#I know Vincent himself wasn’t all that happy but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

charliedawn · 7 months

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Can you do one with the slashers (including Five) where she's very talkative and is always happy, like she loves to cook for others, always has a smile, basically a golden retriever and how they would react to her?

🤞- anon

Michael Myers :

Michael didn’t know how to react at first. He kept staring at you and you thought he was even irritated by your cheerful behaviour.

You were sad to see that no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t find a way to speak with him.

But one day, he entered the kitchen and wordlessly started watching you. You asked if he needed anything, but he didn’t seem to want anything else than to watch you.

You indulged and soon, you found out that Michael seemed to be learning. He kept watching the movements of your hands when you cut and cooked. And when you had your back turned, he would pick up where you left off and try to help you.

Michael is not exactly talkative, but once he warms up to you ? He’ll try his best to help you.

Bo Sinclair :

Bo wasn’t used to having a sunshine in his life. He barely talked to you at first and preferred to keep his distance.

He worked on his car. He ignored you most of the time, but you were persistent.

You would come into the garage and bring him cookies almost every week. And you kept him company whenever you could.

You were a talker, but he didn’t mind. He likes talkers.

You *sitting down on a table nearby and pushes a plate with a sandwich on it towards him* : "You should eat something."

Him *smiles and chuckles before tilting his cap at you and taking a bite of the sandwich* : "Thanks, lovely. Ya too good with me, sun cake."

"And one day all that kindness is gonna come to bite ya in the ass." He thinks, but doesn’t say. He simply looks at your beaming smile and winning attitude and shakes his head.

He will keep his mouth shut—for now.

Vincent Sinclair :

Vincent didn’t really know what to make of you at first. He kept himself busy in his room and rarely got out for anything else than mandatory community meals.

And when he did, he didn’t speak.

He just stared at you. And whenever you would talk to him, he would either ignore you or look away.

Vincent is not very social, but he would ask his brother to handle the talking part when he needs something…

Bo *approaches you* : "Hum…Vincent asked me to give you this ?" *gives you a wax figurine*

You *smile before looking at Vincent—hidden behind Bo—with a bright smile* : "Thank you, Vincent !"

Him *blushes profusely*

He would eventually get used to you, but it would take a lot of time and patience for the both of you to end up close enough for him to actually trust you.

Jason Voorhees :

Jason stayed away at first, but he did observe you. His eyes would follow you wherever you went, and specifically when interacting with the other slashers.

He would also never make the first step to properly introduce himself. But, he’d be happy to see you try to come towards him.

You *smile* : "Hey there, Jason. What are you carving today ?"

Jason *smiles shyly before showing you a small wooden frog figurine*

Once you gained his trust, he’d protect you from the other slashers—especially from Freddy.

If you’re the golden retriever ? He’ll be the German Shepherd. One word from you and he’ll kill whoever you want.

Freddy Krueger :

Unlike the rest of the slashers, Freddy has no boundaries or shyness. He’ll be up in your face from the start with the biggest sh*t-eating grin ever and introduce himself to you.

Freddy *extends his hand forward* : "Helllllo there, gorgeous. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes ?! Name’s Freddy. What’s yours ?"

Creep alert.

Freddy is NOT a decent person. And he doesn’t know how to react when it comes to sunshine people. He’d be all flirty jokes and dirty talk.

Freddy *clearly staring at your behind* : "Hey there, peach. How are you doing this morning ?"

You *turn around with a smile* : "Very good. Thank you, Freddy. How about you ?"

Him *seems confused* : "Huh ? I was talking to your sweet a—!"

Jason *mighty punches him in the face*

As I said, Freddy is the master of discomfort.

Yeah…Don’t meet Freddy first.

Norman Bates :

Norman loved your enthusiasm and your want to help. He asked you to help him multiple times and you always did with a smile on your face.

You took care of the residents in his motel and never complained. You knew who he was, but you never let that stop you from caring about him.

He grew soft on you, and even though he was meant to kill you at first…He couldn’t.

Instead, he kept you around and found a worthy companion in you. He brought you on his daily walks and even opened up on his most secret thoughts.

Even his mother grew fond of you as she learned to respect you and the effort you put in the motel and in taking care of her son.

Norman *smiles as he gives you a cup of you favourite drink* : "Here you go, darling."

You *smile and thank him*

Jack Torrance :

Him : "Well well…Aren’t you simply delightful, sugar pie ?"

Jack found the situation funny. They had had many nurses come and go, but none of them as sweet and positive as you.

When you entered the kitchen, he comically pulled out sunglasses from his breast pocket and put them on his nose while watching you prepare breakfast.

Jack is usually the first one up. He likes to have his morning coffee before anyone else because he doesn’t like loud noises in the morning.

He usually never eats breakfast, but you actually forced him to after you noticed how he seemed to never eat.

Him : "I don’t need that much food, sunshine. I can survive a day with just coffee in my tank. But, thanks for the concern."

To which you simply made him breakfast everyday until he finally decided to eat. Just because he was tired of seeing your sad face when you had to throw away the food.

Brahms Heelshire :

Brahms got attached to you from the start.

He saw you as a chance to get attached to someone, the occasion to replace Greta.

And even better, you weren’t scared of him and helped him take care of his doll. You fixed him meals and brought them to his room when he didn’t feel like eating with the others. You willingly spent time with him. And he was grateful for it.

Him *grabs you from behind and hugs you tightly*

You *smiles and kisses his forehead* : Good morning, Brahms."

Brahms *hugs you tighter*

He is a physical affection kinda boy. He loves hugs, kisses and scratches on his scalp.

And once he knows you are safe ? He’ll follow you around like a lost puppy and carry you around if you’d let him.

Pennywise/Penny :

Pennywise *gives you the side eye* : "…Don’t smile so much."

You *puzzled* : "What ?"

Pennywise *growls* : "Your smile. It’s annoying. Why do you always smile so much ?"

You waited a few seconds before answering him.

"The slashers deserve someone who can smile with them—even you."

It left Pennywise stunned. And you left him with his thoughts. Pennywise normally didn’t mind people smiling because it usually meant dinner for him. But, you didn’t smile at them the same way his old victims did. You knew perfectly well who he was and what he had done. And yet, you still smiled at him without a care in the world. It made him upset because Pennywise doesn’t like things he doesn’t understand.

Unlike Penny who actually loved you from the start. Penny was excited to see someone so fun and outgoing. He quickly got used to you and your cheerful personality.

Five Hargreaves :

Five was actually an old friend of yours. He was the reason you had heard about St Louis in the first place.

He was relieved when you got the job, but he noticed you seemed a little worried.

When he pulled you apart, you confessed that not a lot of the slashers had actually approached you and that most of them seemed to be ignoring you. So, you asked if maybe they didn’t like you for a reason.

But, Five was quick to reassure you.

Him : "The slashers aren’t used to affection. Be patient and they’ll eventually get used to you."

You : "I just hope they’ll like me."

Five *smiles* : "Don’t worry. They’ll like you. I’m sure of it."

Five cheered you up as he bit his lower lip in order to restrain himself from telling you that he was glad that the slashers seemed to leave you alone…because he wanted you safe.

And because you were the only ray of sunshine this hospital had and he didn’t want you to change.

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #norman bates x reader #jack torrance x reader #five hargreaves x reader

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slasherwife · 1 year

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Slashers reaction when their s/o catches them without mask for the first time? Pls and thank you!

s/o catches their slashers without a mask

awww yes!! i must give happy endings to all of these 😭🫶

warnings: extra short bc daddy bo doesn’t wear a mask 🥲💗

thomas hewitt:

He feels guilty

He wasn’t careful and now he’s scarred you from letting you see his scarred face. He’s ashamed he couldn’t keep you from himself 😭❤️‍🩹

And in a way it feels invasive. He feels like he’s been seen naked, and he quickly looks away with the feeling of embarrassment and shame fills him💔

He goes to leave, quickly entering the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

after about a minute of refusing to look at himself in the mirror, he hears gentle breath coming from the other side of the oak wood door.

his better half, asking if he’s okay. that it looked like he saw a ghost, and then laughing. then telling him that you miss him. and that, “by the way, you’re beautiful.”

he starts to cry, smiling, and looks into the mirror at the face that they said was beautiful. 💗💗

jason vorhees:

jason isn’t really self aware like thomas is. he isn’t one to worry about what he looks like anymore 🤗

i mean, he does worry that you won’t find him attractive, but it’s not to the point where he will refuse to ever let you see him with his mask off!

the first time was when he was down by the lake, sitting down washing a trap that had flesh still inside, minding his own💞 he had taken off his mask to breathe freely the lake air.

he had thought you’d been asleep for a long time, inside the cabin. and he had been so threaded in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the door open.

“hi jason” your voice rang out sweetly, slightly caught off guard because his mask was off but nontheless wanting to greet him🫶

he says nothing (obv), but instead of giving you his long soft glance like he usually does, he looks away, and down, almost trying to hide his face as he grows stiff

you grow slightly deflated, but your love for him seems to intensify, and you can’t stop the words before they come out, “you have beautiful eyes.”

jason’s eyes flicker to you, then back to the ground, then pats the ground beside him for you to keep him company 💕💕🥺

michael myers:

this guy is the literally opposite of thomas he does not care at all😭 he is literally so not self aware at all

he likes his mask but sometimes the thing gets real smelly so he has to throw it in dishsoap water yk 🥲

then you come around the corner he’s like “oh hey y/n” literally nothing off about what’s being seen atm 😃😂💞

you TRY to play it cool but at the same time you’re like fangirling over seeing your hot smexy murderer husband without a mask for the first time 💕😇

but at the same time like he probably sleeps without the mask on so i’m assuming y’all sleep separate until now 🥲

if not then you see it so early into the relationship like it’ll be no big deal 😇💕

bo sinclair:

boy doesn’t wear a mask, his face is too hot and sexy to be contained 😍

vincent sinclair:

absolutely horrified. he doesn’t even like being alone without his mask on that much.

has literally considered waxing the actual mask to his face permanently😕❤️‍🩹

he just was repairing it— he got too close to a radiator on accident and needed to repair it. then his baby walked in🥺

hears the door open and IMMEDIATELY flinches away. he knows you caught a glimpse, and he’s terrified, and mortified.

he’s breathing deeply, frozen, stiff, like one of his sculptures. you on the other hand are concerned. 🥹

“darl? is everything okay my love?” you call out softly, so not to startle him💞 he doesn’t answer, and doesn’t move.

“i went looking for some petrol, i knew you wanted some for your art. it’s in the shed.” he noticed that you never called his statues “sculptures” or “wax dolls” like bo always did. you called them “art” 💝💞

“honey you don’t have to hide from me. i will always respect your privacy, i will never ask you to show me your face. but you will never have to hide from me because i love all of you.” 🥹💗

you say this to him and he softens like the wax on his mask. it was within the next few days that he’d rather throw it into the fire than melt it into his skin forever 💞💞

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unreliablesnake · 1 year

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Vincent takes a liking to you, even though you’re loyal to your boss, Winston (Vincent de Gramont x reader)

Summary: You're working closely with Winston, but the Marquis wants you for himself.

Note: I might write an actual chapter about the time Winston and Wick show up in Paris. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button. I don't have a taglist.

Part 2(ish)

Bedside Charon, you were one of Winston’s most trusted employees, an assassin who decided to settle for a quieter life–if there was anything that could be considered quiet in this line of work, that is.

Throughout the conversation, the Marquis’ eyes kept falling on you, watching you as a predator stalked its prey. Winston noticed too. You knew because he gave you a worried look at one point.

After he shot Charon and began to walk out of the room, he stopped next to you and said, “You’re coming with me.” It was an order, not a request. You gave your boss a desperate look, hoping he could say or do something to stop him, but he remained silent. “Are you loyal to the Table? If so, you come with me now. If not, you’ll get a bullet like your colleague,” the Marquis told you coldly.

You soon found out he was going straight back to Paris after this. “I don’t even have clothes or other stuff with me, let me–” you tried, but he stopped you, telling you that he would take you shopping once you arrived to France.

