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[musical-chick-13]

"Truly GOOD works don't have thriving fandoms because people aren't interested in fixing them, so what do they have to write fics/make art about."

Idk about you, but I don't write fic for properties I don't genuinely enjoy and think are, on some level, actually good.

[mrsnancywheeler]

let me down easy // finnick odair x f. reader

based off this blurb

summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.

masterlist

3.8k words

warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end, a little smutty but also very brief, mental illness, insecurity, paranoia, allusions to cheating (no one is actually cheating), slightly mean!finnick, self destructive behavior on all sides, more insecurities, arguments, feeling isolated, slight blood and injury, female rage things, male masturbation, unedited, no use of y/n, brief mentions of vomiting, girls girls all around, annie cresta my beloved being a girl girl, people pleaser reader

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Once every day had felt like it was full of sunlight, even if there were ups and downs you always had each other by the end of it. Now you weren't even sure if you had yourself, let alone Finnick. Worst of all you had no idea what you'd done wrong, at first you chalked it up to how he'd just returned from the Capitol. But usually his isolation was a day at the most before he'd succumb to your comfort. Instead it had been nearly a month of radio silence.

He stopped the way he'd pepper your face with kisses to wake you up and bring you to the kitchen where he'd have made breakfast, telling you mindless stories about his morning swim. Now if he did anything for you it felt robotic, out of necessity, there was no helping you with your hair, having fun picking out your outfits, he was barely around. Never would you have thought you could be such an outcast in your own home, your own relationship.

At first you'd thought you just weren't doing enough, that he needed some extra love to help him open up. Reluctantly you'd fully wake yourself up when you felt him rise for his swim, take up the position of making him breakfast instead. Busying yourself with his favorites until he returned and you put on your best smile when he did, hopeful it would be somewhat successful.

“Good morning!” You greeted and were met with a confused look, a nod. You'd always hated getting up this early yet here you were and he did nothing.

“I have to take a shower." He muttered and was up the stairs. It was a disappointing resolution, but then your hopes had still been high. So you kept making his favorites throughout the next few days, scattering gifts for him throughout the house, writing notes to hide where he might find them, desperate to show him how much you loved him.

“Where are you going?" Your voice startled him and he slowly turned his head towards you.

Finnick's voice was so dry, rigid, “Fishing."

“Oh, let me get my shoes on, I'll come with!" Bright smiles, you reminded yourself when it felt like wavering.

“I'd rather go alone."

“Right." It wanted to falter so bad, “How long are you gonna be gone? I could make you lunch to go or something."

“I'm okay."

You fidgeted with your fingers, “Yeah, okay, well, um, have fun." Then he was gone, without a kiss, even a hug goodbye. Come to think of it there hadn't been any at all for a while, not even in the morning which is something he'd always do. So after a few days failing with those attempts you'd convinced yourself of a different reason.

“Annie, be honest with me, do you think I'm pretty?" The two of you had been out in the garden of Victors Village and she seemed taken aback.

“Honey, of course you're pretty. You're beautiful, what brought this on?" She dropped what she was doing to look at you.

You darted around the specifics, “What about the way I dress, is it too frumpy?"

“No! There's nothing wrong with anything about you." Her voice was so soft and she felt like the only person you could talk to now that Finnick had pushed himself away from you. “What's going on?"

You felt yourself finally crying all the held back tears you'd hid for the moments alone, “What if he's found someone prettier and more exciting?” You sobbed out and Annie hugged you.

"Finnick worships the ground you walk on, he'd never do that.”

"He barely even talks to me anymore, Annie. It's like I don't exist.”

“He's just going through a rough patch, it's not your fault."

Regardless of what Annie said, you disagreed. He must have had someone else, but you couldn't confront him about it. No, if you did then it would become real and he'd leave you for them. There had to be someone else taking on his hardships and loving him the way he'd once let you. So you bought new makeup, new lingerie, new clothes, tried to feel more attractive, more desirable. Yet it didn't seem like he even noticed.

You'd waited for his return all day, he'd left so early you hadn't even seen him. You made dinner praying that he'd see the effort you made, and find you irresistible once again. Of course, this effort seemed to be in vain.

“Welcome home, Finn!" You greeted when he walked through the front door, pained by the sound of your own faux bubbly voice. You put a plate down in front of his usual seat.

“Thanks." He mumbled and you smiled cheerfully. Perhaps you'd been too solemn and he'd prefer someone who exuded more sunshine-like behavior. “How was your day?" His voice was sharp, curt, but it was a conversation nonetheless. Always better than nothing.

“It was good!" You lied through your teeth, there hadn't been a single moment where your brain hadn't been infested with the thought of him pushing you away, him with someone else. It was something you desiped, you preferred to be in the moment. When you had been confident in yours and Finnick's relationship you could immerse yourself in the company of others, enjoy menial tasks with humming and daydreams, but now the isolation haunted your mind. “Annie and I planted some new flowers and cut some that recently finished blooming. I finally changed our vases out." He didn't even glance around, just kept eating. Your Finnick had always made an effort to look around, praise you for anything you did, he took pride in you, now the only thing he took pride in was being able to avoid you.

He curtly nodded his head in response and you felt like you might snap. Especially as the silence persisted, nothing except the sounds of the house and his fork clinking on the plate. You chewed at your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down waiting for the smallest bit of conversation, but nothing came. Eventually you shot out of your seat, grabbed your plate, which you were sure you wouldn't be able to stomach, and began cleaning up dinner. Hands gripping each dish so hard as if to contain all the rage you'd been repressing.

“I can clean up." Finnick murmured as he rose.

Being lazy was another thing you thought could be a reason. He did so much for you and whatever you had to offer must not have been enough. Yes, he'd always insisted that you should just be his pretty girl that he could look at when he did the tasks, but in secret he must have just wanted you to resist and do more. So you vehemently shook your head, “No, I've got it!" Your voice was strained and several pitches too high to sound natural.

“It's fine, I can do it.” How dare he have the gall to sound annoyed with you.

“I've got it Finnick, just go to bed!" Or whatever the fuck else is he does to be away from you. You regretted how snappy you were, he wanted someone easy going, not how uptight you were being. But god, hate that man for how he looked like a wounded puppy dog. “Sorry." You muttered, only partially genuine. Harshly grabbing a glass to clean, hands gripping around it, so harshly it seemed that when you went to put it to dry, it shattered in your hand. Your reaction was delayed as you stood there in disbelief, you hated your life, “Fuck.”

Then his hand was on your back and you involuntarily jerked at the contact you hadn't felt for so long. “You're bleeding." How the hell was his voice still so stony, a mystery you'd never know the answer too. It sent tingles up your spine the way his hand was on your back, you missed his touch. He led you to the bathroom where he carefully tended to the cuts in your hand. Carefully taking out the pieces of glass and although you occasionally winced, it was like your brain couldn't comprehend the pain over the buzzing about his hand touching yours. But once he bandaged it up the touch was gone and so was he with a, “I'll clean up."

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. But you hated being angry with him when he was probably going through something, he'd struggled so much and just needed help. Was it really excusable though when it was tearing you apart to be in all of this. You got up and without a second thought walked straight out the front door. Feet guiding you to the comfort of the beach. Of course it invoked memories of all the better times spent with Finnick, but out here at least you had the ocean. It has started to rain and you didn't care. Walking out into the sea, as far as you could touch, and letting the freedom of the waves surround you. And you screamed, at the sky, at the waters, into the night. Trying so desperately to let go of the aggression, so you could keep trying. Inhaling the salt air before you walked back inside, you could do this. Every relationship had trials and tribulations, but you could be stronger, stick together.

As you were walking back, Finnick was jogging towards you, “Are you okay?" There was actual emotion in his voice, you longed to be privileged to it more often.

“Yeah."

“I thought I… " He trailed off, hand running through his hair. The way he looked like he might cry sparked guilt in you, but also a sick pleasure that he actually cared. “You're gonna get sick." Just as quickly his tone returned to being straight-laced.

You didn't care, if you were sick maybe he would take care of you. So you walked inside and he said nothing. You showered and changed, you'd gotten a new nightgown that left little to the imagination. Maybe you could get a rise out of him, get him to touch you more. But he seemed to be fast asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so you slipped into bed beside him. In the past he'd always sleep with his arms around you, but now you slept beside each other rather than with one another. It left you cold, despite the blankets, which were barely there as he'd always been a blanket hog, which you used to tease him for, but was fine because you were attached to him. Now you laid there and felt yourself crying. You cursed yourself for it, not right now, but you couldn't stop. So you covered your mouth with a hand as you sobbed into it.

The next morning you felt him wake, but there was no energy to make breakfast. You were exhausted and it hadn't made him love you again anyways. So you drifted back off until the sound of floorboards creaking when he returned woke you up. You sat up in bed as he entered the bedroom. “Morning, Finn." The smile you worked hard to maintain was back.

“Morning." He mumbled and then his eyes faltered on you. That's when you remembered the nightgown, it was a relief for something to keep his eyes on you. ‘Love me, even if it's just for my body, love me in some way.’ Your brain begged to no avail. “Shower." He slowly said even though he'd very obviously grown hard.

You felt humiliated, completely embarrassed to be dressed the way you were and him to still not want you. It made you want to cry again, but you had to persist. Rising to get dressed until you heard your name. It took you a second to process that he was moaning it, you were right there and he was getting himself off to the thought of you when he could've just had the actual you. That had to be a new type of low. You hadn't even dared to touch yourself no matter how badly you wanted him because you knew nothing you did could match the things he'd made you feel. Yet here he was, so easily jerking off. There was nothing you could do except seethe as you got ready for your day. At least it was your name and not some other girls.

You were in the kitchen when he walked downstairs, “Going to the market." He announced and you got up from your chair.

“I'm coming too." It wasn't a question.

"No, it's okay. I've just got a couple things to grab.”

"So do I, so I'll just come along to grab them. You don't even have to stick by me, I'm just going.” You were exasperated. Honestly you hadn't left the confines of Victors Village for a while, besides when you tried to recall your look, and this would be a good opportunity to see if he was being honest. There was nothing you really had to get, but at least you'd somewhat had his company.

He said nothing but waited as you put on your sandals and then the two of you set off. The silence was deafening as you two walked, your Finnick would always hold your hand, would've taken you from booth to booth and ramble on endlessly, buy anything you glanced at with interest, but now he stood too far away for your hands to even brush by each other. The bustling of the market was a relief and for the first time in a long time you naturally smiled. Although it was jarring how quickly Finnick put on a smile, made conversation with all these people when he hadn't blessed you with the same thing. In fact, it instantly dampened your mood.

“Haven't seen you in so long, missed seeing that pretty smile!" All your favorite vendors gushed and you'd smile, make small talk. Even if everything made you think of Finnick. When was the last time he'd called you pretty? When was the last time he kissed you?

“You look a little sad, are you alright?" And you'd insist you were just feeling a little under the weather. You'd somewhat kept your distance from Finnick until you saw him laughing with a girl in the market. When was the last time he'd laughed with you? Is this what he did, found pretty girls in the market, charmed them, and went back home with them?

You'd slowly approached and showed fake interest in one of her necklaces. “They're real pearls." She said. She was so pretty, stunning. What did she have that you didn't? You hummed, smiling and without a word, Finnick was handing you money.

‘I don't want your money, I want you to pay attention to me.’ You thought and shook your head, “I don't need your money, Finn." The only thing you'd want from him was something he'd pick out because he wanted to give it to you, something he'd always done if you hadn't been there with him. Showing up at home with little treasures to show off to you. He looked at you quizzically, it wasn't like you had any money of your own on you.

“Is this your girlfriend?" The woman asked, her voice was sweet like sugar, you were too gruff, that's what you were missing.

Right now though, your voice was breathy, anxious. “Yeah." The woman must have been able to sense something off because she looked at you with pity. Finnick left the money on the counter by you regardless of what you said and walked off. You sighed.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know."

You gave a sad smile, “It's okay, not your fault." You picked the money up, ready to go find him.

“He's just a guy, even if he's Finnick Odair, don't let him dim your spark." It should've been encouraging, except you knew you loved him too much to ever leave him.

You found him, chatting and smiling as he bought produce. You missed his smile. “Here." You said quietly, handing him his money.

“Where's the necklace?"

“Didn't need it." You didn't care about needing it, you care that he would rather have you buy things for yourself then make you feel valued.

He huffed, like you were frustrating him, annoying him. “Okay, use it to find something else then. You said you weren't going to stick around me." You couldn't stop yourself from physically recoiling from his venom.

“I just came to tell you I was going home." You said weakly, staring at the ground. “Have fun." Your voice cracked slightly and you didn't even bother looking up as you walked home. Immediately settling yourself into bed where you refused to move. Eventually he came home, something clicked onto the dresser table, the sun went down and you stayed put. When he crawled into bed the most movement you made was flipping onto your side to have the protection of your back facing him.

For days it was a cycle of laying in bed, only rising once he left, usually to stand under the burning hot water in the shower until your skin felt raw. Then immediately returning back to bed. He'd return, put something on the dresser, and you'd stay still. Eventually one night he'd come home and sat at your feet, mattress dipping. “We need to talk."

