#5 Ways To 5k | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miupow · 4 months ago

Text

UNDER THE MOON

★ pairing。lee felix x fem!reader genre。⧼ 📖 ⧽ smut , comedy , pwp warnings。minors do not interact! demon!felix , witch!reader , magic , breeding kink , unprotected sex , sub to dom , oral (f. rec) , vaginal fingering , cowgirl position , mating press , creampie , overstimulation , dacryphilia , squirting , breast play , marking , size kink , monster cock felix lol , dirty talk , praise kink , degredation kink , name calling , power play , bulge kink , orgasm control , strangers to ???

★ synopsis。you accidentally summoned the wrong demon , but you won't let that get in the way of getting what you want.

a/n ⸝⸝ not proofread lol. let me know if there are any mistakes! this is my second longest fic to date, wow... i hope you all enjoy ! [ 5. 5k words ] ⸝⸝ [ m. list ]

any respectable, well-to-do witch knows that the perfect time to summon a demon is during the full moon. that was when the boundary between the living and the otherworldly was at its most blurred, and a person's magical ability was especially potent– you could feel it thrumming through your body just under your skin, concentrating at your fingertips, just begging to be released. accompanied by your excitement and nerves, you felt simply alight with power.

even then, you still couldn’t believe you managed to summon a demon.

the force of the summoning makes him fall flat on his ass, thick black smoke filling up your bedroom and snuffing out your ritual candles– you can only get a good look at him once the smoke clears out of your open window, the moonlight illuminating his form in the darkness. the first thing you notice are his mismatched eyes, wide and wild as he takes in his new surroundings; one was a deep dark brown, the other an icy steel blue, his pupils slit like a feline’s. his otherworldly beauty takes your breath away, a smattering of freckles across his high cheekbones, heart shaped face framed by curled black horns and platinum hair that cascades down to his shoulders; his inquisitive gaze travels to the summoning circle he was laid out on, ancient runes etched into your hardwood floor, and then to you, peering down at him from the edge of your big pink bed.

“h-how did you do that?!” the demon finally asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence. his thick aussie accent surprised you— you didn’t think demons could have accents other than whatever one they have in hell. “where did you learn how to do that?”

“hello to you too,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “i summoned you here with my family spell book.”

“spell book?” he echoes, taking another look around your frightfully girly bedroom— he’s quick to spot a rather old-looking tome left open on the floor near where he sat in the summoning circle, propped up with a beady-eyed stuffed animal.

“it’s been in my family for generations.” you stand to pick the spell book up off the floor, dusting the smoke residue off the pages.

the demon blinked up at you, odd eyes raking over the lacey little nightgown you were wearing. “you, um, don’t really look like that kind of girl...”

“the kind to be a witch?” you laugh. “i just summoned you here, didn’t i? listen, i need your help.”

“my help? with what?” he moves to stand up as well, patting down his crumpled leather vest— he’s much, much taller than you expected him to be.

you hide your gulp with a dramatic scoff. “i want to make a deal with you, idiot; what else would i have summoned you for?! that’s what you do with demons, isn’t it? and, like, sign over your firstborn or whatever.”

the demon stares at you in abject disbelief for a moment before dropping his head into his hands. “you humans are so stupid…” he mutters under his breath. “i’m not even that kind of demon. i can’t make any ‘deals’ with you.”

“bullshit! what do you mean you can’t make deals with me?!” you retort, crossing your arms. “the spell specifically said it would summon an entity that would make all my dreams come true!”

the demon blanches and stutters, his freckled cheeks turning pink. for some reason, you didn’t think that demons could blush. “um… well, about that…” he laughs nervously. “i’m an incubus. not the kind of demon you’re looking for, i think… i’m not even that good of an incubus, to be honest with you…”

you cock your head, watching as the demon shuffles his feet, his pointed black leather boots scuffing up your floor. “why do you say that?”

“i’ve never been summoned like this before, by a mortal…” he admits softly, his blush deepening. “i’ve never been in the human realm at all before; i’m supposed to be using you mortals to strengthen my powers, prey on you in your sleep… but i’m just too nervous! you humans frighten me… the other incubi make fun of me for it. i’m a terrible demon, you probably need to summon someone different…”

his sad pout was so cute for a demon from hell, and you can’t help but giggle a little meanly at the incubus’ plight. “you’re a virgin incubus? i never thought there was such a thing…”

the demon scowls, his pretty face screwed up in a way that wasn’t intimidating in the slightest. “don’t laugh at me.” he whines petulantly, “i could kill you right now if i wanted to.”

“sure you could, loser virgin incubus.”

the demon’s scowl deepens, trying very hard to keep his odd eyes from wandering their way down to your breasts, pushed up in your nightie by your crossed arms. “shut up. don’t call me that.”

“what should i call you then?” you snicker. you can’t help but revel in the way the demon’s eyes eat you alive— while he seems gentle and harmless, the way his mismatched eyes seem to glow with something dark and venomous when he looks over you leaves you shivering. something darker seemed to be hiding just under the surface of this seemingly innocent incubus… and you yearned to discover just what that was.

“felix. my name is felix.” the demon— felix-- mumbles to his shoes. he seemed to have noticed that you’ve caught on to his staring, anxiously avoiding eye contact. cute.

“that’s not a very demonic name.” you remark playfully. “i like it, though. it suits you, felix.”

felix huffs and rolls his eyes, but you can see the beginnings of a shy smile tug at the corner of his lips, his sharp, vampire-like teeth poking out in an oddly endearing way. you won’t let his cuteness distract you, though— you took all this time and effort to summon him, and you were determined to not let it get wasted.

“so… do you have any cool powers or anything?” you press, “like, could you maybe… make somebody fall in love with me?”

felix blinks owlishly down at you. “um… what?”

“listen, there’s this guy on campus i like, right? he’s my roommate’s best friend and he’s just so dreamy… but he’s in love with this girl i can’t stand. it’s like he’s obsessed with her, it’s disgusting.” you huff, curling your lip. “i just want him to forget about her and see what he’s missing! can you make him fall in love with me or something, like cupid? make him obsessed with me instead— you can do that, right?”

“er, well, kind of—”

“you can? perfect!” you clap your hands excitedly. “do i just need to tell you his name, or—”

“wait, wait—” felix interjects with a flustered stutter, “hold on a moment! w-what’s in it for me? i don’t go around doing favors for free, you know.”

you think for a moment, an ingenious and devilish idea quickly forming in your head as you slide your gaze down felix’s fit body. you never expected hell’s demons to be so drop-dead gorgeous, but you supposed it made sense with him being an incubus and all… slowly your lips pull into a devious grin. sure, you summoned the wrong demon, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do your bidding anyway.

“you want to be a better incubus, right? want the other demons to stop making bullying you?”

“well, yes…”

“i can help you.” you offer, taking a step closer to the nervous demon in front of you. “i can teach you everything you need to know about pleasing a human… if, in return, you use your little demon powers to help me out.”

it takes felix a second to process just what you’re proposing, his eyes widening comically and his mouth dropping open in a gape. the blush on his freckled cheeks now burns crimson red, all the way to the tips of his pointed ears. “wh- wait, really, you— with me?!”

you nod with a sensual smile, taking another slow step forwards; just close enough to reach out and run a finger down his chest. “you help me and i’ll help you, okay?”

felix’s eyes flicker down to your lips, his adam’s apple bobbing with his gulp, and you can see it on his face when his flimsy resolve crumbles. “you’re lucky you summoned one of hell’s nicer demons, no other demon would ever agree to something like this— mmffh!”

you grab him by the lapels and pull him into a kiss in the middle of his sentence, his last words smothered on your soft and persuasive lips. he returned your kiss with reckless abandon, whimpering into your mouth. he was far too good of a kisser to be as inexperienced as he claimed, the tenderness leaving your knees weak and your thoughts spinning. a thin string of spit connects your wet lips when you pull away for air, snapping when felix darts a forked pink tongue out to lick his bottom lip in a daze.

“wow…” he whispers in awe, his sparkling eyes gazing at you through lowered lashes. “kissing humans is so much better than i thought it would be…”

his lips recapture yours, more demanding this time as that sinful forked tongue coaxed your lips open and explored the recesses of your mouth. the savage intensity of it sends a shock wave through your entire body, your senses short-circuiting— you tear your lips from his, quickly turn him around and push him onto your pink floral mattress. once again, you nearly succumbed to his distractions.

felix lets out a huff when his backside hits the bed, confusion paralyzing him just long enough for you to begin slowly undressing.

“woah, a little impatient, are you?” felix laughs, “you humans can never take anything slow…ly…”

he grows quiet as you slide the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, the thin lace fabric pooling around your ankles. it left you completely bare except for a pair of tiny cotton panties, a little wet spot already visible in the white fabric. he ogles at your tits, round and perky with your nipples beginning to harden in the cool air.

his hungry gaze roamed over your figure, taking in your soft curves and tummy, dropping to follow your hands as you pull your panties down your thighs. they join your nightgown on the floor, and felix gets his first look at your pussy as you step out of them and kick them to the side.

“wow… you are so… beautiful.”

the sincerity in which he says it makes both your heart and your pussy flutter. you can’t hide your eagerness as you saunter forwards and begin to climb up on felix’s lap. “are you ready for your lesson?” you purr into his ear, your hand sliding up his thigh towards the growing bulge in his pants. just the size of the bulge alone makes your head spin— and he’s not even fully hard yet.