He kept his eyes on you the whole time. On the jet, you couldn’t look up from the magazine you had previously found without meeting his gaze. It was tough not knowing whether he wanted to kill you or study you like a lab rat. Neither sounded like a good option, but you would rather choose the latter to stay alive.

When you landed in Paris, he showed you he wasn’t kidding about the shopping. He had already asked one of his men there to get you something new to wear, along with some necessities you would need to freshen up. Then to your surprise he asked you if you would rather sleep or go shopping, and when you chose to get it over with, he took you to all the best places around the city.

Your entire body froze when he walked over to you to take a closer look at the elegant gown you were wearing in a boutique, his fingers running down from your shoulder to your hips. You gulped, definitely not happy to have this kind of attention, but you didn't say anything. You were like a deer in the headlight, frozen from fear.

For whatever reason, the Marquis insisted on you staying in the bedroom next to his. He told you about his plans for the next day or so, expecting you to follow him around wherever he went, always wearing some fancy clothes.

In the evening his chef prepared delicious meals for the two of you, and he kept you close the whole night, his fingers not-so-accidentally brushing against yours every now and then. It was hard to believe it, but he was clearly flirting with you. Even though a part of you found it flattering, you still couldn't understand what he wanted from you exactly.

He took you to the Opera the next day, but instead of focusing on the performance of the dancer, his eyes were locked on you. “You are beautiful, my love,” he said at one point, shocking you with the pet name. “Do you know why I brought you here?” You didn't know if he was referring to Paris or the opera, but you still shook your head.

Since he didn't elaborate until you got back to his place, your mind was in overdrive by the time you entered his mansion. “Why did you bring me here?” you asked him before he could disappear. Instead of answering, he just smiled at you then pulled you into a kiss.

It was terrible, really. You knew that Winston would be utterly disappointed in you if he found out, but you couldn't resist the Marquis' charm. When his fingers began to look for the zipper of your dress, you knew you were a goner.

#vincent de gramont x reader #marquis vincent de gramont x reader #vincent de gramont #marquis vincent de gramont #marquis de gramont x reader #marquis de gramont #john wick chapter 4 #john wick 4

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starscabaret · 2 months

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☆Meeting Yandere! Vincent ☆

pairing: yandere! Vincent x fem reader

summary: Meeting Vinny <333

warnings: n/a

authors note:

Vincent had brushed into the small town a few months earlier on a contract for his engineering firm. The job paid well and he had little to no attachment anywhere so he made the move. He lived in an upscale condo about 30 minutes out from the actual town he’d be working in. Paid for by the company of course.

He had a routine, call mom once a week, send a letter once a month, go to work every weekday, go to the gym every weekday, grocery shop on Sundays, and get a haircut every 3 weeks. Not much changed for him really unless it was necessary.

He liked it that way, in his free time he drew, invested, and dabbled in a few books and tv. He wouldn’t call himself the happiest man alive, but he was getting by, and his mom was doing well. That’s all he ever wanted.

Just like any other day on the job site Vincent set in his small office inside the mobile trailer going over blueprints and whatnot. That is until you came banging on the flimsy trailer door. Vincent thought the damn police were here. Lo and Behold when he opened the door there you were in pajamas, and slippers, and sleep still in your eyes.

As soon as the door opened you spoke, “Look man, I really was nice at first and didn’t say anything but do y’all have to be so loud at 7 am? It’s waking me and my son.”

Vincent stood there deadpan he didn’t know what to reply. There was nothing he could really do to delay construction in the early hours without derailing the whole project. And normally he would have slammed the door in your face had it been anyone else. But you, you made his heart beat fast and he blanked on a response. Besides the fact that he was a man of very few words.

“Come in.” He said as he pulled you into the office like trailer.

“You seem to be the boss sir, is there anything you can do?” You said while rubbing your eyes.

“You must live in the house a few acres over, what’s your name?” He spoke low and grumbly.

“Yeah I do, it’s a family house but no one gives a shit anymore. All moved off to the big city, scared of the water. Oh, Im f/n l/n” you replied in an annoyed tone.

“I can’t tell them to halt all work in the morning is there anything I can do instead?” He asked, wanting to remedy this. He didn’t want to upset you. You were alluring to him. This was also the most he had spoken to anyone in days.

“You come to explain to my son why you’re disrupting his sleep!” you said with irritation in your voice.

When Vincent got to your home to apologize to your son, he was met with Ben. Ben was a 3-year-old beautiful Doberman.

Vincent was a bit relieved it was a dog and not a child, as he was already daydreaming about how he would give you your first child.

Vincent didn’t speak much or have the best social skills but he knew that his interest in you wasn’t normal. Nor did he know how to express such interest.

Good thing you found him handsome, and took interest in his quiet reserved demeanor. You had to know more, you had to dig past the surface. You were bold and willing to take charge and make the moves. You had never seen a man like him in your town before, or anywhere for that matter.

You were happy you went and complained that morning. Who said complaining didn’t get you anywhere?

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loveandmurders · 10 months

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Hey sorry I was wondering if you would write a fic about the Sinclair Brothers having twin sons or like maybe triplets. How would they treat them? I've seen sinclair dad's but only with girls and I would just like to them with sons

Thank you :)

-👾anon

Hello sweet love, thank you for this very cute request <3

Hope you'll enjoy this <3

HAPPY FAMILY (female reader x poly!Sinclair brothers)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of pregnancy sickness, of labour, mentions of a risky pregnancy for reader and the babies, overprotective parents, fluff.

Getting pregnant wasn’t part of your first plans.

You were living with your three lovers and enjoying yourself, doing chores around town and inside the house, having hobbies and sometimes helping to hunt down victims too. But you never saw yourself as a potential mother. It wasn’t that you didn’t like children, it was just that you didn’t particularly feel ready for it. And you were a little bit worried to have kids in the middle of a ghost town with no hospital nearby…

You knew your men would be more than happy to have children though. Bo was a family man and he needed heirs. You sometimes even suspected him to have a breeding kink. Vincent also wanted children, to make sure the family business would never disappear. And he would love to teach them how to sculpt. Lester loved babies and he would adore playing with kids and showing them cool stuff to do.

One morning you felt a little bit sick and weak. You hadn’t been able to stand the smell of the eggs Bo was cooking either, almost making you throw up. The boys had no idea what was going on, but it worried them. They didn’t like to see you ill or hurt. You weren’t sleeping the greatest either, even in their arms. You tried to deny the possibility of being pregnant until your period didn’t show up.

After a few weeks like that, you asked Lester to buy you a pregnancy test and to not say anything about it to the twins. He was really excited but did his best to keep it to himself. He secretly gave it to you and you went to the bathroom. Of course the test came back positive and you stayed for a long time staring at it while being locked up inside the room. You didn’t know how to feel about it. Lester was putting things away in the kitchen but once he was done, he just couldn’t stop himself from finding you. He knocked at the door.

“Hey, baby” he whispered. You got up and unlocked the door for him. “So?” he asked, trying to read your face.

“Les… I’m pregnant” you said without truly realising it and a bright big smile appeared on his face, he even had happy tears in his eyes. He was so full of joy. He couldn’t believe he was going to be a father. He had never been that happy before. He tightly hugged you before kissing you with fierce passion. You smiled against his lips.

“Ya need to tell the twins” he hummed and you nodded. You weren’t too sure how they were going to react but one thing was certain: they were going to overprotect you.

You sat the twins at the kitchen table while Lester was keeping an eye on Ambrose in case tourists came in. The two men were concerned about what you were going to announce because you had this serious expression upon your face.

“So, you know I’ve been a little bit under the weather lately and I can’t stand some smells anymore and all. And well… I’m pregnant” you finally said. You saw the same excitement lit up in their eyes than in Lester’s earlier that day.

“Ya what?” Bo asked with a smile, just to make sure he heard that right

“I’m carrying your child” you repeated and their happiness was communicating. Both the twins were soon all over you, kissing you and stroking your belly. You thought you were going to enjoy the pregnancy if they were all cuddly with you like that.

You had been right about one thing: the Sinclair men were impossibly overprotective and affectionate with you. One of them needed to always be with you. And they forbad you from doing a lot of the chores you used to. They were very gentle with you, trying their best to never do anything that could upset you. You had always felt like the most important person in their lives, but they proved it to you absolutely every day now you were pregnant.

You had been wrong on one thing: it wasn’t just one child you were carrying for them. You started to notice that when your belly got a lot bigger than it should have been for only one baby. You all agreed you needed to see a doctor. Bo was the one to come with you. He was so proud to play the father in front of the nurses and doctors. He was so proud you were having their babies. You all agreed you would never try to know which one of them was the biological father: they were all Sinclairs anyways.

Twins.

You were expecting twins.

And you almost wanted to kill the doctor when he told Bo you both would need to be very careful with you because it could be a risky pregnancy, especially because it was your first one. Bo wrapped an arm around your shoulder and very seriously nodded at the doctor. He also asked questions, trying to know how to care about you and his children the best he could. You had never seen him act so grave before. When you arrived at the car, you could tell Bo was tense. He was concerned about you and he was concerned that the twins would know the same fate as him and Vincent.

“They’ll be okay” you told him

“Ya’ll be okay too, darl” he replied and you smiled “Ya’ll go at the hospital, and they’ll care for the babies. And if anythin’ happens… Ya know we’ll always chose ya over the babies” he continued and you grabbed his hand. You shushed him.

“Nothing will happen. It won’t be like you and Vince, I’m sure of it. And of course it's a more risky pregnancy than if it was one child, but I know we’ll be fine and happy” you tried to reassure him.

“Ya’re not the one supposed to reassure me. We’ll take an extra good care of ya” he promised and you laughed, which made him arch an eyebrow at you.

“Not sure how ya can be even more extra with me. Any of you” you tenderly smiled at him and he relaxed at your words. He would hate to know you didn’t feel cared for or loved enough.

“Anythin’ for ya, mamma” he hummed and you blushed at the nickname while placing a hand over your stomach.

Your water broke one morning as you were getting up to grab a glass of juice. Bo and Lester brought you to the hospital as fast as they could, not caring about any kind of speed limit. Vincent was quite upset he couldn’t follow you there, but he wanted the best for the twins. He was so afraid that history was going to repeat itself. He didn’t want to create a small mask for one of his kids, he didn’t want to realise he created a monster with his brothers, he didn’t want you to be put into danger either. He knew that it had been very complicated for his mother and that she almost died. The three men had agreed that they would always choose you over the kids, no matter what. But it still would break their hearts to lose them.

You wished Vincent would have been by your side too, but you hoped you would soon be out of the hospital. You already wanted to be home, in your bed, surrounded by your five men. You knew life was going to be so good.

The labour went by a lot better than anticipated.

And the baby boys borned in perfect health conditions. You were exhausted but you asked to see them and Lester and Bo watched them and carried them with such happiness shining in their eyes. Your babies were already so loved. You even forgot about the killing and Ambrose being a ghost town. It was obvious that everything was going to be alright.

Lester left to call Vincent. His hands were too shaky to send a message and it would allow him to babble even if Vincent couldn’t verbally answer. Vinny was too emotional to even write either so it was alright and he was so grateful that everyone was doing good. He fully let go of his work to finish preparing the house. He wanted everything to be perfect so the babies couldn’t get hurt and you wouldn’t need to think about anything. Vincent wanted you to just rest like you deserved to.

At the hospital, you were too tired to notice how Lester or Bo were reacting with the babies, and a lot of their attention was on you to make sure you were alright. Bo praised you a lot for having done such a good work. And Lester sneaked little chocolates and snacks into your room for you.

It was when you finally reached back home, you realised how your husbands were reacting to their baby boys.

None of the men couldn’t stand hearing the babies crying. They instantly needed to reach for them and to cuddle them and appease them. They needed to protect the babies from any kind of traumas. They were instinctively caring fathers because they would rather die than reproduce what their childhood had been. No favourite, no scream, no abuse.

Vincent and Bo also refused to separate the baby boys; they wanted the twins to sleep in the same bed. They also tried their best to show the same amount of love to the two of them. They wouldn’t stand the idea that one of their kids would feel like they had a favourite. Lester seemed quite relieved about it. Your husbands often talked together late at night, when you were already resting, to decide what was the best to do for the boys.

