#sorry I just could not wait I had to see it it in action first

[bidisasterevankinard]

Hi, baby. For the short & impactful prompts: “I can’t do this” for BuckTommy if it sparks joy 😘

I said I will write angst so *throw this and run*:

“I-I can’t do this anymore,” Evan's voice finally breaks the uncomfortable silence that was like fog, enveloping the whole of Tommy's living room.

He couldn’t break it first. He hoped Evan wouldn’t do it. He expected their status quo to stay as it is. He should have known better really.

How could he expect it to be okay when he couldn’t even raise his eyes on Evan since the moment they left the bar? He felt this heavy as their turnout under pouring rain glance, but stayed sure of his actions. In the truck he played as the empty road was the busiest he’d ever seen. And here in his light with electronic candles in the living room, he couldn’t find anything better than his sushi.

Tommy’s sure he knows what Evan is talking about, but they promised to talk till they absolutely understood that both had the same conversation and conclusions.

“You can’t do what, baby?”

The fake smile, he sometimes puts without even trying to, breaks on his face, when he looks at Evan, but not on his face. He can’t. 

Looking at the way that beautiful face broke last time they broke up left him heartbroken. He can’t see it again. Not when he will hear the answer.

“I can’t date you in secret anymore,” Evan says and then gets up. 

Tommy keeps looking at the place where his, soon not his, again, Evan was just a fleeting moment ago.

The sigh from the window doesn’t even make him flinch. All his body shrinks and prepares for impact.

“I-I can date you in secret. Not like you made it feel today. You ended our first date when I no-homo you, when I kept you a secret, w-why should I endure the same and not leave you? I understood why you asked to move slower, I respect it. I respect and understand you asking me to keep it a secret from 118, from my sister, but Lucy? And ok, you-you want it to be a completely secret, then why ask me to come to the public space on friday? T-to a date night.”

Evan laughs. Tommy hears no real happiness that usually illuminates the whole room in it.

“You’ve could just bring me here or fuck me in that alley near the bar, and-and I’d felt less dirty when I did when my boyfriend to all the bar said ‘no, I’m not here with him, it’s just a coincidence’ and then went and flirted with a man right in front of me.”

The shame he felt in the bar returns. But Tommy couldn’t tell anyone. He couldn’t tell anyone he broke and running to the man who he swore was a bad idea.

The man who still is a bad idea, but is the best bad idea he ever had.

The thunderstorm rumbles outside. 

He should have put the truck in the garage, not leave it outside. The rain is too hard. 

“What are we doing here, Tommy?”

This time he doesn’t ask Evan to clarify. He doesn’t want to answer any questions.

“I-I told you I see a future and can wait for you to see it too and you promised you could see it with me, b-but you need time to believe it. Yet, every day I feel like I date a landmine. One wrong move and it will kill me.”

Evan comes and sits back, holding his face, forcing him to look at him.

He is red and the tears are flowing on his cheeks the same as the dots of the rain on his window.

“I-I love you, Tommy, but I’m not sure you really want me or need me. You don’t know how to see a life with me in it, how to plan it, and I-I just … I need to know that you are trying to learn to do it.”

Two big oceans with red shores look at him hopeful, but Tommy sees heartbreak in them too. As if despite all his hope Evan doesn’t believe Tommy will do something good.

He opens his mouth, no sounds come. 

Studying all his face, Evan nods to something, pecking his lips, forehead and joining their heads and breathing the air between them.

“I set you free from someone, who can’t ever move in the way you need, baby, I-I’m sorry. M-maybe eventually we'll be together at the right time. But it’s not today.”

Collecting his belongings, Evan gets up.

 “I’ll drive you home,” he gets up too, feeling the need to do something.

“No need,” Evan whispers with his back already to the door. “I called Uber,” he opens the door, stepping in the wet darkness that illuminates with the flashes, “I’ll see you around, Thomas.”

Prompts for short stories (bucktommy, platonic buddie and saltommy. Other pairs possible too. We can talk)

[mochimochimona]

Analyizing Viktor and Jayce from Arcane, S1 E5 Part Two - Am I ruining this ship for me or what

So Viktor being a genuis because he had "a vision" and just explains how runes and mages work and is that..foreshadowing again? Like how did he got these informations? It would have been nice to have a bit more context, because with that scene from the previous post I might get my tinfoil hat back. Anyway, Viktor is mansplaining Jayce and here is the first thing I noticed, the fond and admiring expression on Jayce's face:

Again, that can be completly platonic still. Am I ruining this ship for me now or what?

Viktors absolutly unfazed reaction makes me laugh so much, god I love this man.

But I think there was a first impulse of reaching out to Viktor, just a short tilt of his hand - to make sure Viktor is alright. And his Question "Are You Sure This is safe" was met by a rather cold "of course not" by Viktor and Jayce is reacting like that and I had to make a GIF out of this scene or else I can't explain what I mean.

So Jayce is staring at Viktor, and he feels guilt and I think he wants to say something but he is also unsure of what exactly to say, because he knows Viktor is right and also has the right to be cold towards Jayce, since he is leaving him alone. I think it dawns on him, unconsiously, that what he is doing is wrong and it's nagging at him. So far no interpretation from my side that Jayce is into Viktor the same way Viktor might be into him, though. I am on the way to ruin my delusion.

Mel is such a strong politican, I love her for her cunning way to get Jayce on her side and manipulating him. Again, Mel is one of my fav Chars in Arcane but I do think they don't have either an equal relationship, nor a deep one at that. It feels rather cold to me.

"You pushed this on me". I think it's nice to see he is struggling and not wanting this, but Mel is REALLY good. Girl you slay queen!

Here he looses his inner battle against playing the politican, the struggle was made so clear and was well portrayed, you could feel it!

Foreshadowing at it's best: "There's been quite the investements" - and Mel said "Indeed, better than expected" - Do you remember Jayce accusing Mel of treating him and Viktor as investements? ohhh what a nice foreshadowing! And here it is made clear that Mel is using Jayce for her own goals. Love myself a good, calculated politican!

Well he does look at Mel adoringly. This scene is also important. Because she makes a move on him, and he says "I couldn't have done it without you"

Wait, that actually makes me mad. He couldn't have done SHIT without Viktor. You asshole, Jayce!

And now comes the most heartwrenching scene I have ever seen in my live. Given the feeling of me that Viktor has feelings for Jayce (we can argue which, can't we?) making the deliberate choice to show us Jayce and Mel doing bed gymnastics (sorry I am german, it's a way of saying here lol) and parrallel Viktor collapsing? This is INTENTIONAL. They wanted us to show what Jayce chose and did not choose. What would have been important and what shouldn't have been important. It is quite the foreshadowing, too, because Jayce will regret his actions - which is a topic on it's own.

The fact, that they put Sky in this scene makes it even more obvious or sus, as you may say, because if you wanted to show us that Jayce did choose poorly it would have been enough to show Viktor alone in his study the whole time, and not with Sky approaching and making moves onto Viktor.

Foreshadowing again with Sky saying "There is always tomorrow, right". rip haha.

Viktor is comepletly uninterested in her, romantically speaking. I think it's not because he doesn't get her advances. I think saying her name "goodnight luisanne(?)" makes it clear they do have some kind of relationship. Her implying "again" makes me think she asked many times and this wording from Viktor is his attempt of being polite and respectful, but drawing boundaries for himself.

Him getting angry, throwing the papers around is a stark contrast to his usual composed nature, I think it's a nice way to show how deperate he is because he KNOWS he doesn't have much time anymore. He gets fainty again and hears voices and sounds, which is again really interesting because there is no shimmer corruption in this situation. So what is that sound? Who is it? IS IT HIMSELF?

Again he coughes blood and I think there are two different kinds of runes in this: the one without the corruption of the void/shimmer and the one with, which is making him go bonkers I guess. Because I have the feeling the old Viktor is actually a mage and using only the runes, not the void. Which doesn't make it any less dangerous but you get what I am saying. I hope.

Him going down and fast cut to Mel and Jayce, who are making out WITH A GALAXY BACKGROUND?????? Wait what AM I SEEING. This is deliberate, intentional again, I don't think the smashing is that good she sees stars lolkek.

Maybe I am interpreting way too much into it, but is that a parrallell to the scene in which Viktor and Jayce are connected in the astral plane (or whatever)? I am weezing.

Also what I do find interesting and I don't have an idea why they choose to frame it like this: The Hexcore absorbed Viktors blood and we can see it travel through it, kinda melting together with the hexcore-DNA while you see a sillouette of Mel (why not Jayce, am I asking?). I am not sure what to make out of that. It could be a metaphor for connection. Like Viktor connected to the hexcore and Mel with Jayce, but it was weird to not see more of Jayce, you know? like why were we so focused on Mel here? Is that a foreshadowing that Mel is a mage, but that won't make any sense to me. And I am asking, because I am here for discussion: Why using this cutting, this parallel scenes? Why do you show us this, anyway? You could have implied them having smash-time, but you intentionally put those two things next to each other. Did you wanted to make us angry because Jayce was hooking up but he should have been with Viktor the whole time! That's absolutly implying you think we think bros before hoes! But that's just a saying, I do think everyone goes for the hoe at some point (respectfully, of course). I am getting a headache, this scene made me mad honestly. I was so hurting for Viktor, he was so alone. And when Mel wakes up, she looks a bit pissed that Jayce is gone, honestly lmao. But not in a way like she is disappointing because she wanted to cuddle, but because I guess she thought she had Jayce by his balls or something (well she did).

The cut to Viktor laying on the hospital bed and Jayce shaking and whipping his leg IS A MASTERPIECE. And honestly, the feeling creeps in...like why do that cut? Why stay on Mel and transition to Viktor in the same camera angle. Do you want to tell us something? You could have done a camera angle from the side, showing us Jayce being panicky if you wanted to show us that, but we get this parallel. This is sus, not gonna lie.

So, @stardust-musings provided me a link with a deleted scene where Jayce was wiping away his crying, if you want to see that, here: https://www.tumblr.com/stardust-musings/767415218102059008?source=share

We discussed that Jayce definetly has a lot of affection for Viktor, which one can be argued with but I do think his reaction in general is really important here, though the crying wouldn't only have IMPLIED Viktor is really important to him but made it clear, because he had an open and really vulnerable reaction here. So with that in mind, his actions coming might him be struggling to find out what Viktor really is to him, because as stated above, this gives off mixed signals. I get you can cry about you "brother/hombie" being in a hospital and dying, given the deep relationship as friends. I think this shot is important to make it clear that the love is there, but what love can be interpreted still and Jayce is figuring it out himself.

And there it is, we have regret showing! Honestly, I do get why you chase to your best friend if he is in a hospital and you get the message. But guilt? Regret? Doubt? Panic? Devastation? Realtalk here because I think this is important: As someone who has had a lot of people in the hospital on the deathbed and so on, I don't think anyone will rush to their bro and leaving their spouse behind (and she didn't even know what was up), without like waking them up and telling them what's up, ya know. You may be panicing, but you are connected to your partner and I think you will share this information and trying to get comfort FIRST (not after you visited). So I would explain to my partner what's up and my partner would come visit with me, too, because I care for my friend but I also care for my spouse, ya know. Him leaving Mel who he slept with the night before because his friend was brought into hospital is really rushed and I think he has a deep connection with Viktor and cares about him a lot, so much so, that he doesn't care who he slept with, because he is more important. But I do think Jayce still is not in love with Viktor. Yet? But it makes no sense to leave Mel there, I mean she knows Viktor too and if you have a connection, you would at least wake her up. Even if it's in the middle of the night. So this is confusing, I have to think about it more. Your thoughts are appreciated. Also sorry for any misspellings, I am tired.

It makes sense he left Mel, because she would have seen him breaking down over his friend and maybe he didn't want to be vulnerable in fron of Mel and Viktor, because he tried to kept his panic together. But again, I find it interesting how they telled us this with these scenes. They wanted to imply, I am sure of it, the first time that Jayce always chooses Viktor. Which is, honestly, a love letter on it's own tbh.

That was Part Two, I will continue tomorrow! I am obsessed with this now lol

[ssreeder]

how are we feeling about the new netflix adaptation of avatar??!!!!!!!!!!!! the zuko casting eats and swolzai is so cool to see actually translated well (although we will see how they treat the characters in this)

HEYYYYYYOOOOO!

The only thing I’m really looking forward to from the live action is being able to gossip about it with my mutuals. I don’t really have any other opinion, I mean… it looks cool! (Sokkas hair & zukos scar bother me but ehhhh what can I do?) But I’m an animation junky, I love my anime and my cartoons (bobs burgers beloved) so I don't particularly care for the “real people actors” taking over my cartoons but I’m totally chill about it honestly.

I will ABSOLUTELY be watching it and probably will form a more solid opinion after I actually watch the show.

[loonylupinblack3]

Go Slow

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: SMUT! p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), riding, (brief) dry humping

Summary: it's your first time and Logan tries to go slow, he really does, but some things just can't be helped

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: i'm not too practiced in smut so sorry if it's shit 😭

Logan knew you were on the shy side of things. During the start of your relationship he’d had to coax words from you, feelings and opinions you held until you felt comfortable enough to share them without being asked. You’d be nervous and fidgety when asking to see him, acting like he was an attractive stranger when he was your boyfriend. 

In all honesty though Logan didn’t mind. He enjoyed your shy, almost naive personality, and was more than happy to wait for you to be comfortable with him before suggesting going any further. 

Sure, it was difficult for him to wait, but not impossible. If his pants tightened slightly when you walked in the room with ridiculously short shorts and practically sat in his lap with them, you didn’t notice. When you were sleeping in bed together and would unconsciously rub yourself against him, causing him to have to leave the bed for a bit lest he did something he'd regret, you remained blissfully unaware. And if he was putting away your laundry and came across a pair of lacy black panties with bows adorning it, you wouldn’t even notice they went missing.

Logan was more than okay to wait.

You, on the other hand, were not.

It started with small changes in you and your actions, though Logan couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. You were more flustered around him than usual, jumpier and shier than you’d been before. You were quieter too, staring at him with more intensity than before, as if trying to read his mind. Yet it wasn’t as if you were pulling away from him, because you were much more touchy and clingy than usual, always needing to hold him and often being the initiator of any make out session you two might have- which is as far as you’d gone.

It was during one of these sessions, having started when you both grew bored of the movie playing on the screen, that you started straddling Logan, kissing him with more fevor than you usually did. Surprised, though certainly not disappointed, Logan kissed you back, hands resting on your thighs and occasionally running up and down them when his control slipped.

When he felt you rock against him slightly he knew something was up. You were never this forward with him, and was always the one to stop Logan when he got a bit carried away. Yet there you were, gently rocking against him while you kissed, moving against his jeans almost desperately, rubbing against him until there was a rock hard bulge for you to move against and Logan had to gently push you off him.

Immediately you started apologising, looking at your hands nervously fidgeting with your t-shirt, refusing to so much as glance at Logan.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright Bub,” Logan said gently. “I just don’t want to do anything before talking about it first.”

You risked a glance at him, trying to find any lie in his face. “You’re not angry at me?”

Logan would have laughed if he wasn’t worried about upsetting you further. “‘Course not. I fucking loved that, actually, but we can’t do it, or anything like that, without talking about it first. I gotta make sure you’re okay with it.”

You nodded your head with such eagerness Logan’s cock twitched in his pants. “I’m okay with it.”

He smiled at your needy demeanour and had to hold himself back from gladly going along with it. “What exactly do you want, Sweetheart? I gotta know that.”

You bit your lips shyly, glancing up at him from your lashes in such a way Logan was tempted to be fucked with all of this and just take you. He’d been waiting for months, however, so he could certainly wait a few more minutes, and restrained himself as such.

“I want to feel good,” you mumbled quietly. “Want you to make me feel good.”

Oh fuck.

Logan wasn’t sure he could handle this. Desire was coursing through his veins, his cock was throbbing almost painfully against his pants as he watched you, shy and naive but so wanting for him.

“Alright Bub, we can do that,” he eventually said, because fuck he wanted to make you feel good too. He wanted you moaning and whimpering his name, whining and panting underneath him because of him.

Yet as soon as he had you undressed and under him he could tell it wasn’t what you wanted. You looked petrified, eyes squeezed shut as you waited for Logan to enter you, and that just wouldn’t do.

“I’m not doing this Sweetheart,” he said, moving away.

You opened your eyes, seeming both relieved and disappointed at the same time. “What? Why?”

Logan sighed, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing your neck. Even with both of you naked it was surprisingly not desire filled and simply comforting. “Because you obviously don’t want it.”

You shook your head and turned around to face him, straddling him in a similar position as before. “I do want it. Just… it felt a bit scary like that.”

Logan thought about her words for a moment before inspiration struck him. “Do you want to ride me instead?”

You actually gasped, your eyes widening at the suggestion, yet he could also see the desire radiating off of you- he could smell it too- and feel the slick coming from your cunt at the thought. He smirked, taking that as a yes.

“I’m going to lift you up and slowly place you down on me. You can stop me at any moment, okay?” he asked you, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with this.

You nodded your head, looking apprehensive but also excited, as you glanced down at his hard on, licking your lips slightly. “I don’t know if it will fit.”

Logan nearly groaned then and there. “It will.”

Hesitant but sure, you let Logan’s hands wrap around your waist and lift you up, positioning his cock at your entrance. He gave you a few seconds to back out, and when you didn’t, staring at him confidently, Logan sunk you down on his cock.

Fuck even just his tip inside you felt like heaven, your cunt squeezing against him. You let out a gasp and he hesitated, waiting, and you slowly nodded your head, giving him the go ahead to continue. He did so gently, making you take him inch by inch, stopping every so often for you to get used to the feeling of him until you’d finally taken all of him inside you.

The feeling of your walls squeezing his cock was heavenly. He could barely think, and all he wanted to do was fuck you hard and fast, chase the release he so desperately wanted. Yet he waited for it to feel comfortable for you, waiting for the pain to ease before he did anything.

“Okay… what now?” you asked in a timid voice.

Logan had to muffle the sound threatening to escape him at the sight of you blinking bashfully at him while he was inside you. It was too good to be true.

“Now you move,” Logan said roughly, because he didn’t trust himself to move and not fuck you viciously like he wanted to.

You thought for a moment before giving an experimental rock, gasping at the pleasure accompanying the action. You repeated the rock again, then again, creating a slow but sure movement that was slowly killing Logan.

Every sway of your hips, the way you rode his cock eagerly if not skillfully, was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it baby,” he rasped. “Just like that, you’re doing so good for me baby.”

You rolled your hips, whining at the praise and closing your eyes but only increasing your motions, one hand moving up to cup your breast. You grounded onto him, gasping when he hit that perfect spot, whispering Logan’s name like a prayer

He swore at the sight, and couldn’t help the jerk his hips made, a small gasp escaping you. It felt so good, the spike of pleasure overwhelming and your readily response too much, and he did it again.

You moaned this time, a dirty, high pitched sound that was ringing in Logan’s ears, urging him on as he took your hips in his hand and lifted you up, only to slam you down on his cock again. Your moan was delicious, and you placed both your hands on his chest, moving forward to make him go deeper.

Logan did groan this time, and used your hips to continue moving you on his dick, his large hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. You were a whining mess, eyes glazed and body limp above him.

“Feel so good,” Logan grunted, thrusting into you. “So fucking good for me.”

You whimpered, gasping as your eyes fluttered closed again. Logan grinned.

“You like that baby? You like me telling you what a good girl you’re being, riding my cock so prettily.”

Your moans came more frequent, panting every second, and Logan could tell you were close. He increased his pace, wanting to see you fall apart in front of him, and wasn’t disappointed by the result.

“Come on baby, cum for me.”

With a cry you threw your head back, ecstasy painting your face as you came, your walls tightening. The feeling of them squeezing Logan’s dick, your cunt milking it for all its worth was too much and he felt himself fall after you, his load of cum shooting into your already stuffed hole.

“Fuck baby,” he cursed, helping you ride out both your highs, moving your hips over him.

You were still panting as you slowly came down from your high, boneless as you laid against Logan’s chest.

“You did so good for me darling,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.

You let out a sound, nuzzling his neck, and he happily held you against him, pressing kisses to your face and neck till you were ready to move.

[martiniblues]

CUPIDS CHOKEHOLD , spencer reid

pairing boyfriend!spencer x fem!reader

synopsis you decide to visit spencer during his lunch break. unbeknownst to you, the team has been waiting for your arrival since they found out about you and spencer’s relationship.

genre fluff, reader is described with a cheugy/funky kind of style, and just overall teasing from the team lol.

standing in the mirrored elevator, you took in your appearance one last time. your patterned tights, babydoll dress, denim jacket, and colorful accessories were nothing out of the ordinary for you.  you took pride in your sense of fashion, not caring how others perceived you. 

spencer made it known to you almost daily how much he adored the way you styled yourself. your whimsical and girly attire added the perfect contrast to his “grandpa attire” as you liked to call it. 

returning your tube of lipgloss to its desired spot, you heard the faint ding of the elevator, alerting you of your arrival. you took a deep breath before walking up to the secretary at the counter. the building was sleek and shiny, only emphasizing your appearance. 

the brunette welcomed you, asking for your id before you heard your name being called by an all too familiar voice. “she’s with me; actually, no need to call in or anything.” spencer grabbed the visitors badge and clipped it to the pocket of your jacket before looking at you. 

“hey spence,” you giggled, adjusting his glasses that had gone askew from his evident rush to get to you. he blushed as you slid your hand to the side of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek softly. 

he grabbed your hand and led you into what you deemed to be the “bullpen” spencer had mentioned to you before. your boots clicked on the ground, muffled by the sounds of the bau. 

many workers turned and looked, unfamiliar with your presence and even more shocked that you were with spencer. he looked at you, noticing your wondering eyes. “it’s a little hectic right now, sorry.” he pulled you into his cubicle, already having a chair ready for you. 

“its actually really cool seeing this place for the first time. it really is like the tv shows.” he almost laughed at your childlike awe, reaching over to roll your chair closer to his own. satisfied with your positioning, spencer moved a few folders and notebooks from his desk to make room for your shared food. 

you could only get one bite in before a presence appeared behind you. “you invited mrs. genius here, and you didn’t tell anyone?” two hands came to grab spencer by his shoulders, causing him to jump slightly. 

the man smiled at you with possibly the whitest teeth you had ever seen. his broad shoulders, stature, and dark skin made him almost god-like. “morgan-“ spencer began before another head peaked around him.

“the woman, the myth, the legend!” the shorter blonde woman gasped, walking over to you. spinning your chair so that you were facing her entirely, her eyes lit up. “you are literally the cutest thing i have ever seen. boy wonder, why haven’t you brought her in sooner?” the nickname made you laugh, looking at spencer to see the embarrassed look on his face. 

“morgan and garcia, back off before you scare the poor girl away.” a dark-haired woman leaned against the desk behind you. soon after, another blonde and two older men crowed around you. 

they waited eagerly as spencer introduced you, looking between you two as if this were the best thing they had ever seen. “it’s nice to meet you all. spence has told me so much about you guys.” you rose from your seat, shaking their hands so as not to come off as unprofessional in such a serious building. 

even if it contradicted their previous actions…

“she even has a nickname for him, oh derek hold me before i pass out from the beauty of young love.” penelope held her hand to her heart, leaning into the man beside her as he rolled his eyes from her antics. 

“she was nearly this dramatic when she noticed the picture spencer put up of you on his desk.” rossi pointed at the item you had failed to notice as you arrived. 

tucked beside his computer, a small black and white photobooth strip stared back at you. memories of the early bits of your relationship flooded your mind.

you smiled lightly at the last panel, remembering how nervous you had been to kiss spencer on camera. he looked up at you, mirroring your expression.

the team continued to interrogate you, asking about where the two of you met, your first date, who asked out who first, almost as if they were profiling you. 

spencer sighed at the realization, clearly annoyed at your alone time being interrupted. you noticed, sitting back down beside him and looking at him to reassure him that you were fine. 