Your hands clamped over your ears, this was it, he was done with you, all that effort for nothing. The anxiety knotted in your stomach, “I'm gonna be sick." You forced yourself up and found yourself throwing up in the toilet, Finnick holding your hair back.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, sweet girl." When you were done you said nothing as you brushed your teeth, praying he would leave and forget whatever bad news he was surely bearing. But he didn't, he waited and sat on the bed, waiting for you. Who exited, arms crossed, trying not to cry.

“Please don't break up with me." It was pathetic to beg for but he stood up, looking bewildered.

“No, no, no, I'm not gonna break up with you, sweet girl. I wouldn't even think of it." His hands cradled your face and you melted into them.

Finally you let the tears fall, "Then what are we talking about?”

"I've been so terrible to you, a terrible partner, a terrible person. I…” He took a deep breath in, "I had a rough time in the Capitol, I always do, especially last time though. And I knew you would be able to tell and try to help, but it was easier for me to just block you out so I didn't have to deal with it. Because it hurts to think about." He was crying and it made your heart ache. "And I took you for granted. I didn't try to be there for you, I was selfish and I can't make up for it enough. I will spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

You were both sobbing and he pressed his forehead to yours. His hands were so warm, his touch was so perfect. "I want to help you.”

"I know.” He pulled his forehead away, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I need you to tell me how you felt. Not the sweet way you usually explain things, be honest, so honest.

You shook your head, “No, it's okay. It was just miscommunication."

“No, I think I nearly broke you and everybody else noticed before I did. I need to know your raw feelings, so I can attempt to make it up to you.” He let go of your shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I thought you were cheating on me.” You said quietly, anxiously playing with your fingers. He already looked hurt, "Like you found someone else because I wasn't, I don't know, fun enough, pretty enough, hardworking enough. And you didn't want me to do anything with you ever or notice anything I did for you." You took a deep breath, you could feel yourself getting angrily worked up and he could tell.

“If you're angry, be angry." He said and you obeyed.

“And I bought new clothes for you, changed my makeup routine, smiled more, made all your favorites, woke up earlier, tried to take on burdens and you said nothing. Do you know how lonely I was? How bad that made me feel about myself? One day you weren't letting me lift a finger, telling me you loved me, now pretty I was, and the next I thought I'd never hear any of that again, let alone have you touch me. No kisses, or hugs, you didn't even hold me when we slept! And you were so closed off and sometimes mean on top of that and all I wanted was your attention. Until finally I gave up because at least even if you weren't really with me, I still had you, and I didn't want you to leave me just because I found out there was someone else, which is so fucked. And then I thought, maybe at the very least, he’ll have me for my body, I had new lingerie, I tried and you didn't give a fuck. No, you got yourself off in the goddamn bathroom and I was right here!” Your voice had risen and your inhales were sharp between the ranting, "And everytime I hated what you were doing to me, I'd feel bad because what you've been through is so much worse and I should still try to be there for you. So I tried and then you'd be annoyed with me and it was like torture. And I swear to god, if you ever do that again, I'll leave.” A weight lifted off of your chest and he hugged you.

“I'm so sorry, I won't ever do it again, I love you so much, you're so pretty and kind and I need you in my life." You held onto him like he would slip away, kissing away your tears that were falling even though he was also crying. He held you until the sobbing had mostly subsided, “You know I bought you all these stupid gifts when you were laying there, thinking it would make you feel better, but I don't even think you noticed." He chuckled and you turned your head, not wanting to tear away from him. All you could see was the necklace from where you were standing. “Not that it would've done anything after all the time I spent letting the castle crumble around us.

"Thank you.” It was muttered and then he tried to pull out of the hug which made you whine. Trying to cling on forever.

His hand tilted your chin towards him, “You wanna put one of those sets on that you got for me so I can show you how pretty you are and how sorry I am for neglecting my sweet girl?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

sorry y'all angst is my default settings. thank you for reading, comments, likes, reblogs, feedbacks is all super appreciated. asks and requests are open, love you all, sorry again 💋

taglist: @wowzabowza69

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [17]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Warning: eMoTiOnAl DaMaGe

Part 16 | Fic Masterlist | Part 18

How dare he—

Jongho gritted his teeth, his fists tightening at the despicable tactics the fourth prince employed to disrupt your relationship with the general. Usually composed, the assistant struggled to contain his rising anger, feeling an overwhelming urge to resort to violence.

Meanwhile, all Eunsook cared about was your well-being. She empathised with your past, knowing all too well the horrors you endured in your old home. The idea of being married to someone potentially more ruthless than your previous abusers must have been terrifying. Despite understanding the reasons behind her master's actions, she acknowledged his moral ambiguity.

Her only wish was for you to accept that he would never hurt you.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions stirred by the revelation that Seonghwa might have been involved in more than just supervising your father's punishments, your expression remained unreadable. Yeosang held his breath, watching you intently, half-expecting a reaction of terror or betrayal. Whether it was shock, anger, or disbelief, he anticipated something negative.

Desperation clawed at the prince's heart as he clung to his last resort, willing it to work. Foolish as it might seem, the truth was he had no prior experience in wooing anyone, let alone a married woman committed to another. He fumbled in the dark, unsure of the right ways to win your heart, driven only by the conviction that he could be a better husband than General Park.

In his mind, he painted a picture of himself as the ideal partner for you, one who would treat you with the care and affection he believed you deserved. He saw himself as the only one who could truly understand the pain etched into your body, just as you might understand his. And so, he resolved to pursue you relentlessly, even if it meant resorting to drastic measures that could potentially cause you further trauma.

For the fourth prince, the ends justified the means. If it meant having you by his side, it would all be worth it. He vowed to spend the rest of his days showering you with nothing but love and kindness to make up for what he put you through today.

It's time you come to me now, darling.

However, he was in for a rude awakening if he believed you would run into his arms seeking comfort after learning the terrifying truth about the monster your husband turned out to be.

Instead, after a moment of collecting yourself, you lifted your head to meet his eyes, a newfound intensity burning within your gaze, "I'm sorry if this offends you, Your Highness, but what exactly do you hope to achieve by showing and telling me all of this? My husband acted as he did because those people deserved it. As for my father, if you could even call him that, he abused me all my life and killed my mother; he deserved whatever my husband gave him and more."

Though the revelations about the general's potential actions during those extra hours unsettled you, your anger shifted towards Yeosang for bringing them to light in such a manner. Clenching your fists to conceal your trembling hands, you remained resolute. Even if you didn't condone Seonghwa's actions, he was still your husband, and your love for him remained unchanged.

As you stood there, the annoyance toward the fourth prince simmered within you, each word he uttered adding fuel to the fire. From the very beginning, he had refused to acknowledge your new title as Lady Park, a small but significant act of disrespect. Then, he persisted in bringing up topics from your past, despite your obvious discomfort and desire to move on. Now, his deliberate attempts to tarnish the general's image felt almost like a personal attack.

The sarcasm laced in his words when speaking of your husband grated on your nerves. Seonghwa had sacrificed so much for the country, and the least he deserved was respect. It dawned on you now what San had meant about Yeosang's difficult nature. You finally understood why the prince's behaviour could be infuriating.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from concern to awe as they watched you stand your ground against the fourth prince's attempts to undermine your husband. At that moment, it became clear to them that perhaps their worries had been for nothing all along. They should have had more faith in your unwavering love and loyalty to their master.

Yeosang's confidence faltered as he observed your stern expression and heard the firmness in your voice. This was not the reaction he had anticipated from you. Perhaps he had underestimated the depth of your love and loyalty to General Park.

Could the Queen have been right all along?

Feeling a sense of urgency and realising he had no other viable option, His Highness took a deep breath and decided to come clean about his intentions once and for all. He couldn't risk angering you any further than he already had. It was time to be honest, even if it meant facing the consequences of his actions.

The smugness that had once characterised his demeanour now vanished, replaced by a palpable sense of shame as he lowered his head slightly, "I... gosh, I am sorry, my lady. I acknowledge that it was wrong of me to manipulate the situation like that. I'll be honest with you. There was no actual banquet planned. In truth, I haven't celebrated my birthday in years. It only serves as a painful reminder of my existence."

Your brows furrowed in apprehension as you listened, allowing him to continue with his explanation, "I take it you're wondering why I despise my own existence. You're likely unaware of my reputation, unlike others. You may have noticed the birthmark here," he gestured to the red mark on the side of his face, prompting a nod from you.

He offered a faint smile, "Throughout my life, I've been treated like a freak because of this mark. As a member of the royal family, I'm sure you're aware there's an expectation of flawless appearance. So, imagine the shock when they saw the fourth prince with such a conspicuous blemish, my parents included. Both within and beyond the palace walls, people have whispered about my birth, deeming it a curse, questioning if I should have even been born at all."

"Since reaching adulthood, I've rejected numerous marriage proposals. Every woman presented to me has regarded me with disdain in their eyes. But then I met you, my lady, that day in the cherry blossom garden. You were the first person to wear your own mark proudly, without a trace of revulsion. It was as if you saw beyond my appearance. I suppose you could say it was love at first sight for me. I'm in love with you, Miss Jang, and that's why I've brought you here today—to propose to you."

Everything suddenly fell into place.

The puzzle pieces of his behaviour over the past days and weeks finally clicked together, forming a clear picture. Empathy flooded your heart as you realised the depth of his struggles. You knew all too well what it felt like to be singled out, treated like an outsider even by those closest to you, and shown no respect despite your status.

However, you felt a pang of shock upon learning about his feelings for you and his pursuit. It was unexpected, to say the least. You hadn't imagined that he harboured such emotions, especially considering the complexities of your respective situations.

Observing your softened demeanour while listening to the prince's confession, Jongho and Eunsook felt a resurgence of worry. They understood Yeosang's struggles and empathised with his difficult life. Despite that, they couldn't ignore the fact that you were a married woman. Regardless of what His Highness may have gone through, pursuing someone who was already committed was inherently wrong.

The two of them exchanged a concerned glance, silently acknowledging the complexity of the situation. While they sympathised with the prince, they couldn't condone his actions, especially his attempt to come between you and your husband using such underhanded tactics.

Your chaperones would soon find reassurance in your response after a moment of contemplative silence. With a deep inhale, you attempted to offer Yeosang a smile, despite the earlier anger you felt towards him, "Look, Your Highness, I understand the hardships you've endured, and probably continue to endure. I genuinely empathise with you. I'm also truly grateful to have met you. I've never had any friends before, so meeting someone who shares similar interests means a lot to me."

His Highness grinned sadly, "Ah yes, I'm sensing a 'but' there."

With a light chuckle, you nodded, "But it's precisely because I see you as a friend and care about you that I want you to understand that whatever you think you might feel for me isn't love."

He stared at you with wide eyes, but you halted him before he could protest, "Perhaps you've mistaken the feelings of gratitude and joy from finally meeting someone who treats you sincerely for love," You gently explained, "My prince, love doesn't simply happen at first sight like that. It requires much more than that; two people must go through so much together before they truly understand their feelings. I've been through it myself, and I can assure you that what you're feeling is definitely not love."

"Lastly, please address me as Lady Park. I haven't gone by Miss Jang for a while now. While we can remain friends, I must insist that you respect my marriage and abandon any plans you may have. My heart belongs solely to the general, and that won't change."

You sighed at the pleading look in the prince's eyes, understanding that convincing him wouldn't be easy. But you had said your piece, and the rest was up to him to realise. Feeling the onset of a headache from everything, you bowed one final time, saying, "If there's to be no banquet as you've mentioned, we'll be taking our leave then. Thank you for having us today, Your Highness. I wish you happiness."

I'm almost there, my love.

Nearly two days had passed when Seonghwa finally arrived back in the city and approached his own estate. The journey had been one of the most challenging he had ever undertaken. He cursed his injury for slowing him down, as he had to make several stops to rest and change his bandages, mimicking the actions of the medical team soldiers who had tended to him. Despite his urgency to leave camp, he had taken care to pack enough supplies to last the trip back.

Regardless of the constant yearning to be with you again, he felt a twinge of guilt for leaving his army behind abruptly due to such personal matters. If his soldiers knew about his absence, some might consider him irresponsible for his actions.

Shaking his head, he recalled how he used to criticise some of his men distracted by thoughts of their loved ones during battles, viewing them as foolish for letting such distractions affect them. If someone had told him he would act similarly in the future, he wouldn't have believed them for a moment.

The things you do to me, my wife.

The mere thought of seeing and being near you again made his heart flutter. He admitted to himself that he had become one of those fools he once criticised, but he wouldn't change a thing. Experiencing love had shifted his perspective entirely, compelling him to do whatever it took to keep you by his side forever. Having saved you from a life of suffering, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone again. He was determined to be the one to bring you joy, protect you, and stay with you for the rest of your days.

Or... was he really?

His conviction would soon waver as the ominous sensation in the pit of his stomach intensified with each step closer to his home. Alongside it, the pain in his abdomen escalated steadily. What should have been a mere graze now felt like something far more serious. In truth, the discomfort in his insides was becoming unbearable.

Seonghwa gritted his teeth as he clutched the area of his wound one last time, his breath catching in his throat as a sudden wave of pain coursed through him. With a determined exhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to endure the agony that surged within him.

