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thewulf · 24 days

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Bulletproof Bonds || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: Request - Maybe a husband!Aaron x Long Time BAU!wife and how there’s a new member to the BAU and she keeps trying to flirt with Aaron but he keeps turning her down🥲 but the new member doesn’t know that Aaron and reader are married, and new member just thinks of reader as competition to get with Aaron, eventually leading to reader getting really mad cause new member does something really stupid on a case that leads to reader almost getting seriously injured??... Read Rest Here

A/N: Really loved writing this one. Hope you all enjoy! Thank you for the request @viscade !

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader,

Word Count: 3.1k

TW: Yelling, gunshot (non wounded)

In the bustling chaos of the BAU bullpen, Aaron Hotchner sat at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sifted through the multitude of case files scattered before him. A usual sight for the unit chief. The harsh fluorescent lights cast stark shadows across his features, accentuating the lines of exhaustion etched into his face by years of chasing monsters in the dark.

You sat by his side, a silent sentinel amidst the whirlwind of activity. Your own workspace dedicated beside him cluttered with documents and crime scene photos. The faint aroma of stale coffee hung in the air as you both delved into the intricate web of clues left behind by the latest serial killer to plague the streets. It was always so easy with him, your husband. The way the two of you were able to bounce ideas off each other was like none seen before.

The tension in the room was palpable, a heavy weight pressing down on everyone present as they grappled with the enormity of the task at hand. Each unsolved case seemed to loom over them like a specter, a constant reminder of the lives lost and the justice yet to be served. Amidst all the usual chaos, Agent Sarah Miller made her presence known. Her arrival heralded by the soft click of her heels against the linoleum floor. She moved with a confidence that bordered on arrogance, her youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the world-weary countenances of her colleagues. She had no idea what she was getting herself into.

Sarah's eyes lingered on Aaron as she sauntered past his open aired desk, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips. She was young, ambitious, and hungry for success. Her gaze fixed on the formidable figure of the BAU's leader like a moth drawn to a flame.

Despite Aaron's cold indifference, she persisted in her attempts at flirtation, undeterred by his lack of response. Her tactics were shamelessly transparent, her words dripping with false sweetness as she sought to capture his attention. Agent Sarah Miller yet again walked past Aaron's desk, her gaze lingering on him for a moment too long before she turned her attention to you. There was a subtle flicker of annoyance in her eyes as she took in your presence, her lips curling into a barely concealed sneer.

"Hey, Hotch," she purred, leaning against the edge of his desk with practiced ease. "You must be tired of staring at all those files. Why don't you take a break and grab a coffee with me?" Her eyes kept looking back to you in brief flashes to gauge your reaction. You decided early on after her brazen attempts that you would give her none. A layer of disgust masked on top of the doe eyes she was attempting to give your husband was meant for you. She was very forward, you had to give her that one.

Aaron's response was polite but firm, his tone devoid of any warmth. "I'm sorry, Agent Miller, but I have work to do," he replied, his eyes never leaving the papers in front of him.

Undeterred, Sarah flashed him a flirtatious smile, her gaze lingering on him expectantly. "Maybe some other time, then," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness before she finally strolled away.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at her blatant display of interest, the subtle scoff escaping your lips as you returned your focus to the files sprawled across your desk. "Some profiler she is," you muttered under your breath, the sarcasm dripping from your words like venom. It was a small act of defiance, a way to vent the frustration bubbling just beneath the surface as you watched Sarah's failed attempts at seduction.

Your comment earned a small smirk from Aaron, his lips quirking up in amusement as he glanced up from his work. His eyes met yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you, a shared understanding of the absurdity of the situation. In that fleeting moment, you found solace in the unspoken reassurance that he was not blind to Sarah's antics, nor was he unaffected by them.

As the tension in the room continued to get heavier, you exchanged a knowing glance with Aaron, the unspoken bond between you speaking volumes. It was a silent reminder of the unbreakable connection that bound you together, a tether grounding you amidst the disarray swirling around you. In that moment, you drew strength from the knowledge that no amount of flirtation from the new agent could ever hope to rival the deep-seated love and loyalty that defined your marriage.

But beneath the surface, resentment simmered, fueled by the blatant disrespect for the boundaries of your marriage. Each lingering glance, each flirtatious comment served as a reminder of the fragile line Sarah was treading, unaware of the storm brewing beneath the calm facade. Yet, as frustrating as her antics were, you knew that the true test of your marriage lay not in her misguided advances but in the unwavering trust and devotion you shared with Aaron. A bond that would withstand any challenge thrown your way.

You had to give the girl credit. She certainly didn’t stop. It was not even an hour later that the girl came crawling right back to him. In the dimly lit bullpen of the BAU, the seasoned agents huddled together, their eyes darting furtively around the room as they exchanged knowing glances. Reid, Garcia, Morgan, and Prentiss stood in a tight circle. Their voices hushed as they leaned in conspiratorially.

"So, who's going to crack first?" Garcia whispered, her eyes sparkling mischievously behind her glasses.

Prentiss smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "My money's on Y/N. She's got that poker face down pat."

Reid nodded in agreement, adjusting his glasses. "And she's got a wicked sense of humor. I don't think she's sweating it."

Just then, Morgan, ever the observant one, interjected with a grin. "You know what, I'm with both of you on this one. Y/N's handling this like a pro. She's probably just waiting for the perfect moment to drop a witty comeback."

The others turned to look at you, noticing your bemused expression as you observed the scene unfolding with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. The new agent, eager to impress, leaned in a little too close to Hotch, her voice dropping to a suggestive whisper. "So, Hotch, any plans for dinner tonight?"

Hotch glanced up from his paperwork, his expression remaining impassive. "Just finishing up some reports, Agent. Nothing planned."

Undeterred, the new agent persisted, fluttering her eyelashes coyly. "Well, if you change your mind, I know this great Italian place down the street."

Hotch merely nodded, returning his attention to the file in front of him. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you, Agent."

Behind his back, the BAU members couldn't contain their laughter, stifling their giggles as they watched the new agent's attempts fall flat. It was clear that Hotch was immune to her charms, his focus unwavering even in the face of relentless flirting.

As Sarah retreated, finally somewhat defeated, the BAU members exchanged triumphant looks, their silent bet settled. Hotch may have been unflappable in the field, but when it came to dodging unwanted advances, he was truly a master of his craft. And you, well, you were just enjoying the show, your amused smile barely masking your annoyance as you watched the scene unfold.

The breaking point came during a particularly intense case, where the unsub's erratic behavior had everyone on edge. You felt the adrenaline coursing through your veins as you moved cautiously through the dimly lit corridors of an abandoned warehouse, every nerve on high alert.

In the heat of the pursuit, Sarah's impulsive decision shattered the fragile equilibrium you had struggled to maintain with your team. Ignoring protocol and disregarding the safety of the team, she charged ahead recklessly, her actions sending shockwaves rippling through your ranks. Bullets flew past you like angry hornets, the deafening roar of gunfire echoing off the walls as chaos descended upon you.

It happened in the blink of an eye, a split-second decision with far-reaching consequences. A bullet sliced through the air like a deadly whisper, its trajectory aimed straight for your chest. But thanks to the protective barrier of your bulletproof vest, the impact was nothing more than a forceful shove, the fabric absorbing the blow with a sickening thud. The impact knocked the wind out of you, pain searing through your body as you stumbled backward, clutching your chest.

As the adrenaline faded and the reality of what could have been sunk in, fury ignited like a wildfire within you. You rounded on Sarah, your voice a crescendo of anger as you unleashed the pent-up frustration that had been building for weeks. Each word was a dagger aimed straight at her heart. Your tone laced with a venomous ferocity that mirrored the intensity of the emotions raging within you.

Coughing up blood, your vision blurred as you struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Anger surged through you like a tidal wave, drowning out the pain as you staggered to your feet. With a primal roar, you lunged at Sarah, grabbing her by the collar with a strength born of desperation.

"What the fuck was that?" you yelled, louder than you ever had before. And certainly not in front of the team. Your voice raw with fury. Each word was a thunderclap, reverberating through the warehouse like a warning shot. "You could have killed me! Or them! Do you even realize what you've done?"

But Sarah's response was a defiant sneer, her gaze unwavering in the face of your righteous indignation. "I did what needed to be done," she spat, her voice laced with arrogance. "I'm not afraid to take risks to get the job done."

The words were like a slap to the face, a cruel reminder of the recklessness that had nearly cost you everything. With all your rage, you shoved her away, your hands trembling with anger as you struggled to contain the tempest raging within you.

"You're a liability," you growled, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. "And if you ever put my life, their lives,” You pointed to Spencer and Emily behind you, “in danger again, I won't hesitate to take you down myself."

As you stood there, trembling with fury and pain, the rest of the team made their way over. You still hasn’t seen Aaron yet but the rest of them looked on in shock and disbelief. Derek surged forward, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pulled you back from the confrontation. "Easy there Y/N," he said, his voice low and soothing as he tried to calm the storm raging within you. "Cool off."

Emily and JJ exchanged worried glances. Finally, Aaron found you after too many moments of losing it in front of everyone. His eyes widened in alarm as he took in the sight of blood staining your lips, his heart clenching with fear at the sight. "What happened?" he demanded. His usually calm voice was laced with urgency as he reached out to gently touch your arm. His fingers trembled against your skin, his touch a comforting anchor in the swirling chaos of the moment.

Still reeling from the confrontation and the shock of narrowly escaping serious injury, Spencer stepped forward, his voice calm but tinged with urgency. "Aaron, Sarah made a nearly fatal mistake," he said, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "Her impulsive actions endangered everyone on the team, especially Y/N." You were thankful he was willing to step in because you weren’t quite sure if you had the right words.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury as he turned his gaze on Sarah. The air around him crackled with palpable anger, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. "Is this true?" he demanded, his voice cold and steely as he pinned her with a hard stare.

Sarah shifted uncomfortably under his intense scrutiny, her bravado faltering in the face of his unwavering gaze. "I...I was just trying to apprehend the unsub," she stammered, her voice wavering with uncertainty.

But Aaron's patience had worn thin, his temper flaring like a raging inferno. "You made a reckless decision that put the entire team at risk," he snapped, his voice echoing off the walls of the warehouse. "Until you can prove that you're capable of following protocol and putting the safety of your teammates above all else, you will not be back in the field."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the consequences of her actions. Sarah's expression fell, her defiance crumbling under the weight of his judgment. It was a harsh lesson, but one that she would need to learn if she ever hoped to earn back the trust of her colleagues and prove herself worthy of wearing the badge.

As Aaron turned away, his attention returning to you with a renewed sense of protectiveness, you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support of your team leader and husband. But as you tried to catch your breath, a sudden coughing fit wracked your body, drawing Aaron's attention back to you. Concern flashed across his features, his eyes narrowing with worry as he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to steady you.

"Hey sweetheart," he murmured softly, his voice a gentle caress against your ear as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead. "Let's get you checked out, alright?"

You attempted to speak, but the coughing fit continued, leaving you gasping for air. So, you shook your head in protest. You were fine and you knew it, but the damn bullet hit you right in the lung leaving you gasping for air. Aaron's worry deepened, his brow furrowing with concern as he knelt down beside you, his hands hovering anxiously over your shoulders.

"Honey, just breathe," he urged, his voice filled with tenderness as he placed a comforting hand on your back. "We'll get you to the hospital, and they'll take care of you. I promise." It wasn’t usual that he dropped those sweet terms of endearment to you in front of the team, but he couldn’t really care. Not when he could’ve lost you.

Despite your protests, Aaron's determination remained steadfast. With gentle insistence, he scooped you up in his arms, cradling you against his chest with a strength born of love and concern. "You're going to the hospital," he declared, his voice unwavering as he carried you towards his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer sweetheart."

As Aaron settled into the driver's seat beside you, his eyes flickered with concern as he stole glances, his hand reaching out to brush against yours in a silent gesture of reassurance. But despite his unwavering determination to get you to the hospital, you couldn't help but feel a stubborn sense of resistance bubbling within you.

"I'm fine, Aaron," you insisted, your tone tinged with frustration as you crossed your arms over your chest. "This is incredibly dramatic. You’ve been hit in your gear too."

Aaron's expression softened at your words, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Maybe I am," he admitted with a chuckle. "I also know what it feels like honey. I’d rather be safe than sorry."

You shot him a playful glare, unable to suppress the teasing smile that danced on your lips. He cared for you, truly. Every inch of himself loved you more deeply than even you could have fathomed. You also knew that love bore stubbornness and there was no talking him out of what he knew he had to do. You were just along for the ride now. "You just can't resist playing the hero, can you?" You spoke up after a moment of silence between the two of you.

Aaron chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he glanced over at you. "Guilty as charged," he replied. "Always remind me never to get on your bad side," Aaron quipped, a lighthearted smile playing on his lips as he attempted to alleviate the tension that hung heavy in the air.

You managed a weak laugh trying your hardest to hide the pain radiating from your chest. However, so grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. "You looked like you were about to take matters into your own hands back there," he teased gently, his voice laced with affection.

The image of you, ready to throw down with the new agent, brought a genuine laugh bubbling up from deep within you this time. "Well, she did have it coming," you admitted with a mischievous grin. "But I guess I'll let you handle the heroics this time."

As the laughter subsided, Aaron's expression turned more serious, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm sorry things got so heated," he said softly, his voice tinged with sincerity. "I should have stepped in sooner. I thought she was harmless. Dealt with her type so many times before." He sighed, running a hand through his hair before finding your hand and lacing his fingers within yours.

You squeezed his hand, a warm smile spreading across your face. "It’s not your fault you’re such a silver fox," Tossing him a wink you couldn’t help but to tease him right on back. It’s how you knew everything was going to be just fine. The two of you had dealt with so much worse and come out even stronger, this would be nothing but a minor blip on your journey together.

Aaron laughed at your playful comment, a warmth spreading in his chest at your familiar banter. "Ah, so you're saying my charm is both a blessing and a curse," he retorted with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

You nodded, a fond smile playing on your lips. "Something like that," you agreed, feeling a surge of gratitude for the ease with which you could navigate even the toughest moments with Aaron by your side.

As the car glided through the streets towards the hospital, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the engine. Despite the events that had unfolded, you found solace in the quiet intimacy of the moment, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you would face them together. With each passing mile, you felt the weight of the day begin to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of reassurance that only Aaron could provide. His unwavering love and support was everything you needed. He guided you through the darkness, illuminating the path forward with hope and determination.

As you arrived at the hospital and Aaron helped you out of the car, you knew that this was just another chapter in your life together. You couldn't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude for the man beside you, your literal partner in crime, your rock, your everything. Together, you were truly unstoppable.

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kleem-o · 10 months

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Choose me her: Gojo x reader

part 2

a/n: since y'all really like the first one i'll give it to u guys since i love y'all. warning! theres smut here. here's part 1

"I-I can't, I fucking lover her"

Gojo hunches over as he vomits on a nearby bush in the park. "You're pathetic" Nanami sighs frustrated, as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Come on man, you can't keep being like this." Geto says as he pats Gojo's back. It has been weeks since you and Gojo fought, and Gojo did not hear a single word from you. You blocked him on all social media accounts, even Facebook. So what did he do? He drank and drank. He would often call up the boys to go get a drink at a pub, and the few first times Nanami and Geto were okay with it, they were comforting their friend after all, but after the 10nth time, it became ridiculous. "I-ugh I gotta call her." Gojo was a mess. He was loudly crying like a little kid, longing for you. He took out his phone, and upon turning it on it was already at your contact. "Man-tsk! come on stop it!" Geto took the phone away from Gojo, hoping to stop whatever mess he'll make that would make matters worse. He took a glance at Gojo's phone and the sight was..

