#criminal minds type of boyfriend

[writingouthere]

exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk #sukuna

[kisses4reid]

red tissues | ·˚ ༘ aaron hotchner ,,

summary - you get nose bleeds regularly, the alarming increase in their appearances gets aaron’s attention, especially when you wake up one day to blood covering your entire face for aaron to see.

genre - hotch x fem!reader, fluff

warnings - lots of mentions of blood, nose bleeds, mentions of being over worked, sickness

a/n - i’m going to open a permanent taglist for anyone who wants to be tagged in every criminal minds fanfiction i write, so either comment on this or make a request that you’re interested! ❤️

The office was buzzing with the sound of typing and chatting, pens being passed and chairs being adjusted. The night was surely coming, sun setting against the window panes to cast shadows onto piles of files. Your desk was dark and your pile was unfortunately much taller than everyone else’s. Funny how shooting a criminal earns punishment through 10 more files to fill out. 

But right now, all you cared about was filling your Snoopy mug with something. The coffee machine was broken by a certain muscly man, so some tea bags delivered that day were your only solace. Chamomile. Sounded tranquil enough. 

As you waited for your beverage to brew, you glanced back to your desk and then to your teammates. You should’ve taken Spencer and Emily’s offers to take some files off you, but being a perfectionist and selfless, you kindly declined. Shoulder’s slumping, you pulled the mug close to your nose and took a long smell, closing your eyes in relief. 

Suddenly, right before you could take the much needed first sip, a pang hit your head and your eyes and eyebrows ached, causing you to clench them. When you opened your eyes, the light brownish-yellow of the tea was mixing with red.

Blood. Shit. 

You swiftly turn to grab some tissues as your boss, Aaron Hotchner, was grabbing his plain mug from the top shelf, you hadn’t even noticed him in your panic. He followed you with his eyes as he grabbed a green tea packet. The tissues held against your nose were turning red and soggy. And before he could ask what had happened, you had abandoned your mug and vanished from the room, heading for the bathrooms. 

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows and noticed the discolouration in your mug, before grabbing it and washing it out for you. 

A few days later, Morgan and Reid were sat in front of you, JJ leaning on your seat’s armrest as Aaron conversed with a lawyer over the phone. Prentiss covered the basic details of the case but all you could focus on was the slight pang in your heart when you heard Aaron chuckle at whoever was talking with him. Though your eyes didn’t leave the case files, your ears were suddenly attached to your boss’ voice. 

Which was much closer, after he sat down next to you. 

You felt stupid, being happier now that his attention wasn’t on some other woman, even though his attention still wasn’t on you. He sighed as he sat, a whiff of his strong cologne circling the group as they updated him on other details they had caught. You mentally scolded yourself for acting like a 14 year old girl crushing on her teacher, but alas, you would continue.

“We noticed all of the victims went to private religious schools, most of them went to church as well. Y/n pointed out how in all of their photos, they were dressed in a conservative way - which is a contrast when we look at their ages.” Spencer started before Rossi added,

“They’re all teenagers, nearly turning 20. They all had boyfriends, and we found that one of them was already engaged.” 

You listened carefully, looking at the faces of the victims that were spread on the table, “As well as the common religious commitments, they all had one other thing in common.” You squinted your eyes with a short breath, feeling a headache approaching before you pointed something out that nobody else had noticed, “Same initials, all of them.” 

Hotch nodded, “Amy Sanders, Alice Soo, Adriana Santiago and Alexa Smith. Nice work, Y/n.” 

But before you could reject the complement and internally squeal, a throb attacked your head, and your eyes scrunched to create wrinkles you would try to massage away that night, before you threw your hand under your chin to swiftly catch a drop of blood. It was like a 6th sense these days.

“Excuse me.” You croak, leaving the back of the plane with Prentiss close behind you. You bent your head back before the raven haired woman’s hand pushed it forward. “Don’t do that, the blood might go down your throat.” 

You followed her instructions and raised any eyebrow, pinching the bridge of your nose. “My niece used to have a lot of nose bleeds whenever she had a cold.” She promptly explained as she bent to pull out tissues from the white bathroom cabinets. 

Around 5 minutes later, you and Prentiss returned to your respective seats, no one but you noticing a strong stare following you. “Are you okay, L/n?” Spencer asks, squinting in curiosity. “Yeah, sorry, sensitive nose, that’s all,” you lied.

These weren’t the first times you’ve had nose bleeds at work or around the team. There was one on your third day of work, the second time you went to a bar with Garcia, and one time on the plane around 4 months ago. You had been lucky that all your other nosebleeds happened either on the way to work or in the comfort of your own apartment. These days, when each case was followed by a heavier one, and each road trip was followed by a 10 hour flight, you were starting to get exhausted. You’re body has decided nose bleeds was the indication for you to take a fucking break.

The next week, you had almost forgotten about your unfortunate trait until a certain tall man called you into his office. “I need those finger print files done by tonight, is that alright?” He asked, smooth voice cutting through your fatigue, leaning on the front of his desk only a metre away from you.

You glanced at him up and down. He was clad in a smoke grey suit, perfectly fitted to his muscles and wide shoulders, tie loose enough to show the amount of work he had been through that morning. He smelt amazing, like wood and petichor, like metal and… “Yeah of course, sorry. I put the victims confirmed profiles on Spencer’s desk to check over before I could finalise the um…” Shit. Why did this have to happen right now?

But before you could even excuse yourself or hold a hand to your nose, a soft hand was cupped under your chin, careful not to touch you but close enough to catch droplets. Heat was radiating from the near contact, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the eye contact you were putting yourself through, or the blood that was currently pooling down your chin and into his palm. Aaron had appeared so swiftly, you wondered how he knew. “We should really get you checked out.” He said, recalling back to your third day on the job. 

“You can check- You’re right I should get… your hand is getting blood on it.” He broke your eye contact and glanced down at his palm, before taking a breath and nodding. “Right, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

His other, clean, hand is hovering over your lower back, and everyone’s eyes are hovering over the two of you, following you into the closest bathroom available. You can feel your cheeks heat up. As you pass the kitchenette, he picks up the box of tissues and you try to grab some from his hand, but instead of allowing you, he takes your wrists and holds one to your nose himself. His grip is soft, but restricting, warm. And you can’t help but look at him as he searches for an empty bathroom.

In the bathroom, he guides you to lean over the sink, washing his hands in a sink beside yours while watching you carefully. You look at him through the mirror, and you’re so distracted you almost don’t hear him tell you, “Lean forward more, don’t pinch your nose too hard.” 

You comply and he crosses his arms and leans adjacent to you. “Do you know what’s causing all these nose bleeds?” 

You thought back to shorter than 5 minutes ago and bit your lip, feeling your cheeks heat up once again. “Um, I think it was your cologne.” You glance over to him finding he was already looking into your eyes. You were embarrassed, he was your boss and you were basically insulting him. “You smell great, don’t get me wrong. My nose and I obviously have different… opinions.” 

Aaron nods with a small smirk, compelling you to look away before you say anything more. 

Thankfully, saving you from any more embarrassment, your nose stopped painting the porcelain sink reddish-orange. “Thank you for helping me, Hotch.”

Aaron returned to his computer and opened a tab, searching ‘Common causes for frequent nose bleeds’, and, ‘Ways to avoid nose bleeds’.

And the next morning, Aaron walked into the office to get his coffee (the machine had been promptly fixed after your nose bleed situation) before Morgan spoke up, “New cologne, Hotch?” 

Hotch nodded, and turned back to his coffee, pocketing some chamomile satchels to dispose of later. The comment reassured Aaron.

He wanted to be someone you could be around without risking anymore red tissues. 

Aaron placed himself next to you on the plane, the team had gone over the case six times already, and the plane flight was long. It’s always been long. You opened your mouth to greet him before he cut you off, “We can provide a doctor for you, if these nose bleeds keep happening.” 

You blink in surprise, “I’m sorry they’re inconvenient but there’s not much I can do about it.” You bit the inside of your lip, unaware that your bleeds had caused anything negative other than a decrease in tissue supplies and unwanted attention (not including Aaron’s).

“I’m not saying it’s an inconvenience to me,” he shakes his head, “They’re an inconvenience to you. I’m worried it’s because you’re overworked.” 

Oh. 

You cleared your throat and avoided eye contact.

He continues, “You get to work the earliest, stay the latest, you’re always the one travelling the furthest when we have to split up.”

A smirk appears on your face as you finally look back up at the stoic man, “Sounds like someone I know.” 

“I make time, Y/n.” 

You wrung your hands in your lap and sighed, “I’ve had this problem since I was a kid, Hotch. My longest record between nose bleeds was three months, that's only because I finally found some medication.” Aaron raised an eyebrow. “They had terrible side effects, it wasn’t worth saving some tissues. I can deal, is what I’m saying.” 

He nods and looks away in thought, that's when you allow yourself to look over his chest and arms, his posture and his… smell?

“You smell different.” “I didn’t want a repeat of yesterday.” 

You couldn’t stop thinking about Aaron Hotchner since what he said on that plane a little over five days ago. He changed his cologne, he offered to find a doctor, he listened to your reasoning. You thought he was being friendly. You wanted him to be a little bit more than that.

The plush seats and convenient seating arrangement that put you next to Aaron didn’t offer any comfort against the dry and hot weather of Nevada. If a place was your enemy, this was it. You had already concealed a small bleed in the drive over, Spencer not giving you a second look when you pretended to sneeze into a tissue. With the increased frequency, she didn’t want any useless worry. You weren’t going to take a break, so you needed to hide any signs of exhaustion as best you could. Even when the sheriff opened every window in the temporary office, JJ continued waving herself with a file, Morgan had already chugged three plastic bottles of water. Even Hotch only had a dark blue dress shirt on and damn did he look hotter than the sun. 

But even with your best techniques and play-pretends (never looking down for too long, staying hydrated, avoiding the hotter places in the precinct), an unfortunate pang hit the front of your head and travelled to your nose. Your eyes shuddered, and you started to look for a tissue, before one appeared at the bottom of your chin before blood even trickled down your top lip. 

It was Aaron holding it there, eyes on the case. 

You looked at him in surprise and awe, before you took the tissue off him and excused yourself, getting a worried look from the old sheriff. 

The tall man had learnt when you were about to get a nosebleed, a sudden stop in motion, scrunched eyebrows and eyes, stopped breathing. And as you left his line of vision, he tried not to worry about the amount of blood you would lose in this weather, and it motivated to close this case even more. 

Everyone around the table glanced at Hotch and then at each other, putting on blank faces when Hotch looked up. 

It wasn’t much better in the hotel rooms you had been given. They had aircon, and free water, but small windows, and broken fridges.

It was a relief to be able to sit on something that wasn’t covered in someone else’s sweat, even if it would be covered soon by your own. You had the coldest shower you think you’ve ever had, put on a larger t-shirt and a small pair of basketball shorts to fight against the heat during the night.

It came a surprise to you when you were blood free the entire afternoon and you counted it as good luck for the flight home, forgetting to place tissues or water on your bedside table. After denying an invitation to poker, you threw yourself onto the bed with crisp white sheets and soft pillow cases, in the direct shot of the air conditioning and only window in the room, and passed out.

There was a frantic knocking on your door, or maybe a pounding in your head. You couldn’t tell, and when you tried to investigate, you felt like your eyelids were sewn shut.

You were able to peak them open and lift yourself weakly, when suddenly a figure appeared in front of you with long blonde hair and soft hands on your shoulders.

“JJ?” Your lips felt tight.

“Jeez, Y/n. How long have you been sick?” Her voice was muffled, but as your vision became clearer so did your hearing. Hotch stopped in your open doorway, already dressed and bags dropped in the hallway, before walking in.

For a second you were going to try and stand to clean your room, realising how late it was. But as soon as you tried to stand, everything went hazy, and you could taste metal on your tongue.

“Y/n, we need to get you cleaned up.” JJ said sweetly, as if you were a child. She took your heavy arms and pulled them to the bathroom, light making your headache into a migraine.

You lifted a hand to the bone between your eyebrows, and when you took it off, it had dried blood on it. As JJ grabbed your body towel from last night and wet a corner of it, you stole a sight of your face. Your mouth and nose was covered in dry blood, some of it had travelled to your left cheek, and between your eyebrows. There was fresher blood on your chin and some even on your next.

You had a delirious thought that you had been stabbed, or you had stabbed someone, but when you looked out into the bedroom and saw Aaron taking the pillow case off of the pillow you were using, you wondered if you caused it to go from white to red overnight.

“What happened?” JJ asked, carefully placing her fingertips on the bottom of your jaw while her other hand dabbed softly at your face. You couldn’t answer, even though you had a fairly good guess. Aaron appeared in the mirror to hand JJ some pain killers, for you.

Swallowing was painful, but as your blonde friend wiped off the last bit of blood from your top lip, you looked worse than your throat felt.

“I’m sorry JJ, I could’ve cleaned myself up.”

“Don’t apologise Y/n. You worried me. You weren’t responding to your texts, not even Hotch’s,” she put the towel down and looked into your eyes with a motherly concern. “I think you need to listen to Hotch when he offers you a doctor again.”

And you nod, because she was right.

JJ left the room with a hug, leaving you with a very cross Aaron Hotchner.

“I’m-“

“You could’ve choked, or suffocated, or passed out- Actually I think you did.” He motioned towards your alarm clock that had been running since 5 a.m. “Y/n…” He looked confused, worried, sad? Your eyes hadn’t 100% cleared yet, a headache slowly throbbing, knees still slightly buckling. You wanted to lay down and be thrown into an ice bath.

“How was I supposed to know this would happen?” You croaked out.

“You’ve got one window open, cold and dry aircon on, and no water bottle on your bedside table. You should’ve asked to sleep in the same room as someone, in the same room as me.”

You looked down to your feet, only noticing now that Aaron had packed all of your things for you.

“I thought you had been…” He raked a hand through his hair and paced before placing his hands on your upper arms, “I’m going to get you to a doctor, and you can’t say no. That’s an order.”

His grip tighten only slightly, before he turned around and left with your luggage, heart beating fast in his chest.

You were back home, thank god. The air was cooler and clearer, and you didn’t feel like you needed to moisturise every two minutes. You stretched your arms above your head, squishing your eyes closed for some relief to the sting from the computer screen. Your chest expanded deeply, and your nose finally cleared. 

And when you opened your eyes, you glanced over to your boss’ office windows to see if he was still working. But he was already out of his door, looking at you. 

Butterflies played tag with each other in your stomach, a blush crossing your face and you both shot your gazes away. 

His shoes were nearly silent against the floor, but when you quickly stood to pack your shoulder bag and take the sweater off the back of your chair, Aaron was there to greet you when you turned around.

“Let me walk you out?” He asked, as if the last words he said to you weren’t full of unprofessional emotions.

You were silent for at least 3 seconds, Aaron getting worried for a second before you stumbled over your words, “Y-Yes plea- Yeah. Sure.” 

He smiled, a genuine smile. 

Side by side, his briefcase touching your shoulder bag, you made your way towards the elevator. Aaron fiddled with his fingers and felt unfamiliarly nervous, heart thumping a little harder than when he walked out of his office. 

“Thank you for everything. Caring, catching my blood. I would ask how you knew, but you are a profiler after all.” You smile softly, and he nods. “I’m glad you noticed.” He presses on the car park level in the elevator, hands coming to discreetly fidget once again. 

And you can’t take the silence, “You still smell good.” 

“You always do.” Aaron looks as surprised that he said that as you do, looking away quickly before looking up and sighing, “Tomorrow is Saturday.” 

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any plans?” 

“I have a movie I want to watch, maybe a recipe I wanna try,” you reply oblivious, shuddering at the sudden change of temperature when you both exit the elevator. Suddenly a thicker layer of fabric was draped over your shoulders, one that smelt like new cologne. You blushed, looking up at him. 

