#this was printed out in the break room at work lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heartthrobin · 1 year

Text

please love me, like the wave does the shore

aaron hotchner x female!reader

wc: 7.9k

warnings: fake!dating, SO much pining, mentions of murder, only one bed, Hotch is very whipped lol, this is so cliché it should be a crime

an: the moment y’all have been waiting for! i hope you kids enjoy! this will probably become a lil series so stay tuned for part 2 :)

summary: murders along the glistening white coast of Cape Cod was not a good look for anybody. especially not the BAU. the case needs a turn around, a big break, but most importantly: a Mr and Mrs.

Portraits of grinning faces watched you from the whiteboard.

Women’s eyes twinkling. Husband’s grinning to the camera. At their wedding, in the woods during a camping trip, on a birthday.

"We have fucking nothing!"

Names and dates lined the edges of what used to be treasured memories in red marker. Memories each couple was not around to remember anymore.

"We have the profile." Hotch's voice was stern. It made the hair on your arms stand on end.

Outside, the ocean crashed loudly against the shore. Seagulls gabbled in the distance near the dock.

"You know that's not enough."

Chatham was one of the most influential and wealthy suburbs in Cape Cod, if not the whole state. Discovering strung out bodies on the crisp white beaches almost five times that month wasn't fitting for the shoreline that housed some of the most elaborate mansions in the county.

The BAU had been in Cape Cod for nearly three weeks. Two weeks too long in the bureau's opinion: a view shared by the team.

Derek slammed his hand loudly against the white board, over a photo of a tall, cream, wood-boarded resort sprawled over the edge of the coast. Seagull's Rest: Couples Retreat and Spa.

"Seagull's Rest is the only place that connects them.” He huffed, pressing his finger into the printed photo. “Every day that passes is another honeymooning couple that's in danger."

Emily sighed somewhere behind you. David lingered by the edge of the desk where Spencer was driving his eyes over some Greek mythology textbook, working the human sacrifice angle he’d been insistent on sharing with you over coffee that morning.

Police chatter busied the space between you and the other agents.

"Morgan," you pressed, "we have no idea what that even means. It could be maids, spa staff ... for all we know, it could even be other guests."

The room was warm, bright: through the window you could overlook the ocean. A scene too beautiful to deserve the blood painted across it’s portrait.

Nights dissolved into mornings at the sheriff's station. Coffee mugs finding purchase in the maze of photos, medical reports, staff lists: all leading back to the one place all four couples were spending their vacation.

"You know what this means, don't you?" David's voice carried over from behind you. You turned to face him, his gaze set hard upon Hotch's.

The team leader's jaw was tight.

He looked like he was considering David's words closely, sucking in a breath like it hurt him to do so.

Emily's chair squeaked where she leaned forward in it, "What is he talking about?"

Hotch's narrow eyes turned to face the team again. "We need to go in. Work the case from the inside."

"Undercover?" You probed, jaw loosening in surprise.

The team hadn't worked an undercover project in almost two years. Everyone understood that they were a last resort, when general good-old detective work wasn't doing the trick.

Hotch nodded stiffly.

"We're gonna need a couple to go in. Two of us. The pair has to match the preference of the unsub."

There was a heavy quiet before a collective understanding, a collective resignation.

"Fine." Derek nodded. He turned to face the board again. "The husbands, what are we looking for?"

"Alpha males, domineering personalities." David lifted a photo off the desk, examining it closer. "All high-power careers, wealthy. They have a handle on these women. Other couple's in the course with them reported the husband being out of touch, unaffectionate."

Spencer rose to stand, "But no specific physical traits. Unlike the women, they share a specific appearance: the hair, the height, the body shape. They all look like—"

Cold passed over your whole body from the highest point on your head. Like ice water had flooded your shoes.

"Like me."

Teeth sunk into the corner of your lip, the metal taste of blood nipped at your tongue.

It was impossible not to feel the weight of the team’s gaze, how they flickered quickly between where you sat and the photos against the board.

Spencer shrugged, nodding slowly. "Yes, like you."

You chuckled softly, missing most of the humor in the situation as you sunk further back into your chair. "I guess that's settled then."

It wouldn't be your first time working undercover, but you couldn’t say you were as experienced as your colleagues.

You'd joined the BAU last, working every possible hour and chasing down every possible lead to try stay in one of the most coveted positions at the bureau.

It definitely wasn't the easiest thing you’d ever done.

Yes, the team was welcoming - Emily worked hard to make you feel at home, empathizing with you about the difficulty of transitioning into such a team: a team that knows each other's every move and every thought before they themselves have moved or thought - and Spencer was always a friendly face.

Derek was considerate and David was a genius in the line of duty, a marvel to watch work.

What really made it difficult, was Hotch.

In the beginning, he was wary of you. You could feel him lingering when you worked, every decision you made or observation you gathered was held under the magnifying glass of Aaron Hotchner.

With time, he eased up. Trusted you with more, scrutinized over less.

It was then that the next - considerably more concerning - problem began, when you began to miss having his presence over your shoulder.

When your eyes began to linger over his hands where they rested on his holster, or fixate quietly when he brought that steaming morning mug to his lips - sipping oh, so gently.

You were so sure he'd kiss with the same tenderness. The thought kept you up at night.

The feelings you so embarrassingly held for your boss were pushed deep into the corners of your brain.

You felt secure in the knowledge that you acted as casual as possible. Nobody had mentioned anything, and the thought of Hotch ever catching even an inkling of an idea would be enough to never walk back into BAU headquarters ever again.

The only person who really knew anything was Emily.

It had slipped after a drunken night out, on the couch in her apartment, your fat tears staining her blouse: "he's so fucking hot I can't do this!"

And there he was. Silhouette dark against the cast of the sunlight through the window, looking down at you from his towering height. "You're sure you're ready for this?"

His voice wrapped carefully around your throat and you almost choked on its softness.

You coughed instead. "Ready as I'll ever be."

He nodded once, turning back to Derek. "The male?"

Derek shook his head, "Rossi and I went over there a couple days ago to question the owners. They know we're FBI."

The room turned to Spencer, who blinked big hazel eyes at the room innocuously.

You did little to suppress the giggle that bubbled out from your chest. Your heart knocked loudly when you felt Hotch's eyes flicker over his shoulder back at you.

"You wanna be our dominant alpha, Reid?" Emily's lips tugged into a playful grin, clicking the end of her pen loudly.

Soft laughter permeated the room, David knocked Spencer’s shoulder teasingly.

Spencer flushed a light pink, his gaze finding purchase at the open space between his two feet. "Yes. Very funny."

It took more than a few seconds for you to realize that without Spencer, there stood only one other possible candidate.

Your eyes climbed the length of Hotch's long black blazer sleeve. When you reached the top you found him already looking at you. You shivered.

"I suppose that means it’s me then."

Purposefully avoiding his gaze, you found Emily staring right at you - a grin curling up at the corners of her mouth.

"Mr and Mrs Hotchner." David chirped, a mischievous edge to his words. "Congratulations."

You managed to squeak out a sarcastic "thanks Rossi" but Hotch stayed quiet. It made you want to sink into the crevice of your desk chair.

Instead, he turned back to Spencer.

"Get Garcia on the line. She needs to set up aliases and get us registered for the next couple's course as soon as possible."

Spencer nodded once before disappearing into the next room wordlessly.

Next, he turned to you - sucking all the breath out your lungs.

God, he made it so hard to act normal when he showed up in that fucking suit and that perfectly professional haircut.

"I want you to go over the backgrounds of the women again. Get a feel for the unsub's preference, there may be a personality type that he likes best. I'll do the same with the men." You nodded, going to stand and finding yourself always just a little too far from his chest.

"While we're away, the rest of you need to work off the intel we feed. Let's solve this before there's more bodies."

Agents began moving in every direction: out the door, back towards boxes of evidence, but Emily crossed the room to you: eyes wide and alight with mischief.

She grabbed your hand, pulling you from the room and leaving Hotch behind. "This is going to be so fucking good."

Your stomach churned.

Just shy of two days later, you found yourself sitting in the front seat of a Mercedes Benz - god knows the bureau has its ways - only two streets down from Shellshore drive, where tucked into the curve sat Seagull's Rest: the beautiful lodge on the Cape Cod coast that offered couple's courses for new and old marriages that delve into the depths of the soul and connect partners in love and touch.

At least that's what the pamphlet said as it stared up at you from your lap.

It sat at the top of the stack of case files, documents and photos hidden beneath. You pulled out the ID from the midst of the stack.

The photo you'd taken the previous afternoon glimmered up at you: Mrs Eleanor Thompson.

With less than a couple inches of space dividing you, in the driver's seat, sat Hotch.

Penelope was talking over the car speaker.

"I signed you guys up for the Honeymooner's Retreat. It's six days long, but I'm sure you'll be out by then. There are five other couples doing this course with you, you'll find their names in the documents I sent. All their records are clean."

"Garcia, I want you to cross reference all the course instructors with anybody who has—"

Hotch's voice faded from your surroundings, your brain stuttering electrically as your eyes raked over his outfit.

A tight fit black polo that was hugging his chest and chino pants begging for relief over those long thighs.

The last two days had been painful.

You'd slept almost nothing: tossing and turning for hours over the idea that you'd soon be in much closer proximity to Aaron Hotchner than you'd ever been. Too close.

Emily had tried to calm you down, "just ... focus on the case, okay? whatever happens happens."

It was easy for her to say.

Her legs didn't liquify every time Hotch sent small praise her way, like they did on you, and she didn’t have flashing images of taking care of him in the way he never does himself plague her in the small moments of quiet throughout her day.

Making him breakfast, or taking his blazer off after a long case ... undoing the buttons down his shirt—

"They're expecting you for check in at five o clock."

Your eyes found the digital clock on the dashboard, it blinked red at you: 16:47

"Thank you Garcia."

"Yeah," you added quickly, "Thanks Garcia."

"Good luck lovebirds." The teasing lilt in her voice did nothing to calm the high power washing machine your stomach had transformed to.

Heat rushed over your face.

You could feeling Hotch watching you from the corner of his eye. "Are you sure you're ready to do this?"

Sliding your stack of pages into the Louis Vutton handbag at your feet, you forced a smile to press up into your lips.

"To marry you, Hotch?" You feigned a soft sigh, "I've only waited all my life."

The bubbling in your stomach simmered only slightly when Hotch rolled his eyes, what was almost a smile teasing at his lips. "I'll take that as a yes."

The car rumbled to a start beneath you, the expensive engine purring.

"We know what to look for. Keep your eyes on the guests, the instructors, anybody we interact with."

It was hard to focus on Hotch's advice when his wide hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly.

But you nodded anyways.

It felt like less than a few seconds before the car was being pulled into a luxurious white cobblestone driveway. A sign etched in ivory-coloured wood overhead marked the road: Welcome to Seagull’s Rest.

Bellboys stood in the distance under a grand arched entrance in cream uniforms, luxury cars stretched out in every direction of the parking lot.

The car rumbled to a stop. A valet attendant was already approaching before you’d even a second to gather what was left of your courage.

Hotch turned to you, slow and deliberate as was his manner, leaning precariously over the console. "Remember, we're being watched."

The door opened abruptly on your side, you glanced up to meet the face of the young man holding open the door. He couldn't be older than twenty.

He smiled. "Good afternoon and welcome to the Seagull's Rest."

Your eyes flickered back as Hotch climbed out from the other side, you smiled up at the boy before lifting the end of the olive-green sundress you'd been coerced into wearing and stepped out.

Hotch had rounded the car before you'd even straightened out. He tossed the keys at the attendant.

You were taken aback by how quickly he could escape his usually impeccable manners.

"Be careful with the luggage. There's things in there worth twelve times your salary."

You sucked in a sharp breath when he took your hand into his, sliding his fingers between yours. His palm was pressed so firmly you thought you might collapse.

He made matters worse when he cleared his throat loudly, "Come on, honey, let's go."

The reception was a bright open room, preceded by a tall oak arch, and a high ceiling loomed over the expensive wood of the front desk.

A small framed woman stood behind it, smiling as you approached. "Good afternoon, welcome to Seagull's Rest."

Hotch only nodded curtly in greeting, pulling you abruptly up against his side so that his hand wrapped over your waist. You only hoped he couldn’t hear your heart thumping hysterically against your ribs.

"James and Eleanor Thompson." He grumbled, "We're here for the Honeymooner's Retreat."

"Of course sir, if I could see some identification please?"

Hotch slid over the two fake ID's and the woman began to tap away at the computer.

Your eyes slid up to the view from the window beyond the desk, how the sun was almost setting over the ocean visible through the crystal-clear window.

Unsure if it was driven by purpose or simply instinct, your arms snaked up to rest around Hotch's hips, letting your head lull against the side of his chest just softly.

His chest swelled. You tried not to read into it.

"Baby," it took a moment, presumable for Hotch to realize you were referring to him, but he hummed in response, not looking down at you.

"Hm?"

You motioned to the window, "Look how beautiful it is. You couldn't have chosen a better spot."

Instead of Hotch, the woman at the front desk spoke in response.

"We boast one of the best spots along our coast. The morning yoga sessions are spectacular if that's something you enjoy, and we have cocktail evening tonight at our restaurant on the beach." Her voice dripped in sugar, sliding the two ID's and the keycard to the room back over the counter.

"That sounds wonderful—"

Hotch's stern voice pierced through your own, "Yes, well, we'll see."

The woman - Leslie, as her tag suggested - glanced carefully between Hotch and yourself. She offered you a quietly sympathetic look before meeting Hotch's face again.