“glad to see she really likes him and wasn’t paid.” emily nodded towards spencer’s cheek. a light pink kiss mark adorned his skin, making the rest of the team snicker before he wiped it off with the back of his hand. 

“are you guys trying to scare her away?” spencer whined, feeling like a boy introducing his first girlfriend to his embarrassing family. 

“come on, reid, we’re only messing with you.” jj perched her hand on her hip, smiling at you warmly. “we’ll let you guys be for now, but don’t leave too soon. we have to give her a tour!” penelope insisted, turning to the group as they all shook their heads in agreement. 

“that’d be nice, thank you.” you replied before turning back to your boyfriend. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.” spencer mumbled, leaning into your side.

you ruffled his hair, “i see why you talk about them so much. they clearly care about you a lot.” you looked over your shoulder, catching them spying from one of the conference rooms. 

smirking you turned back to spencer, kissing his cheek once more before you continued to eat and talk about what you’d plan to do after he got off work. 

after you finished your mostly uninterrupted lunch, you were swept away by penelope as she gave you your promised tour. showing you everyone’s office, the break room, multiple conference rooms, and even the dingy locker room in the very back.

after one tight hug from morgan, a promise for a girls night from penelope, some teasing from jj and emily, and more typical goodbyes from hotch and rossi, you were finally walking back to your car.

you expected spencer to just walk you back to the elevator, but your face quickly lit up when he stepped inside, pulling you flush against him and pressing a button to make the doors close.

“finally have you alone.” he mumbled before crashing his lips to yours. you gasped at his sudden boldness, highly due to the lack of curious eyes, and moved your hands to rest behind his neck.

his hands went under your jacket, yearning to be close to you but having enough sense to not pull anything too risky. “i’ve been wanting to do that since you’ve got here.” he pulled away shortly before the ding of the elevator announced your arrival.

you just grabbed his hand and pulled him along side you. “they were really sweet, spence. i’m happy you work with people that are so much like a family.” as you made it to your car you turned around, your back leaning against your trunk as spencer came to stand in-front of you.

“they’re nosey like one, for sure.” he joked, bringing his hand to rest on your hip once again. you sighed before reaching up to kiss him one last time. “i’ll see you tonight.” you promised, squeezing his hand before it left yours in his return to work.

before you got in your car, you turned around looking up to see six familiar faces looking right back at you.

just something i thought of off a whim because i saw an edit of the bau to 400 lux by lorde and got SOOOOO emotional. like thats my family fr!!!! hope you enjoyed<333

[sleepyjuice]

toxic!rafe will blow your phone up the second you post something on instagram that he’s ‘iffy’ about.

you posted a photo dump which consisted of some random photos of the beach, some of your friends, one of you and rafe of course, but the one that had rafe seeing red was the last slide, which was you in a bikini. he texted you several times at first, and while you were literally typing your response, he called you. your fingers were typing so fast to respond to him that you accidentally declined the call, and he did not like that. you immediately went to call him back, but another text from rafe rolled in, saying ‘fuck you don’t talk to me we’re done’ you sighed loudly, knowing damn well he was talking out of his ass right now, so you sat back and waited for the inevitable next string of texts to roll in. which they did, only seconds later.

rafe <3: do you get off on making me mad or something

rafe <3: like i’m racking my brain trying to understand why you do the things you do and that’s all i can come up with

rafe <3: and i see at least 4 guys have already liked your post like that’s crazy to me?? thought i told you to block all the guys that followed you?? of course you didn’t

rafe <3: also who even took that pic of you??? bc i know damn well it wasn’t me so who the fuck you posing for with your fucking ass and tits out? WHAT THE FUCK

rafe <3: DO NOT PUT YOUR SHIT ON DO NOT DISTURB answer me rn.

rafe <3: nah it’s cool actually i’m gonna go hit up my other gfs so you have a good night.

you rolled your eyes at that last text, deciding to fully turn your phone off. you knew he would likely try to text or call you again very soon but you didn’t want to deal with it right now. this wasn’t your first rodeo, you knew nothing you could say to him right now would calm him down, so letting him freak out on his own was the best method to his madness.

three hours had passed since you turned your phone off. you had caught up on some reading and turned on your current favorite show, but found yourself interrupted by a knock at your front door. you expected it to be rafe, but instead it was a large bouquet of your favorite flowers and a gift bag. you glanced around to see if rafe was lurking around, but saw nothing. when he freaked out over text and was able to reread his actions, he usually waited a bit longer to show his face as opposed to a verbal argument.

you brought the flowers inside and set them on the counter before grabbing the card attached to the side of the bouquet.

sorry we argued. you are so beautiful and i love you so much. got you a little gift and sent you some money for food and i set your appointment with your nail girl for tomorrow at 10. love you forever baby -rafe

you couldn’t help but smile just a little. the flowers were beautiful and the note was pretty sweet, so you chose to ignore the part where he said ‘we argued.’ you didn’t get a word in, but you let it slide. especially after you opened the gift bag to see the new dior bag you had been wanting.

you hurried to turn on your phone, immediately seeing a $500 apple payment from rafe as well as a new text from a few minutes ago.

rafe <3: hope you like the flowers and bag baby. love you! :)

you: i love them. thanks rafe, love you too

rafe <3: good to hear. lmk what you end up getting for dinner and i’ll pick you up tomorrow to take you to your nail apt. can’t wait to see you baby

you would order yourself dinner that was obviously way less than $500, but you would send rafe a picture and thank him again. you’d facetime him before bed and conversation flowed like nothing had even happened just hours before. he’d ask you what color nails you were getting, tell you funny stories about the old men at the country club and excitedly plan what you two were going to do the next day. the cycle seemed like it would never end, but you often forgot about the bad when he was talking so sweetly to you and all you could think about was how excited you were to see him tomorrow.

[emmyrosee]

You went to bed before Kiyoomi.

You never do that. Ever since you’ve moved in with him, your nights end with a massive pile of cuddling limbs and sweet words of sticky nothings that have you cocooned and ready for a peaceful night.

But tonight, he snapped at you. Something about being too “irate” over “something small.”

He missed dinner. And normally, that wouldn’t be a massive issue for you. But he was with asshole of a PR member who’s been trying to get with him for months, calling themselves his “work babe.” Who were you to think nothing funny wasn’t going down?

It's not a lack of trust from Kiyoomi that has you choked up. It's a lack of trust with them.

You know more than anyone when kindness turns to love, it's the same thing that happened between you both, and it kills you to think they could preform the same spell and potentially take your man from you.

You tell yourself that if they can take him, they can have him.

But the idea hurts none the less.

It hurts enough where you're curled up on your side of the bed, far from Kiyoomi's, where his smell lingers and the coldness on your body isn't offset by his warmth like it usually is. You whimper and bury your face in the meat of your pillow when you hear the front door open, and a soft call of your name follows. You didn't even know he left, to be frank, but you don't say anything as he stalks into the bedroom with another call of your name.

"Are you awake?"

"Am now," you murmur.

"Can we please talk about things?" He sounds desperate, like he knows this is killing you, weighing you down like a sac of bricks and keeping you from him.

"You talk," you say, nodding into your pillow. "I have nothing to say."

"Okay. I understand."

A muscular arm reaches over your frame to reach for your hand, and when you don't put up a fight to keep his hand away, he sighs shakily.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, linking his pinkie finger with yours. You screw your eyes shut and sniffle, and you hear him swallow thickly. “I was just so upset to know that you were right to worry-“

“What?”

“Wait- No!” He says quickly, panic in his voice. “No, wait, that’s not what I meant.” He’s never been good with his words. You let him continue, your heart sinking into your stomach all the same. He sighs shakily, “I meant that you were right about me being here. I should’ve been. We haven’t had dinner together in weeks, and I just… I got so caught up in new sponsorships and gigs that I wanted more, and I thought they had more to give.”

“They want you, Kiyoomi,” you mumble. “I see it. It’s the same way I bugged you when we first started dating, just to show how much I liked you. They’re doing that.”

“I know,” he sighs. Then, he pauses, squeezing your pinky, “I went to talk to them. Told them if they couldn't keep it professional and cut the shit, they can search for other clients. Because I don't want them making either of us uncomfortable anymore. And even if they did want me, I don't care.” He crawls over to you and bends slightly to have his head dangling in front of you, curls flipping upside down at the action. “Because I want you.”

You snort at the sight.

“So can we please cuddle, and you grab my teeth or sniff me or whatever feral thing you usually do?” He asks, leaning forward to kiss you on the nose. “Miss your stupid affections.”

“I miss giving them to you,” you say, moving a finger up slowly to try and pick his nose, just to make him squirm, a sign of a truce. He grunts and whips his head back, letting your laughter fill the room, rather than your tears. When you feel him sit back on his side of the bed, you take your time in flipping over, finally meeting his dark eyes again, filled with hope and adoration that has you falling in love with him all over again.

"You are irresistible," you say, reaching for his hand again.

"Don't care. I don't want anyone looking at me if it means you and I never fight again."

You laugh and gently kiss his hand, flicking your gaze up at him, "we'll go look at paper bags for you to wear this weekend."

He removes his hand from yours to gently cup your cheek, thumb stroking over the swells lovingly.

"It's a date."

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Six

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Seven ☁️ Part Eight

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Sorry it took so long. I just haven’t been satisfied with this, but I think I just need to bite the bullet and let it go. I’ve had this in the drafts for a while and have edited it three times.

A/N: I think I might focus on some blurbs. Or, if y’all want, y’all can submit ideas for what Smalltown is gonna be like. I gotta write down a general background for Reader’s childhood there. I have a plan, but wouldn’t mind y’all toss some ideas on to the pile.

A/N: Thank you 🐑 Anon for the happy birthday wishes!

Warning: Kidnapping, Hostage Situation for Reader, Guns, Violence, Death, Yandere Behavior and themes

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

After the initially panic and dread of being kidnapped settles into Reader’s bones, they’re quickly brought to the Iceberg Lounge. Where a Penguin waits to discuss the details of their ransom with them. He’s kidnapped a Wayne or two over the years, but with how well hidden the family has kept their newest member he might as well scope them out and see if he can make a pretty penny from ransoming them. Give them a proper Gotham introduction.

When Penguin finally has Reader he wrongly expects typical Gotham high society behavior. Threats, insult, bargaining, begging, bribing, hell, even crying. But, Reader, even while terrified, keeps being polite. Referring to him as Mr. Penguin, Sir, and saying please and thank you, while doing exactly what they’re told. Honestly, Reader’s more polite and respectful than half his goons and his own goddamn children. Such a damn shame they couldn’t have been his brat.

So he chats with them. Just for a bit.

How does Reader like Gotham? Who’s their favorite bat brat? What’s their favorite food? How much money did your Momma and Daddy leave you? Just friendly get-to-know you questions to help with the nerves. No need to worry. Everyone’s a bit scared during their first kidnapping. But, do they usually live past the first one, sir? Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t ya? You’ll have to be careful with that.

It’s all quite tense for Reader, just sitting in an empty club with a dangerous man. That is, until word comes in that Bruce Wayne is paying the ransom in full. Apparently, it made Gotham headlines. The newest Wayne kidnapped. It’s all over the News, nearly every channel. Yet, Reader notices something. Why don’t they show my face, sir? It’s because this isn’t going to be your last time getting kidnapped. You’re in Gotham, baby bird. We’re all hostages in this city. How sweet of them to try to protect you from it.

It isn’t long after that, when the lounge gets visitor before the ransom money could even be dropped off.

Red Hood.

One of the Bat Brats, as Penguin calls him. His arrival raising Cain. Rubber bullets and real ones flying everywhere. Penguin gets a hold of Reader, rest his umbrella gun to their temple. Come now, Red. Don’t make me blow their pretty little head off. I’m actually fond of this one. Best of the Wayne bunch, in my not-so-humble opinion.

And, in one of the few times since becoming Red Hood, Jason hesitates. Because if he fails, if Reader gets hurt like he did, he’ll probably burn Gotham to the ground. It’s not an option. He can’t, he won’t, and he will not allow it. And, that thought, is at the forefront of his mind as he looks at Reader’s terrified face with a gun pointed at their head.

The pause, however, is noticeable. Not just to Reader, but to Penguin as well. A sign of weakness or a sign of something more foreboding. It last for a brief moment. Then Red Hood is back in action. Only, in that single moment, a decision was made. A dark decision. Something that had been healed and supposedly buried.

Batman had always fostered the importance of preparedness in them. So, of course, Jason had a magazine of live bullets ready to go for an emergency. And, this was a fucking emergency. Who cares about a few goons? And Penguin fucking deserves it.

Bruce will understand this time. How sad is it that he does?

Penguin barely escapes, with only a handful of his men still breathing and a few bullets in his shoulder, but he lives. Along with the information that the newest Wayne brat is precious enough to a Bat Brat to break the no-kill code again. Though, that might in itself become a problem for Gotham. Once again, Gotham will baptized in blood. Only, the sins are still growing under the red water. Perhaps, this time Gotham will drown in it instead.

Jason grabs a shaking and terrified Reader while leaving the lounge filled with bodies. He’ll take care of it later. Right now he needs to get Reader back to the manor, or somewhere anywhere safe. Away from Gotham, away from its criminals, and, most of all, away from him.

For a moment he had been… enraptured when he saw how scared his precious Reader looked with a gun to their head. How they looked at him with such a pitiful pleading expression. The way the shook and quaked. How fucking big their eyes got in fear.

Reader kept looking at him with those same watery fearful eyes. Those shaking fingers. A tremble that they must be all the way down to their bones. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute. Cute.

He didn’t make it for before he snapped, grabbing Reader’s face to ask what they talked with Penguin about. What did he want from you? Why did you look so friendly with him? Don’t you know he’s a criminal. He’s dangerous. He just wants to see them cower like that again. Just once more.

It takes a long moment for him to calm down and pull himself away from terrifying Reader. Eventually, noticing an oncoming storm and realizing he had better get Reader somewhere safe and back to Bruce so he can go back and clean up the trash.

Jason leaves a throughly shaken and distraught Reader on the GCPD roof. Right next to a lit Bat Signal for a tired Jim Gordan to find.

Jim finds Reader in the storm, mildly despondent from the entire ordeal. After ushering them inside and trying to lightly question them, he makes a call to Bruce that Red Hood had rescued Reader and they the GCPD had them safe. Bruce, naturally , breaks all sorts of traffic laws to get to them when he hears the concerned tone in Jim’s voice.

Reader, exhausted from the days events and shock, falls asleep in one of the spare chairs in the GCPD building. Bruce practically melts in relief when he finds them, picking them up and gently loading them in his car. NOT A DAMN TRUCK. To take them back home. Most of the GCPD find the gesture touching. What a sweet father he is. How lucky Reader is to have such a loving father.

Arriving home, Bruce puts Reader to bed, and makes sure Alfred is on stand by to comfort them and see to their every need. Watch them. Let me know if there’s even the slightest sign of a nightmare.

After taking a moment to let his eyes linger on a sleeping Reader, he heads down into the Batcave. Calling the family together for a meeting.

Stephanie is distraught. It’s her fault Reader got taken, all her fault. She shouldn’t have left them alone. She should have been right there be their side the entire time. At every moment and got every second.

And, Bruce, with deceptively calm yet devastating words, confirms just as much.

Surprisingly, there’s no shouting. No disagreements. Not from Stephanie, and certainly not from any one else. Just the cold realization that it was her fault Reader was nearly hurt and the solemn acceptance of it. They were supposed to have a chance to get close. Stephane won’t ever let it happen again. She’ll always be close from now on. In every way she can. Even if she’s not worthy.

Jason having gone back to clean up his mess before reporting back to Bruce and the others had more startling news. No one mentions a thing when they see the blood on him. Nor the empty magazines. Nor that familiar look in his eyes that reminds them of when he first came back. Someone had torched the Iceberg Lounge before he got back. Penguin is still running free, but the lounge is up in fire and smoke.

He did manage to see a figure leaving when he finally saw past the flames.

A Talon.

The Court of the Owls was active once more.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

With the whole Kidnapping thing and the Court being active again despite its previous destruction, Reader’s life went on completely lockdown. They aren’t allowed to go into Gotham at all. Not that they wanted to. The only reason Bruce didn’t just unenrolled them from Gotham Academy is because Damian, Cassandra, and Duke vow to watch them closely and report everything back to him.

Alfred, from then on, drives them all to and from school. Leading to quiet, bordering awkward, mornings and afternoons.

After the whole ordeal with Penguin and Red Hood, Reader is ninety percent certain the family is Gotham’s Bat vigilantes. Mainly due to the fact that Red Hood reminded Reader eerily of how Jason acted to be around them. Luckily, he barely managed to hold himself back. But, it was clear, enjoyed their fear and wanted to scare them. The whole situation resulted in Reader’s momentarily loss of control.

It also didn’t help that everyone seemed to disappear now.

Sure, Reader rides to school with Cassandra and Duke everyday. Damian is also there, but he just silently watches them with those poisonous green eyes of his. The three of them now hovering in the distance down the back of Reader’s neck. Nevertheless, as soon as they were all back in the Manor, the place becomes like a ghosttown. Even Alfred disappears for hours on end now.

Reader rightful assumes it’s more Bat work. But, there’s no one there to talk about how the incident made them feel. To help them verbally process the ordeal. It hurts.

What hurt the most, however, was Stephanie avoiding them.

Now, if Stephanie had just given them even an empty excuse and left the room it probably wouldn’t have hurt so much. But, to watch the blood drain from Stephanie’s face at the sight of Reader and then physically run away from them was offensive and down right painful.

Then there’s the additional fact that, coincidentally, Jason starts showing back up at the manor. Undoubtedly, helping the others with whatever they’re doing in the library. But, Reader sees him as more often as they pace the empty halls of the manor. And, that hysterical gleam in his eyes reminds them of that night they were rescued.

Tim has been like a ghost since the beginning of Reader’s stay. Every time Reader seems to make progress befriending him, he disappears. Only to reappear and act like nothing happened. Unnaturally, he acts like they’re somehow even closer than before. Each and every time. Like he’s never let Reader alone. Ever. Like he’s always been there watching. And, then he disappears, again and again. Only staying for brief moments.

Barbara is just a thought in Reader’s mind. Reader has seen more of Jim Gordon, her father, than Barbara in the recent weeks.

Mr. Gordon had been wanting to check in on them after the incident and ask them a few questions on what happened that night at the Iceberg Lounge. He was quite gentle in his interrogation, if you could call it that. Barbara had told him Reader wasn’t used to Gotham’s madness and must be treated gently.

Not to say Barbara isn’t checking on Reader. Tim’s not the only on constantly checking the manor cameras as Reader paces.

Dick was like a stray wind. Blowing through the manor, knocking Reader over with the shower of affection then disappearing again. To the library. To Buldhaven. To the ends of the world and back for all they knew. Unfortunately, Reader was growing desperate for any sense of comfort and would cling to him when he came. You have no idea how happy that made him. It was so cute how sad Reader was when he left now. How nice it felt to be needed.

Bruce was different, though. After the incident, he somehow managed to find a way to suffocate Reader with his presence without even being in it for long. Appearing at random to just watch them before disappearing again. Nothing was ever said. He just watched them then vanished.

Reader dreads having to bring up the whole incident with Penguin and Red Hood to Nana. They don’t want to cause anyone back home to worry. Besides, it’ll just remind everyone about that incident a few years back. The one that Reader does everything to forget about. The incident that would probably change a few things for better or for worse. For the family and for Gotham.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Yeah, Penguin lives. But, for a reason. Don’t get mad, please. (I did research and found out he was basically Yandere for his mother and killed his father and brothers to have all her attention for himself. And, he has children. 👀)

A/N: Also, reader’s getting some mild tragic backstory. It’s the DC universe. Everything’s gotta have a bit of bitterness. It’s all for the plot.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Taglist:

@starsdotalk @sleepyghoster @maicenitas @box-of-kinderjoy @yandereheros @skwunkler @cl0esblogg @delias-stuff @rosecentury

[ssa-dado]

I could totally see Aaron being jealous. Maybe a oneshot of her meeting Sean Hotchner for the first time.

Covering Up - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: fluff Summary: You’re late, and while Gideon’s passive-aggressive remarks are expected, it’s Hotch who really has you on edge. But it’s not just his authority; it’s the way you inadvertently caught the attention of Hotch’s brother, Sean. Warnings: None, just wanted to clarify the story is set around late 1998 or early 1999, before Hotch became Unit Chief (Gideon was in charge instead). Word Count: 3k Dado's Corner: You didn't see this coming, did you? Something cute to celebrate the end of the year. Sorry it took so much to respond, I totally forgot about this ask... hope you like itttttt. Again, HOTCH IN LOOOOOOOVE but doesn't want to admit hahaha what a fool.

masterlist

You were late today. Remarkably late.

For the first time ever in your life.

And while the idea of Gideon giving you one of his passive-aggressive “I’m not mad, just disappointed” speeches wasn’t exactly fun, there was one person who truly terrified you in this situation.

Hotch.

How ironic: it wasn’t your boss you were afraid of - it was your fussy coworker. The same coworker whose desk, unfortunately, happened to sit right in front of yours.

Perfect.

You were still trying to salvage your dignity in the elevator, jabbing at the elevator button, fumbling with your hair as the doors closed. Maybe an updo would make you look less… late. But by the time you reached your floor, the mess you’d made felt more “distressed damsel” than “competent federal agent.”

So, naturally, you made the split-second decision to undo the whole thing, pulling your hair loose halfway to your desk.

You winced.

Not because anyone was watching - everyone seemed too absorbed in their own work - but because if someone had been looking, you’d have perfectly executed that clichéd, overly dramatic hair flip straight out of a low-budget action movie.

The kind made by men, for men.

The ones where the femme fatale struts into the room, stiletto heels clicking, hair whipping in slow motion, cleavage doing all the talking, her entire existence engineered for the male gaze.

And here you were. No stilettos. No slow motion. Just… the hair flip.

Fantastic.

You shook it off, hoping to slink to your desk unnoticed, now more focused to brace yourself for the silent judgement of-

A man.

Not the man you expected - Hotch.

An actual man, a somehow handsome man.

Oh God. He’d definitely seen you do the dramatic hair flip.

His smirk confirmed it - no need for a profiler to figure that one out.

A man, sitting comfortably in Hotch’s chair. And, notably, no Hotch in sight.

“Are you here for a consultation with Agent Hotchner?” you asked, doing your best to sound at least professional as you set your bag down.

He chuckled – like you were the punchline of some inside joke you weren’t in on. “Actually, yes.”

Though you couldn’t help but study him... it was in your nature afterall.

He was about Hotch’s height, blond, blue-eyed, and generically good-looking in a way that probably gave him the nerve to sit at an agent’s desk without any kind of second thought.

But what really stood out? He looked about your age.

Very early twenties - which, mathematically speaking, made him way too young to be here asking for a consultation.

Not that you were one to talk. You were constantly reminded you were “too young” to be working for the FBI. So, at least you had that in common.

“Agent Y/L/N,” he read from your badge, dragging out the syllables for some of his twisted reasons you chose to ignore. Then he smirked. “You’re young.”

“She is.” Hotch’s voice cut through the air before you could form a response, making you startle slightly. He was suddenly there, right behind you, like he’d materialized out of thin air.

“Sean,” he said, his tone clipped in that uniquely Hotch way that made you feel guilty even if you’d done nothing wrong, “I told you to wait for me outside.”

“And why are you so late?” Hotch added, his focus snapping to you with laser precision, his brows drawing together in that way that made your stomach twist in both irritation and… something else.

Classic Aaron Hotchner.

Two seconds on the scene, already cataloging what annoyed him. Efficiency at its finest.