The cold breeze was pushing his hair out of place slightly, making his nose a little redder, his eyes clearer. He looked like the word handsome humanised. 

“I think that you should watch that movie and try that recipe at… my place.” 

You widened your eyes chasing any regret or embarrassment in his eyes, but all you got was nervousness, something you had rarely seen in him before. 

He is so handsome, I can’t believe this is happening, I have to tell Garcia- Can I tell Garcia? He’s my boss after all- I mean this doesn’t mean it had to be a date or anything- 

Some blood dripped onto the jacket draped over his shoulders. 

“You could’ve just said no.” He joked as you pinched your nose, smiling against the small headache. It must’ve been the last bit of blood from that morning. “No, I wanna go, I do- Just, could you get a tissue from my glovebox? I don’t want to get anymore blood on your coat.” You reply, nasally and carefully. 

“We’re definitely getting you to a doctor.” 

“Sounds like a fun first date.” 

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotch oneshot #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotchner fluff #criminal minds fluff

[priniya]

ʚɞ niya’s masterlist

☀️ = fluff ⭐️ = favorite 🌪️ = angst 🐾 = requested

🪄 potterverse

james potter

❝till forever falls apart❞ — james wants to know if the cruel sister of his best friend is as cruel as sirius always says. it takes him a few detention to break the cold façade of y/n black. part one! 🌪️☀️

❝not mad anymore❞ — james holds a silent grudge against his best friends until he apologises to potter’s girlfriend. part two! 🌪️☀️

❝confession❞ — during a quick truth or dare game, james learns his girlfriend’s past and gets jealous. 🌪️☀️

❝sirius shouldn’t know❞ — being in a secret relationship with your brother’s best friend is hard, it gets harder when your boyfriend play-pretend with a girl he was obsessed with, unconciously making you jealous.

❝unspoken things❞ — james becomes head over heels for a girl he thinks sirius is in love with, or has history with at least. when she wants him to make a move, he takes a step back. 🐾

regulus black

❝something bad is bound to happen❞ — regulus’ girlfriend always seemed out of her mind, but attending a death-eathers meeting just to keep him protected is something he never thought would happen. ⭐️

❝better than revenge❞ — after a fight with sirius, regulus is miserable and y/n malfoy takes it into her own hands to make sure her boyfriend’s brother knows his place. ☀️⭐️

theodore nott

❝end up here❞ — when cormac mclaggen puts his hands on you, something snaps inside of theo and some time later you end up in his bathroom. ☀️⭐️

❝small worlds❞ — being an introvert pushed into a crowd of over extraverts isn’t what you imagined doing on a friday night. good thing that theodore nott seems to be the best extrovert you could ever find to be around. ☀️🐾

❝opposites attract❞ — theo nott finds himself enamoured with a weasley, and goddamn it he cannot stop thinking about her, being as whipped as possible. ☀️

❝beautiful boy❞ — theodore gets jealous over your friendship with mattheo. ☀️🐾

❝too many nights❞ — theodore nott spent too many nights, smoking and hanging out with matt’s little sister to not make her his girlfriend. ☀️

🔱 riordanverse

percy jackson

dating percy as a child of aphrodite ☀️

leo valdez

dating leo as a child of aphrodite ☀️

🎬 miscellaneous

xavier thorpe

❝days like these❞ — xavier visits you for christmas ☀️

❝meddle about❞ — all she was supposed to do was to stand in the front row, hyping up her cousin, not get the lead guitarist fall on his knees for her. ☀️⭐️

❝getaway car❞ — y/n is furious when xavier doesn’t pay her any attention, but as soon as something bad happens to him, she can’t hold her grudge anymore. 🌪️

❝old fashioned lover boy❞ — xavier thorpe takes interest in one of the addams twins, when they arrive at nevermore. ☀️

❝romantic lover❞ — when xavier thorpe is falling in love, there’s no turning backs. ☀️

minho (xo kitty)

❝the story of us❞ — minho reuintes with his camp girlfriend, when she comes to kiss, and as they say… first love never dies. ☀️⭐️

spencer reid (criminal minds)

❝actress’ savior❞ — minho reuintes with his camp girlfriend, when she comes to kiss, and as they say… first love never dies. ☀️⭐️

jj maybank (outer banks)

🏐 haikyuu

tsukishima kei

❝tsukishima kei, the tutor❞ — when his girlfriend is in need, tsukishima drops everything to help her pursue her dreams. ☀️⭐️

❝first love❞ — first love is the one you never forgets, they say, and they’re right. there’s no way in this world that you would ever forget how you fell in love with tsukishima kei. part one!☀️

❝jealousy❞ — tsukishima gets jealous when someone hits up on you, and make sure everyone knows that tsukishima kei isn’t the type to share. part two! ⭐️

kenma kozume

❝mystery of love❞ — kenma’s girlfriend accidentally walks up on him when he’s streaming and spends time with him. ☀️

oikawa tōru

❝guitarist❞ — when reader’s band plays an important concert, oikawa tells his girlfriend that there’s no chance he could get back to japan, but the truth is that there’s no thing that could stop tooru from being with his significant other in the day as important as her concert. ☀️🌪️

kageyama tobio

❝sentimental❞ — kageyama’s girlfriend surprises him and the team with freshly baked cinnamon rolls and strawberries. ☀️

#haikyuu #harry potter #marauders #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #james potter x reader #regulus black x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #leo valdez x reader #marauders x reader #tsukishima x reader #kenma x reader #oikawa x reader #kageyama x reader #haikyuu x reader #min ho x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #masterlist

[heresan]

Boyfriend Wriothesley, who swears he isn't the jealous type, but when you volunteer at the Meropide Fortress clinic to administer flu vaccinations alongside Sigewinne to the inmates, he can't help but stick his nose where it doesn't belong. It's not his fault when you suddenly become so popular and he hears about how there's a queue of exiled criminals and even guards lined up making comments about you and how attractive you are.

However, only few people know about the true nature of your relationship with the Duke, and just before Wriothesley rounds the corner and enter the infirmary he overhears an inmate question your marital status. "So, is a pretty lady like you spoken for?" Naturally, he comes to a slow stop and his ears perk up slightly, interested in what you have to say even though he already knows the answer. He can hear the polite smile in your voice as you respond to the male, "Yes, I believe you know him. He's addressed as 'Your Grace' in the underworld, is that right?"

Just then, the inmate ceases all romantic advances on you when tuffs of black hair come into his peripherals, a sputtered "Y-your Grace" echoing in the small room and you turn to meet your gaze with pale blue ones. "Ah, don't mind me. Please, keep doing what you were doing." Wriothesley waves his hand dismissively as though his huge presence doesn't command attention. "I just... uh, I need to have a word with the Head Nurse, is all."

"If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you are here to check up on me," you say with a soft giggle as soon as you detect the tiniest curve of his simper. He must've overheard the exchange just moments ago. "I promise you, I'm doing fine~ And you being here isn't doing the patients any good. Poor guy is now stiff as a board and it'll be quite difficult for me to do my job."

"Alright, alright." Wriothesley resigns with a deflated sigh, but smiles warmly when he moves over to press a chaste kiss on your temple. As much as you appreciate his surprise visit, you still have your assigned volunteer work to complete and he still has a prison to oversee and manage. "You'll meet me for lunch once you're finished here, sweetheart?"

"Of course, my love. I know where to find you." You return his smile with a sweetness of your own. "Now, go~ Before you scare off any more of the inmates."

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x fem reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley fluff

[stevebabey]

somewhere only we know

a/n: i accidentally made this so long & ran with the request in whatever way my heart desired! hope this is enuf hurt/comfort for all ur needs <3 word count: 5.6k summary: You haven’t seen Steve in a few weeks, barely a couple phone-calls keeping your relationship beating. You assume the worst. Steve does his best to make it up to you. [hurt/comfort + miscommunication + established relationship]

It’s hard to not think he’s avoiding you.

Steve never seemed the type of boyfriend who would be foolish enough to ice you out without so much as a word about something being wrong. He wears his heart on his sleeve — more than anyone you know.

You’d also like to think you would know. That by now, all these months together, you’ve would’ve somewhat memorised the twists and turns of his emotions. But if he’s dropped any clues about being upset with you, you certainly hadn’t picked up on them.

You think you’d prefer his iciness to this odd avoidance.

It has to be that he’s upset, you reason. You would prefer he’s upset; that’s fixable, doable, and completely normal for a couple. The alternative is harsh, a cruel thread of insecure thoughts; perhaps Steve has suddenly decided he doesn’t have time for you.

And it’s a lot harder to pretend that thought doesn’t sting terribly.

And look, you pride yourself on being a logical person. You’re not jumping to conclusions and you aren’t overreacting — at least, you really hope you aren’t. The suspicions aren’t unfounded. It doesn’t stop you from feeling a bit too unstitched, like an obsessed girlfriend who keeps too close tabs on her boyfriend.

Maybe it only feels that way because Steve isn’t checking up on you as much as he used to. The healthy two-way road you both shared has suddenly become, agonizingly, one-way.

You’ve been trying not to count the days apart, nor note the shortness of the calls — just a couple weeks ago, he was talking your ear off and rounding up the phone bill, so what happened? It follows you around, a soft weight that presses your shoulders down, til it leaks in every second thought like a sleepy poison.

You don’t want to be jealous. You don’t want to be clingy.

It’s criminal how you don’t know that Steve would love nothing more.

When it gets to one week without seeing him, some of the worry transforms. You let it turn you away from him, some part deep inside that doesn’t want to get hurt putting up the defenses early, just in case, and you throw yourself into work. Worry about trivial things in your everyday life instead of about him. You give him his space.

One week becomes two. 

You’re not sure what mixture of feelings bubbles up when he calls on Tuesday morning. It feels like resentment, which you desperately shove down — combined with relief, with happiness, to be hearing his voice again. Even if it’s just down the phone line.

“Hi Stevie,” you say into the phone, the affectionate name slipping out, pure habit.

Your grin, an instant result of hearing his voice, fades a bit. You remind yourself to rein in it, an echo of thought that you’re too clingy forcing its way to the forefront of your mind.

“Hi, angel.” He coos back over the line, melting at the sound of your voice. It’s been too long since he’s seen you — he practically sags against the wall, gripping the phone tighter as if it’ll bring you closer to him.

It’s been hectic. He’s been training the new hire at work, since Robin back at school, all while hustling to get in his application for the local community college. On top of that, he’s trying to wrangle the moving details of the new apartment he finally managed to get his name down on.

Hectic feels like the understatement of the century to Steve.

He could tell you — and god, Steve really wants to. But a bigger part of him wants to see the surprise when you realise he’ll have a place that’s all his. No more sneaking through windows or quiet kisses interrupted by someone getting up in the night; an uninterrupted space for his love. Somewhere only the two of you get to know.

He ignores the part of his heart that wants to ask you, sometime in the future, not just yet, to come with him. To make his place yours as well.

For now, it’s all about the surprise. He’d planned it from the beginning, since the moment the keys to the apartment had been pressed into his palm. Steve wanted to treat you, to some swanky candlelit dinner for Friday date night, roses at the door, the whole nine yards, instead of a usual movie date.

The pet name softens you. Something inside eases and you wonder if have been being dramatic — he doesn’t seem different, seemingly unaware of the distance. Hearing his voice makes you miss him all that much more.

“How’s your morning been, huh?” He asks. He could ask how your last couple weeks have been considering how long it’s been since he’s found time to come to see you. He gnaws at his lip, trying to ignore the ache in his heart, and hopes it’ll be worth it.

“It’s been good! I mean as good as-“

A knock sounds at Steve’s front door and he curses, interrupting your reply. You pause, waiting to hear why he’s interrupted.

“Shit, I’m so sorry I’ve gotta— there’s someone at the door.”

Your throat tightens uncomfortably and you swallow it down, praying it won’t come out when you speak. Your voice is thankfully even when you say, “That’s alright. Go get it, just- just call me back later, yeah?”

“Later, definitely,” Steve promises, feeling terrible for having to hang up on the first conversation he’s had with you in too long. What kind of boyfriend is he? He has half a mind to ignore the door, just to keep talking to you — but the knock comes again, more insistent.

If it’s Henderson, Steve swears he’s gonna kick his ass.

“I love you.” His voice says down the line, voice sweet and it’s still enough to kick your heart into a flurry. You feel a bit more settled hearing it and grin, even though he can’t see it.

“I love you too.”

It’s not Dustin at the door— it’s Eddie, flaunting a grin and a gesture to his rust bucket of a van parked in Steve’s drive. Both are here at Steve’s request. Taking all his boxes in the beemer would ensure more than a dozen trips across town. And even with all his excitement to be out of the Harrington house, Steve’s sure it would take all but three trips to tire him out.

Eddie’s a bit early, a far cry from his usual tardiness, and Steve curses his sudden change of habit, today of all days. He tells Eddie as much as he tapes up the last of his open boxes.

Eddie, ever the charmer, let’s Steve direct what to grab and what to leave without much lip, much to Steve’s relief. They talk, a light banter thrown between them, and Eddie asks all the right questions; When’s the first party? What courses is he taking? What lewd favour does he have to do for Steve to let him host DnD there on occasion?

By the time the last box is in the car, Steve shoving Eddie for the mere suggestion — “you can host if you ask like a normal person, dude.” — the phone call is long forgotten.

It’s not his fault, not really. There’s a special frenzy in filling the hardwood floors of his cramped new kitchen with boxes of his stuff, a euphoric buzz that only comes with molding a new space into a home.

By the time he’s unpacked what little he owns into the space — the kitchen only has one pan, two mugs, both gifted to him by Dustin on separate Christmas’, and one or two plates he thought his parents wouldn’t notice missing — it’s late.

The only piece of furniture in the place is some shitty couch he and Robin had dragged off the sidewalk the day before. It’s a bit gross but not so much that he could refuse something free.

Steve sinks into it, drinking in the sight of the empty boxes strewn around his new apartment. Something in his heart glitters happily. For the first time since Eddie showed up at his door, Steve finally relaxes.

It’s 11.41pm and all he wishes is that you were with him.

The phonecall.

Just as quickly as it slipped his mind, Steve remembers it. The memory of it sinks into his stomach heavily and quickly, punching out a breath. His insides twist up with blackened regret as Steve thinks back to how many hours ago he’d promised to call you back. His eyes flash to the watch on his wrist.

He deflates a bit, seeing how late it is. Even though he would — he’d call you at 2am, hell, whenever you asked him to, just to talk — Steve won’t wake your whole family just to apologise.

Shit, he thinks softly and screws his eyes closed for a moment. There was no telling what reaction you’d have, given he’d accidentally blown you off like you were some one-time date, not his girlfriend — hot anger or maybe, icy silent treatment. Nancy had done that to him once; her jaw tight and narrowed eyes giving away her anger even though she insisted I’m fine, Steve, so just drop it.

It’s made all the worse considering he hasn’t seen you in a couple of weeks. Regret feasts in his gut. All of a sudden, keeping all this moving a secret seems colossally dumb. Steve knows you would’ve jumped at the chance to help him move.

It’s an anguishing thought to imagine — the fact the two of you could’ve been unboxing this next chapter together. You’d work up a sweat from the exertion of moving boxes, random fly-aways sticking up and god, Steve would think you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. And then he would’ve coaxed you down to the couch with his kisses til he was sure you knew it too. 

If he wasn’t so set on surprising you, maybe instead you’d be here with him now, nestled in his arms.

Instead, Steve’s alone and you’re across town thinking god knows what about him.

A groan fights its way out of Steve’s throat, dozens of thoughts spinning off each other on how to fix this. How can he make it up to you and make sure you knew he was still thinking of always.

But sleep had to come first.

— 

You’d never admit out loud how long you waited for the phone to ring.

After a certain amount of silence, you’d slowly bled back into your jobs around the house, never straying too far from the phone. You’re not sure what it is that fizzes under your skin but the longer the phone stays quiet, the more it stings. The distance between you and Steve feels yawning.