"Y-Yes, of course sir."

You stayed quiet after that, allowing her to direct James and Eleanor to their room. Second floor at the end of the hallway.

Hotch huffed dramatically, grabbing the cards from the desk.

His hand slid from your waist and you almost had enough time to mourn the loss of his warmth against your side before that large hand wove itself back between yours - simultaneously warming and chilling every blood vessel in your body.

Hotch pulled you in the direction of the elevator. Nothing was said between you, only the swish of your dress and the heavy step of his leather shoes against the floors.

You two followed the corridor as instructed, gaze flickering curiously up to your fake husband every few moments before your interest caught the better of you.

"You're a little too good at playing the asshole, James." Your hand squeezed gently against his, "Something you want to tell me?"

He shook his head, "Nothing comes to mind."

The luggage was already waiting at the foot of the bed when Hotch pushed the door open, allowing you to step in first.

A gasp escaped you.

The room had to be the most exquisite thing you’d seen in all your life.

It was lined in crisp white and cream decor, a velvet couch along the one wall and a sprawling balcony that overlooked the ocean - the sound of the waves filling every crevice of the space.

There was a thud and you turned to find Hotch opening his briefcase, pulling out the neatly packed pressed shirts that lay within.

"Hotch—"

Quicker than it took you to blink in fright, Hotch's hand closed over your mouth. He shook his head, tapping his ear. "Wires." He mouthed.

You nodded quickly, feeling stupid.

His hand dropped and embarrassment flushed hot over your neck. You looked away from him.

This wasn't a holiday and Hotch wasn't your husband.

Eight people were dead.

Unease burnt at your chest, the same kind that had been building with every passing day and every piling body. You moved in silent to unpack your own handbag where you'd placed your files.

Hotch watched you carefully, as you leaned over the bag - silhouette forming against the red and purple tones of the picturesque sky behind you.

He stared a little longer than necessary, capturing the view to his mind.

It was something he found himself doing too often. Whenever he could find a moment, an excuse. His gaze would linger on your frame, your face.

When your fingers would twitch against your necklace or when you laughed a little too loudly for the Quantico office when Spencer told his terrible, very specifically not funny jokes.

But he was Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief, and nothing if not the epitome of professionalism.

He planted himself far enough from the line to where he could go about his day and pretend like he didn't lose sleep at night thinking about you.

"James, did you pack the charger?" Your voice was loud, but wavered slightly. You didn't look up to his face as you usually did.

Hotch tried to convince himself that he didn’t notice.

"Yes, honey, it's in the side pocket."

There was no charger and definitely no need to ask about one besides making casual conversation in the case that wires tapped the room.

Reminded of the very real circumstance, Hotch abandoned the shirts on the bed to move around the room.

Behind him you were doing the same.

He lifted lamp shades, checked under drawers, desks and the headboard for any listening device that could have been planted before they came in.

You shuffled around behind the television stand and at the railings of the curtain before slipping into the bathroom.

Twenty minutes passed in silence before Hotch climbed back to his feet from where he was crouched down under the bed frame.

"We should be in the clear." He announced to you where you still occupied the bathroom.

"Check what I found." You emerged, sundress flittering around your ankles.

He cursed the sway of the material. Somehow you'd arrived in that green dress to the sheriff's station and it had made every nerve connecting his body to his brain turn fuzzy and the man of steel that was Aaron Hotchner was having a harder time than usual keeping his eyes to himself.

You waved a white envelope at him, "It was stuck to the window."

Hotch took it from you, it was addressed to a Mr and Mrs Thompson.

"That's us." He muttered, finger sliding to break its seal.

You stood against his side, close enough to read the letter where he slid it out but also just close enough to make Hotch's head spin from the waft of your perfume.

Good afternoon Mr J and Mrs E Thompson,

We welcome you to Seagull's Rest and want to thank you for choosing to participate in our Honeymooner's Retreat. The next few days will work to strengthen the bond of love and trust between any new married couple, and of course up the intimacy!

Tonight we will be hosting a champagne evening where you will be afforded the opportunity to meet the couples that you'll be spending the next six days with.

Meet us at the Pelican Perch Restaurant on floor 1 at six o clock. We look forward to meeting you!

Kindly, Seagull Rest Staff.

The page crinkled beneath his fingers.

"This is perfect." He muttered, looking sideways at you. "It'll give us a chance to see the unsub in a social environment if he's here."

The unknown subject (unsub) was clarified before you and Hotch had left the station that morning.

David's voice still rung in his ears:

"Someone who is calm and casual in social settings, easy to get along with but holds a position that allows people to trust them. It's what he uses to lure two people at a time to their deaths."

You glanced up at the antique clock on the wall hanging above the television. "That means we should leave soon."

Hotch nodded, "Leave the packing, we'll do that when we get back."

The sun was disappearing behind the glittering ocean surface when the door shut behind you and Hotch again.

His hand slipped down over your wrist before sliding into your grasp, between your fingers and over your knuckles.

Hotch could spend all night convincing himself that holding your hand was imperative to maintaining your cover because you were married and that was in the best interest of the case, but it would still do little to calm the way his heart began to beat from his throat when your grip tightened gently around his.

You made small talk on the walk down to the restaurant, as any couple would.

Mentioning the spa and the interior designs of the glamorous hallways you passed on the walk down to the Pelican Perch restaurant on the water.

The views of the lodging was almost nothing compared to when you two walked under the green vine archway into the restaurant.

Hotch heard your little gasp beside him and was sure it made his heart grow two sizes.

Above your heads hung a glittering maze of white fairy lights overviewing a large wooden floor with tables set in every corner. The bar glittered with bottles of every colour, size and shape that lined the shelves and the wide stacking doors were opened out onto the shoreline.

A soft jazz played and near the center of the room, ten chairs were stacked in a semi-circle around a small podium.

"This is so beautiful." You whispered, almost so soft he didn't hear it.

He looked down at you, enamored by the way the lights reflected off your eyes and your lips were parted in surprise.

"It is." But his eyes never left you.

Already, three or four couples had taken seats, keening over each other as if they two were the only people in the room.

It was almost six. Hotch tugged your hand gently in the direction of the expensive looking chairs, leaning down close to your ear: "Keep your eyes on the people."

You giggled as if he'd said something naughty, putting on a good show for the surrounding guests before leaning down to sit.

The lull of the music in the room almost convinced you that it was all real.

That as you sat and Hotch settled his arm over your thighs, pulling you close against him: that it was because he wanted, not needed, to be there.

Your eyes flickered over the people, a man and a woman were ushering people to take their seats and a tall thin waiter was sauntering around with a tray of champagne glasses.

You took two from his tray, handing the other to Hotch. He gave you a look to remind you to be careful, you could practically hear him chiding "remember, we're on the job."

The champagne was as close to velvet as you'd ever tasted, sliding down your throat far too easily as the man and woman took to the podium in front of you.

The room quietened.

"Good evening to all our lovely young couples!" The man's voice was smooth, warm.

He was older, every spit of hair from his body a stark shining white. The woman was the same, they matched the decor of the resort in the cream beach sets they adorned.

Wrinkles crinkled around her eyes when she smiled, "We're so glad to have you with us. Thirty years ago, we opened the Seagull's Rest to help any couple who felt they needed a place to connect with nature and each other, and since then it's become not only a home to us - but a home to every couple who steps through our doors."

You met Hotch's eye. Owners.

Laurie and Howard Ralph. The founders of the Seagull's Rest.

Howard spoke again: "every class is taught by a qualified, friendly and helpful instructor to make you feel safe in what Laurie and I like to call the education of love."

You'd seen their photos in files and on your tablet, somehow they looked even more pretentious in person.

While you knew you weren't looking for an unsub team, their demeanors didn't put them completely out of range for being possibly responsible.

At least that's as far as your brain could conjure up with Hotch's wide thumb rubbing circles into the side of your thigh - a motion you weren’t entirely convinced he realized he was making.

"We'd like to start off the evening with a few introductions, just to break the ice between you."

They were looking down the line of people, pointing to a Hispanic couple closest to the edge. "How about you two? Tell us your names, where you're from, how you met and your favourite thing about your partner."

The man stuttered, looking to his wife for support. She smiled up at him and you couldn't help the momentary swooping ache to have somebody to look at in that warm, soft way.

"Well I'm Alice and this is my husband Marco." She patted him fondly on the chest, "We're from New York."

"We met when we were kids, we lived next door to each other for fifteen years." The husband was a shyer speaker, but his adoration for his wife leaked through his words. "Before she left for college I asked her to be my girlfriend. The rest is history, I guess."

Laurie and Howard smiled plastically, like the grin was surgically attached there.

"That's lovely, and your favourite thing about one another?" Laurie pressed, before adding, "Remember ladies and gentlemen, this experience is about making yourself vulnerable to each other and to yourself!"

"I love how he can make me feel brand new after a terrible day."

"I love the way she knows me in little ways that nobody else does."

Slowly, the couples spoke down the line.

You were introduced to the Taylors, the Andersons, the Fletchers, the Schmidts.

As the line drew shorter, your breath grew faster.

Of course you knew your story, you'd had it drilled into your brain for the last two days, but your favourite thing about Hotch?

No, you corrected yourself, not Hotch. James.

Your brain fished for a lie, dipping past the bundles of things you loved about Hotch that could so easily be picked from the bush.

But would it be so out of line to admit something honest, something he'd never even realize was true?

Eyes fell on you.

Hotch cleared his throat, his grip over your thigh tightened.

"We're the Thompsons. I'm James and this is Eleanor. We're from Colorado."

His voice was strong, stern. Someone who didn't know Hotch might say it was how he always sounded, but there he held a jagged edge to his tone. "We met at—"

"Woah, woah," Howard interrupted, chuckling nervously. "James, you're running a bit away with us here. Why don't you let your wife tell us how you met?"

Hotch mustered the audacity to look affronted. "Alright."

You fought hard to suppress a laugh. Hotch was an abnormally good actor.

He turned to you, "Darling?"

You sighed, practically scribbling ditzy airhead over your forehead and lifting a hand to fiddle with the buttons on his polo, "Well, I met James in my last year at college—"

"Screwing the professor, very classy."

The whisper came from somewhere to your left and surprised you.

It was soft enough that you were sure Howard and Laurie hadn't heard.

The look on Hotch's face, however, proved that he had. He'd grown completely stiff under your hand.

You fought to regain composure, "H-He was working at a law firm that I was doing an internship at. It was love at first sight, right baby?" You patted his chest slowly.

He nodded, eyes darting anywhere but you.

The owners nodded, urging you to continue. "That's beautiful."

You looked up, met with the side of Hotch's face - he didn't look like he was going to speak first.

"My favourite thing about James is ..." your mind flickering between some cliché or just spitting out what you really wanted to. "The way he looks out for me. Always makes sure I'm safe, even if it's risking himself."

It was mild enough to pass off for just a casual comment but nearly specific enough that if he knew how you felt that he'd catch on.

He pulled his gaze from where it was fixated on the foot of the podium, sinking it into yours and making the room feel suddenly ten degrees warmer.

"My favourite thing about Eleanor is her laugh."

It was short and sweet and deep down you really hoped it was laced in truth.

By the time you looked away from your partner, the introductions had already moved down a couple. Judging by the way the tall blonde woman who'd just announced herself as Jade Atkins was staring at you, you could already gage that she'd been the one to make the professor comment.

You could still feel Hotch's anger radiating off of him. He was hard, tense and his jaw was set tightly.

Hotch was older than you, sure. You knew that.

It was one of the things that assured - plagued - you that he would never reciprocate your feeling.

He was mature and worldly, handsome in a way no man you knew could even remotely compare.

You were younger, not that much, but still. Enough that you could be looked at sideways by stuck-up bitches like Jade Atkins.

You knew you'd never be afforded a chance ... but then why did Hotch look so angry?

He knew he was older, but he also had to know that he left a trail of swooning women wherever he went?

"James ..." you whispered.

He looked quickly down at you, clearly of the impression that it was enough of a response.

"What's wrong?"

The word looked like they hurt forcing itself from his mouth. "Nothing."

You bit the corner of your bottom lip slowly, turning over his response in your mind.

Before you could find the sense to stop yourself, you reached up and took Hotch's jaw into your grasp, pulling it down closer to your face.

Following hesitantly until he was practically leaning over, you whispered into his ear: "ignore her, she just wishes her husband wasn't a cheating alcoholic."

You pressed a warm peck against his upper cheek, close to his eye and pretended that the brush of his almost-there stubble didn't make your heart swoop down into your stomach.

Letting go, Hotch straightened out again. He looked calmer, almost like he could smile.

His eyes flickered over the man, taking in his form. It took him a moment before he whispered back, "You're right."

Within a couple minutes, the last of the couples finished their introductions and the Ralph's were speaking again.

"Thank you all, again, for coming. Please, spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other, enjoying more of our champagne—"

"Imported straight from France!" Howard interjected and the couples laughed sporadically,

"—and savor the rest of your week."

Around you, couples rose from their seats. You detangled yourself from Hotch and did the same.

Initially, you had the full intention of floating around the room together, connected at the arm to analyze the guests quietly.

However, almost immediately, the women had dissected from their husbands to form a small group by the balcony.

The men had done the same, converging near the bar.

Blinking in surprise, you look up to Hotch for further instruction.

He nods towards the women, "You should go join them."

Your face crinkled in reluctance, "Don't make me go over there, James ... our friend isn't even supposed to be a woman."

Amusement was alight in his brown eyes, but his mouth remained a thin line.