“Damn, Aaron, relax. It’s barely been a minute,” Sean said, standing up finally, though not without flinching slightly under the weight of Hotch’s glare.

He stepped closer to you, extending a hand like he wasn’t about to be vaporized by the man’s disapproval. “I’m Sean, by the way. I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

Before you could decide whether to shake his hand or politely tell him to run for cover, Hotch’s voice sliced through the air, as sharp and unyielding as ever. “No, you haven’t. Y/N, this is Sean, my brother. Sean, this is Agent Y/L/N, my partner.”

It took approximately two seconds after those words left his mouth for Hotch to realize he’d made not one but two rookie mistakes.

The first? The fact that, for some reason, you got to be “Y/N” while Sean - his brother - was firmly stuck with Agent Y/L/N.

A seemingly innocuous choice, but an interesting one.

Almost as if Hotch didn’t want Sean to forget who you were. Or worse, as if he wanted to keep that small, intimate privilege - using your first name - exclusively for himself.

And why?

Perhaps because, whether he admitted it or not, you’d managed to take up residence in his overworked brain. You weren’t just his colleague - you were his very own walking, talking paradox.

Equal parts intellect and quick wit, you could quote anything from your beloved dead philosophers as easily as you could dismantle someone’s argument with a single sarcastic comment.

You lingered, persistently, in his thoughts - too vividly, too often - so much so that you’d even started showing up in his dreams.

That might explain why his tongue betrayed him now - a slip you would undoubtedly label as ‘textbook Freudian.’

Somehow, through the cracks in the armor of the man who prided himself on control and precision, a truth he had no business acknowledging had leaked out.

Because, inexplicably and irreversibly, he’d just let his younger brother - of all people - catch the faintest glimpse of something he refused to admit even to himself: that he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you.

Not that Sean picked up on it - yet.

No, Sean’s focus was already drifting toward his second mistake, the one Hotch really hoped would keep Sean too distracted to notice the first. And, to Hotch’s silent horror, it worked like a charm.

“Partner?” Sean repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are the two of you…?” He let the insinuation hang, his expression a mix of confusion and amusement.

Because here’s the thing - thanks to the way Hotch had worded it, Sean wasn’t just thinking that his big brother was casually sleeping with you. Oh no, this was way bigger.

This was Sean, standing here wide-eyed and completely convinced that his older, emotionally constipated, miserably single brother - who’d spent years brooding after his breakup Haley - had somehow not only managed to get a girlfriend but had kept it a secret.

And worse? That this whole scenario meant Hotch was maybe, just maybe, a little happy these days.

That alone was enough to blow Sean’s mind.

But before his imagination could run too far, you stepped in, your voice sharp and immediate. “God, no,” you blurted, practically recoiling from the suggestion.

“No,” Hotch said at the same time, though in stark contrast to your reaction, his was flat and unbothered.

Sean chuckled at your synchronized denial, which only prompted Hotch to fix you with one of his looks - the kind that felt like it could peel layers off your soul. Judgy, silent, but impossibly loud at the same time.

The kind of look that made you curious.

“Was he like this as a kid,” you asked Sean, “or was he ever actually a normal person?”

Sean’s smirk widened. “The only difference between then and now is that now they pay him to act like this.”

You laughed, loud and genuine, and Sean joined in - a perfect snapshot of solidarity between two survivors of Hotch’s relentless Hotch-ness. “Though I have to wonder… maybe he misunderstood the government’s contributions as a green light to act this way. It’s kind of like when you teach a dog to stand on two legs for a treat, and then he just keeps doing it.” You commented.

You and Sean burst into laughter, your voices echoing through the bullpen, while Hotch just stood there.

Watching. Seething.

But not entirely for the reasons he’d expect.

Sure, he was irritated that you had the audacity to make fun of him within perfect earshot - a clear, deliberate payback for all the grief and micromanagement he’d put you through.

But there was something deeper beneath his discomfort, something far more unsettling.

It wasn’t just that you were laughing at him - it was that you were laughing with Sean.

That easy, effortless kind of laughter, the kind he so rarely managed to coax out of you. Sean, his little brother, was already pulling it out of you like it was the simplest thing in the world. Like he’d cracked some code Hotch didn’t even know existed.

And that stung. More than it should’ve.

Because as much as he told himself it was ridiculous - childish, even - he couldn’t shake the flicker of jealousy curling in his chest.

A low, unwelcome burn.

It wasn’t just about the laughter. It was the way you looked at Sean. The way you seemed curious, intrigued by him in a way that made Hotch feel like an outsider in his own space. Like he was standing just outside the circle, close enough to see but not close enough to touch.

And he hated that.

He hated how much it bothered him.

Hated that he cared at all.

Hated the fact that, for all his discipline and carefully crafted walls, you always managed to slip through the cracks.

Unnoticed until it was too late.

Though you weren’t quite as unnoticed by everyone else.

Standing on the mezzanine, there was Gideon, watching you with that unshakeable calm of his. His eyes locked onto yours, and before you could even catch your breath, he called you over to his office.

It was probably for showing up two full hours late, but who could say?

Panic was all over you, though you were certain you kept it well-hidden - at least, you hoped so.

But before you could second-guess yourself, Hotch, who had been silently observing everything, grabbed a file from his desk and walked toward you at a precise angle that turned his back to Gideon.

Then, in a blur of words, he started speaking faster than you thought possible.

“I covered for you,” he said, voice low and hurried. “Tell him you went to see your mom yesterday. You took the 5:07 a.m. train. It broke down in Baltimore - stuck for an hour and forty-two minutes. That’s why you’re late. It’s all fact checked. If he asks - and he probably won’t - you don’t have the ticket because after a 90-minute delay, the company offers a full reimbursement if you send in the original.”

Before you could process what he was saying, he thrust the file into your hands.

“I filled out all the interrogatory statements for the Arlington case. If he asks why I had them, say I’m an idiot and that you cracked the unsub before I did, so the paperwork fell to me.” His dark eyes bore into yours, and for the first time since you’d met him, he sounded almost…desperate. “Don’t panic.”

Your brain short-circuited. The only thing you managed was a breathless, “Thanks.”

He watched you go, tracking every step you took until you disappeared into Gideon’s office. His jaw tightened, his fingers twitching at his side like he was bracing himself to pull you out of trouble if it came to that.

Though Sean, ever the opportunist, broke the silence. “Since when do you cover for people?” he asked.

Hotch didn’t bother looking at him, his focus firmly fixed on the files in his hands, though his grip had tightened ever so slightly. “Since her boss called her in for something unfair. She’s the first - well, second - person to arrive every day and the last to leave. She works harder than anyone here, including me, and she never complains about it. It’s not fair to punish her for being late once when she’s the one who picks up everyone else’s slack. This is a one-time thing, and frankly, it’s probably for the best - at least she got some sleep for once.”

Was that an over-articulated answer to what was likely more of an exclamation than an actual question? Yes. But better to be thorough than shallow - or at least, that’s what Hotch told himself.

Sean, on the other hand, had no qualms about being a bit shallow.

“You’re sure that’s the reason she was late?” Sean asked, his tone dripping with faux innocence. “Not because she, you know…” He trailed off, tilting his head, the mischievous grin practically begging Hotch to take the bait.

No. Of course not.

Not that there would’ve been anything wrong with it. Not because he wanted to come off as paternalistic or prudish about it.

Hell, if you really did, he hoped it was… fine.

Great, even.

But then, there was that annoying, traitorous part of him whispering - shouting, really - that he hoped it wasn’t too good.

Or serious.

Or anything worth bringing up more than once.

Damn it, Hotchner, could he not just be a normal, well-adjusted adult and be happy for someone else’s happiness without making it weird? Apparently not.

Still, he needed to give an actual response. Out of the 600,000 words available in the English language, what did he choose? The most original, expressive, and earth-shattering one of all: “No.”

Of course, it probably came out sounding way too sharp, betraying every tightly-coiled emotion he was trying to keep hidden.

Luckily - or unluckily - Sean was too busy zeroing in on something else to even notice.

“So,” Sean began, dragging out the word, “she’s single.”

…it wasn’t even a question.

Hotch exhaled through his nose, his patience already wearing thin. “Yes.” He admitted. “But don’t think about it.” He stopped him, already knowing where this conversation would eventually go.

“Why not?” Sean asked, his smirk practically carved into his face now. “You like her?” The teasing lilt in his voice was impossible to miss, but beneath it, there was a flicker of genuine curiosity.

Yes. Absolutely.

More than liked.

Liked in a way that he thought about you far too often, in places he shouldn’t, and at times he didn’t have the luxury of indulging.

Liked in a way that made him occasionally catch himself smiling in the middle of a meeting because some stray thought of you had slipped past his defenses.

Liked in a way that he imagined you during his early-morning runs, wondering if you’d find the sunrise as breathtaking as he did - or if you’d roll your eyes at his choice of music.

You probably would, because it was either the original cast recording of whatever Broadway musical he’d recently become obsessed with, or something from The Beatles.

Not just their classics, but the deeper cuts - the kind his mom had played on repeat during her own Beatlemania phase back in the ’60s, which was, admittedly, a phenomenon he’d inherited in his own way.

He liked you in a way that felt ridiculous, really.

Like the time he caught himself wondering if you’d like the tie he was wearing, not that he’d ever admit he chose it with you in mind.

Or when he stayed up too late re-reading one of your old case reports, pretending it was for work when it was really just to admire how sharp and thoughtful your insights were.

But admitting that? Out loud?

To Sean, of all people?

He’d rather reorganize the mountain of case files sitting on your desk alphabetically and chronologically - twice.

“No,” Hotch said instead, his tone clipped and matter-of-fact. “I work with her, Sean.”

Sean wasn’t one to let things go easily - especially when he sensed he was onto something. “Okay, so you work with her,” he said, dragging out the words like they were some kind of weak excuse. “But that doesn’t explain why I can’t take a shot. What’s stopping me?”

Hotch’s jaw clenched as he shifted his attention back to the windows of Gideon’s office. He didn’t want to say it, but he also didn’t trust his brother to let the subject drop without some kind of deflection. “You’re not her type,” he said flatly.

Sean blinked, caught off guard for a moment before recovering with an incredulous laugh. “Not her type? How do you know what her type is?”

Hotch didn’t respond right away.

He didn’t need to.

The deadpan look he shot Sean over his shoulder was enough to say ‘I know her type because I know her’.

Sean, however, wasn’t deterred. “Okay, genius, enlighten me. What exactly is her type, then? Because I’m charming, good-looking, and - let’s not forget - single.” He motioned to himself like he was presenting the world’s greatest catch.

Hotch sighed. “Her type,” he began almost whispering, now suddenly afraid that someone would hear him, “is someone more serious. Someone who knows how to respect her work ethic, her intelligence, and the fact that she’s earned her place here. Someone who doesn’t think he can waltz in and-” He cut himself off, realizing he was veering dangerously close to sounding personal.

Too personal.

Too bad he stopped talking before he could drop the one crucial piece of information Sean probably needed to know: as far as Hotch knew, you only dated older... much older.

And him being the same age as you? Yeah, that definitely didn’t work in his favor.

Sean tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face. “So… basically, someone who isn’t me. But someone who is… maybe a little more like you?” He watched the way Hotch’s shoulders stiffened at the suggestion.

Hotch turned fully to face his brother, his expression dark. “Sean,” he warned, his voice a low rumble.

But Sean wasn’t fazed. “I’m just saying, Aaron. You’re standing here, going on about how she deserves someone serious and respectful and all that, but you’re practically describing yourself. So maybe the reason you don’t want me going after her is because-”

“That’s enough,” Hotch interrupted, his tone sharp enough to cut through any further teasing. “It’s not appropriate, and it’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Sean held up his hands in mock surrender, though his smirk stayed firmly in place. “Alright, alright. But for the record, you didn’t deny it.”

Hotch didn’t bother dignifying that with a response. Instead, he turned back toward the windows of Gideon’s office, his gaze locking on your profile once more.

Sean followed his brother’s line of sight, leaning closer “She really does have you all twisted up, doesn’t she?”

Hotch ignored him.

But as much as he wanted to pretend Sean was wrong, the burn in his chest told him otherwise.

Because 'twisted up' was probably an understatement for what you were doing to him.

---

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe24

[jlheon]

౨ৎ — who ru ? (lhs)

pairing. situationship! lee heeseung x fem! reader synopsis. enha try to figure you out genre. fluff & est. relationship at end wc. 2069 notes. ft. enhypen library.

none of heeseung’s members knew your name. 

which was ironic since they saw you nearly every day off they had. usually passing by heeseung’s slightly ajar door and taking a double take after seeing a female figure, then realizing it's just you, and wondering if you were heeseung's girl-friend or girlfriend.

they had grown used to your presence in the almost six months of you constantly around their home. yet nobody could ever figure out your name and who you were. 

despite running into you in the dorms multiple times none of the six had ever muttered anything more than a mere ‘hi’ or ‘sorry’ while passing. 

they always saw you around the dorms at least two times a week. though never once did they recall seeing you enter or leave. their eldest never brought you up, feeding into the idea you were some imaginary person.

heeseung was good at everything, including sneaking you in and out.

all of them being scared to say anything to you. acting like your identity was classified when they could just ask heeseung or you who you were.

but of course, riki loved to make anything and everything into a competition. 

after betting with his hyungs’ on who could figure out your name first, he spotted you in the house, residing in heeseung’s lap while he did some work on his computer. face buried in his neck while he typed away. 

riki camped out in the bathroom, with the door open, pretending to be cleaning the mirror. scrubbing the same corner repeatedly for almost ten minutes, waiting for you to use the bathroom. surely you would need to get up soon.

when he concluded that he couldn’t clean the mirror forever, he picked up his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. 

after brushing his teeth for a solid three minutes his plan was finally set into action. 

“hi riki,” you knocked on the open door. “how long do you need to brush your teeth for?”

“howdoyouknowmyname-” he spit out the toothpaste in shock. 

“riki, i’m here all the time,” you replied. “and you’re also a famous idol.”

“oh yeah..” he wiped his face with a towel from the counter. “why don’t i know your name though.”

“you’ve never asked,” you shrugged your shoulders at the younger boy covered in toothpaste. “do you mind if i wash my face, i think you’ve brushed your teeth thoroughly enough.”

“yeah of course,” riki set his toothbrush back in its holder and moved towards the door.

“you missed a spot by the way,” pointing to your chin to show where the toothpaste was left on him, lightly shutting the door.

riki’s plan had failed. 

the next to try and talk to you was jake.

he was confident that he could get your name out if you. maybe he’d even be good enough to figure out if you were heeseung’s girlfriend or not.

it was the day after riki had run into you in the bathroom. since it was their break before the long comeback season jake knew that you would probably be sleeping over. giving him the perfect opportunity to ask heeseung and you if you both wanted to eat ramen with him.

once the time on his phone read 11:15 he knocked on heeseung’s door.

“come in,”

“hi,” jake opened the door. “i was wondering if you wanted ramen, her too..”

this was perfect. surely heeseung would call you by name when he asked if you were hungry. everyone would owe him dinner for the week.

you and heeseung were on his bed. you cuddled up into his side while you both watched tiktoks on his phone. 

“baby are you hungry?” heeseung leaned down next to your ear. 

baby was not your name. jake frowned.

“no i’m okay hee,” you mumbled. “you can go eat though.”

he kissed your forehead before getting up from his bed to follow jake to the kitchen. 

jake’s plan had also failed, but the fact heeseung had called you a pet name gave him some idea that you weren't just a friend.

the uprise of interactions with the members confused you. they went from running away from you and avoiding looking at you every time you were within six feet of them to constantly seeking you and heeseung out. though it relieved you in a way since you were convinced that heeseung had strictly told them to act as if you didn't exist in the months you had spent together.

you and heeseung were in fact not an item, even though you both wished you were. you've known him since his nerdy bowl cut days in middle school, you weren't close before but after running into you years later that changed.

you knew that he had become an idol, it was hard not to notice when you saw his face on ads. never listening to his group but being able to recognize him if you were asked.

one day when you were on shift, at your then job as a barista at a small place. you had recognized him as you took his order. you didn't want to sound like an obsessed fan if he didn't remember you, so you simply bit your tongue the entire time. he had decided to tip you for bringing him his drink, which made you even more on edge when he left a stray napkin on his table with his number.

after that incident it was clear he recognized you from school, which was more worrying than relieving as he started to show up to your work even more.

eventually, his visiting you at work was not ideal anymore as he stuck out like a sore thumb with how tall he was paired with the black mask and sunglasses he never dared to take off.

alas, he had asked you to hangout somewhere else. now you no longer worked at that cafe and spent all of your free time off from classes being snuck into a kpop boy-group dorm to hang out with a boy who acted like your boyfriend but wasn't. awesome!

after your first encounters with riki and jake everyone followed after.

jay came in to ask if you had any allergies because he was making some lunch, again heeseung addressed you as anything but your real name.

two days later sunoo had sat down next to you on the living room couch and offered you a face mask. you nodded and you guys spent an hour together as heeseung and jay were gone filming for a variety show. right as sunoo was finally confident you guys were casual enough to ask you for your name heeseung walked in.

you jumped up from the couch making your way over and throwing yourself at him. holding onto him like a koala when he picked you up. he greeted sunoo, and brought you all the way to his room. shutting the door behind him.

you didn’t even get the chance to thank sunoo for hanging out with you.

within the same hour jungwon had barged into heeseung’s room, the door banging against the wall. 

“jungwon what the hell!” heeseung scolded, though keeping his voice at a whisper. “don’t you know to knock?”

“this is me exercising my leader privileges,” jungwon crossed his arms and fixed his posture.

“you could have woken her up..” heeseung stroked your hair, as you laid passed out on his chest.

“woken who up?” jungwon said mischievously, heeseung had to say your name now. 

“don’t act dumb, you can literally see her sleeping.” heeseung deadpanned. 

you started to shuffle in your sleep, beginning to wake up. 

“hee?” you grumbled. 

“it’s nothing, baby,” he answered. “just go back to sleep.”

heeseung sent jungwon a glare, shooing him out of the room. so much privacy for having only single room.

right when you thought it was over, it was finally sunghoon’s turn to figure you out. he contemplated creating a list of names that you kind of looked like and just shouting them throughout the house until you answered to one.

but after hearing jungwon explain how heeseung looked like he was about to chase him out of the dorm onto the street after he woke you up, sunghoon decided against his original idea.

he was sat on his bed for almost an hour thinking about what he could do. 

he concluded he should just be straightforward and ask you already. why hadn’t anyone else just asked you?

he let out a horrendous evil laugh that sunoo had given him a weird look for as sunghoon thought about how his plan was foolproof. he was about to be picking dinner every night for everyone.

sunghoon created a list in his head from what he gathered from all the other boys' failed attempts :

knock LIGHTLY on the door

make sure he is not interrupting anything

ask you NOT heeseung

get that free dinner

he waited for everyone to get to their rooms after dinner to make his way to the eldest’s room. you surely couldn’t have possibly fallen asleep yet as the sun had only just set. using his right hand, he softly knocked on the door. heeseung opened the door enough to show you sitting at his desk. 

“hoon?” heeseung questioned.

“i have a question.” sunghoon said firmly, keeping his chin up high, making himself look cocky in the process.

“shoot,” heeseung replied dryly, yawning at the end of his sentence.

“not for you,” sunghoon recalled the list floating around in his head, he pointed at you. “for her.”

overhearing their exchange, you took your attention away from the game you were playing on heeseung’s computer and spun the chair towards sunghoon. heeseung had no choice but to move aside and let the boy in as you had already taken note of his presence. 

“what’s your name? oh, and are you heeseung’s girlfriend?” he smiled, fist-bumping himself in his head as he finally did what the others couldn’t.

“i’m ____,” you grinned, finally happy someone had asked you directly like you and heeseung were hoping for. “i don’t know about the girlfriend part though.”

“____ i swear i was just about to talk to you about that soon-”

“i’m kidding hee!” you giggled. “i don’t understand why it took you guys so long, i’m always here.”

“i don’t know either,” heeseung agreed.  

“yeah right. you strictly told us not to look at her the first time jake caught her inside the dorm,” jay said as he walked into the room. 

one by one the rest of the group filtered into the room. sunghoon gives a whole speech about how he is truly the smartest and the first thing he wants for dinner is steak. which was nothing different from the usual but he was happy that he got to decide. the whole group talked for a few hours in heeseung’s bedroom.

once heeseung saw you yawn he quickly got up and ushered all the guys to get out as you were tired. while he was busy forcing riki to leave you collapsed on his bed and waited for him to join you.

“so girlfriend huh?” you teased as he climbed into the empty spot next to you. 

he scratched the back of his head with a nervous laugh before turning off the lamp on his bedside table. when the lights were off and you could barely make out each other's faces in the dark he spoke up.

“can i be your boyfriend?” he asked, his voice dripping with gentleness. he snuck an arm under your head and pulled you towards his chest.

“i mean i guess so,” you joked, causing heeseung to tickle your sides. 

you squirmed in his grip trying to bite him until he finally gave it a rest. 

you tilted your head up towards his trying to find his lips to give him a short kiss. ultimately missing due to the darkness and kissing his chin instead. the both of you giggled. heeseung then used his free hand to trace around your face to find your lips, bringing his head down to finally connect your lips to his.

the last thing you remembered before drifting off was the sound of heeseung lulling you to sleep with a song he had been working on for their upcoming album.

[mekakitsune]

mean!jinx x fem!reader - nsfw - minors dni

request from anon: "Hi love, I would like to request Jinx x Reader. The reader is Jinx's girlfriend and they are at the bar and a guy approaches the reader asking if the reader would like to go out with him and Jinx obviously doesn't like it, can this end with her fucking the reader to show everyone that the reader is hers? Please 😮‍💨"

dates in public really werent jinx's thing, or yours for that matter. she would always say something along the lines of "why go out when we have everything we need here?" by here, she meant her "workshop"– where it was cluttered with mechanical parts and the smell of gunpowder hung heavy in the air constantly. it was more than enough, but sometimes, even you needed a break. had you not been so convincing, jinx would have not let you drag her out to the last drop. she didn't like drinking, nor did she like the usuals at the bar. they were loud, arrogant, and just plain gross.

she sat at the end of the bar, some fruity juice concoction in her cup as she swirled her straw around the glass looking less than interested in what was happening around her.

"i want another drink, ill be right back, kay?" you lean into her, and she nods, watching you hop off the stool and stroll (rather stumble) to the other end of the bar where the bartender stood. she watched as you smiled sweetly at the man, leaning against the bar as you recite your order. he nods and moves to make your drink, leaving you to stand waiting. without notice, a man slinks in beside you, with an unsettling smirk on his lips.

"put the lovely ladies drink on my tab, would ya?" he gruffed at the bartender, sending you a wink as he spoke. you smile politely, shaking your head as you speak up– "hey... im alright but thank yo-"

"nonsense, let me treat a pretty lady to a drink, yeah?" he cut you off. he reeked of booze, and was ultimately too close for comfort.

"okay...its a just a drink, but im a-" he cuts you off again.

"see, knew you'd want it. so hows about we getchu that drink and then ditch this place?" he smirks again, placing a hand on your shoulder, one eye brow cocked like he was waiting for you to agree. before you could utter a word, an arm wraps around your waist, and the mans hand drops from your shoulder immediately.

"sorry to interrupt whatever youre trying to do here, but shes taken."

jinxs sneers at the man, looking like she was ready to pounce any second. the man, stupidly, didnt budge– obviously not seeing your girlfriend as much of a threat. her fingers gripped your hip, hard.

"ohh so its like that? y'know, ive always wanted to see some girl on girl action in real time." the man stands, arrogant and overly confident. the smirk on his lips made your stomach twist. without thinking, per her style, jinx lunges at the man, slamming her fist into his nose.

your eyes go wide as the man stumbles back, hand gripping his now bloody nose. "you little bitch..."

the man moves quickly towards her, but a familiar metallic hand finds his shoulder first.