At the entrance of his estate, the staff responsible for guarding widened their eyes in recognition of their master's arrival. He quickly straightened his posture, putting on a facade of strength to conceal any signs of his injury, "Master, you're back!" One of the staff members exclaimed, their surprise evident as they rushed forward to assist him down from his horse.

Within moments, Jongho emerged from the estate, his expression a mix of concern and relief as he hurried to the general's side, "Sir, I assume you've received my letter?"

Your husband nodded, "I did. His Highness also sent me one, mentioning his intention to propose to your mistress."

The assistant's eyes rounded in surprise, realising the extent of the fourth prince's confidence to openly declare his intentions to pursue you to the general, "Well, he certainly made the attempt."

Seonghwa's steps faltered at this revelation, and he turned to face Jongho, who seemed equally uneasy, "So, it's already happened?"

Nodding, the younger man blinked anxiously, "S-sir, it's not good. The mistress knows," The general felt his blood run cold at that, but he pressed on, "Please, be more specific."

Jongho swallowed hard, bowing his head apologetically, "She learned about the Jang family's punishments and what you've done to the former minister. The prince took us to the palace torture chambers as part of his scheme. While she stood her ground there, she demanded that I tell her everything that happened as soon as we got back."

Suddenly, Seonghwa understood the source of his ominous feeling. He should have known better than to believe he could keep the truth hidden from you forever. Surely, your compassionate heart would struggle to accept what he did. Taking a shaky breath, he asked, "Where is she now?"

"She's in the House of Lotus, sir. She hasn't left since we returned from the palace two days ago. But don't worry, Eunsook has been making sure she eats her meals." Jongho reassured him.

With a nod of gratitude towards the assistant, your husband made his way towards your quarters, passing by the head maid who was taken aback by his sudden appearance. She knew he should have still been at the warzone. However, a quick glance from Jongho conveyed that the master had returned because of their letter. Understanding dawned on her, and she could only hope for the best.

The general's breath hitched as he laid eyes on you again after so long. There you sat in the pavilion, your attention fixed on the lotus pond before you. You appeared just as radiant as the last time he had seen you. However, this time, instead of your usual lady etiquette books laid open, his heart lurched at the reports detailing your father's latest status beside you. These confidential documents, presented to Seonghwa monthly, tracked the former minister's movements. Biting back the wince that threatened to escape him, he ignored the increasing pain in his abdomen and called out your name.

As your head snapped up at the familiar voice, you gasped at the sight of your husband at the entrance of your quarters. Slowly rising from your seat, you cautiously approached him, unsure if this was a hallucination. For so long, you had imagined him here, in this very spot, so many times that you couldn't count. You hoped it was not your mind playing tricks on you again.

This isn't another dream, is it?

You didn't understand why he was back; there was no news about the war being over yet. It's not that you didn't want him here, you just didn't expect him to be here all of a sudden. Standing before him, you felt your eyes water and your heart pound from seeing him again. It took you a moment to process his presence before you whispered, "S-Seonghwa... what are you doing here?" When he did not respond, you noticed his gaze staring past you at the reports Jongho was forced to hand over to you.

Despite the intense urge to pull you into his arms and never let go, all he manages is to harden his expression, "So, I see you've found out." He said, his voice strained.

This wasn't how either of you had imagined your reunion after the tearful goodbye. With a deep sigh, you nodded grimly, your mind flashing with reminders of your family's physical punishments and the gruesome things he'd done to your father, momentarily shattering the loving image in your eyes, "Yes, I did. And if I hadn't, were you planning never to tell me? What happened to not keeping secrets between us, hm?"

Truth be told, you found yourself no longer harbouring anger towards him for this matter. Over the past two days, you'd taken time to reflect, understanding his perspective and somewhat rationalising his actions. While you weren't exactly upset, you simply desired to hear the whole truth from him directly and perhaps receive a plea for forgiveness. In any case, you were prepared to run into his embrace.

Your words to the prince in the palace were sincere. Your heart belonged only to Seonghwa, and that wouldn't change. You firmly believed in the strength of your love, likening it to the resilience of your lotus flowers, enduring despite the obstacles. This situation, you believed, was just one more challenge to overcome together.

But instead of giving you the response you expected, your heart sank at the cold smirk he wore before speaking, "That's right, I never would have told you the truth if it were up to me. You women are so troublesome; it was stupid of me to think I could actually handle one for the rest of my life. Besides, what difference would it have made? This is who I am, and you knew about my reputation from the moment you were promised to me. So, are you really that surprised?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned away from you, adding, "You've seen the reports. Now that you know what I'm capable of, I won't bother hiding anything from you any longer."

His words pierced your heart like daggers, leaving you reeling in disbelief. Shaking your head in denial, you whimpered his name, hoping for some semblance of the man you loved to emerge from behind that cold facade. This wasn't what you wanted from him. You wanted him to fight for you, to reassure you of his love, just as you had done for him. Confusion gnawed at your insides.

Why wasn't he fighting for you?

What was going on?

"Seonghwa, I-I don't understand—"

Before you could finish, he cut you off abruptly, his words laced with finality, "Yes, it was me. I did all those horrible things to your family. That's the kind of monster I am. But now, you're free. Your family is gone, and no one can dictate your choices anymore. You're your own person. You can do whatever you want and love whoever you want. If it's the fourth prince you wish to be with, you have my blessing. Maybe he's the one who can give you the companionship you desire."

With that, he turned and stormed out of your quarters, leaving you alone and bewildered, with no assurance of his return.

Once out of your sight, he released a shaky breath and clutched his wound, feeling the fabric already soaked with blood seeping through his bandage. Despite his blurring vision, he stumbled through the estate, desperate to depart before anyone noticed his condition. Seonghwa wasn't oblivious; he knew he must have been poisoned when the pain of his injury became too unbearable.

With a sinking feeling, he realised he didn't have much time left, and perhaps Prince Yeosang was right. Maybe what you truly needed was a husband who would consistently stay by your side and not cause you the worry he did.

I'm sorry, my love. This is for the best.

« Preview of Part 18 »

"Physician Jung, there's a letter for you."

Yunho furrowed his brows, pausing his work on his latest concoction aimed at alleviating all of your scars. Despite the challenges he faced in this endeavour, he remained steadfast in his commitment to helping you restore your skin to its original state.

Setting aside the herbs he was working with, he approached the entrance of his quarters to accept the letter from Jongho, "For me?"

The younger man nodded in confirmation, "Yes, oddly enough, it arrived via a military messenger. Initially, I assumed it was intended for the general, but it's specifically addressed to you. General Officer Song requests your urgent attention."

Blinking, the doctor processed the information, "Wait, do you mean General Park has returned to the estate?"

Jongho smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh, yeah. He arrived unannounced just a while ago, thanks to our letter. I suppose the situation at the warzone must have calmed down if he's able to return so quickly. He's with the mistress now. Let's hope things will improve with him here."

Relieved, Yunho nodded and quickly unfolded the letter. His stomach dropped, and his eyes widened at the hastily scribbled words, "H-he's with the mistress, you say?"

"Yes, what about it?" The assistant furrowed his brows in confusion as he watched Yunho shove the letter back into his hands before bolting out. Reading the letter himself, he soon found himself rushing in the same direction, dread filling his being.

No, this can't be.

I was so excited that I got to writing this as soon as I completed all the assignments for the first half of my semester! Only three parts until the end of this story, how we feeling out there?🤧

Holy crap, thank you so much for 1.4k followers! As always, thank you so much for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[coryosmin]

Extra Credit - Professor Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

summary: Coriolanus Snow is your communications professor at uni and it so happens to be the only class that your grade is dropping in. So you decide to ask your handsome professor what you can do to get extra credit. He gives it to you.

warnings: modern au, age gap (reader is 19, coryo is 25), college setting, nsfw content, mdni, p in v, oral (m receiving), flirting, soft dom coryo, praise kink, degradation kink, etc.

word count: 2,300

enjoy!

Being a university student, it takes a lot to maintain good grades. You’ve always been a good student, taking your time to learn the material, studying frequently, and wanting to maintain high grades. And you’ve achieved that in all of your classes except for one, communications.

It’s not that it’s a hard class. Communications is quite easy when you really get to the fundamentals of it. However, your professor, Professor Snow, was a harsh grader and will nitpick the tiniest of errors. Some may call him passionate about what he does, others may call him ridiculous. You personally think the latter.

Professor Snow was the professor that many of the students fawned over. He was young, some students being the same age as him or similar. He was blond, muscular, and always looked good in a suit. He was stoic and never really smiled for any particular reason. But his personality most certainly put a damper on his beauty.

You sat in your communications class, frowning at the paper you had just gotten back. It was an essay on conflict resolution, something you thought you did really well on as you had studied and researched the topic. However, the grade you received on that paper made you realize otherwise. In red ink was a big old “C-“ with no other information given. No feedback, nothing. And you were quite worried about your grade.

So after Professor Snow had dismissed the class, you stayed behind, nervously biting your lip as you waited for the other students to clear out. There were of course stragglers which made it a bit harder to have the confidence to talk with your professor. Once they had left though, you gathered your things and walked up to Professor Snow, who was erasing the whiteboard. “Sir,” you said hesitantly, getting his attention.

Professor Snow turned his head around to see you before going back to erasing the whiteboard. “Yes, Ms. L/N?” he said in that beautiful voice of his.

You cleared your throat before speaking. “I just wanted to possibly chat about my essay,” you said.

Professor Snow finished erasing the whiteboard placing the eraser down before turning around to face you. He rubbed his hands together. “What about it?” He asked, looking at you with his blue orbs.

“I don’t quite understand how I got a C minus when I met all the requirements that you assigned in the rubric,” You exclaimed, holding your paper in your hand.

Professor Snow motioned for you to hand him the paper so you did. He stood next to you, pressing his shoulder against yours as he showed you what you did wrong. “There are a few grammatical errors,” he said, pointing at a few of the lines. “This line right here isn’t a direct quote so I’m unsure as to why it’s in quotations,” he said.

“Because it’s paraphrased,” You replied.

“Paraphrasing doesn’t need quotes, it needs the citation,” Professor Snow exclaimed, glancing at you before looking back at the paper. “Overall, it’s a bunch of small errors that are silly mistakes which is why you were given the grade you were given.”

You frowned in frustration. Shouldn’t the content of the essay matter more? You sighed. “Is there anything I can do for extra credit?” You asked, looking up at your professor. He was already looking back at you when you had asked, the two of you only a few inches away from one another.

Professor Snow tilted his head slightly, tapping his chin as he thought to himself. After a few moments, he smirked, leaning in to whisper in your ear. “There’s certainly something you can do…” he whispered.

You gulped at the proximity, your heart racing in your chest. “What?” You whispered back.

Professor Snow smirked, pulling away as he moved to close the door of the lecture hall, locking it behind him before walking over to his desk chair and sitting down. “Get on your knees for me,” He said simply as he spread his legs.

Your eyes widened as you realized what Professor Snow meant. You hadn’t taken him to be that kind of professor. “T-that’s breaking many different university rules, Professor Snow. I hardly think-”

“If you want the extra credit so badly, you’d do it,” He shrugged, raising his shoulders as he did so. His expression was amused, as though not expecting you to take up his offer whatsoever. Which made you realize what exactly he was doing. He was challenging you. And you never back down from a challenge.

So you did what he hadn’t expected which is drop your things and walk over to him, kneeling in front of your professor. “I’ll do it,” You replied, looking up at him.

Professor Snow’s eyes widened before he quickly recovered. He cleared his throat, licking his lips. “Get to it then,” he said, his voice thick.

And so you did. You unzipped his red slacks, your eyes fixated on the bulge forming in his pants. “If you want me to stop at any point, sir, please let me know,” You said, pulling his pants down gently.

Professor Snow simply watched, anticipating your touch. He helped you pull his pants down just enough to reveal his black briefs. “Keep going,” he replied.

You brought a hand to his bulge, palming him through his underwear. Professor Snow let out a small groan at the feeling, his cock hardening from a semi to a full erection underneath your touch. You couldn’t help the smirk on your face at the reaction of your professor. It was most certainly hot and sent a wave of arousal down to your core. You licked your lips, moving your hands to the waistband of his underwear and pulling them down enough to reveal is pretty pink cock. Your eyes widened at the length, unable to help the gasp that escaped your lips. “You’re so big,” You said in amazement.

Professor Snow smirked at your reaction. It was true. He was at least eight inches, maybe a little bit more. “Yeah?” He asked, looking down at you.

You blushed, nodding your head. You looked up into Professor Snow’s eyes before looking back at his cock. You leaned in, licking a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue at the top. Professor Snow shuttered at the feeling, a hand moving to your head. You slowly eased him into your mouth, making it about halfway before his cock was hitting the back of your throat. You moved your head back up, swirling your tongue, before moving it back down. Then you got into a rhythm.

Professor Snow moaned, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment as he relished in the warm feeling of your mouth on his cock. He knew this was definitely forbidden, students cannot sleep with teachers. But he just couldn’t help himself. You had always been his favorite student though he tried not to show that by nitpicking every little thing you turn in. You actually do wonderful work. But he didn’t want to accidentally reveal his favoritism towards you simply because he’s attracted to you. It’s a weakness and Coriolanus Snow was not a weak man. “Such a dirty whore, sucking your professor’s cock for a grade,” He groaned, opening his eyes to take in your beauty.