It rings, only once, and you leap for it — only to get your heart gets washed down the drain at the voice of one of your mother’s friends.

It makes getting up for your Wednesday morning shift seems an impossible feat.

He likely got busy, you have to remind yourself painfully. The Steve you knew would never, never purposefully leave you hanging. You hate the thought that pings into your brain, wondering if there really was anyone at the door. That he told you so he could escape the conversation quicker because he was avoiding you.

That, perhaps, this wasn’t your Steve anymore.

You have to repeat he called you to yourself firmly, trying to drown out the self-doubt. It doesn’t work.

It feels like something final has been decided by Steve and you’ve been left in the dark, grasping at straws. You can’t help but believe that the worst has been confirmed, that Steve doesn’t have time for you anymore. You feel grossly over-attached to him now and know that if you have to pull away, each thread connecting you to him will pull and hurt.

His phone call, Wednesday afternoon, right when Steve knows you’ll be home, doesn’t ease you much.

“I‘m—” He sucks in a huge breath, loud enough you can hear it over the phone. “—so unbelievably sorry that I forgot to call you back. Honest, I promise I had a really good reason to get distracted. I’m so so sorry, It won’t happen again, I swear, scout’s honour.”

The rambling words, tinged with nervousness, manage to persuade a smile out of you. The relief that washes over you feels charged, a bit overwhelming, so much that you can’t keep your voice even when you respond. 

“That’s okay.” You say a little weaker than you intend.

It makes the regret in Steve’s gut twist up a little tighter. It’s gut-wrenching to consider another reaction, that maybe you’re not angry with him but upset. Steve thinks that this is decisively worse. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I—I’m really sorry.” He insists again, despair leaking into the words. He presses the phone closer. “Please let me make it up to you?”

“Sure.” You say, aiming for nonchalant but the word comes out too tight in your throat. Cursing yourself, you barrel on in hopes to keep Steve talking. You don’t really want to give away how much his distance has affected you. “What was it that distracted you, hm?”

“About that.” Steve chuckles light, beginning to feel his excitement wind up at the prospect of showing you the new place.

The original plan to wait til Friday, to do the proper date, is canned. The giddiness of his new place can’t be contained and there was no one he’d rather share it with than you. And fuck, he misses you.

It had been the last thing he had decided before drifting off to sleep, one of his last nights in his parents’ home. Rain or shine, whether you were angry or not, Steve needed to see you tomorrow.

“Are you free?” He asks, even though he knows you are. By Wednesday afternoon, you’re always free because he usually swings by and takes you out for shakes.

Eyes screwing shut, Steve holds in a wince at the realisation he’d missed that tradition with you for the last two weeks.

And you hadn’t mentioned a word to him.

His heart tears at the thought of you waiting on your doorstep like usual, while he’d been too preoccupied to even remember. He doesn’t want to think about how long it took you to realise he wasn’t coming.

“Can I come see you?” The words burst out before you’ve even answered his first question. It doesn’t matter — seeing you, feeling your touch again, and getting to deliver every kiss he’s saved over the past week takes top priority in his mind. “I promise I’ll—“

Steve thinks he might be cursed because this is the second time he’s been interrupted on the phone with you. This time, however, it’s a very specific hum of a car pulling in the drive; the engine sounding far too smooth to be Eddie’s.

Pulling the phone away from his ear, Steve whips around to peer out at the drive. A stone drops into his stomach at the sight. Beside his BMW, his parent’s car is parked in the usually vacant spot. Fuck.

They had told him they’d be gone a whole extra week and Steve had wanted to be out before they returned — to have everything he needed at the new place before his father decided he needed a lecture and a friendly rough-around on the way out as well.

“Steve?” Your voice warbles out the phone, pulled back from his ear. Steve jumps to attention, remembering himself.

“Baby,” he breathes into the phone, suddenly broken from his prolonged silence. You’re a bit concerned at this point, between his sudden cut-off and now hurried voice. “I- fuck, I have to go. I swear this—”

He groans, pent-up frustration leaking in as he hears the lock enter the front door, announcing his parents’ arrival.

How can he explain all this in the five seconds of privacy before his parents burst his bubble? Steve’s parents didn’t even know about you; dating was strictly a business prospect in the Harrington House. Steve had known from the beginning they would’ve never approved of you.

“Um, okay.” You sound a bit stiff and too casual. “That’s- that’s fine.”

“Please believe me,” He rushes out, eyes fixed on the front door as it opens. “I wouldn’t go if I didn’t absolutely have to.”

It doesn’t matter if they grill them about who’s on the phone, Steve needs to say i love you. Needs to hear it back.

Silence. No response from you. He’s talking to the dial tone.

— 

Your head is a storm.

Conflict rages wildly, a heavy thunder that might be your heartbeat — your anxiety has kicked it up a couple beats — and flashes of lightning, striking terrible thoughts, all contained within your head.

The fact Steve was the one to call you is too weak to keep your head straight. It hurts pathetically, to think you’ve been forgotten. Neglected by someone you hold in the highest regard — and he hadn’t even been able to tell you why. Another phone call where he’s clearly got more important things on his hands.

You didn’t want to hang up on him, not before the usual i love you’s; but if you had waited, then he would have heard how watery it was. Heard the quiver in your voice. And he’d drop everything, all his obviously very important plans, to come see you.

You don’t want him to come over because he’s made you cry — you want him to come over because he wants to see you.

It’s such a simple ask. The fact you think he’d deny you it, too busy, feels heavier than you’d ever imagined. Your pillowcase becomes well acquainted with the taste of your tears as you bury yourself under covers, trying desperately to keep your heart intact.

What happened to your clingy, always touchy, forever wanting you around, boyfriend? It aches to think that that chapter of your relationship may have passed.

Tiredness overtakes your misery at some point, drifting you off into fitful sleep that doesn’t provide any rest.

You’re drawn out of it a few hours later, soft touches that feel like Steve because you’ve felt them dozens of times before, memorised without thought — but Steve is busy or avoiding you, or some third worse thing you don’t want to consider. You shiver off the ghosting pressure in your hair.

A murmur of your name.

The touch of his palm, pressed against your hairline, startles you a bit when you realise it’s real. Your eyes pop open in your surprise, taken aback to find Steve before you. He’s here. 

Crouched by the bed, his hand pushes the strands of your hair back from your face with a gentle touch. He looks as upset as you feel, brows scrunched together in the middle— a frown pulls his lips down, eyes glistening with hurt. He’s upset to see you upset.

“Hi.” He whispers, all soft.

It’s dark out now. Hazarding a guess, you’d say you’ve been asleep for a couple of hours, aided by your exhaustion from crying. You can feel it, eyes stiff and nose still sniffly. It feels pathetic and so you roll in on yourself, tucking your face into your pillow for a moment.

You give yourself a moment to breathe, to gather words to speak to him without falling back to tears and asking outright why he doesn’t like you anymore. Steve’s hand, still stroking soft as ever, coaxes your face out of hiding, his thumb dipping to press warmth along your temple.

“What—“ It comes out too scratchy and you clear your throat. Steve’s hand still soothes your skin, thumb light and loving. “What’re you doing here?”

You don’t need to ask how he got in— Steve’s come in through the window enough times that the movements are all muscle memory. He chews his cheek in deliberation: where to start?

You’ve obviously been crying, a heart-wrenching fact that turns all the more foul considering Steve knows it’s because of him. Maybe even worse is remembering the conversations that had been clipped short, paired with his absence of the last couple weeks. He hasn’t been taking good care of you.

“Had to come see my girl, of course.” He says, low and sweet. His frown pulls up into a weak smile, fingers travelling down cup your face. His thumb catches the first tear that escapes, unbidden, and something alike to horror streams through his system.

“Sweetheart,” he dotes, emotion clinging tightly to his words — his thumb dutifully collects the next tear, as if it makes up the fact he’s caused them. “Wha—“

“Are we okay?”

You have to ask. You can’t handle another affection-soaked word out his lips if there’s still a possibility it may be the last time he’ll give them to you. Your heart aches unbearingly to ask, to even suggest the idea alone and tempt fate, but you have to know.

Steve’s eyes widen, lips parting and for a moment, he’s shocked into silence. It’s like each nerve alights in his body, a flush of physical pain at the mere suggestion you’re making.

You think the time apart is purposeful. Shame follows, scattered scolding thoughts at his carelessness for ever letting you think so. You won’t even look at him, eyes trained on the sheets. 

He faintly recalls being on the other end of this treatment; when Nancy had run around chasing monsters and left him to wonder why she’d decided to leave him out all of sudden. Like Steve, she’d had a perfectly good reason to do so — and yet seeing you like this still unravels the stitching of his heart which falls apart pitifully in his chest.

Every pet name soars to his mind but instead, he just says your name. 

You still don’t meet his eye. As gently as he can, Steve lets his fingers drift to your chin and coax your attention to him. Steve’s forever been about touch, he can think of a thousand different ways to apologise with a brush, a caress, a kiss — far better than he’s ever been at words. He leans in, slow and meaningful.

If you were upset normally Steve would wait, hover, and let you decide whether he’s allowed to steal a kiss. But right now you don’t need his hesitance, you need this; the sweet press of his lips that leaves no room for thinking anything else.

It’s weakening tender. You let the curve of his bottom lip come home to its place between yours.

He kisses you strong, so the fervor in his affection can’t be denied, to banish every thought that lead to your question of are we okay? All his pent-up kisses of the last weeks, all promised to you.

“Yes,” he breathes as he pulls back, still close enough to feel the heat of him. Steve watches your lashes flutter, eyes dance around his face, and settle on his own. “Please don’t ever think we aren’t.”

He kisses you once more and when you chase his mouth, he grants you another gladly, without thought. His lips graze up your face, a warm kiss to your cheek, to your nose, and a final one dropped onto your forehead.

“I’m sorry you thought we weren’t.” He murmurs into your hair. He’s all but encased you — nothing exists but the duvet and Steve before you, hands in your hair, lips on your skin, the scent of him curls comfortingly into your senses.

“I’ll forgive you if you come cuddle.” You grumble with a smile, happy to let yourself lean into his hand, soaking in the closeness. It’s not entirely true — you want answers, to know what has been eating up his time. But being in his arms, a hold you’ve missed for weeks now, will sate you if only for a bit.

Steve breaks into a smile at your words, eyes darting to your window momentarily. He licks his lips.

“Actually, I was hoping to show you something.” Steve suggests though it’s more a question than an insistence. “Show you what’s been keeping me from my girl.”

If you had said no, shook your head, or even just pulled back the duvet, Steve would’ve shucked off his jacket and had you bundled in his arms in an instant. He can see the ticking of your brain, eyes weighing up the tiredness alongside the curiosity of what’s kept your boyfriend from you.

Something in his poorly contained excitement, bottom lip cherry red from him he bites it, sways you.

“Okay.” You mumble, still softly spoken. You nod your head lightly, eyes scanning over his face to drink in the fondness you’ve craved for weeks. “Yeah, s’just wanna be with you right now.”

Your words manage to soften him even more, a ripple that melts through him. Torn between elation at the love and devastation that he’d been the one to keep you both apart for too long.

His thumb sweeps across your cheek once more, crowding back in to press a kiss to your forehead, murmuring his next words into the skin. “Course, honey. C’mon, lemme show you. Promise it’s worth it.”

Your fingers intertwine with his, strong and sure. The small time apart seems to spur you both closer, giggles spilling as you both clamber back out your window, Steve’s hands never parting from yours. The grass is cool against your ankles as you scramble out, stumbling into his chest when you lose your balance — relishing in how it only makes him tug you in tighter.

Even as Steve starts up the car, golden headlights illuminating the empty road, he only untwists his fingers long enough to put the car into gear. There’s nothing but the grumble of the engine, streetlights flashing past, and the cool leather seat beneath you.

At each turn, Steve lifts your hand and kisses along your knuckles, soft and warm. You think he’s still apologising. His eyes seem to be asking for forgiveness, glittering in the dark.

When your hands land back on your lap, this time you’re the one to lift them and brush a kiss along his hand. I forgive you. His grip tightens in your hand.

You’re not sure where you’re heading, too focused on your boyfriend to take note of the route — and it still doesn’t click even when Steve parks outside one of the downtown apartment buildings.

It all feels so juvenile, like giddy teenagers sneaking out, letting Steve pull you across the empty night-time streets with a giggle. The wind wraps around your bare legs, crisp and cool. You hadn’t changed before you’d both left.

It’s only when he spins his key ring around deftly, searching for a specific key, does something slide into place in your mind. Your eyes stare up at the building ahead, then at the keys on Steve’s key ring; he seems to be watching you in his peripheral, waiting for the shoe to drop. He’s smiling.

“Did you...?” You gasp quietly.

Eyes wide, you stare up at Steve and can’t finish your sentence. Your heart trips over itself in its excitement as you finally figure it out. Steve’s grinning now, only taking his eyes off you to insert the lock in the door to the building; he can tell you’ve figured it out now.

The lock makes a clunk as he twists the key, unlocking it. It feels like so much more than opening a door — it feels something akin to unraveling a thousand potential futures, all with you and Steve together in them. Everything about his absence makes sense, a jarring shift in perspective as you realise what he’s been doing all this time.

“What floor?” You ask, sounding a bit breathless already in your excitement. Steve pushes the door to the lobby open, holding it for you to pass through. There’s an elevator but you book for the stairs, clutching his hand the whole time. The lobby door snicks shut behind you, unheard.

Your footsteps clatter loudly, likely waking a few residents, but you can’t find it within you to care. Your thighs burn by the time you reach the top of the first set of stairs and whip around, finding Steve’s adoring grin following you. His hair is a little mussed from the rush.

He nods to the next staircase, fingers squeezing yours excitedly. “One more.”

Steve’s never been happier to let you drag him around, your excitement palpable in the energy of your run. It’s a far cry from your sleepy state earlier.

When you reach the top of the stairs, Steve takes the lead and your flurry of laughter follows him all the way to his new door. The pair of you crowd against it, tangles of arms and lips because you’ve suddenly decided it’s criminal to not kiss him right now.

It’s messy and rushed. You’re back is pressed against the door and Steve kisses you til your knees are weak, hot and hard, even as he tries to wiggle the lock open.

The moment it’s open, you both tumble in a clatter. You kick off your shoes and leave them at the door, spinning to drink in his new place. It’s barren, just a couch, not even a coffee table. You decide it’s already your favourite in the world.

Steve lets you go, watching as you zoom around the space, sliding into the kitchen with a gleeful sound that is far too noisy for the hour.

You’re pulling at every cupboard, leaving a row of open cabinet doors — it doesn’t matter that the apartment isn’t anywhere new, each of them seems endlessly interesting to you. Steve decided he’s had enough of watching, toeing off his shoes and skidding into the kitchen.

His arms around your middle surprise you, some yelp of shock that immediately fizzles into more laughter when Steve picks you up. It’s a halfhearted spin, more to hold you than anything and before you can spin and kiss him like you so desperately want, he’s taking you both down the hall.

Positioning you both in front of a door, Steve pauses. You think you know what door this is. A kiss on your temple. Another on your shoulder, one on your neck. He leaves his face there, nuzzled in closer, and gestures to the door with a jerk of his chin.

“Open it.” He murmurs, between another round of scattered kisses. Like it’s your new bedroom, not his.

Like the rest of the apartment, it’s more empty than not. A poorly made-up mattress against the back wall, beneath the window, and a few bags of clothes scattered throughout the room. You can recognise the forest green duvet cover on the mattress, familiar sheets.

It still smells like Steve when you bury yourself in them, Steve falling down beside you not a moment later. You relish in it all, being surrounded by all things Steve. You’ve missed it all in the weeks apart.

“You’ve certainly been busy.” You mean it as a tease— the fact he’s managed to wrangle down an apartment along with his job and organising college, it’s no wonder he hadn’t found time to see you.