Wed, June 14 at 9:13 PM Hi baby I'm very very sorry. Please believe me I really didn't mean what I said Y/N. Can you please come home? Can we please talk? I'm sorry baby I really am. I love you.

Wed, June 14 at 10:02 PM Y/N?

Wed, June 14 at 10:25 PM Y/N baby its getting real late now. Where are you? I'll come pick you up. Please answer baby its not safe out. I love you.

Wed, June 14 10:46 PM Y/N please pick up the phone, where are you?? Are you okay?? Please answer babe

Wed, June 15 1:09 AM Hii baby I heard from Shoko you were at your parents' house. Lets talk soon okay? Goodnight. Sweetdreams. I love you.

Before Geto could read more of the endless messages of 'I love yous' and 'I'm sorry' and 'Come home', Gojo snatched his phone back and immediately called you. Of course only for it to be added to the countless missed calls he made. This made the man cry harder as his two friends helplessly watched. "Why don't you just go to her house then?" Nanami pointedly asked. "Obviously I already thought of that! I did and when I went there she wasn't there anymore, so I went to her apartment, but I think she told the landlady not to let me in the building.." Gojo kept his head down, too ashamed at everything that happened. All of this was his fault after all. If he listened to you none of this would have happened. "Okay, look. Drinking to kill your liver isn't helping anyone, you don't even like alcohol! Go talk to her. Stay in front of her building or something! We'll try our best to help you-" "We??" "-yes, WE will help you" Geto looked at Nanami with a furrowed brow, there was no way he was letting Nanami escape. "But for now, lets just go home. You're too wasted to talk to anyone anyway." Nanami says. The two drove Gojo home.

Gojo's apartment was silent, too silent. He misses the way you would greet him when he got home, the way you would kiss him. He misses hugging you from behind as you cook, and he misses how you would bite his arm as he does the dishes. He misses all the silly things, all the things that reminded him of you. As he got to his bed he knew that a killer headache would welcome him in the morning, and you weren't there to cuddle it all away. He thinks of you as he lies down on the cold big, was the bed always this big, bed. He hugs the pillow that you always used, and closed his eyes wishing it was you.

Gojo woke up to the smell of bacons. He blinked then quickly ran to the kitchen "Y/N?!" He was shocked to see not you, but his best friend? What was she doing here? "Oh! You're awake, here I made us breakfast." She says as she sets the bacon down on the table. "Umm.. What are you doing here?" Gojo remained standing away from her as she says "Well I heard that you got crazy wasted last night, so I came here! Not even a thank you??" She giggles but Gojo remained serious as he rubs the back of his neck "Look, Y/N and I got in a fight and- I think we should establish some boundaries." The girl looked at him shocked, like she was offended "Satoru I am your best friend. Who cares what that bitch thinks?? You guys are bound to break up anyway, besides" She went closer to Gojo and hugged his arm "you got me anyway" Gojo's blood ran cold. He was beyond disgusted not just by what she was saying, but by the fact that he never knew how she felt and that you were right. Gojo immediately threw her arm off in anger. He couldn't believe this. He felt betrayed. And oh how he wishes he could turn back time, he really fucked up this time. "What the fuck?? First of all fuck you for calling my girlfriend a bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are?? You think you're special?? Well you're not. Don't even think to compare yourself with Y/N. I don't fucking like you and I don't want to ever see you again" The girl ran out of his apartment crying in embarrassment. Gojo had to talk to you.

He drove fast to your apartment. And as if luck was on his side today, he saw you just about to enter the building. He quickly ran to you, catching your wrist gently. "Wait! Y/N." You looked at him as he tried to catch his breath. "Please, can we talk?"

You led him to your apartment, and as soon as the door closed, he hugged you tightly from behind "Please Y/N- I'm so sorry for everything that happened. It was entirely my fault and you were right, I was being an asshole for not listening to you. I'm sorry I made you feel that way, there's no excuse for what I did. But I promise I'll change, I- I'll never make the same mistakes again! I know this might be a lot but I hope you can give me another chance-" You burst out giggling "Satoru! Wait I- haha! stop! I'm ticklish!!" Gojo was so confused as to why you were laughing but then he realized he was subconsciously rubbing your sides, something that was so natural to the both of you "Oh! I'm sorry baby."

You and Gojo had a long serious talk that day, about how you felt, how sorry he was, and how he'll change for the better. It was a day full of crying, and to your surprise Gojo was crying even more than you, that you had to wipe his tears while he rests his head on your chest like a little puppy. Gojo made it a point for you to tell him everything, all the frustrations you had, and things you wished were better. You both established that communication is key.

"Are we okay now baby?"

"Hmmm.. I don't know... I think you're missing something though.."

"Okay just tell me babe, hm?"

"I didn't get any kisses"

The moment you said that Gojo's heart felt very warm, he felt home. He immediately tackled you on the couch with kisses on your cheek, neck, and lips. Your apartment was now filled with giggles, chuckles, and relief. You both had pizza delivered to your apartment, and after eating dinner you both are cuddled in your bed, him spooning you, arms wrapped around your waist, while you and him watch random tiktok videos on your phone. It was comforting. A few giggles here and there. Your back was against his chest and you shifted a bit to get more comfortable, unbeknownst to you, you rubbed your ass snug against his length.

Gojo noticed this, and now he was super aware of his surroundings. You smelled so good, just freshly out of the shower, you were so soft his hands began rubbing at your sides, up and down getting dangerously low to your ass, and high to your breast. He was getting hard, and subconsciously humping our ass. "I can feel you, you know" Gojo was taken aback, maybe this was too soon after your fight. "Oh sorry I-" He was cut off by your lips on his. He licked your bottom lip, asking for access in which you opened your mouth and deepened the kiss. His tongue caressed yours, as spit began dripping on both of your chins. The make out was getting too heated, and although he was a bit embarrassed by being hard rock just by a kiss, he got on top of you as he started to dry hump you. You felt him smirk in the kiss as he felt your pussy getting wet. He pulled away from the kiss, a line of saliva connecting the both of you "My pretty baby getting so wet for me, so good for me" He removed your top and circled your nipple with his tongue before sucking it gently, rolling it in between his lips. You were mewling and Gojo felt your hips grinding, your pussy hungry for relief. He removed your shorts as he sucked on your nipple, and traced your slit with his fingers, teasing you "Fuck you're so wet baby, such a good slut for me, yeah?" You were now moaning, wanting more of his touch "Ye-Yes please baby I want-I need it please. I missed you."

"I missed you too" Gojo rubbed fast circles on your clit, making your back arch and mouth turn into an "o", Gojo swore you looked like a goddess. He went down on you getting a good look at your pussy, how wet- how delicious it was. He licked up and down your slit, making you squirm so much that he had to hold your legs around his head. He licked your throbbing clit before taking it in and sucking and gently nibbling on it, making you scream in pleasure "Ah-! B-baby, right there-fuck! Feels so good baby!" Gojo kept licking and sucking your clit as his finger entered you. You let out a gasp as you moan when he rubbed your sweet spot, adding another finger in to give you more pleasure. "Baby-'Toru wait! I-I'm close! ah- nng! I'm cumming I'm cumming I'm cummin-!" You arched your back as you spasmed, your orgasm bringing you to heaven as you grind, fucking yourself on his tongue. Gojo felt like cumming seeing you like that, he could tell that his boxer was stained with his precum. He hurriedly removed his clothes, wanting to enter you now. His big cock hit his tummy as he removed his pants, head red and twitching dripping with precum. You spread your legs wider for him, arms reaching out as you say "Daddy please fuck me."

Gojo lost control and had only one thought, he wanted to cum in you. You both gasp as he pushed his cock in your pussy, walls hugging his cock tightly. He thrusted, hips bucking wildly as you moan out in pleasure, eyes rolling at the back of your head while your tongue lolled out your mouth. Gojo felt his cock twitching at the sight of your fucked out face, though he wasn't any better. His eyes were also rolling at the back of his head at the feeling of your wet tight hole. The bed was creaking and hitting the wall with how fast his pace was, but neither of you care. All you and Gojo could think about was each other in this moment. He kissed and sucked on your neck as you grip on his hair, legs locking on his hips. The lewd wet sound of skin slapping made you both feel very hot. "A-aah! D-daddy I'm I- ahh-! Baby p-please" "I know baby I-fuck-I know baby. Cum for me, cum for daddy, yeah?" He slipped his hands between the two of you and began to rub your clit fast. This pushed you over the edge and you came hard. Walls tightening and throbbing, Gojo was close to cumming too as he felt his balls rise. " I'm cumming baby- Fuck! I'm cumming-take it- take it all!" He raised your legs close to your chest, bending you as his cock hardened even more and twitched, letting out ropes of cum in your pussy. Gojo groaned as he came, eyes rolled to the back of his head while he let out breathy moans. He lay on top of you as he finished, both of you trying to catch your breath. He kissed you on the lips as you played with his hair. You both knew you had to clean up, you were both covered in sweat and slick, and so was the bed sheets. But you were both too tired to move, you guys had tomorrow after all right? With this comforting thought you both drift off to sleep, with Gojo's arms wrapped around your waist as he nuzzles your neck, and your hand resting on his hand while the other on his back.

You both slept peacefully, feeling content, complete.

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed i wasn't really planning on doing this but i had fun lol

@porridgesblog @remniriis

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arminsumi · 7 months

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Scary Movie Night

G. Satoru — さとる ⋅ fem reader

🔞 mdni / nsfw / smutty

NOTE : i have no idea, i just wrote and wrote and then a 4k fic came out. i was supposed to be watching scream and totally got sidetracked with this daydream of watching a horror movie with stsg and then you and gojo just start making out when he leaves 🥴

SUMMARY — the three of you planned to watch horror movies all night, but instead you started making out with Satoru on the couch after a long tension built up between you.

WARNINGS — not proofread pls ignore errors, cheesy, spicy make out, dry humping, smutty, sexual tension, heavy flirting and teasing, something between u and Suguru 🤭, lighthearted jealousy, nicknames (sweetheart, baby, princess etc), gojo is so bratty, kinda sub!gojo stuff but he's also a bit dom??, lap straddling, Suguru walks in on you two

WORDCOUNT — 4k

🍒 — J ⋅ reblogs and comments help a lot ! enjoy reading :)

"AAA ~ !! "

And the first character of the movie dies, of course, you already knew that because Satoru so kindly spoiled it minutes earlier.

"Seriously? I could scream more convincingly than that."

"I need proof." Suguru jokes teasingly, arm draping sultrily over the couch riiight around your shoulders. He stuffs some caramelized popcorn in his mouth. How can he make even the act of eating popcorn look so sultry and attractive?

"Shut up." you shake your head and smile. "This movie's so cheesy, which one of you picked it out again?"

"Satoru."

"Hey! Cheesy isn't bad. And besides, the killer's a hottie."

You chuckle with Suguru. "So we're watching horror movies because the killer is hot?"

Satoru shrugs like it's obvious, scooting closer to you as inconspicuously as he can. But he's not smooth like Suguru; you notice the increased proximity and roll your eyes.

"Yeah, why else would you watch a horror film?" Satoru says.

Suguru responds, "Ah... maybe because you want to get scared?"

"Eh!" Satoru waves his hand dismissively.

You decide to tease him a bit just to get a reaction out of him. He's so easy to tease. "I get it. Satoru's too scared to watch something that's actually scary."

He glares at you immediately. You laugh, Suguru stifles his laugh and habitually rubs his index finger back and forth across his upper lip. (And he even manages to make that attractive.)

"I'm not scared of anything! I can watch any horror movie, no problem." Satoru boasts.

"Okay, big boy, let's put in something that's actually scary." Suguru teases.

"Ooh, how about the Grudge?" You suggest.

"Nah, too scary for me." Suguru admits.

"Can't handle a real scary movie, huh big boy?" Satoru mocks spitefully.

Suguru looks over at him and raises his brows very high. There's a tension between them, but then it breaks when Suguru decides to swap out the movies. The cheesy one is tossed, and hello the Grudge; you're nervously fidgeting and curling up in anticipation when the intro starts rolling.

"Be right back, getting refills. Satoru don't eat too many sweets you're gonna go into a sugar coma." Suguru sighs right after he says that, because the white-haired menace shovels a handful of sweets into his mouth and chews.

And he chews as loudly as possible right next to your ear. Chew chew chew.

"Satoru, I swear to god."

He giggles mischievously, stealing a sideways glance at you.

Why does she look so good tonight? This isn't fair.

The movie's starting, Suguru's trying not to make too much noise as he rifles around in the kitchen for refills. Such a sweetheart, he's refilling your drink without you even needing to ask.

Before his best friend can reassume that suggestive arm-draped-over-the-couch-but-really-over-your-shoulders position, Satoru does it; you feel the warmth and slight plush press of his toned arm against the back of your head.

Suguru doesn't think much of it and just sits back down normally. Though you do feel a bit sandwiched between them. But that's not uncommon in your friendship; they've been sandwiching you between them since highschool.

Satoru audibly swallows, but covers it up by making obnoxiously loud noises; shifting his legs, tucking them, untucking them, putting them over your lap and cheekily smiling until you scowl and push his legs off and then he pouts. He pouts so genuinely that you apologetically allow him to put his thigh over yours, just how he likes to do when the both of you are sitting side-by-side.

The movie's rolling. All three of you have your eyes glued to the screen. Satoru can feel you start to scrunch your shoulders up, so he teases (and talks during the movie, like he always does).

"You gettin' scared, princess?" he smirks. "Should I hold you — "

"SHHH!!" you and Suguru hush him in sync.

Satoru rolls his eyes and shuts up, but only for a little while. Then he pipes up again.

"Man, this isn't even scary, we should put something else in — "

"SHHH!!"

He shuts up. And then, the funniest thing happens.

Satoru starts getting scared. Suguru notices it, but you don't; and it makes him quietly smirk. He would never expose his friend like that right in front of his crush, though. So he doesn't tease and just casually watches the movie, completely immune to the horrors.

You can feel Satoru tensing up, but then as if he notices you noticing, he relaxes his muscles. Then he clears his throat loudly.

"SHHH!!"

"Sorry! Jesus I can't even clear my throat? Bleh."

"Satoru, quiet."

He pouts. Now it's silent again, except for the movie playing and the rain beginning to hit the window softly. The room is dimly lit, and the atmosphere isn't eerie but horror movies always change that.

It's raining, raining, raining, the movie is playing, the three of you are sinking into the couch, invested.

Then there's a small, sudden thunder crack and it makes Satoru jolt like a cat.

"Haha." Suguru stifles his laugh.

Satoru pokes hard at his cheek. "Shut up."

You tease, "Gettin' scared, princess?" you mimic mockingly.

"Yeah right! I can feel you trembling besides me." Satoru grumbles, unexpectedly defensive.

"Oh yeah. I'm just so terrified. Hug me, Satoru, I'm scared." you joke sarcastically. But sarcastic or not, his heart lurches.

You don't notice until you're halfway through the movie, but Satoru was the one trembling; very subtly. You can even feel the thighs of his muscle tensing up — he's still resting his leg on top of your thigh, unmoving. Why would he move? He's comforted by your body warmth. He needs that right now.

There's another thunder crack, and it makes both you and Satoru jump this time.