"Then," he almost made you jump when his wide hand closed softly over your cheek, dragging the side of his thumb down your face, "go enjoy the company. I'll focus on the men."

Sparked by Hotch's warm touch, slightly dizzy on it, you nodded softly before turning to the women.

It was cool out on the balcony and the women greeted when you joined the circle.

You took a long gulp from your second glass of champagne, listening only half-committed to Patricia Anderson's story about their new condo on the Los Angeles beachfront.

"So, Eleanor was it?"

Recognizing the voice as the one who'd whispered brashly behind you not more than twenty minutes previously, you turned to the woman.

Your grip tightened around your champagne glass.

"Yes. Jenna, right?"

The woman gathered the nerve to look affronted, her tennis skirt swayed with the breeze over long bronzed legs.

"Jade, actually. Jade Atkins." She cleared her throat, "My husband is Richard Atkins, he owns all the Sonja Hotels north of the equator, I'm sure you've heard of him."

Another woman - Anne Schmidt - indulged her. "That's amazing, Elijah and I stayed there a couple months ago in Switzerland."

Jade nodded, looking proud, but seemingly intent on swerving the conversation your way.

"Speaking of husbands, yours is quite the catch isn't he?" The chatter of the other women dimmed slightly, the wives sensing the change of direction.

Taking another necessarily big gulp of your champagne, you nodded. "Indeed."

"He's very handsome ... how did you manage to tie him down?"

Her words dripped in condescension.

"Just got lucky, what can I say?"

Jade nodded, twisting a long golden strand between her fingers. Heat was beginning to curl at your cheeks.

"And he's so much older," she laughed airily, lifting her glass to sip at her drink, "but I guess that life insurance money makes him all the more attractive, hey?"

"Oh definitely. He also got a huge penis which helps."

Jade choked loudly around her glass and the women around you burst into fits of high-pitched laughter.

"Don't mind her," Imani Taylor pulled you aside, "All the Botox has gone to her brain."

You smiled kindly at her.

"So a lawyer you said, what's that like?"

Across the room, Hotch was sitting through a similar game of verbal tennis.

A circus of who's car is newer, bigger, better, who's company makes more money or sells more stocks.

He doubted he'd ever been so bored. That's maybe why his eyes flickered so often to where you were talking animatedly with a short woman in a hijab.

A heavy hand against his shoulder sucked him back into the conversation.

A sandy-topped man who Hotch quickly identified as Elijah Schmidt was patting him boyishly, "Don't worry about the girl, Thompson."

He didn't love the idea of you being referred to as girl but said nothing on it.

Clearing his throat, he shook his head vaguely. "Got to keep on eye on them. She can barely feed herself most days, only knows how to spend my money and crash my cars."

The words were bitter, like hot bile on his tongue but he insisted on maintaining a mutual expression. Nobody promised that playing an asshole was going to be any fun.

A handful of the men grimaced at his comment, while the rest just tutted offhandedly.

While the men were far from the nicest he'd met, in the couple minutes he'd spent with them, Hotch was almost sure that his unsub was not among them.

Despite most of their more than patchy backgrounds - mostly corporate scuffles, dug up by Garcia - none of them spoke with the ease that the suspect needed to have, the charisma and the trustworthy character. Hotch's energy was better placed elsewhere.

"Barely feed herself?" A gravelly chuckle filled the space, "Sure doesn't look like it."

Hotch's eyes narrowed on the short bald man laughing to himself, glancing over to where you stood across the room - a fat cigar between his fingers.

He recognized him as the man who sat with the woman who'd commented when you spoke. Richard Atkins.

Turning his whole body to the man, towering over his structure, Hotch's face twisted - his stomach contents boiling hot at the comment.

"I beg your pardon?"

Pulling at the cigar, the end lighting up, the man shrugged. "Just saying, y'know, she doesn't look like she's skipped a meal anytime recently—"

The expression curling onto Hotch's face must've been cause for alarm, if not the way his fist tightened at his side, because almost immediately two other men stepped in.

One at Richard's side, "Hey, hey, Richard, that's enough man."

The other patting Hotch's shoulder, "Thompson ... he's had a couple drinks, just let him go."

Richard seemed to find the situation amusing because he was chortling still to himself. "Of course, of course. My bad, just locker-room talk you know. No harm, no foul."

Seething white anger was tugging on every muscle in his body, and he fought hard to maintain composure - taking a cautionary step towards Richard Atkins.

"I'd watch how you talk about my wife if I were you. Otherwise we're going to have a problem."

Atkins only huffed, turning back to his friend and his cigar. The conversations started up again around him, but Hotch had lost interest.

His wrist watch told him they'd been standing there for almost an hour.

Cleaning out the bottom of his glass, he set it down on the nearest table before excusing himself, offering handshakes and a couple shoulder pats before moving towards the women.

A handful of men followed him, clearly keen to leave as well.

He found you by the railing, laughing gently at something the woman across from you said.

Hotch's arm slid over your waist from behind, dipping his head closer to your ear: "ready to go?"

You nodded, offering a quick goodbye to the woman and some others.

The walk back to the room was quicker than he remembered, or maybe it was the light buzz of champagne against the side of his head and how you were humming something that sounded like Etta James that made it feel too fast.

On return, the prospect of unpacking awaited.

"Anyone interesting among the husbands?" You asked from across the room, lifting shirts and dresses to stack into the open cupboard.

Hotch shook his head, dislodging the secret compartment at the bottom of his suitcase where the case files had been hidden. "The unsub isn't one of them. They're all, for lack of a better word, assholes. Nobody trustworthy enough to follow to your death."

You chuckled lightly, "The women were alright. Except for this one woman, that one who whispered that rubbish when we introduced ourselves."

Hotch's stomach turned at the thought of the woman's words. Screwing the professor, really classy.

The implication on your character made his blood boil.

"Let me guess, Atkins?"

You nodded, "How'd you know?"

"Her husband's a real piece of work too. I'm gonna find something to arrest him for before the end of the week."

Your giggle permeated the space and it worked to ease the knot in Hotch's stomach.

"Don't be so dramatic, James." You draped a towel over your arm, "Mind if I grab the shower first?"

"Of course." Hotch nodded, desperately trying to fan out the image that was quickly rendering in his mind of you in the shower. "I'm gonna phone Garcia."

The bathroom door clicked behind you and you sighed into the emptiness of the room.

You took your time showering, enjoying how the hot water eased the tension over your shoulders, before drying off and slipping into the most appropriate pair of pajamas you'd brought along.

It took some convincing to let yourself pack the silk shorts and tank top, after all: you would be sharing a room with your boss.

Quickly after you'd walked back into the room, Hotch had slipped into the bathroom himself with a towel and pair of pajamas hanging over his arm.

Images of all the people you'd met that very evening sifted through your mind like a deck of cards, flipping through them and filtering the ones you knew couldn't be involved.

The spray of the shower was loud and your mind reached precariously for an image of what Hotch looked like under the fancy head in the shower that had more than enough space for two ... how the hot water was probably gliding over his long strong arms, down his chest and through the happy trail at the base of his stomach leading down towards—

The water shut off and silence echoed across the room.

You heard shuffling behind the door, wondered quietly what he could be doing, but pulled your eyes back to the case file.

The list of connections between the victims and current guests were numerous, too many to be significant as people in this wealth category generally moved in similar groups.

The door clicked open.

"Put that away, you should get some sleep."

"I—" You looked up to meet Hotch's eye and almost swallowed your tongue.

His hair was still wet, drooping over his forehead in a way you'd never seen before, and his blue t-shirt stuck to his chest with dampness. He wore plaid shorts that exposed those long legs that had been so criminally hidden beneath his usual suit pants.

He looked so ... domestic, and it set every nerve ending in your body alight.

"I ... yes, boss. Was just looking." You set the file on the bedside table.

He nodded at you, a warm look on his face. "Want you well rested for tomorrow."

There was a short silence and the look cleared from his features to be replaced by another.

Hotch's eyes flickered between the bed and the couch, and for the first time in more than a while, a look of unsureness occupied his face.

"I ... I think I'll take the couch."

Your heart sunk.

"Why?" The question chased its way out of your mouth before you could reach to snatch it.

"I don't wanna make you ... uncomfortable, considering I'm your superior."

"I mean, the bed is plenty big enough for the both of us, Hotch." You stammered, desperate to be close to him. "It's probably gonna be painful to sleep on that couch anyways."

He hesitated.

"U-Unless you think it's weird, you can sleep on the couch it's fine." You wished you could sink into the sheets and disappear.

But to your surprise, Hotch nodded.

The bed sunk on his side as he lifted the covers, as close to the edge as he could from what you could see.

His head hit the pillow before he leaned over to flick off the light, you took it as a sign to do the same.

There was quiet for a long moment.

The door to the balcony was open, it was just too hot to close it, and the breeze curled over the sheets, wafting the smell of Hotch's shower gel into your face.

It took all you had within you not to sigh loudly and dig your face into his neck.

You thought the conversation had closed for the evening, but Hotch surprised you when his voice emerged from the darkness.

"You did well today. I know you were nervous."

A smile tugged at your lips. He could read you better than you thought he could.

"You've got a lot more practice at the husband thing than I do at the wife thing."

You could almost see the outline of his face against the light of the moon.

"Well, I hope this wife ends up better than the last one."

The memory of finding Hotch's ex-wife's body came starkly into view.

"O-Oh, Hotch." Your hand came to your face in embarrassment, "I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have—"

"Hey, hey," he stopped you, "it's my fault. It was a bad joke, I shouldn't have made it."

You couldn't help the small giggle that escaped you, "I've never heard you freestyle a joke before, Hotch."

"Wasn't good?"

"It was terrible." You managed around the now growing laugh.

"And yet you're still laughing. Isn't that the goal?"

You shuffled over in the sheets to face him, even though you couldn't see much - the thought that he lingered there in the darkness comforted you.

"Not at that really bad attempt at a joke, I'm laughing at you."

Maybe it was your imagination, but you swore when the light from the lighthouse flickered quickly over Hotch's face that he was grinning.

"I'm glad I amuse you."

"Come on Hotch, you're telling me you don't have a single good dad joke?"

He was quiet a long moment, and for a second you thought you'd pressed too hard.

"Why do you never see elephants hiding in trees?"

Absolutely surprised by the question, you shook your head in the darkness. "Why?"

"Because they're really good at it."

The light from the lighthouse hadn't passed over his face again but now you were sure he was smiling and every muscle in your body twitched to grab his face in the darkness and kiss him until he was oxygen depleted.

"That's the worst joke I've ever heard, Aaron." But you shook with small laughter.

"Worse than the dead wife joke?"

"Okay, maybe not that bad."

Quiet fell again.

"You should go to sleep. We've got a long day tomorrow."

Fishing for the sheets, you lifted to tuck them under your chin. "Goodnight James."

"Goodnight."

Tags:

@montyfandomlove @aurorastuffsstuff @cdizzleswzzlebonzy @pureblood-blake @kad00x @lena-1895 @marimorena06 @farrah-444

#Aaron Hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds #fake dating #criminal minds fanfiction #Spencer Reid #emily prentiss #David Rossi #Derek Morgan #penelope garcia #only one bed #mutual pining

1K notes · View notes

whileyoureinschoolidothisallday · 3 months

Text

lrt the key thing to remember about covid is that it isn't magic. It has to get in you first before it can infect you, and you have to have a certain amount of viral load before it can take over (it doesn't take much anymore, but it still has to reach that threshold).

The key to being able to do fun, indoor things is to find an n95 or higher respirator, test to make sure it fits you without leakage, and then do not take off your mask. ever.

This is where it gets people. I hear tons of stories from people who caught Covid even though they masked, and it almost always turns out they took it off for one reason or another.

"Hungry or thirsty?" Eat and hydrate beforehand or plan to stay until you get hungry. If you have a medical condition where you have to eat or take meds while you're out, find a place outside and bring multiple masks so you can put on a fresh one when you're done. For thirst, they actually make something for this. Do not take off the mask.

"What if we wanna take a selfie?" Take them beforehand or keep the masks on. Do not take off the mask.

"What about air breaks?" No air breaks. If you can't tolerate being in a mask for long periods, you cannot safely go to long events. Do not take off the mask.

Respirators have a seal. When you break the seal by taking it off, they do not work as effectively. The seal can also break after a certain amount of use, which changes depending on how many other people are masking around you. I used to have a diagram showing how long each masks last in different situations, but I sadly cannot find it so I won't say a specific time since I can't confirm it, but this is essentially why if I'm going to attempt something riskier, I wear a p100 because those are good for 8hrs before you have to change the filter, and anything that I go to indoors won't be more than 3hrs (simply because I'm old and I ain't staying out longer than that lol)

I really appreciate that op made a psa, because the point of that post I think a lot of people are missing is that we need to be in full pandemic mode specifically because of the wave. But the problem with writing Covid things in a sensational kind of way is that it makes mitigation seem like an impossible task that requires monk like sacrifice, and that makes people immediately shut down. It's not, even in a huge wave like this. Will you have to change your routine and behaviors, and some of those changes might be inconvenient? Absolutely. But they will never be impossible. It's important to remember that adaptation isn't sacrifice. You're not "giving up" anything. You're still gonna be able to have your social needs met, you'll just be doing it in a different way for awhile.

If you want to hang out with a small group of friends at their/your house, and it's too cold to be outside or you just don't want to, the safest way to do it is universal masking, full vaccinations, testing multiple times beforehand, and using at least one air purifier that filters up to 0.1-0.5 µm in the room you'll be gathering in. This can be done diy with a Corsi-Rosenthal box if you need something cheaper! Air filters suck in viruses faster than people can breathe them in, so the risk of getting covid would be incredibly low in this situation (but never zero). If you want to share a meal, know that taking off the masks will increase the risk, but at least let the purifer run at the highest setting tolerable for an hour before doing so

If you can't afford to stop reusing your N95s, I recommend either locating a mask bloc near you and ask for some mask donations, or buy an elastomeric n95 like this one. There are many to choose from and while they are more expensive, they're reusable, with the filter only needing to be changed after 8 hours (or sooner if in a big crowd)

Some people are currently inventing portable air-purifiers you can pair with masks, and you can 3-D print them!

You're at work/the dentist/some other situation where you absolutely can't go outside in a non-crowded space, and you need to take down your mask? Nasal sprays like this one can be a good extra layer of protection for these situations. You can always, like with most viruses, rinse out your nose after being in public and rinse your mouth with CPC mouthwash for even more extra layers of protection.

One of the frustrations I have with the current Covid advocacy is that it's still largely focused on near-total abstinence, which has never been and never will be an effective education tool. I prefer taking a cue from AIDS advocacy and focus on education and providing resources. Of course, staying home is the only way to stay 100% safe, and you should choose contactless options whenever you can as long as the pandemic is still going. But isolation is becoming less and less realistic for most people and I want to still show them that you can stay safe even if you can't stay home.

Covid is not an impossible task. It's not magic. You do not need to catch that wave. These are imperative facts we as a collective have to internalize if we want out of this pandemic. You are not helpless. We've had airborne viruses for years and years, and we've known how to protect ourselves from them as well. We've known how to protect from Covid, specifically, for years. The only reason it's gotten this bad and is still a pandemic is because our governments benefit more from the masses being sick and needing resources, full stop. Like climate change, we have the tools to beat this virus back at any point. Because of this, even in this huge wave, there is no reason you have to only exist online. There are ways you can see your friends safely.

All people like OP are saying is that, at least until this wave improves, you should do that without going to the bars, clubs, restaurants, concert venues, etc. Because it's not only extremely unsafe for you, but it's putting other people in danger too.

#danger days: truffula flu simulator #truffula flu survival guide #covid #covid advocacy #covid-19 #covid-19 resources #covid safe

242 notes · View notes

sashi-ya · 6 months

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 14: BONDAGE Trafalgar Law 𝘹 F! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: @valval08 ➡ Hi @sashi-ya YESSSSSS IM AO EXCITED TO KINK-TOBER!!!! If it is not already taken. Can I please request Law x Female Reader with print number 14 leather straps / bondage. Can the reader be a brat and trying to distract Law from his work as a challenge. So she will send subtle messages. Cause we all know that man needs a break lols 😂 tw: mdni. can be considered part 2 of day 12 . tied with his belts to a chair. fingered while he has a video call. spanks. oral sex. rough sex. name calling. wc: ~2k 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

That night, when the car turned into your love nest, ended with both of you absolutely tired. A lot more than before.

However, work should be done the next day. So, Law, woke up and turned on the computer. At the moment, he was taking some time off from hospital, so he only arranged videocalls to chat with patients and be able to do a follow-up on their states after cardiac surgery.

You wake up, with your body a little sore. It was easier when younger, even if you are sure Law would have left you in the same state either way.

From his room you hear him chatting with someone, and soon remember it must be one of his patients. Yet, the little giggles of such patient were making you a total mess. You get it, Law is absolutely handsome. His dark aura, how intelligent and amazing surgeon that he is, the sound of his low voice, his silver eyes and those tattoos that antagonize with the stereotypical look of a respected doctor… he is by far different. He is more than attractive…

Would it be bad to pass walking right behind him? To show the giggling patient that indeed a man that hot is already taken?

By the time you ponder how mad he could get, you are already walking by covered in his white sheets, wearing just satin shorts underneath. You act surprised when you see the camera, so do a little jump, cover your mouth with your hand, and run away -not before looking at the camera for the stupid patient to see your “do not come any closer to my man or you will perish” look.

Law opens his eyes wide, and his cheeks turn bright red. His caramel skin does very little to cover his embarrassment. And you are trying not to laugh, as you sit down in the kitchen to look at him while he -tries to- keeps working.

The sheets that were covering are now thrown over the couch, and your bare chest flashes on the corner of his eye.

You calmly open a bottle of water -it was needed- and drink calmly as you listen him ask, now a little out of himself, medical question to his patients.

In between patient and patient, who Law seems to asses quick enough to get rid of them all in less than an hour, he scolds you.

“(Name)-ya?! It wasn’t necessary! Why- why are you half naked?” he asks, as if he wasn’t hard already from the “accident” you just had with the bottle of water and the drops of cold one drizzled on your breasts.

“I didn’t know- you could have woke me up. I was thirsty, I wanted water and I could only find out at the kitchen… I’m sorry ~” you purr a fake excuse, while trying to dry the drops on your skin playing so nonchalantly with your nipples.

“I can’t fuck you right now, I still have two patients left” he grunts, crossing his long legs. It’s obvious he is dying to penetrate you right there and now.

“I wasn’t asking for it, please finish your work… I will just eat a banana for breakfast and then get into the shower. Go on...” you smirk, peeling one of the fruits over the kitchen table.

Law closes his eyes, and his dark circles intensify. His “painful” expression can be interpretated as, one; he is worried for the integrity of his dick, or two; he is hating that last patient before he could be free to fuck you rough, or ultimate the number three: option one and two together.

As he sits back down in front of his laptop and waits for the next video conference, you begin eating the banana… well, eating it’s just a bad way to explain what you were doing to that poor potassium fountain… As if he was his dick, you tempt him while enjoying your sweet breakfast.

You can see his leg anxiously bouncing under the desk, and his hand trying to stop you with desperate shaking. You, however, won’t stop. If you can turn him on to the point of not be able to do anything else but fuck you, you will. No matter what.

And by the moment he finally bids goodbye to that poor old man, whose heart has been patched up by Law several times, he closes the laptop in violent motion.

Law stands up, an aura of invisible fire surrounds him. He is mad, and horny and tired but needy.

“You little shit, come here” he grunts, grabbing you by the hand and pulling for you to stand up.

You laugh and choke with the last piece of banana, but immediately stop even breathing. Law gets his lips closer to yours, almost grazing them. And pulls you towards him, mercilessly.

“You brat, If you are that eager to choke, don’t do it now… choke with my dick instead when I’m done” he growls, softly slapping one of your breasts and then sitting you back down.

You widen your eyes. Law can be rougher; it’s just about pushing the right buttons… And while you expect for him to lower his pants down, he simply orders you to wait sitting there. You fidget your fingers, what is he doing?

A couple of minutes pass and then you see him coming from his bedroom with various belts in his hands and perverse smirk.

“Uh… Law? What are those for?” you ask, worried -not really-

“You can’t keep yourself still, therefore I need to tie you down until I’m done with my last patient” he calmly informs you, while expertly joining to belts to make a longer one.

You smile, excited. But are you sure this is gonna be a soft bondage attempt?

“Turn around, kneel on the chair” he commands, pulling from your hair to “help” you.

You gasp, you are in awe… this is a first time, even for you.

Law proceeds to lower your silky satin shorts down, enough to uncover your core. The shorts get stuck at your knees’ height, and he seems pleased with it.

“Spread your legs, now” he commands, carving his nails in the inner side of your thigs.

You do, thinking of the bruises that will appear on the sides of your legs as the arm rests engrave in your skin.

Your feet hang down, and your ankles quickly feel the cold surface of his leather belts securing them to the chair’s arm rests support.

Law then surround the chair to watch your both confused and amazed façade.

“Your hands. Pass them in between the open spaces of the splat” he orders, pulling from them to tie your wrists together with the belt.

You allow him to move and position as he pleases, as his personal doll. However, you are still confused by the fact there is yet another patient he needs to attend. Did that person cancelled the videocall? Or what is he planning to do?

“Law… wha- what about your last patient?” you ask, but he definitely stays quiet. And suddenly you sense him pulling from the chair until you are left right next to his desk.

“I told you that I had to keep you still somehow, and this, I think, is the best way. If you dare to make any sound while I’m on the videocall, I will leave you there for the rest of the day without fucking you” he informs you. Law isn’t playing, and you wonder if he has always been that kind of sadist. In any case, you are excited to see what’s next -and how to stay silent all throughout the videocall-

You nod and wait.

He sits down, moves the laptop to the side so that the camera won’t be facing you in any way, and proceeds to wait for his patient. He seems to ignore you, until his arm stretches, and his index begins to play with the wetness of your labia. Now you understand why you should keep yourself quiet.

Law seems to be unbothered while he finally starts the consultation with his patient. It is a woman, who seems to be also flirting with him. Your toes curl and imagine in pure jealousy how she might be fluttering her eyelashes to him… however, as if nothing happened, in angle that couldn’t be seen in the web cam, the one being fingered by Law was no other woman but you.

You bite your lip, trying not to moan. Your eyes shut close, praying for the outside noise cancelling microphone would cover your low whimpers when he uses the perfect beckoning motions on you.

All of a sudden, Law laughs with his patient and takes his fingers out of you. You are dying to moan louder, to mark some territory. But you remember his words… staying there all day and above all not getting fucked is enough punishment not to disobey him.

As he has stopped touching you, you keep dripping unstoppable strings of pleasure. Imagery that Law checks in quick side looks towards you. He is probably wanting to end with the meeting as soon as possible… but maybe not. Maybe leaving you needy, as you did with him, sounds better.

Your breasts are squeezed against the backrest of the chair, and with subtle up and down motions you try to reach for some pleasure by grazing them with it. But nothing seems to be enough… you really want Law’s dick inside one of your holes.

When you finally listen to the words “You are doing great, Miss Hancock. I will need you to come to my office next month. Send my salutes to your husband, Luffy” you smirk… now, the moment he closes his laptop, he will be all yours…

Or rather you, will be all his.

“Look at the mess you made, (Name)-ya…” he grunts, giving you a spank on your ass.

You flinch but moan out of pleasure. It felt unexpectedly hot to be slapped so suddenly.

“Will you fuck me now, Law ~? I kept it quiet and still…” you purr, proud of your submissive behaviour.

Law scoffs, standing right in front of you. His pants fall to the ground, and his hard dick flashes its erection close to your lips.

“Not yet, I promise you to choke first. You were hungry, weren’t you?” he smirks, grabbing you by the hair to guide your mouth to his throbbing tip.

You gag, choking as he said with his sex reaching your throat. He is punishing you with deep thrusts, using your mouth until he is satisfied with the tears running from the corner of your eyes to your cheeks.

You fight against your muscles turning weak, and you keep taking his hardness in your mouth like his good girl. Proud surgeon, he felt, to see you looking up at him while getting “orally” abused.

Satisfied with your noises and strings of saliva sprouting from the commissures of your lips, he finally lets you breath and positions at your back.

“Now, (Name)-ya… you deserve to be fucked” he moans in your ear, after bending over your back while grazing your entrance with his saliva coated dick.

“F… fuck me, please… Law… my knees…” you plead, with your knees already in pain from holding your weight, but eager to get penetrated by his extra horny self.

He carves his fingers on your left ass cheek, pulling up and to the side to spread you enough for him to go deep. He guides his sex with his free hand, and his goatee graces your nape. “Get ready to be wrecked. You played too much with me, and I’m specially hard in the mornings”

You tremble, his voice right in your ear… his scent, the weight of his body on yours, how open you are, the tip slipping inside…

“Fuck, Law!!” you whine louder than ever, and now that he is inside you his hand lands on your mouth. Slipping his thumb on your mouth as he starts to pound, violently, hard, mercilessly…

“Be a good girl and take it well… I hope this is what you were looking for…” “I… it… is even better, Law ~”

taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @shuzuiikoii @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic @fushiguroshotwife 💖🙆‍♀��

352 notes · View notes

whirlwindimagines · 1 year

Note

First time requesting so I hope I don't make this super confusing but I couldn't help it because I love your writing ♥️.

I was thinking that the reader is a printer (prints the newspapers on the press, designs and prints wanted posters, etc.) Reader is a good friend of Meryl and Roberto because of the newspaper business, so when the group comes into the print shop to look for some information on someone/some place the reader recognizes vash from the wanted posters. Because of that the group thinks reader is gonna turn vash into the police but the reader just says that vash looks cuter than the wanted poster xD

Reader probably offers to stop printing his wanted poster.

Just an idea I had and (totally not because I personally work at a print shop cough cough) wanted to share!

Thank you! Hey nothing wrong for asking for something self-indulgent! And that seems like a cool job! This is a shorter one, but I hope you enjoy it! (lol its still over 600 words)

'Wanted'

Vash x Reader

You dropped the stack of papers on the table with a sigh, God is it time for your break yet or not? With a sigh you sort through the papers, your mind going blank at the actions. You don't know how many wanted posters you can look at anymore, how could this many people even be wanted?

With a groan you rub at your eyes, maybe you should just take that break now. Hands messaging temples, you start to sneak out to the back room. Passing towers of paper, and your co-workers rushing around you are stopped before reaching your destination.

“Y/n there’s someone here to see you, Meryl it was?” Your whole demeanor brightens, you haven’t seen Meryl in forever! Thanking your co-worker, you quickly head to the front lobby, the thought of a break far from your mind. You haven’t seen the reporter for a while now after she got sent on some big assignment as she put it.

Hoping everything was okay with Meryl, you spot her standing in the lobby. She called your name, giving a big wave as she did. Joining her side, Meryl quickly pulls you into a hug which you gladly returned. “It’s been a while how are you?” You ask pulling back, she lets out a laugh. “Busy it’s been a little hectic.” You’re not what sure she means; you notice Meryl looking around a little nervously.

You are about to question her, but she speaks before you can. “Can we talk outside? As excited as I am to see you again, we’re actually looking for some information. And I thought you’d might be able to help us.” You let out a ‘hum’ guess you were taking that break. “Sure! Just give me a moment.”

Once you have everything settled away, you let Meryl lead you outside and around the corner. The two of you chat idly, whatever she actually wants to talk about must be important, but you’re always willing to provide an inside scoop for a friend. Rounding the corner you spot Roberto, who looks as tired as always, you’re sure Meryl is keeping him on his toes.

Beside him is another man, and oh hello tall, blonde, and handsome. You narrow your eyes something looks so familiar about him, but you can’t put your finger on it. Meryl drags you over to the two men, and you greet Roberto with a bright smile which he returns with a gruff 'hello' and a pat on your shoulder.

The man in the red coat greets you with a bright smile, and it’s very nice. He doesn’t give you his name, which you find very suspicious but you still can’t figure out why. Meryl starts talking, explaining what they’re looking for and that any information will be appreciated.

You are listening you really are, but you can’t help but sneak some glances at the blonde. It hits you then, “oh!” You say snapping your fingers and pointing at the blonde, “Your Vash the Stampede!” Your statement shocked everyone into silence, you laughed at their wide eye looks. “Man, I can’t tell you how many wanted posters we print of you.” You are surprised you didn’t recognize him sooner!

Vash looks at you with wide eyes, but smiles “nice to meet you!” He says this with a laugh, Meryl grabs your arm forcing you to look at her, “you’re not going to say anything right?” She looks up at you with wide eyes as you shake your head.

“Of course not, if he’s with you guys then there must be a reason, I trust you.” You answer honestly, and everyone lets out a sigh of relief. You smirk your gaze meeting Vash’s “And besides your much cuter in person.” You tease, watching his entire face go red. Meryl groans beside you releasing your arm in the process, while Roberto mutters something about getting a drink.

You continue your talk with the three, continuing to sneak some glances at Vash, who seemed to be doing the same to you. He really was cuter in person; you certainly wouldn’t mind getting to know the Humanoid Typhoon.

You are happy that you were able to provide at least some information for the group, before parting ways you turn to Vash "If you want I can mess up the printing machine a bit, make it so they aren't printing so many of your wanted posters." and you mean, Vash rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "Man I would really appreciate it!"

You smirk then, "Of course, but could you sign one of them for me? I mean I have to keep one of the posters now after meeting you in person." you give him a wink, watching with glee as his entire face goes red and he turns into a stuttering mess. It really is endearing, and he does promise to sign one for you! So you figure its a win.

#vash the stampede x reader #vash imgaine #vash imagines #vash x reader #vash the stampede #trigun stampede #trigun #trigun stampede imagine #trigun stampede x reader #trigun x reader

375 notes · View notes

rightshoeonleftfoot · 1 month

Text

How the flowers bloom

Pairing: Marius "Jäger" Streicher x GN!reader

Summary: This is part 1 of my smitten!Jäger x oblivious!reader. Reader has a mental breakdown and Jäger helps you feel better.

Warning: Slight warning, reader has a big breakdown questioning their life. Apart from that it's all fluff. This series is a slow burn (somewhat lol).

Words: 2.3k

Part 1 - Part 2

This not proofread! Criticism is welcome and encouraged. I also do take requests for this fic :)

Today feels dull. Work takes longer than usual, your coworkers' voices grate your nerves more than usual. You have less patience for the customers yelling at you, less tolerance when your boss yells at you for the nth time to do something you haven't had the time for yet. After all, she gave you a never ending list of tasks to do, from mundane to tedious. You were getting to it.

Now, your boss asks you to be at the cash register, whilst also berating you for not going through the to-do list she gave you fast enough. The vase is filling up, one drop at a time. Now, you’re standing at the cash register trying to keep it together. It's excruciating, smiling at the customers like the stress of your job isn't starting to weigh on you.

Your vision starts to get blurry as you speak to the customer. It's been five years and you're still just an assistant in the bakery. You wanted to start your own business. Now here you are, acting as some sous-chef for an ungrateful baker, not a step closer to having your own bakery. What am I doing with my life? The thought rings loudly in your head, as a drop of water falls on the receipt you were gonna hand the woman.

You look down at it for a second, as more droplets fall on the receipt. The vase has overflown, and you're crying. The realization hits you as you wipe the tears off your cheeks and smile at the woman awkwardly.

"I'm so sorry." You chuckle in hopes of making the awkwardness of the situation go away. The lady surprisingly doesn't seem to take it badly. Instead, she looks almost.. concerned. "It's okay love. Everyone needs time off every once in a while." Her british accent is thick, yet it really seems like she cares. You nod in agreement and print out another receipt for her before handing it to her and heading to the break room.

You swallow the lump in your throat, mentally preparing to talk to your boss. You've decided, you're going home. You finally spot your boss, and she stares you down. Her gaze is piercing, like she's reading your every move.

"What the fuck are you doing back here? You're supposed to be out front." Her arms are crossed over her chest. An uncomfortable silence settles as you get the courage to speak up. "I'm heading home. I'm taking time off for the rest of the day." Your boss's face hardens, though she notices your teary eyes and she sighs. "Fine, take the rest of the day off. I don't need you today anyway." She doesn't seem genuine as she storms out of the break room, going to take care of the customers waiting for their order.

You pack your stuff up, almost relieved to be going home. Though the stress of losing your job seems to hit you as you put on your shoes to leave. It's a good paying job after all, right? The only downside is it's not exactly what you want to do for the rest of your life, but it's better than nothing you suppose. You sigh as you step out of the break room, the tears won't stop flowing. It's a never ending stream as you sniffle quietly, trying to bring the least amount of attention to yourself.

You glance at the line as you leave the bakery. It's the lunch rush, the line goes out the door. As you go to open the door to leave, you make eye contact with a customer. A smile appears on the man's face. You know him. He excuses himself from the front of the line and walks quickly towards you, before trapping you in a tight hug.

"Marius, wha- why are you here?" Your tone is laced with laughter as his hug lengthens. He doesn't answer for a few seconds, choosing to hold you in his arms a bit longer. He finally pulls back, putting his hands on each side of your arms. He's ecstatic to see you and it shows. "My op ended early, things got done a lot quicker than we expected." His smile falters a little when he sees your puffy eyes and red cheeks.

"Herzblatt, what happened? Are you crying?" The worry in his tone is obvious. He leans forward, as though to get a better look at your face to make sure you aren't injured. He backs off quickly, his cheeks now tinted red. What was he even trying to do? Confusion takes over as you're not quite sure why he reacted like that. He quickly reaches for a tissue in his pocket to hand you. "I'm okay Marius." You try to reassure him, chuckling to ease some of his worry.

He completely disregards your comment about being okay. "Did someone hurt you?" Instead of handing you the tissue, he goes to wipe off the tears off your cheeks himself. However, he stops himself and awkwardly looks away before handing you the tissue. You take the tissue from his hand, wiping your tears away. "Thanks." You take a deep breath. "No one did this, I'm just.. stressed." You feel a bit bad, complaining about your stressful job to a man who defends people's lives for a living.

"You were heading home, right? Why don't I make you dinner?" Marius proposes confidently. He seems almost too excited to be at your house again. He's fiddling with his belt loop on his pants, you notice he looks almost.. nervous. Granted, he's been like that around you for a bit, you just kind of assume it's how he is. "I couldn't ask that of you, I'd feel bad taking up your time like that." You really just feel like you're taking up space. Not that you don't want to spend time with him, you just don't want to feel like you're bothering him.

His confidence falters ever so slightly. He feels a bit rejected, almost like you're making an excuse to let him down easy. "Well, I don't have anything else to do and uhm, I missed you so..." He looks away awkwardly for a second, before looking back at you and smiling confidently once again. His cheeks seem a bit more flushed than usual. "Okay, yeah, if you're really okay with it, it'd be really nice." You feel like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. It's nice to have a friend who cares.

"I missed you too, by the way. Let's go." You sniffle as you wipe the last of your tears. His heart flutters at your words. Marius puts his hand out for you to take, but you don't notice as you've already started to walk. He quickly follows you, walking side by side with you.

The walk back to your house is... animated to say the least. Marius has a lot of energy, and a lot to talk about. The entire time you have your hands tucked away in your pockets, to Marius' great disappointment. He's talking your ear off about stuff he's recently watched and read, and he never seems to run out of talking material. His laugh is contagious, and you find yourself forgetting about all the stressful things that happened today.

You finally get back to your house and open the door for him. You take off your shoes and lock the door behind you both. He takes off his shoes and heads to the kitchen, going over to your fridge and opening it with you hot on his trail. You sneak behind him, peeking above his shoulder to see what he's looking at. "What do you want me to make for you, Schatzi?" His tone wavers a bit due to your proximity. He starts to pick stuff up from the fridge and puts it back in an effort to distract himself from you.

"Pasta would be nice." You mumbled, your hand coming to rest on his side to stabilize yourself as you look at what you have in your fridge with him. He freezes, the thoughts in his brain becoming a bit scrambled. "I uhm, I suppose I could." His tone was a bit hesitant as he looked back at you, not realizing just how close you were to him. He looked away immediately, taking a few things out of the fridge and walking away from you and towards the counter.

Marius gets to work. He seems to know what to make with what you have. He's expertly navigating your kitchen, he knows exactly where everything is. You get out of his way, resorting to watching him cook. You're leaning on the counter, looking at his every move, not saying a word. Then, he drops a glass and freezes. He's never done that before. Especially not around you.

"Scheiße." He mumbles under his breath. He's avoiding your gaze, he seems embarrassed. "It's okay, I got it." You stand up straight and head over to the mess he made to clean it up. His palms are sweaty as he tries to help you clean the mess, though he seems to keep dropping everything. You clean up the raw egg that fell on the floor, but accidentally cut yourself on the glass. "Tsk, shit." Marius immediately grabs your hand to look at the cut. He inspects your cut and helps you up.

"Let's get this cleaned up, Liebling." He leads you to the washroom but you stop him. You never understand the names he gives you, you never bother to ask since they seem innocent enough. "I'm okay, Marius. I just need to rinse it." You smile reassuringly at him, and he seems to relax, his grip on your hand loosening. He doubles down regardless. "No, I don't want any glass in your cut." He pulls you towards him and into the washroom.

He drags you over to the sink, and cleans your wound for you. His hands are sweaty and you can feel it. He's nervous, but it's nothing out of the ordinary so you don't question it. You lean towards him to see what he was doing better. He's cleaning it up, putting your hand under warm water, rinsing your cut to make sure there's no glass. He puts some polysporin on it and covers it with a bandaid, making sure it's nice and snug. He finally looks up to see you. "There, it's all-" He stops talking abruptly as his eyes meet yours.

You're confused as to why he stopped talking. His face is very close to yours, but it's not bothering you, you're usually this close to him. He clears his throat and looks away. "Uhm, yeah, it's cleaned and you're good to go." He smiles awkwardly, and leaves to go back to the kitchen to finish making you food. You can't deny his help is making all your stress vanish.

You walk back into the kitchen, and smile when you notice he cleaned up the glass. "Marius." You call out to him as he turns on the stove to make the sauce. "Ja?" He doesn't turn to look at you. "Thank you for helping me with all of this." You sit at the counter realizing he'd put his sleeves up to his elbows now. "Any time, do you wanna talk about what's bothering you?" You contemplate it for a second before speaking. "I don't like my work." Marius is stunned for a second as he looks at you.

"I thought you loved baking?" He checked the sauce before leaning over the counter to pay more attention to you. "Well, yeah. I just-" You sigh, trying to find your words. "I want to have my own bakery, you know? I'm tired of being some- some sous chef to my boss." You clench your fists. "She treats me like shit, Marius. I've been there for five years and she's not any closer to letting me have a little bit of freedom when it comes to designing the menu."

Marius seems to think for a second. "Why don't you take out a loan? I'll help you find a good spot for your bakery, I can help with the renovation. You'll make that money back quickly." His positive nature is contagious. "You think I could do it?" You don't want to get into debt, it's worrying. "You have the experience and the passion. Besides, I can be your taste tester, ja?" He smiles, trying to lighten the mood. "But for now, focus on getting food and relaxing, Schatzi. I can set something up on the TV for us."

You nod, feeling relieved to have someone there for you. He focuses back on making you a good meal, occasionally spilling some things and bumping into dining chairs and counters as he navigates the kitchen. After a few minutes, he plates the food and presents it to you. Pomodoro pasta, and it looks mouthwatering. "Living room?" He asks as he holds both bowls in his hands, looking at you eagerly.

"Yeah." You hurry to your living room, sitting on the couch, and he puts the pasta bowls on the coffee table. Before you can grab the remote to turn on the TV, he snags it from you. He sits on the couch next to you and sets up a documentary on quantum computers. You lean back on the couch, leaning into him since he's so warm. He freezes but doesn't move. As you both watch and eat, you're hit with a strange sense of calmness.

You focus on the documentary, and though you don't understand everything, you don't mind. He loves explaining it to you anyway. You, however, never notice all the looks he gives you to make absolutely sure you like what you're watching. After all, he'd give you the world if you'd only just accept it.

40 notes · View notes

flurrys-creativity · 9 months

Text

Bouncy

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong (Ateez) x Fem!Reader; Genre: Established Relationship AU, Romance, SMUT; Rating: nsfw, 18+, MDNI; Warnings: jealousy, Hongjoong’s outfit that shows off his dick print, small argument, smut, unprotected sex, riding, hints of dom/sub tendencies, usage of petnames (baby), hint of orgasm denial, begging, slight biting, teasing; Wordcount: 1.746

Summary: You stayed backstage while the boys performed on stage, watching them through the live stream. Though seeing your boyfriend like this and reading all the comments about him, you became quite jealous. To get rid of your jealousy Hongjoong had to get creative with you.

A/N: There is this performance that sparked this whole thing. It’s this video right here, officer. I will go and wash my eyes and hands and brain with holy water now. But also this is only one fictional outcome from that video. Check out @sanjoongie 's "Bouncy" too to read a second outcome.

You sat on the couch of the changing room in the farthest corner and stared intently on the tablet the staff lent you. Despite a few remaining staff, who prepared to leave for their short break as well, you were alone within the room.

You could hear the screams from the studio, indicating it wouldn’t be long before Ateez had their performance. You shortly looked up, seeing the last staff members leaving. Now you were truly alone and could concentrate on the performance with all your senses.

The screen on the tablet changed, showing an edit of their music video. All of them worked so hard for that video. They absolutely deserved every praise for it. The screen changed again and showed the boys on the studio stage, staring intently into the camera.

You knew this alone was enough to make lots of Atiny swoon. The second the performance started the screams increased in volume and the live chat next to the video exploded.

Your eyes flicked between the video and the comments from the fans, smiling proudly at how many voiced their love for this comeback.

That smile vanished a few minutes into the performance. Your eyes widened in shock and you had to blink several times, hoping your mind just deceived you. Though the second your attention fell on the chat, you knew it wasn’t.

Hongjoong’s pants showed absolutely everything whenever he thrusted his hips or leaned back with his upper body.

Dozens of comments flooded the chatroom, incoherent key smashes and emoticons showcasing the state of Atiny’s minds. Once the first shock calmed down again other comments filled the chat.

“He really wanted to show us how!”

“The way I’d drop to my knees, keke.”

“I wanna suck him off real good!!!!”

“My thoughts are so impure right now… lol.”

You desperately wanted to agree with the comments but instead your inner green monster of jealousy roared its ugly head, consuming your thoughts whole. You should be the only one thinking about his dick. Be the only one to see it - even just the imprint. At least you were the only one able to touch, feel and taste it but with the comments turning more and more explicit that fact felt like it wasn’t enough anymore.

You barely registered the rest of the performance. The only thing on your mind were the continuous comments about your boyfriend’s dick as well as every damn shot that showed the imprint.

A deep frown and prominent pout settled on your face.

“If you wanna know how, I can show you right now.” Hongjoong’s voice rang through your ears, followed by the ecstatic screams of Atiny. The screams got momentarily louder when the door of the changing room opened.

You looked up, seeing Wooyoung and San teasing each other as they walked into the room. Right behind them Yeosang, Jongho, Yunho and Mingi came into sight. Your expression smoothed down and a soft smile appeared on your lips as you waved to them.

“Y/N! What do you think? Our first performance! The atmosphere was crazy!” Wooyoung yelled as he rushed over to you, basically dropping his sweaty self on your lap.

“You were awesome.” You smiled and patted his head.

Yunho joined your side and looked down at your form with a smirk. “What did you think of hyung’s little surprise?”

You immediately narrowed your eyes and glared up at Yunho, pursing your lips into a thin line. “He knew?”

Before Yunho could answer your question, Seonghwa and finally Hongjoong arrived inside the changing room. Your attention snapped towards him, the glare and pout once again prominent on your face.

Hongjoong raised his eyebrows once he noticed your expression. Concern lingered in his eyes as he walked over to you, pulling Wooyoung somewhat from your lap and sitting down close to you. “What’s wrong, love?”

You only frowned even more and crossed your arms in front of your chest. Even though part of your mind told you that your behaviour resembled an upset toddler, you just couldn’t help yourself.

“Did something happen while I was gone?” Hongjoong tried prying your arms away from your body but as soon as he realised you wouldn’t budge he settled with rubbing over your thigh. He tried everything to coax you to speak with him. Hongjoong noticed how you pointedly glanced down every now and then but he couldn’t make the message out of that. “Please use your words, love, what’s wrong?”

“Everyone is talking about your dick”, you blurted out with a scoff. You heard some suppressed snorts from the other members but your attention solely stayed with Hongjoong.

He giggled softly and scratched the back of his ear, which slowly turned red. “So you noticed.”

“Like thousands of others!” By now you felt like fuming, the jealousy turning into unfounded anger.

“You know I’m a jealous man. I need to pull such a stunt every now and then to keep Atiny’s attention on us. Not on our background dancers or even other groups.”

“Attention on you or your dick?”

“Hey, we’re going to get some snacks!” Seonghwa called out and ushered everyone but you two out of the changing room. With one last look full of concern he closed the door behind himself.

“I should be the only one to think of your dick and what I want to do with it.”

A small smirk played over Hongjoong’s lips but he quickly schooled his expression again. “Oh love”, he murmured and rubbed his hands over your upper arms now, “you’re the only one supposed to get drunk on my cock every time I’m near. All those fans will forget about it in a few days but you, you won’t ever forget about my cock so deep inside of you, giving you all the pleasure you need.”

You swallowed audibly, feeling how your resolve slowly faded away. “I still want you to use other methods to keep Atiny focused on you guys”, you mumbled and avoided looking at your boyfriend.

Hongjoong’s hands glided down your sides - only stopping right above the rim of your pants. He pressed his thumbs into you, slightly showing his possessive nature. “Let me show you what no other Atiny will ever experience.”

With that Hongjoong pulled you on his lap, pressing you down on his hard on, while he stared at your face intently.

Your eyes widened in surprise and a gasp left your lips. You grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling your heart pound like crazy within your chest. You could feel how your anger and jealousy disappeared and got replaced with lust. As if your hips had a mind on their own you started grinding down on Hongjoong’s crotch, whimpering upon the little friction you received.

“Is my baby that eager?” Hongjoong teased you as he tapped your hips, quietly ordering you to get up again.

Reluctantly and only with a lot of whining did you follow his order. You stood now in front of him, waiting for his next command.

Hongjoong grabbed your ass cheeks and squeezed them, relishing in the yelp coming from you. “I can’t wait for these to bounce on my dick.” With that he nearly ripped your jeans down, pulling them down until they reached your ankles. He then leaned forward and pressed his face against your lower stomach, inhaling your sweet scent and licking over your soft skin.

His teeth grazed over your skin down until they met the waistband of your panties. Hongjoong ever so slowly pulled them down with his teeth, looking up at you and seeing how you nearly vibrated with lust.

Once you only wore your shirt properly, Hongjoong leaned back and stared at you with a cocky smirk. He slid down his pants and boxers, letting his cock free.

You stood in front of him, squirming impatiently. Your gaze was trained on his hard on and you really wanted to touch him - feel him. But you couldn’t - not until Hongjoong allowed you to do it.

“Take a seat, baby.”

You whined softly and stepped closer to him. You were about to straddle him when Hongjoong shook his head and twirled his finger. As you turned around he spread his legs, letting you go between them.

Hongjoong grabbed your hips and guided you down, letting out a low groan when your tight walls encompassed his hard on. He slowly let you bounce on his cock, holding your hips tightly as he moved you up and down over and over again.

You moaned from the pleasure, the feeling way more intense with your legs pressed together like that. “Please, Hongjoong, please.”

“What is it baby? Use your words.”

“Cum”, you moaned out, barely able to form a complete sentence, “need cum. Please.”

Hongjoong snickered and pressed you down on his cock, holding you there closely. “Do you need to cum or do you need my cum inside you, baby?” He whispered into your ear, slightly nibbling your earlobe afterwards. One of his hands moved to your front and between your legs, circling your clit while he waited for your answer.

“Please.”

“Please what.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes from the building orgasm you weren’t allowed to release - not until he told you so. “I need to cum. Need your cum too! Please!”

Hongjoong thrusted into you a few more times, grunting into your ear as he did so. “Cum, baby, cum for me.”

You cried out his name as you came, feeling all your muscles tense up at once. Upon squeezing Hongjoong’s cock he came as well and held you close to himself. He leaned his head against your shoulders, breathing heavily as he came down from his own high.

“Just so you know, baby”, Hongjoong exhaled, rubbing his thumbs over your hips, “that was only the beginning. There’s a lot more to come tonight and you won’t get to sleep at all.”

“As long as I’m the only one to get all that”, you teased right back, leaning into your boyfriend's embrace.

A knock on the door disrupted your little moment. Both your heads snapped towards it as it opened a little. “Is it safe to come back in?” Seonghwa called out nervously. “We’d like to get changed and go home now.”

Both you and Hongjoong snickered in amusement as you hurriedly got presentable again, silently promising each other to return to the fun as soon as you got home.

Taglist: @xavi-in-kpopland @songsoomin

#pirateeznet #cultofdionysusnet #kwritersworldnet #kdiarynet #wkcnet #kvanity #kim hongjoong #ateez #ateez hongjoong #bouncy #one shot

81 notes · View notes

feyspeaker · 4 months

Note

Picked up two prints! (And a sticker!)

Just so you know, I would legit pay for, like, a collection of your prints in a size somewhere between the mini and 11x14.

Like, I just want to put a *bunch* of them in a binder and just look at it sometimes lol

thank you so so much!!!! ;A; I have considered other sizes, but I live in a tiny place and my printing room is already full of too many sizes of paper/mailers/tubes/etc for what I do offer. I will keep it in mind but the sizes I have now are probably going to be pretty set for now.

About to go off on a tangent, so apologies for hijacking your sweet ask.

honestly this is still so crazy to me, thank you. I have been illustrating for years and years now, but really only found proper footing this year after taking a huge break from commissions and just hammering in what I really want to do with my life.

I've always preferred rendered painting but I felt like the market was so saturated and that I'd never be able to make a living doing it. Many of my older followers will know that for a couple of years I was really on this digital watercolor kick, doing more stylized work. It was extremely grueling despite being faster, bc I forced myself to work entirely on 1 layer with no eraser. It was faster for me to do and felt more "lucrative" as far as timeliness, but I was not very happy doing it, and did a lot of rendered painting studies in my free time, it was basically my "fun time" where I was doing one style for work and a totally different one for private pieces. Literally, I would be painting realistic block of cheese as my downtime.

I was so convinced that stylized stuff was what people wanted, and I have had boxes and boxes of prints I've bought and thrown away because they didn't sell.

Now that I am doing the kind of art my heart wants to do, I am so much happier and completely overwhelmed by how there are actually people who want to art I make for myself on their walls.

This is probably coming off so random but I've been thinking about it a lot, it really is true that you HAVE to paint what makes you happy. If you try to box yourself in to what seems the more "marketable" I promise you are going to be miserable. (Never stop challenging yourself, though. seriously.)

I have never been happier about the art I have created in the last 6 or so years of doing this professionally than I am now that I just said "fuck it, I am tired of painting anime-ish stylized stuff because that's what's in." It's like I've been forcing myself to jam a square block into a circle shaped hole for years. Not to mention that doing line art on literally over a thousand pieces (yes, I've counted, absolutely insane; comic artists please take care of yourselves) for years has well and truly fucked my hand up permanently, I fear.

Other artists, please listen to that little creature in your brain that's telling you it doesn't like painting anime girls or cats or thick chunky line art because that's what you think is popular. If painting nothing but hyperrealistic swords is where you heart is happiest, just do it and stop forcing yourself because I promise there are thousands of people out there who want to see your swords. Just make sure to throw in some jewels or filigree or whatever every once in a while to keep yourself challenged.

Sorry again for hijacking your message, I just am regularly blown away that somehow people actually like my art now that I like it. (Not that my older pieces are regrets btw, I think every single thing you paint no matter the style is worth its figurative weight in gold)

#ask

31 notes · View notes

majimasleftasscheek · 4 months

Note

May I ask how you made the shaker charms? I've been wanting to do that a while but no clue how to.

aight so I'mma go into this with a lil assumption that there's some prior knowledge about making digital art but if you have any questions about anything, you can definitely ask!

so first step is finding a place that can make you the shaker charms. I use vograce - it's a lil more expensive than other places but I like the customer service and low minimum order amount. they have a specific tab just for shaker charms that breaks them down into what options you can pick, sizes, what the art files need to be like, etc that you can take a looksie just to see how they're made. I like to see in the comments at the bottom too to see what neat things people have made.

and this is what my art looks like (minus the background). I made the main shaker with plenty o' room to shake around the bits inside. and then the pieces to the right. the gate itself is around 1300px wide, 600dpi (which is tbh a lot, 300dpi is fine) — big enough so when it's shrunk to charm size it doesn't lose too much quality. save them out as transparent pngs separately (the main shaker + pieces). most places prefer CMYK color profiles but I'm a scrub that doesn't use that so I go with RGB and it works just fine. if you have the ability to preview color profiles, I go with CMYK: Japan Color 2001 Coated to help me adjust my colors for print.

then I made a draft of what I wanted it to look like when finished, specifically showing how the text should not flip the wrong way on the reverse side. I also put the bits inside but the manufacturer should be able to figure it out anyway lol. the dots atop the charms are where I want the hole to be for the chain. I send this to the manufacturer too just to make sure we're on the same page.

send the files to whoever is making the charm and that's about it. the hardest part really is making the art assets. there's no real rule to anything, I just eyeballed it all tbh.

the most important part imo is making sure everything's big enough (1000px, 300dpi or larger for the main shaker part imo) and making sure your colors are okay because what you see on screen can be pretty different in actual print. that requires a lil research like purple for example sometimes shows up like ass when printed.

as for sizing, that's very much up to you. sometimes making paper models to hold irl can help you decide how big you want things. I went thru 3? iterations of just this charm alone cuz I wasn't happy with the sizing or colors so I had to make a few adjustments. I often ask manufacturers for previews of my charms before they actually make them just to be sure they followed my draft.

this is the final version (ignore the scratches, that's just the film you gotta peel off). I also requested for sequins to be put in. the inside bits may come out a tad smaller than compared to my draft, just due to compensating for the outside border around the bits but more or less it's what I drew 👍

#hope this helps! but any more questions pls feel free to ask #blog mod

44 notes · View notes

this-is-spn20 · 10 months

Text

Yandere!Sam Winchester Headcanons

A/N: yes i know I dipped out for a few months but I got inspo for this from browsing another fandom and tried looking for yandere fics of our favorite boys but couldn’t find any! If you want something right, you have to do it yourself lol. Requests are always open!

Spread Love!

-Marissa

WARNING: These headcanons are written with an unaware/unwilling reader! There will be the theme of stalking, harassment, unwanted attention, manipulation, and abuse (not sexual). Please do not read this if you are not comfortable with these graphic stories. Your consumption of media is not my responsibility.

***MDNI***

I DID NOT COME UP WITH THE LIST. ALL RIGHTS GO TO @dear-yanderee !

Word Count: 4,428

Suggested song while listening: Be My Queen by Seafret

---------------

Sam may be (slightly) delusional, but he’s smart. And can be a bit sadistic, but he’s smarter than the average person, that’s for sure. Using his computer knowledge to spy on any and all social media you have. Hacking into your account while you were sleeping (he never made the effort of watching you in person, no no doll, you could possibly see him and it’d ruin everything. Just wait for him, Just a little bit longer.). He knew when you were sleeping because your laptop or phone wouldn’t have any activity for a while, meaning he could snoop around for a bit before you woke up. Took him weeks to dig through every square inch of your online life All your records, he’d print them out and clear his history so as to not set off Dean’s alarms or interest. Even though Dean knows something is up.

Compared to Dean, Sam just knows how to persuade you into liking him. Incorporating himself into your life without you knowing. Making himself ‘small’, a background character. That dickbag that bumped into you while walking in the park when there was CLEARLY enough room for him to pass by without nearly knocking you down (he didn’t even bother being gentle), well at that time, you didn’t know what a bad day truly was. Hell, if you’d just run up to him and cursed him out, you probably would’ve saved yourself a lot of grief. Probably. (Honestly, it probably would’ve made him more intrigued.)

Working double, sometimes even triple shifts, are bad enough. But when your job is to stock shelves in the only (and by proxy) biggest store in town, it’s just more strain and stress. So when some big old, lanky, buff asshat shows up in your store and almost completely wrecks one of your perfectly stocked shelves, you get a tiny bit upset. As you take two carts to take all the stuff down, your boss radios you to tell you to have two more shelves stocked up before your next break for the big sale. And to tell you that you’re on call for the rest of the week. Whoever that asshole was, you wished to see him so you could tell him about himself. Or beat his ass. Or both.

Little did poor, naive little you know that over the course of those first five, horrible, months that Sam was programming your mind already. You never saw his face, but he was showing that, while he could make your life so unbearable at a moment's notice, but he chose to do good. To do right by you. He showed how bad it could get before he swooped in and put on his deadly charm. First coming up to you in the store while you were stocking an aisle and asking where the candles were. When you told him, he thanked you and struck up a conversation. Using everything he knew you’d like to hear to rope you in. He made sure the first time you met him, you’d never forget him. Ever.

Now you’re just his little doll. Doomed to be locked up in the dungeon until you proved to be good for him. Then love, you’ll be allowed in his room! You may even get your privileges back. Only if you’re a good girl for him. Just for him. He knew it was only a matter of time now before you break. He just had to be a little more patient. Then you were all his.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s start over, shall we darlings?

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Giving gifts is his forte. When hacking into your computer, he made sure to make a list of your likes and dislikes. He knows your favorite movies, political views, your full name and date of birth, your blood type, your father’s dog’s name, everything. He saw the things you liked to buy online. Things you saved to your carts but could never afford to buy at the moment. So whatever is in your cart from whatever website, no matter the price, Sam takes it upon himself to buy the items and have them sent as gifts to your house. Anonymously of course. He loved seeing your face light up with surprise terror as you opened your door to yet another package on your porch with more items you planned on buying at the end of the month. If you could afford it of course. You wondered who was sending these packages. Someone you knew? But, you rarely showed anyone these wished possessions of yours. Was someone… watching you? I mean you always felt this… uneasy feeling in your chest lately. Maybe you should schedule a check-up with the doc.

Giving gifts is his forte. When hacking into your computer, he made sure to make a list of your likes and dislikes. He knows your favorite movies, political views, your full name and date of birth, your blood type, your father’s dog’s name, everything. He saw the things you liked to buy online. Things you saved to your carts but could never afford to buy at the moment. So whatever is in your cart from whatever website, no matter the price, Sam takes it upon himself to buy the items and have them sent as gifts to your house. Anonymously of course. He loved seeing your face light up with surprise **terror** as you opened your door to yet another package on your porch with more items you planned on buying at the end of the month. If you could afford it of course. You wondered who was sending these packages. Someone you knew? But, you rarely showed anyone these wished possessions of yours. Was someone watching you? You always felt this… uneasy feeling in your chest lately. Maybe you should schedule a check-up with the doc.

First, it was some makeup and a few nice dresses you wanted. You figured you’d still somehow ordered them. Even though your bank account didn't reflect such purchases. Still not convincing, even to yourself but, it was better than dwelling on ‘what-if’ questions. But as the gifts kept coming you got more and more… **concerned.** You’d confronted your coworker later the day after your umpteenth package. You told him that you appreciated his company while stocking the shelves, but you didn’t feel anything for him. To your annoyance, your coworker responded in complete confusion. When you told him to stop feigning ignorance he was positively confused. You and he didn’t know each other that well outside of work, so for this to be coming from you made him a bit angry. When you plainly told him what you thought had been doing, he told you to be careful, but he wasn’t the one doing it. In hindsight, you thought it was nice of him to express his concern. When he offered to walk you to your car that night, you were skeptical, but you let him do it.

Sam didn’t take too kindly to that.

But Sam decided to cool down on the packages. Now he thought was the time to make himself more involved in your day-to-day life. Small run-ins, nothing alarming but you knew who he was now. It started with him paying for your favorite drink at the local cafe you loved so much. He kept his cool and acted like it was just such a coincidence to run into you! How have you been holding up? He even took to finishing your book collection for your most recent series. Maybe taking to replace your worn books. You didn’t notice until you picked up one of your favorite novels and had to crack the spine. Indicating it was brand new. Things really got intense when you walked out to your car one morning and saw all your tires were replaced. When you got in, a note on your steering wheel simply said, “Your tires we going bald. You’re welcome.” You started getting more scared as the days passed. This person managed to get into not just your car, but also your house. A safe place. Your heaven. At least that’s what it used to be.

You were terrified to leave your house every day.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Well, Sam being Sam prefers to keep his hands clean as much as possible. Plus him hurting anyone close to you will make you even more challenging to get. He also knows what losing someone feels like. Even more than you actually. Why would he choose to make things harder between you two if being with you and only you is his ultimate goal? Come on, don’t be silly. It’d do nothing for him to see you so hurt. Who wants to see their soulmate in pain?

Unless it was absolutely necessary.

Like maybe one day you’re feeling a bit rowdy. You have a lot of fight, Sam had to give that to you. But why are you so insistent on staying apart? He can’t love you from afar, he refuses to live without your love. He’ll do anything to keep you with him. But as patient as Sam could be, there are only so many times you can push his buttons, love. Now if you keep fighting, I’ll have to punish you. We don’t want that, do we? After all, broken bones take a long time to heal… But don’t you worry princess, he’ll fix you right up!

With mandatory bed rest included.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Sam is a very loving person, so he wouldn’t really mock you at all. If you’re not trying to escape. If you are, you can expect to be tsked at and hear phrases such as

“Oh darling, I thought you knew better than to try something so stupid.”

“If you wanted to wear your chain today, you could’ve asked love.”

“Princess, you can’t get away from me. I will always see through your little plan. Your eyes tell me everything.”

If you’ve managed to piss him off (which takes a lot of effort so… go you?), you can expect him to leave you with more cuts and bruises than you could imagine. Just remember love, the more you fight, the angrier he gets…

And no, your begging and pleading will get you nowhere. But it hurts him more than it does you. You deserved it. It was for your own good darling. Trust him.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

No. Absolutely not. Sam knows love will come with time. He would never hurt you by doing anything you didn’t want him to. Including simply touching you (but isolation is a bitch babe.). Honestly, the only thing he is willing to do against your will is feed you. Especially if you go on a hunger strike. He will not allow anyone to hurt you. Not even you, and damn sure not him. He’d probably force-feed you through a tube. Same thing with being hydrated. He can't let his good girl starve now, can he? What kind of man would he be to let that happen, princess?

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Sam gives his whole heart and soul to you. He is a straight sucker for you honestly. He dotes on you a lot. Tries spoiling you with things he knows you’ll like. If you weren't in chains…

He tries to get you to open up to him by telling you everything about himself. To hunting, to what his favorite pair of socks were in middle school. Sam shows you sides of himself that not even Jessica got to see. He doesn't want to scare you so he almost shrinks himself to be smaller. Less threatening. Less dangerous. Honestly, if you’re smart, you could use this against him. You can start slowly opening up to him. Give as little information as possible and start planning your escape. Sam won't trust you to be out of the dungeon, or even your chains, for a while. But you’ve got nothing but time daring.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

At first, it’d be almost amusing. If it didn’t happen so much he’d probably get a chuckle out of it. He hates having to use forceful ways to calm you down but he has no choice. He’s used more chloroform than he’d like but it was worth it. But the chemical burns on your face make him really emotional. He may look into paralyzing spells to quail your attempts. If he does find such a spell, you’re fucked. Not completely, but it's not looking good for you, love. He feels like you both are in some loop. Like a cat-and-mouse game, though it’s getting tedious.

There is one upside to this though. These attempts of escape and fights give him an idea of how your brain works. Your fight style, and the ways you attempt to run from him and the bunker, give him more useful information and ways to stop your plans. Eventually, you can’t get out of the dungeon without at least 5 alarms tipping off Sam before you can even turn the door nob. Do with this information as you will, darling.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This is not a game to him. This isn't amusing in the slightest bit. Watching you try to get away from him hurts him deeply. You two are soulmates. Why can't you see this? Why run from him when he can give you the world. He waits on you hand and foot. He caresses you with the lightest touch. He gives you almost everything you ask from him. He will bring you the biggest, brightest star in the universe if you just love him, and let him love you. Open up to him. Adore him, like he adores you. Get lost in him and everything he is, like he does with you. You’ll do that for him, right doll?

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Believe it or not, but your worst experience with Sam wasn't when he occasionally snapped at you for your smart mouth. It wasn’t when he forced you to eat to keep yourself alive for him. Always for him.

It wasn’t even the time he came back from a hunt gone wrong and an argument with Dean once again, and Sam had come into the dungeon for the first time in a week. When he tried to land a kiss on your cheek, you’d headbutt him. Sam snapped and hurled harsh words your way, and you were struggling against the chains, Sam had enough of your shit so he grabbed your arm and slowly, very, very slowly twisted it behind your back until, through your screaming, you heard a sickening crack from your arm. Your ear-splitting screaming was heard throughout the whole bunker and you collapsed into darkness. Praying that this was your end. But when you woke up to some beige room on an old musty bed with a cast on your arm, you couldn’t stop the sob that ripped through your chest. Only for Sam to immediately wrapped his arms around you and coo at your tears rolling into his shirt. Declaring he’d never bring harm to you again, although the scars covering your skin told you otherwise.

No, you see, the worst experience for you, dealing with Sam, was the day you realized you needed him. That you loved him. How could you not see it earlier? Sam’s doting nature, his soft smile, the obsession adoring look in his eyes, his velvet touch. Everything that was him. You loved him. You loathed him. He took everything from you, yet had given you so much. He gave himself to you. Trusted you with his very soul. And here you were. Being selfish, greedy, mean-spirited, reclusive, disrespectful, and just plain stupid. Sam could have anyone he wanted. But he wanted you, and you had the audacity to not love him back? Stupid and horrible. You hoped it wasn’t too late to win his heart.

Wait. This… isn’t right. Is it?

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

He wants to enable you in all of your passions and hobbies. He wants the not-exactly-white-picket-fence-lifeTM with you. You and the front porch relaxing, watching him work in the front yard and you smiling at him ever so brightly. He wants to watch you take care of your plants and gardens, in a huge house that he worked so hard to get for you. For the both of you. Watching you take care of your many dogs and cats around the house.