Seeing how his grin dims, eyes drooping, you have no doubt it’s been weighing on him too. “Again, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. That last phone call—“

He sighs, rolling away from you and pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes. A groan rumbles out as he drags them down his face, remembering how you’d hung up on him just earlier today.

“Baby, it’s okay,” you hush him, dragging away his hands to cup his face with your own. His face still holds conflict, the tale of his day unwinding off his tongue before he can think.

“My parents came home early.” He admits, a bit weak. “I was trying to get everything out before they came back— you know how, uh, how they would’ve taken it.”

His eyes close, nose scrunched, just for a moment before he continues. “Eddie had just left to take the mattress over and I called you but that’s when… Well, that’s why we’re just on a mattress on the ground.”

Your light laughter hoists Steve’s mood upwards, feeling himself smile as he watches you beside him on the sheets. You shuffle closer, draping yourself across him so your cheek lays against his chest.

“We can get you a new bed frame.” You say like the prospect is more exciting than it is annoying. Steve adores how you say we — that you’ll come with him, pick things out for this next part of his life. Intertwine into the things he owns now, as well as in his heart. 

“I’m sorry for hanging up on you earlier.” You breathe a little softer, and then as if it’s just delayed from the call, you say, “I love you.”

Some part of him that Steve can’t ever seem to shake sighs in relief. Today is not a bad day at all. You’re here, in his arms, in his new place and you love him still.

“I love you too.” Steve hums, arms pulling tighter around you. “And I’m sorry for making you worry.”

When you look up at him, really look, his eyes are shining. His shirt is rumpled, hair ruffled from your tangle onto the bed and he looks utterly beautiful. It just won’t do. You shift upwards and when you kiss him, it’s hard and fiercely loving. Too much saved affection coming out in one go.

Steve sighs happily against your lips, arms tightening and when you break apart, Steve nearly asks then and there. Come with me. Make this our bedroom instead of just mine. We’ll make this somewhere only we know.

It’s not the time. Instead, he whispers his i love you’s onto your lips and when he spills all his half-baked plans for dates and the endless possibilities of the new space, when he promises to never worry you like that again — you’ve got no choice but to believe him.

His endless kisses won’t let you believe anything else anyways.

tags below!

@hawkinsindiana @spideystevie @harringtonbf​ @televisionboy

#blairshgo #do i love this? not completely #but we PERSIST #i think i only don't love it cos ive reread the draft a thousand times #but here we GO here it IS #this is for all the girlies that are worried ppl will get bored & leave them <3 stevie would never #steve give me kiss after all that torment #ruby writes #ruby writes steve #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve #harrington #steve x reader #steve fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #steve imagine #steve harrington oneshot #steve oneshot #stranger things #stranger things x reader #harrington x reader #stranger things fic

[sunkendreams]

Ok hear me out bc this has been in my mind for a minute. Lester secretly toying and touching reader in the truck while someone is standing outside the truck, be it Bo, some potential victim I just feel like he is the type

heatstroke.

( lester sinclair x fem!reader. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lester sinclair x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓: one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.3K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT! (mdni), public sex, risky location, vaginal fingering, fingering (f!feceiving), fingerfucking, spit as lube, dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, very mild coercion, lester is a bit of a pervert, bo sinclair cameo, obsessive/slightly creepy behavior from lester

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: listen ,,, you were onto something incredible when you requested this, this was so hot to write you don’t understand !!! lester is criminally underrated aaaaand this was so much hornier than I thought it’d be !! hope y’all enjoy! ❤️

TAGLIST: @freyjasfenrir ; @darklylucid ; @chaotichellscape ; @kiki-dohedo ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @milland ; @the-anxious-youth ; @nastymensimp

Summertime in Louisiana was akin to setting fire in a desert — humidity on top of an acrid, stifling heat. You didn’t have a clue as to why your friends dragged you all the way out here under the false pretense of a camping trip. In all actuality, they wanted to visit this town that wasn’t listed on any map — Ambrose.

The journey itself was treacherous, going through thick, endless woodlands, marshlands, and bogs before coming towards the town. It was just around the bend, a large chunk of the road missing, now consumed by swampwater, jagged rocks, and erosion. Your friend was confident that he could maneuver his truck through it — boy, was he wrong.

“It won’t make it,” Josie chimed, standing beside you as the both of you watched a pair of young men attempt to push the truck through the wash. The truck unceremoniously came to a grinding, screeching halt, tires partially buried within the mud. “Idiots.”

You kept quiet, idly smoothing your palms across the little, floral sundress you wore. You certainly weren’t dressed for camping — you had no interest. Going to Ambrose was supposed to be a ‘day out on the town’, with your desire being to look at small shops and simply enjoy the atmosphere.

“Maybe we should call somebody,” You piped up, nervously wringing your hands together. “There has to be a tow truck around, you think?” Anxiousness blossomed within the pit of your stomach, giving you a feeling of uncertainty. You wished that they would’ve just listened and tried to drive around it.

“Cut the shit, we don’t need a tow truck.” Josie’s boyfriend, Tate, growled in protest. Admittedly, you had no idea why you were out here in the staggering heat with these three. Tate and Josie had been your friends since high school, but Cody, the third boy, was simply here out of devotion to Josie. You were confident that there was something else going on.

Josie shot you an apologetic glance, but you had enough of watching them push at a truck that wasn’t moving anywhere whatsoever. With a begrudging sigh, you started down the dirt path in the direction of Ambrose, carefully stepping across rocks to avoid caking your boots in a layer of viscous mud.

“Where are you going?” Josie called out, and you simply waved your hand at her, dismissive of her concerns. You were sick and tired of being around the trio, anyway. A walk and a bit of fresh air would do you a world of good.

“Going to town to find somebody.” You replied, and continued walking, crossbody purse slung over your frame as you made the short trek into town. It seemed exceptionally lively — plenty of stores, the chattering ambiance of a quaint neighborhood, and vintage, neon signs that pointed you toward your destination.

You were delighted to discover the gas station and mechanic shop, which already seemed to be inhabited by someone. An old, beat-up pickup truck sat by the gas pumps, back of the bed shoddily cleaned-out, save for a few remnants of roadkill and animal bones. There was an ‘L. S.’ carved into the worn metal above the back wheel, which you curiously traced your fingers over.

The hot sun blistered down upon you, making it stifling due to the now-faded asphalt you stood upon. You quickly ducked underneath the shaded cover of the gas station, almost colliding into someone when you rounded the front of the truck.

“Oh!” You gasped, chest tight with a momentary lapse of fear. “I’m so sorry!” The energy you carried was akin to that of a nervous nelly, clearly unnerved by her surroundings. You felt horrible for running into some innocent bystander — the owner of the truck, you figured.

You were met with the skeptical, hazel-eyed gaze of a man who reminded you of a possum. Rugged, scraggly, and clearly meant for the woodlands. He straightened his hat out, head cocking to one side when he peered down at you — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, sugar! Guess I wasn’t watchin’ where I was goin’, neither.”

His voice bore that native Southern dialect, but he didn’t sound hostile whatsoever. When you finally got a good look at him, he seemed scrappy — maybe he lived in Ambrose. A large buck knife was holstered to his hip, neck adorned in a series of chokers and necklaces, decorated in some sort of animal bone.

“Say, what’cha doin’ ‘round here, anyway?” He inquired, leaning against the door of his truck. “Y’look a little lost.” His tone remained friendly, high-spirited, even. He was somewhat grimy, covered in a layer of dewy perspiration, wiping his hands off on a damp cloth.

“My friends and I were coming up here to visit the town, but our truck got stuck in that patch of marsh just around the bend,” You sighed, somewhat agitated with the whole scenario. If they would’ve listened to you, the truck would be just fine and not tire-deep in the mud. “I was just looking for some help.”

There was a sparkling in his eyes, a peculiar glittering that intrigued you to no end. A chuckle escaped him, finding humor in the situation. “They should’a jus’ drove ‘round.” He mused, and you had to laugh, even if it was a bitter sound. You kept your hands tucked together, idly fiddling with the strap of your purse.

Your expression was somewhat amused, lips twitching into a sardonic smile. “That’s what I said,” You sighed, happy to be away from the oppressive glare of the midday sun. “Either way, we’re stuck. Do you know if there’s a tow truck around here, or someone who could help?” You asked.

He grinned — a toothy, wolfish grin. Lester wasn’t blessed with Bo’s natural handsomeness, but he certainly had the personality to offset it all. He liked that you smiled and laughed along with him, didn’t treat him like backwoods trash, either. “M’brother’s got a tow truck! Bet he’d help ya out! Why don’t I give ‘im a call?”

Finally — your savior.

Relief rippled through you as you nodded several times over, rifling through your purse to unveil a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Here,” You insisted. “For the call and for your help. I can’t thank you enough.” You nodded, but the man simply pushed your hand away.

Being around you was a reward in itself — and once his brothers took care of your friends, you would be his prize in all of this. He couldn’t have been any happier with how all of this was progressing. Lester opened up the driver’s side door, grabbing a rather shoddy-looking flip-phone. He was still trying to figure these things out.

One call to Bo later, and his older brother was coming out with the tow-truck and all of that oozing charm, like a shepherd leading the flock to the slaughter. Lester insisted that he keep you out of it — you were sweet, he could tell.

He liked that.

“He’s on his way,” Lester chimed, swiveling around to face you again. He stuck out his hand in greeting. “M’Lester, by th’way! It’s real nice to meet you, sugar. Say, if you’re bakin’ in the sun, could sit in m’truck with me while the rest do the heavy liftin’.” The offer was absolutely tempting to you.

You reached out, introducing yourself with a charming grin and another burst of bubbly laughter. “It’s nice to meet you, Lester. Thank you so much for all of your help, again. You’re an angel.” He was very kind and upbeat — Jesus, you even found him to be cute. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother.”

Lester grinned again, completely and utterly enamored with you as he waved a hand towards the truck. “I’m real sure, promise! Don’t want that pretty little face of yours t’melt right off. You can sit with me while Bo works his magic.” He insisted, opening up the door as a sign of invitation.

A pleasant wave of heat flooded throughout your body — and while you thought it was from the weather, it was from Lester’s subtle flirtation. You couldn’t help but giggle, nose wrinkling in amusement as you climbed up into his truck. Lester stood behind you, shamelessly admiring the way your dress fit you, from lovely curves to the faintest glimpse of your thighs.

As you crawled into the cabin, you noticed the morbid array of bone and rope dangling from the top mirror. The inside smelled of stale blood, damp dirt, and the faint scent of cigarettes. You folded one leg over the other, swiping away a thin layer of sweat that built up along the back of your neck.

A tow truck came soaring down the road, rickety and beat-up. The driver wore a mechanic’s uniform and a ball cap — you assumed it was Bo, the man Lester was referring to. “M’gonna drive us back down to the bend. No reason for you t’walk.” He mused, hopping in beside you as he started the engine.

The truck roared to life, and Lester maneuvered the vehicle out of the gas station, whipping it back around to approach the swampy wash where your caravan had gotten stuck at.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” You asked, head canting to one side. You leaned up against the door, palm tucked underneath your chin. Whenever you weren’t looking, you were completely oblivious to Lester’s constant ogling of your body.

He kept one hand perched atop the patchwork, leather-covered steering wheel, the other resting along the edge of the window. “Mostly,” Lester piped up, letting out a low whistle. “Ambrose ain’t on the map. Hard for anybody to come out this way without lookin’ real close.” He replied, truck slugging along at a crawl.

“It’s pretty out here,” You hummed, tracing a finger along the dashboard, collecting a layer of dust in the process. “I wouldn’t want to leave. You’ve got everything you need here in town. It’s peaceful.” When you adjusted your position, your dress hitched just a little higher.

“Yer welcome t’stay, if y’like it so much.” Lester mused, which got you to laugh. As tempting as it sounded, nestled away within the Louisiana wilderness, you knew that your friends would go against it. “They even got a beauty pageant, Miss Ambrose.”

Intrigued, you cocked your head to one side, letting out another giggle as you peered outside towards the forests. “A beauty pageant? I’ve never done one of those before. I’m sure I’d have plenty of competition.” You sighed, idly fiddling with the hem of your sundress. The jean jacket you were wearing over it only made you nearly collapse from heatstroke.

Lester grinned, a playful chuckle escaping him. “Naw, I think you’d win th’whole thing.” He was really laying on the compliments and old-fashioned charm, driving the truck down the path and around the bend. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen ‘round here!” Singing your praises was one way to get you flustered.

This was the last thing you ever expected, being hit on by a rugged stranger you’d just met. Nevertheless, the attention you were receiving was amazing, something you weren’t used to. “You’re really sweet.” You accepted the compliment without retort, idly preening your fingers over the top of your head.

By the time you’d gotten back to the wash, Lester’s brother was sitting in the cab of the tow-truck, attempting to haul the other vehicle out of the mud. You waved at your friend from the window as he put it into park, letting it idle. Josie and Tate happened to use it as something to lean on, but Lester didn’t say anything to protest.

“Ain’t you jus’ gorgeous?” Lester crooned, pinching the hem of your dress between his thumb and forefinger. Your skin felt abnormally hot, like a fever as you shifted in your seat, visibly sheepish to the man’s seemingly harmless flirting. “Real nice dress, too.”

“Thanks,” You mumbled, ducking your head as his knuckles innocently brushed over the top of your thigh. Goosebumps erupted in his wake, causing you to shiver as you averted your gaze. “Maybe I should get out and see if everything’s okay.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Lester cocked his head to one side, eyes glittering with something indiscernible. The rough, calloused pads of his fingertips traced over your thigh. “Y’sure, sugar? I was thinkin’ you could stay here with me,” He mused, lips spitting into a toothy smirk. “Could make it worth yer while.” His voice was sickly-sweet, like honey.

Something hung heavy in the air — suffocating heat coupled with the flurry of tension crackling within the cab of Lester’s truck. Admittedly, you were more aroused than you should’ve been, given how forward and crass this was, but there was certainly a thrill in it.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stealing another glance outside the window. Your friends were just outside of the truck — if you made too much noise or squirmed, they would notice. “What if somebody sees?” You whimpered, feeling a rush of oozing warmth coalesce between your thighs.

“Looks you’ll have t’be real quiet,” Lester hummed, hand prodding at your dress again. “Why don’t you go on an’ lift that up for me, gorgeous?” You shouldn’t have been this riled up and turned on for a complete stranger, but he was tempting — maybe it was his kind demeanor coupled with lust. You weren’t sure.

A fluttering sensation erupted throughout the pit of your stomach, prompting you to shift your thighs together as you began to shyly tug your dress up. Lester had subtly shifted closer, shorter than an arm’s length distance as you let some of the fabric pool around your hips.

There was some sick thrill you got with this, buried deep down — in hindsight, you shouldn’t have been entertaining this, but Lester seemed more than willing. You glanced toward the window, breath hitching when Josie glanced back at you with a puzzled expression.

To quell her concern, you swiftly gave her a thumbs-up, perspiration creeping along your spine as you subtly shifted a little closer to your new friend. His soft snickering filled the cab, calloused palm gingerly kneading into your thigh.

“Nice n’soft,” Lester mumbled, Southern drawl dropping to a hushed octave. “Y’feel like velvet.” His compliment made you shiver with anticipation, legs parting as you shyly began to ruck the skirt of your dress up. He leaned in, giving your hair a sniff — you smelled sweet, like a fresh bouquet of honeyed flowers.

You swallowed the lump within your throat, angling yourself a little more in his direction, enough to remain inconspicuous. Lester traced his hand along your thigh, drinking in the feeling of your velveteen complexion underneath his fingertips.

Without missing a beat, you sluggishly placed your hand atop his, guiding it toward the heat coalescing between your legs. Lester appeared surprised, cracking another bemused grin as you let his fingers settle along the waistband of your panties. You were desperate, wriggling atop the sticky leather beneath you.