"Haha. Wimps." Suguru laughs, playfully mocking the both of you.

"Ah shut up!" you furrow your brows.

"Y/n, if you're scared you can cuddle m — "

" — meee, you can cuddle me, baby." Satoru interrupts Suguru, resulting in a funny side-eye moment between the two of them. Suguru shakes his head.

Satoru's scooting even closer, pressing his body against yours. Side by side. Warm. Firm and soft. Basically cuddling. You're sure you couldn't be any closer, but then Satoru manages to become even closer.

Your words echo in his head and for some reason, get him feeling hot beneath the hem of his pajama pants.

Hug me, Satoru, I'm scared.

Seriously? Did you realize how hot you were? How dare you say something like that?

He craves more intimacy with you. And he's no stranger to just randomly rearranging your body or playing with it, he's always been touchy since high school. Like a cat, he only gets physical and comfortable with calm people like you and Suguru.

So he takes his thigh off your thigh, right? And then two big hands grab your thighs, press them together and put them right over his lap.

"What the hell...?" you laugh under your breath.

"Isn't this comfier?" Satoru murmurs sensually, lips grazing your cheek.

"Augh, get a room you two. Gonna make me nauseous." Suguru grimaces.

"You're just jealous!" Satoru giggles, trying his best to not look at the TV screen.

"SHUT... up and watch the movie. Your talking is distracting me." Suguru complains.

"Ughhh, but it's so boring I don't even wanna — " he pulls up the blanket over yours and his head. " — watch it anymore. Oh hey, this is intimate, isn't it? Hehe."

"Satoru! I wanna see the movie!"

"No you don't, you're scared shitless."

Suguru's just sitting to your left, shaking his head as he listens to you two flirt under the blanket as if it magically enclosed you into a space away from the world.

"I can hear you two." he grumbles. "If you're gonna make out, at least do it quietly."

"We're not making out!" you squeal embarrassedly, even though Suguru was clearly joking. There was no sign of making out happening under that blanket.

"...yet." Satoru winks, but you miss it because it's so dark now with the blanket draped over the two of you.

You can almost feel him blinking at you. Even if it's dark and impossible to see you, Satoru will still try to; he's just always been like that, ever since you first met him. In fact, on the first day you met him, he wouldn't stop staring at you, as if he was captivated or fixated on some aspect of your face or behavior. Completely spellbound, starstruck, heart-eyed...

Suguru excuses himself to the bathroom so you two can have your little moment.

You ripple the blanket off your head to look at him as he leaves. "Bring back those pretzel snacks."

"M'kay, angel." Suguru hums.

"Thanks, my boy."

Satoru looks at you very dramatically.

"What?"

"What the hell? I'm right here! You know I'm the one who's had a crush on you all these years, not him! RIGHT SUGURU?"

There's a hesitation, then Suguru confirms from the bathroom even though he didn't hear a damn thing. He just agreed because it's his best friend asking for a confirmation.

"YUP THAT'S RIGHT."

"See! What, why are you laughing?" Satoru starts to smile because you're starting to break down into laughter.

He's facing you now. And it makes the both of you aware of just how much bigger he is, and how much smaller you are. Daddy long legs aside, he's just bigger than you; the broadness of his shoulders, the size of his hands — even his ears, which he remembers you used to tease him about in high school. He's got those cute ears that poke out a bit.

"Satoru..." you murmur against his face.

His heart pangs. "Huh?" he's so caught off guard, expecting you to lean in for a kiss. So he surreptitiously wets his lips with a swift swipe of his tongue.

"...you know, I'm sorry for always teasing you about your ears in high school. Looking at them now, they're really cute." you admit, hand coming up to caress his ear; fingers just grazing his sharp undercut.

His stomach knots up, and he goes silent, too stunned to respond. "Oh... thanks..."

You're side-eyeing the movie for a moment, and poor you; it's at just the right moment for a terrible jumpscare.

You reactively grab for Satoru's shirt and arm, squeezing tight and nearly yelping because you were caught so off-guard. Your heart is racing and so is his; but not because of the movie.

"I hate this film!" you whine into his chest, and he thinks he's in heaven right then. Is his crush really holding onto him during a scary movie? Um, hell to the yes. This is his dream. This is exactly what he wanted out of this experience, as cheesy as it is, he doesn't care that it's cheesy in fact he likes that it's cheesy.

"Tell me about it..." he huffs under his breath, and it fans your face and he can feel it come back to him. That excites him so much.

"And it's all your fault we're watching it, 'cuz you had to show off your 'manliness' or whatever! So Stupid!"

"Yeah, but, it got you in my arms, so it wasn't such a bad idea." he flirts with a slight nervous shake in his voice.

"Huh?" you look into his eyes. Ooh boy, he's holding it in. He's refraining. He's tying his hands behind his back, metaphorically; but not for long...

"What? I've got a pretty girl clinging to me 'cuz she's scared of a horror movie. And it's a rainy night. Bonus points." he smirks.

"Oh shut up... stop flirting with me or I'll — "

" — you like it, don't you? Being this close?"

You look at him in surprise. Where did that serious tone come from? It's laced with something sexual that just raises the excitement in the air between you and him. He's on edge. He has to kiss you. He's thinking about it so hard that he's sure he'll just snap at any moment.

"Y-yeah..." you admit.

You're suddenly so conscious of the closeness. The slight press of his biceps as his arms ensnare you, how you're practically sitting on top of him — when did that happen? His breath smells like the sweets he's been snacking on all night.

His breath fans your face and now he's really thinking about it as he stares at your lips.

"You sooo wanna kiss me." he cheekily teases you.

"Ew, cheesy." you cringe at him. You playfully shield yourself by putting your hand over his lips. His pretty nose peaks over the edge of your palm.

When you cover half his face like this, you realize just how striking his eyes are. Even in the dim light, they're capable of holding your whole attention. The movie is just another background noise.

"Mmf."

"What was that, loser? Can't hear what you're saying. Speak up." you tease.

"Mmf mm-hmmf-hmf? hmf hmf." it sounds like he's offended, and then he's snatching your hand away and climbing on top of you.

He's soaking up your every giggle. And underneath his playfulness, he's trying to show off his strength. Not like you notice, you're just enjoying it; being pinned under him like you're the tiniest thing on the planet to him.

Now he lifts his hips away from you, so you don't feel how hard he's getting. He can feel himself throbbing in his pajama pants. Such cute pants for the fact he's got a big cock underneath them

There's very little space to think when he's so chokingly close to you. His scent pervades your senses. His whole essence invades your space. It's just Satoru Satoru Satoru, nothing else is in your head. And for him, it's just you you you, nothing else is in his head, either.

His eyes roam up and down your body in one small moment, it excites his fantasies. Now he's wondering not just about what your lips taste and feel like, but also about what your body tastes and feels like; he knows one thing's for sure, and that's your softness. He's hugged you like he's trying to crush your bones in the past, and muttered praises about how impossibly soft your little body is in his.

"See that?" he murmurs, blurting out his thoughts without thinking, "Our bodies fit together perfectly. 'sure our lips would, too."

"Wow... where did that come from... you just gave me butterflies, Satoru." you chuckle nervously against his lips.

He's so tempted. He's right on the edge. Why's he holding back? He's forgotten by now.

"Good..." he mutters suggestively against your lips, eyes beginning to become lidded with sultriness as he leans in for a kiss.

And oh wow... that's a kiss he won't forget for the rest of his life. It's soft. He melts against you like butter in the sun. He was so right; your bodies fit together perfectly, and so do your lips.

" 'Toru..." you mumble his sweet nickname into his mouth and it nearly makes him moan, but he holds it in and kisses you like a gentle boy.

He's trying so hard to mask his horniness, but it's showing through; he's starting to shake from how bad he wants you. This kiss is enough until it's not; and then he turns up the heat. His lips glide over yours, wet sounds fill the room and the horror movie keeps playing in the background.

Kiss kiss kiss. He's kissing you like he's scared he'll never be able to after this moment, like this is the only time he'll have the courage to kiss you. And that courage and confidence falters mid-kiss, because he wonders worryingly if you crave him as badly as he craves you.

"Don't pull away... " you mutter against his saliva-wettened lips.

He breathes excitedly, eyes lighting up at your words. "Nah, if you want more kisses... 'gonna have to come get 'em." he pulls back, and you immediately miss the feeling of his torso pressing against yours.

"Teasing bitch, damn!" you complain, "Come back — kiss me more — oh you're so annoying!"

He giggles, lips feeling tingly. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it all over his chest and cheeks. And those poor cheeks. He hasn't blushed this boyishly since the last time you gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Come get your kisses ~ " he teases, beckoning you with his finger. Oh you hate when his confidence swells so suddenly like this, he becomes a menace. Well... 'hate'. You love it. He knows it. That's why he does it.

"Don't wink at me, you freak..." you crawl on top of his lap, and he didn't expect that even though he should have.

So now your face drops in surprise and amusement. "Oh... oh. Getting a lil' excited, big boy?"

A noise comes out of him, his face stuck with this embarrassed smiling expression. "Uh... uhah. Haha. A little bit? Shit don't blame me, you're fucking hot."

"Mmm, am I?" you lean close, lips grazing across his lips, eyes staring into his eyes. He feels electrified.

"Wow... uh..."

"Speechless, 'Toru? That's so unlike you." you tease him in such a low voice that he leaks a little precum. And you can feel it.

"W-wow... what... no... I'm not... holy shit... haha..." and then he laughs it off, nervously placing his hands on your hips. "D-don't straddle me like this, you'll make it worse."

"I'll make what worse?" you tease dirtily.

You give him so many butterflies right then that he starts feeling a bit lightheaded.

"My... uh... nothing..."

"...your? Continue. What were you gonna say? Now you've got my attention and we're all alone..." you keep teasing and it keeps making his heart flutter.

Wow. Call me lucky. She's straddling my fucking lap and teasing me? Am I dreaming?

"Wow... you're so speechless." you chuckle.

"Fuck off... what d'you expect... you're the one sitting on my dick..."

"... oh, sorry." you mutter a teasing apology and begin to move away, but his hands grip tightly and refuse to let you go.

"Stay."

"Ooh, now you're dom? Really thought you were sub for a second there." you cheek.

"Cheeky bitch..." he mutters before crashing his lips haphazardly against yours.

And surprisingly, the second kiss feels better than the first. It's electric. Your bodies are on fire and all the two of you are really thinking about is taking this to the bedroom.

Subconsciously grinding on his lap, feeling the outline of his cock, even feeling the wetness a bit as his tip digs between your thighs. You're starting to feel lightheaded now, too, with how he's kissing you.

"Trynna... t-turn me on or something...?" you giggle into his mouth.

His big hands come to cup your cheeks, trusting that those hips won't attempt to move off his lap again.

"... yeah..." he breaths heavily, looking at you so deeply that you feel like he's staring into your soul.

The moment is so hot and steamy that you feel like there's visible heat clouds hanging over the two of you. But then the moment is interrupted —

"Are you guys done making out — OH HAHA WERE YOU ACTUALLY MAKING OUT? I was just kidding — WHAT THE FUCK WHY ARE YOU GUYS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER! THIS IS HORROR FILM NIGHT NOT PORN NIGHT!" Suguru starts laughing, clutching his stomach.

"Party pooper!" Satoru frowns over at him from underneath you. You're mortified and laughing like a seal, slowly getting off Satoru's lap which makes him whine.

"What the hell! That's funny, were you two seriously fucking in front of a horror movie. Satoru, that's not classy at all."

"Shut! Up!" You throw a pillow at him, and he comes over to throw a snack packet at you, cheekily smiling. "We were not fucking!"

"Sooo... just dry humping?" Suguru teases.

"SHUT UP!" you and Satoru yell in unison, both completely embarrassed. Suguru laughs so hard that his cheeks hurt.

"And anyways, take this damn movie out, it's creepy! I'm not gonna sleep tonight..."

"...aw, big baby's scared of horror films after all. I knew you were bluffing. Y/n, will you sleep with my best friend tonight? I think otherwise he'll be sucking his thumb and not getting any rest."

"Oh you're sooo dead, come here." Satoru glares playfully at him and climbs over you to get to Suguru.

And the boys start playfighting, and you shake your head and get up to take the movie out yourself.

"I'm getting my own apartment one day, I swear. Living with you two is a nightm-AAAAHH!!' you whine, seeing the creepiest thing yet on the TV.

They laugh at you together, and it reminds you of high school so much at you feel a wave of nostalgia.

"No more scary movies!" you declare. "Never again!"

"Aw, but they brought you and Satoru closer together. I think next time you guys are too shy to kiss or fuck, just put in a horror film and it'll get the atmosphere right."

"Suguru, be careful what you say. Remember you don't pay rent."

Satoru cackles. "That's right!"

"Wow, what the hell... I'm never letting you borrow another hoodie." he retorts, purposefully bringing up the hoodie thing just to catch you and Satoru off-guard.

"WHAT! You what?! What??" Satoru is in between being playfully jealous and genuinely jealous.

"Suguru!" you cover your face out of embarrassment. You feel lightheaded from all the butterflies that the both of them cause in you.

"I didn't say anything." Suguru acts nonchalant, tearing into the snacks that were supposed to be for you.

"You! Gave her! Your hoodies!? This isn't gonna be a polyamorous thing, I'm possessive you know that!" Satoru's playfully battering his friend and his friend isn't reacting to it, which makes it all the more amusing. He's just languidly chewing on snacks.

"She asked for them." Suguru exposes.

Satoru stops and looks at you like he's been betrayed.

"Suguru!" You squeal, "Nono, Satoru he's lying — "

"YOU CAN HAVE MY HOODIES, WHY WOULD YOU WANT HIS!!" Satoru's getting louder and funnier by the minute.

"I'm sorry I didn't know I could ask for your hoodies." you blabber.

Suguru's watching you and Satoru like you're a comedy show, dusting the sugar coating of the candy off on his pajama pants.

"Of course you can have my fucking hoodies you idiot! I'll give you this one right now, damn it!" Satoru says.

"STOP TAKING YOUR SHIRT OFF — " you cover your eyes.

Suguru laughs, "As if you weren't planning to take it off earlier?"

"Exactly! Here, take it." a shirtless Satoru is shoving his red hoodie onto you.

"You two are ridiculous. I'm going to bed."

"TAKE MY HOODIE."

"NO."

"SO YOU'LL RUB YOUR COOCHIE ON ME BUT NOT WEAR MY HOODIE?"

"HAHAHA WHAT?"

"SATORU!! I'M GONNA KILL YOU!!"

Suguru's caving in with laughter after Satoru says that. His laughs always become soundless after a while, it's the cutest thing. His whole face is stressed into amusement.

"You love me!" Satoru's darting behind the couch for protection.

"You're so dead!"

"You're turning me on with this serial killer role you're playing right now!"

"GOJO SATORU!"

Suguru looks at Satoru, "Oh no, sh-she government named you, boy. Better run." he speaks through his laughter.

"I haven't done anything!"

"YOU SHIRTLESS FREAK, YOU EMBARRASSED ME IN FRONT OF THE ONE PERSON I WANNA BE COOL IN FRONT OF!"

"Aw." Suguru blushes for you a bit, "Cute."

Satoru stops, looks between you two, and gets riled up again. "What the hell!"

"I didn't mean it like that!"

And it goes on and on like that, until the three of you are too tired to keep laughing; and you're collapsing tiredly on the bed with Satoru after chasing him there. He said a lot of embarrassing things, but you got him back for each one.

