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reiderwriter · 1 month

Note

Hi Kacie!! Now that your requests are open... Could I request a smutty fic where Spencer finds out reader has a not-so-common sensitive spot (like her legs, hair, arms, whatever body part you want). Maybe he finds out kinda in a public setting after she gets all flustered and wants to keep pushing to test his theory?? You can take as much inspo from this as you want<3

(If this emoji's not taken)-💃 anon

A/N: Hello! Sorry for going MIA for a while there. It was the beginning of a new school year here in SK, so I've been really busy! I've been chipping away at this one little by little, and it's finally done! I hope you enjoy it ♡

Warnings; Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, case details, misogyny from a bartender in the opening scene, Semi-public sexual experimentation, edging, PinV sex, use of pet names (good girl), slight degradation, cum play, etc.

Masterlist

The back of the bar was dimly lit as you walked through it, keeping pace with your teammate as you kept one eye on the shady inhabitants of the bar.

You'd been sent - with Spencer of all people - to ask the local dive bar staff about suspicious regulars. A fact that didn't exactly take into account his general lack of intimidating looks and your status as the newest member of the team.

A trial by fire if you'd ever seen one.

You tried your best not to stick out like a sore thumb, but the people in these parts could spot a Fed from a mile away. And though Spencer was remarkably pipe-cleaner-like, they'd certainly recognised enough FBI in him to clam up upon your entrance.

“We got some visitors, I see. What can I be getting you, little lady?” The barman greeted you as you reached the first stool at the counter, a patronizing smile on his moustache clad lips.

“If it's okay, we'd like to ask you some questions. I'm Agent Y/N with the FBI. This is my partner, Doctor Spencer Reid.”

“You're a Fed? Now, why would you bother doing all that hard work when you could be warming my bed, girl. It's definitely more honest and satisfying work.”

The way the man leered at you over the counter has you freezing momentarily. Your instincts were saying fight, but you held your tongue just long enough to not ruin any rapport your team could build with locals.

“I'm flattered, but already spoken for I'm afraid. Have you seen any suspicious men in here in the last six months, one that would pass through only semi-regularly, maybe with a few female companions, though never the same.”

Professionalism at the cost of your peace of mind was going to be a hard learn for you as you grit your teeth and swallowed the bile in your throat.

He just continued to leer at you as he dried up beer glasses.

“You're looking for a man who likes cheap whores? Maybe you are in the market for a career change after all.”

That was about all you could take, and luckily, Spencer Reid was well aware.

Quickly grabbing you by the wrist, he pulled you behind him defensively and leaned over the bar, his voice low and somewhat chilling.

“Disrespect my partner like that again, and I'll have you charged with aiding and abetting a murderer who has kidnapped and ended the lives of three local girls. Local girls whose fathers you're more than likely acquainted with, who absolutely have multiple acres of property and just enough bullets to put you in the ground.”

The blood rushed to your ears at his voice, but the light grip of your wrist held you in place indefinitely.

All the fight left your body, as you found yourself coming dangerously close to melting into Spencer in relief.

He forced the man to answer some more basic questions, but it wasn't as if you could hear them. He stroked a quick thumb back and forth across your wrist as all the thoughts fled your head, and the words fell asleep on your tongue, resting there until he released you from his grip.

You'd known that the area was slightly sensitive for a while, having accidentally brushed up against things and felt serious chills shoot up your spine. What you hadn't known was that it was that kind of sensitivity.

Though, in all honesty, you hadn't exactly known that you could feel that kind of excitement for Spencer either. You just hoped he wouldn't notice. That much.

Having finished his line of questioning and reiterating his threat, he moved his hand from your wrist to the small of your back and adeptly guided you from the restaurant and out of the line of vision of every pair of eyes in the place.

“Are you okay?” He asked when he finally got you to the car, voice still quiet and low, and slightly too close to let you fully relax.

“Peachy. He talked to you at least.” You turned away from him and began opening the passenger side door.

“Nothing new or useful, though. Your bpm is high,” he joined you in the car, putting on his seat belt while you completely let go of yours, letting it zip back into itself.

“My… my what?”

“Your bpm is high. Your heart was beating so fast,” he said, reaching over you to help you reclip it. “Were you nervous, Y/n? Or just sensitive?”

“Your mouth is entirely too close to mine to be asking that question,” you breathed out, cursing your eyes from stealing a glance at his lips.

Only five minutes into this sudden attraction to Spencer Reid, and you were already mortified and extremely horny. In equal measures.

“What would be the appropriate distance to ask that, then?”

“I hear Australia is lovely this time of year.”

He chuckled softly at you as he finished adjusting your seat and then moved far enough away to let the ground swallow you in peace.

Never one to leave well enough alone, it seemed that Spencer took it upon himself to experiment with you for weeks on end after that.

He'd constantly ask you to pass him papers, pens, anything that'd allow him to run a finger across the inside of your wrist. On more than one occasion you'd caught him staring into your eyes as he did it, and it took a nearly embarrassing amount of time to realise he was checking how dilated your pupils were before and after.

When he'd gathered enough data for that line of questioning, he moved on to bigger things.

You knew you were in danger of seriously falling head over ads when he offered to walk you to your motel door in a seedier case location.

You, an FBI agent with a real-life gun and badge and job at Quantico, and you were jumping at the chance to have a man walk you to your room. You'd have been embarrassed if you weren't burning with anticipation.

You hoped that like every other man in history, he was gently trying to insinuate himself into your bedroom, and by extension, your bed and more intimate places.

So you were more than slightly disappointed when he started wishing you a good night. All of the aforementioned disappointment fled your body, though, when he picked up your hand and dropped a kiss to the inside of your left wrist, repeating the action on the right before wordlessly retreating.

You stared at his back as he walked purposefully down the corridor and into his own room, leaving you to pick up your jaw and retreat to your room to lick your wounds.

You wished it was him picking you up instead and found your brain imagining just that as your fingers dropped between your thighs that night.

It became a case tradition for him to tease you like this, kissing your wrist after innocently walking you back to your hotel room. The others thought it chivalrous, almost cute and childlike, a form of courting that graced the good old days. They didn't know he grabbed you by the waist and held you against his hard-on every time you rode an elevator together. They didn't know his tongue darted out a few times to lick your wrist on occasion. They didn't know how you once mentally begged him to bite you there and how you shuddered as he ran his teeth along the vein there.

Spencer was coming to the crux of his research regarding how far he could push you before you cracked. Only now, it was how far he could get without pushing you against a wall and jumping your bones.

You knew you were in danger when he offered to escort you home after a case.

“To walk you to your door, you know? Like always,” he smiled at you, the picture of innocence as you became damp between your thighs.

“Sure. Yeah, okay, I'll get my keys, let's go.”

You weren't sure how no one else noticed that Spencer didn't have a car to drive himself home after taking you to yours. You were unsure if they'd connect the dots between him escorting you home and his own apartment being 45 minutes in the opposite direction.

Luckily for you, you could keep your hands at 2 and 10 the entire journey, away from his grasp. If he'd have touched you right then, you're sure you'd have driven both of you right off the road into a ditch.

Or a pedestrian.

The drive was calm, but pulling up forced your heart to your throat and kept it suspended there, almost like it was frozen at gunpoint, a deer in the headlights.

“We're here.”

“Great. Let me walk you in.”

In. You swallowed hard, wishing very much for him to be inside of your apartment.

“Okay.”

Stepping into the elevator a few minutes later, he waited mere seconds after the doors began closing to pull you into his personal space. He was hard, he was so hard once again and his cock was now straining against your ass.

“Spencer, we need to talk about t-that,” he stroked your wrist as his hand splayed across your stomach, holding you firmly against him.

“About what, Y/N?”

He pulled your arm up almost as if inspecting the wrist for imperfections, and your head melted back into his chest. Why was this elevator so goddamn slow?

You sprung out quickly when the doors pinged open finally and moved straight towards your door without a glance back, but you felt him close behind you.

“Y/N, wait for me, wait, I'm sorry,” he called out quietly as you forced your keys into the lock as fast as possible.

“Y/N, I'm sorry if I stepped over the line, I didn't mean too, please look at me-”

You got the door open and turned back around to grab a firm hold of his tie and yank him into the apartment behind you.

“Months. Spencer, you have been edging me for months, and I am sick of it.” You half growled at him, slamming the door behind him and then pushing him up against it.

“I can feel how hard you are right now. Obviously you want to fuck me, so why aren't you?”

His face went from shocked to intrigued, then shot straight for mischievous as he cracked a smile, and you felt his hands wrap around your wrists slowly.

Before you could react, he had your positions swapped, your arms above your head pinned at the wrists and his breath hitting your neck as he answered.

“I wanted to see how long it would take you to break.”

Your lips leapt to his, hitting him angrily as you searched for more pleasure in his touch, one leg pushing up to wrap around his waist as his hips settled between yours.

He met you at your level, giving just as good as he got.

“Call it scientific curiosity,” he murmured, lips trailing down your neck, but hips pinning you in closer to the wall, keeping you trapped there. He made his way along your shoulders and then pressed light teasing kisses up your arms while rutting his hips into you, dry humping you against the wall as your eyes glazed over in lust.

“You react when I touch you, you heat up. But it gets worse if I touch you here, right Y/N?” His lips again found your wrist, but this time his teeth grazed across the veins he found there.

“You get so horny now when I look at you. I can grab your wrist and make you beg for my cock, isn't that right?” His mouth was back by your ear as your legs went limp under you. He still had you caged against your own door, and you had no idea what to say to that.