“h-hold on,” felix whimpers, grabbing your wrist, “you’re so small and, you know.. human sized… shouldn’t i, um, prep you? i don’t want to hurt you, i’m not one of those kinds of demons.”

you look back down at his bulge, just out of your reach with his fingers around your wrist. “that’s probably a good idea…”

you slide off his lap, positioning yourself in the middle of your bed; you rest your head among all your pillows and stuffed animals, all cute and cuddly and nothing at all like the dark energy that filled the room, the wicked smile on your face as felix crawls up the bed and in between your parted legs. he stares enthralled at your pussy, spread open all for him to admire— his hands come to grasp at the meat of your thighs, seemingly trying to ground himself as he takes everything in.

“oh, fuck,” he croaks, mismatched eyes glinting in the moonlight, “you’re already so wet, it’s dripping all over the sheets… it’s beautiful. have you been wanting me this whole time?”

your words get stuck in your throat, shuddering in arousal as you nod coyly down at him. he screws his eyes shut and lets out a deep, pathetic groan.

“god, you’re so fucking sexy… i never thought i could get so aroused by a mortal.”

“i’m sorry, whose name was that?” you joke, still feeling mischievous even as your heart rattled in your chest. felix shoots you an irritated glare.

“oh, be quiet.”

he shuts you up with another searing hot kiss, demanding and passionate, and his stout fingers moved to tease at your wet, sticky folds. you gasp against his lips, squirming beneath him; the gentle stroking of his fingers sent jolts of pleasure through you, your pussy clenching around nothing but air.

“i’m not sure what to do…” felix mumbles, breaking your kiss to graze his lips across your jawline. “i’ve never done anything like this before… will you show me how to make you feel good?”

“just touch me,” you plead. “i want your fingers inside of me, please—”

felix starts with just one, short but deliciously thick as he slowly pushes it into your fluttering hole. “fuck, you’re so tight…” the stretch makes you cry out and claw at his shoulders, finally having something inside to ease the ache after being so needy for so long.

felix freezes with his finger buried inside to the knuckle, glancing down at you nervously. “did i hurt you?”

“no, no, feels so good—“ his hesitation would be cute if you weren’t so worked up, desperately grinding your cunt against his hand. “now move it in and out, nice and slow…”

he follows your directions dutifully, his movements slow and unsure, and despite his inexperience and anxiety, he quickly found a rhythm that flooded your shivering body with dizzying desire. waves of ecstasy crashed through you as you bucked your hips to meet his finger, whimpers and whines of delight falling from your open, panting mouth. his fingertip brushes your spongey sweet spot, electricity rippling under your skin and sending shockwaves through your core as you moaned in sweet agony.

“am i doing good, little human?” felix breathes shyly against your ear.

his eagerness to please made your pussy throb around him, sucking his finger in deeper—he was a quick learner, paying special attention to your sweet spot as you gushed slick all over his hand. “i think i am, you’re even wetter than before, it’s so noisy,” he accentuates his claim with a curl of his finger, the obscene wet squelches of your pussy ringing in your ears. “just look how well you’re taking it…is it okay if i add another finger?”

“yes! yes, fuck yes, please—”

he slides another fat finger in along with his first, his big eyes watching as he stretched your tight pussy out even wider for the cock you all but ached for. you sob in pleasure as he quickens his pace, curls his fingertips harder against your sweet spot. “wow, you can barely take two of my fingers..” the demon above you murmured in faux concern, “i don’t know if my cock will fit.”

you throw your head back with a lustful moan.

“tell me what you want from me.” he continues in a deep rasp, his accent only adding to the desire in his voice, “tell me what to do to make you cum.”

“t-touch my clit!” you hiccup, pretty manicured nails tearing at the fabric of his shirt.

you expect another finger, maybe his palm—what you don’t expect is for felix to trail soft kisses down your chest and belly, lower and lower until his plump lips were hovering over the curve of your pussy.

“wh-what are you doing?!” you squeal as felix kicks your legs over his shoulders, “do you even know what you’re doing down there?!”

“no.” felix shakes his head with a grin before diving his head between your thighs.

he attaches his lips to your swollen clit, his long tongue dragging up between your folds to circle the bud with shocking precision. he sucks gently on your clit while his fingers pump deep inside of you, his pretty moans and groans muffled with his face pressed against your squelching pussy. “you taste so good,” felix mumbles, his wide, mismatched eyes blinking up at you to take in every one of your reactions. “fuck, i love this pussy so much… think you can take another finger?”

he presses in a third finger before you can even respond, pussy stretched past your limits as you sob out in pleasure. it’s overwhelming in the best possible way, his fingers quickly pushing you closer and closer to the edge as he licks your clit and slurps up your juices. the flames of passion raged through your very being, and you abandon yourself to the knot tightening deep in your belly. you haven’t felt pleasure like this in ages, yelping as felix sucks particularly hard at your clit, and without thinking your arms dart down to grab ahold of his twisted black horns. the growl felix lets out against your heated skin is obscene, dark and beastly as he buries his face farther into your cunt, quickens the pace of his fingers against your sweet spot. “fuck yes, nasty girl, that’s it— grab my horns and just take it!”

you use your grip on his horns to buck wildly against his face, the knot in your belly threatening to snap as felix pulls his fingers out to grab your hips tightly. his clawed fingers dig painfully at your flesh, but it only heightens your sense of pleasure as he shoves his tongue deep into your wet hole. he tongue fucks your pussy with vigor, his groans and growls growing deeper and more demonic as he fucks you to your climax. “pussy’s so fucking good, can’t get enough…”

“felix!” you squeal when the forked tip of his tongue brushes against your sweet spot. “felix, i’m close, i’m gonna cum--!”

“say my name again, scream it!” felix crows with his face still buried in your cunt, the dark, powerful boom to his voice that hadn’t been there before making you finally hurtled you past the point of now return.

you scream his name as you squirt all over his face, nasty and wet as you ride out your high on his tongue— you’re quickly catapulted into overstimulation, tears pooling in your lashes as you whine and attempt to push him off you by his horns. if anything, that just seems to spur him on more.

“fuck no, i’m not done,” he growls, a dangerous edge to his voice frightening you and making your spent pussy throb all the same. “i need more, can’t stop— need to make you cum again, and again—”

he devours you like an animal, otherworldly strength keeping him flush against you even as you thrash and push roughly at his head. he doesn’t stop until you cum again, soaking his face and your sheets in sweet sticky slick— your pathetic cries seem to snap him out of it, hastily tearing himself away from your trembling little pussy to look up at you in worry and alarm.

“i-i’m so sorry, i don’t know what came over me! i just.. lost control— that was good though, right?”

his pretty pink lips and swollen and wet with your arousal, his freckled cheeks and chin smeared with it, even his nose; he gazes at you with big, watery doe eyes, the opposite of how he had been looking at you when he had his face between your legs. you babble incoherently, scrambled brain unable to string together a single sentence, your chest heaving with the aftershocks of two back-to-back orgasms.

felix smirks. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

his odd eyes snap back to your spent pussy, the primal hunger in his eyes making you throb despite of how spent you already were. “you look so pretty like this, all spent… can you take more? i need to be inside of you, now.”

your own hazy, unfocused gaze lowers to the straining bulge in his leather pants— the size of it makes you dizzy, a little frightened, but your overwhelming need for more outweighs any fear, and you slowly move to prop yourself up. “can i ride you? it’ll be easier for me to, um… take it.”

felix nods excitedly, as obedient as ever as he moves to take your place on the mattress. his platinum hair splays out around his head like a halo, his pretty face so angelic despite the fangs, tongue and horns… the imagery makes you snort.

“alright, you can get on whenever you’re ready— ooh!~”

you swing your leg over his waist without hesitation, straddling him as you begin to tug recklessly at his clothes. you pull his vest and shirt up to his chest, revealing twitching washboard abs that made your mouth water, and loosened his belt and fly. tugging his pants down to his thighs, his red swollen cock slaps wetly against his abs, rock hard and drooling pearly precum from the fat tip. you moan at just the sheer size of it, long and thick with the prettiest pulsing veins— you’re barely able to fit your hand around it when you reach down to take ahold of him, relishing in the low whimper felix lets out. you slowly slide your hand up and down his shaft, watching in rapture as more precum leaks from the head and slicks up your hand. it aids in the slide of your tight fist, felix groaning out pathetically as your other hand slides up your belly to pinch and roll your budding nipple.

you slide his cock between your pussy lips, your slick and his precum mixing together to make a sticky mess. you let his cockhead brush against your clit, the sudden shock of pleasure making the both of you moan— felix’s hands are shaking when they shoot up to take ahold of your waist. the lust on his face makes your tummy turn, the tenderness and sincerity in which he gazed up at you. “if it’s ever too much, tell me, please?” he breathes, his thumbs stroking the flushed skin. ”forget about the deal.”

you open your mouth to answer, but find yourself unable to speak; his tip catches your entrance, the sheer size of it pushing against your hole leaving you breathless and stuck in a silent scream. it feels so much bigger than three fingers, more than anything you think you’ve ever taken, and you freeze in a confusing mix of frightened and aroused.