You moaned around his cock, arousal pooling between your legs. You clenched your thighs at Professor Snow’s words, trying to relieve some tension. You continued moving your head up and down rhythmically, using your hand to jerk off the amount of his cock that you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Getting all worked up from sucking my cock?” He asked, caressing your hair. “Dirty whore.” He moaned. “I’m so close. Are you going to be a good girl and swallow?”

In response, you continued your movements, sucking his cock so well. His cock twitched in your mouth, signaling his release. “Oh fuck,” he moaned, throwing his head back in pleasure before cumming in your mouth. You swallowed his cum, sucking him through his orgasm. And when Professor Snow finished, you pulled off of his cock, looking up at him with pretty eyes, swollen glistening lips, and messy hair.

“Did I do good, sir?” You asked, giving a small smile.

Professor Snow breathed heavily, giving you a breathless chuckle. You looked so attractive to him. “Yes, you were a good girl,” He replied, causing you to clench your thighs. Professor Snow’s cock twitched in interest again, ready for more. He smirked at you. “Come here, baby.” You obliged, getting up off of your knees and crawling onto Professor Snow’s lap. Your skirt pooling around the both of you. Professor Snow gripped your hips, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.

You kissed him back, eyes fluttering shut as you moved your lips in sync. He kissed you deeply and hungrily, as though you were the air he needed to breathe. And you absolutely adored it. Professor Snow’s hands moved underneath your skirt to grab your ass, massaging the flesh through your panties. You moaned softly against his lips, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and explore you.

After a few minutes, he pulled away from the kiss, looking into your beautiful eyes. He moved a hand to your clothed pussy, feeling it through the fabric. “You’re soaked, baby,” He murmured.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding your head. “So wet, Professor Snow,” you murmured back.

Professor Snow smirked. “Call me Coriolanus or Coryo when we’re alone, baby,” He said as he slowly rubbed your clit through your panties.

You let out a soft moan, nodding your head at Coriolanus. “Yes, Coryo.”

“Good girl,” He replied, kissing your lips. “Gonna fuck you, okay?”

You nodded your head in agreement. “Please, sir,” you asked, biting your lip.

Coriolanus gave you a soft smile, still rubbing your clit. “Such good manners,” he said. And then he moved your panties to the side, grabbing his cock and rubbing it between your folds. “Are you on birth control?” A very important question and a good one to ask too. You are a college student after all.

“Yes,” You replied, sighing as you felt the tip of Coryo’s cock rub against your pussy. And without any more hesitation, Coriolanus inserted his cock into you slowly, causing you both to moan. It was a bit painful at first, Coryo being the biggest you’ve ever really had. But it felt oh-so-good. “Wanna ride you,” You whispered, wrapping your arms around Coryo’s neck.

“Go ahead, baby,” Coriolanus replied, grabbing your ass. “You deserve it.”

And so you did. You began to move your hips slowly up and down Coryo’s length, causing the both of you to moan. Coriolanus kissed your lips while you moved your hips. You were so wet and tight around him. You whined at the feeling, grateful to finally being able to relieve the ache you’ve had between your legs for some time now. You pulled away from the kiss, throwing your head back in pleasure as you moved your hips a bit faster. “Oh fuck,” you moaned out.

Coriolanus watched you ride his cock. You were so gorgeous and pretty. Your cheeks were red, your cunt was so tight and warm. Coriolanus couldn’t believe he was finally fucking you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, stopping your movements. You looked at him confused until you felt him bucking his hips, fucking up into you at a harsh pace. You let out a squeal before bringing a hand to cover your mouth, muffling your moans.

“You like that, baby?” Coryo breathed harshly. “Like my cock fucking you so hard?”

You nodded your head, mewling. “So good, Coryo,” You moaned out. “So deep.”

Coriolanus continued fucking up into you, feeling his release approaching rapidly. He reached a hand between the two of you, rubbing circles on your clit, causing you to let out a muffled loud moan against your hand. “Such a good girl, taking my cock so good.” He moaned out. “Gonna cum inside your beautiful pussy. Would you like that, huh? Would you like to be filled with my cum?”

You whined pathetically, nodding your head. “Yes!” You moaned out. “Please cum inside me, Coryo, please.” Your orgasm was approaching quickly, the familiar heat building inside your abdomen. “Am so close. Can I cum? Please let me cum.”

Your words and begging spurred Coryo on. God you were so fucking perfect. “Yes, baby, cum for me. Such a good girl,” He moaned, resting his head against your shoulder as he continued his movements. And soon you both were cumming at the same time, you gushing around his cock as he came inside of you.

And when you both came down from your highs, you breathed heavily, looking down at Coryo. You both were silent for a few minutes until you broke the silence. “So…” You breathed out. “Did I earn my extra credit?”

Coriolanus let out a small laugh, nodding his head against your shoulder. “Yes, baby, you did.”

You grinned at your professor. “And do you do this with all of your students who need extra credit?” You asked.

Coriolanus lifted his head to properly look at you, an amused smile on his face. “Only the special ones. And I only have one of those,” He replied charmingly.

Later in the week, when you went into your Communications class and Professor Snow passed out your previous assignments, your essay from earlier was handed to you. The C Minus was crossed out and replaced with an A+ and a note that read “See me after class.”

It’s safe to say that after that, Professor Snow was your absolute favorite professor.

[kitsuneisi]

Ko-Fi Memberships!!!

Hello!! I'm here to happily announce now i have a monthly membership on kofi!! the beneficts include: -Early access to art I post -High-resolution of said posts -WIPs and sneak peaks of upcoming comic chapters -Behind the scenes of the production of the comic; character sheets, exploration of characters, etc. -Polls for doodles, illustrations and tutorials Don't worry if you can't donate, since eventually all the art will be posted! This is just some extra support if you have the option! Share if you can!! :DD

[zineobiology]

Welcome to the Zine O’Biology

A multi-fandom Star Trek Zine.

Do you have strong opinions on Vulcan fra’als, Cardassian tails, or how the heck Trill symbionts reproduce? We want to hear from you!

The Zine O’Biology is a fictional comparative xenobiology academic journal set in the Star Trek universe. If you’ve always wanted to wax eloquent for up to 3000 words about your theories on alien biology, welcome to your new home!

We want all your theories about all your favorite aliens! This is a friendly but competitive academic journal where the content of every paper is a little bit suspicious (is this paper based on rumor or fact? What is the methodology?) and some competing authors leave snarky comments on one another’s work. So just like a real academic journal, except ours features the Great Green Anthurium.

We welcome xenobiology articles on all Star Trek aliens from all series!

The final format will be a PDF that you can scroll at your leisure or print at home in order to have a physical copy of the Zine. (This way there is no money involved.)

--SEEKING SUBMISSIONS FOR--

Alien biology articles

Alien biology artwork

In-Universe advertisements

Letters to the editor

ALIEN BIOLOGY ARTICLES

How do Andorian genders work? Are Cardassians actually lizards? Why do Klingons have so many redundant organs? What’s the biological purpose of Bajoran nose ridges? What’s the best cement mix for emergency surgery on a Horta?

You’ve been pondering alien biology for years. This is your chance to infodump all your favorite theories to an eager audience of your fellow nerds!

Articles will be separated into two categories: reproductive biology or general biology. Yes, we also want all your theories on what every species is packing downstairs…and how they use it.

Journal articles should be fun and engaging, but also written in your interpretation of a pseudo-academic style, since this is a highly respected Federation xenobiology journal. If you want to keep things more lighthearted and less academic, check out the section on Letters to the Editor.

ALIEN BIOLOGY ARTWORK

If you have independent illustrations about alien biology we would love to see them! If you would like to provide illustrations for one of our journal articles, tell us what species you want to illustrate and we’ll do our best to match you up!

Art should be in a square, scaleable format, printable at high resolution at 4x4 inches.

JOURNAL ADVERTISEMENTS

Even in a post-need future, academic journals will need a little extra funding. Submit your ads for Ferengi Oomox Creme, Self Sealing Stem Bolts, Gently Used Federation Technology, and, of course, “reproductive aids.” The weirder the better! Have fun with it!

All art needs to be printable at high resolution

Ad Sizes:

1 column (vertical) 3.5 x 7

half page (horizontal) 8 x 5

banner (narrow horizontal) 8 x 2

in-text (square) 3.5 x 3.5 scaleable

in-text (half-square) 3.5 x 1.75

LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

Do you have a great idea, but it’s not enough to fill out a 3000 word article? Submit it as a “reaction” to a previous journal article. Feel free to lay into a mythical researcher who does NOT understand why their biological theory is wrong and yours is right!

Max length 800 words. Enjoy making these plenty frothy!

WE NEED SUB-EDITORS!

The creators of this Zine are all notorious Vulcan Fuckers. Since we want the Zine O’Biology to be open to all alien species, it is only logical that we seek your expertise.

We’re seeking fans from all over the Star Trek universe to spread the word that yes, it’s time for us to all come together in the spirit of explaining how our favorite aliens come together.

Sub-Editors will be in charge of helping us solicit articles and art for their specific race of aliens and editing those articles in order to fit into the Zine. If we don’t have a sub editor for a species, we’ll do our best, but the chapter on that species won’t be as good as it would be if folks with real fanon knowledge were involved.

WANT TO GET INVOLVED, BUT YOU’RE NOT A WRITER OR ARTIST?

WE NEED:

Graphic designers to help with Zine layout

Social media promoters

Alien art and article wranglers (ie: get your fannish friends involved!)

--HOW TO GET INVOLVED--

Fill out the Art or Writing Google Form letting us know your interests or reach out to the Editor in Chief at zineobiology@gmail.com

DEADLINES:

August 1, 2024: Last date for everyone seeking an art or writing partner to submit their request. We don’t guarantee you’ll be partnered up. It depends on how many people are interested and what aliens they want to draw/write.

August 18, 2024: Art/Writing partners notified. NOTE: it’s both fine and encouraged if you want to submit as a team from the start! This is for people who do not have a partner and would like us to find them one.

August 30, 2024: Final call for all journal authors, artists, and advertisers to let us know what species they’re working with, how many submissions they plan to send, and whether their submission will be general or reproductive biology.

October 20, 2024: All art, advertising, and journal submissions are due

We hope to have the Zine O’Biology ready for your enjoyment by New Year’s Eve 2024. We all have full time jobs and lives, so that date may change depending on the volume of submissions.

FAQ

What if my biological theories are totally different from another author’s?

Yes. Perfect. We love it.

We want to see everyone’s theories! Canon gave us scraps, but together we will make a meal! Expect to see many mutually contradictory articles. That’s part of the fun!

What about Smut?

Yes, we are accepting E rated submissions! The journal will be separated into two sections:

General Biology

Reproductive Biology

General Biology is everything but the genitals

Reproductive Biology should include actual descriptions of the mechanics and biology. Think of it as creating reference material for smut writers and artists.

[kirstydreaming]

Chloe

[kirstysdreams]

Amanda

[gubsbuubs]

Hotch’s Daughter

(18+nsfw)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Hotch´sDaughter!reader

Word Count: ~ 6.5K

Warnings/Tags: Lots of teasing, BANTER, Hotch´s!Daughter,smut, Enemies to Lovers.

Request: This one-shot was inspired by a request for an enemies-to-lovers featuring Hotch's daughter and Spencer Reid -》 basically I've been having this thought for a few weeks now and I'm embarrassed to ask, I thought of something with a..I don't know if I can call it that enemies to (fuck) enemies, hate sex maybe (?) something like Hotch's oldest daughter It's somewhere between s9 and s12 Reid (whichever you think is best) and a difference of about 7 to 9 years. Reid just doesn't like Hotch's oldest daughter because he thinks she's maybe a little irresponsible (not that she's just a 20-something woman who's a hard-partying college student [that's not that important, so just extra info]) something like that also Y/N always teasing Reid in a passive-aggressive way (I have no idea what examples, sorry) when no one is around I don't know if you have a list of tips, but I would also like something like during sex "You've always wanted to fuck your boss's daughter, right Reid" and again LOTS of teasing during sex. I kind of thought of something like a college party where Y/N is like “competing at beerpong” or something (not drunk enough to be drunk) and for whatever reason Reid is at this party (a case or something or like Morgan dragging Spencer to a party with the excuse of "I know this guy and he's having a party and I feel like you need to relax Spencer", so he drags Reid to the party) and the rest (Y/ N and Reid) end up in a room alone. I know I've already asked for a lot, but I'd also like something like Morgan looking for Reid and hearing the “little noises” he and Y/N make through the door and the next day teasing him at work with it 🤭

Summary: Y/n, Hotch’s daughter, cleverly exploits Spencer’s boundaries by flirting to incite him. While Spencer remains resolute in maintaining distance, the tension between them escalates until one day, he finds himself unable to resist.

A/N: Hi my loves! This is just filthy and it´s ginormous, so sorry.