You also often found Bo sleeping in an armchair as he had tried to watch over his boys. That way he was ready to take care of them the instant one of them would wake up.

Vincent was also the one taking care of them the most at night because he was a night bird anyways.

Lester was the one who knew how to make them laugh and to amuse them the most. He was good at appeasing them when they were crying too. He let his big brothers be overprotective, so he could be the fun dad. He was also finding them clothes and toys. He was already spoiling them rotten and you were powerless to prevent any of this.

Lester also loved to watch you feed the babies and he was often with you when that happened. And when he wasn’t there, it was Bo because the man wanted to make sure his babies and wife were doing alright. No need to say that Bo and Vincent were the most concerned whenever the boys weren’t eating as much as a few hours ago. You couldn’t stop rolling your eyes at them.

“They’re all right” you always said

“But we need them to be strong boys, and for that they need to eat well!” Bo exclaimed as Vincent nodded in agreement with his own twin.

“They’ll be strong. Have you seen their fathers and mother?” you smiled

The advantage of living with three men was they could take care of the kids and of the house and let you rest. Bo loved to take care of you and to wash you too.

Vincent enjoyed spying on you when you were with the boys. He loved when you were talking to them with so much love in your words and voice. He was so relieved to know that his baby boys were going to grow up in a loving family, even though they were surrounded by killers.

Bo was calling you “mamma” pretty much all the time now.

Lester once asked you how it was to be the matriarch of the family and Vincent was a lot more obedient to you than he used to be. If Bo was calling for him, he wouldn’t move, but if it was you, he was there in a flash.

You became the head of the family and your husbands made it clear that they couldn’t wait for you to get pregnant again because “the twins needed siblings to be protective of”

Thanks to you, the brothers knew that even killers deserve a happy family life.

#house of wax x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x s/o #bo sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x s/o #vincent sinclair x you #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x s/o #lester sinclair x you #sinclair brothers x reader #sinclair brothers x s/o #sinclair brothers x you #slasher x reader #slasher x s/o #slasher x you

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stitched-mouth · 2 months

Text

Master’s Whore

Pairing: Vincent Phantomhive x Fem! Maid! Reader.

Warning: NSFW, Smut, Master x Servant (possible power dynamic), Cheating, Pet Names, Creampie, Unprotected sex (please wrap it and stay safe everyone!), Intercourse (P in V), Breeding kink?

Summary: Vincent fucks his maid just a room over from his entire family.

Word Count: 806.

Format: Kinktober Fic, Day 1.

A/N:

Welcome to Kinktober! My first fic, posted on time. Let’s see if I can keep it up for the rest of the month. Hope you like the first edition to Stitched’s first Kinktober!

I did try to keep this gender neutral in the beginning, but it’s a little hard to with smut so you can see when I stopped trying to be GN and just made the reader female. I suppose you can say the reader’s gender is still ambiguous despite their female body (and though Vincent calls them ‘Princess’).

I tried to make a McDonald’s joke at the end but I don’t think it landed at all (I can’t fucking believe I made a McDonald’s joke in a smut fic)

If you think this fic is good, just wait for Day 2…

—-///—

Your eyes slowly rolled back as the master fucked himself into you.

“Shh, baby, I know you can be quiet…” He whispered into your ear.

You whimpered against your master’s hand. It was becoming harder and harder not to scream in ecstasy from his thin fingers and thick cock. Two fingers were pressed against your clit, rubbing in slow sensational motions whilst his dick eased in and out of you at nearly the same pace.

You were trying so hard not make a noise. The consequences of being caught in such a scandalous position with Earl Vincent Phantomhive could be devastating. Not only was Vincent’s happy family was at risk, but most importantly your reputation and job was at risk.

Imagine what people would think of you, the Phantomhive mistress whore.

But the thought of the dangerous consequences thrilled the both of you. Made you both all hot and bothered.

“Oh Master!” You moaned out.

Vincent squeezed your jaw tightly, a warning to quiet down.

“Oh princess, you know my family are just outside that door. Are you trying to get us caught?” Vincent tutted.

You whined and lowered your head slightly. You stood facing the door with the Earl right you behind you and inside you, watching and almost daring someone to walk in and catch you in the act.

Vincent suddenly picked up the pace, moving faster in and out of your desperate hole. You placed your hands over Vincent’s, the one still squeezing your face, as an attempt to hide your moans and cries better. Vincent groaned behind you, feeling himself grow closer to his climax.

“Oh God, I’m going to fill you up so good my little maid.” He huffed into your ear.

“Please Sir!” You cried, the sound muffled behind both your hands and Vincent’s over your mouth. You were just as close.

It wasn’t long before you and your lover made it to your long needed orgasms. As promised, Vincent spilled his seed far into your awaiting hole. Whilst your cum spilled onto the carpet under you. You’d have fun trying to get that stain out later, seeing as you couldn’t possibly leave it for your co workers to deal with.

You sighed and went to stand up straight, but Vincent stopped you with a kind hand on your back.

“Wait Darling, we can’t let all this cum go to waste.” Vincent chuckled.

He pulled up your panties nice and tight and lovingly tapped your pussy through your panties before letting you stand up and turn to face him.

Vincent tutted again and sighed as you looked down at your cum on the carpet, he was stingy with cum, always insisting both your fluids be properly taken by the other. Vincent liked getting his and yours cum worth. Oh well, he’d just have to make up for it later. He pulled himself back into his trousers and smiled at you while stretching a bit.

He walked over to the door but before opening it, he turned back to you and grinned, “I’ll want you again before the day is over, so I’ll need you stay later than usual. You don’t have a problem with that, do you Princess?”

You stood in front of your master, skirt still pulled up, cum sticking to your thighs and filling your cunt also covering the carpet under you whilst your legs shook. His words had your pussy clenching around nothing, again.

So obviously you smiled and slowly shook you head, “Not at all. Master…”

#stitched #stitched talks #stitched’s kinktober 2023 #stitched writes #black butler #black butler x reader #black butler masterlist #vincent phantomhive #vincent phantomhive x reader #vincent phantomhive smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023

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visualbutterflysworld · 6 months

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Bf!Vinnie

Headshots fr fr.

y’all can request but just know it may take a long time

How you met

I think Vinnie definitely wouldn’t date anyone in the industry, or well marry anyone in the industry.

Anywho :P

I think you guys would met at the airport or maybe you’re a journalist? It would be super awkward but it would be a cute type of awkward situation yk.

After a few dates and blah blah blah

here’s the main canons !

Vinnie is super clingy.

Like this man loves to be on top of you. He does travel a lot so you don’t mind.

His love language is definitely physical touch.

I think he may also have a giving/receiving gifts love language. “Vinnie, I told you to stop buying me stuff.” “You said you needed a new watch?” “I wasn’t asking for you to buy me one!” “Oh well…this is a happy Friday gift?” “Vinnie!”

Vinnie would keep the relationship private but not a secret! Like when he posts about you or talks about you the comments are just filled with love and adoration.

“Show us Y/n!” “We came for Y/n? Not for you Vin.” “Tell Y/n I said hi!”

Vinnie loves playing pranks on you! He even calls himself the king of pranks.

*you minding your own business walking in the hallway* “Rah!” “Jesus fuck Vincent!” You definitely would prank him back. If he really makes you mad then you prank him by implying y’all do it and the you be like peace 🤗

Vinnie’s favorite part of you physically is your boobs! I know a lot of people think he’s an ass man but, naw I know he got a titty fixation.

“Let me play with your boobs.” “Vin, I’m reading.” “And?”

Vinnie likes smoking with you. Weed only tho! You actually make him stop smoking those nasty ass cigarettes.

*you coughing around him while he smokes a cigarette* “you okay babe?” “No, I’m asthmatic and you’re smoking that nasty ass cigarettes.” “Oh shit! Why didn’t you tell me!? I’m quitting right now” he probably would have to chew on those gum things for a while to get off the nicotine.

During intercourse, Vinnie makes sure you yk first. He also loves eating you out like there’s no tomorrow. Like you would have to constantly fight this man off. Like that one reel!

“Get off my car, Vinnie. Let me go to work!” You trying to pull out. Him coming to your window. “I could just have a smidge of coochie.” You would be laughing of course “Get away-” “Just a little bit. A parcel!” “No!” “Ma’am, could you spare something?” “No!” “Please!” “No!” “It’s been 15 hours!”

I think Vinnie would definitely want to marry you. Like you’ll change his view on marriage.

“Mama, I think I’m gonna ask Y/n to marry me.” “What! You’ve been together for only a year!” “I know but not like now! I think just sometime a few years down.” “Oh! Well go ahead!”

That’s all I got! Happy Halloween!

#vincent hacker #vinnie hacker #bwwm couples #bwwmromance #vhackerr #oneshot

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danddymaro · 6 months

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Flattered | Vincent Sinclair x Reader

I watched it again lol.

perhaps fluff, ( YK, as far as slashers can get with fluff)

Word count: 1483

Flattered

Your finger lightly petted the falling wax that gently ran down the long, white candle, toying with it betwixt your thumb and pointer before it cooled into a thin coat over them.

You released a little hum before using a nail to peel off the remains with ease, soon feeling just a bit happy with how soft your skin felt afterward.

Though, the delight was short-lived.

- It usually was.

Boredom had you sitting here with a halfhearted gaze, wondering if you'd ever get out.

The man that held you captive did nothing much but put himself to work, occasionally looking back at you to confirm that you were still there.

As if you could go anywhere else but under his nose.

It made no sense as you didn't know where else you could go but sit, making you wonder why he did so, so often.

"I'm not going anywhere," you reminded him in a soft voice as you then lay back on the bed there.

It was the only thing that had been saved from the touch of the melted substance he worked with, and you were grateful. You were surrounded by it.

"Can't," you mumbled before closing your eyes tiredly.

Like hell you'd try anyways when his brother was lurking anywhere the masked one wasn't.

'I'm better off here,' you inwardly mused.

If you were completely honest, you preferred being stuck with this man instead.

At least he just kept you there at a distance, something the other one had trouble doing when you first got into town.

You didn't even want to think about what he would have done to you if Vincent hadn't intervened, pulling you to him with a sort of claim that had you conflicted.

Because you didn't know if being with him was going to be better or worse, luckily, things had gone pleasantly thus far.

-You weren’t dead and that counted as a victory.

He didn't try and touch you, excluding the few moments his soft hands grazed your cheek, feeling the texture of your flesh to what you concluded was inspiration to his more innocent work.

Gently his fingers trailed the line of your lower lip, and as you tried to follow the movement of the exploring digits, your eyes practically glowed at the act.

He wasn’t stupid enough to think of it as anything other than utter interest, but even then he adored the look you possessed.

You quickly lost your initial cowering when you realized he wouldn’t draw lower than our jawline, or roam anywhere else other than your face.

So, you let him do as he pleased, occasionally voicing out little teases that got you little, flustered responses.

‘Having fun?’ you questioned him while trying not to laugh to much at the way his movements would be interrupted by a sudden, minuscule jerk that would be akin to a stutter in someone’s voice.

You noticed the way his fingers would tremble, and for whatever reason it was ….cute.

For just a moment you opened your eyes again, a half-lidded look pointed to where he continued to run the warm metal utensil over little mistakes he’d made.

You blinked your eyes open wide before you suddenly turned your whole head, your face pointed to his direction, your entire body soon following the movement until you lay at your side, observing.

‘Is that what he’s been up to?’ you asked yourself, realizing how it made sense the amount of times he stared at you, studying.

"Is that me?" you asked with a touch of a smile, asking from where you now sat, your legs hanging off from the side of the bed.

At the finishing details, you finally found yourself eased enough to ask just as he took a step back to give it a final once over.

Granted for the past few days, you hadn't talked , but the simple boredom of all those hours had you begging for some interaction.

At your question Vincent turned back to you and nodded slowly before looking down, shifting awkwardly.

You watched as his hands toyed with the tool he held, and as you observed, you detected what was perhaps bashfulness.

His lack of words made his body language much more exaggerated, that was for sure.

But, of course, you didn't mind much.

"Can...um...can I get a better look?" you asked with a crooked smile, waiting for his response.

His head shot up and he looked at you for a long minute before he nodded.