“shh, don’t be scared, human,” felix coos, his steady hands keeping you firm against his cockhead. he squeezes your waist reassuringly. “i’m not going to hurt you, i promise.”

his tip slides inside with a pop, the gummy walls of your pussy gripping onto him like a vice as he steadies himself and slowly starts pushing in— the burning pain of the stretch is quickly overshadowed by a flood of pulsing red hot desire, drawing you to a height of passion you had never known before. never had any lover made you feel this way, trembling with ecstasy as your greedy pussy sucked in more and more of felix’s demon cock. “you feel so good, you’re so warm, so tight— such a good girl, taking all this cock!” felix keens, eyes rolling back into his head as you take him all the way to the base, his shiny mouth falling open in a desperate string of moans when his cockhead kisses snug against your cervix. “oh fuck, you took it all!”

you both take a moment to relax and adjust, catching your breaths as you pant into each other’s faces; felix waits patiently until you’re breathing goes steady and you unclench your pussy around him, begin to squirm needily in his grasp. “okay, you can start whenever you’re ready—"

like a woman possessed, you start bouncing on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, his fat tip hitting so dizzyingly deep inside of you with every movement of your hips. felix throws his head back with a broken cry, his hands flying down to grip harsh fistfuls of your ass as you ride him. “oh fuck, you should have warned me! fuck fuck fuck, slow down!”

you’re deaf to his cries, unable to focus on anything other than the explosive pleasure that coursed through your core; you plant your feet on the mattress to help strengthen your bouncing, so fast and rough nasty wet slaps echoed throughout the room every time your ass met his pelvis. “you’re so fucking big, so deep inside of me!” you whine.

“you’re just using me like a toy… are you feeling good, baby? yeah?” felix whimpers, voice weak and wavering, “n-naughty little girl likes being full of big, fat demon cock? o-oh god, you’re going to ruin me…”

you answer him with a wail, crying out his name once again as you claw red scratch marks down felix’s taut, muscular chest and abs. the sting just seems to make him harder, his cock twitching inside of you as he moans in pain and pleasure. his noises border on animalistic, deep snarls and growls that go right to your pussy. his mismatched eyes lock onto your chest, your perky tits bouncing obscenely in his face, and he licks his lips with that dastardly snake-like tongue.

“perfect girl, perfect pussy, perfect little tits— do you want me to play with them? suck on them? tell me what you want and i’ll do it.”

“please,” you sob, “please make me feel good!”

felix pulls you down so your body is flush with his, his hands leaving your ass to pinch and roll your nipples. his grip on your breast is bruising as he squeezes and fondles, pulling one into his wet hot mouth— the combined stimulation of his fingers and his mouth on your puffy nipples sending your senses into overdrive, the new angle making his cock feel even deeper inside of you than before, carving out space in your tummy as you moan in delight. he bites down gently on your nipple, pointy teeth teasing your bud, his plump lips and talented tongue caressing as they slowly move from sucking your swollen, peeking bud to trailing down the swell of your tit. he kisses a searing path up your sternum, leaving dusky purple marks in his wake as his hands continue their onslaught on your tits, massaging and groping with tantalizing ferocity. “why do you taste so fucking good? every single inch of you is delicious…” felix murmurs against your fiery skin, his canines ghosting over your collarbones, “you marked me up, pretty girl, now i have to return the favor… i could just eat you whole.”,

“fuck me!” you squeal, dripping pussy spasming around felix’s fat cock as you crash your hips down onto his. “fuck me, please, need it harder!”

“fuck, don’t say things like that— it’s taking everything i have to stay in control, baby, pussy’s so good! i-i’m being gentle for your sake, if i could have you how i want you i’m afraid i might break you—”

his words go straight to your cunt, lighting a fire of need inside of you; with an evil little smile you suddenly stop bouncing, your ass flush against his hips as you begin grinding tight little circles. felix tears himself away from your spit-soaked chest, utterly debauched as he gazes up at you with wide, desperate eyes. “n-no, wait, why are you stopping!?”

“i want you to break me, felix,” you purr with a sharp glint in your eye, teasing over his scratch marks with the tips of your fingers. “i want you to lose control and let me have it, please—”

in an instant you’re thrown across the bed, your back hitting your mattress knocking the wind out of you, and he’s on top of you before you can catch your breath. his claws snatch ahold of both your legs and tosses them over his shoulder, folds you over as he resheathes his throbbing cock back inside your gaping, drooling pussy. with inhuman strength he takes complete control over your body, trapping you beneath him and leaving you helpless, unable to do anything other than lay there and take it as he rams his cock inside of you. his bulbous cockhead knocks against your cervix so hard you fear he’ll push through, such a witty girl brainless and fucked stupid split open with his cock nestled deep in your tummy.

“you never wanted it slow and gentle, did you angel?” felix goads, his deep voice gaining an echoing, demonic edge. “you wanted me to treat you like a slut from the very beginning… such a nasty little witch.”

his mismatched eyes catch on the little bulge his cock makes in your tummy, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust; he presses down on your tummy with a devilish grin and a moan, able to feel his cockhead pounding up in your guts. “you feel me right here, don’t you baby?”

“s-so d-deep—!” is all you can manage to whimper, your teary eyes threatening to spill from the overwhelming pleasure.

felix coos at your fucked out face, his sharp nails digging into the meat of your thighs in a disorienting mix of pain and pleasure. “so cute, taking my cock so well… will you let me cum inside? i want to— i need to fill you up with my cum.”

“yes, yes— god, i’m gonna cum, please!” you beg, any last shred of dignity leaving in favor for your impending climax. your need for release clouded your mind, unable to think of anything except for creaming around felix’s cock as he shoots a hot load inside of you.

“who? god’s not here, baby.” felix crows, mirroring your own joke with a chuckle. you don’t have the energy to even get mad at him. “just us— now tell me how badly you want this demon to cum inside of you. be a good girl and beg for it… maybe i’ll give you that firstborn you want so badly?”

your tears finally fall as you surrender completely to uncontrollable ecstasy, sobbing for felix to breed you as his hips grow sloppy. he’s so close to the edge, just as much as you— you can feel it in the shuddering of his body, his broken whimpers, the tightness in his heavy balls as they slap against your ass. you grab fistfuls of the bed sheets to ground you, keep you from floating away entirely as you lose yourself in pleasure.

“cum together with me, angel,” felix pants above you, thrusting as deep as he could inside inside your pussy, “cum on my cock as i put a baby in you—!”

you cum all over his cock in a rush of exalted endorphins, your pussy spasming violently with your third and most powerful orgasm of the night. your gummy walls clamp down around his shaft, trying to push him out and suck him in deeper at the same time; you can see a foamy white ring formed around the base when he pulls out to thrust back in, a sticky and creamy mess down his balls and thighs. finally, with an animalistic grunt, felix stills inside of you to add to the mess, hot thick ropes of seed flooding your womb until you overflowed. you’ve never felt so full in your life, slick and cum oozing out around where felix’s cock stayed buried deep inside of you. you ride out the aftershocks in each other’s arms, falling into an intimate embrace as you both work to catch your breath.

“fuck, look at that…” felix whispers after a long moment of silence, his hips moving gently to thrust loosely. more cum leaks out from where you were joined, the both of you moaning at the sight. “there’s so much cum it’s leaking out… a-are you okay? was that good?”

“good?! that was the best sex i’ve ever had in my life—” you reply, moving to prop yourself up, but felix pushes you back down with urgency.

“no, no baby, don’t move, you gotta keep it all inside! stay still while i push it in deeper…”

before you can protest felix begins to wildly pound into your spent pussy again, his cock still rock hard and throbbing against your walls— you cry out in surprise and overstimulation, more exhausted and drained than you’ve ever felt before, yet your greedy pussy opens up for him with ease. he shushes your sobs and hiccups, his caresses gentle but his eyes wild and dangerous… he’s gotten drunk on the power of your love, lost all control to the beast that had been hiding inside of him for so long..

“i don’t think that’s going to be enough… i’m not stopping until i’ve bred you proper, just how you want it, right? we’re not done.”

#k-labels #skz x reader #skz smut #skz hard thoughts #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #felix x reader #felix smut #felix hard thoughts #felix hard hours #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic

2K notes · View notes

rosenclaws · 2 months ago

Text

Jinx (or 5 times you mess things up in front of Logan and 1 time you don't) || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You bring bad luck and have all your life and when you meet Logan you expect him to react the same way everyone has. To your shock he doesn't. That doesn't stop you from making a fool of yourself in front of him though. Many. Many times.

warnings: flirty logan, swearing, reader has mutant fire powers, fighting, logan has ptsd in water, he lashes out bc of it, possible ooc but idc, fighting, injury, comfort, blood, explosions

wc: 5k

a/n: Okay so I fucking LOVE arcane and I thought about a fic where the reader is like Jinx in the sense of she just has really bad luck all the time. She also has fire powers because I think they're cool and after that one drabble I wanted to do more with it. This is my longest fic so I hope you like it!!!

The First meeting

You might be the first mutant with a nickname that is more of an insult than a call sign. It started when you arrived here. Just a teenager looking for a place to call home. The mansion was that home and you loved every second of it. Your fire wielding powers were dangerous but exciting and with the help of the teachers you sort of learned how to train them.

But for some reason you didn't get some cool fire nickname you got stuck with Jinx. It's not your fault that bad things just happen around you. Really. You don't do anything to cause them on purpose but the bad luck seems to just follow you where ever you go.

You got the nickname after you managed to break the fountain. Seriously though how can that be so fragile. All you did was kick a soccer ball and you might have taken its head off.

Bad things just seemed to happen over and over again. You might have set fire to some curtains. Or the carpet. Or smashed a vase or two.