My requests are open! 🍒

English is not my first language- barely proof read this

As I strolled through the bustling bullpen, my sights set on the unit chief's office, I spotted Derek at his desk, buried under a mountain of paperwork as usual. With a mischievous grin, I called out to him, "D!! Party at my place Friday at ten p.m. You better show up."

Derek's head snapped up from his desk, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Woah, woah, woah!" he exclaimed, rising from his chair and halting me in my tracks. "What do you mean a party at your place, young lady?"

I chuckled softly at Derek's protective tone, he was more than just a family friend; he was like a brother to me. Working alongside my dad for years, Derek was an integral part of our family, just like the rest of the team. When my mom passed away, Derek's support was invaluable. Having experienced the loss of his own parent, he understood the depth of my grief like no one else could. He became my rock, offering solace and guidance through those dark days. I owe a lot to him; without his help, I doubt I would have had the strength to finish high school. He turned my pain into strength, helping me navigate through the toughest moments with his unwavering support and understanding. Derek's presence in my life has been a blessing, shaping me into the person I am today.

As I approached Derek's desk, I leaned down slightly to meet his gaze, a familiar smile playing on my lips. "You know… Mr. Hotcher and Jack are away for the weekend, visiting Beth," I said, my voice filled with excitement. "So, I'm inviting my friends from college to come over to my place to throw a party."

Derek chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "A college party? Really, Y/n?" he exclaimed with a hint of disbelief. "I'm way too old for all that."

I grinned, knowing Derek's idea of a good time might not align with the typical college scene. "Come on, Derek," I teased, nudging his arm gently. "You're never too old to let loose and have some fun. Plus, you'll fit right in with your timeless charm."

Derek chuckled again, his expression softening. "Alright, alright," he relented, a twinkle in his eye. "I'll make an appearance, but don't expect me to stay past my bedtime."

I gave him a playful wink and a grateful smile. "That's all I ask for," I told him as I made my way to my father´s office.

I knocked three times, as I always did, and without waiting for a response, I pushed the door open.

"Hi, sweetie," my father greeted me with a warm smile, his tone softening as he saw me enter. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just need some help before you leave," I replied as I gave him a hug, "I knew you would be leaving tonight, and I just need some advice. I'm having trouble with a paper. It´s constitutional law, and I have to submit it next Monday."

As I sat on the chair across from his, eagerly awaiting my father's assistance, he remained focused on his paperwork at his desk. After a moment, he glanced up at me with a regretful expression.

"Honey, I'm sorry," he began, his tone apologetic. "But I'm not going to be able to help you. I have to leave in a couple of hours." He checked his watch, a sense of urgency evident in his voice. "I'm sorry, but I would really love to help you, but I can't."

"Oh, no, Dad!" I exclaimed, feeling a surge of panic rise within me. "I really need your help. Where the hell am I going to find someone else who knows about constitutional law?"

The urgency in my voice seemed to catch my father's attention, his expression softening with concern. "I understand, sweetheart," he said gently, "But I really have to leave soon. Is there anyone else you can reach out to for help?"

I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed by the thought of finding someone else to assist me on such short notice. "I don't know, Dad you're the only one I trust to help me with this."

"Well, I know of someone who could help you," my dad suggested, his tone thoughtful.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his hint. "Who do you have in mind.

My dad hesitated for a moment before answering, "Spencer Reid."

Spencer and I had a history of butting heads, constantly at odds with each other. He seemed to harbor a deep-seated animosity towards me, viewing me as irresponsible and reckless. Our personalities clashed at every turn; he was the epitome of a straight-laced, by-the-book good boy, while I reveled in pushing boundaries and challenging authority.

It didn't take long for me to realize that I could get under his skin by flirting with him when no one else was around. It was like he was going crazy because I only did it when alone with him or when no one seemed to notice. And it wasn't like he could accuse me outright. After all, I was younger and his boss's daughter, so who would believe his crazy theories?

So what better way to annoy the brilliant, uptight Spencer Reid than to play with his emotions and disrupt his carefully controlled world? I knew it was a dangerous game, but I couldn't resist the thrill.

The only one who knew about my provocations and how annoyed Spencer got was Derek, and he always told Spencer he only got so mad because he knew he was attracted to me but couldn't lay a finger on me or Hotch would kill him. Spencer always denied it, but I share the same opinion as Derek.

With the passing years I noticed a subtle shift in Spencer's demeanor, while my flirtatious antics had initially left him flustered and embarrassed, over time, he seemed to grow more confident in his responses. No longer did he react with the same level of embarrassment as before.

Despite Spencer's growing confidence, the frustration I could provoke in him never truly dissipated. If anything, it seemed to intensify as he became more accustomed to my teasing. To an outsider, he appeared calm and composed, but beneath the surface, he was like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

Asking Spencer for his help would be no easy task. I knew he would likely deny it, given our history of butting heads and the tension that simmered between us. Despite his expertise in constitutional law, I couldn't shake the feeling that he would refuse to assist me, simply out of spite or a desire to avoid any further interaction with me.

"Dad, I appreciate the suggestion, but I don't think Spencer would be willing to assist me," I said hesitantly, choosing my words carefully.

“What? No! Of course he is; I know you two aren't that close, but he is definitely more than happy to help," he asserted confidently.

Before I could protest, my dad immediately dialed the number on the phone. "Spencer, can you come by my office, please?" He spoke to the receiver with authority. I watched in disbelief as my dad took charge of the situation, seemingly unfazed by any potential reservations I had about seeking Spencer's assistance.

As the call went through, a knot formed in my stomach, uncertainty gnawing at me. I felt a sense of resignation wash over me, realizing that protesting now would only complicate things further. With a heavy sigh, I decided to stay silent, choosing instead to lay back on the chair and stare up at the ceiling, lost in my thoughts as I waited for the impending arrival of Spencer.

Shortly after, a knock was heard at the front door, and I could feel my heart race with anticipation. "Come on in," my father said.

"You called for me, sir?" Spencer's voice filled the room as he entered, his presence commanding attention. "Reid, hi. Please, sit down," my dad gestured towards a chair.

As Spencer's eyes immediately locked with mine, I rose from my seat to allow him to take it. With deliberate steps, I made my way to stand behind my father, positioning myself so that Spencer's gaze was met with my silent presence looming over him.

"Well, Spencer," my dad began, his tone measured as he addressed him, "I asked you to come here because Y/n has a paper to do for constitutional law, and she requested my help, but I have to leave. So, I was wondering if maybe you could help her."

As my dad spoke, I could sense Spencer's hesitation growing. His eyes darted up to me, and I gave him the smuggest grin I could have mastered, relishing the irony of the situation and how much I was enjoying it.

With a sense of satisfaction, I observed Spencer's struggle to hide his unease. He was caught between wanting to keep his cool and not wanting to help me. If I had asked him myself, he probably would've refused just out of spite. But now, with my dad asking so nicely, Spencer had no way out. He couldn't say no to my father.

"Yeah, um," Spencer cleared his throat, his discomfort palpable. "I could help her," he reluctantly conceded, his words laced with annoyance.

I couldn't help but smile widely at Spencer's visible frustration, reveling in the satisfaction of knowing he was forced to comply with my father's request. Meanwhile, my dad remained oblivious to the tension in the room, with his head down and his attention focused solely on the paperwork before him.

Spencer's gaze bore into mine, and his eyes narrowed with irritation. "Anything else, sir?" He inquired, his tone tinged with impatience.

"No, that's all. Thank you very much," my dad says, briefly looking up from the files and giving Spencer a slight smile. "But if you two need to schedule a time to work, please do it outside. I just really need to finish this," he adds, his tone slightly rushed.

I seize the moment to kiss my father's cheek, bidding him farewell with a soft, "Have a great trip, dad. Say hi to Beth for me" and with that, I stepped out of his office. Spencer was already making his way towards the break room as I closed the door.

As I entered the room, I found Spencer already brewing some coffee, so I stood by his side, leaning against the counter.

"That was so sweet of you, Spencer, agreeing to help me out," I remarked, my words dripping with irony as I playfully mocked him.

"Don't be difficult, Y/n," Spencer responded in a frustrated tone, still focused on the task at hand and not bothering to look at me.

With a sly grin, I spoke, "I have to admit, Spencer, the idea of having a taste of Professor Reid excites me very much." My words were casual but tinged with a hint of mischief, aimed at both teasing him and stoking his frustration.

Spencer paused in his task, his grip tightening on the handle of the coffee pot, as my words hung in the air between us. Slowly, he turned to face me, his expression unreadable as he met my gaze. "Y/n, you know I'm only helping because your father asked me to," he replied evenly, his voice tight with restraint.

"Oh, Professor, don't be so uptight," I purred, "After all, who wouldn't jump at the chance to learn from a man like you?"

I watched with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction as Spencer's gaze shifted upwards to the ceiling, his breathing growing deeper as he fought to regain his composure.

His jaw clenched tightly, and the muscles in his neck were visibly tensing as he battled to suppress his rising frustration. Despite his efforts, I could see the simmering irritation beneath the surface, a testament to the effect my teasing was having on him.

Spencer's gaze flickered back down to meet mine, his expression a blend of annoyance and resignation. "Y/n, this is not the time or place for your... games," he replied, his voice firm and authoritative.

Undeterred by his stern tone, I leaned in closer, the corners of my lips curling into a playful smile. "Oh, Spencer, where's your sense of adventure?" I whispered huskily, my voice laced with mischief. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little excitement."

His gaze hardened, a flicker of irritation flashing in his eyes before he regained control. "I'm not afraid of anything," he retorted, his tone sharp. "But I have more important things to focus on than dealing with your incessant need for attention."

I couldn't help but chuckle softly, my amusement bubbling up as I continued to push his buttons. "Oh, Spencer," I teased, my voice dripping with mock sympathy. "It must be exhausting being so uptight all the time. Maybe you just need to loosen up a bit."

As Spencer's frustration simmered beneath the surface, I leaned in closer, the twinkle in my eyes daring him to retaliate. "Come on, don't tell me you're getting worked up over a little harmless banter," I continued, my tone laced with provocation. "Maybe you're just not up for the challenge."

Spencer's frustration reached its peak, evident in the sharpness of his tone. "You know what? Just email me the paper requirements. I'll write it for you," he said tersely, his patience worn thin. "I don't want to have to deal with you."

With that, the door swung open, revealing Rossi.

"Uncle Dave!" I exclaimed with excitement, unable to contain my joy at seeing him. I rushed forward and enveloped him in a warm hug.

Rossi raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I didn't know you were here, kiddo," he remarked, returning the hug with a smile.

"Oh, I came to ask Dad to help me with a paper," I explained, my voice tinged with faux innocence, "but he couldn't help, so he asked Spencer." With a subtle smirk, I continued, "And uncle Dave, Spencer was so kind, he offered to write it for me; do you believe it?"

Rossi chuckled at my explanation, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Well, it looks like you've got yourself quite the helper," he remarked with a grin, nodding towards Spencer.

I glanced back at Spencer, noting the hint of annoyance still lingering in his expression as he poured his coffee. It was clear my teasing had gotten under his skin more than I'd anticipated, but the satisfaction of seeing him flustered outweighed any guilt I might have felt. His irritation was palpable as he begrudgingly accepted the task of writing my paper, his movements stiff with frustration.

"Well, anyway, thanks, Spencer," I said, a playful grin spreading across my lips. "You were a real sweetheart for agreeing to write it. I've got to run now, but I'll shoot you an email with all the details. Kinda need it ready by Monday, okay?" I added, punctuating my words with a playful wink. "You're the best, Spence."

With those words, I leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, a mischievous twinkle in my eye as I knew it would only leave him more annoyed. Ignoring his exasperated sigh, I waved my goodbyes at Rossi and made my exit.

As I walked away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at how effortlessly I had turned the situation to my advantage, leaving Spencer to deal with the consequences of his reluctant agreement.

—x—

Friday came around, and I spent the afternoon hastily preparing my house for the party, rushing to stock up on booze and snacks. As the sun dipped below the horizon, my friends began to trickle in.

The party unfolded beneath the starlit sky, casting a dreamy glow over the backyard pool area. Colorful lights twinkled around the pool, illuminating the water in shades of blue and green. Laughter and chatter filled the air as guests mingled around the pool, their voices blending with the rhythmic beats of the music.

I had a full-on bar set up, stocked with all sorts of booze, beer, cocktails, you name it. Bottles of beer and liquor lined the counter, while colorful cocktails were expertly mixed and poured into plastic cups. The backyard was packed with all sorts of random people, just having a blast. Music was pumping, and bodies were moving everywhere. Everyone was enjoying themselves and letting loose.

In one corner, a game of beer pong was in full swing, and I was getting my pong on, sinking shots, and taking names like a boss.

Amidst the laughter and cheers, a random guy's voice cut through, calling out to someone nearby. "Yo, guys, the cops are here!" he exclaimed, his words sending a wave of panic through the crowd. The comment caught my attention, and I glanced up from the game, scanning the room until my gaze landed on Derek, who had just arrived.

"Guys, don't worry, it´s just my big brother!" I yelled, "And he is not a cop; he is actually FBI, but he is NOT A SNITCH!" I slurred my words as I rushed to hug Derek. "And ladies, he is singleeeeeeeeee! So feel free to shoot your shot!!"