"you two. out. now."

it was sevika, of course she had been there. she had been watching the two of you since you walked in, knowing trouble was bound to come with you guys around, it seemed like it always did.

"i'll fuckin kill you..." the man spat, trying to remove himself from sevikas grip. she looked at you sternly, and you got the message from the expression on her face.

"pssh, you wish." jinx muttered mockingly, clearly not wanting to leave without finishing what she started, or rather, without killing this guy first. you grab her wrist and speak– "lets just go jinx, cmon.." you pull her towards you, and she follows as you drag her towards the door. shouts from the man can be heard from behind you, and jinx stops in her tracks to flip him off. you bite back a laugh as you tug her along into the cool air outside of the bar.

"what a creep..." she spoke low, eyes ahead of her as she walked, avoiding your gaze completely.

"im sorr–" suddenly she whips around to face you, brows furrowed. "i mean seriously? that perv was all over you, and you were gonna let him buy you a drink!? are you stupid?" she cuts you off to rant, making you shut your mouth.

"he could have done something bad, and you were just gonna let him? the hells wrong with you?" she continued, hands moving dramatically.

"i was just gonna empty his pockets when he wasnt looking, jinx... aren't you the one that always says "if you see an opening, take it?"– you quote her. "its clear he had money..."

this seems to make her head rush, anger and possessiveness rushing through her. before you can process it, shes grabbing your arm and dragging you into the alley on your right. with shocking force, she presses you against the wall, her face dangerously close to yours as her eyes bore into yours.

"that doesn't mean go around and act like some sort of slut." she squints, cocking her head to the side.

"are you kidding? fuck you, jinx. i-" she doesnt let you finish as she smashing her lips into yours, hard enough to bruise, surely. you gasp at her suddenness, and her hands find your hips again, pinning you to the wall behind you.

her tongue wins the easy battle for dominance, completely consuming you as if the two of you werent stood in an alley. the only light was a dingy street lamp, casting a warm glow onto the two of you. the kiss was hot, messy as she took control of every movement, hips pressing into yours. she pulls back from the kiss, chest heaving as her hands find your belt.

"what are you doing?" you pant, watching her as her skilled hands mess with your waistband.

"whats it look like, dollface." her tone is low, and you can tell shes serious about taking you right here in the alley.

"cmon...not here...people could see us." you shift your hips as much as you can, but theres little to no room between you and the wall, so your attempt are deemed useless. ignoring you, her fingers pop the button on your pants, and find their way into your underwear.

her lips are on you again, flush with your neck as she sucks marks into the skin.

"let em'. dont care." her words are muffled against your neck. you gasp quietly as her fingers find your slick folds, a low chuckle coming from her.

"see? slut. all worked up, and from what, hm? some creep sweet talkin you?" she rambles, her words making your skin flush. her fingers circle your clit, making you buck into her as she holds you steady with her other hand. the cool metal of her finger bleeds through the layer of fabric riding up your hips. soon enough, shes moving her fingers and sliding them into your cunt, making you whimper. you feel her smirk against your neck, lips leaving a trail of searing marks with the intention of claiming whats hers.

"or is it that you like the thought of being caught, hm?" her fingers pushed a relentless pace, making your knees shake. "y'like me fuckin you in public baby?" her words are making your head spin, along with her fingers inside of you. her breathing picks up again when she hears you whine, cunt tightening around her fingers.

"m'close, please..." you muttered helplessly, surely dripping down her wrist at this point. she presses a kiss to your lips as she pulls her hand away. you watch in awe, chest moving rapidly as her fingers come to her mouth, sucking them clean.

"what the fuck?" you pant, fingers wrapping around her wrist. she simply smiles, before slipping out of your grasp.

"s'one thing to act like you enjoy being flirted with, but im not about to make you cum where anyone could see." she shrugs, her grin sinister as she turns on her heel.

in disbelief, your shaky hands move to fix your pants and belt. she had it coming once you stepped back into the confines of her workshop, that was one thing for certain.

thank u for the yummy rq i hope u enjoy :3

[logansbaby]

DIET PEPSI | Logan Howlett

❥ summary: stuck in a place of unspoken desire and longing, the limousine drives only further ignite the spark between logan howlett and you. months of built up lust and emotions bubble over when you take control.

word count: 8.1k (im unable to write short smut scenes)

pairings: old man logan howlett x fem!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), masturbation, messy kissing, spitting (im so sorry but it’s my weakness), oral (fem!receiving), begging, humping, pussy pronouns (it’s sooooooo) unprotected sex, gagging? it’s just once, car sex, feelings, logan being self destructive, pet names (baby, honey, princess ITS CANON SOOOO) let me know if i missed anything!

❥ a/n: soooooooo…. this took forever im SO sorry! life is absolutely insane and chronic illnesses are not for the weak. anyways think of this as a gift from me to all you sexy people for 2k!!!!!!! thank you so much, i could kiss you all<3 i hope you enjoy, let me know what you think

—˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

‘When we drive in your car, I'm your baby (so sweet)

Losing all my innocence in the back seat

Say you love, say you love, say you love me (love me)

Losing all my innocence in the back seat’

Diet Pepsi - Addison Rae

—˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚

TENSION simmers in the air of the limousine as the driver and passenger engage in a silent staring contest through the rearview mirror. The cool air blasting from the air vents does little to dismantle the heat bubbling in the small space.

Though nonchalance is painted on your face, a darker, seductive glint glimmers in your eyes, a challenge settling within them. You tilt your head, tongue slipping out to glisten your lips with saliva.

There's no shame evident in your gaze; your body is thrumming with pure, hot need and you could cry out with how bad you need the man in the driver's seat.

Logan isn't faring much better— fists gripping the steering wheel tight enough that his healing knuckles turn white, a frown etching deep in his features. He’s desperate to hold onto the tiny sliver of control he has left, mind working to come up with anything to keep him away from giving into this, into you.

This thing between you both started the minute you settled in the backseat of his limousine all those months ago and the unspoken desire has only grown since then.

It’s like there’s something tethering you to him— it’s why you keep coming back to him, calling for his car services despite the fact that your car has long since been fixed. You find yourself craving him, unable to think about anything but him in the early hours of the morning. No matter how many times you come thinking about him, the ache and desire for the man only grows. Though, you haven’t even had a taste.

Yet.

You won’t give in first, though. As much as you want to climb over the seat and suck his cock right then and there as he drives, you’ve held back, just barely, for months.

Logan is a man of very few words and he prefers actions to speaking his feelings. He’s shown you he’s softened to you in the way he hums to show you he’s listening to your rambles. He’s shown it in the way he shows up when you both know you don’t need his car anymore. He doesn’t say it, but you know he wants you as much as you want him, and you’ve been waiting for him to finally give in, to make you his.

As soon as you sat down tonight, fresh from the club, you knew something was bound to happen, especially with the way Logan’s been eying you the entire drive.

Which, it’s important to note that your destination leads to nowhere, you just craved to see the man that badly.

You lean back against the seat, eyes speaking a thousand words as they meet his once more. God, he’s so handsome. His pretty hazel eyes, the slope of his nose, the salt and pepper stubble stretching across his cheeks. Oh, how you want to feel the burn against your—

“Stop that.” Logan’s grunt snaps you from your thoughts.

“Stop what?” You go for innocence but really, your tone is saturated in lust and it gives you away entirely.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what, Logan?” You’re challenging him, and though you can’t see it from the backseat, his dress pants get considerably tighter at the defiance in your voice. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Bullshit,” He counters, eyes flickering to yours and you choose then to bite down on your glossy lips. His knuckles flex with the urge to release the claws piercing beneath his skin; is he crazy for being jealous that he’s not the one biting into the plush skin? “You’re staring at me like you want me to fuck you.”

Vermillion warmth spreads from your chest to your cheeks at his bluntness. It’s completely true, but the dirty truth makes you flush, and your panties to dampen at the thought.

“It’s not gonna happen, baby.” His tone is confident, sure and it pisses you off. “It’s not, so knock it off.”

You roll your eyes, turning to stare out the window. You’re not sure when it started raining, but the water droplets hit the glass pane harshly with its momentum. The pitter patter of water should distract you from Logan, but it just sends you further spiraling.

How dare he deny your feelings and then call you baby?

Blah, blah, blah! His reasons for keeping you apart are pathetic. You couldn’t careless for the years he has on you, you’re a grown woman, and fully capable of what you want. You don’t care what kind of a man he was before he met you; your feelings for him defeat any sense of logic your mind can muster.

You remember how it felt the first time you saw him. Wild, untamed butterflies erupted in the pit of your stomach the moment Logan’s eyes met yours. You remember how your name sounded on his lips, a rough voice rendering chills across your skin.

That day had been a shitty one, your boss scolding you for tiny mistakes and everything had seemed to go wrong. Even more so when your car broke down and your then boyfriend refused to pick you up, instead sending you a link to a limousine service. You were sure nothing would get better from that point on.

But when you sat down in his car, Logan’s presence made you feel safe, and it wracked your brain as to why a stranger made you feel so comfortable.

Evidently, you kept calling the limo service (if you silently praised your ex for leading you to Logan, no one had to know).

You remember how you began looking forward to seeing him. You remember how talking with him, rambling on about whatever, felt normal. You remember how being in the vicinity of him felt like taking a breath of crisp, cool air after months of no oxygen.

Logan has picked you up from the bar, carried you up to your apartment door when you were too drunk to do it yourself. Logan has veered off course when your stomach audibly rumbled during a drive to work, insisting you needed to eat. He even grabbed you a milkshake when you told him how you dumped your ex.

He’s been there in every way that counts, but not close enough.

Somewhere along the way, you’ve become love sick, reduced to a yearning mess each time you see him, each time only furthering your feelings. All you want is for Logan to accept this spark between you and let you in, let you ease his troubles and care— because you do, so much.

And, you might want Logan’s dick deep inside you, his strong body hovering over yours as he fucks you dirty, hard, and rough.

“Whatever, Logan.” Huffing, your eyes roll to further showcase your opinion. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs and the action causes the tiny, black dress to slip further up your thighs.

And because Logan has a staring problem where you’re concerned, he sees the roll of your eyes, the expanse of thigh that’s showing. Whenever you’re like this, so unashamed of your need for him, it makes him want to let go of any morals. It makes him want to throw your legs over his shoulders and devour you, lick up the slick he knows is there. He’d like to finally shut your mouth up, finally stop those bratty comments as he fills you up.

Instead, he stays quiet and focuses on the empty road ahead. He can do this, resist your hazy eyes and luscious lips long enough until he gets you to your destination. The radio is switched on then, some pop song filtering through the vehicle in an attempt to lessen the thick, sexual strain permeating the air.

Though, that little action seems to unravel any little bit of control either of you have.

His indifference annoys you; here you are, adorned in a black, lacy dress that does nothing to cover your thighs and grips your curves deliciously. And, you even turned down an attractive man at the club in favor of having Logan pick you up; just the thought of him made you immune to another’s charm.

How embarrassing are you? Staying loyal to a man that has decided the course of your relationship without your input. You would’ve walked away if it were any other person, but you’ve seen the way he eyes you each time you get inside his car, seen the way his fingers go white as he grips the steering wheel, seen the way his cock goes hard at the sight of you.

And that’s when you decide you’re sick of this. Sick of Logan denying you both mind altering pleasure, sick of him pushing you away, sick of him deciding what’s best for you when you can make your own decisions.

A noisy clink! resounds as you unbuckle your seatbelt, and move towards the front of the car. You feel a prickling gaze at the side of your face as you fit yourself over the console, hand reaching to turn off the radio knob. You let your fingertips just barely graze Logan’s arm as you do so, and you’d think he’s unfazed had you not been so close to see the shudder rack through him, to hear the gruff inhale that has a shaky lilt.

In the corner of your eye, you see his mouth part, but before he can scold you, you remove yourself and land back against the cushion. If you’re going to do this, you want his entire attention on you, not some shitty song filtering through the radio station.

You adjust yourself, wiggling until you’re comfortable. Parting your thighs, you feel your confidence soar as you note how Logan’s eyes track your movements.

The dress is bunched up around the tops of your thighs and with the way your legs are open, stretched enough that your ankles lean against the opposite sides of the leather, the lacy thong is on display.

One hand trails down to the spot between your legs, where you’re slick and wet with want. You don’t touch yourself right away, instead petting the supple skin of your inner thighs. The other hand moves to caress your breasts as they threaten to spill from the confines of the dress. You sigh, a shiver racketing through you as nimble fingers brush your most sensitive spots with a mere graze.

“What are you—“ Logan starts, but you cut him off because you’re in charge here, not him.

“Shut up, Logan.” You’re trying to sound stern but with the way you’re softly petting your nipples through the fabric, it’s more breathy than authoritative.

“Fuck,” Logan spits out, trying really hard to not crash but it’s proving to be a bit impossible with the way he can see you teasing yourself. What’s worse is the fact that the intoxicating scent of your pussy is assaulting his senses. He feels high on your smell, on the way he watches through the mirror as you pinch your chest. “Fuck.”

“You know…” You start, but it’s interrupted by a sudden inhale as you finally touch your tender clit through the thin material, pads rubbing softly until that familiar, hot feeling fills your stomach. “I wish I stayed at the club a little longer.”

“Is that right?” If your eyes were open, you’d see how unhinged and feral the man looks. The skin of his knuckles split open as his claws peak out.

A whimper rings loud into Logan’s ears and fuck, that angelic noise will haunt him for the rest of his fucking life. His eyes snap back to see you slowly rolling your hips into your hands, fingers playing with your clit lazily.

“Mhmm, I shouldn’t have called you. Not when you constantly ignore me.” You whine, spreading your legs further apart than before, feeling a rush you’ve never felt before blossom across your entire body at the show you’re putting on. “You pretend there’s nothing here, you pretend you don’t want me, and it pisses me off.”

He’s trying so incredibly hard to force the words ‘knock it off and cover yourself up’ out, but he can’t.

He can’t when it’s the furthest thing from what he actually wants. He can faintly see the wet spot on your underwear, and he wants to scream at you to remove the material all together— he’s that desperate to see your puffy, pretty cunt glisten in all its glory.

“I don’t ignore you, baby.” It’s grunted out, the pain of his claws only aiding in his desire as his cock grows uncomfortably stiff in his pants. “But I can’t give you what you want.”

Another roll of your eyes sends a shiver down Logan’s aching back. Oh, if you don’t knock it off, he’s going to make you cry as he fucks you dumb.

Happy thoughts… Logan thinks.

“There was this guy in the club.” By the tiny smirk on your lips, he knows he shouldn’t take the bait. He knows you’re trying to push him, trying to get him to let go and take what you both desire. He knows he shouldn’t fall for it.

Too bad hes never been good at listening.

“What?”

The lethal, cold depth of his voice has your eyes flying open and you have the audacity to fucking moan. You’re usually not this… bold? Perhaps Logan just turns you into a feral, needy thing.

“Yeah, he was cute too!” You hum, bubbles of laughter tumbling from bitten lips at the way Logan stares at you, at how he gives you a warning look. “He offered to by me a drink, said he wanted to dance.”

“He’s a dick.”

“No, he said I’m pretty.”

“You are pretty.” It’s angry, the way he forces it out, not because it’s untrue, but because the idea of another man trying to make a move on you, his girl, sends anger boiling beneath his skin.

“He was nice, I don’t know why I bothered to turn him down.” It’s through a moan, the way the words are murmured because your fingers are now rubbing circles over your sex in a motion that has your hips jolting, legs shaking, and lips shiny with spit as you bite at them.

“He’s an asshole, only wants one thing from you.”

“I don’t care, what if I want only one thing from him too?”

“Careful.” He practically growls, the limousine swerving slightly before he gets control over the wheel again.

He’s not sure when you’ve become so fucking obscene, but he aches to bend you over the hood of the car and teach you a lesson. He’s so overwhelmed with the turn of events, of how so many feelings jump about beneath his ribcage.

He knows he’s been pushing you away, ignoring the connection you have, but fuck? The knowledge you can slip away from him at any moment makes him feel agonized.

“Jealous?” You taunt, the material of your underwear darker with the slick pooling there and you both know Logan can see it.

“No.”

“I gave him my number, you know.” It's spoken so nonchalantly that a snarl threatens to escape deep from Logan’s throat. “He said to call if I need anything…”

“Watch it,” it’s calmly muttered, but Logan’s anything but. He’s torn between actually focusing on the road and watching your fingers roll your clit in the rear view mirror. That, and anger rolls off him in thick, daunting waves because of a man he doesn’t even know.

You’ve got him wrapped around your pretty finger and he’s a fool to think anything else. He’s a fool to think he’s been successful in the suppression of his feelings.

“Maybe I should call him,” You suggest, your hand slipping beneath the sodden mesh and finally touching your clit properly. “He was hot.”

Logan’s so wrapped up in your euphoric face and honeyed voice that he’s struggling to remember why he’s so riled up.

“Stop tryna piss me off. You’re on my last fuckin’ nerve.” He’s stern, but you just smile wide and slip the pads of your fingers down to swipe up the arousal dripping from your hole, your whiny pants making his spine go rigid.

“I’m not doing anything, Logan.”

“Bullshit. Whatever you think you’re doing, it’s not gonna work. This can’t happen.”

He’s trying so hard to convince himself as much as you. His words don’t bother you though, because the smile on your face morphs into a satisfied smirk.

“You don’t want me?” You challenge, and you stare him down as your fingers retreat from your cunt. You lift your hand up to your mouth, never once looking away as you stick them past your lips and suck.

Your body jolts when the car swerves wildly, but instead of fear, blistering lust fills you and burns your cheeks. Logan looks so incredibly distraught with how your lips wrap around your fingers, a soft ‘hmmm’ falling from you at the taste of desire blooming across your tastebuds.

“Shit, honey. Of course I want you. You don’t know how bad I need you.”

“Please.” You cry out, voice high and dripping with want. Your fingers part from your wandering tongue, traveling down the path of your curves to find your pussy again. “Please, please—“

“No.”

“Logan!” You’re so overwhelmed with your blatant need for the man that actual tears pool at your lashes.

“No.”

“And why the fuck not?”

“Don’t give me attitude.” He commands and you must be sick because the stern, finality of his tone has your hole clenching around nothing. “You know why.”

“—oh my god, Logan. Not this again, the ‘I’m not a good guy,’ and ‘I’m too old for you’ is absolute shit! I don’t care, I want you to fuck me.”

You’re so forthright that he can’t be blamed with how his stomach churns with intense hunger.

“You deserve so much more, more than I can give you.”

Logan seems to forget that as much as he’s come to know you, you’ve also picked up on his own habits. So, you know he’s full of shit by the twitch of his hands on the wheel, the tightening of his lips, the way he’s staring at you like a man starved.

“You know what? Fine, that’s fine. I’ll just call Nate and—“

“Who?” The cold note in his words should scare you, but it just sends another wave of slick to seep down your thighs.

“Nate! The guy from the club,” you say, one hand reaching for the phone hidden in your purse, and the other rubbing slow circles on your neglected clit. The mixture of your spit and wetness is noisy as you rub yourself, the sound driving Logan fucking insane.

“I told you, the guy sounds like a dick. The fuck kind of name is that?” Logan’s patience is running out and you both know it, the string tearing with each tug you give. His eyes widen when you wiggle the phone in his eyeline.“Don’t you fuckin’ dare.”

“Why? At least he was willing to fuck me.”

And, oh.

You’re not sure what causes you to say that, but the atmosphere turns tense, filling with anticipation, something dark and dangerous enough that chills run across your exposed skin.

It’s silent. Astonishingly silent as Logan tears his gaze from you, his eyes only forward now. You don’t back down; you know you’re driving the man crazy and it feels fucking good.

Without tearing your eyes from him, you hit the call button.

The sound of the phone dialing has Logan snapping. The car tires screech loudly as Logan slams on the breaks, yanking the wheel to pull of to the side of the road.

Your hands fly out to catch yourself from the swift, jerky motion. A sense of accomplishment bubbles inside your chest when Logan shuts the car off, his body frantic and quick before he’s out the driver's door.

You’re jittery with nerves, despite the fact you were just rubbing your clit like a madwoman in front of him. You were tempting him, sure. But now that he’s finally snapped, you’re nervous.

You gasp as chilly air hits you in the face when the back door opens. In an instant, he’s in the back with you, slamming the door shut. His presence is so intimidating and powerful that you shiver, arousal licking at your back as he crowds into your space.

He glares at you, and just as about you’re about to speak, a rough, large hand grips your chin tightly. He squeezes your cheeks, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. His other hand yanks the phone from your fingers and chucks the device in the front seat.

“So fucking stubborn and bratty, always fucking pushing me. Never stop talking, do you?”

“I’ll have you kno—“

Logan slams his mouth onto yours then, effectively shutting you the fuck up.

It’s like fireworks are set off in your stomach, a trickle of mind numbing pleasure tingling every inch of you. You’ve imagined this moment for months, wondered how it’d feel, but nothing your imagination conjured up could ever compare to the real thing.

Logan’s kisses are passionate, eager. He lifts your entire body into his lap in one, quick motion. The causal display of his sheer strength causes your body to melt into him. Your choked gasp is swallowed by his lips, his tongue licking at yours and oh, the wetness of it sends a wave of flutters straight to your cunt.

His mouth is harsh, the scruff of his beard scratching at your chin with a tasteful burn. His rough hand leaves your thigh to snake into your hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers until a messy ponytail forms. Without warning, he tugs firmly to pull you from his mouth.

He watches as your eyes fly open, as a string of saliva connects from his lips to yours. He feels pride thrum within his chest as you try to lean in immediately, chasing the taste of him, his kiss, his tongue.

Logan doesn’t allow you though, yanking at your hair to keep you in place.

“Not speaking now, are you?” Logan grunts out, tugging your head back so he can lick a hot, wet stripe up the expanse of your neck. He sucks at the skin there, hips threatening to thrust up at the moans spilling from your open mouth. “Finally found a way to keep you fuckin’ quiet.”

“Logan—“ you start, mind cloudy with the overwhelming feeling of his wet mouth on your skin, but he just smashes his lips on yours again.

And holy fuck, the way he’s kissing you, like he’s been starved of a meal and you’re the only thing edible, like he can’t get enough of your taste, has your panties growing even wetter. You snake your arms around Logan’s neck tightly, hips swiveling down in his lap so you can rub yourself over his bulge.

Your moan tangles with the surprised groan from Logan when your center grinds down on his cock, the feeling indescribable, utterly intoxicating and above all— right. It feels so fucking right.

His hand releases your hair in favor of grabbing handfuls of your ass and squeezing, guiding your hips as he licks at the roof of your mouth.

Its almost embarrassing how riled up you are with just kissing and humping, but you can’t be blamed, not really. Not with the way Logan’s dragging your cunt along his hard cock as he sucks your tongue— it’s so fucking good that his pants are wet with your lust, even through your panties and his pants.

When you finally pull back, it’s with his bottom lip tucked between your teeth, enticing a hiss from the man as you bite down. You lose your hands in his messy hair, tugging until his eyes open and fuck— his pupils are huge, dark with need for you.

Cradling his cheeks, you release and lick at his lip, soothing the sting your teeth left. You startle as Logan thrusts up in reaction, the head of him tapping your clit, and despite the barriers between you, it feels fucking amazing.

Logan catches your lips in a messy, slick embrace. There’s no gentleness, only pure sensuality leading his bruising kisses. You get so wrapped up in the pleasure of Logan’s mouth on yours, his cock rutting into your clothed center so delectably, that time is lost.

When you push Logan’s face away, it’s because your lungs burn with the need for oxygen.