Part of you wanted to protest purely because of the rough tone of voice he was using. The other wanted to flood to the floor and tell him yes, beg him to just fuck you and be done with this pure torture.

“I asked you a question, Y/N. Isn't that right?”

“Yes, yes, Spencer fuck, I don't care anymore, yes. You can touch me and I'll react to you, please help me.”

“Good girl.”

He pulled away instantly, but his hands wrapped firmly still around your wrists. Slowly, he pulled you towards him as he slowly walked backwards further into your apartment. You thought for a second about just throwing yourself back into his arms, to close the space he'd created again between the two of you.

You tried it, lifted your head slightly, begging his lips to return there, but he held firm. Each step was an agony of need, and you fought to hold your tongue, begging yourself not to beg him so pathetically.

“Such a good girl, I'm holding you by the wrist, and you won't even protest about how slow I'm being.”

Your mouth fell open as you registered his words.

“You're being an ass.”

“What was that? You want me to touch your ass?”

“Spencer!”

“Don't worry, we'll get to that.”

His back finally made contact with your bedroom door, and you stumbled forward into his chest as he kept his grip even still.

“You're going to listen, right? You're going to listen to me and do what I ask you to do, aren't you?”

You wavered again. He'd been teasing you, but now he was serious, his tone light and his voice soft, but you could feel the strength in his grip. You could feel his arousal at your hip.

“Yes, Spencer.”

“Good. Get on your knees on the bed. No clothes.”

He released your hands and opened the door for you as you tried your best to walk forward calmly.

By the time you reached the bed, you'd removed most of your clothes, but you hesitated at the underwear as he watched from behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder saw him palming his cock through his pants, still leaning against the door he'd opened for you.

He was getting off watching you, and you were frozen in arousal.

“No clothes, Y/N.”

“I know.”

“Underwear is clothing.”

“I know that, too, Spencer.”

“Then take it off.”

You shot a quick glare over your shoulder as you unclaimed your bra behind your back and threw it to the floor.

“On my knees, right?” You said, climbing on the bed still clad in your panties.

“I also said no clothes.”

“If you're so invested in my state of dress, how about you come and help me rectify it.”

His lips twitched in small annoyance, but he followed the trail of clothes you'd left, ridding himself of his tie, shirt, jacket, and pants along the way.

He climbed on the bed slowly behind you, not opposite as you'd presumed he would. His hands reached out to touch your back before slowly sliding all the way up to your neck and pushing your upper body down into the sheets.

You let out a little squeak in shock, but let his hands guide you, feeling especially pliant when he grabbed your hands and crossed them behind your back.

“Maybe the panties can stay. I'll just decorate them afterwards,” he said, and with that, he pulled your hips up with his free hand guiding you into the position he wanted you in, and pushed two fingers into you.

“Fuck, Spencer-” your brain short circuited as he pumped the digits slowly in and out of you, setting an agonizing pace but holding you so tight that.you couldn't even press your cunt back into his fingers.

“What? What is it, Y/N? Tell me how you feel?”

“Feel good, so good Spencer, p-please more.”

He shifted slowly behind you, pulling his fingers out almost completely before pushing them back in, this time with another finger added. He didn't quicken his pace as you assumed he would, but he took his time stretching you out further as you moaned and whined underneath him.

“More. You wanted more,” he reminded you, and his voice was like a sharp hit straight to your cunt, rough and hot and filling you completely.

You barely registered the orgasm that flowed over you, your brain replaying his words on a loop as he continued pleasuring you.

“That's it. That's a good girl. Get my fingers nice and wet.”

When you finally grounded yourself in the moment again, your cheeks flushed as you realized just how wet you'd gotten. You felt your arousal still dripping down your leg and turned your face further into the sheets to hide your embarrassment.

He pulled his fingers out of you, though, and with his now free hand he crouched over you and hooked his fingers under your jaw lifting your head and body up, forcing your crotch back into his as your back arched.

“Don't hide from this. Look how wet you are for me, Y/N. Taste it.” He tapped his fingers against your mouth and you were ashamed at how fast your lips dropped open, tongue falling out to let him wipe his cum stained fingers against your pretty little lips.

You tasted yourself on his fingers, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking as he dragged his dick across your back, trying to relieve himself in any way he could.

“Good girl. It's time for one more, Y/N.”

You released his fingers with a wet pop as he pushed you back into the sheets. Lining himself up, he entered you easily, your cum providing ample lubricant.

You whined at his first few pumps, certain he was going to continue his torturous pace and leave you begging for more hours into the night.

Instead, he let himself work you up to it, each thrust gaining in speed and strength until you could hear the slap of your skin against his more vividly than your own heartbeat.

His cock was thick, filling you perfectly as you lost yourself in the sensations.

“One day, I'll handcuff you to this bed,” he said, leaning down and whispering in your ear as each part of your body vibrated with lust.

“I'll tie you down to this bed, and I'll treat you like a princess. I'll eat your cunt for hours until you cum every time my breath hits your cunt, and I'll cover your pretty tits in my seed. I'll let you use my cock as your personal sex toy, and I'll fulfill every single need you have.”

His hand released your wrists as both of his hands came to wrap around your waist, pushing you deeper into the plush covers and changing the angle of his dick.

You screamed at the pleasure, forgetting the paper thin walls your apartment boasted.

“Fuck, Spencer.”

“And you're going to love every single second because your brain switches off every time I touch your delicate little wrists.”

With that, another wave of pleasure spread through your body, sending prolonged shivers throughout your body.

You felt him withdraw and heard the sticky mess of him stroking himself behind you until he made good on his promise and sprayed his generous load across your ass and panties before collapsing on the bed next to you.

The two of you laid there for what felt like hours, sharing nothing but your labored breaths and the space of the bed before he finally rose.

You tried not to sleep, but your entire body felt stiff from the awkward, if enjoyable, position he'd held you in.

Your eyes drifted shut, and you just listened to his movements. A creaking floorboard here, a stumble against some furniture there, culminating in some running water and a return to your space.

“Y/N,” he whispered, cautious to rise you from what he assumed was much needed sleep.

“Mmmm,” was all you could reply.

“I realize now that I made a pretty big mess, so we need to get you in the bath.”

“Mmm,” you protested, brows furrowing as you tried to gather your sheets closer around you, cradling yourself in the warmth.

But doing so only made you more aware of the sticky wet mess around your torso and legs, and you let out a small, frustrated sigh.

“You're stubborn, you know that, right?” He said, admiration coating his tongue as he lifted you slowly and helped you place your feet on the floor and walk towards your bathroom.

“Spencer, shouldn't have a bath, too sleepy.”

“I know, I'm going to stay.”

“In the bath?”

“In the bath.”

“Good.”

And it was. You let him lift your legs one by one into the scorching water and melted back into him, your head resting on his shoulder as if it were the most comfortable pillow you'd ever used, and you slept.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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angelltheninth · 3 months

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Daily Dose of Vitamin D

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Rader

Tags: nsfw, smut, blowjob, morning sex, throatfucking, cum swallowing, praise

Word count: 0.5k

A/N: For those of you with vitamin D deficiency.

As one of the best doctors around you took Zayne's word as gospel when it came to your health. He would never steer you wrong, he deeply loves and cares about you like the caring and smart boyfriend that he is. Right? Yes. But... this... you knew this wasn't the way to get vitamin D. Yet Zayne insisted that it was a new method that he came up with and wanted to do a little experiment to see if it really worked.

It was a stupid excuse. "Zayne, for such a smart man, you sure do come up with the silliest of lies."

"And yet you're opening your mouth." Why, yes you were because you were looking for an excuse. His big tip pushed your lips open, guiding the throbbing length into your mouth, down your wanting throat. "You'll have your fill. I'll make sure of it."

You choked out a "Yes," around his cock an tilted your head back so he could push his balls against your chin, completely trap you between his legs. With nowhere to move your head you were at his disposal, his to use. Zayne's eyes softened for a moment when he looked at you, your pupils blown out and lips so tightly sealed around him.

They made the perfect slippery ring, so soft.

He moved back then slowly back in, relishing in your dawn out groan. Your hands pressed into his hips, tapping your fingers and letting him know he doesn't have to take it slow.

"A perfect test subject. So willing get a throat full of my cum. Aren't you lucky to be my girl? My good girl." Zayne rose on his knees then roughly back down, making your eyes water at the rough intrusion. He moved up and down, almost riding your face, your moans barely choked out, mixing with wet gurgling sounds and the sounds of his balls smacking against your chin.

You couldn't let him do all the work. You were never one to be lazy for him. As his cock pushed in and out you circled your tongue around the tip, making it twitch, his cock getting hotter, salty cum dripping from the tip.

Zayne pressed his hands on the wall, his biceps flexing, relaxing, his hair falling over his face as his cold expression began to crack into that of pleasure. Seeing his pulling his lip between his teeth and saying your name in that low tone made you suck him even harder, and you made damn sure he both heard and felt it.

What you felt moments later was his warm, gooey cum flooding your taste buds, being fucked deep down your throat. Thick webs of it connected his cock and your lips, his cock still twitching and shooting little drops across your mouth, cheeks and breasts.

"I feel even more tired. Your experiment failed." You commented with a cheeky smile as you kissed his cock. Zayne slicked his hair back, easy with the sweat on his forehead, which made him look more handsome then he already was. "Do over?"

"In a few minutes." Not even he could get hard again instantly. "Let me write this down first. We need to have notes to compare." Of course, this was an experiment after all.

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace headcanons #love and deepspace imagine #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace fanfiction #zayne x reader #zayne headcanons #zayne fanfiction #zayne smut #love and deepspace #zayne #smut drabble #x female reader

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wheel-within-a-wheel · 1 year

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(2/2): List all the tv shows you are watching.

oh this should be easy because there are no shows i technically never finished but haven't actually watched in months faint sound of crying

#okay so the only one that properly counts in the present tense is doctor who #well if rewatching counts #there won't be any new episodes for another year pensive #i've still got two episodes of our flag means death left as well #and looking over all the other shows on my favourite streaming service (folder of torrented media)#i never finished flight of the conchords or arrested development #i also watched the first episode of mob psycho 100 a couple months ago #and the first episode of chainsaw man yesterday #i'll finish all of them eventually i swear #my posts #asks

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lvlyghost · 10 months

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The Things I Never Said: Part 2

Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Summary: upon learning about your pregnancy simon thinks there are things he needs to take care of.

Word Count: 1.2k

Tw: Angst, fluff, hurt with a lot of comfort, banter. The task force is there for you💞 i think that's it✨

A/N: here it is, i never planned a second part so forgive me if it's not as good! Still hope you like it. Already working on a request that's similar to this one🐸✨ thank you so much for all the support. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Remember english isn't my first language, corrections are welcome🩵

Masterlist✨ | Part 1 | Part 3

Simon pulls you closer to his body, one arm draped over your form and hand resting on your stomach. The storm is raging outside, the thunder startles you every five minutes. You stay there in complete silence as the realization of this whole thing settles in your minds. He wants you to be safe now more than ever that's why when he's reliving the events of the day it hits him. He had thought the worst, that you were abandoning him, that you got tired of him. Simon would never say this to you but losing you would be the end of him. Enraged and with his heart racing he had hopped on his motorcycle. The soft caressing of his fingers stops abruptly, body going rigid behind you. You turn your face in worry.

"Simon?" You call him. You were beginning to fall asleep. "What is it?"

"That fuckin' muppet." He snarls. "I was so caught up in you leaving that I'd forgotten he hit you. That cunt... fucking Christ." He sits. "Let me see." He lifts your shirt just above your belly with gentle hands.

"Love, I'm... it's fine." Simon sucks in a sharp breath as his eyes land on the bruised area of your skin.

"What did the doctor say?" He demands, eyes somber.

"She said i should stay in bed for a few days and to not lift heavy things or you know just... overwork myself."

Simon rubs his eyes with the heel of his hands, disgruntled.

"This is on me... my bloody fault"

"Hey, stop now." You stand up, coming to a sitting position to mirror his stance. "You didn't know." Soft hands fall on both sides of his face. "I should've told you before this happened, if anything this is on me."

"If something happened to you i would never forgive myself, kid. Lie down. You need to rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

Simon's been waiting for this day since the incident. You're still at home, recovering from what could've ended with you in a hospital bed and a broken heart.

"You sure about this, Sir?" Gaz asks, worried about what might happen. "It's just training right?"

"Just training." Simon's eyes are set on that bastard. Craning his neck he steps on the sparring mat. As much as he wanted to go find him and kill him he couldn't do such thing. But after the images that flooded his mind made him realize how dangerous it had been. What could potentially have happened the rage within him is boiling his blood. And now he needs somebody to pay the price. Choices have consequences and he nearly had a painful one. If he had insisted just more...

Breathing harshly he looks him in the eye. Poor muppet doesn't know what's coming for him. He stands there confidently, thinking he has a chance against Ghost. Not Simon, the man only she gets the chance to see.

This is Ghost about to fight.

For some reason you decided to stop by the local pastry shop and bring something for the task force. You're feeling much better so that's why you're walking down the corridor of the military compound. With a shirt that's nearly too oversized a pair of combat boots and a cap. You figured you could have these outside of the base and enjoy a nice day with your teammates. You missed them already. Since Simon had been reluctant to leave your side, and you loved it that's for sure, but he wouldn't let you do much as simple tasks like washing the dishes or doing the laundry.

Walking past the doors you're greeted with loud cheering and yelling at the two men in the middle of the mat. Your smile quivers until you process the scene in front of you. Not surprised, not worried. He's gonna be just fine. The other poor boy... Price is the first to notice you, approaching you in three long strides. He had decided to stop by and watch, that's how they sort things out.

"Here, let me help you with that." He takes most of the desserts from your hands, scrutinizing your features with slight concern. Your eyes glued to Simon's hulking body. "I'm gonna assume he doesn't know you're here. Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm not on duty, Captain."

"I'm not asking as your Captain but as a friend."

You turn to face him with the ghost of a smile on your lips.

"I'm feeling better so I wanted to see you all, maybe we could have these together as soon as Simon is done with his personal grudge."

Price chuckles. Reluctant to see the rest of the fight, you keep talking to John until it comes to an end. More cheers and clapping echoing around the place. You take a quick glance and get a glimpse of the younger soldier limping while he plops down on a near bench, his teammates gathered around him holding a towel out for him to clean up his face. Footsteps approach you and Price, Simon's frowning behind the mask you can tell by the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle.

"Hey little lady!" Soap greets you with a big smile, hugging you tightly. "Heard you got all knocked up!"

"For fucks sake, Johnny!" Gaz scolds him. "Have some more respect for the girl."

Johnny rolls his eyes feigning annoyance letting Kyle hug you too.

"Don't bet mad at him. We all know why he had to do it." He whispers before pulling away.

When Simon joins you, you're aware of what's coming.

"You're out of bed." He points out, blankly.

"It's been almost a week. As long as I don't lift heavy things I'll be alright. Remember?" You speak back. You reach out for his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. The rest of the team silently walks away to the outside giving you some privacy. Simon studies you, all of you. There's a spark of worry in his blue eyes that you don't like. "Don't worry about me anymore."

He pulls you closer, arms wrapping around your shoulders as he inhales deeply.

"Is that my shirt, doll?" He asks in a hushed tone. You chuckle, burying your face in his chest.

"I missed you, and it smells like you." Simon prompts you softly to start walking outside and join the rest. "You're not hurt, are you?" You stare up at him.

"Don't you worry about me, he wasn't able to land one single hit, love."

You pull him down kissing over the black balaclava where his lips would be.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive myself for not telling you Simon." You sigh.

"I understand now why you didn't, kid. I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at myself for not making you feel safe enough to tell me. If anything I'm to blame."

"Is there any chance I may touch your belly?" Soap asks as soon as you sit down next to him.

"Yes." You reply with a wide smile.

"No." Simon growls at the same time.

"Jesus! I suppose that naming the child after me is also off the table?"

"Absolutely."

A round of laughs echoing around and along the backyard. Your eyes scanning every person gathered in this very moment. Loyalty, admiration, respect and love.

A family of your own that would soon get a new addition.

"What if it's a beautiful girl?" Gaz interrogates.

Everyone goes silent.

"Fucking hell." Simon whispers.

He's fucked.

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod ghost #cod mw22 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost imagine #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #gaz x reader #call of duty ghost simon riley #cod simon ghost riley #fanfic

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laurashapiro-noreally · 5 months

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Good Omens S2 fic recs

Need something good to read?

it's written all over by @et-in-arkadia, who never fails to grab me by the throat. Aziraphale comes back that very night and gives Crowley exactly what he wants...sort of. (E)

A Million Times by @chamyl. A breathless, tender reconciliation with excellent Muriel in. (E)

Not for All My Little Words by @mia-ugly and soft_october. For everyone who wants to see Aziraphale apologize. A lot. (E)

I'll Wait by @copperplatebeech. Could've chosen any of a dozen of Copper's sharp, shrewd pieces. Whether you like them funny, aching, hot, or tender, she's got your number -- often all at once. This one's (T)

A Bit of a Gray Area by @princip1914. Look, I for one was waiting for bad angry standing-up sex in a bathroom. The fact that it's one of my favorite authors providing it is the icing on my eccles cakes. (E)

(Do eccles cakes have icing? Is the E in eccles capitalized? I am not doing research for this Tumblr post.)

Five First Kisses And One [5+1 Things] by @werpiper. If you need to believe that there were many kisses before That One, this is a great story to enjoy, and if you need to believe they were banging through history, @werpiper is a great writer to get acquainted with. (E)

in the french fashion by @giddygeek. Were you wanting that 1941 "something I can do for you" hot, romantic, in-character, and intellectually intriguing? Step right up. (E)

the soft animal of your body by @focusfixated. A short but powerful take on the ox rib situation. (E)

An Invitation to Dance by @lavraiemonchichi. Another short take. What if the apology dance, but kinky? (E)

Covenant of Salt by @twwings. Make it long, make it deep, do it in the dark. Hard, complicated like fine wine. Yeah, that's the way I like it. Get acquainted with twings, she's dynamite in this or any other fandom (ask me about her MCU novel!).(E)

the two shepherds of uruk by @inkatesbush. WHAT a story, OMG. A slow burn in the context of the Tower of Babel. These two hardly know one another, but they'll learn, oh, they'll learn. Agile prose, storytelling like a blow to the solar plexus. (E)

White on White by @twilightcitysky. What could be a more appropriate erotic awakening for Aziraphale than a sad wank in Heaven? Well, I could tell you, but you'd have more fun if you read this story and its sequels. (E)

The Butterfly Effect by @plaidadder. A master storyteller at the top of their game, this Doctor Who crossover works even if you don't know Doctor Who and aren't excited about crossovers. Why? Because what could be more satisfying than putting Aziraphale and Crowley in a time loop until they work out their nonsense? I'll tell you what: humor, stunningly romantic prose, Revelations-inspired eldritch horrors, and happy endings for everyone. (T)

Have fun and don't forget to leave comments!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #doctor who #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #fic recs #good omens fic recs #good omens fic #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfiction recs #fandom is my fandom

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darkbluekies · 23 days

Text

Dr Kry drabble: having a nightmare (as a doctor/husband)

Doctor!yandere OC x reader

Warnings: half Stockholm syndrome, mentions of poison, trauma(?), dreams of being cut open

As a doctor

You pick up the phone connected to the wall with a shaking hand. The phone is connected to one other phone in the hospital: Kry's. He has always said that you can call him at any time of the day when he's not there if you need him. This is the first time you take advantage of his offer. It takes a few seconds for him to answer. You must have awoken him, you think and sigh. You know that he sleeps less than a man his age should, maybe you should try to go back to bed?

"What's wrong, Y/N?" you hear his voice ask, newly awoken and raspy.

"I dreamt a nightmare", you say and want to hit yourself for being a wuss.

"I will come up in a second."

He hangs up. You know that it takes him approximately seven minutes for him to get to your room from the staff's bedroom. You wait for him until he comes in, looking tired. Your first instinct is to apologize, but he's quicker.

"Are you okay?" he asks, sits down on his rolling stool and rolls over to the bed. He took your hand. "What did you dream about? Can you tell me?"

"I-I dreamt that I was dying, that- ... that I was being cut open on a surgical table", you whisper in a shaky voice."

"That sounds unpleasent indeed, I'm sorry-"

"I-I was calling for you."

"You were?"

Your eyes fill with tears. "You weren't there."

Dr Kry takes both of your hands in his, licking his lips nervously.

"I'm sorry, Y/N", he apologizes, even though it isn't his fault. "I'm sorry you had to experience that alone. You know that I would never let that happen. I'll always protect you. No one will be cutting in you as long as I am here."

You give him a small smile. Dr Kry smiles warmly.

"Don't worry, I'll sit here by your side and hold your hand until you fall asleep again, I won't leave your side for even a second. If you want, could I tell you a story?"

You nod.

"Yeah?" he smiles. "Perfect, just lay back, relax and squeeze my hand and I'll take you away to dreamland."

As a husband

You open your eyes and take a deep breath. You can feel him move beside you. His hands grab at your shoulders ever so carefully to turn you to him.

"Are you alright, dear?" he asks carefully and helps you sit up, putting a pillow behind your back. "Did you have a nightmare, again?"

You nod. After finding out that he was poisoning you and was, in fact, not the heroic doctor you looked up to, things have been odd.

"I can't stop thinking about what happened at the hospital", you whisper and lower your eyes. "I dreamt that I couldn't breathe ... and that I couldn't use my limbs ..."

He caresses your cheek, forcing you to look at his ice blue eyes.

"Everything is okay", he says firmly. "You are out of there. I will never do that to you again."

You feel your eyes water. He's lying, you know that. He might have stopped with his poisoned air purifier, but something is wrong. You're not well. He's still hurting you.

Dr Kry moves closer and hugs you, directing your face into his shoulder. He strokes your back, letting you cry in peace.

"My dearest", he whispers painfully. "Oh, it hurts me so to see you cry."

He moves back and wipes your teers with his thumbs.

"How about I make us some tea and get us something to eat?" he suggests.

You nod and sniffle. He lets you come with him down to the kitchen where he makes the two of you a sandwich and a cup of tea. When you're done, you go back upstairs. He stays up for the rest of the night to keep an eye on you where you sleep on his chest for the rest of the night.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor

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astrophileous · 6 months

Note

Hmmmmm for Hotch maybe him lowkey coddling reader when she gets hurt shortly during a case shortly after they start dating? Maybe the team wasn’t aware until they saw him fret this much when he had never done it to this level in the past? 🥹

Thanks for the request babes!! My first Aaron fic ever, so hopefully it's not too bad for a first 🥺 I hope this is to your liking ❤️

Warning(s): gn!reader, established relationship, talks of traffic accident, mentions of injuries, protective hotch, mean words (hotch is just worried abt you ok??)

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You heard him before you even laid eyes upon him.

Amidst the beeping machines and the moderate ruckus of the emergency room, Aaron's voice penetrated the air like a sword. The authority dripped like lava from his tone as he badgered Derek for your whereabouts, and before you could shuffle out of the hospital bed that had been your safe haven for the past hour, the cubical curtain surrounding you was suddenly yanked open.

Your movements ceased once you locked eyes with a frowning Aaron Hotchner.

"Hey—"

"Are you insane?"

You looked at him dumbfoundedly.

"Do you have a death wish? Is that it? Or are you just stupid?"

A few feet behind him, you could see Derek and Emily exchanging silent looks between the two of them. Everyone knew that Aaron was notorious for being frigid, and he had a strong impartiality when it came to any of his team members doing something impetuous on the field, but the words seeping out of Aaron's mouth at that moment sounded overtly harsh to those who knew him.

"Hotch—" Derek took a step forward, trying to come to your defense, "—it's not (Y/N)'s fault."

"I'm not talking to you." Aaron's response was cutting and final. It baffled Derek enough for him to trace his step back.

"What's wrong with you?" you asked once the shock dissipated, returning your voice to its rightful owner once more. "Why are you being like this?"

"Me? You're asking me? I should be the one asking you."

Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion. "We were chasing the UnSub—"

"You went rogue," he cut you off. "Morgan told me everything. There's no point in denying it."

Derek raised his arms in surrender when your stare of betrayal slid his way. "Fine. I'm sorry I grabbed a random civilian's bike and crashed it against the UnSub's car. You don't have to worry about paying anything back, I'll figure something out."

"Is that what you think this is about?" Aaron pinched the bridge of his nose. "I could care less about monetary compensations. We can deal with that later. You could've been killed, don't you understand?"

It was his last admission that finally made the pieces in your head click into place. Beneath the anger inside Aaron's words was actually a hidden anxiety ready to break free. He was worried about you, even if he was showing it in the least hospitable way possible.

Your relationship with Aaron was young; green around the edges and blooming every single day like tulips in spring. Nobody else in the world knew about it yet, and the two of you wanted to keep it that way. At least, that was what you agreed upon after having that lengthy discussion following your first official date.

And yet, none of that mattered when your fingers opted to reach out for Aaron's hand. You pretended not to notice the gasp that Emily let out as you urged your boyfriend to look into your eyes.

"I know you're worried, but I'm fine. I'm right here with you, and I'm okay." Aaron's shoulders physically collapsed at your reassurance. Every other noise in the hospital seemed to drown out in the aftermath. "The doctor's gonna clear me in no time, trust me."

"It still doesn't erase the fact that what you did was reckless." Aaron stepped closer towards the bed, overcrowding your senses as his thumb swept over your left eyebrow, just below the wound you had obtained from the crash. "Does it hurt?"

You shook your head no. The injury to your head was relatively minor. Your arm, on the other hand, was sustaining a quite sizable gash from your collision with the car.

Aaron's eyes followed your gaze that had meandered towards the gauze covering your arm. "How many stitches?"

Reluctantly, you answered, "Seven."

You heard his sharp breath before he turned around to face Derek. "Where's the UnSub now?"

Derek jerked his head to the right, where you reckoned the UnSub was being treated for their own injuries from the crash. The words of protest died in your throat as Aaron began to saunter to the other end of the ER with Derek hot on his heels.

With the two men's departure, Emily was the only one who remained.

"So—" she smiled knowingly, leaning against the foot of your bed, "—you and Hotch? When did that happen?"

You slammed your head back on the pillow, muffling your groan with your uninjured arm. "Shut up."

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lordgrimoire · 3 months

Text

So, an Idea, or AU I had regarding the good ol DPxDC.

I’m not sure what sort of disaster Amity’s ghost problem would be classified as, but think of what would happen if the local EMS (Emergency Services like Fire Departments, Law Enforcement, Emergency Medical, etc.) pretty much started jumping over the Mayor from the get-go? What if hard proof of these hijinx, for a brief time, were able to get out of Amity?

Well the Governor would probably have someone take a look, and once nonsense is confirmed (especially of its weird nonsense that looks a little to close to supers) they send in the National Guard, at first to keep an eye on the situation.

Then comes the Ghost Investigation Ward, and things go from moderately worrying to “WTF” real quick. And things start looking less Small Town USA and more Stalins Town USSR, at the height of Stalins Purges.

Admittedly it’s not immediate, and during the time between being put on “Indefinite Alert” and actually being relived this unit (I’m thinking a Battalion Sized force so about 1,200 soldiers/guardsmen total) ends up befriending the locals, and much to the Mayor, and GIWs, frustration, Phantom, as well as Red Huntress.

This leads to a standoff, the GIW can really only do what they want because of the Governments permission for them to do so, but engaging National Guard, who had not been federalized, may cause an issue or two. So they bring up the issue with someone who they think will back them up, their new boss Lex Luthor.

Now Lex isn’t a fool, but he figures out how the Justice League isn’t being called is due to a jammer the GIW set up and figures he can take a look around incognito like, or more accurately get trusted members of The Goonion, who he had Federally given approval to, to go take a look around.

When Alex gets the full story, and not just the GIWs original story but also updated info from the Doctors Fenton, who are now VERY worried, because they were wrong about Ghosts in more ways than they originally thought they may have been. Suffice to say, when Lex manages to get a copy of "The History of The Infinite Realms" and finds that Krypton's Afterlife is GONE, as in they did something similar to what the GIW is planning, he starts hitting the "Abort" Button with fury. Only to be told "Too late we're underway, we're going through a tunnel, what? What?" And now Lex decides Enough is Enough. Lex does two things, first he sends the GO order for the National Guard Battalion in Amity Park, then he starts trying to get a hold of the Justice League because "Listen I know you dislike me but I am willing to drop it all if you HELP WITH THIS BS THAT I JUST INHERITED!" Meanwhile back in Amity Things go from 0 to 100 faster than an Flash, that being the National Guard heard "GO" and immediatly started blasting. The Townfolks: Confused The Ghosts: Confused Team Phantom: Confused and Afraid The Ghost Hunters who are now studying Ghost Culture and the like: Very Confused and sorta getting Arrested. The GIW: Full of Bullet Holes, Screaming, and On Fire Meanwhile, The National Guard are waiting around two hours later with Phantom for any "Federal" News to come through: So the New President decided the Anti-Ecto Acts are BS, unfortunately they haven't been overturned yet so we're all most likely going to be marked as traitors. Mind if we hide out somewhere our bosses can't find us? Also the Justice League never actually knew any of the BS we've been going through, GIW Had some Jammer set up.

Phantom, Tired of all the damage and killing the GIW has caused in Amity Park: I'll try, but I'm not sure how much good it will do if the League shows up.

TLDR: Amity Park during it's entire run has a Battalion of US National Guard camped out in the outskirts/abandoned parts of town and they figure out most of the situation regarding Phantom not being the Villain Mayor Masters and the GIW Claim him to be. Following this logic they turned around and at the first opportunity attacked the GIW and pushed them out of Amity Park.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #dpxdc #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt

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edenesth · 3 months

Text

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🤭

I'm also shook that I'm like 20 followers away from reaching 1k! Thank you all so much; I just want you to know that it's your encouraging messages and replies that have been motivating me to update as quick as I can, really appreciate it!

As always, hope you enjoyed and let me know all your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/2): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina

Tag list (2/2): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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running-on-coffee-and-anxiety · 2 months

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Know what? I'm gonna try throwing my hat into the ring for Danny Phantom.

I accidentally electrocuted myself as a kid and never told anybody- nothing serious, I grabbed the three exposed prongs of a half plugged in laptop charger in the middle of the night and didn't want to get in trouble since nobody else was awake. Even if it isn't fatal, it's terrifying and your vision completely blacks out and your arm tingles for days afterwards, and for the whole day after you got shocked your fingers on the hand that grabbed the prongs will randomly twitch, open or close or jerk to the side. You have no control, it's like when the doctor hits your knee to check your reflexes.

Now, from what I can tell from the scene where Danny went ghost for the first time, he really was electrocuted. From what I can tell, his ghost and human halves seem kinda separate- not completely, but the change is there. Where is this going?

Danny never told anyone about the accident- not anybody that could help him, anyways. I propose that, since he never got medical treatment or physical/occupational therapy after the accident, his motor function deteriorates over time.

More specifically, his small motor function is effected- I will be using personal experience in this section, since my small motor skills were so bad I couldn't use zippers or tie my shoes until I was 12, but I'll try putting things in reverse.

Danny starts fumbling with tying his shoes, laughing it off as being tired. Buttons take a few minuets, and even snap buttons become a bit hard. Odd, mildly confusing, but nothing to be concerned about. Then it progresses. He can't properly use tools anymore, it's like nothing is ever precise enough, everything takes a few tries to get it right. His fingers are fumbling everything, his handwriting turns to chickenscratch that not even he can read at times, he struggles to comb his hair because it's hard to coordinate movements, his back teeth are always textured because he struggles to brush his teeth and he can't really reach the back ones properly anymore.

I don't know if this is connected to small motor or not, but he starts dragging his feet and the toes of his shoes wear out quicker because walking while lifting his feet any higher doesn't feel right. This was something I had fixed during occupational therapy, but I don't know if it was just me or not.

Eventually, it becomes sunlight-on-clean-pact-snow levels of blindingly obvious that something is incredibly wrong. Danny's hair is knotted and half-matted because he is unable to brush it properly, when he smiles there is plaque on some parts of his teeth and not others, he always wears slip-on shoes or his laced shoes are always untied, buttons always seem like they could unslip because they're only half-buttoned, zippers in his jackets getting stuck in shirts and he doesn't bother to fix it, teachers can no longer read his assignments and his friends can't read his notes. Nobody can ignore it, but nobody knows how to help when Danny gets so clearly frustrated when he has to do something with his hands and it just doesn't work. It seems like he suddenly developed a hole in his lip, since he always had to lean far over his bowl or plate to not end up on food with his shirt because his hands can't hold silverware steady.

But Phantom? None of those issues. He became a ghost after being electrocuted, of course. Why would there be damage from the initial creation of this half? It could be why he ends up enjoying fighting the ghosts, his hands actually work with him instead of against him.

Feel free to take this idea and do what you want with it, I really liked writing this!

Also if you use this for a fic, please comment the link if possible, I wanna see all the ways people use this :)

Edit: So I started a mini-series about this. Is it any good? Probably not, but writing makes me happy.

Noticed But Hoping For The Best

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dannyphantom #danny phantom headcanon

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leclerc-hs · 23 days

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tachycardia! pt. 1 - cl16

pairing: doctor!charles leclerc x nurse!reader (alpha/omega au) summary: in which you don't always get along with the arrogant alpha doctor warnings: LIGHT a/b/o dynamics, angst??, none really (yet!), badly translated french, NOT PROOFREAD word count: 1.7k author's note: hi so this is the first part!! I'm thinking about turning this into like a "blurb" series, like i'll do a bunch of parts with them but they won't be toooooo long. emphasis on the LIGHT a/b/o dynamics because i am STILL leaning all about it but I'm sure the more I write the better with it I will get. I def will discuss more about it during smut scenes. let me know what you guys think and what else you would like to see happen between them!! don't be shy!!! xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

IT WASN’T HATRED, per se, but more so the fact that you both knew how to get under each other’s skin so easily.

The amount of time it took for Doctor Leclerc to make some sort of asshole comment as you entered the doors of the hospital was little to none. It was almost a predetermined ritual at this point. So common that you should’ve been more concerned with the premise that he might’ve memorized your schedule just so it’s his face you see first thing every time you arrive to work.

You had made a solemn vow to yourself long ago never to become romantically involved with a doctor. Any doctor for that matter. The allure of dating a doctor might have seemed appealing in theory, but they tended to exude an air of pretentiousness, rudeness, and arrogance that left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Doctor Leclerc was what you would consider the living embodiment of this, a constant reminder of the vows you made in the first place. Yet, the fact that he was probably the hottest fucking man you have ever seen, made it hard to not want to blur the lines sometimes. His chiseled features and commanding presence were sometimes a magnetic force, no matter how much he annoyed you.

So, you wonder why, even as you’re leaned against the nurse’s station with an elbow propped on it, you can’t help but stare at the muscles of his back poking through his scrubs and white coat, as he pours a cup of coffee into his mug. His massive shoulders rising and falling as he picks the coffee pot up and places it back down.

“Did he say something to you?” You ask as you press a tissue into the hands of one of your co-workers, April. You didn��t know that well, but nurses stuck together regardless.

“I’m fine,” she says, but the tears welling up in her eyes, made you know better. “I just need to stop being so sensitive.” The words hang in the air, a fragile façade masking the turmoil within, and you recognize the weight of her emotions despite her attempt to downplay them.

“He must have been a proper douche,” you remark, the water from the bathroom sink running over your hands as you meet April’s gaze through the mirror. “What did he do?” Your tone carries a mix of concern and frustration.

Her hesitance to disclose wasn’t rooted in desire to withhold information, but rather in a reluctance to escalate the situation unnecessarily. Aware of your tendency to stand up to Doctor Leclerc, she treaded cautiously. You turned back around to face her, an eyebrow raised as if you’re saying spill the beans already.

“Well,” she begins, her grip tightening on the crumpled tissue in her fist, “all I did was ask if the symptom the patient was experiencing was a common side effect of the medication we prescribed her, just to be sure.” You cross your arms over your chest, you can feel the agitation growing in your chest. “He wasn’t mean in front of the patient, but he pulled me aside after and told me how unprofessional it is to be questioning in front of a patient.” Her voice wavers with a mix of frustration and hurt.

Your lips press into a thin line as she recounts the encounter. “He then told me that I should’ve paid better attention in school and then maybe I would know the answer,” she emphasizes, tinged with a hint of bitterness. The word “maybe” lingers in the air, weighted with insinuation, as if Doctor Leclerc’s implication stung deeper than mere criticism.

“What an alpha asshole!” you exclaim, your frustration evident in the forceful wave of your hands. “Don’t listen to him.” You offer her comfort, a smile of reassurance accompanying your words, a silent vow to stand by her side.

April’s lips curl upward into a small, grateful smile, her eyes softening as she murmurs a heartfelt “thanks”. In that moment, her expression speaks volumes, conveying both appreciation for your support and glimmer of relief.

You saw him before he saw you.

As you step through the doorway into one of your patient’s rooms, a pang of exasperation washes over you, accompanied by the silent question of what you did to deserve this particular form of punishment. It feels like a cruel twist of fate to find Doctor Leclerc attending to one of your patients, whom had just recently had a coronary angioplasty and a stent placement. Despite the urge to roll your eyes, you summon all your professionalism and force one of the biggest smiles onto your face. It’s a façade of warmth and cooperation, masking the internal tension brewing beneath the surface.

There he stood, a figure of authority on the opposite end of the bed, his arms folded across his chest as he chuckled at whatever anecdote your patient shared with him. His laughter, though genuine, seemed to echo with a hint of superiority. You can’t help but notice the subtle flex of his jaw muscles as his head tilts back briefly. The sight of his scruff and the contours of his muscular neck send a tingling sensation coursing through you.

You need to snap out of it! You repeat to yourself, a silent mantra echoing in your mind. You were so preoccupied with convincing yourself that Doctor Leclerc wasn’t unbelievably attractive that you failed to notice the scrutiny of two pairs of eyes now fixed upon you. The sudden realization jolts you back to the present, and you redirect your focus to the patient.

You didn’t need to glance at Doctor Leclerc to sense the presence of a smirk tugging at his lips; it was almost palpable, a silent acknowledgement that he had caught you staring at him. Distracted by him.

“Glad you can join us, mon lapin.” My bunny.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a flicker of irritation igniting within you. That forsaken nickname—he just couldn’t resist. Ever since your first day, when you innocently showed up with a tote bag adorned with colorful bunnies, he had taken great delight in teasing you with it.

“Ne m’appele pas comme ça.” Don’t call me that.

The patient looked up at both of you, eyes full of delight in entertainment.

His verdant eyes look at you for a few seconds, contemplating something, before looking back at the patient. “I’ll make sure you’re out of here in no time,” he assures the patient, his voice full of warmth. “I just need to check your vitals, and hopefully we can have you out here in a few days.” His words are reassuring, delivered with a blend of confidence and empathy that contrasts with the earlier tension in the room. Despite your reservations, you can’t deny that he provides great care for his patients.

“How has your medication been? Still uncomfortable?” You inquire, while Doctor Leclerc listens intently to your patient’s chest with his stethoscope.

“A little bit,” your patient murmurs in response, pausing between deep breaths as instructed by Doctor Leclerc.

“I’ll make sure you get another dose of aspirin to help ease the pain.” You promise with a tight-lipped smile as Doctor Leclerc removes the stethoscope from his ears.

“I think we need to reconsider the dosage,” you assert, meeting Doctor Leclerc’s gaze.

“We don’t want to risk any adverse effects.” His eyes, a much darker hue of green now, narrow at you, like he can’t believe you’re telling him what to do. “I’ve already adjusted his medication. It’s within the recommended for his condition.”

He shifts his focus back to the patient, the darkness and annoyance that once clouded his eyes now dissipating. “Everything is looking great! I’ll check on you tomorrow morning,” he reassures the patient with a warm smile before bidding his farewells. As he turns to you, nodding toward the doorway, his demeanor shifts, and a lethal glare meets your gaze. Without a word, you follow him out the room, bracing yourself. You refuse to cower, meeting his glare with a steely resolve of your own. Each step you take alongside him is a silent assertion.

His touch on your elbow sends a jolt of tingles to your stomach as he swiftly turns you around, your back now pressed firmly against the wall. His gaze pierces through you with a lethal intensity.

“Que pensez-vous faire?” What do you think you’re doing? He pinched the bridge of his nose in between his pointer finger and thumb, with his eyes scrunched as if he got a splitting headache in the span of one second. Like he was in pain. Did you know how strong you scent was? He wondered mindlessly, almost forgetting why he was so mad at you in the first place.

You thought nothing of his actions, too busy feeling the anger swell in the pit of your stomach.

Your eyes roll in exasperation, and your eyebrows knit together in annoyance at the audacity of this man.

His eyes meet your again and can’t help but think how beautiful you look, even when angry. How he would just love to bend you over his knee and remind you who is in charge.

“Je veille sur mon patient.” I’m looking out for my patient.

He rests his hands on his hips, stealing a glance at his beeping pager before fixing his gaze back on you. His eyes, nearly black, pierce through you. “Non, tu essaies juste de provoquer une dispute comme d’habitude,” You’re just trying to start an argument as usual. He grits through clenched teeth. “His medication is completely fine, et tu le sais!” And you know it!

So, maybe you were trying to start an argument with him. Especially after April’s crying face came to your mind.

He’s so close that you can hardly think around his scent. It’s almost intoxicating.

“Don’t ever make April cry again.” You jab your finger into his shoulder, reminding yourself why you’re here in the first place.

He blinks, and you catch the glimmer of recognition spreading across his features. “Elle n’a aucun courage” She has no spine. He remarks before continuing, “She should learn from you. You probably have spare spines.” He steps back from you before striding down the hallway in opposite direction of the nurse’s station.

No matter how annoyed you were, you couldn't peel your eyes off his muscular back until he was completely out of sight. You scoffed at yourself. How pathetic am I? You questioned yourself repeatedly until you take in his last words to you.

Did he just make a joke?

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

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reiderwriter · 4 months

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Unhappy Holidays

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're unlucky enough to run into Spencer Reid at holiday celebrations four years in a row. In the New Year, you're resolving to rid him from your mind forever, but you never were one to stick to resolutions 👻🦃🎄🎆

Warnings: SMUT 18+ minors dni, enemies to lovers, low-key work rivals, semi-public sex, car sex, hate sex, fingering, thigh riding, creampie, unprotected sex (no condoms but contraceptive mentioned), slight spoilers for s4 of Criminal Minds (but not really).

Prompt Request: #50"You're so fucking obsessed with me.” #82"Really? Because your pussy is saying something different, sweetheart.” #93"Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

A/N: This is my first submission for @imagining-in-the-margins November/December Office Party writing challenge! I'm sorry I've been so busy recently, but the holiday season really does take a lot of effort to get through at work lmao. Hopefully, I'll be able to post more over my vacation! For now, enjoy some very unserious smut~♡ (as if I write any other kind).

Here's a link to my masterlist, where you can find all my work!~☆

Working with the FBI was no walk in the park, which, from your desk at the opposite corner of the bullpen, Spencer Reid sure made it look like.

Working on adjacent teams for the last three years had become gradually infuriating. You were forever in the man's orbit, stuck dealing with the other women on your team sat giggling about him and his many stupid haircuts, and wondering just how far you'd fallen to have to stare at his stupid face 5 days a week.

If you were unlucky. His team did happen to be out on cases a lot more, whereas yours handled correspondence and consulting cases, a cushy and safe job.

It annoyed you to no end that you had multiple field-based qualifications, extensive fire arms training and were top of your class at the academy only to be relegated yo desk duty whilst boy wonder with his doctorates was allowed to trip over his own feet catching actual killers.

Other people wondered where your dislike of the man sprang from, and you could only let out a disgruntled squeak and tell them your horror stories.

A few months into your job, your been fresh faced and bushy tailed or however that saying goes, and overly eager to take any assignment that came your way. Even if the assignment was baby-sitting an injured Doctor Spencer Reid. He'd been shot whilst out on a case whilst trying to talk down an unsub, and you'd jumped at the chance to get to know him.

He was an office legend, of course, though those days it was more for his characteristic lack of social graces rather than the beauty he'd grown into. You'd been so eager to get to pick his brains, find out how he'd managed to score the position on the BAU at such an early age.

Reality had hit you square in the face when he'd spent a week ignoring you, making you run around like a headless chicken searching for hard copies of documents the FBI had digitised a millennia ago, and hadn't so much as spared you a glance.

The straw that broke the camel's back came as you were running back to him triumphant with a document he'd requested eight hours before and had let yourself into Penelope Garcia’s office quietly, only to hear him bad mouthing you.

“She makes me uncomfortable. I've had her out searching for useless files all day because I don't know what to do with her.”

“She's trying to help, Spencer, it's her job right now, cut her some slack.”

“Her job is currently getting in the way of mine. I even tried writing my own doctor's note so I could get rid of her, but Hotch wouldn't allow it.”

You'd dropped the file loudly on the table, watched the two spin around with horrified looks and turned silently and left the room.

He hadn't once tried to find you after that, and you let your apprenticeship under Doctor Reid quietly fizzle out as you got back to your regular work.

Your resentment still burned though.

Each time you'd been caught in the same elevator with him, you'd ignored him to an almost insane degree, enjoying the way he squirmed and tried to make small talk.

You'd been in contact with JJ and his Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner as well, through cases you'd recommended, but always maintained your cold shoulder.

The one place you could not ignore him, however, was a Penelope Garcia party.

After you'd slammed the file down on her desk, Penelope had guiltily sent you a gift basket filled with sweet treats and books, and had hounded you for a week to make sure your feelings weren't too damaged by her friend's stupidity.

You actually liked her, and found at least one silver lining to the storm that was Spencer Reid ripping through your life.

In the three years since the “incident,” you'd found yourself at three parties where Penelope in all of her heartwarming ways had tried her best to force a reconciliation between the two of you, to disastrous results.

The first was a Halloween party, and you'd been incredibly proud of your Princess Laia costume when you'd arrived. Only until you'd gone to the kitchen to top up your drink to hear Spencer Reid boring some guest or the other about how Star Trek was more advanced, and had a richer plot line.

Penelope had stepped into the kitchen just as he'd caught a glimpse of your (rather skimpy) outfit - yes, you'd chosen swimsuit Laia, yes, you were going to own it - and had immediately jumped into introductions, as if you weren't already intimately acquainted.

“Spencer! This is Y/N! She loves Halloween, too, she makes all of her costumes. You guys should talk.” She'd led the other guest away and left you there with Spencer as you'd awkwardly looked upon his own costume.

“Are you the Tenth Doctor?” You asked begrudgingly, noting his pin-striped suit and the shorter hairstyle he'd chosen.

“Are you a fan? I prefer the original show run more than the current stuff, but David Tennant has really been doing a wonderful-”

“I'm sorry, let me stop you there. I don't watch Doctor Who. I guess I prefer something with a… How should I say, richer plot?”

He'd snapped his mouth shut and didn't have chance to open it again before you turned dramatically and walked away from him.

The second party you'd been cornered into was just over a year later.

Having been stuck in the office over Halloween, Penelope was determined to get in one last celebration before Christmas steam-rolled every other holiday, and thus you'd been invited to her single-people-only-friendsgiving-potluck, and you'd found yourself having to navigate knocking on her door with a casserole dish in your hands.

Luckily a large hand had appeared from behind you and knocked on the door for you. Unfortunately, the sudden shock from the silent appearance of a man right behind you startled you so much that the dish fell straight from your hands anyway.

Penelope opened her door upon hearing the crash and you whirled on your would-be attacker.

It was Spencer again, eyes round in shock, hand still curled into a fist.

You took a calming breath as you gathered yourself, trying not to bite his head off. You wanted to scream and shout and rip his head out but you didn't, instead letting the fury drip into your voice as you finally opened your eyes again.

“That dish took me four fucking hours to make.” You huffed in anger once more as Penelope guided you into the apartment and poured you a glass of wine before you moved back to the entry hall to clean it up again.

Needless to say he didn't care to converse with you after that.

A few small parties in between had been blissfully Spencer-less and you'd lulled yourself into a false sense of security. That's when you accepted the Christmas party invitation.

As one of the unlucky few members of the FBI who had to stay out over christmas in case of some emergency or the other, you'd been grounded in Virginia, unable to travel home for the holidays. So Penelope Garcia's singles-only-Christmas-fun-time-Party was your last ditch effort to spend the holidays actually resting and eating good food.

Learning from last time, Penelope reassured you that there was no potluck, that she had prepared all the food herself, and all you'd need were a bottle of wine and a willingness to party.

You'd taken those recommendations as law and had immediately let yourself into a glass of mulled wine as you arrived, and - noticing that the party was Reid-free - had allowed it to raise your Christmas spirits slightly more than you usually would.

By hour two of the event, you were full of yuletide joy and swaying freely along to the tune of Silent Night.

Spencer’s late entrance really would have gone unnoticed by you had you not bumped face first into his chest as you spun yourself around in your dance, his hands quickly falling to your hips to steady you.

The few moments it took you to gather yourself were about as long as you needed to realised that he'd caught you in his arms underneath the mistletoe. And with your mind fogged by mulled-whatever-it-was-Penelope-mixed-into-that-punch, the part of your brain that objected to the very existence of Spencer Reid went silent, and the incredibly tiny and somewhat damaged part of your brain that instead saw him as attractive started shouting loud instructions.

Before your common sense could return, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes to kiss the very warm, very close man holding you upright.

“Mistletoe,” you muttered as you clawed his arms off of you and took yourself straight to Penelope's bathroom to throw up.

So yes, your acquaintance with Spencer Reid had never been good, and you were perfectly fine with resenting him from afar, privately.

With three years of bad experiences under your belt, you weren't excited at completing your yearly tradition of horrendous interaction. Which is perhaps why you immediately and loudly protested Penelope’s New Years Eve party invitation.

“Y/N, it's a party. What's the worst that can happen?” She pleaded as she followed you down the corridors of the office building.

“I could see Spencer Reid. I could be forced to converse with Spencer Reid. I could get absolutely wasted and kiss Spencer Reid. There, three options, please accept my resignation from partying.”

“Y/N we both know you don't drink anymore, so at least one of those is unlikely to happen. And Spencer might not even come, he has tickets for an indie theatre from 6pm onwards, they're playing some Russian movie from the 60s that's like 4 hours long or something. So u retire yourself and tell me you'll come?” She had to take three or four steps for each of your own, not that you were so different in height but because you were practically marching in order to avoid the topic.

But you finally stopped and let out a sigh as you turned back to Penelope who stopped just before she ran into you.

“You're sure he won't be there?”

“I'm sure he RSVP’d no.”

“Fine. But I'm not drinking and I will still be expecting the Penelope Garcia virgin punch experience.”

“Bring the party poppers and you have a deal.”

“Done.”

–X–

Over the week since you'd accepted the invitation, you'd made peace with it. For the most part, you did love a Penelope Garcia production. There was something wonderful about your friend and her ability to brighten anyone's mood, an ability that was only heightened at holidays. She was like a glittered goddess gaining power when worshippers used her altar, except the altar was her house and the worship was a range of hallmark-induced holidays.

You arrived at the party at 10pm, and though that was the start time you'd been given, you weren't surprised to see a full house of Penelope’s team mates already in attendance. Derek Morgan, Jennifer Jareau and Emily Prentiss sat spread across the sofa in the living room area, and you noticed a few techie friends also grabbing drinks and chatting.

“Y/N, I'm so glad you're here! You remember everyone on the team, right?” She pulled you into a hug and then sat you down in the middle of the group, waiting for you to mingle and become comfortable before she ran off to more hostess duties.

“Of course, nice to see you guys.” You grabbed your promised punch and sat back comfortably, striking up a conversation with Emily about how bleak the dating scene had been recently.

“It seems like all the men around me are jackasses,” Emily muttered and you giggled along.

“I'm wounded,” Morgan shot back, a hand pressed to his chest in faux pain.

“Good. You're like a lion out there in the clubs stalking gazelles, it's like watching a nature documentary when you're out there.”

You almost snorted your entire drink up your nose as Emily finished, needing to compose yourself for a second.

“I guess the men on our team aren't great with romance,” JJ laughed and took a swing. “Hotch and Rossi have four divorces between them, and Derek here is a lost cause.”

“Our only hope is young Spencer. May he grow into a respectful young gentleman and break out curse,” Emily toasted.

“Oh that ship has sailed,” your laugh this time was bitter, your mood immediately growing sour with even the smallest mention of Spencer Reid.

“Ah, Penelope mentioned you had a problem with our boy wonder. Care to share?”

You opened your mouth to give your standard non-answer and move the conversation along, but you were interrupted.

“Yes, Y/N, care to share? I am slightly curious about that as well.” You turned around and there he was, and your stomach turned in disgust.

Just one time, just one party. You'd been having fun, and here he was to ruin it.

“What are you doing here?” you gaped up at him, unsurprised to see him still decked out in sweater vest and slacks even in his down time.

“I was invited.”

“You declined, Penelope said you had movie tickets.”

“Ticket, singular. And it was cancelled so here I am. What's your problem with me, Y/N?” His jaw clenched and he grabbed the back of your chair and leaned down. It was supposed to be intimidating, but you rolled your eyes. When he looked that attractive, veins in his arms popping out of the sleeves he'd pulled up, you couldn't see him as intimidating. His arms were distracting yes, but God that was nothing compared to his thighs. His pants were tight, and you thanked whatever Clueless tailor had sewn them, because you now allowed yourself a momentary lapse to enjoy the appearance of his lower body.

You tried to shake the thought of his attractiveness from your mind, reminding yourself where you were and in what company.

“I don't think I need to answer that. I think I'll enjoy holding it over your head instead,” you said, standing up and beginning to gather your things.

“Wait, Y/N, where are you going? New Year isn't for another 30 minutes.” Penelope scrambled over and grabbed your hand, pleading with you to stay.

“I'm sorry Pen, but there's just this very annoying bug buzzing around me, and I think I need to get away from it.” You said your goodbyes and excused yourself from the party, happy to have walked away relatively undamaged.

Fate had other plans, and as you stepped out of the apartment building ready to walk yourself home, a hand caught yours from behind as a voice chased you.

“Y/N, wait. I'll go. You go back inside.”

“And return with my tail tucked between my legs after making a grand exit? I'll pass, thanks boy genius.” You shook yourself from his grasp and made to walk away again, but he quickly matched your pace and stepped into your path, cutting you off.

“I can't let you walk home. It's like 40° out here, and your coat is more style than substance.”

“Get into a car with a stranger? I'm sure you of all people know how stupid that sounds.” You stuck a finger out and poked his chest, but he grabbed your hand and held it in place as he spat out his next words.

“I'm not a stranger, I'm the man you're obsessed with, Y/N. Big difference.” You laughed, mostly in shock at his indignance, but he stared at your face as serious as could be.

“Me? Obsessed with you? I'm not the one who followed a woman they're barely acquainted with out of a party filled with all of my friends. Sounds like you're projecting, Spencer.”

“Am I?” He questioned, stepping closer and grabbing your hip as he continued his questioning. “I wasn't the one who was sat there talking about me with all of my colleagues.”

“Well, I wasn't the one who turned up to a party I'd declined an invitation to.”

He was imperceptibly close now, hand gripping your hip so tight you wondered if it'd leave you with a mark.

“I certainly was not the one who initiated a kiss last year, Y/N. You need to face the facts, you're so fucking obsessed with me.” If his hands had you feeling dizzy, his words were completely knocking the sense out of you. Suddenly you returned to the person you'd been under that Mistletoe, and everything from his closeness to the rough edge to his voice begged you to do it once again.

“Go fuck yourself,” was about all the words you could manage as he finally let his lips fall down and crush into your own.

You should've pushed him away, but instead your traitorous body wanted to prove his point, opening up for him faster than you'd opened up to anyone else before.

His tongue flicked against your lips and you gladly let him explore your mouth, opening up to tangle your tongue with his.

He tasted sweet, like the punch Penelope had handed you earlier, only now you wondered if someone had accidentally laced it with how free you were being with your affections.

He resurfaced for air, but you didn't care if there was nothing in your lungs at all if it meant that his lips would engage your own in battle once again.

“Look how much you want me,” he smirked. “Look how needy you are after a single kiss, chasing my lips like that.”

“You and your big fucking mouth. I wish you'd shut up once in a while.”

“I'll make it my new year’s resolution.” His lips joined your own again, and you clashed hard, exploring as much as you could muster as he pulled you in the direction of his car.

“I'm not driving… home… with you,” you growled between kisses, trying not to put your teeth to his neck and bite down hard. You're not sure if that impulse was a murderous one or a kinky one.

“I'm not putting you in the front seat, Y/N, I'm putting you in the back. You should be familiar with the idea.”

Heat sparked between your legs, and you allowed yourself to be manhandled into the beat-up trash heap of a car.

He'd not taken his hands off you as he got you in, pushing himself in first and then pulling you by the hand that you'd unconsciously gripped hard. You immediately straddled his hips, skirt naturally riding up in the process. He noticed and looked curiously down at you, growling as you pressed your lips against his neck and grabbed you instead by the hair gathered in a ponytail at the back of your head.

“See, you're obsessed with me. Just admit it.” Without breaking eye contact, he dug his fingers into the material of your tights and pulled in opposite directions, leaving your underwear exposed to his wandering eyes.

“I'm not obsessed with you,” your voice needed conviction to land, but it came out as a lusty whisper, especially as he slipped his fingers inside your underwear and finally touched your aching cunt.

“Really? Because your pussy is saying something else, Princess.” He found your clit faster than you'd ever expected, rubbing slow circles into your skin as you began rocking your hips back and forth.

It was becoming hard to disagree with him, with each flick of wrist growing the heat between your legs. You attacked his neck again, hands practically ripping at his top buttons so you could muffle the sounds of your arousal against his neck, collarbone, chest, any stretch of that pale skin available to you.

He forced your hips to a stop with one hand as he slipped a single digit inside of your hole, gathering your arousal as he set a steady pace, thumb keeping your bundle of nerves occupied.

“Listen, Y/N, can you hear that?”

“I can't h-hear anything.” You had to grind your teeth together to get the words out with minimal interruptions of moans bursting from the pit of your stomach.

He leaned in close to your ear, nuzzling your neck and placing chaste kisses up towards your ear, finally pulling away just enough to whisper a single word in your ear.

“Liar.”

His hand stilled and pulled off you quickly and your eyes broke open, hands unconsciously fitting into his shirt as if you were worried he was going to leave you there like this, on the edge of pleasure but still so far away.

“Use my thigh. You've been staring at it all night anyway.”

“Jackass. You've only been here for like 20 minutes.”

“You can climb right out of this car if you want to, Y/N.” He tried to keep his tone light, but the death grip he had on your thighs, the very obvious tent pitched in his pants and the way his eyes couldn't go five seconds without undressing you told you you had more power in this interaction than he wanted to give you.

There was no way either of you were letting the other go unused tonight.

You relaxed your grip on his shirt and shifted your weight to one of his thighs. Lithe he may be, but lowering yourself down there was an unexpected strength there. He watched on curiously as you rocked experimentally against him. Back and forth you rocked, trying desperately to keep up his momentum or tempt him to help you out again.

It was time to let your voice back out, and you did, moaning without a care as you hummed his leg like a bitch in heat.

“You're enjoying this lot, huh, Y/N,” he muttered, and you watched as his hand worked his pants zip open, removing one of the barriers in the way between the two of you, as he began palming himself.

“What's that saying? Anything you can do, I can do better?” He growled at that response but didn't stop you. Instead he bought a hand down on your ass as you moved, so hard you jolted at the sudden pain. Your eyes shot open as your hips stilled, but you felt warmth grow between your legs.

“Yes, you definitely enjoyed that. Should I do that again, or do you think we should hurry this up and go back up for the countdown?”

You hesitated only a second before you pushed his hand off his lap, shifting your hips further towards his knees before letting your hand reach for where his had just been.

You didn't let yourself think about how big he was as you pulled his cock free, didn't let yourself wonder how he measured up against anyone you'd been with before. You didn't let yourself waste time thinking about how various office rumours were true, and definitely not a second was wasted feeling jealous about how those rumours were spread in the first place.

Instead you simply slammed your lips back against his, mouth opening to let your tongue engage his as you lifted your hips with his help and lowered yourself down on him.

You didn't have to rid yourself of sinful thoughts after that as he purged every single brain cell from your head, filling you so contently that there was simply no space for anything but him.

You locked up on top of him, clawing at his shoulders as you whimpered at the stretched, falling so he was balls deep inside you. You wanted to move, to use him for your pleasure, but your walls tightened every time you even thought about it as he stroked your hair through it all.

It had been some time since you'd last had a sexual partner, and you needed the few minutes to overcome the first uncomfortable bliss of it all.

“That good?” he whispered, but the harsh tone of earlier was gone, replaced only by unsure humour to break the silence.

“Been a while.” He nodded, kissing you again to distraction as he shifted your positions.

Cradling your neck and securing your legs comfortably around him, he lowered you against the backseat, pulling out slightly as you adjusted to the new angle.

“Better?” You nodded quickly, because it was. There was no more pressure on your legs, and despite the cramped space in the car, you had enough space to lie almost flat.

“Yes… thank you.” Just as his cutting tone had escaped him, you also heard your own tone softening, the sigh of contentment slipping past your lips almost sweet. Almost.

“Are you going to fuck me now, or what?”

He let out a shocked laugh, but lent down to shut you up with a kiss nonetheless. Bracing himself against the car door, his hips softly rocked into you, pace increasing until you were back to the edge of cumming, nails pressed hard into his skin until you were sure he was going to complain.

He didn't though, but kept up his thrusts, until your vision suddenly darkened and stars exploded in them, rolled back in your head as they were.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, where should I…?” He panicked, but you wrapped your legs around him, grabbing him by the tie and pulling him down to swallow his moan as he shot his load inside of you.

“Birth control.” You whispered when you finally let him go, gasping for air. “Contraceptive pill. No need to get the car dirty.”

He collapsed on top of you then, forehead resting against your own as you both caught your breaths.

The moment was silent, and you found the synchronicity of your breaths almost calming. Eventually you had to break apart, and he helped you up to a sitting position, but didn't break eye contact as fell back into his lap.

His hands stroked your back, dipping to your ass at times, but he didn't talk. Neither of you did.

The eye contact between the two of you was possibly the most pleasant conversation you'd ever had.

“I'm sorry.” He blurted, just as fireworks erupted into the night sky. Your heart shook, and you weren't sure of it was the shock of the sound, or the way the rainbow of lights illuminated his sincere expression.

“You don't have to apologise for cumming in me, Spencer.”

“Not that. Before. The casserole and the mistletoe, and the Halloween costume.”

“Wow. Um, okay. Apology accepted, I guess, though I'm not entirely sure why you're apologising now.”

He took a deep breath just as another set of fireworks went up.

“I pulled you under the mistletoe. It was Penelope’s idea, she knew how stupid I was being around you and sent me over. I saw it and took the chance.”

“Fuck. Why?”

“Because I was pretty useless at being chivalrous the year before.”

You climbed off his lap in a scramble and sat on the seat beside him, mind racing, trying to figure out where the hell he was going with this.

He turned to you, trying to keep your attention as he stumbled over the words.

“You couldn't knock on the door, so I wanted to help you, but I didn't think I'd scare you so much you'd drop it.”

“You didn't scare me it was a momentary lapse in my observational skills.”

“You shrieked,” a smile threatened to pull his lips up, they twitched as you flushed red.

“And Halloween?” You looked at him again now, trying to figure out what the hell was going on between the two of you.

“You refused to look at me for a year after we stopped working together,” he shrugged quickly running a hand through his hair and expelling a breath. “I don’t really know how to talk to women.”

“You just know how to piss them off?”

“Morgan says it comes naturally.”

“Yeah, well, Morgan is very wise.”

A brief silence stretched between you, or as silent as a night full of cracks, pops, whizzes and bangs could be.

“I don't get it. You tried your best to get rid of me when I was there to help you. I wanted to impress you, and you kept sending me on meaningless errands, and now you're saying what? You wanted my attention?” There was a quiet anger to your voice, but you were surprised to find it diminished and tired.

“I wanted you gone because you were distracting me, Y/N, not because I hated you.”

“Well, what's the difference, Doctor Reid? Please indulge me.” You huffed a little but kept your eyes on him, trying not to seem too desperate for his answer.

“I have an IQ of 187. Emily says when I'm around a pretty girl it's more like 52,” he fidgeted with his pants, forcing the words out.

“You're a pretty girl. We had a case to work and all I could think about was how to get you to like me. Hotch chewed me out like three separate times for being absent minded.”

He was looking anywhere but you, trying his best not to appear like a fool but you were locked onto him.

“Oh my god you're an idiot.”

“When you're around, yes.”

“And that means I'm equally stupid.”

“No, you just jump to conclusions and hold grudges. There wasn't anything really that stupid about your actions, though it could be suggested that not thoroughly thinking through the wording of the conversation you overheard-”

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling him down again mlby his tie.

“Oh my god, shut up,” you whispered as you broke apart.

“Does that mean we can do this again? Because I'd like to do this again?”

“Stop talking, start kissing jackass.”

He finally didn't argue with that, pulling you back into him as you sat under the stars in his car welcoming the new year.

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