Derek chuckled at my introduction, playfully rolling his eyes at my antics. With a grin, he accepted the attention, raising a hand in acknowledgment to the crowd.

"You came!" I exclaimed, my excitement bubbling over as I jumped up and down in front of him like I was a little kid meeting their idol for the first time.

"Of course I came; you invited me, so I had to come," he replied with a chuckle, his tone affectionate as I hugged by his side.

"I'm glad you're here. I have a great friend for you to meet," I said, eager to introduce him to someone new.

"I actually brought someone with me," he said, looking down at me.

"What? You dirty dog... Who's the lucky girl?" I asked, surprised by his unexpected response.

"Well," Derek chuckled, trying to contain a laugh, "his name is Spencer."

I playfully smacked his bicep, a grin spreading across my face. "What? Really? I thought you had a girlfriend for a moment."

Derek shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Nah, I just brought Pretty Boy with me." As he spoke, I couldn't help but glance around the lively crowd, searching for any sign of Spencer amidst the sea of partygoers.

"Well, where is he anyway?" I inquired.

"Oh, he said he had some files that he needed to drop," Derek replied nonchalantly, his gaze drifting over the house. "He's probably in your office."

I made my way inside the house, the sound of laughter and music fading away as the door closed behind me. Traversing through the familiar halls, I eventually entered the office. Spencer stood by the desk, his attention focused on a document as he scribbled away.

"Is that my paper?" I asked, my excitement evident as I quickly moved to stand by his side.

Spencer glanced up, a condescending smirk spreading across his face. "Yeah," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "I just needed to cut something out. It sounded too smart to be written by you."

"Well, I must say, Spencer, I'm impressed with how quickly you wrote the paper," I teased, my voice laced with faux innocence.

Spencer's jaw clenched tightly, his frustration evident as he fought to maintain his composure. "You know, Y/n, if you actually put in the effort, maybe you wouldn't need someone else to write your papers for you," he retorted, his tone sharp with irritation.

I sat on top of the desk, a mischievous glint in my eyes as I locked gazes with Spencer. "Well, aren't you just the sweetest for helping out a damsel in distress?" I teased, a playful smirk playing on my lips. "Guess I owe you one now, huh?"

He took a deep breath, his hands slipping into his pockets as he regarded me with a knowing look. "Don't you start, Y/n," he warned, his voice laced with annoyance.

I chuckled softly, enjoying the way I could always push his buttons with just a few words. "Start what, Spencer?" I replied innocently, batting my eyelashes exaggeratedly. "I'm just expressing my gratitude for your generous assistance."

Spencer shook his head, "You know exactly what you're doing," he countered.

I leaned in forward in his direction, my playful demeanor masking the underlying tension between us. "Do I, Spencer?" I asked, my voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Or are you just imagining things?"

Spencer's gaze held mine, a mixture of exasperation and something else flickering in his eyes. "You're impossible," he murmured.

A smirk played on my lips as I traced a finger along the edge of the desk, enjoying the way he couldn't tear his eyes away from me. "And yet, here you are, still falling for my tricks,".

Spencer's lips twitched with a hint of amusement, though he tried to maintain a facade of indifference. "I'm not falling for anything, Y/n”

I chuckled softly, "Sure, Spencer," I lightly patted his chest. "Keep telling yourself that."

As Spencer leaned forward, he rested his hands on the desk under me, his presence engulfing me. I felt a rush of anticipation course through my veins as his hands laid on either side of my thighs, sending a jolt of electricity through me as our skin touched.  

"Is that a threat, Spencer?" I whispered, my voice laced with a mixture of challenge and intrigue.

His lips curled into a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly with amusement. "Not a threat, Y/n," he replied, his tone softening as he leaned in even closer, his breath ghosting over my lips. "A promise."

"You know, Spencer," I murmured, "Sometimes I wonder if you've got what it takes to handle someone like me."

"Oh, really?" he replied, raising an eyebrow "And what makes you say that, Y/n?"

"Well, let's just say," I whispered, my voice filled with mischief, "I've seen the way you tiptoe around me, like I'm some delicate flower that might wilt at your touch."

Spencer's expression softened slightly, "Ah, yes," he conceded, his head fell back slightly as he sighed "the boss's daughter, untouchable and off-limits.

"Exactly," I replied, "And let's not forget, I'm also significantly younger than you. Double challenge, isn't it?

Spencer's amusement faded, replaced by a hint of seriousness as he regarded me. "You know, Y/n," he began, “playing this game, using your position as Hotch´s daughter to your advantage... It's risky."

I raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Risky? How so, Spencer?" I asked, my voice carrying a hint of challenge.

His gaze hardened, and the warmth in his eyes was replaced by a steely decisiveness. "Because one day, you might push me too far," he replied, "One day, I might not be able to hold back anymore."

I felt a shiver run down my spine at the seriousness of his tone, the underlying threat sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through me. Despite my playful facade, I couldn't deny the flicker of apprehension that sparked within me at the thought of what Spencer might be capable of if pushed to his limit. But instead of backing down, I met his gaze head-on, a defiant glint in my eyes.

"Is that a warning, Spencer?" I countered, my voice steady despite the racing of my heart. "Or a promise?"

"You always get what you want, don't you?" He remarked chuckling, his breath warm against my the skin of my neck.

I met his gaze with a sly smile, reveling in the tension that crackled between us. "Only when I set my mind to it,"

Spencer's lips quirked into a half-smile as he retorted, "No one likes a brat."

"But you seem to tolerate me just fine, Spencer," I teased, my voice dripping with mock innocence.

Toleration doesn't mean I actually like your attitude. Maybe you need to be taught some manners." Spencer's tone was firm.

"Oh, Spencer," I replied, "I didn't realize you were volunteering for the job."

Spencer's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he regained his composure. "Don't push your luck, Y/n," he warned.

But I couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him further and see just how far I could push him. Leaning in closer, I let my breath brush against his ear as I whispered, "Or what, Spencer? You'll finally lose your cool and show me what you're really made of."

His jaw clenched, a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes as he resisted the urge to react. "You're playing with fire, Y/n," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of warning and desire.

A thrill coursed through me at the knowledge that I was getting under his skin, that I had the power to unravel him with just a few carefully chosen words. Ignoring the warning bells ringing in the back of my mind, I leaned back with a smirk, my eyes alight with mischief. "Then let's see who gets burned first,"

I quipped, grabbing his tie and pulling him closer. Our faces were inches apart as our lips collided for the first time. Our kiss was hot and hungry, tongues clashing, our mouths grappling for dominance. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as his hand traveled down the small of my back. Our bodies pressed together tightly, the heat radiating from within only adding to the intensity of the moment.

My breath quickened as our lips pulled apart, and my fingers tangled in his hair as I slowly pulled away. My heart thumped in my chest, my body humming with a rush of pleasure. Spencer's eyes were glazed, his breath coming in sharp, shallow breaths as he stared at me.

With a sly grin, I pulled back slightly, "Careful, Spencer," I murmured, my voice low and teasing, "Are you sure you want to keep playing this game?"

Spencer was still breathing heavily, and his eyes focused on me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. My body buzzed with pleasure, and I felt myself melting into his touch.

"Only if you can handle it," His voice was hoarse, as though he were gripping onto his composure by a thread. "And I think we're beyond the point of asking if I want this to keep going... don't you?"

I swallowed; my voice was as low as a whisper. "You tell me."

His hands traveled down my back, his thumb caressing my hip with slow, deliberate strokes. "Don't play games with me," he murmured, his voice trembling with desire.

My breath caught in my throat as Spencer's lips grazed my neck, and I could feel my body reacting to his touch. Spencer's words were hot as they hit near my ear, sending shivers down my spine as his hands continued their exploration of my body.

"I'm not playing games," I whispered, my body trembling as his hands traveled lower, slowly moving towards my thighs. I shivered but made no attempt to move away, knowing that he wanted me to stay right where I was.

"Then what are you doing?" Spencer asked, his voice low as he gripped my waist, pulling me closer. "Because to me, it seems like you're asking for more."

"I'm not asking for anything," I chuckled, "I'm letting you take what you want."

Now was his turn to let out a chuckle "And what exactly do I want?" his voice filled with amusement, as he lifted my dress up until it covered my hips, his hands still firmly gripping my bare ass.

I swallowed hard, my body trembling as he played with me, his fingers gripping me hard. My breath caught in my throat, and my head tilted back, my body yielding to his touch.

"I think I want to hear you say it," Spencer murmured, his voice low, his eyes burning into mine.

Spencer's gaze locked onto mine. I could see the conflict playing out in his mind—the struggle to reconcile his desires with the reality of our situation.

"You want to fuck me, Spencer; you always have," I asserted confidently, refusing to back down. "But you were just afraid of crossing that line, of stepping into forbidden territory. Afraid of what it would mean to want someone like me… Hotch´'s daughter,"

Spencer's lips curled into a faint smile, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. "You know what they say," he chuckled softly. "The forbidden fruit is always the most desired."

"So, what do you say, Spencer?" I tested him, "Are you ready to take a bite?"

"I think I'm ready for more than just a bite," Spencer replied, his words full of aggression as he leaned in closer. I shivered as his hand traveled down between us, stroking the lace of my panties with his fingertips. At an excruciatingly slow pace, his touch grazed the soft material that covered the skin. I couldn't help but squirm against him, my breath coming in short, as my body tightened in anticipation. I let out a light moan, and Spencer chuckled in response.

The anticipation was killing me; his fingers were slowly caressing my sensitive bud, just teasingly enough to send shivers down my spine. His touch was gentle but insistent, and his fingers were enough to drive me wild with desire.

I couldn't help but move against him, his breath in my ear and his fingertips grazing my covered skin. It was exquisite torture, leaving me desperate for more, and Spencer knew it.

I let out a soft moan, unable to contain myself anymore, as he moved the lacy fabric aside to gain full access to where I wanted him most. His touch was tender but firm, his finger tracing upward on my wet slit.

"Please, Spencer," I moaned, my body shaking with desire.

"What's that? I couldn't hear you," he answered, his voice low and steady as he chuckled.

"You talk too much," I whispered, my voice husky with desire. My hands traveled between us, reaching for his, and I guided his fingertips to my entrance, pushing them inside. As his fingers filled me up, a soft moan escaped my lips, the sensation sending shivers down my spine.

Spencer's face was a mixture of surprise and desire at my bold actions, his eyes darkening with a hunger that mirrored my own. My quiet cries of pleasure filled the room as he moved his fingers in and out.

His eyes fixed on mine as my face twisted in ecstasy, his grip solid yet delicate as he grabbed the back of my neck.

"Hey, hey, hey," Spencer warned, “Eyes on me," he gestured with his free hand for me to look him in the eyes. "I want to see your face when you cum on my fingers."

I felt both embarrassed and eager all at once, but I couldn't resist the lure of his challenge. His voice was low, and there was a hint of authority in his tone. Feeling a rush of heat flood my face, my gaze shifted between his face and watching his fingers move inside of me.

My eyes widened as I felt myself teetering on the brink of ecstasy, every nerve in my body alive with anticipation. The intensity of Spencer's gaze only fueled the fire within me, pushing me closer and closer to my breaking point.

"Fuck, Spencer, I'm... I'm gonna..." I struggled to form the sentence as waves of pleasure crashed over me, rendering me speechless.

"You're gonna cum, pretty girl?" he asked, a sweet look of anticipation in his eyes.

I could only nod my head before it fell back in pleasure, and a throaty moan escaped my lips.  A look of satisfaction crossed his face, and I could feel the pleasure all over my body. I closed my eyes, just taking in the sensation.

"Yeah, just like that," he said as he withdrew his fingers, his gaze locked on mine, savoring the moment. He put his fingers into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Oh, it's even better than I imagined," he said with a soft moan escaping his lips.

I captured his lips, still tasting the remnants of my desire, and pulled him into another heated kiss. With skill, my hands flew to his belt, swiftly undoing it as I eagerly wanted him inside of me.

He pulled his clothes down, freeing himself, breaking away from our kiss momentarily to look down as he stroked himself a few times. His breath hitched with a low groan. I watched him intently, my own desire mounting with each passing moment.

With a hunger that burned hotter than ever, I leaned forward, my lips trailing along his jawline as I whispered, "Don't keep me waiting, Spence."

And so he didn´t.

"Oh fuck..." I moaned as I watched him sink into me with ease, his head falling to the crook of my neck as his jaw clenched in pleasure. My walls gripped him tightly as he bottomed out, filling me completely. My eyes widened as he thrust for the first time with a force that left me breathless. His movements were primal, fueled by a raw passion that consumed us both. I could feel every inch of him as he thrust, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.

Spencer's lips curled into a devilish smirk as he leaned in closer, his breath tickling my ear. "You like that, Y/n?" he whispered "You like feeling my cock inside of you.?”

I squirmed beneath him, unable to form a coherent response as his words sent shivers down my spine. "Spencer," I gasped, my voice barely a whisper, "shut up… just... keep going."

Spencer's lips curled into a sly grin as he leaned back slightly, his gaze locking with mine. "You always have to get what you want, don't you, Y/n?"