You catch your breaths, and Satoru looks over at you, suggestively wiggling his brows.

"You scared from the movie? Need a big strong man to hug you 'n kiss you?"

"Satoru, kindly shut the fuck up."

"Wow, is Nanami rubbing off on you? You sound like him."

"You're a menace."

"My dick's a menace, too."

"Hahah, yeah right."

"I'm serious!"

You giggle, looking at him enticingly, "Then, wanna prove it to me?" you say just barely above a whisper.

Satoru's face gets hot, and what do you know he's already got a tent forming in his pajama pants.

"Yeah... come here. I'll show you."

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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Hi, I love your work so so much, but I've been too afraid to like to say it... you are such a phenomenal writer! ❤️❤️

I had a thought/request for cm? I think it'd be so cute/soft if like... the reader took meds or something, and while they are on a very important case it comes time to take their meds but they're very invested in working stuff out or whatever... and then a few of the team members phones go off and on of them is like, welp it's time to take your meds, and you're just like 🫠 you have an alarm to make sure I take it on time. I need some team fluff!

There's no room for recreation in your schedule. You personally think that being flown to the sunny beaches of florida and being confined to a stuffy police precinct is evil, but so are serial killers, you suppose.

Your head is starting to ache, and by the deep sigh that JJ lets out, hers is, too. The last thing on your mind are the little pills in your go bag, but your eyes are starting to droop from where they're scanning over a plotted map. Lines are starting to blur together, and you're thankful for the intrusion of an alarm.

Wait, two alarms.

Three, you note, frowning as you glance at the clock: 8:00.

Hotch's phone is one that buzzes as its pressed to his cheek, and he interrupts his running dialogue to scan the room for you.

"-understood. We'll send a team out, they should be there in 20. Y/L/N," He calls, and you stiffen slightly, ready for orders, "Take your medicine."

Those weren't the orders you'd been expecting. Your brow dips, creased in a frown as Hotch goes back to his conversation.

You glance questioningly at Reid, but all the doctor does is hold up his own phone.

"Your medicine," He prompts, showing the alarm ringing on his screen, "You're supposed to take it at 8:00."

"Here," JJ sticks a hand over your shoulder, pill bottle in hand, "Do you have water?"

Aaron's still engaged in conversation over the phone, but apparently parenting has given him good multitasking skills, because he hears JJ's question and passes his own water bottle to you, the plastic looking comically small in his large hands.

"Thank you," You mumble, "Uh- you set alarms on your phones... for me?"

"You don't do it for yourself," Derek teases, pinching at your side as you struggle to juggle both the pill bottle and the water. When you get the cap off of the medicine bottle Morgan takes it from you, shaking out the dosage you need and screwing the cap back on.

"I take them," You defend yourself, taking a swig of water and washing the medicine down, "I was just preoccupied tonight."

"And that's why we have the alarms," Rossi reasons, "Penelope had to help Reid and I with ours, she's the one that found your medical records and told us what time you needed to take them."

"That snoop," You scoff, "Someone has to take those computers away from her."

"I've tried," Aaron reasons, finally off his phone call, "She always outsmarts me. You took the meds?"

"Yeah," You nod, "Uh, thanks, guys."

"Anytime," Derek goads, ruffling your hair despite your protests to fight him off, "Someone let Garcia know you took 'em, or she'll call you herself."

Before Prentiss can pick her phone up off of the table, yours rings. There's a round of snickers throughout the room, and you raise it to your ear with a fondly exasperated sigh, "Yes, Penelope, I took my meds."

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princessbrunette · 25 days

Text

john b has a staring problem. its not often his mind isn’t racing to disgusting territories, but he’s got the most innocent face — and plus he’s the best at controlling his impulses, so you’d never know.

he was your friend, so he shouldn’t be having these thoughts about you. however — he was so handsome that you both knew he’d get away with it. it was a morbid thought, but you’d always told him that if he was a serial killer he’d be the type to fly under the radar merely due to his prince like appearance. john b took that as flirting. john b took that as you’d let him fold you like a pretzel. luckily for you he wasn’t a serial killer. the only thing john b wanted to kill was your ability to sit down for a couple of days.

he couldn’t help the staring, not when you looked like that — when you looked at him like that. everytime you’d gaze up at him through your lashes, giving him the doe eyes his lip would curl up and his eyes would glaze over just a little bit — thinking about whether or not you’d give him that same look if you were to sink down to your knees, eager to suck him off.

he’d always considered himself a lover boy, and he was — these feelings going way deeper than just sexual. that being said, everytime your brow would crinkle in stress he’d furrow his own brows sympathetically. not because he was a total empath, but because he knew the solution was so simple — being to let him hold your legs open and rub your little clit in circles until you forget your own name.

you were sweet by nature, it was why he liked you — but that didn’t mean you couldn’t hold your own. on grumpier days, you’d have a little attitude — and truthfully he’d love it, grinning happily to himself because it gave him permission to fantasise about stuffing his thick fingers down your throat, cooing in your ear about how it’s ‘not nice to talk to daddy like that, okay pup?’ until your attitude vanishes.

he didn’t want to objectify you completely, no — like mentioned, you were his friend. he respected you. but at the end of the day, he’s a guy — a guy who just can’t help but notice the way your tits bounce a little in your shirt when you pull yourself closer to the table at the chateau by the chair. he doesn’t feel too bad about gawking, he’s pretty sure everyone notices — even jj has the audacity to let his eyes linger on your chest without your knowledge, which makes john b ball up his fist. instead of staying with the irritation — he loses himself to a fantasy. a question of whether you could bounce on his cock, making your tits move just like that. he questioned whether you could take his cock at all, self aware of the obscene size of it. he adjusts himself at the table at the thought of you mewling at being split open, begging him to make it fit.

for john b, the best part of thinking was the assurance that there was no way for anyone around you to know what was going on inside your head. a peaceful escape for him to drop the gentleman act and be as nasty as he wanted.

you had noticed the staring problem though, and would often ask “what you lookin’ at john b?” with that cute little smile — to which he’d always respond — “oh nothing. juuuust thinking.” in that deep croony voice that brought you so much comfort. his answer was technically the truth. he was just thinking, thinking about all the possibilities your pretty body had to offer.

#john b prompt #bsf!johnb

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 9 months

Text

i literally have no idea what this is, or where it came from but here's a thing:

pairing: steddie | word count: 2,043 | rated: M (will be E in next part)

Eddie Munson was not Steve’s bi awakening, okay? He wasn’t.

He just happened to be standing in the middle of Family Video dressed like his bi awakening (and it didn’t help that he already had an embarrassingly huge crush on the guy).

Steve had come out of the back none the wiser to what he was about to see, glancing up from the tape he was carrying for someone who’d called earlier. His eyes met big, clunky, worn-in cowboy boots, long lean legs (and very nice ass–damn, they’ve got one of those stupid bandanas in their back pocket too) in classic Levis so tight they looked like they were painted on, the back of leather jacket (--hold on), and the back of a head of long, wild-looking, sun-kissed, yet still dark hair.

After his seconds-long oogling, Robin, who was chatting with Bon Jovi’s twin at the counter, glances behind him at Steve.

Bon Jovi tries to turn and look back without taking himself off the counter, but when that insane hair of his gets in the way, he shoves up off the counter and spins on one heel.

“Munson? Where the hell’ve you been?” Steve thanks whatever it is up there that the surprise of seeing Eddie again temporarily suspends his frazzled ‘hothothothothot’ thoughts about his friend enough to respond normally.

“Damn, Stevie, been gone all summer and all I get is a ‘The hell’ve you been’?”

“Of course, asshole, you’ve been gone All. Summer.” Steve says, finally getting to the counter himself and dropping the tape on it. He scoops Eddie up in a tight hug, one long won from their month of recovery post-Vecna.

Everything went fine, Vecna was dead, the upside-down sealed away, but they hadn’t all left unscathed. Specifically Steve and Eddie, both of whom ended their spring break from hell nursing bat wounds, and closer than ever before.

Then, after finally graduating, being hailed a hero for “saving” Max and Dustin from the real killer (thank you, suspicious government people), Eddie was hauled out of Hawkins by his Uncle, the former of whom got just enough time for a quick ‘Gotta go, Wayne wants me helping out at the farm this summer,’ before he was gone.

“I told you I would be, Harrington,” Eddie says once Steve sets him back down on his own two feet.

“So what happened? Where’ve you really been?”

Eddie raises a brow, “At the farm. Like I said.”

“Okay, well, excuse me for thinking it may have been the same 'farm' my parents said my childhood dog was sent off to.”

“You think my Uncle was gonna take me upstate to shoot me dead?”

“Obviously not, dumbass, but what other goddamn reason would you, Eddie Munson, have to be on a farm. Like with cows and stuff?”

“Though the sun did you some favors,” Robin cuts back in.

And isn’t that the truth. Up close now (and letting himself look), Steve could see how Eddie’s normally dark hair and pale complexion were now sun-kissed and so well be-freckled that it sent his stomach for another rollercoaster ride.

“Yeah, Munson, you planning on keeping the blond around?” Steve teases, picking up a strand of sun-lightened hair off Eddie’s shoulder and giving it a short tug.

“I don’t know, I’m not really used to how light…”

Whatever Eddie says after that is completely drowned out by ringing in Steve’s ears because Eddie stretches an arm up to paw at the top of his head and he’s wearing a crop top.

He’s wearing a goddamn crop top under his jacket, some band tee that looks like he’d hacked off himself..and are those abs?? God damn he is so fine. It’s not fucking fair. Who does he think he is running around like Steve’s own personal wet dre–

“Holy shit.”

He couldn’t help it. The words just fell out of his mouth.

“H-holy shit, you’ve got abs, Eddie!”

‘Thank you, Robin.’ Steve thinks at her absently since his brain is completely preoccupied..

“Wha–? Oh! Yeah! Check me out, huh?!” Eddie grins wide, lifting his shirt just a bit more to show off the toned expanse of stomach.

Steve’s mouth goes bone dry.

“And that’s not all,” Eddie says. He drops his shirt and shucks the jacket off his shoulders.

His very well sculpted shoulders.

And arms.

And oh god those hands. Steve could hear the soft scrapes of rough callouses against the leather when Eddie threw the garment onto the counter beside him and his only thought was about how they might feel against his skin..

Still beaming, Eddie flexes one, then both arms, his biceps bunching under more tanned skin. “I got a lot of ‘lifting heavy things and putting them back down again’ in over the summer.” he continues, “I’m probably stronger than you now, Harrington.”

“Ha haha, right..yeah. Robin, can you excuse us for a second?”

Steve doesn’t wait for her response before he grabs Eddie around one of those absolutely delicious biceps and hauls him through the store and out the back door.

He lets a grinning Eddie go as soon as they’re through the back door, taking a couple steps away towards the woods behind their building, and trying to calm down with measured breaths.

When he does turn around, Eddie’s stood away from the door, one hip cocked out and his arms crossed across his chest.

The grin on his face has melted down into a smirk though, and the look in his eyes is less teasing and more cautious.

Steve steps back up close to the other man, and literally starts to circle him like a shark. Scanning his eyes up and down Eddie’s body as he does.

“What’s goin’ on Stevie? Looking for some style tips?” he jokes.

Steve doesn’t answer, and starts his second cycle around his friend.

“You know, maybe get rid of some of those polos?” Eddie sounds just a bit more unsure this time.

Steve’s behind Eddie’s right shoulder when he speaks again. “You think you can barge back in after all this time, looking like that,” Steve comes around to stand in front of Eddie again, “And not expect me to react?”

Eddie grins wickedly again, and steps back at the same time Steve steps forward.

“Expect me to not want to devour you whole?”

“You expect me to want that, big boy?” Eddie says as he’s pressed between Steve and the closed back door.

Steve rears back immediately, “Shit, Eddie, I’m sor–”

“‘Cause I do.” Eddie grabs hold of Steve and spins them around, pressing the younger man back against the door instead. “Ohhh boy, do I want that.”

Steve groans as Eddie slots their hips together, “You really are a big boy, aren’t you sunshine?”

“The things I’m gonna do to you..” Steve growls out, Eddie’s jaw snapping open with his words.

They’re both startled away from the back door when Robin bangs on it, “You’ve got five minutes to get back in here before I drag you back in! It’s Friday and we’re about to get busy!” she yells through the door.

He hears her converse squeak on the tile inside the door as she heads back to the front, then chances a look at Eddie.

He looks as red as Steve feels, from the bit of his face he can see from behind the hair he holds over it.

“Eddie–”

“It’s cool, Harrington,” he wheezes out a dry laugh, glancing over at him, “Better get in for the rush before Robin comes back.

He reaches for the handle again, but is stopped short by a hand on his wrist.

“Listen, Eddie.” Steve says, giving the other man’s arm a soft tug to get him to turn around. “I may have gotten a little…over enthusiastic…”

Eddie’s face scrunches up in a weird way.

“No! Not in a bad way, unless you weren’t as into it as I was–doesn’t matter! Point is, I may have gone a little crazy, but I wasn’t faking it.”

“I don’t think guys can fake it, Steve-o.” Eddie jokes softly, a small smile on his face.

Steve chuckles just as soft, “Shut up man, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

“I think you do.”

“I dunno Steve," Eddie shrugs sarcastically, "You’re quite an enigma.”

“Okay, fine, here’s it spelled out for you: I am super into you.” Steve puts up a finger to stop whatever it is Eddie was about to say, “Hold on– I am bisexual, have been for a while and would like to try this..with you. If you want.”

“You gotta be more specific on what ‘this’ is, sunshine.” Eddie steps close to him once again.

Steve smirks, walking Eddie backward to the door again with both hands on his waist. Once he’s got him pressed back against the warm metal, he scoops the hair away from Eddie’s ear and holds it out of the way with a hand on the back of his neck.

He leans in, whispering right into Eddie’s ear. “I want to take you apart, Eddie.”

Eddie sucks in a sharp breath and Steve can feel the man’s heart hammering against his own chest.

“I want to suck you down, eat you out, and fuck you into next Tuesday.” He states, nipping on his earlobe for good measure before pulling back.

Steve takes in Eddie’s flushed face, his eyes blown out they’re almost completely black, his chest heaving.

“I’d also like to totally romance you and date the fuck out of you, but…” he shrugs, grinning as Eddie smacks his chest lightly with a laugh of his own.

“I’m serious though, Eddie. I want this.”

Eddie’s smile falls slightly. “You sure about the whole dating thing, Harrington? You know you can’t date me for real..like in public and shit.”

Steve shrugs, “I know, but… I don’t think I’d survive something casual with you, Eddie.”

Eddie lets out a breath like he’d been punched.

He takes back in a deep breath, then pulls Steve flush to him again.

“I think that sounds amend—-”

Eddie’s forehead smashes into Steve’s nose when Robin shoves the door open behind Eddie.

“Damn! I knew the door was a bad idea.” Steve says, his voice coming out nasally from where he’s pinching at the bridge of his nose.

“Time’s up, Dingus, get your fruity butt inside.”

Eddie chuckles after her, leading Steve inside. “You shouldn’t tip your head back, lean forward and let it drain out.”

“Ugh, you sure? I’ll get blood all over me,”

“I’m sure, sweetheart, I’ve had a few bloody noses in my time.”

“Here,” Robin says once they reach the counter.

Steve takes the offered tissues, and soaks up the small trickle of blood.

“You still wanna date me if my nose is crooked?” he asks Eddie, who’s (sadly) shrugging his coat back on.