You weren't sure why, but you felt a bit amused before you walked over to him and the wax figure, eyeing it as it was just at your height.

Your hand went out to touch it before it retreated, and you looked up to the massive man, uncertain,

"Can I?" you asked, afraid to ruin his work.

Though, he nodded fiercely, the hand closest to him hesitating before it reached for yours, guiding it towards your replica's face.

That's where you started, petting an eyebrow before skimming down it's chin.

You then brought the hand to your own face, feeling the difference with awe.

"It's amazing," you said while looking op to him, the single eye that stared you down holding appreciation.

Though, you could hardly see it as it was hidden by the shadow of his mask and jet black strands that had framed his face.

"You're really talented," you told him, flattered by the work, moreover appreciating that he had only used you as a muse and not the base for his sculpture.

"I'm nowhere near your skill, but maybe I can sculpt you sometime, " you joked while looking the work over more.

He even caught the fabrics of your clothes right, making you softly sigh.

It had only been a silly remark, because you doubted you could pull it off anyways, but he seemed elated.

his hands both took your wrists captive as he turned you towards him, the act nearly tearing a scream out of you in frightened surprise. Other than the first time he’d practically tore you out of his brother’s brute grasp on you, it was the first time he’d used any real force.

He lightly shook you as he bent down a bit, looking down with a tilted head, not speaking, but communicating with a nearly muted hum you found somewhat endearing.

Quickly, your terror subsided as you took in his response.

"Ah, You like that idea?" you said with a short chuckle, and he nodded quickly, excited.

"I'll take that as a yes," you said as you eased your wrists out of his grip, only doing so thanks to the dying pressure of his hands.

He'd never had anyone try and capture his likeness.

Not even he bothered to do so.

But you had offered, and it was something he didn't know he yearned for until he watched you try and mimic the steps he'd taken to create yours.

You explained to him how you’d work on a much smaller scale, the figure no larger than six inches, giving you a small enough goal that didn’t require all of his precise touches.

He helped you start of, slowly guiding you with silent advise and little nudges you smiled at.

You were somewhat sloppy, and when you weren't, you were far too considerate, your pace careful, almost afraid of messing up.

Soon after, he let you try your hand while he sat back and watched for hours, giving you the workspace needed to become familiar while he stayed out of the way.

However, it didn't mean he sat back and did nothing, because he found the sight of you moving around his usual workspace to be charming as you copied many of his movements , even the unnecessary ones.

It was cute watching you move around in his apron with no real direction.

He’d help you out, but given how determined you were to do it on your own, he refrained from it after you pleaded with him on the first attempt.

Flattered was in no way near what he felt, because it was far greater.

In his sketchbook he recorded the various faces of your process, the purse of your lips, the lines of frustration and consideration that decorated it too.

-And especially your moments of little victories as you saw your efforts pay off.

Even the light smudges of dried wax you had dotted on your cheeks as you wiped them occasionally had been captured.

He recorded it all on paper, and hoped that after he finished the moments, you thought of them as fascinating too.

Gently his fingers ran down the slick wax that protected his face, realizing how warm he felt beneath the mask, his cheeks flushed with color that spread over his ears too.

for a moment you looked back at him, his living muse smiling preciously.

#vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent x you #vincent sinclair x y/n #house of wax x you #house of wax x reader #House of Wax #house of wax x y/n #house of wax fanfiction #house of was fanfic #Slashers #slashers x reader #slasher fics

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slashers-and-rats · 8 months

Note

slashers reacting to being their bpd gn s/o's fave person?

rat chat: i really like this prompt, because i have a lot of stuff goin’ on up in my noodle, and i also experience the fave person phenomena to a high extent. so i relate to you, and i like that.

Slashers reacting to being the gn!reader’s favourite person | sfw |

featured slashers: billy lenz, thomas hewitt, vincent sinclair

billy lenz :

billy wasn’t a stranger to obsessive tendencies. this man, at some point in his time of knowing you, watched you through holes in the ceiling and actively snuck out at night to stare at you sleeping. he knew what it was like to have someone you cherished more than anything in the world. it was a bit different, obviously, but he still related to what you were feeling.

there was a day when you had to sit down and explain it to him. it took him a bit to really chew on the words you were feeding him. he was your favourite? you wanted to always be around him? the things he did had that much impact on you? deep down, in the sicker parts of his psyche, he was elated. he wanted you to be reliant and obsessed with him, he wanted you to feel just like how he did. but, at the same time, your tone didn’t seem so chipper. he could tell it was something to tread carefully on, especially knowing that the things he did could effect you so deeply.

he was always at your disposal, so withdrawals weren’t much of a problem. the anxiety of him being away was always satiated within seconds, as he liked to stay close to you too. billy was always just a call away if you needed to be grounded and reassured he was there.

you would ask for praise from time to time, wanting to hear him say you were good and that he actually cared about you. this was a foreign concept to billy. how did you not know? he knew he didn’t say many coherent things, but even his disjointed ramblings were often worships to you. he always did what you asked tho. he’d praise you, and pepper your face in sloppy, wet kisses, and purr about how he’ll never leave you. in between his garbled noises, he’d mumble out compliments, and make sure you felt as happy as he did.

he was truly delighted to be so attached to you. the concept of bpd and having a “favourite person” might’ve been new and different, but at the end of the day, it only made him feel more comfortable with his own feelings. sometimes he felt like he was pathetic for being so clingy to you, and knowing that you, in some way or another, felt the same made him comforted.

there were some downsides. sometimes billy didn’t like being out and around people, and would coop himself up in the attic. he saw on those days how blue you’d get yourself, even without him doing anything. during those times, he’d draw you small pictures and write cat scratch notes, and slip them underneath doors as he glided through the house in complete silence. it was just reminders that he did love you, even when he needed his own space.

he just really cares about you. and is happy to know that he is so cared for as well.

thomas hewitt :

thomas has no real knowledge of mental illnesses. that’s not to say he hasn’t experienced it, he has his own issues, and his whole family is riddled with different disorders, but it’s never really been openly talked about.

that being said, when you went to him and explained it all, he picked up on the concept fairly quickly. sure, he didn’t understand all the bits and pieces being told to him, but he was really trying. he understood that you always wanted to be near him, and he could relate to that. it was something he had to get over himself, as he’d never really had a relationship like this before, and it made him over eager. he knew that his own mood could affect yours, whether he meant for it to or not. that was something he found easily maneuverable. he wasn’t the most enthusiastic guy, and you hadn’t minded before. he knew you needed lots of reassurance and praise, that you got anxious about him leaving easily. he was amazed you thought he’d be the one leaving you.

he fell into a routine quite quickly. he’d spend a little while longer in the morning cuddling you and squeezing you, his own way of saying he wanted to be with you. he kissed you lots whenever you two were alone, and always kept himself touching you somewhere. he liked making sure you knew he was there. he liked being present when he could.

tommy did have to leave during the days to go help his family with their exploits, and he always fretted over you before he left. he always lingered in his room, kissing over your face and reassuring you that he’d be back, that he’d miss you, that he couldn’t wait to be back. the second he’d get home, he’d pass right by his family (stopping at luda mae only because that was his mama) and go straight up to his room to see you again.

tommy liked bringing you trinkets and things. he liked giving you things that would remind you he’d be there. he didn’t want you to think he’d go anywhere. you were so special to him, and the idea of you being so reliant on him emotionally was new. but he liked it, somewhere inside of him. he liked knowing you were so vulnerable and open with him, and that you really were attached to him, and that he could provide you support he didn’t previously know you needed.

there were setbacks. tommy didn’t talk much, and so it was very hard for him to provide verbal reassurance. he remedied this by showing you lots of physical affection when you were both alone and away from the family. sometimes, when he was feeling particularly brave, he would utter a small “i love you”, and that always seemed to be enough to prove how much he cared about you. he didn’t talk to anyone, but you were different.

he just wanted to make you happy.

vincent sinclair :

vincent had a soft centre. on the outside, he was this large, brooding, empty eyed man, but on the inside he was filled with lavender and vanilla. he was always very understanding of your own habits and coping mechanisms, whether they made sense to him or not. as long as you sat him down and explained it to him, he made sure to be good and provide support where he could.

the idea of a favourite person resonated deep with vincent. wasn’t that how he felt about you…? whenever you were away from him, even in the other room he felt sick. he’d push his cheeks into your palms, and make you kiss him and promise him you’d never leave. it was something you both seemed to be working on. there was a mutual obsession, or a reliance on each other emotionally that you both had to navigate.

him relating made it easier for both of you, as it brought forth a conversation of what to do. the solution was simple. just do what you’ve been doing. you two spent as much time together as possible, vincent not liking when you strayed too far, scared his brother might devour you.

he didn’t talk much, but he when you were both alone and curled up, he’d speak in soft, raspy tones, whispering about how much he loved and cared about you. every time you left his workshop to go and prepare food or clean up a waxy mess spilled onto your front, you’d come back and be met with vincent fretting over you and making sure you were ok.

he didn’t show his emotions much, so it wasn’t hard for him to keep his worser feelings inside for your own good. he knew that sometimes when he let it slip that he was upset, he’d see you change, and slip into the same dreary feelings. he’d be quick to reassure you he was ok, and you’d do the same. alone, you two were almost sickeningly sweet with each other. out in the real world, outside of his studio, you two tried to stay neutral and appropriate. bo already teased vincent enough, you didn’t want to add more.

it was actually vincent that tended to have issues. he didn’t like the feeling of anxiety he got when he saw you sad. sometimes you’d be missing home, or upset that your art wasn’t going well, and he’d feel it shoot through his heart. he wanted to just take it all away and make it feel better. you always had to reassure him in those moments that there was nothing he could do, that sometimes you were just going to feel blue, and you’d let him rest his head in your lap while he calmed himself.

when you did have problems, it always came from his intense focus on his work. sometimes, without realizing it, he would ignore you for hours, and by the time he was pulled from his creative marathon, he’d see you dejected and alone in the corner. he’d always make sure to make it up to you, and have you sit on his lap while he praised you for being so good and patient. or, he’d simply have you come sit beside him while he worked, and he’d listen closely to you talk. he never really got tired of you filling the silence. either way, he’d always do something to make sure you knew you were his top priority. because you were.

over all, you two are a fairly good match.

#slasher x reader #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #slashers #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #vincent sinclair x you #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #ask

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codename-mom · 16 days

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Is Hotch autistic?

Well, if you take into account the official material, the answer is: no. Or, at least, he’s never shown like that, and it’s never mentioned that he could be.

Now, if the question is: do I think Hotch is autistic? The answer is: yes.

Why do I think that?

First of all, I want to precise that my knowledges in that domain are limited, so there will be inconsistencies and imprecisions in the text below. I’m sorry if I hurt some of you doing so, it wasn’t the purpose of it (feel free to correct me, with manners please). And, on the other hand, it’s a very personal point of view. As so, this post is in no way canon.

TW: mention of child/domestic abuse, anxiety, CM violence

The first two aspects of his personality which might fit with the autistic Hotch hypothesis, and which are pretty obvious are:

His lack of expressiveness

Hotch is able to smile, we saw it in a few episodes, to laugh, to cry and even to be very angry (do I need to specify which episode I’m referring to?); so he feels emotions like anyone else, but his ability to express them is far below how JJ, Derek, Dave or Emily does. Most of the time, the character appears stoic, eyebrows furrowed, straight mouth, no matter what’s going on around or other protagonist reaction.

Yet, we know that he has empathy (he’s moved when Foyet killed seven innocents people in the bus, he’s about to fall in tears with that burnt woman (S02E19) and he cried when he accompany that man who has to watch his son’s death (S07E10)), we know that he’s careful about his men (he reassured Penelope after he was harsh with her, he took Spencer in his arms after they freed him from Tobias Hankel, he worried (a lot) about Emily when she was with Cyrus, etc.) and we know that he’s sensitive to what people say or don’t say to him (he returned Derek’s words about his defaults (S03E02) and he’s hurt when he realizes that JJ hide her pregnancy to him) BUT he doesn’t show it.

We can argue that he was trained for that purpose, but it’s supposed to apply when he is with witnesses, victims, or suspects; not when he’s with his men or his relatives. And he’s not especially expressive with Jack, for example.