Logan’s unfazed, lips moving down your throat and leaving wet kisses across your neck. You’re sucking in oxygen desperately, hands shaky as they stroke up and down Logan’s back. You want to remember every inch of him, that’s how addicting it is to touch his skin.

“Fuck, I can smell you.” He mutters against your collarbone, rough hands roaming all over your body, as if he needs to memorize the feel of you.

“Yeah?”

You’re a fucking mess— hands wrappped tightly around the back of his neck, leaving scratches that stay for longer than they would’ve decades prior, and you’re still rolling your hips in his lap, trying and failing to ease the ache in your cunt. It only further intensifies the achy throbbing with each grind of restless hips.

“Smells so fuckin’ sweet. Gonna let me have a taste, baby?”

“Yes! Please, Logan, please.” You’re far too gone, too drunk on the feel of his lips on your chest to care how pathetic you sound.

You lean back, grabbing Logan’s face to meet yours, sighing softly as your wet lips melt together once more. He groans, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair, tugging hard as he turns your head any way he pleases, using you. It’s then you realize you’d let him do anything to you.

You’re not sure how much time passes as Logan devours your mouth, it could be mere minutes or hours, but you’ve been too tangled up in his to care. What you do know is that you feel as though you’re going to explode if you don’t relieve the pressure in your pussy soon.

You’re whining, pawing at Logan’s chest and rubbing your wetness on the pant of his thigh, trying to get the man to touch you moremoremore.

But Logan’s too occupied with sucking on your tongue and biting your bottom lip meanly. He uses the grip he has on your hair to keep you there, rendered useless as he messily kisses you breatheless.

“Logan, Logan, Logan.” You moan and even though it’s mumbled into his own lips, he hears you all the same. “Need you. Please.”

And then, it’s like Logan’s realizing the current situation— you, a whimpering mess and rubbing your cunt along his lap as your spit soaked lips mesh with his own in a delicious, salacious embrace. You, who he knows he can’t afford to lose, and if he continues touching you, you’ll fade away like everything else good in his life.

He pushes your face back, but makes no move to remove your weight from his body. A frown settles over your blissed out features, dread replacing the butterflies fluttering about inside you.

“Logan?”

“You don’t want this.” He’s refusing to look at you, his hazel eyes blown out with pleasure wondering around the interior of the limousine as if he hasn’t seen it before.

“I do. I want this. I want you.” You cradle his bearded face in your hands, thumbs caressing the prickly grays scattered across his cheeks. “I do.”

“No, baby. You don’t, you deserve so much better—“

His words are lost in the air as you connect your swollen lips with his. You bully your tongue inside, swiping along his, sighing when his hips buck up at your boldness. The action has his cock rutting your covered clit in such an angle that you could probably come just like that.

“Can’t you feel how badly I want you?” You whisper, peppering sweet kisses along his cheeks, nose, eyelids. Staring into his eyes, so muddled with conflict and something sweeter, you kiss him again.

“Shit,” he groans into your mouth, tongues dancing in a pace that has you dizzy, whimpering inside mouth as your lace covered mound ruts at his thigh. “Can’t baby. You deserve someone better, not some old fucking man who’s done more harm than good.”

“I don’t need better, I need you.” You emphasize the point by grabbing his hand and shoving them down your panties.

A symphony of your shared moans ricochets through the small space; you, at the feel of his rough, thick fingers finally touching your slit. Logan, at the feel of your sweet, sweet arousal soaking your cunt slippery.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to find any excuse as to why he should push you away when kissing you, touching you feels this fucking good. Even as his brain works, his fingers tease your fluttering hole and collect your wetness and dragging it to your clit.

“See? I need you, please. Logan, please.”

You stare up at him, eyes wide with so many feelings that cause his heart to pump faster and his cock to jerk.

He seals his fate then and there— Logan’s sick and tired of all the bad in his life, and he doesn’t know much, but what he does know is that you make him feel like he’s good, like he’s fated for something other than drowning in whiskey. And he’s sick of denying himself of you.

“Fuck it.” He mutters, eyes on your lips before melting into you, lips meshing together wetly.

Your moan is loud and sweet, hands leaving his face in favor of gripping his shoulders, nails digging into the crisp white of the fabric there.

He pulls back, ignoring the need washing over him at the mewl falling from you at the sudden removal of him.

“Shh, baby.” He soothes, a large hand finding purchase on your chin, his fingers teasing your lips and rubbing the saliva there. “Open up.”

The quickness at which you obey him makes him want to impale you with his cock then, but he just barely restrains. Your lips are parted, tongue peaking out and waiting; the picture you paint will be a reoccurring dream for him, forever.

Logan leans over you before spitting onto your tongue, watching as the saliva glistens in your mouth. You gasp, the act so incredibly dirty and carnal that you shiver in his lap.

“Swallow.” He commands, squeezing your cheeks together, nearly getting lost in the dazed, euphoric look in your eyes. And you do, because of course you do. ”Atta girl.”

A sob nearly escapes you at that you’re so turned on beyond belief that you’ll burst into tears if Logan doesn’t fuck you soon.

Almost like he can read your mind, he moves you around until your back hits the cool, chilly leather of the seat. He settles himself on the floor of the limousine before you, ignoring the aches he feels stinging his lower back. The pain lingering in his bones becomes a background noise when he looks at you— as if just one look from you heals wounds deep within him.

Logan runs his hands along your legs slowly, teasingly as he presses a kiss on your upper thigh.

“Been dreaming of this pussy for so long.” He starts, leaning until your covered mound is warm with his breath. You’re trembling, suspense hot in your stomach as you wait for him to do something. “Everytime you get in the car, I can smell you. And everytime, I want to fucking eat you out.”

“Logan, please.” You cry out, his filthy words making you dizzy with desire.

And seeing you, someone who’s so unabashedly themselves and talkative be reduced to a withering mess, has a grin threatening to grace his face.

“I got you, baby. Gonna take care of you.”

And he does.

Logan presses a soft, barely there kiss to your lace covered slit before licking a slow, warm path from your hole to your aching clit.

“Oh my god!” You cry out, thighs trying and failing to clench closed as Logan’s hands keep them spread open. He groans at your taste, the hint of something so entirely you.

He grabs each thigh and wraps them around his neck before pulling the sodden material aside with his thumb to finally expose your pussy to him.

And at the sight of your cunt glistening with slick, with unsuppressed desire, makes him fucking lose it.

“She’s so wet, fucking dripping everywhere,” groans, and it takes your muddled brain a second before realizing he’s talking about your pussy.

A moan falls from you, deep from your chest and full of need and hunger as Logan’s tongue swirls over your slit, dipping into your dripping hole. He’s messy as he eats you out, completely driven by a primal urge to completely devour you in the most intimate sense. His movements are rash, his appetite stronger than anything else.

Logan leans back a bit, eyes flickering to yours to ensure you’re focused on him before he spits directly onto your pussy.

A gasp sounds, your chest heaving at the warmth of his saliva coating your center, and it’s so dirty, so insanely hot that it only causes more slick seeps from you.

Logan leans back, ignoring your whine as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy wide open, your sex bare to him. Its obscene, the way he stares at the mixture of saliva and slick glistening your slit. It’s a sight, your cunt crying for him and clenching around nothing as your hips try to buck at his mouth.

Logan laps it all up, tongue flat as he greedily licks up and down your sex. And you’re losing it— not only is his tongue fucking you, going as deep as he can, but Logan’s nose is also bumping against your clit with each thrust of his mouth. Warmth swarms in your stomach and your thighs shake with a promise of an orgasm in the distance.

“Feels so good!” You manage, your hips thrusting up into his face.

You were right— the beard feels fucking amazing rubbing mean and unforgiving against the sensitive skin of your thighs, against your slit.

“Tastes so good, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” Logan moans, replacing his tongue with two fingers. His cock hardens even more with the way your cunt swallows his fingers right away, your warm, wet walls squeezing around them.

That familiar burn swelters in your pelvis, pure heat sizzling through your veins and for a moment, you forget to breathe. It gets worse when Logan suddenly wraps his swollen lips around your puffy clit and sucks.

The pleasure of it all is so sudden that it smothers you entirely— your back arches off the leather, your pussy convulsing as Logan’s fingers and tongue work you to an orgasm quicker than you ever have before.

“Logan, Logan.” You pant, hands tugging the graying tufts of hair, and you’re unsure if you’re trying to push him impossibly closer and away at the same time.

He only releases his suction on your clit when tears prickle your eyes, when you shake on his fingers from the stimulation of it all. He gently places a kiss to your clit, smiling when you jolt. His lips travel along your sweaty thighs, hands stroking your calves as you struggle to breathe.

“That’s it, honey. I got you.”

“Come here,” is all you have the strength to muster, needing his lips on yours instead of your trembling thighs.

Logan obliges, because if you asked him to get you the moon, he’d do his damn hardest to get it.

“Hi,” you whisper once he’s level with you, body slotted between your limp one. Your arms move without your knowledge, wrapping comfortably around his nape.

“Hi, baby.” His voice is deeper, almost as if he’s completely blissed out on the taste of your pussy and come.

It’s then you see how insane he looks— his chin, lips, and the tip of his nose is wet, completely soaked with you. His eyes are wild, hazy with need and his hair is messy from wandering fingers. He looks so incredibly handsome right now, in your arms, covered in you that you can’t be blamed for the moan that escapes.

You tug him close, lips locking in a newly familiar kiss. The taste of you envelopes over your tongue as you lick along his mouth, a satisfied hum vibrating from your lips to his.

What starts as a sweet, lazy kiss turns heated quickly, and though you’ve just come, your sex aches to be filled. It’s a mess of tongues and saliva, teeth clashing as your lips interlock and wrap around one another.

Your hands begin to unbutton his shirt, marveling at the feel of muscle that’s revealed with each pop of a button. You shrug the fabric off and grab at his shoulders, nails digging into the skin and trailing down to the middle of his back.

“Fuck!” Logan groans, biting your bottom lip as you scratch at him.

Instead of responding, you push at his chest until he falls into the seat across yours before throwing yourself in his lap again. You’re crazed, an unsatisfied hunger clinging to every inch of you and threatening to overtake your senses.

“Always so damn bossy.” He’s taunting you, but with the way his dick jolts as you yank your dress off, you know you’ve got him right where you want him.

You gaze at him, guiding his hands from your hips to your chest, urging him to take off your bra.

Logan’s too impatient to actually remove the fabric though, because he simply pulls at the cups until they give way to the pressure and your breasts pool over the band.

“So fuckin’ pretty.” He groans, leaning down and taking a pebbled nipple between his lips. You whine as he sucks, his fingers rubbing and pulling your other nipple. He switches his attention between both for a while and desire pools in your stomach, heat tingles across your skin, and you can’t wait any longer.

With quick hands, you work to undo his buckle before yanking down his boxers and dress pants in one motion, leaving them in a mess at his ankles. Logan releases your chest in favor of watching you nearly drool at his cock.

He’s huge. The tip is flushed, red and swollen, dripping pearly white bubbles from the slit. His shaft is thick with veins leading down to a patch of short, curled hair at the base. Even in the dim light of the limousine, you note how the vein on his lower stomach connects to the ones decorating his cock. Fuck, you suddenly want to feel the heaviness of him on your tongue and you’d ignore your own needs to choke on the entirety of him. You crave his taste, his come, and—

“Next time, baby.” Logan startles you from your filthy thoughts, and you actually whine at his words. “As much as I’d like to fuck your pretty mouth, I need to be inside you.”

And despite the fact that the man has eaten you out and stolen an orgasm already, you flush with warmth.

Logan finds you amusing, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock and yanking you until your hole is kissing his tip. Your hips move forward, and a whole body shiver wracks through you when your clit brushes his shaft.

“C’mon, princess. Show me how bad you want it.” He emphasizes his taunt with a squeeze of your waist, his lips brushing yours. “Not so cocky now, huh?”

With a glare, you push his hand away and wrap yours around his cock, guiding it to your wet, slick hole. Logan merely raises an eyebrow as your other hand grips his shoulder to lift yourself up enough. Without warning, you sink down onto the the tip of him, nails digging into his shoulder at the overwhelming feel bubbling over you.

“Fuck,” Logan growls, head leaning forward onto your shoulder as you squeeze around him purposefully, cunt sucking him down bit by bit as you lower yourself, only stopping when he fills you to the brim.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” You huff, a grin on your flushed face as you repeat his previous words back at him.

Logan doesn’t respond, to focused on not coming immediately— you’re so fucking tight, so wet and warm that he’s struggling.

The stretch is painful, but not unpleasant as you adjust to his size. When the burn fades away and instead comes a delicious thrum, you unleash.

You lift your hips up, enticing a broken moan from Logan as you move up and slam back down in slow, articulated motions.

“Feel so good, baby. So good.”

“Yeah?” You say, hands creeping into his hair to pull each time his tip brushes that spot inside you.

“Yeah.” The kiss he presses to your cheek makes your heart flutter, an act so pure in the midst it all.

You continue your torturous pace, pride warming your chest when Logan’s hands tighten on your hips, urging you to go faster.

You could go faster, but you like the way Logan looks like he’s struggling to suck in oxygen each time his cock returns to your hole.

You catch his mouth in an open, wet kiss. He grunts, and before you can even think, Logan moves his hips upwards and you cry out.

Oh.

Oh.

Suddenly, Logan’s stripped you of control and thrusts his cock deep inside you in quick, harsh movements. You’re fucking dripping, desire slicking your thighs and Logan’s. He feels so good and he’s so deep and he’s holding you in place so you have no choice but to take it, take the assaulting pace he’s set.

“Shit,” Logan grits out, arms tightly wrapped around your midsection as he fucks you from below. “This is what you wanted?”

You’re so overcome with euphoria, so deeply gone in the waves of pleasure, that you can only nod. Each time he’s fucks up into you, his pubic bone brushes your swollen, pulsing clit in a delicious graze that has tears gathering at your lash line.

“This is what you wanted? For me to fuck you dumb?” He mutters between clenched teeth, his hips moving in a deadly way now. “You just wanted to be fucking full of me, huh?”

“Yes!” You mewl, mouth falling onto his as your tongues messily swirl around, moans and groans mixing with the wet kisses.

The pressure building in your abdomen is almost too much, teasing you each time his cock slams inside. Despite being as close as physically possible, you ache to be closer.

You stop Logan, lifting yourself off him with a hiss. The sudden absence of him leaves you feeling uncomfortably empty and unconsciously, your hole clenches as wetness drips from you and onto the leather seats.

“What’s wro—“ you cut him off by pushing him until he’s laying back on the long seat. Once he’s settled down, as shock paints his expression, you climb shakily back onto his lap.

Sighs of relief echo through the air as your cunt sucks him down and a filthy squelch sounds. With him like this, he’s somehow deeper. You’re so incredibly full, it feels unreal.

The tingling, sweltering sensation in your cunt has you grinding across his lap, the base of his cock rubbing your clit delicately.

“Fuck. Doin so good for me.” Logan bends an arm behind his head so he can watch the way your eyes roll back with each grind, the way your tits jostle with each thrust and hump. “That’s it, baby.”

His praise has you finding a delicious, intoxicating rhythm as you lift up and down, up and down. The ridges and veins of his shaft kiss your walls and your thighs tremble with the feeling. Your hands reach back and grip your asscheeks to pull them apart further, needing his cock to go even deeper.

Logan is enamored by the sight before him— his pretty girl desperately splitting her cunt onto his cock, eyes rolling back with spit-slicked lips resembling an ‘o’.

His hand wraps around your throat tightly, pulling you down until your chest is flush against his. The action has you clumsy, arms swinging out to grip whatever is nearest to steady yourself. He places both hands across your ass and lifts you like you weigh nothing, mimicking your previous thrusts with more force, more speed.

A harmony of ‘uh, uh’s’ filter through his ears as Logan uses you and fucks you down onto his cock. You’re a whining mess, latching onto him tightly as his hips start to thrust upwards, his hands slamming your hips back down.

Suddenly, he wishes that he had his phone close because seeing you like this is a sight he wants to capture forever.

“C’mon, baby. Can feel how close you are.” He grits out between thrusts. One hand leaves your ass to cradle your slackened jaw, gripping tight enough as he forces your eyes on his.

Logan pushes his thumb past your lips and a deep moan falls from him as you suck at his finger. With your gaze never leaving his, you mimic a blowjob as you suck and swirl your tongue along his thumb.

“Mine.” Logan moans, his digit pressing down onto your tongue. He feels a sick sense of pleasure envelope him as you gag at the pressure, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “My fuckin’ girl.”

You nod instantly, a sweet, gooey feeling spreading across your chest at his words, at his voice. You pathetically grind down as Logan fucks upward, spit glistening your lips and his thumb as you messily suck on him.

An overbearing urge to get you to climax surges within him, and he sighs mockingly when you groan as his thumb slips from the confines of your pretty mouth. With a new vigor, Logan fucks you harder, faster, dirtier. He slips a hand between your sweaty bodies and when his fingers swirl over your clit, you explode.

The roughness of his hips, the precision of his fingertips on your clit, and the intensity of the moment catches up with you and you’re coming abruptly. It’s intense, the way a maddening bliss coats your entire body and soul. It leaves you breathless and dizzy as your eyes prickle with spots along your vision.

You’re moaning, words unintelligible against the warmth of Logan’s chest, and your cunt squeezes around him in sharp, sporadic pulses.

Logan’s so close to losing it and you don’t even realize it, too busy trying to inhale oxygen into greedy lungs. Huffs tumble from you, but instead of really trying to breathe, you lift your face to pepper wet, open mouthed kisses across his torso and that does it for him.

“Fuck…” Logan moans, gutteral and rough as he slams your hips down onto his cock, his cock painting your walls with come as euphoria encompasses him entirely. “Fuck, baby.”

Your body feels like it’s on fire— clit throbbing with overstimulation as Logan’s cock continues to fill you to the brim with his orgasm. Tears of pleasure have spilled over the apples of your cheeks, the strands of your hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face.

You continue to gently kiss up his chest and neck before you move to hold Logan’s face. Eyes fill with astonishment as you take in the way his eyes roll with the aftershocks of his peak. Thumbing at his cheeks, you kiss his lips gently before pressing kisses all along his face. His cheeks, the slope of his nose, his chin, forehead, and even the furrow of his brows.

You don’t even notice Logan staring at you with complete adoration until he removes your hand to kiss your palm.

You smile at him, bashful even with his softening cock is still inside you, stuffing you full of his come.

“C’mere.” He says, pulling you close until your lips melt over one another’s in a sweet, passionate kiss.

With a sudden thought, you pull away and fix him with a stern stare. Unfortunately for you, the furrow of your brows and purse of your lips only causes his heart to beat faster beneath the adamantium ribcage. You just look so pretty right now, sitting atop of him breathless and sweaty, a glaze settled over your irises.

“What's that face for?” His brow is raised and a smile is teasing his swollen lips.

“No more pushing me away, Logan.”

His gaze softens then, reminded of his self sabotage and the way he’s been adamant in keeping you at arms length, despite his yearn for more, his need for you.

“No more pushing you away, baby.” His lips meet yours softly, finality in his tone that eases your worries and wandering thoughts.

You lay your head down in the crook of his neck and hug him, intent to never let him go. Logan’s heart clenches with an emotion he’s not quite yet ready to face, so instead he presses a kiss to your hairline as his fingers stroke your back.

The atmosphere is no longer tense, but rather peaceful as every single desire has finally been satiated to the point of calmness. Eventually, he knows he’ll have to pull away from you and actually drive you home (and he will be coming inside, he can’t wait to properly fuck you in your bed), but he wants to stay in your embrace a little longer. It’s a blissful moment, and the serenity of it is something he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

“Logan?” You whisper, tired as you rub your nose along his neck.

“Yeah, honey.”

“I didn’t give that guy my number… I actually told him to fuck off.”

And when you say it with a slightly guilty tone, a laugh rumbles deep from his chest. He doesn’t care, because that little white lie caused him to finally say fuck it and allow you both to have each other, after months of built up tension and horribly hidden feelings.

The feeling you erupt in his chest is foreign and it scares him— but with the weight of you in his arms, he knows he’ll do anything to keep you.

˚｡⋆⟡♡⟡⋆｡˚ fin

[st4rpiece]

needing space after an argument pt. 2

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, sanji x reader summary: they earn your forgiveness CW: groveling, making up, fluff, and over 600 words each

pt. 1 | pt. 2

────────────────────₊˚.༄

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy wasn’t himself. It was the first thing everyone noticed after you left the ship. His laughter, usually loud and contagious, was quieter, forced. Mealtimes felt emptier, and the energy on the Sunny had shifted. He tried to act like nothing was wrong, but even the crew could see the shadow of regret lingering in his eyes.  

But now, here he was, standing in front of you in the quiet port town where you’d taken refuge after leaving the crew. His usual confidence was gone, replaced by a desperate determination.  

“I’m sorry,” he said for what must have been the tenth time. His voice was raw, almost breaking. “I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have told you to leave. I was stupid.”  

You stood with your arms crossed, your expression guarded. Seeing Luffy like this—so uncharacteristically vulnerable—caught you off guard, but the sting of his words still lingered, fresh and sharp.  

“Luffy, you can’t just say whatever you want when you’re mad and expect everything to go back to normal,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with exhaustion. “You told me to leave. So I did.”  

“I didn’t mean it,” he repeated, stepping closer but stopping just short of touching you. “I was mad and didn’t think. I... I need you on the ship. Not just because I want you there, but because you’re part of the crew. You’re important to us all and i shouldn’t have made you feel otherwise.”  

You searched his face, his big, earnest eyes pleading with you. You could see the regret there, the weight of his mistake hanging heavy on his shoulders. For a moment, your resolve wavered, but you quickly shook your head.  

“I can’t just come back because you say you’re sorry, Luffy. What happens the next time we fight? Are you going to tell me to leave again?”  

“No!” he blurted out, shaking his head vehemently. “No, I swear. I’ll never say anything like that again.”  

You frowned, unsure what to make of his declaration. “Luffy, words aren’t enough.”  

He nodded, his straw hat shadowing his eyes for a moment before he looked up at you with renewed determination. “Then I’ll show you. Whatever it takes.”  

True to his word, Luffy didn’t give up. He didn’t force you to return to the ship, but he didn’t leave the island either. Every day, he showed up—whether it was to bring you a freshly caught fish for dinner, fix something around the small inn you were staying at, or simply sit outside and wait in silence. He didn’t push, didn’t demand, but his presence was constant.  

When the ship needed supplies, he was the first to volunteer, taking on tasks he’d usually leave to someone else. The crew later told you how he’d started taking more responsibility, trying to step up as a better leader.  

Even when you didn’t speak to him, he never faltered. Every action, every small gesture, was his way of showing you how much he regretted his words.  

One evening, you found Luffy sitting on the dock, staring out at the ocean with his straw hat resting in his lap. He looked smaller somehow, as though the weight of his regret had worn him down.  

When he noticed you approaching, he stood up immediately, his expression shifting from surprise to cautious hope.  

“Why do you keep doing this?” you asked, crossing your arms.  

“Because I was wrong,” he said without hesitation. “Because I hurt you, and I have to make it right. Even if you never come back, I’ll keep trying. I don’t care how long it takes.”  

His sincerity stopped you in your tracks. He wasn’t making excuses, wasn’t brushing over your feelings like they didn’t matter. He had made changes—small ones, but noticeable—and for the first time, you truly believed he understood the gravity of what he’d done.  

You sighed, letting the silence linger before speaking. “Luffy... I’ll come back.”  

His eyes lit up with hope, his lips parting as though he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.  

“But,” you continued, holding up a finger, “this only works if things stay different. I’m not going back just to deal with the same problems again. I need to know you’re taking this seriously.”  

“I swear!” he said immediately, his voice brimming with determination. “I swear that things will be different. A good different. No more reckless fights for selfish reasons or saying things I don’t mean, I promise.”  