Your fingers curled into the seat, chest tight with a familiar fluttering once his fingers finally crossed the threshold, slipping beneath the thin, cotton material. He nudged your legs further apart, deliberately stroking at your cunt, toying with you just a little bit. “D’aw,” He crooned. “That all fer me?”

Part of you wanted to simply melt into a pile of nothingness, lips parted as a sweet moan escaped you. His touches were tantalizing, feather-light and leaving you aching for more. “Y—Yeah,” You sighed, keeping your voice low as Lester pushed past your folds, two digits beginning to glide against your cunt. “Keep going.” You mewled.

Lester rarely, if ever, did anything like this.

Admittedly, once he saw you, that beautiful beam of sunshine, he had to have you — he wanted to keep you for himself, too. Your willingness to let him touch you made you all the more tempting, something to be coveted, worshiped. Lester would do it all for you if you’d let him.

Quietly, he obeyed your breathy command, ministrations becoming more vigorous. His fingers were erratic and choppy, sloppily sliding across your cunt with a fervor. You didn’t care, lulled into submission by the myriad of sensations, pleasure rippling throughout your stomach.

Your gaze occasionally flickered toward the outside of the truck, but your worry of getting caught was steadily subsiding. Lester’s calloused digits glided along your slit, moving up until they found that clutch of sensitive nerves buried between your thighs. His thumb sluggishly circled your clit, causing your hips to jolt forward.

“S’at feel nice?” His drawl had dropped into a husked purr, voice wrought with desperation. Lester liked having this level of control over you, but he enjoyed seeing your reactions even more. Embarrassment washed through you, knowing how insane this scenario seemed.

A sweet whimper tore past your lips, and you nodded your head, attempting to keep the gesture subtle. You wanted more, shifting your thighs together to relieve some tension until Lester prodded you with his knee. He began to rub at your clit, prompting you to press the back of your hand over your mouth.

Lester snickered, swatting your hand away. “Don’t keep those sounds from me, sugar. You’re jus’ so pretty like this.” He murmured, causing you to bite at your lower lip. Your thighs shook, cunt throbbing and oozing with liquid heat as he continued to touch you.

There was a thump against the front of the truck, nearly making you leap out of your own flesh, hastily covering your lap with your jean jacket. It was just Cody, huffing and puffing as Lester’s brother continued to try and pull the truck out of the mud.

“W—We should probably stop,” You whimpered, voice low and hushed, attempting to grab at his wrist, but Lester stopped you. “Lester, please.” The terror of being caught outweighed pleasure, but he shushed you, tugging you just a little closer, until you were nearly leg-to-leg in the cab.

“Jus’ keep quiet, sweetheart. They ain’t gonna catch us, swear.” He reassured you, coercing you into a more docile state — admittedly, he really wanted to make you cum on his fingers. Lester was hellbent to receive that from you, whether you protested or not.

As much as your mind screamed at you to stop, you wanted to keep going. You nodded, still keeping the jacket tucked within your lap, but Lester nudged it aside, wanting to watch everything. Your dress was all disheveled and ruffled around your hips, panties halfway down your thighs.

You began to squirm, hips jolting and spasming into the sensation of his hand, nails digging into the old, cracked leather of the truck’s frayed cushions. Your mind stopped worrying so much, submitting to basic desire and instinct, letting pleasure hold the reins as he flicked his thumb around your clit.

Honey-sweet arousal pooled between your legs, coating Lester’s digits in a fine sheen. You almost pleaded for him to come back when he withdrew his hand, watching with complete and utter shock as he licked his fingers, saturated in saliva. The noises he made were crass and somewhat lewd. “Taste jus’as good as y’look.” He murmured.

A molten wave of heat dropped right into the pit of your stomach, prompting you to whimper as his fingers hotly returned to your core. He was vigorous this time, using those spittle-slathered digits to invade your cunt, pushing two fingers inside of you as he began to piston them in and out. His rhythm was intense, and you nearly clamped your thighs together.

Your limbs felt heavy, weighed-down by the waves of ecstasy that consume you, as if dragging you down to the bottom of an ocean. You can barely distinguish what’s happening outside of the truck — you don’t care anymore, either.

This stranger fingerfucking you in his cab is all you can concentrate on.

Another soft, throaty moan escaped you, tearing past your parted lips as you rolled your hips sporadically, in-tandem with the motion of his fingers. They pushed inward, nearly knuckle-deep inside of your cunt before dragging out halfway, only to ram right back in. You sighed, pleasure scrawled all over your face.

Lester kept a watchful eye out, knowing that Bo would take his sweet time, damage your friend’s truck in the process. He was happy to have snatched you up when he did, gaze flickering toward you. Your body was contorted with delight, a glistening sheen of perspiration shimmering along your collarbone.

Tension crackled through the air, and you were none the wiser to Lester’s little plot to keep you. His thumb toyed and circled your clit, pouring fuel on the fire as your hips bucked forward again. “M’close,” You whimpered through the dizzying carnality, knuckles tense and tight as you clawed at the seat. “Oh, Lester! S—Shit, please don’t stop!” You squeaked.

He was enthralled, as if trained to obey your every wish. He didn’t slow down, keeping the same pace, fingers scissoring in and out of your weeping cunt. The thick scent of arousal hung heavy in the cab, intermingled with that of fresh earth and a coppery twang from the blood of roadkill, baking away in the back of the truck.

The thin straps of your pretty dress began to sag upon your shoulders, giving way to the faintest glimpse of your breast. If it weren’t for the oblivious audience outside of the truck, Lester would’ve been sucking on your chest. Instead, he settled for a brief peek of your heaving tits, and nothing more.

When the truck rattled, you barely paid it any mind — just your friends sagging against it. Lester snickered, opting to add a third finger, if it were a possibility. “Can y’handle another, sugar? Yer almost there.” He whispered, and when your friend began to step back towards the passenger door for shade, your eyes went as wide as saucers.

Again, Lester silenced your worry with the softest coos and gentle shushes, thumb working away at your clit as he attempted to wriggle a third digit inside of you. You were all wound up, chasing after your orgasm as you turned your face away, skin feverishly hot, as if you’d been scorched by the Louisiana sunshine.

As soon as Lester’s fingers rocked into your cunt for the umpteenth time, curling just slightly, you were gone — wasting away in a white-hot explosion. The tension within your stomach unfurled as you coated his digits in your slick nectar, huffing and puffing as you attempted to compose yourself.

“Lester, Lester,” The breathy, hushed way in which you whimpered his name made him want to devour you. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his fingers as he withdrew them, watching the tension unfurl from your body. You looked embarrassed and downright flustered, having made a mess of his seat. “M’sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lester cajoled, grinning a toothy, bemused smile as he began to lick his fingers clean. “Don’t gotta apologize none for that. Jus’ do it again sometime.” He teased, watching as you hastily covered your lap with your jean jacket when your friend thumped a hand against the window.

“Hey, we’re going up to this guy’s house. He said he has a tire that we can borrow, one on the truck is flat. Are you coming?” Josie asked, ogling Lester with skepticism and a high degree of disgust, too.

You gasped, heart pounding erratically in your chest. As you opened your mouth to answer, Lester interjected on your behalf.

“Yer friend here is goin’ through a bad wave of heatstroke. I’m gonna drive ‘er back t’my place an’ get her some water. It’s a cabin ‘long the path, you can’t miss it.” Lester confirmed, but Josie looked at you for an answer instead.

You nodded several times over, mustering up a smile after having experienced one of the best highs of your life. Pretending that you hadn’t let him touch you just moments ago made you feel strange. “I’ll be alright, Josie. You guys can meet me at his place once the truck is all fixed up.”

Josie nodded and reluctantly moved away from the window, joining Tate and Cody as the three of them followed Bo towards the tow truck. You were impervious and oblivious to the fact that this would be the last time you would ever see your friends alive.

Fortunately for Lester, he had other intentions.

He started the truck again, peering toward you with a twinkle in his eye — it wasn’t the same high-spirited, innocuous man you’d encountered at the gas station. This gleam was different — obsessive, possessive, and absolutely enamored with you.

“Why don’t we see what we can do about this heatstroke of yours, sugar?”

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x you #lester sinclair #house of wax #house of wax smut #house of wax fanfic #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #sunkendreams masterlist

[writinghotchner]

I know this is a weird request so please don't feel like you have to fill it lol. Hotch x Reader fic where Reader has a type of disability? Whether its like crippling depression/anxiety or something else, your choise! Something cute and fluffy preferably but that's also up to you!

no such thing as a "weird request" to me, i'm insane <3 and thank you for requesting!!

fandom: criminal minds pairing: hotch x fem!reader rating: E tags: depression, mentions of anxiety

you're on the couch wrapped in the thickest blanket you could find when you hear the front door open and close.

usually, you'd greet your boyfriend at the door, kiss him, ask him about his day, discuss dinner plans and all the usual adult things an adult couple does.

but today you can't make yourself move. that usual spark of joy that lightening strikes its way through your spine when you know he's home isn't there. the excitement to run to the front door to kiss him stupid like you would normally do isn't there. what's there, though, is the soul numbing feeling of absolutely nothingness. you don't feel sad, you don't feel happy, you quite literally feel numb- nothing. so you don't move.

if aaron notices, he doesn't say anything. instead, he makes his way over to you and leans over the back of the couch to kiss your blanket covered head. he doesn't say anything, and you surely don't say anything. you hear him shuffle by, assuming he's going to the bedroom to change out of his suit like he normally does.

a few minutes later, he reappears in black sweatpants and a basic plain white t-shirt. he sits at the end of the couch and lifts you feet onto his lap and gives them a little squeeze.

you've been together long enough for him to know that this is just something that happens. nothing necessarily triggers it, and he knows he didn't do anything wrong so he's not quick to jump on you and ask questions and plead to know how to "fix it". you're beyond thankful for that. you discussed how bad your depression can get when you first got together a few years ago and he completely understood. of course he did, after finding out everything this man had been through, of course he knows a thing or two about being depressed.

"have you eaten today?" you hear him ask, the blanket covering your entire head making it sound like he's underwater.

you want to answer him. you want him to know you aren't ignoring him and that it's not his fault, even if he knows and understands, the anxiety of it all makes it all crush your insides a little bit more.

one day he's going to get sick of this and leave.

after a beat, you unwrap the top half of yourself from your cocoon and stare up at the ceiling and then eventually look over at him. he flicks you a comforting smile as he presses his thumbs into the arches of your socked feet.

you shake your head 'no' at him and he nods his head. "are you hungry?"

you shrug, barely, but he sees it.

"okay," he says softly leaning up, resting his elbows on his thighs. "if i make us something, will you try to eat?"

you stare at him. he waits a second before adding, "you don't have to eat if you don't want to, but i'm going to make you a plate anyway, okay?"

you blink at him, and nod slightly. he gives your foot one last squeeze and gets up to head to the kitchen.

you turn your eyes back to the tv that's been playing in the living room this entire time. you aren't watching it, you truly have no idea what's even on, your eyes not focusing enough to process or care what it is. you barely even register that there's sound coming from it.

you're not sure how long it's been, but hotch comes back with two plates in his hands and sets them down on the coffee table. he sits down on the floor and scoots your plate over towards you. there's not much food on it. a couple pieces of steamed broccoli, a scoop of mashed potatoes and a pathetic excuse of a piece of meat. you stare at it, willing your brain to just let you move and want to eat it.

"it's not much, but it was the quickest thing i could throw together in the air fryer," he tells you. "well, the broccoli was steamed in the microwave...i cheated a little." he shoots you a cheesy grin that you barely catch out of the corner of your eye. "and the mashed potatoes are instant. don't tell anyone though."

it's funny how moments like this make you fall more in love with him. he knows you're hurting, would stop the world and do whatever it took to get the pain to stop, but he acts normal around you, keeping light conversation with you and not trying to get you to "cheer up" like most people would try to do.

you're still staring at the plate, an internal screaming match taking place inside the entirety of your brain when you realize he's still talking. you have no idea what he just said, but he's still got that goofy grin on his face as he shoves a piece of broccoli in his mouth.

something inside of you loosens, the vice grip lets go of your soul for a moment and you huff a small laugh at him.

"are you laughing at me or the fact that jj accidentally broke reid's nose?"

okay, wait a second. what?

"what?" you ask, your voice a little hoarse but full of complete amusement.

he laughs, a full toothy laugh that always makes your heart swell. "yeah," he finishes chewing and swallowing his food and turns to look more at you. "reid was trying to show her some new magic trick he'd just learned and, i'm not entirely sure how it happened, but it startled jj enough to where she accidentally elbowed his face. right in the nose."

you blink incredulously at him before you shift yourself up on your elbow. "is he okay?"

hotch nods. "yeah, he's fine. after the initial shock of it, they all started laughing."

the conversation tapers off and your eyes go back to the plate thats slowly getting cold. hotch is nearly done with his. he pats the floor next to him, "join me?"

and so you do. you really have to make your limbs work and it's such an energy draining task that just makes you angry because why in the world do you have to keep fighting with yourself to literally just...live. but, you shake that thought out of your head and melt yourself off the couch and land on the floor next to him; it makes him laugh again and that seems to help dissipate even more of the darkness leaching to your spine.

"want me to feed you?" you know he's joking, he wiggles his eyebrows at you as he says it, making airplane noises with his own fork as he wiggles it around the air to your mouth.

you actually laugh at that and the smile he gives you is so beautiful you nearly, actually cry.

"i love you." is all you say. you rest your head against his shoulder and slide your plate over in front of you and take a bite of the mashed potatoes. the first bite always kick starts your brain, making you realize just how hungry you are so you quickly scoop up another forkful and nearly shovel it in your mouth.

"i love you too, honey." he tells you and you turn a little to kiss his sleeved shoulder.

"it's because of the steamed broccoli, isn't it? that always gets the girls all wild for me."

the rest of whatever evil lurking inside you breaks and you snort laugh at him, throwing your head back onto the couch cushion.

#fic request #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner x you #hotch x reader #hotch x you #*mine #*reader

[ssahotchnerr]

Hii Katie!

Ok I have a request 🥺🙏🏼

You’re in a secret relationship with Hotch and you both work at the BAU. He notices the last case got you feeling down and these debating if he should show his soft side and comfort you or not until someone from the team goes “sir you’re not subtle. We all know go hug your girl”

AHH GRECY HI I LOVE THIS SO MUCHHHH

not so subtle

cw- your usual criminal minds case content, fem!reader, i guess some angst ??

-

the team trailed onto the jet, having just completed a case. easy conversations lingered amongst everyone, this case being not so different from any other- at least, to them. meanwhile, you silently made your way to your designated seat, feeling absolutely drained. 

to say this case had been rough on you was an understatement. the victims had all been insanely similar to you; hair and eye color, age, even similar body type. it was like you were seeing your face up on the board, that the profile was being given in relation to you. it didn’t help that during the takedown as well, the unsub had immediately latched his attention onto you; giving you the most bone chilling grin as he checked you out from head to toe, as if you were next on his list. you already knew the second you closed your eyes tonight, that’s exactly what you would see in your nightmares.

it also didn’t help that the comfort you desperately craved for the past week, you hadn’t gotten. more than anything, you just wanted aaron. the team wasn’t aware of your relationship just yet, so interactions with him were few and far between. 

you had felt his eyes on you from time to time, checking in on you, but he couldn’t necessarily do anything else. in addition, due to lack of hotel room availability, you hadn’t been able to sneak off to his room during the night- with you being paired with jj, dave with aaron. sure, you had seen him, spent almost every second of the day with him, but you hadn’t seen him. somehow, that made the longing and need for him- as your boyfriend- even more painful. 

as you settled into your seat, aaron gingerly sat at his. he almost occupied the available spot next to you, but hadn’t, which he was already regretting. he knew you were hurting, he knew he should be comforting you. and yet here he was, doing nothing about it. without another thought, he started to get up to move towards you, but again, stopped himself as dave sat across from him. instead, he grabbed a file, to hopefully play off his sudden movement.

dave slightly narrowed his eyes at aaron in suspicion as he sat, but he knew. he had noticed aaron’s eyes on you through the case’s entirety, aaron lifting a hand to place on the small of your back, but stopping himself midway. he had noticed you migrating towards aaron whenever you had a chance, wanting to say something but the words never making it past your lips. if he, along with the rest of the team, hadn’t already put the pieces together that the two of you were together, there was absolutely no denying it now. the two of you weren’t fooling anyone. and now, he was getting tired of waiting around for one of you to do something.