(Look how happy he is! /o/)

He is, however, more with Haley and Beth, but not that much.

What are the reasons for this difficulty in expressing emotions?

If, like we can suspect it by listening to his dialogue with Vincent (S01E08), his father was violent (to him, to his mother or both), he could have learnt to hide his emotions to survive. Now a grown-up, he doesn’t know how to express them the right way.

Or he is shy/introvert. I already talked about that in a previous post, but Aaron is a shy guy, who pull himself away, who avoid spotlights and who don’t want to disturb people around with his problems. Laughing out loud, ranting loudly or shouting out of rage, it’s not his temper (for the last point, we can flatten it because we know that he’s able to yell to be the bad cop (S04E13), because something touched him personally (the husband who beat his wife in Alaska) or because we’re stepping on his toes (he’s mad at Jordan because she defied his authority in front of everyone and she lied to witnesses to obtain information, two things he doesn’t like at all)).

Or he doesn’t simply know how to express them. He’s not able to identify them clearly, so he adopts a neutral expression, which cracks when he’s feeling the strongest emotions (joy, sadness, or anger). And that is closed to autistic’s features.

He stares at people

It’s impossible to not note that point. Spencer himself said at the beginning of season 5 that he had never seen Hotch blink since his arrival at the BAU.

Neurotypical people don’t do that. During a conversation, gaze moves all the time: it could stay put for a moment, but it’ll move when the person will try to remember something, think to what they’re going to say, watch at something around or be attracted by a movement somewhere near. It’s not what Hotch do: he stares continuously at the person who he’s talking to or who’s talking to him. He looks away when he estimates that the conversation is over. And no matter the status of the one in front of him.

And autists are known for having trouble with how they’re supposed to place their gaze during a conversation: they can stare at everything else but the people in front of them (that’s what Spencer do), or they do like Hotch. In an episode of L&O: CI, Goren and Eames faced an autistic suspect who has learnt to not stare at people after a certain amount of time. Well, it’s not a reliable source (far from it), but we find again the fact that autists can stare intensely at people.

And, as a shy person, I can assure you that we don’t do such thing (on a contrary, we’d rather look away to not be perceived as intrusive or aggressive).

Now, let’s talk about his less obvious features that can attest his neuro-divergency.

Proprioception issues

What proprioception is first? To make the thing simple, it’s all the nervous messages continuously sent by every part of our body to our brain and which it uses then to manage our moves and actions. To give you an example: thanks to our proprioception we are able to know that we’re falling and then our brain can order us to rise our arms or to move our foot so we won’t be hurt much, or we will stay standing up. It’s also thanks to our proprioception that we know that we’re hungry, thirsty, cold, hot, sleepy, or hurt.

Autistic people have trouble with their proprioception because they don’t recognize their internal sensations: they can be hurt and don’t notice or suffer from sunstroke without being conscious of it.

And we can see many times Hotch being hurt and still continues to act like everything is fine. In New York, despite is ripped eardrum and his many wounds, he runs everywhere like a young puppy (adrenaline can do the trick however). When he stops that unsub provoking a car crash, he’s stunned but still ready to chase him (S04E23). When his ear bleeds again, still in New York, he doesn’t pay attention (but, again, adrenaline can have anesthetic effects).

We can counterargue underlying that he may pretends to not worry his men (because he’s shy, remember), but in Route 66 episode, he suffers from internal bleeding without him to notice anything. He realizes that he’s not okay a few seconds before he passes out (so hours after the beginning of the problem). And that, it can’t be allocate to his will to not disturb people around (the “excuse me” can be, cf. my previous post).

We can also add that, very often, we see all the other characters drinking coffee and eating, when he doesn’t. He does when everyone is around a table at the end of a mission (Las Vegas, in that Mexican restaurant, etc.), but it could be led by a group effect: he’s not specifically hungry, he just follows his subordinates.

And we can’t count the number of time where he’s awake late at night. In fact, the simple fact that he’s at Quantico very early in the morning and very late at night induces that he doesn’t sleep much. JJ and Emily both have remarks about it: first one saying that he stays as much as she does (S03E09) and the second one asking when he slept.

All that can be signs of his autism.

Hyper-fixation

Hyper-fixation is not only to be interested by a subject to the point to collect everything about it and to do deep research about it. Any music band, movie or TV shows fan could fit in that box. No, hyper-fixation designates the fact that the person who suffers from it deep dives so much into their task that they forget to answer their most basic needs of their body, like eating, drinking, going to restrooms, cleaning themselves, or sleeping. It’s not harmless, far from it.

And Hotch is a master to stay late at night without sleeping (I won’t do the list of every episode where he’s the only one left on the sixth floor or where he’s working in his bedroom when all the other sleep). And to think that he also forgets to eat and to drink, there’s only one step to do.

We can put that on the fact that he’s not especially motivated to go back to his place after his divorce, but he was already doing it when he was married (to Haley’s dismay) and he’s still doing it when his son is waiting for him (and it’s very kind of his ex-sister-in-law to take care of him in his place).

And for his hotel insomnia, we can suggest that his (extreme) professional conscience pushes him to continue to work far after the usual schedule. But the others are not less conscientious, and they sleep.

So, it’s possible that in addition to the fact that he doesn’t feel his body calls, he can also lose notion of time and space regularly. And that fits with the autistic Hotch hypothesis.

Change issues

Autists can have difficulties to apprehend and handle changes in their daily routine. We can see it with Spencer who is very disturbed by Gideon and Blake’s departure, who are two people with who he had a strong connection.

And we can see it also with Hotch who shows difficulties to adapt to changes. First, he’s always wearing the same outfit, even when it’s not necessary (we see it with the others: suit and tie are not mandatory), which means that he’s following a daily routine.

Then, when JJ has to leave the first time, he expresses his discomfort multiple times: he doesn’t appreciate the news of her pregnancy first (S03E20), he underlines that they’re going to be lost without her (S04E06?) and, most of all, he struggles a lot to accept Jordan Todd’s presence in his team. Some will say that it’s because he’s sexist and racist, but it’s forgotten that JJ is a woman, that Derek is a POC and that, later, he’ll hire Tara willingly.

We don’t have many elements on the way he adapts to Jack’s presence in his daily life after Haley’s death (we only know that Jessica takes care of him most of the time, but he taught him to read and he and JJ clearly help themselves to drive their children to school), so it’s difficult to dig more in this feature. Moreover, that this aspect is reduced, then muted in the following seasons.

No social life

Unlike all the other members of his team who interact with people who are not federal agents (JJ and Spencer with their mother, Derek with his mother, his sisters and his aunt, Emily and her childhood friends, Penelope and her brothers, and Dave with his ex-wives, his daughter, his grandson and a certain amount of acquaintances), Hotch has no interaction with someone else but his team and other federal agents (curiously, mostly women). Outside of them, he interacts only with Jack and Jessica. Even Spencer is seen with former classmates (S02E18, S07E11).

There are several explanations for this.

It may be a hole in the script because the writers didn’t want to dig into this aspect of the character (we already see him a lot on the screen, the others need some space too). So, he has friends, but we don’t know them.

Or he doesn’t have any. Because he never succeeded to make some or because he wasn’t able to keep contact with them through time. In any case, it can be relevant of the fact that, like many autists, social interactions are landmine field for him. He can’t analyze emotions of people around him, as he can’t analyze his, so he avoids interacting with strangers or, when he does, he doesn’t act the right way and people run away from him.

Knowing that he is a profiler, it makes this suggestion absurd, unless if you think that he’s only able to identify specific behavior from sociopaths and everything else is just nonsense for him. We see multiple times that his reactions or replies provoke astonishment for the people who are not part of his team.

But it can also fit with the shyness theory. When you are shy and/or introvert, talking to stranger is hard as hell. As so, shy people don’t have many friends and/or acquaintances.

[Well, yes, I forgot: he has his brother - and they don't appreciate each other - and his former father-in-law - who hates him deeply.]

Tactless

I don’t think any of you will contradict me on that point, but Hotch can be very direct. And he doesn’t hesitate, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences of his words on his target’s hubris or self-esteem.

And, for someone who studies to become a lawyer/prosecutor, it’s quite peculiar: he’s supposed to be eloquent, to know how to handle the verb, and to be able to reel people; instead, he humiliates a lawyer in front of the Court underlying his too short pants, his low-cost clothes, and his habits of (bad) gambler. He could have used statistics to make his point but preferred this brutal method.

And he acts like that many times during the show: he says to Strauss that she’s a bad mother, he scolds Prentiss at the beginning of their cohabitation, he is harsh multiple times with Derek, Penelope, Jordan, and with police officers and others… well, many examples. The guy is upfront, and he doesn’t care about good manners. He says what he thinks.

By the way, we can remark that politics and him don’t match. Every time he has to play a political game, he refuses, or he fails in the end (S02E11, S02E16, S04E16). To lie, to be a hypocrite, bowing, it’s not his thing. Which means that he’s more the frank type.

If we add to this that it’s more than obvious that he was doing well with Kate Joyner who was also the frank type, we can suppose that he appreciates honest and direct people, like him. Why? Maybe because he doesn’t get innuendo, unspoken, pretense… that are, I think, difficult to catch for autists.

However, we can’t totally discard the fact that he is also the provocative type. We know that he has a juvenile record and that he can be very sarcastic, which means that behind his good manners and his controlled speech, he has a rebellious temper and a real issue with authority. The fact that he wasn’t much expressive can’t help us determine when he voluntarily speaks frankly to have a reaction or when he hurts people by mistake.

Rigidity

Hotch is stiff. And I don’t say that because is as straight as a chopstick. No, he’s mentally stiff. Derek says that he is a drill-sergeant and JJ, a bully, which means that their boss is quite uncompromising. About what? We don’t really know, but as he read/write all the reports of his team members, that he asks Emily for a missing piece in her report and that he tramples on Derek when he did the correction of his draft (when Derek noticed that they don’t have enough for a profile), we can suggest that he’s uber fussy about that.

Seeing how he’s mad at Jordan when he catches her lying to the family of a victim, we understand that he hates that. As much as he hates when his men play solo (Spencer, Seaver, Derek) putting themselves in danger and/or putting all the team in danger – notice that HE can. He also hates when people give nicknames to serial killers.

Maybe this is going to be a headcanon, but I think that Hotch is typically the kind of person who is incapable of breaking rules; rules made by society/the institution he works for (ex: driving above the speed limits/having an intimate relationship with one of his subordinates) or rules made by himself (ex: not lying to witnesses during an investigation). To break these rules asks him a real effort and he’s immediately uncomfortable with it. And when he sees people around breaking them, he’s as much uncomfortable (he’s tolerating Kevin around Penelope in the limits he has made).

This struggle can come from his autism.

Anxiety

First of all, it’s important to say that if autists suffer of anxiety (because of everything above), it doesn’t mean that every anxious people are autistic nor that every autist is anxious. But it’s part of the many symptoms of autism.

This said, let’s go back to Hotch who is with no doubt an anxious guy. We see him regularly expressing nervous tics when he’s in an uneasy situation for him: he presses his fingers into his fists, he digs his nails into his skin, he bites his lips, etc.

The fact that he’s always wearing the same outfit and that he sticks to a daily routine is typical of anxious people, because it’s a way for them to soothe their anguish. The shyness is also a factor of anxiety and, we see it, that outside of a professional context, Aaron is not the coolest person ever: he’s clumsy with Jack, he’s clumsy with Beth, he’s clumsy with this woman Dave pushes into his arms, etc. Actually, he’s uneasy every time he’s not protected anymore by his suit and his FBI badge. He’s uneasy when he has to go out of his comfort zone and when he’s facing random events he can’t control.

Besides, Hotch says to Derek that he’s writing his subordinates’ reports for them. He adds that it’s to give his agents more free time – it’s probably the official reason he gives to himself – but, for real, it’s because, as an anxious guy, it reassures him.

Peculiar sense of humor

When Hotch tried to motivate his men to throw at him his worst defaults, he started saying he has no sense of humor.

But, for real, he has one. His humor is really dry: he says his humorous lines with the same monochord tone as usual and his face shows no sign that could help people around to guess that it’s supposed to be fun. So, you really need to know him well to catch that.

