#i'm getting through more than i have in my MANY attempts over the years (it had 75k posts when i started. now it's 60k. lol. lmao.)

[winters-dream]

cw: suggestive

Soft silk wrapped around Hero's body, the beautiful fabric sliding gracefully across their skin as they secured the tie around their waist. They had just finished a bath Villain drew for them and Hero hated to admit it, but this was the most relaxed they've felt in months. Maybe even years.

Hero didn't know how they got here. One minute, they were fighting Villain, negotiating to find a compromise to prevent Villain from wreaking havoc on the city. Hero knew better than to compromise with Villain; they were sneaky and sly and always knew exactly what to say to get Hero to bend to their will.

And that's exactly what happened. Somehow Hero went from doing everything in their power to save the city to relaxing in a robe in one of the many rooms of Villain's home. Guilt wracked through them as they pondered over what the Villain could possibly be doing to the city whilst they sat here and did nothing.

The door to their room opened and  Villain poked their head through. Their eyes raked over Hero's body and a satisfied grin spread over their lips. They stepped fully inside the room and the weight of their gaze made Hero shiver. Though Hero wanted to believe it was the cold that sent goosebumps along their arms.

“What am I doing here?” Hero was the first to break the silence. “What are you planning?”

Villain sauntered forward, each step causing Hero to take a step back. Their legs hit the baseboard of the bed, causing them to stumble as they ended up sitting on the bed. Villain stopped a few feet away.

“Oh, Hero, you know the deal,” they said. “Your surrender for the safety of the city. I'll cease to destroy this city as long as you remain by my side.”

They reached out, their fingers brushing along the hero's jaw. Hero would be lying if they said they didn't want to lean into the touch. 

“You belong to me now.”

Villain smiled their signature sinister smile, one that usually sent a healthy jolt of fear through Hero's body. But Hero saw something else behind that smile. Something . . . softer? Their eyes bore into Hero, challenging them to argue back.

A pink flush colored Hero's cheeks, Villain no doubt could feel the heat radiating off them.

“This is humiliating,” Hero admitted. And Villain shushed them with a finger over their lips.

“Dolls aren't meant to talk, dear,” they chastised with a wag of their finger. Hero wanted to bite that finger off. Their face flushed a deeper red. 

“I'm not a doll,” they spoke louder, feigning confidence they didn't have. “And this was not part of the deal. I agreed to surrender. Not to become your  . . . pet.” 

They cringed at their own choice of words.

“Oh, but you are,” Villain insisted. Both hands came up this time, cupping the hero's face. Their hold was gentle, yet firm, a silent reminder of who was in charge. Who had the power here. 

“You are my most prized possession,” they mused. “And I would be a fool to let you go so easily.”

They leaned in. Hero found themself staring at Villain’s lips. Their soft, pink lips, mere inches away from Hero’s; they had fantasized about kissing those lips and becoming familiar with their taste far more often than Hero cared to admit. They wanted to kiss them now, their head dizzy with anticipation.

Villain backed away with a smirk, and something in Hero snapped. Like a spell has been broken, Hero was suddenly pulled back into reality. They blinked at Villain who studied Hero with a knowing smile. They knew all too well the effect they had on the hero. Hero was playing right into their hand.

“You're not going to get away with this,” Hero said as a final attempt at defiance. Villain shook their head with a chuckle. Hero knew they were toast. 

“Oh, darling. I already have.”

[shirogane-oushirou]

me: i think i'm gonna try to log off for my mental health ^_^

me: and by that i mean spend multiple days straight cleaning out my very first tumblr blog so i can back it up bc tumblr utils keeps getting stuck halfway through <3 <- dying and perishing and passing away

[nastyaromatherapy]

Brother's best friend (18+)

You see Nate, who you're not so fond of, at your house hanging out with your brother.

do i have many Ethan requests currently? yes. but am i currently salivating, thirsting, and barking for nate? yes.

pairing - bbf!nate jacobs x fem!reader

one shot length, 1.4k+ word fic

warnings: PIV, nate's kind of the worst obvi, nate says the r-slur, nate's like graduated highschool by now, uhh idfk creampie ig

The stench wafting out of your brother's room was disgusting, the fumes infiltrated your nostrils when you walked through the hall to get your laundry. You tried to ignore him and his friends over their yelling which was damn near impossible, who knows what the fuck they did in there. All you knew is that it was stinky, sweaty, and weirdly horny.

You shuffled your way into the laundry room and started loading the machine. Somehow the smell of your dirty clothes was more tolerable than his room. Suddenly the noises from the musty dump got louder, signifying that the door had opened. You paid no mind, not wanting to see him or Daniel, or whoever else was lurking in that place.

You had just about finished loading the washer until you heard a voice. "Forgot something?" You turned around and looked up to see Nate with a pink thong dangling from his fingers. "Thanks," you said with annoyance. You yanked it from his fingers to throw it in the drum.

Nate was hot, a grade above you, but you still disliked him with rationality. In your junior year he catfished you, leading you to embarrass yourself in front of the person that you thought you were texting, and then you became a joke amongst his friend group.

He stood behind you as you threw in tide pods and started the machine. You turned around and he was still there. "That the same pair you wore in that one pic?" You rolled your eyes, "Which one?" He chuckled to himself. "The fact you have to ask 'which one' is laughable." You scoffed and stormed out of the room, brushing past him.

"When will you stop being mad at me?" He called out, making you turn around. "It's been a year, c'mon everyone's forgotten." He spoke. "Not you apparently! Maybe if you stopped being a total dick, we'd be neutral like how I am with the rest of my brother's friends." You huffed and walked to your room with him following behind. "Okay, okay y/n, I'm sorry." He said as he leaned against your doorframe.

"Whatever Nate, why do you want my forgiveness so bad anyways? Just go back and hang out with my brother." You said while straightening random trinkets on your dresser. "Because, y'know, I want to be neutral with you. Besides, I'd be lying if I said I haven't jacked off at least once to those photos-" "Oh my god Nate, ew! Just get your perverted ass out of my fucking room!" You yelled, attempting to push his tall frame out to no avail.

He looked down at you, finding the power difference endearing. "It's not my fault you're perfect," he purred, making you soil your your panties. You always loved when he complimented you. You swallowed as you looked up at him. "My brother's gonna wonder where you are so, you should y'know, before he comes looking for you." He shakes his head. "Your brother's retarded, he's not gonna wonder shit." He said as his hands reached to shut your door.

"Nate," you whispered before he leaned down to kiss you. You internally gasped as your hands found their way to his cheeks, and his traveled to grope your ass through the oversized tee you drowned in. The groans he let escape into your mouth was enough to make you completely drench your panties, your other hand reaching for his shirtless chest. The two of you traveled to your bed, not breaking the kiss, only casually coming up for air.

You were positioned at the bottom, head resting on your pillow with him above you. He slipped his tongue into your mouth just as he slipped his hand underneath your shirt, fingers making their way to your heavy clit. You whimpered and jolted at the connection, inching your legs wider for him. He rubbed circles around your bulging clit through the panties whilst his tongue journeyed through your mouth.

"Nate, please," you whimpered into his mouth. He pulled away leaving your mouth agape as he lifted your tee over your head. "Fuck," he whispered to himself. You sat up to kiss him as he grasped your tits, kneading them and squeezing on your nipples. You moaned into his mouth from the friction as you reached down to his crotch. He groaned when he felt your hand on his erection. You broke the kiss to unbutton his pants, pulling them down as you licked your lips. You eyed his length through his Calvin Kleins and massaged him through the fabric.

He moaned from your touch, biting his lip as he looked down at your hand. You reached your hand in to stretch the waistband and pull his cock out. His chest rose and fell as you leaned down to lick his shaft before swallowing him. He bit back a whimper as you took him deep into your mouth. Your soft plush lips wrapped around his shaft like a ring that slid up and down his girthy length. Your doe eyes met his dark ones as your cheeks hollowed, making you moan around his cock.

"Fuck, I always knew you were a slut from those photos," He said between grunts. Your eyebrows furrowed as you breathed heavily through your nose, stomach churning from how aroused you were. Vibrations were sent up his cock from your moans, making him twitch in your mouth. "Shit you're gonna make me cum," he whispered before painting your mouth white. You slid off of him, letting the cum canopy over the rest of his length, making a mess on your bed.

After catching his breath, he fisted your hair in his hands to pull you up to him to interlock lips. He grimaced at the taste of his bitter cum on your lips as his tongue grazed yours, his hands again toying with your perky nipples. "Why'd b/n have to have such a hot sister," he whispered, making your hole flutter. "Maybe so you'd have something fun to do in his godforsaken tomb." You smirked against his lips before he laid you down back onto your mattress.

He spread your legs, eyeing that darkened, damp patch on your panties. You closed your eyes, slightly embarrassed by your physical arousal. He pulled them down, a string of natural lubricant following behind. You stretched your legs in the air and opened them wider, letting him view your glistening pussy.

He tapped his tip atop your sticky folds, his cock already covered in cum. You whimpered at the contact, and he smiled a smug smirk at your reaction. "Yeah, you want it?" He whispered condescendingly. "Yes Nate, please! I need you so bad," you begged. He lined his cock up with your gaping entrance before plunging in. You moaned out as your pussy stretched to accommodate his length. You moaned out with every thrust of his hips, not doing your best at keeping quiet.

He chuckled at himself whenever you cried out when he went deep, his tip grazing your sensitive cervix. "Such a slut taking one of your brother's friend's cocks, yeah?" He groaned as he pistoned himself in and out of your pussy. Your hole was sloppy and wet, and a ring of his previous cum formed around his base. "Please don't stop Nate, it feels s'good," you slurred out.

He slapped your tits making you yelp and leaned down to suck on your lips. You moaned into his mouth as his cock fucked your pussy animalistically. "'Pussy's so fucking good," he groaned against your lips. "You gonna touch yourself whenever I'm on my way to hang out with your brother? Gonna pull me away so I can fill you up with my cum like the good slut you are?" He asked. "Mhm, yes Nate, I'm gonna need your cock everyday," you moaned, clenching around his length. "Good fucking girl," he groaned.

Your stomach twisted and you found yourself throbbing around his length, close to cumming. "Nate, I'm s'close," you whimpered out. "Fuck, cum for me baby," he grunted through his teeth, making you unravel all around his cock, your cum dripping like warm honey on his length. With one final thrust he came too, shooting his load into your tight cunt. He pulled out and watched the mix of cum spill out of you, leaving a puddle on the sheets, and your hole that was left gaping.

***

The two of you put your clothes back on and he walked out of your room. Your brother notices him from the hallway and finally wonders where he's been. "Nate, dude, where the hell were you?" He just smugly shrugged. "Bathroom, jacking off to your sister," he starts, looking back at you. "She's fucking hot." You scoffed, "Gross," before closing your door.

[itadorey]

𝐥𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐭 — geto suguru

pairing: cult leader!geto x fem!reader summary: your job as an investigative journalist leads you to infiltrate the time vessel association in search of a good article. but you get more than you bargained for when you catch the attention of geto suguru, the charismatic leader of of the organization that seems more like a cult. notes: cult leader!geto, fem reader, reader is an investigative journalist, reader is wearing a dress, inspired by a chem class i took + s4e3 of criminal minds, geto has a test of loyalty involving the drinking of allegedly poisoned wine but it's fake (nothing about it is real and he participates), he is manipulative but not about the sex. the sex is consensual! he is not the nicest man in this, vaginal fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, marking, teasing/mocking, he's kinda mean + rough, lmk if i forgot anything! wc: ~7.4k

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 + 𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

there are many words that are used to describe the leader of the time vessel association: intelligent, cunning, beguiling.

geto suguru was not someone to be taken lightly, especially after having managed to take over the association and quadruple it in size over the course of a couple of years. when you had taken on the assignment, you had known virtually nothing about them or the man in charge.

now, after nearly six months of investigative work, you knew of another word that could be used to describe the enigmatic geto suguru.

handsome.

joining the time vessel association was easy. their purpose was unclear to the rest of the country, and after giving a fake sob story and signing a few forms, you had been welcomed in with open arms. your life within the association was admittedly cozy, and you had uncovered nothing suspicious or interesting for your first few weeks within joining the organization. until you met geto suguru.

a charming smile was the first thing that filled your vision when you stumbled into someone, followed by a pair of warm eyes and handsome features framed by silky, black hair. you had immediately stiffened, back straightening as you let a soft smile appear on your face as you apologized.

"i'm sorry, i should watch where i'm going," you had said with a laugh, bowing your head slightly before stepping to the side.

"you should be more respectful," the light-haired woman beside the man had sang, looking you up and down before scoffing lightly.

"now, now, suda," the man had said. "there's no need to be so harsh with our new recruits."

upon noticing the confused look on your face, the man had laughed lightly, tilting his head towards you before speaking. "my name is geto suguru. it is an honor to make your acquaintance."

you had uttered your fake name after his own words, earning a knowing smile from geto before you hastily excused yourself. he had waved you off with a flick of his wrist, dark eyes watching as you walked away before he turned to ask suda for more information on you. the woman had hesitated slightly before looking through her tablet, rattling off your information as geto listened.

the two of them had stood silently in the hallway for a few minutes, a scowl appearing on suda's face when geto finally spoke.

"invite her to my office for tea. i would like to speak with her some more."

the first time you had tea with geto, you had been a nervous wreck.

the sudden invitation had left you wondering if he knew who you truly were, and your hands had trembled slightly whenever you had moved to bring your teacup to your mouth. his sharp gaze had only added to your nerves, and you did your best to avoid his eyes in an attempt to keep your composure. you kept reminding yourself that you had chosen the career of an investigative journalist for a reason, and you had taken multiple precautions to ensure that your real identity remained hidden.

once you got used to geto's presence, you realized how useful your meetings with him were. he was interested in anything and everything you had to say, and a slight part of you felt guilty knowing that everything you told him was a lie. in return, he was more open with you than you expected him to be, and you did your best to ask questions about the association without drawing any unwanted attention to you.

in a matter of weeks, you had learned a lot about the time vessel association. you had learned about the internal fighting that had existed before geto assumed power, and how he had been quick to quell all conflicts and earn everyone's respect. you had also learned that there were only a select few members that geto seems to trust, but you hadn't figured out why just yet. the biggest piece of information you had learned however, was that geto was unnaturally charming.

a simple compliment from him always had your face heating up, and you took great pleasure in the way his eyes seemed to follow your legs whenever you crossed one over the other. you enjoyed the way he took your tea recommendations seriously, and the way his gaze seemed to linger on your lips as you regaled him with another story about your life before joining the association.

but no matter how attractive geto suguru was, you had to constantly remind yourself that it was in his nature to be so charismatic. after all, he was the leader of what was quickly becoming the largest cult in japan.

you made sure to take meticulous notes about your interactions with geto every time they happened, whether it be the private moments in his office, or the casual conversations in public. the green folder was filled with months of information, and you took extra care to hide it under a loose floorboard under your bed to ensure that no one could find it.

a part of you was suspicious about how friendly geto was towards you, and you found yourself wondering if a man such as him could actually be so easily swayed by personal feelings. that is, if that's what he felt towards you at all.

you tried to convince yourself that he truly did like you; that you had managed to catch his attention the very first day you met him due to your clumsiness. but you couldn't shake the feeling that he was onto you, and so you quickly made arrangements with your editor to finally finish your infiltration, the both of you agreeing that six months worth of information was more than enough to write an exposé on the time vessel association.

but your luck could only stretch so far, leading to this very moment where you find yourself face to face with suda manami, a pleasant smile on her face as she stood outside your door.

"can i help you with something?" you ask, your eyebrows furrowing as you study her vacant expression. "does geto need something from me?"

"i can assure you that geto does not need anything from you," suda hisses, her eyes crinkling as her smile widens. "but he is calling an immediate meeting of all the present members of the association. i suggest you make your way to the conference room immediately."

you give her a hesitant nod, slipping out of your room before following behind her. she's silent the entire way, only pausing a few doors away from the conference room and motioning for you to keep going with a wave of her hand.

the air inside the conference hall is stifling, the majority of the seats being filled as people wait for something unknown.

you slide into an empty seat near the front, making sure to sit on the end of the row as you look around. your hands flutter about, smoothing your dress down over your thighs as you look for geto, trying to ignore the tense atmosphere that's engulfed the room.

hushed conversations take place all around you, and you strain your ears as you attempt to eavesdrop and figure out if anyone knows why a gathering had suddenly been called. there is no sign of the long, black hair you're currently trying to find, and you slump in your seat when you realize that he hasn't even arrived yet.

silence falls over the hall the moment a figure walks onstage, black robes fluttering about his legs as he makes his way towards the center. you breathe in sharply when your eyes land on him, and you watch as he takes a cursory glance around the hall. his gaze stops briefly on you, and your heart stutters when his lips turn up the slightest bit upon seeing you.

"thank you for convening on such short notice," geto says, his voice low and smooth as he gives his audience a pleasant, close-eyed smile. "it is my pleasure to announce that we have reached our most recent recruitment goal."

geto pauses as cheers fill the room, and he nods good-naturedly as he waits for the noise to die down. he signals to the people standing on the sidelines, and you flinch lightly when one approaches you, gently pressing a black, plastic wine glass into your hand before moving down the row.

"as a result," geto continues, the smile still present on his face. "we shall celebrate tonight. we will start with our finest wine, and continue with a traditional feast afterwards."

you shift uncomfortably in your seat, looking down at the deep red wine currently being held in your hand. your eyebrows knit together, trying to recall if geto had mentioned anything about recruitment goals in your previous interactions. your shoulders tense when you take a glance around the room, seeing all other organization members take a swig from their cups without hesitation.

a cold chill runs down your spine when you turn your gaze back to the front, immediately meeting geto's dark stare. his eyes are focused solely on you, and he refuses to look away as he waits for you to make a move. you can feel your hand trembling as you clutch your cup, and you force what you hope is a coy grin onto your face as you lift your glass towards geto.

he grins back at you, his expression sharp and dangerous as he nods his head in encouragement. you press your lips to the rim of the cup, forcing yourself to remain calm and keep your lips clamped shut as you feel the liquid slosh against your mouth.

a satisfied nod is all you receive from geto before he looks away, and you waste no time before placing your cup on the ground, making sure that you tuck it behind one of the wooden legs of your chair. your hands are still shaking when geto speaks once more, a shining metal goblet now in his hand.

"it brings my heart such joy to see us all come together in celebration," geto proclaims, pausing to raise his glass. the lively atmosphere in the hall dissipates when his smile falls, and you can't fight the uneasiness creeping up your spine. "but i am afraid i also have some unfortunate news. it has come to my attention that we have a traitor amongst our ranks, someone who is not committed to the cause we stand for."

murmurs instantly fill the hall, and you can feel the ice creeping through your veins as you straighten up in your seat. you catch sight of suda glancing your way, and you do your best to keep your expression neutral, your stomach twisting with anxiety as wait with bated breath for geto's next words. confused expressions surround you, and you do your best to imitate them in an attempt to calm yourself down.

"this is why, the wine you've drank tonight has been poisoned."

you feel your heart leap into your throat at geto's words, and you silently watch as geto raises his cup to his lips before taking a deep drink. his lips are stained red when he hands his cup to suda, and you find yourself unable to look away even as panicked murmurs start arising all around you.

"i have the antidote, of course," geto says, a smile on his face as he scans the crowd. "it's ready to be handed out, once the traitor steps forward. you have five minutes until we all die."

there's a whole minute of silence as everyone tries to process geto's words, and you find yourself looking down as you stare towards your full cup of wine. your whole body trembles as you shut your eyes, and you find yourself wondering if geto had been telling the truth.

you start tapping your foot on the ground as people around you start debating in hushed whispers, trying to determine who could possibly be the traitor.

"one minute left!" geto announces, a calm look on his face as he eyes the clock on the wall. a part of you wants to jump out of your seat and admit to all your lies, but your fear of retaliation keeps you frozen in your seat. you know it's the right thing to do— you can't possibly let all these people die— but your resolve is broken down when you notice a man step forward.

"we have come to an agreement!"

geto's eyebrow raises as he eyes the man— shinji, you recall, one of the association's most loyal followers— and he tilts his head as he descends the stage, coming to a stop in front of him. he's a mere ten feet from you, and you can't look away from him as he hums questioningly.

"and what would that agreement be?"

"there is no one among us who would even think of betraying you," shinji proclaims, being met with sounds of agreement from the entirety of the room. you watch in horror as people nod enthusiastically, wiping away fearful tears from their eyes as they settle back into their seats. "we are wholly devoted to you and your mission, and if that means that we die for you, then so be it."

"you would all die for me?" geto asks, a leer on his face as the man nods. loud laughter tumbles out from his lips, and it only grows louder as he steps backwards, hoisting himself up to sit on the stage. "how precious."

geto's loud laughter rings throughout the room, and you watch as people look at him reverently. he rises to his feet, snatching his cup back from suda and downing the contents before tossing it to the side. the dull clang of the metal rings in your ears, and he sighs deeply as he gives the crowd a small bow.

"there will be no antidote handed out," he states, holding his hand up when mutters break out in the crowd. you can't draw your gaze away from him, your eyes tracing the drop of wine that trails down his lip before his tongue darts out to catch it. "there was never any poison. that was merely a test of loyalty and all of you, my dear congregants, have passed. it really does warm my heart to know that you all have such faith in me, and i hope that i live up to all of your expectations. there will be a celebration tonight, so please, enjoy the rest of the wine and i hope to see all of you in the dining hall later. now if you'll excuse me, i have some preparations to finish. i wish you all a wonderful day."

the words have barely left geto's lips before you're darting out of your seat, doing your best to avoid his line of sight as he's held up by some of the congregants. you feel yourself grow sick as you see the smiles on their faces, and you can't help the way your stomach lurches when they prostrate themselves at his feet.

you burst through the doors and into the hallway, trying to sort through all the emotions you're feeling. your thoughts feel jumbled, and you can only focus on getting to your room as you lurch to the side of the corridor to avoid crashing into people. you feel a relieved sigh slip past your lips as your room comes into view, only for it to turn into a gasp when you feel someone grab your hand.

your knees wobble as you turn your head, catching a glimpse of geto's usual hairstyle as he stands behind you. his hand is still wrapped around yours, and you wonder if he can feel the way your fingers tremble against his as he pulls you to him.