You studied him for a long moment, the sincerity and determination in his eyes unmistakable. Finally, you allowed a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips. “Alright, Lu.”  

Relief washed over his face as he heard the familiar nickname, and for the first time in weeks, you saw his grin return, bright and full of life.  

"I missed you so much, baby," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and certainty, as he wrapped his arms around you.

The comforting warmth of his embrace, felt like home—safe, secure, and exactly where you wanted to be.

Roronoa Zoro

Zoro wasn’t one to grovel. Stubborn and prideful as he was, apologies didn’t come easy for him. But as he sat alone on the Sunny’s deck, replaying his words from the fight, regret gnawed at him like a dull blade.  

The memory of your face—shocked, hurt, and then resigned—kept flashing in his mind. He hadn’t just lashed out; he’d cut deep. You were trying to help, and he’d thrown it back at you, calling you controlling and annoying when you didn’t deserve it.  

He groaned, pressing his palms against his face. He hated how small he felt for failing to show up to the dates you’d so carefully planned, how your suggestion—simple and kind—had poked at an insecurity he didn’t want to face. And now, because of his pride, he’d pushed you away.  

For days, you’d been distant, giving him space, but that only made the guilt worse. He needed to fix this.  

You were sitting on a quiet hillside overlooking the ocean when Zoro found you. The breeze tugged at your clothes, and you looked peaceful—too peaceful, considering how much turmoil you’d left him in.  

“Hey,” he called softly, his voice unusually hesitant.  

You glanced at him, surprised to see the normally stoic swordsman looking... sheepish. He stood awkwardly a few feet away, his hand rubbing the back of his neck.  

“What is it, Zoro?” you asked, your tone calm but distant.  

He swallowed hard, his fingers twitching at his sides before he took a step closer. “I wanted to apologize.”  

That caught your attention. Your brows lifted in mild surprise, but you said nothing, waiting for him to continue.  

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” he said, his voice low and gruff, but steady. “You weren’t being controlling or annoying. You were just... trying to help.” He exhaled heavily as if forcing the words out of himself. “And I was an idiot.”  

You blinked, his sincerity throwing you off guard. “Zoro—”  

“Let me finish, please,” he interrupted, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was something raw in his gaze—an uncharacteristic vulnerability. “I’ve been thinking about it, and... I hate that I’m always late. I hate knowing you’re waiting for me while I’m stuck wandering around like an idiot who can’t follow a simple route. It’s embarrassing.”  

Your expression softened, but you stayed quiet, letting him speak.  

“When you suggested we go together, I know it wasn’t because you thought I was useless,” he continued, his voice tightening. “But that’s how it made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough to get it right on my own. And instead of dealing with that, I took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that.”  

He took a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “But I don’t think you’re controlling or annoying. You’re the most patient and understanding person for putting up with me. So you deserve better and I want to be that.”  

The sincerity in his voice was almost overwhelming, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. He wasn’t just saying the words—he meant them.  

“I know I can’t just say sorry and expect everything to go back to normal,” he added, glancing away briefly before meeting your gaze again. “So, please baby just… give me a chance to make it right.”  

Your lips parted in surprise. Zoro wasn’t the type to take the initiative when it came to things like this, but the determination in his eyes was unmistakable.  

After a long pause, you let out a soft sigh, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “One last chance.”  

He nodded, relief flashing across his face, but there was also a quiet resolve in his expression. This wasn’t just a promise—it was a vow.  

The next time you guys went on a date, Zoro was ready. He showed up early, finally getting the chance to wait on you. He led you to a quiet clearing overlooking the sea, a picnic already set up with food he’d personally asked Sanji to help him prepare.  

The effort was clear in every little detail, from the way he chose the spot (easily accessible, no chance to get lost) to the careful decorations and crafts you mentioned liking/wanting to try. Showing that despite his stoic nature, he was listening to you during previous dates. Even now as you spoke, he would chime in at just the right moments.  

It wasn’t perfect—he stumbled over a few of his words and complained when a seagull tried to swipe the food—but it was Zoro, trying in his own way. And that meant everything.  

By the time the date ended, you leaned back on the blanket, gazing up at the stars, feeling closer to him than ever before. When he reached for your hand, you let him, squeezing it gently.  

Zoro glanced down at your intertwined fingers, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. His gaze softened, and he took a deep breath before speaking. “I know you agreed to give me another chance, but I need to know if you’re still interested in giving me that chance.”

Your heart softened at the rare vulnerability in his voice. You turned to meet his eyes, and they were steady, full of quiet determination.  

A soft smile tugged at your lips, and you leaned into him as the waves crashed gently in the distance. For a man of few words, Zoro was surprisingly good at them.

“Well,” you began, tilting your head with a teasing glint in your eye, “that depends. Are you going to keep being so dramatic about it?” You bit back a laugh as you watched the tips of his ears turn red, his expression shifting into a familiar scowl.

“Tch, not being dramatic,” he grumbled, looking away, but the redness in his ears betrayed him.

You chuckled softly and squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “I was being serious about giving you that second chance,” you said warmly. His shoulders relaxed slightly, and the tension in his jaw eased.

“But,” you continued, your tone more firm, “next time something like this happens, promise that you’ll communicate it properly. Okay? No more bottling things up.”

Zoro stared at you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before nodding once. “You have my word.” His voice was low but steady, carrying the weight of his promise.

“Good.” You smiled, squeezing his hand again as a soft breeze brushed past, carrying with it the sound of the waves.

God Usopp

The day had been quiet, almost too quiet, and the silence weighed heavy between you and Usopp. Since your argument, things haven’t been the same. You still spoke, but the words felt hollow, and the laughter you once shared now seemed distant and forced. He noticed it all—the way your smile never quite reached your eyes, the strain in your voice when you tried to act like nothing was wrong.  

And it tore him apart.  

Usopp sat on the deck after dinner, absentmindedly fiddling with a half-finished invention. His fingers moved on instinct, but his thoughts were stuck on your last conversation. He hated himself for the way he’d lashed out, for the way he’d let his insecurities push you away.  

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sea in shades of orange and pink, he made up his mind. He couldn’t let this fester any longer.  

When you stepped onto the deck for some air, Usopp hesitated, watching you from a distance. Finally, he stood, his hands clenching at his sides as he approached you.  

“Hey,” he called softly.  

You turned, surprised to see him. “Oh, hey.” Your voice was casual, but your guarded expression told him you were bracing for something.  

“Can we talk?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically serious.  

You nodded, following him to a quieter spot on the ship where the others couldn’t overhear. The soft sound of the waves filled the silence as Usopp struggled to find the right words.  

“I’ve been... thinking,” he began, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “About what I said. About the fight.” He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. Your brows furrowed, but you stayed quiet, giving him the space to explain.

“I know you don’t see me as weak,” he continued, his voice growing tight. “But hearing you scream for him... it made me feel useless.” He exhaled sharply, his hand tightening around the railing. “And I hate feeling like that. I know I’m not like Luffy, Zoro, or Sanji. I’m not the guy who can punch through walls or take down ten enemies at once, but... I at least want to be someone you can count on. Someone you can feel protected with.”

He paused, his words faltering slightly. “But instead of talking to you about it, I projected my insecurities onto you, and made it seem like you were wrong for asking our friends for help. For that, I’m sorry.”

The vulnerability in his words hit you hard, and guilt pooled in your chest. “Baby...” you started, your voice soft. “I’m sorry, too. I never meant to make you feel that way.” You stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. “But you are someone I can count on. Someone who’s saved my ass more times than I can count. Your strength may not look like theirs, but it’s just as important.”

He finally looked at you, his eyes wide, searching for any trace of doubt. “You... you really mean that?”

“Heck yeah, I do,” you said without hesitation. “I trust you, Usopp. I always have.”

A small, hesitant smile tugged at his lips, and he let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him. “Thanks... I needed to hear that," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

After a moment, he straightened and rubbed the back of his head, suddenly looking sheepish. “Actually, uh, there’s something I’ve been working on. For you. I wanted to make something that could help you in a fight.”  

Your brows lifted in surprise. “Really? What is it?”  

Grinning now, Usopp reached into his bag and pulled out a small, compact gadget. “It’s not finished yet, but it’s kind of like a smoke bomb, but better. It creates a flash of light to blind enemies and a smoke screen to cover your escape. I thought... you know, it might come in handy.”  

You took the gadget from him, turning it over in your hands. “Usopp, this is amazing.”  

“Yeah, well,” he said, scratching his cheek, his grin turning bashful. “I wanted to make sure you had another thing to keep you safe. In case no one else is around.”  

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “Thank you, Usopp. I mean it.”  

He relaxed then, the tension between you finally melting away. “I’ll finish it soon,” he promised, his confidence returning. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll come up with even more stuff for you with full bragging rights.”  

"Thanks, now I can let everyone know just how my amazing boyfriend is," you laughed—genuinely this time—and Usopp’s chest swelled with pride. He knew he still had work to do, but for now, the weight of your fight had lifted, and the bond between you felt stronger than ever.  

Vinesmoke Sanji

Sanji stood alone on the deck, the moonlight casting a silver glow over his slumped figure. He leaned against the railing, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, though he hadn’t taken a drag in minutes. His mind replayed every moment of your relationship—the laughter, the stolen glances, the warmth of your touch. And then, inevitably, it would circle back to the breakup.  

He’d failed you. The person who mattered more to him than anyone else in the world. His actions—so thoughtless, so wrapped in habit—had made you feel second to strangers. The realization haunted him, clawing at his chest.  

Sanji thought of groveling, of falling to his knees and begging you to take him back, but he knew you too well. That would only push you further away. You were someone who needed actions, not words, and he knew his words had already failed you. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to give up. You were his person, his muse, his everything. How could he possibly accept a life without you in it?  

So he did the only thing he could. He began to show you through his actions.  

The change was immediate. The next time the ship docked at an island, Sanji didn’t so much as glance at the women who usually flocked to him. When they batted their lashes and called out for his attention, he brushed them off politely and kept his focus on his task. His compliments, once scattered freely to strangers, were now reserved only for you. Even when you ignored him, his words never wavered—soft, sincere, and meant only for you.  

In battle, Sanji was more relentless than ever. But his priority was always your safety, stepping in before danger could reach you, even if it meant taking a hit himself. When the crew sat down for meals, he made sure your favorite dishes were prepared just the way you liked them, his eyes flicking to your face to see if you’d noticed.  

And when he thought you weren’t looking, he’d linger nearby, silently watching you. There was a sadness in his gaze as he admired the person he’d once had the privilege of holding close. You saw him sometimes, hovering at a distance, and though you tried to ignore it, part of you couldn’t deny the pang in your chest. You still had feelings for him—of course you did. But you couldn’t settle for someone who had once made you doubt your place in their life.  

Weeks passed, and Sanji’s quiet devotion didn’t falter. Even now as he stood near the railing, waiting for you, his hands slightly trembling. He had spent all day preparing for this moment, and now the weight of his plan felt heavier than ever.  

When you finally stepped out onto the deck, he straightened immediately, smoothing his suit jacket with nervous fingers. "Hey," he called softly, his voice careful, like he was afraid of scaring you off.  

"Hey," you replied, your tone hesitant but curious. He’d been walking on eggshells around you for weeks, and now this—an invitation for "something special" without much detail. Against your better judgment, you’d said yes, curiosity getting the better of you.  

He smiled faintly, stepping toward you. "I, uh, thought we could spend the evening together. Just... talk."  

You raised a brow. "Talk?"  

He nodded, motioning for you to follow him. "Come on. I’ve got something to show you."  

Despite the uncertainty in your chest, you followed him across the deck, and your eyes widened when he led you to a corner of the ship bathed in soft, golden light from lanterns he had strung up. A blanket was spread out neatly on the deck, adorned with a small basket, plates of your favorite snacks, and a bottle of your favorite drink.  

"Sanji..." you murmured, taken aback.  

"I know it’s not much," he said quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "But I wanted to do something for you. Something simple. Something that doesn’t involve me screwing it up."  

You blinked, your hesitation softening slightly at his earnestness. "You didn’t have to go through all this trouble."  

"I did," he countered, his voice firm but warm. "I needed to."  

He gestured for you to sit, and after a moment’s pause, you did, settling down on the blanket. Sanji sat across from you, his hands fidgeting in his lap.  

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the ship filling the space between you. Finally, Sanji took a deep breath and looked at you, his expression more serious than you’d seen in a long time.  

"My love," he began, "I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since... since we broke up. And I just... I need you to know how sorry I am."  

You looked away, unsure how to respond, but he continued.  

"I wasn’t the boyfriend you deserved," he admitted, his voice low. "I made you feel like you had to compete for my attention, and that’s unforgivable. You should’ve never felt like anything less than the most important person in my life. That’s on me."  

His gaze was unwavering as he spoke, and you couldn’t help but feel the sincerity in his words.  

"I still have feelings for you," he said, his voice trembling slightly. "I never stopped. And I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, or even to trust me again right away. But I need you to know that I’ve changed. I’m changing. And I’ll do anything to prove it to you."  

You stared at him, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Sanji was always smooth with his words, but this was different. There was no charm, no performative flair—just raw honesty.  

"Sanji..." you started, your voice faltering. You swallowed hard, your hands gripping the edge of the blanket. "I... I still have feelings for you too. But..."  

"But you don’t trust me," he finished for you, his tone understanding rather than hurt.  

You nodded. "It’s not that I don’t want to. I just... I’m scared of getting hurt again."  

He reached across the blanket, his hand stopping just short of yours. "I understand," he said softly. "And I don’t blame you. I don’t want you to rush into anything you’re not ready for. If we have to take things slow, then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll show you, not just with words but with actions, that you’re the only one in my heart."  

His hand lingered near yours, and after a moment, you tentatively placed your hand over his. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through you, and you looked up to meet his gaze.  

"Okay," you said quietly. "We can try. But slow, Sanji. No rushing, no grand gestures to win me over. Just... be honest with me."  

A smile broke across his face, softer and more genuine than any you’d seen in weeks. "Slow it is," he promised.  

For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between you eased. You still had a long way to go, but as you sat there, sharing a quiet meal under the lantern light, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.  

───────────────────₊˚.༄

One Piece Masterlist

hey…I was supposed to post this yesterday but I ended up working a double 😭.

[this is lightly edited]

anyways I saw a couple people asking about a tag list ngl i don’t know shit about that 😭😭 but hopefully this finds you !!

and for the op women/queer smau I will be posting that soon as well but I got a really cute idea from anon yesterday and I want to start on that first.

[dollfacefantasy]

hi! i just finished reading your most recent fic, (amazing btw 💕) and keep reflecting on the part where leon calls reader a little disappointing.. so i was wondering if you could write some angst with DI leon where he’s quite mean and degrading and saying how he’s disappointed and stuff with reader, yk! then leon lovingly fucks reader after as a way to say sorry? (daddy kink included) thank you <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon goes a little too hard on you one night during sex. upon realizing how much it hurt you, he knows he has to make it up somehow.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, praise/degradation, age gap (20s, early forties), mentions of spanking & not using safeword

word count: 5.2k

a/n: part 1 <3 took me a while to figure out how i wanted to do this but i hope you guys enjoy.

Something isn't right.

That's all you could think while watching Leon idly stir pasta sauce at the stove. You were perched nearby at the counter, observing him as if he was under experimentation. While to anyone else his actions would appear completely mundane, you knew that this gesture was only the first step in something larger. 

He never cooked you dinner. In the year and six weeks you'd been with him, he'd only ever made you a real meal twice before. Once being six weeks ago on your anniversary, and the other about four months before that, a couple days after you had a fight that nearly blew the wheels off your relationship.

In each case, there was a reason behind it. Whether to celebrate or make amends, neither was an innocuous decision made at random. You weren't even sure that Leon possessed the ability to be spontaneous, but that was a separate issue for another time. The obvious meaning behind his actions was the cause of the splashing of the noodles being poured into the boiling water making your stomach turn. 

Because today wasn't anything special. There wasn't a birthday or an achievement to make an occasion of. That meant it was the other option, the makeup option, and you were extra sure of this because the two of you hadn't exactly been the perfect picture of being in love lately.

"Honey, could you put these on the table for me?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

He looks at you over his shoulder to make sure you see the plates and silverware he's referring to.

"Yeah, sure," you respond.

You hop off the stool you were sitting on and grab the things he wanted you to. This was even worse. He wasn't going to let you eat in peace at the counter like you did when he wasn't here. No, he was going to stare you down across the dining table.

But you still do what he asks. Sighing, you haphazardly put a plate down on both ends of the table with silverware bordering each side to match. You grab glasses next and put them there too. Once everything is in its perfect place, you plop down at your seat, deciding to wait here until he joins you. This chair was out of view from the kitchen which meant you could get a few moments alone to brace yourself.

It's not that anything terrible was going to happen. It was just going to be a conversation. But it would be a relationship conversation, an emotional conversation, something neither of you were good at.

You weren't good at it because you'd never been good at it. Ever since you were a kid, the slightest spotlight put on your feelings had barbs forming in your throat and stinging, salty tears brimming your lash line. Everything had to be coaxed out of you, or you were sure to break down. 

Leon wasn't good at it because his version of a conversation came across more as an interrogation. When talking about feelings, he never wanted to talk about his own. He'd never share what was going on in his own head, he only wanted to know what was going on in yours. You were the one struggling; therefore, you were the one he needed to help. You were the mission to be resolved.

You supposed that was consistent with everything else about the man you loved. He always wanted to be the one in control, the one managing the details of your life. It came from the desire to protect. He showed his love by keeping you safe, keeping you from being like him. He went away for weeks on end following orders. When he came home, he liked to be the one doling them out.

And that was how you liked it too. You weren't some unwilling victim. When he offered to try this stuff out with you, you couldn't have been happier. You liked being told to do this and do it now. You liked the security of his lap, the promise that no matter how bad things got he would be there to wipe away your tears and make it all better.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. You were pretty sure you knew what the specific topic of conversation would be tonight. You'd been distant lately. You could already hear his voice ringing through your head telling you that. For the past couple weeks, you hadn't been you. You hadn't been as sweet on him, kissing his cheeks and stroking his hair while you cuddled. Hadn't been hanging off his body or climbing all over him every chance you got. Hadn't been as eager to squeal daddy when he made you cum.

You knew why, and you knew he didn't. That was by design though. You didn't want him to know. This whole situation had spiraled so far out of control, and you just wanted to sweep your mess under the rug and forget about it. You didn't need daddy's help cleaning it up.

It shouldn't even be that big of a deal. Nothing that bad had happened.

The night that had your panties in a bunch happened a few weeks ago. You'd had a shitty day and so had Leon. You were looking to act out, and he was looking to punish.

You gave him some attitude. A few eye rolls and sharp responses when he asked you things. Looking back, you think maybe you should've sensed he was in a bad mood and just dropped it. That's when the other part of you chimes in and wonders why he couldn't do the same for you. Why couldn't he feel out your emotions and realize you needed him? But then you start to feel emotionally stunted, expecting your boyfriend to be a mind reader. 

This internal conversation never gets very far.

That night he hadn't read your mind. He'd taken you over his lap and given you a spanking. It was pretty standard. You'd had over a dozen of those by his hand at this point. The slaps weren't the problem. His palm hit you all the same, bringing the sting you craved. The part that stuck with you and created this wedge was just him. It was how he spoke, the way he looked at you. 

You could still see the eyes you fell in love with looking at you with nothing but disappointment.

You could still hear him growling in your ear when he had you bent in half and fucked you afterwards. He had you face down on the couch, holding your head against the cushion while he jackhammered into you.

"If you want my attention, all you have to do is ask. You know that. But you never fucking do it. You play these games with me. You think I wanna put up with that? You think I come home and wanna hear you bitching at me too?"

You weren't even sure what about it had got you. It was harsh, sure, but it was supposed to be.

"I want you to be a good girl. To behave. I don't want to deal with a bratty little slut."

He'd said stuff like that before. But in that moment it didn't feel like daddy was mad at you, it felt like your boyfriend was. It didn't feel like you were naughty or misbehaving. It felt like you were pathetic.

"You want daddy's attention so bad, next time you say please like you're supposed to. Don't make me go through the chore of disciplining your ass again. I'm over it."

By some miracle you still got to cum. He came inside you like normal. When he pulled out he'd fallen back onto the cushions of the couch to catch his breath. He lied there, fingers wiping the sweat from his brow as if he'd put in a hard day's work. You sat there unsure of what to do with yourself. After he'd come down a little more, he'd pulled you close, kissed all over your face like normal and taken to you to bed. But you'd laid there with your eyes open, trying not to cry as he snored against the back of your neck.

You're snapped out of your memories by the thud of the pot on the dining room table. Leon stood a few feet away from you, oven mitts on both hands as he placed the dish between your seats. He cracks a smile at you when you look up and meet his eyes.

"I made way too much. I hope you're hungry," he teases.

You respond with a weak grin of your own. Sitting up straight in your chair, you blink a few times and rub your face as if that'd be enough to clear away the past and magically fix everything.

Two of his fingers duck below your chin and guide you to look at him again.

"You ok?" he asks. His voice is tender like it is most of the time when he speaks to you.

"Yeah. I'm just tired," you tell him with a more convincing smile. You're not sure if it works, but he seems to accept it for now.

"Alright," he says, leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth.

He takes his seat across the table, opposite yours. You get the privilege of serving your portion first. You shovel a helping of pasta onto your plate. The red sauce spreads on your plate, and you grab a piece of toast to soak some of it up. Leon repeats your actions and gets some of the food for himself. He had made too much. You'd definitely have leftovers, but that was nothing to complain about. He made dinner before these conversations for a reason. Like anything else, he was a good cook when he wanted to be.

The meal starts off silent as you had expected it to. You both eat instead of trying to talk. Forks hitting plates and bread crunching into two fills the room in the place of words. A sense of calm comes over you, but you know it won't last forever. Eventually, Leon does break the silence with some basic questions. How was your day, wasn't this summer heat killer, did you see he fixed that thing in the garage you'd asked him to. It's fine. Just fine like everything had been for the past couple weeks.

The conversation reaches another lull though, and this is when he goes for the killing strike.

"Baby, I think we need to talk," he sighs.

You raise your eyebrows as if you hadn't been expecting this.

"About what?" you ask after swallowing your mouthful of pasta.

Now he raises his eyebrows. He's not disappointed, but he knows you're playing dumb and doesn't appreciate it. It's affectionate though. It doesn't look like it did a few weeks ago.

"I know something's bothering you," he tries softly.

"I told you I was tired," you shrug and look away.

"It's not just today though. It's been more than a few days," he says.

You sigh and put your fork down. You're conscious of every part of your reaction in an effort to avoid looking pouty or melting into tears.

"I don't know. The past few weeks I just haven't felt great. It's not like a crisis situation or something," you say.

"Then tell me about it, sweetheart," he says, trying to will you to look up at him with his gentle tone, "I want to help, but I don't know what's wrong. Every time I try, you pull away."

"Not on purpose," you add. It's an important defense to you.

"I'm not saying it's on purpose," he says. You can tell he's trying to be as non-confrontational as possible. Maybe he does pick up on your emotions a little bit. "All I'm saying is that I'm worried about you."

And with one little sentence, you feel the spikes starting to poke through. You look down and place your palm on your eyes. You felt ten times more pathetic than you had a few weeks ago. He can see you're getting closer to breaking, so he continues.

"You can talk to me. If you need something or I did something, I just want to make it better," he continues, "I don't like not knowing what's going on in that pretty head. I like it even less seeing you look so sad."

Your lip wobbles. A last resort to hold in the barrage of emotions. "It's nothing," you choke out.

"It's not nothing if it has you this upset," he counters, speaking quietly, "Just talk to me, little love."

That's all it takes, and you can't hold it anymore. Tears leak from your water line and draw limpid streaks down your face. You bite your lip to nip any audible cries in the bud. It doesn't matter though, he still sees the small droplets of water.