Hotch: "I'm wearing it [his cape]"

But he clearly has a sense of humor: we can see it with JJ, with Beth, with Spencer, with Dave, etc. Haley asked him, as her last words, to show their son how funny he can be, how he was able to make her laugh. He can also be very sarcastic, which is another form of humor.

He’s able to understand puns too because we can see him smile and laugh multiple times, but we can also notice that sometimes he takes the lines right to the letter (S04E07).

And autistic people don’t necessarily have the same sense of humor than neurotypical people: they can laugh on something that won’t be funny for neurotypicals or not laugh on something that will make other people laugh (ex: the remark about the flowers in the middle of a crime scene).

Huge knowledges

It’s a point I put very low on the list because as he always avoids the light, Hotch doesn’t expose his real knowledge (on the reverse, Spencer talks a lot about what he knows, not necessarily at the best time). But we can guess, paying very attention, that the guy is quite clever.

First of all, we hear him quoting books or recognizing quotes, exactly like Spencer. Which means that he memorized precisely what he has read. Which is not easy at all (try to quote me a book you love you’ve read ten years ago. Difficult, isn’t it?).

Then, we catch from one spare line here and there that he has many knowledges: he collected pennies when he was a kid, he knows the meaning of tarot card, he recognizes the scale model of a James Bond car, he knows theatre (even if he was a poor actor), etc.; it’s quite an heterogenous knowledge but he can spill it anytime it’s needed.

And we can’t forget that he was in law school to become a federal prosecutor, which induce that he studied for years and that he has to remember a ton of laws for all the country.

Ability to understand autistic people

Hotch is, at multiple times, the only one able to follow Spencer complicate reasonings. Now, Spencer is undoubtedly autistic (and if you think he’s not, I invite you to rewatch the show). What can make us think that he can understand him because he has the same way of thinking.

---

With all this, we can add his singular way of speaking (monochord tone, polished language), the fact that he doesn’t talk about his feelings to his relatives (there was clearly a communication issue between him and Haley), and his huge empathy for his subordinates (about whom he worries a lot all the time).

Actually, you have to keep in mind that a good part of this troubles can be explained by his rough childhood he seems to have had (“seems” because the only real thing we know is that his father was unfaithful, period), his anxiety, and his natural shyness too.

But, for me, he’s autistic and he doesn’t know it. It’s not the reason why I felt for him (this point of view hit me way after I started to write about him) and it doesn’t make him any sexy-er or something, it’s just a part of his character I add to the pile of the many aspects of his personality. It’ll be briefly treated in my main CM fanfic: “Code Name: Mom”, but deeply treated in my two Hotchniss fanfics. So, don’t be surprised if you read from time-to-time innuendos about his neuro-divergency, it’s on purpose.

And happy autism acceptance month everyone! 😊

(And remember, this is a personal point of view, you perfectly have the right to think differently. ;) )

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #hotch #agent hotchner #autism

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f1nalboys · 1 year

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Be My Valentine? - Bo Sinclair

Bo Sinclair x GN!Reader

WORD COUNT: 722

WARNINGS: none unless u want me to count sickly sweet love :3 maybe ooc bo bc he's being a nice silly sweet fella in this but its my writing and i decided he deserves to be happy so....sue me. not super proofread either <3

“Now what the hell is all this?” Bo’s voice pulls you from your haze of determination, looking up from the cookie you were currently icing. He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, mechanics suit half off, undershirt covered in sweat, watching you with both amusement and confusion. You glance around the room and give him a sheepish smile; you hadn’t realized how big of a mess you had made. The ingredients from the cookies, brownies, and icing were strewn over every available surface and, as you look down at the apron you were wearing (which was one you had bought Bo last time you had gone into town,) you realize you were as well.

Shrugging your shoulders you look back down at the last cookie, trying to finish it up. “Making Valentine's day desserts, what’s it look like?” He huffs and you bite back a smile as you hear him stomp towards you. He wasn’t mad; you’ve gotten good at knowing when Bo was upset with you and when he was cautiously curious. “Don’t look! I’m almost done with this, go have a brownie.”

“You made brownies?”

“Mhm, extra chocolate for Vincent and white chocolate drizzled for Les. Don’t touch those, eat the ones I have on the stove.” Bo lets out a soft ‘hmph!’ noise but follows your orders anyways, steering clear of the packaged brownies and cookies you had put to the side. “And be careful! They’re hot.”

“I kill people and you think imma be hurt by a brownie?” Bo questions, voice light, and you can hear the smile in it. It’s followed by an immediate hiss and the sound of the tap running. “Don’t fuckin’ say a word,” And his sheer conviction and knowledge that you do, in fact, want to say that you had told him has you giggling. It’s a snort and then another one, louder, and he’s sighing, and then you laugh again, harder and louder this time and then he’s joining in.

Two months ago Bo wouldn’t have been able to laugh at himself, would have taken your lightheartedness as a sign of you laughing at him, and would have thrown a fit. But now? Now he stands with you in the kitchen, his back to yours, laughing in the shared space. He can feel the love you have for him seep into his lungs with every intake of breath, can feel it under his fingertips when he turns around and squeezes your hips with his hand and pulls you into him in an attempt to calm himself from the laughing fit.

He can feel it when you look back towards him and kiss him softly, far softer than he ever thought he deserved.

He can see it when you pull away and look him in the eye with a small smile, when you don’t cringe away from his touch or his looks or his affection. Bo kisses you again and rests his head onto your shoulder. “So, what were ya’ doing that was soooo important?”

“This.” You pull your hand back and he snorts; it was a crude drawing of the two of you (stick figures holding hands, Bo’s having a blue hat, of course) done in icing with the words ‘be my val?’ written on it. You can feel his chest rumble with a small laugh. “Don’t laugh, I did my best! I was gonna write out ‘Be my Valentine?’ on individual cookies but I didn’t have enough so I took the biggest cookie off the tray and did this!”

“It’s beautiful, can’t believe I’m livin’ with a Monet.” Bro says with a smirk. “I mean, damn! Vinny’s gonna be out of a job!”

“Stooop!”

You push against him slightly, grinning, but he holds you tighter. Closer. “I love it.” His voice is soft in your ear and when you look over at him he’s staring down at the cookie, at the shakily-done drawing of you and he holding hands, and he’s letting himself smile. He’s letting himself be loved. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Bo. You didn’t answer my question, though.” He looks over at you with a raised eyebrow and you motion your head down at the cookie. “Be my Val?”

He breaks out into another smile and kisses you. “Of course I’ll be your Val, darlin’.”

#f1nalboys works #f1nalboys masterlist #f1nalboys writing #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x y/n #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #slasher #slashers #slasher x reader #valentines day fic #heheh #slasher x y/n

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zozo-01 · 6 months

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"is this the end of all the endings? (my broken bones are mending.)"

Happy Birthday to me!! It was my birthday earlier this month so I had to write myself a lil something something!! And you already knew I had to feature my favourite wolf and their vampire!!

[story takes place after before ‘cuddles and confessions’ but after ‘confronted by your alpha’, and sam and darlin’ aren’t together]

CW: Mentions of Abuse, Slowburn, Sam is an idiot, Darlin’ is an idiot, David is bad at planning surprises, Darlin’ has a fall birthday, Finessing the timeline a little, Author is outing herself by inserting her embarrassing and sad stories in this fic, Darlin’ is me, I am Darlin’, but they use they/them pronouns, There is one mention of Darlin’ being BIPOC but it’s a throwaway line for me and me alone

click here for the ao3 link!!!

Sam woke up that morning with his phone in his hands, a habit he only recently developed.

Under normal circumstances, he would have left his phone on his bedside table, letting it charge for the next day. But these aren’t normal circumstances and they weren’t a normal person. To him, at the very least.

He’s long accepted that against his will, the wolf he met on Solaire land means more to him than what he’s willing to admit. It’s gotten to the point where he’s caught himself twitching with a smile in front of the clan when they sent one of their goofy daily updates. Thankfully, it was brief enough that no one noticed. Except for the clan’s resident lover boy.

“Oooooh, Sam’s got a partner! Is it the Shaw wolf? I bet it’s them- they’re soooo your type and I can’t blame you, they’re very pretty, hehe.”

“Vincent, shut up ‘fore I knock you on your ass.”

“Jealous much, am I right Lovely.~”

“Stop teasing Sam- VINCENT LOOK OUT!”

Laying in bed, Sam thinks about what it is about this reckless wolf that has him acting like a love-struck teenager. Their striking appearance was what drew him in, and who could blame him. Darlin’ looked like the bad, city kid ripped from every romance novel. He adored their appearance but it was their heart, their righteous anger and that goddamn beautiful smile that kept him staying up at night talking to them, in the hopes that he’s making them happy on the other end.

(It would some time before Darlin’ confesses this fact, but there is a video on Marie's phone where they’re screaming in a pillow because that’s how enamoured they are with him.)

Speaking of messages, he opened his phone to see if there were any unread texts from them. His heart raced when he saw that there was one unread notification, thinking it was from Darlin’. His heart sank when it wasn’t their contact name highlighted, but it picked up again when it was a message from David Shaw. Sam opened it, nerves making him sick as to what their Alpha has said.

Mr. Shaw: Buy a chocolate cake for the troublemaker.

Mr. Shaw: It’s their birthday and they’re ignoring our messages.

Overcoming the initial shock caused by David messaging him, his mind went blank.

It’s their birthday. And he didn’t buy any presents for them. What terrible future partner he was.

Sam was still confused as to why David was messaging him of all people. Darlin’ had been integrating back into the pack, at a glacial pace for sure, but it was more progress than they expected. Given what sparse stories they tell him about the infamous Shaw Pack, Asher and Milo would have been the better option for throwing the party they deserve. David ended any further pondering Sam might have done with his next message.

Mr. Shaw: They know that we know it’s their birthday, so in a failed attempt to make today not a big deal, they will be ignoring any of our wishes.

Mr. Shaw: I’m willing to bet that they haven’t told you that their birthday was coming up, so the pack is relying on you to give them their first normal birthday, since… him. It doesn’t have to be anything flashy, they’d kill me if it was.

If that’s the case, then Sam will make this the best ‘not-a-big-deal-birthday’ birthday party to ever party.

Sam Collins: of course sir

Sam Collins: leave ‘em to me

Mr. Shaw: Thank you, Sam. For being there and caring for them in a way that the pack hasn’t.

Mr. Shaw: Also, you don’t have to keep calling me sir.

He chuckled at the last message, amused by the Alpha’s blunt care for his fellow wolf. He was glad that despite all the emotional baggage between the two introverted wolves, that he was always there for them, and they will always be there for him.

Ignore the fact that their birthday is during the fall. (“Autumn, Sam. It’s autumn.”) That’s just a mere coincidence that has nothing to do with anything. So what if his favourite person was born during his favourite season? So what if their rare smile is as warm as the fall sun, warm and bright and comforting in the most magical way possible. It doesn’t have to mean anything.

(It meant everything to Sam. For a man, who didn’t believe in soulmates and happily ever afters, it’s pretty damn hard to deny the idea that they were made for him. Every facet of their personality perfectly complimented his own. Their stubbornness with his care. Their shit eating grins with his amused yet exasperated grunts. The city kid who learned to fight in the trenches and the cowboy who could shoot before he could walk. A shifter who’s very nature is change and a vampire who is at an eternal standstill. The unstoppable force and the immovable object.)

(Stardust intertwines their bodies, magic binds their souls, their fates and destinies are tied together whether or not either of them accepts it. Sam waits patiently in the stark white room, waiting for the sun to shine on him like he was the moon. Gentle care is what awaits them both in the future, and between you and me, he much prefers their soft light over the harsh rays of heat from his childhood.)

Where was he again? Oh right, the not-a-big-deal-birthday’ birthday party. His mind seems to wander these days when it comes to them.

He switches the contacts in his phone, taking a minute to admire their contact picture. How someone could look so done with life, yet adorable, he will never understand. Another one of life’s greatest mysteries and he’s happy to solve it with them.

Sam Collins: can i come over today?

Before his heart could pound in anticipation for a response, Darlin’ had already figured out his plan.

pretty wolf 🐺: no

Sam Collins: can i at least explain?

pretty wolf 🐺: n o o o o

pretty wolf 🐺: i refuse to let david’s plans work

pretty wolf 🐺: you will absolutely not come over

Sam Collins: how on earth did you guess all o’ that? and why would ya assume david’s in on it?

pretty wolf 🐺: because that man is terrible at planning surprises ‘cuz he’s too predictable

pretty wolf 🐺: i’m surprised his mate let him get away with this

pretty wolf 🐺: so no

Sam Collins: but it’s your birthday?

pretty wolf 🐺: and??? so??? you’re absolutely welcome to come over if the leafs win the cup, but that aint happenin till i die

Sam Collins: i’ll bring cake and food

pretty wolf 🐺: …im payin you back

pretty wolf 🐺: dont fight me on that

Sam Collins: wouldn’t dream of it

Sam Collins: see you in a few

pretty wolf 🐺liked your message

–

cowboy has read your message

Ok, they think every nook and cranny of their small apartment is spotless. Considering the lack of furniture in their apartment, it wasn’t a hard task to complete.

They made a note on their phone to remind themselves to kill David at the next pack meeting. How many times did they have to tell him and the rest of those assholes that no, they didn’t need a birthday party. Just send a text and they were content. Darlin’ never liked being the centre of attention unless they did something notable enough to earn it. Celebrating them because their parents happened to bang nine months prior was definitely not on the ‘something notable’ list.

(They won’t mention that it was their fear of the future, the unknown, that prevented them from celebrating the mundane. Memories of shattered glass and tears and bullets were enough to remind them that the good times never last.)

(But maybe Sam will prove otherwise. Emphasis on the maybe.)

They go through their wallet, pulling out a couple hundred dollar bills, ready to shove them down Sam’s pockets so he’ll take it home. It would be easier to venmo or e-transfer it, but despite his young appearance, Sam firmly believes in not leaving a paper or cash trail behind. They’d joked that it was ok if he had a criminal past, they were used to hanging out with the unsavoury crowd. But when he went silent and drifted back in time, they quietly accepted his outlook, even if it made it damn near impossible to pay him back for his generosity.

They sat on the couch, answering calls and texts from their pack and family. Giving half-hearted responses and begging Asher to stop fucking singing was what they did. Their mom asked if they would come home soon. (ہمیں آخری بار ایک دوسرے کو دیکھے کافی عرصہ ہو گیا ہے۔) But between Quinn and the pack and their lawyer work, it was another birthday away from their parents. (مجھے بہت افسوس ہے ماں، شاید اگلے سال؟) It gets easier to treat their birthday as non-important to their parents every year that goes by, but it’s getting harder to ignore the pain in their mom’s voice.

Before their eyes teared up at their parent’s disappointment, there was a knock on the door. They jumped, doing a quick once over of their place. Darlin’ took a deep breath, trying in vain to calm their pounding heart, and opened the door with their signature deadpan.

There he was. Leaning against the door frame with a cake and takeout in his hands, with that stupid smile on his face. It had to be illegal to be this attractive and sweet and caring, wrapped up into the finest body they have ever seen. They should sue him for stealing their heart because they know if he breaks it, they may never recover.

Fuck, it’s always terrifying to bare their emotions freely, but Darlin’ was used to it.

So why is he different, and how would he hurt them in the end?

“I know David probably threatened you to do this, but you really didn’t have to.” They waited to see if Sam would walk in on his own, but between being a vampire and being a southern gentleman, he needed a written invitation on gold paper to invite himself inside. Darlin’ moved out of the way to let the vampire inside.

He shook his head and smiled, walking inside and taking his shoes off. “David didn’t force me to do nothin’, darlin’. In fact,” he placed the bag of takeout and cake on the table, “he seems more worried about his own ass then my own.” He chuckled and opened his arms, waiting for Darlin’ to hug him. (Always waiting. Always patient with them.)

They held himself back from jumping into his arms, wrapping their arms around his waist. Taking a deep breath (though not too deep to seem weird), Darlin’ responded. “Good. He knows what’s gonna happen at the next meetin’.” Their shoulders relaxed when they felt his arms around him, and for a vampire, his body was warmer than most. At least warmer than Quinn.

He laughed, squeezing them closer to his chest. (Bury them in his rib cage to keep them safe.) “I’m sure you’ll beat his ass.” He rested his chin on top of them, rubbing their back in the process. If they had less willpower than they do, they would have fallen asleep right then and there. “Happy Birthday, Darlin’.”

Pulling away, Darlin’ looked at Sam’s warm and beautiful eyes. And for the first time that day, they smiled and said, “Thank you, Sam,” with genuine sincerity. It wasn’t forced or given because they were obligated too. Darlin’ didn’t know why it was different with him. They like to think it’s because they didn’t expect all this from a man they had met only a few months ago, or it’s because Sam was the type of man who didn’t let many into his heart, so it was an honour to receive this care from him so often.

(It’s definitely not because Darlin’ is in love with him. It can’t be. Subtly looking to the side of the pots they had out, Darlin’ saw the face of a person who despite their best effort, could never make the right decision. They were messy and cruel and violent when needed, and Sam deserved softness. They might not know what he’s gone through in life, or why he’s the isolated curmudgeon of the clan, but it didn’t matter. He deserved the most sweetest and nicest and easiest and amazing partner to exist. Someone who didn’t make the worst case scenarios the norm or made him prepare for lecture beforehand.)

(People like Darlin’ don’t get soft endings, their jagged and sharp edges mangle the delicate future they could have if they weren’t so fucked up. They would rip the destinies from others, picking and choosing the sequence of events that are worthy to be Sam’s truth, but they won’t stick around to ruin it any further. Fate damns those who go against her wishes, and Darlin’ wasn’t going to let Sam be collateral damage.)

They cleared their throat to end the impromptu staring contest and turn to get plates from their cupboards. “How has your day been, cowboy?” They asked while placing the plates and cutlery on the table.

He took a seat at the barstool chair. “It’s been good,” he started. “William’s been getting ready for the Monarchal Summit, meanin’ we’re all workin’ overtime to get ready.” He stretched his back and Darlin’ bit their lip to stop themselves from making a comment from a popping noise. They slid him a plate of food, causing him to raise his eyebrow. “Ain’t you gonna eat too?”

They nodded their head. “I will, but I gotta do some things first real quickly.” They walked over to the sink, wanting to wash the dishes before they ate. But before they could turn the water on, Sam held their wrist to stop them.

“Darlin’, it’s your birthday. Let me do ‘em for ya.” He slowly reached for their waist to move them out of the way. Not like they were going to let that stop them.

“Sammy, you’re my guest. I can’t let ya do my housework.” They huffed, staring him dead in the eye to convince him otherwise.

He leaned over the wolf, pinning them to the counter. Now this is playing dirty. How on Earth were they supposed to focus when he’s staring them down like that? Their mind was wandering to some unholy territory, but they needed to win this argument.

“In my family, the birthday person don’t do shit ‘round the house.”

“Well in my family, the guests are served first. You got a problem with that, pretty boy?”

After a few moments of staring into each other’s eyes, Sam shook his head and picked Darlin’ up and carried them to a stool. Placing them down, he commanded, “Now you’re gonna sit pretty o’er here while I do the dishes, understood?”

Well shit. With a voice like that, how can they not listen to him? With a dazed look and complaints dying on their tongue, Darlin’ nodded. “I ain’t gon’ eat till you done, asshole.”

He smirked and promptly started on the dishes. “Of course, didn’t expect nothin’ less.” With that, his focus went back to the dishes, trying to finish up as fast as they can to end Darlin’s hunger strike.

They placed their arms on the table, resting their chin on it to stare at the man in front of them. For a selfish moment, they let their eyes indulge in the braids in his hair to his tan and unmarred skin to those built arms. They, of course, let their eyes linger on his arms, thinking about how big they are, how much work it went into achieving that size…

…How they would feel wrapped around their waist… How safe they would make them feel…

“Have I ever told you why I moved to Dahlia?”

He paused his dishwashing, looking up at the birthday wolf. Raising his eyebrows, he says, “How come?” It was rare that the wolf spoke about themselves, let alone their life before Dahlia.

They took a deep breath. “I was 15 and walkin’ back from a basketball game. It was December, so it was dark as shit at 4 PM. Not that it was a problem, I always walked alone, so it was whatever.” They straightened their back. “I thought it was a good idea to walk alone ‘cuz I didn’t wanna wait in the cold for 15 minutes just for a packed bus to come. Besides, the walk wasn’t that bad.”

Darlin’ chuckled at their stupidity. In hindsight, it was so easy to see their mistake. “Halfway through, a white van pulled up beside me and some assholes dragged me inside. Knocked me out too. Took me to some fightin’ ring bullshit since they could tell I was a shifter.”

Sam put the rest of his dishes away and walked around to stand besides Darlin’. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

They shook their head with a laugh. “Oh I wasn’t there for long. Someone saw me get taken and the license plate of the van so the cops could track ‘em. There were some that had been there from time, though. I got out ‘fore I got thrown in the ring. But, like, let’s be honest, I woulda kicked some ass.”

(Sam didn’t need to know that Darlin’ was convinced they were never going to get out. That the fact the police even looked for them was a miracle. Disappearing kids weren’t a new phenomenon to them. Everyone growing up had a friend or a family member that was taken but never found. Darlin’ was convinced they were going to be another statistic in a long line of tragic lives that ended quickly.)

(No one cares for the Black and Brown kids from Scarborough.)

He flicked their forehead gently. “Just ‘cus it didn’t last for long don’t mean it wasn’t fuckin’ terrifyin’. You were just a kid, Darlin’.”

Yeah. Yeah, they were just a kid.

They sniffled and wiped their eyes. “Right, um, yeah. Anywho, my parents didn’t think the city was safe anymore, so we packed our bags and moved out here.” The pleading that the event was a one time thing didn’t stop the rushed search of a new home. Within a month, Darlin’ had to say goodbye to all their friends and the neighbourhood they grew up in. Resentment and denial brewed in them, thinking this was all a dream until they stepped onto the plane.

The silence was deafening, filled with unsaid comforts and reassurances.

Why on Earth did they drop that story on him? Sam had only come by to celebrate their birthday, something he didn’t even have to do. He didn’t ask for this story and Darlin’ never voluntarily gave out information. They’ve always been taught that people will use their secrets against them, using their own trauma as knives to further hurt them. Not that it would stop people from spilling their story.

Ripping their heart on a silver platter to feed the wolves around them, but it was never enough. So they would break and build themselves to entertain and if they could get a good laugh, then their job would be complete. Because even if it was better to have no friends than bad friends, they so desperately wanted connections that they would smile with bloody teeth and bruised lips to convince themselves that people were laughing with them and not at them.

But Sam wouldn’t do that to them. (It wasn't a question or an unsure statement, it was the truth.)

Breaking the silence, Darlin’ looked Sam in the eye. “You wanna hear about me bein’ a dumbass?”

Sam scoffed, “Is your version of bein’ dumbass include you dying in a ditch?” They knew he said it in jest, but there was an undertone of desperation and fear in his voice. Darlin’ wishes they could soothe that pain in his voice.

“No, no, not that kind of dumbass.” They grab a couple of plates and the takeout Sam brought so they can have some food with a less depressing story. “Have I mentioned that I have family in the south?” They let out a giggle at the indignant noise that Sam let out. They kept this fact hidden from him because they knew once he found out, they’d be in for another lecture on how ‘every southern person ain’s cowboy.’

“So you know bein’ southern don’t equal bein’ a cowboy? But you still call me cowboy every damn chance you can get?” He sat next to them, facing towards the wolf. One arm resting on the table while the other rubs his face in frustration. “They didn’t teach ya any southern manners? Maybe they should have their southern card revoked.”

They rolled their eyes and handed him a plate. “Oh ha ha. You got jokes now, wait til I tell you this story.” They sat next to him and started eating the food. Shocked by the quality of the food, Darlin’ moaned out a thank you to Sam for buying all this food.

(Sam get your mind out of the gutter and get your friend under control.)

Swallowing the food, they continued with the story. “So, I don’t know why, but my cousin was obsessed with me also havin’ a southern accent. So he-” They started to chuckle at the memory. Chuckles turned to full blown laughter to Darlin’ clutching their stomach in pain. It had been a while since they let out a laugh this loud, but it felt good to not contain themselves for once.

“Sounds like a good story if you can’t tell it without laughin’.” Adoration in his eyes, he kept looking at Darlin’. They didn’t notice it, too busy keeping themselves from choking on the food they just ate.

Finally calming down and completely breathless, Darlin’ finished their story. “I don’t know why he did this, but he told me that all southern people end their sentences with ‘yeehaw’. So for the longest time, I always add a ‘yeehaw’ to the end of southern sentences.”

“So… Do you do that with me?”

Their silence was enough to confirm the vampire’s suspicions and send him on the table laughing.

Darlin’ gently assaulted Sam, making sure they weren’t doing serious damage, but enough to let him know that they don't appreciate his reaction. In all honesty they weren’t completely against this reaction. For as long as Darlin’ known Sam, he wouldn’t let a smile slip on his face, let alone laughter. A real shame too, Sam has such an ethereal smile and an infuriatingly melodic laugh. It wasn’t fair! Why was he so pretty when laughing at them?

(Darlin’ thinks back to their earlier thoughts. About how they’d keep people laughing at them to keep them around. Usually, it hurt to be the town’s object of ridicule and criticism, but maybe it’s a sin to keep from laughing. So perhaps they found themselves genuinely smiling along with him for the first time in ever.)

With a huff, Darlin’ says, “How dare you make fun of my naivety, Samuel? You mean and vile and vicious vampire.” They turn away from him, facing the delicious cake that he bought and hiding the stupid smile they have on their face. Come to think of it, how did Sam know to buy chocolate cake? It is one of those cakes that are universally loved, so it’s a good assumption. Yet to their knowledge, Sam only knew them as a ‘sweets disliker’. A delusional part of them wants to think that they’re so linked that he didn’t need to be told. (Or give David one less punch.)

Once Sam’s laughter finally dies down, Darlin’ turns back around and asks him, “Why the chocolate cake?” He tilted his head in confusion, yet silent to give them the room to continue. “I mean- not a lot of people know I like chocolate.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle. “If I tell ya, promise you won’t hurt nobody?”

“No promises can be made.”

“David told me to buy you one.”

Oh, so that is one less punch for David. The fact that he remembered that weird fact about themself was a testament of how much time and change their Alpha has gone through. (And how they’ve stagnated, using their pain as a blanket to keep them from getting older.)

With a shake of their head and a childish huff, they grab the cake and a knife. “Of course he did. Fuckin’ asshole.” They moved to slice the cake, before Sam stopped them with a shit eating smile on his face. “Don’t I gotta sing you a song?”

“No you don't-”

“Happy Birthday to you.”~

Darlin’ groaned and covered their ears. The only thing that has going for him is that it's Sam singing and he's a better singer than Asher. They threw their arms up in defeat, having given up in stopping him from singing, and definitely not because they wanted to listen to his heavenly voice.

Once the performance was done, Darlin’ cut two slices of cakes, one for themselves and the vampire they love. It was simple and quiet, the perfect way to end their birthday. No performing for other people or coercion to have fun. Quinn wasn’t hovering over their shoulder taking random bites from their neck.

“You know, I’m sorry I couldn’t get a proper gift for you,” he apologized with sincerity, but that sincerity had him leaning back, avoiding a flick on his forehead from Darlin’. “What! It’s true!”

Quietly, they grabbed a pillow from their couch and started to hit him. He can’t get away for doing all of this and saying it isn’t enough. What a fool. (Oh, they want him so fucking desperately.) Darlin’ scoffed, “You have already done enough for me! What more do you wanna do?”

With a smile, he gently grabbed their wrist and moved it down, ending the tirade of pillow attacks. They were paralyzed in one spot, completely enamoured by Sam. It wasn’t a trance, they were infinitely familiar with the oppressive hold of one. This was something stronger and more personal, they felt it in their core. Technically, vampires are incapable of bridging since they are dead creatures of the night, but this was the closest either of them were going to get to. Sam raised a hand to place on their cheek, thumb rubbing the scar under their eye. Almost like he could heal every scar and mark on their body, no matter how deep and violating they may be.

He leaned over, whispering in their ear, “All I want to give you…”

“Is a goddamn sense of preservation.”

“Oh, you ASSHOLE!”

The sounds of Sam’s laughter, Darlin’s cursing, a vampire zipping around and a wolf shifting were coming from their shitty apartment. For the first time, Dahlia has felt like home.

(David, Asher, Milo and their mates left when they heard the sounds of joy coming from the wolf’s little home. It was best not to disturb the two while they’re having fun. The pack can always throw a belated party for them.)

#redacted asmr #redacted audio #redacted fanfic #redacted darlin #redacted sam #lets play a game #which stories are real and which ones are fabricated for the fic hehehehe #zo writes tingz #this is zo speaking

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 1 year

Note

Are you still doing the yandere family series?

I am!

But I'm so happy that your interested

Since a new chapter is in the works

I'll give you a little snippet

🖤🖤🖤🖤

A Promise for the Future | Yandere Family

Victor wasn’t often left to wander in the Froth home. Usually Michael or Yulia would take the lead; taking him to play games or listen in on their plans. But they were called away leaving Victor to explore hislove's Michael’s room.

He admits he was digging deeper than he meant to but he silently cheered as he found many things that helped him understand his love friend. Boxes filled with various baby trinkets, and letters probably meant to never be read. After taking a sneaky look behind him and at the door he began to read.

“Dear Yulia,

Your too young now to realize it but our mother is wretch. Today I witnessed the disrespect she showed your beautiful painting of our family. I can’t describe how much I’d love to strangle her but I won’t since you like her so much.

Baby (Y/n) has been fussy lately. I think its cause their teething or maybe they just like attention. Unfortunately I don’t have time to tell since mother and Dad are pretty fixed on this Appleworth plan. If you ask one day I’ll tell you but for now just know that we need to be friends. At first I thought the purple haired kid named Victor was-”

His reading was cut off by the frustrated cooing two rooms over. He fought with himself. He really wanted to read what his Michael had to say about him but he desperately wanted to investigate. He put the letter back in its place, restoring the hiding space to the best of his abilities before scampering in the direction of sound.

He knew it was the sound of the baby (Y/n). Even so his heart fluttered and heat tickled his cheek as he came closer to the nursery door. He had seen babies before but as an only child all he got was the limited view from a few parents in his mother’s circle.

Finally turning the knob he let himself in. Filled with the soft smell that only babies seemed to have. Frustrated gurgles came from the wiggling baby in the cradle. Taking a nearby stool he carefully stood up before looking down at the little (s/c) baby looking up at him.

“Hi there baby!”

Vincent thinks your the cutest. Its just as Michael rants about when he’s happy, a baby with bright (e/c) eyes and chubby cheeks. He resisted the urge to pinch them. Even as he made kissy and silly faces nothing seemed to distract you, as you continued to fuss. He didn’t know how to pick you up so he picked his brain for what he found comfortable.

Finally remembering what he could he decided to climbed over the cradle railing. Watching his feet as he in next to you. He happily sniffed in your overwhelming baby-scent as he scooched closer. Breathing in deep he began to rub the baby’s belly. Frustrated to contented coos he happily watched as your eyelids began to droop. Watching you intently, he let his urge to kiss at your plush cheek take over continuing to rub at the baby’s belly. Soon he too began to slip away falling asleep alongside baby (Y/n) with full-intentions to help Michael. He planned to protect you if not for his own ambition than for Michael.

Yandere Family (original series) Masterlist

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trevorite · 2 months

Text

I just Wish.

[Now Normally I don't write fan fiction because I struggle with Writing but I did this as a practice so I can get better :D] [Ps: This ain't happy fan fiction Sob]

The rain fell making a soft pitter patter as it hit the roof of the Villa. Kerry was fast asleep and all cuddled up to his pillow, sleeping in just his underwear as he always did. Meanwhile Vincent was outside sitting down in one of the sun loungers that were near Kerry’s lake-like pool. He had a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a cigarette between the fingers of his other hand. It may have been raining but V didn’t care, he just… needed some time to think. It felt like just yesterday everything happened… felt like just yesterday him and Jackie were having fun doing gigs, making fun of each other, and fucking around just being gonks together. That just yesterday he had gone out and done the horrid heist at Konpeki Plaza with Jackie and T-bug.. and had lost both of them. And that just yesterday Dexter Deshawn had put a bullet into his head, and he woke up with a terrorist named Johnny fucking Silverhand Yelling at him for a smoke. Truthfully that had only been a few months ago, but it all was still so vivid. The memories kept replaying in V’s head, and every time they did he felt more and more guilty. Didn’t help that he was also dying, getting worse by the day. Finding a way to save both him and Johnny seemed impossible at this point, but he wasn’t going to just give up, not just yet. V sat up for a moment, setting the bottle of whiskey down as he took off his jacket. “Johnny?” he called out, waiting for a response. Of course the one time he wanted to talk to Johnny he was busy doing who knows what. V sighed, as he leaned back again. He had been feeling a bit down lately, and he couldn’t figure out why.. yeah he knew one of the reasons was because he was dying, but he just didn’t understand what else was making him so down. I mean he had everything he could dream of currently, a pretty and kind lover, a body that he felt comfortable in, fuck he had even been staying in a nice home with the man of his dreams. “Damn it Vincent… everything has been going pretty great, you’ve even got some leads on how to bring back Johnny, stop being such a depressed gonk,” V muttered to himself. He took a long drag of his cigarette, now pressing the cigarette against his arm to put it out. Then he grabbed the bottle of whiskey leaning back in the lounger, taking a sip of the drink… before just closing his eyes. The rain kept falling from the sky, and at this point V was soaking wet, but he didn’t care, he loved the rain. He took this time to just think about everything, and why he had been so down lately. A few hours passed, which had only seemed like a few minutes to V.. but he had slowly started realizing why he had been feeling the way he had been. Just 2 months ago Kerry had all the time in the world to hang out with him but ever since Kerry had started making music with the Us Cracks and working on his new album they had started hanging out less. “Oh I can’t be upset with that, he’s happy, and that’s all that matters,” he spoke to himself, now softly sighing, before thinking about it more. I keep waking up to nothing. I used to wake up with Kerry right next to me, all snuggled up, but now I wake up in the morning and he’s already up, already doing something else. He’s often busy now as well, we rarely talk. Lately, I’ve only seen him in the morning playing guitar on the couch or at dinner. Working towards finding a cure has also made it hard to see or talk to him but I’ve been trying to make time. But it seems every time I am able to get some time off to just hang out with him, he’s busy. I just want things to work out in the end… but I don’t even know if Kerry has noticed that I’ve been getting worse. I can barely eat, feel sick every time I try to, and I’m getting weaker by the day. I’ve been having more frequent seizures, and barely can recover from them…

Vincent had got so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t even realize that he had started crying, or that Johnny had appeared next to him. “Ay, kiddo I promise you things are going to work out, even if I have to get wiped,” Johnny stated as he looked down at V. “I’m not letting that fucking happen Johnny, and you know that, and you know how bad things have been getting…,” he now looked up at Johnny, “I just need you to promise me something okay fuckface?”

“Alright kiddo, have no idea what you need me to promise you, but I promise,” Johnny laughed softly, sitting down on the side of the lounge chair. “If I don’t wake up one morning and you wake up in my body… I want you to take care of Kerry for me, help him get over my death..” V looked off to the side before looking back at Johnny, “Just be there for him, make him happy… got it..?” He now closed his eyes again, yawning.

Johnny sat in silence for a moment before speaking, “Alright, got it.” Johnny said softly, running his hand through V’s hair. “I just wish we both could live, that’s all I want Johnny, for us to live and both be happy,” V stated softly, before drifting off to sleep.

#cyberpunk 2077 #trevorite #male v #kerry eurodyne #cyberpunk vincent #cyberpunk #cyberpunk 2077 fanfic #cyberpunk fanfic #kerry eurodyne x v #male v x kerry #cyberpunk kerry #johnny silverhand #fanfic #sad fanfiction

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