"i apologize for startling you," geto says, his voice rich and deep ad you nod your head in greeting. "i was wondering if you would join me for some tea before the feast."

"o-of course!" you say, mustering up the courage to meet his gaze. there's a glint in his eye as he grins, and he proceeds to weave your arm through his, your hand resting on the crook of his elbow as he leads you even further down the hall. you do your best to ignore the awed looks the two of you receive from the association members as you pass them, looking down at your shoes to try and distract yourself.

a soft 'thank you' leaves your lips when geto holds his office door open for you, and you wipe your palms against the skirt of your dress as you take your usual seat in front of his desk. he walks over to the window, a large assortment of porcelain and teas sitting on the shelves underneath it.

"any requests?" he asks, earning a quiet shake of your head. he sighs softly, crouching down to pluck a container of tea leaves off the top shelf before straightening up. he shoots a glance your way, watching as you shift in your seat. "may i ask a favor of you?"

"how can i be of assistance?" you say softly, looking at geto curiously. he chuckles at your expression, waving his hand towards his desk before turning to grab a teapot.

"can you grab the folder underneath the pile of papers? remember our last conversation? i have something that i think might interest you."

you respond with a hum, standing from your seat to reach the pile of papers he had mentioned. the edge of the wooden desk digs into your flesh as you stretch, your fingers brushing against the paper before you take the pile into your hand.

"i hope i didn't scare you with my little stunt earlier," geto continues, the soft clink of porcelain filling the room as he moves things around. you remain silent at his words, unable to find the proper words to respond with. you freeze when you finally find the folder on the desk, your finger closing around the familiar green plastic as you pull it towards you. you barely register geto's voice, too focused on the item that you were sure you had hidden in your room. "although i don't think it would be bold of me to say that you weren't scared at all, considering the fact that you didn't drink your wine in the first place."

your breath catches in your throat as you clutch the folder to your chest, and you feel geto come up behind you before reaching around you to set two empty cups down on the desk.

"what do you mean?" you ask, feigning innocence. "you watched me drink."

geto hums at your words, reaching over to pluck the folder from your hands. you whirl around in surprise, swallowing harshly when you realize that he was a lot closer than you originally thought.

"i did," geto agrees, opening the folder and skimming through the pages inside. "so imagine my surprise when i found a full cup of wine hidden underneath the seat you had been sitting at."

geto meets your eyes when you remain silent, giving you a teasing grin. he pulls out a sheet of paper, and your eyes widen when you recognize it at the one that was full of hastily scribbled first impressions.

"i know who you are."

his simple statement is enough to make your heart race, and you flinch when he laughs softly at your expression. he hums as he skims over the paper, eyes full of delight as they trace over the black ink.

"i must say, i admire your dedication to your job," geto continues, his eyes still on the paper. "when you first arrived, i didn't think you'd last one month, much less six."

"you've known," you finally whisper, drawing geto's attention back to you. he watches as your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, your lips parting as you stare at him in disbelief. "you've known about me this entire time."

"i have," is all geto says, returning the paper in his hand to the folder. he looks through the pages once more, plucking another one out of the stack before reading through it as well.

"why'd you let it carry on for so long?" you ask quietly. he doesn't respond for a while, closing the folder and tossing it onto your empty chair before looking up and studying your face.

"i suppose you could say i grew fond of you," he finally responds, a crooked smile on his face. you look away from him, flustered by his words.

"so you kept me around for your entertainment?" you scoff, earning a hum from geto. you cross your arms defensively, swallowing before asking the most important question on your mind. "so now what? what do you plan on doing now that you've blown my cover?"

"you're free to go and write your little exposé. i don't care about that at all," geto says casually, taking a step towards you. his robes brush against your knees, and you shrink back against his desk when one of his hands come up to cup your cheek, turning your face back towards him. your lips part slightly as his other hand grabs your waist, guiding you to take a seat on his desk. strands of dark hair fall over geto's shoulder as he leans down slightly, and you find yourself eye level with him as his fingers start tracing feathery patterns on your hip. "but as i said, i've grown fond of you,"

"oh?" you breathe, trying to concentrate on his words. his hand slides down lower, thumb stroking the junction of your thigh and causing your breath to hitch.

"i think it's safe to assume you've grown fond of me as well," geto says lightly, earning an indignant look from you. he leans in, nose skimming the side of your neck as you instinctively turn away. his other hand leaves your face to grasp as your other thigh, dragging you closer to the edge of the desk as he situates himself between your legs.

"you're wrong," you retort, huffing lightly as you squeeze your eyes shut. your head feels hazy, thoughts jumbled as geto leans over you, his large frame almost completely engulfing you as he chuckles against your skin.

"am i?" he hums, lips brushing your neck lightly as he speaks.

"ye— ahhh!"

you moan softly when geto nips at your neck, and he laughs mockingly as you arch into him. you fist your dress in your hands as he trails kisses up your neck, his breath hot against you as he leaves faint, red marks upon your skin.

"i don't think i am," he whispers into your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. he presses a fluttery kiss to your cheek, his nose bumping into yours as he pauses. you open your eyes to see him watching you, dark eyes half-lidded as he takes in your flustered appearance.

you let your gaze drop to his lips, and you hesitate for a moment as silence engulfs the room. you feel vulnerable, almost exposed, as you sit in front of one of the most dangerous men in japan. there's a chill that's settled into your veins over the past few minutes, and you can't find it in you to fully believe that it's a result of fear.

geto suguru is a name that's been praised and cursed, and you've seen firsthand how ruthless and terrifying the man can be. yet you find yourself leaning in, your heart racing— from excitement or fear, you still don't know— as you unfurl your hands, letting them get lost in geto's robes as you blindly pull him in.

your lips meet in a clash of teeth and tongue, and geto wastes no time before angling your head up, deepening the kiss as he slips his tongue past your lips. you moan into his mouth, leaning up further as your arms wrap around his neck, your chest pressed firmly against his. thoughts are still swirling around your head as geto sucks on your tongue lightly, only making your head spin even more as you try to figure out exactly what it is the two of you are doing.

he's dangerous, you repeat to yourself, thinking about all the information you've managed to gather on the association. you think back to the wine incident, the terrified faces of the congregants flashing through your head as you pull away. geto chases after you, biting your lip, and all thoughts vanish. there's no moment of reprieve before you're kissing him deeply once again, remembering that it was you who pulled him into the kiss in the first place.

you part from him with a gasp, your face heating up when you see the thin string of saliva connecting you to him. geto breathes heavily, watching as you unwrap your arms from his neck to wipe your lips before he grabs your jaw with one of his hands. his lips are red and swollen, and you can't help the way your chest puffs with pride at the sight.

"would you die for me?" geto utters mockingly, enjoying the way a scowl spreads across your lips at the question. you try to pull away from him, stopping when his fingers tighten around your face ever so slightly.

"no," you snap, mild defiance in your lust-blown pupils as you stare him down. he thinks you look beautiful like this, titillated yet strong-willed. he wonders if he can change that.

geto huffs out a laugh at your response before leaning down, giving you a bruising kiss before releasing your jaw. you're still staring at him, shaky breaths leaving your lips as he looks up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

"have you heard of 'la petite mort'?" he asks quietly. he looks back down at you when he's met with silence, and he watches as your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"it means the little death, right?" you respond, caught off guard by the sudden question. geto nods at your words, a low hum leaving him as he fixes you with a hungry look.

"that's the direct translation," he confirms, fingers dancing across your thigh. "however, the french used that phrase to refer to a certain... occurrence."

you hum questioningly, your attention caught by the movement of his fingers as you attempt to listen to him. geto smiles when he notices your struggle, and he lets his hand slip under your dress, his skin feeling hot as it lands upon your bare thigh.

"a more accurate definition would be 'the sensation of post orgasm as likened to death'," he continues, enjoying the way your breath hitches in his throat at your words. he lets himself lean down, lips barely brushing yours as he watches your reaction. he thinks the way your eyes flutter shut is cute, and he feels his dick twitch at the sight of you so ready and eager. "you said you wouldn't die for me, but tell me, would you be willing to die a thousand little deaths with me?"

a shiver runs down your spine when you feel his fingers trail along the your inner thigh, and you hesitate slightly before opening your eyes. you see the smile on geto's face, and you hate the fact that you can't really bring yourself to turn him away.

"i promise it would be worth it," geto mumurs, voice low with desire.

you clench your hands as you he waits for your answer, your stomach twisting as he lets out a low laugh as your inner conflict. a shaky exhale leaves your lips as you place your hands against his chest, smoothing the fabric you had previously wrinkled. there's a nagging voice in the back of your head, telling you that it's wrong to be here, in this situation, with a man like geto suguru.

but your resolve weakens when you take in the sight of him, hair disheveled as he stands in between your thighs and stares at you as though you're the only thing in the world that could bring him to his knees. you tell yourself that you'll hate yourself for getting involved with such a twisted man, but you ignore your thoughts as his fingers brush against your panties, telling yourself that you'll deal with your regret later.

"this doesn't mean anything," you whisper, looking to the side. you gasp when you feel geto's lips back on your neck, teeth lightly scraping against your skin as he wraps his hands around your thighs, spreading your legs apart as your dress rides up.

"of course it doesn't," he says teasingly, fingers tracing your slit through your underwear. you squirm in place, your hands now firmly on geto's shoulders as he rubs your clit through the thin fabric. "whatever makes you feel better."

you're so focused on geto's fingers that you barely register his lips trailing down your neck. he leaves wet, sloppy kisses in his wake, only pausing briefly to tug at the neckline of your dress. a faint moan leaves your lips when the cool air hits your breasts, and it only grows in volume when he wastes no time in leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth, tongue circling the sensitive nub as you arch into him.

"you, ah, you're kind of eager, aren't you?" you ask quietly, gasping when he bites teasingly at the soft skin of your breast. "oh fuck!"

your hands tighten on geto's shoulders as he pushes your underwear to the side, fingers circling your clit and causing you to squeal at the sudden sensation. you feel like your nerves are on fire, pleasure ten times stronger now that there's nothing in between your cunt and his fingers.

"i'd say you're the eager one," geto huffs raising his head to look at you.

he scowls when you remain quiet, your forehead coming down to rest in the crook of his neck as he keeps a steady rhythm. your breathing gets heavier as he hooks one of your legs around his waist for better access but you remain quiet, causing a wave of frustration to wash over geto.

"say my name," he commands, feeling you shake your head against him. he presses harder against your clit, a strangled whine falling from your lips at the action. "say it!"

"n-no!" you whimper, gasping when geto slips a finger inside your cunt. geto smirks as he retracts his hand, watching the way you try to buck your hips in an attempt to keep his touch on you.

"no?" geto asks, faux concern in his voice.

"please," you whisper, pressing your lips to his neck. geto's other hand presses down on your thigh, keeping you in place as you try to inch your hips closer to him. your dress rides up even more with the action, and geto smiles when he notices the fabric rise, baring your glistening cunt.

he groans when you suck on the sensitive spot underneath his jaw, hand unintentionally tightening around your leg and causing you to gasp.

"please," you repeat, your voice needy as tug his face down to yours. your eyes are wide and pleading, a hint of glossiness visible as you pout.

"please what?" geto asks, enjoying the way you hesitate briefly. your lips part as you go to respond, only for you to pause when you see the proud glint in his eyes. you tense slightly, swallowing your own pride before pulling him into a deep kiss.

"please, i need—" you begin, pulling away from him and looking down. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly before speaking, embarrassment prickling at your spine as you give in to him. "i need you, su—"

geto smiles when you pause, letting go of your thigh to tilt your head up to look at him. "say it with me. su-gu-ru. it's not that hard."

your face flashes with anger at his mocking tone, feeling slightly irritated at his words. geto's eyes light up with delight at your expression, and you can't help but feel a twist in your stomach as you realize just how in control of the situation he is. you take a deep breath before squaring your shoulders, feeling entirely too exposed as geto watches you intently.

"please suguru," you say breathlessly, reaching for his other hand and guiding it back in between your legs. "i need you to make me feel good."

"well when you ask so sweetly, who am i to refuse?" he replies, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest as you scowl. your contempt is short-lived as he complies, and you moan when he begins to finger you slowly.

he pulls his face out of your hands to watch as your cunt sucks his finger in, eyes darkened with lust as you squirm in response. your hands fall back to his shoulders, fingers digging into his robes as your legs spread even wider for him.

"m-more, please, suguru!" you cry out, drawing his gaze back to your face. your eyes are squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted as moans pour out of you. he complies without complaint, another finger joining the first as he speeds up his pace. his office is filled with lewd, squelching sounds, mixing in with your pretty moans and whimpers as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you.

"like that?" he asks innocently, laughing lowly when you nod desperately. you try to buck your hips in tandem with his thrusts, and he can't help but coo at the adorably pathetic sight. he angles his fingers to hit that soft, spongey spot inside of you, earning a sharp whine as your legs instinctively try to close.

"su-suguru!" you moan, hearing a pleased hum in return. his hand is clamped in between your thighs, the skirt of your dress covering the scene in between.

"c'mon," he coaxes gently, his free hand rubbing soothing circles on your thigh as he tries to pry them apart. you comply slowly, knees trembling as he starts to move his fingers slowly. once he has your legs parted, he lifts your dress up gingerly, breathing in sharply when he sees your arousal coating your thighs. "so sensitive. or maybe you really are just that fond of me."

his words go unheard as you push his hands away, and geto frowns lightly before you start tugging at his robes, trying to shove the fabric off his shoulders as you pull him closer.

"what are you doing?" geto asks amusedly, smirking when you look up at him with a determined look. he keeps eyes contact with you as he licks his fingers clean, humming contentedly when you break his stare with a flustered look. you manage to untie his robes, only stopping when geto's hand closes around both of yours. "answer me."

"i need you," you state confidently, an embarrassed expression on your face as he releases you. he's pleasantly surprised by your determination, and he takes a moment to think before deciding to tease you.

"oh?" geto asks, a teasing lilt present in his words. "were my fingers not enough? was i not making you feel good?"

you pause at his words, giving him a mildly annoyed look before focusing on the the ties keeping his pants up.

"of course they were, suguru," you purr, saying his name wantonly. "i just need more."

"go on then," geto says, watching hungrily as your fingers deftly work at the knot. your eyes light up when you finally manage to untie it, wasting no time before haphazardly shoving geto's pants and underwear halfway down his thighs.

a sharp hiss escapes geto's lips when your hand wraps around his dick, and he watches in amusement as your lips part in surprise as you look at it. your tongue darts out to lick your lips as you give him an experimental stroke, and you look up at him through your lashes as he bucks into your hand.

"so pretty," you murmur, letting your thumb swipe over the head of his dick in order to spread the pre-cum that had gathered at the tip. you don't notice the way geto's breathing gets heavier, or the way he leans down to press his palms to the edge of his desk in an attempt to control himself. he watches with rapt attention when you let him go, bringing your hand up to your mouth to lap at the pre-cum that covered your fingers. "s-so big."

your eyes widen when he takes him self in his hand, using the other to lift one of your knees so that your foot is on the desk.

"w-wait!" you cry out, hands scrambling to find purchase on the wood under you. geto pauses, his head tilting to the side as he waits for you to continue. you look conflicted, your eyes still focused on his dick as he slides it up and down your folds, a weak moan leaving your lips when it brushes against your clit. "it's too big... it's not going to fit."

"it's too big!" geto mocks, your jaw dropping in surprise at his words. the hand on your knee slides down your thigh, and his thumb parts your folds, a sly smile appearing on his face when he sees your cunt clenching around nothing. "you were so bold a few minutes ago, and now you're saying it's too big? you asked for this, and now you're going to take it."

you whine as he rubs his dick up and down your slit a few more times before pushing in, your cunt squelching loudly as the tip pops in. your back arches as he keeps sliding in, his thumb reaching up to rub soothing circles around your clit in a futile attempt to help.

"suguru! 's too big!" you repeat, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. you pull him close, and he grabs your hips with both hands, pulling you to him as his cock bullies its way into your cunt. a loud gasp leaves your lips when he finally bottoms out, and he moans when he feels the way your cunt spasms around him, your legs trembling as they try to close only to be stopped by geto's frame. "i- i'm cumming!"

geto laughs at the sight in front of him, and he wastes no times before thrusting into you, setting a ruthless pace as you squeal loudly.

"suguru! it's too much! 'm too full," you moan, clinging onto him tightly as he keeps fucking you. his eyes focus on your tits, enjoying the way they bounce each time he thrusts up into you. he leans down to gently capture one of your nipples between his teeth, earning another surprised squeal from you as he tugs on it lightly. he pulls away to see tears of pleasure welling up in your eyes, and he can't stop himself from leaning down to press a soft kiss to your cheek.

"it's too much?" he asks, his pace relentless as you bury your face into his chest. you nod against him and he can't help but laugh, only pressing down on your clit harshly and causing you to writhe against him. "maybe i should stop then."

"no! no, please, suguru," you cry out desperately, looking up at him with glossy eyes as he slows down. "it's not too much, i can take it, please."

"are you sure?" he hums, earning a desperate nod from you. he starts thrusting into you again, his thick dick dragging against your walls as he leans down to continue marking your chest. your hands tangle in his hair, finger tugging weakly at the smooth strands as he pulls you in closer, his own fingers tugging at your nipples as he moves up to pull at your earlobe with his teeth.

"would you die for me?" he breathes into your ear, hips slamming against yours as he thrusts into you. your hands pull harder at his hair, muffled whines escaping your lips as you try your best to hide your face into his chest. he lets out a frustrated huff at your lack of response, one hand coming up to grab roughly at your jaw before turning your head to face him. "would you?"

"n-no!" you cry out, wrenching your face out of his hold when he presses a sloppy kiss to your lips. geto chuckles at the action, and he spreads your legs apart further, hands hooked underneath your knees as he drives his dick deeper into you. the new angle has the tip of his dick pressing against your g-spot, and he smiles as he notices the tears finally spilling down your cheeks as one of your hands leaves his shoulder to snake its way down towards your clit. he intercepts it, lacing his fingers with yours and smiling when you let out a frustrated cry.

"look at you, so cute," geto murmurs, squeezing your hand lightly. his soft words make your head spin, a stark contract to the punishing pace he was currently rutting into you at. you whine and turn away when he kisses your tears away, only for you to turn back to face him when he lets go of your hand to prod at your clit. "are you gonna cum for me?"

"yes!" you cry out, back arching as he rubs harsh circles around your clit. geto watches in fascination as you squirm underneath him, and his hips stutter when he feels your cunt clamp down on his dick. "i'm gonna cum! please! please let me cum, suguru!"

geto grunts at your words, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck. "fuck, you feel so good. this sloppy pussy was just meant to be fucked by me, wasn't it?"

"mmhmm, yes!" you warble in affirmation, tossing your head back. "it was! all for you!"

one last thrust is all it takes for you to reach your orgasm, and you let out a half-sob, half-squeal as geto fucks you through your climax. every nerve feels like it's on fire, and you think you hear yourself let out a scream when geto sucks harshly on the side of your neck, leaving a dark, mottled mark.

"doing so good f'me," geto grunts, still thumbing at your clit as he tries to fuck you through your orgasm. it's a herculean task, he thinks, your cunt clamped down so tightly around him that moving feels almost impossible. "so good, so fucking go—"

he cuts himself off as he empties himself into you with a low moan, and you whimper as you feel hot ropes of his cum filling you up. your post-orgasmic haze is quiet, filled with nothing but the heavy breaths coming from both you and geto. you feel weightless, and you're only brought back to reality when you hear a hesitant knock against geto's door, followed by suda's quiet voice.

"geto?" you hear her call from outside. "sorry to um, interrupt. but the feast is starting soon. everyone is waiting for you in the dining hall. excuse me."

you feel slight mortification at the realization that suda had heard what was happening, but a part of you couldn't help but feel satisfaction at the fact that it had been you on geto's desk and not her.

a soft chuckle leaves geto's lips as he starts to pull out of you, and he kisses you quickly when you whine at the feeling, your cunt still sensitive from all the stimulation. he pulls back to watch his cum dribble out of you, and he quickly moves your underwear back in place before any of it can fall on to his desk. you breathe in shakily as you fix the neckline of your dress, glancing down to catch a glimpse of the marks geto had left spread against your skin as he fixes his pants.

"i should go. that exposé won't write itself," you say hesitantly, breaking the silence in the office. you push yourself off the desk, your knees wobbling and causing you to collapse against geto as you struggle to maintain your balance. his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he chuckles at the sight. you look up at him, eyes wide when he nudges your cheek with his nose, capturing your lips in a searing kiss before speaking.

"so soon? but you see, you promised me a thousand deaths, and i have only collected one."

ty for reading !!

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: perv!wonwoo (not super pervy but i tried my best 🫡), smut, f reader, penetrative sex, established relationship (situatuonship is mentioned but idk lets assume they're exclusive just bc i can), he's kinda a dick, etc.

wc: 905

masterlist

streamer!wonwoo perv!wonwoo whose audience believes him to be a golden boy. simply a polite yet charming guy whos into video games, who just so happens to be insanely handsome. his thick rimmed glasses and wavy hair almost covering his eyes, accompanied by those wide shoulders, was able to catch the attention of all of those looking for a pretty face to look at while consuming content from their favorite video games (although many keep their eyes glued to the tiny view of wonwoo on the corner of the screen rather than the game itself).

the people watching him through the screen dont even see the half of it, though, not knowing how much of a perv he is when in real life. not so much a respectful and charming guy, but a degenerate who keeps up the act for appearances. after all, that is how he first got to you a few years back, when you, one of the few who had been a loyal viewer since before his channel blew up, decided that you just HAD to have the pretty nerd rambling about league of legends on stream.

after a few (okay, maybe more than a few) attempts at catching his attention through leaving various suggestive comments, wonwoo finally decided to take a look at your account, noting an instagram linked on your bio. after seeing that the desperate commentator he had taken a liking to seeing always punctual in his streams was a pretty girl in his area, his mind went straight to the gutter, finding his hands moving on their own to send you a message detailing his interest.

a few months later and you found yourself in a months-long situationship with the streamer, having him hit you up almost every other day when he needed 'something warm warm to stick his dick in', as he so nicely put it as he had you sitting on top of him, cockwarming him while he gamed (off-stream, of course).

having a such a well paying stay at home job had many perks, including the ability to take any day off he wanted to fuck you into his bed, somehow managing to never scare you away with his very obvious obsession with your body, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you with little to no regard for the exhaustion you'd feel after a few hours with him. somehow the roles had reversed, with him now being the one to continuously pursue you under the vice of getting under your pants every second he could.