He pretends to think for a moment. “Sorry Stevie, that’s a dealbreaker. Even if it was my forehead what done it.”

“Ugh you’re such a dweeb, I don’t know what you see in him, Steve.”

“He’s hot, okay? And he’s still hot even after he rejected me just now.” Steve states matter-of-factly while shoving a wad of tissue into the one nostril still bleeding.

“You think I’m hot?”

“Very.”

“No, you’re gross. You guys are both gross.”

“Oh Birdie, you should've heard the things he was saying to me outside; all ‘Ooh Eddie, your muscles are so big and so is your hair and also your di—’”

“OKAY! That’s enough of that!” Steve cuts him off, pushing the still grinning Eddie toward the door, then, a softer: “Yours or mine after I’m off?” once they’re at the door.

“Definitely yours, unless you want Wayne to be privy to our shenanigans.”

“Yeah, that’s a no. Also, shenanigans? Really? You’re a super dweeb.” Steve smirks, pushing his boyfr— frien— Eddie out the front door. “I’m off at four, see you at five?”

Eddie fumbles backward over the curb but manages to catch himself, “It’s a date, Steve.”

He watches Eddie climb up into his van, and follows its path down the road and out of sight with a dreamy sigh.

“You still have tissues in your nose, Dingus.”

part 2/2 here | and on AO3!

definitely inspired by this post from @sparrowtapes

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #st #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve harrington having a crush on bon jovi is canon okay?#noelle writes

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satoruxx · 6 months

Note

sorry to go feral in your inbox but ghostface!miguel who is crazy about you (in a good way I promise) and does everything in his power to protect you and keep those horrible college guys from your classes away from you but you only know him as the mysterious gravelly voice who calls you every night that you’ve grown fond of as your personal lullaby-

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader | 1.5k words summary: ghostface!miguel, stalking, possessive miguel, violence, death, killing, obsessive behavior, suggestive, killer miguel ofc, reader is WAY too trusting, miggy just loves you so much !! rheya’s note: NONNIE BABES YOU GENIUS !! he absolutely would oh my fucking god. i am so normal about this (going feral) i was literally squealing while writing this it was rough. why is this concept hot? do i need therapy? probably. anyways he's a creep in this but in a good way? (the way this ask literally got me inspired to draw ghostface!miguel UGH) anyways ENJOY !!

miguel isn't a bad guy. he's not. he's one of the good guys actually, a hero. he's always been a hero.

it's not his fault that there are some assholes in the world that are fucked up, preying on innocent people who just want to live their lives.

sweet, innocent people like you.

how a girl as sweet and precious as you managed to get yourself surrounded by such horrible people is beyond him. and you're so nice too, always assuming that nobody has it out for you or that everyone has some good in them. with that mindset, you were just asking to be put in danger.

so, being the hero that he is, it's his obligation to look out for you, right?

it starts off quietly. he doesn't make an effort to connect with you, choosing to watch you from the shadows as he silently tracks your day. miguel is nothing if not observant, mentally noting every single person you interact with or looks your way. and if they get a little too close, a little too comfortable? well, then he'd just have to take care of that for you, wouldn't he?

he hates that one flirty coworker of yours, always leaning a little too close to you and chatting like he's your fucking boyfriend. miguel can see the little crease of discomfort in your brows whenever that coworker is nearby, and he decides that he hates that expression on you. but you feel fine afterwards, because when your coworker goes missing the next day, you send a quick thank you to the heavens, trying to push down your guilt.

he finds out that you try to make some extra money by tutoring a guy at your school. and when miguel watches the two of you through the windows of the library he feels hatred like no other run through his veins because he doesn't like how this guy looks at you. that asshole probably didn't even need tutoring to begin with, using it as a pathetic excuse to get close to you. what a fucking joke. but you don't have to stress about tutoring anymore because the next day you get a text saying the kid has transferred schools. you never hear from him again.

oh but the worst ones are the ones who ask you out on dates. they don't even know how lucky they are, getting to see you all dolled up and pretty for them, only to absolutely destroy your hopes for a good time. it makes miguel so angry he sees red. every fucking time one of those losers makes a comment that has your shoulders slumping with disappointment, a miserable frown on your pretty lips by the end of the night, he feels sick to his stomach. but he hopes that when you see your date's body on the news the next morning, you won't be so disappointed anymore.

only after watching over you for a while does miguel decide to finally talk to you, finding the perfect hiding spot to watch you through your window as you pick up your ringing phone. he has to stop himself from groaning because your voice sounds so much sweeter when it's in his ear, smooth and precious as you ask who it is. and he can't resist playing with you, dying to hear more as he sighs behind his mask.

"tell me your name and maybe i'll tell you mine." miguel answers, gravelly voice practically purring through the speaker. he can see the confusion on your face as you pace your kitchen, reaching for a bag of chips before walking back to your couch and settling in to watch a movie. he hears the screams from the tv and bites his lip. "what's that noise?"

"a movie." you reply, the expression on your face getting less guarded as you listen to his voice.

"a scary movie?" he asks, leaning against the edge of the roof so that he's got the perfect view of you. you take a chip and pop it in your mouth, chewing quietly, and he follows the movement of your lips with eager eyes.

"mhm," you nod, and miguel thinks it's so fucking cute the way you move your head even though you think he can't see you.

"you like scary movies?" he asks with a hum, and you voice out a yes. his eyes remain hooded and attentive as he effortlessly continues the conversation. "you got a favorite, sweetheart?"

he catches the way you melt under his sweet words, and miguel decides then and there that he's never letting you go. he listens to your answers with a grin, tucking his knife away and watching you animatedly talk to him for the remainder of the night.

and the rest is history.

you tell him about a guy who's bothering you? he'll bury him. someone made you cry? he'll break their legs. your date stood you up? he'll stab them so many times he loses count. and then after all of that, he'll call you like he always does, rumbling honeylike words into his phone as he casually watches you from behind his mask.

"and how was your day today, sweetheart?" he'll drawl out, late at night as he perches on the neighboring roof to your apartment. with the way he's angled he can perfectly see the innocent little smile on your face as you settle in bed, talking on the phone like you're not scared of him at all.

and you shouldn't be, because he'd never hurt you, of course.

some nights you'll giddily tell him about the most exciting parts of your day, smiling and giggling until you fall asleep without a care in the world. but on the nights when you complain or whine about somebody that's made you upset, wronged you, or god forbid, showed interest in you? well, those are the nights miguel has to grit his teeth and clench his fists, trying to control the flare of pure rage that courses through him. he lulls you to sleep with sweet words, trying to keep his cool but still vibrating with anger because who the fuck do they think they are, getting near you like that?

"don't worry, pretty girl," he sighs into the phone, twirling his knife between his fingers. "i'm sure they'll stop bothering you soon enough."

and they do. but you being the precious oblivious little thing you are, assume that you're just lucky. a guardian angel, you had said, was watching over you. miguel had just chuckled into the phone, deep and rich as he smirked at you from the roof once again.

"guardian angel? well lucky you, huh?" he had asked, feeling all too pleased with himself. you agreed with a nod.

well, if that's what you wanted to see him as he had no problem playing guardian angel for you.

and no he doesn't even want you to find out, because the last thing he wants to do is scare you. no no, he'd much rather protect you from the shadows, eliminating every single threat could ever harm a hair on your pretty little head. his reward comes in the form of you living your life, carefree smiles and all.

and granted he feels much more rewarded when he calls you late at night, deep voice teasing with an underlying sense of possessiveness as he speaks to you about anything and everything. he doesn't understand why and how you decided that he was safe to talk to, but you do, laughing and sighing into the phone until you've dozed off.

and if you've accidentally left your windows open, well of course being the gentleman he is, miguel will close them for you. but not before he stands at your bedside, raising his mask to watch you sleep peacefully. such a pretty little thing, so sweet and gentle. and after pulling himself away from your sleeping form, he quietly shuts the window behind him, yanking his mask back down with a smirk because he doesn't want anyone else to see you all vulnerable like that.

you were too trusting to begin with, but you trusting him is alright. after all he's the only one who's been looking out for you. anyone else tries to get near you and he'll have no choice but to tear their limbs off. they could be a threat to you, right?

but that's why he'll never let you out of his sight.

you're his after all.

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moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

soft sirius x reader pleasee 🙏🙏 either established relationship or fwb/friends to lovers vibes you decide

Thanks for requesting!

modern au

fwb!Sirius x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

“You ought to start locking the door,” Sirius calls out as he enters your flat. You tug out one earbud to hear him better. “I could be a serial killer.”

“Right, sure,” you snark lightly, washing dishes double-time. “And you ought to start calling before you come by, but we both have our bad habits.”

“Like you’d pick up if I did.” He saunters into the kitchen, taking in the mess and then pretending not to notice. He leans against the counter beside where you’re working. “I just thought I’d drop in and see if you have a bit of free time.”

“A bit?” you laugh. “Looking for a quickie, Black?” You stack more dishes on the drying rack, jolting forward to steady them when a bowl on the top threatens to tumble. “Sorry, no time. The kitchen’s been a mess for days, I have to clean up before my flatmate gets home from class and murders me.”

“But she seems like such a nice girl,” Sirius muses, taking the precarious bowl and drying it with a towel. “Anyway, doesn’t your flatmate’s last class end at, like, six? It’s hardly three.”

“It’s weird that you know that.” It’s not, really. You know a freakish amount of details about his life, too, but it’s easier to keep up the casualness of this arrangement if you pretend you’re not quite as close as you are. You go into the living room, collecting dirty dishes and talking whilst you walk. “She does, but I have to revise my essay, and if I don’t get this done before I start on that, it won’t be finished before she gets home. I’ll forget, I know it.”

“Hm.” Sirius takes the kettle down from its cabinet, nudging you aside to fill it from the tap. “Why do you have to revise your essay tonight?”

“Because it’s due in three days,” you explain, taking his place at the sink as soon as he’s out of the way to dunk more dishes in the soapy water. “And I have another essay due in four days, so if I don’t work on this one now, I won’t have enough time to finish that one. And besides those, I’ve got my regular work to keep up with.”

Sirius is quiet for half a second, which is unusual enough that you look over to check that he’s still here. He’s giving you a look you know too well, one dark brow and one corner of his mouth quirked up suggestively. “Sounds like you need to blow off some steam,” he says.

You try to scoff, but it comes out a snort. “Oh, fuck off. And quit looking at me.”

You don’t look up from your task this time, a particularly stubborn piece of food requiring your attention, but you can tell Sirius is pouting at you from just his voice. “A cruel demand, and one I can’t abide by. Sorry, gorgeous.”

“Freak.” You continue scrubbing at the dish. Finally, you give in, using your fingernail to attack the crusted-on piece of mystery food and doing your best to ignore the grossness of it. It comes off, but your nail breaks. “Damn it!”

“Hey.” The teasing tone drops from Sirius’ voice. “Take it easy, dollface. You’ve got time.”

It doesn’t feel like you have time. There’s been alarm bells going off in your head since you’d woken up on Monday morning and realized all you had to do this week, and there’s no time for any of it. There’s a dangerous pressure building behind your eyes, but if there’s one thing you definitely don’t have time for, it’s a breakdown. You force a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

“I know,” you tell Sirius. “Thanks.”

“Maybe you should take a break,” he suggests lightly.

You cut a knowing look his way. “I do not have time for a shag right now, Sirius.”

He grins, showing his teeth. “Not what I was thinking of, but as always, let me know if you change your mind.” You roll your eyes, and his smile drops. “Just, like, an actual break. You seem kind of stressed.”

“I am,” you say, like duh, “but I don’t have time for a break either. I’ll be less stressed when everything is done.” You just have to make it until then.

Sirius goes quiet again, but you don’t bother wondering about it this time. It’s fine if he’s worried about you. You want him to be, a little bit. You want someone to see how hard you’re trying, even if it doesn’t look like your efforts are producing much. You’ll wash the dishes, and your flatmate will still be annoyed you’d let them pile up in the first place. You’ll turn in your essays, and they’ll be just okay enough to pass. You can work all day, from the second you wake up until you fall dead asleep, and sometimes it feels like it’s for nothing. But what’s the alternative? Stop, and watch your barely-together life fall apart completely? No, you just have to get through this week. Just this week, and then you can rest until the next hard week.

You stack the last of the dishes on the drying rack, and your hand has barely left before the three on top slip off. You lunge forward on instinct, like you think you can catch them. You can’t. The crash is loud, but you barely hear it. You bring your hands to your face, cupping your mouth between your palms. Your horrified exhale blows hot air back onto your chin.

“Okay, it’s okay.” Sirius’ voice is soft, as is his touch on your shoulder, encouraging you back from the glass shards. “You’re alright, just be careful, yeah?”

“Fuck,” you say, and you try to laugh, but what comes out is a dry sob. “Oh my god, fuck me.”

“I think we’ve agreed now’s not a good time,” Sirius jokes, taking a dish towel and using it to scrape together the bigger pieces. “Do you have a broom, love?”

You shake yourself out of your stupor. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll grab it.”

You step over Sirius, and he makes a half-suppressed sound of alarm when you come too close to the glass but takes the dustpan when you hand it to him. You sweep up the glass, going farther than necessary from the site of the damage to ensure no one ends up with an impaled foot later on. Sirius dumps it in the trash.

“Thanks,” you tell him, trying to reorient. “Okay, I need to—”

“Oh, would you look at that,” Sirius cuts you off, going to the stove. “It appears I’ve put the kettle on. Must be habit. Sit and have a cup with me, doll?” You give him a look that says you know what he’s doing, and he shrugs like he doesn’t care. “Just for a few minutes. Please.”

You relent perhaps too easily, picking out mugs for the both of you and accompanying him to the living room. You curl up against the armrest of the couch, and Sirius settles in next to you, his thigh touching your hip. They’re your usual spots, but what’s not as routine is the arm he wraps around your shoulders, drawing you into his side. You sip at your tea as if you don’t notice. The warmth is soothing as it goes down your throat and seeps into your insides. Sirius turns on the TV, and it’s obvious by now that you’ve been lied to, he doesn’t intend to let you go after a few minutes, but you’re losing the will to hold him to it anyway. You let your head lie on his arm as he begins to trace slow, smooth shapes into your shoulder.

And though it feels nice, you say, “I don’t need you to coddle me.”

You feel Sirius shift to look down at you, and you tilt your head to meet his eyes. “But you’ll let me,” he says, “won’t you?”

You don’t know how to answer that. Sirius doesn’t seem to be waiting for one, pressing a casual kiss to your head and then focussing back on the screen, his doodles on your shoulder never faltering. You rest your head on him again, and you suppose that’s answer enough.

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thefrogdalorian · 19 days

Text

Nowhere Else To Run

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Despite the fact that sharing a cabin with you and Grogu on Nevarro has given him the peaceful life he was searching for, Din cannot escape the nightmares of his past which haunt him most nights.

Although he feels unworthy of your love, the only time things make sense is when you take him in your arms and dutifully put his pieces back together. Even on nights when he feels he does not deserve it.