Even when you graduated and became a teacher things just happened. Missing papers, breaking pencils, the ceiling caves in because a family of fat racoons decided to make their home there. Things that were out of your control just happened.

So they called you Jinx. Was it lovingly? Maybe.

No one has kicked you out yet so that's a good sign. They do tend to avoid standing too close to you though. Which honestly is for the best.

It was a commotion in the main lobby that catches your attention today. The sound of a gruff voice peaks your interest. Peering into the room you see Rogue and Storm talking to a man.

"It's good to see you Logan." Oh! Wolverine.

You missed his first stop by the mansion. You were off doing something else for Charles when he was brought here originally and you were supposed to fly back to help as usual. You flight got canceled due to weather. So by the time you came back he had already gone.

You heard Rouge gossiping with the other students about him. She mentioned he was handsome but fuck he was even better than you thought.

You lean forward a little more and end up losing your balance and falling flat on your face. The three of them look at you and you wave, trying to save yourself some embarrassment. You can see Logan looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Jinx! Come meet Logan." Rogue calls you over and you stand up. Brushing yourself off as you walk over.

"Nice to meet you Logan." You hold out your hand but he just looks at it.

"Jinx?" He says instead. A smirk on his face as he speaks.

"It's a nickname, don't you have one too Wolverine?" He chuckles and you have hope that you're charming enough. Most of the time something really unlucky happens when you meet someone for the first time.

"Will I see you around Jinx?" If you didn't know better you'd say he was flirting.

He steps closer to you and you stumble back in surprise. He's intimidating with his broad shoulders and animal like grin. You let out a small scream as you trip on your feet and fall backwards. Right into Scott. Scott falls like a domino and you hear a crack.

"Scott! Are you okay?!" You rush to his side but suddenly a beam of energy shoots through his eyes.

You feel someone grab your arm and pull you away from him. Ducking your head as the beam shoots into the door. Scott closes his eyes but the damage is already done. The front doors of the beautiful mansion were destroyed. Everyone waits in silence as Charles appears from his office holding an extra pair of glasses for Scott.

"I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you." Apologies tumble out of your mouth as Scott fixes his new glasses.

"Don't worry about it, It was an accident Jinx." He places a hand on your shoulder and smiles but you can tell you fucked up. Again. You smile back but it falls once he leaves.

"I'm sorry about your door Professor." You mumble as you look at the destruction.

"It's alright, we'll get it fixed." You slowly walk off, letting people asses the damage.

You pass by Logan who watches you as you slink back to your room. You had hoped that maybe you could have gotten to know Logan before he found out how you got your nickname.

So much for first impressions.

2. In the kitchen

The next time you encounter Logan is in the kitchen. Despite your inherent unluckiness you still loved to cook. Sure you had cuts and burns from all your attempts but your dishes ended up pretty good. You're making a stew this time. Band aids are already on some of your fingers as you stir the pot.

"Smells good." You let out a scream as you drop the spoon into the soup. The fridge opens up and you see Logan rummaging through the shelves.

"Beer's behind the peas." You mumble as you try and fish out the spoon.

"Ow!" You hiss as you burn yourself again.

The hot metal spoon burned your hand. Logan watches as you put your hand under the sink and put some cold water on it.

"Ironic I know, the mutant with fire powers burns herself when cooking." You mutter catching his amused look.

He walks over and takes your hand, pressing his cold beer to the small burn. You sigh as the cold drink sends relief through your hand. You get a better look at Logan like this.

He's just dressed in jeans and a tank top. His muscles are practically bulging through the already stretchy fabric. He's got this dangerous aura around him that makes you hesitant at first. Not to mention the whispers about him. How violent he could be, the things he’s done. Everything he’s been through. But you didn’t care.

"So is Jinx because your clumsy?" He asks as he checks on your burn.

"Kind of, more like unlucky things just seem to happen to me I guess." Your eyes are focused on where Logan's hand is holding your wrist.

His hands are rough but his touch feels so nice. His grip is firm but not enough to hurt you. The fact that he's even helping you is bizarre. Anyone else would just chalk it up to you and let you deal with it yourself.

"I'm surprised you haven't run for the hills yet. You know, the first day you meet me I end up destroying the door." To your surprise Logan laughs.

"Technically Scott destroyed the door." He counters.

"Yeah well I broke his glasses." You take your hand away from his beer and turn your attention back to the soup.

For some reason Logan doesn't leave. He watches you as you cook and you like the company. You tense as you feel him get closer to you. His chest almost against your back as he peers over your shoulder. He's so close. You take a wooden spoon this time and stir the soup. Lifting a little bit to your lips.

"Can I have a taste?" Logan asks.

You turn your head to find his face incredibly close to yours. Really close. So close that you can barely focus on anything other than his lips. You don't notice the burner getting more intense as all your focus is on Logan.

"Shit!" Logan hisses as the soup practically explodes all over the kitchen. Soup splatters every possible place including your clothes. Making a massive mess.

"Dammit!" You turn down the burner and see if there's anything left you can salvage but there's nothing. You must have caused the burner to go haywire.

"I'm sorry Logan." You say defeatedly as you wipe soup from your forehead. Logan takes his thumb and wipes the soup off your cheek.

"Tasty." He says as he licks his thumb. He doesn’t break eye contact. Enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

You stand with your mouth open as he walks off like he didn't just do that. The flames on the burner get bigger once again and you turn it off. You grab the roll of paper towels and start to clean.

The faint touch of Logan's thumb still on your mind.

3. In the garage

After your kitchen disaster you found yourself wandering the mansion instead. It had been a couple weeks but you decided to avoid the kitchen for now. Now you had too much free time on your hands. That's how you ended up here, in the garage. Except this time it was you who found Logan. He was working on his motorcycle. Shirtless. Okay that's totally normal right? You think to yourself as you sit and watch.

"When did you learn how to ride?" You ask as you watch him screw in something to somewhere, you don't know too much about motorcycles.

"Long time ago." He answers gruffly as he wipes his forehead with a rag.

"Like ten, twenty, a million years ago?" Logan chuckles and stands up. Your eyes trace the veins on his arms as he puts his hands on his hips.

"More like a hundred." He sits on his bike and turns it on. He's double checking everything and notices you looking in awe.

"You ever ridden before?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Alright then come here." He gestures for you to get on and you perk up. He gets off and holds the handle bars, letting you get on. You're extra careful. This bike looked expensive and Logan had just spent hours working on it. The last thing you wanted to do was jinx things. Again.

"Woah." You giggle as you run your hands along the smooth metal.

"So you put one foot here and the other stays on the floor." He guides you gently and you do as he says. You place your hands next to his on the handlebars.

"When I was a kid I this bike. It was purple with a basket in the front." You tell him. You loved that bike. Rode it whenever you could. You had the bruises to prove it from the amount of times you fell off.

"I rode it into a bush once. Got these bumps all over my skin." Logan takes his hands off the bike leaving just you holding it up.

"Well it's no purple bike, but I can take you on a ride one day. There's this diner about twenty minute away if you’re interested.” He offers. You grin and tighten your grip on the handles.

"Sounds like you're asking me on a date." You say boldly.

Before Logan could say anything there's a loud bang. Backfire from something but it scares the hell out of you. Without thinking you heat up the bike and jump off of it. Logan tries to grab it but the handles burn his hand. You watch in horror as it falls on its side. You try to stop it but it only ends up landing on your foot.

"Fuck!" You grab your foot as pain shoots through your body. That thing is heavy. Logan clutches his hand for a second before the burn heals. He picks up the bike and kicks the stand open so it can stay up on its own. Your eyes brim with tears when you see the dirty and scratches that have ruined the newly cleaned shiny metal.

"Logan I'm so sorry." He sighs and walks over to you.

"Your foot okay?" It hurts but it's not broken. You try to set it down but you can't. The pain is too much. You try to hide it but he sees right through you.

"Let's get you to the lab." You try to protest but he doesn't listen. Helping you out of the garage and to the lab. Ignoring the fact that you just caused him even more trouble. As you get patched up he leaves. You hang your head low as you think of a way to make it up to him.

Later that night Logan can't sleep. The nightmares don’t let him. So he makes his way back down to the garage. He needs to start over on fixing his bike anyways. As he approaches the door be notices the lights already on. To his surprise he finds you there. Fast asleep with your head on a chair.

You're body is uncomfortably kneeling on the ground. Your foot is wrapped and there's crutches leaning against the wall. There's rags and wax sitting by your side and his bike looks brand new. He kneels down and shakes you awake.

"Hey there sweetheart." He says as you open your eyes.

You mumble something incoherent and shut your eyes. Logan bends down and picks you up in his arms. He carries you back to your bed laying a blanket over you as you melt into your pillows. He elevates your foot before he leaves. People may call you a Jinx but you've got a heart of gold. He goes back to the garage and cleans up everything, making a mental note to take you on that date when you're foot is better.

4. Ice Skating

It took a month for your foot to finally heal up. Broken no, fractured, yes. It was a pain trying to get around on crutches but Logan ended being your own personal transportation. He would help you get down the stairs, reach the high shelf, drive you to the store. Whatever you needed he was there.

He even took you to that diner. Sharing a milkshake and cheese fries. He looked past your nickname, sure he called you Jinx but when he did it felt sweeter. He had seen your unluckiness first hand and yet he still chooses to be by your side. It was all you ever wanted.

Sure you had friends at the mansion but you could tell they thought of you as a small burden, a nuisance. They were still kind to you but you always saw their faces when something went wrong. With Logan there was none of that. He embraced every part of you. Now with your foot all healed and the winter starting to settle over the mansion you were all clear for winter activities.

Your favorite one being ice skating. A large pond was the perfect place for you and some of the kids to go. Logan had tagged along but only did so because you begged him to go. Pretty please with a cherry on top was enough to get him to chaperone.

You skated along with some of the kids. Others had set up an ice hockey game. It was pure childhood joy. Something that these kids didn't get all the time. Logan was sitting on a bench by the edge of the pond just watching. You skated over and put your hands on your hips.

"Come on Logan, you can't just come to the lake and not skate." You whine. He raises an eyebrow and stays put on that bench.

"I don't do skating sweetheart, or lakes."

"Ten minutes, just ten minutes and I'll leave you alone." You pout and clasp your hands together. He stares at you for a moment before relenting.

"Fine." You let out a happy cheer as he laces up the pair of skates you got for him. You hold out your hands as Logan struggles to balance on the skates.

"See, you're a natural." Logan wobbles and lets out a string of curses as he tries to walk on ice.

"Shut up." He says with no bite in his voice.

Your fingers interlock with his hand as you start slow. This was hell for Logan but seeing your smile made it worth it. You skate around the lake with him, laughing when he glares at the kids who laugh at him. Seeing him so out of his element was funny.

"Okay that's it I'm done." He grunts out as you come to a stop near the middle of the lake.

"Thank you for trying." You know he's not really having fun but it meant a lot he was willing to even get on the ice for you.

"Teacher! Jinx!" A loud cry comes from the kids. You gasp as you notice the ice starting to crack. You made sure the ice was thick enough. You triple checked how could this be happening. You see Logan start to panic so you take action.

"Everyone stay calm!" You yell out.

"If you can make it off now then do it. If you're too far away then I need you to get on your stomach and spread your legs out. Then slowly crawl to the edge. Anyone who is off the lake help pull others to safety." You stay as calm as you can as you make sure everyone is safe. To your relief the ice stays intact as the kids make it off. Now it's just you and Logan. There's fear in his eyes as the cracking gets louder.

"We need to do the same thing Logan. It's going to be okay." The two of you get onto your stomachs and army crawl towards the edge. A student with super speed has already gone to get help thank goodness.

"Fuck." Logan panics as the ice starts to give way. You grab his hand as he starts to freeze.

"It's okay it's okay." You're close to the edge but not close enough.

You yelp as the ice breaks and both of you plunge into the water. You try to keep your grip onto Logan but he's sinking fast. The water is bringing back horrible, horrible memories as he struggles to breathe. Your head barely bobs above the surface as you see familiar faces running towards you.

Water fills your lungs as you scream when Logan's claws nick your arm. He plunges them into the dirt. Trying to pull himself up and out. Your body is becoming numb and every movement hurts. A pair of hands drag you out of the water. You cough violently as you grip onto the frozen grass. Trying to catch your breath. Logan's eyes are wide as he does the same.

"Are you okay?" You reach out to him but he snaps.

"Don't touch me!" He snarls and your heart plummets. His eyes are unfamiliar as his teeth bare like an animal. For the first time since you've met him he's angry with you. Really fucking angry.

"I'm sorry I..."

"I'm sorry Logan, I didn't mean to scratch your bike, I didn't mean to explode the fucking soup. Is that all you can say?!" He shoves off the people trying to help and stands up. His face cold and unforgiving as he looks down on your shivering body.

"You really are a fucking Jinx." You let out a sob as Logan walks away.

A fluffy blanket feels like ice against your skin as you're ushered back to the mansion. You hear Storm trying to talk to you but everything sounds like white noise. Your heart is stomped and crushed right in front of your eyes and you can't even blame him.

You're nothing but bad luck.

5. On a mission

There's no more accidents around the mansion anymore. Probably because you've locked yourself away since the ice skating incident. With the school on a break you didn't need to teach so all you did was stay in your room. Only leaving in the dead of night.

You just couldn't face the mansion anymore. You were embarrassed, upset, and heartbroken. Logan was supposed to be different. You wanted things to be different with him but apparently the universe decided you can have nothing good. It was only a matter of time before he saw the truth. His words repeat in your head over and over.

The anger, the fear. You caused that. Students and teachers alike would stop by your door but no one could get you out of your room. Sometimes you swear you hear the sound of his boots outside of your door. But he just stands there and then he leaves.

You can't cause any more problems if you stay here. Only issues for yourself and that's okay. Professor Xavier would pop into your head every now and then just to check up on you but this time what he needed was urgent.

The moment you walked through his office doors you could feel everyone's eyes on you. Especially a certain someone's who’s brooding in the corner of the room. Even with everyone here he's just overwhelming. You keep yours forward, not sparing a glance to him or to anyone.

"Thank you for joining us." Charles smiles warmly.

Apparently there's a mission and they need your help. Why they would send you out there you don't know. The targets had a fire mutant too and the best way to fight fire is with, well with more fire. The moment you stepped on the jet you could feel the nerves.

Everyone was worried something would go wrong with you around. Keeping your eyes glued to the ground you take a seat as far away from everyone as possible. Counting your fingers over and over as you wait to land. Someone makes there way over to you, their boots are oh so familiar.

"Hey." You look up to see Logan. He's holding onto the seat next to you for dear life.

"Don't worry I'm not gonna touch anything." You mumble as you try and somehow make yourself smaller.

"Listen I just wanted to talk." The plane jolts and Logan slams his fist against the wall. He freezes up again, fear creeping up onto his face. Just like on that frozen lake.

"We're hitting some turbulence. Logan you need to sit down." Scott commands.

Logan's lips turn into a growl but he sits down anyway. His hands clutching the armrests of the chair. Apart of you wants to go and comfort him but you would probably just make things worse. So you close your eyes and wait for it to be over. The turbulence calms and eventually the jet lands with everything and everyone unharmed.

The goal was to shutdown a group of mutant hunters and rescue their victims. The worst part was they had mutants on their side too. Good money you guessed. It shouldn't be too hard of a mission but knowing yourself anything could go wrong. You followed the team in, fighting with everything you had.

Logan had stuck by your side since you got here. Keeping his distance but always watching you. His super senses and metal claws made him their number one target. Suppress the Wolverine. They were no match for him though. But Logan's focus seemed to wane as they sent more people after him. A mutant who could make copies of himself did their best to confuse and take Logan down.

"Watch out!" You shout and Logan dodges another attack.

However you get shoved to the ground before you can say anything else. You send a blast of fire at your attacker but they wave it off. So this is the other mutant. The two of you become locked in combat. Fire meeting fire with no clear winner. It isn't until Jean’s voice shouts through your comms that you find the upper hand. They had found the kids and were bringing them back to the ship. It was a losing battle and you think the hunters were staring to realize that. Calling for a retreat.

You can't let them get away. If they get away then all of this is for nothing. They'll rebuild, they'll hurt more people. You notice a gas tank nearby by their vehicle. You were always good at making things explode. Usually on accident but fuck it, might as well try on purpose now.

"Get to safety and get out of here!" You run past the team as you chase after the retreating foes.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Logan calls as he helps a kid get onto the jet.

You ignore him, running as fast as you can. Just one big blast should get that thing exploding. God this was so stupid but its the only thing you can think of. You fucked up the door, you made a mess of the kitchen, you hurt Logan. All you do is ruin things. You're a Jinx and for once you can try and do something good. Even if it kills you.

As the car starts to drive past you channel all your power and launch it at the gas tank. For a second its like everything is in slow motion. You hear Logan roar, turning back only to see him running towards you. Suddenly everything gets really hot and then.

Nothing.

In the medbay

The first thing you feel when you can finally feel things again was how uncomfortable you were. An itchy blanket, itchy arms. Your back hurt and your head was killing you. When you opened your eyes all you see are the bandages wrapped around your arms and legs.

There were cards and flowers sitting on your bedside table and to your left was Logan. He's got his feet up on your bed and he was squished into a chair. His head bowed and his arms crossed. You try to sit up but start to wheeze. The heart monitor starts to beep wildly and Logan jolts awake.

"Sit back down." He pushes you back onto the bed and you try and breathe. After a little bit your heart rate steadies and Logan seems to calm down.

"What happened?" You ask and Logan clenches his jaw.

"You blew yourself up that's what fucking happened." Your memories were slowly getting pieced together.

"I blew up the gas tank. I wanted to stop them from escaping." You say as you recount what led you to the hospital bed.

"Well you stopped them and then almost killed yourself in the process. You had severe burns, a concussion, you were bleeding everywhere. I picked you up in my arms and you were coated in blood." He growls.

The words I'm sorry almost fall out of your mouth but you remember what Logan said that day on the lake. If you're being honest you aren't sorry either. You did what you thought you had to do.

"I'm a Jinx Logan. You said it yourself. I used my destruction to help this time." Logan winces when you remind him of his harsh words.

He wasn't in the right state of mind when he said them. Flashbacks of drowning, of the pain he went through. Being submerged in water and sinking were usually the scenes of his nightmares and for it to happen in real life. It was awful. But that doesn't change the fact he lashed out, he hurt you.

"I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that." Logan gently brushes the bandages on your arms. The scar from when he cut your arm in the lake peeks out from your bandages. He let his fear get the best of him in the water.

"I've hurt a lot of people, sometimes on purpose. Sometimes on accident.” His eyes never leaving your scar. “You’re not a Jinx. You’re perfect.”

"I still make a mess." Logan cups your face and studies a stitched up wound on your forehead.

God when that gas tank exploded. Even he was blown back by the force. He ran to your still body. Ash and pieces of metal were scattered across the field. You're lucky you didn't get fucking impaled. Your body was limp. Dirt and blood caked your face so much that he couldn't tell where you were hurt.

He carried you back to the jet, your blood staining his suit as he laid you down. He listened for your heartbeat for a second he swore it stopped. The longest second of his life as he waited to hear that soft beating.

"Why are you still here?" You just don't understand. How he can be sitting here after everything you've done. All the problems you caused.

"A little mess isn't gonna scare me sweetheart, I like your mess. I like you." He tilts your chin up and kisses you. You're taken by surprise but it's certainly welcome as your eyes flutter closed.

The heart rate monitor starts to beep faster as Logan leans over you. Your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him closer. Logan's grip tightens on the hospital bed railing. He's too lost in the taste of your lips to notice. You tug on his hair and his claws shoot out, cutting one of your IV wires.

A loud beeping blares through the room as Logan jumps back from you. You cover your mouth and laugh. Not even in your sweetest moments can you catch a break. Logan sheaths his claws and shakes his head in disbelief, joining in your laughter.

Jean rushes in with a panicked look on your face. It morphs into confusion when she sees the two of you laughing as your IV drips to the ground. She quickly fixes your IV and gives both of you a scolding for not letting anyone know you were awake.

"Keep your hands and claws to yourself. I'll be back later Jinx." She eyes Logan who puts his hands up. Smirking at you as she leaves.

"You know we could call you something else." Logan suggests. You think for a while before shaking your head.

"I think I like it." It reminds you of your faults yes but this has something that's followed you for the longest time.

You supposedly bring bad luck but you can try and counteract it every day by doing something nice. Plus maybe with Logan your luck might turn around. Maybe. As long as you steer clear of any lakes.

"Alright, but I think sweetheart has a nice ring to it." He says with a grin.

"Oh you want everyone to call me sweetheart?" You tease. Logan leans over and kisses you again.

"No. Only I get to call you that." Bad luck you may bring but Logan doesn't care.

You're a Jinx but you're his jinx and he loves every part of you. The good and the bad. So what's a little bad luck? If it means he gets to be yours then he'd happily be your lucky charm for the rest of your lives.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett angst #logan howlett fluff

904 notes · View notes

mayfriend · 17 days ago

Text

UPDATE: Mother of five (one newborn) in Gaza without shelter or food! (Vetted)

At the start of November, I made a post about Samira (@samiraaymaan) and her family in Gaza — Samira has had her baby, a little boy, but all the money raised so far had to go towards getting her a caesarean section.

Now Samira is once again without funds to feed her children or herself -- as of today (22nd December 2024), Samira hasn't eaten in three days, and is too weak to breastfeed her newborn -- and the occupation forces are demanding that the starving family must leave where they are currently sheltering due to the ongoing shelling in Nuseirat in order to survive.

Samira and her family urgently need support. Since I posted the last time, we managed to raise 2k for Samira and her family, and got Samira 10% closer to her goal, money which helped save Samira's life and that of her newborn baby boy: now the two of them, plus Samira's four other children, are relying on us again.

It is in no way fair that Samira is not able to rest or eat or recover from childbirth, or that she is forced to reach out to strangers on the Internet in the hopes of even the slightest relief, but it's what is happening.

I know it is Christmas soon, I know that things are tight for many people, but if watching an ongoing genocide for over a year has been exhausting, demoralising and soul-destroying for those of us lucky enough to live in safety, it is impossible to overstate the impact of those actually in Gaza experiencing it.

Please, if you have even $5 USD or equivalent to spare, consider sending it to Samira so she and her children can escape the latest round of bombings, buy flour so they can eat, get a tent to shelter in and raise funds for future evacuation.

I'm not sure what else to say, but please. Please. As Samira said to me: "what else is there to say? [We are] dying from cold, hunger and pain." If there was ever a moment for action, this is it.

The link to Samira's gofundme is here. At time of writing, it is at just over $5k ($5,022 on the 22nd December 2024) but again, all that money has been withdrawn to pay for Samira's caesarean section. She is starting from scratch!

If you are able to donate at all, please do, but if not reblogging this post and sharing the fundraiser with those who are able to spare something is still a great help and something everyone can do.

Thank you so much for caring about Samira and her children ❤️

#palestine #important #boost #verified #genocide #childbirth #samira ayman #samiraaymaan #gofundme #90 ghost #free palestine #all eyes on rafah #gaza

452 notes · View notes

kiwriteswords · 16 days ago

Note

Could I request an Aaron Hotchner x Reader story where Reader is sunshine reader in a way like she is a hugger. She loves hugs and is very affectionate and in tune with her emotions. Hotch is taken back by it at first and begins to get used to it—needing her hugs at the end of the day!

Every touch is a redefining phrase [Aaron Hotchner x Affectionate!Fem!Reader]

Masterlist || Ao3||Word Count: 5k|| AN: I loved writing this one!

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, canon-typical themes, bau!reader, Aaron Hotchner's POV, touch deprived Hotch, Affectionate Reader, 5 + 1 trope

Summary: 5 times an affectionate reader showed a touch-starved Aaron Hotchner affection, plus 1 time Aaron Hotchner shows reader affection....with a bonus scene!

In the dimly lit corridors of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, Aaron Hotchner paced slowly, his brow furrowed deep in thought after a particularly grueling day. The team had just closed a tough case, one that had stretched their mental and emotional fibers to their limits. It had been his job, as always, to remain the stoic anchor, the unflappable leader who guided his team through the storm. But some days, the weight was heavier, and the cracks in his armor felt wider.

As he passed by the bullpen, his eyes inadvertently caught the lively interaction around one of the desks. There you were, seamlessly woven into the fabric of his team. Hotch noticed how effortlessly you lifted spirits; with a kind word to Reid, a gentle pat on Rossi's back, or a knowing smile towards JJ that seemed to wash away the shadows of the day. To Penelope, you offered a bright laugh that echoed warmth, and with Derek or Emily, a light-hearted tease that brought out their best grins. It was as if you had always been there, a missing piece that had finally clicked into place, completing the intricate puzzle that was his team.

Hotch had always prided himself on his observational skills, but it wasn’t until recently, observing your interactions, that he realized just how integral you had become. Not just in the professional sense, but in a way that breathed a softer edge into the hardened facade of the BAU.

He continued to watch, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his usually stern mouth. It was then, perhaps by fate or fortunate timing, that you looked up and caught his gaze. The smile you offered him then was different—deeper, more personal. It acknowledged his silent presence and the unspoken hardships of his role.

Without a moment's hesitation, you excused yourself from the group and approached him. Hotch straightened, preparing to retreat behind his usual formalities, but the earnest concern in your eyes halted him.

"You look like you could use this more than anyone today," you said softly, stepping into his personal space with a cautious, but undeniably affectionate, energy.

Before he could protest or construct a wall of professional detachment, you wrapped your arms around him in a gentle, yet firm hug. It was an affectionate gesture, simple in its intent but profound in its impact. Hotch stiffened momentarily, unaccustomed to such displays at work, especially directed towards him. But then, slowly, the rigid lines of his posture softened, and he found himself returning the embrace. It was a rare acceptance of comfort, a silent admission of his own vulnerability.

In that quiet corridor, with the soft hum of the distant city filtering through the windows, Aaron Hotchner allowed himself a moment of human frailty. The warmth of your hug seeped into him, loosening the tight bands of tension that had wound around his chest. It was unexpected, this simple human connection, and he didn't realize how starved he had been for such affection—how touch, a basic human need, had been so scarce in his life lately.

When you finally stepped back, there was a mutual understanding in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the strength and solace found in simple human touch. Your smile was reassuring, not pitying, empowering him rather than making him feel exposed.

"Thank you," he managed to say, his voice lower than usual, touched with a rare warmth. "I... didn't realize how much I needed that."

You nodded, your expression filled with a gentle kindness that didn't need words. Hotch watched as you returned to the team, seamlessly resuming your role as their uplifting force. As he turned to head back to his office, a subtle shift in his stride, there was a lightness in his steps that hadn’t been there before.

In the solitude of his office, Aaron Hotchner sat behind his desk, allowing himself a moment to reflect. The day had been hard, yes, but the evening brought a revelation wrapped in a simple gesture of affection. Maybe, just maybe, he thought, this was what his team had been missing. And perhaps, he had been missing it too.

II.

Weeks passed since the incident in the hallway, and the relentless wheel of cases continued to turn. Each case brought its own challenges, its own darkness that the BAU team diligently worked to dispel. Yet, even as victories were won and communities restored, the emotional toll on each member, especially Hotch, mounted imperceptibly.

One late evening, after a particularly draining case involving a child victim—cases that always hit too close to home for Hotch—he found himself last in the office, paperwork strewn across his desk as he attempted to finalize reports. The clock ticked past midnight, a silent testament to the loneliness of leadership. Hotch’s office was dimly lit, the soft glow of his desk lamp casting long shadows across the room.

You had noticed his prolonged hours, the way his shoulders seemed to bear an ever-increasing weight. That night, instead of heading home with the rest of the team, you lingered. With a gentle knock on his open office door, you broke the stillness of his concentration.

“You’re burning the midnight oil again, Hotch,” you observed, leaning against the doorframe, your voice carrying a lilt of concern mixed with a gentle chiding.

Hotch looked up, slightly surprised to see you still there. He offered a tired smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just finishing up,” he replied, his voice a low rumble in the quiet.

You didn’t move to leave; instead, you stepped inside, your presence filling the room with a comforting warmth. “You need to take a break, even if it’s just for a few minutes. Come on, walk with me to the break room. I promise the coffee is terrible, but the company isn’t.”

Reluctantly, Hotch rose from his chair, his movements stiff from hours of sitting. The two of you walked down the quiet hallway, the sound of your footsteps a soft echo in the empty building. Reaching the break room, you poured two pitiful excuses for coffee, handing one over with a sympathetic grimace.

Hotch accepted it with a grateful nod, the steam from the cup warming his face. You both leaned against the counter, sipping the bitter brew in companionable silence. Then, almost hesitantly, you placed your hand lightly on his arm, a silent offer of support.

“It’s tough, isn’t it? Being the one everyone looks up to, carrying all this weight alone?” you asked softly, your eyes meeting his with an understanding that went beyond mere words.

Hotch’s arm under your hand tensed initially, but as he met your gaze, something in him relaxed. It was as if your touch reassured him that it was okay to not always be the rock, to not always have to stand alone against the tide.

“Yes, it can be… overwhelming at times,” he admitted. The honesty in his voice more for himself than for you. He paused, considering his next words carefully. “And thank you, for… this,” he gestured slightly with his coffee cup, encompassing the late-night walk, the coffee, your comforting touch.

You smiled, your hand squeezing his arm gently before letting go. “You’re not alone, Hotch. We’re a team, remember? And sometimes, the team carries the leader just as much as the leader carries the team.”

The simplicity of your statement the sincerity in your voice, struck a chord within him. It was a reminder of the mutual support that formed the foundation of their team, a foundation that you had become an integral part of.

As you both returned to the quiet of the office, Hotch felt a subtle shift within him. The weight he carried seemed a little lighter, the path a little less solitary. And as he watched you walk back to your desk with a lightness in your step, he realized how much your presence had begun to mean to him—not just as a supportive colleague but as someone who could see through the armor he wore every day.

Maybe, Hotch thought as he settled back into his work with a newfound ease, maybe what he needed was right here all along, and perhaps, just perhaps, it was time to let that support in a little more.

III.

After a physically intense confrontation on a case that ended with Aaron Hotchner being thrown against a wall, the BAU team returned to Quantico wearied but victorious. Hotch, his usual composed self, dismissed his throbbing headache as a minor inconvenience, focusing instead on the paperwork that needed his attention. But you noticed. You always noticed when something was off, especially with him.

Late in the evening, as the office grew quiet with the departure of the team, you walked into Hotch’s office. He was hunched over a report, the dim light accentuating the strain in his eyes.

"Hotch, you need to take a break," you said, your tone firm yet filled with a gentle concern that he found harder to deflect than usual.

"I’m fine, just need to finish this up," Hotch replied without looking up, his voice a low grumble.

You didn’t buy his dismissal. Moving closer, you leaned against his desk, your presence unavoidable. "You’re not fine. I saw you hit your head. Let me at least check your pupils," you insisted, reaching for the small flashlight you’d started carrying after joining the BAU.

With a resigned sigh, Hotch finally leaned back in his chair and allowed you to hold his gaze as you shone the light briefly in each eye. His pupils responded normally, but the concern in your eyes didn’t wane. You reached out, your hand brushing against his forehead to check for any signs of swelling or deeper injury. Your touch was light, but to Hotch, it felt like a balm to the harshness of his day.

"You don’t have to always be the strongest one in the room, you know," you murmured as you withdrew your hand, your eyes searching his.

There was something about your words, softly spoken with an earnest warmth, that caught Hotch off-guard. He was used to being the pillar for others to lean on, not the other way around. Yet, as he sat there under your careful scrutiny, he couldn’t deny the comfort that your concern brought.

"Why don’t you let me drive you home tonight? Just to be safe," you suggested, already gathering some of his belongings as if it was decided.

Hotch wanted to protest—to insist that he was capable of taking care of himself—but the fatigue was gnawing at him, and the ease of your offer was too tempting to resist. "Alright," he conceded, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his lips, acknowledging the small victory in your eyes.

The drive to his place was quiet, the silence comfortable. When you arrived, you didn’t immediately leave as he expected. Instead, you followed him to the door, hesitating as he unlocked it.

"Would you like to come in for coffee? It’s the least I can do after making you drive all the way here," Hotch found himself saying, the invitation surprising even himself.

You nodded, stepping inside his home—a place few from work had ever entered. The domestic setting shifted something between you. In his kitchen, as you both moved to prepare the coffee, the space closed in, filled with a new, unspoken acknowledgment of the care between you.

Sitting across from him at his small kitchen table, you handed him a mug, your fingers brushing against his with a deliberate tenderness. "You know, it’s okay to rely on others sometimes, even for us who are used to being strong," you said, your voice low and comforting.

Hotch looked at you then, really looked at you. The soft lighting of the kitchen illuminated features filled with genuine affection and concern. He realized how natural it felt to have you here, in his personal space, offering care he was so unaccustomed to receiving.

"Thank you, for everything tonight," he said sincerely, the weight of his roles—unit chief, father, protector—temporarily lifted by your presence.

As you smiled, something in Hotch’s tightly controlled heart shifted. Maybe it was the warmth of the kitchen, or the way you looked sitting there across from him, but he felt a pull, a desire for something more than the solitude he’d so long accepted as part of his life.

And in that moment, with the simple act of sharing a late-night coffee, the distance between professional and personal began to blur, hinting at a potential future neither of you had yet voiced, but which suddenly seemed within reach.

IV.

The Behavioral Analysis Unit had seen its fair share of tense days, fraught with the grim realities of their work, but today was different. Today was a good day—a successful resolution to a complicated case, with the team working like a well-oiled machine. Spirits were high as they returned to the office, a rare buzz of laughter and light chatter filling the air. Yet, amidst the camaraderie and shared relief, Aaron Hotchner found himself anticipating something else, something more personal: the simple, affectionate gestures you offered so freely.

As unit chief, Hotch had always maintained a careful, composed demeanor, but lately, he found himself increasingly aware of how much he looked forward to those moments of kindness from you. He wasn’t naturally inclined towards affection; his career, his past, and his role as a father to Jack had demanded a more stoic approach to life. But your presence had subtly begun to alter the landscape of his daily experiences.

Standing by his office window, he watched as you interacted with the team, your laughter mingling with theirs, your hand resting briefly on Morgan’s shoulder in congratulations, your high-five with Garcia, and the gentle way you listened to Reid’s excited ramble about the statistical probabilities they had overcome. Each gesture seemed to weave you deeper into the fabric of the team, and Hotch couldn’t help but feel a warmth spread through him—a warmth he hadn’t known he’d been missing until you had started to fill that void.

When you finally turned towards his office, your smile bright and eyes shining with the success of the day, Hotch felt a pull in his chest. As you approached, his heart unconsciously beat a fraction faster, a reaction he was still coming to terms with.

“Hotch, we did it!” you exclaimed, stepping into his office with an energy that seemed to light up the dimly lit room. Without hesitation, and perhaps because the day's mood lifted all semblance of the usual barriers, you wrapped your arms around him in a celebratory hug.

Hotch stiffened for a mere second, old habits dying hard, but almost immediately relaxed into the embrace. Your hug was warm and sincere, and he found himself not wanting to step back too quickly. As you pulled away, your hands lingered on his arms, ensuring he was truly sharing in the moment with you.

“It was a team effort, but you played a crucial part,” Hotch found himself saying, his voice softer than usual. He was learning, slowly, how to return the warmth you so effortlessly gave.

“I just keep everyone on track,” you replied modestly, your hands finally dropping to your sides, but your smile remaining. “But seeing you smile like that? It’s definitely a highlight.”

Hotch was momentarily caught off guard. He hadn’t realized his expression had softened so visibly, nor that you were so attuned to his usually restrained emotions. “Well,” he started, clearing his throat slightly, “your positivity—it’s infectious.”

You chuckled, a sound that seemed to resonate in the quiet after the day’s chaos. “I’m glad it helps. But honestly, it’s days like today that remind me why we do what we do. And having a leader who keeps us grounded and focused—it makes all the difference, Hotch.”

The way you said his name, with a respect and a hint of something deeper, stirred something in him. It was a connection, palpable and growing stronger with each shared experience, each moment of exchanged comfort. Hotch was usually a man of few words, but as he stood there with you, he realized that your affection, once something he hadn’t known he needed, had become something he deeply valued.

As you turned to leave, ready to rejoin the celebrations outside, Hotch found himself speaking almost without thinking. “Thank you, for everything.”

You paused, then looked over your shoulder, your smile softening. “Anytime, Hotch.”

Watching you walk away, Hotch felt a sense of gratitude. Not just for the successful case, but for the unexpected gift of your presence in his life—something that had become as vital to him as the very work they did together. And as he stepped out to join the rest of his team, Aaron Hotchner felt a lightness in his step, a readiness to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that with you by his side, even the tough days might feel a little less daunting.

The intensity of the field operation had escalated unexpectedly, with the BAU team working to apprehend a highly volatile unsub. Aaron Hotchner, ever the leader, had taken point, his focus as sharp as it was relentless. Yet, in a split-second decision that had more to do with instinct than analysis, he found himself entering the building first, with minimal backup—a move that was dangerously close to reckless.

The operation concluded successfully, the unsub in custody and no injuries on their team, but the aftermath brought its own storm. Back at the BAU, the air was thick with adrenaline and relief, yet there was an undercurrent of tension, particularly from you.

Hotch could feel your eyes on him long before you approached. When you finally did, your steps were quick, your posture rigid with a kind of restrained energy. He braced himself, anticipating a debrief or perhaps a tactical critique, but what came was neither.

"Hotch, what were you thinking?" Your voice was low, charged with an emotion he hadn't often heard directed at him. It was anger, yes, but there was something more—something deeper, more personal.

"I made a judgment call," Hotch replied, his tone even, trying to maintain professional detachment. "It was necessary to—"

"Necessary?" you interrupted, stepping closer, your voice rising slightly with frustration. "You could have been killed, Aaron. What then?"

The use of his first name in such a tone caught him off guard, its impact silencing him for a moment. It wasn't just anger for a perceived tactical error; it was fear, raw and unmasked, the fear of losing him.

"You know the risks, we all do. I did what I thought best at the moment," Hotch tried to explain, his voice firmer, attempting to steer the conversation back to professional grounds.

But you shook your head, the movement sharp, dismissive of his justification. "I know the risks. I know we all face them every day but watching you... You didn't have to be the first one through that door, not without backup."

Hotch watched as you struggled for composure, your breaths deep as you worked to calm yourself. It was then he realized how deeply woven his safety was with your emotions, how much you cared—not just as a colleague but as someone who might bear deeper feelings for him.

"I don't know whether to yell at you or just..." Your voice trailed off, and suddenly, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you with a few brisk steps, and wrapped your arms around him in a firm hug.

Hotch stiffened, surprise overtaking him for a fraction of a second before he slowly returned the embrace. His arms around you felt both foreign and utterly right. He could feel your heart beating fast against his chest, your breath warm through the fabric of his shirt.

When you finally stepped back, there was a vulnerability in your eyes that mirrored his own internal conflict. "I'm sorry," you said, your voice softer now, "I just... I couldn't stand the thought of losing you."

Hotch took a deep breath, his usual composure tempered by the emotional intensity of the moment. "I understand," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry for causing you that fear."

As you nodded, a silent agreement passed between you, a mutual recognition of something more than just professional concern—a deep, personal connection that neither of you could deny.

That night, as Hotch lay awake, replaying the day's events, your words echoed in his mind. The fear in your voice, the relief in your hug—it all painted a picture he hadn't allowed himself to see fully until now. It wasn't just about duty or protecting others; it was about protecting what was growing between you two, something fragile yet potent.

Perhaps, Hotch thought, it was time to explore this new, uncharted territory, not as a leader or an agent, but simply as Aaron, a man who might just need someone as much as they needed him.

In the quiet aftermath of a routine day at the BAU, Aaron Hotchner found himself lingering in the bullpen longer than usual. The files were all processed, the team had largely dispersed, and the soft hum of the office equipment filled the space with a gentle, familiar buzz. But tonight, he wasn’t drawn to the solitude of his office or the call of the paperwork that always awaited him. Instead, his gaze kept drifting towards your desk, where you were methodically organizing your case notes.

The past weeks had subtly shifted the dynamics of your interactions. Each shared glance, every quiet conversation had slowly woven a deeper connection between you two—a connection Hotch had grown to rely on more than he'd anticipated. He realized, with a clarity that was both thrilling and daunting, that he was no longer merely receiving your affectionate gestures out of happenstance or your innate kindness. Now, he found himself seeking them out, craving the warmth and solace they offered.

"Staying late again, Hotch?" Your voice broke through his reverie as you stood up, stretching slightly after hours of sitting.

"Just wrapping up," Hotch replied, his voice steady, though his heart beat slightly faster with the decision he was about to make. "Actually, could we talk for a minute?"

Your brow furrowed lightly with concern, but you nodded, walking over to where he stood. "Of course. Everything okay?"

He led the way to his office, holding the door open for you before closing it gently behind him. The privacy of the office felt suddenly significant, the space between them charged with all the unspoken words of the past months.

Hotch took a deep breath, his usual composure battling with the need to express feelings that were far from professional. "I wanted to thank you," he began, watching your reaction closely. "For everything these past weeks... for your support."

You smiled, a soft, genuine expression that made his heart skip. "I’m always here for the team," you replied, then added more softly, "for you."

"It’s more than that," Hotch said, stepping closer. His voice was low, each word measured but heavy with emotion. "I find myself looking forward to our interactions. Not just because of the comfort you bring, but because I... I value you. Greatly."

The air seemed to shift as he spoke, the room growing quieter, the distance between you more profound yet somehow closer. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, and in them, he saw a reflection of his own uncertainty mingled with hope.

"I’ve come to rely on your presence," Hotch continued, his usual restraint giving way to a vulnerability he seldom showed. "Not just as a teammate, but as someone very important to me. I’m not sure what that means for us, but I needed to be honest about my feelings."

Your response was soft, a whisper that filled the room with more warmth than the dim light could provide. "I’m glad you told me, Aaron. Because I feel the same way. I was just waiting for you to see it, too."

In that confession, a weight lifted from Hotch’s shoulders, a burden he hadn’t fully acknowledged he’d been carrying. Without another word, he stepped forward, closing the remaining space between you, his movements tentative but driven by a newfound courage. When he wrapped his arms around you, it was with a gentleness born of deep affection and respect.

You returned the embrace, your arms encircling him, offering not just comfort but a promise. Hotch held you closer, a sigh of relief and contentment escaping him. Here, in the quiet solidarity of his office, he allowed himself to simply feel—to embrace the affection and connection that had grown between you, no longer just his sanctuary from the demands of his job, but a central part of his life he no longer wished to be without.

As you both pulled away, the look you shared was one of mutual understanding and anticipation. No words were needed to affirm the change; it was as profound as it was silent, marking a new beginning that neither of you would have to face alone again.

+ bonus.

Weeks into their newfound relationship, Aaron Hotchner found himself navigating a world that felt both profoundly familiar and refreshingly new. Each day brought with it the usual challenges of leading the BAU, but now there was an undercurrent of anticipation for the quieter moments he could share with you—moments that, until recently, he hadn't allowed himself to fully acknowledge or embrace.

It was late on a Thursday evening when Hotch realized the day had gotten away from him. The caseload had been heavier than usual, the paperwork nearly endless, and he had spent hours in a tense negotiation during a standoff that had thankfully ended without incident. As the office slowly emptied, Hotch felt the weight of the day pressing down on him, a familiar exhaustion that now, thankfully, had a remedy he was no longer hesitant to seek.

He found you in your office, wrapping up your own day. The soft glow of your desk lamp illuminated your focused expression, a sight that now brought him an immense sense of peace. Hotch knocked lightly on the open door, his presence causing you to look up with a smile that instantly eased some of the tension in his shoulders.

"Hey," you greeted, your voice warm. "Everything okay?"

Hotch stepped inside, his hands in his pockets, his posture relaxed yet revealing a hint of his need. "Could use a moment with you," he admitted, something he might have struggled to voice before, but now felt right, necessary.

You nodded, understanding immediately. You stood and approached him, your hands finding his in a gentle but firm grasp. "Let’s go for a walk," you suggested, and Hotch merely nodded in agreement, grateful.

The night was cool and clear as you both walked in silence to a nearby park, a route that had become a cherished routine. The quiet of the evening was a stark contrast to the day's chaos, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps together grounding him.

After a few minutes, you stopped at a secluded bench, turning to face him. "What’s on your mind, Aaron?" you asked, your concern evident.

"It’s nothing specific," Hotch began, his gaze meeting yours under the streetlights. "Today was just... long. And I found myself thinking about this moment—just being here with you." He paused, his voice softening. "I guess I’m still getting used to the fact that I can ask for this, for us."

You smiled, stepping closer, your hands reaching up to gently cradle his face. "You can always ask, Aaron. Whenever you need to feel connected, or just need to escape for a while. I’m here," you reassured him, your touch as soothing as your words.

Hotch leaned into your touch, a contented sigh escaping him. "I’m glad," he murmured, closing his eyes briefly to savor the warmth of your hands, the affection in your gesture. "I never knew how much I needed this... needed you."

Then, impulsively, perhaps driven by the depth of his emotions, Hotch wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace that spoke volumes. It was an embrace of gratitude, of recognition of the space you had come to occupy in his life—not just as a partner but as a source of strength and comfort.

You hugged him back just as tightly, your own sigh of contentment mingling with the night air. "I need you too, Aaron," you whispered, words that fortified the bond between you, sealing the promise of mutual support and affection.

As you both eventually pulled away, there was a shared smile, a silent acknowledgment of the journey ahead—of challenges to face and joys to embrace, together. Hotch realized then, with a clarity that filled him with a profound sense of peace, that this—this simple, beautiful exchange of affection—was now an integral part of his life, a part he cherished deeply and would safeguard with all he had.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

@person-005

@iyskgd

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #hotch x reader #kiwriteswords #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfictionc #criminal minds imagine #criminalminds #aaronhotchner #Aaron Hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner reader insert #criminal minds fluff

522 notes · View notes