“aaron.”

“hm?” he didn’t look up from his file, making a play at being convincing. 

“just go.”

“sorry?” aaron finally lifted his eyes, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“you’re not very subtle. neither of you are.” dave gave him a knowing look, before he glanced in your direction. “we know, so stop being an idiot and go over there. she needs you, but i don’t need to tell you that, do i?”

aaron opened his mouth to respond, but with dave’s expression, he knew he was caught. 

so without another word, and ignoring dave’s cheeky expression, he finally got up and made his way towards you. as he approached, your eyes met his. they were sad, and aaron regretted not already making his way over to you sooner even more if it were possible.

“sir?” you questioned, not exactly sure where he was about to go with this.

“no.” he shook his head as he took the seat next to you, your face falling into one of confusion. “we’re not doing that right now.”

“what?” you asked. your voice was laced with surprise, but also relief. you could already feel part of the tension leaving your body.

he shook his head, opening his arms to you and ignoring the fact that the team were all watching. “c’mere, it’s been long enough. and i can’t stand seeing you upset for another minute.”

#no bc i love the bau!reader and aaron dynamic #aaron trying so so hard to not let his soft side show 🥺 #and dave is the ultimate wingman #can i title these?? i’m gonna title these #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner angst #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fanfiction

[buccini555]

𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞... - 𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

≡ Headcanons of how Kakucho (Bonten) would act if he fell in love with you

⌕ H e a d c a n o n s !

♡ 𝑭𝒕. Kakucho Hitto

Kakucho became more reserved over time, showing feelings was never his strong point, despite that, when he realized how in love he was with you, it was as if his feelings were vivid again.

Even though he had a life full of obligations, Kakucho would always find a way to see you or get in touch with you, treating you as a priority whenever he could, he would be affectionate and adorable, not even seeming to be part of a criminal organization.

He would buy you flowers, take you to romantic dinners in private places and please you in every way possible, Kakucho wouldn't mind demonstrating how romantic and gentleman he could be.

Whenever he saw you, Kakucho wouldn't hold back on the compliments, despite being mature and somewhat cold, his cheeks would still turn red every time their eyes met.

His eyes would show how in love he would be, Kakucho likes to watch you, seeing each of your details attentively left him amazed.

Kakucho would avoid any physical contact with you, just hugs or kisses on the cheek, even if you allowed intimacy between you, he wouldn't accept it, he would only do something if he found the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend/boyfriend.

He would take some time to declare himself, both because he was afraid of ending up being rejected and also thinking that you just deserved someone better.

The tallest would spend countless hours thinking about you, even if he was "working" he never stopped keeping his thoughts on you.

Kakucho is not the jealous type, despite this, he is totally protective, no matter what happens, you feel you would feel safe by his side, he would be strict with your safety and well-being, ending up always being haunted by the fear of you miss someday.

Every time you show love or are loving towards him in some way, no matter how much he wants to maintain the gangster pose, Kakucho simply can't, he remains with a silly smile and being as affectionate as possible.

Kakucho would always be as respectful as possible, he would be understanding and would do anything to make you happy, seeing you smile would always make him genuinely happy.

#He's my sweetheart iove him sm #kakucho tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers kakucho #kakucho icons #kakucho hitto #kakucho #kakuchohedcanons #kakuchohcs #kakuchohitto #kakucho headcanons #kakucho x reader #kakucho x you #kakucho x y/n #tokyo revengers #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev #tokyorevengersheadcanons #tokrev #tokyorev x reader #tokyorevengers #headcanons #tokyo rev hcs #tr kakucho #tokyo rev headcanons #bonten x reader #bonten x you #bonten headcanons #bonten tokyo revengers #bonten

[emeraldjoonie]

Spencer is the type of boyfriend that leave you a post it every morning, he'll write you quotes from his favourite books or something that he'll reminds him of you.

Part 2

#spencer reid x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #spencerreid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x yn #criminal minds #criminal minds headcanons #criminal minds type of boyfriend #spencer reid scenario #criminal minds scenarios

[tyblackthornsheadphones]

Hiya! Maybe some hurt and comfort fic with the moon boys after the reader got hurt in a street scuffle thing? :)

i reread this only once and yes, i did notice the inconsistent verb tenses but honestly i don’t have the energy to go back and change it. i tried to keep physical descriptions of the reader to a minimum so it should be gender neutral and any race. if not, please let me know so i can fix it.

i also kind of forgot the reader was supposed to be hurt and wrote it more emotional but i hope it’s fine anyway. (i’m so bad at following requests i’m so sorry)

if you wanna support me you can buy me a ko-fi.

the two men had come out of nowhere, forcing you into an alleyway under the dark cover of the night. your only comfort was the thought that your boys were watching the city for these exact types of people, maybe they would come save you. and if you managed to hold off the two men for just long enough, you could get out of this alive.

you weren’t a fighter. marc had taught you basic self-defence, but even so you wouldn’t have been able to take on two big, buff men with guns and eyes that spoke of deranged thoughts and lack of care for any life but their own.

the rest was a blur. a white caped hero throwing punches, a body jumping in front of your own, blood on the concrete and on gloved hands.

“let’s get you home, amor.”

jake was angry, you could hear it in his tone, but you were still frozen in fear from the encounter, your mind buzzing yet simultaneously unable to string together any coherent thoughts. so you didn’t respond, and he carried you home in his arms, jumping into the loft through the window you always kept open for him on nights like these, the one you’d forgotten to close before leaving.

you have a routine for when your boys come back from their duties as moonknight. the suit heals their wounds, but it doesn’t wash away the blood. you run a warm cloth over their skin until the blood and grime is all washed off, a slow repetitive process that gives their mind the time to deal with the violence they committed and store away the memories somewhere far back.

it’s easy to let your muscle memory take over.

“you don’t have to do that tonight,” jake says, “let us take care of you. we want to make sure you’re alright after that.”

you shake your head. there’s still a part of you that’s numb, and you don’t think you could put your feelings into words, you don’t think there’s any real way to voice the way you were convinced you were going to die, the way your brain flashed through everything you regret and your friends you haven’t seen in a while and the goals you’d never accomplish.

the suit falls away and it’s just your jake. not the hero of london or the fist of vengeance, just your worried boyfriend.

you clean his knuckles of the blood that always somehow manages to seep through the bandages that make up their suit. his body tenses, and when you look up, you meet marc’s eyes. his jaw is clenched in a way that you recognise, he wants to speak but doesn’t quite know how to say it, he’s worried talking about it might not be what you need right now.

“i’m sorry,” you say finally, “for going out. a friend needed my help and i thought i could walk back home after. i didn’t think…”

“not your fault,” marc replies, “we should’ve gotten them before they even had the chance to touch you.”

“it’s not your fault either, you know,” you put the dirty cloth down.

he shakes his head. there’s no point in having this argument, it’s the same every time. you argue that it’s impossible to save everyone, that london is a huge city and they’re just one body that can only accomplish so much. marc’s dumb guilty conscience convinces him that any person he can’t save in time is blood on his hands, not the fault of the criminals who committed the act, but his for not being able to save them.

you understand why, and the fights always come back to the same thing.

the last remnants of adrenaline are fading and your hands grow shaky. marc leads you to bed, but you know this is the part where he leaves, back into the headspace while one of the others (usually steven) hold you under the safety of the blankets. he likes to take care of you, to provide, but he still struggles to be soft.

“i was so scared,” you finally admit when the lights are turned off and the room is dark and the boys can’t see your face. it’s easier to admit when you don’t have to look into the eyes of the men who act as london’s protectors, constantly in dangerous situations. you don’t have to deal with the feelings of inferiority, like comparing yourself to marc’s strong and brave ex-wife who would surely have been able to defend herself.

you don’t even know which one is fronting. maybe they all are. when the tears start to fall, all you care about is the comforting familiarity of the strong arms around you and the scent of the men you love.

#rin’s writing #x reader #moonknight #moon knight #moonknight x reader #moon boys x reader #moon boys x you #moon boys x y/n #moon knight x you #moon knight x reader #moon knight x y/n #moon knight system x reader #moon knight system #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x y/n #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x y/n #steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x y/n #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #moon boys #moon knight fanfic

[writingduhh]

Jschlatt || “Shush, Go To Bed.”

Just a lil Drabble because I can’t sleep 😩

Type: Fluff

Pairing: Schlatt x Y/n

"Do you think pets know they're pets?" You ask, looking up at your boyfriend as you lay on his chest, the soft flicker of candlelight creating a warm ambiance.

"I don't think so..." Schlatt yawns, gently patting the top of your head.

Tonight was an unusually thought-provoking night, as your minds wandered from one question to the next. After a moment of silence, you couldn't help but pose another query.

"Who decided to milk a pregnant cow?"

"Uhm... I don't want to think about that," he says, making a disgusted face.

"Oh! I have another one! What if Bigfoot is just a really hairy outcasted man?"

"I don't know, y/n."

"If you were invited to the Met Gala, what would you wear?"

"Probably some clothes."

"Well, that's a stupid answer."

"But it's the truth; I would wear clothes."

"If you had to come up with a signature as a criminal, what would it be?”

"Okay, shush, that's enough; go to bed," he chuckles, playfully placing his hand over your mouth.

"Let's save this conversation for tomorrow."

"Hmm, fine," you grumble, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.

With the sound of his rhythmic breathing and the warmth of his arms around you it wasn’t long until you fell fast asleep.

#chuckle sandwich #chuckle sammy #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #jschlatt hcs #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt headcanons #schlatt x you #schlatt imagine #schlatt x reader #schlatt #ted nivison #hc

[sleepyhutcherson]

you’re home

masterlist

pairing: franklin fox x gn!reader

summary: where franklin, your boyfriend, surprises you with his return from a long work trip.

word count: 1.2k

tags: fluff, no use of y/n, clingy, touch starved, established relationship, petnames (love, babe, baby), just fluff literally.

author’s note: i adore this man. i need this man. he was such a cutie ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) seriously criminal how little content there is of him. expect more content of him from me tho. (also half asleep as i edited this, sorry for any spelling errors lmao)

You were a little bothered Franklin hadn’t called you, usually he would have called by now. He’s been out of town due to a work trip, it was sorted out last minute and with your work schedule you weren’t able to tag along with him. He would be gone for four weeks.

It’s been two weeks since he left, since then you’ve both clinged onto your phones eager to see each other through FaceTime or simply hear each other’s voices. You would text back and forth on a daily basis, meaningless conversation, just enjoying the mere words being exchanged.

You arrived from work an hour ago, you had just showered and were just starting on dinner. This was around the time Franklin called. You were feeling extra low today, missing your boyfriend a little more than usual. So you waited for him to call, anxiously stealing glances at your phone eager to pick up the phone the moment it rang.

A few minutes had passed, you were cutting up some vegetables, waiting…patiently. You try to discard the worries running through your mind, convincing yourself he was probably stuck at work. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little worried. It wasn’t like him. For the past two weeks he’s called at the same time every day. Maybe he was just tired today? No, you think, he would call anyway. He would, you know him. You were being dramatic probably so you forced yourself to focus on your hands as they prepared your meal, your eyes flickering towards your phone that you made sure to place with the screen facing up in case you for some reason missed the ringtone.

But nothing, even after 15 minutes.

You shoot him a quick message then asking if he arrived at his hotel he was staying at safely, keeping your chats opened up hoping you would at least see he was typing back. Yet nothing appeared. God, you were overreacting surely.

The sound of someone trying to open the front door of your flat startles you, your heart practically springs out of your chest. Before you can even react, the door opens, and Franklin steps inside with his suitcase. You’re heart races, more than happy to see him. There’s a cheeky grin on his face when he sees your reaction, his arms opening up the second he sees you making your way towards him. “Hey, baby,” he coos, wrapping his arms around your waist, kissing the side of your head, taking in your scent. He melts into your touch, the familiar scent of your shampoo comforting him.

“You’re home,” you breathe out, relieved to see him—to have him back. Your hands are behind his neck, inching slowly up to the back of his head, your fingers entwined with his hair.

Franklin buries his face in the crook of your neck, nestling up there, tickling you slightly. “I missed you,” he whispers, kissing the smooth skin on your neck. He feels so vulnerable right now, your bodies pressed up against each other, sweet words being exchanged between each other. He pulls you closer, barely any space left between the two of you, desperation and greed taking over. He kisses up to your jaw, soft kisses being left on your skin, whispering between each peck how much he missed you, how much he longed for you, how much he’s been waiting to see you: how happy he was to have you this close to him again.

“I missed you, too.” You say with honesty. Your hands play with his hair the way you knew he liked it, tilting your head back a little to give him more access to your neck. The way he kissed you now was different from before, the kisses he left behind were so pure and slow as if he was making sure to take his time. To really enjoy the moment. You loved it, honestly.

You try to withdraw from his grasp a little—only to get a better look at him—but his grip tightens on you, not enough to hurt you but enough to show you he doesn’t want you to let go just yet. “Don’t. Not yet.” you hear him muffle into your neck. He was practically clinging onto you, not wanting to be without your touch ever again.

One of your hands continuously plays with his hair, the other rubbing softly against his back in a comforting manner. “I was worried about you,” you say then, “you didn’t call or anything.”

Now he pulls away, “I know,” he cups your jaw now, locking his deep brown eyes with yours, you nearly melt at the mere glance. “I wanted to surprise you.”

You smile, “you wanted to surprise me?”

He nods, cheeks pink now. “I thought maybe you would want to see me.” Suddenly, he’s much more shy with his words.

Your hands rest against his waist, his breath catching when you start rubbing his clothed skin with your thumb. “Maybe I did,” you pull him closer to you, his hands on the sides of your face, thumb gently rubbing your cheek.

He raises a brow, a smile on his lips. “Ah, did you?” There’s a playful demeanour between the two of you, one that is so familiar to each other. One that you both missed. Your noses brush against each other’s for a brief moment, you let out a soft giggle and Franklin loses it there his lips pressing against yours, and you welcome his kiss immediately. The kiss is soft, your lips moving in sync, your hands trailing slowly above his waist and fuck does it make him weak, the way your hands feel on him.

When you pull away, your hands move up to cup his face. “I’m glad you’re home,” you whisper with a smile, his eyes boring into yours.

He presses a kiss against your cheek but he lets his lips linger there for a moment longer. He would love to stay like this forever, your hands cupping his face, the softness of your palms against his skin, his lips against your flushed cheeks. “I missed you so much,” he says, his words clear but muffled against you. Still, you don’t miss the way his words are chocked up.

You pull him back, your hands gently on his sides again, you knew he loved being touched like that. His eyes are slightly glossy with presumably tears but he isn’t sad, a huge smile is plastered on his lips, and he genuinely seems thrilled. He is happy, that’s the thing. He’s so happy to be in your grasp, to have your lips bestowed on him merely moments ago. “You’re here now, love.”

He presses his lips against yours briefly, just to feel them again. You chase after his lips, your hands moving to the back of his neck to pull him towards you, and you kiss him once more, deepening the kiss this time. You were both happy to be in each other’s presence again, happy to be touched by the other—to be held. Franklin was very obviously in love with you just as you were with him.