"n-nonu fuck. slow down, i-" you whined as he senselessly bounced you up and down on his dick, rhythm completely lost a few rounds ago.

he practically growled at your complaint, "you asked for this when you showed up wearing that tiny excuse for a skirt while i was on stream."

"you asked me over-"

"for moral support, baby. not for you to parade yourself around me knowing i wouldnt be able to hold back from taking this pussy," he breathed out, angling you slightly differently, now causing you to whine even louder at your clit being stimulated by the friction.

"does your audience know how m- agh fuck. how much of a perv you are? leaving mid stream to get your dick wet?"

your brattiness causes him to disconnect your bodies, flipping yours over to put you on your hands and elbows and ramming himself into you with no warning.

"be thankful i'm fucking you of all people baby. be thankful this pussy has such a grip on me to get you on my bed every night," he sped up as he spoke filth into your ears.

wonwoo had a special way of making you feel like an object, something which you only enjoyed when it came to him. despite being such a fucking perv, you enjoyed the dynamic you had built, allowing him to play with your body however he saw fit as long as he made you cum. and jesus christ, did he.

"fuck," you felt the end coming near and began to push yourself back against him, grinding into him as much as you could despite his clammy hands having such a tight hold on your hips.

"im gonna make you cream all around me and then im gonna fill you up. okay, baby? then im gonna go back on stream while you keep my bed w- ah fuck. warm for me. if you're a good girl for me, i'll fuck you to sleep afterwards," he rasped out, losing his rhythm even further as he neared his own high.

a few more harsh thrusts later and you were creaming around him, tightening up so much that he, too, reached his peak, filling you up and letting go of your hips, causing you to fall flat against the mattress.

"fuck. baby, never show up like that here again. i almost died," he breathed out as he tried to do a decent job at cleaning you up a bit and tucking you under the covers.

despite his perverted treatment of your body, wonwoo was always sweet to you when his mind wasnt filled with sex (which admittedly wasnt often).

"you act as if i forced you to fuck me," you retaliate despite knowing you did wear that skirt with a specific purpose in mind.

"just shut up and go to sleep, baby. you'll need your energy back soon."

n/a: this is ass im rlly bad at writing men who r not obsessed with their s/o im sorry </33

[wonderlandwalker]

After All These Years | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: You think he no longer cares, and he thinks you're better off without him. But the reaping for the 75th hunger games puts a dent in both of those thoughts

Content Warnings/Tags: Angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, insinuations of smut, kissing, once again not proofread

Requested by @rottingpeache: absolutely need to see enemies to lovers with finnick. “I really don’t like you.” “And I really don’t believe you.”

Word Count: 1k

A/N: No clue if this is actually enemies to lovers or just a poor attempt at it. I'm gonna go take a nap now but there is more coming cause the requests sparked something in me again so thank you to everyone who sent them!!

None of you had expected it to happen, how could you? But you've learned by now there is no point in fighting it either. So when you heard Mags’ name being called out and you volunteered in her stead, you suppose it was simply out of habit. In a world like this, the only thing that makes you feel like you are surviving is helping others do the same thing. As you stepped forward you could see the cameras zooming in on your face, trying to capture every expression you were making. You saw the cameras do the same for Finnick. Years of being in an unwelcome spotlight had made his poker face almost unbreakable, but the small furrow of his eyebrows and the twitch in his gallant smile told you everything you needed to know.

It wasn't until the next day that he first spoke to you. Over the years you would see each other, of course, you would talk. But at all the events and all the parties you did nothing more than exchange pleasantries. But now he came out of your peripheral vision and cornered you against the wall behind you with his broad arms.

“What were you thinking, this might be the stupidest thing you've ever done.” His demeanour seemed angry, he seemed serious. But you had no reason to match it, you just wanted to get under his skin like he got under yours.

“Be careful what you say, you might actually be the stupidest thing I’ve done.” you wondered if he remembered, if he remembered the night you had spent together so many years ago, it had been the best night of your life, and you had no idea if he even remembered. If he did, he didn't let it show.

“Did you even think it through? You survived the arena once, and only barely, what makes you think you’ll make it out alive again.” His voice was a low rasp, and if you didn't know better, you'd say he sounded upset. But you knew better, Finnick had shown you his true colours when he started avoiding you, and you did remember that.

“I wasn't thinking, how could I? All I could think about was Mags having to go through it all again, you more than anyone else know she deserves better.” you were looking him in the eyes now, and it took all of your willpower not to melt. “My games weren’t that long ago, I did it then and I’m still here, I can do it again.” He stepped closer to you, eliminating the remaining space between your bodies, his chest against yours, and you could feel his heart skip a beat as he spoke.

“Exactly, I was there, and it damn near broke me too. I was there to piece you back together. But I won’t watch it happen to you again, I can’t let it happen. Because what if I’m not there this time, what if I'm not there to put you back together.” There was a stark contrast between his face and his voice. As you looked at him you saw his eyes soften, and it gave you a glimpse of the Finnick you once knew. But his voice was still filled with anger, and it snapped you back to reality.

“And how would you know what I can and cannot handle.” You were challenging him now, but he had you matched.

“Because I know you. Even if you don’t believe so, I know what youre like, I know how you think. You might believe I forgot, that I ignore you and go on with my life as if nothing happened. But if you were to actually think for one second you would see that I’m simply doing what's best for you, I just want what’s best for you but now you’ve gone and ruined all of it in one day. 

You’re at a loss for words, because maybe he was right, maybe you had gone and messed up everything with a single sentence at the reaping. But maybe everything was finally making a turn for the better, because for the first time, he was telling you he cared. And you’re thankful to finally see his thoughts shine through, but you’re overwhelmed too. So you turn around, you turn away from him, wanting to escape the confrontation. Except he’s not letting you go, not this time

“I really don’t care what you think Finnick.” You weren’t sure if you believed your own words, but you needed to get away from him.

“And I really don’t believe you.” You tried shrugging him off again, and you were about to turn away from him when you felt him grab onto your arm and pull you into him. As you looked up you could feel his eyes fixed on yours.

And so you do the only thing you can think of, you do the thing you want most in this moment right here, you kiss him. You tell yourself that consequences be damned, because even if he will hate you for it, even if you’ll regret it later, at least you have this one moment to get yourself through it, at least you didn't let your fears of losing him completely win this time.  You kiss him as if everything will be okay, because when you feel his lips start to move in sync with yours, it is. 

For a moment you think everything will resolve itself and you and Finnick can live together in a small house near the beach. For a moment you forget how much you hate him for everything he put you through. Because in this moment, if life could be like this moment, you’d forgive him for all of it. And you don't know it yet, but he’s even more scared than you are.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Eddie always notices the cheerleaders, he never notices you, so in an attempt to move on you go to Steve's party and one thing leads to another with him.

Perhaps it's the knock on the head Eddie needs to realise how he really feels?

Mdni, 18+, Fluff and angst, unrequited feelings or are they? Jealousy.

Eddie Munson X Reader.

Brief Steve Harrington x Reader.

💌🫶

Eddie was always flirting with the cheerleaders, it didn't matter if they never flirted back, or they only flirted back to piss off their boyfriends, obviously they were Eddie's type despite his intense hate of the dark side.

You watched Eddie moon over the impossibly pretty girls and sag. He would never notice you, you were just his friend, one of the members of Hellfire.

"Why do you flirt with them all the time Eddie, aren't they part of the dark side of whatever?", you ask him and the rest of Hellfire quieten, it wasn't often that someone challenged Eddie, if at all.

"Sweetheart, I like to extend my superior flirting techniques to all the ladies" he answers back with a teasing smile. All the ladies except you of course.

"Dude, you have no technique, unless technique counts at you making a total goofball ass of yourself" Gareth points out but quietens at Eddie's glare.

"Princess is a girl and you don't flirt with her" Mike adds and Eddie rolls his eyes at him.

"Because she's like one of the guys Wheeler" you still as you process Eddie's comment. One of the guys, that's all he saw you as.

"But I'm not Eddie, just say the truth that you don't feel like that for me and be done with it" you don't mean to be so snappy but Eddie's comment has hurt you.

"I just said that" he says impatiently and it sends a knife to your heart. It's the confirmation you need that he's never going to see you in the same way you see him.

...

Thursday is party night at Steve's, it's the first he's held in a while and what started as just a small intimate gathering has snowballed into tons of students finding their way to his.

He notices you at exactly the same time you notice him, you're new to the party scene. It was a spur of the moment to come here, fuelled by Eddie's comment and the need to move on.

Or to just get completely drunk and forget your heartbreak for a night.

"Hey, haven't seen you at many parties" he hands you another beer and you shrug.

"Just wanted a change, shouldn't you be mingling with the guests?" He makes a face and sits beside you, clinks his beer with yours.

"Yeah, I wasn't expecting this many people. It's not really for me anymore" you look at Steve, really look at him and realise how much he has changed from the Steve you've known for years.

The crowd cheers at someone using the beer keg, the guy is upside down and laughs with his friends as he finishes. The noise is beginning to give you a headache, Steve notices your expression and gestures to the door.

"You wanna get out of here?" He suggests and you nod. Absolutely.

...

For a while you and Steve talk, ignore the noise downstairs and you find yourself relaxing in his company.

"So Munson huh?" he asks gently and you wonder how he knows. Maybe it's the way your face lights up just at the mention of Eddie. Body flushing in embarrassment you nod and sigh.

"He doesn't even notice me" Steve scowls and gently places his hand on your shoulder, squeezes it tenderly.

"Unrequited love. I know all about that. Munson's an idiot" you peer up at Steve and his gaze lingers on your lips, desire floods through you and before you know it you and Steve are kissing.

Hesitant you break away, Steve gently strokes your cheek. "Do you want to do this? It doesn't have to be anything more than two friends seeking comfort honey?" you let that sink in for a few seconds then make your decision.

You lean forward and kiss Steve again.

As the party rages on you and Steve lose yourself in one another.

...

Bright sunshine wakes you in the morning and you groan, Steve is soundly asleep beside you and all the memories flood back.

Fuck. You slept with Steve. Steve groans as you rush out of bed and his hand gently tugs at your arm. "Hey, slow down honey" he mumbles sleepily.

Flustered you sit back down and he takes your hand, "You okay? Was last night okay?" you nod feeling a little bit shy.

"It was nice, really nice" he squeezes your hand and kisses your cheek and even though you're smiling there's a mix of emotions inside you.

You always thought your first time would be with Eddie, it was silly but that's what you thought. You know this was a one time thing but it would be nice if you got to know Steve more, he was a really great guy, nicer than you ever thought.

"I can drive you to school if you want? I need to pick up Robin anyway" you agree to this and quickly get dressed, following Steve out the door.

🫶💌

Movies sure did exaggerate first times. It was lovely but you didn't feel any different or look any different. As normal you head into school and make your way to your locker.

Whispers follow you, you begin to feel paranoid that it's about you and Steve, but the party was really busy last night so who would have seen you and Steve together?

Listening closely to the mutterings around you, you cringe when you hear your name and Steve's. Well shit. The cat was out of the bag.

You slept with Steve and somehow that fact has made it around Hawkins High gossip chain quicker than you could blink. Steve was out of high school so he didn't tell anyone, except maybe Robin but she hardly participated in school gossip. So someone must have seen you going up Steve's room at the party.

Fuck. You avoid the gazes of the rest of your classmates and just about make it to lunchtime to the safety of the Hellfire table. Rarely did any of them pay attention to any gossip, so you assumed you were safe here.

You were so very wrong. From the way that Jeff was staring at you, it was obvious he had heard what happened. Could anything just stay a secret without it making rounds? The perks of living in a small town, you grumble. Everyone knew everyone's business.

Determined you hold your head up high, you don't have anything to be ashamed of. If someone tried to do that then they were an asshole, you weren't going to pay any attention to them.

Eddie barely notices any of the stares heading the way of the Hellfire table, he's off on one of his rants and hyped up.

He winds up Jason as per the usual but Jason only smirks and his gaze rests on you. Bingo on who saw you going up to Steve's room then. You're tempted to flip him the bird but refrain from doing so. It was better to ignore the idiot.

"Hey Munson, I didn't think any of you Hellfire freaks had it in you but she's showing you all up" he points to you and you glare at him. Asshole.

Confused Eddie turns to you and Jason continues his tirade. "So how was it huh? Screwing king Steve?"

There's immediate silence in the cafeteria and you feel embarrassment flood through your body at the attention and the fact that Jason has said it publicly.

"Better than the poor girl who has to ride your tiny limp dick Carver" you reply sweetly and watch as his face goes red with rage.

"Could hear you from the other room couldn't we Chrissy? Oh Steve" he exaggerates moaning and crude gestures. Eddie has gone strangely quiet and he catches your eye.

"You slept with Harrington?" his face is blank and you don't know what to say, his reaction is strange and before you can reply the bell rings, leaving the conversation unfinished.

💌💞

You're faced with comments and giggles all through the rest of class, you put on a brave face but Eddie notices you discreetly wipe your face with the back of your hand at your locker.

All Eddie feels is rage. Steve must have let Carver know all the details of your night with him. There are other emotions churning in his body but he can't look at them too closely because they will change everything.

So he focuses on the rage and decides to go and see Steve.

...

Steve didn't expect a visit from Eddie Munson, he's stacking shelves with Robin and help from Dustin who's practically mooning over his new friend.

Then the guy walks in, his brown eyes flashing with anger and makes a beeline straight for Steve who can barely react when Eddie's fist hits his face.

The videos scatter and Dustin exclaims in shock as Robin rushes to help him. Steve clutches his nose and glares at Munson. "Dude, what the fuck?"

"Cut the shit Harrington. Did you tell Carver all about your night with yn? Spread all the details so people would hound her all fucking day?" Steve gapes and realises that Eddie has gotten the wrong idea.

"What? no way dude. That night was between us" he watches Eddie's anger deflate slightly. Grudgingly he helps Steve up but is still glaring daggers at him, gingerly Steve massages his nose and winces.

"Jeez Munson, that was a mean hit. Are you jealous or something?" Eddie's eyes widen and he scoffs.

"Jealous? I'm not jealous" Robin scrutinises Eddie and nods as does Dustin. He was totally jealous, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"Well you're acting like it dude, she's not your girlfriend so why do you care who she sleeps with" Eddie seems lost for words and opens and closes his mouth several times.

"Dude, did you just realise now after you told her that she wasn't your type" Dustin rolls his eyes at him and Eddie looks sheepish. Robin gapes at him and whacks him on the shoulder.

"Oh my god, you're an even bigger dingus than Steve" she exclaims, Eddie winces and rubs his shoulder.

"I know I'm an idiot. I fucked up, I realised once I heard about you and her and that I've been hiding how I feel for months. So yeah you're right Buckley, I'm a dingus"

Dustin looks between Eddie and Steve, catches Robin's eyes and rolls his eyes. "So why don't you just get on with it and tell her?" He asks exasperated.

Eddie bites his lip, he knows he has to tell you but what if he's too late? He voices his concerns and Robin smiles. "You never know until you say something"

He nods still nervous but determined, and he also still has the urge to kick Steve but he puts that down to the jealousy still pulsing in his veins. He had to do this, had to be Eddie the Brave and win his princess.

...

Eddie's at your door with wildflowers he plucked from the forest, he hands them to you and you smile, feeling better already.

"What a shit day" you sag and he pulls you into a hug, you're exhausted with the wave of emotions that has been plauging you all day. Then you remember Steve's call and peer at Eddie.

"Steve told me you hit him" Eddie's cheeks turn pink and he ducks his head to avoid your gaze.

"I thought Steve managed to spread around about your night together and I kinda lost it, you were so upset and it pissed me off... I was totally jealous as well" he says this in a quieter tone and you're sure you've misheard him.

"You were jealous of me and Steve?" he nods and you're puzzled by this because he said he didn't see you that way. Noticing your confusion Eddie gives you one of his sweet dimpled smiles.

"Yeah, I'm a dumbass or a dingus as Robin said" you snort feeling exasperated. After all this heartache it turns out that he does have feelings for you after all.

"You couldn't have figured this out earlier?" his cheeks warm at your response.

"I know, I have now and I'm hoping I'm not extremely late and that maybe you feel the same way sweetheart?" you tug him to you, hooking your fingers through the waistband of his jeans and kissing him then breaking away secretly thrilled when he looks dazed.

He captures your lips with his again and you can't help but smile.

"You're a dingus Eddie Munson" he gives you the sweetest, goofiest grin and tugs you close to him.

'I know Princess, but I'm your dingus"

💞🫶

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [7]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4k

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.

Part 6 | Fic Masterlist | Part 8

"Has anyone seen the mistress?" Seonghwa inquired, having lost sight of you since breakfast that morning.

He had combed through almost the entire estate, searching for you in the House of Lotus and with Eunsook, but to no avail. He had even gone as far as to check Yunho's temporary quarters, only to find the physician alone and engrossed in his work.

The general felt a twinge of embarrassment as he recalled asking the doctor, "Do you have any clue where my wife is?" only to have the taller man furrow his brows in confusion and reply, "Wha— not to be rude, but how would I know that, my lord?"

Your husband cleared his throat loudly, looking away and feigning nonchalance, "Don't get clever with me; I'm just asking. If you don't know, just say so."

Yunho lowered his head and suppressed a laugh, "You're right. My apologies, my lord. I hope you find Lady Park soon. Her next dose of medicine is almost ready. It would be best if she takes it while it's hot; the taste is slightly more bearable."

"Right, I'll find her soon. Don't worry."

The physician nodded, "I have no doubt that you will, my lord."

With that, Seonghwa hastily exited the room, questioning his decision to come there in the first place. He couldn't fathom why he assumed you would be with the handsome doctor. Even though he hadn't found you yet, there was a sense of relief in knowing that at least you weren't anywhere near Yunho, as he had feared.

And that's how he ended up back at your quarters, interrogating the servants responsible for maintaining your garden. A frown etched on his face as they shook their heads in response, "No, master. Mistress hasn't returned here since leaving for breakfast this morning."

Worry crept in as his mind conjured up wild scenarios. What if you had been taken away? What if you got hurt somewhere, unnoticed by anyone? What if—

His eyes landed on the pavilion in your garden, and it struck him. Remembering your determination to learn lady etiquette, he chastised himself for not thinking to check his own study. He had searched almost every corner of the estate except the very place he frequented the most.

Please, let her be there.

Fingers crossed, he hurried towards the study. If he didn't find you there, he might have to organise a search party.

"There you are."

His words escaped in a breathless whisper as he spotted you standing amidst his numerous shelves, completely engrossed in the book cradled in your hands. Instant relief washed over him, and he struggled to look away. Bathed in sunlight by the window, you appeared almost ethereal in that spot, your side profile captivating.

The marks on your skin had started to fade a little, with the help of Yunho's ointment, proving its effectiveness. For your comfort, the maids were instructed not to apply makeup if you weren't leaving the estate. Besides, no one here would dare consider you anything less than beautiful; you were adored by all. Your scars only strengthened everyone's determination to protect you, not just your husband.

He continued to quietly admire you from his corner, hesitant to disturb you. As you finished one book and reached for the next on a top shelf, he chuckled at your determination, especially when you went on your toes, biting your lip in concentration.

Eventually, he sighed and approached you, reaching effortlessly for the book you were attempting to get. You gasped as you felt his presence and saw his hand beside yours, "Y-you're here, Seonghwa."

Both your breaths hitched, and your eyes widened as you turned around to face him, realising the closeness. Surprised, you stumbled backwards, and his reflexes kicked in, his arm circling your back immediately, pulling you close. Frozen, your hands rested on his chest to steady yourself.

"Yes, I'm here." He murmured, his eyes shifting to see you biting your lips shyly again, the action reigniting his desire to kiss you. You stood still as a plank, heart pounding as he slowly closed the space between you. You held your breath when feeling his nose touch yours. Never having been kissed or wanted in your life, you didn't know how to react or what to do. Was this what married couples normally do?

Maybe now you'll find out.

A chill ran down your spine when you felt his lips brush lightly against yours, "Can I..." He muttered in his deep voice, gazing down at you with hooded eyes.

Before you could form a response, the door to the study slammed open, startling the two of you, and causing you to jump apart as if caught doing something scandalous.

Damn it, so close!

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, sir! I didn't mean to interrupt; it's just that—" Jongho was a mess as he stumbled in, panting and sputtering his apology.

You quickly waved to the assistant to signal it was fine before bowing to the general, "No, please, don't worry! I was just leaving anyway. I'll see you at dinner, Seonghwa."

Smiling at you, your husband nodded, "Yes. See you, my dear," The smile disappeared as soon as you left the room, causing Jongho to gulp nervously, "This better be good."

The assistant quickly collected himself, "Oh, it will be good, sir. I can promise you that." He said, rushing to make sure the doors were shut tightly before going back to debrief his master on his latest findings.

Eunsook heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing you, her concern evident as she observed you pressing your palms against your red cheeks, "Mistress, are you feeling alright?" She inquired, checking your forehead for any signs of fever.

You nodded, "I-I'm fine," attempting to calm your rapid heartbeat. The almost-lost moment with your husband lingered continuously in your mind; your first kiss had come perilously close to happening just moments ago.

"Thank goodness, you're alright. We've been looking everywhere for you. Where were you?" She questioned, and you replied, "You were looking for me? I was just reading in Seonghwa's study."

The elderly woman continued, "Yes, your medicine is ready. Physician Jung suggested taking it while it's hot," With an obedient nod, you followed her into your room. As she fed you the herbal soup, she casually asked, "You were in the master's study, you say? Did he find you there? He was searching frantically for you."

Your blush returned as you recalled the sensation of his lips brushing against yours, "Y-yes, he knows I'm safe. Don't worry." You reassured her while the head maid beamed, unaware of the fluttering in your heart as you tried to compose yourself.

Unlike you, the general did not have the luxury to linger on thoughts of your intimate moment. He vowed to himself that once your family received the retribution they deserved, he would dedicate all his attention to you. He turned serious the moment Jongho began speaking, updating him on the latest intel gathered about your family.

"What? Do those fools actually believe I'd swap my wife for one of them? Not even in their wildest dreams will that ever happen." Seonghwa scoffed in disbelief. The mere thought of your stepsisters was enough to repulse him, and he couldn't wait to send them to an early grave.

He pulled out the Jang family records again, asking, "And as for this... are there any updates? We only have a few days left until I return to work."

Jongho nodded proudly, presenting a couple of documents obtained in a not-so-honest manner, "You were right, sir. Your suspicions were accurate. We found just the thing to prove it. With this, we can finalise the plans and finally set them into motion."

"Good job, Jongho. How about that private investigator of yours?" The general inquired, his mind already buzzing with excitement as he plotted your family's demise.

The assistant bowed in gratitude, "He's still maintaining his cover in the Jang estate. He expressed his desire to assist us with the plan. Apparently, he's a huge admirer of yours, sir. That seemed to be his primary motivation for readily accepting my offer."

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes, his mistrust evident, "Is he now? Have you done a background check on him?"

"I have, sir. He's in the clear; I can vouch for him. I'm confident he harbours no ulterior motives other than a genuine admiration for you; he wants nothing more than to be recognised by you."

The general nodded, picking up the newly retrieved documents, "If you say so, I guess it won't hurt to have an extra helping hand. Make sure to pay him handsomely. Now, go get some rest; we'll be getting busy soon." His heart was immediately eased by his aide's assurance. If Jongho trusted this person, there must be a good reason.

"Yes, sir."

In the days that followed, Seonghwa appeared awfully busy, often confined to his study with Jongho for endless meetings. The next morning, you found a collection of your lady etiquette books delivered to your doorstep, with a servant mentioning that the study was required for important discussions between your husband and his assistant.

Assuming he was loaded with work after taking several days off, you didn't dwell on it much. While the general focused on perfecting his plans, you spent your days refining your etiquette with the head maid's help, working on correcting your posture, walking, table manners, and way of speaking.

The two of you only had brief encounters twice a day, during breakfast and dinner. Seonghwa apologised repeatedly, promising to spend more time with you once he completed his current project, and you reassured him that you were fine.

Time passed quickly, and before you knew it, a new week had begun, marking your husband's return to work. After your customary breakfast together, you walked him to the entrance of the estate, where his carriage awaited to transport him to the palace for the morning assembly with His Majesty, the King.

"This is as far as you'll see me off. It's cold out here, so don't spend too much time outdoors, okay? Head back to my study if you want, and take your medicine on time." He reminded sweetly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You smiled appreciatively, assuring him, "I will, Seonghwa. Don't worry about me. Have a good day at work." His heart melted at your words, and the sense of being husband and wife settled in. Having someone waiting for him at home felt unexpectedly warm, and he realised he could get used to it.

That's right, just keep smiling like that.

Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, he pressed a kiss onto your knuckles, saying, "I'll see you later, my dear."

Eunsook and Jongho exchanged knowing grins as they guided their master and mistress in opposite directions—Seonghwa into his carriage and you back to your quarters.

Carrying you in his thoughts, the general commenced his journey to the royal palace. He had always harboured disdain for the Minister of Military Affairs, but it had never been potent enough to instigate his downfall. However, circumstances had taken a drastic turn with your arrival. Your father had gravely miscalculated if he believed this union between you was a wise decision; in reality, it paved the way for his own undoing.

Unfazed by the attention, he arrived at the assembly, becoming the centre of attention for all the ministers and officials. Their curiosity was stirred by the general who had adamantly refused marriage, yet now found himself wedded against his will. Speculation abounded about whether he would cause a scene, as all members had been notified of his special agenda.

Your husband, however, remained unaffected by the scrutiny. He anticipated the spotlight, fully aware that these old fools relished nothing more than witnessing his misery. Despite his recognised achievements, it didn't automatically translate into wholehearted acceptance from these higher-ups. Their displeasure was palpable, harbouring reservations about his young age and the potential threat he posed to their established ranks.

The revelation of his marriage to you only fueled their satisfaction, as they believed that being tied to the Minister of Military Affairs would ensure Seonghwa's perpetual subordination, always a step below his father-in-law in rank.

"Good morning, General Park. You seem to be in quite a good mood." Your husband felt his eye twitch, hearing the voice he wasn't looking forward to.

Speak of the devil.

Facing your father, he smirked, "Good morning, Minister Jang. I can't deny that I am feeling quite good." It satisfied him to see your father's grin falter slightly, knowing the old man probably didn't know what to expect, but it surely wasn't this. The last thing they all expected was for him to appear... pleased.

Before the minister could voice any questions, the King entered the hall. Along with everyone else, the general knelt and bowed deeply, performing the formal greeting. In unison, they chanted, "Your Majesty, may you live a long and prosperous life. We wish for you ten thousand years of life and reign."

"You may all rise," declared His Majesty before expressing joy at the presence of his favourite subject, "Seonghwa, my boy! You're finally back! Oh, I cannot wait to hear all about your week off."

The minister raised a smug brow, eyeing your husband and presuming that his week could not have been too pleasant with you around. While he was almost certain of that, it seemed the general was adept at keeping up the act. Your father eagerly anticipated hearing about this important agenda without delay.

"Tell me, my boy. Is your wife as beautiful as we all speculated? There must have been a good reason for the minister to keep her so well hidden all these years." The King inquired, his excitement evident as he leaned forward in his seat.

Seonghwa chuckled, "Your Majesty, perhaps it wouldn't be too appropriate for us to engage in idle chatter in this meeting. After all, I'm sure all the ministers and officials here have more pressing matters to discuss and probably care little for the details of my marriage." He was merely teasing at this point, knowing full well that everyone was eager to hear about his past week.

"Nonsense! What could possibly be more important than your recent wedding? If anyone here has no interest in what General Park has to share, you are welcome to leave the assembly."

While leaving the assembly might seem like a simple option, it practically equated to a death sentence. Without the King's explicit permission, no one would be allowed to exit on their own. This implied that whoever refused to listen to what your husband had to say might as well be choosing a path leading to their demise.

All the higher-ups immediately bowed their heads low with clenched fists as they voiced in unison, "Of course not! We wouldn't dare, Your Majesty!" They were well aware of Seonghwa's subtle assertion of power over the King. Regardless of their high positions or ranks, he would always be the favourite. While it might go unnoticed by the less perceptive, it was a clear demonstration of authority, a warning not to cross him.

"Very well, I suppose I'll divulge a bit about my wife since you're all so eager to hear about her," The general couldn't conceal his shit-eating grin, pleased to have put these elderly men in their rightful places. The King applauded enthusiastically, "Please do!"

Minister Jang's earlier arrogance evaporated with your husband's unmistakable show of power, and he could only suppress his irritation as he waited to hear what Seonghwa would say about you.

"To answer your question, Your Majesty, she is even more stunning than you all might imagine, perhaps the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon, both inside and out, at least in my eyes. And you were right, my King, she truly is perfect for me. For that, I'd like to express my gratitude for sending her to me."

The entire room stood at a standstill as everyone tried to process his words. It was almost surreal that the formidable General Park, who had always been so adamant about never marrying and was coerced into this union without a choice, openly expressed his admiration for his new wife. Apart from the King, who genuinely relished hearing it, the rest of the assembly remained sceptical, wondering what game Seonghwa was playing.

"And because of that, I regret my earlier decision of not having a proper wedding ceremony. I now know my wife deserves only the best, which brings me to the important matter I'd like to address today, Your Majesty. I was hoping you would grant me permission to fix that. I'd like to plan a grand wedding to make up to her."

Your father narrowed his eyes dangerously; this was the furthest thing from what he had expected. He would rather die than give you a grand wedding. He thought he was finally done with you, believing you could have perished for all he cared. Yet, here your husband was, requesting to host a grand wedding? And for you?

Over my dead body.

His Majesty couldn't contain his joy, letting out a surprised laugh, "Oh my, Seonghwa! I'm so proud of you; I was beginning to grow worried you'd never allow yourself to love again. And of course, you can have a grand wedding! We shall host one as grand as a royal wedding if need be! Heavens, I cannot wait to meet this new Lady Park of yours; she must be something for you to have changed this much!"

Minister Jang cleared his throat, "Your Majesty, if I may cut in."

The King nodded, "Why, of course. It's your daughter we're discussing; do you have any ideas for the ceremony?"

Your father shook his head, "N-no, my King. I was hoping to remind the general that my daughter prefers simplicity and that this would not be necessary—"

With a smirk, Seonghwa cut him off, "Well then, minister, it would seem you do not know your daughter well enough, or at all."

The Minister of Military Affairs stilled at that; obviously, the general knew more than he let on, "Wha— that's not true! My eldest has always been one for frugality and would never ask for much, let alone a grand wedding; she might find that burdensome."

"Has she really not asked for much, or has she not been permitted to have a voice at all?" Your husband pressed, watching expectantly as the minister sputtered lame excuses, caught off guard.

Not oblivious to the fact that Seonghwa was attempting to convey something, the King raised a brow at Minister Jang's defensive demeanour, "What is it that you wish to say, my boy?"

Panicked, your father gulped, afraid of what the general might reveal. Not once did he think the heartless General Park would ever care about what happened to you. He assumed that, just like all the members of his family and estate, your new husband would also cast you aside and not bat an eyelash if you died, as had happened with all his previous marriage candidates.

"Your Majesty, even though Minister Jang is now my father-in-law, I feel compelled to speak out against the injustice I perceive for my wife," The minister did not dare to look up as he felt cold sweat dripping down his back, listening anxiously to what Seonghwa was going to disclose, "No matter how much he thinks she prefers simplicity, it just wasn't right for him to have sent her to me all alone on our wedding day."

With a frown, His Majesty eyed your father judgementally, "All alone? Please elaborate, Seonghwa."

Suppressing his sly grin, your husband continued, "My assistant found her wandering all by herself by the entrance of my estate, without a chaperone, any servants or palanquin bearers. And what's worse, she barely had anything on her, only carrying an empty duffel bag. Tell me, Your Majesty, who would believe her to be a noblewoman from a powerful house? I simply cannot understand why the minister could do this to his precious daughter."

"Is that true, Minister Jang?" The King's emotionless voice rang across the hall, and the minister shivered from the chill running down his spine, "W-well, yes, but—"

Everyone jumped when His Majesty slammed his fist against the handle of his throne, "That is simply unacceptable! It doesn't matter how much you insist your daughter favours simplicity; what you've done is completely ridiculous. Can you even call yourself her father? Oh, the poor girl."

Your father bowed all the way down immediately, pressing his forehead against the floor as he begged for forgiveness, embarrassed to have his wrongdoings exposed at assembly for everyone to listen like this, "Please, Your Majesty! Forgive this old fool for taking my kind daughter for granted! I will do anything to make up to her as you wish, a grand wedding if you will."

As if seeking Seonghwa's approval, the King looked at the general, "Would that suffice?"

Shrugging, your husband pressed his lips into a line, "I suppose I do have one condition, though," His Majesty nodded, "Name it."

The general smiled, "I've troubled you enough with concerns regarding my marital matters, Your Majesty. For this wedding of mine, I'd like to personally make the arrangements with the minister and his family, preferably at his estate."

"At his estate and not here? Why is that, Seonghwa?" The King asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"I just want to see where my beloved wife spent all her childhood; I'm curious about the environment that made her so precious."

As the King showered praise on your husband for his apparent sweetness and saw it merely as Seonghwa being hopelessly in love with you, Minister Jang knew better than that he had an ulterior motive, and it couldn't bode well. The general clearly has something up his sleeves, but in the presence of His Majesty, your father found himself with little choice but to comply.

What do you want from me, Park Seonghwa?

« Preview of Part 8 »

"What?! A grand wedding for that useless thing? Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Jinah screeched, her frustration evident as she pulled at her hair.

Jinhee, in disbelief, glared at your old prison cell of a room from a distance. Servants had been ordered to fill it up with things to make it seem like a storeroom in preparation for Seonghwa's visit, "Maybe we've underestimated her. It seems she actually got the general wrapped around her finger."

Minister Jang had nothing to say except to hold his head in his hands. He couldn't forget the King's disapproving looks directed at him all throughout the assembly after what your husband had revealed. Not just His Majesty; but even the other ministers and officials had been staring at him weirdly, not understanding him for what he did to his own daughter.

Jinjoo stomped around like a brat, "Father, you promised us that marrying her to him would bring us satisfaction! What the hell is this?! I refuse to accept this!"

Having had enough of their whining, the minister threw the wine glass beside him onto the floor, "Be quiet, all of you! Do you honestly think the wedding is what matters now? My position could very well be in danger, and you care about that? Fools! Get out of my sight!"

The three were taken aback by the minister's unexpected fit of anger, and their mother quickly gestured for them to leave the living hall at once. Once they were gone, Lady Jang sat down beside her husband, "What is it, dear? What's wrong?"

"Park Seonghwa knows something, I'm sure of it. He said some things today that could make me look suspicious, and if anyone starts digging around, I fear they might find out what we've been trying to hide..."

Woohoo, shit's about to go down! Are y'all excited? HAHAHA🤭

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[reidmotif]

Coffee and Consequences

Summary: Reader joins the BAU, and Spencer seems insistent on being a problem for her.

Request: pls i am such a sucker for angst/smut, can you do one where spencer is closed off and cold to a new recruit, and it upsets her, so she tries to get him to like her, which leads to an argument and confession, with soft smut?

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut/Light Angst (Happy Ending)

Content Warning: Reader POV, little shit Spencer, oral sex (f recieveing), gunshot wound/typical canon violence, unprotected sex

Word Count: 6.1k

Upon starting at the BAU, I believed there was no question about me, especially when it came to my skills and ability to perform my job. From stellar recommendations from my superiors at the Academy, to general demeanor and tact, there was no question about whether or not my success was imminent. Most of the team were more than elated to welcome me to the small family they’d built over the years, despite my younger age than most of them, which I was eternally grateful for. 

Most, being the keyword in that sentence. Since I’d begun, there’d been one thorn in my roses, the bane of my existence, you might say. Spencer fucking Reid. I’m aware of the fact that not everyone could like me, that was a given. I'm an FBI agent, for god’s sake. To expect warmth and friendship from everyone would be naive and lead to disappointment in any given scenario. 

But Jesus Christ, this was getting absolutely ridiculous. 

I consistently replayed the events of our first meeting. In an attempt to make a good first impression, (which seems stupid, in hindsight) I brought coffee to each of my new co-workers, hoping to establish myself as a friendly, non-threatening presence in their lives. I’d covertly asked Emily for help, as within the interviews and background checks required to even be considered for a position in the BAU, there was a certain camaraderie and friendship forged through the continued exposure to each other. 

Emily advised me carefully, understanding the intentions behind the act, and being more than happy to help.  “JJ likes vanilla lattes, nothing too fancy. Rossi is a little simpler, a Caffe Americano.” I spoke, and continued to go through my team’s regular orders, until there was hesitation on a somewhat infamous name, one that I myself was already intrigued by. “Spencer’s an easy order to remember, but you have to make sure you get it right.” 

I found myself nodding, the seriousness of Emily’s words striking me- momentarily finding myself forgetting that they were speaking about something as mundane as coffee. "Emily spoke slowly, as if I was advising a child. 'Reid likes black coffee, but you have to make sure to add extra sugar.'" I nodded quickly, "Alright, black coffee with extra sugar, got it-" Emily interrupted me abruptly. "No, no. You're not hearing me, extra sugar. I mean a lot, okay? Otherwise, he quite literally won't drink it."

I found myself chuckling a little bit, thinking about the image of Spencer Reid I’d built up in my head before I’d even met him. I knew he had been framed and had endured a considerable time in prison. I was also aware of his intelligence, a natural by-product of all the papers he’d written, and how many of his own techniques in geographic profiling were referenced during my time in the Academy. Working with him seemed like a dream come true. The idea of a grown man needing as much sugar in his coffee as Emily made it seem added just a bit of charm to the already positive perception I’d had of him. 

In the coffee shop, I carefully recited the orders of my new teammates, taking extra caution in advising the barista that the black coffee needed extra sugar. I could tell the patrons behind me were definitely annoyed, but it didn’t matter. First impressions matter more. Even after my incessant requests about sugar, I took the time to open the lid of the steaming black coffee to add in 3 extra packets of brown sugar provided at the customization station in the back of the coffee shop. I could tell the barista was boring holes into the back of my head, and I honestly wasn’t surprised or could blame her. At this point, the sugar had to be more than the coffee itself. I gave a satisfied grin to myself, knowing I’d followed Emily’s directions and the possibility of friendship with someone I’d already come to admire wasn’t something far-off to wish for. 

God, was I wrong. 

I approached the bullpen cautiously, being greeted by an assortment of new faces. I quickly matched names to descriptors that had been given to me from Emily. I then noticed one face that hadn’t greeted me yet, sat alone in the back with his nose in a book. I couldn’t discern the title, which I quickly figured was due to the fact that the book appeared to be some European language I’d most likely never even heard of. The man had a mess of brown hair on his head, and even from across the room I could tell it was curling softly near the nape of his neck. He was handsome. More handsome than I had pegged him for. I knew almost immediately that this had to have been the infamous Spencer Reid, and I cautiously approached him, flashing a small smile. 

He heard me a mile away, looking up quickly and putting away his book. His eyes seemed to size me up, and he didn’t seem to return my smile. I knew better than to shake hands with him, being predisposed to his germaphobe nature and instead held out the coffee, almost as if it was a peace offering. 

“Hi, uh. I’m the new recruit, I believe Emily warned you all about me and I just wanted to introduce myself. (Y/N). That’s my name. It’s nice to meet you.” I said, a little dumbly, still holding the coffee out. I quickly realized I hadn’t explained the reasoning behind the coffee cup and quickly added, “Coffee. I asked Emily about how you liked it. And brought it. So, yeah.” I said. I was aware of how awkward this conversation was becoming, considering I was still holding out the cup, like an idiot, and he hadn’t said a word to me yet. He nodded, taking the coffee cup from me and placing it on his desk. “Dr Reid. Welcome.” His greeting was short, but I tried not to let it bother me. Perhaps he wasn’t as forthcoming to strangers, nevermind that. The coffee was enough. I smiled, again, hoping to make my intentions clear. “Nice to meet you, Dr Reid.” 

I turned back, feeling satisfied. I’d done what I’d come there to do. Except a sound from behind me alerted me that maybe I was a bit early to assume that, because when I’d turned around, an incredibly displeased Dr Reid was throwing away his coffee- the coffee I had brought! That I’d waited for in a morning rush for, that I’d taken the time to add even more sugar to- that coffee! In the trash! His eyes met mine as he dropped it into the trashcan near his desk, shuddering a bit as he did so. He didn’t even look apologetic. 

I approached him, a bit upset and sad, but there was caution in my tone, not wanting to offend him before he even had a chance to know me. “Dr Reid, I’m sorry was the coffee-” Dr Reid quickly interrupted me. “Did Emily not tell you my order?” He asked, a little bit of sharpness to his tone. 

Okay, so this guy took his coffee seriously. Emily was not kidding around. 

“Um, yes-” He interrupted again. “Yes? Are you sure?” He said, a bit of condescension in his tone. Okay, holy shit. All this over coffee? “Very sure.” I responded, confidently. “Black, with extra sugar- I even put extra at the counter.” I added this, trying to convey that while I was sorry it wasn’t to his liking, it’s not like I didn’t try. That had to count for something, right? 

Wrong. Spencer Reid did not seem like the type of man who cared about trying. He retorted with, “Well, it wasn’t enough.” And with that, he shuffled to the breakroom, seemingly to make his own coffee. 

It seemed like from there, things only got worse. In one of my first cases, I quickly made a quip about the statistics on suburban murders, hoping to add some valuable information to the conversation. I tried hard not to overpower anyone and stay in my lane as the resident newbie, but Spencer seemed to take personal offense to it, going out of his way to argue that it meant nothing. I fired back, hoping to affront my point but Reid quickly cut me off.

 “You’re new, alright? And young. It’s granted that you should be clueless when it comes to some of these things.” His words, although somewhat true, were accompanied by a harsh tone and a coldness in his voice. What could’ve been well-meaning advice from a senior agent on the team was clearly not that at all. All signs pointed to one thing: He absolutely hated me. 

For all I tried, it seemed like he only disliked me more. It wasn’t unnoticed by my teammates, how he’d dismiss me. I was aware of my newness, of my inexperience, how this team had had years to grow around each other before I was ever even considered for this position, but it seemed with the more time I spent at the BAU, Spencer’s disdain only increased. He seemed to go out of his way to not sit by me on the jet, or how he seemed absolutely uninterested in anything involving me. I understood that not everyone would like me, but a bit of respect would be nice. I didn’t need friendship, just his tolerance, and even that seemed out of reach for Dr Spencer Reid. 

Eventually, this led to the dynamic  we harbored now. A year into the BAU, and instead of a friendship, or even acquaintanceship, it was constant bickering. It’s not like I wanted to argue- he just made it impossible for me to find footing within the BAU. I obviously stood up for myself, but was met with resistance from the doctor, and so the cycle continued. 

Still, despite the obvious dislike Reid harbored for me, it wasn’t like that magically made him dumb, or any less attractive to me. His intelligence was as impressive as I’d expected it to be, if not even moreso. I watched in real-time as the cogs in his mind turned, his slender fingers finding a point on the side of his mouth to tap, before stopping and sharing what he’d just thought of. He was brilliant, and no one could take that away from him

 However, in this particular case we were currently dealing with, it seemed that brilliance simply didn’t matter, because how could someone like him be so absolutely stupid? 

The hostage situation we were dealing with was tricky, to say the least. Multiple civilians, and a trigger happy unsub. Any experienced agent would be at a loss when handling something like this, but Spencer seemed confident. He’d been pushing to storm the building, citing that more people would get hurt the longer they allowed the unsub to continue making demands. I found myself  wholeheartedly disagreeing, attempting to put my foot down and be heard. I found that perhaps, through negotiations, we could not only save the civilians, but walk away with zero people hurt. Naturally, this caused commotion between the senior agent and myself. 

“Reid, I’ve told you for the millionth time that this unsub can’t be approached like this!” I whisper-yelled, clearly fed up with Spencer by this point. He questioned every decision of mine, and it's gotten to me. 

“(Y/N), you’ve dealt with maybe 3 hostage situations in your life. This isn’t something for you to take point on. We have civilians in there, and it’s more important we save them.” He responded, in his own hiss. 

“You’re being ridiculous!” I retorted. 

“You’re naive!” He shot back. 

We’d clearly reached a head when it came to this. Spencer huffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m using my seniority here. We’re going to give the go-ahead to SWAT and make our way into the building.” 

I found myself returning the gesture. “Spencer- '' I began, only to be interrupted.

 “Dr Reid.” He corrected, venom in his voice. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I replied, furrowing my brows. 

“What?” He countered, seeming calm, but his eyes gave away simply how determined he was to win this. 

“This is a terrible idea.” I said, firmly. “Someone’s going to get hurt.” 

“Oh, and how do you know that?” Spencer quipped. “Is it your years of experience in the field? Or your time spent as an FBI agent?” He said, sarcastically. 

“I understand I don’t have as much experience as you, but-” I started, but I found myself cut off by him again. Bastard. He never let me finish my sentences. “Exactly.” He responded, calmly. “You don’t have as much experience. I know what I’m doing. Let’s go.” And with that, he walked, leaving me to simply follow. God, I fucking hated that guy. Forget the intelligence, none of that mattered when he was such a dick. 

As they entered the warehouse doors behind SWAT, I  knew that it was wrong. Something was off. We’d profiled this unsub as the dominant type, and an egotistical personality that wouldn’t allow for a partner. It was a part of the profile that they were sure of. It was part of the reason why Spencer was so confident of going in. 

Upon entering though, the SWAT team had a clear shot of the unsub, but in a split second, there were shots heard from an entirely different part of the warehouse. From the direction in which Spencer was directly in line of. 

It wasn’t like I thought about it, maybe if I had, I wouldn’t have done it. It was based on pure instinct. I found myself in front of Spencer Reid, the man who’d questioned my every decision since I’d begun my job, taking a bullet for him. Maybe he was right, maybe I was an idiot. 

I heard the gunshot first, then felt the cold floor pressing into my cheek where I’d been knocked down. Then a tight pressure in my arm. I finally looked down, seeing a bloom of red appear under my dress shirt where a bullet had struck, away from the vest I wore to prevent this sort of thing. I took in a sharp breath of air, eyes widening as my breathing began to quicken. I rolled onto my back, only to be met with Spencer’s concerned and frightened expression above me. I heard ins and outs of his speech into his receiver, as I faded in and out of consciousness. 

“Yes! We have an agent down. We need medic, now!” He yelled. I watched him in fascination, his face currently seeming to be the only thing I could focus on besides the overwhelming burning that I felt. I heard him speak to me, calmly. “Y/N? Stay with me, okay? You need to stay conscious. Okay?” He spoke to me calmly, but the waver in his voice was unmistakable. I found my eyelids growing heavier as I nodded. 

It wasn’t long until I came to, groggily opening my eyes to see Spencer’s concerned face looking back at me. I heard his voice, soft and distant. 

“(Y/N)..?” Spencer said, cautiously. 

“Dr Reid?” was my response. I was still a bit dizzy, and a bit confused about my whereabouts. 

“You were shot.” He replied, immediately. “In your arm.” He added, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 

I found myself chuckling, “Yeah, I can tell.” I said, my eyes meeting his. His expression was a bit unreadable, a mix between sternness and apprehension. I watched him, as his gaze shifted and he bit his lip. “You took it for me.” He said, suddenly. “The bullet, I mean.” He continued. “It would’ve hit me if you hadn’t gotten in the way.” 

“Gotten in the way?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Gotten in the way.” He repeated back to me, his face hard. 

“Are you upset I took a bullet for you?” I said, furrowing my brows, my lips parting in shock. Was this guy serious? 

“Yes.” He said, his voice angry. “What were you thinking?” His voice wavered with anger and another emotion I couldn’t quite discern in that moment. 

“I wasn’t thinking, I just-” 

“Exactly.” He responded, harshly. “You weren’t thinking.” He said, his voice reaching a volume I’d never heard before, granted, it was still collected, but I’d never seen this side of him. 

I contemplated how to respond to this, actually not being able to believe that he could be mad at me for something like this. Yes, it was brash but- he didn’t get shot! Isn’t that a plus? His voice broke my thoughts, now a bit more shaky, softer. “Do you have any idea what that would mean? If you’d been hurt worse, what that would mean for me?” He said, looking right at my face, into my eyes with a blaze. “What you mean to me?” 

I found myself unable to respond, still not being able to grapple with what he was saying. What he was implying. “Sorry?” I asked, softly. 

“(Y/N)..” He said, softly. His own expression mirrored my confusion mixed with longing I’d never seen before on him. Especially when he looked at me. His hand brushed across my face, moving some hair that had drifted near my eye. I held my breath as he did so, watching as his tongue slipped out to wet his bottom lip, still watching intently. I felt my lips slightly part as he came closer, unsure what was going to happen in this moment, but regardless, my gaze was intently trained on his. 

In a split second though, the sounds of the rest of the BAU filtered into the hospital room. They jumped away from each other, Spencer now 4 feet away from me. Emily came up to my bedside, looking at the wound. 

The typical chastisement came, and the general choruses of appreciation that I was still alive. The diagnosis revealed that (Y/N) would be just fine, given I remembered to clean my wound liberally and change the bandages.

In about a week, I found myself discharged. I was given about 2 more weeks to rest at my apartment. I assumed the time would be enough to forget the strange moment I’d had in the hospital room. At some points, if I tried hard enough, I could convince myself it hadn’t happened at all. The tenderness in his eyes, the way his gaze drifted to my lips, so subtle it could’ve as easily been a figment of imagination. I shook my head, as if I could rid myself of all the feelings I’d harbored about that specific moment. I made my way to the kitchen, grabbing a fresh-set of bandages to apply on the recovering wound, wincing as I peeled away the layers of gauze to reveal the injury. As I began to apply the anti-septic, I began to wrap the gauze, until I heard a knock at my apartment door. 

I put down the gauze, looking through the peephole and being surprised to see the senior agent that had been haunting my thoughts for the past few weeks. I opened the door quickly, meeting his pensive gaze. 

“Can I come in?” He said, quickly, almost if he didn’t say the words fast enough, he’d bolt the other direction. I sensed the confusion about his own actions, and opened the door wider, allowing him to push past me into my apartment. He noticed the gauze, and the open wound, and raised an eyebrow. 

“I was changing the gauze, sorry.” I said, explaining the sight on my kitchen table. He immediately took a step towards the table, picking up the bandages. “Let me help.” He said, quietly, motioning for me to sit down. 

I found myself sitting, out of pure habit of obeying him, but still shook my head. 

 “Dr Reid, no, it’s fine.” He quickly shook his head, mirroring my previous actions,  already beginning to take my arm, his light touches on my bare skin shooting a shiver up my spine. This was noticeable to him, him immediately retracting his hand. 

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” He asked, softly. 

I found myself shaking my head. “No, no. Sorry. Just. Continue.” I said, trying to get the words out without looking at him. I suddenly remembered the strangeness of this situation, and forced myself to calm down as he began to carefully wrap the bandages around my injury, swallowing and looking up. 

“Dr Reid, why are you here?” I asked, carefully. I made sure that my tone was neutral, not trying to express displeasement, but still a bit confused about his intentions here. 

“You took a bullet for me.” He replied, simply, as if that explained why he was in my apartment, looming over me as he tenderly wrapped gauze over my arm, looking at me with the gentlest gaze I’d ever seen on him. I sighed, locking eyes with him. “I know, but-” He interrupted. “No, (Y/N), you don’t know.” 

Immediately, the rage returned to my eyes, the months of dismissal I’d faced from him flooding back in a moment, and those emotions came to full light in that moment. my brows furrowed, my face turning sour. “Oh, I don’t know, Spencer?” I said, sneering at him. “Am I too young, too stupid, too inexperienced for you?” I question, sarcastically. “Am I so dumb, that I wasn’t aware of what I was doing when I stepped in front of you?!” I say, my voice practically yelling at him now. 

“Yes.” He whispered, dangerously close. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Yes. You weren’t aware.” He says, repeats, softer this time. “It’s the only way any of this makes sense. That.. that you were so unaware, so blinded that you weren’t thinking when you stepped in front of me.” He said, quietly, remaining just as close as before. 

“I wasn’t.” I said, firmly, my brows still furrowed but the tension slowly left my face, being replaced with a softness. 

“Why did you do it then?” He said, dropping his gaze as he began to focus more on the bandages. “I haven’t been very forthcoming with you since you’ve begun your time at the BAU.” 

“Ah, so you’ve noticed.” I said, trying to make humor of the situation, but it came out a bit more breathless and dry. I was aware of the intimacy of the situation, and it seemed my body was catching up. I could physically feel the way my cheeks were heating up, and how they were close enough that I could see every breath that exhaled from his lips. How, despite everything, I still desperately wanted to kiss him at that moment. 

I couldn’t be crazy, when he secured the bandages and slowly trailed his eyes over my figure, sitting in front of him. I saw the same desire I felt, reflected in his eyes, and I found myself biting my lip. What the fuck was going on?

“So why’d you do it?” He repeated, still looking at me. 

“It felt natural, I..” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain what I had felt in that split-second, but instead went with the simplest retelling my brain could manage, considering how close he was. “I didn’t want you to get hurt.” I said, looking at him. “I.. I care about you.” 

I felt stupidly vulnerable. His breath fanned over my face, and I bit my lip. I waited for him to say something, anything, staring anxiously at his face. 

“I’m a good profiler, you know.” He says, softly. 

I  chuckle a little at this, moving away so the tension can be relieved. “Trust me, I’m reminded of that every day.” I said, feeling like the distance between them was now more manageable, allowing me to talk.

But in a moment, he closed that distance to its predecessor, just as close as they were a moment ago. “You learn a lot about body language. Not just by learning to profile, but through years of experience. It just comes naturally, reading people. You can’t really turn it off. It’s like trying to forget how to breathe.” I hung onto his every word, and found my breath hitching when he directed his monologue to me. 

He gently inquires, “Do you understand?” 

I nod, looking up at him, as he inches closer. 

“So I hope you’ll understand and not take offense when I say I’ve been profiling you.” He pauses.  “Would you like to know what I’ve found out?” He says, looking right into my eyes at this point. 

My brain is screaming at me to say no, to not take the bait that he was dangling right in front of me, and to not cross that line tonight. Because, surely, that’s where this was going. I had a sneaking suspicion that the man in front of me was going to ruin me, if I let him. 

Instead, I ignore the instinct and intuition I normally rely on, and nod. “What did you find out, Dr Reid?” I responded, a bit shakier than I wanted to sound. 

“Your pupils dilate when I come near you. It’s an involuntary response, but I notice it every time. I’ve seen it in low and heavy lighting, the only commonality in both those situations being that we were in some proximity to each other.” His voice was low, and seductive, something I’d never heard from him before. 

“Your heart rate.” He murmurs, slowly picking up my wrist and pressing a thumb to the pulse point. “This isn’t exactly the best way to measure heart rate.” He explains, “My thumb. It carries its own pulse that can make it hard to distinguish between mine and yours. But right now, (Y/N)?” He mumbles. “I can tell. Because your pulse is going crazy right now. It’d be hard to miss.”  He said, with a low chuckle.

And he’s right, I can feel my heart getting faster with every second he speaks to me, in that hushed tone that seems to be driving me crazy. 

“It’s not just tonight. I’ve noticed it since the day you walked in.” He whispers, getting closer to my ear, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Since you brought that terrible coffee, actually.” 

I pulled back, letting out a noise that was both composed of surprise and amusement. “Oh come on, it was not that bad.” 

“It was, but I can tell you tried.” He said, a small smirk playing on his face. “It was cute.” He said, now taking the time to brush some hair out of my face. It all happened quickly, his gaze tender and soft, before he captured my lips in a swoon-worthy kiss, pressing himself against me. I quickly melted into the kiss, letting out a satisfied sigh as I gripped his forearm, before rising from the chair as he slowly guided me to my couch. I let out a nervous laugh as my knees hit the cushions, tumbling a bit as I fell onto the soft pillows. He immediately pulled back, breathless, looking at me worriedly. 

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He murmured softly, kissing me again, a bit more gentle so I could murmur a soft “no” against his lips. 

“Good.” He growled, positioning himself above me on the couch,  beginning to press hot kisses down my neck, eventually reaching my exposed sternum, and looking up at me through hooded lids for implicit consent to continue, to which I nodded, feverishly. 

“Please.” I whispered, hoarsely. 

He took no time in obliging my request, rising a bit to remove the fabric of my shirt in one, clean swoop and continuing his assault on my chest, leaving open-mouthed kissed, eventually switching to nips and playful bites, as he sucked marks into the swell of my breasts, leaving me letting out delighted sighs and soft moans, which only seemed to encourage him to go lower. I arched my back, screwing my eyes shut, until he felt him stop, and come back to my neck. 

He murmured against me, close to my ear. I could feel his lips slowly brush the sensitive skin between my ear and neck, barely giving me any real stimulation, but it was enough to drive me crazy anyway. 

“Keep your eyes open, baby.” He whispers. “I want to see every part of your pretty face when I do this.” He says, returning lower again, leaving little kisses everywhere he could possibly go with his lips. I opened my eyes on command, watching as he went lower and lower, before finding the button on my jeans, slowly undoing them with nimble fingers and moving them off  my legs. I could imagine them so vividly inside me, expertly guiding me to pleasure in a way that mine couldn’t. But right now, if I wasn’t fucked senseless by him right now, I’d just about lose my mind. 

“Spencer.” I whispered, breathlessly. “I need you.” I breathed out. “Please.” 

“You need me to do what?” He asked, smirking as he already began to undo his own belt. 

“Spencer.” I repeated, firmly, not wanting to say the words. 

“Say it.” He says, in a much more commanding tone. 

“Spencer..” I repeat, breathing out again. “Fuck. I need-” I waver on the words, biting my lip. “I need you to fuck me. Now.” 

His smirk turns into a grin of satisfaction and pride, capturing my lips in yet another passionate kiss. “Mm. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He says, cockily. I whined against his lips, tacitly begging him to just get on with it and he chuckles, moving off of my mouth. 

“Alright. I get it.” He says, moving his lips downwards again, his lips brushing against my underwear, as he began to remove that fabric as well. He nearly moaned when he saw just how wet I really was. It was a bit embarrassing, just from a few touches and words, but it was hard to care when I felt his tongue right on my core, beginning to lap at the hot flesh, reducing me to moans as I knotted my fingers into his hair, arching my back and bucking my hips to feel more of his ministrations. He seemed to understand, hooking his strong arms under my thighs, firmly planting me to the couch we were currently on, continuing. I could feel his moans against me, sending vibrations that only heightened my arousal in that moment. As if that was even possible. 

And then it was, because I heard him murmur against me.“You taste-” he paused, using his tongue to lap up more of my arousal. “So fucking good.” He finished, beginning to now harshly flick at my clit, which caused an entirely new slew of sensations. I recognized my end was fast approaching, and I tugged on his hair, unable to form the words as the white-hot pleasure overtook me quickly, he seemed to understand this without a word, nursing me through my orgasm as my thighs shook around him and he held my hips down. Even then, he didn’t stop, continuing to flick his tongue, lapping up my arousal until I had to physically push him away with a soft groan. “Spencer.. It’s too much.” Even then, he continued, reducing me to nothing but moans, and I heard him whisper. “Come on. One more. Please.” The words unintentionally caused a flutter in my stomach, and in record time I was being pushed towards my second orgasm in a matter of 5 minutes.

His mouth was clearly so much better at this than arguing. 

I felt him lap up the last bit of my arousal, looking up at me with a glistening chin, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it was the most erotic sight in the world at that moment. The man that had questioned me at every turn, now in between my legs. He gave a smirk, moving up and giving me a rough kiss, and I didn’t hesitate to moan in his mouth when I could taste myself on his tongue. He smiled as he broke the kiss, caressing my cheek with one of his hands. His thumb moved along the smooth expanse of my cheeks. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, gently, concern in his eyes. 

I couldn’t help but break out into a dazed smile, nodding, a thin cover of sheen over my body, where I was still breathing heavily. “Yeah. I’m good.” 

“Good.” He breathed out. “I’m not stopping.” 

“I don’t want you to stop,” was my response, his shirt coming off before I’d even finished my sentence. 

I watched in fascination as he undid his belt, the very sound of it filling me with anticipation and desire. I could feel myself getting more aroused by the second, despite my previous two orgasms. I wanted him, I wanted this so badly. 

I felt him position himself over me, and feeling the head of his arousal run through my folds. I let out a breathy groan, as I felt him push into me. He let out a moan of his own, shutting his eyes. “You feel.. So fucking good.” 

I whimpered slightly as my body adjusted to him and his size. He was so big, and I’d never felt full like this before. He noticed this and placed a gentle kiss against my lips, watching my face as it contorted in pleasure and pain. As the pain began to subside, I looked up at him nodding. 

“Move, please.” I begged, the desperation evident in my voice.

He took no time in obeying my request, beginning to slowly thrust in and out of me. I moaned, feeling his cock stretch me and fill me up in a way I had never been full before. A pleasant sensation bloomed through my lower abdomen, and I could feel him bury his head into my shoulder as he pushed into me, my walls clenching on his length with every movement he gave. He pressed wet kisses into my neck, and I moaned happily at the feeling. In an instant, I could feel him fucking me desperately, placing both of his hands on either side of my face. I could feel my jaw drop, and no sound came out. I was being hurdled towards my third orgasm of the night and it was all at the behest of the man in front of me, plowing into me like it was his job. 

I moaned loudly, my legs wrapping around his waist in an attempt to keep him buried in my deepest point, feeling my release creeping up on me. 

“Sp-Spencer..” I groaned, attempting to alert him of my impending orgasm, but he simply swooped down, kissing me roughly, which only caused me to moan into his mouth. 

“I know, baby.” He whispered, in a deliciously dark tone. “Come for me, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over my cock.” 

It took no more provocation from there, as I felt my hips buck up once more and my thighs shake. I came with a loud moan of his name, my free hand gripping onto him and leaving scratches I knew wouldn’t go away for a while. 

My release seemed to spur him on, the wetness allowing him to fuck into me harder. I watched the man above me lose all control, and it was beautiful. He grunted a bit, and I could feel his hips stutter, chasing after his orgasm. 

“Please, Spencer.” I begged. “Fill me up, I need to feel you come inside me.” I whispered. 

It didn’t take long after that, after a particularly hard thrust, a warmness filled me at my hilt and Spencer nearly collapsed over me. He gave me a kiss, murmuring into the skin of my neck. “So perfect, so fucking perfect for me.” 

I smiled at the praise, biting my lip. I let my hand traverse over his back, drawing figures into the warm skin. I looked at the man laying on my sternum, looking absolutely fucked out despite being the one to give me three orgasms tonight. “Perfect, you say?” I teased. 

He looked up at me, kissing my lips softly, before mumbling against them, “Mm. Perfect.” 

I had a sneaking suspicion the next time we were at work, and he’d have something to say about my work, (because he always did), it wouldn’t take long to have him whispering sweet nothings to me in an instant, just like he was now. At least I could do something right on the first try.

hi!! this is my first fanfiction i've written since i was literally in middle school. spoiler. far from middle school right now. leave a comment, reblog, like, whatever! i had fun writing this. my ask box should be open for more requests? if anyone would like. anyway! hope u enjoyed!! :3

[alrtyhoney]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS 

(I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness and I have to sit down for a while– the feeling that I'm losing her forever.)

The rundown: That cake scene with Miles at his father’s bodega party but it’s with Miguel and his universe’s daughter. He’s late and it’s your quinceañera. Content: Father!Miguel O'hara x Daughter!Reader / Angst! (wc: 3844)

There was something oddly peculiar about your father. People would assume that he would be the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child; the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. You’d argue it wasn’t true– you were fed, you had the weight of what a fifteen year old should have, and education was proper. 

You love your papa with all of your heart, but there was no denying the fact that he would never be around often enough. You understood this when you were eight years old, and mornings would bring only a cold breakfast accompanied by a hastily scribbled note from him. He’d leave early– far too early. You tried staying up in an attempt to tell when he gets up and leaves the house, but you swear you don’t hear the door open every time. 

Then came twelve and the missed events. Miguel seemed to be missing in action when it came to certain school activities, not showing up for things that he had previously made commitments for. It became more and more frequent as you grew older– you wouldn’t hear from him for days.

He was a man dedicated to his profession, and although you felt pride in what he had achieved, there was this empty space in your heart that hadn’t been filled ever since you were eight. It was said that a child needed the presence of their parents to feel security– to feel important. You never truly understood it, not until you had to endure many nights at dinner alone and the numerous times you spent walking home with nothing but your own thoughts for company.

You had always pondered over the question of whether it was a common phenomenon that fathers seemed to love their daughters less once they had reached teenagehood– or if it was possible for fathers to unlearn being fathers. 

“Is your papa coming, bebita?” 

The faint notes of classical music filled the air as you sat on the wooden floor, stretching your sore limbs. You observed the ladies who were much older than yourself starting their exercise routines, having come in early before the group class began. You waited for Miguel to pick you up. 

– But that had been two hours ago. Your teacher finally worked up the courage to approach you, hesitantly looking for the right words to say. She wasn’t exactly pleased to be the one to let you down, but she’d seen you walk out the studio’s door alone time and time again after you told her that your father would bring you home himself.

“He said he’d come pick me up today.” You spoke, nervously twisting the ends of your skirt. Your teacher had most likely heard these words countless times before from you, but the faint ray of hope in your voice remained firm. “He promised.” You added quietly, praying that maybe it would be different this time. 

“Ay, bebita– you know how this ends. You tell me those exact words and you walk out here on your own anyway.” She slightly shook her head, her face softening with a sympathetic smile as she knelt closer to you. “Tell you what, how about I offer to give you a ride home today? I have plenty of snacks in my car that you can enjoy. You can take as many of them as you'd like.”

You took some time to consider it, letting her gently weave her fingers through the strands of curls that couldn't quite fit into a bun. Your lips pursued as you sighed softly, “What if he comes and I’m not here anymore?” You’d hate to miss the opportunity.

Of course you still had faith that he would come, having endured all the other times he had let you down. You were never one to quickly give up on people and your father was the only one you trusted the most— you’d hate to admit that his inconsistency was starting to hurt; digging a deeper wound to the already bleeding cut. 

“He’s not coming and I know you know that too.” 

She stands up, grunting slightly as she hefts herself up. You knew there was no more room for negotiation anymore when she urged you to come along. She carefully takes your backpack from off your back and drapes it over her own shoulders, “Come on sweetheart, let's get you home.” 

The silence in the car was palpable, with no one feeling the need to prod conversation. You hadn't stopped fidgeting with the hem of your bag since you got in, and you could feel your teacher's worried glances burning into you. Your mind was a jumble of emotions that kept bubbling away as they all competed for your attention. What could be his reason this time/?

She switched on the radio in an effort to lighten the tense mood, but when a melancholic tune filled played instead, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.

“Is it possible for fathers to unlove their daughters?” 

It was a question that took her completely by surprise, so much so that another uncomfortable beat of silence passed before she could respond. The stillness made you regret asking in the first place. Your legs shifted nervously, an unconscious habit which you had never noticed before.

“Of course not,” She muttered, almost inaudibly. “Fathers tend to forget is all.”

But you knew that wasn’t the case. 

While Miguel was never home, something else resided on the corners of your house– someone you have never met at all. She smiled back at you from the frame sitting atop your dad's nightstand, wearing the similar blue soccer jersey your school had. She was the picture on his wallet and the little widget on his phone. It was beyond you– the few blue ribbons hidden on the box beneath his bed; the medals, the drawings you know you’ve never drawn or given him. For all you know, the kid didn’t even go to your school. 

It wasn’t anything sinister, but in a way she felt like a ghost. A child your father mourned for all his life and you had no idea why. 

This was a physical pain in your chest; one that was peeling away the very layers of your heart until it was nothing but ugly– just how could Miguel love a child more than his own? It was ridiculous to feel like you were in competition with someone you barely knew, yet somehow, you felt like you were losing. It felt even more absurd when you considered the possibility that maybe you weren't really his child at all.

“I joined our school’s soccer team today, papa.” 

It wasn’t an ordinary occurrence for Miguel to be at the dining table for lunch. But on this Saturday noon, he was there. Sitting across from you, quietly eating his food. Finally, he paused and shifted his gaze towards you, seeming to linger on you longer than normal before looking away, cracking a grin.

“Soccer? You hate sports, mija.” He says, a bit of laughter in his voice. "What made you decide to try out? I don't recall you being the least bit interested before."

Something in his eyes becomes brighter, a sense of familiarity as he eagerly awaits your response– and the thing is, you couldn’t tell him why. Not without addressing the elephant in the room. Maybe you’d hang my medals too? Maybe you’d frame a photo of me? You know well your question reminds him of someone else. 

“No reason.” 

It was no surprise that you were terrible at it. After barely two seasons, you'd already given up. However it was surprising to see Miguel in the stands during the times that you had a game, but there wasn’t much to watch anyway— not when you’d been relegated to the bench for most of the time. All you felt was shame. 

Oddly enough, he didn't question it. He remained silent during the rides back home, his gaze distant and never once looked at you. Had you embarrassed him to an extent where he couldn’t even acknowledge you? Or have you given him the impression that you were just no better than the little girl in his pictures?

You dared not to talk about it too.

Music was your passion; the pulse, the poise and elegance of it all resonating with you deeply. Ballet was something that spoke to you particularly in ways no other art form could. You found a special joy out on stage, a feeling that grew deeper and greater each time you danced.

But like every flame that you desperately try to keep alive, Miguel had a way of snuffing it out. 

You remember it all so vividly, even though you'd much rather the memory be nothing more than a faint blur. Your very first recital and yet he wasn't anywhere to be found amongst the audience.

Your focus was a tunnel-vision, only set to finding even a glimpse of him— you had been so determined to find him that you forgot about all of your own movements. Soon, the few wrong turns had turned to missed cues; as soon as the music stopped, you made a run for it.

Your teacher had done her best to console you that day, attempting to coax a smile from you in front of the vanity mirror with its bright lights. She had wrapped her arms around you, doing anything she could to draw even the faintest curve of your lips. But you stayed slumped on your seat, feeling the weight of the unshed tears on your eyes. 

The door swung open, finally revealing Miguel; he was out of breath and sweat glistened on his forehead. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top and his tie was undone, a clear sign that he had run all the way here. He paused for a moment to catch his breath before walking in frantically, eyes looking for you. 

His eyes softened at the sight of you in your pretty pink tutu– then the tenderness was replaced with a feeling akin to plummeting one hundred stories down. How could he miss this? How could he let his sweet girl wait? He rushed to your side, sinking down into a kneeling position. He looked upon you with lines creasing his forehead and you already knew what was to come out of his lips.

“I’m sorry muneca, I came as fast as I could.” 

The other parents of your classmates started to barge inside the very room, their children giddy with joy and excitement, running to them with beaming smiles. You could hear their loud congratulations– voices singing sweet praises and telling how they looked outstanding on stage. The noise sounded like static in your ears, like their words were unfamiliar to you. They received bouquets of flowers, sweets– gifts for a job well done. Miguel came late and only with apologies. 

“You want pretty flowers too, mijita? We can stop by the flower shop a few blocks away from here, you can pick any bouquet you want.” His lips curved into a gentle smile, desperate to make his daughter feel better– the same daughter who wouldn't even meet his gaze. “Papa had to deal with something. I’ll be sure to go to your next recital– pinky promise.” 

“But I worked really hard for this.”

You wanted so desperately to blame him; to yell at him for every mistake that you've made on the stage. You felt ashamed, humiliated, and helpless all at once- and still, you couldn’t have the heart to be mad at him.

He looked at you apologetically, "Baby, I'm sorry I couldn't make it earlier. How about we talk about the flowers you want to buy instead? There are lots of restaurants nearby as well— you can pick whatever pleases you, just name it." He paused for a moment before continuing, gently nudging your shoulder. “I know how much this meant to you.”

If he did, why couldn’t he have come at all?

You let out a deep sigh, feeling completely ridiculous in your tutu. All of the sudden, the leotard appeared to be two sizes too small and utterly irritating; your tights seemed unbearably itchy. You looked down helplessly, wanting nothing more than to leave this situation behind. “I just want to go home. Can we just leave? Please?” You pleaded softly. 

He bit the inside of his cheek, a gesture that conveyed own sinking heart in a way words could not. His shoulders sagged ever so slightly, breath hitching as he gave in to your request instead. 

“Of course.” 

After that very moment, you'd vowed to yourself never to wait in anticipation of something that may or may not come. You wouldn’t put your faith in any more of your father's promises spoken under the dead of night. It took a toll on you– your naivety had taught you better than before.

But when your fifteenth birthday drew near, you never expected he would go so far.

The locks clicked and whirred as Miguel fumbled with the keys to the front door. You could hear your Father's voice, clearly agitated as he jostled the keys back and forth in an attempt to fit them into the lock. Finally, he steps inside, eyes immediately darting to you.

“You’re not wearing your birthday dress, sweetie. Is something wrong?” He’s wearing a smile, struggling to keep the two boxes of cake upright as he locks the door from behind. The banner is lopsided and the balloons scattered all around seem small– like they’ve been there for days and were starting to deflate themselves. He kisses the top of your head once he gets close, getting a better view of what you were working on on the counter. Homework. “Did you have your friends over today? How was it? Wanna hear all about it.”

And he must have forgotten. You decided to pretend not to hear his question, continuing to jot down notes, only humming at his presence. He settles the boxes down, sitting on the stool beside you. 

“I know papa’s late, but you can still go and wear your dress. I want to take pictures– should we order pizza? Do you want something else?” He’s rambling, hurriedly searching for his tone to dial down a few numbers. Miguel turns frantic, looking at the closed signs under every nice restaurant. “Pizza should be fine, mijita– you’ve eaten dinner, right?” 

“Not hungry.” 

Miguel chuckled, dialing anyway. “Did school suck today, sweetie?” He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. “You know what can cheer you up? Cake. You love cake.”

“I don’t like cake anymore.” You say, your voice barely above a whisper. You can feel frustration boiling over inside– and you fear it wasn’t the kind you’ve grown accustomed to suppressing. He was oblivious and it was killing you, hurting you in so many ways possible. “I’m not hungry.” You repeat again.

“Don’t be like that, __. Besides, it’s still tradition.” He stands up to check the drawers, only finding worn out candles from past birthdays. He takes a lighter. “Know what’s better than a cake? Two cakes! You’ll change your mind, go and open the boxes mija,”

Miguel excitedly pressed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you gently forward to open the two boxes of cake. The look in his eyes was that of pure anticipation as he waited eagerly for you to do so. It almost hurt you to tell him the news— that you wanted more than to just take the blame itself. It was conflicting. 

You finally got up from the bar stool, settling on your feet in front of the counter. Taking a deep breath, you carefully opened the lid of the boxes. What greeted you had made you visibly recoil– the small flicker of hope that settled in your chest gone as quickly as it came. The cakes were crumbled and the frosting was all over the box, like it had been trampled and tossed around.

Was this all a joke? Were you a joke to him? Your shoulders trembled as you couldn't bring yourself to look away from it; the letter was still visible but amongst the cake crumbs lay written a name– Gabriella. Not happy birthday to you, but Gabi. 

You didn’t know what hurt most. Your lips quivered and all you could mutter was, “Gabi?”

His eyes widened in surprise as he quickly moved to your side to take a look at the cake himself. He swiftly closed the lids, shaking his head. “Must’ve been a mistake back at the bakery. I can–” 

And you could barely catch your breath, not when the hurt piled over one another. 

“Are the medals from her? The one’s from your bed? The trophies?” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, clearly irritated. “What did I tell you about snooping around my things, __?”

“Is this the girl–” A ragged inhale cuts your thoughts, “on your nightstand and wallet?” You didn’t even realize you had started to cry, but when another breath had caught itself in your throat, you were inconsolable– finally letting the dam break all at once.

Miguel did nothing to console you– he didn’t know how to. He knew he had messed up royally and all he could do was helplessly watch you break down. Who knows how long you’ve kept this? 

“__, come on. It’s just a simple mistake, it’s still cake–”

“And it was my birthday!” 

“Baby, what’s the big deal?” He was shocked and understandably so. His sweet, babygirl, who was usually so quiet and docile, was talking back angrily to him– but Miguel knew better than to point fingers. This was his fault– your unbecoming was his own doing.

“You just had to be late– on my birthday!” 

“I have work, baby, you know this.” 

“That still doesn’t explain anything!” You cried out, desperation flooding your voice. “Why are you never home? Where do you go? Who is Gabriella– why do you love her more than me?” You could feel your breath catch in your throat as your voice rose and trembled with every question. Your breathing grew unsteady and your throat began to close up, not allowing anymore words to come out as much as you wanted to scream. You feared there’d be no more room for air.

And there was something about Gabriella that everytime she was brought up, Miguel would be defensive. Perhaps it was the plenty of times Lyla would reprimand him when she catches him watching the few videos of them or when Jess would pity his state. “Don’t be ridiculous, __. I made a mistake– that’s it. We don’t have to fight.” He says, grabbing a spatula. “If it bothers you so much, here,”

Miguel frustratedly spreads the lettering with the spatula, leaving smudges of red on top of perfectly white frosting, resulting in a more muddled mess. He's making a complete mess of it and you can't bear to watch any longer. Your still figure finally reaches out to grab his wrist, “Stop— stop that! What are you doing?!”  

It was no use. The cake was nothing but totally ruined now. You didn’t even have the chance to read the message. He forcefully digs the candles on both, sliding it in front of you. Your eyes stayed on the cake– you didn’t have the heart to look at him. Anger boiled up within you and without a moment's hesitation, the words leaped from your mouth, "You're not listening to me! This is not what I'm so upset about—!"

But he responds in the same loudness as yours, slamming his hands down on the cold tiles of your countertop. “Okay, champ, you got it– go for it! Say what you have to say,” A sarcastic chuckle left his lips, adding insult to the already deep wound. “What do you have to tell me so bad?”

And you didn’t think it was possible for silence to be more deafening, but as you stared each other down, all you could think of was how maybe Miguel was worse than the archetypal absent one who chose to abandon his child or the dead-beat-dad who ultimately never cared for them. 

You were right. Fathers were capable of unloving their daughters and the way his dark eyes burned into yours was all the answer you needed. This wasn’t your papa– did you ever know him?

“My birthday was two days ago.” 

He furrowed his eyebrows, doubt creasing his forehead as he looked back to the calendar hung on the fridge. His gaze resting on your birthday date, the red circle mocking him in vivid reminder— two days ago. Your birthday was two days ago. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks, and he felt nothing but guilt tying his stomach in knots. 

“Mijita–” He’s quick to console you, the anger in his words disappearing immediately and turning into an apologetic one– but every time he’d try to move forward, you’d only step back. Miguel couldn’t even bear to think how you’ve celebrated on your own. How you waited for him all night in your birthday dress. He subtly shook his head, trying his best not to clog his mind yet. 

He needed to make it up to you. He couldn’t lose you too.

“My birthday– why did you have to take it?” You rubbed your eyes harshly, but the more you wiped the tears away, the more they seemed to fall. “It’s mine and I still had to wait for you to be able to sing the song. It’s my day and all I could think of was what time you might come home tonight.”

You wanted nothing more than for him to run to you with open arms, to let you cry on his shoulders– but as his silence stretched on, you mistook it as nothing but ruthless. He simply didn’t care. Miguel was too much of a wall for that. 

The look you gave him was nothing but hate– a look no parent wants to ever come across and it almost makes him stagger back. It was like what he had done was the most disgusting– most inconsolable act ever beyond repair and all he could do was watch; watch as another daughter of his slip through his fingers. He’s holding you like water and he doesn’t know how to keep you in.

You scoffed, averting your gaze. “You don’t want to talk about it? Fine by me.” You turned your back, letting out another shaky exhale. You couldn’t look at him the same– not after this.

“You make it really, really, hard to feel like a daughter.” 

And with that, you run to your room, leaving Miguel to stay rooted to where he stood. He thinks to himself– had he taken that from you too?

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Ravel

A Seams Christmas special oneshot | Moodboard

{ Part IV: Notch | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: Joel swings by yours with a little something before Christmas dinner at Tommy and Maria's.

Warnings: Unapologetic fluff and softness, inspired by this ask from @casssiopeia from the beginning of the year, no use of Y/N, very lightly edited

Word count: 2k

Notes: I'm so proud of writing up this little drabble. I've been in such a weird place with my writing, I'm just happy to end the year on a creative high. Obviously, I'm a few days late to Christmas, but better late than never!

There is a voice in my head telling me that this isn't good enough, that it doesn't hold up to what I was writing earlier this year. But I need to rewire my brain. There is no such thing as 'good' or 'bad' when it comes to fanfiction. All fanfiction is good fanfiction. This is our hobby, not our jobs, and we need to be kind to ourselves.

I am posting this at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve. Happy new year y'all, I hope Joel and Pin can bring you some festive cheer ❤️

Joel is this close to have a fucking breakdown.

He would measure out how close this is between his thumb and index finger if they were not currently tangled in webs of yarn, rapidly unravelling from from the bottom of what is supposed to be a sweater.

Your sweater.

The book that Lucy lent him months ago lies on the table before him, the pages yellowed and dogeared, open at the the easiest pattern of the lot to knit - a simple pullover in chunky yarn, in your favourite colour.

Well, it was supposed to be easy, anyway.

Despite Lucy basically holding his hand throughout the whole project, he’s had far less time than anticipated to work on it. Too many nights he finds himself at Tommy and Maria’s, elbow deep in dirty baby’s clothes and diapers, making himself useful for whatever needs to be done around the house. 

Even Ellie chips in without being asked, often bringing back food from the canteen and making sure the severely sleep-deprived adults are eating, if not well fed. Joel honestly doesn’t remember how he did it with Sarah as a clueless twenty-something, with an even more clueless younger brother.

As he attempts to free himself from the quagmire of wool, he grimaces at the stiffness all over his body, feeling it especially in his back after sleeping in an armchair all night with a rapidly growing two-month old.

He’s too old for this shit - but there’s no saying no to the little rascal with Tommy’s nose and Maria’s eyes.

The knitting needles clatter to the floor when he jumps at the front door opening and slamming shut, a frustrated fuuuuuuck slipping past his gritted teeth. 

Ellie’s voice rings out loud and clear as she scampers up the stairs, getting progressively louder until she’s outside his study. ‘Hey! Did you remember to put the potatoes in the oven? We have to leave for Tommy’s in an hour - dude, what the fuck is happening?’

‘What do you think is happenin’?’ he growls.

Crossing her arms, Ellie leans against the doorframe wearing a far too amused expression. ‘Maria said no gifts.’

Joel rolls his eyes. ‘It’s not for Maria.’

The teenager squints, perplexed, at the bits of wool in his hands. ‘What is that meant to be?’

‘... A sweater.’

Ellie bites her bottom lip, holding in a poorly concealed giggle. ‘I think a sweater is meant to have sleeves.’

‘You think?’

‘Want me to go get Lucy?’

With a heavy sigh, he mutters, ‘Fine.’

At the arch of her half-eyebrow, Joel adds begrudgingly, ‘Please.’

Ellie grins, sneakers skidding on the floorboards as she takes off. ‘Hang in there, old man!’

Despite the cold, his palms are sweaty, sticking to the kraft paper wrapped haphazardly around the even more haphazard package clutched tightly in his right hand. 

The night air mists before him in puffs of white as he shuffles a path through the falling snow. His ears are tingling from the cold, and flexing the stiff, frozen tips of his fingers, Joel knows he should’ve worn his gloves. They weren’t in their usual place by the door though, and he was so frazzled that he barely got his shoes tied up before dashing out the door, sending Ellie ahead with the potatoes (that are definitely undercooked) to his brother’s.

Your cottage glows yellow and orange in the darkness, and your stairs no longer creak when he trudges up them, having fixed them just in time before the first snowfall.

He hears your footsteps come from deep within this house when he knocks. Your eyes are wide when your door cracks open tentatively, but then your lips curve into a smile - the smile that he takes with him and keeps him warm when he has to leave Jackson for days-long patrols.

‘What are you doing here?’ you ask, ushering him inside, not batting an eye at the snow he tracks inside. ‘I thought we were meeting at Maria’s.’

Pressing a kiss to your lips, he softens at the way you lift your face towards him to catch it, careful to keep the parcel out of sight behind his back. ‘Yeah, we were, but thought I’d see if you need a hand with anythin’.’

‘Such a gentleman,’ you tease. 

A low fire burns in the hearth, the wood he chopped for you in the fall stacked in a tidy pile next to the mantelpiece. Sweeping his eyes across the living space, he spots the book with the cracked spine that he reads when he’s here on the coffee table, next to yours. On the other side of the couch is the Christmas tree that he cut for you, and he watched you dress it up in tinsel and fairylights one night after a quiet dinner and before hot cocoa under thick blankets.

He likes seeing himself at your home. In the things he does for you; in his things, casually scattered around - like they belong in your space.

‘The pies are in the kitchen, could you please put them in a bag?’ you ask. ‘I’ll just grab my coat and we can go.’

‘Sure, sweetheart,’ he answers, waiting until you’ve disappeared into the bedroom before setting down the present under the tree.

He’s leaning against the back of the couch when you pop back in, a few layers deeper than when you left him, the pies nestled safely in a carrier bag by his boots. 

‘Shall we?’ you ask brightly.

Joel hesitates, wondering if he should wait until after dinner to tell you about the present. It only takes his eyes darting to the foot of the tree for the briefest moment for you to catch on. The slow smile that stretches your cheeks and lights up your eyes warms him from the inside out.

You cock your head to one side, playing coy. ‘What’s that, Joel?’

He shrugs, feigning cool. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and find out?’

His chest physically swells at the way you dash towards the tree, landing on your knees in uncharacteristic recklessness, the impact only softened by the rug underneath. You cradle the lumpy package to your chest like something precious. ‘You got me a present.’

He settles on the end of the couch next to you, his heart beating harder in his ribcage than he’d like to admit. ‘Don’t get your hopes up, sweetheart.’

You frown at him. ‘Why?’

‘You’ll see, but I wanted to give it to you anyway.’

You open the package carefully, as if it was wrapped in the fancy paper people used to buy at the shop. Joel holds his breath when you peel it away to reveal what’s inside.

He’s far too inside his own head to hear your inhale that sounds a lot like wonder. You pick up the sweater gently, shaking it out, and Joel winces when he sees it in the flicker of the firelight.

Disastrous doesn’t begin to cover it. Lucy managed to connect the sleeves to the shapeless body in a last-ditch salvage attempt, but one is clearly longer than the other. The stitches are untidy, some have obviously caught onto something and pulled loose. Rough around the edges is putting it kindly.

Joel wants to reach out, grab it, chuck it into the fire and let the flames swallow it whole.

Finally, the silence gets the better of him, and he blurts out. ‘I’m sorry.’

You stare at him, stunned. ‘What?’

Under his whiskers, his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and he rambles, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinkin’. You deserve better sweetheart, here, let me -’

You almost lose your balance keeping the sweater out of his reach. ‘Don’t you dare, Joel Miller.’

Confused, he watches you rise to your feet, shucking your outer coat and another layer. ‘What are you doin’?’

Grabbing the sweater, you slide it over your head and thread your arms through the sleeves. The soft knit drapes over your curves, too big over your shoulders and the hem falling unevenly, higher on the right side than the left. One sleeve is long enough to cover half your hand, while the other sits right on the wrist.

And yet. 

You’re beaming like you just picked up something at Bloomin’dales or whatever the fuck those department stores were called back then. 

‘I love it,’ you declare, no trace of irony in your voice, as hard as he’s trying to find it.

He scoffs in disbelief. ‘C’mon, sweetheart, you’re just sayin’ it -’

You surprise him, grabbing him by the scruff of his collar and dragging him towards you to plant a firm kiss on his lips. 

‘I love it,’ you repeat slowly, with conviction, as if willing him to believe you. ‘Thank you.’

He doesn’t quite still, but he smiles and kisses you back. ‘Merry Christmas, sweetheart.’

‘Since we’re doing this -’ you trail off, sliding out of his grip to reach around the back of the tree, pulling out a neatly wrapped gift. ‘This is for you.’

Joel pauses. 

For him.

For the longest time, nothing had been for him unless it was soul-crushing grief and pain.

And yet here it is - his name on the tag written in your neat handwriting. Something he can hold in his hands. For him.

His fingers tremble when he reaches out. The package is soft, and the paper crackles under his grip. He all but tears it open, uncaring of the way the wrapping falls to the floor.

A laugh bubbles out of his throat, and you look relieved at his reaction. ‘You like it?’

It’s not quite a Santa hat. It’s a chunky dark red beanie with a white brim folded back, and topped with a white pompom. 

‘My ears were so cold walkin’ over. It’s perfect,’ he says, pulling it over the crown of his head. Of course, it fits just right, sliding soft and warm over his ears. He adds with a wink, ‘Y’know what, I might just shimmy down some chimneys after dinner.’

‘As long as you shimmy down mine too,’ you retort, not hearing the euphemism.

Joel quirks an eyebrow at that, one large palm squeezing your backside through the layers. ‘That an open invitation, sweetheart?’

You duck your head, more out of habit than actual shyness, with mischief in your smile. ‘Don’t be so crude, Joel Miller.’

Adjusting his new hat so that it sits comfortably, he points at the pompom and jokes, ‘Shame I can’t wear this on patrols.’

Right on cue, you hold up a finger. ‘Funny you should say that.’

He chuckles when you pull out a second, plain black beanie, as if out of thin air. ‘You really thought of everythin’, sweetheart.’

You shrug playfully. ‘I’m smart like that.’

‘I know you are,’ he smiles.

‘Merry Christmas, Joel.’

His lips find yours again in a slow, lingering kiss that has you leaning into him for more when he pulls back. ‘Thank you. For everythin’.’

You hold his gaze - heavy with meaning, light with joy. It wouldn’t take more than a tilt of the head towards the bedroom to derail your evening plans, and you both know it.

In the end, you’re the one who stays strong. Taking one step back from his warmth, you reach for your coat. ‘We’re late, we should go.’

His eyes widen. ‘Wait - you’re not wearin’ that to dinner are you?’

‘Of course I am,’ you say, buttoning up your coat over the sweater.

‘You don’t have to, sweetheart,’ he almost pleads with you.

You grin, heading for the door, blowing out candles as you go. ‘Too bad, I’m never taking it off.’

Joel shakes his head with a wry huff. ‘Well, I hope not never -’

You have one foot out the door when you suddenly remember. ‘I almost forgot - you left your gloves here last time. They’re in the cupboard by the door.’

Ah, that’s where they went. He opens the drawer and pulls them on, one after the other, the leather, worn smooth with age, creaking as he wraps his fingers around the handles of the carrier bag.

Joel is about to follow you out the door when he pauses over the threshold. Glancing down at the black beanie in his grasp, he reaches up and hooks it on the coat rack, nestled among your clothes.

He hopes that when the time comes for him to wear it for the first time - maybe on a patrol that will take him away from you for a few days - it will smell like you.

Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics ❄️

More notes: I hope I will return to the main series in the new year. I've missed these two lovebirds, I hope you enjoyed this little interlude! ❤️

[lovesickonmybed]

to hands between legs | 18+

masterlist | xo masterlist | info about palestine | donate to gaza

pairing | bully!ellie williams x loser!virgin!reader

synopsis | ellie williams made your high school experience a living hell, but once you got to college you thought you were finally free…until running into her at a frat party where she humiliates you just like it’s high school all over again.

warnings | 18+ MDNI! bullying, wedgies, dub-con, underage drinking, panty kink, degradation, humiliation, fingering, virgin reader, mommy kink.

word count | 4.4k

a/n | if wedgie kinks make you uncomfortable or seem cringe to you then please keep scrolling and let me indulge in my weird little kinks thank you! also i dropped out of college so if any of this is inaccurate i'm sorry!! i urge you to not buy any of the last of us games, including the remaster as the creator, neil druckmann is a zionist. the second game is based off of the israeli occupation in palestine and you can learn more about that here.

“Dude you are not wearing those to the party tonight!” Your roommate Seline scoffs looking you up and down as you stand in your underwear looking through your clothes in an attempt to find something semi-decent for your first party of the year. You’ve got on a plain white bra and a pair of white hanes panties that sit high up on your waist. 

You turn back to look at her with an annoyed sneer on your face, “They’re called underwear for a reason, they’ll be under my clothes, where no one can see them. I doubt it’ll make a difference, I’m not exactly trying to get laid tonight, especially not by any of those guys.”

“Wearing granny panties at any time besides your time of the month is just…wrong! There’s no way those are comfortable, like seriously I see you pick your wedgie like 20 times a day, just grow up and switch to thongs already.” Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment and you slip on a black skort that stops at your mid thigh before turning back to face your roommate. 

“I do not pick that many wedgies, stop being so dramatic! A thong would just be worse, I don’t want a string up my ass all day…” You retort.

“So instead of a string you want that itchy fabric to bunch up and give you a cottontail? Got it…this is why you haven’t gotten laid yet…” Seline says, side eyeing you.

“I really don’t need this right now, I’m wearing my comfortable and reliable panties and you can have fun telling a frat guy to stop pulling on your thong strings when he’s had too much to drink.”

“My thong is getting taken off by a frat guy tonight, not pulled up, honey. Now hurry up and get dressed so we can go, maybe if you pick the right top someone can look past your choice in underwear,” Seline chuckles.

You roll your eyes playfully and decide on a cropped white tank top, you slip on a pair of black heeled boots and a light wash denim jacket to finish off the look. You want to look alright just in case, you haven’t had the best luck romantically and definitely not sexually since arriving at school. You’ve made out with a few girls at parties but due to your own nerves you haven’t done anything past feeling them up and trying to not cum immediately when their hand is on your thigh. You swear you got more action from your high school bully…

“Come on, if you make me even later than we already are then I’m gonna lose it!” Your roommate commands as you grab your bag from off your bed. You’re not exactly the party type and you sure as hell weren’t in high school, then again you never got a chance to go to parties in high school thanks to Ellie fucking Williams for making you a pariah. You still have no clue what you did to the girl for her to target you as viciously as you did, you barely knew her…maybe she wanted to establish dominance when she arrived in Jackson, sure being the new kid can be tough but it doesn’t exactly call for you to make someone miserable everyday of their life. It started with a shoulder check in the hallway and escalated to you having to budget out having to replace panties on an almost weekly basis due to the waistband ripping wedgies Ellie loved to dish out. 

College was a fresh start for you, a way to escape your past as ‘Wedgie Girl’ and to finally make some friends…but thanks to your busy class schedule and your social awkwardness it’s proven harder than you expected. Your roommate Seline was kind enough to introduce you to some of her friends and you’re pleading with whatever forces are out in the universe that some of them will be there tonight to hang with you when your roommate abandons you for some dick from a sweet, but ultimately brainless frat boy. 

“Do you know if anyone we know is gonna be at the party?” You ask Seline, nervously playing with the hem of your skirt as you both walk the path to the nearby frat house. 

“Uh, I think Taylor mentioned she might be there…I’m not sure when though. But hey, if she’s not I’m sure you’ll find someone to spend your night with if I disappear,” She smiles, nudging your arm with her shoulder playfully. 

“More like when you disappear…”

“Hey! I don’t always disappear!” Seline scoffs.

“If there’s dick from a himbo you do,” you retort.

“Can you blame me? They’re always the sweetest in and out of bed, I can’t help that I like a dumb guy who will actually take care of me after we fuck instead of some asshole who’ll just take my panties after!” On multiple occasions freshman year Seline had some of her favorite pairs stolen by business majors, it was truly unfortunate. 

“Dude I swear to god I’m on a mission to get your panties back tonight, you know I love stealing shit from frat guys. I’m gonna steal your panties back,” you joke to Seline.

“I don’t want them back, they’re probably crusted with cum by now!” Seline laughs.

“Oh my god! Why would you put that image in my head, jesus christ!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Seline is out of breath as she apologizes. 

You reach the lawn of the frat house and you and Seline look at one another.

“If you plan to hookup with someone and stay at their place, text me and share your location, deal?” You say to Seline, making sure to establish a plan for tonight.

“Deal. Same goes for you, babe,” she smirks.

“We both know I won’t be hooking up with anyone but the optimism is appreciated, Seline.”

Seline laughs and throws her arm around your waist as you walk into the party, music playing loudly, the house filled with college students with drinks in their hands. 

You comb the crowd to look for anyone you may recognize but you’re unsuccessful, you frown and pull yourself closer to Seline for comfort. You cup her ear, “I don’t see Taylor yet.” 

“Let me text her and see when she’ll be here,” Seline responds as she pulls out her phone and pulls up Taylor’s contact, she shoots her a text and while she waits on a response y’all go into the kitchen to find something to drink. 

You separate from Seline and look around at all your options, you decide to just grab a Whiteclaw, ignoring how douchey it makes you feel to be seen drinking one. You crack it open and take a sip as Seline pours herself a shot. You lean against the counter as people come up to greet Seline, you feel out of place at this party but you try to ignore the feeling and take another sip.

“Hey, is it okay if I go with them?” Seline motions to the two girls standing where she just was, “I don’t want to leave you alone but we’ve been meaning to catch up for awhile y’know?”

You sigh and bite the inside of your cheek, “Yeah…it’s okay. Go catch up,” you give her a fake smile and in response she gives you a real one.

“I appreciate it, I’m sorry. If you need anything just text me, okay?” 

“Got it. Go have fun for me,” you smile.

Seline gives you a quick hug and turns to the other girls, walking off to the backyard together.

You stay where you are in the kitchen, bobbing your head to the music and mostly aimlessly scrolling on your phone when people watching gets boring. You’re broken out of your trance by a familiar laugh, “Holy shit…you actually made it out of Jackson? I’m shocked, truly.” Even if you hadn’t looked up you’d know exactly who was talking to you. Standing in front of you, a beer in hand, is Ellie Williams. 

You gasp softly and take a long swig from your drink, “I-You-”

“I didn’t know you went here, how’d you even get in?” Ellie asks, taking a step towards you. You can smell the woodsy cologne that’s been her signature scent since high school, she’s wearing a dark green flannel over a black tank top and a pair of black jeans. 

“I-I’m smart…I guess…” You manage to say. You regret it instantly, face heating up when you realize how stupid you sound. 

“Mhm, yeah of course…” She steps closer to you, setting her hand next to your hip on your counter, trapping you slightly as she gets in your personal space, “You know,” she chuckles, “Your roommate is a real dick for letting you leave the dorm like this…”

“What? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You ask, instantly regressing back to the insecure high schooler you were just two years ago.

Ellie smirks, wetting her lips with her tongue, “Nothing, I’m just fucking with you, loser. You’re just as easy to mess with as you were in highschool…” 

You look down, avoiding eye contact, and shrink into yourself, “Why…why are you doing this? We’re not in highschool anymore, Ellie. I mean…who even bullies people in college?”

Ellie doesn’t appreciate your attempt to stand up for yourself, “Someone who sees a loser in desperate need of help…you still wear granny panties?” She bites her lip as she watches your face contort into an embarrassed look.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about…” You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to self soothe. 

Ellie pauses for a minute, turning around to scope out the house. She grabs your wrist and starts to pull you along with her.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!” You yell, trying to tug your wrist out of her grip, it’s a futile attempt as she’s always been much stronger than you. 

“Shut up,” Ellie commands, continuing to pull you along with her to the upstairs of the house. The partygoers hanging out on the staircase pay you no mind, continuing their conversations without a care in the world. Ellie pulls you down a hallway, opening one of the doors and pushing you inside, causing you to fall to your knees. Ellie locks the door as you scramble to your feet, mostly out of fear of what substances could be on this carpet.

Ellie turns around to face you, “Take your skirt off.”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What?”

“Are you stupid? Take your goddamn skirt off,” Ellie sneers.

“What? Why? I-I’m not taking off my skirt for you! And I’m not wearing granny panties!” 

“Then lift up your skirt and prove it. You’ve got a little cottontail poking out of the back of your skirt by the way…nice hanes,” She laughs and pushes you back, causing you to stumble.

“You’re a sadistic bitch!” You exclaim, backing up away from her.

Ellie walks towards you, backing you against a wall, “I think you meant sexy, but that’s alright sweetheart I still understand you.” Ellie grabs you by your shoulders and spins you around, using her arm to pin you against the wall, your face feeling squished against the plaster. She grabs the bottom of your skirt and pulls it up, groaning in disappointment when she realizes you’re wearing a skort. “Fuckin prude,” she mutters before grabbing the waistband of your skort and yanking it down, exposing your white hanes to her.

“Hey! What the fuc-” 

Ellie cuts you off, “Sorry did I tell you to speak?”

“N-No but-”

Ellie cuts you off again by grabbing you by the back of your head and shoving your face even harder against the wall, causing you to whine in pain. “You speak when I tell you to speak, until then shut your goddamn mouth before I gag you.” Ellie slaps your ass and chuckles when you yelp. “Do you still want to stand here and deny that this borderline geriatric pair of panties are granny panties? Huh? I mean, this sure as shit ain’t a thong, but if you’re really so deep in denial I guess I could be generous and turn it into one for you, honey.”

Before you can even think about protesting Ellie grabs your waistband and pulls it up teasingly slow, your eyes go wide as you’re transported back to highschool by the feeling of the cotton fabric sliding against your skin and situating itself between your cheeks. As the fabric begins to sink into your folds you’re transported back to a memory of Ellie giving you a wedgie in the locker room during senior year.

“Shut up and take it, loser! It’s your fault for pissing me off today!” Ellie whisper-yelled as she pulled the front of your panties violently, tears welled up in your eyes as the baby pink fabric was forced into the folds of your cunt.

“Stop! Come on, you really don’t have to do thi-”

Ellie cuts you off with another harsh tug of your panties, your mouth falls open as a sharp pain shoots up your ass. You try to reach back and tug your waistband away from Ellie but she’s quick to pin your wrists against your back, using her body weight to help pin you against the wall. “Don’t you fucking dare! You’re so goddamn defiant, I miss the helpless loser you were in highschool, this was so much easier back then. You knew how to shut up and take it.”

Ellie shoves her leg between your thighs and lets go of your waistband, she uses her now free hand to remove her belt and restrain your wrists with it. “There. Now you have no choice but to take it,” she laughs. You try to squirm out of her grasp but with her thigh pressed against your cunt all it does is make your face heat up and make you hold back a moan of pleasure. Ellie continues to hold you against the wall as she grabs your waistband again, “Ready for me, wedgie girl?” Ellie smirks as she starts to pull your waistband again, pulling harder than before, almost lifting you off the ground with her first pull.

You choke on nothing as she uses your old nickname, feeling you with even more shame as your brain floods with countless memories of your public humiliation at her hands. Your eyes screw shut as you feel the threads snapping against your skin, the painful friction against your most sensitive parts sends pained moans from your lips. 

“P-Please…h-hurts so bad,” you whimper, tears forming in your eyes as you rest your forehead against the wall.

“It’s supposed to, dumbass. I bet you like it though, don’t you? It’s the most attention your little virgin cunt has ever gotten, huh?” Ellie snickers. 

“I-I’m not a virgin!” You reply.

“Bullshit. I doubt you’ve even had an orgasm…poor thing, bet your poor little pussy just leaks from the slightest attention…I could breathe on it and you’d cum. It’s a miracle you haven’t cum yet, I’m pratically fucking you with these,” Ellie pulls harder, getting you onto your toes to emphasize her point. Ellie giggles, “You know what, you’re not a virgin I’ve already fucked you with your panties.”

You mewl with embarrassment which sends Ellie into a fit of laughter, once she calms herself she lets go of your waistband. You sigh in relief as you think she’ll let you go but once you feel her grasp on your leg holes your eyes go wide. You’re not getting off that easy. 

“You know what, let me rip these and I’ll give you a pity orgasm, how does that sound, loser?”

“No, come on! Ellie don’t rip these!” You plead.

“Oh come on, nerd. I’ve already stretched them out, they’re unwearable, just let me have my fun,” Ellie begins to lift you by the leg holes of your panties. You cry out in pain, your legs kicking out of instinct as you feel the fabric of your panties pulled back and through your cunt, the fabric scraping against your cunt in such a way that causes you to begin to cry.

“Can’t believe you’re already crying, you went fucking soft on me, nerd. Guess I gotta do this everyday and build your tolerance back up,” she says in a patronizing tone. 

“No, no, no, please…Ellie…” Your breath is ragged as she continues to split your ass with your panties, showing no mercy as she bounces you, the sound of threads ripping fills the room.

“Oh come on, baby, you can take it. Don’t tap out now, you’re so close,” Ellie coos, snaking one of her hands around to grab the front of your panties and begins pulling from the front too. You scream in pain and she lets go and begins to scold you, “Shut the fuck up! Are you trying to get caught? You want everyone to see you getting fucked with your panties?” 

You sniffle, “N-No…”

“Then shut. the. fuck. up. and take it. Got it, slut?” She questions.

“Got it…”

Ellie resumes and you bite your lip to hold back your pained noises as she bounces you by the front and back of your panties, making you feel like you’re being split in half. You can’t remember the last time you were in this much pain and you hate how soaked it gets you, a wide wet patch is very visible in the gusset of your panties. It doesn’t take many more pulls for the panties to finally rip, you moan loudly in pain and pleasure as you feel the fabric rip against your cunt. Ellie is quick to grab you by your waist, old hand holding the ripped pair of panties as she helps you to the floor. You sit against the wall and catch your breath, looking up at Ellie completely wrecked. Your mascara is smudged beneath your eyes and you have red marks on your hips. 

Ellie squats down to your level, “You okay?” She asks softly, reaching towards you to trace the marks on your hips. Her gentleness confuses you, when she bullied you in high school she would’ve just let you fall to the floor and leave you to deal with the aftermath.

“I-I think so…” You mumble.

She reaches up and cups your cheek, “Can I finger you?” She looks down at your red puffy cunt, licking her lips as she imagines you mewling for her as she stuffs your cunt. 

“I…No one has ever…y’know…touched me like that before…” You explain shamefully.

“I wanna make you cum, loser. Wanna feel your cunt clench around my fingers.”

You look up at Ellie with glassy eyes, whining at the thought, “Why?”

Ellie looks down, her cheeks turning red, “Because I think you’re hot…and I’ve been wanting this for years…”

“You have?” You ask, brows furrowed as you scan her face for any hint of a lie.

“Yeah…I…I like how you sound when I torture your pretty pussy, wanna make it feel good this time, wanna reward you for how you took that wedgie.”

You think it over for a minute before you nod, “I want your fingers inside of me, please.”

“You want it on the bed, baby girl?” She asks, nodding her head towards the bed of whatever poor boys room you two have only just begun to desecrate. 

“Yeah. Can you untie me too please,” you ask softly, lifting your restrained hands behind your back.

“Oh shit, I forgot I even did that. Let me get that off you,” Ellie helps turn you around and removes the belt restraining your hands and slips it back onto her jeans. She takes your wrists in her hands to check for marks, “They should only be a little sore…I’d wear long sleeves till the marks go away unless you feel like coming up with a story about how they got like that.”

You nod and let her help you onto the bed, you wince in pain as you sit on the bed, the soreness in your ass already kicking in.

Ellie tilts her head and leans towards you, looking down at your lips, “Can I kiss you?”

You nod, wetting your lips with your tongue. She leans in and presses her lips to yours, kissing you softer than you could’ve ever imagined from her. There’s a masochistic part of you that had always had a crush on Ellie, you had dreams of her fingering you, eating you out, hell even taking you on dates. But you had never imagined she’d really kiss you, especially not like this. You kiss her back and are quick to deepen the kiss, Ellie smirks against your lips at your eagerness and pulls you into her lap, spreading your legs and cupping your cunt. She uses you gasping at the sudden contact to slip her tongue into your mouth and you moan into her mouth once she starts to massage your clit. Your body feels like it’s on fire and you beg the universe to not let you cum before she can even get her fingers inside of you. 

She pulls away from your lips, a trail of saliva still connecting them as she moves her mouth down to your neck. She presses a kiss below your ear and whispers, “Gonna take off your shirt baby, wanna suck those pretty tits.”

That alone is enough to make you grip her hair tightly and whine. You help her remove your shirt and she’s quick to remove your bra as well, beginning to trail kisses down your neck. “You’re so fucking pretty, got perfect tits…for a loser…” She snickers. 

This time it doesn’t feel malicious, it makes your clit twitch and your breath hitch. 

“You like when I’m mean to you, don’t you? Bet you’d go home after school everyday and play with that pretty pussy of yours and think about what I did to you…Bet it got you wet once I got everyone calling you wedgie girl…” Ellie smirks at you, admiring the embarrassed expression on your face.

“Shut up…” You giggle.

She smiles and starts to leave hickeys on your neck and collarbones, drawing whines and whimpers out of you with ease. She pulls back to admire her work, “I’d suggest you invest in a turtleneck, sweetheart,” she chuckles.

“Shit…what’s my roommate gonna say?” You mutter, brushing your hair out of your face as you try and think of an excuse to give Seline.

“Are you with her or something?” Ellie asks.

You shake your head no, “God no…she just knows I haven’t done anything like this before…never came back to our dorm with a hickey before either.”

“You’re so innocent it’s fucking adorable,” Ellie says, leaning forward and kissing you again. She pulls away and leans down to press kisses to your tits, nibbling slightly here and there, making you whine once she takes one of your nipples into her mouth, tweaking the other with her hand. “Fuck…Ellie…” you whine, tilting your head back as she worships your tits.

She trails a hand down to your cunt, slapping it lightly, making you yelp. She laughs softly and presses her ring and middle finger against your folds, swiping up some of your slick and bringing her fingers up to her mouth to taste you. She takes her fingers into her mouth and sucks your slick off, moaning at the taste, “You taste as good as you look, sweet girl.”

She leans forward to kiss you and slowly slips two fingers inside of you, you gasp against her lips and buck your hips forward. “Oh fuck…”

“I haven’t even started baby,” she laughs. She begins to pump her fingers in and out of your cunt, whispering praises to you as she brushes her thumb against your cunt. She bites her lip as you whine her name, reaching out to grip the bed sheets. “You’re so tight, bet you’ve been needing this huh…”

“Y-Yes mommy, needed it so bad,” you mumble, too engrossed in your own pleasure to truly realize the words leaving your lips. 

Ellie stops and tilts her head, looking at you with her jaw dropped, “Did you…did you just call me mommy?”

“Fuck…I-I’m so sorry, it just sli-” Ellie cuts you off by resuming her pace, speeding up her movements quickly to make you fall apart.

“Tell mommy how fucking good it feels,” Ellie commands. 

You’re quick to follow her orders, muttering pathetically about how good she’s making you feel. “Mommy…I fucking…I’m so close, need to…”

“Need to cum, don’t you pretty girl? Gonna make you cum, gonna make my pretty baby make a mess all over my lap.” Ellie curves her fingers inside you, hitting right where you need until it sends you over the edge. You let out a string of moans as you collapse forward onto Ellie, burying your face in her neck and you moan incoherently. Ellie works you through your orgasm, rubbing your back whispering praises as you come down. She sucks your juices off her fingers, continuing to rub your back and praise you as you catch your breath.

“Fuck…thank you…” You whisper, your head still buried in the crook of her neck.

Ellie smiles and pulls you close to her, “Anytime, loser.”

You roll your eyes and giggle, the word no longer feels hurtful but instead playful. Ellie pulls you off her lap and grabs your ripped panties off the floor, using them to clean you up. “These are coming home with me,” Ellie says, holding the ripped fabric up in front of your face.

You try to snatch them away from her but she’s quicker than you, stuffing them in her back pocket. “Nuh uh, these are mine now, loser. Need something to help me get off when I think about this again.”

She helps you redress and tries to help fix your hair and smudged makeup, it’s all futile thanks to the hickeys she decorated your neck and collarbones with. “You know it’s pretty dark out there, I doubt anyone will notice,” Ellie says, motioning to your hickeys.

You roll your eyes and give her a look that says ‘really?’ “Ellie, these are impossible to miss, my roommate is never gonna let me live it down.”

“I can’t help that I’m so good at humiliating you,” Ellie giggles, wrapping her arms around your waist, nuzzling her face into your neck.

“Shut up and take me back to my dorm,” you say playfully, nudging her with your head.

“Round two?” She asks hopefully.

“I’ll consider it…”

[mitsies]

-;. eye contact ; nagi seishiro > in which nagi seishiro realizes he has a crush on you!

you're a little bit unnerved by how intently nagi seishiro is staring at you.

his blank grey eyes have been fixed on you for the past however-many minutes, hardly blinking and barely shifting. he only spoke when prompted by reo.

you were perched on the edge of reo's bed, legs crossed and head propped up by your hands. your purple-haired best friend was leaning back against the bedframe, his laptop on his legs, as he chattered away about some essay he was writing for school.

nagi sat on reo's desk chair, head slouched against his arms, directed towards you. he's also meant to be working on his paper, and his laptop is open on the desk. the document he has pulled up is blank.

instead of his homework, nagi has been opting to watch you, and you can't think of a possible reason as to why.

it's not like you're doing anything interesting- you've been scrolling through social media on your phone and minding your own business, ignoring reo typically did when you spent time with him.

you've known reo since you were both young, and as a result, the both of you have become exponentially closer over the years. so, when reo made a new friend, one he seemed incredibly excited to meet, you'd been happy for him, and readily agreed to his offer to meet him.

he'd described his new friend nagi as tall, reserved, and interesting- you found yourself compelled to agree with all aforementioned aspects.

he's tall, for sure, taller than reo, and he doesn't speak much unless prompted. and he was definitely intriguing, to say the least. you try not to glance at him because he will definitely see you, but every so often you attempt to sneak a furtive look towards the other boy.

each time, you find that his stare is still fixated on you, and your skin burns under his gaze as you snap your head back down to your phone and vigorously tap to pretend you had some kind of important business to attend to.

"nagi, what do you think about my thesis?"

reo's voice cuts through the awkward cycle of staring-contact-staring, and you could get on your hands and knees and thank him.

"it's good."

reo furrows his brows at nagi's reply. "you didn't even look at it, dude. what have you been doing this whole time?"

nagi doesn't respond, and you pretend that you're not listening to their conversation. a startled noise sounds from him, though, as reo shoves his laptop in his face, effectively breaking through nagi's line of vision.

"i'm not reading all that."

reo sighs dramatically, before turning his attention to you. he turns the screen so you can see it. "what do you think about my thesis, then?"

you raise an eyebrow. "i'm not even in that class. i don't think i'll be much help, reo."

he exhales and pinches between his eyebrows. "okay, whatever. i'm going to go downstairs and ask someone else."

"is there even anyone else home?"

"probably not," reo grumbled, "but nobody'll still be more useful than you two."

he flounces outside his bedroom, and you could almost swear you hear him muttering something cryptic about how 'the two of you deserve each other.'

you glance back over to nagi after the door clicks shut and you see that he's looking at you again. this time, you don't turn your head away, though- there's something new in the air, something electrifying. you feel compelled to return his gaze.

his eyes, you note, are really big. they're not the kind of grey that's cold and boring, either; they've got a certain warmth to them that makes your heart skip a beat.

"what's up, nagi?"

you opt to break the silence, shifting awkwardly on the bed to face him properly. nagi blinks. "nothing much."

"ah. cool."

"not really."

"oh. sorry."

"it's okay."

you purse your lips. could this get any more awkward?

"so... what's your essay on?"

"what essay?"

"the one you're meant to be working on. like, right now."

"oh. i don't know." at this, nagi's attention drifts to his laptop screen, which has gone dim. he jitter-clicks the spacebar and the white light of his screen illuminates his face.

a smile tugged at your lips. "that's a little worrying. isn't it kind of a big deal?"

nagi swivels in the chair, pulling his knees to his chin, and meets your eyes again. "i'll deal with it eventually. just not now."

"what's stopping you now?"

nagi blinks. a cloud of puzzlement drifts over his vision, because why wasn't he working on his essay? there was the obvious factor of just not wanting to, sure, but what had he been doing for the past half hour he'd been at reo's house?

he wasn't playing any games, and he hadn't been asleep. he'd just been... sitting there. watching you.

oh. nagi was watching you.

he rests his head on his knees in a really uncomfortable-looking way that only tall people can manage as he rewinds, mentally recollecting the images of you- of the slope of your nose, the shape of your lips, how your face contorted into smiles when reo said something funny, how your hair swished around your face when you moved around- oh. nagi was watching you because he thinks you're pretty. really, really pretty.

"not sure," he says.

"good reason."

"thanks."

the conversation is dry, and eventually your attention shifts back to your phone, but it's less awkward now- when you'd smiled, an air of tension had broken. you smiled, and nagi had a crush on you- that was all there was to know.

"i'm back!" reo announced, slamming the door open and causing you to jump a little where you sat.

"and my thesis was wonderful, apparently, so thank you, guys, for helping."

you glare at reo. behind you, nagi is doing the same with more passion than usual. reo looks a little taken aback, before he realizes- oh.

oh, he was going to have fun with this.

[roseglazedlens]

Okay let's forget about all the agents Kennedy, alcohol and trauma in RC, Ada...ect,and turn to Leon s Kennedy as Your husband's policeman 36years is receiving a promotion to Chief Police Officer cuz I can't see my bbguy suffer more :(,you can add some nsfw if you want to

thank you for requesting lovely! i'm sorry i write so much angst hahhaha, but here is a change of pace! i've never written anything purely fluff (lol) and so many characters, so this is a challenge! i hope you enjoy!

⦑ take me home ⦒✶.*

pairing(s): leon kennedy x gn! reader synopsis: you throw a surprise party for your boyfriend's last day at work after his job promotion. content: pure fluff, established relationship, flirting, alcohol, leon is tipsy, but he's cute & not depressed ab it. claire, rebecca, jill & chris works in RPD. « 1 k words┇masterlist┇ao3┇reblogs appreciated! »

Today is an unusual sight for the usually hectic police department in Raccoon City. The office is adorned with balloons, garlands, and laughter, celebrating not just the promotion of a well-loved officer, Leon S. Kennedy, but also his farewell as he relocates to a new precinct.

You should be happy for your boyfriend – and you are – but part of you will miss watching over his figure from your desk, casting flirtatious grins back and forth in attempts to distract each other from the rigorous paperwork.

A banner suspends between the light fixtures, observing the lopsided words ‘CONGRATULATIONS’, strings twisted into the knot. The culprit of this handiwork, Chris, puffs out his chest proudly, while Rebecca looks at him in disbelief.

“Chris, leave the decorations to Rebecca, please.” You break apart the squabble forming between them. Rebecca smirks as Chris descends the ladder, defeated. “Don’t forget everyone, this is supposed to be a surprise.”

“Claire, where is the card?” You interrogate the next person in your line of sight, who happens to be Claire. All whilst you signal Rebecca to tilt the banner slightly upwards. “Has everyone signed?”

“Yep. It’s just you left.” She hands over the card, before resuming to the case files on her computer.

The card scrawls with heartfelt blessings from your team, a lot of ‘good lucks’, ‘we’ll miss you’, and nostalgia when he was just a rookie. He worked hard for ten years to be a sergeant, and you know he deserves this.

You pick up your pen – contemplating the words to express how amazing he is, how you will love him forever, how you will miss the sneaky make-out sessions in the work janitor’s closet.

…Marvin will be so proud of you. Yours, ....

The vibration in your pocket cuts you off mid-sentence – Jill. She is supposed to be on the case with Leon for another thirty minutes. You read the text out loud.

“I can't hold him back much longer, we're on our way. ETA in five minutes!!”

The floor scrambles in panic to finalise their positions. Rebecca quickly secures the banner with some tape. Claire is passing party poppers. Chris is putting away the ladder to the storeroom.

As Jill enters the space with Leon following behind, all the confetti releases at once.

The rainbow plastic ribbons catching in his hair like stardust in sand. You catch a glimpse of surprise in his reaction, following with a light on the corner of his lips.

“To Leon!” your team lifts their glasses high in the air, sipping beers and cocktails all night. Leon is the star tonight – you can barely talk to him without two other people buying him drinks all night along.

You catch him a whole two hours later in the circle booth, after some of the crowd has dispersed, his cheeks redden from the many drinks consumed all in a few hours. You squeeze yourself through three different people to sit yourself next to Leon.

“Having fun?” You try to get his attention by nudging at his forearm. “Don’t get too drunk though, I have to take you home.”

Leon lifts his gaze, when he sees you right by him, a grin tug at his face almost immediately. His cerulean eyes somehow more glazy than usual.

“Thank you for doing all of this. You are so good for me.” Despite the scent of beer merging with his breath, the grin on his face remains childlike. One that you only see in his drunkenness, which he lets down his guard to show more of his emotional side.

“Everyone helped. Not just me.” You are thinking how cute Leon looks when he’s drunk. “You are well-loved in here. I’m just the facilitator.”

“How about you work for me?” Leon brings the back of your palm to his lips. “I can pull some strings, now that I’m sergeant.”

“Sergeant Kennedy, using your influence for personal goals? It’s not even your first day.” You quip with a slight chuckle.

“And what if I am?” He peppers kisses from your palm to your fingers, the faint heat from his lips sizzle through your nerves. “Sure you’ll enjoy less time on the field, and more time in my office.”

“Well, if that’s the case.” You decide to let this banter go on a little further. “I expect to be well-compensated for my extra duties.”

“That will depend on your performance.” He raises a sassy eyebrow, pulling you closer until your noses touch.

“Good thing I always hit my KPI’s.”

“I do like a hardworking employee…”

Eyes fluttering shut slowly, you smile into the kiss. His lips lay gently on yours, sucking slightly at your cupid’s bow. Your bodies move closer, so close that you rests your hand on Leon’s thigh for support. The kiss deepens further, sloppier, tongues intertwined until…

“Ahem.” Chris clears his throat loudly, snapping you back to the present.

You open your eyes to find the whole table staring at the two of you. Your gaze finds its way to Jill, which she immediately, most awkwardly, rolls her eyes to the ceiling as if there is something to see there. Claire is nonchalant, sipping her beer and simply enjoying the scene.

You retract the tongue that is still shoved in Leon’s mouth. A hint of pink is running up your cheeks, you don’t need to see it to feel it. Leon, however, is unphased by the attention from his coworkers. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, perhaps it’s knowing that he won’t be seeing these guys next Monday.

“So… next rounds on me. Who’s in?” Chris attempts to diffuse the awkwardness, which earns a few curt nods from the table.

Leon holds you by the hand, picking you up from the seat. “Sorry Chris, we’re gonna call it. It’s been a long night. Thanks for the party, everyone.”

You two shuffle past Chris and Jill out of the booth, after a round of hugs with everyone, you can practically feel Leon sprinting out the bar.

“How ‘bout we continue where we left off at my place?”

Your cheeks turn a deeper red. It seems like he will be the one to take you home tonight instead.

thanks for reading! come check out my other works. ––yours truly, rose. tags: @carlosgf @sporeghost (pm me for tags) © roseglazedlens - please do not repost, plagiarise, or feed to ai.

[generalllimaginesss]

https://www.tumblr.com/generalllimaginesss/737276766654185472/how-many-pick-up-lines-will-it-take-to-get-you-to

what if she starts flirting back and gets him all flustered

I was going to work on a some different things, but I kept getting this request so we’re gonna roll with it :)) thank you for requesting!! Part 1 is here.

also....3 goals in 1:09 seconds....wtf devils???

••

"Dude, you can't keep hitting on my sister. She's not interested, man," Your brother and Jack were messing around on the outdoor rink that was set up in the backyard.

"I know, I know," Jack sighed passing the puck to your brother.

"Do you though? It's been 16 years and you're still going at it with her," Your brother's eyebrows raised as he shot at the goal, the puck ricocheting off of the top bar.

Jack rolled his eyes, snatching the rebound and attempting his own shot. He made it, watching as his friend was getting off the ice. Jack joined slowly.

"I think if she got over herself and actually gave me a chance she'd be surprised," Jack caught a glimpse of you watching them from your bedroom window. He waved at you, but you responded with a middle finger as you closed the blinds.

"Maybe, but she hasn't for this long, so maybe you should chill," Your brother couldn't care less if Jack dated you, but the constant flirting was aggravating sometimes.

"Maybe," Jack mumbled, batting off the snow that had accumulated on his hoodie before walking inside.

The boys made their way to the living room, grabbing a couple of blankets to help warm them up from the cold. Your brother had put on a random football game, basically for background noise as he began to doze off.

Jack busied himself until he heard footsteps coming down the stairs followed by your appearance as you walked into the kitchen. He watched you quietly, taking in the details of you. You had stolen your brother's sweatshirt, wearing it with a pair of leggings and fuzzy socks.

"Hughes, I know I'm hot, but you're staring is creepy," You said, nonchalantly, pouring a glass of water before turning around. You faced Jack, his smile greeting you.

"I like a self-aware woman," He commented, the blush that rushed your face adding fuel to his fire.

You leaned on the island, forearms flat on the cool counter, the wrinkles on your forehead evident from trying to figure the boy out. He was cute, you'd give him that, but you were never into hockey guys. The more you thought about it, it wasn't anything personal with Jack. He had never done anything to make you hate him, you just didn't let yourself like him.

"Now look who's staring," Jack smirked, the tension from the eye contact between the two of you could be cut with a knife.

What the hell...the house was a little boring, it could use something to make it more interesting with Jack here.

You glanced over at your brother, making sure that he was dead asleep before you had your fun with Jack. His mouth was open and drool was threatening to spill over, so it was safe to say that you were safe from there being witnesses to what was about to go down.

"Maybe I like what I see," Your voice was darker than normal, dripping with sultry as you walked around the counter towards Jack.

His eyes were wide, looking around him to make sure there wasn't anybody else around that you might have been talking to.

"Don't worry, I'm talking to you," You assured him, pulling the blanket off of him as you sat on his lap.

He had many dreams about you, but he had never imagined something like this actually happening. His throat was dry, lips parted as he tried to get over the shock of the situation.

"What's wrong, Jack?" You wrapped your arms around him, your lips inching near his ear, "...cat got your tongue?"

"What are you doing?" His voice was hoarse, the nerves coursing through his body constricting his vocal cords. He could feel goosebumps rise on his arms as you placed a set of kisses down his neck.

Your lips broke contact with the delicate skin on his neck, bringing your face inches away from his. His face was beet red, his usual flirty self long gone as you had taken control.

"You know, I have some pick up lines," Your voice was barely a whisper as you kissed closer and closer to Jack's lips. The teasing was driving him insane. If it wasn't for the shock of your actions, he probably would have taken advantage of the situation. However, the shock prevented him from doing anything, freezing him as you had fun with him.

"Yeah?" He croaked, your lips headed back toward his neck and close to his ear again.

"Is that a candy cane in your pocket, or are you just excited to see me?"

Jack was breathing hard, probably the reason your brother was beginning to stir awake. Before he could see what was unfolding, you had removed yourself from Jack's lap, watching as he scrambled for the blanket to cover himself before your brother could see the product of your fun.

You could feel the daggers from Jack's glare as you walked back to the kitchen, grabbing a banana and beginning to peel and eat it.

There was no way Jack was letting this slide. What was once playful flirting had just turned into an all out war. He sure as hell wasn't letting you win the game that he had mastered.

Your brother was awake, scrolling through his phone, unaware of what just happened.

Jack's eyes were dark as he stared at you, you staring right back at him.

"Later," He mouthed, preventing your brother from hearing.

You smiled, holding in your chuckle as you walked away, but not before looking him in the eyes and giving him a wink.

"We'll see," Your smirk burned into the back of his eyes.

16 years of going after this damn girl and she just randomly decides to pull this stunt? And all he could do was just sit there and take it? No way was he going to let her gain the upper hand over him...

*

*

*

*

[ghcstao3]

Ghost never really learned how to properly tie a tie.

He never had reason to. Never had a father that would teach him, either. And when it comes to formal dress after joining the military, he’d always fidget and tug and prod at knots until they looked right, whether or not they were done properly.

He’s tried looking up tutorials, sure, but it’s just… overwhelming as to how many ways ties can be knotted. So he never bothers. Just does his best to pretend like he knows even when he’s so, so lost.

Because it doesn’t matter.

At least, not until—years down the line—his and Soap’s wedding.

Ghost figures it’s his time to finally learn, then, because it has to be perfect. He can’t mimic a knot for such an important day, just praying for the best, he has to do his tie up properly.

But he can’t.

He tries, over and over, watching videos and looking at picture-by-picture instructions, but he can’t. Ghost gets frustrated, hands trembling more and more every attempt until eventually he just… gives up. Rips off the tie and resigns himself to slumping into the nearest chair, running fingers desperately through hair he’d taken so long to make look nice.

Soap finds him much too close to the start of the ceremony, quick to rush to his side and ask what’s wrong.

Ghost isn’t sure when the tears had started welling, or when his bottom lip had started to wobble. He lets Soap gently guide his hands away from his head, pressing thumbs lightly into open palms.

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” Ghost mutters. His tie is loose around his neck, an irritating reminder of why he’s yet to be ready to meet Soap at the end of the aisle.

Soap smiles softly at him. He looks so handsome, as always—him and his perfectly tied tie.

“I doubt it,” he says, oh-so kindly. “Never is.”

Ghost laughs quietly, the sound shaky, watery. He swallows the lump that threatens to rise in his throat, peering into the comfort of Soap’s eyes to lend him strength as he confesses, “I can’t get my fucking tie right.”

“That’s all?” Ghost nods and Soap sighs, sitting down on his knees, pressing the back of Ghost’s hands to his forehead like an odd sort of worship. “Thank God. Had me worried you were rethinking things.”

"I'd never rethink this, I just—" Ghost takes a shuddering breath. "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Ghost mourns the loss of Soap's warmth as he lets go of his hands. He lifts a hand to drag through Ghost's hair, surely mussing it in a way that looks better than the tangled mess Ghost had probably left it as. "All you had to do was ask for help."

Ghost's gaze falls to the ground as shame burns his ears. "I just didn't want you to think—"

"I'd never think any less of you for not bein' able to tie a tie, Simon," Soap assures him. "There's a stupid amount of ways to do it 'right', anyway. C'mere."

Ghost leans forward enough for Soap to have a comfortable grip on his tie. He watches Soap's face the entire time, the subtle concentration in his expression, though surely he should be paying attention to how he ties the knot instead.

He doesn't move even as Soap has switched to adjusting his collar and smoothing the artificial wrinkles of his dress shirt.

"Pure braw," Soap murmurs. He sits up to capture Ghost in a kiss, sweet and innocent and comforting.

"You're supposed to save that for after the vows," Ghost says once they break apart.

Soap barks out a laugh. "Prude," he teases.

He stands slowly, then, wincing when his knees crack as he gets up. Soap offers out a hand to Ghost, of which Ghost happily accepts.

Soap grins at Ghost, then, bright and blinding and full of love.

"Let's go get married, then, shall we?"