#giant plush toy when

[sukunasweetheart]

Boyfriend kuna who has the pleasure of meeting your giant domesticated cat that looks exactly like him (but no one actually sees the resemblance except you..)

"That fucker is big. You sure it's not some wild feral cat?"

"Don't call him a fucker! And he's not feral... not anymore, at least."

Kittykuna seems indifferent to your cooing and doting as he remains in a loaf position, and something about the scene feels strangely familiar...

Kittykuna makes eye contact with sukuna - and then hisses.

"... i can see that he's certainly friendly."

"Oh, dont be like that. It took me ages to get close to him as well."

Kittykuna seems very protective of you. Whenever you're lounging about in the living room, he will curl up on your lap or in your arms, and make biscuits on your plush body while making eye contact with sukuna, purring. It mildly pisses him off, but he can't make it known that he's even remotely jealous of a cat.

They clash a lot, you often hear sukuna cursing under his breath and verbally chastising your cat, but their harmless beef and the way he will sometimes return with little scratches or bite marks on his arms make you laugh so hard. It takes a few weeks for them to warm up to each other.

It's very entertaining to watch kittykuna obscure sukuna's vision with his tail when he's lying down to watch tv. He takes his revenge later on by pretending to give him treats, only to hover it away from him. You have to intervene in the end, to scold him for teasing your cat too much.

Sukuna then comes up with a brilliant idea of getting a second cat.

"Don't you think it's a bit boring for him being alone in the house all the time?"

"Really? I don't know... he can be a bit territorial, I'm worried he won't get along with a new cat well."

"Never know 'til we try it."

And then, well, sukuna ends up bringing another cat home. Of course, you don't notice it, but she resembles you.

It takes time to properly and slowly introduce the new cat to your home and to kittykuna. They're both very cautious of each other at first. But you soon see the ice melting, with them gradually becoming comfortable enough to be in the same room, to sharing toys, eating meals together, and then finally beginning to groom each other.

In fact, you find that they soon become inseparable. You've never seen kittykuna become so clingy before. It's like every other day that you see him licking the other cat's fur in his arms, while it purrs contently with her eyes closed.

Sukuna seems proud of himself.

"What did i tell you? He was lonely."

"You didn't say lonely. You said bored," you correct him, crossing your arms.

"Whatever you say, princess."

Watching the cats be all lovey dovey makes him feel like doing the same...

Months later, it soon comes to your attention, that the newer kitty has gained a bit of weight. When you and sukuna take her to the vet (to kittykuna's displeasure) you find out that she is pregnant.

The gasp you let out is dramatic, and sukuna can only laugh as he shakes his head.

"The two of you have been up to naughty things while we weren't watching..." you tell the cats with your hands on your hips. You should've seen it coming, from the way kittykuna always seemed to mount the new cat possessively.

Though you are really excited to see the newborn kittens soon...

"Leave them be. In fact, don't you think they're good role models for us...?" Sukuna recites in your ear teasingly, deeply chuckling.

"I don't know what you mean..."

I suppose you're about to find out exactly what he means tonight...

[solxamber]

Overblot Gang + Rollo vs Plushies

Surely they're not jealous of a stuffed toy, right? ....right???

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle stepped into the room, exhaustion clinging to him like an unwelcome guest. It had been a day filled with chaos—Ace and Deuce were their usual disruptive selves, Heartslabyul’s hedgehogs had staged what could only be described as a minor rebellion, and the tea party had gone disastrously wrong when the tart supply mysteriously disappeared.

All Riddle wanted was to collapse into bed with you, the one person who made his world feel a little less upside-down.

But instead of finding you waiting to greet him, he found you fast asleep, curled up in the middle of the bed.

And clutching...a plushie.

Riddle froze, his hand still on the doorknob, his eyes narrowing at the offending object. It was a bunny plush, worn and clearly well-loved, nestled securely in your arms. Your cheek rested against its soft head, your lips slightly parted in a peaceful slumber.

For a moment, Riddle just stared. Then the tiniest flicker of jealousy ignited in his chest.

It’s just a stuffed toy, he told himself, but the longer he looked, the more irrational his thoughts became.

Why is it getting your affection while I’m here, alive, and far more deserving?

He shook his head, trying to dispel the ridiculous notion, but the sight of you snuggling the plushie like it was the most precious thing in the world made his face heat up.

“This is absurd,” he muttered under his breath, but his resolve only grew stronger.

Quietly, carefully, he crept closer to the bed, his eyes fixed on the plushie. His plan was simple: extract the bunny and take its place. Surely, you’d prefer your boyfriend over a stuffed toy.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the plushie’s soft fabric. Just as he began to tug it free, your eyes fluttered open.

“Riddle?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep.

Riddle froze like a thief caught in the act, his face turning as red as his hair. “You’re awake!”

“I am now,” you said, a teasing smile tugging at your lips as you noticed the bunny in his hand. “What are you doing?”

“I was—” He struggled to find a reasonable explanation, but his traitorous blush gave him away. “You were holding it so tightly, and I thought perhaps you’d be more comfortable with me instead.”

You blinked at him for a moment before breaking into a laugh, soft and warm. “Riddle Rosehearts, are you jealous of my plushie?”

“I most certainly am not!” he spluttered, though the way he avoided your gaze told a different story.

“You are!” you said, sitting up and holding the plushie close. “You’re jealous of Bunny!”

Riddle groaned, burying his face in his hands. “This is mortifying.”

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” you cooed, deliberately making it worse. “Riddle doesn’t understand how much you mean to me.”

“Give me that!” Riddle reached for the plushie again, but you held it just out of reach, giggling as he tried to maintain his dignity while grappling with a stuffed toy.

Finally, you relented, setting the plushie aside and wrapping your arms around him instead. “I’m just teasing. You know you’re my favorite, right?”

He sighed, leaning into your embrace despite his embarrassment. “I don’t know why I let myself get worked up over something so silly.”

“Because you’re adorable,” you said, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Riddle’s blush deepened, but this time, he didn’t try to hide it. “Just...promise me you won’t replace me with a toy.”

You grinned, cupping his face in your hands. “Never. You’re too cute to replace.”

And with that, you pulled him into a kiss, his earlier jealousy forgotten as he melted into your affection. The plushie sat abandoned at the foot of the bed, no match for the warmth and love you gave so freely to the one who truly deserved it.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona slammed the door to your shared room, the sound of it echoing through the space. His day had been one giant pile of nonsense—from an annoying meeting he didn’t even want to attend to Ruggie disappearing when he needed him to take his place. And let’s not even talk about that one random pigeon that had the audacity to poop on his shoulder during his walk back to the dorm.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your presence and the luxury of using you as his personal pillow while he finally got some peace.

But when he turned to the bed, his sharp emerald eyes caught sight of you curled up against something that was decidedly not him.

You were cuddling a lion plushie, of all things, as you read a book. The toy was tucked snugly in your arms, and every now and then, you absentmindedly stroked its mane while flipping the pages.

Leona froze, his ears twitching in irritation. What in the world is that thing doing in my spot?

You glanced up when you noticed him standing there, his face an unreadable mask of simmering annoyance. “Oh, hey, Leona,” you greeted cheerfully, holding up the plushie. “Look! Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier, and it reminded me of you.”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he crossed the room in a few swift strides, grabbed the plushie from your arms, and unceremoniously hurled it across the room. It landed with a pathetic little plop in the corner.

“Leona!” you exclaimed, half-shocked, half-amused. “What was that for?”

He flopped onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms with a huff. “That stupid toy’s been hogging my place all day,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck. “I don’t need competition in my own bed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, threading your fingers through his hair as he tangled himself around you like an oversized, grumpy cat. “Leona, it’s just a plushie. Are you seriously jealous of a stuffed animal?”

“I'm not jealous,” he muttered, tightening his grip around your waist. “I’m the only lion you need.”

“Aw, poor baby,” you teased, tilting his chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “Do you feel neglected? Should I make it up to you?”

Leona raised an eyebrow, though the corner of his lips twitched upward in a smirk. “Damn straight, you should. Start with those kisses you owe me.”

With a laugh, you leaned down and kissed him softly, your hands cradling his face. He hummed in satisfaction, his earlier annoyance melting away as you continued peppering his cheeks and forehead with affection.

“Better now?” you asked, grinning against his skin.

“Hmm,” he replied, sounding almost lazy, though his arms stayed firmly locked around you. “Still annoyed that you thought some stuffed toy was good enough to take my place, but I guess I’ll survive.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, shaking your head but snuggling closer to him.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Now shut up and get comfortable. You’re my pillow tonight.”

You didn’t mind one bit, letting him rest his head on your chest while you stroked his hair. The plushie in the corner could wait—your favorite lion was right where he belonged.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul walked into your shared room, exhaling a sigh that carried the weight of a long, exhausting day. Between renegotiating contracts with customers, juggling lounge finances, and—most harrowing of all—keeping Floyd and Jade from causing a full-blown diplomatic incident, he was done.

All he wanted now was the comfort of your embrace and the chance to leave the chaos of the Mostro Lounge behind.

But when he stepped into the room, his eyes landed on you sprawled on the bed.

You were curled up with an octopus plushie of all things, the game console in your hands forgotten as you absently squished the toy. It had an oddly familiar round head and floppy tentacles that dangled off the side of the bed.

Azul froze in the doorway, blinking at the scene in front of him. His sharp mind began firing off thoughts at record speed.

Is that... me? No, of course not. But you’re cuddling it. You’re smiling. Does it remind you of me?

He frowned as another realization hit him like a cold wave.

Am I... jealous of a goddamn plushie?

Clearing his throat, he stepped further into the room. “What’s this, my dear?” he asked, voice smooth but laced with suspicion.

You glanced up and beamed at him. “Oh! Welcome back, Azul!” You held up the plushie as if presenting a priceless artifact. “Isn’t this cute? I found it earlier and thought it looked a little like you.”

Azul’s composure faltered for a split second, his cheeks tinging pink. “You think an oversized toy resembles me?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, tilting your head innocently. “It’s an octopus. And it’s adorable.”

Azul adjusted his glasses, hiding his expression. “I see.” He hesitated before clearing his throat again. “It seems you’re quite attached to it.”

You hummed in agreement, giving the plushie another squeeze. “It’s so squishy and comforting to hold while I play.”

Azul’s eyebrow twitched. “Comforting, is it?”

He walked to the bed, sitting down beside you with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Darling, might I propose a trade?”

“A trade?” you repeated, trying not to laugh at how serious he looked.

“Yes,” he said smoothly. “That plushie for... well, anything you desire. Perhaps a free full course meal at the lounge? Or a favor of your choosing?”

You raised an eyebrow, setting down your console. “Are you trying to make a deal with me over a stuffed toy?”

Azul’s cheeks darkened. “Of course not. I simply thought you might prefer a more... meaningful source of comfort.”

It clicked, and a mischievous grin spread across your face. “Oh. Oh, I see what this is.”

“What are you implying?” he asked, straightening his tie even though it wasn’t out of place.

“You’re jealous of the plushie,” you said, leaning toward him with a teasing glint in your eyes.

Azul sputtered, adjusting his glasses again. “Jealous? Don’t be absurd. Why would I—”

“Aw, Azul,” you cooed, cutting him off as you set the plushie aside and wrapped your arms around his neck. “You should’ve just said you wanted to be my cuddle buddy. You’re my favorite octo-mer, after all.”

His ears flushed deeper as he tried to maintain his dignity. “Well, of course I am. There’s no need for comparison.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him down onto the bed and into the position the plushie had been occupying moments ago. You rested your head against his chest, a satisfied smile on your face. “Because this is way better than some squishy toy.”

Azul relaxed, his arms wrapping around you as a content sigh escaped his lips. “Naturally,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

From the corner of the room, the plushie sat forgotten. Azul glanced at it once and smirked. You’ll never take my place again.

Jamil Viper

Jamil shuffled down the dorm hallway, exhaustion radiating off him in waves. The day had been a whirlwind of chaos—cooking for Kalim’s impromptu banquet, mediating arguments between students, and narrowly avoiding another wild scheme involving magic carpets.

All he wanted was to collapse on the bed he shared with you. That you’d be there was just the cherry on top.

He pushed the door open, ready to greet you—only to stop dead in his tracks.

You were curled up on the bed, scrolling through your phone with a peaceful smile. But it wasn’t just you. No, you were wrapped snugly around a snake plushie.

Its long, noodle-like body coiled over your lap as you absently hugged it closer, your cheek pressing against its soft fabric.

Jamil’s eye twitched.

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, and stared at the scene with growing annoyance.

You look so happy... with a plushie.

“Hey, Jamil!” you greeted cheerfully, glancing up from your phone. “Welcome back. Long day?”

“Mm,” he hummed, walking toward the bed with a carefully neutral expression. He sat down stiffly at the edge, his back to you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, noticing his unusually curt demeanor.

“Fine,” he replied, voice clipped.

You frowned, putting your phone down. Wrapping your arms around his back, you rested your chin on his shoulder. “You sure? You seem… off.”

“I’m fine,” he said again, though his tone didn’t convince either of you.

You squinted at his turned profile, the faintest flush dusting his ears. He wasn’t looking at you—or, more specifically, at the snake plushie you still held loosely.

Then it clicked.

You smirked, leaning closer. “Wait a second. Are you… jealous of the plushie?”

His shoulders tensed, and he immediately scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Oh my gosh, you are jealous!” you teased, letting go of the plushie entirely to wrap yourself fully around him. “You hate my noodle friend, don’t you?”

Jamil turned slightly, just enough to glare half-heartedly at you. “It’s not— I don’t— It’s a toy,” he huffed, the flush on his face deepening.

“A very cute toy,” you said with a grin, nuzzling your cheek against his. “But not as cute as my boyfriend.”

Jamil stiffened as you started peppering kisses along his jawline. “Stop,” he mumbled weakly, his resolve clearly crumbling.

“Why?” you asked innocently, kissing the corner of his lips before moving to his neck. “You’re so much better than any plushie. You’re warm and handsome and smell nice…”

He finally cracked, turning to face you fully with an exasperated sigh. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Mm, but you love me anyway,” you said with a laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Jamil gave you a tired but affectionate look, letting himself melt into your embrace. “Maybe.”

You smiled, pulling him down onto the bed with you. As he settled into your arms, the plushie forgotten on the floor, you whispered, “You’ll always be my favorite noodle.”

He groaned, burying his face in your shoulder to hide his embarrassed grin. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”

“Never,” you said, pressing a kiss to his temple.

And Jamil, despite his protests, felt a sense of peace he hadn’t experienced all day.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil returned to his dorm room with a sigh of relief, the stress of the day clinging to him like stage makeup. The auditions, the photoshoots, and Epel’s ongoing refusal to use skincare—it had been a lot.

What he wanted now was simple: your company, your warmth, and the soothing routine of winding down together before bed.

However, when he stepped inside, his poised demeanor wavered.

You were curled up on the bed, a content smile on your face, snuggled tightly against a plushie—a soft, bunny-shaped one at that.

Vil froze, one hand still on the door handle.

It’s just a plushie, he told himself. A mere inanimate object.

But as he watched you absentmindedly rub your cheek against the bunny’s floppy ear, he felt… something.

Annoyance? At the plushie? Himself? You? He couldn’t even tell.

Brushing off the irrational jealousy bubbling in his chest, Vil set his things down and began his evening routine. He didn’t mention the plushie or the way it seemed to taunt him with its undeserved place in your arms.

You looked up with a warm smile. “Hey, Vil. How was your day?”

“Busy,” he replied smoothly, glancing your way briefly before focusing on his vanity.

“You want me to pin up your hair?” you offered, already starting to sit up, plushie still clutched in one hand.

“No need,” he said quickly, voice tighter than usual.

You blinked. That was unusual—Vil always let you (only you) help with his hair. But you shrugged it off, assuming he was just tired.

As Vil carefully applied his cleanser, the plushie caught his eye again in the mirror. It was still nestled against you, smugly enjoying the attention that should’ve been his.

Halfway through his routine, he finally snapped.

With a dramatic sigh, Vil spun around, crossed the room in three graceful strides, and plucked the bunny from your lap.

“Uh—?” you started, confused, but before you could say more, Vil replaced the plushie with himself, settling across your lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Vil?” you asked, biting back a laugh as his weight pressed you into the mattress.

“Not. A. Word,” he warned, narrowing his eyes at your amused expression. His cheeks were faintly pink, but he composed himself quickly, picking up where he left off with his skincare routine as though nothing had happened.

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

Vil’s hands faltered for a split second before he regained his composure. “I don’t need your commentary.”

“You’re totally jealous of the bunny,” you teased, leaning up to kiss his shoulder.

He clicked his tongue but didn’t deny it. Instead, he muttered, “Why would I feel jealous over a plushie?”

“Because you’re pouting,” you said, laughing softly.

Vil sighed, tilting his head slightly to look at you out of the corner of his eye. “I do not pout. And don’t think I’ll let you win this one.”

“Oh, I’ve already won,” you said, tightening your hold on him.

Vil shook his head, muttering something about your insufferable sense of humor, but his posture relaxed as he continued his routine.

By the time he finished, the plushie had been completely forgotten, replaced entirely by the warm, smug human wrapped around his waist.

Idia Shroud

Idia shuffled back to his room after the dorm leaders' meeting, grumbling under his breath about its sheer redundancy.

"Like they really needed me there. My tablet could've handled it. Heck, I could’ve sent Ortho in my place! It’s not like I’m ever the one making decisions… What’s the point of—"

His mumbling came to an abrupt halt as he stepped into his room and saw you on the bed.

You were curled up against a giant teddy bear, console still in hand, the screen long since dimmed. Soft snores escaped you as you nestled deeper into the plushie's arms, utterly at peace.

Idia froze, his face instantly heating up. "Wha—?! W-why is this so—?!" His hair sparked pink as he clutched his hoodie, feeling like he was going to short-circuit.

The sight was almost too much. You, looking so cute and peaceful, holding a teddy bear like it was some kind of rival stealing his spot.

He fumbled for his phone, hands shaking slightly as he snapped several photos. “For, uh, research. Totally normal behavior. Definitely not for my… secret stash.” His whisper echoed a bit too loudly in the silent room.

But now he was faced with a dilemma.

On one hand, you looked so cozy, and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb you. On the other hand… he wanted to be that teddy bear.

Idia stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, trying to decide what to do. He wrung his hands together, muttering to himself like a character weighing dialogue options.

"Option A: Let them sleep. Pros—cute and peaceful. Cons—no interaction.

Option B: Wake them up. Pros—I get attention. Cons—they might get mad."