Spencer's lips curled into a sly grin as he leaned back slightly, his gaze locking with mine. "You always have to get what you want, don't you, Y/n?" He teased, “You wouldn't give up until I fucked you senseless."

"You're enjoying this as much as I am," I replied "Don't act like you're innocent in all of this."

Spencer's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, believe me, Y/n," he whispered huskily, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As Spencer's thrusts grew more forceful, I found myself succumbing to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over me with each movement. The rhythm of our bodies colliding echoed in the room, filling the air with the sounds of our shared desire. My nails dug into his back, my fingers clutching onto him desperately.

Spencer's movements were primal, driven by a raw passion that ignited a fire within me. With each thrust, I felt myself spiraling closer to the edge, my body on the brink of ecstasy as he pushed me further and further. I couldn't help but lose myself in the intensity of the moment, my mind clouded by the overwhelming pleasure that consumed every fiber of my being.

“I need to cum, spence, please," I practically begged, my voice thick with desire.

Spencer's smirk widened. "You want to cum on my cock, baby?" he teased, his voice dripping with lust.

My answer was a breathless "Yes, please, yes," barely more than a whimper, as I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me.

With one last, hard thrust, Spencer pushed me over the edge, and I rode the waves of ecstasy crashing over me.

"Fuck, yes!" He cried out as my body trembled with the force of my climax. And as I reached the peak of my pleasure, Spencer found his own release, his body tensing against mine. With a final, primal grunt, he pulled out, his hot release spilling over my thigh.

The room was filled with heavy, tense silence as we both caught our breath, the aftermath of our heated encounter hanging thick in the air. Spencer's hand moved gently, cleaning me up with tissues he picked from the box behind me on the desk.

"This can't happen again," he reiterated, as he threw away the tissues, his voice firm “It's risky. Hotch wouldn't hesitate to shoot me if he found out," he chuckled nervously.

I nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of his words. "I know," my gaze dropped to the floor.

"But God…" He approached me again, his hands cupped my face. "That was something else," he murmured, brushing his lips against mine. "It's going to be hard to stay away from you, now that I know how you taste, and how good you feel around me." Spencer's lips met mine once more, kissing me sweetly. "It's going to be hard to resist you."

I teased, my voice laced with a playful tone. "And you can bet I’ll make your job harder"

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Spencer's lips curled into a small smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But seriously, this… this can never happen, okay?" He emphasized, "We can't tell anyone about this. Not even Derek."

"I understand," I replied, my voice soft "Our secret stays just between us."

He nodded in agreement, a sense of relief washing over him as he realized I understood the importance of discretion. "Good," he murmured as he kissed my forehead.

—x—-

As Monday rolled around, Spencer arrived at the office and settled into his desk. Before he could even get started on his work, Derek immediately approached him, leaning in with a sly grin. "Hey there, pretty boy," he says, his voice low but teasing tone.

Spencer looked up, "Hey, what's up?"

Derek leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, what happened last Friday? You left the party early, man. Everything alright?"

Spencer hesitates, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. "Uh, yeah, I wasn't feeling too well. I thought it was best to head home."

"Feeling under the weather, huh?” Derek chuckles, not buying it for a second.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as Derek's teasing hit a nerve. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he stammered awkwardly, "Yeah, I was just not feeling right."

"So, you didn't hear anything when you were inside the house?" Derek whispered.

Spencer's heart raced, realizing Derek might know more than he's letting on. "What would I even hear?"

Derek's grin widened as he leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. "See... when I went inside to look for you, because Y/n went to look for you but you two never came out…. And then I heard a couple getting it on in Hotch's office, and I was just wondering if you knew who it was. I want to know all the juicy deets."

Spencer's face flushes crimson but he maintained a facade of innocence, refusing to betray any hint of guilt. He cleared his throat, “Ah, well, you know how it is at these gatherings," his tone was light but his pulse racing. "People can get carried away. But as for the identity of that mysterious couple, I'm afraid I'm just as clueless as you are, Derek."

Derek chuckles knowingly, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Sure, Spencer, whatever you say," Derek pats Spencer's back in a mockingly sympathetic gesture, "But next time, maybe find a quieter spot than Hotch's office. It's hard to keep things discreet when the walls are practically paper-thin."

[minervamagicka]

[SSO Conversion] TS4 Dressage Saddle

At last! It is nigh! Includes 3 different saddles in 2 different polycounts (~13 swatches), with 1 saddlepad overlay (~14 swatches) that is universal to them all. Full LODs & maps.

If you post anything involving this saddle to tumblr & tag me in it, I'll be reblogging!

Important info, additional previews, TOU and download below the cut!

By myself & Schrodcat @ DA 🖤

Choosing a Version

First things first; in the download folder there are two different .rar files to choose from. One is labelled Highpoly and the other is labelled Maxispoly. YOU MUST CHOOSE ONE. THEY WILL OVERRIDE EACHOTHER IF YOU INSTALL BOTH HIGHPOLY AND MAXISPOLY TOGETHER.

The Highpoly version of the saddles is the original mesh resolution from Star Stable Online (which is surprisingly high-quality). However, taking into account the 3D pad and whether there are stirrups or not, it pushes the saddle very far out of EA's expected polycount range (the LOD0 on the Highpoly w/ stirrups clocks in at ~6,044 polys) which is why we have labelled this version as Highpoly. We offer it primarily for simmers who plan to be taking screenshots vs actually playing the game for extended periods of time, or for those with stronger PCs.

The Maxispoly version of the saddle is a decimated version of the mesh intended to be more in-line with Maxis polycounts, and therefore be more performance-friendly. It's about 50% less dense in polys than the Highpoly counterpart (LOD0 on the Maxis w/ stirrups clocks in at ~3,021 polys), however it is still higher-poly than the EA saddles, but again this is because it includes additional mesh details like a 3D saddlepad and/or stirrups, just bear that in mind. This version is for simmers who might have weaker PCs or intend to primarily play the game with the saddles.

Once you've chosen between Highpoly and Maxispoly for your saddle, you'll want to grab the saddlepad overlay .package. This saddlepad (it is found in blankets in CAS) acts like an accessory overlay you'd see for Human content, where it will replace the saddlepad texture on your saddle. You can use the saddlepad overlay without the saddle, but it's not exactly designed for that, as it's designed to match the UVs of the 3D saddlepad. It's unlikely it would fit the EA saddle or any other saddles as just as a flat 2D texture.

All the parts included have custom thumbnails, with the EA fit version having a special identifier.

That concludes all the required reading. Please note that the Realistic Fit of the saddles is not going to line up with EA riding animations and may stretch horribly on them, too. This is because it was rigged and weighted specifically for pose makers. It should look fine when posing. If you want a saddle to fit the EA animations, then the EA Fit version is precisely that, and is meant for gameplay exclusively. The saddlepad overlays are cross-compatible between the Realistic Fit and EA Fit saddles, & any custom saddlepads made by other creators, provided they're intended to fit the UVs, will also be cross-compatible!

Custom Saddlepad Resources (CC Creators Only)

Disclaimer: If you're not a CC Creator you can skip this section and move on to the TOU & download!

If you're interested in making your own saddlepad overlays, I highly recommend cloning the saddlepad overlay included in this download as a starting point. This saddlepad/blanket actually has a "mesh" attached to it (it's just the part of the horse GEOM where the saddlepad texture is) to allow for full normal maps, allowing for better-detail in your saddlepads. Otherwise, you can clone the EA saddlepads and just replace the diffuses with ones you make to fit this saddle, it just won't have that extra jazz.

Anyways, included the folder is a .psd file which is meant to help streamline making saddlepads to fit this mesh (and any future Dressage Saddle meshes/swatches) - There's a guide in the .psd but in general, just keep your textures within the mask/provided guide UVs in the .psd and you'll be golden!

Terms of Use

Credit/link to me AND Schrodcat AND note it is a conversion from SSO if you intend to edit, replicate or otherwise use this .package, meshes & textures as a base for your own derivative work. Additionally, at this time, we both ask you do not backport this model or its' textures to TS3.

Do not sell or post behind a paywall, even a timed one. This tumblr is anti-paywall to the extreme. This includes any content that might be created under Rule One. Do not do this. I will think you are an asshole. I have had issues with this in the past and my tolerance for it is absolutely zero. Additionally this asset is exported from a copyrighted game with the intention of it being used transformatively for derivative fanworks; it may be actually illegal to profit from it!

Do not reupload. If you let me know if there's an issue with SFS, I'll reupload it myself. Please link to this post or to the .package on SFS when sharing.

Credits: SSO for the base mesh & textures; Schrodcat with fitting the meshes & testing/screenshots, me for putting it all together into one diabolical package.

Download [SFS]

☕ Buy me a coffee!

☕ Buy SchrodCat a coffee!

[shrimzical]

AANG ＆ OZAI PARALLELS: DEBUNKED

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

Because apparently the true villain is the sole survivor of a genocide of his entire nation, and not the imperialist colonizer.

Where do I even begin?? Because I’m genuinely holding in laughter writing this, it’s absolutely insane how certain people can make such egregious parallels that aren’t even found in the first place. 

AH, so a little backstory on how this fucking shit stained idea even came to existence, well our dear z^tara fans pissed their pants over Zuko and Katara not tying the knot, so, as a way of retribution for their supposed “honour” They take any chance to jump on the Aang hate train and make him into some irredeemable abusive demon, aaand they got that perfect opportunity because the LoK decided to take a lick out of the great “Main Characters Must Be Bad Parents In The Sequels” Trope. Which personally, does absolutely nothing to the protagonists resolution aside from cheap family drama but I digress. 

Now, I’m not behind the idea of the writers trying to make Aang a “flawed” Parent, I think it really makes no sense by how they went about it, (I might touch on this in another post) 

((And it’s so very clear that they’re trying to give it a soft “retcon” And even taking extra steps saying that Kya and Bumi just “remember wrong” Which I’ll actually take, because season two of LOK was hell on earth anyway so you might as well give it some saving grace.)) 

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

There’s three main parallels that they got from Ozai and Aang: (god help me)

Favouring a child

isolating the rest

leaving pressure On the golden child

I’m going to debunk all three of them while trying not to fall into complete lunacy over how ridiculous they are. 

Favouring a child + Leaving pressure: 

OK, so people are clearly blind with context clues and media comprehension, got it. No surprise whatsoever. I can’t be disappointed if I didn’t even have any expectations to begin with. 

Let’s compare the treatment on how Ozai treats Azula, and how Aang treats Tenzin. (Holy Shit)

Beginning with Ozai, well.. It doesn’t take much of a rocket scientist to understand that Ozai essentially could not give two fucks about Azula, as she in essence, serves the role of an attack dog, as long as it does its job, it’s worthy. 

Ozai favoured Azula because she was molded to match his ferocity and hunger for power, she was a prodigy bender, and was cunning and calculated, all traits that Ozai found endearing and someone worthy to be crowned the next “fire lord.” His “favouring” Of her didn’t come out of genuine love or care, she is his tool who serves a purpose. In short, she showed more competency and more ruthlessness and callousness in comparison to Zuko. Which earned her, her place as the “Golden Child.”  

-------

None of this is even remotely similar to how Aang treated Tenzin and his kids, aside from the fact he supposedly “favoured” Tenzin more, but that is such a baseline statement and has absolutely no relation with Ozai's reasons.

You have to understand that an entire FUCKING NATION IS DEAD. History, Culture, Tradition, is at the BRINK of being wiped out, Tenzin is quite literally the only Airbender that will be left after Aangs passing. Why do people devalue this concept so much? 

“B-BUT THE AIR ACOLYTES1!!” Still have limited knowledge, airbending is so heavily tied to its spiritual roots, you LOSE your ability to AIRBEND, if you aren't inclined to your spiritual side. Which is a core part of the air nomad culture. Tenzin is... Literally the only god forsaken part left of that, so yeah. It’s a pretty big fucking deal. Aang values his culture and teachings to such a high degree, he is literally the survivor of a genocide. His favouring of Tenzin was done out of necessity and love, not out of a need for power and a new attack dog to send orders around. 

Tenzin will literally be the future “Director” Or guide for the next avatar to learn airbending, people still forget this, and it’s hilarious. He needs to know all the moves, all the teachings because he will be the next avatar's personal guide. 

Aang constantly reassures him, and apologizes for the pressure that may be put upon him but he always reaffirms that he’ll be there to guide him and they’ll “learn together”

---------

So yeah not the same thing at all. Fuck you for being so inept at understanding the different reasons and perspectives of those situations, just for some petty ship discourse, genuinely disgusting.

Isolating the children:

OK this part, I have to say that the writers definitely messed up with aangs characterization, but I think the execution came out way differently than the intention, so I will try to look more into the intention of each decision.

Ozai isolated Zuko, mistreated him, belittled him, PHYSICALLY ABUSED HIM, but yeah totally on par with Aang actually. 

I don’t wanna touch on this part much mainly because his treatment was literally explained all throughout the show, and granted, while I understand most of these people haven’t touched the show aside from reading fanfic 300000 Where Aang is revealed to us as satan himself, but perhaps, even a small peak at Ozai's parenting would reveal the laughable contrast between the two.

Zuko was a slow learner, and much more of a softie, and a “mama's boy” To Ozai’s heavy dislike, he was thus treated as such, he was belittled, turned down, and literally burnt alive for showing “weakness” He is meant to serve as a direct contrast to Azula, ”The everything he isn't.” 

Kya and Bumi on the other hand, don’t show any actual signs of trauma aside from some petty jabs they threw at Tenzin, 

Bumis talk with Aang at the statue was *very very* Clearly, meant to highlight his own inferiority complex that he internalized growing up. His need for proving himself to be capable of doing just as much if not more than a “bender” Probably happened because his two parents were both prodigy benders and him being a first born son who was a non-bender must’ve hit pretty hard for him, and I’m so sure that katara and Aang reassured how special he is but that kind of thing doesn’t really go away.

------

------

Kya: [while healing Bumi] I told you those rocks were slippery. You're lucky you didn't kill yourself.

Bumi: You done with the lecture, mom?

Kya: Oh, grow up. You haven't changed one bit since we were kids. You're still trying to prove you can do everything a bender can. Well, you can't. Deal with it.

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

 That talk with Aangs statue was very much meant to unveil an internal struggle rather than a conflict he had with his father. Kya even doubles down on this, telling him “of course he’d be proud of you” Basically spoon feeding to us, the viewers, that this is much more of internal than an external conflict that he has to overcome along the show. 

“Why Didn’t he share his culture with them 1!!1!” 

He most definitely did, or tried to, but it’s clear they didn’t show much interest so he didn’t pester, this is shown many times throughout the show. 

“You know I could never keep all those gurus straight… There were like a million of them!

remember that long boring story about the guy who never ate?”

This is literally Kya’s remark to Tenzin just after he tried teaching the airbender students this story, basically telling us that Aang DID try to tell them about his stories and culture, but much to their disinterest, didn’t try any further. 

And Bumi, literally could not pay attention to the story to save his life, and instead decided to fool around in his literal 60’s!! I mean Imagine what he was like when he was a kid!! 

I could imagine their dynamic was very similar to Jinora with Meelo and Ikki, Tenzin being the only one with actual interest and care, whilst Bumi and Kya goofing off and not putting much focus onto it. WHICH IS FINE BTW!! 

It only goes to reiterate that Tenzin was the only one who was actually giving interest and attention to the air nomad culture, and it was of Kya and Bumi’s own personal choice to not partake in it. To each their own I see. 

“BUT WHAT ABOUT THE VACATIONS” 

This.. I agree, weird for the writers to decide this, but given how they low-key are retconning it in interviews, my best guess is that each of those trips were side-quests during their journey to teach an important lesson that might’ve just drowned out because Tenzin may not have remembered it as well. 

Also keep in mind that Tenzin was put into a lot of pressure, Aang probably saw this, and as a way to still keep it enjoyable, he took him to trips that would help ease the mind for a little kid whilst also learning something valuable. That seems pretty on brand for Aang actually

And given that Kya and Bumi are literally in their fucking 60’s it wouldn’t surprised me if they didn’t have the greatest memory. Hell, they didn’t even fault Aang as a parent until Tenzin started boasting about “trips” That Kya and Bumi gave petty jabs but weren’t actually showing genuine hurt, just annoyance.

Kya even comments how Aang was too busy “Trying to save the world, and doing his duty that he didn't have much time for them” 

Phrasing as if it wasn't anything "important" But it's clear that this was Kya's own personal irritation towards Tenzin rather than an actual evaluation on Aang's duties.

A continuation comic best explains it in a deeper way:

----------

Literally showing that “neglecting” His kids wasn't up to him, and was out of a sense of necessity, trying to cram as much knowledge onto Tenzin, the only one who was basically putting his lessons into practices. Kya and Bumi were left feeling neglected. But that wasn’t out of his decision; he still loved them dearly.

-------

This. Literally highlighting how much pressure was forced upon Aang, so yes, as any person would, he struggled with making time for everybody. Holy shit who knew?? 

GASP!! IS THAT… A REALISTIC BUT UNDERSTANDABLE FLAW!!?? HOW DARE YOU! ITS OZAI #2 

The fact that the smiley energetic person forgets to SMILE, is a big deal, man was put through hells amount of stress but he never cracked.

So tell me, how is a genocidal freak, who treats his golden child like a tool and abuses the other both physically and emotionally for showing “weakness’ 

Even remotely comparable to

 the sole survivor of a genocide, trying to withhold his teachings and culture onto literally his only child that showed actual effort in doing so, while also maintaining the balance of an entire fucking world and being literally the biggest “advisor” And “Mentor” For society, OH! And also building and managing a literal city, but along the way struggling to make time for his children. 

Guess what, they’re not. And if you think they are. You are an idiot, with bias and headcanons.

So the conclusion is, Aang is a flawed parent, but he isn't a "bad" Parent - confirmed by the literal writers.

Comparing him to Ozai a literal dictator, is absolutely sickening, just for your petty shipping discourse when this show's been over for a decade is insane. Indulge in what you enjoy, but stop projecting delusions like they're canon.

:D

[differenteagletragedy]

I need to know how Cove would react to his baby coming out looking exactly like him - green hair and all 👀

"Ok. Ok. I got this," Cove said resolutely, quickly centering himself the way he did when he was trying desperately to be calm enough to handle something.

You always thought it was cute, how hard he still had to try sometimes to settle his nerves. You would have commented on it, but another contraction ripped through you then, leaving you doubled over in the living room the apartment you shared with Cove.

You were having a baby. Soon. And seeing you in so much pain was all Cove needed to move into action.

He was by your side in a second, gripping your arms and supporting you through the pain. He kept an eye on his watch while he did it, and when it was over, he said, "Time to go."

Slinging the bag you'd packed and left by the door over his shoulder, he put his arm around you and led you down to his car. He carefully helped you into the front seat, slung the bag in the back without a care, and hopped in the driver's side and started towards the hospital.

It was a short drive, but you had another contraction on the way over. Cove held your hand through it, and if you'd hurt his hand by bearing down with all your strength, he didn't react to it.

When you arrived, he all but carried you inside. You were quickly checked in and moved to a room. Cove gave them the information about your contractions, and it looked like it wouldn't be too long until it was time to push.

After calling your moms to let them know that it was time, he never left your side. He held your hand, endured your screaming, and encouraged you as best he could until finally your doctor announced that the baby's head was crowning.

Cove kept a firm grip on your hand -- not that he really had much of a choice with how tightly you were holding his -- but moved to take a peek at your child being born. You weren't paying too much attention to his expression, being otherwise occupied, but you did see that he was starting to get extra emotional.

When you'd finished your job of delivering the baby and he -- it was a boy, the doctor had cheerfully announced -- was placed on your chest, you were exhausted but so completely in love with your son. Cove moved back by you, leaning down plant several kisses along the side of your face as you looked at the baby.

"He's perfect," he whispered. "You did such a good job."

"He is," you agreed, "but I can't believe I spent nine months growing him for him to come out looking like your clone."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later, after you and the baby had gotten checked out and given a clean bill of health, the three of you were tucked away in your hospital room. Cove was perched on the edge of your bed, holding the little boy while you rested. He had him cradled close in his arms, looking down on him in awe like he had for the past several hours.

"He looks just like me," he said, glancing over at you. "But he's so cute."

"That's because you're so cute, Cove," you explained for probably the tenth time.

"But he's ... he's probably the most beautiful baby ever."

"And you're the most beautiful dad ever. I took biology with you in high school, I know you understand the basics of genetics."

Cove, with the lightest touch possible, moved a strand of the baby's seafoam green hair off to the side and a laid a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"It's crazy though," he went on. "It's not just the hair. That's my nose and my chin and everything."

"I know."

"The only thing that's different is his eyes, they're dark blue."

"They change, remember?" you told him. "When he gets older they'll probably change to his real color."

"Really?" he asked excitedly, the nodded. "That's right, I forgot. Maybe they'll be like yours though."

"Doubt it," you said with a smirk.

~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

About six months later, you were lying in bed, trying to get some much-needed rest. Cove was taking care of the baby while you took a nap, but as you started waking up, he burst in the bedroom, obviously excited but trying to be as quiet as possible.

"Are you awake?" he asked in a loud whisper.

"Yeah, is everything ok?" you answered.

He threw himself down on the bed, landing next to you on his stomach. He sported a triumphant smirk, looking as smug as you'd ever seen him.

"What is it?"

"His eyes," he said, wiggling his body and bumping it into yours. "They're getting lighter. Like mine."'

You groaned and put your pillow over your face. Cove had gotten cocky in the cutest way about how adorable your son was, and how much everyone said he looked like him. Now it was only going to get worse.

"We could always try for another baby," he offered, bumping into you again. "This one could end up looking like you. Probably not, since I obviously have the superior genetics, but there's a chance."

Without answering, you pressed the pillow down, pretending to smother yourself.

"Come on," he giggled, moving the pillow. "Would it really so bad to have another baby that looked like me?"

You looked over at him, so handsome and happy. Your lifelong best friend, your husband, and the devoted father of your child.

"No, I guess not," you smiled.

[hazyhae]

us | lhc

stoner!bestfriend!haechan x gn!reader

summary: high conversations turning into high confessions :)

cw: slight angst, fluff, use of weed/marijuana, mutual pining, anxieties about the future and comfort

wc: ~900

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

“what did you just say?” you ask your friend with wide eyes.

haechan looks at you, eyes droopy, chewing at his bottom lip with a nervous energy.

“n-no, forget it, i’m gone as hell right now,” he diverts, wishing so badly he could take back the words that slipped from his lips.

when you came to his place for your weekly smoke session, a dazed ramble as you watched the smoke rise around you somehow evolved into talking about your anxieties concerning your future - where you’d live, what you’d be doing, who you’d be with. having to plan for the rest of your life is a terrifying thing, and today’s high thoughts led you down this rabbit hole of worries.

haechan just listened carefully, not saying or doing much, and you thought he might be just processing. or maybe he was letting your words go in one ear and out the other, given how much weed you had smoked in the time you had been at his place.

“i just don’t know where life is going to take me, or if i even want to know right now. i feel like i’m just stuck in my own thoughts about my place in this world,” you rambled, hoping your high thoughts could help carry the weight from your heart. “i think too much.”

you didn’t expect haechan to answer, just content having him listen to you, but he did, and the quiet question that left his mouth was one you did not expect.

“do you ever think of us?” he asked lowly, tired red eyes flickering to meet yours.

and this leads to his wrists in your hands as you try to find some clarity in the haze. he holds his head low trying to keep his face from your vision as he refuses to answer, blaming the slip on the marijuana coursing through his system.

“just drop it okay?” he spits out, shaking his wrists from your hands. you move back, hurt seeping into your heart at your best friend’s treatment.

he knows it too, face finally falling into your vision, worry written in his expression as he immediately takes it back.

he lays a soft hand on top of yours.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to be so mean,” he mutters in a much gentler tone, squeezing your hand softly.

“what did you mean by that, hyuck?” you ask one more time.

he’s quiet for a second, before his gaze moves up to meet yours, bleary eyes just the tiniest bit more resolute.

“your future, everything you’re worried about.. is there any space there for me?” he asks, careful.

“you’re my best friend, of course there’s always going to be space for you,” you assure, but somehow, you get the feeling that the us he mentioned was not necessarily the best-friendship you’d grown over the years. and you hope so.

“no,” he says, hand now intertwining with yours. his other hand rubs at his face as he seems to make up his mind, the weed giving him that extra bit of courage he needs.

“i know you think of your future and it feels so scary to just be you in this big world, but do you think there could be an us in that world of yours?” he asks, words stronger than before. his hand feels warm against your own, and you swear you can hear his heart pounding. or maybe it’s yours.

“everyone around us seems to see it but you, but i like you so much more than a best friend should,” he admits. his hand trembles slightly as he lets out a heavy breath, out of breath from his own confession.

his eyes, which had held a quiet courage while telling you his feelings, now fall to your joined hands, playing with your fingers as he awaits your verdict. to see your usually rambunctious friend so docile, baited breath while anticipating your reaction, melts any barriers you have at letting your own true feelings out.

he gasps when you bring his hand to your lips, laying a soft kiss to the back of his hand. his heart soars.

“oh, hyuck, you’re so silly,” you chuckle as you pepper soft kisses on his knuckles. “i could say the same — that everyone seems to see it but you, but who knew we were in the same boat?”

haechan feels like he could cry, pulling his hand from yours to wrap his arms around you. he holds onto you tightly as he peppers kisses all over your face. he pulls away, arms still around you.

“then say you like me, too,” he pouts. your usual best friend is back, and he’s bringing with him even more than you could have asked for.

one thing in all the uncertainties of your life is sure.

you lean in closer to him, eyes drooping as you feel his warm breath.

“i like you, i like you so much, hyuck.”

he closes the distance, eyes closing as your lips meet, sealing your affections.

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

just something tiny while i find the time to work on the full fics, might incorporate this into another longer hc fic in the future but we will see!! it's nice to take a little break from the smut bc i dont have it in me to write it rn and honestly this is self indulgent since reader's thoughts about their future mirror my own LOL i need a hyuck in my life to comfort me

-coco (* ´ ｰ`)