"My baby," he coos, "C'mere."

You rise to your feet in an instant and round the table. He pushes his chair back and takes you into his lap. You're cradled by his warmth, safe against his chest as he rubs your back. As much as you loved mentally complaining about his interrogations, maybe this is what you needed. Maybe this worked for you.

"You're ok. I'm right here," he murmurs. 

He kisses your hairline and cups the back of your neck to keep you close. He lets you cry it out before attempting any more questions. Once it seems you've settled though, the spotlight is back on you.

"What's wrong, sunshine?" he whispers.

Try as he might, you still couldn't bring yourself to say the words. It was like two wires in your brain that just did not physically connect. Expressing pain was hard enough, but expressing pain that he caused? This inability killed you, it really did. Thinking about it brings another sob from your lips. You wanted to beat your own ass till she had enough of a spine to just say a few simple words so this could all be over.

You can't do that though, so Leon continues on with his tender questions.

"Can you tell me when you started feeling this way?" he asks with a hint of hesitation.

There that was one you could answer. "Few weeks ago."

He nods, taking any information he could get as crucial.

"Alright... is there something stressing you out?" he asks.

You shake your head. Technically there was something stressing you out, but while you were breaking down, 'stressing out' was code for responsibilities, so the answer is no.

"Problems with your friends?"

Another head shake.

"Family?"

No.

"...Me?"

You almost shake your head again. You could swing just making something up on the spot. But that wouldn't be right to him. He'd done the work of the guessing game and come to the conclusion fair and square. You nod yes.

A whirlpool of emotion forms in his pupils, but it's almost like he knew he was to blame. He nods and sighs. His hand doesn't stop rubbing your back.

"Ok," he breathes, "You gotta give me a hint, honey."

You found words coming a bit easier now that he had led you this far.

"Remember a few weeks ago when you got mad at me?" you rasp and look at him with your watery eyes.

He blinks at you. "We got into a fight a few weeks ago?" he asks. 

There's genuine confusion in his tone. He didn't remember. Or at least this day didn't stick out in his mind. He hadn't been dwelling on it since it happened, hadn't been wondering if it meant something greater in the context of your relationship. You weren't sure if that brought you relief or frustration.

"No. It was like... it was when I had a bad day and I came home and you were watching that stupid cop show. And I kept talking. And you told me to shut up. And I said you were only watching it cause you didn't know how to change the channel," you list off some of the events that led to the infamous incident.

He smiles upon remembering that little joke. He found it funny. Then why did he get so mean?

"Don't tell me you've been mad cause I wouldn't let you watch your show instead," he teases.

"No, it's not that. Remember after when you spanked me? And then we fucked on the couch..." you sniffle.

He pauses to think about your words. The gears turn in his head, the pieces fall into place. The lightbulb goes off in his eyes.

"Oh yeah. I remember that," he says. He remembers, but he doesn't understand. "What about it?"

His thumb swipes a few tears away while waiting for the answer you were still trying to formulate.

"Well... like... I don't know," you start. You felt ridiculous verbalizing it. "You just kinda hurt my feelings."

His brows furrow. He still doesn't get it.

"Hurt your feelings?" he repeats, "I didn't hit you too hard, did I? You know if that ever happens you have the word. You say it, and I stop for you in a heartbeat. You know that."

"It didn't hurt like that... it's just some of the stuff you said," you say. The urge to pull away is starting to come back.

"Sweetheart," he says. His voice is dripping with concern. He didn't remember saying anything bad enough that you'd still be twisted into knots over it multiple weeks later. "You know you can use the word for that kind of thing too. Please tell me you know that."

"I know that," you start, feeling a little ashamed. This was exactly why you didn't want to talk about this.

"If I say something that hurts you this bad, you need to tell me. Right when I say it. You tell me to stop. You let me remind you it's not real," he says, quiet but firm. He holds you tighter, unintentionally squeezing more tears out of you. "I only say things I think will get you off. I don't say them to hurt you."

You hide your face in his neck. You felt so fucking pathetic.

"Hey, hey, hey. Shhh. It's ok. I just... I want you to understand, baby," he murmurs. He rocks you back and forth on his lap a bit before speaking again. "Can you tell me why you didn't use the word?"

Leon prayed with everything he had that it wasn't because you were scared of him. If that was it, you might as well pick up the fork off the table and jam it right into his heart. You don't answer, and it worries him. All he gets from you is the feeling of tears dribbling down his throat.

"Did it not hurt till afterwards? Did you think I wouldn't stop?" he coaxes.

You shake your head. "Cause... because I don't want you to think I can't take it," you weep.

While he's relieved it's not what he feared, he didn't expect this.

"What do you mean? You can't take it?" he repeats.

"I don't want you to think I'm a bratty little girl. I told you that stuff was ok, and I don't wanna tap out and make you feel all guilty and stuff," you cry, the words rushing from your mouth.

He sighs and his eyes close for a second. He did feel like a piece of shit now, but with what you just said, he didn't want you knowing that.

"My sweet girl," he says against your head while rubbing your back, "I would never think that about you. The word is there for you to use it whenever you want. It doesn't matter if it makes me worry I hurt you. That's not a bad thing."

You cry more into his neck, clinging to him as if you're trying to merge into one.

"I just don't wanna disappoint you," you sob.

"Baby, baby, baby," he whispers, holding you tight against his chest and rocking you again, "You never disappoint me. You don't. Not when you act bratty, not when you break a rule. That shit is all a game. It's a game, and if you don't like it, we don't have to play it.

"I know you're sensitive. I know you get emotional. I'm with you knowing that stuff. It doesn't make me think of you as an obligation. I like being daddy, but it doesn't make me think of you like that. If it makes you feel like that, we can stop. You're more important than any of it."

"I do like it," you weep, "I just... I don't want you to think I'm pathetic."

"I don't think that. I never have," he says and kisses your temple, "You're my baby. My pretty girl. My favorite person on this planet."

You sniffle and snake your arms around him tighter.

"Pathetic or disappointment never cross my mind when I look at you. Half the time I don't even have thoughts when I see you. You're so fucking gorgeous you take 'em all away," he whispers.

He nudges your head out of the crook of his neck so he can see you. His lips land on your forehead first. Then your nose. Then each cheek. And finally your lips.

"Look at me," he whispers.

You do what he asks and look up at him. You look into his eyes. These were the eyes you fell in love with.

"You are not a disappointment," he says before a kiss, "You are not pathetic. I love you. I love you when you're being good or when you're being a little shit. I love when you wanna call me daddy, but you'd still be mine if you decided you never wanted to say that word again."

"I still wanna call you daddy," you sniffle and give him a small smile.

He chuckles and returns the expression. "That was a quick decision," he teases, "Doesn't sound like you thought it through."

"I did. I still want my daddy," you say and put your head down on his shoulder.

"Good. Cause I'm right here," he says softly, "Daddy's got you."

The problem wasn't totally resolved in Leon's mind. Never again did he want to cause you weeks worth of stress over something like this. But for now, he was happy to see you smile. He could accept this temporary fix. He nuzzles your neck and places a few soft kisses on your throat.

"I think daddy needs to make it up to his baby for being so mean to her. For making her cry like that," he whispers.

A warm tingle branches out through your spine and curves around your ribs. You scoot closer to him in his lap and shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Don't give me that shrug. You know you like being spoiled. Being the center of attention," he whispers.

"Yeah..." you whisper in his ear.

He grunts as he rises to his feet with you in his arms. Your legs lock around his waist before his feet even start moving. He'd clean up the table later. Right now was about you.

He carries you through the house, tosses you onto the bed. You squeak at your glide through the air. He pulls his shirt off and drops his pants before climbing on top of you. Always efficient your Leon.

The warm lengths of his muscular limbs encompass you against the mattress. He starts by kissing you on the mouth, but his lips soon trail down to your neck. Tongue and teeth brush over the balmy skin of your neck. He nips a few hickeys along the curve of your throat, listening for every little hitch in your breath or stifled moan.

"Always with those pretty little noises..." he mumbles against your skin.

He inhales you before moving away, gets his fix of your scent before his hands push your shirt over your head and toss to the floor with his. His hands rub up and down your side, gently squeezing and massaging while his mouth migrates towards your chest. He lays kisses at the tops of your breasts. He can feel your heart pattering against his lips. It drives him crazy, feeling what he does to you down to that level.

Your legs wrap around his waist and pull his body closer. You couldn't get close enough after the weeks of distance. He groans as his crotch comes flush against yours. It's as if he can feel the heat of your center through the layers of cloth that separate you.

He kisses between your breasts, forcing himself to remove your bra before he thinks about your pants. He nuzzles the two spheres of flesh with all the care he holds in his body. He'd never been good with words, and the last few weeks proved as much. Showing you physically how he feels is easier.

"Haven't been able to kiss my girls properly in too long," he murmurs and glances up at you, cocky smile in his eyes.

"You're stupid," you laugh quietly.

"Hey. That's not a nice word, princess. Not one you should be calling your daddy," he chides before giving one of your nipples a few sucks.

You sigh contently and arch into the wet embrace of his mouth. "Sorry daddy," you smile.

"I'm sure you are."

He gives your tits some more attention, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't antsy to get his fingers wet. They fumble with the button on your shorts before he lifts your legs and practically tears the garment loose. He kisses your ankle and down your calf to your knee where his hands take over and press them up against your torso. He can feel your slick creating a wet patch on the front of his boxers and ruts into it. His cock grows stiffer beneath the fabric as if trying to get to you.

"You ready for me, babydoll? Dripping like a good girl? Gonna be nice and easy for daddy to slide right in," he says while leaning down to be close to you.

You nod eagerly, your nose bumping against his.

"Nothing makes it better than having daddy inside, hm?" he coos.

"Don't need anything else," you say and sling your arms around his neck.

That's all he needs to hear. He pushes his underwear down his legs enough so that his cock is free. You feel it slot between your puffy outer folds and prod at your entrance.

He slips it inside, and you both groan. Your head tilts back, allowing him to kiss at your neck some more. You'd had sex since that fight, but this was the first time you were feeling full. The first time you were feeling like his again.

"Daddy," you whine and grab at him. Just what he'd been missing.

His hips start to rock. The bones in his pelvis press right up against your ass. He fucks you deep and slow at first. Each thrust glides over a myriad of sweet spots. Every time he pulls back, you just want him to push right back in.

"That's it, honey. Tell daddy how much you missed him," he grunts.

You don't say it with words. You tighten up around him, squeezing his dick like if it gets out you'll die. The sensation wrangles a moan out of him, and his face drops into your neck. He digs his forearms into the mattress and uses the leverage to pump himself into you harder.

"My perfect, perfect girl. Don't know what I'd do without you," he whispers.

Your eyes flutter shut. You just listen to the sound of his panting, feel his heart beating for you. Your thighs tremble while pressing into his waist. Your toes curl as his hips strike the right angle to batter right where you need him.

"You could never disappoint me," he mutters. You feel his lips moving against your throat. "I love you, sweet girl. Nothing you do could ever change that."

The words are almost enough to make you get all weepy again, but you'd cried enough for one day. Instead your body latches onto him tighter.

"Harder," you whimper.

"You sure, baby?" he hums.

Your nod comes quickly. "Need to feel it more. Need it harder."

So he gives it to you harder. His eyes clamp shut and shroud his vision in darkness. He focuses on thrusting hard, clapping his skin against yours over and over. He pounds into you while pressing his face harder against you too.

You show your gratitude with a whine. His shaft hits just right, fills you up just the way you'd been aching for.

"Almost there, daddy- Can I-" you stumble over words.

"Yeah, sweetheart. You don't gotta ask tonight. You cum when you're ready," he says.

That's how you know he's really sorry. He keeps fucking into you until he feels your limbs fizzling from the proximity to release. Everything about you gets shaky. Your breaths are ragged and labored, your hands vibrate while trying to clutch at him.

"Fuck fuck fuck," you whimper.

The spark goes off inside you, and you cum hard. Your body goes taut and rolls through the waves of euphoria. He can't resist your walls pulsating around him. It's only a handful of seconds before his tummy is fluttering and his seed is spilling from him into your cunt.

"Inside, daddy," you whine as if he needed the direction.

"That's what I'm doing, baby," he grunts through clenched teeth.

He drools against your neck while his hips twitch and the last few drops leak from him. The saliva gets smeared in the messy kisses he leaves on you while pulling out. He rolls over but scoops you up with him, cradling you against his chest in a position that isn't necessarily comfortable but you love anyway.

A series of over the top kisses land on your face. You scrunch your nose and shake your head.

"Quit it. I already forgave you," you giggle, "You don't gotta slobber on me."

"Tsk tsk. Ungrateful," he tuts affectionately, "You know if I didn't give you these, you'd be begging for 'em."

"Mmm... maybe," you acquiesce with a little smile.

"Sure, sure. Maybe. Silly girl," he mumbles and nuzzles your cheek.

The playful touches continues for a moment before he calms down and softens up. You look towards his eyes, and his fingers sweep down your cheek.

"You're ok now?" he asks.

You nod. "We're ok now."

To give him the final shred of reassurance that you could, you stick out your pinky. He rolls his eyes, but sticks his out to and hooks it with yours. He knew you were back to yourself since your inability to be serious had made a reappearance. He smacks a kiss on your lips to seal the deal. He can feel you smiling into it.

[healingpage]

Not made of glass - choi soobin

ꕥ pairing: choi soobin x afab reader

ꕥ genres: smut (basically pwp)

ꕥ warnings: soft!dom soobin to hard!dom, sub!reader, fingering, unprotected sex, big!dick soobin lol, oral m!receiving, so many petnames i melted, squirting, spanking

ꕥ wc: 2.9k

ꕥ a/n: the title is pretty much self-explanatory... my first smut for soobin! i want him so bad merry christmas to those celebrating!!

taglist: @hanhani29 @bloomngspring @hhoneyhan

A few months in since you started dating, Soobin is still ever the kind, composed and gentle boyfriend. Princess treatment is always on the maximum level, the reserved soft spot only for you that you can’t help but wonder sometimes how he is the same guy that can’t skip a day without getting into silly quarrels with Beomgyu. He takes you on a date at least every once in a while, knowing his hectic schedule you are more than grateful that he makes some time for you. His love language being act of service, you won’t have to lift a finger around him. Your friends call him a gentle giant, a nickname that makes you laugh every time you are reminded of it.

At the end of a date day, usually he would stay overnight at yours. You are doing your night routine by the vanity, onto the last part of your skincare when he creeps up behind your back, his arms finding their ways around your waist. His head rests on your left shoulders, lips attracted to your neck like how bees are to honey.

“God, I missed you so much,” his voice comes out much whinier than he thought. You put down your moisturiser on the table, turning around to face him. The wet hair that is evident from the earlier shower he had made his bangs droop down adorably, and sexy at the same time.

“Show me how bad then,” you say teasingly, the provocative smirk you give Soobin is enough to set him off as he lifts you from the ground, the placement of his hands on you careful to not hurt you in any way. Your giggles fill the entire room as he places you on the soft, silky sheets that you just changed this morning.

He leans in, his mouth hovering over yours as he mutters his words of love to you before your lips connect together. The ghostly touch of his hands on your shoulder first, slowly going down to your breasts making you gasp. You continue making out for a while before he lets go and cups your cheeks, giving a peck on your forehead. The intimate action gives you butterflies, watching him closely as he works around to undress himself. The eye contact is maintained, and it’s insanely hot you can’t help but blush seeing him.

“Like what you see babe?” he asks, completely aware of your flustered face. You reach out a hand to trace his toned muscle, his abs appearing even more prominent than the last time you saw them.

“Very. Looks so hot on you, oh my god—” your breath cuts short as he accidentally tugs the only thing left on your body, your bra to be exact, harder than he intends to as the fabric tears.

“Oh! Sorry baby, did I hurt you?”

Yes, he did. In fact, he ruined you. In the most sexy way possible. You stare at him closely, lips puckered as he tries to read your expression. When you say nothing, that’s when he inches closer, promising to buy you another, even ten sets of underwear if you would want him to. You chuckle lightly, both hands supporting his neck and pulling him closer.

“Soobin, I could care less about that. I like it,” you confess, his eyes soften. Without waiting for his reply, you flip him over. His length is already poking through, Soobin hisses when you touch him there, the feeling shoots him in like electricity when your soft hands contrast with the veiny muscle there.

“This hard for me?” you start with a kitten lick, his hand is flying to hold your hair in place for you, wrapping it nicely around his wrist like a ponytail. Always very attentive and gentle.

“Only for you, love,” he answers, lids drowsy as you start to take him down your throat. You’re long past caring about the drool that drips from your stretched lips to your sheets, Soobin coos at your state and mumbles a few praises as your mind overwhelms with the way his tip presses the back of your throat, the weight of one big hand never leaves stroking your hair.

Moments later, he finds you struggling with his length, eyes watery as you look at him, he can’t help but to anxiously remind you to take only what you can. Your hand that is placed on his thighs is gripping harder on it, yet you show no sign of tapping out like what both of you agreed on whenever any of you feels uncomfortable to continue.

“Y/n–” his own breath hitches, the feeling good to him as well, the urge to just push you further down on his cock blooming in his mind but he puts it aside as he looks at his darling, sweet girlfriend on the verge of tears.

“Love, you can stop now,” he incites, feeling bad for you. With all the constraints, you manage to shake your head, insisting that you can take much more. You relax your throat a bit, breathing through your nose as you push him in deeper. Soobin groans at the action, hips jerking and thrusting sloppily. You work your best to satisfy him, until he’s left a whiny mess, as he reaches his first orgasm of the night.

He’s humming softly, lost in his own world of pleasure while you fight to stifle your gag reflex, letting the liquid go down your throat before finally releasing him from your mouth. The drool that follows through as you backs away in search of proper breath is wiped away instantly by him, feeling bad as he strokes your cheek lovingly.

“Don’t push your limit if you can’t, baby, remember?”

You could only let out a smile, pulling him on top of you. “I have never not, Soobin. I promise I am okay,” you answer, his gaze on you feels a little too strong, so you continue, “It’s a good kind of hurt.”

“Really?”

“Uh uh. Now hurry,” you urge him, your puppy eyes paired with your pout instantly puts Soobin in position, in between your legs. He’s pushing your thighs apart, working his fingers delicately on your dripping core. You relax to his touch, responsive moans here and there fill Soobin’s ears. “So fucking wet…”

Soobin rarely swears around you, but whenever he does in bed it drives you nuts. The low voice of his, with a little bit of grunt on it and the fact that you're making him feel that way has you pooling down there.

“Am ready now, come on,” you whine out, almost running out of patience as he slowly works his fingers wonderfully inside your pulsing cunt. Soobin is far from stupid, especially in knowing how your body works, he knows it’s calling for something more. Something that only he can give you. You keep on squirming around, desperate for more friction than what he’s already giving you.

“Please—want you so bad, Binnie,” your voice comes out as weak, a high pitched moan follows after when he retracts his fingers.

“Shh, I know babe, just getting you prepared for me, don’t wanna hurt you, hmm?” he coos, spreading your legs further just so he can snug up in between comfortably. His length makes its way to your entrance, your joined moans breaking out as he gathers the slick to coat around it. The pleasure gives you goosebumps, finding anchor in his hand that holds on your thigh.

He finally pushes in his tip, his cock finally stretches you out. The sensation triggers him, watching closely how your walls are pulsing to let him in. Even though he was being gentle, nothing would help when you will never get used to his size. You could not even get a hold of it when a tear drop stains your cheek, his girth inside too overwhelming. His growing concern from earlier only expands, his thumb finger delicately brushes it off from you, pecking your lips after. “Baby…”

“No, I—ah,” you are cut off from one of his thrust, unknowingly hitting your sensitive spots, filling you to the hilt. “Feels so good, Soobin..”

As he sees you struggle and non stop squirming under him, he could not help but to feel bad, slowing his pace and rubbing the skin of your waist to ease you up to accept him. Your expression confused, quite dismayed at the slowing pace. He takes his time with you, stroking your messy hair, pecking every surface of your neckline yet you grow greedy and needier by time. With a desperate huff, you call out his name, he whispers a soft hum in your ear to ensure he’s listening.

“You don’t have to be that gentle with me, Soobin. I am not made of glass,” you say, eyes glistening with lust as Soobin cups both your cheeks

“Did I do something wrong? Do you not like how I act in bed?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you reassure quickly, scooting him closer. You reach out and take his hand, your thumb brushing over his knuckles. “You’re so gentle with me, Soobin. And I love that about you. You always make me feel safe. But...”

He tilted his head, lips pouting in focus, studying your expression. “But what?”

Your cheeks are warming, feeling intimidated by his stare. “Sometimes... I think you’re holding back. Like you’re scared of pushing too hard, saying too much, or being too... intense with me.”

Soobin blinks once, twice, his mouth parting slightly as if to respond, but no words come out. You almost melt at the sight, his perfectly shaped lips look very fluffy and inviting so you pull him down to you, giving a small kiss on his lips.

You massages his palm, your voice soft but resolute. “I want all of you, baby. The gentle side, the intense side, even the messy parts you think I am not capable of handling. I can take it. I want to take it.”

Soobin looks down at your intertwined hands, his thumb now tracing over the smaller yours. “I guess... I'm afraid of hurting you. You mean so much to me, baby. I didn’t want to risk being too much, I don’t ever wanna cause you pain.”

“You won’t,” you deny firmly, voice stern. “I trust you. And I want you to trust me to take whatever you’ve got. Don’t hold back on me anymore.”

For a moment, you both stay in silence, the weight of his body on top of yours never feels uncomfortable, or too much.

"Do you trust me?"

"Babes, if I didn't I wouldn't be here. I would run away once I set my eyes on your big cock," you jokingly say to ease the tension, his dimple appearing as he chuckles.

“Alright. No more holding back, I guess. You asked for it.” He sinks his face further in your chest, leaving a few marks of him there. Your heart flutters, a spark of excitement dancing in your chest. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

The rest is history, you can't quite describe the feeling of being ravished by him for the first time. It is amazing. You are too fucked out, too weak to do anything besides moan and writhe underneath him, letting him use you as he wishes, limits all thrown out of the window as he rams inside you aggressively. You are more like a living fuck doll to be filled with him and his seed only.

“You like that, baby? Y/n?” He repeats his hard thrust over and over, distant noise ringing in your ears, his large and veined hands gripping your hips and leaving bruises on the soft flesh. Your body has been decorated with hickeys and bite marks, your wrists bruising from when he held them earlier.

Soobin then reaches around with one hand, rubbing circles on your swollen and overstimulated clit, tears rolling down your cheeks at the added sensation. He only grins at that, loving your response to his touches as two of his fingers rub circles on your sensitive bud. “Gonna cum for me? Come on, show me how good of a girl you are.”

“Yes! So good— argh!” you scream out as you reach your high, your cunt tightening around his cock as he pauses his thrust, waiting for you to loosen up a little before continuing. You lay weak in his arms, sweat trickles down your neckline at the heat. As you catch your breath and the overstimulation passes, your trembling hands come up to his hair, tugging on it a bit.

“More, baby.”

He laughs at that, iris darkening as he looks at your state. Eager for more, although it seems like you are on the verge of tears by now.

“Aren't you an impatient little one?”

“Want you to use me,” you demand assertively, eyes wide and round. Your lips pursed a little, Soobin leans down to steal a quick peck there.

“My baby wants more? You can take it?”

“Yes, of course, I love you—oh fuck!” your voice gets louder as his fingers hovers around your bud, he’s pressing some friction on it so your hands that are on his hair grasp it harder. He chuckles at your desperate action, your legs trying to escape from the euphoric pleasure so bad he has to hold onto it. “Soobin! Oh my–god!”