When you pull away, he smiles at you like a lovesick idiot, murmuring an “I love you” as he pulls you in to embrace you, wanting to endure your warmth, your scent—you, altogether.

taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @jhutch-bf @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @sofiehutch @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth

love you all xx ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

#franklin fox #franklin fox x reader #franklin fox fluff #franklin fox x you #franklin fox comfort #57 seconds #josh hutcherson fluff #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt comfort #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson smut #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt angst

[ddejavvu]

Hi Mei!!! I Hope you’re well 🧡

I’m just watching the first season of criminal minds for the first time, and I was on the episode where they go to Mexico. Elle’s ability to speak Spanish made me think of Aaron and reader where he just assumes reader can speak Spanish and tries to get her to interview witnesses but she’s like no babe I said I could get through a resort if we took a vacation!

Thank youuuuuuuu for sharing your writing with us 🧡

i also do not speak spanish so i did use google translate for the pet name that i put in at the end my apologies if it's awkward </3

--

Your brain has managed to tune out Elle's fluent Spanish conversation because you can't understand a word of it, but when the pair approaches you, you stiffen, throwing a kind smile at the woman beside her.

Elle says something to the woman, what you're not quite sure, because she's still speaking Spanish. But she looks expectantly at you, and you stare blankly back at her.

"Hello," You offer cautiously to the woman, wondering if she can manage an English interview, and maybe Elle needs to focus on those who can't, "Can I help you?"

"In Spanish," Elle prods, looking slightly inquisitive at you, "She doesn't speak English."

"I don't speak Spanish..." You shake your head ever-so-slightly, hands hanging limply at your sides.

She rears her head back, "You don't? Hotch said you do."

Your brows raise, "He did? I don't."

"Oh." She laughs lightly, and you assume the Spanish phrases that she offers to the woman beside her detail your predicament, because her words ease the nervous woman into relaxed laughter. Elle places a hand on her shoulder, bidding you goodbye, and resumes talking to the woman in Spanish.

You turn as soon as they leave you, eyes scanning the building you're stationed in for your boyfriend. He stands tall against the wall opposite you, filling officers in on the warning signs that they're looking for.

"-above all else, be vigilant. This person seems to know about our proceedings here, which means it could easily be someone in this room. Stay alert, and be careful who you trust."

With that bone-chilling warning, he dismisses the officers, and you feel bad for them when you see their paranoid glances to each other.

"Aaron," You step up to him once they disperse, "Did you tell Elle I could speak Spanish?"

"Yes I did," He nods, brows furrowing a fraction, "Did you not want me to?"

"Uh, well, I can't," You laugh, and he blinks blankly, "So, no, I'd have preferred for you not to tell her."

"Oh." He offers, "But I thought- When we were discussing our vacation plans..."

"I said I could survive a Spanish-speaking resort," You correct him, "Because anyone can download Duolingo. But I haven't yet, and I don't know an ounce of Spanish."

"Oh." He repeats, lighter this time as he chuckles sheepishly. He pulls you into an embrace, keeping it casual and quick as he bends down to kiss the grin off of your face. He backs away before he can give into his urge for more, but his hand stays clasped around your own, "Sorry. I didn't-" His shoulders shake with a chuckle as he glances at the floor, "I guess I should know that about you. I don't know why I assumed."

"It's okay, Aaron." You lean against his shoulder, "I'm not upset. But maybe we should download Duolingo."

"Maybe we should." He chuckles, "We'll do it in the car when we go for lunch."

"Deal," You nod, reluctant to let go of his hand even though you know you need to get back to work. Your eyes light with an idea, and you retrieve your phone, typing with the screen facing away from him while he watches, waits. Then you pocket it again, grinning devilishly at him, "See you then, mi amor."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenarip #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

[xmalereader]

Bruce Wayne X Male Reader

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|| Masterlist ||

-

Authors Note: The requests are finally coming in! I enjoyed writing this one out and tried my best to add as much demon facts as I could make up or find. I made sure that Bruce became a softie and tried to make readers and Bruce’s relationship sound special or romantic-ish? But either way. I hope you like it!

Request: I would like it to be by Bruce Wayne (the version you want) x male reader, where the reader is Bruce's boyfriend or fiancé but hides that he is a vampire or demon and that every night he goes out to consume blood or souls (if he is a demon) but that he only hurts criminals, and that during a patrol he meets batman (and if you want also one of the robins) and that they fight, but that during the fight the reader was seriously injured and that there bruce realizes that it is about her boyfriend/fiancé. || @apolo1808 ||

Warnings: Fluff, slight hints of angst, mentions of the bat family, language, Bruce is a softie, demon biology facts, chaotic friendships, mentions of marriage, Damien loves reader, platonic friendships.

Word count: 3.1K

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He was suppose to be in hiding, away from society and blending in with them instead of taking over them. He’s had family who were just like him, seeking havoc upon humans and torturing them for their pleasure. Not many of them were able to live with humans and found different ways to survive while others died off slowly due to the lack of souls that they consumed.

Y/n had been one of the few to survive, turning their hunger towards humans who, he thought, didn’t deserve a second chance after going after innocent people and getting them hurt. He’d only feed on criminals who lurked the dark streets of Gotham, brining fear into their eyes as they grew cautious of roaming the streets at night. Many would think that they fear the night due to Batman when in reality they feared the demon who lurked the streets, ready to strike anyone who crossed his path.

Y/n didn’t spend much time in the streets, learning how to survive on small amounts of souls and continuing on with his daily life with no issues. Their were nights that he felt guilty about keeping it hidden from his fiancé and family, afraid of what they would think of him if they were to know what he is. He was always waiting for the right time to tell Bruce about his abilities, but the right time went on for years to the point where he fell engaged to the great Bruce Wayne. He’d sometimes stare at the ring on his finger, feeling the guilt take over him as he continued to hesitate on telling Bruce the truth, knowing that the longer he drags this out the outcome could be worse.

He’d spent hours trying to figure out how to tell Bruce, not knowing how he’d react when he founds out that the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with is a demon who eats the souls of criminals. He’s known about Bruce’s identity of being Batman along with his kids too, which he didn’t mind. He knew that they were always safe and would come back home to him. But, the fact that his own future husband is Batman only made the situation even more complicated and continued to hold back on telling him anything.

During his own night routine he’d make sure to keep his face hidden, usually wearing all black in order to blend into the darkness as he hunted down criminals. He wanted to make sure that he wasn’t caught by any members of his family and so far he’s been smart enough not to get caught. He’d given himself a reputation that he was not proud of. Upon entering the cave he spots Bruce by his computer typing away while the rest of the boys did their own thing on the side. It took Y/n some time to warm up to the boys, when he first started dating Bruce he was nervous to know if they would like him not. He had gotten Dick’s and Jason’s approval in less than a few days, the two liking him at an instant.

Tim only took time since the poor kid was always busy with helping Bruce along with balancing his own schedule. He’d been around to force Tim to eat something healthy and drink anything else besides coffee to the point where he hid the coffee maker from Tim and told Alfred to keep him from leaving the house and buying any coffee. His relationship with Tim grew with the time they spent together, the two working together at Wayne enterprise.

The bond he struggled with the most was with Damien. He knew about his background and where he came from and for Bruce to openly accept his son into their home meant a lot to him. Their relationship was rocky at first as Damien ignored Y/n’s attempts at getting along with him. There were times where Damien would snap at him because he was ‘trying’ too hard or that he shouldn’t force a relationship.

Y/n didn’t give up. He continued to approach Damien even if the young kid grew annoyed he was always going to be there. Some could say that Y/n was often present in Damien’s life than Bruce, not that he was a bad father. Bruce was a wonderful man but he had his own flaws. It took months before Damien finally claimed him as family, growing protective over Bruce’s partner and always joining the man on errands. Everyone know that their bond was stronger than the others, but Y/n still loved everyone equally.

Which is why he struggled in the last few days with saying anything about his abilities. Pushing back on them as he provided fake smiles and reassurance. Spending his night hiding in alleyways as he waited for his prey, keeping himself hidden in the dark. He was doing fine for a few days without consuming souls, acting normal and doing his daily routine until he felt an emptiness in his stomach.

The sudden hunger was reaching its peak to the point where he’d have to head out and find a few souls he could consume in order to live for the next few days. He had planned to escape the manor tonight but, his plans were quickly cancelled by Bruce taking him and the kids to watch a movie together. Y/n had brushed off the hunger and joined his family.

He brushed the hunger away longer than a few days, going over his limit. His side affects were showing and it was becoming harder to hide each day: First, his throat felt dry. No amount of water could wash it away, next was his fatigue. He was growing tired to the point where he’d zone out during mid conversation whenever he spoke to Bruce or one of the boys. His third were his eyes, no longer their natural color but turning completely black. Once he reached that last phase he knew that he had to go search for a few souls he can consume.

Y/n spent his day packing up a small bag, clothes being shoved inside as he wore sunglasses indoors. It wasn’t until Bruce passed by their room, looking inside to see him packing his things. “Where you going?” Bruce asks while Y/n looks up and smiles. “I’m staying over at Susan’s place.”

Bruce paled, swallowing nervously as he steps inside the room. Bruce knew that whenever Y/n stayed at Susan’s it was because he did something wrong or wanted time away from his family. “Did I do something?” He asks nervously, watching his fiancé zip up his bag. Y/n tilts his head in confusion until realization hit him. “Oh! No, It’s nothing like that.” He approached him. “Susan has this friend who’s getting married and she was chosen as the maid of honor and was placed in charge of a few things. I’m going over to stay with her and help her out with organize everything since she’s terrible.” He chuckled out. “It’ll just be for tonight.”

Bruce sighs in relief, afraid that he’d done something wrong to upset him. “Sorry, I thought I did something due to being busy constantly.”

“It’s alright everything is fine, Bruce. I’m just gonna help Susan.” He takes his bag in hand and sighs softly, leaning forward to press his lips against his cheek before pulling away. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” He gives Bruce a small wave and leaves the bedroom, rushing down the hall and eager to leave the manor. His statement wasn’t a total lie, his friend Susan of a few years did need his help and he needed hers. He only had a few hours before night fall, giving him enough time to ride his own motorcycle to Susan’s place, her apartments located deeper into Gotham as he rode his way down the busy streets.

Upon arriving to Susan’s apartment he’s able to park his motorcycle inside the garage, collecting his bag and quickly rushing inside. He dodged neighbors using the stairs, giving them an apologetic smile before skipping steps as he runs to the fourth floor. He gives Susan’s apartment door a few knocks until she swings the door open, her hair all messy while she wore her reading glasses. “Thank god!” She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a bone crushing hug. “I’m gonna die.” She mumbled out.

“What—why?”

She whines. “I can’t do this wedding stuff, it’s too much work and I don’t even have a dress yet!”

Y/n rolls his eyes and gentle carried her inside, kicking the door closed behind him and sets her down. “Susan, you were picked to do this because your friend knew you could do it.”

“Not this kind of wedding!” Susan throws her arms up, turning around and walking to her living room. “This is some fancy shit.” She looks up from her work, glaring at him from under her glasses. “You’re isn’t going to be this big and chaotic is it?”

Y/n shrugs. “I told Bruce that I didn’t want anything too big. A simple ceremony, probably private.” He sets his bag down, joining her by the coffee table and sitting across from her. “Yeah, we’ll it better not or else I’m not going.” She began to gather all of her things, stacking up papers and setting them aside in order to give each other some space to down their own work. While she cleaned, Y/n had slowly removed his sunglasses revealing his black eyes.

Susan’s hand froze, eyes wide as she takes notice of his eyes. “Shit, When was the last time you ate?”

“Three weeks ago…” He mumbled.

“Three weeks?!” She shouts, causing him to flinch. “I told you the minimum of not eating is four days not three weeks! You can get yourself killed or let alone hurt.” She stood up from her spot on the floor, walking around the room angrily while also giving him a lecture. Susan had been friends with Y/n for years, knowing about his abilities and helping him with collecting souls. She was his main guide and the only person he trusted with his dark secret.

Y/n watched her as she takes out a small box from her book case, setting it down on the coffee table and sitting back down. “Can’t believe you’d do this—do you know how dangerous this is? You can die!” She groans, flipping the box open and taking out a few pictures with post it notes attached to them. “You’re lucky I found a few guys for you.” The photos contained images of criminals that roamed the streets freely; allowed to do anything.

Susan had easy access to these criminals due to her working as Gordon's assistant. She had access to many criminals files and knew who walked freely and their criminal records. She kept a collection of the criminals, later providing them to Y/n as his next targets. “Here.” She slips him five pictures.

“Five? It’s usually three.”

“Three if your on track, five since you went over a few days.” She glared, closing the box in her hand setting it aside. “These five are close to the area, take your time on consuming the souls and try not to get caught.” Y/n shakes his head. “I won’t.” He slips the pictures in his pocket and gives her a small smile. “Do you have my outfit?” He asks in a soft tone, trying to lighten up her mood but continued to glare, eyes narrowed at the demon before her.

“Yes.” She points to her bedroom behind her. “It’s in my closet, furthest in the back you’ll find it.”

Y/n scrambled to a stand and rushed to her bedroom where he collects his outfit that he used at night. All black along with a face mask that covered his face. It helped him stay hidden and was easy to move around whenever he was running or having to climb over things. He’d look out the window and see the sun setting, signaling that it was time for him to feed as he changed into his outfit, tying his boots and slipping on the mask. Once stepping out of Susan’s bedroom he smiles under his mask.

“Now remember,” Susan started. “Don’t get caught and if you do—you know nothing about me.”

Y/n chuckles. “I know.”

“Go kill someone.” She sighs out, earning an eye roll as he takes her balcony, climbing up the rooftops, giving him enough space and access to see his surroundings. He’s running on the roofs and jumping over them, checking the alleyways and empty streets for any signs of his targets. He’d check the post it notes every once an while, giving him an idea of where they could be located or doing at late hours. It only took him thirty minutes to find his first target, launching himself on the man and pinning him on the ground while he thrashed and shouted.

He’s quick on his work, usually keeping it clean but today he was starving and didn’t care about the mess he caused. After watching the life die from the man’s eyes he’s quick to throw the limp body aside, licking his lips under his mask and moving onto his next target. His strength was slowing coming back after he consumed soul after soul, chasing after his prey as he watched then beg for mercy, knowing damn well that they didn’t deserve it after what they did.

Y/n was down to his last soul of the night, holding the picture on hand as he reads Susan’s notes, standing over the edge of a roof before sighing deeply and slipping the picture in his pocket. “One more and then we can go gone.” He whispers to himself, preparing himself to jump off the building only to be pulled away from the edge by the collar of his shirt.

“What—!”

He falls back on his back and groans in pain, looking up to see Nightwing. His eyes widen in realization as he watched him. “You trying to mill yourself or what?” Dick turns to look at him only for his own eyes to widen. “Wait, you’re that killer that everyone talks about.” He points a finger at him, causing Y/n to shrink in shame. Before he could reason with him or say anything he’s startled by Jason who stood behind him. His back bumping against his chest and turns around to face his masked helmet.

“This the one that’s been killing people?” Jason questions, giving small steps forward while Y/n took a step back. He’s corned by the two, swallowing nervously as he adverts his eyes away from the two. “Think B will want to do something?” Said Jason, placing a hand on his hip and cocking his head to the side. “We should probably let him know.”

Y/n’s eyes widen at the mention of Bruce. He couldn’t let him know, not like this. Without thinking he reacts quickly, shoving between the two as he makes a run for it. He can hear the two shouting and running after him while he makes his way around the roofs, jumping onto the next building and stumbling in his step. With the last four souls he consumed he feels fueled up and has the strength to run and perhaps fight back if it comes to that conclusion. He can hear their footsteps behind him, taking a sharp turn towards another building and quickly taking cover behind a wall.

He remains quiet and listens as the boys run past him, shouting at each other that they couldn’t see him anymore and had lost sight of him. Y/n moves quietly and glanced towards the direction they ran off too, sighing in relief and turning the other way to head back to Susan’s place only to yelp in pain when a sharp pain is felt on his arm. His hand goes over the open wound and faces Damien.

