll be touching your ass at all tonight.”

“I wasn’t-“

You twist the mask once more, tightening it further around his neck and keeping his posture pin straight. “You were.”

He knows how to turn it on, eyes big and sad, lips pouting, even when the tight squeeze of his mask makes his cock jump every time you pull it a little harder. It’s a lot for him already, it always is when he’s like this, and his words have already left his mind, so instead he whines again.

You give Satoru a disappointed sigh, shaking your head, “Do I need to shut you up, Puppy? Give your mouth something to do instead of whine?”

His cheeks are stained a deep shade of pink as he looks up at you through thick lashes, knowing you’d degrade him the whole way through, but knowing he needs it nonetheless. He’s a sort of good boy in that way, always adapting to whatever you decide is best for him.

“Sit pretty for me, then.”

You release his mask and his response is immediate. Back straight, elbows tucked close to his sides, and hands settled gently on his thighs as he kneels. It presents his lithe torso perfectly as he opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue. He knows to stay where he’s been put as you leave the room, taking your time rifling through your box of toys—marked by a little SG on the corner.

You know which one you’re going for, you knew from the moment you saw how pretty and pink and chewed up his soft lips were. He had big worries, and you had something bigger. A shade as pretty as his lips, as his hole, as soft and flexible as his body. It’s cute in its own way, but also intimidatingly large. It’s what he needed though, and as you pull the dildo from its protective bag, you’re all too happy to provide.

By the time you’re walking back into the room, Satoru has made another mess. More precum glistens on the floor before him, and a small stream of drool falls from the underside of his tongue, over his lower lip, and down his chin. When he locks eyes on the toy of your choosing, his fingers twitch—betraying his excitement.

You raise the toy to his mouth, rubbing the head against his tongue, spreading his own spit over his lips, before withdrawing it to give your next order.

“Back.”

He leans his head back, sticking his tongue out further, and his cock twitches as you spit right into his mouth. It’s all the warning he’s given before you’ve got the pretty pink dildo sliding into his mouth, and he knows what you expect of him as he wraps his lips around it, sucking with his eyes locked on yours. You give him a nod, and a small curt ’mmhm’ prompting him to rise further on his knees, allowing him to take more of the silicone in his mouth, til it just taps at his throat, before he’s pulling back.

His fingertips press into his bare thighs as he moves up and down, taking the dildo deeper and deeper past his throat—putting on a pretty show for you as he makes his way to the base with each movement. His eyes watch you, lashes fluttering every time the thick head breaches his throat, and his brows twitch upward as he grows more and more desperate from just the small pleased hums you give him. With his cheeks red, and drool coating his chin, he lets out a whine before breathing deep before he leans up as far as he can and takes the toy all the way to the base.

To your amusement, he stays there for a moment, letting tears start to form in his eyes, before he nuzzles at your knuckles, firmly gripping the silicone cock buried in his throat. It makes you laugh, as your Puppy always manages to, and you lean down to offer him the small reward of your hand—loosely gripping his cock as you nod your permission to fuck up into it.

He pulls back as he thrusts into your grasp, allowing himself to gasp and moan at the feel of your palm. There’s no hesitation though, as there usually would be—no fucking your hand and forgetting that it is you’ve told him to do. No, Satoru is right back to work, fucking his throat on your toy, and with enough enthusiasm for you to reward him by tightening your grasp on him ever so slightly.

Choked moans escaping before they’re cut off by the loss of air, rolling blue eyes straining to focus on your appraising gaze above, and a pretty pink tip drooling just as much as his mouth as he sucks off your throat-warmed silicone—your Satoru performs and performs well.

It almost activates that mean streak in you, the one used to giving him actual punishment rather than tasks disguised as such, as you have tonight. Looking at him so subservient before you has the back of your neck tingling, your ego beckoning you to make him cry. Real tears, not just ones from having his throat bruised and battered with his enthusiastic sucking. But you’re nothing if not careful with your toys, especially ones as special as Satoru Gojo, so you only allow yourself to satiate your desires a little.

He expects it, welcomes it even, as you begin to jerk him off. It’s rough and fast, and he knows very well that you aren’t getting him so close to orgasm just to let him actually cum right away, but he does what he must and rides that wave. His thrusts are half-hearted, unable to keep up with the speed of your hand and his duty to gag on the toy before him at the same time, and his stomach twitches and lurches until you’re shoving the toy deep just as he clenches his thighs together in that tell-tale sign his balls are tightening.

So you let go, and hold the toy deep—stifling the moans and whines that would certainly result from having his orgasm ripped away from him like that. You hold it there, nestled deep, allowing him to thrust his leaking cock roughly into the air, watching as his brows furrow and quirk while his throat tenses and constricts as he tries his hardest to moan - but finds no air for such a thing. Tears are streaming down his cheeks, hips bucking so hard his cock slaps uselessly against his own stomach and his hands ball up into fists, eyes rolling back. Then you pull the dildo out of his mouth and take in his gasps and coughs and cries out for more.

“Please please please, I need it. I need it so bad…”

“Need what, Puppy?”

He bites his lip, cock throbbing, voice hoarse as he knows what his real answer is, and what the right answer is. His mind battles with itself a moment too long for your liking, then broadcasts the wrong decision as he just whines and humps the air.

You wipe at his tears, bringing the dildo back to his swollen lips. “I’ll give you a little more time to think then.”

His mistake has been made, because you forced him into it for just this once tonight, so he accepts it and opens his mouth wide, letting you slide the length of his faux-punishment back into place. It’s worked though, and you continue to fuck some obedience into his skilled throat as he takes it willingly, sliding his tongue along the underside of the unfeeling silicone, puckering his pretty lips into a kiss at the tip when you pull it out far enough just to shove it back in to the base.

“Good boy.”

His cock jumps hard enough to tap at his twitching stomach as he leans upwards as far as he can while staying on his knees, bringing his mouth to meet your movements and gag himself shamelessly. You reward him just as you had before, though with the intention of letting him have what he needs.

He practically shoves himself into your hand once he receives the first brush of your warm fingertips. The feel of you pumping him suddenly is so appreciated, and you grip him tightly with your long strokes to give him exactly what he’s earned. There’s no rebuilding the moment lost by the previous pause, as he’s sent right back to where he was quickly enough that his eyes rolling are the only sign you’re given before his cum spills across your floors as he bucks into your grasp.

Satoru can be relentless, so you brace yourself for more, but once he slumps down enough to separate his throat from the toy you remove it the rest of the way and allow him to choke out a sob. He moves just enough to fall forward and press his face flat to your stomach, showing you he’s done for with just that. His shoulders relax, though his breath is still shaky, and you feel the wetness from his tightly shut eyes soaking through the fabric of your shirt. You let him have his moment, slack jawed, cooing softly, shivering at the feel of your hands running through his hair.

There’s no urgency now, the moment will last as long as he needs it to, thanks to you.

banners by @adornedwithlight

[sangthael]

jimmy doesn’t practice knife safety

[vonkarma2]

ultimately my enjoyment is hampered because it is low key sexist bc it takes place in an alternate universe where Sigmund Freud is real. though I did still like it for the most part but I hate Sigmund Freudddd Utena better

[yoohyeon]

My goddaughter is 10 today, I again feel old 😭

[viderose]

he’s annoying, i don’t like him (he hasn’t given me as much attention lately)

[aideshou]

Woke up to this meme sent to me made by AA and he included AAA….

Do I even want to know?

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ INSPO

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist