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#make a whole new face. with the click of a few button.
j4c0b-j4c0bs · 6 months
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drew a guy...
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like BUNCHA guy....... added some custom expressions too...
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bonewreath · 3 months
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so, your best friend accidentally sent you a video of her masturbating. what now?
18+ below! smut smut smut!
ellie’s bedroom is heavy with the scent of sex, her fingers still pruned from her own wetness. she’s spent the last few minutes tense and panicked, too paralyzed with anxiety to get up and put some clothes on, and she’s considering what she’ll change her name to and where she’ll move to start a new life when you finally, finally text her back.
it’s okay. give me a second to reply, alright?
the weight on her chest eases a bit at your reassurance, but a new spark of uncertainty flares up at the second part of the message: give me a second to reply. jaw tight, she sends you a question mark, then follows up with you don’t have to respond. it’s probably better if you don’t?? again i’m so fucking sorry.
but as the minutes tick by, slow and lazed, she starts to panic again. her mind conjures every possible response you could send her next: an angry thesis statement on why ellie’s a disgusting pervert, a seething comment about how stupid she must be for sending a video like that so carelessly. would you ever look at her the same way? would things ever be the same?
all it takes is another notification from you to make every imagined worst-case scenario evaporate. ellie clicks the notification as soon as it pops up, chewing on the soft flesh of her inner lip.
it’s a video.
you sent her a video.
she hits the play button without a second thought, heartbeat thudding in her ears.
“i know you’re probably embarrassed,” you say, head tilting as you frown with sympathy. a blush paints ellie’s cheeks bright red. “but i need you to know how wet that made me.”
holding the camera up, you extend your arm outwards to reveal the rest of your body - your naked body, ellie realizes with a shock. she sits up in bed, back ramrod straight, her phone shaking as a nervous tremor strikes through her. but she can’t look away - not when you’re tracing a hand down the soft curves of your body, fingertips grazing over one peaked nipple, then moving lower, lower. ellie swears she’s forgotten how to breathe.
you release a pleased hum. “i liked watching you touch yourself,” you say, so matter-of-fact. “i hope you like watching me.”
and she does, god she does. she settles back down onto the mattress, eyes never leaving the screen as you work two fingers through your soaked folds. you moan and sigh and keen, rolling your hips down against your own hand, the wet sounds of your pussy so intoxicating, ellie can’t believe she’s gone her whole life without seeing you like this.
and it might be wrong, the way her own hand drifts between her legs to find herself still hot and wet, but she doesn’t have it in herself to care. she dips a finger inside of herself as she watches you ride your own hand, grinding down on your palm as your fingers work in and out of your cunt. she finds a rhythm that matches your own; soon enough, you’re both gasping at the pleasure building beneath your waistline. with every roll of your hips, ellie’s cunt tightens, flooding with slickness - as if she could get any wetter.
as you get closer to the edge, your grip on your phone falters and the camera starts to shake. ellie hisses and curses under her breath when your phone captures the blissed-out look on your face: eyes rolled back, brows pulled together, teeth sinking into your lower lip.
“oh - oh my god,” you stutter, panting, “i’m gonna come, ellie.”
ellie. ellie ellie ellie.
“holy fuck.” ellie’s pussy clamps down around her fingers at the sound of her name on your lips; her thumb glides over her clit just right, and she didn’t think she’d come this fast but she does, her vision exploding into blinding white as her orgasm crashes into her. it’s the only time she looks away from the video on her screen - but she certainly hears your orgasm, all high-pitched moans and ragged breaths, your cunt gushing onto your fingers.
when ellie finds the strength to open her eyes again, the video is still playing. you’re catching your breath, chest shimmering with a thin layer of sweat. you look at the camera and smile. ellie thinks she might pass out.
“thanks for the video,” you say, lifting your free hand up to wave.
when you bring your fingers to your mouth and purse your lips around them, sucking them clean of your own come, ellie’s sure she’s going to pass out.
and then, she decides, she’s going to fuck you stupid.
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vanteguccir · 4 months
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Tiktok trends | Chris Sturniolo
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Chris Sturniolo x reader
Summary: 4 times that Y/N and Chris made a couple's trend on tiktok.
Warning: None.
Requested?: Yes, by anon.
Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
PS.: This happens in the same universe as the Guess who's who | Chris Sturniolo.
PS. 2: I made a part 2!
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Since the pandemic, tiktok has become one of the most used social media in the whole world, thousands of people download it every day and thousands more create content daily or, sometimes, just post a video that explodes in views, many of them starting a career with it, or creating a hobby from it.
And that's what happened in Y/N's life. She was still finishing high school when she posted her first video on the app, not expecting it to get more than 10 likes.
She was at the triplets' house, still in Boston, watching a movie with her boyfriend, when that same video exploded, reaching more than 300 thousand views and 150 thousand likes.
So, while Matt, Nick, and Chris were starting their careers on their new YouTube channel, Y/N was starting hers on TikTok.
Fans loved the fact that Chris's girlfriend had a TikTok account and posted regularly, after all, she lived with him in LA, which meant that the fandom had content of her and him together almost weekly.
Y/N was the typical influencer who participated in all the trends that interested her, from dancing or singing famous songs to recording herself cooking different recipes.
But the ones she loved most were the couple trends, and it was nothing that a few minutes of begging Chris to do them with her couldn't convince him.
Secretly, the boy loved making that mini videos for TikTok with Y/N; he adored showing that he was hers, how much he loved her, and how obsessed he was with her.
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1.
Chris positioned Y/N's phone on top of his computer desk, the device resting on his laptop with the screen facing forward, the TikTok camera already open, and with the audio already selected.
The boy took his Prada wallet from the back pocket of his baggy jeans, leaving it ready in his hand, hiding it behind his back.
His blue eyes glanced briefly at Y/N, who was on his right side and out of the camera's frame, a smile on her face as she admired him, waiting for the recording to begin.
He extended his right arm, clicking the red button in the bottom center of the screen. The melody of the chorus of Cupid's Chokehold / Breakfast in America by Gym Glass Heroes began to play.
"Everywhere I go I keep her picture in my wallet like"
Chris removed his hand that was hidden behind his back, showing the black wallet and opening it, holding it on the left side so that the right side was exposed to the camera, the transparent plastic holding a small picture of Y/N. His face appeared on the right side of the screen, a sideways smile decorating his face.
The girl was lying on Chris's chest in the picture, probably in their bed, the room was dark and the camera's flash completely illuminated her face, a big smile adorned her features along with her closed eyes.
Chris brought his wallet closer to the phone's front camera, holding it there for a few seconds before lifting it slowly and lowering it quickly while moving slightly to the right side.
"Take a look at my girlfriend"
Y/N's figure appeared where the wallet was, wearing a pink set from Fresh Love, a soft smile on her face as her eyes focused on Chris, a passionate glow in them.
"She's the only one I got (ba-ba-da-da)"
Chris returned the smile, placing his wallet on the desk and pulling his girlfriend's body against his, filling her face and neck with kisses. Y/N, throwing her head back with her mouth open in silent laughter, was the last image the camera captured before the tiktok ended.
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2.
Y/N docked her phone in the phone holder attached to the dashboard of the triplets' car, which she asked Matt to borrow the keys so she could go out to lunch with Chris.
She lowered the device's screen brightness, leaving it at minimum so that Chris wouldn't see the TikTok camera opened. Her eyes quickly went to her boyfriend next to her, seeing him scrolling through his own cell, probably looking for a nice restaurant for them to eat at, as Y/N had asked him to do.
She quickly clicked the red record button at the bottom of the screen, smiling briefly at it, an amused gleam in her eyes.
"There's this Osteria Mozza that looks cool. It's Italian, just how you like it." Chris commented, his eyes still focused on his own phone screen as he read the restaurant's reviews.
"Great, I feel like eating pasta." Y/N nodded quickly. "Let me just touch up my lip gloss real quick." She asked, turning her body sideways and reaching over to the seat where Nick normally sits, grabbing her purse.
She pulled it forward, slamming the side of it against the back of Chris' head, before placing it on her lap.
"Ouch, fuck! What was that for?" Chris's voice was high pitched due to the surprise of the impact, his cap almost falling off his head as his right hand left his phone and went to his hair, fixing the piece there while he looked exasperatedly at his girlfriend, his blue eyes wide.
The girl pressed her lips together as she tried to hold back her laughter, clearing her throat momentarily. She opened her purse and took out her Dior lip gloss.
"I'm sorry, baby. I didn't even notice. Are you okay?" Y/N glanced at him quickly, her brow furrowed in false concern.
"Yes, just be careful next time." Chris asked, removing his hand from his cap before turning his attention back to his phone.
Y/N closed the zipper after reapplying her lip gloss, anticipating her boyfriend's final reaction before turning her body again, raising her arm and taking the purse to the backseat, slamming it into Chris again, this time hitting his nose.
"Babe! What the fuck?" He frowned, turning abruptly to her as he brought his hand up to his nose, rubbing the area. "What the hell are you doing?"
A sound of laughter escaped Y/N's throat, her mouth falling open as a laugh escaped freely, her head falling back. Chris watched her as if she were crazy, the beginning of a smile appearing on his lips, his blue eyes running over her expressions.
"I'm sorry baby, it was for a tiktok. You're so funny." She said amidst laughter, pointing to her phone that was still recording them.
Chris rolled his eyes, a big smile taking over his features as his hand reached for the device. He widened his eyes at the camera playfully before clicking the red button again, stopping the recording.
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3.
Y/N took advantage of the fact that Chris was still brushing his teeth in the bathroom of their bedroom to position her phone on the nightstand on her side of the bed, the front camera capturing an entire side of the room.
She pressed her lips into a thin line, trying to contain her laughter in anticipation as she grabbed her pillow and blanket from the bed, gathering them both under her arm.
"Chris, I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight." Y/N spoke out loud, intending for the boy to hear her.
And he did, lifting his head abruptly and turning his body completely towards her, his toothbrush in hand and toothpaste on his lips.
"What?" His voice was muffled by his full mouth, his eyes wide as he watched her in surprise.
"I'm going to sleep on the couch today." She repeated, looking directly at him this time, making sure her body wasn't in full view of the camera or cutting into Chris's image.
"What? Why?" Chris asked again, a thread of sadness crossing his blue eyes as his brow furrowed, his mind working hard to try to understand what he had done wrong. A pain took over Y/N's heart, wanting to give up on the idea right then and there.
"I'm going to sleep in the living room, on the couch." Y/N spoke one last time, turning around and walking towards the bedroom door, in order to open it, but her action was stopped by the brunette, who spat the paste in his mouth into the sink and dropped the brush, running towards the girl.
"Wait, you sleep on the bed, and I sleep on the floor above a blanket or something, and tomorrow morning, we'll talk about it. Just don't let me sleep alone." He asked in a desperate tone, taking her arm and pulling her close, wanting to hug her and apologize for whatever he had done, even without knowing what it was.
Y/N looked into Chris' eyes, her own wide in surprise. She didn't expect that.
"Oh my baby, no! It's a prank, just a tiktok trend." The girl explained quickly, pointing briefly to the phone still recording before pulling Chris into her arms, feeling her eyes filling with tears and her heart warming with love.
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4.
"Nick, this is not that difficult. They only have two types: pink and purple, I want the pink one! Are you dumb?" Chris was talking loudly, his phone pressed on his ear as he was on a call with his brother, having asked Nick to buy a specific candy he knew Y/N liked on his quick trip to Target.
Y/N walked towards him with her own phone in hand already recording, the rear camera facing Chris, who was sitting on their bed with his back against the headboard, the blanket covering half of his body as the sound of a random series came out of the television.
The girl was only wearing small cycling black shorts and a Chris t-shirt that was huge on her body, covering her bra-free boobs.
She walked closer as she watched her boyfriend fight with his brother, a look of boredom in his eyes that quickly met hers, a small smile appearing on his face as he sent her a wink.
Y/N smiled back before stopping her steps, her free hand going to the hem of her - his - t-shirt and pulling it up a second later, exposing her boobs to Chris.
His blue eyes widened in a matter of seconds, his mouth opening into a perfect O. Nick's voice sounded shouting from the other side, demanding that Chris responded, but to his ears, everything seemed to have gone silent.
"Nick, buy anything, you name it. I need to take care of one thing right now, I mean, two." The brunette spoke weakly into his phone, lowering the device and clicking the red button to hang up the call without even looking at it, completely ignoring Nick's voice on the other end.
The girl let out a laugh, the image of Chris standing up abruptly and pulling Y/N against his body being the last thing captured on camera, before the tiktok ended.
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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷���
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Thinking about Baby daddy!Miguel O’Hara who had the largest smirk on his face when he watched your new boy toy and you leave the pool party, already knowing the awkward tension between you both will only escalate once you're both alone.
Baby daddy!Miguel who purposely goes out of his way to start dropping you a bagel and coffee at your place of work when it’s your weeks with gabi, saying it was on the way to work and how he remembered how you once made an offhand comment about how you never have time for breakfast before dropping off your daughter at school or at summer soccer camp before going to work.
Baby daddy!Miguel started to call you your nickname he had given you during college. First time dropping it casually during a swap, trying to garner your reaction, which was nothing more than a small laugh and a curious head tilt.
Baby daddy!Miguel who (after a few beers with Peter) finally realizes why he’s been oddly territorial over you as of recently. Before a new guy entered the picture, it was as if you two never stopped being together, sure there weren’t any kissing or hand holding, but when it was just you three, it felt like being a part of the family you were a part of pre-splitting up. You and Miguel weren’t like his parents, there was no toxicity or bad blood between you both, just two people who grew apart.
And now, he was drunk, crying on Peter’s shoulder while his friend rubbed his back to soothe him, coming to the realization that he’ll always love you. Because you’ve never given him a reason not to.
Baby daddy!Miguel who is now on your doorstep after dropping your daughter off at soccer camp. A bouquet of flowers hiding behind his back, wearing a white button up, with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of black slacks and dress shoes. Taking a shaky breath before knocking, feeling dejau hit him, catching himself in the same position 12 years ago when he first came to your dorm to ask you out.
Baby daddy!Miguel whose whole world came crashing down when the same guy from the carne asada opened the door instead of you, shirtless. With messy hair and sweatpants that we’re hanging low enough for Miguel to realize what had just transpired in your place moments ago.
Baby daddy!Miguel, whose heart shattered when you reintroduced him as your boyfriend.
Shaky hands, a thin layer of sweat, dry mouth, if Miguel didn’t know better, he would have thought he was sick. His left hand held the boutique behind him while the other fidgeted with the small excess flap of his belt, only to place the hand in his pocket when he heard the sound of muffled steps approaching the door. Clearing his throat as the door let out a faint click sound before opening.
Miguel had to drip hard on the thorny stems so he didn’t drop them out of shock. He tried his best to keep a calm expression on his face. But it seems his poker face wasn’t good enough, because the smirk your boy toy had on his face as he leaned against the door said it all. Despite being shorter than Miguel, he was acting as if he was on top of the world. Miguel blinked out of his trance when he heard your voice say a faint “who is it?” from the next room before you appeared next to him. If the sight of the man next to you wasn’t enough for Miguel, yours certainly sent him on a downwards spiral.
You were in shorts and his shirt.
“Oh Miguel! Hey, you remember Henry, my boyfriend.”
Boyfriend?
“Yeah.” He mumbled with a head nod, to which Henry returned as he crossed his arms.
Fuck.
“Um-sorry, Gabriella said she forgot her good pair of soccer shoes.” Miguel managed to say after clearing his throat, not wanting to make a fool of himself anymore then he probably already had.
To be fair, she did forget them.
Part 3<
Part 5<
Not proofread.
Word count: 600
Taglist: @ginnysculture @mishaglass @wusyanamee @mangoslushcrush @queerponcho @bunnibitez @miguelzslvtz @migueloharastruelove @dahehow @sinners-98-world @othersideoftheparadise @toyfortoji @yeshajane @yvesbi @strawberryjuice9 @hanjisgf @deljojeisbackagain @safixiovi @emmalandry @maxinemus3 @lauraolar14 @aaaaslaaaan
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ilygetou · 8 months
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MET HER 0N THE iNTERNET | EREN JAGER.
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PAIRING: EREN JAEGER X FEM! READER.
SYNOPSIS: Eren Jaeger met you on the internet & immediately fell in love with your looks, personality and body. He knew his crush on you was dumb and will not last long because come on — online relationships? Those don’t last that long. Until eren found a way to not make it online anymore!
C/W: losing the pwp war, noncon –> dubcon, online stalking, solo m! masturbation, lovesick! eren, possessive! eren, cheating, vaginal fingering, face/throat fucking, facial, brief after-care at the end.
WORD COUNT: 5.9K
NOTE: repost. i know y’all are so sick n’ tired of me but this is going to be the last time i promise 😓😓🤞
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Eren was laying down on his bed, the moonlight illuminating and reflecting on his phone screen as he scrolled through people’s accounts/profiles on instagram. None who’ve piqued his interest, scrolling and scrolling until he came across your profile.
Clicking on your username, he was met with the highlights you have saved on your profile and the three posts you have posted. Eren clicked on the first post–it was a picture of you laying down on your bed, ass slightly up while you had your tongue in-between your teeths with a small smile.
Eren slightly gulped and continued going through your posts, his breath slightly hitching once he came across a picture of you with your thong peeking out from the low rise jeans you were wearing, shirt too tight your cleavage was all out.
Eren quickly zoomed out and went to check your highlights, clicking on the first one which was titled with “<3”, knowing exactly what it meant as soon as he saw a picture of you and another man holding hands. The next story being another picture of you and that man nose touching. As eren continued going through the highlights, the more furious he got even though he doesn’t even know you.
Eren clicked his tongue in annoyance before hitting the ‘follow’ button, maybe, fate might be on his side for once and you’d break up with your boyfriend soon.
The next day came rather quickly and throughout his whole day–eren was thinking about you. He was thinking about how gorgeous you looked, your smile so sweet, your hair styled in a unique way, everything about you was perfect. He couldn’t help but keep thinking about you, despite not knowing who you are.
12:40am.
Eren threw himself on the bed, letting out a sigh before unlocking his phone–clicking on the instagram app and checking his notifications, to find that you’ve followed him back. Eren smiled. Viewing your story to find that you’ve posted a new picture of yourself, it was a full body mirror picture. Your body slightly tilted to the side showing off your ass, you held up a peace sign over your face–you were wearing nike pro shorts with a plain white t-shirt.
Eren quickly liked your story, swiping up to reply–“lookin real’ good” and not even a minute has passed, he has already received a reply from you. “Thank youuu,” eren scoffed at the lack of energy and effort in your reply but then again, he gets it, you have a boyfriend. You shouldn’t be giving into other men’s compliments.
Eren decided to check your following, maybe even try and find your boyfriend’s username since you didn’t tag him in any of your posts.
You were following a couple of hashtags, some celebrities and then the rest were mostly your friends, family and classmates. Eren scrolled and scrolled until he came across a guys’ profile, he had your initial in his bio and a “i ❤️ my gf” pfp. His account was private and you were one of the few people following him. Eren decided that this was your boyfriend and to confirm his suspicions about it he went through your posts and checked the comment section.
A total of almost 200 comments were under each one of your posts and finally, after a few seconds of scrolling he found the same guy bombarding your comment section; “wife” “😍😍” “mine <3” eren rolled his eyes, slightly clenching his fists in annoyance.
He turned off his phone and placed it anywhere besides him. Eren was laying down on his bed, his hand resting on his forehead as he went deep into thought. Thinking of ways to get to know you better and maybe even make you fall in love with him just like how he fell in love with you at first sight.
Then an idea suddenly popped up. Eren quickly turned on his phone and texted one of his closest friends.
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Eren’s fingers dragged towards the “ + to your story” button, scrolling through his camera roll and clicking on a picture of himself after the gym–shirtless and all sweaty from working out. He added any song that seemed to fit and posted the picture on his story. In a matter of a few seconds, eren got a bunch of notifications– “armin_arlert liked your story” “conniethegoat liked your story” “mikasa_ackerman liked your story” scrolling past the notifications and pausing once he got to a certain notification.
It was a notification from you, your username displayed on his screen with a ‘liked your story’ beside it. Eren felt his heart flutter, it was just a small little interaction from you but it still left eren flustered. He did find it a bit odd though, you had a boyfriend and no guy would like it if his girlfriend was liking other men’s stories. Especially not pictures of other men shirtless.
He didn’t give a fuck though. That just means he was one step closer to having you.
Eren took a screenshot of your notification, to stare at it every time he’s feeling a bit down–to remind himself that the girl he’s currently chasing noticed him and knows he exists.
Eren was already working on getting rid of your boyfriend. So he could finally get the chance to slide into your dms again but he needs to have your boyfriend out of the picture; It was simple really, all he had to do was contact one of his closest female friends to get the job done.
And who would he speak to other than mikasa. One of the prettiest girls he knows, his childhood best friend. Texting her & telling her to do him a small little favor; to text your boyfriend and “befriend” him. She obviously refused the request, why would she break up a perfectly healthy couple? And to have you, an innocent sweet girl, fall for eren’s schemes. But after eren’s constant nagging and him threatening her to drop her and waste years of a long healthy friendship made her agree.
“mikasa_ackerman requested to follow you.”
Your boyfriend didn’t accept mikasa’s request until she suddenly messaged him;
“You’re cute. Think you can settle for two?” your boyfriend was confused, how does this stranger know what he looks like when his account is private. He didn’t question it any further though–not when he went through mikasa’s profile. Pale-skinned girl with gray eyes, shaggy black hair that reached her chin and bangs that added more to her looks, her well-toned body that made her more attractive than she already was.
Immediately accepting the request and following her back.
“Thank you, not sure about the ‘settling for two’ thing though.”
Sure, your boyfriend might’ve done the wrong thing by messaging her back instead of just ignoring her dm but come on, men will be men and having a cute girl in his requests–patiently waiting for him to text back, did not make him greater than any man.
They texted for a while, mikasa occasionally sending pictures of herself wearing a sports bra while at the gym or sending full body pictures to your boyfriend to make him fold. All to which were eren’s requests and of course against mikasa’s will. Feeling an aching feeling in her gut every time she had to text another girl’s man made her feel horrible about herself. She was no better than a homewrecker.
Your boyfriend didn’t cross the line while talking to mikasa, yeah sure he was hiding it from you but he wasn’t flirting back. Sometimes, occasionally, on rare events, he’d compliment her. Saying she has a well-built body or sometimes saying she’s “kinda” good looking. But that was all before he found out she lived in the same city as him.
As soon as he found out, the way he was treating mikasa all changed. Becoming flirty with her, washing her with compliments. Doing all that behind the “i heart my gf” profile picture and behind your back as well.
And it wasn’t long before you found out. Eren texted you from an anonymous account, making mikasa send him screenshots and even screen recordings of her and your boyfriend’s chat for more solid proof. You didn’t believe it at first, denying the proof presented to you.
Until you found yourself at your boyfriend’s apartment, tears stinging your eyes as you held up your phone to show him the screenshots displayed on the screen. Crying while asking him if they’re real and begging him to tell you they’re fake, that it’s just someone wanting to play with your feelings. But when you saw the look in his eyes, shame and regret. You broke down crying, asking him why’d he decide to ruin a perfectly healthy relationship over some girl he met online? Were you not pretty enough for him? Did she love him better than you did? Deciding to just leave and not hurt yourself any longer by staying here as your ex-boyfriend chases after you. Calling you and yelling for you to wait.
As soon as you got back home, you didn’t even bother changing clothes–laying down on your bed with your phone in your hands, watching as it buzzed from the calls your ex was spamming you with, along with his desperate text messages. You dragged your finger across the block button, not thinking twice as you pressed on it. Switching apps to block him everywhere. You even deleted the story highlight, removing him from your bio and deleting posts that he appeared in. When you were finally done, your eyes were red and puffy, swollen from crying too much.
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It’s been two days since the breakup and two days since you last posted on instagram. Eren knew that his vicious plan worked, having you dump your boyfriend and getting extra information about you; for example, where you’re settled at.
And what a lovely coincidence, you both live in the exact same city.
eren 🦇
Hey, everything alright? You haven’t been active lately.
Your phone lit up with a notification from; “ern_yger.” You stared at the notification for a while, debating whether or not you should respond to this random stranger who noticed your absence when even your own friends didn’t.
Unlocking your phone and tapping on his notification, dragging your fingers across the keyboard–thinking of a simple, fitting response.
Yeah I’m alright, I’ve just been busy with college.
You clicked send, not thinking twice about your response. Your message has already been seen by eren, you were left on read for two minutes before you saw him typing and while he took his time thinking of a response back you clicked on his profile. You were met with two highlights and zero posts, you clicked on his “me” highlight, feeling your mouth run dry once you were met with a picture of eren shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants and Calvin Klein boxers that peeked out. He was laying down on his side, the room was slightly dim but you were still able to makeout his face. The next one was a picture of his side profile, his hair was put up in a messy bun–his hair also looked soft and messy.
The other picture was taken from a slightly high angle, he was wearing white beaters with gray sweatpants. Once you were about to view the next story, you suddenly got a notification from eren which you accidentally clicked on.
“You sure? I noticed the missing highlights and change of bio.”
If you weren’t in the midst of trying to cope and move on from your past relationship, you would’ve noticed the fake acting concerned tactic men use to get any women they want and in this case, you were in the start of it. And deciding to fuck it and just pour your heart out to this random stranger because you really need it. Need someone to talk to right now and since none of your friends got time for you, you really appreciate eren reaching out to ask about your whereabouts.
You didn’t hold back, venting out your emotions and feelings about your situation. You didn’t leave out a single detail and made sure eren knew exactly how you’re feeling.
Eren was slightly taken aback by your reaction and willingness to share your private life with him. He even felt bad for you, you seemed genuinely upset and hurt but that still wouldn’t make him give up on chasing you. He comforted you for a bit, sending you long reassuring paragraphs. And eren slightly cringed at himself, he has never done this type of thing before—never in his life has he ever had a girl vent out her feelings to him and have him comfort her.
At the end you thanked him a lot for listening to you and apologizing for "being a bother" which eren responded with: “Not at all, I was the one who reached out first, don’t apologize.” You liked the message and thanked him once again before going on with your night.
It’s been three months since your breakup. And three months after you started talking to eren, he helped distract you from thinking about your past partner. He was funny, kind and understanding, everything you looked for in a man. You both even shared the same clothing style, music style and humor.
You didn’t have any bad intentions while talking to eren–you weren’t trying to use him to help you forget about your ex boyfriend. He was the one always texting first, asking you how you are, cracking jokes, sending you songs that he thinks you might like (you always end up loving them), sends you both movies & tv shows suggestions–he says they’ll help with distracting you and keeping your mind occupied from thinking about anything related to your past love.
While eren was the one filled with bad intentions and thoughts. First thing he did in the morning was check his phone for any notifications from you and if he got one, a wide smile would form on the corner of his lips–immediately unlocking his phone to respond back. And if he doesn’t receive a message from you, he’d unlock his phone only to be met with “sent 9 hours ago”, he’d aggressively throw his phone back to his bed. Sometimes gritting his teeth in anger and frustration, stressing over you not texting back.
But as soon as he does get a response back, he’d immediately forget all his anger and frustration from earlier. Telling you that it’s alright and to not apologize once you tell him how you fell asleep because you were too tired and ended up oversleeping which were followed by a bunch of apologies from you. And eren dismissed them, reassuring you by saying it’s okay and he really doesn’t mind—acting like he wasn’t absolutely losing his shit over you moments ago.
Second thing he does is go through your highlights. He has seen the pictures in the highlight multiple times but he still always ends up getting mesmerized by your beauty, way too much that he’d accidentally get turned on. An erection forming just by simply staring way too hard on your photos and eren couldn’t contain himself—pulling out his laptop and logging into his instagram and pulling out your highlight.
He’d zoom in on one specific picture, It was you laying down on bed while holding your camera high in the air–You were wearing a spaghetti straps pink tank top with baggy pajama pants. Your cleavage was all out and was very visible due to the high angle. Your face was mostly the main focus as you flashed the camera a small, warm smile.
Eren cupped his bulge, his breathing shifting from steady to unsteady, letting out shaky heavy pants as he lowered his slacks to where they stopped right beneath his knees. Eren’s eyes were heavy, his eyelids threatening to shut close as he started caressing the tip of his dick, kneading the tip roughly with his thumbs. Spreading his pre-cum all over the tip and slowly coming down to his shaft, massaging his hands up and down his length as his eyes were glued to the picture of you plastered on the screen in front of him.
A moan of your name slipped past his lips, his head slightly thrown back, his eyes were squinted–his hands wrapped around his cock as he messily jerked himself off. Curses and moans kept leaving eren the more he stared at your photo and the more his fantasies about you grew wild. Thinking about splitting you open with his cock while you whine and babble about how big he was, having you gush and cream all over his cock multiple times until you pass out from overstimulation.
Eren fastened his movements, squeezing the head of his cock as you kept flooding his mind and not even 5 minutes had passed and eren was already cumming all over his laptop screen. Staring at the bright screen with half-lidded eyes, his cum staining your picture that was displayed on the screen–he was letting out loud heavy pants, thinking up a way to make you his quickly and fast because eren can’t keep going on like this and it pains him knowing that he lives in the same city as you but still feels as if he was too far away from reaching you.
Eren’s phone lit up with a notification from you, a small smile spread across his lips as he stared back into his laptop screen before grabbing his phone and clicking on your notification. You sent him a couple pictures of yourself, asking him which one to post. Eren felt his heart flutter, staring at your photos in absolute awe. He clicked on each one of your pictures and saved them to his device.
He wanted to tell you to post all of them and that you look beautiful in each one of them but the idea of other men seeing your pictures ticked eren off, he didn’t want other men to see you, just the thought of it had eren boiling up with anger—with furrowed eyebrows, eren aggressively typed you a response back, a not very nice one.
“None. They’re not post worthy and the camera quality makes you look off,” which wasn’t true at all. Eren was sure that even with a poor camera quality you’d still manage to look good.
You stared at eren’s response for a while and then went and looked back at the pictures and the more you kept thinking about his reply the more his words started to seem true, maybe you do actually look kinda bad in these pictures…even though you finally got ready for the first time after the breakup. You did your hair, makeup and carefully selected an outfit for these pictures. You decided to just brush it off, you could take better ones next time.
“Oh okay! I won’t post them then.”
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It has now been six months. You and eren started talking more frequently and even started going on both regular and face-time calls. And eren couldn’t be happier, your voice was soft and soothing, every time you sent him voice messages of you ranting about your day to him, he’d melt from the sound of your voice, he’d replay the voice message multiple times throughout the day. Your voice brings him both comfort and easeniss.
But then again, eren was sick in the head. He was the definition of the word ‘deranged’ but you still didn’t know that yet.
The way he’d wrap his hands around his cock while you two were on a call together, he would be on mute as you talked to him about random things–thinking that eren was listening to you but he was more focused on rubbing his aching, hard cock to the sound of your voice.
Every time you notice the silence you’d ask him if he’s alright, concern visible in your tone. Eren would reply with a shaky, low; “y-yeah” accidentally stuttering which he cursed himself for it in his head. Fisting his cock rapidly as you went back to talking. Eren loves it when you have a bad day, he’d get the chance to hear you whine and complain, sometimes on the verge of tears as you rant to him about your bad day, it makes his cock hard against his pants.
11:10PM.
You posted a picture of you in your story but you weren’t alone in the picture, a young man who looked eren’s age with short, light ash-brown hair with the sides and back trimmed shorter; making them a darker hue. He had small, intense light-brown eyes. His hands were wrapped around your waist making both of your shoulders touch.
Eren’s eyes twitched in anger, his brows knitted together as he swiped up and replied; “Who’s this?” you immediately replied with “A friend of mine! :)” eren left you on delivered, his jealousy over-taking him as he kept looking back at the picture, the way you happily smiled at the camera and the way you willingly allowed that guy to touch you like that pissed him off. A lot of thoughts ran through his head, one of them was marking you and making you his already.
An idea popped up in eren’s head. Quickly grabbing his phone and opening up the chat between you two, completely ignoring what you said earlier and typing out; “You free this friday?”
You opened the text and looked at it in utter confusion.
y/n 🐐
what do you mean?
eren 🦇
I’m asking if you’re free this friday? You know, maybe come over to my place.
y/n 🐐
Come over? To your place? I’m sorry but i can’t.
eren 🦇
Why not? It’s finally time we meet up, don’tya think?
y/n 🐐
We could meet up anywhere else, it shouldn’t be your place.
eren 🦇
What? don’t trust me?
y/n 🐐
it’s not that, it’s just that i’ve never met you before.
eren 🦇
Well obviously you didn’t? but we went on facetime calls and we’ve been close friends for months now. I even helped you get over your ex-boyfriend and you still don’t trust me yet?
Eren stared at his screen for a while, hoping that his guilt tripping tactic works. And to his surprise, it did;
y/n 🐐
You’re right, i’m sorry. What time?
Eren lets out a long sigh that he didn’t know he was holding.
“7pm is good.”
Friday, 7:30PM.
You wore a simple pink dress that reached above your knees with black thigh highs and throwed in a plain black jacket to cover up a bit. You were outside of eren’s residence, your breathing thickened before you reached out to grab your phone to tell eren you’re here.
y/n 🐐
i’m here.
sent 7:35PM.
eren 🦇
doors’ unlocked
seen at 7:35PM.
Your brows furrowed together before you turned off your phone and walked towards eren’s doorstep, hesitantly–you slowly unlocked the door of his house. And once the door was wide open, you were met with an empty hallway, a fish tank that was filled with various colorful fishes that decorated said hallway. “Eren?” you whispered his name as you walked in and closed the door behind you, slowly proceeding further into his place.
You were inspecting the furniture, everything looked so luxurious–that you were afraid to touch anything. You heard chirping noises and decided to follow the sound, a mottled grey colored, medium-sized parrot with a vent and a tail. It had a large black bill and a white mask enclosing a yellow eye, as well as a striking red vent and a tail. An african gray parrot was just sitting there in a silver cage, with his food and water in front of it.
You were admiring the parrot before feeling a large figure pressing his back against yours– “his name is hook,” his voice was deep, it came out as a low murmur, you slightly flinched and turned to face him. “E-Eren?” the teal-eyed man looked straight into you, a warm smile making its way to his face, “mhm?” he went and stood beside you and you slightly moved away to make some space between the two of you.
“Hooks’ a nice name, ‘t fits him,” you turned your back towards eren and went back to admiring the parrot. “You think?” eren tried keeping his eyes at his pet parrot as well but the way the girl of his dream was standing right beside him, in his house, right at this moment–makes him unable to focus on anything that wasn’t you. He side-eyed you to take a quick glance at you, he noticed the height difference between you two, he loved it, it was cute. It turned him on.
Eren cleared his throat which made you turn towards him, “so, wanna come up to my room?” you paused for a moment to think about it before nodding your head. Eren led the way to his room as you walked behind him, giving you an opportunity to look around his place even more. And once you made it to his room, you were shocked by the amount of space and furniture it had. His room was big which made you wonder, why would he need all that space if he lives alone?
His bed was king-sized, it could possibly fit three-four people. He had some posters of his favorite bands, artists and games plastered on his walls, a desk that had his laptop placed on top as well as other random stuff, including studying stationery. His room was well organized and filled with lots of unnecessary stuff as well as another fish tank.
You kept looking around until you spotted a wooden door, thinking of what could be behind that door until it clicked to you–probably a bathroom. He probably doesn’t like going out of his room that much so he designed a bathroom that connected to his room.
“What’dya’ think?” Eren asked before plopping down on the black cushion that was placed beside his bed– “‘ts too big'’ you answered before seating yourself beside eren, he moved closer to you, looking down at your dress, his eyes darting from your top to your thighs, that were half-covered by those thigh-high socks you wore. “I guess but it’s not that bad, is it?” you nodded your head, trying to look at anything that wasn’t eren’s face since he was too close. Way too close that you could probably count his eyelashes from how close he was.
Eren backed up a bit, noticing how uncomfortable you were. Eren grabbed a can of beer from the wooden table and opened it, taking a huge chug out of the can. “Want some?” you gave eren a confused look mixed with a disgusted look, “i prefer water” he playfully rolled his eyes before getting up and placing the beer can on the table. “I’ll go get you some then,” you watched as eren went out of the room–his footsteps fading away.
You sat there patiently before your curiosity grew, wanting to go confirm your suspicions on what’s behind the huge wooden door. You got up, unconsciously walking towards it–you grabbed the handle and pushed it down slowly, making sure to not make any noise. Once you unlocked the door, you were met with a dim room–the only sort of light coming from the three monitors placed on another desk in the room. Three huge monitors that all opened to different tabs.
Deciding to just fuck it and proceed even further–accidentally stepping on something that made a slight crunch noise, looking down and picking it up only to be met with a pornographic comic that had dried up cum splattered all over it. You let go of it quickly, your face scrunching up in disgust as you walked towards the three huge monitors.
You bent down a little to be met with a picture of you which you have posted a while ago displayed on the screen, your throat ran dry once you noticed the gooey white stains on the screen–you looked to the right monitor, an instagram profile opened on it which was one of your years old instagram accounts that you used to own during your teenage years. And the left monitor had the guy you recently posted a picture with instagram account.
You let out a shaky sigh, the guy who you thought was naturally sweet, understanding & charming was the complete opposite. A complete creep, a weird perverted man.
“You caught me,” a mans’ voice came from behind you, making your heart stop for a second–you turned around to face him, eren had a wide smirk curved on the corners of his lips as he leaned against the doorframe, you weren’t sure for how long he has been there watching you but probably long enough to catch your full live reaction.
“What is the meaning of this?” your voice came out low as if you were completely terrified of speaking up; “I don’t know, you tell me” eren walked towards you, shutting the door behind him–you took a step back, your back hitting the wall, eren had completely cornered you giving you no way out. Eren took hold of your chin, forcing you to look back at him–he aggressively moved your chin to the side, allowing himself to give you a small kiss on the neck.
You fluttered your eyes shut, you didn’t try pushing him off as he started nibbling on your neck; covering it with hot, messy kisses. “I’ve been wanting to taste you for so long, been wanting to do this for so long,” eren confessed, making a pit of disgust form in your stomach. Eren slipped a hand under your shirt, squeezing your right breast from above your bra. “Eren please…stop,” you finally managed to say which eren turned a blind eye on, ignoring your pleas for him to stop.
“Come on baby, you’ve made me suffer long enough, don’t ya’ think? Always had to beat my dick to pictures of you but now I finally have you within my grasp, don’t you think I deserve a reward for my patience? Hm?” Eren got on his knees and spread your legs apart, he placed his middle finger on your clit through your panties and started cautiously moving his finger.
You looked down on him with half-lidded eyes, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you bit your lips to surpass any sounds from slipping. He moved your panties to the side and brushed his digits past your glistening folds before slowly pushing in two fingers into your tight hole, he teasingly started thrusting his fingers sometimes stopping mid-way but the way your slippery walls clamped down on his thick digits encouraged him to continue.
You were out of breath, wanting this to end quickly but the praises eren was muttering made it a tad bit better; “Ah, so good angel, gonna have you cummin’ all over my fingers soon, okay?” “fuck you’re so pretty, ‘ts makin’ my dick hard” he was plunging his fingers deeper into your messy cunt, your silk gushing and dripping all over his fingers. The squelching noises made eren’s cock slightly twitch in his pants as he imagined what kind of things he’ll be able to do to you from now on.
You couldn’t hold in your moans any longer–letting out your moans & whimpers freely as he kept thrusting his finger in n’ out of your pussy, “think..’m close!” you slightly arched your back and squirmed in your place, you placed your hands on your mouth to silent any moans from coming out as you gushed all over eren’s fingers. You were letting out heavy pants, you plopped down on the floor, your eyes glued together not daring to even try taking a quick glance at the mess you’ve made.
Eren lowered his sweatpants–enough for his cock to spring out and slap his abdomen, he moved his hips closer to your face and started rubbing his dick on the side of your cheeks which made you let out a whimper at the sudden warm feeling. “Open up, princess, ‘t hurts, y’know?” he pushed his cock against your lips, smearing his pre-cum all over your plump, glossy lips.
You swallowed your saliva before obeying and opening your mouth, your vision hazy which didn’t give you the chance to make-out eren’s girth. He shoved his cock into your mouth causing you to slightly gag, “s-so good, fuck,” you sloppily started sucking the tip, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head up and down his length. Swirling your tongue around his tip while drool dripped down your chin and coating his balls, you moan around his cock while eren lets out soft groans; “so cockhungry, huh?” he snickered–throwing his head back while he was still firmly gripping your hair.
He pushed his cock deeper into your throat causing you to choke a bit, tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably, eren started thrusting his hips against your mouth, his dick stretching your throat with every jolt of his hips. “S-Shit,” he sharply inhales, letting go of your hair and cupping both of your cheeks instead. You could feel his cock slightly poking at the side of your throat, a clear bulge.
Moving his hips in a slow, gentle manner–scared to hurt you but the way the head of his cock kept hitting your uvula which caused you to gag around his dick and ruin his steady pace, making his hips stutter and cock slightly pulsate as his shaft land flat on your tongue, “f-fuck, keep this up and i’m gnna’ be cumming all over your face” eren groaned, caressing your face while also letting out shaky moans.
His cock shuddered, twitching inside the warmth of your mouth, “Holy shit…” he mouthened before pulling out his dick with a ‘plop’ sound, your drool was connecting to his tip–your mouth hung open, your tongue stuck out, you were letting out heavy pants as you tried gasping for air. Without any warning, a sudden splash of warm, thick liquid covered your face. Managing to get on your tongue as well, the bitter taste made you flutter your eyes shut in disgust.
His sperm was burning your face, wanting to get it off of you fast and quick while eren was admiring your cum covered face. It stained your cheeks and dripped off your chin, your mascara melted and your lip-gloss got smeared all over your face. He was panting heavily but his gaze still focused on you, half-lidded eyes pierced through you.
“Did so good f’me,” he exclaimed, bending down and gripping your chin before pulling you into another messy kiss. Pulling out with a smug look, you looked back at him with a foggy vision–a small smile made its way to your face and eren heart stopped for a moment, the way you looked at him with droopy eyes, messy face and a smile on your face will forever be engraved deep into his mind.
“Stay here, ‘M gonna make some warm tea for your throat, alright? Clean yourself up, m’kay?” he kissed your forehead before going out and leaving the room, once again. You turned your head towards the monitor, your vision landing on the picture of you, the cum stains making you fill up with shame & guilt even though it’s not you who’s supposed to be feeling like this.
The sound of a notification coming from your phone pulled you out of your thoughts.
eren 🦇
*one image attachment*
Us after i destroy your uterus <3
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luveline · 2 years
Text
𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
You worry your boyfriend is ashamed of you. This is very much not the case. Or, 5 times Hotch hid your relationship (+1 time he didn’t).
7k words, new-ish established relationship, lots of fluff between angst, hurt/comfort, fem!reader, civilian!reader, reader calls him aaron mostly
༺༻
The security for Aaron's building is weird. Weird as in extensive, intimidating, and extremely intricate. 
You'd really wanted to minimise his stress — the whole reason you're here is to bring him a forgotten sheet of paper that must've slipped out at your kitchen table from one of his case files because you don't want him to have to make up a new copy — but you're too scared to go in. 
You pull your phone out reluctantly and dial in his number, eager to hear his voice even if the security detail a few feet away are freaking you out. 
"Hotchner." 
"Hi, handsome," you say softly. 
There's a small pause. For a split-second a nightmare situation runs through your head, his low voice asking, Who is this?
"Hi, honey." 
You beam so wide it aches, forcing a pleased little breath from your mouth. 
"What do you need?" he asks. 
"I'm outside of your building but I'm too afraid to come in. I'm not sure they'll let me. I need a badge, right?" 
"You're outside." 
You pick at the hem of your sweater, a loose thread marring your otherwise pretty outfit. You'll admit to dressing up unnecessarily to see him. Nice clothes, your most subtle perfume. 
"I found something confidential this morning, a piece of paper. I didn't read it, I promise."
"You really shouldn't be here," he says. 
Your smile abruptly drops. You press the phone closer to your face and wait, hoping he's not talking to you. When it's clear that he is you cringe, the silence pervasive and the most awkward it's ever been with him. 
"Sorry." Your apology is quick, quiet. "I thought it would be easier for you. I didn't mean to… overstep." 
"It's not that. It's busy. Would you hang on to it for me? Maybe I can come and get it tonight, bring dinner." 
You love how he says it. It's not a question, not an assumption. And it's a relief. If he wants to see you on a night where you hadn't planned to get together, he can't be mad at you for being here. 
"Yeah, please. If you want to." 
"I want to. Okay?"
Not for confirmation, it's shorthand. You okay? 
"Yeah. Okay. Have a good rest of your day, handsome." 
"Bye." 
You like to think you can hear the sound of his phone clicking shut, imagining him at his desk in one of his neat suits with a case file open in front of him. You're not sure on the specifics of his job but you know he looks good doing it, and you also know he's very, very busy. You don't take his clipped goodbye as anything but efficiency. 
Maybe you should. 
The next time Aaron inadvertently hurts your feelings is in person. 
Compared to him, you wouldn't say you're an incredibly exciting character. Your day job is tame, your hobbies are invaried. You like to watch TV, see movies, you enjoy people-watching. When you hold that stuff up to his job, his profiling, and his hobbies (seriously, who likes triathlon?) you feel rather immature. 
You know deep down that hobbies are hobbies and that your job doesn't define how special you are, but when you're with someone like Aaron who lives and breathes his profession it can play with your head. 
"Is there something interesting about my shirt?" he asks, a murmur under the sound of the TV. 
You look up from the hem of his nice button down and smile, a half-smile. You want it to be more genuine than it is. "Don't you already know?" 
"What do you mean?" 
"You can tell I'm…" You frown, dropping the starched material of his shirt from between your fingers. "I've given myself up, haven't I?" 
"A little," he concedes sympathetically. 
You huff your defeat and let your cheek fall into his chest. Nice to seek comfort from him, nicer for him to give it to you, his arm rising from behind your shoulders to hook around your neck. 
"I'm not profiling you," he says, voice close to the top of your head, "I'm wondering what you're thinking."
You relax under his touch, his big hand settling in the curve of your neck. A semi-hug. It doesn't take long for you to melt into his front completely, your unhappy thoughts dissolving with any tension and leaving only a want to kiss his stupidly nice neck.
"It doesn't matter," you say. 
"You sure?" 
You lift your head from his chest. He has to lean back to meet your eyes and he does it unflinchingly, a bemused smile playing on his lips. 
"I'm good. Better, if you would…" 
"Yeah?" he asks quietly, leaning down, down. 
You can't withstand his charms. He knows exactly how to get you, his smile and his eyes, his lashes kissing in the corners as they close. 
He's imposing in the best way, a heavy presence that overwhelms you. All you can think about is the way he nudges his nose with yours to encourage your head back and the heat of his lips as they touch your own. His arm tightens behind your head.
You try to rise onto your knees, hands vying for his neck and his pitch dark hair. You're doubly pleased when you feel his mouth turning up into a smile, a mirror of your own. 
"Slow down," he chides gently. 
You're about to say something unlike yourself, something loud and brash. Speed up, Hotchner. You're hopped up on the giddiness that comes with being close to him. You're just about to say it when his phone rings. 
He gives you a short, hard kiss. 
"Hotchner." 
You sit back in his lap, his hand sliding to the small of your back to keep you close as his face clouds with confusion. You attempt to climb off of him because you're not a sack of sugar — you're probably giving him numb thighs — but he won't let you.
"Garcia," he says eventually, "is this an emergency?" His tone makes it clear to you that whatever it is Garcia is saying, it's far from an emergency. 
His hand climbs up, over your shoulder. You shudder as he tugs your earlobe, a mild and thoughtless gesture. You're so busy shivering you almost miss his playful eye roll. 
"I haven't changed my mind. Yeah. Thanks for the invitation, but I'm perfectly happy where I am tonight." 
Whatever Garcia says makes him laugh. If you weren't sitting as close to him as you are you wouldn't have heard it. 
"Have fun. Bye," he says succinctly. He snaps his phone closed in one hand, the other dropping from your ear to your shoulder. It's heavy with a remorse you can't allow. "Sorry."
"Doesn't matter," you assure, tilting your head toward his hand and pretending to size him up. You don't know how to profile, but you're a good guess. 
"You're not telling me something." 
"No?" He blinks in surprise.
"No. You've been invited somewhere with your work friends, and you usually go. Why not tonight?" 
"I think that's obvious." 
"You don't have to flake on your friends for me, Aaron." 
He smiles as you say his name. "Like I told Garcia, I am perfectly happy where I am." 
You hide your face in his neck lest he see your doped up smile. "You have nice friends," you murmur, working your hands under the hem of his shirt. 
"I think you'd love Garcia after the infinitial terror." 
"I think I would too. She's good to you, after all. Makes me like her… Maybe one day we can all go out for drinks." 
You don't have to be a profiler to feel the way he tenses. 
"Yeah," he says. It sounds very much like Probably not. 
That's a strumming hurt. Aaron is so nice, so so nice, and he treats you like you're gold dust. He does all the movie boyfriend stuff like flowers, silver earrings on your birthday (with tiny diamonds!), dinner reservations at dauntingly fancy restaurants. And he does stuff you didn't know men did, like calling you near every night to make sure you had a good day, and praising even your smallest achievements, and leaving notes in places he knows you'll find them on hard days. You don't know how he knows when days are hard, he just does. 
You'd figured all of this stuff meant he must really like you, might even love you though he's yet to say it, and that's why his lack of enthusiasm stings. 
Why doesn't he want you to meet his friends? He's obviously very proud of what they do at the BAU. They're not the issue. 
It's you. 
You cuddle him as a pit forms in your chest. 
"You're tired?" he asks.
Funny how it's his comfort you crave when he's the one who's hurt your feelings. You're a little lopsided being upset with him, and you know if you tell him how you feel he'll try to make it up to you, but you're too afraid of the other alternative — a fight. Right now his arms are a sanctity you wouldn't trade for anything. You hope he feels the same. 
You're not sure anymore. 
"Yeah," you say roughly. 
Your eyes burn as he pats your back. "Let's go to bed, honey." 
You'll just… have to prove you're someone worth showing off. 
Your plan, loosely titled 'Get Aaron Hotchner to Show Me Off,' is going about as well as you'd thought it would. 
If Aaron doesn't want me to meet his friends there must be a reason. You've been thinking about it and it can't be a coincidence that he hadn't wanted you to return his paperwork a few weeks ago. That must've been something significant. 
But what? 
You start with your hair. Aaron has expressed a lovely and heaping handful of times that he thinks you have pretty hair. He plays with it often, usually when he's limp and tired from a long day. You've always taken care of it. Now you're going to the extreme — hair masks, hair appointments you can't afford, anything to make it look perfect. 
It doesn't work toward the plan, though your boyfriend certainly notices. 
"Your hair," is the very first thing he says when he sees you, stopping only in his smiling assessment to kiss your cheek in greeting. 
"Is it okay?" you ask, turning your face to one side. 
"More than okay. Do you want to go in?" 
So it's kind of a bust. But that's okay, you weren't expecting to get a haircut and magically be invited to team dinners. You persevere, and eventually you forget the plan for the night when Aaron promises to show you how much he likes your new look with a hand at the small of your back. 
Phase two, your clothes. 
You dress as nicely as you can but you're no fashion guru and you can't afford an entirely new wardrobe. You get a bunch of magazines and look for fall staples. What's in this year, and how do you style it? You buy a couple of pieces that fit your budget and try to work around them. 
Aaron's favourite are the new corduroy pants. They aren't a great fit. 
"They're too tight," you lament, pulling the fabric from your thighs where they hug snugly. They're a desaturated sort of burgundy, not bright by any means but a good 'pop of colour'. 
"I know," he says. 
You gawp at him, and when he gets his fingers on the buttons afterward, you break. 
"You like them?" you ask worriedly. 
"What makes you think I don't?" 
"Besides how eager you are to get them off of me?" 
He hooks two fingers in your belt loops and holds your gaze as he tugs them down. "I like them." 
A good time, but still no dice. You suppose a new look, besides looking smarter, doesn't actually prove your merit as a girlfriend. Maybe he wants something a little more concrete before he introduces you to people. Maybe things aren't as good for him as they are for you, and he doesn't see the point. 
That particular thought sparks a wave of panicked tears. 
The next time you see him, it's like he can tell. You wonder if he has x-ray vision, some sixth sense for tear stains that he has yet to tell you about. He's been gone for a few days in St. Louis, and when he'd come back he'd spent the weekend with Jack, so it's a whole seven days since the last time you saw him and your worries have festered. Not even his doting phone calls had kept the thought at bay. 
Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 
You open your door and there he is in a quarter zip with an overnight bag, matte suit cover draped over one arm. 
"Hi," you say, unsure. 
"Did I get uglier while I was away?" he asks seriously. 
You startle. "No, of course not." 
He smiles and meets you in the doorway, your head dipping back to accommodate. "I think I've had it too good," he says lightly, bringing a tentative hand to your cheek. "Are you okay?" 
You're trying to work out what he means, and when you do your heart skips. "Handsome!" you say urgently. "Hi, handsome. No, you didn't get uglier, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, and-" 
He kisses you. It's malaligned because of your parted lips, but it's good. You'd really missed him. 
"You're definitely still handsome," you murmur. 
"Doesn't count. I begged for it-" 
"No!" you deny, lifting on tiptoes to give him another kiss and stop his slander. "It does count because you're always handsome, I promise. I think I slept too much and miswired my brain when I woke up." 
"I don't mind that you didn't call me handsome," he says firmly, "now let me in. We have dinner to make." 
"Right, sorry."
Aaron frowns at you, then. It's weird. He frowns at his phone, at the TV, at nothing, but he doesn't frown at you. 
"Is something wrong?" he asks as you traverse down the hall. You hold your hands out for his suit and bag to take to your room and hang up, ignoring his question. He doesn't give them to you. "Is there?" 
"No." You smile as you say it. 
You're an awful liar, especially with him. He makes you more nervous than anyone because he's your boyfriend and because he's a literal human lie detector. 
"You didn't even try." 
You cover your face with both hands and groan dramatically, spinning around and away from him. You don't want him to see how flustered you are. 
"Don't make fun," you beg. 
"You're embarrassed." 
"Teach you that at the Bureau, do they?"  
You stop in the doorway of the kitchen, distracted by your own racing thoughts when suddenly there are two long arms needling around your waist and pulling you backward. You gasp a laugh and squirm uselessly to escape. 
"I'm sorry," he says quietly. 
You tip your head back, hands falling from your face in surprise. "What for, handsome?" 
His laugh fans out over your face but when he speaks again there's no humour there, only sincerity, "For being gone so long." 
"Well don't be. You can't exactly help it, Agent Hotchner," you hum. 
"Oh, don't." 
"Going out and saving the world takes time. I knew that when I met you, 'n I know it now. You don't have to say sorry." 
"I'm not apologising for my work. I'm apologising that we've," — his nose presses into the highest point of your cheek — "been apart." 
"I did miss you," you relent. 
He presses his lips to your cheek. "I missed you too." 
It's a nice distraction. You'd missed one another, and now you're together. You forget for a while what you'd worried, and only when he leaves again do you remember. 
Maybe I'm not a good girlfriend. 
You're not stupid enough to think Hotch is using you for anything, or that he's insincere. You're level-headed, though. His affection for you isn't necessarily permanent no matter how genuine. 
You don't want to be overbearing. The offers start slow. 
I can wash that for you. Of course I'm sure, I'm great with whites. 
Maybe I could make you lunch tomorrow. You can take it in, spare yourself the federal cafeteria. 
Yeah, I got them shined for you. They were looking a little dull at the toes. 
"Do you want me to press these?" you ask. 
Aaron looks up from where he's sitting in bed. You'd been out on a foray to the bathroom and have come to a stop by his bedroom door where a pair of black slacks hang in wait for the morning. 
He pushes a darling pair of reading glasses up the bridge of his nose. "No." 
"Are you sure? It won't take five minutes." 
"I'll do it in the morning." 
"I can do it for you, then. Just wake me up," you say, pushing back the sheets on the empty side of his bed. Your socked foot bumps his thigh as you pull up your legs. "What are you reading?" 
He puts his book on the nightstand, takes off his glasses. It's too bad. He really suits them.
"I want to talk to you about something." 
You laugh and slide down onto the flat of your back. 
"What?" he asks, confused, the tiniest hint of amusement in his eyes. 
"It's unlike you to start that way. You always cut around the fat." You bring his bed sheets up to your nose and squint at him. "'M I in trouble?" 
"Depends." 
"On what?" 
"You know I care about you." 
Your heart somersaults. That feels very much like a break-up opener, and he must see your anxiety on your face. He wrangles your hand from under the sheets and leans over you, his face in your eyeline, his fingers massaging yours until they ache in the good way. 
"Do you know how much?" he asks. 
"Is that a trick?" 
"No." 
You wait in case there's something he's going to add. When there's nothing, you pull the sheets to your chin and tamp down your perplexed pouting. 
"Yeah, I know how much." 
"I'd like to tell you how much." He pulls your joined hands toward his jaw. "I know I'm not always here, but I'm always thinking of you. In roundabout ways." 
"What ways?" you ask. Self-indulgence.
Aaron Hotchner indulges you. 
"I see," — he kisses your hand — "trees. I've seen a thousand trees, but when I see the bigger ones I wish you could see them too." 
It's a dropping sensation, near uncomfortable, that's how gutted his confession makes you feel. "You do?" 
"Sometimes women walk past me and I swear that it's you because they smell like your perfume. Flowers growing through cracks in the sidewalk. Lights through the jet window." It's the kind of stuff you like to point out to him when you're together. 
He stares at you, a long, reassuring look. 
He deserves a better reply, but all you can say is, "I think of you all the time, too." 
"I love that you want to take care of me, but you don't need to wear yourself out." 
You bite the inside of your bottom lip. So that's what this is about. Aaron has profiled you, and now he's being the gentleman that he is and assuaging your fears. 
"I'm not," you say quickly. 
He understands that you're saying I'm not wearing myself out rather than I'm not taking care of you. You are taking care of him, the best that you can, the best that he'll allow. 
"I can press my own pants," he says, leaning down for a kiss. "I can shine my own shoes." He kisses you again. You screw your eyes closed as the warmth of his breath heats your cupid's bow. "I can do my own laundry." He pulls back, dropping your hand in favour of your neck. His thumb pushes against your windpipe gently, palm hot over your skin. "I'll accept the lunches, if you're sure you don't mind making them." 
You feel as excited as you did the very first time he touched you, chest full of a dizzying pleasure, heart bump-bump-bumping a racing rhythm. His thumb strokes a lazy quarter circle into your neck. He can probably feel your pulse, see the way your eyes have blown. 
"I love making them," you say, breathless in earnest.
"The team think I'm spoiled." 
"You aren't spoiled." You're adored, you want to say. You cup his cheek instead. "You'd be spoiled if I brought them by everyday." 
Aaron doesn't stay with you and you don't stay with him enough to make him lunch everyday. He might get one or two a week, and that's when he's home. 
"Wouldn't that be nice," he mutters, his fingers pushing between your neck and the pillow underneath. 
You hike up on to your elbows slowly to avoid headbutting him. "Well, I could." 
His easy, loving smile flattens. "No." 
"I wouldn't mind. My lunch break is super long and it only takes me ten minutes to get there. We could have lunch together." 
"That's not going to work." 
"Okay." You wish you could take it as calmly as he says it. You sound choked up. You are choked up. 
"Sweetheart, the office is a war zone. Half the time I'm not there." 
"I get it," you say, dropping flat onto your back again. 
"Sweetheart." 
"Handsome," you mirror, putting on your best unaffected smile. 
You can't hold it very long, his concerned brows too much to deal with. You turn your head to the left and turn off the lamp on the nightstand, throwing at least half of your expression into darkness. 
Aaron doesn't give up. Does he ever? He cups your cheek and pulls you back to face him. 
"I can't promise any lunch dates. But I was thinking we'd go out for dinner next week, Friday," he begins hopefully, "somewhere nice." 
It feels like an apology and you're desperate to take it. 
"I don't need somewhere nice, s'long as you're there 'n not in Kansas, or Colorado, or Idaho, or New Jersey-" 
He hums and drops his head until his nose lies against your own. "Gonna go through all fifty?" 
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Hotchner?" 
"I love your voice," he says agreeably. 
Disarmed, you let him charm you, and you let him push it all out of your mind. Plan foiled, your fears fall on the backburner for a third time. 
His fourth rejection is the first that feels entirely intentional, though you won't know until later. 
Mostly because Aaron pushes you. 
Far from cruel, the two of you are actually out walking in the city when he forces you into an alleyway, your fancy drink sloshing down the front of your sweater. 
You laugh in surprise and almost roll your ankle, hands clinging to his coat to stop an unfortunate fall. 
"Holy shit, Hotchner, learn to be a gentleman," you say as he presses up against you. "What are you doing? I'm soaked, you're gonna ruin your sleeves." 
He kisses you hard. It's a surprise, your head jumping back against the wall to find his hand already there to protect it. 
It's worth noting that Aaron is a sweetheart in practically every aspect of life. He once apologised after having walked in on you changing, which is ridiculous because most of the nights where you're together he insists on getting you some sort of undressed (even if it's just to help you into your pyjamas).
Needless to say, he's never kissed you like this. Your emotions spike so suddenly you laugh into his mouth, a girlish peel of giggles that you'll regret afterward but can't stop for the life of you. 
He shushes you. "Sorry," he whispers, as ill-composed as you've ever heard him. "Sorry, just-" He cuts you both off with another bruising kiss. 
Your laughter fades into sighs and little gasps for air. Somewhere near the alleyway opening a group of people pass by, a jovial series of cheers and friendly laughter trailing behind them. Aaron presses you further into the wall behind, and slowly, slowly winds down. Weirdly, you think his last couple of pecks feel sorry, softer and sweeter. 
Your lips buzz. 
"Why'd you buy me that fancy drink if you were gonna tip it all over me?" you ask good-naturedly when he finally pulls back. 
"You looked too nice today." His deadpan voice wars with the smile on his face. "I'm sorry. We'll go find you something to change into." 
"Was it really that important that you kiss me right then?" you ask, feigning disdain. 
He looks out toward the main street again. "Yes. Where do you want to go? There's a Nordstrom." 
You take a sip of your drink, unsurprised when he takes your hand and starts to lead you toward the department stores. "Have you ever been inside of a Nordstrom?" 
"I'm sure I'll figure it out."
— 
The fifth time is the straw that breaks the camel's back. Or the brick. It feels heavier than a strand of straw. It's technically already come to pass, so it's an invisible brick. 
You're out for coffee by yourself which really means you're out for something sweet, bundled up in a coat and scarf to fight the night-time chill. 
"Thank you," you tell the barista, accepting your drink and receipt with a smile. 
You turn around and almost walk straight into a pretty dark-haired woman with really nice hair. You make a note to tell Aaron about it when you see him next, not because he'll care but because he likes to hear what you've been thinking about. And right now, all you can think about is her feathered bangs. 
I want nice bangs, you think offhandedly. 
"I'm sorry," you say, trying to move around her. 
She steps into your path. 
"Sorry," you say again. 
She's squinting at you, thin eyebrows peeking out from behind her hair. "Sorry, have we met?" she asks. 
You try not to be too hasty, but you're not sure you've ever seen her. You stare at her as she stares at you, and you get a tiny inkling of familiarity, but it's gone as quick as it comes. 
"I'm really sorry, I don't think so," you murmur, tilting your head to one side. 
She bites her lip, let's it go. "Oh!" she says excitedly, voice bright with triumph. "Oh oh oh! I know who you are, you're Hotch's mysterious girlfriend!" 
Your smile turns quizzical. You know nearly everybody calls Aaron 'Hotch'. Whenever you try it he either gives you the silent treatment or covers your mouth with his hand. 
"I'm Emily Prentiss, I work in the BAU," she explains rapidly, shoving her purse under her hand to offer it for a handshake. 
You do the same and shake her hand. Introducing yourself feels awkward. She knows you. You don't have a clue who she is. Only- 
"Oh, I know who you are now, I'm sorry I didn't recognise you before!" you say contritely. "I've seen photos of you and the team together. It's really nice to meet you." 
She nods. "It's nice to meet you too. I have to say, we've been dying to meet you. We even have a betting pool on what you're like, because Hotch barely says a thing about you." 
You try not to look as devastated as you feel, re-wrapping your fingers around your cup. "No?" 
"We didn't even know what you looked like until we saw you the other day. We came looking to say hi and you'd disappeared." 
You lick your dry lips. "The other day?" 
"Yeah, last Friday. We were out for impromptu drinks, celebrating a case. You know, you should come with sometime. It would be fun." 
Emily talks each word with an undertone of good humour. She's stunning, bubbly, and her hair flows around her face with every movement. 
"He really doesn't talk about me?" 
Emily drops into girl code niceties, backtracking. "I mean, not too often. We catch him smiling at his phone and hear your voice sometimes when you call. He seems happy. Well, happy as Hotch can seem." She swallows. "He's a private creature."
He doesn't talk about me. 
You pretend to check your watch. 
"It was really good to meet you," you say, voice airy with a feigned nonchalance. 
"Yeah, of course. Super nice," Emily says. 
You smile at her. It's more like a grimace. By the time you're outside of the coffee shop you're too upset to care, a humiliated shock of tears brewing behind your achy eyes. 
You hold your cup to your chest and unzip your purse to tuck the receipt inside, trying to maintain some control. There's a folded note inside, thick cardstock quartered. 
You take it out. Your fingers tremble with offended adrenaline. 
You're beautiful. 
Short, sweet, extremely Aaron Hotchner. Too bad you can't believe it. 
Emily Prentiss being out and about means the BAU are done for the night, though whether your workaholic boyfriend got the memo is anyone's best guess. You're not sure if it's better or worse if he's in work when you call. You're so upset that you can't help yourself. 
"Hi, honey." 
"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" you ask, staving off tears with all your willpower. 
"I wouldn't write it if I didn't mean it. That one took you a while to find, I was-" 
"Are you sure?" 
"...Are you okay?" 
You glare up at the dark sky rather than answer, blinking hard to force down your tears. You really don't wanna cry, but it's been a bad day and meeting Emily has made it worse. No matter how hard you try to think otherwise, all signs point to Aaron being ashamed of you. Embarrassed to be with you. He's hiding your relationship from everybody. 
"Am I- Is it my clothes? My job?" 
"What's wrong with your clothes?" 
"You tell me, detective." 
You're getting angry. He's- he's lying, or he's messing with you. He's making fun of you. At least that's how it feels. 
"Where are you right now?" he asks. You can picture him shrugging on his suit jacket, putting his files in order to come and meet you. 
You don't want to see him. "I'm at the coffee shop by your apartment. I actually ran into somebody, and I'm feeling very well-informed." A first tear bumps down your cheek. You ignore it. 
"I don't understand." 
"I don't understand! What am I doing wrong?" You bite your tongue in last ditch efforts to remain intact, but the tears won't hold off any longer. You swallow a sob. "What's wrong with me?" 
"Nothing. Nothing, honey, nothing is wrong with you." 
You wipe your wet face with mean hands. 
"Stay where you are. I'll come and meet you." 
"No. I don't wanna see you." 
"Honey-" 
"Leave me alone, Aaron." 
You hang up. You walk for a while, feeling as though steam is rising off of your flushed skin with every clumsy step. It had been a short phone call and already you can't remember what you said, all you can feel is angry, and then that runs out and all you can do is cry. 
You've never felt incredibly attractive. Aaron makes you feel better than that — he has the uncanny ability to inspire self-confidence with a loaded look alone. He can smile at you and your skin feels like it's glowing. 
So why doesn't that translate? If he thinks you're so pretty, why does he insist on hiding you away?
Because that day, he'd seen his friends. He could've introduced you but he took you down the alley and kissed you so you wouldn't be seen. That's not too busy: That's secretive. 
That kiss. You fooled yourself into thinking you must've looked irresistible. Fuck. You went home that night thinking you were the best thing since sliced bread. 
"I'm so stupid," you mutter, sniffling. 
Your self deprecation is muffled by the sound of a slowing car. You don't look up. There are two possibilities for who it is, and you don't want to deal with either. 
The car parks and then you do look up. Despite how mad you are you're not suicidal, and Aaron's given you extensive coaching on sex trafficking. 
It's him. Shocker. 
You're half-expecting him to reprimand you. You didn't look up until I parked. You know it takes five seconds to snatch and incapacitate someone? 
He looks haphazardly put together. Suit jacket on but tie loosened, he rounds the hood of his car and joins you on the sidewalk. You don't want to play games with him. He really doesn't need it, he didn't sign up for it, and drama isn't your style, but you're sick of this. 
"You want to tell me what you're thinking?" he asks, standing an amicable two feet away, hands at his hips.
"I'm really mad." 
"What else?" 
"I'm thinking," you say, looking down at your cold hands, "that you… That you're…" You rub your cheek into your shoulder to hide a fresh tear. "I don't know, Aaron. I'm thinking lots of things." 
"Do you want to think about them in the car?" he asks. 
Do you want to talk about it?
You don't want to talk about it. You don't like crying in front of him on a good day. 
You're pretty sure he'll combust on the spot if he knows you're walking home alone in the dark and distracted. 
You get in the car. He has the good sense not to touch your shoulders like he normally would. 
You buckle as soon as you've closed the passenger side door. "I'm sorry," you mumble, looking down at your knees. 
"Let's forget that, for now." He turns the key but doesn't pull out. "Tell me what's upset you and I'll explain." 
"I met Emily Prentiss." 
He looks at you out of the corner of his eye.
"She told me that you don't talk about me. Ever. That they didn't even know what I looked like." 
You know he's listening but he keeps his eyes on the road, and you chance a look at the side of his face. He doesn't seem mad. 
"I don't talk about you often," he says. "But that doesn't mean never… It's true that they didn't know what you look like." 
"Until last week, when they saw us together and you pulled me into an alley so they couldn't see me." 
"Yes." 
Your lower lip trembles. "Do you see why that would upset me?" You're asking genuinely. 
"Yeah, honey." 
Your head jolts up. He's diverting his gaze from the road to you intermittently, offering up a regretful grimace. The oncoming headlights splash over his work worn face. 
"Then why are you doing this? What's so wrong with me that you won't even admit we're together?" 
"Nothing is wrong with you. I'm not ashamed of you," he says firmly, volume rising. 
"Then why?" 
His eyebrows pull together. "You're the best person I've ever met that isn't my son, and I selfishly don't want to share you yet. I also don't want to scare you off." 
You pull your sleeves over your hands and turn in your seat, wiping your damp cheeks as he continues. 
"My job is hard, and it's dangerous. It has jeopardised the safety and wellbeing of people I love before. So no, I'm not eager to introduce you to my world. The more intertwined with my life that you become, the more danger I put you in, and…" The car slows down again. He turns to look at you. "And I like that I'm the only one who knows you like this.
"I have been hiding you. I have. But it was a," — his tone turns wry — "misguided attempt at keeping you all to myself. Safe, and to myself." 
You're finding it difficult to be mad with him. 
He's finding it difficult to maintain his poker face. A fat tear rolls down your cheek and you're not sure what it's made of, fatigue or relief or plain hurt, whatever it is he doesn't like it. He pulls over. 
You hold still as he pinches the tear off of your chin. 
"How long have you felt like this?" 
"Like what?" you ask wetly. 
"Like this." He opens his hand against your cheek. It encompasses your face; you lean in, hungry for reassurance. 
"I don't know." 
"This is why you changed your hair. Your clothes. And started making my lunch." 
You cover his hand with your own. "I actually really like making your lunches." 
You stare at each other until suddenly you're laughing, sniffly, short of breath. Aaron joins in soon after. He always sounds so surprised to be laughing.
"I'm glad," he says when your laughter has abated, pinky and ring finger caressing down the slope of your cheek. "I really like having them. Rossi can't hide how jealous he is." 
"They know about the lunches?" 
His mindless petting pauses. "They know about the lunches. You're not a secret. I'm… selfish with the details. I'm selfish." Aaron takes back his hand. "I'm sorry." 
You take as deep a breath as you can. "Okay." 
"Yeah?" 
"Mm. Can we go home?" 
His eyebrows jump and swiftly smooth again. "Yeah, we can go home." He chucks your chin and gets the car moving again. 
You watch him drive. 
When you get home, he doesn't mind reassuring you some more. Actually, it's like he needs to do it. You'd love to say that it's overkill and that his low murmurings of praise are unnecessary, but you can't. 
"You're lovely," he says seriously across two plates of pasta. Again through the mirror when you're brushing your teeth, and again when you've curled into his chest for the night. You're lovely. Nothing that needs hiding. 
You hear him on the phone early in the morning, half asleep. 
"Hey, Dave. Yeah. Okay. Uh… No, that's fine." He laughs under his breath. "Yeah, if she was awake I'd ask her to make you one. I think she would… Okay. See you in forty." 
You bury your tired face into his pillows and beam. 
+1 
Aaron's office is terrifyingly hectic. You can see already that the bullpen is full to bursting with agents, including but not limited to his special team of profilers. There's the distinct smell of coffee, sharp and burning, and then the underlay of printer ink, new paper. 
You can't believe you're here. 
You're not brave enough to introduce yourself to his team, and half aren't at their desks anyways. You hover in the doorway until somebody needs to get past you, taking a reluctant step inside.
You shouldn't wait for Aaron. You should be brave. You're a grown up, and you're bringing your grown up partner his very grown up lunch. You'd wanted desperately to do this. The least that you can do is do it by yourself. 
You've scrapped most of the fall staples but kept the burgundy pants Aaron likes so much at his request. They feel insanely tight on your thighs, as does your collar. In fact, the room has definitely shrunk since you got here. 
Like an idiot, Aaron says your name loud and clear, standing with a hand on the railings at the top of the instep. You hadn't even noticed him emerging from his office.
His voice demands — commands — attention. People turn in their seats, first toward him, and then toward you. 
All eyes on me. 
You don't run but you don't walk either, weaving through desk chairs and people looking a mix of busy and curious.
"You're being cruel," you say as you approach him, a brown paper bag held close to your abdomen. 
"Hi, honey," he says. He wears a knowing smile, all dark and tall and handsome as he starts down the stairs to meet you. 
"Don't punish me." 
"Is that what you'd call this?" he asks, hand quick to clasp your shoulder, glueing you in place so he can kiss your forehead.
And yes, this is what you'd wanted. The doting boyfriend not just at home but at work, too.
That doesn't mean it isn't really, really embarrassing. 
"Is everyone looking at me?" you murmur. 
He slips his arm behind your shoulders to walk you up the stairs. "Yes." His voice drops lower. "At one place specifically, I imagine." 
"What part is that, Agent?" 
He laughs and opens his office door to beckon you inside. "Don't start." 
༺༻
my first hotch fic omg. i did a big character study beforehand but i doubt it's entirely in character, hotch is a difficult character to write for! (and im only at season 4). but this was so fun and he's hot so it's worth it. if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging! i promise it makes a difference to me (and also i love seeing what people thought). thank you for reading!! ♥
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corroded-hellfire · 3 months
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The Bunny and the Hair - Eddie Munson x Reader
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Summary: All you want is a cute photo of your daughter in her bunny costume and a photo of the whole Munson family together. But nothing is simple when the children of Eddie Munson are involved
Note: Happy Easter! Thank you to my darlings @munson-blurbs and @offensiunculaee for helping me brainstorm ideas when the only thing in my head was Eliza dressed as a bunny 💕
Words: 1.2k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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“Aww, come on sweet pea. Give me a smile.”
Your five-month-old daughter does the very opposite of that. It seems that Eliza Munson has somehow perfected the art of giving a piercing glare before mastering sitting up on her own without being a little wobbly. 
The fuzzy white bunny suit she’s in, hood with ears and all, paints the most adorable picture you’ve ever seen. It would be even cuter if she would flash a brief look of glee for a single photo. This Easter is warmer than it’s been in the last few years and it’s easy to understand that she’s getting hot, which is making her cranky. But you just want one good picture. 
“Just one little smile for Mommy? Please?” You raise the small silver camera to your eye before remembering that this new fancy one has a digital screen where you can see what the picture will look like without squinting through a little hole. 
Deciding to start snapping shots and see what happens, your forefinger presses the small shiny button that makes a soft click after click. A giggle bubbles out of you as you notice your baby getting grumpier and grumpier with each shot. A flipbook would be a perfect place to put these photos and flip through them to see Eliza Hulk-out in real time. 
She is getting officially fed up now. 
“Boys?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder to where your husband and sons stand, watching your attempt at an infant photo shoot. “Can you make her smile so I can get one good shot? Then I’ll get her out of that.”
If anything can make Eliza laugh, it’s her brothers. Particularly Luke, he likes to remind people. 
“Sure,” Ryan says, looking around for any prop to assist him. His brown eyes snag on the eggs on the coffee table, the ones you and the boys had been in the middle of preparing to be dyed before Eddie came out with Eliza in all her fluffy glory. “Hey! Liza! Watch this!” He catches the baby’s eye and picks up one of the boiled eggs and jumps up, pretending to crack it over Eddie’s head. It brings a small smile out of your daughter. 
“Hey, hey!” Luke says, waving his arms to attract his little sister’s attention. “Eliza, look!” The younger Munson boy grabs an egg and props one socked foot on the edge of the coffee table to leverage himself up high enough to copy Ryan’s actions.
“Oh, Luke, that one wasn’t–”
Your warning comes too late. The ten-year-old had picked up one of the eggs that had yet to be boiled in preparation for decorating. This comes to light when Luke crushes the egg over his father’s head and runny yolk and gooey egg whites plop down onto Eddie’s hair and drip down his frizzy curls. 
The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room. All eyes are on Eddie as his shoulders bunch up towards his ears and his jaw drops open, a small dollop of yellow yolk falling onto his salt-and-pepper scruff. It’s hard to tell how long the room is frozen, silent until—
Furious giggles come from behind you and it breaks the tension that kept the four of you rooted to your spots. You whip your head around to see Eliza laughing so hard that she loses her balance and flops down onto her side, unable to remain sitting up straight on her own. Quickly, you’re able to set her up right again and grab the camera getting a few shots of her, giddy as can be in her bunny suit. 
Relieved that’s taken care of, you now turn back to look back at your husband, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Neither has Luke. 
It’s obvious to you by the look on Eddie’s face that he can tell that it was an accident, but your son is wide-eyed in fear, clearly not getting the same sense. 
“E-Eliza, say bye-bye to Luke cause Dad is gonna kill me,” Luke says softly, never taking his bright blue eyes from his father’s egg-covered form. 
Eddie takes a step towards Luke slowly, clearly wanting to keep Luke in suspense until the last second, before he wipes a large glob of the sticky egg goo from his own hair and rubs it into the little boy’s messy curls. A maniacal laugh erupts from deep within Eddie as he tugs Luke against his chest, not letting his son get away as he squirms and squeals, trying to escape the shared messiness. Despite his protests, when Luke pulls back and looks up at his dad, he’s laughing. 
Watching the two of them in amusement, you put your hands on your hips and shake your head. Never a dull moment with the Munson men. The two of them continue to rub egg on one another as you turn towards the only clean boy in the house.
“Ryan, can you go get Eliza out of her costume? Last thing we need is her overheating.”
“Yeah, you get cranky enough already,” Ryan tells his baby sister as he scoops her up. Eliza gives a little harumph, but you think that’s more from the way the twelve-year-old holds onto her tightly than offense at his words. 
You set the camera down on the coffee table, making sure it isn’t near any of the eggs.
“Damn,” you say. “Forgot to get a family picture.”
“We’ll take one when Ry and Eliza come back out,” Eddie says, dodging Luke’s sticky fingers. 
“That’s gonna look great with you two looking like you fell in a vat of slime,” you say with a laugh. 
Your husband and his mini me only continue to get messier until you hear Ryan’s footsteps coming back down the hall toward the living room. The moment your eyes land on your daughter’s new ensemble, you have to do a double take. Eliza is beaming in her brother’s arms, wearing her bright pink bathing suit covered in large, white polka dots. 
Left speechless, your eyes widen and you’re only able to gesture with your hands towards the swimsuit.
Ryan shrugs as he hefts his sister up on his hip. “She grabbed it when I opened her drawer. And you said you didn't want her overheating.”
Your gaze slides from Eliza, over to Luke and Eddie, then back to Ryan.
“You and I are going to be the ones who stick out in the Easter picture,” you tell your oldest. “We look normal.”
“You mean we don’t look normal?” Luke asks, jumping on his dad’s back and scrunching up the man’s eggy curls. 
Sighing and shaking your head in amusement, you snatch up the camera and fiddle with it until you set the timer for three minutes. The entertainment unit is the perfect height to rest the camera so it can get a good shot of the whole family. You set it on the shelf right above the television and nod your family over toward where the lens is facing.
Eddie, still sporting Luke as a backpack, walks over and stands on your right. Ryan, carrying a still-beaming Eliza tucks into your left side. It’s impossible not to look over the gang around you, letting out a laugh as you take in the chaotic bunch.
“Smile!” Luke instructs everyone.
Eddie slips his hand around your waist and pulls your side flush up against his, squishing some of the egg whites against you, causing you to let out a squeal of laughter just as the flash of the camera goes off. Your husband grins and presses a big wet kiss on your cheek
“Now that picture’s gonna be a keeper,” he says. 
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too-deviant · 3 months
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jackie and wilson.
previous | next series masterlist.
summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.
paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader
word count: 4k
content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?
notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?
PART II — and lord, she found me just in time 
For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly. 
“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!” 
The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not. 
You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it. 
“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room. 
“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse. 
“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”
The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”
“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”
“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”
“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”
“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”
“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”
“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”
You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”
“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response. 
“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?” 
“Okay. Love you.” 
Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad. 
Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking. 
After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice. 
You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat. 
You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”
Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”
His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty. 
You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”
“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie. 
“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours. 
“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” 
You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”
He huffed, “Whatever.”
Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since. 
You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself. 
Or maybe because he’s hot. 
Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.” 
No reply, as usual. 
A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”
He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”
You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”
You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no. 
You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off? 
You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer. 
“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak. 
But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”
You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”
Nice one. 
Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”
“Why?”
He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”
“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”
Come on, Castellan, take the bait. 
“Baseball?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject. 
Luke nodded at you, “First base?”
“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”
“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball. 
You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”
You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”
“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries. 
As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be. 
“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?” 
Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question. 
You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“
“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”
“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”
Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”
“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.” 
“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking. 
You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock. 
Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better. 
You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd. 
You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back. 
The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears. 
“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat. 
Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing. 
The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”
“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.” 
Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?” 
You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists. 
“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.”  Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them. 
Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself. 
Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces. 
He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.” 
Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods. 
“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”
He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion. 
“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”
“I know.” He replied, short as usual. 
You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.” 
But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”
He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke. 
“Why did you…come after me?” 
You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”
He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.” 
He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”
“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”
“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.” 
He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”
That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?” 
“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!” 
He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off. 
“A dragon clawed your face off?” 
“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 
You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest. 
“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.” 
Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees. 
Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that. 
He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.” 
“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him. 
He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.” 
“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.” 
“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”
“Deal.”
🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)
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mattsrod · 3 months
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- ; CHRIS STURNIOLO ; -
' experimenting ' - requested.
✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪
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- ; warnings - use of toys, plot(?), smut, established relationships , mutual masturbation,
- ; 11:13 am
you and chris left the house early this morning before matt and nick had even opened their eyes.
usually, you and chris would sleep later than them considering the nights you had together.
but no, last night you two went to sleep extremely early as your morning plans would require you to.
because in the afternoon while you were at work you received a text from your boyfriend.
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and this lead to where you are now.
in a sex shop.
in downtown LA.
at 11:30 in the morning.
- ; 11:28 am
"chris if you get a boner from those sex dolls we are leaving."
"too late."
although he was joking, you still shot him a look.
but he didnt look back.
instead, he was looking at the large array of vibrators infront of you two.
"what are you thinking?" he asked, looking at you attentively.
"of you fucking me with one of these." you turned your head and looked up at him innocently.
"i meant what kind of vibrator are you thinking of getting dumb a-"
"is there anything in specific you two are looking for?" a voice chimed in before chris could finish his retort.
it was a store employee with purple hair and a face adorned with peircings whose name tag read "sapphire"
"im just looking for something to make my girl feel good." chris answered way too casually.
you again, shot him a look, but his eyes were locked onto 'sapphire'
"well, we have a lot of that here!" she laughed awkwardly.
you cracked a smile back.
chris stayed expressionless before saying, "well do you recommend anything for first timers?"
how the fuck is he so casual about this? you thought.
"i think i have just the thing! its on the pricier side.. so let me know if you want something cheaper!"
sapphire then walked to the back of the store where you heard the rustling of boxes.
"damn that bitch talks a lot." you whispered
chris giggled at your remark before the purple haired girl came back with a fairly large box labled: inspiring vibrating wand: powerful vibrations
the box was about a foot tall with a long black well, wand, on the front. it had a bright orange label that had '149.99' on it.
intimated by the large thing, you looked at chris, who was smirking and shaking his head in delight.
"we'll take it." he said like he had done this a million times before.
"alright, perfect! meet me over at the register." sapphire walked over to the counter.
"chris!" you whispered sharply. "thats too expensive!"
you tugged on his hoodie to prevent him from waking over to the counter.
he stopped walking and turned around"hey, anything to make my girl feel good, alright?"
you couldn't help it but get red in the face at this.
you obliged and followed him to the register, thinking about what was to come.
- ; 11:44 am
the ride home was excruciating.
you pressed your thighs together as you thought of how your new item would be used.
"you alright, baby?" chris put his hand on your thigh, not taking his eyes off of the road.
you squirmed impatiently under his touch
"i might have to you the wand on you right when you get home, huh?"
-; 12:00 pm
you entered chris's room and sat on his bed.
chris walked in a few moments later, the box in hand.
he immediately sat down next to you and started opening it up.
he pulled out an instruction manual first, "damn they have a whole instruction manual for this bitch? maybe we shouldve gotten something different.."
you laughed. "it's probably just how to clean it or some shit."
"oh, then we will definitely need that." he looked up at you and smiled, gaining an ego boost after saying that.
you smacked his hand playfully.
then he took out the wand and clicked the button to the highest setting.
the head of it wirred loudly, which startled the both of you.
chris quickly turned it off and laughed, he tried to pretend he wasn't thinking about overstimulating your dripping cunt with it.
but, his manhood gave him away.
"we might just have to use this now." chris said playfully as he discarded the box onto the floor, leaving 6 inches between you and chris.
"but chris" you were cut off by a sloppy kiss on the lips from chris.
he pushed you down on the bed hovering over you, kissing you.
when you finally caught your breath you spoke, "what if matt and nick hear?"
"pfft. they wont be up for at least another 2 hours."
you giggled and resumed sloppily kissing.
lips still interlocked, chris moved to the side so you could take your sweatpants off, and you did the same for him.
the kiss lasted a few more minutes before chris could bear it anymore, and he took his boxers off.
you broke the kiss so you could look at his soaking member.
he stroked it a few times before picking up the wand.
you swallowed, it burned.
he turned it on the second lowest setting and pressed it against your cunt.
"mmh.." you let out a small moan in response.
chris moved the vibrator up and down your clothed pussy.
his cock twitched as he could visibly see how turned on you were by this.
and although you were extremely stimulated by the wand, his aching cock didnt go unnoticed by you.
you grabbed the wand from chris's hand, signaling for him to take off your panties.
he happily obliged to this, taking them off with his teeth, which grazed you as he did so.
he lowered his tounge down onto your pussy, licking it.
you shuddered.
he licked your pussy again, this time with more strength.
he licked again and again and again until he couldnt help himself from sucking.
you moaned loudly.
your hand was getting sore from holding the vibrator, so you brought it down and rested it against chris's leaking tip.
"fuck." he moaned into your pussy, sending vibrations up your core.
this went on for a few more moments until chris's hips started to shudder, and your breathing became more rapid.
chris sat up, taking the vibrator off of its resting place on his dick, and bringing it up to your pussy.
he stroked his cock at the sight of your cunt, and you convulsing.
as much as you were enjoying this, you still wanted to help chris, so you grabbed the base of his cock and moved his own hand off of it, jerking him off.
"oh yeah baby- fuck- just like that" he moaned out as the pace of your strokes increased, focusing on his tip.
you could tell he was getting close.
with he free hand he stuck two fingers into your pussy. curling them perfectly and they explored you.
but with the sight of your boyfriend jerking into your hand, vibrator which was now at the highest setting assaulting your cunt, the feeling you knew all too well crept up on you sooner than expected.
"fuck- chris im cumming!" you screamed, the pleasure washed over your whole body in waves.
you came all over his fingers, the movement of your hand on his cock become sloppy.
this was enough for chris to let out a long moan "shit- me too-"
he came all over your cunt, and the vibrator.
your breathing, although heavy, became synchronized with his.
"i guess we are gonna need that cleaning manual huh?"
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i have no fucken clue where i got this motivation to write so.. this took me like an hour tff😱
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martiniblues · 7 months
Text
silk chiffon (that’s how it feels) ; ellie williams
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pairing gf!ellie x female!reader
synopsis ellie decides to take you out for the day after being gone with jesse on patrol. you decide to wear a new dress you bought during ellie’s absence, and it quickly becomes her new favorite thing.
genre lots and lots of fluff, reader is described wearing a dress and called “pretty girl”, slightly suggestive but nothing too explicit, inspired loosely by silk chiffon by muna.
wc 2.0k
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you sat on ellie’s messy bed, awaiting her arrival, toying with the hem of your dress. ellie had told you the morning before she left that when she got back, she would do something “special” with you. that’s all that was said—no details or clues as to what your auburn-haired girlfriend had in mind for you.
you just hoped the dress you picked this morning was appropriate for her plan. the silk fabric instantly caught your eye when you saw it and also reminded you of something ellie would like, hence why you bought it for today.
she always liked seeing you dolled up in a pretty dress or floral skirt, especially when it was for her.
the click of the front doorknob of ellie’s place snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes meeting ellie’s as she dropped her backpack to the ground. you immediately filled with giddiness in her presence, quickly making your way over to embrace her in a tight hug.
“i missed you, pretty girl." you could feel ellie’s lips mumbling against your bare neck. your skin bursts into goosebumps at the feeling of her soft skin on yours. “i missed you too, els." you replied, pulling back to look at her.
her hair was pulled back into a messy bun, which sat right above her neck. the shorter pieces that couldn’t make it in framed her face perfectly.
she was clad in her beat-up converse and white socks, which peaked just above the black canvas. on top, she wore her white “wife pleaser” (as you liked to call it, which made her laugh every time) with a green short-sleeve button up left open over it.
“you look so pretty, els," you complimented, fighting the urge to kiss her face off. she grew sheepish as you played with the buttons on her shirt. “says you, is this new?”
she tugged at the fabric resting on your waist, feeling the fabric for any familiarity. “yes, actually, i bought it with you in mind,” you teased, nails softly raking up her tatted arm, which still rested on your waist.
“did you now?” she smirked, pulling you flush against her. ellie’s hands held a firm grip on your waist while her hips bumped against yours.
“mhmm…” you leaned in, slowly looking between her lips and eyes. ellie couldn’t take the distance anymore; dipping her head down, she connected your lips in a much-needed kiss.
sure, she had only been gone for a couple days, but it felt like a millennium. the absence left you alone to quite literally do nothing; always having ellie there to pester you and hang onto started to feel like a curse.
ellie pulled away before things were able to get too heated, making you whine as she stepped back and squatted to pull something out of her backpack.
she sifted through the wads of paper and various supplies she needed when on patrol before pulling out a container. “what’s that?” you question, not able to see what the mysterious box contained.
“just a few things for our date,” she said, setting the container down before grabbing her journal, a pencil, and reaching in her bag once again to pull out a quilted cloth large enough for the two of you to lay on.
you smirked, feeling so giddy over the fact that your girlfriend had thought out a whole plan to spend the day with you. she was always very considerate and made the smallest things have the biggest impact on you, but something about the way she couldn’t seem to wipe the smile off her face made it even harder for you to get rid of yours.
“okay, pretty girl, let’s get going while the sun is still out.” she hoisted the items under her arm, shooing you away while you tried to hold at least one thing. her free hand brushed against yours as the two of you exited her place, fingers interlocking.
“just follow me.”
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“els, this is so beautiful.” you were in awe of the scene ahead of you. planes of grass and various flowers were littered under you, while a small lake sparkled from the sunlight ahead of you.
“knew you’d like it,” she mentally congratulated herself, seeing your expression. she had found this hidden gem while out with dina and knew she had to bring you here as soon as possible. so that’s exactly what she did.
you turned away from the view to face your girlfriend, who was laying out the blanket she brought. you watched as she smoothed out the fabric, stretching it out to its fullest degree so that the two of you could lay comfortably. it’s the littlest things she does that make you swoon.
“god, els, you’re the most amazing person ever,” you practically squealed, ignoring the fact you had a short dress on, and tackled her to the ground. she fell back with a tiny “oomf” before her hands came to hold you above herself. you wasted no time, littering her face with many kisses. you felt the way her cheeks bunched up with a smile as your lips pressed delicately against her pretty face.
rubbing her palm against the back of your thighs, ellie noticed how your dress rose up from your move on her. “forget something?” she teased, yanking your dress back down to cover your butt and thighs.
you flushed when you felt her hand creep up far higher than it needed to in order to fix your dress. “you forget we are in public?” you quipped back, grabbing her eager hand to rest it on your back. “no one’s around for miles…” her words dragged on while her hand made its way back down your back to rest just above the edge of your dress.
“i don’t feel like scarring a poor bird for the rest of its life,” you joked, bringing a hand up to brush the lingering strands of her short hair out of her face. ellie continued her ministrations, trailing her fingers between your thighs and letting her blunt nails softly scratch your skin. “i think it would be blessed, don’t you?”
you swore your eyes nearly got stuck from how hard you rolled them. “ellie, seriously? we aren’t fucking in the wilderness." your tone shifted from lighthearted to stern, making her face fall into an annoyed pout. "well, how do you expect me to act when I haven’t seen you in years-“
yeah, your eyes were gonna get stuck, alright.
“els…” you leaned your head against your palm, knowing she was far from done with her whining. “and you wore this, and you thought of me when you bought it. you’re driving me crazy,” she finished, resting the back of her palm against her head as if she were truly exasperated. as if you were truly driving her insane.
you giggled at her dramatics. “geez els, if i knew a dress would get you all worked up, i would have bought it in every single color.” you sat up, fully straightening your arm to peer down at ellie, who peered one of her eyes open to glare at you.
“don’t move.” she now fully opened her eyes, making you freeze. did you have something on your face? was there a grizzly bear behind you?
you froze, shrinking under ellie’s hard gaze. after a few seconds, her concentrated expression morphed into a smile. "okay, perfect,” she finalized, and laid back down. “what was that?” you were completely confused. sure, ellie was a little weird sometimes, but this was so strange.
“you just looked so pretty, i had to get a mental image so i could sketch you later.” she spoke nonchalantly as she tilted her face, closing her eyes to face the sun. most of the time, you would have some snarky rebuttal to start her off, but this time you were left speechless.
ellie was beautiful—the most beautiful girl you had ever seen. her dark brows that somehow stayed perfect even if she neglected to groom them, her dark green eyes that always knew how to calm you from just a glance, her freckles that were more dense at her cheeks but scattered all across her body in places you had graciously had the ability to see, the list could go on and on.
the sun shining on her acted as a spotlight, putting every flower or lake to shame in her presence.
ellie felt your silence, opening her eyes slowly, only to find you staring at her. “now you’re the one acting weird,” she joked while your lips softly pulled into a small smile. you were completely enamored by her.
“you’re so beautiful, ellie. the prettiest girl in the world.” the words spilled out without any thought, making her blush immediately. you had caught her so off guard that she didn’t know what to do. usually, she was the one making you a puddle beneath her while she upheld an unbothered facade. of course, you were the one and only person to break that wall down.
she didn’t even respond, swiftly pulling you flush against her again and kissing you with so much passion that it made your head spin. the two of you couldn’t bite back your smiles, resulting in your teeth clanking and the kiss growing messy, but you couldn’t care less.
her soft hands molded you into nothing but a lovesick mess above her while your hands brushed past her button-up and under her tank to feel her smooth skin just above her shorts. your faces tilted every so often, making the kiss deeper and deeper.
your hand traveled higher under her shirt while hers edged the line between your dress and thigh. “my perfect girl in this pretty little dress, all for me,” she said between kisses, making you turn even more red (if that was even possible).
you visibly grew more and more needy as ellie grabbed and groped at your body. “thought you didn’t wanna ruin some birdie's life?” she teased, pulling away harshly as she felt your fingers creep a little too high to the “point of no return”.
“shut up,” you mumbled, feeling embarrassed by how needy you grew from just her kissing you alone. she was now the one laughing at you for your childlike antics, reaching up to press a quick kiss to your pink cheeks.
“let’s eat before these go to waste,” she sat up to grab the forgotten container left by her discarded journal. “so that’s what was in here,” you smiled as she handed you the food she had prepared earlier that morning, telling you about how it was nearly scrapped in a food fight with jesse. him teasing her for being such a “loser” when it came to you.
“well… he wasn’t lying,” you bit into your food to conceal your smirk. “i’ll throw you into that lake,” she warned, trying her best to seem demanding. you just sighed, placing your food down to lean closer to her to whisper as if it were one big secret: “but you would like that too much, would you?” she choked at your suggestive comment, pushing you away as you tried to tease her even more.
the two of you continued going back and forth, just enjoying the peaceful time the two of you had together, which tended to run thin most days. due to ellie being needed on patrols more often and you being needed all around for tedious jobs, the most time you and ellie ever got together was when you slept. obstacles aside, the two of you were still able to make days like these happen. no jesse, dina, or joel, just the two of you.
that night, as you entered ellie’s bedroom to get ready for bed, you noticed her journal laid open on her desk. looking closer, you nearly burst into tears at the sight. under a few random doodles and notes, looking back at you was a detailed sketch of you in your dress from earlier that day. under it was a small note:
her silk dress dancing in the wind; watched it brush against her skin. makes me wanna try her on. she’s so soft, like silk chiffon.
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notes this is one of my favorite songs of all. time. highly recommend the recorded at electric lady version (naomi’s verses AHHHHH) to listen to while you read :))) thank you so much for all the love on my first ellie post! it means the world!
tags @ang3licpretty @endureher @boobdrug @the-record @drewmclaughlin @keaton2003 @mrsromanoff @muthafuckingstargirl (if your name is crossed out tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you!!)
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smuthospital · 8 months
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⭐️Yandere Kylar x Reader⭐️
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Premise: You're a streamer, and your biggest fan really really likes you
Warning: Non-con, kidnapping, gn reader
Minors DNI
Bright lights flash in your eyes, your fingers rapidly bashing buttons on your keyboard, your other hand furiously clicking your mouse. You whine as your character suddenly falls to the ground, dead.
"Ok, guys! Ok, I get it! I know I'm not that good at this game! No need to tease me!" You laugh. Inside, you're a bit peeved. These stinky bastards aren't here for your gameplay so they better shut up. Shut up and enjoy their eye candy. You're currently streaming an online first-person shooter. You made your little hobby into a little side hustle not too long ago. Guys love watching hot people play games and it's proven to be profitable. "I'm cute? Well thank you, Mr. Husband!" This guy is a regular. Gotta give him those shout-outs he practically pays for.
As much as it hurts to deal with these weirdos, It helps with expenses. You've even seen Robins username pop in and out quickly, probably hoping you didn't see. At first, you were uncomfortable with acting all sweet for your audience, but you warmed up to the idea when it started staving off your bastard Landlord at the orphanage you live in, Bailey. You play games dressed sexy, say sweet dumb things and the money comes pouring in.
These poor, lonely guys send you money in hopes you'll give them a crumb of attention, and you do. Sometimes, you say their names. You don't exactly care that you're taking their money at all. It's a gift! It's not like you forced them to give you money, nor did you even ask. They just want a chance to get in your pants and you're not gonna stop them from dreaming. You can't count the number of times people in the chat have asked if you have an onlyfans.
You'd never, of course, date one of these pigs. You imagine your viewers are stinky, slimy, greasy and would cum in their pants at just seeing you in person. Their whole body is probably sticky to the touch and shower maybe once a month they probably have piss filled mountain dew bottles on the floor next to their pc and shit stains on their seat. You're pretty sure a few guys in the comments are jerking off as you stream this very second.
A few times, you've received ominous messages in the comments from different users, almost threatening you for some ridiculous problem they have with you. How you play, what you're wearing, or just your face, so you make sure to always hide your location and are very vague about your personal life. You're used to them being weird, saying things about what they'd do to you if they were alone with yo- Just have to learn to ignore it. You calm yourself down.
"Well, that's enough for today, I'm getting sleepy! It was nice playing with you today. I'll see you tomorrow, goodnight, love you!" You blow a kiss at the camera. You see people commenting their 'i love you too's and whining about how you could stay a bit longer' in the chat before you disconnect. You made $540 from that two-hour stream. You received most of it from the same person. Mr.Husband. Not one minute after closing the stream, you get a message. You thought you disabled direct messages? You notice that it's to your personal account that's open on another tab from an unnamed account. No bio, no profile picture.
New user: Hey
New user: Do you want to meet up sometime? For coffee?
You: Who's this?
New user: I'm Kylar. You can get to know me when we get coffee.
You: Uh no? How the fuck do you know me?
New user: I love your streams, pretty. Drop the fucking attitude before you piss me off. I knew you'd be more of a bitch off-camera. You just look too good to be good hearted. You have to be taught obedience. You're lucky I care about you so much.
You: Keep your tiny prick away from me. I never want to see you in my presence. Disgusting. Ugly pig. Do me a favor and never ever leave your dirty cave. Go fuck yourself
New user: Wanna watch?
*New user has now been blocked*
You stand up and walk away from your computer. how the fuck did he find your actual account? You don't even have your real name anywhere. You start to undress, not noticing your computer's camera has flicked on again.
In a dark room, a man fists his massive cock slowly, eyes trailing up and down his obsession through the screen. His mind is filled with all the things he wants to do to a little cock tease like you. Ruin you, break you, crush you under his weight, teach you a lesson for whoring yourself out. A cute treat like you should have better manners "Pig...tiny prick. Ah, (y/n) I can't let you just say those things to your husband." he watches as you slide your underwear down, eyes zeroing in on the crevice between your thighs as you bend over. He shudders as hot baby batter coats his chest and thighs, continuing to roll down his cock in fat globs.
Two days later, you're walking back home from a late shift at the cafe. You plan to stream when you get home.
Something is watching you.
Cold sweat dribbles down the back of your neck. You shiver, the cold night air doing nothing to calm you. You can feel eyes drilling holes into your back. You picked up your pace, your eyes darting all around. Who is it? What do they want? You think you can hear footsteps not far away. They're getting closer. You break into a sprint and make it to Danube street before you're tackled to the ground. All air is pushed from your lungs, depleting you of oxygen. You do your best to fight against your unseen attacker, but they're far too strong. You try to scream, but only a wheeze comes out. The man roughly picks you up like a sack of potatoes under his arm and carries you into a mansion nearby.
He walked down a flight of stairs and threw you to the ground. You tried to scramble away, but he grabs your ankle and drags you back to him. You get a look at his face in the dim light. He's handsome, but his expression strikes fear in your heart. Fury is the only word you can think of to describe it. You scream and flail your limbs wildly, trying to get him the fuck off of you. You hear a crack and before you realize what happened, your cheek is burning. "Shut." Smack "The." Smack "Fuck." Smack "Up." He's seething by the end. Your head was knocked back into the ground by the last hit. A dribble of blood runs down your nose, your cheeks completely red and moderately swollen. You're no longer trying to fight him, head far too foggy to do anything but lay there in pain.
"I'm sorry, baby." He huffs, calming down a bit. "Don't fight me and that won't have to happen again." He wiped at the blood on your face with his thumb, cradling your cheek. A blush creeps over his face along with a deranged smile as he stares down at you with his unblinking eyes. "You're just so perfect. Everything." You feel a bulge forming atop you where he's straddled. He pants heavily as he looks you up and down. Hot tears slip down your swollen cheeks at the realization that you can't get yourself out of this one.
You lie completely still as he palms his crotch in front of you. "I...I'm kylar...you said I have a small prick, (Y/n)... That wasn't very nice. You should say things like that to your husband." You stare at him in awe...it's..the guy from the chat. did he find you? He's crazy. He's insane. He's gonna kill you. Your chest heaves up and down uncontrollably. You feel blood rushing to your ears, feeling the most fear you've ever felt in your entire life. He takes notice of your panic attack and tries to calm you. "H-hey! Shhh, it's ok, just breathe!" You don't hear a word he's saying and thrash wildly again. Your legs kick underneath him, but his body doesn't budge an inch.
You freeze when you feel his lips smash onto yours. He grabs your wrists in one hand above your head, effectively immobilizing you. It feels like he's trying to eat you, no longer caring about your little tantrum. "Just stay still." He mutters as his large hands roam up and down your body like he's waited his life for this moment. You feel his ever growing bulge rub against your stomach. He grabs your hands before you could try to fight him again.
"...You know...I've been giving you my good money, (Y/n). All because I knew how hard it was to live on your own. But now you're here with me. You'll be my personal house whore." You feel his breath hit your cheek. "Please...let me go. I didn't do anything to you!" You're full on sobbing at this point and to your horror, you feel his cock twitch against you.
"Oh fuck! Keep crying for me like that, baby." He's clawing your pants. Your eyes dart around the room for anything that can help you, but your blood runs cold when you just see hundreds of photos of you plastered all over his walls, some even on his ceiling. You hear a loud tear. This animal ripped your pants and underwear in the process of ridding them from your body.
You're a shaking mess as he cups your sex in his hand. "K-Kylar, please!" You cry, trying to appeal to his humanity. He groans, a little wet spot of pre cum appears on his crotch. "Say my name again." He demanded. His fingers rim around your hole, threatening to dive in. You quiver at the feeling. He unzipped his pants and you feel something impossibly large, heavy and hot slam onto your stomach with a thud.
He releases you momentarily and moves himself lower on your body, his head between your legs. His arms circle around your thighs in a vice grip. He takes a strong whiff and lets out a moan. You feel his tongue slide up and down your sex as his fingers plat around with your hole before dipping half a finger in. You're too dry, it hurts! You whine and struggle, uncomfortable. His finger dips all the way in, uncaring for your pleasure. You scream as he continues to thrust his finger inside you as his mouth engulfs your sex. He removes his finger and lifts himself off you. You sigh in relief.
That relief dies as you feel his meaty cock push at your hole. He begins to push in, but your hole resists. It's too big. He lets out a sound of annoyance before spitting on his hand and rubbing the liquid up and down his cock. It does little to help aid in his entrance. "This may hurt a bit…a lot actually." He wicked grin stretches across his face before he rears his hips back and forces his cock through. You let out a blood curdling scream he rips through your insides. He's only halfway in, your walls desperately trying to push him back out. He holds onto your waist and pulls you into him, bottoming out. You feel like you're bleeding, but you're too afraid to look down.
You can hardly breathe. His cock feels like it's in your stomach. Your body twitches, hot tears slipping past the corners of your eyes as you wheeze out please for mercy. He only looks down at you in awe at your beauty. "Oh, you're so cute like this! I knew you could take it! I know it hurts now, but just give it time." His thumb rubs at your tears. There's nothing you can do to get out of this. You feel completely helpless.He pulls himself out, and slowly goes back in, groaning. "Fuck, you're so tight" he grunts. You close your eyes and hear a flash. Your eyes snap open to see he's holding a camera. A blinding light fills your vision along with a 'click'. This sick fuck.
You let out an involuntary moan when he shoves himself into you at just the right angle. He presses himself deep inside you, holding himself there, his cock hugging your sweet spot. "Ah (Y/n)! (Y/n)! (Y/n)!" He chants your name like a mantra at each thrust, but you can barely hear him. All you can do is feel him. Hurt hurts so bad but feels equally as good.
You can't help but let little sounds of pain and pleasure spill from your lips as his hips ram into yours. You look up to see his eyes are completely rolled back. His lips press wet kisses to your cheek. You feel a knot start to build in your lower stomach without your consent and you feel yourself lift onto cloud nine. "Oh (Y/n), cum for me! Cum for your husband!" He moans. You feel shame and pleasure wash over you as you do just that. You clench around him, his breath hitches in his throat at the feeling. He slams into you harder and harder. The over stimulation is killing you now. It's too much!
You think he might break something inside you, you think his dick might knock your brain out of your skull with how hard he's pounding. You feel like your organs will never be the same. "Gonna get you pregnant, gonna breed you again and again. Gonna have my babies. We'll be great parents!" His muttering awakens what's left of the fight in you. "Ah! N-no, stop! I-I can't!" His hand slams over your mouth, his bottomless green eyes staring directly into yours. He lifts your legs up and puts them over his shoulders in a tight mating press.
He hits your special spot and your eyes roll back. He can reach far deeper like this. He slams into you with one final thrust, pressing into you with his full weight. You can't breathe. The over stimulation finally comes for you and you cum all over his cock again. You feel his cock twitch before unloading what seems to be an endless supply of semen into you. You can almost hear the wet sound of him cumming inside you. Your lower stomach rises by the sheer volume of cum produced. You wonder if he used to be a bull at Remy's farm or something. That thought quickly vanishes along with your whole mind as your brain is unable to produce anymore thoughts.
With a satisfied sigh, he pulls his slipping wet cock out of you, a rush of lightly pink cum following after, quickly stopping when he plugs you up with a small plug. His cock isn't even fully soft. You pray he doesn't decide he wants a round two. "That wasn't so bad, now was it? You were crying for nothing." He pants. He kisses your temple before picking you up by your waist, once again like a sack of potatoes in one arm. He walks over to a mattress on the floor and drops you on it, your body softly bouncing on top before settling in a heap. He had a mattress the whole time and still fucked you on the cold, dirty cement floor!? You hear a click and see he's chained your right angle to the wall. He smiles at you and pevks you on the lips the way a husband would before leaving to work. His mood did a 180. He's so very cheerful, his handsome face cheerfully grinning down at you like you're a cute little kitten.
"You did really well today, (Y/n), my love. I'll be back tomorrow. You won't get dinner tonight because you fought me so much, but you'll learn to behave. I want to treat you better, so please be good for me. Goodnight." With that, your new 'husband' stands up to his full height and walks upstairs, leaving you in the cold pitch darkness of the basement.
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justkending · 20 days
Text
Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 1)
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Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader
Word Count: 2700+
A/N Note: OK! Here we go! I'm excited to share this mini-series and what's to come in it. It's a lot more in-depth than I thought it would be, but I love it. I hope you do as well :) Anyway! As always, please let me know what you think, and all comments are welcome!
_____________
“And you chose those two to go on a task together?” Steve exasperated, running a hand over his face as he looked over the video footage in front of them.
“Everyone else was on a mission,” Tony exclaimed. 
“That and it doesn’t matter what their petty vendettas against each other are. They’re professionals at the end of the day that better get their God damn acts together before I personally make them regret it,” Fury countered. 
“Undercover newlyweds seems like a risky assignment for them,” Nat added. “Steve and I have done it before. We can-”
“No, you can not,” Fury cut them off and clicked a button on his desk that swapped the video footage of druglords to a file slowly scrolling. “You both have an assignment I’m sending you in the next hour in correlation to this case. So without your work, theirs is pointless. Got it?”
Nat and Steve shared a quick look before the blonde gave him a curt nod for him to continue. 
Fury went on to explain how an insider of the criminal group had confirmed shipments, including hostages working as drug mules and other illegal substances that hadn’t been tested yet across US borders. A whole operation in itself, but Bucky and Y/N’s job would give them information the current insiders they had on the job weren’t able to attain. 
Y/N and Bucky’s undercover assignment was to act as newlyweds, infiltrate the front runners of the group, and try to become a proven alliance in hopes of joining the group in their ‘business’.
“So we’re on standby with information until they have leads to help our end?” Steve concluded. 
“Yes. And vice versa. You’re running tactical, and they’re running intelligence, although a mix in between,” Fury nodded, handing them a paper copy of the mission.
“And it can’t go the other way?” Nat asked. 
“Your faces have become much too well known in the last few years for it to be passable,” Tony added, arms crossed and reclined in the rolling office chair he couldn’t see to keep stationary. “Bucky doesn’t care for the public eye and has changed appearances since his run from the government, and no one can forget America’s sweetheart over here,” he motioned to Steve.  
“I’ve changed identities enough to get by,” Nat shrugged, watching the brunette carefully. 
“Yes, but Y/N’s face hasn’t graced the nationwide flatscreens nearly as much as yours,” he smiled spryly and fluttered his eyelashes. “Plus, it’s already been decided, so we’re moving on from the argument.”
“How long of an operation are we talking about here if the two have to create a relationship with the front runners of this?” Steve asked.
“Depends on how well the couple can sell it,” Fury crossed his arms. “Speaking of the couple.”
“Shove me again, and you’ll lose another limb that you’ll miss far more than that arm,” Y/N growled as she pushed past the massive body blocking her way into the meeting room. 
“There’s a thing called manners, and it’s free to use them,” Bucky grunted as she shoved him with surprising strength that made him slightly teeter. 
 The group outside of the new additions gave each other a hopeless look. 
“I give it two days,” Steve sighed, resting his head on his fist and watching them as they struggled to find the last open chair. Y/N came on top of the scrabble and shoved him again for extra measures. 
“Jackass,” Bucky mumbled as he leaned against the wall behind her, kicking her chair in extra annoyance. 
“Bitchass,” Y/N retorted, throwing a middle finger behind her. 
“I think you give them too much credit,” Nat let out a dry chuckle before turning to Fury. “Please, break the news to the two idiots so I can have a highlight of this night.” 
“What news?” Y/N furrowed her eyebrows to Fury. She was one of the few people who didn’t show fear towards the walking intimidation of a man. 
“Your next mission,” Tony answered in a long breath. “Where you and Barnes will be known as Mr. and Mrs. Hunt.”
“Excuse me?” Bucky gawked and stood straighter in his spot.
“What’s the date today?” Y/N asked at the same time. 
Bucky came around from her back and gave her a worried yet disgusted look. “I’m sorry. For what reason are you worried about the date?”
She never took her eyes off Fury. “I’m just trying to clarify if it’s April 1st or not because this is a poorly done April Fools joke,” she held an equally intimidating stare at the master in front of her. 
“It’s June. You’re off by a few months,” he replied, unphased and unbreaking. 
“Then I’d like some clarification on who needs a fucking lobotomy, considering that’s the dumbest fucking idea I’ve heard today. And I’ve been around this dumbass for the last 12 hours already,” she jabbed a finger back at Bucky, whose nostrils were flaring. 
“Real classy, Princess,” he said lowly. 
“Thanks, I like to keep it that way, Cyborg,” she replied without turning to him. “But seriously, is it you, Fury, that needs a Psych eval because there is no way in hell you thought this idea would actually work out in your favor.”
The room was silent as the two most intense people in the room had a stare-down. Eventually, Fury spoke up with a smirk on his lips. 
“You better figure the fuck out how to make it work in my favor because any other way isn’t really an option for you, Sergeant Y/L/N.” 
Before Y/N could fire another remark that would likely have put anyone else six feet in the ground, Bucky cut her off. “What’s the mission?”
Y/N finally gave Bucky her attention with a stern face freckled with annoyance. “Teacher’s pet.” Bucky made a face at her before she turned around. 
Fury went on to explain the mission on both their end and Nat and Steve’s. From the sounds of it, it was going to take months of convincing some dicks in the drug trafficking business (covering as presidents of the homeowner association club) that they wanted in on their scheme in order to get the information no one else seems to be able to steal.
“How many sundresses do you own, Y/N? Because I don’t think your rock band, ripped jeans, and Doc Martens are going to convince anyone you’re the baked-you-a-fresh-pie-as-a-hello-to-the-neighborhood-kind of wife,” he added, emphasizing the label he had already created for her undercover character.
“How are they going to take to a half-robotic husband?” she shoved his vibranium hand off the back of her chair.  
“I have technology for that,” Tony jumped in. 
“And I have your credit card for a new wardrobe, so I guess that solves both those problems,” she flashed a fake smile at Tony before crossing her arms snuggly across her chest. 
“You’re gonna have to leave that attitude at home, too,” Bucky got down to whisper in her ear, and he moved fast enough before she could sucker punch him in the face.
“Why not just arrest these two? Why go through the whole process of undercover work if we know they’re running the operation?” Y/N questioned, pivoting side to side in her chair as she thought aloud.
“Because there isn’t solid evidence, thanks to their associates being connected enough to cover shit up,” Fury answered. “And we believe there are multiple parties of their stature in the game. Meaning, we arrest them, the others scatter, and we risk losing a lot of information and take 20 steps back from where we’re at.” 
“Hmm,” she nodded as she stared off into a void space in the room, calculating her approach to this. 
“You’re actually considering this?” Nat asked. “I expected more of a fight.”
“I’m telling myself that it’s the drugs and possible human trafficking I’m doing this for, and tormenting Bucky along the way will be a bonus instead of a nuisance,” she replied with a weak smile like she was still convincing herself that.
“Smart,” Nat shrugged and gave an agreeable face.
“Your flights are leaving in four and a half hours, so I suggest packing your bag of necessities before we ship you off,” Tony sat up from his chair, stretching. “Any other things you need will be provided at the house already set up for you two to play the part of newlyweds. And get used to that word because it's about to become extremely annoying hearing it on repeat. Barnes comes with me to get that looking more human-like,” he pointed at his arm before walking out. 
Bucky scanned over the file in hand and let out a sigh. “We couldn’t get stationed beach somewhere in Hawaii?” 
“You’ll find the mountains rather eye-catching this time of the year,” Fury typed a few things on his desk and clasps his hands behind his back. “And that you don’t have a choice either way. Dismissed.” 
___________________
Y/N’s POV
The amount of junk they had pawned off to us as “newlywed cargo” seemed excessive. Brand new appliances were still in boxes unopened, letters on them saying who had gifted them to us as our “wedding gift” littered the kitchen and entryway. 
I was currently in the guest room unpacking a box of linens and bedding in the spare closet. My mind was a hundred miles away from my physical body, but somehow, I had managed to organize the closet in a surprisingly efficient manner while on autopilot. 
“Honey,” Bucky’s voice came from the hallway, and I took advantage of the times I wasn’t being watched to roll my eyes at the pet name. Before I could respond with a snarky comment, he followed up with, “The next-door neighbors are here to introduce themselves. Wanna come say hi?” 
Showtime. 
“Be right out!” I shouted back, standing from my spot, crouched to the ground, and brushing off one of the many new sundresses now taking up space in my closet.
For clarity, it’s not that I was against them; it just wasn’t my usual taste. Though the freeness of no pants was starting to rub off on me…
Coming around the corner of the hallway to our homey new abode, I plastered an award-winning smile on my face and scanned the two individuals in front of Bucky. I gave Bucky a silent look that read, “Hey sweetheart,” to outsiders and, “The assholes in question?” to a trained eye. 
“Doll,” Bucky started, nodding his head once at my true question and matching my step to wrap an arm around my waist, pulling me close for extra show. “This is Reginold and Bethanne Bauer. They’re our neighbors right across the street from us,” he introduced, adding a squeeze to my hip that I countered with a pinch to his side that he chuckled off. 
The physical touch was for show, but I knew he used it as a way to irritate me further, too. Lucky for me, it’s a two-player game. 
“Please, call me Reggie,” the middle-aged man offered his hand.
The man looked like he played the role of a typical white male living in a cookie-cutter home, but his build showed he wasn’t on the unfit side of things. From the files, he was 42 years old, and he obviously had kept his health a priority because he could have been in his mid 30s, from what I gathered. 
“You must be Charlotte,” Bethanne said, jumping in when her husband didn’t release my hand in a timely manner. “My my, you’re far more beautiful up close,” she said with a sweet smile, though any woman could recognize the hint of judgment in them. 
Bethanne Bauer was a 5’6”, 38-year-old lady with darker blonde hair and a figure that showed she likely was a pilates guru who didn’t take many days off. Her Lululemon leggings and slicked-back bun confirmed this assessment. 
“Well, aren’t you sweet,” I replied with a nose crinkle and a firm squeeze of my hand before drawing it back to rest on Bucky’s chest. “We appreciate you coming by and introducing yourself,” I smiled up to Bucky, who was already looking down at me (what a showman). I leaned my head in the nook of his shoulder as I turned back to them. “We were so nervous about starting over in a new state and weren’t sure what the community would be like. But everyone’s been so kind here in Montana, and you guys are just proving that point.” 
“Oh, this neighborhood is like a family,” Reggie replied, keeping his eyes on me. I'd feel uneasy if I didn’t know how to disarm a man in five hundred ways, but I knew more than 500 ways to get a man like the one in front of me to grovel. “So much so, you may be under careful watch for a while,” he winked, and I forced a laugh out, Bucky pulling me closer to his side at the harmless threat. “I’m just joking with ya,” he waved off with a boisterous laugh of his own, and Bethanne rolled her eyes. 
“He thinks he’s a comedian,” she playfully patted his shoulder. “But really, if you guys need anything at all, we are just a shout away. Or, our welcome to the neighborhood gift basket has our phone numbers in it, too, if you prefer to call.” 
Off to the side, I noticed a cellophane wicker basket with baked goods, a wine bottle, and some gift cards in it. Bucky must have accepted it before I got in here.
“You all are too kind,” I gushed, putting a hand on my chest in appreciation. “See honey,” I swatted Bucky’s chest, getting a tiny grunt from him. “I told you we would find a home here. I have a good feeling about this community,” I winked back at them with a wide grin. 
I could see the studying eyes on the woman and decided to act oblivious to her assessing. 
“Can I ask y’all a quick question?” I asked, a twinge of a southern accent I hadn’t pulled in ages coming out casually. “Where is the best grocery store around here? I’ve heard mixed things about the two stores y’all have, and you guys seem to have great taste, so,” I motioned to the gift basket. 
Bethanne listed a few of the stores they go to, ones I had researched on our flight here to get a better grounding of our new home. Of course, they were the more high-end stops. Eventually, the Bauers excused themselves for a neighborhood meeting they had planned, and Bucky and I were left alone. As soon as the door shut, I moved to the kitchen to grab a notepad. 
“Have we unpacked the pens, Beau?” I asked loudly, using Bucky’s fake name, which he seemed to know why right off the bat.
“Second drawer by the fridge,” he motioned, opening the basket and going through it, our charades still continuing. 
“I had a few things we need to grab from the store and thanks to our helpful neighbors, we know the best spot now,” I mindlessly talked as I wrote on the note; Check for bugs.
A welcome basket was fine and dandy, but considering who it was from and how quick they were to be at our doorstep—not even two hours into the moving vans' pull-up—I knew the drill, and so did Bucky as he listed out aloud what was in the gift. 
“Wow, they got us Doordash gift cards,” he smiled, placing them on the marble counter. “Wanna eat in tonight? Maybe a local spot?” 
“Sounds good to me,” I hummed, coming around the island corner and placing the notebook beside it. “Oh, did you find their number? We can ask if they have any suggestions.”
Placing the pen on top of the notepad for Bucky to respond, I moved to look in the basket myself and grabbed the note they had attached to it. 
“Eat in, drink some wine, and,” he circled the word ‘bugs,’ confirming the suspicion before leaning on the counter and looking at me with communicative eyes that didn’t match his words. “Watch a movie if I can get the TV set up by then.”
“Sounds like a date,” I smiled, but the annoyance that we had to be playing our characters until we could dispose of the bug was playing in my eyes.
Marvel Tags:
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ms-fade · 8 months
Text
Day 3 of Kinktober
Public toy play.
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Anthony Lockwood x Fem!Reader. 18+ Drabble.
Warnings: Public play, Toy play, Vibratater, Slight sir kink, someone talking to the reader when she’s getting pleasured, Cum control.
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You couldn’t believe that you said yes to this.
He was so charming when he asked you all those mouths ago and he knew when to ask you, how to ask you. Lockwood had you pinned against the bed as you laid on your back with your legs wrapped around him. All you could do was cry at the overstimulated he gave you by giving you his cock all night until the sun was about to come up. He knew you’d do anything to be called a good girl so when he ask with his cock buried in your cunt, he knew you’d say yes.
It’s been mouths since then and you forgot about it, not even taking him seriously until he showed you the controllable bullet. It was purple and had a wire having out it for easy removal, the fucking smirk on his face made you annoyed. “I wasn’t joking sweetheart.” You spend about ten minutes trying to persuade him away from the idea, but you had to admit it did seem hot. “Let me try it once, the thought about it- Fuck. It turns me on so much.” That sent shivers down through your core and you had no choice but to indulge his fantasy.
In the little shop that sold your favorite items for missions for cheap he decided to control you there. Behind the shelfs you stood with your hands gripping the metal and forcing yourself to stand up. “Hmm.” You tried to keeper your mouth shut but it was so hard when it felt so good. Lockwood was watching from the aisle across with the controller in his hand. His cock hard while watching you try and keep your composure.
Pushing a bit further your hand pushed off a book on the floor and it was load you jumped in shock. “Oh fuck,” you whispered and looked over at your boyfriend with a glare. He just laughed and turned up the setting for giving him attitude. Your pussy clinched at the new sensation and your knees become so weak you almost feel. “Oh shit.” You moaned and looked down at the book trying to pick it up and act normal.
“Excuse me miss,” a voice called from behind you and made your face go pale. “Do you need any help?” Turning your head slightly around you saw a boy with a name tag and a store outfit on, his features similar to lockwoods. “Just fine, I have a-” the toy changed vibrations and started to pulse within you and you fell back a bit with a groan. “Had a nasty fight on a hunt- Oh. Could you pick up that book for me?” You held your stomach to act like it hurt so he wouldn’t get suspicious.
He bent down and picked up the black book and handed it back to you with a smile, “Anything else you need? We have medical supplies here if you need it.” Nodding you pushed back onto the shelfs and took a break to lean on something.
“Actually, I’m just looking around but I’ll call you if I need anything..” you smile and trail down to his name tagged, “Marcus.” Lockwood saw how the boy looked at you. In other situations he would jump over and feel jealous but not now, not when he’s about make you cum. It was hot to see him think he has a chance but he’s the one in control of you.
The boy walked off and as soon as he did you made a “O” face and your legs shacked with pleasure. You hummed and tried to grind on something that wasn’t there, you needed to cum so badly. Looking back over to lockwood you mouthed him a plead for permission to cum. It was perfect for him to see you begging to cum when you had hated the idea before.
Instead of a nod of approval you got nothing, his fingers clicked the button and the feeling stopped immediately. Whimpering you groaned at his teasing and got pissed off how he could do that to you. Flipping him off you took a few breaths of recovery. Clit throbbed to be touched and satisfied, your whole clinching on the toy inside.
“Don’t be so down, baby.” His voice spoke as he walked over to you, “We still have more places to go. Can’t you take more?” His fingers took your chin and pulled you closer, his eyes filled with hunger and desire. “Be a goodgirl for me and I’ll let you cum. Not just on the toy, but on my cock.” It sounded so good. Your body aches to do both.
“Yes sir.”
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thelukesalvez · 1 year
Text
Luke Alvez x Reader: Hostage
Description: request: can you do an imagine where the reader is luke’s wife or girlfriend and she gets involved in a hostage situation at a bank and the bau is called in to help with the situation? thanks, i love your writing so much :)
 Word count: 5.2k
Warnings: hostage situation, gun violence, minor character death
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“This came in just a few minutes ago from the Director,” Prentiss confirms.  With the click of a button on the remote, a local news station clip projects onto the screen behind her, illuminating the chaos underway. “There’s a situation downtown that he wants the BAU to take the lead on.”
With bewilderment on his face, a reporter stands in downtown Washington D.C., which was littered with law enforcement and a crowd of people. The headline across the bottom of the screen reads ‘Hostage situation underway at Capital One Bank’. 
Luke drops the pen he was holding, drawing attention from other members of the team as it clashes on the table in front of him.  
“Sorry,” he mumbled. The rest of the team averted their attention back to Prentiss, but Luke’s attention was halted in its tracks. Instinctively, he reaches into his pocket for his phone, quickly checking his messages under the table. He tries to remain calm and rational, but his stomach sinks when he realizes none of the messages were from you.  
Luke had been in a rush this morning, per usual. He was running around the house, scrambling for keys, wallet, coffee, his to-go bag, just in case. He only half listened as you told him the list of errands you had to run that morning, while simultaneously scarfing down a buttered bagel.  Whole foods, the post office, the bank–
Luke swallows dryly. You were okay, he tells himself. You were okay, you were okay, you were okay. He repeats the mantra in his head as he types out a quick, casual message.  
Did you make it to the bank this morning?
Luke forces himself to turn at least some of his attention back to the team, but keeps his phone unlocked and open to your text messages.   
“Local officers have invited us in,” Prentiss informs the group, she sets the remote down gently on the round table. “They’ve informed us of at least two armed man inside the bank, no contact or ransom demand has been made as of yet. Garcia is working to gain access to security footage of inside the bank as we speak.” 
The sounds of Garcia typing frantically on her laptop can be heard throughout the conference room as she works.  
Luke stares back down at his blank screen, waiting for text bubbles to appear, indicating that you were responding– alive and well.  But there’s nothing. Luke starts frantically tapping his foot, why weren’t you texting him back?
“Alvez?” Emily’s voice causes Luke’s head to snap up.   
Luke is quick to realize that the entire team is looking at him again as he sits anxiously in his seat, his phone still cradled in the palm of his hand. 
“Sorry,” he repeats. 
This time no one looks away. 
“What’s wrong?” Rossi asks, his eyes narrowed in concern.
“I’m uh, I’m sorry.” Luke says for the third time. He tries to explain while his brain races. “My wife… My wife told me she was running errands this morning, that she had to go to the bank–”  
The moment of silence feels like an eternity to Luke. 
“That’s our bank,” he motioned towards the screen, still playing news clips on the board. “Do you mind if I just give her a quick call?” He asks, holding his phone up. 
Prentiss nods. “Of course.”
Luke mumbles a quick ‘thanks’ before jetting out of the conference room. He escapes into the hall before dialing you. Luke can feel his heart beating rapidly inside of his chest as the line waits to connect– but he’s sent straight to voicemail. 
Luke tries again. He’s not entirely sure why he expected a different outcome, but again, your cheery voice directing him to leave a message plays. This time he does. 
“Hey, it’s me. I just– I really need to hear from you right now.” Luke swallows the lump in his throat, realizing how dry his mouth felt. “Call me back, please. I love you.” He ends the call and turns his phone over in his hand a few times. You were okay, he tells himself again. 
“I– uh, couldn’t get ahold of her,” Luke states as he walks back into the conference room. He makes eye contact with Rossi, who’s gazing wearily back at him. “But I’m sure everything’s fine.” Luke says with as much confidence as he can gather. He’s not so sure he believes it himself. 
That’s when Luke notices how eerily quiet everyone else is. He glances around the room to see everyone else staring at the screen.  
Garcia had managed to tap into the security footage at the bank. Luke scans the image, his eyes immediately landing on the unsub.  He was a tall man, dressed in all black, strutting around the frame with a rifle.  He’s waving it wildly as he randomly lunges intimidatingly at one of the victims huddled on the floor.  There’s no sound to the video, but it looks like he’s shouting at them. 
Garcia suddenly lets out a gasp, her mouth falling open in unison. “No,” she whimpers, she tore her eyes away from the image on the screen to look at Luke. 
Everything inside of him goes numb when his eyes land on one of the hostages curled up on the ground, her knees tucked tightly into her chest, and her familiar looking hair shielding her face as she hangs her head low. There’s a tense silence in the room as Luke stands motionless near the door. Only his chest moved as he let out choppy, labored breaths.  
He could feel eyes on him as the rest of the team came to the same realization he and Garcia just had. You were inside the bank. 
“We are gonna get this guy,” Prentiss says hesitantly, like Luke might break just by her words. 
Luke just nods slowly. He couldn’t find the words to respond, even if he wanted to.    
“She’s going to be okay,” JJ closes the distance between her and him and places a soft, gentle hand on his shoulder.
Luke should say something. He can’t just keep nodding, but all he could think about right now was you, and the way he rushed out of the house in such a hurry this morning. He didn’t even kiss you goodbye– or tell you that he loved you. What if that was the last time he’d ever see you?
“We have to get to the scene,” Prentiss declares somberly. She eyes Luke cautiously, but the clock is ticking.  
JJ lifts her hand off Luke’s arm, leaving behind a cold spot that made him shiver. She follows Tara, Matt and Reid out of the conference room.   
Rossi, Prentiss, and Garcia remain in the conference room with Luke.  
Prentiss clears her throat before speaking. “Luke, you know you can’t come with us on this one.”
His jaw tenses at her order and he finally breaks his silence. “Screw the protocol, Emily, there’s no way I’m staying back here.”
“Luke, I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now,” Rossi says softly.  He stands up from his chair and looks at Luke sympathetically.  
“Don’t–” Luke whispers. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, but he blinks them back before sighing heavily. “Don’t talk to me like I’m one of the victims’ families.”
Prentiss and Rossi both stare at Luke for a moment, neither one knowing what else to say.   
“Emily, please,” Luke sighs, he lets his shoulders fall slightly. “I can’t stay here and do nothing.”  
She sighs heavily and she turns to face Rossi, like she’s looking to the more experienced profiler for advice. They exchange a mutual nod before she responds. “Look at me, Luke.”  His eyes meet hers. “You have to remain level headed and you have to follow my orders. Or I will take you off the case.”
Luke understands that Prentiss was legally bound to follow protocol. He wishes that rules and regulations could be pushed aside at times like this, but he nods in agreement. He would have to control his emotions in the field.  
Emily nods back in affirmation before offering him a sympathetic look. She outstretches her hand and gives his shoulder a firm squeeze. “If it’s personal for one of us, it’s personal for all of us.” She tells him, implying what Luke already knew: that they wouldn’t rest until this was all over. 
A variety of emotions flood through Luke’s mind as he rides in the back seat of one of the SUVs to the scene.  Luke shared the car with Tara, Matt, and Reid, but didn’t speak to any of them. Instead he stares directly out the tinted window, remaining silent during the entire duration of their trip. 
Spencer kept turning his head subtly towards Luke, in an attempt to gauge how he was doing. It was hard for him to see his friend suffering like this. Luke was generally the confident, reassuring one, but today he just looked broken.  
The prospect of losing you was all too consuming as he thought about the careless and threatening way the unsub had been waving his rifle around. He thought about how you had been huddled on the ground, curled up and hiding your face against your knees. He thought about how you were probably wondering where Luke was, and why he wasn’t there to protect you. 
Luke swallows the lump in his throat and forces himself to blink back tears building pressure up behind his eyes.  
How could this be happening?
A round of loud pops rang loudly through the air.
“Everybody on the ground!” 
Confused by the sudden chaos around you, your eyes quickly shift towards the door. Two men in combat gear stand there, their faces covered by ski masks. It takes you a moment to realize that the things they were holding high above their heads were guns. Your stomach drops.
You crouch to the floor in an instant, hastily trying to gauge the situation. Your view is partially blocked by the bench in the middle of the bank, all you can hear is frightened cries and the sound of heavy boots trudging across the floor. You scoot out from behind the bench so that you could better see what was happening.  
Someone is talking with the men, probably a teller, you think. Their voices are angry and harsh. 
Suddenly, in the distance, the sound of sirens could be heard. At first, you feel a wave of relief wash over you, thinking that law enforcement would be able to save you all soon enough. 
But then, you hear someone curse loudly then a pair of boots stride back to the counter.  
“Did you call 911?” One man asks. His voice is eerily calm. You watch as the teller shakes his head, terrified. The man laughs before raising his gun, shoving it near the teller. “Don’t lie to me!” He screams, causing you to jump. 
The teller continues to shake his head, sobbing and pleading now. You watch as the robber rips the mask off, displaying his face. He smirks evilly before spinning his rifle around and jabbing it into the teller’s face. You jump in shock as he falls to the floor, groaning in pain.    
Someone screams, another person sobs.  
Fear floods through your entire body upon realizing that these men weren’t leaving peacefully.  Now that their heist had been cut short, they weren’t going down without a fight. The heavy boots came closer and your eyes quickly became clouded with tears.  
Your eyes remain fixated on the floor, even after the footsteps stop right in front of you. 
“Get up,” the man orders. 
You do as you were told, trying your best to steady your shaking hands. Everyone else gets up too, as the other robber circulates the room repeating the same order. 
“Congratulations,” the man said menacingly. He lifts his gloved hand to trace the outline of your jaw. Your nostrils flare in response to his touch. “You’ve just been upgraded from background noise to hostages. Thanks to whoever called the cops.”
He motions for people to head towards the back corner of the bank. Once everyone is gathered around in a semicircle, (you counted eleven other hostages) the robbers bark more orders.
“Cell phones, now.”
People hurry to throw their phones towards the middle of the circle. You pull yours out, your heart sinking when you see an unopened message from Luke flash across your screen. 
‘Did you make it to the bank?’  
You wonder if the BAU had gotten wind about what was happening yet. You clutch your phone tightly before tossing it on the tiled floor with everyone else's.  
No one speaks, everyone just watches as the two men circulate around the room. You curl your knees into your chest, hugging them tightly. 
“You weren’t supposed to hurt anyone,” you hear the masked man whisper to the other. “You said we’d just take the money and go.”
“There’s cops outside, Diggy, we’re surrounded. The only way we’re getting out of here is a negotiation. Or if we shoot our way out.”
He strokes his beard lightly, another smirk washing over his face. “Now take that off,” he nods towards his partner’s mask. “Don’t matter much anymore if they see your face, does it?”
The man peels off his mask to reveal his young face. His features are furrowed, like he was concerned. “Cops have protocols they have to follow,” he says to the bearded man. “They won’t just barge in here unless you hurt anyone, so cool it. We can figure this out.”
Just then, the phone starts ringing.  
The older man answers, “What?” he barked. 
You hear muffled voices on the other end of the line.  
“Oh yeah?” He said mockingly, “And what can you do for me, SSA David Rossi of the BAU?”
You let out a shaky breath upon hearing the name of your husband’s coworker. The BAU had been invited in– which meant Luke knew. You wonder if he was outside, too. 
It makes your chest ache to know there was such a small barrier between you and his safe arms.   
“I’ll tell you what I need, I need a way out of here, or else people are going to get hurt.”
You hear Rossi’s muffled voice on the other end of the line again, no doubt using his profiling skills to help defuse the situation. You see the man’s brows slide into a firm line, like he’s thinking hard about something Rossi’s said. But in an instant his face contorts into an angry scowl and he clenches his rifle tighter. 
“Get me a way out of here or they die,” he snarls, before hanging up the phone. 
The man walks back over to the group of hostages with malice in his eyes. He scans the faces of people before landing on a scared woman, looking to be in her early 30’s. He bends over and wraps his hand around her arm, hoisting her up on her feet. 
“No,” she pleads, tears streaming rapidly down her face. “Please, no,” she sobs. 
“Shut up,” the man yells, lifting his gun tauntingly, before dragging her from the group.  
“What are you doing?” you can’t believe you were speaking, you even startle yourself with your words. 
But he doesn’t even turn around– doesn’t even acknowledge that you had protested.  
He pulls her towards the end of one of the teller stations and scribbles something down on a piece of paper. The woman stands by, shaking terribly in her shoes. When the man stops writing he hands her the note. 
“Take this to the cops,” he orders. 
“W-what?”
“Take this to the cops,” he repeats, slower this time. 
She nods, her trembling hands accepting the note. 
“Guys–” Tara says. 
The team turns to face where her attention was focused. The front doors of the bank were opening.  
Luke hurries to unholster his gun, his shaky hands gripping the handle as he and every other cop in the area draws their weapons. 
Confusion washes over him as a woman exits the bank, her hands above her head. 
“Please,” she sobs.  
SWAT rushes over to escort the woman to safety.  
“He told me to give you this,” she cries, handing a note over to the SWAT member.  
Prentiss rushes over to take the note, reading aloud the demands.
“Two million dollars and an escape plan. Every 30 minutes you keep me waiting, someone will die.”
The knot in Luke’s stomach tightens. 
“Tick tock,” the bearded robber states as he struts around the interior of the bank. The younger man had been quietly sitting on the bench, staring at his shoes for the last few minutes or so. 
The robber picks up the phone, dialing the number that had previously reached out. 
“Is this Rossi?” he snarls into the line. “It’s almost been thirty minutes.”
You watch as the robber converses with Rossi. You’re wondering what he’s saying. 
“You just got someone killed.” He hangs the phone up harshly before taking a deep breath, staring at the clock on the wall. 
“And thirty.” The robber made his way back over to the hostages. He doesn’t hesitate before pulling up the older man who had been praying silently next to you. 
“No!” you cry, trying to grab his hand to pull him back, but the robber just yanks him harder.  
The man is dragged across the floor, but he’s still visible to you. He’s slammed down on the floor on his knees, facing away from the robbers. Your eyes widen as the man brings the rifle up, only inches from the elderly man’s head. You know you should look away, but you can’t bring yourself to do it, especially when he turns his head and locks eyes with you.  
You are the last thing he sees before the robber pulls the trigger.  
You’re too terrified to scream, or cry, or do much of anything. You just stare in shock as the man collapses into a pool of his own blood.  
“That’s what happens when these cops don’t listen to me!” He rants, waving the gun around. He fires a couple of more shots into the ceiling, causing debris to fall. More screams rattle the interior of the bank. 
“What are you doing?” The quieter robber stands up fiercely and rushes over to his partner. He looks frantically at the dead body on the floor. “You just killed someone!” 
They get in each other's faces. “I’m doing what I have to do to get us out of here!” he screams back. He postures towards the younger boy, intimidating him into backing down.  “I’m trying to save us, Diggy.”
“But killing someone, man? I didn’t sign up for that, Kalo.”
“You just gotta trust me, okay?” The older man, you now knew was named Kalo, spoke. 
Diggy lowers his head, biting his lip harshly. He shakes his head, still in shock that things had gone so wrong, so fast. 
“Were those gunshots?” Reid asks, worry evident in his voice. 
“Those were gunshots,” JJ confirms, strapping her vest on tightly. 
Luke squeezes his eyes shut tightly. “We have to go in there,” he states, trying to remain calm. 
Rossi lowers the phone that he had been talking to the unsub on. “He said we just got someone killed.”
“If they’re shooting people, we have to go in–” Luke speaks up again. He’s terrified. What if it was you?
“It wasn’t her,” Matt speaks up. He’s watching the video footage that Luke had been too scared to check. “It looks like an older gentleman.”
Luke lets out a shaky sigh. He feels guilty for being relieved about someone else’s death, but he couldn’t help it. He looks at the clock stationed above the monitor. In another 24 minutes, it could be you. 
“What’s our game plan, here?” One of the SWAT members asks.  
Emily sighs. “We have to play this smart– these guys are reckless and they’re not going down without a fight. If we barge in there, they’ll just start shooting. Who knows how many hostages could get hit in the crossfire?”
“If we don’t go in there, he’s just going to keep executing them one-by-one.” Matt refutes. 
Emily nods. “Someone get me the layout of this building, I need to see the back entrances and side doors. If we go in, I want them surrounded.”
You’d never given much thought to how you would die. But sitting here, on the cold tile floor, surrounded by people you didn’t know and two masked assailants, wasn’t something you think you could have ever imagined.  
You wonder how Luke was doing– you knew how protective of you he was. You just hope the team has convinced him to keep a level head. 
The woman sitting next to you was spinning her wedding band around on her finger rapidly.  
“What’s his name?” you ask, motioning towards her ring. 
She looks up at you, tears glistening in her eyes. “Julian,” she spoke softly, her lips tugging into a sad smile. “And yours?” she asks. 
You touch your finger to your own ring. “Luke.”
You move your hand across the floor and rest it on top of hers. “We’re going to see them again.”
She nods, using her other hand to cover the sob that was escaping her lips.  
“These FBI agents just don’t learn, do they?” Kalo snarls as he struts across the floor. “They’re gonna let another one of you die.”
This time, he came straight for you. His firm grasp hauls you up to your feet, and before you had time to protest or fight back, he was dragging you to where he’d shot the last man. 
Your breath became choppy and uneven as fear flooded your insides. You were going to die. He was going to kill you. 
“Kalo– stop, no one else has to die!” His friend protests. He even reaches out to pull you away from his clutches, but Kalo shakes him off, jolsting you away from the other man. 
“Kalo!” he shouts, but his partner ignores him.
Just as you get to the middle of the floor, an array of loud bangs echo through the bank, causing you to jump. 
“FBI. Freeze!” A voice yells, before you realize what was happening, Kalo is wrapping his arm around you, and pulling you back against him. The hard barrel of his gun presses against your temple, sending shivers down your spine. 
“I’ll shoot her!” Kalo hollers back, his forearm jabs into your throat. 
When you finally get your bearings, you’re able to look around the room. You see a few faces you recognize.  
The first is Emily. She’s got her gun pointed right at you– or the man holding you, you suppose.  Rossi is beside her, he holds his gun up in his hand before holstering it. 
“We just want to talk, Kalo,” he says calmly.  
Of course they figured out who these guys were, you thought. With Garcia’s tracking abilities, she probably had the men identified within the first five minutes of the robbery. 
You also notice JJ and Matt, they were to the side of you. Clearly they’d found a way in through another door. Reid and Tara flank on the opposite side, they made their way around the two of you, ensuring that the robbers were surrounded. You scan and scan for Luke, but he isn’t there.  It was probably against some policy. You are glad he was following the rules, but you still wish he was there– you wish you could see his face. 
“I’m done talking!” Kalo screams back. His grip tightens and you struggle to breathe. “Go away, or I’ll kill her!” 
He was losing control, you can tell. You squeeze your eyes shut and think about Luke some more. You let his face appear in your mind, his warm brown eyes and soft smile came into focus.  It makes you sad, thinking you may never be able to hear his voice again– or feel his touch.    
“You know we can’t do that, Kalo. Put the gun down and we can work this out.” Rossi says calmly. You open your eyes again. 
“I’m not going back to prison.” Kalo mutters. His arm becomes shaky as it is pushed deeper into your throat, you gag as your airway becomes almost completely blocked. 
“Kalo– don’t do this,” Rossi pleads with the man, he senses that he is about to snap. 
“I’m not going back to prison!” Kalo shouts, and you know– you know that this was it. 
A loud gunshot rings out and you feel yourself dropping to the floor. Your entire body goes numb. You’re sure that you’re dead. 
But as you collapse to the tile floors, you slowly realize that there was no pain– or darkness. You open your eyes to find Kalo lying lifeless next to you. His eyes are still open as blood starts to spread across the ground. You push yourself away, realizing the crimson liquid had splattered all over you and your clothing. You scoot backwards until you ram into the bench.  
You look around the room as the agents jump into action. Rossi hurries to Kalo, kicking his gun out of the way before kneeling down to check his pulse.  
Matt, JJ, and Tara rush to gather up the other hostages, still huddling on the floor in the corner.  
Emily crosses the room to put handcuffs on the other robber. Diggy stands with his gun still pointing at his partner. The smoke is still curling off the end of the barrel as he looks at his fallen friend. 
As Emily approaches him, he drops the weapon, showing that he is willing to go peacefully. 
“No one was supposed to die,” he says in shock. “I had to shoot him.” 
Emily starts telling him his rights when you are approached by a soft, calm voice. 
“Hey, it’s okay,” Spencer says soothingly. He kneels beside you. “Are you hurt?” he asks. 
You shake your head, your eyes staring blankly at him as you try to regain the feeling in your body. 
“Can you stand?” Spencer asks wearily.  
You nod, slowly getting to your feet, with support from Spencer.  
“Luke–” you manage to spit out. Your voice is shaky. 
Spencer nods, wrapping his around your waist reassuringly, “Luke’s here,” he tells you. “I’m gonna take you to him.”
Spencer leads you outside of the bank. The sunlight is almost blinding and you hold your arms up to shield some of it. You want to search for Luke, to scream out his name, but your senses are betraying you.  
Your knees wobble, and you rely way too much on Spencer’s support to get down the steps of the building. You lean into his side, almost ready to fall, when you hear your name being called by a familiar voice. 
“She’s okay,” Spencer tells Luke as he darts across the sidewalk towards you.   
You barely have time to lay your eyes on him before he’s replacing Spencer’s arm with his own embrace. Suddenly, you’re engulfed by his touch and smell and everything Luke. It takes a moment for you to realize it’s real– that your husband is here and that you’re finally safe in his arms. But when you do, you let it consume you. You collapse into his frame and wind your arms tightly around his neck, squeezing like you just couldn’t get close enough. Your face presses into the nape of his neck and you breathe in his warm, familiar scent. 
“You’re okay?” Luke asks, finally pulling back to assess the damage that had been done.  
He winces when he sees the blood covering your shirt. “It’s not mine,” you whisper, knowing what he was looking so concerned about.
It was his– the man who had inflicted upon you the worst day of your entire life. You scratch at the fabric, suddenly desperate for it to come off. 
“I want to go home,” you tell Luke. 
He nods softly. “I’m gonna take you home.”
You stand in the bathroom later that night, staring at the reflection looking back at you. Your eyes were hollow– lifeless. The shower is running, the steam already rising above the curtain and starting to cause the mirror to fog up.  
You peel off your shirt to showcase the deep, discoloration already evident on your neck from where the robber had held you. You were tracing the line of bruises across your skin when the wave hit you. In an instant, you let out an earth shattering sob. The cries come from deep within you and wrack your entire body.  
You’re heaving so loudly that you don’t even hear Luke enter the bathroom. Only when he is behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tightly into your chest did you notice his presence. 
He holds you like that for a while, muttering sweet nothings into your hair and swaying you gently. When your sobs finally subside, he slowly starts helping you undress. First, he helps you unclasp your bra, then he undoes your pants, and acts as a balance support while you step out of them.  
Once you are finally naked, he starts undressing himself.  He is much faster than you. 
Luke leads you into the shower and piles in behind you. The warm water washes over you causing goosebumps to rise up on your skin as you adjust to the sudden heat. 
Luke is gentle. He helps rinse the hardened blood that was caked in your hair out. You watch the water that falls off your skin turn crimson as it swirls down the drain.  He softly takes a washcloth and runs it up and down your skin, you lean into his touch, grateful that he is here to help you. 
Luke plants random kisses all over your skin as he washes it. On your forehead, your nose, your cheek, your shoulder. When he gets to your collarbone, he stops. Luke’s fingertips ran across the bruise that had been left behind on you. You watch as his face twists in pain. He hates seeing you hurt. He hates the fact that he couldn’t stop this from happening to you. 
You break Luke out of his trance by gathering his hand in yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze. 
“Your team saved me today,” you tell him. “You saved me.”
Luke brings your hand to his lips and softly kisses your knuckles. 
“I thought I was never going to see you again,” you tell him. On the last word, your voice breaks, and you start crying softly again. 
Luke pulls you in closer, his hands winding down your back. You press your face against his chest and wrap your arms around his waist. He holds you like that for a long time, until the hot water causes your fingertips to prune and until the mirror is completely covered in fog. Luke holds you tightly, his head resting against your wet hair as you breathe against his rising chest. 
You sigh heavily. For now, you are content like that. In fact, you don’t think you’d care if the two of you stayed in the shower forever You could spend an entire lifetime like that– wrapped up in Luke’s safe embrace. 
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eddiediaaz · 1 year
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hi alie! how are you? i was wondering if you could explain, or link a tutorial that does, how you did the first gif and the checkmarks on this (/post/713604672591659008/pscentral-event-14-your-url-insp) beautiful gifset please?
hello!! i'm good, thank youuuu ♡ and yeah, sure i can! i didn't follow any tutorial for this gifset, so i'm gonna try to explain my process as best as i can.
the first gif is fairly easy, it's just a bit time consuming. the second one for the animated checkmark uses some keyframes. i use photoshop cs5, which is rather old, so hopefully my directions still work for more recent ps versions!
tutorial for these two gifs under the cut:
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gifs in text
i'm gonna assume you already have basic gifmaking knowledge, so i'm gonna start from this base gif already colored:
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i started by finding a big and very thick font that i liked. for this gifset i used a font called barle. i placed my text the way i wanted it, but i used one text layer per letter, because i wanted one different gif per letter. once i had my 9 text layers placed, it looked like this:
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then, you need to create a group with a layer mask for each letter. for this, i simply hold the ctrl/command key and click on the letter layer's thumbnail. it will create a selection of the letter.
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with this selection on, i click on the folder button to create a new group, then on the add layer mask button. it will create a group with your letter where you can put anothet gif in.
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then you just need to rinse and repeat for every letter.
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once you have all of your letter groups done, you can select all of the text layers and put them in another group. we'll use these layers again later.
then you just need to bring your second gif onto this canvas and put it in the right group/folder. i usually just bring a smart object gif onto my main canva, slide it in the right folder, then resize, sharpen, and color the second gif in there.
you can just drag this layer once it's inside the group to position it the way you need it. and also use ctrl+T to resize it (drag the corners while holding shift to keep the right propertions). once the gif is positioned, you can go ahead and disable the E text layer you used to create the mask (but don't delete it!). i kept the coloring very minimal since it's a black and white gif, and the layers should look like that:
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and this is the gif so far with the first E done:
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then you just need to do the same for all other letters, pretty straight forward! for the first D letter, i wanted eddie's face to show instead of using a different gif, so i simply put a black and white layer in that D group. my gif looks like that at this point:
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then what's missing is the outline, and it's pretty easy to make. go back to the text layers you created at the beginning. enable them all, and make sure they are on top of everything else. double click on that first text layer to bring in the layer style options, and add a 1px stroke with the color and blending mode you want. I went with yellow and the hard light blending mode. these are my settings:
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back to the layers panel, keep the text layer's opacity at 100%, but bring the fill to 0%. this will make online the online show up on the gif.
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to apply this setting to other text layers, you can right click the first text layer and select "copy layer style". then select all of the other layers and right click one of them and go "paste layer style". once all the text layers have their outline it should look like that:
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to move the outline a bit, make sure they are in a group and select this group (i renamed mine "outline"), then just nudge it by a few pixels with the arrows on your keyboard. i transformed the outline group by about 4px left and up on mine. i also duplicated the whole group because i wanted a deeper color for the outline.
and this is my final result!
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animated checkmark
starting with my base gif, i added some animated text and a little box for the checkmark to go in (drew a shape with the rectangle tool and gave it a stroke, the same way i did it for the previous gif):
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for the actual checkmark, you can try to find a brush or shapes to download, but i didn't feel like looking it up lol, so i drew the shape myself with a regular brush that comes baked in with photoshop. the best way to draw a custom shape, in my opinion, is to draw the shape as a layer mask on a color fill layer. that way you can always change the color or add layer styles later (like i did).
so on my canvas, on top of everything, i created a color fill layer (layer > new fill layer > solid color) with whatever color i wanted (you can change this later if you need). you will get a new color fill layer, with a layer mask already attached to it. i put this layer at 75% opacity so i can see the gif under it and it's easier to draw the shape in the right spot:
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i then selected the layer mask thumbnail and the brush i wanted to use, one of them (not sure i remember which one, sorry haha!):
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with the black color selected, just go ahead and draw a checkmark where you want it on the canva. you can always use the brush in white to erase it and start over with the black color if you're not happy with it. but once you have a checkmark you like, it should look like this:
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now you just gotta invert the mask so the checkmark is colored, to do this just click on the color fill layer mask you just drew on and hit ctrl/command + i. the mask will get inverted and it will look like this:
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then you can add whatever layer style you'd like to the checkmark (and put the layer opacity back to 100% if you want). i added a gradient and a drop shadow to mine, and changed the blending mode from normal to difference to make it match with the text, so now it looks like that:
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animation time! this is where you need to use a bit of keyframes, but i promise it's not complicated.
for this animation i wanted to mimick a checkmark being drawned. when you draw a checkmark, you usually do it in 3 steps right? your startung point, then a line down, and then another line up to the end point. it's what i tried to mimick here.
to animate it that way, you need to draw a shape that will hide the checkmark and then move it around to mimick the drawing animation. to do so, create a new group (i've named mine "checkmark") and add a layer mask to this group. you also need to unlink the mask by clicking on the little chain icon next to the mask thumbnail:
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now the next steps are a bit of trial and error until you get what you want, i'm gonna try to explain it as best as i can (bear with me haha):
1- go to where you want the animation to start, aka where you want the checkmark to start appearing. for me it was a few frames after the start of the gif.
2- then, with a black brush that wasn't too big nor too soft, i brushed a bit over the checkmark to erase it for now (you may have to go back and edit this after the animation is done). no need to do a huge shape, just big enough to cover the checkmark. if you go back to the move tool and click on the mask thumbnail you have just created and click and drag in the canva, you should be able to move the mask around. this is what you want for steps 5 and 7. basically, on your mask thumbnail on the checkmark group, what is brushed in black will erase what's in the group, and the white part will reveal what's in the group. for now just make sure the shape you just drew is covering the checkmark.
3- once the checkmark is hidden, click on the stopwatch icon next to layer mask postion to start the animation. this will automatically create a keyframe where your cursor is on the timeline (the yellow diamond)
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4- once your starting point is done, you want to go a bit further on the timeline with your cursor.
5- then move the mask shape so it reveals just the smallest part of the checkmark (make sure you click the checkmark group mask thumbnail first before moving the mask). once you move the mask with the move tool, a new keyframe will automatically appear where your cursor is on the timeline (another diamond). make sure you drag the shape down the checkmark to mimick it being drawn.
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6- go a bit further again on the timeline, where you want the animation to end.
7- and move the shape again to reveal the checkmark (make sure you click the group mask thumbnail first before moving the shape). again, a third keyframe will be automatically created. i dragged the shape up from the bottom of the checkmark to mimick the drawing of the checkmark.
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your animation should be done here after these 2 movements, so play it in a loop and see if you are satisfied with the animation you have created. if you don't like it you have options:
you can go back to the group layer mask and edit it with the black or white brush;
you can also go back to each keyframe by positiong your cursor over it and move the mask around in a different way;
and you can select the keyframes (yellow diamonds) and move them around on the timeline. if you push the keyframes closer together, the animation will be faster, and if you space them out more, the animation will take longer. it's up to you!
this animation thing is really just trial and error. you could probably do the same animation with a checkmark you find online, as long as the image file is in a group and the animated mask is applied to the group. and don't forget to unlink the mask before animating a movement or it won't work properly!
and this is what my animation looks like:
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that's about it, i hope that was clear enough omg. never realized how hard it is to explain these things in english lol. let me know if you have any questions! ♡
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zhongrin · 1 year
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┋ The Steambird Issue No.517
article commissioned by the fontaine steambird magazine and written by ✾ mei/rin ✾
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[Breaking News!] Our Fontaine gadget makers did it again, folks!
A collaboration project between Fontaine's best gadget makers and the scholars at Sumeru Akademiya has resulted in a prototype device inspired by the now-obsolete AKASHA system.
Not many details have been revealed, but as the scholars described it, they are aiming to use the concept of AKASHA to create a virtual space, called TeyvaTweets, where people can communicate with one another without seeing each other's faces! Yes - much quite like a communication device, but one that utilizes text instead of the usual verbal methods of communication.
A few selected testers have been invited to try it out, and if you're one of the lucky ones - congratulations! We look forward to seeing how this new technology will help connect people across Teyvat.
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——————————⟡⟡⟡ ✉️ ⟡⟡⟡——————————
Dear <USER>,
𝒞ongratulations! You have been selected to help with testing out the fruits of our labor, here at the Sumeru-Fontaine collaboration project. Enclosed is the device containing the application: TeyvaTweets. Have fun perusing it, and we look forward to your feedback.
⧽ [ Turn on the device ]         [ Leave it off ]
ps. user manual and warnings attached on a separate page.
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𝚄𝚜𝚎𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚟𝟷.𝟶.
you should be able to open it using both phone and pc (it's just a normal website).
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clicking on pfp/name/username in a tweet (orange box) will open the profile of that person. clicking the 'x' icon on the popup box's top right side will close the user profile.
clicking the tweet on the main page will open the tweet's replies thread. clicking the back button will bring you back to the main page.
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜.
there are suggestive contents inside, but nothing explicit.
some of you make cameos under other people's tweets too! see if you can spot yourself ;)
there's a lot of images for this one so the page might load slowly for you, especially if your internet isn't fast. i'm also using a free hosting service from GitHub, so yeah.
in order to indulge everyone, please pretend the tweet reply threads that 'overlap' with one another is a separate world on their own (e.g. if multiple people are flirting with a character and they flirt back in the reply thread don't point fingers and say that they're unfaithful / is cheating / ruin someone else's fun in general ;;;)
tested on chrome & safari web browsers on a mac and iphone + google pixel. crossing my fingers that it works on other devices too...
created for 𝓏𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓇𝒾𝓃'𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭 (submissions are closed)
might make a y/n-ify version of this in the future bc my brain accidentally fleshed out a whole concept of how it would work, but don't count me on that bc it's gonna take a lot more effort than this and honestly idk if it's even worth it-
——————————⟡⟡⟡ ✉️ ⟡⟡⟡——————————
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© zhongrin | 2023 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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◇ taglist ◇ @thestarsofenkanomiya | @genshinparty | @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sophiethewitch1 | @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me | @sunnshineflxwer | @heartonthemoon | @yuutasbabe | @percyval-archives | @carbs-need-more-love | @rebeccka | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @herdrops | @diebischesther | @marina-and-the-memes | @angryhope | @mixed-kester | @shuangxo | @fiannee | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ladylofspades | @sup-zfam | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @nachotrash | @algrimmammon | @sassy-cat-in-town
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