Before he could settle on an answer, you stirred, stretching with a groggy yawn. Your eyes fluttered open, and you blinked at him standing there, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Idia?" you mumbled, setting the console aside. You gave the teddy bear one final pat before tossing it away and reaching out to him. "C’mere.”

His heart skipped a beat. “M-me?!”

“Obviously you,” you teased with a sleepy smile, pulling him into a hug as soon as he got close enough.

Idia practically melted into your arms, his hair shifting to a bright pink. His smugness quickly returned, though, as he realized the teddy bear had been successfully ousted. "H-heh. +1 affection point for me," he muttered under his breath, his voice a mix of pride and shyness.

You raised an eyebrow, laughing softly. “Affection point? Idia, you already maxed out your affection gauge ages ago.”

His brain short-circuited again, and he buried his face in your shoulder, muffling a squeaky, “D-don’t say stuff like that!”

“Why not?” you teased, leaning back to look at his glowing face. “You’re adorable when you blush.”

Idia groaned dramatically, his hair flaring brighter as he tried to hide behind his bangs. But despite his embarrassment, he managed to wrap his arms around you, pulling you closer.

“Fine, whatever. Just… don’t let go, okay?” he muttered, his voice soft.

You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Not a chance.”

From the corner of the room, the discarded teddy bear sat forgotten, a silent casualty in Idia’s victorious conquest for your affection.

Malleus Draconia

It had been a peaceful evening—stars twinkling, a cool breeze wafting through the window, and the promise of a lovely stroll under the moonlight. Malleus had been particularly pleased with the weather and decided to invite you for an evening walk.

He entered the room, his usual serene expression softening when his eyes fell upon you. But then, he froze.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon in your arms like it was the most comforting thing in the world.

A deep rumble echoed in the distance.

You blinked, sitting up slightly. “Was that… thunder?”

Before you could ponder further, a crack of lightning lit up the sky outside, followed by the booming roar of thunder that seemed to shake the walls. You stared out the window in disbelief.

“But it was perfectly clear two minutes ago!” you exclaimed.

Turning back to Malleus, you found him standing as still as a statue, his eyes narrowed and locked onto the offending plushie in your arms. The air around him practically crackled with energy.

“Uh… Malleus?” you ventured carefully, glancing between him and the plush.

His voice was low and serious, tinged with a hint of betrayal. “Is that what brings you comfort in my absence?”

You stared at him for a moment, then at the plushie, before the realization dawned. Suppressing a laugh, you decided to play along.

“Oh no, this?” you said, holding up the plush with exaggerated disdain. “This means nothing to me.”

Malleus arched a brow, clearly unconvinced, though his eyes remained laser-focused on the dragon-shaped invader.

To really drive the point home, you dramatically tossed the plush into the corner of the room. “See? It’s nothing compared to you, my most handsome, powerful dragon.”

You spread your arms and wrapped yourself around Malleus, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His stiff posture eased almost immediately, and the thunderstorm brewing outside dissipated as if it had never existed.

“Hmm,” he hummed, his voice quieter now but still holding a touch of haughtiness. “I suppose it’s only natural. I am your favorite dragon, after all.”

“You’re my only dragon,” you said with a chuckle, leaning back to look at him.

Malleus gazed down at you, his expression softening into something tender. “Good,” he murmured, placing a hand under your chin to tilt your face up. “I would hate to compete with a mere stuffed toy for your affection.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, you know that?”

He blinked, visibly startled by the compliment, his ears tinging slightly red. “Cute? I… I do not believe ‘cute’ is the word one typically uses to describe the future king of Briar Valley.”

“Well, I do,” you said, smiling mischievously as you planted another kiss on his lips.

Malleus let out a deep sigh, though the corners of his mouth quirked upward. “You are… quite the peculiar human, my love.”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you teased.

Malleus chuckled softly, pulling you closer. Outside, the weather had returned to the calm, moonlit serenity it was before—a perfect night for a walk. Though judging by the way Malleus held you now, neither of you seemed in any rush to leave.

Rollo Flamme

After a long day of dealing with incompetent council members, insufferable students, and the lingering stench of magic in the air, Rollo Flamme was finally free. As he walked into your shared room, his shoulders relaxed slightly at the thought of seeing you. Your presence was always the perfect antidote to his day’s irritations.

But then, he saw it.

There you were, curled up in bed, holding a plush dragon that was far too detailed for his liking. Its smug, embroidered eyes glinted in the soft light, as if mocking him. Worse, it was lounging on his side of the bed.

He froze mid-step, the betrayal hitting him like a thunderbolt.

You looked up, immediately noticing his stricken expression. “Rollo? Are you okay?”

He didn’t respond, his gaze locked on the plushie with such intensity it was a wonder it didn’t burst into flames.

You tilted your head, following his line of sight. “Oh, this?” you said, holding up the dragon plush with a smile. “I won it at the arcade today! Isn’t it cute?”

Glass shattering. Dramatic violins. Betrayal.

“...A dragon,” he said, his voice low and tight.

“Yeah,” you said, hugging it closer without realizing the depth of the offense. “It’s so soft, and look at its little wings! They’re kind of shiny—”

“Does it need wings?” he cut in sharply, glaring at the plush like it had personally insulted him.

You blinked. “Rollo, are you... mad at the plushie?”

He straightened immediately, huffing indignantly. “Mad? At a stuffed toy? Don’t be absurd.”

But the way his eyes flicked back to the plush betrayed him, the subtle narrowing of his gaze screaming volumes.

You couldn’t help it—you laughed. “Oh my gosh, you are mad! Is it because it’s a dragon? Does it remind you of Malleus?”

His jaw tightened. “I do not dignify such comparisons with a response.”

You grinned, setting the plush aside. “Well, if it bothers you so much, I can just put it away.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he lied, though his shoulders eased a fraction when you stood and picked up the plushie.

“I’ll banish it to the closet,” you teased, waving the dragon plush dramatically before stuffing it into the closet. “There, see? Gone.”

Rollo exhaled quietly, his usual stoic demeanor returning. “Good. It’s for the best.”

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his shoulder “You know you’re the only one I’d ever actually want to cuddle, right?”

His ears turned red, and he cleared his throat, but his arms instinctively came up to hold you close. “I would hope so,” he muttered, though his tone softened as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

As you snuggled against him, he allowed himself a moment of peace, though his mind wandered. He would have to get you something far superior—something elegant and tasteful. Perhaps a plush raven or something equally refined. Certainly nothing with wings or scales.

You smiled against his chest, feeling the tension leave his body. “You’re not still mad, are you?”

“No,” he said quickly. “But I’ll be... keeping an eye on your choice of arcade prizes in the future.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Whatever you say, Rollo.”

Deep down, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d won or lost this battle, but with your arms around him, he decided it didn’t really matter.

Masterlist

[thelurchinghound]

ftm reader getting fucked by two monsters shoving their knots deep in his little cunt whiile hes tied up and just takes it

[Request info] - [Navigation]

Gender: FTM reader

Kinks/Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con(?), knotting, DP (double penetration), Dacryphilia, Teratophilia, Words like cunt, pussy, clit, etc used for reader. Hinted at werewolf monsters but I left it vague.

A/n: BRUH, I love this request, again I left the monsters up to the reader but I was thinking of my werewolf pack ocs. It took a little longer than I thought it would but it's fine. Kinda rushed at the end!

| OC(s) used: Monroe & Quinn | Words: 453 | Proofread by @bunnyscone | NSFW |

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"There you go, baby boy."

Monroe forced his cock farther into your pussy, stretching it out even more. A groan slipped from his maw, his tongue darting out to lick at your perky nipples. A small cry leaving your lips from the intrusion in your pussy.

"Can you hurry it up?" Quinn growled out, his claws digging into your plush thigh skin. Small red lines form in the trail of them. His cock throbs with need against your thigh, a knot at the base of his cock already swelling up, and he hasn't even started fucking you yet.

"No, I'll take however long I want to savior our little guest here." Monroe quips back, glowering down at Quinn. The two beasts start bickering back and forth, all while you are unhurriedly thrust into by Monroe. They sounded like two brothers arguing over a toy. Quinn was lying under you, your back to his chest, Monroe above you, tugging at one of Quinn's pointy ears.

Each thrust was slow and gentle, a surprise for how big and burly the monster was. Monroe's giant clawed hands hold onto the ropes that had you tied up, unable to move. You could do nothing against Monroe's ministrations or when Quinn slid his hand down to your pussy. His thumb started to rub your sensitive bud while the bigger man still thrust into you. Quinn's other hand holds open your trembling thighs from his place under you, chuckling slightly when your back arches off him.

"You said that last time with the last human!" 

That exclamation only got an eye-roll from Monroe, his sharp claws drilling further into the plush skin of your thighs. An annoyed grunt coming from on top of you. "God, you are insufferable. Like a yapping chihuahua that won't shut up." 

After a few minutes of the two going back and forth arguing about fucking you, Monroe ultimately relents. "Fine, fine! Whatever!" He says in a rolling growl, moving to spread open your thighs for Quinn. The smaller beast positioned his cock right at your stretched entrance, though, unlike Monroe, he doesn't push in slowly. Like an excited pup, he thrusts himself in. You were already stretched from Monroe's cock, but now with both cocks inside your dripping cunt it felt like you could've been split open. Their knots pressed together as they started to thrust. At first, it was graceless, but gradually, they got a rhythm down. 

Their thrust started getting harder, knots slipping in with every push in and out. The cave around them filled with grunts and moans of pleasure as the two beasts ravaged your tight cunt. Until they finally spilled inside you, their fat knots locking their cum inside.

[adultbabystories]

"Did you think if he’s big guy, maybe he was big down there? Think again,” your boyfriend said, looking down at you, talking to a hot guy standing next to him, as you covered your face with shame.

“When you checked us out at the gym, I thought you were looking to hook up for a threesome. I’m sorry to disappoint, but this one is so bad at sex, and has such a little willy, I just locked it up in a chastity. There’s a reason I keep him in diapers,” he said.

You were lying there in just your diaper. The thought of having a threesome made you instantly horny. It’s been so long since you had sex, real sex, with men and not with giant plush toys. It made your tiny penis stiff in the cage, but now you were embarrassed, knowing that in a minute when Daddy opened your diaper, it would prove that he was right about your little willy.

“My boy is nervous, I can tell. Do you want to give him his pacifier, it helps to calm him down. Plus, he will take to his mouth everything a man gives him,” Daddy chuckled and elbowed the hot guy.

The handsome man took your giant red pacifier, and brought it to your lips, as you opened your mouth submissively, taking the rubber nipple in. His eyes were open wide and bright, then he smiled at Daddy.

You first saw him at the gym a few weeks ago. You switched looks with him, knowing nothing would become of it, you were daddy’s little cuck, but your horrniness got the better of you. You felt he was into you. The day the hot guy switched looks with you and Daddy, you thought maybe Daddy would allow it, seeing how much you enjoyed this new development. You were so far from the truth.

“My boy is such a sexy guy. People would think he has tons of sex and loves it. But not my boy. My boy loves to be in a thick diaper, sucking on his pacifier, holding his teddy, and listening to me having sex with other men hot as him. He may think he wants to have sex, but after I’m done fucking and coming to change his diaper, there are loads of precum all over his cage, waiting for me to wipe it clean. I think he is too shy to tell you, but he humps his giant teddy bear, trying to imitate his daddy,” Daddy said and winked at the handsome guy standing next to him. The guy’s bulge grew bigger under the gym’s shorts, just like Daddy’s was.

“I can’t wait to fuck you! Let me put him in plastic pants. His diaper change can wait,” Daddy said while licking his lips.

The pacifier felt huge in your mouth. The wet diaper was tight on your crotch. You were thinking about your teddy bear. How you wanted to hump your locked-up dick against it, while daddy is fucking the guy in the other room. Your mind was racing. You couldn’t think about anything else. You are a baby, and Daddy was right. -----------------------------

Big boys can be such big cucks! babycub98 is a great example. (Press on his nickname to go to his Twitter)

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

ft. gn!reader x anton ivanov, ben bigger, lighter, von lycaon, wise ; no applicable warnings! my first request (i tried to finish it before christmas in my timezone, but still, merry christmas to the anon who requested this :DD and to those reading!!) hehehhe i hope its good enough｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

anton ivanov

you cannot look me in the eye and tell me this man isn’t the type to yell “this is for you!” or “if i hit this you give me a kiss” and completely miss whatever target he’s supposed to hit. he hits it. sometimes. he still gets a kiss anyways.

[“dude” “we’re literally dating and you’ve placed your lips on mine do NOT call me dude.” “…babe”]

big on gift giving and words of affirmation in terms of love languages. he makes sure to put a lot of thought into whatever he gives to you to properly convey his appreciation and show just how much you mean to him.

"strong, sincere, and straightforward." he's definitely the type to encourage you to try new things especially when you're the type to get easily nervous. if you're scared of looking stupid, don't worry; he'll do it with you hand-in-hand so you can be stupid together. becomes your no. 1 hype man and would give you his honest opinions whenever you need ‘em.

you see or hear him talking to his jackhammer bro for the most mundane or random things and you've become used to it at this point. its honestly endearing (you're hopeless)

["bro do you think they'd still love me if i was a worm?" "vroom vroom vroom" “you think so?” “vroom” "yeah, you're right."]

ben bigger

scary bear privileges meaning no one wants to mess with you knowing that you're dating someone who cuts such an intimidating presence but you know better than them because ben would much rather use his paws to tap away at a calculator or spreadsheet than willingly get into fights.

on that note, he's most likely to be the best companion for grocery shopping; he'll know how to get all the good discounts and haggle for the best prices for sure.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 1. although he puts his fur care second, it's still soft and fuzzy to the touch and he likes that you appreciate the warmth it provides too.

since he struggles with some of his accounting responsibilities due to the size of his paws, sometimes you help him with sorting some of belobog industries' financial documents and eventually you end up finding the task quite relaxing after a while of doing it.

but, of course, he loves spending time with you outside of work. anything to take his mind off of the horrors of accounting. he'll mentally file away anything he learns about you when you're together for future purposes, may it be gift or date ideas.

he's the bear thiren between both of you, but in private he loves cuddling against you like you're some sort of plush toy. you don't mind. another win-win situation because you get to rest against him like a giant pillow as well.

lighter

he tries to be flirty with you and sometimes it works! but when you match his energy and it backfires on him he turns into a blushing mess who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

also the type to want to show off or act all suave. he has an image to keep as the undefeated champion! the red scarf! (he’s internally giggling and kicking his feet from one [1] cheek kiss you left in passing).

date nights with him sometimes consist of drives on his bike and stargazing at a nice little spot he found in blazewood. then halfway through, he’d get distracted from seeing the stars in your eyes and think that its a hundred times better than the real thing and fall in love all over again.

“gets as many challenges as love letters” but he makes sure that you and anyone who tries to make a move know that he only has eyes for you. could be in the form of having an arm around your waist or his jacket on you when you feel cold.

a physical touch and acts of service guy because. well. he did say he’d like to die for love one day. that’s a very romantic thing to say and do. also his heart still races whenever you hold his hand but he swears he’s getting used to it (he isn’t). probably melts when you gently run your fingers over his face or any of his scars

i honestly feel like he's one of those "me and my bae don't argue they just tell me to shut up and i do" types.

von lycaon

an ideal date for him would be a fancy dinner or picnic somewhere nice and discreet. complete with scented candles, your favorite flowers, and homecooked food (which probably tastes better than anything you've ever eaten at any restaurant). then at some point when both of you have finished eating and you're both in conversation, he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves a kiss on your knuckles.

["darling, your face is...concerningly red. are you feeling alright?" "i'm fine. i think."]

you WILL be receiving that prince/princess treatment (threat). breakfast in bed when he isn’t busy, spontaneous massages offered when you mention ONCE that you feel tired, and all that jazz. you probably will never have to open another door yourself with him around and he ALWAYS offers his arm for you to take when you're walking together.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 2. just prepare yourself for horrendous shedding as summer begins… but you don’t mind helping him brush through his fur (*´ω`*) its therapeutic and you’re one of the very few people he trusts with the task so its a win for both of you.

since he's a wolf thiren, he sometimes unwillingly attracts the attention of stray cats and dogs; he usually pays them no mind but it is somewhat of an inconvenience for him. however, the sight of you playing with them while quietly cooing eases some of his discomfort. seems like you aren't the only one suffering from cuteness aggression.

his guilty pleasure is squishing your cheeks in his hands. no i will not elaborate

wise

this is one of the random play managers we’re talking about, so. movie date nights are mandatory. both of you alternate when picking movies but sometimes you bicker over options like an old married couple just for the fun of it.

a lot more chill when it comes to PDA but he can be flirty when he wants to be. if he knows you have a weak spot for it, he uses it to his advantage to get what he wants. scheming little minx. /pos

words of affirmation and quality time guy, i think. since he's always so busy with managing the store and completing commissions alongside belle as proxies, he makes the most out of the time you guys can spend together alone. even if it's just laying in his bed or on the couch doing nothing together sometimes.

everyone and their mothers and grandmothers on sixth street will probably know that you’re dating or figure something out at some point even when both of you don’t really do much together in public/are trying to keep it on the low. never underestimate these aunties man

unfortunately for wise, he will become the target of teasing or nagging from belle when it comes to your relationship. once you get close enough she'll also share embarrassing stories from when they were younger or before you and wise started dating much to her brother’s chagrin.

secretly likes clinging and cuddling up to you like a koala. both of you are in bed? oh okay, don’t mind him, he’ll just scooch a bit and wrap his arms and legs around you, claiming that having you in his bed helps fix his insomnia (it does, to some degree). [“wise i can’t move.” “you don’t need to.”]

on the days you help out with tasks in random play, you could quite literally just be standing while doing something and then you’ll feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist from behind as he leans his head on one of your shoulders with a quiet, satisfied sigh.

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 2)

You try not to linger too much on the way they were acting. They seemed fine, really, they did, and you were just nervous, you knew that. It was just mindless anxiety that made you flinch quietly when they approached a little too much as they gave you a tour around their house.

They were being relatively quiet, their voices in a low volume as mostly John Price, the dragon, introduced each part of their house to you. You all walked with you on the middle, as John was walking in front of you and the other three behing you, Johnny a little bit more to the side.

You didn't really notice, not with how you were keeping your eyes mostly at the ground and at the dragon's back, but the three other hybrids had their eyes glued to your small form. Small little thing, that walked so slow. Since John was in front of the group, he had a bit more space to walk, even if he was going slower for you. But for the three who were slightly behind? They were almost just shuffling along so they could keep following you and still keep a respectful distance.

Johnny was clearly getting antsy as they walked. He's a werewolf, that, like dragons, are a very... touchy species. Especially with their pups. And you're just so slow, so cute, so small... he really wanted to touch you. To pick you up and carry you in strong and big arms that would certainly keep a small, soft thing like you warm. And now, he can't avoid paying attention on the fact that you seen to be wearing just a light jacket, and it's cold outside. Well, not to him, but he knows humans, he knows they get cold so easily......

"Control yourself, Tav." Before he could even process, sharp talons were pulling him back as Gaz hissed quietly in his ear, holding his arm firmly. "She's not used to us yet." "I knae, i knae..." Johhny breathed in quietly, trying to compose himself. "Just... such a wee thing..."

You look back for a second, just to see the two big hybrids whispering to eachother. Before you could even try and pay attention to what they were saying, John called your attention back to him. "And this, sweetheart, is your new room."

You nod quietly at that, still a little unsure. John smiled gently at your hesitance, opening a white door at the end of the hallway they were walking on. That makes you frown a little. What kind of kid's room is the last one on the hallway? That's usually the parents room, from your experience.

Still, you couldn't avoid widening your eyes a bit at the sight of the bedroom. Their house was big, that much was obvious (they must have had a hundred children or something), so the room being big wasn't exactly a... surprise. Still, were all rooms in hybrid houses like this?

The room was spacious, big like the rest of the house, but also... very heavily padded. The bedroom floor had soft thick carpet while the rest of the house had wooden floors. At the middle of the room, it had some kind of weird blankets and pillows nest, caved inside the floor. Still, it had a single lonely bed to the side, a cute little bed that looked like it couldn't fit any of the hybrid men.

The bed was pilled with a lot of blankets and pillows, just like the nest. Very fluffy looking, and even had a small metal fance at the side that wasn't against the wall, padded, of course, that made you think that it could have only come from their kids' toddler years or something.

There were a lot of toys tucked inside toy boxes to the side, that were by a giant closet. Some of the plushies were around the room, inside the weird nest at the middle and close to the bed, all soft plush animals. The only two windows had metal bars on them, and were covered by long curtains.

The colors of the room were heavily leaning into pastel tones, like pastel pink, pastel purple, pastel yellow, pastel blue, pastel green and white. It all looked so... childish, but... confortable too.... It looked confortable, safe, clean. It was very clean. This room looked like something out of a movie or something.

So that's why all you could do was stay still as you stared inside the room, a bit stunned. It was just by John's gentle nudge, one that still made you flinch a bit as you felt a heavy, scaily tail touch your back, that you finally stepped inside.

"This was some of our children's room when they were younger." John explained gently, leaning against the door as the others also tried (and failed) to look smooth as they leaned forward by Price's body to watch you inside. "I hope it's okay?"

"A-ah, it's... good..." You mumble quietly, still looking around the room.

Kyle's wings ruffled at your small, meak voice, eyes foucused on you like a damn eagle. Simon leaned a bit more inside the room, silent, a big scary presence. John cleaned his throat a little as he noticed how shy that was making you.

"We're gonna leave you to unpack. If you need us for anything, you just need to call, okay, sweetheart?"

You nodded quietly, still standing in the middle of the room with uncertainty. John smiled gently once again before pushing the others back with his tail and closing the door. You pretended not to hear rushed whispers as soon as the door was closed, foucusing more on putting your backpack under the bed safely.

The bed that... looked so inviting, and so fluff, and it smelled so clean too...

And in a second, you were out like a light, curled in a small little ball on the bed, sleeping over the confortable covers.

[konigsblog]

ORLA! how do we feel about könig with nipple piercings? 👀

I could see König having nipple piercings. He got them while in his early twenties. Didn't bother removing them for the military considering they weren't visible and causing any problems. That's why you were caught off guard and taken by surprise after catching a glimpse of his nipple piercings. König finds it entertaining and enticing when you play with them, tug at them while bouncing on his swollen, girthy cock, swallowing every inch with your sticky, gummy walls.

It wouldn't surprise me if he enjoyed having his nipples sucked. Not only is he into sucking your little stiff buds, but having his own toyed with is more than enjoyable for the sick, perverted giant. Run your tongue over his perky, hard nipple and across the cold metal piercing, he'll struggle to hold it together, and is likely to come in his boxers at the satisfying, intense feeling.

König would adore a reader with piercings as well. Something a little extra to spice it up. He'll toy with your little nipples 24/7, his hand cupping the soft and plush flesh, slowly rolling his calloused and scarred thumbs over the coldness of the piercings, earning himself a wince when you tugs them a little too hard. He'll suck them all the time, even if it isn't sexual. He just enjoys the sensation of having something in his warm mouth. (Probably has an oral fixation...)

[ericshoney]

Toys! ~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: When Nick, Matt and Chris are filming their video with the kids toys, their little sister Y/n couldn't help but join in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were happily playing outside with Trevor whilst you heard your three older brothers shouting in the kitchen. You being the curious five year old you were, wandered back inside to see what the identical trio were up too.

"Hey bub, look what we go." Chris said, as he saw you sneak in.

Your eyes then lit up upon seeing all the toys, a few catching your attention straight away, especially the lamb.

"Woah!" You exclaimed, seeing all of them, instantly grabbing the lamb.

"Careful, kid." Matt said, watching you climb up to sit at the island.

"You wanna film with us?" Nick suggested.

"Sure!" You cheered.

They laughed as they got everything set up. You sat on Chris' lap as he was sat in the middle seat, trying to make sure you don't grab everything, but he had trouble himself.

Nick introduced the video, explaining it was his and Matt's idea, as Chris didn't have a clue. He also introduced you as well.

"Want that." You mumbled, pointing to the lamb.

"We'll get to it bub." Nick said.

You watched as Matt then pulled out a giant egg. He opened it and you saw a large unicorn plush. You gasped softly, feeling how soft it was.

"Well we know that's got a seal of approval." Matt said with a giggle.

You watched as they talked through everything, showing the camera and rating how good the toy was. You held onto the unicorn the whole time, until Snowy the lamb arrived.

"Now we know Y/n is very excited about this one." Nick said, watching Matt rip the box open.

You smiled wide as he got it out and turned it on. You let out a small squeal as it started to walk.

"I don't like it." Chris mentioned.

"You don't have too." Nick responded.

"I like it!" You cheered.

"We're glad bub." Matt said.

You pet the head of the lamb, giggling as it responds. Your brothers smiled seeing you happy about the toys.

The video continued on, none of the other toys really caught your attention as you still held onto the unicorn plush tightly. Soon, the guys had finished showing everything they got.

"Well that's it for today. Thanks for watching a bunch of twenty year old guys play with kids toys, with our special guest! Don't forget to like and subscribe!"

Nick then went to turn the camera off as Chris gently put you down on the floor, letting you run off and play with your new toys.

"Well I'm glad we've made her day." Matt said, smiling as he heard your giggles.

"Yeah, but that lamb is gonna piss me off." Chris muttered, hearing the noises from the toy.

"She's happy you dumb shit, let her be." Nick responded.

The three laughed as you squealed and ran past with the lamb dragging behind you as you chased Trevor. They knew you were chaotic, but happy, which made them smile.

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

A Very Merry Tsum-mas (Part One)

Happy holidays everyone! ♡ Here's a cute and silly tsum fic I wanted to write, featuring some of my friend's favorite characters (and mine lol ♡) Enjoy! ♡

Winter was here on Sage's Island, the sky cloudy as snow began to fall. It was the first snow of the season, slowly covering Night Raven College in a blanket of white. Students counted down the days until winter break, looking forward to going home. While the holidays were fast approaching, Night Raven didn't seem to be in the holiday spirit, no lights or decorations hung on campus. Not even a tree, the courtyard an empty field of snow...

One day before winter break, a giant plush tree falls from the sky, landing in the courtyard. The tree is decorated in holiday lights and plush ornaments, with a toy star sitting on top. Under the tree were gifts, wrapped in cute paper representing each dorm. What were the gifts, you ask? Why, they were tsums! Dressed in winter clothes and ready to spread some holiday joy ♡

Since there wasn't enough gifts for everyone, Azul tsum had the bright idea to make it an auction, giving the lucky students of Night Raven the opportunity to bid on each one! The bidding will start at ten thaumarks, with the first gift being wrapped in... Noble Bell College themed paper...?

Let the auction begin! ♡

AUCTION ONE: ROLLO TSUM

Inside the gift wrapped in Noble Bell College themed paper lays Rollo tsum, nestled in a bundle of flowers. The tsum wasn't sure how he got here, wrapped up and auctioned at some event at NRC. The same auction that Malleus Draconia tsum was apart of, at that... At least you had won though, the tsum making his displeasure of the others known as he leaves.

Time spent with him will be in Fleur City, visiting the holiday market. The market has various vendors, selling different foods and trinkets from all around Twisted Wonderland. Once it grows dark, the tsum takes you on a walk, showing you the lights on display.

His gift to you is a flower, one that reminds him of you whenever he sees it. He gives you clear instructions on how to care for it, as well as a pot to put it in. The pot is beautifully made, created by one of the many craftsman in Fleur City. It's even your favorite color, the tsum picking it out with you in mind.

The rest of your time is spent with the real Rollo, his tsum having duties he needed to attend to. You couldn't help but wonder though... could this be another gift from him? ♡

AUCTION TWO: JAMIL TSUM

The second auction featured a gift wrapped in Scarabia themed paper, Jamil tsum sitting inside it. He gives Azul tsum an unamused look as he gets out of the festive tissue paper, tipping over the box in his haste. While he doesn't approve of the auction, he was thankful that you won, silently looking forward to spending the holidays together.

Time spent with him will be in the Scalding Sands, visiting his family in Silk City. Najma tsum greets you when you get there, leading you to the Asim estate (where a holiday party is being held). The party is grand, filled with various foods and games. A dance floor sits at the center, with a large tree tucked in the corner, filled to the brim with gifts.

While Kalim tsum was there, your focus was on Jamil tsum, staying by his side the whole night. You had fun trying different foods he would recommend, competing with him at various games, and laughing with him on the dance floor. Time flew by as you had fun, the night ending with guests exchanging gifts.

His gift to you is hair accessories, similar to his own. Hair ties, hair bands, feather clips, and more. Each of them was handmade and beautifully crafted, with one of them even having a snake made out of gems on it. It reminded you so much of the real Jamil, running into him as you were leaving.

He seemed as surprised as you were, looking at his tsum with suspicion as the tsum gestured for him to look up. He looks and stares in disbelief before glaring back at his tsum, silently wondering if this was the emergency Kalim was talking about...

...And where did this mistletoe come from?! ♡

AUCTION THREE: ...AZUL TSUM?

The third auction featured a gift wrapped in Octavinelle themed paper, opening it to find... a piece of paper? Azul tsum seemed surprised by this, joining you as you stared in confusion. Opening the paper you found Azul tsum's name written on it, the tsum looking between you and the piece of paper in shock. Muffled laughter could be heard as some of the gifts began to shake, Azul tsum turning in it's direction. His eyes narrowed as he stared under the tree, the shaking gifts clearly Floyd and Jade tsum, amused by the situation...

This wasn't supposed to happen! He has an event to run, after all! But rules are rules, and you won the bid, so he has to honor it... Azul tsum shakes his head as he gets back to where he was, having you stay by his side until all the auctions were done.

Time spent with him will be in the Mostro Lounge, alongside Jade and Floyd tsum. While the others left for winter break, they remained at NRC, unable to return home due to frozen waters. He catches up on his business, planning out new items and marketing strategies with your input. He has you try foods he was considering for the menu, wanting your opinion on each dish (and having Floyd tsum prepare them).

Not all your time is spent in the Lounge though, Azul tsum taking you to different cafes and restaurants in town (to scope out the competition). While you're in town, he realizes he's been focusing too much on work and not on you, bringing you to a holiday market set up nearby. He paid close attention to the items that caught your eye, keeping them in mind to purchase later. At the market you notice an antique pen, thinking how the real Azul would enjoy it. You purchase it to give to him for the holidays, leaving with a few more gifts in hand for the real Jade and Floyd.

Azul tsum gifts you the items you liked at the market, along with a necklace, made of sea shells and fish bones. The necklace was beautifully crafted, with each shell and bone being a different size. Each item on the necklace was found in the Coral Sea and selected with care, custom made (just for you).

The real Azul was shocked to see you wearing it the next day, wondering how you got a hold of his gift so soon (and if you knew what it meant...) ♡

Part two will be coming tomorrow! ♡

Thank you! ♡

Tagging: @crystallizsch, @anbaisai, @cheerleaderman, @viperbunnies, @0honeybones0

@fell-e, @jovieinramshackle, @oya-oya-okay

[ddejavvu]

Steve Harrington getting you a stuffed toy just as a present, because he is a gentleman and a good boy and is really in love with you. But then as he comes to just hang out with you at yours, he accidentally spots you on top of his plush toy he got you, and sees you riding it. And his poor jaw nearly drops off his face

this post is 18+, minors dni.

listen that dude stuck the stuffed animal in his car. his car that smells overwhelmingly of his cologne. He sat that thing on the back seat and it was over for you, the fur of the stuffed animal smells like him forever. the thing is, it's a big stuffed animal. like he barely fit it in the backseat of his car. so when you cuddle up to it at night and try sleeping, you're inhaling his scent while simultaneously being pressed up against this massive figure. it.. does not take you long to figure out how to proceed.

and you feel dirty, grinding on this stuffed animal, but if you close your eyes and inhale it smells just like steve, and you find that the fur of the stuffed animal comes in handy for muffling your moans.

it just so happens that your moans can't be completely silenced, so when steve treks up the stairs to your bedroom and you're too engrossed in chasing your orgasm that you don't hear him, he walks into your room and hears exactly what you're trying to keep quiet.

he sees your hips rutting desperately against the giant stuffed animal, your panties soaked with a wet spot from the slick you've smothered the fabric in. You're burying your face desperately against the stuffed animal, just the way you do against steve's chest, and he's all-too-familiar with the moans that are steadily flowing from your slick, parted lips.

"Steve, Stevie-nngh! Ah, Steve," You pant, hips bucking relentlessly, but in vain, against the disappointingly soft stuffed animal. You're in search of friction, but you can't seem to find it against the stuffed softness of the toy.

Really, steve thinks he'd be cruel not to help you out. He moves swiftly, throwing a knee up onto your bed and lining his hips up behind you, a steady bulge growing in his pants from the long while he'd spent watching you without your knowledge. His weight crushes you and he lets it, barely holding any of it with his own arms. His nose hits the back of your neck and he inhales just as you'd done with the stuffed animal, smelling your perfume and sweat alike.

You scream when you feel his hands take hold of your hips but when you register that it's your boyfriend, your terror turns to shame.

"Steve," You cry, still crushed beneath his weight, "I- I'm sorry, I-"

"Don't be sorry," He speaks lowly, grunting slightly as he experimentally humps the friction of his jeans over your ass, rubbing tantalizingly close to your sensitive, aching cunt, "Put your head down again, baby. It'll keep you quiet."

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Shockwave’s Pet Human

No particular Shockwave in mind (maybe a mix between G1, TFP, and IDW?)

Sequel to How to Share Your Pet! I might do more stories following this universe/idea/au/whatever in the future

AFAB gender neutral reader, sub reader, dom Shockwave, racially ambiguous, fingering, brat taming, pet play, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, size difference, thigh fucking

Shockwave’s cold metal digits parted your ass giving the mech a good visual on your dripping arousal. He had you on your hands and knees presenting to him like an animal in heat. At this point you should be used to your partner’s love to embarrass you but you still felt so vulnerable with your most delicate body parts open to his scrutinizing optic.

“Lift your hips,” Shockwave ordered in an even and calm tone.

You did as you were told arching your back so your hips lifted towards his directions. Goosebumps rose to your skin with a body encompassing shiver when you heard the satisfied rev of his engine.

“Your arousal is evident,” Shockwave said his optic trained on how your hole pulsed. “I might assume you’ve been fantasizing about this while doing your work.” You could feel the cylindrical shape of his gun servo slip under your hips to help support your body.

“I planned on moving you up to the next sized toy today,” Shockwave said. His finials twitched in amusement when he saw your head perk up. “But I do not believe that your human anatomy could handle any further training let alone my spike.” You could feel the taunt in his voice. He wanted to see you pout and cry that yes you can take his spike! Yes you can handle bigger toys in your tight pussy!

“Shockwave-“ you groaned wiggling your hips back to show your eagerness. Shockwave’s grip only tightened, his entire servo engulfing your hip and your side. “Can you really prove to me that your valve can handle my size?” Shockwave let his thumb run down your weeping cunt gathering the slickness you’ve accumulated to rub over your clit. The high pitched whine you made caused steam to swish out of his vents.

Shockwave leaned back to account for his chasis as his optic readjusted taking in the erotic scene before him. You were so small compared to him. So small and so vulnerable under his servo. His little human toy he gets to ruin. Your soft, plush flesh dipping under the weight of his servo, the way your stomach folded around his canon. The scientist finally let his spike release from behind his modesty plate, the hissing noise releasing into the air made you subconsciously push your rear further up. Shockwave let his heavy spike flop onto your ass, his transfluid leaking down the small of your back.

His plating was almost scalding burning with desire to finally spike you but not yet. Your fragile human form would tear if he tried to bully his aching spike into your all but too welcoming hole.

Shockwave pulled his hips back letting his spike drag between your spread cheeks before pressing the tip against your cunt.

You wanted to cry you were so desperate to have him inside you. Your poor pussy lonely without having Shockwave stuffed inside.

“Your heart rate has increased.” His cold, clinical tone making you whine in an emotion somewhere between desperation and embarrassment. The tip of his spike was practically the same size as your pussy. You could feel him from your clit to your desperate hole. “It would seem you’re as desperate for this as I am.” Shockwave slid his spike along your slick cunt. “Your arousal is very audible.” He gave a harsh thrust running his spike over your cunt with a wet clicking noise.

“Shockwave,” you moaned looking at your giant lover from over your shoulder. “Please! Please let me take you!” Shockwave released his hold on your hips while gently sliding his canon out from under you. You whined losing the feeling of his servos on you but your frustration would only be furthered when he pulled his spike away from you dripping folds.

Shockwave felt his spark thrum at the frustrated whine you made, his optic ogling at the trail of slick you left on the head of his spike.

“You know I am unable to penetrate you yet.”

You heard the heavy fall of his pedes as they carried him over to the cabinet you knew far too well.

“We will move up in size since you seem so eager.”

You followed the sound of his footsteps as he came back plopping something heavy behind you. You could feel the chilled silicone rubbing against your thigh. The head of the toy leaning against your anus when you pushed your hips back to sandwich the phallus between the lips of your cunt. While the motion didn’t bring you the stimulation you desired it was enough to satiate you for the time being.

“Show me how much progress you have made since our training started.”

Finally!

You pushed your body forward lifting your butt up into the air to make room for your what you were about to do. You peaked through your legs reaching your hand towards the fake spike then stopped when you saw Shockwave slowly teasing his digits over the tip of his spike. His transfluids smeared over the glistening purple metal just begging for your tongue to help clean it up.

With a quick flip of your body you changed your position so you were facing your robotic lover. His finials moved and his optic shifted taken aback by your sudden movement. While he didn’t order you to face him he was still curious as to what you planned to do and so he let you continue. He slowed his motions over his spike wanting to wait until you had found a position to fuck the spike into you with.

Then it clicked in his processor. You scooted on your knees to the edge of his berth taking the dildo with you. Your eyes trained hungrily on his leaking spike like you’d die without a drop of his transfluid. Shockwave felt almost satisfied seeing you so well trained as his desperate slut but you needed to prove yourself first.

He moved his spike out of your reach when he saw your greedy little hands move to touch him. The whine that came from your throat almost pulled a chuckle out of the scientist but he kept his cool.

“Prove to me our training has been worthwhile and I will give you your treat.” He exasperated the last word with a firm pump to his spike. Your mouth watered in anticipation.

“I’ll be good.”

“You always are.”

You felt your heart and soul melt into a puddle of romantic pinks and reds. You grabbed the fake spike angling it towards your dripping hole as you made room for its massive size by lifting your body up on your knees.

“Don’t be impatient,” Shockwave scolded stopping you from moving any further by pressing his canon against where you held the dildo. “You need to prep yourself or you risk tearing your perineum.” You huff so desperate to be filled that you forgot one of the steps Shockwave insisted on.

You fell back onto your rear letting the toy fall to its side so Shockwave could have a better view of your fingers against your glistening vulva. You slide your index and middle finger down your slit before pulling them back up letting them frame your arousal on their way back. A shaky exvent could be heard from Shockwave. While many would consider him in this moment still cold and emotionally detached you knew how excited he was just from the shaky flow of air he let out through his vents.

“I can’t wait until you can be inside of me,” you moaned rubbing your clit for Shockwave’s enjoyment. His optic was trained on your fingers. There was something so erotic to him about watching you finger yourself.

“Neither can I.”

“I bet you’d stretch me to my limits.”

You pushed two of your fingers in your hole. A shiver ran down your body finally feeling relief to your whorish desperation. Your fingers plunged in and out of you with slick noises that Shockwave was all too familiar with.

“If I were to penetrate you without training you first, there is a high probability at both internal and external injury.”

“You’d tear me in half.”

You quickened your fingers rubbing them along the top part of your vaginal wall. The ribbed texture of your g-spot slid gracefully under your fingers with the help of your slick.

You nearly jumped when Shockwave slammed his servo and canon onto the metal berth. His chasis pointed down while his optic was trained on your form.

“Continue.”

You returned to slipping your fingers in and out of your pussy. Shockwave’s optic bore into your soul while you stared back. Your lips were slightly parted in a pant as sweat rose to your skin. Your body felt incredibly hot from not only your current activity but also from Shockwave’s engrossed gaze on you.

He was absolutely enamored with you.

“Add another finger,” Shockwave ordered.

“Why don’t you work me open yourself?”

While your assessment seemed logical and while Shockwave would agree that him fingering you would stretch you out faster and therefore be the most logical corse of action, your disobedience wouldn’t do.

“I thought I had trained you better than this.”

A chill ran up your spine at Shockwave’s tone. His optic narrowing in on you. You were feeling bratty and impatient and Shockwave knew that all too well. He had done such a good job at training you to be so obedient and here you were talking back to him.

“I didn’t mean-“

“If that’s what you want then so be it.”

The air was knocked out of you when Shockwave’s canon pinned you in place by your stomach. You could only let out a soft “oof!” At the heavy weight of his canon arm. His other servo came up, three of his digits pressed against your weeping cunt.

“Your body should be well acclimated to three of my digits by now,” Shockwave said his optic casting a yellow glow over your body.

His digits breached your hole in a tight stretch. You arched your back to the best of your ability with Shockwave’s canon atop your stomach. His robotic fingers filling you gave you some much needed relief but you could still feel the stinging from the sheer girth of three of his digits.

Once Shockwave had sunk his digits down to the middle joint, he pulled them back only to slam them back inside of you. The pace he set was ferocious, your poor pussy squelching loudly against his rhythms. Your juices leaked around his purple plating making the mech scoff.

“You enjoy this too much.”

Shockwave continued his finials twitching forward at the broken and pathetic sounds you emitted. As much as Shockwave loved having you as his obedient pet he also couldn’t help but find enjoyment indulging in reminding you just whose toy you were.

“You are close to an overload,” Shockwave stated flatly. “If you overload without my permission there will be consequences.”

You bit your lip and curled your toes trying to hold in your orgasm. “I’m sorry!” You cried squirming trying to keep the fluttering feeling in your pussy at bay.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Shockwave started. “Yet.”

Shockwave’s canon pressed further against your stomach forcing you to feel the bulge of his fingers going in and out of your poor pussy.

Juices coated your inner thighs like a glaze of lust. Shockwave only exasperated your state by using his thumb to circle your clit. His three fingers curling and squirming inside of you.

You couldn’t do it.

It hit you like a train. Your whole body jolted up as you came. Your legs shivered and your mouth made a perfect O shape with your eyebrows thrown up. Your fingers clawed at his canon trying to grip yourself to reality as he continued fingering your sopping cunt.

“It seems you are incapable of following orders,” Shockwave mocked. His digits continued their ministrations through your orgasm. Electric jolts of pleasure tormented your lower body all the way to your toes.

“I believe a punishment is due.” Shockwave finally pulled out his fingers giving your pussy a break. He slowly slid them out letting a string of your slick still connect his servo to your cunt before breaking the string and presenting you with your mess. “First you will need to clean up my servo.” Shockwave ran his digits along your lips until you opened your mouth to lick at them and suck your cum off his metal plating. “Then I will use your holes however I see fit for the rest of the recharge cycle.”

You whined feeling your slick leaking between your folds. You grabbed Shockwave’s servo with your hands trying to get a better angle to lick your own cum off of his digits. A low hum of approval emitted from Shockwave. You looked up at your Cybertronian lover through your top eyelashes. Your eyes big, wet, and pleasing.

“Cease that,” Shockwave ordered shoving one of his digits into your mouth until he could feel you gag. “Your pleading will not change my decision. On your knees.” Shockwave pulled his digit from your mouth and removed his canon from your stomach. You sat up sitting on your knees with your legs folded under you and your hands neatly resting on your lap.

Shockwave grabbed the fake spike in his servo. It was so funny how small the massive dildo looked in his hand when it was practically the size of your thigh. He pushed the tapered tip of the toy against your lips. You looked up at Shockwave pleadingly making sure to keep your mouth shut. You didn’t want to suck on a damn toy you wanted his spike!

“Open,” Shockwave ordered.

Much to his pleasure you relented letting your plush lips wrap around the tip of the toy. Shockwave’s engine rumbled at the sight. Your pretty eyes looking at him so innocently while sucking on the end of a fake cock. He pushed the toy further and further into your mouth until he could hear you start to gag. Your throat hitched at the silicone intrusion then was granted relief as Shockwave pulled the toy back.

You stayed sitting with your hands stacked neatly on your lap. Sitting so obediently on your knees like the good pet you were. Shockwave noted this feeling pleased that you were being so well behaved despite your earlier bratiness.

Shockwave slid the toy back into your mouth feeling his spike throb at the sound of you choking before pulling it back out once again. He kept a steady rhythm fucking the toy into your mouth. You drooled around the toy, strings of saliva cascading down your chin. You didn’t do anything to wipe away your drool since Shockwave hadn’t ordered you to. He could feel his spark swelling with adoration at your behavior. How could he have found such a good pet?

Shockwave then pulled the toy out of your mouth for a final time, thoroughly enjoying how you chased after it with your mouth.

“On your back, pet,” Shockwave commanded.

You eagerly changed position so you were laying on your back with your knees bent and your legs spread. Shockwave’s optic narrowed in on your drooling cunt. The way your hole pulsed begging to be filled. He fantasized for a moment that it was his spike filling you.

Shockwave shook himself out of his fantasy and lined up the drool coated toy with your needy hole. Your breath hitched excited to finally have the relief you’ve been craving.

He inserted the toy excruciatingly slow. Your vulva spreading to make room for the massive toy. The stretch made you wince and moan out. You arched your back pulling your thighs in closer to your body trying to make as much room as possible for Shockwave’s servo.

“Very good,” Shockwave said barely above a whisper. You held the backs of your thighs with your hands. Pleased with how you presented your needy pussy, Shockwave pushed the toy as deep as it could go into you. You cried out feeling stretched beyond belief.

You tried to hold your hips down to keep yourself from humping the toy without Shockwave’s direction first. He noticed how your hips twitched ever so slightly and he couldn’t help but torment you by keeping the toy burrowed yet still within your hole. The only noises within the room were the sounds of Shockwave’s whirring internal fans and your soft panting. You stayed still for what felt like forever just holding your thighs open while spread out on your back with Shockwave simply observing you.

“Beg,” Shockwave demanded while pulling the toy out of you then slamming it back into you with enough force to push your body. You cried out clenching around the toy as it bullied its way back into your cunt.

“Please! Shockwave please fuck me!” You wailed unabashedly.

“I am still unconvinced,” Shockwave responded while keeping the toy still within you once again.

“Please, Shockwave! Please! I want to be your toy!” You pant while humping the toy trying to recreate that delicious friction. “I’m nothing but a hole for you to use! Please, please, please!”

Your begging caved into whining as Shockwave set a ruthless pace with the toy. Your hole squelched around the dildo as the silicone base slapped against your cunt.

“I didn’t tell you to stop begging, pet,” Shockwave scolded while giving your poor pussy a couple harsh thrusts with the toy.

“Thank you! Thank you Shockwave for fucking me!” You moaned out while arching your hips upwards. Your arms were sprawled behind your head trying to grab onto whatever you could find on the berth. Shockwave shoved his canon arm under your hips lifting your lower body into the air as he pumped the dildo inside of your needy cunt with the same precision he was known for in battle.

“While I do appreciate your gratitude,” Shockwave started as his optic was trained on where your folds parted to allow the silicone intrusion. “That is not begging. I ordered you to beg.”

You whined tears coming to your eyes from the intense pleasure your robotic lover bestowed upon you. “I’ll do anything!” You moaned out with your head tilted back. “I’ll do anything you want! Please keep fucking me!”

You gasped feeling your lower body drop back down onto the berth. Using his canon arm, Shockwave supported his weight above you as he slapped his heated spike over your body. His servo abandoned the dildo within you and instead grabbed your hip in a bruising grip. He slid his spike down your pelvis letting you feel the bumps of his yellow biolights down your vulva.

“My beautiful, pet,” Shockwave groaned letting the thrust of his spike against your pussy push the toy back into you. You grabbed onto his servo with one hand and his canon with the other as you moved your hips in time with his. His pink transfluid leaked onto your body covering your pelvis in the glowing fluid. Shockwave’s unblinking optic remained trained on your face and all of your blissed out expressions.

Every thrust of his spike through your drooling folds pushed the dildo back into you. You grabbed the tip of Shockwave’s spike rubbing the leaking head with every push he gave against your cunt. Your clit rubbed against the metal texture aiding in bringing you further towards your own release.

“I have never felt such a wet valve before,” Shockwave’s voice held a glitch to it. “You have become my perfect plaything.”

You moaned out his name arching your hips into his spike. You could feel that chord in your stomach tightening with every thrust against your body Shockwave gave you. Your vision was blurred with tears of pleasure as Shockwave’s optic bore into you. His intense love for staring you down only made you wail his name as you came around the toy. Shockwave’s finials moved forward invested in the sounds of your orgasm. However despite the way you twitched and squirmed underneath the metal behemoth, he did nothing to slow down his thrusts. Your clit felt raw with every shove of his spike and your hole felt thoroughly stretched out and abused by the toy.

“It’s too much!” You cried grabbing onto Shockwave’s spike like a life line. You wrapped your hands and thighs around him as he continued his thrusting. “You will refrain from complaining until I am finished,” Shockwave scolded.

His thrusts grew erratic as you wriggled against his throbbing spike. He locked your form as it was deep into his memory banks for later use. With one last thrust, Shockwave shot his overload over top your torso coating you in the glowing pink transfluid he leaked.

Shockwave’s fans were working overtime to cool off his systems. In the meantime he stroked your face with his servo marveling at how beautiful his pet looked after a successful play session. Your arms flopped to your sides as you kept your thighs squished around his spike. “So good,” you whimpered feeling the toy slowly slip out of you with a loud squelch from your hole. “You have indeed performed well,” Shockwave praised while continuing to stroke your face. “I will initiate after care and clean up protocols.”

[kiwiikato]

mommy’s here // ken sato x reader

Chapter Eleven

masterlist

note! hi everyone, im really sorry for the long, and i mean, LONG waiting time. motivation comes and goes for me and i'm really sorry you were all at the end of that stick. this chapters not that long but i hope you guys can forgive the wait. thank you to all the comments who waited and send me good wishes. i'll try to update soon again ♡

"come on, stand up, we have to measure you." a soft voice spoke out, their words gentle as they ushered the giant baby kaiju to stand up fully. "and analyze, your entire genetic makeup." mina added, trying to explain the situation as best as she could to the scared kaiju.

the baby kaiju whined, scared still of professor sato, seeing him as a stranger. you turned to see that ken had finally woken up, taking a small nap on the couch earlier from the emotional stress.

even though he wasn't the baby kaiju's biological father, it was clear as night and day that he had found himself growing closer to the baby, emotionally claiming it as his own. the same in fact could be said for you.

"what are you doing?" ken let out a yawn as he spoke, rubbing his eyes as he went to stand to the right of you. his dad turned around, quickly but softly responding. "we need to examine her so that we can plan a training regimen to protect emi from predators."

your eyes widened a bit hearing the name, not being able to hold back a smile at the love story professor sato had told you countless times. you heard kenji stutter, his words almost caught in the back of his throat. "emi? what? huh? you named her after mom?" he asked, his tone confused but slightly affectionate hearing his mothers name.

"i think she would approve." professor sato spoke, his voice holding a sweetness to it, almost like a smile was behind it. he looked down, reaching into his bag on the side and pulled out the same colorful bunny that helped the baby kaiju, now known as emi, stay calm when fixing her dislocated arm.

"okay emi, stand up nice and tall!" he happily spoke as he raised the toy up. you watched as kenji's face dropped, almost in a slight shock. "oh my god, my dad is a kaiju whisperer." you turned to see emi get up with ease, her red scales shining against the laugh of the underground lair as she chirped excitedly.

"yeah but you're a kaiju dad, that's even more shocking." you joke with him, instinctively moving to the sides and hitting your hips with his own, making him chuckle. "well that makes you a kaiju mother." you smiled at his response. "i know, i know." your voice holding a vulnerable emotion at the sentiments you had found yourself growing for emi.

you turned to your left, watching mr. sato's voice turning serious for a second. "mina, please prepare to insert the micro tracking device." he said as mina floated closer to emi. in an instant, his voice changed back to being soft. "emi, can you do like bunny?"

he held the bunny up again, stretching out their plush right arm to be up. emi chirped as she adorably held out her hand, her beady eyes full of curiosity. mina watched as she pulled out an injector, naturally floating to emi, who looked a little fearful.

mina injected her quickly, offering her words of reassurance. "good girl!" it was always sweet to see the twos interactions. emi looked up, enjoying the lack of pain from the tracking injection.

you and kenji watched in awe, taking in how mina listened to professor sato with ease. the urge to snap a photo gnawing at you, but you resisted. "mina, treat, please." mr. sato asked politely as mina gave him a pink donut.

emi saw it, walking closer in joy at the sweet treat. "and before we eat, we always say, 'itadakimasu!'"he says excitedly. emi walked closer, until she suddenly stopped. her cheeks puffed up, making you and kenji back away instinctively.

"professor sato, i believe that emi is experiencing a bit of nausea from the medicine." mina said, as she floated away too. the sight would have made you laugh if it wasn't for your concentration on not being barfed on.

"uh, dad, step away. seriously." kenji said as he grabbed your hand, pulling you with him. "professor, i really think you should step away." you said concerned at his stubbornness.

"oh she's fine! itadaki—" professor sato was cut off as emi's nausea finally caught up to her, she vomited, sending mr. sato flying as his back hit the wall. "—masu." he said in shock.

you watched as his glasses slid from his face, his body completely soaked. your mouth gaped open at shock at how far he flew. it was quiet for a second till you heard emi slightly giggle, he chirps ringing through the room. you couldn't help but to snort and laugh with her, trying to stop yourself from laughing at kenji's dad who laid there helpless.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ (each paragraph is a compilation scene in the movie)

"get back here right now, missy!" kenji yelled out in his ultra form as you fought to pick her up with your ultra form. your hands scrambled around, making the both of you spin. emi ran away from the both of you, making you both lunge at her, only to trip in unison and give up as you both laid there.

you now suddenly sat on the couch, watching the tv. kenji hands fumbled the ball, making it slip out of his hands as he struggled to pick it up. "that's another loss for the giants, making it six in a row." the commentator said as the giants coach watched with a straight face.

kenji sat on the toilet reading the newspaper, jumping slightly at the door slamming open. emi peered inside, chirping for him but was quickly pulled away by your ultra form as kenji slammed the door shut. his one second of peace was quickly ended when mr. sato walked in without a shirt a towel around his waist, slamming the door open. he casually walked in like he owned the place as kenji yelled into the newspaper in annoyance.

you stood in your ultra form as you grabbed emi, helping her put on her arm floaties. professor sato stood pointing at a chalkboard, showing three steps. "1) swim. 2) catch. 3) eat." each one with an adorable drawing of emi doing those steps.

you watched in fear as you watched emi sink down in the water from the lair. your hands pulling at your hair as you moved to go into the ocean. only stopping when you saw kenji in his ultra form diving down and quickly swimming to get her.

you ran on a giant treadmill of sorts, with emi behind you. a blue holographic image in front of you of three cute fishies to entice emi's motivation to catch the fishes.

kenji sat hunched over on the table, his head on the palm of his hands. he looked up to see his dad come to him, holding a cooked container of noodles. he set it down gently, making sure he ate. he left as you came in holding a blanket. you gently placed it over his body, making sure he was warm. you smiled, placing a kiss on his lips before walking away with kenji smiling.

emi held the familiar giant blue baseball bat as she copied kenji's swings. she swung, practicing her form to hit baseballs much better than the last. now kenji stood, helping one of his teams members. he fixed their hand placement on the ball and then did a swinging motion once again. the member copied him, smiling at his hit.

professor happily read an book to emi, kenji, and you and he copied the ultraman poses. he made laser sounds, jumping up in joy. it now showed ami reading a cartoon ultraman picture book as her daughter peered over, excitedly beaming at the photos.

kenji stood focused as he hit the baseball with a loud slam. the crowed cheered for him, jumping with excitement as the roared in excitement. emi cutely posed as she put on her water floaties, quickly cutting to her being held in ultramans arms as he guided her swimming, while chasing fishes. he pushed her forward, emi swimming in small pushes as she caught a fish in her mouth.

a holographic city showed as KDF jets chased after the four of you. emi ran following you as you ran by her side. kenji ran with professor sato on his back, making you laugh at the strained emotion kenji had.

the games commentator spoke up. "climbing back into contention, the giants are just one game out of first place!" kenji bat swung forward hitting the ball that came flying at him. his teammates cheered out as they jumped from the benches.

ami's voice spoke. "the giants are really coming together, thanks to a more mature ken sato." she said as they showed ken talking with his teammates, everyone focusing on him, showing respect to one another.

emi jumped up from the holographic training, a laser beam shooting out of her mouth, hitting the fake jets and making them explode. you jumped up in your ultra form, picking her up and hugging her for the progress she's made.

"we're going to the playoffs! sato's home run clinches a playoff spot for the giants!" the commentator yelled as ken gave his teammates high fives and smiles, making his way down to the locker rooms.

"i don't know what's happening with sato, but something has changed for the better. not only is he shining on the field, but he had brought this team together." ami spoke as it showed sato laying down hugging you in his ultra form. you held emi in your arms, as professor sato laid on emi's head, the four of you lulling to sleep.

TAGLIST - CLOSED

@ilovemyhusbandaaravos @miffysoo @ldykir4 @chaoticotaku @channit @shingsoluvely @m00nd0v3 @mixvchelle @ifharbingerbad--whyhot @dreamayy @justanotherkpopstanlol @bat1212 @angelitadiaz @snowbusiness @witcwitchy @mizzowizzo @buggs-1 @mmeerraa @everywonuu @nevermorekisses @f1uveryysblog @t4naiis @stxrrielle @ixqiix @arrozyfrijoles23 @sincerest-one @imsimping4life @sassy-cat-in-town @jack-of-all-trades-696 @flutterfly365 @eternalgoddessofart @hulyenl @leabrainrot @sunmigs @m3q3kic @lynbubble @leviannx @call-me-nyxx @gurofushi @ya-boi-v @im-sidney @haitani-zoe @mtheooo @chreiiii @secretlyapartofthisfandom @greenmanshoe @badbishsblog @reallysparklychaos @deimmortales99 @ashsallyblue2 @matchalatte06 @random-3455 @reivelmin @jennyfernan @solatiiium @liliabrary @maxi-ride @22carolina08 @coffetears @vyxnn-xage

[cruel-seduction]

His Personal Plaything

Content Warning: This story contains explicit sexual content, including themes of degradation, humiliation, and non-consensual situations involving exhibitionism. It features power dynamics and may include descriptions of acts that some readers may find disturbing or triggering. Reader discretion is advised.

Summary - You haven't paid rent for more than a month now, and you are two broke to pay rent. So when your roommate suggests an idea it is too tempting to decline.

The tension in the small apartment was thick as Ethan leaned back in his chair, his eyes cold and calculating as he stared at you. You could feel the weight of your joblessness, the eviction notice looming over your head, and the guilt gnawing at your insides. You hadn’t been able to pay rent for two months now, and you knew you were out of options.

"So, what are you going to do?" Ethan asked, his voice low, almost mocking.

You swallowed hard, your hands wringing in your lap as you shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "I... I’ll do anything," you whispered, the words barely audible, but they hung in the air like a noose tightening around your throat. "I just can’t afford it right now. Please."

His lips curled into a smirk, and you hated how it made your stomach twist, a mixture of fear and something darker you didn’t want to name. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied you with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“Anything?” Ethan asked, drawing out the word slowly, his gaze darkening.

You nodded, feeling the desperation clawing at your chest. "Yes... anything."

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Well," he said, his tone casual, almost as if he were discussing the weather, "how about this—I’ll forget about the rent for as long as you want. In return, you’ll be my personal little slut. You won’t have to pay a single dollar, but I get to use you whenever and however I want."

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as the meaning of his words sank in. He leaned back again, watching you closely, his smirk widening as he waited for your reaction.

“I’m talking about free use,” Ethan continued, his voice dripping with amusement. "You’ll be my plaything, available to me whenever I feel like it. Watching a movie? I’ll fuck you. Cleaning the house? You better be ready when I come up behind you. Doesn’t matter what you're doing—you belong to me." He paused, letting the weight of his proposition settle in. "So, what do you say? Rent-free, in exchange for being my little whore."

There was a pause, the air thick with anticipation. You should’ve hesitated, should’ve felt disgusted, but the words came out of your mouth almost instantly.

"Yes," you said, your voice trembling. "I’ll do it."

As soon as the words left your mouth, Ethan's grin grew darker, more sinister. He reached down, gripping your chin tightly, forcing you to look up at him. His touch was rough, the pressure of his fingers bruising your skin.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the mocking praise sending a wave of humiliation through you. “I knew you’d see things my way. You’re going to make me proud, aren’t you? My little slut.”

You bit your lip, nodding slightly, already feeling your cheeks burn with a mixture of embarrassment and something else that you weren’t ready to confront.

****

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows on the walls. You stood nervously in front of Ethan, the plush toy—a giant teddy bear—sitting innocently on the floor, its beady eyes watching you like a silent witness to what was about to unfold.

Ethan leaned back against the edge of the bed, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he studied you. “You know what I want you to do,” he said, his voice smooth and commanding, sending a shiver down your spine.

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. “I-I don’t know if I can,” you stammered, the words barely escaping your lips.

“Stop pretending,” he said, his tone low and mocking. “You love this. You want to be my good girl, don’t you?”

You hesitated for a moment, the embarrassment washing over you, but deep down, a thrill of excitement surged through your veins. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, a desperate need awakening within you. Nodding slowly, you began to peel off your clothes, the fabric sliding against your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

Ethan watched intently, his eyes darkening with desire as you stripped away your barriers. You tossed aside your shirt, exposing your bare skin to the cool air, and then slipped out of your pants, revealing the lace of your panties. The rush of vulnerability surged through you, a mix of exhilaration and apprehension as you stood before him, fully exposed.

“Good girl,” he purred, his voice dripping with condescension. “Now, get on your knees and grind on that toy like the little slut you are.”

You sank to your knees, the soft carpet cushioning your skin, but all you could think about was the plush toy waiting in front of you. The giant teddy bear seemed to loom larger than life, its fuzzy exterior inviting yet intimidating.

As you pressed your body against it, you felt a rush of heat enveloping you. You began to move, your hips rolling in slow, deliberate circles as you ground against the soft surface. The sensation was intoxicating, and you let out a small whimper, your body responding eagerly to the friction.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Ethan taunted, crossing his arms as he leaned closer, his voice laced with mockery. “I thought you wanted to please me. Show me how much you want it.”

You bit your lip, desperation clawing at you as you pushed yourself harder against the toy. You moved your hips in deeper, more frantic motions, letting out soft moans that filled the otherwise quiet room. The sound of your breathing mixed with the plush toy’s gentle resistance sent waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“That’s it, my little slut,” he continued, his voice a smooth whisper that made your heart race. “You’re nothing but a plaything for me. Look at you, humping that bear like a desperate little girl. How pathetic.”

Each degrading word stung, yet it fueled the fire within you, igniting a twisted sense of pleasure. You could feel your body responding to his words, your core tightening with each thrust.

“Do you feel good?” he asked, his eyes locked on you with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“Yes,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you pushed harder against the toy, your breaths becoming more ragged. “I love it. I love being your toy.”

“Good,” he replied, his smirk widening. “Now give that bear a good show. I want to hear you. I want to know how much of a little slut you can be.”

With his encouragement, you lost yourself in the moment. You ground harder, the plush toy becoming your only focus. Your body moved rhythmically, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure coursing through you. You could feel your cheeks flush, the humiliation mixing with overwhelming pleasure, turning your thoughts hazy.

“Look at you, getting off on a stupid teddy bear,” Ethan continued, his voice dripping with condescension. “You really are just a pathetic little slut, aren’t you?”

You nodded, the words flowing from your lips without hesitation. “Yes, I am. I’m your pathetic little slut.”

As you continued to move, the sound of your wetness filled the air, mixing with your desperate whimpers. The plush toy pressed against your core felt heavenly, and you couldn’t help but chase that high, pushing your body against it even harder.

“Come on, don’t hold back,” Ethan urged, his voice thick with lust. “Let everyone know how much you’re enjoying this. Moan for me.”

Your body responded to his command, and you couldn’t stop the loud, desperate cries that escaped your lips. You felt alive, your senses heightened, every thrust against the bear pushing you closer to the edge.

As you moved, you could see Ethan’s gaze glued to you, an undeniable sense of power radiating from him. The thrill of being completely exposed and degraded made you feel more alive than ever, and you let yourself fall deeper into the sensation.

“Now, make that bear your best friend,” he taunted, his voice low and sultry. “Show me just how much you need this.”

You lost yourself in the rhythm, grinding harder and moaning louder, the world outside fading away. The humiliation only heightened your pleasure, and as you pushed yourself to the limit, your body began to unravel, pleasure exploding within you as you found release.

You collapsed onto the toy, panting and breathless, your body trembling from the intensity of it all. Ethan’s laughter filled the room, and though you felt embarrassed, the rush of satisfaction lingered in the air.

“Good girl,” he murmured, his voice smooth and soothing, as he watched you with pride.

As you caught your breath, Ethan’s gaze was sharp, his interest piqued further as he leaned in, enjoying the sight of you sprawled on the floor, flushed and vulnerable. “You know, I think we can take this up a notch,” he said, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Stand up,” he commanded, his voice firm. You scrambled to obey, your heart pounding in your chest as you felt his intense gaze on you. You could feel the fabric of your lacy panties and the remnants of your clothes clinging to your skin, a reminder of how exposed you truly were.

“Now,” he said, taking a step closer, “I want you to touch yourself. Show me how much you want this.”

The words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of embarrassment and excitement flooding your senses. You hesitated for a moment, but the urgency in his eyes compelled you to comply. With shaky hands, you reached up to your breasts, fingers brushing against the soft fabric of your bra before you squeezed them, your skin warming under your touch.

“Harder,” he instructed, his tone laced with authority. “I want to see you enjoy it.”

You obeyed, your fingers pressing down more firmly, pinching your nipples through the fabric. A soft moan escaped your lips, the sensation causing heat to bloom in your core. The pleasure mixed with humiliation as you felt his eyes scrutinising every move you made.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and approving. “Now, take off your bra. I want to see you bare for me.”

With a swift motion, you pulled the straps down and tossed the bra aside, your breasts exposed to him. The cool air brushed against your skin, heightening your senses as you instinctively cupped your breasts again, the weight of them feeling deliciously heavy in your palms.

Ethan took a step back, his gaze travelling over your body, appraising you like a piece of art. “I want you to pose for me,” he said, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Kneel down and arch your back, showing off that pretty body of yours. And don’t forget to squeeze those tits for me.”

You sank back onto your knees, the carpet pressing into your skin, and arched your back, pushing your breasts forward. You squeezed them gently, feeling the warmth of your own skin beneath your fingers. The combination of vulnerability and desire ignited a fire within you.

“Perfect,” Ethan said, pulling out his phone. “Now hold that pose while I take some pictures.”

You watched him through your lashes, feeling both exposed and empowered by his gaze. As he snapped photos, you could hear the shutter click, each sound echoing in the room, marking your submission. The humiliation intensified as you imagined what those pictures would reveal.

“Let’s make this a little more fun,” he said, scrolling through the images he’d just taken. “I want you to crawl on all fours now. You’re going to beg for permission before you can do anything else.”

You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks, but the thrill of the challenge pushed you to comply. Slowly, you lowered yourself onto all fours, your heart racing as the carpet brushed against your palms and knees. You could feel the cool air against your skin, and the sensation was electrifying.

“Please, Ethan,” you said, your voice a soft whimper, “may I do something?”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. “Not yet. You need to show me just how much you want it. I want you to grind against the floor, like you were with that toy. Show me what you can do.”

With a deep breath, you began to move, your hips rolling against the ground in slow, deliberate motions. Each grind sent waves of pleasure through your body, igniting your senses as you let the sensations take over. The humiliation of the position only fueled your desire, the pleasure mixing with the degradation in a heady mix.

“Look at you,” Ethan mocked, his voice dripping with condescension. “Such a little whore, begging for it on the floor. How pathetic.”

Your breath hitched at his words, the degradation washing over you in waves, intensifying the pleasure you felt. You pushed your hips down harder, grinding against the carpet, and moans escaped your lips, echoing in the quiet room.

“Now, let’s take some more pictures,” Ethan said, snapping more shots as you moved. “I want everyone to see just how desperate you are for this.”

The thought of him sharing these images made your cheeks burn with embarrassment, but the thrill only heightened your arousal. You felt alive, exposed, and completely his. Each sound, every click of the camera, made you acutely aware of your submission.

“Now,” he said, stepping closer again, “tell me how much you need this.”

“I need it so badly,” you replied, your voice trembling with desire. “Please, Ethan. I need you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice smooth and sultry. “You’re mine to use, and you’re going to remember that.”

With that, you sank deeper into the sensations, your body responding eagerly to his words, ready to submit completely to his every command.

***

The next day you woke up, last night activities still fresh in your mind, heat pooled down your pussy but you shrugged that thought off and when you looked at the door you saw Ethan leaned against the doorframe, a playful smirk on his face as he watched you. The sunlight streamed through the open balcony doors, casting a warm glow that heightened your awareness of every inch of your skin. You could feel your heart racing, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through your veins.

“Let’s make this interesting,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Why don’t you change out there, on the balcony? Where everyone can see you?”

Your breath hitched in your throat, a rush of heat flushing your cheeks at the thought. “Are you serious?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“Absolutely. Put on something that shows off that pretty body of yours. Something revealing.” His eyes sparkled with mischief, igniting a thrill deep within you.

Nervously, you turned to your wardrobe, your hands shaking slightly as you rummaged through your clothes. Finally, you settled on a lacy, sheer top that left little to the imagination and a tiny skirt that barely covered anything at all. As you slipped off your shirt, the cool air brushed against your bare skin, amplifying every sensation. You could feel Ethan's intense gaze on you, the way it roamed over your body, igniting a fire within.

“Come on, don’t be shy. I want to see you in it,” he encouraged, his tone thick with anticipation.

With a shaky breath, you pulled the sheer top over your head, the fabric clinging to your curves like a lover’s caress. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror—a mix of vulnerability and excitement radiating from your reflection.

“Now the skirt, and bra” Ethan urged, his voice a command that made your pulse quicken.

With trembling fingers, you unzipped your shorts, letting them fall to the floor. The anticipation of being exposed sent shivers down your spine. You stepped into the skirt, its fabric sliding over your hips, and unhooked your bra slowly taking it off and took a deep breath as you stepped out onto the balcony.

The sunlight enveloped you, and you felt a rush of exhilaration and vulnerability as you turned to face Ethan. He stood just inside, framed by the doorway, a king watching his obedient subject. “Now, bend over,” he commanded, his voice firm yet laced with something more—a promise of pleasure and humiliation.

Your heart raced, and a thrill of anxiety mixed with excitement washed over you. “Out here?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

“Exactly. Let them see how obedient you are. Call out for me, let them know who you belong to,” he replied, his smirk widening.

With your heart pounding, you leaned over the railing, exposing yourself to the world beyond. The rush of fresh air against your skin heightened your senses, making your cheeks flush with both embarrassment and exhilaration. You could almost hear the distant sounds of life below, and the thought of being watched sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

“Louder,” Ethan urged, stepping closer, his eyes never leaving your form. “I want them to hear you. Tell me how much you need this.”

“Please, Ethan,” you called out, your voice trembling with a mixture of shame and need. “I need you. Please use me.

You knelt before Ethan, your heart pounding in your chest, the air thick with tension and expectation. His eyes were locked on you, a mix of lust and amusement playing on his face as you hesitated for just a moment, nerves fluttering in your stomach.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Ethan taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re already down there so why don’t you use your mouth for a better purpose .”

With the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, you felt a surge of humiliation wash over you, pushing you to action. You leaned forward, your palms resting on his thighs, feeling the heat radiating from his body. You could sense the openness of the balcony behind you, the thrill of potential onlookers adding to the intoxicating mixture of fear and desire.

As you unbuttoned Ethan's jeans, the sound echoed in the quiet afternoon air, making your heart race even faster. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet there was a strange thrill in it. The zipper slid down, and you hesitated for a heartbeat before pulling his jeans and boxers down, revealing him completely.

Ethan’s cock stood hard and ready, and you couldn’t help but swallow hard at the sight. You leaned closer, your breath brushing against him, the warmth of your mouth enticing and inviting. Ethan smirked, leaning back slightly, clearly enjoying the show.

“Just like that,” he encouraged, his voice low and commanding. “Take your time. Show me how much you want this.”

You nodded slightly, opening your mouth and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you took him in, the taste of him filling your mouth. It felt overwhelming, and the mixture of precum and desire made you moan softly around him.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Ethan groaned, his hands finding their way to your hair, fingers tangling in your locks as he guided you further down his length. You closed your eyes, focusing on the sensation of him filling your mouth, the pressure building as you tried to accommodate him.

The sounds of the street below drifted into your awareness, adding to the thrill of the moment. The thought that anyone could see you made your cheeks flush with heat, amplifying your submission.

“Let’s see how well you can take it,” Ethan taunted, thrusting his hips slightly, pushing deeper into your mouth. You fought the urge to gag, focusing on your breathing, trying to relax as he slid further down your throat.

“No talking,” he interjected, his tone firm yet dripping with desire. “Just keep going. I want to see you enjoy this.”

With that, you surrendered to the moment, focusing on the rhythm of your movements. You started to bob your head, taking him in deeper, feeling the pressure build in your throat. The sounds of Ethan’s moans filled the air, and the sight of his pleasure made your stomach twist with a mix of embarrassment and excitement.

“God, you’re amazing,” he groaned, thrusting his hips slightly as he encouraged you to take more. “You’ve got no idea how hot you look right now.”

You could feel yourself blushing even harder at his praise, the thrill of being used only adding to the sensations coursing through your body. You pushed yourself harder, your tongue swirling around him as you took him deeper, each movement fueled by the desire to please him.

“Just a little more,” Ethan urged, his voice thick with lust. “I want to see you really take it.”

You nodded, determination fueling you as you pushed yourself to your limits. As you sank down further, you felt the familiar sting of tears prick at your eyes, but the rush of adrenaline only spurred you on. You wanted to please him, to give in completely to the humiliation and power play that consumed the room.

With a final thrust, Ethan buried himself deep in your mouth, groaning loudly as you felt him pulse against your tongue. You held your breath, fighting the urge to pull back as he let go, the heat of him spilling into your mouth.

“Fuck, yes,” he breathed, watching you with a mix of satisfaction and dominance. “You’re incredible.”

You pulled back slowly, gasping for air, your heart racing from the mix of humiliation and exhilaration. As you looked up at him, his expression was one of complete satisfaction, and in that moment, you knew you’d just crossed another line into submission. And this was just the beginning. 

[beenbaanbuun]

fingers w/ yunho

i wrote this in like 20 minutes bc it’s yunho and i’m horny thinking about him…

words - you know the drill

genre - smut

warnings - finger sucking, dom!yunho, sub!reader, oral (m! receiving), clit play, ignorance kink??? if that’s a thing… , soft!yunho, yunho calls reader pup…

suddenly thinking about sucking yunho’s fingers…

like imagine you’re just sitting between his thighs with two of his long fingers between your plush lips, pressing down on your tongue

you don’t know how you ended up in the position, but it’s one you find yourself in very often

yunho’s admitted more than once that he just likes the dominance of it all

the fact that it’s barely sexual and yet somehow at the same time it is

he lets you rest you head on his thigh like a dog looking at its owner

and you can’t help but look at him in the same way - eyes wide and sparkling like yunho holds the keys to the universe itself

and yet he never pays a single ounce of attention to you

there’s always a film playing in the background or something and for some reason his eyes always remain trained on the screen

but just the chance that he might pay you the slightest bit of mind is enough to send you into a dizzy haze

one that has you desperate to impress as you suckle on his fingers gently, not even moving an inch despite the fact that your knees are starting to ache

you always make sure to behave like a good girl just in case he looks at you

and every so often he changes it up and slowly fucks his fingers in and out of your mouth

they hit the back of your throat to make you gag before he pulls them out almost completely

sometimes he likes to pull your jaw open so you’re just sitting there with an open mouth and your tongue gently lapping at his fingertips

really, it’s nothing special and it never lasts long, but it’s enough to remind you of your place - on your knees and ready to be used

when there’s spit gathering at the corners of your mouth as your boyfriend mindlessly plays with you, it’s hard to forget your place

after an undisclosed period of time, he’ll drag your face to his crotch by your jaw and get you to suck his cock

he doesn’t mind how, quick and sloppy or slow and intimate, just as long as you’re making him cum by the end of it

he still pays you no mind throughout the whole thing, desperately trying to hide his moans behind well placed coughs

and then once he’s finished and you’ve swallowed it down like a good girl, that’s when he finally looks at you

it’s always with a sweet smile as he invites his good girl back onto the sofa

“come on, pup,” he mumbles as he pays the spot next to him, “you’ve done so well, hm? want me to make you cum for me?”

and you can help but nod as you crawl up onto the furniture and cuddle in close

he lets out a chuckle when you press yourself into his side, spreading your legs ever so slightly so he has enough room to work

he’ll press a kiss to your nose as he slips his hand inside your shorts to play gently with your clit

depending on his mood, he might go back to ignoring you as he toys with your sensitive bud, but more often than not, your pathetic whines are enough to make him pay full attention to you

but despite his kind expression, his hand is determined

he changes pace often, pressure alternating alongside it

sometimes it’ll be soft and gentle and then a second later his fingers will be speeding up and pressing down harder and harder until you’re squirming and squealing under his touch

and when you finally cum and your body goes limp for just a moment or two, yunho will just smile at you and pull you completely onto his lap

because no offence but he is the softest man to ever exist outside of sex and you cannot deny that

like the moment the both of you have cum, he’s on you like a giant puppy, kissing you softly and massaging you all over

his fingers brush over your bruised knees and he pouts and coos as if he isn’t the one that caused it all

but you don’t mind

because when he’s holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world, all you can think of is how much he means to you…

[ssa-dado]

15 - Epistulae ad Lucilium

Aaron Hotchner x fem!professor!reader Genre: fluff... I think? Summary: Late at night, Aaron struggles to comfort his inconsolable son, Jack. Desperate, he turns to a book and a plush, gifts from you, which momentarily soothe Jack. However, work interrupts as another case calls him away, deepening the rift with his family. At the FBI, the team investigates a series of murders rooted in something up your alley. Warnings: DAD HOTCH DAD HOTCH DAD HOTCH, Haley being mad at him, CM case in detail. Word Count: 9.8k Dado's Corner: Not only did the brilliant mind of @c-losur3 inspired the "dad Hotch" part, but she also gave birth to Aaron "You sound exactly like her" Hotchner. Show her some love! This entire chapter is written from Aaron's POV. Fun fact: when he's with Jack, he’s simply Aaron. But the moment the phone rings, he shifts back into being Hotch. fun, right?

masterlist

It was late into the night, and the house was quiet... save for the soft hum of the baby monitor and Jack’s persistent cries echoing through the walls.

Aaron paced back and forth, cradling his crying son against his chest, his heart sinking a little more with each sob. He had tried everything - rocking Jack, singing lullabies in a low, soothing voice, even walking him in circles around the room. But nothing worked. Jack's cries, relentless and heartbreaking, filled the quiet house.

Jack was inconsolable.

Hotch was no stranger to pressure. He had faced down killers, stared into the eyes of danger, but this? This was different. This was Jack, and the stakes felt infinitely higher.

He had held off on trying this one last thing, but now, he had no choice. He paused, glancing at the small bookshelf in the corner of the room.  There, among the rows of children’s books, sat one that he hadn’t reached for yet tonight. His eyes settled on the small brown plushie sitting nearby that had arrived months ago in a giant cardboard box - your gift.

It had been an unexpected surprise, that day. A package too big for the porch had appeared, and if it hadn’t been for the Croatian postage stamp, Hotch might’ve thought it was a mistake. But no, he knew it was from you. You had mentioned in one of your letters that you were off to Croatia for a teaching stint, and he'd expected maybe a postcard or a quick note, but instead, there was this - a large package filled with something quirky, something that was so... you.

When Haley had seen it sitting by the door, she’d raised her eyebrows, eyeing the box with suspicion. “What on earth is that?”

Hotch had smiled faintly, already guessing. “It’s from her.”

Opening the package had been an experience in itself. Nestled inside was the plushie - a strange-looking creature Haley hadn’t immediately recognized. Her brow had furrowed as she picked it up, holding it at arm's length. "Is this... a brown skunk?" she had asked, her tone teetering between amusement and confusion.

But Aaron had found it endearing, charming in that odd, thoughtful way. Attached to the plushie's tag was one of your signature sticky notes, written in your unmistakable blue ink. It read:

"Hi Jack, meet your new friend, the pine marten. I read that humans are the greatest threat to the European pine marten, hope you can prove them wrong. He's a cool guy! He is also the national animal of Croatia (a privilege reserved for a select few). P.S. Here's your first word in Croatian: Kuna. It means marten."

Aaron had smiled at the note, his heart warming as he imagined you carefully writing out those words, taking the time to craft something special for his son. The gift was thoughtful, filled with meaning, as all your gestures were.

But that wasn’t all. Beneath the plush toy lay a small book, its cover adorned with a cartoonish pine marten embarking on what looked like an adventure. There was another sticky note stuck to the front:

"To Jack's parents: Here’s a complimentary book with the pine marten’s adventures. You’ll find translations in English, but I encourage you to try reading it in Croatian. Aaron, if you ever actually attempt it, give me a call. I’m always up for a comedy show."

Haley had chuckled at that, shaking her head. “I always wonder how she comes up with these ideas…”

Aaron, flipping through the book, hadn’t replied, too caught up in your careful handiwork. Each page was thoughtfully illustrated, with colorful hand-lettering in the margins. You had even drawn little pine martens on the sticky notes, making it seem as if they were the ones doing the translating. You’d put so much thought into it that he could feel it in every page he turned.

And somehow, since the day Jack was born, that pine marten plushie had become his favorite - maybe he could feel the love and care that came with it, the way only children could.

Now, as he grabbed the toy and the book, a small glimmer of hope sparked in his chest. Jack’s cries had softened just a bit when he saw the plush marten.

Maybe this would work. It had to.

Aaron sat down in the creaking rocking chair, gently cradling Jack against his chest as he carefully opened the familiar book. The title, "Male Pustolovine Kune Borove", made him smirk as soon as he saw it, the memory of his first attempt at reading it aloud bringing an amused warmth to his chest. The way he had butchered the pronunciation was miserably laughable, even to him. He was certain you had picked it just for that reason, knowing full well he’d struggle, probably just to get a good laugh out of him.

And, knowing you, he was probably right.

"Alright, buddy," He murmured softly, his voice a low and soothing balm as he turned the first page. "Let’s see what Kuna is up to tonight."

Jack’s tiny fingers instinctively reached out for the plush pine marten, gripping it tightly as he nestled deeper into his father’s arms. The gentle rocking and familiar sound of Aaron’s voice seemed to finally calm the little boy, his sobs quieting, his body softening against Hotch’s steady frame. As he read, Aaron’s hand gently brushed through Jack’s soft hair, soothing him further with each tender stroke.

“You know, buddy,” He murmured, more to himself than anyone, his heart swelling with affection, “the person who gave you this book is very special to me, she’s one of the most amazing people I know. Of course," he added with a soft chuckle, “you come first. But she’s right up there.”

Jack, too young to understand the words, let out a soft sigh, comforted by the warmth of his father’s embrace and the gentle rhythm of the story. As Aaron continued to read, his thoughts inevitably drifted back to you. They always did, especially in quiet moments like this. It felt natural, comforting even, to talk to Jack about you - someone who meant so much to him, yet had been far away for so long. Aaron had always wanted you to meet Jack, and speaking about you made it feel as if, somehow, it brought you closer to him, closer to them.

“Did you know,” he whispered in a conspiratorial tone, “she’s accepted a teaching position in Quantico? She could’ve gone anywhere, but she’s coming here. Closer to us. You’ll get to meet her soon.”

A small smile crept across his face as he thought about the letters you’d sent over the years. “Don't look at me like this, buddy, I liked getting her letters, even if she does like to make things difficult for me sometimes,” he said, glancing at the Croatian text in front of him with an amused sigh. “But I don't think I'm going to miss them, not at all. Not when she’ll be close enough to just… be here. And trust me, Jack, you’re going to love her, just like I do.”

Jack stirred slightly, his little hands gripping the pine marten even tighter, as if he already knew who his father was talking about.

He chuckled softly, glancing down at the beloved plush toy in his son’s arms. “You know, you’re inseparable from that pine marten all because of her,” Aaron said, his voice filled with warmth. “And here I am, reading you this story in Croatian... because of her too.”

He paused for a moment, watching as Jack’s eyelids began to droop, his tiny body relaxed against him. He couldn’t help the swell of love that filled him as he kissed his son’s forehead, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“You’ll meet her soon, Jack,” He whispered, his voice soft and full of affection. “And when she holds you for the first time, I need you to do me a favor, alright buddy? You have to avenge me,” he said with a playful glint in his eye. “Because she’s never going to miss a chance to mess with me. So, when you’re in her arms, you give her a look - like this,” Aaron made his best serious ‘Hotch’ face, one of his famous stoic expressions. “Make her think you’re onto her.”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound barely above a whisper in the quiet nursery, but then he leaned in closer to Jack, his voice dropping to a playful, conspiratorial tone. “And listen, buddy,” he whispered, “if she ever starts saying words that sound like ‘Hegel’ or ‘Plato,’ you go ahead and start crying, just like you did earlier. Alright?” He smiled, brushing a gentle hand over Jack’s soft hair. “In the Hotchner household, we’re lawyers, little man. We don’t have time for all that abstract philosophy,” he teased, his grin widening. “You just make it clear to her, no funny business, okay?”

Jack sighed contentedly in his arms, his tiny fingers clutching the pine marten as he drifted off to sleep. He kissed his forehead once more, the weight of the day finally beginning to melt away as he continued to read, the warmth of the moment enveloping them both.

Just then, Haley appeared in the doorway, her hair tousled from sleep and her eyes filled with frustration. "Aaron, is he still crying?" she asked, though her tone softened when she saw Aaron  sitting with Jack and the plush marten in his lap. "Are you reading him the brown skunk story again?" she asked, her voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

Aaron, too tired to defend himself, simply nodded. “It’s the only thing that works.”

Haley leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching them with a half-smile. “Does it put Jack to sleep, or you, Aaron?”

Before he could respond, his phone buzzed on the side table. The noise cut through the soft moment like a knife, pulling him back into reality. He knew what it meant before he even looked at the screen.

Another case.

Haley’s smile faded instantly, replaced by a familiar frustration that he’d seen in her eyes too many times before. She straightened up, her voice rising just a bit. “Are you serious? It’s the middle of the night, Aaron. You’ve barely been home, and now you’re leaving again?”

Hotch rubbed his forehead, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He didn’t want to go, not tonight. But he had no choice. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, already reaching for his phone. “It’s a new case.”

Haley let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she turned to leave the room. "Of course it is," she muttered, her words fading into the stillness as her footsteps echoed down the hall, each step a progressively quieter reminder of the growing distance between them.

Hotch's heart clenched, a sharp ache spreading through him as he stood frozen, watching her retreat.

The nursery felt unnaturally heavier now, the excessive silence thick and oppressive.

He looked down toward Jack, who was still nested peacefully in his arms, his tiny chest rising and falling in the soft, rhythmic cadence of sleep. The gentle glow of the nightlight bathed his son’s face in warmth, casting a tender light over the innocence of his slumber.

The small pine marten, nestled against Jack's cheek, stared back at Hotch with its beady, lifeless eyes, but it seemed to carry a weight of its own, its presence a reminder of the thoughtfulness and care that had come with it, a symbol of the love that lingered even in absence. Jack's fingers clutched the toy tightly, as if it were the one constant in a world where his father’s presence was becoming less and less frequent.

Haley's words, bitter and sharp, lingered in the air like a distant storm, a shadow that refused to leave. And as Hotch stood there, caught between the quiet of his son’s peaceful sleep and the echo of Haley’s retreat, he couldn’t help but feel the vastness of everything slipping through his fingers.

He wanted nothing more than to stay here, to hold his son and be present. But the buzzing of his phone on the side table pulled him back to reality. With a heavy sigh, he glanced down at the screen. His heart sank even further.

“Hotchner,” he answered, his voice clipped with resignation.

As JJ's voice filled his ear with grim details of the new case, the weight of Haley’s words pressed even harder against his chest. It was the same cycle, always the same. Each time he left, Jack would wake up alone, Haley would grow more distant, and the gap between his family and his job would widen. His guilt gnawed at him, a relentless ache that never truly subsided.

But he couldn’t ignore the call.

He never could.

---

Hotch arrived at the FBI building late, his mind still replaying the scene at home, the way Haley had looked at him with a mix of frustration and defeat. The team was already gathered in the briefing room, the fluorescent lights too harsh for the late hour.

He still felt the pull from the nursery, the warmth of Jack’s small body against his chest. But now, here, the weight of duty replaced it. He had to push it aside, at least for now.

“We’ve got six confirmed victims so far,” JJ began, her voice level but laced with tension. “But the local police didn’t connect the dots until the sixth victim. The MO keeps changing with each murder, which is why it slipped through the cracks for so long.”

Hotch’s jaw tightened, his mind snapping to the present. “The unsub might be experimenting. They could be evolving, trying to find their signature. Or…” he paused, considering the alternative, “we could be dealing with someone who’s familiar with different methods, someone who knows how to disguise their work.”

Gideon crossed his arms, his expression unreadable but intense, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. “What’s the timeline?”

JJ scanned her notes, her brow furrowed. “The first victim was found three months ago. Then the second and third within two weeks of each other. But the real concern is the escalation. Victims four through six were found in the past ten days.”

Hotch's mind raced through the details.

Three months.

Three months of missed opportunities. Every minute wasted in connecting the dots could’ve been a life saved. The guilt returned in a wave, a reminder of every moment he hadn’t been there, both at work and at home. He shook the thought off, burying it as deep as he could for now.

He had to focus.

“There’s no clear pattern in terms of location or victim profile,” JJ added, her voice quieter now.

“That suggests escalation,” Morgan said, stepping forward and leaning against the desk, his arms folded across his chest. “The unsub’s confidence is growing. They’re moving faster.”

Reid, who had been staring at the evidence board in silence, finally spoke up, his voice thoughtful and measured. “Changing MOs could mean we’re dealing with someone new to killing - experimenting with different methods. But,” he hesitated, “it could also mean there’s a purpose behind each change. The way the kills are evolving might have a deeper meaning.”

Hotch took a breath, grounding himself in the task at hand. “Gideon, Prentiss, Morgan,” he said, his voice taking on its usual command, though there was a subtle edge of weariness to it. “Head to the latest crime scene, we need fresh eyes on it. JJ, Reid, and I will meet with the local authorities and review their files. Reid, I want you to start working on the geographical profile, see if there’s any consistency in the locations.”

The team moved with purpose, their steps quick and deliberate as they gathered their bags and made for the door. But Hotch lingered, just for a heartbeat longer, rooted in place as a familiar heaviness settled in his chest. The guilt wrapped itself around him like a tightening vine, threading through his thoughts with every passing second.

It wasn’t just the weight of the case that pressed down on him - it was the aching truth that once again, he had chosen this, chosen the relentless pursuit of justice over the quiet, fleeting moments with his son.

He pushed the thought away as best as he could, but the ache remained, a constant reminder of everything he was losing while trying to save others.

---

There was nothing quite like the hollow hum of a six-hour flight to clear his mind, though the thoughts clung to him stubbornly at first, like shadows he couldn't shake.

As the plane crossed the first timezone, the weight of realization settled in: he would never be the husband Haley deserved, not in the way she needed.

By the time they passed the second timezone, another truth pressed against him like a bruise: he would never be the father he wished to be, not enough to erase the empty spaces he left behind.

But it was during the third stretch, as the world below darkened and the hum of the plane grew louder, that he understood the final piece of the puzzle. If he let these thoughts consume him, if he lingered too long in the ache of what he couldn’t be, he would lose the only thing left to him: his ability to be good at this, at the one thing that demanded his whole being.

As the plane descended, Hotch leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly. He couldn’t afford to dwell on the cracks forming in his personal life, not now, not with a case like this waiting for him. The moment the wheels hit the tarmac, the emotional turbulence he’d been wrestling with needed to be packed away, stored in a corner of his mind that he could no longer afford to visit.

He was good at compartmentalizing, too good.

By the time he, JJ, and Reid stepped into the stifling heat of the local precinct, Hotch had already shifted fully into his role, his mind sharpening, refocusing on the case that had now become his only priority. The quiet turmoil of his personal life faded, replaced by the pressure of a killer they were struggling to catch.

The exhausted police chief approached them, his face haggard from sleepless nights and the mounting pressure of a case that had spiraled out of control. "We’ve been spinning our wheels on this one," the chief admitted, his voice weary.

He motioned to the evidence board, where the victims' photos were tacked haphazardly, a mess of lives lost without a clear thread linking them. “It wasn’t until the sixth victim that we started connecting the dots, and by then, we were already behind. These murders don’t make sense together.”

Hotch approached the board, his eyes moving methodically from one image to the next. The crime scene photos were brutal: faces frozen in death, bodies contorted, each one telling a different story. He took a deep breath and gestured toward the chief. “What have you got so far?”

The chief’s sigh was heavy. “Every victim is different. Male, female, different ethnicities, different ages. The methods vary too: strangulation, stabbing, blunt force trauma. It’s like we’re dealing with multiple killers, but we know that’s not the case. There’s something linking them, but we can’t find it.”

Reid was already pacing, his eyes flicking from the board to the map on the wall. His mind churned as he analyzed and reanalyzed the positions of the bodies and the evidence scattered before him. His hands traced invisible connections between the dots as he muttered to himself, sorting through the details that still felt elusive.

Hotch turned to Reid, his tone even but commanding. “Reid, what are you thinking?”

Reid didn’t tear his eyes from the board, his voice steady but quick as he processed the flood of information. “At first glance, it seems chaotic. The changing MOs, the lack of a clear victim profile - it all suggests disorganization. But…” He paused, picking up the file of the third victim, and his brow furrowed. “There’s hesitation here. The killer hesitated during the third murder. This wasn’t just random. This murder feels… intentional. Like the unsub was evolving or refining something.”

JJ moved closer, her gaze scanning the file Reid held up. “Intentional how?” she asked, her voice edged with the need to understand.

Reid pointed to the victim’s wounds. “Look at the pattern of injuries. The cuts are precise, controlled. The unsub took their time with this one. This isn’t just about killing, it’s about making a statement. It’s as if there’s a theme here.”

Hotch, his instincts alert, zeroed in on Reid’s theory. “A theme?”

Reid nodded, grabbing the other files and spreading them across the table like pieces of a fractured puzzle. “The first victim,” Reid began, pointing to the photo of a middle-aged man found in an alley, his body aged prematurely, his face drained of life. “Time. He was killed slowly, methodically.”

Hotch continued, understanding that the young doctor was onto something, “His watch was broken, and the time stopped at exactly midnight. He was forced to watch it happen, minute by minute. The unsub was playing with the concept of time, as if controlling it.”

Reid nodded and swiftly moved to the second victim, a young woman found posed in front of a mirror, her body displayed almost like a work of art. “The second victim represents virtue. She was strangled, but the way she was posed afterward - like a Madonna figure - suggests the unsub was making a comment on purity or morality. The unsub didn’t just kill her, they transformed her into a symbol.”

JJ glanced at the photo, her brows knitting together. “So, the killer’s trying to send a message?”

Reid’s voice picked up momentum, his eyes gleaming as he continued to unravel the pattern. “Exactly. The third victim, it’s the theme of friendship. He was stabbed multiple times, but the placement of the wounds shows care. Almost like the unsub was reluctant at first, then deliberately chose each strike. This murder represents betrayal, the wounds symbolizing a broken bond.”

Hotch’s gaze darkened as he took in the significance of each murder. “What about the fourth victim?”

Reid flipped through the files, landing on a young man found at a cemetery, his body arranged as if in sleep, with his hands folded over his chest like a corpse in a casket. “The fourth victim represents death itself. He was already dressed in funeral attire when he was killed. The unsub buried him halfway in a grave that had already been dug, leaving him in a liminal state, neither fully alive nor fully dead.”

JJ’s breath hitched slightly at the thought. “The unsub’s not just killing. They’re staging these murders to symbolize something deeper.”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he processed the unfolding realization. “And the fifth victim? Religion?”

Reid nodded, pulling up the photo of a woman found in a church, her body draped across the altar, surrounded by religious symbols. “She was killed in the church, posed like a martyr. The unsub’s making a statement about faith, morality, and sacrifice. It’s almost ritualistic.”

Hotch’s gaze sharpened. “And the sixth? Freedom?”

Reid picked up the most recent file, the image of a man found in a wide, open field, his body scattered with wounds, as if he had been tortured for hours. “He was bound at first, kept restrained for days, but when he was finally killed, it was in an open field. The unsub let him go, only to take that freedom away in the end. It’s the ultimate act of control - giving the victim a taste of freedom, then ripping it away.”

JJ stared at the crime scene photos, her expression shifting from confusion to horror. “So, the unsub isn’t just experimenting with methods. They’re following some kind of philosophical framework, each murder connected to a larger theme.”

The word ‘philosophical’ hit Hotch like a trigger, and instantly, his mind began to drift. It was as if that word had become synonymous with you.

He barely registered the rest of JJ's sentence because the moment she mentioned philosophy, his thoughts were no longer in the room.

They were with you.

Over the years, it had become an automatic reflex. Any time the conversation veered toward deep concepts, philosophical debates, or ancient texts, his mind would latch onto memories of your voice, your insights. You were the one who could crack these kinds of cases almost effortlessly. The way you connected with these abstract ideas, how you always found the hidden thread - he could practically hear your voice explaining it, guiding him.

He missed you in moments like this, missed working by your side.

The cases felt heavier without your presence.

Especially now, with you back in Quantico, just within reach but not close enough. It made his itch for your partnership even more acute, more frustrating. You were always the one who could decode the intricacies of a mind like this. He craved your insight, your steady presence, the way you challenged him and calmed him all at once.

He could almost picture you now, sitting at your desk, flipping through files with that slight furrow in your brow as you connected the dots others couldn’t. This case felt like it was made for you, and the itch to call you, to have your insight cut through the confusion like a knife, gnawed at him.

It was more than just missing your professional brilliance, it was the familiar rhythm the two of you had shared, the way you could pick up on each other’s unspoken thoughts with a glance. You had always been in sync, a partnership that felt more like second nature than work.

His gaze stayed fixed on the board, but his mind was far from the room. "Focus on the first victim," he said, his voice low but more urgent than before. "The first kill is usually the most significant. What can you tell us about the theme of time?"

Even as the words left his lips, the thought tugged at him - he needed to call you. You would see what they were missing. And, truthfully, he just wanted to hear your voice again.

But he couldn't.

Not yet.

You were likely teaching, and the last thing he wanted to do was disturb you in the middle of class. Even though it was morning in D.C. and he knew your lessons wouldn’t start until the early afternoon, he could picture exactly what you were doing.

If he knew you well - and he did - you’d be hunched over your desk right now, a double espresso halfway emptied beside you, scribbling down notes for your upcoming lesson. Schemes, summaries, diagrams, anything that would help your students grasp the material. Every scribble was made with the same care and thought you always gave, just like the book you had gifted Jack.

He could see you clearly, writing as fast as you could, racing to keep up with the faster pace of your mind. On topics that especially interested you, your hand would move so quickly that the gel blue ink of your pen would smudge across the page. That was the only imperfection in your otherwise meticulous notes. But to him, even that smudge was a detail he cherished. It was another way you showed your heart and passion, pouring yourself into every word.

He couldn't interrupt that.

Not now. But the urge still lingered, and the longing to share this case with you, to hear your insight, gnawed at him with every passing second.

His attention snapped back to the present as Reid’s voice filled the room, his philosophical lecture flowing uninterrupted. Hotch hadn’t even noticed that Prentiss, Morgan, and Gideon had returned from the crime scene, now quietly listening to Reid’s ideas.

“Time, philosophically speaking, is a concept that has been debated for centuries,” Reid began, his voice steady and thoughtful. “Kant believed time was a construct of the mind, a way for humans to make sense of their experiences. Augustine argued that time is divided into past, present, and future, but none truly exist in the same moment-”

Before Reid could continue, Morgan cut in, shaking his head with a half-smile. “Slow down there, professor. Not all of us are ready for a PhD lecture on time.”

The brief moment of levity brought a faint smile to Hotch’s lips - barely there, just a twitch - but enough for Gideon to catch. It wasn’t the first time Hotch had heard this kind of deep dive into philosophical musings, and the memory was enough to stir something inside him.

You, again.

He could almost hear your voice over Reid’s, see you pacing, effortlessly turning philosophical debates into a practical narrative. There had always been an energy between the two of you, a mental chess game where each new idea or concept clicked together in a way that made even the most abstract notions understandable,at least to those who could keep up.

Across the room, Gideon noticed the change in Hotch's expression, the subtle flicker of something unspoken. He raised an eyebrow knowingly, understanding exactly where Hotch’s thoughts had wandered. He had seen this look before way too often now.

Hotch quickly noticed Gideon’s silent observation, his smile fading as his face hardened back into its usual stoic mask. He stepped toward Reid, signaling him to wrap it up, the professionalism sliding effortlessly back into place. As he passed Reid, he muttered just low enough for him to hear, “You sound just like her.”

Reid paused mid-thought, blinking in confusion. “Her who?”

Hotch didn’t answer.

The room seemed to still for a moment, the tension subtly thickening as the rest of the team exchanged glances. It wasn’t hard to guess who Hotch was referring to. Even though you were never part of the team, your presence lingered in moments like this, your intellect, your connection to him.

Everyone in the room knew it.

Before Reid could press the question any further, Hotch’s phone buzzed again, the sound cutting sharply through the quiet. The vibration echoed ominously against the table, pulling everyone’s attention. Hotch glanced down at the screen, his expression immediately hardening as he read the message.

“Another body,” he said, the grimness in his voice pulling the room back to the brutal reality of their work. His earlier thoughts of you were now pushed to the background, swallowed by the urgency of the case.

The unsub wasn’t slowing down. If anything, the kills were escalating, the pace quickening, leaving them scrambling to piece together the next part of the puzzle. Hotch could feel the pressure mounting, time was slipping through their fingers, and they still hadn’t cracked the philosophical code that would lead them to the killer.

But even as Hotch mentally prepared for the next step, a thought lingered at the edges of his mind: You would have seen it already. You would know what they were missing. It gnawed at him, the need to reach out, to hear your voice offering clarity. But there was no time for that now.

---

At the crime scene, something had shifted. This time, it wasn’t just the brutality of the kill that had the team on edge, it was the new element, a disturbing and cryptic message left behind.

Beside the body, stark against the wet pavement, was a large "X," crudely drawn, yet deliberate in its placement. The symbol, bold and unmistakable, seemed to pulse with meaning, as if it were taunting them, daring the team to uncover its secret.

The victim’s body told a different story: this murder was tied to the theme of lust. Everything about the scene - the suggestive placement of the victim, the meticulous positioning of the clothes, and the intimate nature of the wounds - hinted at the unsub's twisted interpretation of lust. But it was the "X" that radiated significance, a signature of sorts, demanding their attention and indicating a deeper layer to the crime.

Back at the police station, the air buzzed with tension as the team tried to decipher the meaning behind the mysterious mark. Hotch stood silently at the head of the room, his mind swirling with the ideas being tossed around by the team.

Morgan leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and scowled at the photo of the "X" on the evidence board. "What if this unsub’s just messing with us? Like on a treasure map. 'X marks the spot,' right? Could be their way of saying, 'Hey, look here, you're getting warmer.' Could be a taunt."

Reid, pacing near the board, rubbed his chin in thought. "Historically, an 'X' can represent a crossroads, a point of decision. In medieval times, it symbolized judgment - both in religion and law. It could indicate the unsub sees themselves as a judge, perhaps someone deciding the fate of their victims."

Prentiss chimed in, her voice thoughtful, eyes scanning the crime scene reports. "It might even be a form of signature. In some cases, killers leave marks, symbols to claim their work. Maybe it's less about us and more about the unsub marking their territory. This ‘X’ could be their way of saying, ‘This is mine.’"

As the ideas bounced around the room, Hotch remained unnervingly still, his eyes locked on the photograph of the bold "X" scrawled beside the body. The image seemed to pulse with meaning, but the answer eluded him, hovering just beyond reach like a word on the tip of his tongue.

Each theory felt plausible but incomplete, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle that didn’t quite fit together. Hotch’s mind churned through the ideas, but something - something vital - was missing.

Gideon, who had been silently observing from the sidelines, finally stepped forward. He watched Hotch closely, noting the tension in his posture, the way his brow furrowed with concentration. Gideon knew Hotch well enough to see when he was wrestling with something more than just the case.

“You should give her a call,” Gideon said quietly, his voice cutting through the murmur of ideas.

Hotch blinked, pulled from his thoughts by the unexpected suggestion. “Why?” he asked, his tone guarded, though deep down, he knew exactly what Gideon was implying.

Gideon’s eyes held a knowing glint, his expression calm but certain. “She’s already a step ahead of us, Aaron. You know how she is. She can see the bigger picture, the themes, the patterns that might be slipping through our fingers. These murders, this complexity... she’ll catch what we’re missing. She always does.”

Hotch hesitated, the weight of your name hanging between them. You were the first person who came to his mind - philosophy had always been your language, and you had a way of translating the abstract into something that made sense, even in the darkest of cases.

But calling you felt so complicated.

“She’s got a lecture at the academy this morning,” Hotch said quietly, his gaze drifting away. “And even if she could help, it would take her hours to go through the files.” His voice softened, as if he were reasoning with himself as much as he was explaining to Gideon.

Gideon raised an eyebrow, his faint smile betraying how far ahead he had already planned. “That’s why I had Garcia send her the files yesterday,” he said smoothly. “She’s been going over them ever since Reid made the connection with the themes.”

He had anticipated this. Of course, he had.

Hotch straightened, the hesitation still tugging at him as he pulled out his phone. The urge to hear your voice, to let you guide them through the confusion, gnawed at him. He dialed your number, his thumb hovering over the call button for a second longer than necessary. The phone rang, and anticipation built with every ring until finally, you answered.

“I was waiting for your call, partner,” you said, your tone familiar and easy, as though no time had passed since you had last worked side by side. Your voice alone brought a sense of comfort, one that Hotch hadn’t realized he needed in that moment.

Before Hotch could respond, he picked up on the faint sounds of a classroom in the background - soft murmurs, the scrape of chairs, and the faint shuffle of papers. Then your voice came through, a bit more formal than usual, though laced with the familiar hint of humor. “Now you’re on speaker. Everyone, this is SSA Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU.”

Hotch’s smile faded slightly, the weight of the situation settling in. “It’s an active case,” he cautioned, his tone firm but gentle, a reminder of the need for discretion. “The details are confidential.”

You laughed, the sound rich and unburdened by the darkness that often filled his days. “I know, I know. But Gideon told me I could bend the rules just this once, and you know that I’m the first one who always wants to play by the book. But sometimes you have to bend the law, because ethics are more important… just don’t write that down in your notes.”

Hotch shook his head, though the faint tug of amusement softened his otherwise stern expression. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmured.

Then your tone shifted, growing more serious, more focused. “That ‘X’ isn’t just a letter. The way it’s drawn, the graphics - it’s too condensed. It’s too deliberate to be a regular ‘X.’ What if it’s not a letter at all? What if it’s the Roman numeral for ten?”

Reid, who had been silently pouring over the files, immediately perked up at your suggestion. His face lit up with recognition, as if a light had been switched on in his mind. “Yes! Roman numerals, that makes perfect sense. But why ten? What’s the significance?”

Hotch’s mind whirled as he stared at the photograph again, the symbol suddenly taking on new meaning. “In Roman numerals, ten doesn’t just represent the number, it signifies sequence. It could mean ‘tenth,’ like this is part of a larger series. The unsub could be following some kind of plan or pattern.”

Prentiss, still studying the details, looked up sharply. “What if this is the tenth victim? The police didn’t connect the earlier cases until recently. There could be other victims we don’t know about.”

Gideon nodded, his face unreadable but thoughtful. “That’s possible. The pace of the killings has picked up recently, but that doesn’t mean the earlier victims weren’t just as important. We might be missing the full picture.”

Your voice cut through the air again, focused and clear. “If that ‘X’ is the Roman numeral for ten, then Penelope should start pulling data from unsolved homicides in nearby areas, cases that might have slipped through the cracks. If there are other victims, they’ll be there.”

Hotch didn’t hesitate as he patched the call through to Garcia, his fingers moving swiftly. The line clicked over, and Garcia’s familiar, playful voice came through with her usual flair. “Spank me, teacher. I’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

Laughter erupted in the background on your end - the unmistakable sound of your students, likely stunned at hearing such an exchange from an actual FBI technical analyst. Hotch’s face remained serious, though he could picture the small smile tugging at your lips. You were probably trying your best to let it slide, convincing your students that it never happened and brushing it off as a figment of their imagination.

Or so he thought.

You didn’t let it slide, not at all.

You chuckled softly, your voice warm but teasing. “Penelope, I think we need to keep it professional this time. But if I weren’t engaged, I might just ask you to show me your Python. What do you think? Was that good enough?”

Of course, once again, you proved him wrong.

The laughter from your classroom grew louder, borderline hysterical now, clearly not expecting such a quip from someone like you. Hotch, despite his best efforts, couldn’t entirely suppress the smile tugging at his own lips. There was something about the way you matched Garcia’s banter, unexpected but effortlessly fitting. Still, the reality of the case loomed, pulling him back to focus.

“I knew it! Deep down, you’re a naughty girl just like me!” Garcia shot back, her voice full of mischief before quickly shifting gears. “All right, all right. Let’s get serious. Let’s see what I can dig up.”

As Garcia’s voice faded and the team fell back into their analysis, Hotch leaned back slightly, his thoughts racing. Despite the levity, a sense of weight pressed down on him. The murders weren’t just random - there was a deeper thread running through them, something that tied everything together, but it remained elusive.

“There’s something we’re still missing,” Hotch muttered, half to himself but loud enough for the others to hear. “Something that ties these murders together in a way we haven’t seen yet.”

Your voice came through the speaker again, this time with an edge of intensity. “What if the X isn’t marking the number of victims? What if it’s connected to something literary, related to the theme of that murder - lust?”

Reid, always quick to piece together intellectual puzzles, murmured, “It could be connected to a text, a framework. The killings are following themes, and they might be related to a specific work of literature.”

You continued, your voice growing more thoughtful, “The theme of lust makes me immediately think of Dante’s Inferno - the second circle of Hell, where the lustful are punished.”

Reid’s mind raced, picking up on your line of thought. “Yes! In Dante’s Inferno, the lustful are driven by uncontrollable winds, symbolizing the way they’re tossed by their desires. But… wait…” He paused, pacing in front of the crime scene photos pinned to the wall. “In the fifth canticle of The Divine Comedy, the second circle represents the punishment of lust. Multiply the fifth canticle by the second circle, and you get the number ten.”

Gideon's gaze intensified as he considered the details of the case. "This isn't just a random act. It’s carefully and mathematically calculated," he observed, his tone thoughtful yet troubled. "But something still feels off. The message should be clearer—it’s already masked beneath a Roman numeral. It shouldn’t involve any additional complexity like a multiplication."

Hotch's eyes brightened as the realization hit him, the missing piece finally clicking into place. “What if this isn’t just about the sin of lust?” he said, his voice sharper now with clarity. “What if it’s about the negation of lust? Maybe the unsub isn’t punishing the victims for acting on lust, but for failing to avoid it. It’s not about the act itself, but about their choice not to resist. You live a life of indulgence, and you die for it. But the real question is - how could they have saved themselves? What did they fail to do?”

Suddenly, your voice broke through again, sharp and full of clarity. “Living a life through reason: that’s the real theme of the murder. Epistulae ad Lucilium. Seneca the Younger. In the 10th letter to Lucilium – he talked about the importance of living a life through the stoic ideals, the key is self-control, avoiding indulgences like lust”

The room went silent for a moment as everyone absorbed what you had just said. Reid’s face lit up as he immediately followed your line of thinking. “Exactly! In the 10th letter he mentioned ‘Sed ut more meo cum aliquo munusculo epistulam mittam, verum est quod apud Athenodorum inveni: 'tunc scito esse te omnibus cupiditatibus solutum, cum eo perveneris ut nihil deum roges nisi quod rogare possis palam'.”

It felt like you could see the confused look on each agents’ face, even if you were in Quantico: “That translates to ‘But as is my custom with sending a letter with some small gift, it is true what I found in Athenodes: 'then know that you are freed from all desires, and with it you will come to ask nothing of God except what you can openly ask.'”

You further explained the meaning “For us mortals, it means that when you free yourself from wanting things for yourself, you reach a peaceful state. In this state, you will only ask for things that are good and honest, with nothing selfish or hidden behind your requests. To find inner peace by we need to let go of desires and living with clear intentions.” You paused “Wow Spencer how did you know the entire passage in latin?”

Hotch unintentionally cut off Reid’s response - who had been beaming from your recognition, his boyish grin spreading across his face as he began, “Eidetic memory, I read the entire book when I was only twe-.” But Hotch, ever focused, quickly steered the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Are you saying the unsub is following Stoic philosophy?” he asked, his tone sharp with urgency, seeking clarity in your analysis.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady and thoughtful. “The killings are modeled after the teachings in Epistulae ad Lucilium - also known as Letters from a Stoic.” Hotch swore he could hear the hint of a suppressed giggle on the other side of the phone, but you quickly returned to the matter at hand.

“These letters weren’t just philosophical musings; they were moral teachings. Seneca was writing to his student, Lucilium, urging him to live a life governed by reason, virtue, and restraint. Each letter deals with a specific theme - like friendship, time, death, religion, virtue, and freedom. Seneca believed that by controlling our desires and passions, we could free ourselves from the things that enslave us - namely, emotions like lust, greed, and fear. Sound familiar, Unit Chief?”

Before Hotch could respond to your unexpected jab, your tone shifted back to focus on the case. “In these killings, the unsub is punishing people for failing to live up to Stoic ideals. The crime scenes aren’t random at all: they’re deliberate, calculated representations of the failures Seneca warned about. The victim of lust was killed because they lacked control over their desires, which is a fundamental tenet in Stoic philosophy. It’s not the first letter Seneca wrote, and it certainly won’t be the last.”

Reid jumped in, clearly excited by your insight. “Exactly! Each murder is a representation of one of Seneca’s letters. The victim of lust was killed because they didn’t live a life of restraint, but the other murders also follow this pattern. Virtue, time, friendship, freedom, religion, death - they all correspond to themes Seneca explored in his letters. The unsub is picking people who fail to live up to these ideals and killing them as if it’s a lesson.”

Morgan, still crouched beside the latest crime scene photo, looked up, his expression darkening as he tried to connect the philosophical themes with the brutality of the murders. “So we know why the unsub is killing—to punish people for failing these ancient ideals. But how does this help us catch them?”

You spoke again, the gears in your mind turning quickly. “There’s something else you need to consider. If these murders are following Seneca’s teachings, then we know there’s a deeper message behind each kill. Seneca’s letters were instructional, they were lessons written for his student, Lucilium. So if we think of these killings as lessons, then it’s possible the unsub isn’t just acting alone. They’re teaching someone.”

JJ frowned as she processed your theory. “A message... to who? Who’s the student in this scenario?”

Gideon, who had been silently contemplating the unfolding theory, stepped forward, his voice grave. “The unsub is taking on the role of Seneca, but every Seneca has a Lucilium. They’re not just killing; they’re teaching someone. These murders are lessons, each one showing their ‘student’ how to live, or rather, how not to live.”

Hotch, his mind racing with the implications, pieced it together quickly. “So there’s a ‘Lucilium’ out there, someone the unsub is guiding. Someone they’re grooming, possibly teaching how to kill.”

Prentiss straightened, her face hardening as the realization sank in. “Which means we’re not just dealing with one unsub. There’s a mentor and a student. Seneca is teaching Lucilium to follow this twisted moral code.”

Hotch stepped back from the evidence board, his brow furrowed as the weight of the case began to fully reveal itself. “We’re looking at two unsubs. The one we’ve been calling ‘Seneca,’ who’s leading these murders, and a second unsub, ‘Lucilium,’ who is learning from them. The second person is still in training, which means we have a chance to stop them before the lessons are complete.”

There was a heavy silence in the room as the team absorbed the gravity of the situation. The realization that they were up against not just a killer, but a teacher guiding an apprentice, added an entirely new layer of urgency to the case.

You broke the silence again, your voice more serious than before. “If you find ‘Lucilium,’ you’ll find Seneca. But there's more. In Epistulae ad Lucilium, Seneca also discusses two more themes that haven’t yet appeared in the murders: slavery and the crowd. If the unsub is following the structure of Seneca’s letters, then we know what to expect next.”

Gideon, always focused on the broader picture, spoke with quiet authority. “If Seneca is teaching Lucilium how to kill, it means Seneca has a criminal record. No one just starts teaching murder out of the blue. Garcia, start running a search for known offenders with a background in philosophy, particularly Roman and Stoic philosophy. Look for connections between any of these offenders and known students or proteges.”

Garcia’s voice crackled through the speaker, her usual lightheartedness replaced with focus. “Already on it, boss. Cross-referencing every offender who’s mentioned Seneca, Stoicism, or anything close. I’ll narrow it down as quickly as I can.”  

---

Back in his office, Hotch sat slumped in his chair, exhaustion pulling at his every muscle. The scattered papers in front of him were neatly organized, but his mind was a tangled mess, caught in the lingering grip of the case.

This one weighed heavier than most, the usual closure that came with catching an unsub evading him. They had barely stopped him in time, so close to another life being stolen under the theme of slavery. The image of what could have been haunted him, the brutal calculation of the murders, the way each victim had been a lesson, twisted and final.

Hotch's weary eyes drifted toward the window, where the darkness of the night had now just settled in, casting heavy shadows across his office. The weight of the case pressed down on him - how close they'd come to failing, the lives that had hung in the balance. It wasn’t just the exhaustion in his bones, but something deeper, a quiet, lingering ache that refused to let go.

The near miss with the last victim, the theme of slavery still fresh in his mind, gnawed at him in a way most cases didn’t. Just as the silence became suffocating, a soft knock at the door broke through, pulling him from his spiraling thoughts. Without looking up, his voice low, he said, “Come in.”

He assumed it would be Gideon. They still had loose ends to discuss, details of the case to tie up before the night slipped any further away. He braced himself for another long conversation, expecting Gideon’s familiar, steady presence to fill the room.

The door creaked open, and someone stepped inside. Hotch didn’t glance up at first, still scribbling notes on the corner of a file. But the sound that followed wasn’t the shuffle of Gideon’s footsteps. Instead, there was a lightness, a familiar cadence, and Hotch frowned in confusion.

“Jason?” he asked, looking up, only to freeze as his gaze met yours.

You stood there, leaning casually against the doorframe, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. “You really thought I was Gideon? You’re slipping, partner.”

For a second, he was caught off guard. He offered you a soft smile, one that came more easily than expected. “I wasn’t expecting you.” he said, his voice quieter than he meant it to be.

You sauntered in and sat down across from him, the easy confidence in your posture disarming him further. “Well, you should always expect the unexpected from me, right?” you teased, your smile growing.

Hotch chuckled softly, the sound surprising even himself. He hadn’t realized how much he missed this, missed you. He’d been so focused on the case, on the mission, that he hadn’t let himself dwell on it. But now, sitting across from you, the memories of all those years working together rushed back, hitting him harder than he anticipated.

Hotch’s gaze softened, but there was a heaviness behind it. “Your help was crucial. We never would’ve figured it out without you. The connections, the philosophy, it was all you.”

You waved him off, shaking your head as if brushing aside his praise. “Reid deserves the real credit,” you insisted. “He’s the one who picked up on the themes firsthand. I just... connected the dots. Besides, I was only on the phone. You and the team did the real work.”

But Hotch wasn’t about to let you downplay your role. “You did more than connect the dots,” he said firmly, his eyes holding yours. “You always see things others don’t.”

For a moment, your teasing demeanor faltered, replaced by something softer, more sincere. You held his gaze, and for the first time since you’d walked in, the banter between you faded into something deeper.

You broke the silence first, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Careful, partner. Compliments like that might go to my head.” The dynamic between you two had always been one of mutual respect, even if it was sometimes hidden behind teasing and banter. Now, after all these years, it felt even more significant.

His expression softened even more, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as well. It was in moments like this that he realized how much he missed you being a constant in his life. Even though you were closer now, taking a teaching position at Quantico, it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough. The case had stirred something in him, made him realize that the distance between you wasn’t just physical.

“So,” He asked after a moment, his curiosity piqued, “what brings you here? Shouldn’t you be celebrating, considering we finally cracked the case?”

You raised your eyebrow, giving him a look as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “I’m here for the paperwork, of course.”

He blinked, taken aback. “Paperwork? You helped us close the case; there’s no need for you to be bogged down with reports. I won’t let you do that.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you leaned forward. “Oh no, partner. I deserve to fill out each one of those reports, especially since I might’ve bent a rule or two helping you out under the pretense of ‘teaching material.’” You gave him a cheeky grin, but he could hear the seriousness beneath your words. You weren’t just here to wrap things up, you wanted to take accountability.

“I already told you,” He said, his voice firm but warm. “It’s my team, my case, and I’ll take full responsibility. I’m not going to let you do the paperwork for bending a few rules.” He was firm in his stance, not wanting to drag you into the mess of administrative fallout.

But of course you didn’t back down. “Arguing with me is a waste of time, partner. Let me do the paperwork. We both know if you let me handle it, you’ll get out of here sooner.”

Before he could protest, you leaned in with a grin that hinted at something more. “And if you get out of here at a decent time, you, Haley, and Jack can come over for dinner. Pete’s been looking forward to meeting you two after all this time, and I’ve been dying to meet Jack.”

He froze for a moment, surprised by the invitation.

Dinner?

With you and Peter?

The thought had never crossed his mind, and yet, hearing you suggest it now sent a strange warmth through him. “Dinner? You never mentioned this.” he echoed, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

You smirked, crossing your arms. “Yes, Aaron. Dinner. Pete’s already planned it, and I figured using food was the best way to bribe you into giving me those reports.”

He chuckled, a warmth spreading through him at the thought of the invitation. “Dinner, huh? What’s on the menu?”

You gave him a smug look. “A few Mediterranean recipes I’ve been perfecting. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

He raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You’re not going to poison me, are you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ll never know unless you hurry up and let me help with those files.” The tension between you broke, and he shook his head, smiling. But before he could respond, you added, “Want to bet I can finish the paperwork faster than you?”

He leaned forward, his voice playful now, catching onto the game. “And what happens if I win? You’ve never beaten me in a bet before.”

You leaned in just a little closer as well, close enough for him to catch the soft, fading notes of your rose perfume, lingering faintly after a long day. There was a glint of mischief in your eyes as you matched his tone, voice low and teasing. “You tell me.”

Without missing a beat, Hotch's playful expression shifted, his eyes growing more serious, though there was a flicker of anticipation that softened the weight of what he was about to say. The words came out before he could second-guess himself, as if they'd been lying in wait, building with every shared glance, every passing moment between the two of you.

“If I win,” he said, his voice steady but laced with something deeper, something vulnerable, “you come back to the BAU. You work with me again, together.”

His heart thudded in his chest, each beat a reminder of the space you had left behind when you had gone, a void he had tried to fill but couldn’t.

He hadn't expected the words to feel so heavy once they were out in the open, hadn't realized how much he wanted you back, not just for the casework, but for the way you steadied him, the way you saw through the layers he kept so tightly wrapped around himself.

He watched your grin slowly fade, your eyes searching his as if you were weighing everything, and for a moment, he wondered if he'd pushed too far, revealed too much. But then he remembered the years you had spent together, the unspoken trust, the way you could read him just as easily as he could read you.

The silence stretched between you, thick with shared history and unspoken feelings, until finally, you broke it.

 “We’ll see, Aaron,” you said quietly, your eyes holding his. “We’ll see.”

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @cuddleprofiler ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @kyrathekiller ; @lorereid ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @prettybaby-reid

Dado's Corner pt.2: Here's a pic of Kuna the pine marten - aka Jack Hotchner's fav plush toy

[dovahkiin796]

Poppy Playtime: CH 3 (What-if)

John watches in horror as dozens upon dozens of the Mini–Smiling Critters he has been dealing with ever since he found himself in the Playhouse. Crawl out of the walls and toward the hanging DogDay. The giant version of the toy screams out in panic when seeing the little monsters.

"Leave me! Please! Save yourself!" Every fiber of John's being agreed with what the humanoid dog said. But John couldn't get his legs to move.

He was too caught up in the horrific sight to even twitch a finger. But eventually his brain screamed at him to go, and John responded.

Though instead of running away to get to safety. John fired a few flares at the Mini-Smiling Critters. Like the other times they reared back in fright at the bright fireball.

However, this time, not all of them were backing away. Some continued to crawl toward DogDay. Their feral nature being more powerful than their fear. So, with only one option left. John starts bashing away the plush toys with his GrabPack arms.

"What are you doing?!" Asked a confused DogDay. "I told you to leave me!" John ignored him and continued his assault. One of the Smiling Critters manages to get onto DogDay's head, and it seemed it was about to crawl into his head by his large, black eyes,

John stopped this from happening by actually using his own hand to grab it and then punch it in the face with his other hand by turning it into a fist. John heard a sickening crack, but he pressed on and threw the dead thing away.

In quick speed John was able to free the large dog from his straps and have his arms wrap around his neck for support. "You're a fool for doing this. You're going to get yourself killed."

John could only grin. If that was the case, then at least he died trying to save someone. The Mini-Smiling Critters, angry that their food supply was now free. All snarled in anger.

John didn't bother to wait and see what they'll do and ran back the way he came. But when trying to run through the cell doors, wooden planks that were put in place to cover a large hole in the floor. Collapsed by the combined wait of John and DogDay's.

They fell to a floor beneath the holding cells. Clearing his dazed head from the sudden fall. John sees an open tunnel. Up above he can hear the little Critters coming to where he and DogDay fell.

Wasting no time, he crouch runs down the tube till coming to another tunnel and taking it. It was series of running, taking sharps turns, running up ramps, waiting for shutter doors to open up, and taking a slide down. But eventually John spots their salvation. An elevator that was behind a gap that led to a bottomless pit.

Switching to the purple hand and with what little adrenaline he had left in him. John sprints toward the gap, "Hang on! This won't be an easy landing!" Just as his foot touches the purple hand pad. John fires the hand on it and both he and DogDay launch high in the air.

Fortunately for them they were able to make it. Though John ended up not sticking the landing. He lost his footing and fell to the ground. The giant Smiling Critter rolled off of him, only being stopped by the elevator railing.

Without his choice John's body happened to land on his side where his front would be facing the open doorway he just came through. He can see the horde coming for him and DogDay. He wasn't actually sure if they would make the jump or not. He prayed that they didn't. But he wouldn't be able to know as the shutter suddenly closed before any of them could even make the attempt.

From behind the door, he could hear the little beasts roar and snarl in absolute fury. Crashing their little bodies against the metal in hopes of breaking through it.

Though the door wasn't budging in the slightest. Letting out a much-needed sigh of relief. John turns to DogDay to see if he's alright. "Are you ok?" John asked. The Smiling Critter coughs a little before asking why he saved him. John was silent for a few seconds till saying. "Because this place already has enough death occur in it. It needs at least one life that was saved in these walls."

DogDay took a second to digest what he heard. He lets out a ragged snort. "You really are an Angel. Something this place really needs."

John snorts too. "By the way. The name is John." DogDay said the name sounded too generic and will continue to call him Angel. Rolling his eyes. John picks up DogDay and steps onto the elevator and pushes the button. The contraption heading upward that led them to another slide. With no other option they took it, and it actually took them outside the Playhouse.

"It's been so long since I've been outside. I honestly can't believe that I'm truly free." Said DogDay. "Well believe it, you'll no longer be someone's dinner."

After a phone call from Ollie and telling him what to do next. John first takes DogDay to the elevator where Kissy and Poppy were last seen using.

When reaching it John sees the elevator was still raised up. He calls out for either Poppy or Kissy to lower the elevator so DogDay can be safe with them.

For several long seconds he didn't get a reply back. He was worried that maybe they were no longer up there. But his worries were put to rest when he heard and saw the elevator descending.

The elevator finally reached the bottom and John rested DogDay against the railing. "I don't know about this. Can you trust them?" The Smiling Critter asked. A hint of worry in his voice.

Despite what DogDay said to him back at the Playplace about he and Poppy being the only ones to stop the Prototype. John doesn't blame him for it. For years he was at the mercy of toys who he thought were his friends. And after all those years, he's finally free, only be at the mercy to a different set of toys. John reassures him that that they'll keep him safe while he deals with CatNap.

Pressing the button so the elevator can go back up. DogDay says, "Please don't die, Angel. I don't want to lose any more friends in this place."

Promising he won't. John turns around and heads for the counselor's office to bring more power to the generator.