And running after you around the living room and kitchen, just to catch you. Him carrying you up the stairs while looking into each other's eyes. Him smirking down at you, knowing it's gonna be another long night of passionate sex and lovemaking. In the morning, waking you up with gentle kisses and licks and biting. Teasing you out of your dreams. Dreams filled with nothing but him. Going into the kitchen to help you make breakfast. You lightly scolded him after him messing up, because he could help thinking how sexy you look in his shirts. Passion-filled make-out sessions with teenage-level humping and grinding. Sam always finds himself in these fantasies, only to snap back into reality all too soon. Then he remembers you must be so cold and hungry in that old dungeon. But he knows that one day he’ll get to live out all of that with you and so much more. Not today, but one day.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Well, he doesn’t have to be jealous because you don't even go outside…

Though he does keep a close eye on Dean. Knowing how he can be.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Sam is ecstatic when you finally allow him to touch you. His hands have been itching to cover every single inch of your body. He loves the way your skin feels on his hardened calloused hands. Your skin was still a bit rough from the scars Sam’s hands left behind. Those same hands touching you as if you were the best prize on earth. And to Sam, you definitely were. Kisses galore. When you initiated the first kiss, it was hesitant and a bit clumsy, but Sam cherished the way your lips trembled against his. Nothing mattered to him anymore at that moment. Only you. Always you.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

As stated before, Sam relished the fact that you (subconsciously) knew he was always there. Sam always found a way to be a background character in your life. A supporting role. If you will. Always the blurry face in the crowd. But always there.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Oh yes. He is very much different in different environments. He’ll coddle and hug and kiss you near death. He’s almost always in a good mood when he’s spending time with you. Happy BoiTM. When he’s with Dean, he’s pretty normal. They typical brother teasing, the good moments, the bad ones. Sam acts like he always acted before you came along and rocked his world. The same goes for Donna, Jody, Alez, and Claire. The interactions are the same. But when with you, he can't focus on anything else but you. That's also the reason why he won't bring his research into the dungeon/room when you're there. He wants to show you that he can separate work and home life. With you, he lets his obsession love for you run free. He just can’t hide how he feels about you, love. Also, cause he can’t focus with you around.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Isolation mostly, yet if you show yourself to be resistant to that, he’ll use physical pain and manipulation.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Almost all of your rights are taken from you. You can’t use any means of communication (unless you found some way to get hold of a spell.), You aren’t allowed to use any electronics unless Sam is practically attached to your skin. The only thing you can do is use the bathroom alone. Sam will allow you a few minutes in there depending on what you’re doing. But he’s taking everything that helps you escape out of there, even the mirror… You can’t be alone when you shower though. Sam will stand there, in the hot and humid bathroom and watch your every move as you shower. When you’re done, he’ll help you dry off and help you rub your lotion on your now rough and scared skin with nothing but utter devotion swimming in his eyes. Your night clothes will be put on by him as well. All of this will be done with the lightest, silk touch.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Extremly patient. Most days, he’ll put up with you and your shenanigans. But some days, when he’s in a bad mood or just generally tense, he’ll have a shorter fuse. You’ve learned to follow his orders on these days. Lest you’d like to go back into the dungeon…

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Sam would never let you go easily so I’d say death really could be your only escape, and even then, thats not a guarantee. He could always make a crossroads deal, or bargain with Crowley. Hell he’d even try bargaining with Death himself. He’ll torture a thousand demons to get you back. Sam will walk through Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven to get to you. Sam will go as far as kill himself in hopes he can follow you to heaven be with you eternally. Sure he’d feel guilty about leaving Dean, but he’d be with you. He can live with that. After all, how many times had Dean left him, only to beg Sam to move on?

Now if you had escaped and were able to stay hidden, either by the help of some angels or demons or the other he’ll search the ends of the Earth to find you. If he wasn’t able to find you by himself, he’d enlist in Dean, Jody, Donna, Claire, Alex, Charlie, and other trusted hunters, hell he’d even ask Rowena to help. If all of them together weren’t able to find you, Sam would never get over you. He’d grieve you every day while you celebrate getting away from him.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

While Sam would never let you go, he’d feel incredibly guilty about taking you away from your home, your friends, your family, and your life. With him, Dean, and John constantly moving around due to hunting, he knows exactly how you feel.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Yes, in fact, his childhood and early adult life were a factor, constantly losing new friends to the hunting life, and then losing Jessica, his father, Dean more than once, and more people he could count. This, as one would imagine, would leave an impression on even the toughest people. Not to mention being bullied at a young age and not being accepted in any social groups just for being who he was. So when he first saw you, he knew he wanted you, and he wouldn’t risk you not accepting him, or being taken from him.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Hearing you scream and cry makes his whole body shiver as tears sting in his eyes. He’d do anything you’d like to see you only smile for the rest of your days together. Hearing your sobs late into the night makes his body feel as if he’s being dipped into the hottest lakes of fire. You could swear one day, you could hear the cracking of his heart as he watched you cry one day. You’d also notice how his tears would fall at the same time as yours did.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

On days when you’d been extra good, he’d take you for a ride in the Impala up to his favorite stargazing hill and bring a book and blanket. He’d read to you as you zoned out watching the stars glitter in the skies. Wondering how peaceful the star would be. Millions of miles away from you. You’d appreciate the little bit of freedom, even though you still had to wear a collar. But at least your wrists could get a break from those iron chains.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

The more you behave, the more Sam takes you out. Not in public places just yet. But it will come with time. Just stick it out and eventually you go to pubic places together and then you can plan your escape and get away from Sam once and for all. But keep in mind, if you fail and get caught, Sam will likely never take you out again. And if by some miracle he does, he will literally handcuff your hands together.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

If you piss him off enough he’ll slice your skin to ribbons and remind you what happens to bad girls. If you keep disobeying him he might just break a few of your bones. You can’t escape if both of your legs are broken, can you darling? He’ll break your mind by either isolation or some sort of mind spell.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

He damn near kisses the dirt you walk on. This man is devoted to you. He’ll bring you every star you desire, he will kill every monster, buy everything you can ever want, hug you for however long to make you happy and feel safe. Anything doll, name anything and he’ll do it.

Except kill Dean. Nice try love.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

Sam would spend no more than a few months to a year pining over you. Using his time wisely before he just couldn’t hold himself back anymore. Even still, he was as calculated as ever in kidnapping retrieving you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Yes. You’ll be broken beyond repair if you don’t get out.

-------------------

A/N: I hope you all enjoyed these headcanons! I'm back baby! Requests are open!

Spread Love,

-Marissa

TAGGING: @imaginestuffs @naturalswifty89 @fooshigoomies @of-a-chaotic-mind @as-lost-as-sams-shoe @starlordsimp1358 @slytherinlyn16 @trickstergoddessblog @desimarie12 @lovelynerdylady @samsgirl93 @candy-coated-misery0731 @crazyaboutotps @anjalika03

If you would like to be tagged in all my works just leave an ask!

45 notes · View notes

avianyuh · 6 months

Note

Heya! Do you take requests? If so, can you please write BTS members headcanons where their SO has her finals approaching and feels apathetic, lazy/unmotivated to study? PS-Love your writing! THANK YOU :)

{A/N; as a stressed out college student, this request spoke to me lol}

BTS Helping Thier S/O Through Finals

Word Count; 1,587

Jin:

Jin really did feel for you during finals

So when you told him you were feeling unmotivated and a little overwhelmed

He knew you would either completely ignore studying or stress yourself out and prioritize cramming for notes over sleeping and getting enough to eat

Neither option was good in his mind

So, he told you he would help you stay on track

So he tried to help you the best way he knew how to

He ended up creating meal plans and would cook for you

If he had to be somewhere and couldn't be home with you he would leave you meals in the fridge to heat up

He usually makes you fresh meals with lots of veggies and filling ingredients

He wanted you to be healthy

He'd try to encourage you to take some breaks

Whether it was Jin trying to get you to put down your textbook and play a round of MarioKart

Just something fun to get your mind off of things

He would leave you alone to study

But if it got to be really late in the night

He would come into your room and tap on your shoulder, telling you the time and suggesting you go to bed

He'd carry you to bed and make sure to keep all of the lights dimmed so you didn't get headaches or anything

He'd just be such a sweetheart

Yoongi:

I think Yoongi would treat your finals the same way he treats work

He usually bottles up his emotions and just perseveres through hard times

Which was exactly what you were doing

So when he finally asked you one day how your studies were going he was surprised to hear you say you hadn't even cracked open your notes yet

At first, he didn't really know how to help you since he kept those struggles to himself

He had to think about your situation for a minute

How can he help you?

He realized that he needed to figure out a way to get you interested and motivated again

To him that meant getting the two of you to be productive together

So that meant staying up late with you

You'd usually come to the studio, sometimes the two of you stayed at home

You'd sit next to each other at the desk

He'd work on his music and you'd be working on getting through your studies

When things got boring he'd have you switch seats with him

You'd listen to his demos and he'd read over your notes or essays

You'd give each other advice or suggestions, then you'd switch back

And it turned out, that his plan worked

It kept you motivated and interested

Being able to share something helped keep you on track and helped to get your mind off of your finals

Hoseok:

Hobi has always stressed the importance of transparency with you

He always wanted you to be honest about your feelings with him

He could also tell when you were upset or overwhelmed in any way

One night at dinner, he noticed that you weren't as talkative and you kept your head down

He knew something was bothering you

So when he questioned you about your change in demeanor, your reaction was concerning

You ended up breaking down right in front of him

He immediately got up out of his chair and came over to your side of the table, crouching down to be at eye level with you

He pulled you closer to him and asked how he could help

So when you explained that you felt burnt out and lost in your studies, completely unprepared for your finals

He made it his mission to help you

He came home early from practice

Helping you create flashcards

Running to the library or bookstore if you needed something

If you ever printed things, Hobi would collect everything and staple it all for you

Constantly asking if you needed anything

"Do you need more flashcards? Sticky notes? Glitter pens?"

So attentive and just wanted you as stress-free as possible

Namjoon:

As we all know, Joonie is very, very smart

But he is also a very mature, responsible, caring leader

And obviously, those traits bleed over into his love life with you

Just like Hobi, I think Joon would easily pick up on the fact that you were stressed

But I don't even think you'd have to explain much to Namjoon

He knew that finals were coming up

He watched you night after night, hunched over at your desk with your head in your hands

He got the impression that you were having a hard time focusing

So instead of you coming to Namjoon

H was the one that sat you down one day and offered you some help

He suggested study sessions with him

Flashcards, books, all that jazz

He would create and buy everything

And you would follow his mock study plan

He could see your mood change from reserved and quiet to positive and confident in a short amount of time

All of that was worth it when you came home a week after your finals had ended

Of course with an A-grade for almost all of your finals

#1 teacher Kim Namjoon!

Jimin:

Another sweetheart

Was genuinely upset to see you so unhappy and stressed

When you told him you didn't have any motivation to study and that you would just accept your fate of a bad grade, he knew he had to help you stay on track

Jimin would be a combination of Jin and Hobi

I don't think he'd cook, but he'd make all the little decisions for you

Like, he'd just order you takeout from places he knew you liked

And he'd make your bed for you and wash all the dishes

Like Hobi, Jimin would be outside of your door constantly

By that, I mean constantly Jimin would be running out to get you all the supplies you needed

Sometimes you didn't even ask, he would just snoop around your desk and notice all of the little things

Like if you were low on pencils or if you were nearing the end of a notebook

I think HE'D be the one to print out a bunch of articles or cheat sheet-type things for you to read

Jimin would also make sure you took time to sleep, but also make sure that you stuck to a schedule

He literally bought one of those corkboards to hang over your desk and would stick notes and printouts on it for you

He'd bribe you with fun outings, only if you studied for maybe 2 hours or something

"We can go to that carnival, but you need to study for your history final first, TWO HOURS, NON-NEGOTIABLE"

The specifics/times would change depending on your level of interest in the outing and subject lol

He didn't want you stressed, but he didn't want you to feel like you shouldn't study at all

To be honest, finals season was more stressful for him than it was for you

Taehyung:

When finals approached and he noticed you hadn't been studying he was a bit confused

At first, he thought you were going to the library to study, but he noticed you were home more than usual

So when he asked you if everything was okay, you just shrugged and told him you didn't care

Tae became concerned as he knew school was important to you

So he pressed on

"Is it a class? Is it too hard?, I'll Help you Y/n!"

So after a few pesterings from Tae you finally confessed that it was all too overwhelming and you just didn't want to stress over your classes

Taehyung offered to help you as best he could

As Tae loves clothes, he would pick out your outfits for you so you didn't get decision fatigue

He'd also make you food and take care of all of the household chores

You two would have nightly 'therapy' sessions where you'd explain to him what was hard

Then he'd look over your notes and try to help you

This period of time included lots of cuddles and support

And spoiler alert, you got great results after the grades were finalized

All thanks to Tae

Jungkook:

Kook has always been a productive

I mean, come on...he's a Virgo, it's written in the stars for him

Literally

So when you offhandedly mentioned you wouldn't be paying much attention to your finals

JK knew he couldn't let that slide

He loves to be organized and on top of things

So he took it upon himself to create a schedule for you

Like Jimin, I think he'd also buy you a corkboard and stick flashcards on it lol

He really wanted you to be successful

And of course, he'd hear out any of your concerns and try to help you with anything you were stuck on

I think he'd try to cook you some healthy meals

He'd also be that kind of dork to be like; "Well science proves that working out helps you with memorization"

Because JK has turned into quite the gym bro he'd force you to take breaks and go to the gym with him

And whenever you got tired of the gym, you'd say stuff like "I'd rather write my 10,000-word essay than do another push up"

and Kook would be like, "Bet😏"

and before you knew it, you'd be a successful studying machine

He used reverse psychology and you didn't even know

{Additional A/N; I know for college finals are approaching, so I want to say good luck to everyone who is gearing up for that, and of course thank you to the beautiful anon who sent in this request, I hope you liked it!}

30 notes · View notes