Word Count: 3.4k ✯ Rating: Teen ✯ Content Warnings: ✯ PTSD, nightmares, descriptions of canon-typical violence, survivor's guilt, Din feeling unworthy of love, Din's violent past, reader's hands described as being smaller than Din's. Author's Note: I created my blog six months ago, so here is a little Din drabble to celebrate. Title is taken from 'All These Things That I've Done' by The Killers (which is so Din coded) and I also listened to 2 Rocking Chairs by Jon Bellion a lot recently, so that might have inspired some of this too! Really hope you enjoyed it and here's to many more months of Din Djarin brainrot ☺︎

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

On the nights he startles awake, haunted by the nightmarish, twisted visions of the worst things he has done, he is certain that he does not deserve you. With all his evil deeds laid bare as his mind plays cruel tricks on him, Din Djarin remains convinced that he could live a thousand lifetimes and never be worthy of your love.

His eyelids fly open as his bare, muscular chest heaves. His golden skin is covered with a sheen of sweat. Din raises a trembling hand to wipe the moisture from his furrowed brow. Disorientated and afraid in the darkness.

His sharpened senses, honed thanks to his previous life as a bounty hunter, begin to function with all the effectiveness which once led to him being deemed the best in the parsec. He cringes as he remembers his narcissism, disgusted by how dishonourable it was to take pride in such an epithet.

First, Din feels your presence at his side. A warm mass of flesh in the dark, coldness of the night. So close that he could reach out and touch you if only he were not petrified that doing so would shatter your beauty. He yearns to draw comfort from you. Yet, he is too afraid to bring you down to his level, to defile your splendour.

Then, Din hears your soft snores. Truthfully, the sweet sounds you make are not quite snores at all. Merely the even, shallow sounds which indicate that you are peacefully resting. He relaxes slightly, relieved that his unwanted awakening has not disturbed you.

Emboldened by your continued slumber, Din sits up and gazes at you. Your stunning features are barely illuminated by the faint moonlight which streams in through an ill-fitting blind, yet even such a simple glimpse leaves him overwhelmed by your beauty.

As he quietly watches you, Din wonders what he could have done to deserve you in a past life. He certainly is not worthy of you in this one.

How could someone as wicked and treacherous as he ever be worthy of the love you envelop him in each day of your lives?

The guilt creeps in, then. It snakes its horrifying tendrils around Din's entire being and suffocates him under the weight of his regret and his pain.

He feels guilty that he has even found himself in a position to receive love like this in the first place. Especially after everything he has done, all the pain he has caused and contributed to.

Din wonders whether it is cruel to keep you around. To have intertwined his life with yours in the way he has. Surely you deserve someone better than him.

Inviting you to move in with him changed so much for Din. It deepened and strengthened his relationship with you while opening him up to experiences he had missed for much of his life. How to share space with someone else, to show affection and receive it in return.

Sharing a bunk with someone for the first time meant Din could not continue outrunning his past. It was a race that had begun decades prior on the day he lost everything on Aq Vetina, a marathon which continued well into adulthood.

The race was almost won when Din took the job that changed his life and led him to Arvala-7 in the hunt for the bounty who eventually became his son.

Yet it wasn’t until Din found you that he had finally crossed the finish line.

He still remembered the horrified look in your eyes when he awoke for the first time in your presence, thrashing and screaming as the night terrors plagued him. Terrified by the haunting visions that made his past as vivid as though it was happening right before him.

The nightmares are indiscriminate when they strike. Extensive in their scope.

In slumber, Din is confronted with the shameful jobs he took from the most reprehensible individuals in the galaxy, reminded of the ego he once possessed.

He relives how readily he hunted people for his gain, collecting bounties without a care for who he hurt. Who was he to be the law? To be judge, jury and, on occasion, executioner? Din is pained at the memory of the life of sin he led.

Din sees the job on Alzoc III in harrowing detail. The unspeakable acts of violence he had a hand in. As much as he tries to downplay his role and blame the atrocities on the disgusting band of crooks he ran with at the time, deep down, Din knows that he was a willing participant in the barbarity.

He replays the moment when, in a cruel, unforgiving tone, the gold-helmeted woman he had always idolised coldly informed him that he was a Mandalorian no more. Din is tormented time and again by the knowledge that he rendered himself an apostate in the eyes of the people who saved him; who taught him how to live. Being a Mandalorian and swearing the Creed were the only things aside from violence Din had truly ever been successful at. Walking The Way of the Mandalore was the only thing which had brought him anywhere close to achieving inner peace.

But most chillingly of all, Din is reminded of the gravest transgression of his life. An act of cruelty he knows that he will never truly forgive himself for committing, for as long as he lives.

Night after night, Din is haunted by how he had given up the child you both adore beyond comparison, who sleeps peacefully next door, to the Empire for the measly sum of a camtono of Beskar.

Was that truly all Grogu’s life was worth?

Of course, Din knows that there is no sum in the entire galaxy which would prove comparable to how Grogu has enriched his life.

Even though Din has seen the error of his ways, as he thinks back across the decades and counts his mistakes, Din Djarin knows that he is not a good man.

Yet, somehow, he has found you.

You are the greatest blessing to happen to him, matched only by his son.

He thinks of the way you still look at him with such love in your eyes, even after knowing the atrocities he committed in a past life; it almost embarrasses him to be loved in such a manner.

Somehow, Din has secured your unconditional love. A fact which proves every now and then, both suns shine on a womp rat’s tail. That even the most undeserving of rodents can occasionally have the greatest of fortunes.

Even when the terrors overcome him, you have never contemplated deserting him. No matter how dark and disgraceful the visions he divulges to you are.

When he wakes up yelling for his parents or screaming for Grogu, whom he is momentarily convinced the Empire have recaptured, you are always there to reassure him and to hold him while he sobs; to kiss his pain away with a touch of your soft lips against his tear-streaked cheeks.

Even knowing all he has done, you still look at him as though he is responsible for hanging all the stars which twinkle in the sky above your cabin on Nevarro.

Din recalls evenings spent on the porch with you outside the unassuming cabin you share by the lava flats of Nevarro. Watching the sun set beneath the horizon as he holds your smaller hand in his, while he admires how your hands fit together as they rest on his lap. He thinks about how smooth your skin is there, how it is so unlike the calloused roughness of his own.

You are softness and humanity in the face of his wickedness.

A wave of nausea overcomes him. Din is stricken by an overwhelming urge to get away from you. To put some distance between himself and you before he corrupts you with his immorality once more.

He ponders that perhaps he will find some relief on the porch in the dead of night. A solitary figure, save for his thoughts and the ghosts that haunt him. Sitting in total silence, apart from the bugs which chirp in the distance, is an appealing prospect.

So Din slowly swings his legs off the edge of the bunk, careful not to disturb you. He cringes at the way the sheets rustle. It is a minor offence compared to the many sins Din has already committed. Still, he does not want to add disturbing your peace to that list.

He sighs in the darkness as he perches on the edge of the bunk, a forceful exhale which causes his shoulders to droop when he realises you are still sleeping soundly. Din is relieved that you are unaware of his distress.

He is tantalisingly close to the door when the moment of solace is cruelly snatched away. His careful steps across the wooden floor were evidently not soft enough.

The gentle sound of your voice cutting through the darkness stops him in his tracks. Din turns to face you.

“Din?” you whisper, voice thick and husky with sleep.

The wave of guilt that washes over him is immediate. It threatens to wash him away, to drown him.

“Go back to sleep, cyare,” Din shakily responds, hoping he sounds convincing to someone so attuned to his every mannerism.

“Did you have another nightmare?” you ask, clearly unconvinced by his display.

Din Djarin may be many things, but he is not a liar.

Even under the merciful cover of darkness, when he would not have to look you in the eye as he skirted around the truth, he cannot bring himself to lie to you.

“Yes,” Din finally responds. His voice cracks as he struggles under the pressure of admitting his weakness.

The light is on before he can protest, and you rise from the bed before he can insist that there is no need. Din blinks rapidly for a few seconds as his retinas adjust to the rude intrusion into the darkness.

When his eyes finally focus, you are standing right before him, already moving to gather him into your arms.

It is strange to him, this notion that he ever needed someone to pick him up and dutifully put his shattered pieces back together. A human needing repairs is an alien concept to Din Djarin. While he has always been adept at finding and fixing faults in his impressive arsenal and starships, he was never able to identify his weaknesses and repair himself. Until he found his Clan.

It wasn't until Din saved the kid that he realised he had been running from something for his entire life. Since that terrible day, when he watched over his father's shoulder as the bodies of his neighbours hit the dusty floor. Crumpled heaps, which used to be people until moments ago, were clad in the same distinctive red robes as him. The terror he felt as his parents ran through the streets, determined to save him, their only son.

On his worst days, Din wonders if their sacrifice was worthwhile. He frets over what they would think if they could see what became of their precious boy. Whether they would be disappointed to see the life he followed. A life of such violence, such mercilessness.

Your warm presence against him, as you take him into your arms, snaps him back to the present. Din willingly melts into your embrace, relishing the human contact.

“Talk to me, Din,” you whisper as you hold him to your chest.

When you run your fingers through his hair, he loses all composure and breaks down into small sobs. Din shudders in your arms as you trail soothing fingers through his hair with one hand and rub your hand in circles on his back with the other.

“I don’t deserve you,” he eventually murmurs, voice quivering.

Din feels the way you shake your head. You gently place your hand underneath his chin and tilt his face up. Din's eyes meet your gaze and he notices how your eyes are full of concern for him. He can hardly look at you, feeling mortified at being studied like this.

Allowing himself to be vulnerable like this is still so fresh to him. To have his soul laid bare like this is uncomfortable and unnatural.

“You are not the worst things you have ever done, Din,” you whisper as you gently wipe the tears he was unable to prevent trailing a hot path down his cheek with your fingertips, “You cannot change the past. I know that you are a good man, Din, and I love you. All of you. You would not be the man that I adore without those parts of you. For better or worse, they shaped you into the man you are today.”

Din trembles under your gaze, under the weight of your words. Unsure whether he can allow himself to accept the unconditional love you offer so readily to him, time and again.

The tears stream steadily down his cheeks, as you continue to soothe his soul:

“In you, I see a caring father. A considerate man who will do anything to protect his Clan. A fearless Mandalorian warrior who has turned his fighting prowess towards a more noble endeavour. To rid the galaxy of any threats, to build a better life for your son. That is an honourable undertaking, Din.”

“I am not an honourable man,” he scoffs, instantly rebutting such a compliment. He is far too undeserving of such praise.

“You are,” you sigh, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. There is such tenderness in your gaze and in how you touch him that he struggles to keep his emotions at bay. His bottom lip trembles at your next words, “Your life is not defined by your most evil deeds. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I adore you, Din. There is so much of you that is loveable.”

Din sighs. In his current mental state, he is unable to believe your words. Unable to let them sink in, to find solace in your reassurances. He looks away from you, shaking his head in a silent response.

When he finally feels able to find your gaze again, he watches as something shifts in your eyes. A tether of patience snaps.

There is a firmness in your tone the next time you address him.

“Do you know how empty our lives would be without you? How much the little boy in the other room adores you?" you plead in an exasperated tone. "He’s asleep right now, surrounded by a mountain of plushies that his father bought for him because even though you intimidate most you come into contact with thanks to your appearance, I have seen firsthand that, beneath your armour, you have a pure heart. And you are wrapped around each one of his little green talons.”

At the mention of his son, Din cannot help the way his lips curve upwards, the ghost of a smile crossing against his features. A welcome respite from the tortured look he has worn since he awoke from his nightmare.

“Grogu adores you, Din. He idolises you. You would do anything to secure his happiness,” you nod, “And mine. How lucky am I to know a love like that?”

“I do love you," Din nods, "And I’m going to spend the rest of my life taking care of both of you,” Din vows, the cracks in his voice replaced with steely determination.

Din notices the way you seem to loosen at his words, knowing that the man you know and love is gradually returning to you. His insecurities and devastation have been replaced by his determination to protect you from anything in the galaxy which could harm you.

“Then, let’s get some more rest, honey,” you whisper as you press a soft kiss onto Din’s stubbly cheek.

Din nods and laces his fingers with yours, allowing you to lead him the few steps back to the bunk you share. He slides underneath the covers, watching you as you round the bunk to join him. Once you have slid beneath the sheets, you turn the light off and plunge the room back into darkness.

Yet, the darkness which permeated every atom of Din Djarin’s being has vanished. He can only see the light now. The way your love illuminates every part of his life. How unrelenting, yet not overbearing, the way you adore him is.

Especially when you gently encourage him to roll over on his side so you can wrap your arms around his tight waist and nuzzle into the centre of his back. Your nose and mouth nestled between his broad shoulders.

Din lets out a sigh of contentment.

In your arms, there is tranquillity. The necessary remedy which soothes his anguished spirit.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Later, when Grogu is finally sleeping soundly after another long day of being doted on by his parents, Din finally makes it to his intended destination. Although he tried to reach the porch in the middle of the night, he would rather be here now. Especially since you are by his side, sitting next to him. It is a moment of rest after a hectic day spent entertaining a hyperactive Force-sensitive toddler with a voracious appetite.

With your presence in his life, Grogu has only continued to flourish. Din’s chest swells with pride as he thinks of his son's progress and all the milestones he has reached. Din knows that being a good father to Grogu is the most important role he will ever fulfil. He treats it with as much seriousness as such a responsibility warrants.

But Grogu is asleep.

Now, it is just Din and you. He smiles as he looks at your hands together, and appreciates how your fingers are intertwined. Din relishes the comfort he draws from your physical presence. He feels soothed by the knowledge that he has hidden nothing from you, that you can still love him regardless of his past transgressions.

Din looks out across the landscape towards the rolling volcanic hills of Nevarro, dusted a pale pink and orange colour in the fading light of dusk. He thinks about how he will grow old with you here in this little cabin. If fate grants him such an honour.

He cannot help but smile as he thinks about how you will sit out here on this very porch, holding hands with each other. When his patchy facial hair is flecked with grey and even when it is entirely white. When the wrinkles on his face are as lined and drawn as the crevices which scar the surface of Nevarro. Perhaps Grogu will be old enough to run around by then. Maybe he will have gained the gift of speech.

Regardless, even many rotations from now, Din knows with absolute certainty that he will still think you are the most beautiful sight in the galaxy. Even after years of adoring each other, he will still wonder how he was ever so lucky to be worthy of your love.

Din is excited to spend the rest of his life proving to you that he is the good man you repeatedly inform him you still see, even amongst all his flaws. It is a heavy task, yet one he relishes. Love had terrified him for so much of his life. When he discovered its beauty, he was determined to make up for lost time.

It is a heavy thought that he may never exhaust his capacity and reach the depths of all the love he has realised he possesses.

For now, though, Din turns his head to look at you, a soft smile lighting up his face as the sunset illuminates his features. The colour has returned to his cheeks. You return the gesture, gently sweeping your thumb across the back of his hand.

In the fading light, your face glows golden, only accentuating your beauty. Din wonders again how he was ever so lucky to know a love like this.

Except now, he does not doubt that he deserves it.

Now, Din Djarin allows his chest to be flooded with the warmth he feels when he embraces your love.

He accepts it, even after all the things that he’s done.

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #din djarin angst #pedro pascal characters #my fics #cannot believe it has already been 6 months where does time go eh!

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frogchiro · 8 months

Note

okay wait why am i now just hearing about butcher/slasher ghost, and why am i foaming at the mouth!!!???! like ripping apart pillows, tearing down walls, doing flips—RAHHH i am officially OBSESSED!!

i read it and thought of texas chainsaw massacre, but it’s the 2006 one so like simon is an absolute menace but he sees a pretty lady who’s new to town and his cold killer heart just can’t help but swoon :((( and she’s so polite, nervous, and timid because it’s so different in this town and simon with his cursed blessed keen sense of smell

OH MY GOD BUT SLASHER GRAVES IN A SMALL TOWN DOWN IN TEXAS!!!?

so sorry if this is a lot!! 😣 i’m just a little obsessed 🤭🤭 either way, have an amazing day!! stay hydrated and make sure to eat 🩷🩷

HOW THE FUCK DID I NEVER THINK OF SLASHER GRAVES

My dear, I know that you probably expected Butcher!Ghost but I'm highjacking this ask now and writing slasher Graves because oh my god-

The setting I imagine to be in a small southern town in Texas, and I imagine it to be like one of those creepy, small southern gothic towns with the old abandoned churches, houses and old beaten up signs that say "His return is near" or "God is watching you", you get the idea.

And there we have Philip Graves who owns a big ranch passed down for generations in his family, and by big I mean HUGE. Enormous pastures, corn fields, cows, horses, pigs and all that which means he and his name is quite well know in the area which admittedly makes his...hobby a lot easier than you'd think. Graves has friends in high places and he's buddy buddy with the town's sheriff, basically the golden child of the town which means that both the police and the sheriff will turn a blind eye to the "sudden disappearances" of people, be it locals or newcomers to town.

But the thing is that Philip Graves is bored. Bored out of his mind and nothing seems to excite him anymore, not even the desperate hysterical screams of his victims do the thing anymore. Sure he definitely has the money, the looks that refined well with age, he's respected and liked in the community but the truth is-he doesn't give a shit about it.

I imagine that Slasher!Graves is an incredibly arrogant man, and while he may put on a pleasant facade, his accent a thick and purring drawl and his southern charm do the trick he's a whimsical and capricious prick who gets easily bored and when he does...Well let's just say that it doesn't end pretty.

So imagine how surprised he was when he was in town once in his pickup truck, cowboy hat low on his brow as he watched the cars go by when suddenly his eyes were caught by a bus, one of those that travel for very long distances and the only person who got out was you. To say that Philip's interest was piqued would be an understatement; what's a pretty soft little thing like you doing in this bumfuck nowhere in Texas?

A pretty young lady, seemingly around 20, who looked like a lost little lamb, but just what were you doing here? Everything about you screamed that you're obviously not from here and while he could see even from a distance that you tried to act confident, his sharp blue eyes saw right through that act-you were scared shitless and more than lost. Were you here to visit someone? Or maybe...you are running from something? Whatever the case was, you definitely caught his attention in more than one way.

You just looked...so soft, so pretty, lovely he'd even say and I'm sorry but this Graves that we're talking about would definitely be a little misogynistic :(( He's old fashioned, maybe it comes with his age or maybe due to how his pa raised him but the further he observed you the more he he couldn't help but think about how such a pretty young lady like yourself should be married off already to a nice gentleman, getting provided for like you deserve and in return takin' care of your husband too; bringing him beer, cookin' and popping out a kid or two :((

His train of thoughts got interrupted only by a loud booming voice calling out his name cheerfully and when he turned around annoyed to see who was interrupting him, it turned out to be old Michael, an old friend of his pa. He greeted him politely but when he turned around to watch you a little more it turned out that you already wandered off, sneaky girl.

Philip cursed under his breath but on the other hand he decided to just ask the sheriff about you since he knows that the man has access to all the information about any newcomers to town. It looks like his bored streak came to an end <3

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #this is literally godsend #slasher!Graves #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #philip graves

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luveline · 1 year

Note

hotch baby blurb about the other members of the bau figuring out they’re dating/nearly dating,, reader as a bau member maybe and like he’s just a bit more protective on cases, always watching her and things, or letting her ride shotgun in the car, or bringing her coffee,, you’re a fantastic writer and i have a burning love for aaron hotchner <3

Thank you, and thank you for requesting lovely!!

It's Aaron's fault that the team find out. It happens on a case. Serial killer, Philadelphia, three days and counting. You don't share a hotel room, you haven't kissed in two days and sixteen hours, and you're honestly going a little crazy. You call shotgun and he drives. Emily and Morgan trade theories in the seat behind.

"It's clearly psycho sexual," Morgan says.

"And clearly a white male," Emily adds.

"The sophistication–" You begin.

"Clearly older. Late 40's."

You glares at him playfully, too playfully considering you're in company of your colleagues, but he's getting too big for his boots — he's admitted that he cuts you off because he knows it irks you and that he likes how your brows pinch together when you're mad. He's flirting with you, and he isn't as casual as he thinks he is.

"You're so rude," you lament. You shouldn't, but Emily and Morgan are still talking.

"Were you saying something?" he asks.

"False apology doesn't suit you, Hotchner–"

"Mm, and what does?"

Your lips part in shock. "Hotch."

He laughs, and it's his fault; he laughs, and Emily and Morgan fall silent. You're about to clear your throat and reinstate the professionalism you're both sorely lacking but Aaron has not gotten the memo, he reaches across the console, his hand drops onto your knee, and he squeezes it like he always does when you're haunting his passenger seat outside of work.

It's too bad you are not outside of work.

"Oh, handsome," you murmur, pitying.

Funnily, it's your use of a pet name that snaps him out of it. He stills completely, eyes glued to the road, and slowly, slowly, removes his hand.

"...Garcia owes me so much money," Morgan says jovially.

You're so relieved that it isn't you (you'd both thought, undoubtedly, that you'd be the one to give it away, because Aaron is usually an impassive wall of stone) that you can't find it in yourself to be generous.

"It wasn't me," you gloat, tone light with awe. "I can't believe it wasn't me. What did you say to me? You said–"

"I know what I said, Agent." There's a slight hint of hoarseness to his chiding.

"Don't be shy, Hotch," Emily says. "We're all friends here."

"Some of us a little more than that," Morgan adds. Their amusement is crystal clear.

Aaron clenches his jaw. You reach right on over and stroke his tensed muscle, because the cat is out of the bag. You worry for a moment, and then his lips quirk up into a reluctant smile.

"I can't believe it was me," he says. You pat his cheek.

#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x gn!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fic

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srvbryn · 3 months

Note

Hey, whoever requested the last one did great but now it's my turn, I can ask for the same thing in a Luke Jealous mission but in my case it would be Dark Luke.

Luke Castellan. If I kill someone for you

Dark!Luke Castellan X Aphrodite!Daughter!Reader

Summary: talking with you is one thing, but flirting? The audacity of a man.

Reader and Luke are not in a relationship.

Warning: 16+, obsessive behavior, Luke is a pervert, canon universe, non-canon quest, Reader doesn't have a lot of dialogues, original character(s), not beta read, one shot, no smut obv, issues, jealousy, I wrote this instead of sleeping, GDoV, murdering, Luke is a killer, a murderer and a man known for his beauty 🤭🤭, Luke can't stop yapping 🤷, implied manipulation, ooc, cnc

3 posts in a day? Shockers, I'm a champ now mom 💯

A/n: since some of the requests are "Jealous Luke" and "Dark Luke" I decided to merge it into one! Also feel free to request other characters. Fyi, you can request Bianca/Leo/Nico/Will/Etc & gender! It can be M/F/Non-bi , you can choose which gods you want to be the godly parent too 🎀 I don't have a life and I'm free 24/7

One thing that Luke Castellan knows about you is that you are most likely Aphrodite's favourite daughter, - you shine so brightly that others are drawn to you, you're gorgeous and everyone knows that.

He, himself, can't help but worries his own obsession with you has turned worse since the past few years since he first saw you.

He starts stealing your belongings, particularly your undergarments. It was supposed to be a normal thing, like stealing your pen and your used shirt, but when he saw the laundry basket next to your bed, he couldn't help but reach for your pretty pink frilly panties.

He was glad he always wore cargo trousers. It's easy to hide your undergarments that way - a smirk appeared on his face at the thought of it.

Fortunately, no one was present when he left the Aphrodite Cabin. That is, until he heard Chris call his name. "Hey man - Mr.Chiron called us for another teammate's quest selection".

"Oh? Let's go," he says with a forced smile.

Well that was a few days ago and now he's stuck with a dude from Apollo Cabin and most importantly he's stuck with you.

He extended his hand. "(Name), isn't it?" he asked. "Camp Half Blood golden boy isn't it?" You tease.

Luke's gaze darted around the forest clearing, and he blushed; he hadn't realised your hand was shaking his extended hand.

Ethan Calixto. He's such a sight for sore eyes. Flirting with you in front of Luke. 'The audacity of a man', he thought to himself.

He pursed his lips, a slight furrow between his brows as he stared pointedly at Ethan, and with an icy coldness.

"We're here to go on a quest, not flirt," he scoffed.

If Luke had wanted to, he would have killed Ethan. Oh my gods, he has so many ideas, but his favourite is definitely killing the poor dude!

To show how satisfying it was to watch Ethan slowly slide against the wall with his back, leaving straight, thick red lines behind. His trembling mouth was trying to say something. He vomited a lot of blood, and the light reflections on his irises faded away.

But that was just one of his million ideas and he isn't trying to spend his time on a dude who's not worthy of your present.

Being Aphrodite's daughter does not imply that you are only an expert in Amokinesis, beauty, and French. You might just be Athena's daughter, based on the way you make plans.

Ethan, in an attempt to impress you, denies your plans and instead devises a terrible plan that he believes is a good idea. Luke dismisses, "Just because you can doesn't mean you should".

Now that irritates Luke. Ethan's ideas were terrible, but since this is his quest, you simply accept them, and Luke follows your lead, not without considering murdering Ethan in a different way.

★

Luke's eyes flickered with irritation, but he maintained composure. "Charisma is just one aspect of a successful quest. Cooperation is equally crucial."

As preparations began, tension lingered in the air. During another strategy meeting, Ethan emphasized his ideas, seemingly ignoring Luke's input. The latter bit his tongue, suppressing his desire to straight up murdering Ethan.

In the forest, while navigating a maze of twists and turns, Ethan made a questionable decision. Luke couldn't hold back any longer. "Ethan, are you sure about this path? It seems risky," he suggested, his patience wearing thin.

Ethan waved him off. "Relax, Castellan. I've got it under control. Your input isn't necessary."

The words stung, but Luke remained composed. You observed the escalating tension between the two. Luke, determined to prioritize the mission, restrained himself from confronting Ethan directly.

Ethan, with a sly grin, addressed Luke. "Castellan, do you have any issues with how I'm leading this quest?"

Luke sighed, choosing his words carefully. "I just think we should work together more closely. It's about teamwork, not individual glory."

Ethan chuckled condescendingly. "Teamwork, huh? Maybe if you were more decisive, we wouldn't need this discussion."

That causes Luke to snap. While you were sleeping like a sleeping beauty, Luke took advantage of the opportunity to photograph you with the stolen phone he was holding.

"For the latter," he thought to himself, chuckling.

Given that Ethan is also sleeping at the moment, Luke decides to murder him. Why? Because he was a nuisance standing in the way. One thing was certain: Luke was glad he asked Demeter's son for a poison plant a few weeks ago. He used the excuse of wanting to study about it.

Hemlock a relatively common plant that has been used to execute criminals throughout history, most notably the Greek philosopher Sokrates in 399 BC. By pulverizing the fruit after shelling it, then spread a thin layer of the powder over a cup of water. It takes approximately 0.5 grammes to kill an adult.

How would he die? It paralyses the spinal cord starting at the feet, and he dies within 30 minutes to 5 hours. What's the cause? Respiratory paralysis occurs while fully conscious.

And that was something Luke Castellan enjoyed about murdering. This is his third victim, and he's only 19 years old, but who are the gods to judge his actions?

"are you awake yet?" He said with bitterness. Ethan's groggy eyes snapped to Luke as he realised he was tied to a tree.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Ethan yelled out. "Hmm? I wonder what I'm doing." Luke ponders.

Luke smiled as Ethan struggled to free himself from the tree. "You shouldn't do that y'know, you're letting out too much noise to my liking"

Luke continues, "I thought Apollo's children were known for their foresight? Can't you see your future? I thought you were smart.."

"Shut the hell up Castellan, my dad's going to murder you!" Ethan's voice was strained as he yelled at Luke.

The realisation dawned on him, "fuck" Ethan cursed, and he lost feeling in his legs.

"What did you do to me, monster?" he spit out. "Oh I don't know just some Hemlock" Luke says with a grin, "I can't wait to see you die in a few hours!" He said that with a crazy look on his face.

"FUCK YOURSELF CASTELLAN"

Luke quickly returned to you and noticed you rubbing your eyes. "Good morning sleeping beauty, did you get a good night's sleep?" Luke teases.

You groaned, "What time is it?".

"It's only 2am way too early for you y'know go back to sleep."

You look around your surroundings and notice that Ethan is not with you. "Where's Ethan?" You speak up.

"nothing you should worry about, I think he's just taking a dump somewhere" said Luke with a laugh.

You chuckle nervously, noticing Luke's facial cuts and bruises. You decide not to be a busy body, you simply return to sleep, which Luke appreciates.

"good girl" he grinned.

Waiting for a few hours was boring, so Luke decided to visit Ethan again because why not? It's enjoyable just to see the man cry out in pain.

Luke quickly made his way deeper into the forest, noting that there were no signs of yelling or grunting. "oh? dead already that was fast."

Of course, he didn't want the cops and detectives prying into his life, so he sloppily buried Ethan near the trees, removing all traces of human presence.

He wasn't Demeter's child, so he doesn't know how to properly bury someone, and he couldn't care less about Ethan fucking Calixto.

Now he can have you all to himself, with no one to disrupt your interaction. It was finally 7 a.m., and the sun was casting a warm glow as you rose, just like a sun god would.

"Luke?" You groaned. "Hmm?" He sat there with food in front of him: toast with a sunny side egg. "Is that food or am I in heaven?" You make jokes.

"I cook this for you being the eldest makes me a great cook," he says, flashing his perfect pearly white teeth to you.

You immediately felt at ease and decided to sit next to him and eat your food quietly.

"I wonder where Ethan is?" You ponder.

"Are you not charmed by my present that you need another man?" He snapped. Oh, oh his bad side is beginning to emerge.

"w-what no! I'm worried because he chose us for this quest to keep him safe and fight alongside him." You explained.

1 minutes.

Another 4 minutes have passed.

Making it 5 minutes already and Luke Castellan is not helping.

It is beginning to bother you that he did not look for Ethan. What if he died due to your incompetence? What if he was killed by a bear while sleeping? But. When was Luke ever asleep? He couldn't possibly have murdered Ethan, could he?

"don't worry your pretty head" he finally breaks the silence.

"what did you do to him?" You muttered. "Ethan? Oh not so much" he said softly trying not to scare you.

Your tears were threatening to fall any second now. "D-did you k-kill him?" You gulp. "Maybe," he smiles, placing his hand on your cheeks.

His hands make you all soft and putty. "I know you're scared, my sweet girl." He presses a kiss on top of your head. "I will take care of you. You do not need to do anything. Okay?"

He's such a sweet talker that you're worried you'll excuse the fact that he murdered someone. You don't even mind the fact that his hands are engulfing your thighs, palms running up and down the exposed skin in mindless motions.

His brown eyes are staring at you. "Can I kiss you?" He asked. You may have been scared, but that did not stop you from mindlessly nodding.

After all, you were a little messed up in the head, just like him.

#luke pjo #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #charlie bushnell #oc #pjo tv show #pjo series #non canon #pjo #pjo fandom #pjo fanfic #chris rodriguez

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am-i-interrupting · 1 month

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Hello! I really love your work, I just HAD to pop in your inbox after seeing your fics about Alastor's daughter.

What if Alastor's daughter is an angel that is scared of demons.

Like, when they were alive, Alastor's daughter used to be such a sweet child and I mean SWEET. Would never hurt a soul. Though she got killed at a young age because of envious children her age, left her in the forest to scare her but she got mauled by wolves and died.

Before she died, she was aware of Alastor's killings but she wouldn't speak up because she was too scared. IMAGINE ALASTOR BEING SUCH A LOVING DAD BUT ALL SHE CAN THINK ABOUT IS WHAT IF SHES NEXT IF SHE FUCKS UP AROUND HIM.

And he's not aware that she thinks that way. So when Sera sent her to investigate the Hazbin Hotel (to see if Charlie's theory is really true) she sees Alastor and gets tense even though he's so sincere around her.

How would everything gooo omg I'd like to see how creative you'll get!!

You never hurt a soul and that’s what helped you get into heaven.

You loved your father. You did but you were also terrified of him.

He was a serial killer, a murderer, and even if he tucked you into bed at night and made the best food, you could still be next.

You felt guilty the day he died because while you were heartbroken you were also so relieved.

You confessed to the police his sins as soon as they came to the house to break the news of his death.

You were crying, choking on tears as you told them everything.

It was the best and worst day of your life.

Despite that, life remained difficult for you.

People were cruel and mean and heartless and you died before the age of twenty.

You made it to Heaven.

You were a top winner, one revered for their kindness.

That’s how you got asked by Sera to go to Hell to observe Charlie’s idea first hand. Her being too untrusting of the angels to not start killing and “sanitizing” Hell as soon as they got there.

You were excited. You met Charlie while she was in Heaven.

She was somewhat of a kindred spirit. You got on with her well.

(Alastor actually does reminisce over you and his mother both in Hell. The lyric “You’re like a child that I wish that I had” in Hells Greatest Dad would have been changed to “You’re like the child which I used to have.”)

You went through the portal with her and Vaggie.

Both girls seemed conflicted, something must have happened during the meeting they had with the angels but Charlie quickly put on a smile and started explaining what everything was.

When you get to the Hotel, you seem him. You never thought you’d see your father again. You weren’t sure you wanted to even if you missed him. You immediately froze.

His brows furrowed as he looked at you before his smile widened, sharp teeth replacing the human ones you once knew but they were still coffee-stained.

“Is that my darling angel?” he asked as he walked towards you. “My dear, look how you’ve grown.”

He used the tips of his fingers to angle your face towards him and you couldn’t pull away. You were frozen in place, looking at him with wide eyes.

“You two know each other?” Charlie asked.

“Why yes, we do indeed,” Alastor said. “You recall I mentioned having a child.”

“Oh my god! Oops, sorry. Don’t use the lord’s name in vain and all. But this is so great!”

“Yeah,” you said meekly. “So great.”

Alastor would notice something wrong. He remembers your behaviors well. He’d try to make you comfortable while unknowingly pressing your buttons more.

Everyone else also notices something wrong, except Niffty.

Sir Pentious and Charlie likely think you’re just anxious and try to make you feel as comfortable and welcomed as possible.

Vaggie assumes it’s because you’re in Hell.

Husk and Angel realize it’s because Alastor’s there.

The two team up to make sure you’re never ever left completely alone.

They even manage to pull you away for a bit.

Husk offers some good advice and true silence not filled with the background of a radio crackling.

Angel let’s you bury your head in his fluff.

#alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader

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ddejavvu · 9 months

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hi i love your writing!! can i request hotch x reader where he did a press conference or something on the news (i just watched the halloween one in s10 he looked fiiiine) and then reader runs into him in public and recognises him ty in advance

Perhaps you should have taken his casual attire as a sign that he wasn't on duty, but you can't stop yourself from blanching at the sight of the man stepping up to the counter before you. Hotchner was his name? Agent Hotchner?

"You're the man from the news," You blurt, before he's even able to get his coffee order out. He looks somewhat taken aback, dark eyes widened slightly, and you're sure it's not often that he's ambushed by his baristas, and you clear your throat, "I- sorry, I just- I saw you last night on tv."

"Our press conference," He's skilled at overlooking your awkward interjection, nodding with the hint of a smile on his face, "I'm glad you were tuned in to the news and stayed safe."

"Did you catch him?" You ask, coffee long forgotten. You'd been a nervous wreck at the announcement of a serial killer in your town, a real serial killer killing real people like you, and you almost hadn't shown up for work today out of anxiety.

"We did," He nods, "He's safely locked away. And he will be for a long time, I promise."

"Thank you," You breathe, palpable relief in your tone, "Thank you, I- I can't even imagine how scary it must be to chase after people like that, but thank you for doing it."

His brows raise and his eyes flood with gratitude, something you hope is visible in your own gaze. Evidently, he doesn't get this very often.

"It's my job," He smiles fully now, settling into his place at the counter as customers come and go on either side of him, "There's no need to thank me."

"It's a job you chose," You counter, "I was really- it was scary, thinking that he was out there. That I might be next, that my friend might, that my mom might. I do need to thank you for that."

"You're safe now," He promises, and something about the honey-sweet tone of voice he uses makes you truly believe it.

"I'm sorry for holding you up," You apologize after a beat of comfortable silence, refocused on the screen in front of you, "What can I get for you, sir?"

"A medium coffee. Black, please." He recites, "And a cheese, egg, and ham sandwich, if you've still got any."

"That'll be all?" You verify, punching his order into the computer. He nods with a smile, already pulling out his wallet.

"Oh, no sir," You clear his total, pulling from your tip jar to cover the cost of his order, "I'd feel guilty for charging you. You helped a lot of people, your order is free."

"I insist-" He tries, moving his card towards the scanner, but you tug the appliance away.

"I insist," You stand your ground, "Please, I'm going to be able to get home safely tonight thanks to you, I have no problem giving you a free coffee."

"A sandwich, too." He reminds you, "You're very kind, but I can't take free food. Please, let me pay for one of the items?"

"My treat." You slide bills into the register, triumphant when his shoulders sag and a sheepish smile overtakes his face as he slides his card back into his wallet.

"Thank you," He returns your gratitude, eyes the color of his coffee somehow sweeter than sugar "I appreciate it. I meant it before, you're very kind."

You're happy that the breakfast sandwiches are stored behind you, because it gives you a chance to hide the way your face contorts into a bashful grin as you prepare his order. Now that the fear of being attacked is out of your head, you're able to marvel at the man's looks, something you'd tried tamping down to focus on bigger issues at hand. A smile suits him, and so does a t-shirt and jeans, and you're glad you got to see a side of him that isn't grim and grey.

"Thank you," He beams when you return with his order, simple enough that you'd made it while he stood at your register, "Have a great rest of your day."

"You too, sir." You nod, trying not to react when his fingertips brush your hand, and you applaud yourself for keeping your composure until he's safely out of the building.

That same composure breaks when you're emptying your tip jar for the day, counting out each bill to stuff them in your wallet and grocery shop for the week. A wad of them falls out that you're fairly certain you didn't see anyone drop off, and it's revealed to be three $20 bills with a stiff piece of cardstock in the middle.

You're momentarily horrified that someone dropped the wrong amount in, put in the contents of their wallet when they meant to leave a $5, but the name on the card hits you like a semi-truck.

SSA Aaron Hotchner.

Damn that man, he must have slipped the cash into your jar while your back was turned. You'd been trying to save him $7 for the coffee and the sandwich, and he treated you to a cart of groceries instead.

You flip the card to find his number, not sure if you're brave enough to call and give him a speech that's half thankful and half scolding. But there's pen scrawled on the back, and you squint to read the print.

'Don't try returning the tip, I won't take it back. Thank you for being so kind, and if you ever need a favor, you know who to call. - Agent Hotchner'

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #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

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ruskaroma · 9 months

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First time with John Wick plssssssssssssssssssss

I truly think that the first time with John would be loving yet rough. I’m sorry, but that’s just how I paint him out to be.

He’s a killer, so it’s no surprise that his hands are naturally heavy and rough. He would touch your body with those large, dangerous hands, forever tainting it with his cruelty and brutality, making you submit yourself to his mercy.

For a man with few words, John sure does have his ways to make you shake and crumble under his touch while he says the most filthy, diabolical shit that could make even the devil blush. For some reason, he just finds you so beautiful wrecked and fucked that he can’t keep his words to himself.

The first time the two of you had sex, it was because he was jealous. You knew he was jealous but he didn’t admit that he was, and that was enough answer for you to get fucked as soon as the two of you arrived at your apartment.

It was a miracle that you managed to make him come with you to a company party even though all he did all night was stand beside you like he’s your bodyguard. Well, in a sense, he was your bodyguard, but his particular outfit that night got your co-workers wondering how the hell you were able to afford one.

John had kept his hand on the small of your back the majority of the night, like that was enough to show everybody that he was not only your bodyguard but also your very loving boyfriend who tolerated everyone in that room just for you.

But when he left to go to the bathroom and came back to a sight of another man being too friendly to you, John only realized that the whole “hand on the back” wasn’t enough to shoo those motherfuckers away.

John settled himself beside you again, but this time, he made sure to wrap his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to his warmth, pretending like the other man beside you wasn’t there, because John could really not bother to care.

“Have I left you for too long?”

“What?” You furrowed your brows, confused.

John didn’t answer after that, but he did glance at the man who was already staring at him and his actions the moment he arrived. He also didn’t introduce himself, the man simply didn’t deserve it.

“Uh, is he your boyfriend?” The man interjected, and you felt John’s fingers twitch gripping your waist.

“Oh–uh, yeah, he is,” you replied sheepishly, then turning your head to smile tightly at John who was just raising a brow at you. “You probably thought he was my bodyguard, eh? Everyone’s been saying that the moment we arrived.”

“Yeah, I thought that, too,” he laughed awkwardly.

The conversation soon died out. Maybe it had something to do with the man just feeling really awkward because he truly didn’t know John was your boyfriend, or maybe it had something to do with the fact that John had been staring at him dead in the eyes threateningly while you weren’t looking.

When the two of you were on your way home, John had been dead silent with his hand on your thigh the only thing indicating that he’s not as mad as he made himself out to be and he was just really jealous. You know a jealous man when you see one, you just didn’t think you’d see John being jealous first hand.

“Come on, babe, you really not going to speak?” You whined from your seat, grabbing his rough hand to your softer ones as you placed a kiss on the back of it. When you didn’t get a reaction, you pouted childishly. “Jooohhnnnn. Babeeeeee. Babyyyyy.”

John still didn’t react. He kept his eyes on the road.

“You’re for real ignoring me because you’re jealous? Really, John? Bit childish, isn’t it?”

Then, his eyes narrowed as he ripped his focus on the road and onto yours. “I’m not jealous.”

“So that gets you talking?”

“Because I’m not jealous.”

“Sure, sure.” You nodded your head like you’re convinced, and you saw John turned his attention back on the road again. You took this opportunity to continue poking at him. “I mean, it was kinda your fault that he assumed I was single.”

John hit the brakes too hard than usual at the red light, and that was enough to prove your theory that he was, in fact, jealous.

He looked at you offended, and it was kinda hard to believe that you were getting to see that expression on his face first hand considering he rarely ever shows any emotions.

“You know I’m not very big on PDA,” he grumbled under his breath. “I thought my hand on your back was enough. Clearly he didn’t get the memo.”

“So you are jealous?”

Again, he didn’t respond. For a very dangerous well known assassin, John was sure as hell a bit childish when it came to you, but you liked that about him. That only meant he trusted you enough to feel vulnerable around you, show you a side of him he never showed to any one else.

John parked his car in the parking lot and the two of you walked in comfortable silence. You had your arm tangled with his, walking side by side until you reached the elevator. It was only then you had felt the touch of his hand on your ass.

“Well, well, well… Is John Wick finally making the first move?”

Maybe teasing him was a bad idea, because your smirk was immediately wiped off when you’re thrown against the wall and creating a loud bang.

“John, holy shit, I don’t wanna pay for the damage–”

“Shut up,” he growled under his breath, ducking his face down and inhaling your scent, opening his mouth to suck the skin, his sharp teeth bruising your neck that you yelped and wrapped your arms around his broad back.

“J–John, please don’t fuck me here–I wanna get fu–fucked on a real bed for our first time–”

Before he could even answer, the elevator’s door opened and he hauled himself off you in a matter of seconds. An old woman walked in, not bothering to look at the two of you as she pressed on the button to go up. You’re one floor above, you and John were just sharing side glances the entire ride.

When you reached your floor, John was the one to grip your wrist and pull you out of the elevator, already getting your keys in his suit pocket while you trip and giggle following behind him.

“I’m so excited–”

“I’m glad you find this amusing.”

“Are you kidding? I’m about to get fucked by my boyfriend for the first time in our relationship, of course I’m excited.”

Once John opened the door, he pushed you inside in no time and slammed it behind him. “Who said anything about fucking you?”

“What?” You pouted, growing confused.

“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you don’t deserve my cock?”

And instantly, you flushed at the words that came out of his mouth that you couldn’t reply anything other than a gasp when he launched himself forward and pressed his lips to you. His beard tickled your chin as his hands went behind your thighs, lifting you off the floor and wrapped your legs around his body.

“I was holding myself back for so long, I was doing so well, I was waiting for the moment to fuck you in a bed of roses like you deserve, but that guy just had to come in and ruin all my self control,” John said against your mouth, pressing his hard cock in his pants against your already wet cunt as he slammed you against the wall.

“I d–don’t want a bed of roses anyways,” you breathed, moaning at the feeling of his hot, throbbing crotch against your own, wanting nothing but to just pull it out and shove it inside you and ride him all night long, but it seemed like John had another idea of how the night would go. “Please, John, just–just fuck me, come on, I know you want to–”

“I don’t like how that guy was looking at you earlier. Like you were some piece of meat,” he nipped at your neck, you felt another wave of wetness drip out of you just from his voice. “Just want to mark you up, bruise your neck and body just so everyone would know you’re fucking mine–”

“Oh god–”

And that’s how you found yourself with legs spread on the bed with John between them. His right hand was around your throat, his other was gripping your hair hard, and his cock was pounding in and out of you like there was no tomorrow.

He’s so fucking big – so huge, so large, Jesus Christ – and you swore you were squealing like a pig. Your cunt was so sloppy and wet, the sound of your wetness squelching around John’s cock was making you so dizzy and lightheaded, not to mention when he was tightening the hand around your throat every few seconds, you were keening and moaning like a whore as you rambled all your dirty thoughts.

“Oh god–oh god, John, please–please, you feel s–so good–” you moaned, nails digging at his back as the bedpost slammed against the wall with each thrust. “Wanted–wanted this for s–so long. So big and huge and–fuck, I’m gonna–”

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” John commented, letting his eyes wander between your bodies as he watched his thick cock plummeling inside your tight little cunt, clit puffy and sore from him sloppily eating you out earlier and he couldn’t be any more proud. You were so sensitive and reactive, every touch delivered a noise out of you. “Cum on my cock, princess. Make a mess all over my dick and I’ll fill you up so deep you’ll feel me until the next week.”

That was the line that threw you over the edge. Head thrown back and screaming, you held onto his back as you came around his cock, knowing the night was only just beginning.

#john wick #jw #concept #ask #john wick x reader #drabble #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick imagine #keanu reeves #john wick x you #john wick x y/n #john wick smut #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves x you #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves smut #my works

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