Your legs start quivering so much, the build-up is insane, three of his fingers start moving inside your cunt uncontrollably, hitting all the right spots. You squeal as his skilled fingers continue making a mess of you, the sheets wet with your cream as you feel your high approaching quickly. Soobin watches you closely in amusement, your thrown back head, eyes rolled to the back, mouth open. You never look so beautiful, gorgeous, very stunning, he could not take his eyes off you.

“Love you too, y/n. So much, baby. Come for me, hmm? I got you,” his soft voice accompanies your loud whines. Beyond his expectation, he’s getting more than what he wanted. As the pleasure increases, you could not hold it in so you suddenly squirt all over him. Your surprising outcome that shocks even you makes you squeal, as you hold onto his shoulder for support. You have never even squirted before.

“Oh fuck, fuck, baby,” Soobin groans, collecting the liquid to smear it all over your aching pussy. “You just did that, for me?”

You are given not much time to recollect your thoughts when you are suddenly being wrapped around his arms, he’s setting you into another position. The touch on your hips are far from gentle as you are manhandled on all fours before him. Before you can complain, his tip is already inside, soon you are swallowing his whole length. Your eyes widen at the change of angle, much more intense than before.

“That was so hot, babe, damn, you want me to ruin you that bad? You like it when I’m fucking you rough?” he’s whispering in your ears, hand coming down to land a smack on your pretty flesh bare on his hips.

“Mmngh, oh! Sen—sensitive, oh please,” your weak hands wobbly in finding support on the sheets, grabbing whatever you can to stay arched for him.

He stays silent at your plea, ignoring it as the slapping skin of his against your increases in sound, his thrust fast and precise for his own release. Your drenched pussy makes nasty noises as his cock rams inside, sounding like music to his ears. "You can take it, come on, be a big girl," leaves his lips wheneve your legs almost give up, his big hands hold you up, not letting you go anywhere further than now.

“Look so cute, you want to be filled, sweetie?” he’s dirty talking now, your mind already going anywhere you find yourself nodding desperately. His cock twitches inside, forcing you to take the whole of him, his tip dangerously poking to your cervix by now. And god, does it feel so good.

“Yes, come in me please,” the honeyed voice of yours could never make him deny you, you are his baby after all, his length buried so deep inside you before his hips shake. The thrust is now shaky and unstable as his cum spills, warming your inside. “Argh, fucking take it!” Soobin grunts.

Immediately after he’s done, he’s pulling himself out, letting the combined release of yours leak. Carefully, he takes your waist, helping you to lay on your back, head pillowed by the softness of your plushie on the bed. You moan at the sight around your legs, his lips pressing kisses around your thighs, anywhere near your pussy but there to not let the oversensitivity overcome you. Your eyes then follow his movement, kneeling to scoot closer to you as he removes the hair strand from your face.

“Satisfied?”

“Never have been so before. Thank you, I love you,” you confess. His hands are now finding home on your back, wrapping you in a warm embrace.

“Love you more, baby. Did it hurt?” he’s asking, eyes wandering around your expression for honesty, afraid he has taken it too far. Your head shakes as you smile, convincing him that all is good. He lets out a sigh of relief, your night spent together while he takes care of you like always.

[nebulousmoon3990]

GHOSTS OF THE PAST (Batfam x neglected hero reader)

III𓂃› SPIDER

Warning: violence, swearing, sensitive topics, bad things, spelling mistakes (English is not my first language) and the reader has black hair and blue eyes (sorry), female reader!, I accept criticism, but please don't be rude, everything is fictional!

Hey guys! I'm really sorry it took me so long to post (I was sorting out some things in my life). well, enjoy the chapter!♡

Clark really didn't know what he was getting himself into.

He had expected to come to New York to do a simple interview for the Daily Planet, write the report and spreadsheet right here while eating at a café and if possible bring back some souvenirs for Lois and Jon.

Fighting a supervillain was definitely not in his plans.

It had happened out of nowhere, while he was waiting for the meeting with the businessman, the urgent news on television warning about a monster attacking the city made him leave urgently. He could solve this and finish it in time.

He just didn't know that he wouldn't need to solve it.

While flying, now as Superman, he easily found the villain, it wasn't very difficult to see him in fact. He was the size of a building of at least nine or ten stories, his skin was rocky and hard, made purely of stone. Clark was about to attack the giant when he heard a scream.

Looking through the villain a helicopter was in the way, the pilot tried to maneuver away but they would be enveloped in the confusion. Using his speed, Clark tried to get closer to the helicopter, however it was not enough since it was still far away.

The rocky hand would catch the vehicle before him.

Well, he is not alone.

Before the walking rock caught the propeller and possibly destroyed the vehicle something got attached to the hand and pulled it up, bringing the villain's focus to another place, his distraction was enough for him to catch the helicopter. He noticed as he moved away that what had stopped the giant was... a web? He followed with his gaze the path of the white rope and saw a figure pass quickly on it.

What?

Leaving the helicopter on top of a landing area of ​​a nearby building, he approached the frightened journalists. "Are you hurt?"

The one who answered was the cameraman, who was still breathing heavily, "N-no, Mr. Superman. We're fine-"

"IT'S HER! TYLER FILM, FILM!" The woman's excitement made the man quickly grab his camera. She looked at him and gave a shy smile while holding the microphone, perhaps a little embarrassed by her euphoria. "Oh, Superman, thank you very much. It's just that we never get clear images of her, so you can understand our excitement."

She? She who?

No one needed to answer his question because when he looked at the monster he saw the "she".

A super heroine

Her figure swayed between the giant and the buildings. She wore a suit that covered her entire body, leaving no room to see any of her features. All Clark could see was that she was short, perhaps indicating that she was a teenager.

The monster tried to grab her with its free hand, moving much faster than it had when it was with the helicopter. She, however, brought her webbed wrist towards the giant's face, causing him punched his own face. Swinging away from him, she taunted, her voice echoing off the buildings. "Hey big guy, is that all you know how to do? For someone so tough, you're softer than jelly!"

Hit a nerve, for sure.

"Who is she?" He asked the man who was filming the action with the reporter, even in a situation like that the cameraman looked at the heroine with a glint in his eye, a glint that intrigued Clark.

"Her? She's Spider-Woman."

Spider Woman, he had never heard of this superheroine, but that didn't matter now.The "Spider Woman" swung again on her webs at the stone man's aggression towards her. Superman moved away from the reporters and headed towards the brute. He was quick to bump his fist with the giant's, preventing him from punching a building. The action made the heroine finally notice the Kryptonian. She widened the white eyes of the mask when she saw him flying. "Superman?"

She hung from a building, climbing the glass to get closer to him, she looked at the monster and then at him, her head spinning until she realized something, knowing that he would help her she addressed him. "Hey, Superman. Can you immobilize him for me for at least a few seconds?"

The Kryptonian looked at her, hesitating a little, but then a smile appeared on his lips "Leave it to me."

They moved together at that moment. Clark used his freezing breath on the stone legs, freezing them and immobilizing him to the ground. With the giant still, the spider woman climbed on his back and reached his neck. While the monster struggled, he saw her take a syringe and apply it to the rocky neck. With the liquid entering the monster's veins, he began to scream. Clark was about to intervene when the thunderous scream stopped.

Slowly, pieces of stone fell from the giant, and when they found their end on the ground, they turned into sand, being carried away by the wind. Little by little, the monster began to disintegrate until there was nothing left of him, just a cloud of dust in the place. Approaching to see the damage, he went down and came across the individuals.

The villain, once gigantic and grotesque, was now a thin and small man, passed out in the heroine's arms, while his breathing stabilized, Clark for the first time observed Spider-Woman up close, without being in the heat of battle.

The costume she wore was outlined in black and golden, the fabric was a mix of a dull color and another bright color, the symbol of a spider displayed proudly on her chest, the hood covered the mask on her face, making it difficult to see the white eyes of the mask. What intrigued him most was that it was not common fabric, since when he tried to use his x-ray vision he could not see Spider-Woman's identity.

She certainly knew how to hide her identity.

Just like someone he knew.

"Looking at he now, he doesn't look like a villain."

"And he isn't, they forced him, he's just an ordinary citizen." The dust slowly cleared, now revealing the street they were on. "Honestly, it's a surprise to see you here, shouldn't you be in Metropolis?"

Clark started to sweat a little. True, he should be in Metropolis, not New York, but he couldn't just watch everything on TV, there was a villain attacking the city! And he didn't know New York had a heroine to protect them! How careless of him. "Yeah, actually, I was..."

"was?"

"I-I flew past here! That's it." Spider-woman looked at him before starting to laugh, well at least he tried to hide it, in fact the excuse had been pretty bad.

"Okay, I'll take this as truth, you must have your reasons, don't you, Mr. Clark?"

The aforementioned froze, looking at the spider, who stood up carrying the injured man. The sounds of sirens were heard in the distance, indicating that the police were coming. "What?"

This time, it was the spider woman who froze, realizing her carelessness too late. She looked at him, and even with the mask on her face, he could have sworn a bead of sweat was on his forehead. "Ah, I and my big mouth."

"Do you know my identity? How did you-"

"L-look, I swear it wasn't intentional, seriously! I have... my reasons to know, but I promise! I didn't tell anyone and I won't tell anyone." Superman just looked at her in astonishment, it wasn't intentional? How did she find out then? While the police and ambulance finally arrived, the woman was quick to hand the man over to the police and briefly explained everything, she distanced herself from the police, ready to leave as quickly as possible when he approached her.

"Who are you? Like, really?" She looked at him, clearly anxious to get out of there. "That's... a secret, but like I said, I won't tell anyone, don't worry."

She pulled away from him again, releasing a web from her wrist, already trapping her in a building to resume her run. But before that, she turned to Clark, the tone of her words showing no lies, only truths. "After all..."

"If I wanted to do this, I would have done it nine months ago."

And with that she was gone.

Again, Clark didn't know what he was doing.

It had been a few days since his encounter with Spider-Woman, the revelation that she knew his identity disturbed him, but that wasn't what was going through Clark's head now.

That was who she was.

That woman (or teenager?, Clark doesn't know) had been saving New York for at least a year and absolutely no one in the league knew, she was literally under their noses the whole time and no one knew! But while they didn't know anything, but New York knew, you weren't liked by everyone but most definitely liked you, you gave those people security every day and they trusted you.

You were a real mystery.

In addition, there was the identity issue. Clark wasn't rich, so he didn't have spectacular security to hide his identity, but he always took precautions. You, however, found out so easily. Clark knew that your "it wasn't intentional" statement might be wrong, but whether it was intentional or not, you still did it.

Clark knew that you wouldn't reveal your identity to the world. Your statement made that very clear, but even so, his head itched and itched to meet you.

Maybe he was being hasty, but you were a great heroine, there was no denying that. You fought well, you were smart, and you had experience. You could be a good ally. Besides, Clark doesn't know if you're an adult, so it would be a good way to keep you under supervision.

That's why he's heading back to New York now.

The sun had already set, giving him a view of the beautiful night that had fallen while he was flying, but at that moment Clark was trying to find you.

He didn't know where you could be, in fact he didn't know what to do when he found you, he didn't even know what sparked his interest, he simply... felt. Something about how you were, the mystery surrounding you intrigued him, and Clark simply followed that instinct.

His thoughts were interrupted when his super hearing picked up a sound, of what sounded like running, it could have been anything but his instincts told him to follow the sound, to find the source.

He did.

And thank goodness he did, because he found you.

You were jumping over the buildings, like he had seen you do before, and it was only when you stopped that he could approach you. You were on the edge of the building, looking down at the floors. Clark intended to approach you, but it seemed like you had other plans.

"I thought you had already left." Your voice was neutral, showing no irritation or pleading, it was as white as a sheet, which made him stop, a little surprised that you had discovered him. "I did."

You turned to him, the eyes of the mask you were wearing showing him your confusion, looking him up and down, your reasoning led you to realize why he was here. "You- wait, are you following me?!"

"Following is a very strong word-"

"But you just admitted that you went to the metropolis and came to New York again!" Your arms gestured so quickly thanks to your nervousness that when you realized it you put one of them on your waist and the other you ran your hand over your face.

Clark couldn't help but find this cute.

"Look if this is because of the identity-"

"More or less, but that's not all." Clark's mouth turned into a gentle smile, your brain thinking about the possibilities again, all while you looked at him.

Silence reigned between the two, neither of them wanting to comment before the other, but it seems that Spider-Woman didn't have much time because a sound came from her gauntlet, she quickly accessed it and Clark saw that the "bracelet" was a type of miniature screen attached to the fabric of the suit, you looked at the messages before turning to Clark.

"I'm sorry but I have to go." You looked at the city below, looking at the lights that illuminated the place. Clark was about to speak when you cut him off before. "No offense Superman, but I think it's better if you go back to Metropolis, I don't have time to talk."

You spread your arms wide as you leaned towards the edge of the building, your eyes narrowed affectionately, which contradicted your voice full of irony. "Then this is our last meeting, thank you~"

And then you threw yourself.

Clark flew to the edge, ready to catch up with you, only to be faced with the emptiness of the city, you disappeared before their eyes, like a ghost.

"Then this is our last meeting."

No, it wouldn't be.

And it wasn't.

For the past four months, Clark has been bothering you, appearing out of nowhere, scaring you, helping you, making you more irritated by his constant appearances, making you more dynamic, more ironic, but happy.

It was a confusion of emotions, to tell the truth.

You expected that after a while he would stop doing this, after all he had things to take care of, for example: a city called Metropolis.

But Clark apparently didn't agree with that, because at least once every two weeks he would go to New York just to talk. The weirdest thing is that he started talking about his life to you as if he had known you for years! He talked about how he loved Lois, his relationship with John and Conner, GOD! He even talked about the Daily Planet!

Dude, he didn't even know who you were and he was just talking about his life to you?

You, however, always listened to him, you didn't tell him anything about your life but you didn't stop listening to him either.

Honestly, if you wanted to, you could very well mess with his life.

Good thing you're the heroine here.

As you jumped between buildings, your danger sensor beeped, warning you of something approaching. Knowing who it could be, you went down to the terrace of a building. Your suspicions were confirmed when you felt a gust of air from above. Turning around, you came face to face with the hero who had been on your tail for the last few months: Superman.

Clark had a gentle smile on his face, the smile of a hero, something that conveyed confidence and comfort. And it really did.

"Hello, Mr. Super, you look as happy as ever."

"Yeah, you look as relaxed as ever." He landed in front of you as you leaned against the building's railing, your elbows keeping your body steady as you assumed a carefree posture. Clark glanced at the buildings behind you nervously, uneasy about something. "I hope you don't mind, but we have company today."

You arched an eyebrow in doubt as your danger sensor went off like crazy, you had a few seconds before you turned around and launched a web at the person. You expected to find a criminal or even a super villain, but you were faced with the sunglasses of a teenager in a costume similar to Superman. "Yeah, she's really fast like you said."

What?

Before you could react, a much smaller figure appeared in front of you, just like the teenager (the difference was that he was a child and didn't wear glasses) he also looked a lot like Clark, he floated in front of you, bright and excited eyes directed at you. "Wow! You're so much cooler in person!"

A drop appeared on your head, turning to the man of steel you muttered to him. "Who are-"

"John and Conner." He chuckled softly, seeing your eyes narrow in irritation. "John really wanted to meet you and Conner ended up joining too."

"Oh." You pulled away from John a little as sarcasm flooded your lips. "That's great!"

Conner chuckled softly as you released him from your web, he approached you as he bent down a little to speak to you, since he was taller. "I thought you'd be happy to see us, it's not every day three Kryptonians come to New York to help with crimes." His voice held an undeniable teasing, the low and deep tone of his voice having the words dragged in his speech, it seemed almost sensual.

You stopped as you watched the other two, John and Clark froze, their gazes fixed on Conner, who you had confirmed was trying to subtly court you.

But you're not the shy girl here.

You approached him, close enough to be face to face, your breath could be felt on his mask. Conner, surprised by your bold move, leaned back, his cheeks flushed with your approach. "Well, New York is already protected by its heroine every day, so I don't need help." The smile on your face grew when Conner turned redder at the sound of your voice.

You quickly moved away from him and hung on the ledge, you turned to him, your figure shining with the lights in the city. "Then watch me do my job, mini super."

You fell from the building, the wind shaking your hood as you fell. Before hitting the ground, you threw a web up and climbed up again, hanging on one at a time. As your figure moved away, Conner and John looked at you. "Damn."

"You better come, or we'll end up losing her."

The night would be very long.

"OH GOSH, I'm so tired!" You yawned as you hung on the webs, it was almost four in the morning and you decided to go home. The supers had already left, you believe they were tired too (Especially Conner, where you and he played flirting all night).

You stopped on the terrace while looking around, seeing if someone or something had followed you, seeing no threat you hung on your web and slowly fell to your apartment, you opened the balcony door and as soon as you entered you were greeted by a satisfied meow.

Looking at the sofa in the living room, you saw Mooly lying on the cushion, the little black kitten moving and going to your ankle, cunning for affection. You laughed softly and picked her up gently, while placing her in your arms. "Hey, haven't you gone to sleep yet?"

As you petted the little one, footsteps were heard throughout the house, when you looked up you came across a large white vinyl robot, its form being embraced by its shadows, its round eyes shining in the dark space.

You looked at it and it did the same, the atmosphere apparently cold and tense to those looking from the outside, but completely the opposite for those who live in this house. The robot bowed respectfully, its voice, calm and tobotic, showed deep down a contained joy, reserved only for those close to it.

"It's so good to see you home." He stood up from his position, round eyes blinking slightly in the darkness of the apartment.

"Master (Name)."

You smiled as you set Mooly down on the couch again, you raised your hand to his neck and squeezed it, causing his mask to retract, revealing his identity. His face, the face of someone forgotten is a frequent presence on the walls here.

(Name) Wayne, the Spider-Woman, the missing daughter, the useless Wayne. His face was older than before, aged like red wine, clearly showing that you took after your father, since your face was just like his. Beautiful and exquisite, cold and deadly.

"It's good to be home Mark, where's Alex?" You asked as you squeezed your shoulder, which was a bit sore from today's patrol.

"Mrs. Alex is already asleep, she said she couldn't stand listening to you flirting with Superboy anymore."This made you laugh out loud, you could imagine Alex covering his ears so he wouldn't hear the two of you. You pressed the bracelet on your wrist and in a flash your suit retracted into the bracelet, showing your figure that had a loose blouse and pants. You stretched, heading towards the bathroom.

"Well, I guess I better go too, tomorrow I have a college project and Mrs. Vivian wants me early at the coffee shop" before you could get there Mark called you, his voice echoing through the house. "You got a message from Master Billy."

You stopped and looked at Mark, the notification displayed on his cute belly from an ologram. "Did he send it at this time?" The robot shook his head and handed the phone to you.

Opening your messages you went straight to Billy's contact, concern starting to creep in on you, but then again, you should know how Billy is.

Because when you saw the message you felt your stomach churn.

Billy Batson was eating the most beautiful and delicious candy you had ever seen in your entire life, and he sent it to you even though he knew about your addiction to sweets.

That little shit-

You quickly typed furiously on the cell phone keyboard, not caring that it was late, just wanting to curse Batson for making you feel hungry when you planned on not having dinner.

'Fuck, I hate you Batson ಥ_ಥ'

His answer didn't take more than a few seconds to come, his response irritating you even more.

'HEY, you finally answered me, I was already worried. Besides, I know you love me 𖹭𖹭𖹭(∪ ◡ ∪)'

'I promise I'll buy one for you, good night little spider ツ'

'...good night Billy.'

You wanted to cry, that's it.

Especially because you were hungry now.

Knowing your fate, you threw the cellphone on the couch and turned on the kitchen light, you heard Mooly and Mark's footsteps following you.

"I think there are still ingredients for a mug cake, right?" eating now wouldn't hurt.

"Bruce? BRUCE!" The aforementioned looked at the entrance of the batcave where Tim and Jason had rushed in. The two looked like they had seen a ghost, sweaty and pale, still in their suits. "Tim, what is it?"

"You- You need to see this!" He sighed heavily as he threw himself into the chair at the control panel, his fingers typing faster than he had seen them on missions. Bruce looked at Jason, who was standing next to him, who had a burning look on his face, hope hidden behind his eyes.

What's going on?

Bruce didn't need to ask, because Tim began to explain to him. "Since the accident with... (Name), I've never found any clues..." Bruce shuddered at the sound of your name, they didn't talk about that subject.

Even after three years it still hurt.

"But that was because I wasn't looking in the right place!" The teenager put up the pictures of the bus that had been carrying you that day, only the wreckage that was left was in the picture. "But now-now I know where to look."

"Last year, Star City had several people kidnapped suddenly, just like (Name) no one found any clues about the case, but Jason and Roy investigated thoroughly and managed to find a kind of underground dungeon where the kidnapped people would be."

Now on the computer was the picture of the bus and of a kind of what Bruce would call a mental hospital. The place was so rotten and filthy that Bruce wondered if anyone lived there. "Apparently there's nothing, but if you look behind each of the huge graffiti on the wall..."

Tim, using the program, removed the graffiti, which gave Bruce a view of the white walls, but in the middle of them, pieces of something nonsensical resided there. "... and put them together."

The movement in Tim's hands moved the images on the wall, distorting and shaping them until one completed the other, making the nonsensical make sense.

"A symbol."

The symbol of a womb wrapped around a two-headed serpent.

"Do you know where else this symbol is?" Tim again returned to the image of the bus wreckage, he shaped the image and put together pieces of the walls that resulted in the same symbol, but with small parts missing. "So you mean-"

"That the same people who kidnapped the people in Star City were the ones who kidnapped (Name)." Jason answered for the two, his tone as dejected as Bruce's.

He can't blame him, he's in a similar state.

"The problem is that I can't find out what it means, I've tried on the Internet, in history books, even on Wikipedia! But I haven't found anything."

The crushing silence suffocated those present, leaving invisible marks on their being. "It has to have a meaning, anything- okay, what does it mean to a womb?!"

"Jason, this is stupid-"

"No, but we have to try! Shit, you only looked in science books or-or whatever, but have you tried to look for anything related to mythology?" Tim thought for a moment, but shook his head negatively.

"The womb refers to the woman, the mother. Now, what does a two-headed snake refer to?" Bruce asked no one in particular, his thoughts searching for the knowledge he had about it.

"Would it be a mother snake? That's nonsense."

Jason thought for a moment and realized something. "Technically, it's not." The red hood searched the control panel while talking to Robin and Batman.

"In Greek mythology, there was a creature that was half snake and half woman." The mythological image appeared next to the symbol. The grotesque figure of the creature somehow referred to the symbol.

"She was known as the mother of monsters."

"Echidna."

HI GUYS, this chapter was a lot of work, I had a lot of blockages but I managed to do it.

Now I have a question to ask: Is Conner treated as Clark's son or brother?

You already know that I haven't read the comics, I've watched Young Justice (at least there it gave the impression that Conner would be treated as Clark's son) but on Wikipedia it says that Conner is treated as John's uncle, please answer me 😭.

I'm also doing a reader drawing (NON-CANONIC), I think I'll do headcanons too. I'll possibly leave a link below.

Ok, let's go to the Tag list \(•◡•)/:

@daiyanomochi - @amber-content - @wizzerreblogs - @foggyv-oid - @kore-of-the-underworld - @theunknowntravel3r - @space1crow - @shortnsweetsposts - @popursocks - @sugasweettea - @salfishers - @itachisank - @jsprien213 - @infirebaby - @yhin-gg -@h-ib

@bunbunboysworld - @h-ib - @sheep-from-rad - @tatsuri-zomushiki - @the-holy-pigeon - @geminis93 - @horror-lover-69 - @mybones537 - @eyeless-kun - @timotheechalametswifeys - @justabreadslice - @nymphzy0 - @1-800-g00ber - @pix-stuff - @jsprien213

sorry for any mistakes.

Bye 𖹭