His little Robin staring at him with narrowed eyes as he holds his katana in both hands. “I wouldn’t try to run if I were you.” He warns, voice full of venom. “I saw what you did to those men—now, what the hell are you?” He raised his sword, watching closely as Y/n clutched his arm close, wincing from the pain. “I—“ His throat is dry, licking his lips under his mask and watching Damien.

“Talk!” Damien shouts the tip of his sword pointed at him as he steps closer, causing Y/n to shift backwards. Damien takes his movement as a sign of ‘running away’ making him swing his sword at him. Y/n is quick on his feet and dodges the blade, cursing under his breath and wincing at the pain before mumbling a small apology to Damian. He swings his leg at Damien, hitting the kid in the ribs and causing him to stumble back. That only angered him. Y/n doesn’t wish to hurt Damien nor does he want to cause him any harm but his simple kick only riled the kid up.

“Shit.”

Damien runs at him.

Y/n doesn’t think, reaching for his mask and yanking it off. “It’s me! It’s me! Stop!” Damien halts the tip of his katana pressing up against his throat, not hard enough to cut him. Upon revealing his face he takes notice of Damiens posture stiffen. “Y/n?” The realization hitting him as he lowers his sword.

“That’s enough.”

Bruce’s voice startles the two, Damien turning around to face his father. “Da—Batman I didn’t—“

“I know.” Bruce reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder, giving him a soft look before his eyes avert to Y/n who stood a few feet away from him. His hand still covering his injury, face covered in sweat and his hair sticking to his forehead. He didn’t know what to say or do now that Bruce knew and instead decided to wait until he made the first move. Bruce steps forward, approaching Y/n as his anxiety heightens and lowers his head in shame.

“I can explain.” He’s quick to say, expecting Bruce to integrate him like he did to all of the criminals that he dealt with each night. Instead, the man wraps his arms around him and pulls him close into a tight embrace, startling and confusing Y/n. “Bruce?” He whispers against his neck.

“Your injured, let’s talk back at home.” Is all he says before he’s picking him up bridal style and taking him with him. He’s shocked by the situation and looks over his shoulder to see his boys watching in disbelief and shock. He can see the look of anguish on Damien’s face, frowning to himself and he looks away from his boys. The trip back to the cave is quiet between him and Bruce the tension growing as they got closer to home. Y/n stared out the window from the Batmobile the whole way back until they arrived.

He clears his throat nervously and stumbled out, grunting in pain from the bruises and injury that he’d gotten from Damien. He tries his best to ignore but, Bruce takes notice of it and calls out to him. “You’re injured.”

“I’ll manage.” Y/n gives off a small chuckle, waving it off but Bruce doesn’t fall for it. He drags him to the nearest medical table and forced him to sit down, removing his cowl and gloves and searches for the medical kit. “Shirt. Take it off.” Bruce orders his back facing Y/n as he gives off a small nod, sighing to himself and trying his best to slip off the shirt before Bruce turned back around to focus on his injured arm. He’s quiet when stitching him up, focused on his task. It doesn’t take long for Y/n to cut the tension between them. “I’m guessing you want that ring back?” He mumbled out softly, giving Bruce a glance.

Bruce stood mid stitch, raising a brow at him and asks. “Why?”

“Why? I mean, you all saw what I did—what I do and I figured you would be islet and probably want the engagement ring back.” Y/n nervously fiddled with the discarded shirt that lied by his side, trying to keep his focus on something else. “I saw what you did, but you haven’t explained to me why.” Bruce suddenly says, finishing up the stitches and wrapping his arm.

Bruce turns to him and sighs to himself, reaching up to get his attention by turning his head towards him by the chin, fingers gripping his jaw softly. “I want the truth.” His voice is stern.

Y/n sighs. “Okay.” He whispers. “I was consuming souls. Souls that I need in order to survive and to keep myself healthy or else I can lose control of my hunger.” He began to explain. “I’m a Demon. One that he’s lived for many years, I’ve seen things that no one else has and have met many different people throughout my life. I just didn’t expect myself to settle down.” Sadness and regret fill his eyes, gently brushing Bruce’s hand away from his jaw. “I wanted to tell you but I was afraid of how you’d react and what you would do if you saw me doing that.” He refers to the soul eating.

“I didn’t want to make you or the kids and—“ his breath hitched, eyes growing wet as he tries to hold back to tears that threaten to spill. “I’m sorry, I should have told you before things got serious between us.”

“You were trying to survive.” Bruce’s voice is soft. “You know I don’t agree with what you did but, I can’t stop you from trying to live. It’s the way you can continue living with us, with me.” His fingers brush up against his cheek, leaning down to press their foreheads together. “I’d still marry you whether you’re a demon or not.” Y/n sniffles, leaning into his soft touch. “You are loved.” Bruce added before placing a soft kiss on his temple, holding him close.

“I still love you too.” Y/n whispers in return. The two holding each other close. Bruce is the first to pull away and sigh in relief. “You’ll have to explain to the others, especially to Damien after he,” He nods down at his wrapped up arm. “You know. Damien cares for you.”

Y/n nods. “He probably feels awful, poor kid.” He thinks about Damien and how awfully he must feel after knowing that the man he attacked was the same man who cared for him and claimed him as his son. “I’ll make sure he’s okay.” He reassured Bruce, stealing a kiss from him as the two smile at each other. That same night Y/n explains to the boys about his past and what he is, he also reassures Damien and tells him that his wound will heal fast. Damien decided to sleep with Y/n every night as an apology for his actions, clinging to his other parent every night while Bruce huffed in annoyance since he was forced to take the couch due to him not fitting.

#male reader #Bruce Wayne #Bruce Wayne x male reader #Batman x male reader #Batman #au #bat family #bat family x male reader #Damien Wayne #dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Tim drake #robins

[chiquititaosita]

Mami Mira

pairing: sanji x reader

post type: one shot (song fic)

contents: smut,established relationship, sanji falling in love with you even more, alcoholism, jealousy, suggestive, fluff, latina reader in mind, but this can be applied to all ethinicties song fan fic

summary: sanji is at a club at one of the local islands the sunny had docked, you both go and have fun, and here he is just admiring you dancing, that is until someone pulls you aside, and your man gets jealous, he takes matters into his own hands.

alexa play mami mira by mr capone-e, mr.criminal ,nate dogg

It’s around 9:30 p.m., almost ten on a Friday night. You all needed a break. It was decided by the captain to go out and dance. There you are getting ready, wearing a black y2k top, blue flare pants with rinestones that enhances your features and wearing your hair in a half-up, half-down style. Of course, your makeup looks amazing. shoes that were comfortable yet looking like a rare treasure.

You walked out of your quarters, exiting the hallway out of the girls' quarters, heading out on the main deck of the sunny. here you see your tall handsome blonde boyfriend ‘flying’ towards you “y/n chwan!!!!!!!!” you could hear the admiration in his voice as he’s admiring his beautiful meroline. “hi amor,” you smiled with a slight blush appearing on you complexion. he asked you to twirl before giving you a kiss on the cheek. there he just kept hyping you up and admiring how such of a ethereal being you are.

“you look so beautiful, as always.” he kisses the top of your head, holding your hands. y’all were visiting for a few moments until you heard a cough, from a certain red head. “ahem, I hope to not interrupt you love birds but we have a party to get to!” Nami walked out of the ship onto the dock, wearing a green backless cut out crisscross halter top and body con skirt. she wore some strapped heel pumps that had more of a grip rather than a normal heel.

“right sorry about that.” you laughed lightly walking out holding sanjis hand. “my darling…shall we ?” you nodded looking into his eyes as he loosened his tie just a teeny bit, walking with him “we shall.”

you wanna hang with big dogg and criminal, it’s in your eyes don’t give us love.

The club that luffy said y’all were supposed to be at was supposed to have big lights, and everything. you just hoped they had good music to dance to. you planned to not drink as much. mostly because the smell of alcohol is a bit overwhelming.

you saw the lights changed from different colors. Red to blue, blue to white. White to pink, pink to orange. it wasn’t at a fast speed, more at a slow pace. you felt relaxed, as your blonde boyfriend lightly traced circles on your skin. y’all were sitting down in a table where everyone in the crew placed their stuff.

The both of y’all had been a bit distant lately, due to the fact he’s been working a lot more, than fighting the marines out of nowhere. y’all haven’t spent anytime together recently. you just hoped you two will have a good time and for things to settle down.

“My love are you alright??” he whispered into your ear, when the music started getting a little bit loud. You shrugged. “Somewhat, im a bit thirsty.” You replied back to him with a slight blush kissing his lips, you were just a little tipsy. Not as tipsy as if you passed your limit. tipsy to the point where you still are aware of your surroundings. “I’ll go get you some water at the bar, let me know if you’re gonna be leaving the table.” He smiled and kissed your lips once more “I will I love you.” Just as you were about to say it. He left faster than the speed of light.

It's in your eyes you wanna give us some.

“Y/n! what are you doing sitting here all alone come dance with us! they’re gonna play our song.” you hear nami and robin walk towards you, as you were a bit slumped. “you barely get to have fun with us girls you know y/n chan.” Robin pat your head. you sighed as you got up from your seat. “Alright let me go find sanji and tell him.” You heard nami and robin whooop and cheer as they took a few more shots. you couldn’t help it THEYRE your best friends, your home girls.

They were so relived that you and sanji got together it was so adorable because they were like ‘PLEASE TAKE HIM! We’ve been suffering for so long!’ there you saw your boyfriend talking to another person, you suppose they were the bartender. “Sanji!” you yelled his name! he heard to the melodic voice of yours. His dark eyes saw you, gesturing to go with nami and robin and he mouthed “I love you! I’ll be there soon!” he blew a kiss at your direction as you rolled your eyes taking the kiss placing it to your chest.

Walking to the direction of nami and robin. there you robin and nami are dancing, you were just so content, relaxed. In all honesty you just missed him. He’s not dumb, he’s actually very observant.

he scanned to find you as he adjusted himself, there he saw you. He sees you moving your hips grinding on your best friends, shaking ass looking like a baddie as usual. He’s blushing madly than ever. That is until he feels something hard between his thighs. How he wants to take you in his arms. have you scratching his back, as he thrusts into you. it’s true he does miss you, he can’t help but blame himself for not spending enough of time with you. so there he goes in this thoughts.

That is until one particular person, tapped you on your shoulder. he had a dickies shirt on, some nice pants on, with a white tank top underneath and a chain on. he asked you if you wanted to dance with him, you were looking at your curly brow novio.

the male figure looked at your boyfriend, then at you. sanji looks at him, and groans in frustration now that he’s soft. he got out of his seat, taking out his cigarette putting it out on the ash tray on the table. walking behind you biting his bottom lip.

mami mira.

Sanji tapped behind your shoulder, hugging your waist stroking your hips up and down, glared at the male figure “thank you for keeping my lovely lady company, but her prince is here now.” he gave a deadly glare to the male, as he walked off. you sighed in relief looking at him, walking with him to the table, to sit down. you being the girl you are decided to sit on his lap.

you’re such a fine and such a sexy mamacita

“my hero.” you turned around as you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him while you’re sitting on his lap. as he pulls you close to him. “i haven’t been feeling like one..” he talks to you as he rubs his smooth, and structured hands behind your back, and hips to keep you from not falling.”

Been on my mind girl since the first time that I seen ya'

“por que? talk to me.” you smile at him, there you go again, you look at him with those beautiful eyes that have a hint of sparkle inside. he can’t help but to feel guilty for not protecting his princess. not even spending time with his princess. the maiden he wants to wake up from an eternal slumber. Your eyes was one of the first things he noticed

“I feel bad for not spending enough time with you, Mon amour.”

“Seeing that guy trying to make a move on you made me sick to my stomach.” He puffed out his cigarette, and looked back at you. “and i don’t even get sick.”

“I guess I just feel bad because. I’m so used to being around you all the time and I’m afraid you’ll leave me .” you sigh and kiss him lightly on his lips. letting go as y’all touch foreheads.

if you were my girl I would never ever leave ya, señorita

“Don’t feel bad, it happens sometimes life gets hectic and we have to do what we gotta do. I’m just happy i have you as my boyfriend/future husband/father of our kids, so what is there to lose. And who the fuck even said I’m ever leaving?” His eyes water at the fact that you’re being so understanding with him, no seriously protect this man at all cost. because he’s not used to having much compassion since his sister helped him. You wipe his tears, and kiss where they once where as a blush appears on his cheeks once more.

“I love you sanji .”

“I love you too y/n, I’m sorry ”

You hug him and press your lips against his with passion and admiration.he even deepened the kiss, knowing it’s happening, it’s reality. As he slightly moaned into your mouth.

something about you mami

“Don’t be sorry, remember we have a long time, and you’re not going anywhere because you’re mine .” as he fell to the side of the booth chair lying down laughing as he’s ticklish when you kiss him in certain places. You get off of him and grab his hand.

I'm feeling you girl can't you see that look in my eye?

“Come dance with me, the songs almost over!” He starts running with you as you’re shaking your ass on his crotch. mans is grabbing your waist. his eyes are heart shaped, and his nose is slightly bleeding. He’ll spin you a little bit to bring you closer to him, as he grabs your hands, sucks into your neck. “forgive me my dearest y/n i have to mark whats mine.” he continues, as he hears you let out a gasp parting your mouths

something about you mami

Sanji grabs the bottom to the top of one of your breasts as he begins to grind on your ass a little bit. The sensuality and the tension is rising in the depths of your bodies. he begins to let out a shaky breath as he starts to feel his cock slightly harden once again, almost feeling like a long balloon waiting to be popped. like a long rubber band. sanjis muscular yet slender hands are tracing under your skirt already slowly dry humping onto you, having a slow pace. “Let’s take this back home Mon amour.” He whispered huskily in your ear, as you nodded. walking back to the sunny, y’all went back into your bedroom, as he kept kissing you, mumbling praises.

“Your body looks so divine..” sanji had began to ‘throw’ you onto the bed with silk beige sheets, feeling it hugging your body, you’re looking up at sanji as he loosens his tie, rolling his sleeves. God the way your punani was already about to be soaking wet, it’s very high right now. Sanji had already taken your pants off. He smelt the scents of your pants,

“Already wet for me y/n-chan…you’re good for me..don’t worry I’ll wash these..I love these on you,” he speaks in a lower tone, as his breath is gazing at your undies, watching how soaked you are. he kissed those lips down there with the clothed cunt still wet, dripping. he starts by playfully licking the nub of your clit, as he slowly began to gently yank off your soaked panties, hoist your thighs and straddle them around his neck.

“sanji….f-fuck….” You started to mewl, and cover your mouth as he began to look up at you taking your hands and placing them on his scalp. “Grab. Me.. I want to hear you..” your breath was sl

“Awe is something wrong mami???”

'n-no sir.."

"good, wouldn't want you to feel pain now would we mon ange." sanji pushed you back again hoisting your thighs together with his muscular arms and lean build. licking your labia majora, as he moans into your soft plushy cunt, he begins to add one or two fingers to thrust inside, starting off slow when his member is slowly erecting again.

taglist: @euphofic @noawithlove @luffyinlove @roronoaswifey @kazushawty @zarihaaa @honeybleed @backwzzds @sanjis-all-blue @sanjisblackasswife @downforsanji @honeybleed @angelktski @ecstasysdomain @ginger4sugar @babydaddyleorio @br4tphobia @cottonconnielvr @cookiepie111 @etherealxmaya @killxio @roronoacherries

#sanji smut #osita’s sanji ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🕊️꒱ #one piece ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐄 ꒱ #˗ˏˋ꒰ 🫶🏼 ꒱ ositas one piece master list #sanji x reader fluff #sanji x latina reader #ੈ♡˳ one piece x latina reader #sanji x fem reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader