#I'M SORRY LMAO THERE ARE A LOT OF HOLIDAYS HERE

[morphids]

first off- happy holidays!! idk if this is something you’d be interested in but how about a pining assistant troupe with hange? i think it would be fun for reader to have a reiner-ymir relationship with moblit, constantly fighting for hange’s attention and stuff <3

give me all your attention, hange zoë

hi lovely, happy holidays!! this was so much fun to write thank you for requesting!! <3 hope you enjoyyy

summary: pining assistant!r x nb!hange

warnings: kinda sfw—suggestive themes, heavy makeout and a lil dirty talk, tension, lowk dominant hange, nothing explicit. unreliable narration sometimes (r is projecting on moblit a lot) moblit slander—sorry guys i love him really, r def has a hidden praise kink lmao, gendered nicknames towards reader, hange teases a lot, downbad behaviour.

wc: 3.2k

—

Life as Hange's assistant was stressful, to say the least. You think one of these days you'll have a cardiac arrest, the way they're so unbothered about jumping right into danger. Sure, there were worse jobs to be hired into, but it definitely wasn't easy. Hange made sure of that.

But more than that, you couldn't stand Moblit. He was a nice guy, and all, but you two clash a lot. Especially when Hange was in the picture. You'd think Hange had needed him all their life, the way he jumps on the chance to do anything for them. Always doting, chasing them around like a good little labrador. It was sickening, to be honest.

You glanced up from your clipboard, eyeing the way that Moblit brought Hange some dinner, as they hadn't eaten theirs yet. Would've been a nice, caring gesture— except that you had already made extra dinner earlier and boxed some away especially for Hange to eat. Out of all the meals you cooked, that one had been Hange's ultimate favourite. He would've known if he'd bothered to ask, instead of taking it upon himself. You hated how eager to impress Hange he was. Hated Hange's reaction even more, like he was God's gift to their stomach. Ugh.

Both of you were Hange's assistants, having been hired around the same time. So a few years had passed of this little rivalry with each other. You wondered what his motivations were. Why he was as desperate to please as he was.

I mean, your relationship with Hange was so different to theirs. Could he not see that? It's not like all the responsibilities fell on him. If it was up to you, he'd be stuck doing all the paperwork whilst you had the more... hands on jobs that needed doing.

"Dear? Could you come here for a sec?" Hange's voice broke you from your entranced thoughts. You made your way over to the two, tucking your clipboard underneath your arm. Hange seemed to always call you names like that, during the first few weeks of working you worried that they actually just forgot your real name and wanted to cover it up with an easy-to-remember pet name. Then months later, you realised they just seemed to have a proclivity for referring to you in that way.

It flustered you sometimes, made you wonder if that was the reason Moblit didn't seem to take you seriously and seemed to have it out for stealing jobs away from you. Always puffing his chest like he can do everything under the sun. It just seemed to be a quirk of Hange's, though, they never seemed to mean anything by it, always remaining professional. They must just really like nicknames?

"Yes, Hange?" You'd been conditioned to not use their title over the years, Hange seemed to hate that—weeks of correction every time 'Commander,' came out of your mouth.

"I need you to re-check these test results for me—something isn't right, I need fresh eyes."

"Oh, I can do that for you Hange," Moblit spoke, eyes eager as he awaited a new task, even his spine straightened out a little more.

"That won't be needed, Moblit, I'm perfectly capable." You narrowed your eyes at him, voice terse, there he goes again, always trying to take jobs away from you, what an asshole. Does he think women aren't able or something? 

Clearly, your glare hadn't been as internal as you intended, as Hange side-eyed the two of you before shoving their slacking glasses tighter up the nose bridge, then clapping their hands together.

"Anyway, I'd need it by tonight, so bring your findings down to my office when you're done, dear." They smiled down at you, warm and gentle.

"Sure, Hange." You nodded as they walked away, leaving you and Moblit stood awkwardly side by side. Moblit looked you up and down, with a vague face.

"Need something?" You bit out, increasingly getting more annoyed. It had been like this since you both started, but it was becoming worse. Your patience was wearing thinner and thinner as he was getting more absurd with his actions. You often wondered if Hange noticed the growing animosity between their two assistants, and actively chose to not get involved, or if they hadn't even noticed at all.

Moblit cleared his throat, looking down at his shoes now.

"Nope,"

"Great, I'll get started on the analyses."

Moblit nodded curtly, moving aside so you could make your way to the desk to do your work.

—

A few hours had passed, your neck was crooked and sore from having been craned towards paper for the afternoon. It took ages to realise what the problem in the test results had been, and then you finally spotted it.

Oh, you were so gonna kill him.

Etched in Moblit's handwriting, was the incorrect recording of two variables. Making sure your tired eyes weren't being deceitful, you flicked between the two sheets again, the one Hange had drafted for the hypothesis plan with the correct variables, and Moblit's, which was supposed to have it all recorded, properly.

He must've misread the numbers, transcribing the data wrong and fucking up the whole experiment.

Idiot, you thought, sighing. You leaned back into your chair, relieved to have found the error in the results, at least it could be fixed now. Sitting up from your seat, you compiled the work together into a pile and took yourself to relay it back to Hange.

Knocking on the door, Hange's voice rang from the other side of the wall, before cracking the door open. Once seeing it was you, moving to the side to let you in, eyes glimmering as you entered.

"Come in, dear, we were just chatting."

Moblit was in there, too. How great. Well, looks like you'd have to do this with him there.

"I found the error," You muttered, placing the sheets down on Hange's desk.

"Ooh! I knew I could count on you - what was it?" Hange excitedly beamed, sipping on some coffee that you just knew Moblit had brought. He's never brought you any, always just the two cups.

"Well, ask Moblit," you chuckled, maybe it was a good thing he was here, so you could see the look on his face, "He marked the variables wrong, it confused the outcome of the experiment."

Meanwhile, Moblit was mortified.

"Wha—", his mouth slightly hung open as he frantically grabbed the sheets to check for himself. Sighing as he saw that you were, in fact, correct. There it was, his mistake written right in front of his face, mocking him.

"I'm sure it happens all the time," You muttered, just not by you, or Hange.

"I'm sorry, Hange! It won't happen, again!" He bent his neck down with shame, Hange only laughed, shaking their head.

"Don't worry, Moby! It can happen to anyone— at least we know, now!"

As much as you hated to admit it, you couldn't have expected Hange to berate him, not for an honest mistake. Yet, a callous part of you wished they had. Chastised him for his error ruining the experiment, wasting hours on a test that was never going to be executed correctly. Scold him for always acting like he was above you, only to fuck up now. But you knew they were too nice for that, it's what you respected about Hange.

"We'll run it properly tomorrow, right, dear?" Hange beamed, brown eyes shining at you through their specs as you found your anger simmering.

"Of course, Hange," They nodded, pleased.

It wasn't long until Moblit excused himself, leaving Hange's office whilst the remnants of shame fuelled his steps. You were about to follow suit, facing towards the door until Hange spoke, stopping your steps.

"Dear? I wanna speak to you,"

Your stomach sank, fuck. What if you were going to get scolded? As far as you were aware, you hadn't done anything wrong. Sure, they didn't scold Moblit, but that had been an easy mistake. What if something you did was so reprehensible that they would? Maybe Hange had grown tired of the way you were towards Moblit— but just because you were vocal about your irritation, doesn't make Moblit anymore innocent. He's the one that started this, always trying to one-up your achievements and helpful nature.

Turning yourself towards them, you failed to meet eyes. Feeling your nerves increase as you feared the worst, plucking at the skin around your nail beds.

"Don't look so scared! I just wanted to say thank you,"

Looking up at them, you faltered, Hange stood right in-front of you.

"What for?"

"Finding the error! It was driving me insane, honestly, I can't believe I missed it," Hange joked, rubbing their forehead, "Must need a nap,"

"Oh...of course, y-you asked me to,"

"I did," Hange came closer, "That doesn't mean you'd find it, though— I must've looked at that report a hundred times and didn't catch it."

"So well done!" They beamed, "You always do what I ask of you, dear—so well, too."

Hange's arm raised to bring a hand down to your arm, squeezing it affectionately.

Your breath caught in your throat, Hange's praise and the contact seemed to have made your brain go a little silly. A lot, silly, in fact. You could just feel your cheeks warm, the implications of their words used in a different context short-circuited your head.

"T-Thank you, Hange, I'm glad I could help," An attempt at retaining strong, retaining dignity and professionalism. You hoped it worked.

"You always help, dear, just try not to give Moblit such a hard time about it, okay?"

Well, that ruined that. Any sense of pride you had just gotten immediately crushed. Hange must've caught the way your face hardened, the way you began nibbling the inner skin of your lip with your teeth, holding back resentful words at your lips puckered out.

"Look, you don't have to be best friends— I know he isn't innocent, either, okay? But I'd rather have my two favourite assistants get along!"

You stared at them, with an 'are you kidding' expression coated on your features. Heck, you had tried getting along with him. He was the one who made it into a competition of who could please Hange the hardest. Constantly prying their attention away from your impressive feats.

Yeah, okay, fine, time to cut the bullshit— you had realised that you had perhaps, a little, teeny crush on Hange a while back. Heart fluttering too much at their praise, their soft way of speaking to you, the way they were so affectionate or had no qualms about rubbing your arm if you'd done a good job, making sure you knew just how much you had been of help.

You craved it. You craved more of their attention like an addict and craved to impress them, to hear those sweet praises as they smiled at you with those warm eyes and enticing smile. Like you were so good, so smart, useful. Had been the best damned assistant that could preemptively predict what Hange would need.

Especially, in the scientific sense; working hard late at night to write the best damn reports they had ever read. Making sure to help think of clever alternatives for an experiment gone wrong. You were damn good at your job. That's why it pissed you off when Moblit decided to keep shitting on your parade, purposefully outshining you so that he looked like the knight in shining armour.

It wasn't like Hange picked favourites, in fact, they seemed a little oblivious to his ways. Thanking him just as they thanked you, with just perhaps a little less skin-ship. And a little less petnames, the things that made your heart race and stomach flip.

At least you knew your reasonings for this—what were his?

But, Moblit had definitely noticed, the way Hange's professionalism seems to falter a little bit when you were around. Definitely noticed when you both stayed in each other's presence more than was deemed necessary, the way Hange's eyes brightened as they spoke to you.

He thought he could never compete with that, not in the professional sense anyway. He'd made it his mission to try and outshine you however he could so that he wouldn't get left behind in tasks, all due to his Commander's potential sweetened feelings towards you. He'd never have any work if Hange just gave all the good work to you! Truthfully, though, by the time he noticed Hange's...affections for you hadn't impacted the way any of you worked, hadn't picked favourites - it was too late to stop the competitiveness. Too late for the animosity between the two assistants to halt.

"Hange, we would get along if he wasn't hellbent on ruining my career!"

Hange cackled, covering their mouth at the dramatics,

"How does he ruin your career, my dear?"

Ignoring the new addition to the nickname, you continued, having held it in for so long it all just came pouring out.

"He steals all the good jobs, acts better than me even though he messes up experiments, feeds you food even though I made you the dinner you like,"

Yup, you were definitely going off-track, but it was too late to stop the rambling, the box had been opened.

"He follows you around like a puppy, brings both of you coffee—always failing to bring me one! Doting on you like—" You cut yourself off, once you caught the look on Hange's face.

Amused and mirthful, front teeth pulling back a bit on the side of their lip as they listened to your rant. Arms crossed as they looked down at you, eager brown eyes bright and glimmering, wanting you to keep going.

"Why does that bother you so much, huh?"

"It's just annoying—he acts like your boyfriend." You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest, as you looked to the side.

"Well, he's not, we all know that, dear."

"Does he know that?"

Hange gaped at you, a playful expression glazing over their eyes, a gentle smirk tugging on their lips.

"Don't worry, pretty, you have all of my attention."

Meeting their eyes, your stomach flipped, a tension in your abdomen at their words. Pretty? That's a new one. You hated the way it sat in your stomach, making your mind sink to dark, dark places. The words in your throat were caught, trapped as you couldn't find in yourself to respond eloquently.

"Yeah right." You knew you were being unreasonably bratty, especially to your superior, but you couldn't care at this point. Deciding to just spew it out.

"Why don't I show you, then, hm?"

Hange unfolded their arms, grabbing your elbows and pulling you close to them.

"What—"

"ssh—told you, 'm gonna show you,"

Hange moved your arms to rest around their shoulders, their own coming down to wrap around your waist.

"What does that mea—"

"It means," Hange was losing patience, "Let me show you how no one else is stealing my attention away, pretty girl."

Hange was inches away, eyes down to your lips, as one hand reached up to thumb the skin on your jaw. Your plump lips split, shallow breaths escaping as your pretty, doe eyes stared up at them, dilating to reveal a darker pool of black in your pupils at Hange's closeness. Mind reeling at how close Hange's fingers were to your throat.

"They never did, dear, my attention was always yours."

Their lips almost touching yours, your brows tilting up slightly as their words. Almost hesitant, what if this was a trap? An insanely well-thought, long planned trap from Moblit, get you to admit your feelings and then humiliate you.

"You were always just so good, doing everything I asked you," The paused, the hand at your waist tightening its grip on your sides, "'N you do it all so well, pretty girl."

"Y'can't possibly think I was never impressed with you, hm?"

Hange's mouth reached your ear, lip grazing your earlobe as shivers went down your back, "All you needed to do was walk into the room n'Im impressed, dear."

"So I’m asking you, will you let me show you?"

You nodded, biting back a low whimper as Hange's lips moved away from your ear to the front of you, hand at your waist still strong, and the other tugging at your jaw, grabbing you a little bit harder, dragging your skin as they pulled your face closer, your eyes fluttering as they moved you.

"Yeah?" They smiled, a gentle, soft smile. Voice teasing, almost mocking, like they knew exactly what they were doing to you—it's not like you were hiding it well, "You'll let me, pretty girl? Need t'hear you say it,"

All doubts left your mind, that craving returning with full force as your mind turned to mush, incoherent thoughts, all you could make out was that craving. That desire that had been eating up at you over the years, Hange’s sweet praise leaving you feeling floaty.

"Y-yes, Hange,"

With the confirmation, Hange pressed their lips to yours, skin finally touching skin. The warmth of their mouth encompassing your own, as you allowed yourself to melt into their kiss. Surrounded with Hange, your chests pressing together as you hands grabbed at the back of their neck. Impossibly close, yet you still craved to be closer.

The sound of lips smashing against each other filled the room, the mutual desire would be heard clearly to anyone who walked in. Heavy breathing through noses as you sighed into each other.

Hange separated your lips to murmur against you, in between shorter pecks, “Been waiting to be able to kiss you,” They breathed out, voice rasped and low, “Waiting this whole time,”

“Hang—“ Your whimpers were cut short, swallowed as Hange connected your lips again, the kiss starved and ardent. Hange’s grip on your jaw was unbelievably tight, helpful considering it was getting harder to hold your head up, truly weakened.

Hange moved your bodies around, the back of your thighs meeting the line of wooden desk, as they leaned you up against it. The hand from your waist reaching down to lift your thigh up on the wooden slab, letting you lean your weight back on it as they placed themselves comfortably in between your open legs. Your thighs tightened around them to keep them close, shivering at the contact of them pressing up against you. Hange’s hands grabbed at your thighs, feeling as much skin as the clothes on your legs would allow, fingers kneading against the fabric, wishing they could feel you without the layers.

“Taste so sweet, dear,” Hange groaned against your lips, “Makin’ me wanna do bad things,” Hange’s lips were plump and flushed, solid evidence of the feverish kissing as you imagined your own weren’t any better off.

“Makin’ me wanna take you right here,” Hange’s words incited you, propelled you deeper into impropriety as you responded, words breathy and full of want.

“What’s stopping you then?”

—

…welp 🫣

[hopefulhaunted]

Juzo grits his teeth and glares at the girl before him, as if he's hoping the anger he feels will somehow stop the pounding of his heart in his chest.

He knows, logically, that she's not done anything wrong yet. With everything he's learned, the existence of the brainwashing videos and Yukizome's own turn to despair - it's possible that even those kid's despair wasn't actually what it seemed. But it's too soon to declare them innocent, either.

And anyway... he doesn't think he'll ever stop hating them.

"What do you want?" he spits out the words, feeling sick with rage. Even though he knows that this might be a good chance to get some information, to do anything but let his emotions take over... he can't seem to control himself. It's always been that way with him.

"I'm a busy man. You'd better make it quick."

@hopeds ( starter for hiyoko! )

[ghoulphile]

janey's dad | c.h./the ghoul | part 01

➥ pairing | cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader ➥ word count | 3.7k ➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; age gap, hair pulling, teasing, making out, mutual pining, lipstick kink, stockings, frottage, porn w/ feelings, porn w/ plot, mild angst w/ happy ending, divorced!coop, babysitter!reader, pre-war/bomb ➥ summary | “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --” ➥ notes | i'm so sorry this is later than it should be. i am unfortunately a corporate slave and this fic just did not want to cooperate 🫠 there are a lot more things planned and this fic is turning into a bit of a beast (20+ pages and counting rip lmao) so i've decided to split it into two parts to make it more manageable for myself mostly un-beta'd atm a special thanks to @corinthianism for all her lovely help ❤️!!

feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | masterlist

Divorce is hard, but being a divorcé is downright hellish.

One of the ugliest things in the world, if Cooper Howard has any say. At least when he was a Marine, they told him where to point his gun, where to aim; nameless threats vanishing with a quick squeeze of the trigger.

Here, these ‘enemies’ aren’t enemies — not really.

It’d be easier if they were.

Worse still, they have names he holds as dearly as his own. There’s Barb, whip smart and always so clever. Then Janey, the light of his life and so sweet his teeth ache.

Once upon a time, life was sweeter than apple pie on Sundays.

Then came the separation.

Afterwards, he finds it hard to look at what’s left of his family without losing breath like a horse kick to the chest. Their absence rips open a hole inside him ten miles wide, its edges jagged and wrong.

And when he can’t take the silence anymore, fingers of malt liquor help dull the ache, though it’ll never be enough to mend what’s broken.

See, war’s something he understands.

But these domestic battlefields where he sits across from his ex-wife while lawyers barter this weekend and that holiday?

How he struggles to meet his daughter’s eye every time she asks if he’s coming home?

When Barb keeps the house and the money while he keeps the scrapbooks and the dog?

He doesn’t — can't — refuses to comprehend.

Because in what world can you reconcile looking down the barrel of a smoking gun only to find the woman you love staring back, finger on the trigger? Left out to hang as Vault-Tec orchestrates his downfall.

The true depth of their involvement is unknown, but it’s no coincidence his bank accounts dried up faster than the Mojave in June. The ink still wet when the media snapped up the story of his failed marriage.

Thus, his reputation (rather what’s left of it) unraveled faster than a spool of thread.

Knocked on his ass and kept there by a boot heel crushing his windpipe. Whose? He hasn’t got a fucking clue.

But whoever they are, they’re making sure he stays a washed up nobody who struggles to land a call back, much less pay his monthly alimony on time.

See what we can do? You were America’s favorite gunslinger - now look at you. Mind your place.

Hell, millions used to scream his name.

Nowadays people whisper it behind their hands like a dirty secret, “Oh, did you hear? Cooper Howard…” as they dissect pieces of his life into bite-sized Before’s and After’s. “Hah! Serves him right. Y’know, I never liked him much.”

While he grits his teeth and swallows his bitterness with a smile, he hates how he can’t protect Janey from snide reporters and nosy strangers. Juggling actor-father-divorcé with fumbling hands.

It’s only been six months; a heartbeat, a lifetime, and already he’s scraped thin like butter over too much bread.

Something’s gotta give.

After all, he’s only one man.

But just when it's bleakest, the clouds part.

A young woman moves in next door, the first bright thing that’s come his way in a long, long while.

At first, he kept his distance.

Exchanged vague hello’s and how-are-you’s. Then Janey took a shine; always so friendly and eager to talk about her latest books.

Any reservations he might’ve had died when he saw how enamored you are with her.

Only made sense that over time small pleasantries turned into playdates. Then those playdates turned into sleepovers.

Before long, you’re watching her when a gig runs late.

Rustling up grub and tucking her into bed more often than not these days. And when he slinks in through the door, knees aching and stripped to the bone, there you are with a shy smile and a warm meal.

So what if he takes himself in hand after you leave, stroking his cock to the thought of you down on your knees in that pretty little sundress?

Imagines the wide stretch of your ruby lips as you swallow him down, lipstick smeared an awful mess?

Cums hard to the fantasy of your teary eyes and hiccupy breaths as you choke?

What you don’t know can’t hurt you.

After all, he’s a gentleman... he promises to keep his hands to himself.

“All right, Sugar Bomb, it’s bedtime.”

Bundled in navy bedding up to her nose, Janey’s wide brown eyes peer up at you from beneath a riot of frizzy curls. Roosevelt, her ever faithful companion, plasters himself to her side. The tip of his tail swishes once, twice before falling limp.

“Ah, c’mon guys. Don’t look at me like that.” You sigh with a fond shake of the head, hip popping out to rest against the doorframe. “I don’t make the rules, I just follow ‘em.”

A muffled response sounds from the lump of little girl, “Nmfhm.”

Squinting, you dip your head and tap the side of your ear, "Pardon?"

“Mnhfmmmm.”

“Ye—eah… Didn’t catch that, Mumbler.”

Janey tugs down the blanket, her mouth pursed in a moue of displeasure. “I said,” she crosses her arms with a huff, “not until Dad gets home.”

Shit.

“M’sorry, baby. He’s still gonna be a while.” Walking across the room, you stop beside the bed and motion your hand back and forth. “Scooch over.”

Gangly limbs fumble as Janey wiggles into the middle of the mattress, her feet tangling in the blankets. Roosevelt takes a toe to the nose during the transition, but flops across her knees all the same.

Together they settle with a bounce of springs.

In the open space, you slide in.

The bed sinks under your weight, a plume of rich cologne tickling your nose; mint-spiced citrus. Cooper. Your stomach swoops, and your heart trips.

“I didn’t see him at breakfast — or lunch!” A pout tugs at her mouth. “Not even dinner. I gotta go home tomorrow. So when am I gonna see him?”

“Oh, bug.” You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbow. “Your dad’s been real busy at work. And I know that’s been hard for you, but I promise to make sure he’s here for breakfast tomorrow.”

“D’you mean it?” Her cold nose digs into your skin. “Me and Roosevelt miss him so much.”

Cuddled into your chest, Janey tosses an arm around your back. Her fuzzy head rests in the crook of your arm, springy curls tickling your skin.

You squeeze her tight and trace your fingertips over her forehead.

“I can do you one better,” you say, bopping the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle - a soft sound that sits warm and gooey in your chest. “I pinkie-promise.”

Her finger loops around yours, so small and fragile.

“I’ll even make pancakes. How’s that sound for a promise?”

“Oh, yes, please! I think Dad will like that,” a wide yawn cuts her off mid-sentence. “He’s sad, but he always smiles when you make food.”

Janey’s words — unexpected as they are sudden — cut so deep it steals the breath from your lungs. You flounder, your heart a throbbing bruise in your chest.

“... Then pancakes it is.”

As if nothing happened at all, she asks, “Do I have to go to bed now?”

“Afraid so, little miss.” Your responding chuckle sounds stilted even to your own ears. “Just you wait. When you wake up, Dad’ll be home.”

“Fi—ine, but I want extra pancakes.” Janey pauses, considers you with narrow eyes, then adds, “With syrup!”

“Whatever you want,” you say with an indulgent smile. “Now... time to sleep. It’s really past your bedtime.”

She gives you one last squeeze then lets you tuck her in nice and tight, blankets pulled up to her chin. You drop a kiss on her forehead while Roosevelt re-settles on the pillow beside her after a quick scratch behind the ears. 

Everything in order, you turn to go only for a little hand to stop you.

“Yes?” you reply, glancing at her from over your shoulder.

“... can you put on one of Dad's movies?”

The tremble in her voice - like she’s about to get scolded - breaks your heart clean down the middle. Stitching on a soft smile, you nod and walk to the darkened TV set in the room's corner.

After fiddling with the nobs, static flashes to life.

“The Man from Deadhorse okay?”

The holotape sliding into the track swallows the sound of her tiny “Yeah.” Starting up with a whirl of machinery, the second-hand Radiation King flickers to life in black-and-white.

A vast plain and bright sky stretches across the screen.

Then Sugarfoot creeps into frame with the one and only Cooper Howard sitting astride the noble steed. The sheriff’s badge on his chest glints in the sun.

“Thank you,” she mumbles, already half-way to sleep.

“Anything for you, baby. Sleep tight.”

Flicking off the lights, you leave the door cracked. Walk away pretending like hearing her whisper goodnight to the TV doesn’t lance through you like lightning.

The desire to whisk her into your arms and soothe all of her ails is almost impossible to ignore.

Somehow, you distract yourself by wiping up the table, then by fixing a plate of dinner for whenever Cooper rolls in. Though all the while, how brokenhearted Janey sounded sits in the back of your mind like a leaden weight.

When Cooper stumbles into the living room, it’s half past midnight.

You’d gotten up to greet him, curled as you were in an armchair reading, when something about the stern line of his mouth gave you pause.

Where the usual lighthearted greetings lingered, a pensive stillness trembled to life.

Tension crackles through the air; a held breath of agitation. By the faraway gaze and defeated slump of his broad shoulders, it’s plain to see the night didn’t go as intended. And no matter how much you long to soothe, you can’t.

After all, he’s not yours to touch.

Instead, you offer a sympathetic smile and ask, “Rough night, huh?”

Cooper ignores the prompt, squeezing past with a brief touch to your elbow as he makes a beeline for the dry bar. The heat of his body is there and gone in a flash, his cologne teasing your senses. He says, “Thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Your heart flutters in your throat. “Ah,” you lick your lips, “well, I was going to finish my chapter first.”

Humming, he turns his back to you and fiddles with high balls and decanters. The tink of crystal glassware fills the air as he speculates which alcohol goes best with his mood. 

“Thanks again for watching Janey.” He nods in approval and fixes his whiskey neat. “I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble, Mr. Howard.” You shrug. “She’s a sweetheart.”

He shoots you a dry look from over his shoulder, stirring the dark amber of his drink with a forefinger. When he sucks his skin clean with a soft pop - a flash of a pink tongue taunting, teasing - your stomach swoops.

God, I wonder what else his mouth can do.

Flustered, you clear your throat and stare at a spot on the wall.

“How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Coop?” he says, digging through some drawers until he finds what he’s searching for: a lighter. “It must be a million and one by now.”

Flint sparks as flames jump, eating away at the end of a cigarette. Cooper inhales in short little puffs, pulling on the filter. His cheeks hollow, the shadows enhancing the cut of his jaw before the tip catches alight.

“Well,” he exhales, his gaze catching yours through a plume of smoke as he turns, brow raised. “Anything to say for yourself?”

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you chuckle.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided smirk. “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks back the last finger of whiskey before refilling with gin.

Springs groan in protest when he drops to the couch, settling in with an outstretched arm and wide spread thighs.

“It’s been a long fucking day,” he rasps.

Gulping, you try to ignore the space at his feet.

The stirrings of desire provoked by the urge to sink to your knees and fill it with your body, to ease tension from those shoulders with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — if he’d let you.

“You heading home?” Nursing the fresh drink, he swallows a mouthful, only to hiss low through his teeth at the chemical burn. His throat bobs, framed by the open collar of his shirt. “Whew! Goddamn, that’s strong.”

“No, I can stay for a while.” A bird on a wire, you perch on the cushion beside him. “Got nothing else planned for tonight, anyhow.”

Cooper snorts. “I doubt that very much. A sweet young thing like you,” he motions towards you with his glass, “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of fellas calling, especially on a Friday night. Don’t waste your time with me.”

“That’s not why I--” you stop yourself short.

Save for the bustling LA avenue right outside the complex, the apartment itself is stone silent for several heartbeats. Words hover on the back of your tongue, catching in the bend of your throat molasses thick.

Meanwhile, Cooper continues to swirl the alcohol in his glass.

Maybe in a different life, you wouldn’t hesitate to express yourself.

But here — with him — you shouldn’t.

Christ sake, he’s a grieving divorcé, you chastise yourself. The last thing he needs is me trying to lay one on him.

When you speak, his name glides off your lips for the first time, clementine sweet, “... Cooper, I’m not wasting my time. I enjoy spending it with Janey - and you.”

“Well,” he husks, hooded eyes dragging down your visage in a slow once-over, “you’re the first one in a long while to feel that way, sweetheart.”

Dripping like honey whiskey from Cooper’s lips, the simple phrase burns its way down-down-down until it blooms like liquid fire in your belly. Warms you all the way to your toes as your heart pounds against your ribcage.

“I mean it.” Your knuckles twist in the pleats of your sundress, bolts of blue fabric bunched around your knees. “Everything I do is because I want to.”

The flash of red nails plucking at the sheer nylon of your stockings snaps up his attention, his gaze snagging - staying as he chases the curve of your exposed leg, hungry.

He wets his lips, and tenses his jaw when he spots how the soft fat of your thigh dimples in because of your garter. “That’s awful sweet of you to say.”

You tremble beneath the intensity of his attention.

Greedy.

Little kisses of awareness spark bright along the path his eyes carve like the caress of shy fingertips.

However, before you’re able to confront him about his interest, the heat leaches from his expression, grows mute and cold like a muzzled dog. 

Readjusting the waistband of his slacks with a tug, he says, “I know you got better things to do than keep an old man company.”

Irritation sparks. “Cooper--”

“If this is about paying you for tonight,” his lips quirk into a sheepish smile, “I won’t be able to yet.” He scrubs a hand through the stubble peppered along his jaw. “The gig tonight didn’t… Well, it doesn’t matter.”

“No, that’s not what I --”

He plows on, “Anyway, the one I’ve got tomorrow should be enough. How about I stop by around seven o’clock? I’ll treat you to dinner as an apology.”

Frustration bubbles beneath the surface of your skin, antagonism thrumming through your veins. Your hands shake almost as much as your voice. “Cooper!”

“I… uh, yes?” He blinks.

Your brows furrow. “You don’t get it,” you say. “I mean, you truly don’t know?”

“I’m afraid there’s a lot I don’t get. You’re gonna have to be more particular.”

Maybe not said in so many words (or at all) but actions speak far louder.

Otherwise, why else would you spend most of your time in his apartment, fill every spare moment with Janey, and reserve evenings for his company?

Hell, you even cook and clean!

Almost scream your interest from the rooftops, and it’s obvious to everyone but him, it seems.

Here you are thinking he was preserving your dignity whenever he ignored a passing comment or lingering touch when, in fact, he’d been oblivious to their existence to begin with.

How a man can be so obtuse when you’re throwing yourself at him is beyond you.

If he wasn’t so captivating…

“Are you kidding me,” you ask, mindful of your tone, “how could you not know?” You throw your hands in the air. “I’ve been — for months!”

“Well, I don’t have a goddamn clue what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he snarks, setting his glass on the table. “Care to enlighten me?”

Fine. If that’s how he wants to play, let’s play.

When he moves to take another drag from his cigarette, you strike, fingers locking around his wrist mid-lift. And although his glassy eyes narrow, he keeps his hand still.

Waiting to see what you'll do.

Tucking your knee under you for balance, you bend forward and watch his face from beneath your lashes. When your lips wrap around the filter, a dark hunger bleeds into his expression, his pulse a steady thud against the pad of your thumb.

Inhaling, the cherry lights up, a flashbang in the dim overhead light.

Cooper’s breath hitches, and then you’re pulling away with a lungful of smoke; the taste of ash heavy on your tongue.

He tracks your movements with greed, gaze flicking for the briefest of moments past your chin before refocusing on the ring of red lipstick staining white paper.

“If you wanted one,” he chokes, gripping the back of the couch with white knuckles, “all you had to do was ask.”

With a coquettish grin, you exhale to the side and stare at him with hooded eyes. “Is that so?” Plucking the cigarette out of his limp hold, you stub it out in the ashtray. “What if I wanted to ask for something else, Mr. Howard?”

The next moment finds you deposited in his lap, his hands shooting out to grab at your waist only to freeze before they make contact.

“Woah! I--”

“Tell me something.”

Your lips caress the shell of his ear, sharing breath - sharing space as you plaster yourself to his front, arms looped over his shoulders. He jolts, body trembling with restraint.

“Would you give me what I wanted if I said please?”

The distance between you snaps taut with anticipation. “C-Coop,” he stutters. “Call me Coop.”

You hum. “Well, Coop, would you?”

“That depends almost entirely on what you’re asking for, sweetheart.”

Red nails skate along the back of his neck, play in the downy soft hair of his nape just to feel him shiver. And then you’re leaning back with your hands braced on his knees, your legs falling open in invitation.

The hem of your dress bunches around your waist, exposing the soft cotton of your underwear, and the darkened patch of slick soaking through.

“I think you know exactly what I want,” you purr. “Because you want it too. Don’t you?”

He bites down on a strangled moan when your hips arch forward, rocking the soft plush of your ass against the heavy weight of his thickening cock. The zipper digs into your skin as he tents the front of his slacks.

Mouth dropping open, his tongue flicks out to wet his lips - a slick circle of temptation that makes you clench. “I, uh, I don’t…”

Reaching between your splayed thighs, you hook a finger beneath your panties and pull the fabric aside. He jerks forward, exhaling hard at the flash of your soaked cunt and twitching clit.

“C’mon, be honest.”

With a sigh, you gather your arousal on the tips of your fingers.

Cooper’s gaze is a heavy weight pinning you in place as you pretend it’s him dragging his knuckles over the top of your mond. Him dragging calloused fingers up along sticky folds to play with your sensitive clit, ripping soft little mewls from your lips.

“Can’t you see what you do to me, Coop?” you say, pulling your hand away to show the webs of slick stretching between your fingers. “I’m so wet. Please, I’ve wanted you for so long…”

His hips rock against your ass in an aborted thrust. “Shit - shit!” Eyes slamming shut, he grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your sides hard enough to bruise. “We really, uh, shouldn’t - oh fuck, you look --”

“Why not?” Your hand brushes over his groin. “I can feel how hard you are.”

“It isn’t right, that’s why.” He stutters, stumbles over his words, “Besides, Janey…”

“I can be quiet,” you say, lips trembling. “I promise.”

“Goddamnit, you can’t say things like that and expect me not to --” Cutting himself off, strong fingers seize your chin and tilt until you’re met with Cooper’s severe expression, his scorching gaze. “You need to tell me now: are you sure this is what you want?”

There’s no hesitation, “Yes.”

In what world would you refuse?

The words barely pass your lips before Cooper’s bowing his dark head, mouth ravenous as it captures yours in a slick glide of bruising lips and hungry tongues.

He steals your breath, licks into your mouth and traces along the sensitive inside of your lip.

Pulse jump starting, your toes curl over the edge of the cushion and your thighs squeeze the barrel of his chest, kneecaps digging into his ribs.

“Oh,” a moan punches itself out of your throat - a breathy little thing swallowed up by his lips. “That’s--”

Anticipation swells, simmers between you like a band before it snaps. A strong forearm locks around your waist, tugging you into the cradle of his chest until you’re plastered from stem to stern.

Too hungry for tenderness as his free hand slips up to cup the back of your head, fingers catching in the briar of your hair and tugging at the roots.

You claw at his shoulders while sparks of pain ricochet down your neck, sufficing into a prickly flush that heats your blood. “Hnn, Cooper,” you gasp.

He murmurs your name through languid flicks of his tongue and sharp little nips of skin that leave your mouth tender and swollen. When he pulls away to survey his handiwork, his eyes are dark. Fathomless.

"I never thought I'd get the chance to kiss you like this," he says, wicking his thumb over the pillow of your bottom lip. "You taste as good as I imagined."

Dragging your nails across his scalp, you plead, “No more teasing - I can't take it.”

"Well," he grunts, fingers twisting up in your dress, “If that’s how you feel, then you better put those hips to good use and work for it, sweetheart."

part 2 dropping soon

[reiderwriter]

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.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Valentine’s Day smut w Ethan Landry since tomorrow Valentine’s Day and I’m kinda lonely 🥲

I ended up going all in on this lmao. It's 3.6k words, I hope you like it!!!

The Admirer - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: After swearing off Valentine's Day, your secret admirer gives you hope that not all guys suck.

Contains: *Oral - f and m recieving, fluff, inexperienced!Ethan*

A/N: I got another request after this one for a non-smut Valentine's Day fic, and I might not make it to that one today. I'm so sad about it😫

Valentine’s Day, or as you liked to call it ‘Just another regular day’, isn’t something you celebrated. You used to hope that someone would do something special for you, but after your previous boyfriend dropped the ball every single year and didn’t see the point of celebrating it when you’d go all out for him, you stopped caring about the holiday. This year, with you being single, you were happy that you weren’t going to feel disappointed by the lack of someone else’s effort.

As you got up to get ready, your roommate was heading out the door to get to her first class early.

“Awww,” you heard her say, angling your head to see what she was talking about. “There’s some balloons and roses out here.”

“Who do you think left it for you?” you asked, as she shook her head.

“No babe, this is for you. Look!” She brought the basket containing all the cute Valentine’s Day stuff over to you. You glanced at the tag, seeing your name. “This is so cute! It doesn’t say who it’s from, though.”

“This is probably some kind of prank,” you scoffed, as she rolled her eyes.

“What college kid is going to spend that kind of money on long stemmed red roses for a prank?” she asked, smiling at you. “You have a secret admirer!”

You tried to fight the smile that was forming on your lips, but you couldn’t. This was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for you.

“Ooh, they left a card, too,” she said, pulling the envelope out of the basket. “Open it!”

“Okay, okay. Jeez,” you said, peeling the heart-shaped sticker that was sealing the envelope.

You smiled as you started to read it, a blush creeping up on your cheeks.

“What does it say?” she squealed, as you giggled at her excitement. “Sorry, this is just so cute. I need to know.”

“Okay,” you sighed, “It says: I hope you don’t mind me doing this for you. I think you’re really special, and you deserve to be treated like you are. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight if you’re interested. I know it’d be easier for you to make that decision if you know who I am, but I’m a little nervous. I got you a present, and if you do want to take a chance with me, I’d like you to wear it. I’ll see you around today, and if you are wearing it, I’ll meet you in the flower garden at seven.”

Your roommate saw a jewelry box sitting in the basket, “Oh shit, this must be what he wants you to wear!”

She grabbed it and handed it to you. As you opened the box, you smiled at the sweet gesture. “It’s a necklace with a little heart on it,” you squealed, showing her before snapping the box shut.

“Are you going to wear it?” she asked, a huge smile on her face.

“Yeah, I think I can give whoever that did all this for me a chance,” you said, taking the necklace out of the box and hooking the clasp around the back of your neck.

“He said he’ll see you around today, I wonder who it is,” she sat there thinking. “I bet it’s someone you already know.”

“That’s the thing, I know a lot of people. Fingers crossed that it isn’t the creepy English professor,” you sighed, starting to get nervous.

“I don’t think it’s him. There’s no way he’d walk into our dorms with roses and balloons and drop them off outside a student’s door,” she said, “Okay, get up! You need to get ready so you can figure out who this is!”

You made it through your first two classes of the day, and still had no idea who your secret admirer was. You were hoping that it would be obvious. When you sat down to have lunch with your friends, Tara looked over and saw the necklace.

“Aww, that’s so cute! Is it new?” she asked, as Ethan and Chad walked up to the table, sitting down with their lunch.

“Yeah, someone left some stuff outside of my dorm for me this morning. This was in a jewelry box,” you smiled, as Tara started to get excited.

“Do you know who left it?” Mindy asked, glancing over to Ethan.

“No, but whoever it is wants me to meet them in the flower garden at seven,” you smirked, “I’m really excited.”

Ethan was trying to fight the smile on his face as Chad fist-bumped him under the table.

“That’s really sweet, I bet he’s a good dude,” Chad said, taking a bite of his food.

“I hope so. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before,” you said, “I was hoping I’d figure out who it was before tonight. The card that was with the stuff said he’ll see me around today.”

“Maybe you already have seen him today,” Mindy mumbled as she scrolled through her phone.

“Yeah, maybe,” Ethan said, rubbing the back of his neck. He was starting to wonder what your reaction would be later in the night when you walked out to the flower garden and saw him sitting there. As happy as you were with what he’d done for you, he was still scared of rejection. “I think I need to get to my next class.”

“Dude, it doesn’t start for thirty minutes,” Chad said, before noticing the anxiety on Ethan’s face. “But I don’t blame you for wanting to beat the heavy foot traffic.”

“Yeah, it can get a little crazy. I’ll see you guys later,” Ethan said, standing up and throwing away the rest of his food.

“That was weird,” Mindy said, as Chad nudged her with his foot under the table. “What?”

After lunch, the rest of the day flew by. When you made it back to your dorm, your roommate helped you get ready.

“You look so cute!” she said, taking in your appearance. You didn’t know what your secret admirer would be wearing, so you were really hoping you weren’t underdressed.

“Yeah, but what if he shows up in like, a suit or something,” you laughed, looking down at the outfit.

“This guy has to know you. I highly doubt he’d show up like that,” she said, adding some light blush to your cheeks. “You look hot, don’t overthink it.”

You grabbed your phone, the ‘6:40’ on the screen making you nervous.

“Fuck, I need to go. I’m going to be late.”

“Be safe. Text me if you need me,” she smiled, walking you to the door.

The February air was chilly as it started to get darker outside. Your hands slid inside your jacket pockets as you walked the path to the garden. The only flowers bloomed were the winter ones, but the fountains and the soft glow of the lights on the ground made everything look so beautiful in the distance. You saw someone sitting on the bench, your heart racing as you stepped closer.

“Ethan?” you asked, your eyes adjusting to see one of your best friends sitting there. You were relieved when you saw him in his normal attire.

“Hey,” he said, “Sorry if this is a little weird.”

You smiled at him as you sat beside him on the bench.

“You’re the one that left me that stuff this morning?” you asked as he rubbed his hands against his lap.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if you’re disappointed that it’s me.”

“Why would I be disappointed?” you asked, taking one of his hands in yours, attempting to calm his nerves. He smiled at the gesture. “I’m happy it’s you.”

“Really?” he smiled, “I’ve been so nervous all day.”

“If you would’ve asked me out, I would’ve said yes. Don’t get me wrong, I love that you did all this for me, but you didn’t have to,” you said, as he started to rub his thumb against the top of your hand.

“You’re worth it. I got the idea the other day when we were at Tara’s, and you were talking about your ex never doing anything special for you. It bummed me out because I think you’re amazing and deserve the world. I thought today would be the perfect time to shoot my shot,” he started to laugh, “If I knew you were interested, I would’ve said something sooner.”

“I think you picked the perfect time,” you said, as his eyes looked between yours and your lips. He started to lean in, but then he just stopped.

“Uh, maybe we should get to dinner,” he said, looking away and standing up.

He grabbed your hand as you stood up. You started to walk towards the garden exit when you stopped him.

“Wait,” you said, standing in front of him. He looked confused as you grabbed his hands and placed them on your hips. You stood on your tippy toes as he leaned down to kiss you. He had a goofy smile on his face when you pulled away. “I thought this was the perfect spot for our first kiss.”

“I think it’s the perfect spot for our second one, too,” he said, leaning down to kiss you again. “Now, let’s go to dinner.”

“Okay,” you giggled.

He held your hand as you walked down the sidewalk towards the restaurants on campus. You bumped into Chad and Tara outside of the cute little hole-in-the-wall restaurant that the friend group regularly liked to go to. Chad was excited, while Tara was confused.

“Wait! Ethan was your secret admirer?” she asked, looking up to Chad. She stared him down as she realized he already knew. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you tell her everything,” Chad said, motioning to you, “Mindy knew, too.”

“What the fuck?” she said, smiling as she looked at your hand in Ethan’s. “You better treat her right.”

“I will,” he said, “We’re going to dinner, I guess I’ll see you later?”

Chad shook his head, “No, I’m staying at Tara’s tonight.”

“Oh, cool. You guys have fun,” he said, waving as you walked into the restaurant.

Chad and Tara walked in a few minutes later, sitting on the opposite side of the restaurant. They didn’t want to make things weird, even though you kept catching Tara glance over to you.

“So, you had no idea it was me?” he asked, after the waitress took the drink order.

“No, I didn’t think you were interested in me.” His eyes went wide.

“I’ve always been interested. Since the first day Tara invited you to have lunch with us,” he smiled, “Chad tried to push me to ask you out.”

“So why didn’t you?” you questioned, as the drinks were sat down in front of you.

“I guess it was the whole ‘the hot girl could never want the dorky virgin’ thing,” you started to laugh.

“If anything, I think it’s hot that you’re a virgin,” you smirked, his cheeks turning pink as he sat across from you. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s the innocence factor.”

“So, if we had sex, would you be less into me?” he started to get embarrassed, “Wait, forget I said that. That was dumb.”

Watching him get so flustered as he spoke and stumble over his words was adorable. You didn’t want to keep the conversation sexual with it being the first date, but you did need to assure him.

“No, it would be even hotter that you wanted to do that with me,” you smirked, taking his hand in yours on top of the table. “But there’s no rush for that. I don’t want you to think it’s a deal breaker for me if you want to wait.”

“Okay, that’s good to know,” he said, moving his hand from yours so the waitress had room to set the food down. “Thank you,” he said to her as she walked away.

After both of you ate, Ethan wasn’t ready for the night to end.

“Do you want to come to my dorm? We could watch a movie or something,” he said, lacing his fingers in yours.

“Sure,” you smiled, as he led the way. “As long as it’s something that’s so romantic it’ll make me cry.”

He started to laugh, “Deal.”

When you made it to the dorm, he suggested Titanic.

“You know it’s three hours long, right?” you asked, sitting on his bed.

“It gives me an excuse to spend more time with you,” he shrugged, grabbing his laptop. “As long as that’s okay with you.”

“That sounds perfect.”

You snuggled against him as he pushed play, his arm wrapping around you as he held you close. His hand started to rub your side; the simple motion very soothing.

“Okay, I need to sit up for a minute or I’m going to fall asleep,” you said, removing your head from his chest.

“I wouldn’t mind if you fell asleep on me,” he said, turning his head to kiss you.

“Yeah, but then I’d ruin the rest of the date,” you said, kissing him again.

His hand went to the side of your face as he deepened the kiss. Your lips flowed so well with his. You were both getting turned on when he pulled away. You had a confused look on his face, and as badly as he wanted to keep going, he cared about you too much.

“I don’t want you to think this is all I want from you,” he said, his breathing heavy.

“I know it’s not, but I told you earlier, we can wait as long as you want to.”

You laid your head back on his chest, trying to focus on the movie when you noticed the bulge in his jeans. It took everything in you to turn the attention back to the movie. You almost felt wrong to feel this way, but you’d known him for almost a year. It wasn’t like this was the first time the two of you had spent time together.

As Rose and Jack started to fall in love, you felt his hand rubbing against your side again. You didn’t feel like you could fall asleep this time as the movie started to get interesting.

“Hey,” Ethan said, “Can I kiss you again?”

“Mhm,” you said, angling your neck so his lips could reach yours. The position wasn’t that comfortable for you, and he could tell, so he scooted you off of him and hovered over you.

“Is this okay?” he asked, leaning in closer. You nodded before he connected his lips to yours. His hand went to your hip as yours went to his hair. When your shirt started to slip up a little and his fingers brushed against the exposed skin, you gently pushed him off you.

His eyes were dark with lust, you were sure yours looked the same.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, “I’m sorry If I did.”

“No, you didn’t. I’m just, uh, fuck,” you sighed as he waited for you to continue, “You’re really, uhm…fuck it. You’re making me wet.”

“Really?” he smirked, trying to hide his excitement that his lack of experience didn’t seem to matter.

“Yeah, the way you’re kissing me is just…ugh,” you groaned, the sexual frustration evident to Ethan.

“You could let me take care of you,” he said, his hand running along your thigh over your jeans.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” you questioned; he quickly nodded his head. “But what about you, though?”

“We can talk about that after,” he said, leaning back down to kiss you. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

He started to slide your shirt up your torso as you sat up a little to make it easier for him to pull it over your head. His mouth started to kiss along the newly exposed skin, stopping at the top of your breasts.

“Can you help me with this?” he laughed, as you reached behind yourself and unhooked it. “Okay, I think I’ve got it from here.”

He slid the straps down your arms and tossed your bra to the other side of the room. You started to whimper when he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling across it before he switched to the other side. His hands were running along your thigh, over your pussy and up to the button of your jeans.

When he unbuttoned them and started to slide the material down your legs, the anticipation was killing you. You felt how his mouth moved against your nipples, desperate to know how good his mouth would feel when he ate you out. Your whimpers got louder at his actions and your own thoughts.

He started to kiss lower, your body squirming underneath him.

“You okay, baby?” he asked, looking up at you.

“Mhm,” your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you even lower over the material of your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned, leaning back to slide those down your legs, too. “If what I’m doing doesn’t feel good, will you tell me?”

“I’m sure you’ll do fine, but yes, I will,” you smiled, your breathing heavy.

He leaned in, the simple lick to your clit making your hips jolt. He looked back up at you, “That felt good, keep doing that.”

His tongue flicked again as he watched you. Your hand went to his hair when you looked down at him, the eye contact turning you on even more.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, as his tongue dipped inside of you. “You’re doing so good, baby.”

The praise you were giving him went straight to his throbbing cock. He was proud of himself, happy that he was making you feel good. He’d thought about this so many times, and this was better than he could’ve ever imagined.

His mouth continued to move against you, going back to your clit as he slipped a finger inside your core that was dripping with both his spit and your own arousal.

“Right there,” you gasped as he angled his finger just right.

“Can I use two?” he asked, as he pulled away from your sensitive clit.

“Please,” you said, as he added another finger. “Oh my god.”

“That feel good?” he asked, watching the way your eyebrows knitted together and your jaw dropped.

“Yes,” you moaned out, his fingers making your orgasm start to build.

Your pussy started to occasionally flutter around his fingers. He wasn’t sure exactly what that meant, but he knew it must’ve felt good as your moaning got louder. His mouth went back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” you moaned, as his fingers and mouth kept moving. He felt like he could cum at the feeling of your walls spasming around his fingers, not to mention the borderline-pornographic moans falling out of your mouth.

“How was that?” he asked, crawling up the bed to lay beside you.

“Holy fuck,” you said, your breathing still labored. “That was perfect.”

The throbbing in his cock was starting to get painful as he waited for you to catch your breath. He didn’t want to ask you to do anything for him, because he wanted you to know that everything he’d done for you earlier in the day wasn’t to get into your pants. It was to show you how much he cared about you.

“So…about me taking care of you…” you smirked at him, “Can I?”

“Only if you want to,” he said, “No pressure.”

“Oh, I want to,” you said crawling on top of him.

He sat up a little as you helped him take his shirt off. When you kissed his neck, he started to smile. It felt good, but he also felt the necklace he gave you brushing against him.

As you kissed over his chest and down his abs, he couldn’t stop watching the way your ass stuck up in the air. He almost wanted to cave and fuck you, but he was determined to hold out, at least until next time.

You quickly unbuttoned his jeans as he lifted a little so you could slide them down, grabbing onto his boxers as you did so. His cheeks reddened as he was fully exposed in front of you, nervous about what you thought.

“The shy guys always have the biggest dicks,” you sighed, licking his tip. You watched him as you teased him with the gentle licks, before focusing on taking him in your mouth.

“Oh fuck,” he groaned as you started to suck. “That feels so good.”

Your mouth kept moving, your drool sliding down the rest of his cock that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You started to stroke him, the combination of that and your mouth making his orgasm quickly creep up.

His hand went to your hair as his hips started to thrust a little, making you gag around him.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned, the pretty sound making you suck a little harder.

His eyes screwed shut as he released his hot cum in your mouth. His legs were tingling as you were overstimulating him a little, whines flooding out of his mouth.

“Sorry, babe,” you said after pulling away, “I couldn’t help it. Your cum tastes so good.”

It was your turn to crawl up beside him, laying your head on his chest as he caught his breath.

“Can we do that again sometime?” he asked, his fingers tracing along your back.

“Whenever you want,” you giggled, as he got quiet. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just how hot it was to see you naked wearing nothing but that necklace,” he mumbled, getting sleepy.

When you sat up, his eyes opened. He didn’t want you to go anywhere. When you started to smile as you posed on the bed beside him, he started to laugh.

“Will you draw me like one of your French girls?” you asked, referencing the movie that you didn’t get to finish.

“The best I can do is a stick figure with boobs.”

[edgeray]

Hi Ray! 🍅 Anon here~

Have fun on your holiday and enjoy it to the best you can! Be sure to stay hydrated, the weather is really mental these days.

Just wanted to share a bit of brainrot I had regarding soft Arle, whether or not you choose to make it into a fic is up to you!

Arle with her frame and demeanor is most definitely the Top + Dom in the relationship with reader, but how about when she’s insecure? Seeing reader take care of the children and feeling as though she doesn’t deserve to be as loved as said children, then reader after putting the kids to bed embraces Arle and puts her head against their chest so Arle can hear their heartbeat more clearly while patting Arle and assuring her that they love her for her and that she DEFINITELY deserves to be spoilt… (reader knows Arle too well to not pick up on her tells and knows that Arle’s being harsh on herself)

Or maybe reader writing in to the Tsaritsa (without Arle knowing) to ask if Arle can take a 2 week break just to take care of the children and spend time as a couple (What if!! Tsaritsa was the one who wed them!!! And just closes both eyes and approves time off). Then reader proceeds to spoil Arle in every way possible - breakfast in bed, a warm bath after sparring with the children (no, not that kind of bath, but a fluffy one where Arle gets a shoulder massage and scrubbed clean and gets lots of loving kisses everywhere she’s insecure of), a feast of sashimi and steak tartare for dinner and a soft bed and loving wife in the night. I wanna spoil Arle like that but 😭

Oh! And since Harbingers are like celebrities in Snezhnaya, do you think Arle would have a fanclub there? Think about it! She’s young, has a boatload of money (you CANNOT convince me #4 doesn’t have money when #11 has an unimaginable sum at the bank), can handle kids well (she runs the HotH), and as a Harbinger who fights she probably is ripped (RIP her actual body proportions, they’re limited by Hoyo’s models, nobody is convincing me her body type isn’t like Lady Maria’s from Bloodborne, with abs, guns and muscular. Thighs.)

0 chance that she doesn’t have a line of sapphics lining up for her in Snezhnaya, even with the rumors of her being ruthless and cruel (I mean. If the rumors worked in making people back off. Arle simps like us wouldn’t exist to begin with lmao)… Imagine Arle trying to placate Jealous!Teasing!Reader!! Like Arle coming home on Valentine’s day a bit late to find reader teasing her about having a new lover meanwhile Arle was actually out buying a new dagger for reader to protect themselves with… reader being melodramatic because she knows and trusts Arle enough that Arle would never do anything like that (and Arle knows but plays along)

R: “Oh, woe is me! My wife came home late on Valentine’s with a dagger to end our relationship, whatever should I do?”

Arle: “My love…”

And if the children are around? They’d be busy either pretending they didn’t see anything or resisting the urge to claw their eyes out or handing each other eye bleach. Sending condolences to Lyney when one of the younger children ask something along the lines of

“Brother Lyney, do you think we’ll have another sibling soon if Father and Mother are this loving with each other”

(I headcanon that Arle does teach them sexuality education but not until they’re 10 and before that the older children tell their younger siblings that children pop into existence when Papa and Mama love each other lots)

I’m so sorry this is getting really out of hand but Arle has me in a brainrot when I should be focusing elsewhere 💀

Rest Your Worries, Lax Your Heart

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Thank you, I did have a fun vacation :). Wow that is a lot and I love every single bit of this ask 🍅 anon. It'd be unfair if I just wrote one part and not all of them, so what did I do? Combined all of them as best as I can, but of course some details had to be omitted/changed because of that–hopefully you don't mind. I'm a fucking genius. Also considering that Arle has an anime, but never got a beach episode, this is said beach episode. This took so long because this turned out to be pretty self-indulgent (I'm sure you know which scene it was). This is a long boi, way over what the request range is supposed to be, but hope this is worth it? Somehow, my brain was able to focus for at least like… 4 hours. Started this at 23:00 something, and it's nearly 04:00. 🍅 anon, I enjoy your asks, so I hope you personally enjoy this one :)  Content warnings / info - a bit of suggestiveness, reader is referred to as ‘Mother�� but is otherwise gn!, 3.2k words 

It took a lot of back and forth over the span of four months, writing to the Tsaritsa, but you had finally been able to arrange this without the knowledge of your husband. The Archon, generous as she is, approved of your proposal for a two week long break without much pushback or questioning, saying that loyalty was rewarded and as one of her more productive Harbingers, Arlecchino’s efforts warrant her a break. All the Tsaritsa asked for was the general details of the vacation: when, where, and the activities you would be doing, which was easy enough to answer to. Surprisingly, she bought an entire section of the Sumeru coast along with a sizable cabin for the two of you and the children for the duration of your respite when you told where you plan on the location being. You're not one to turn down such a gracious offer so you accepted it. As a Pyro user, she would surely enjoy somewhere as warm as Sumeru. 

Currently, you're holding the letter from the Tsaritsa, which contains a direct order from the Archon addressed to Arlecchino to stay at Sumeru. No matter how much you plead for her to rest, your husband only says that she can keep working and for you to not worry. Tracing the envelope stamp, you breathe in deeply before knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Called from beyond the door. 

“Can I come in, Arle?”

“Yes, my love,” she says with a lilt. 

You come in, striding towards her, holding up the back of the envelope while trying to suppress your smile. “This was addressed for you.”

Arlecchino takes it with a bit of suspicion at the crack in your facial expression. Turning it over, she notices the stamp, which is the mark of the word of the Archon. She narrows her brows and takes out a letter opener, taking out the letter with a bit more urgency. You watch her expression morph from confusion to mild shock to indifference again. 

“What does it say?” You inquire her, biting your lip to hide the smile.

“It says that I'm going to Sumeru in three days. For a respite.” She eyes you carefully, her eyes glinting red. “But you seem to know that already.” 

You nod, a smile forming . “I thought… you were working so hard, and you deserve a break. I asked the Tsaritsa if it was possible and she agreed to it, even paying for our stay there.” 

Arlecchino's face flicks to something indecipherable, like there was a hesitation, but it quickly disappears before you can think too much on it. She gets up from her desk chair, strutting to you before wrapping her arms around your midsection, pulling you into an embrace. She presses a tender kiss against your forehead. “Thank you, my dear, for your thinking of me. I'm sure the children would appreciate being out of the House. I'll tell the children about this, and we should begin packing.”  

But does she appreciate it? It's for her, after all. You chew on the inside of your cheek but your smile remains in place.

You tilt your head up to kiss her cheek. “I already packed for us. And I told the kids, already.”

“Hm, that's why they seem so antsy lately. Thank you,” Arlecchino hums. “You picked for us already?”

“Yes. Including your clothes,” you chuckle, deviously imagining her in the attires you picked out for her. At that, she raises her eyebrows.

“Oh? What are you planning, my love?” She teases, seizing your chin in her hands and tilting your head up to lock her eyes with yours. You can't stop the giggle that bubbles out. 

“Nothing too… scandalous…” you answer back. “Don't worry, it's nothing too bad. This is all for you to relax, remember? You've been working so hard, been such a good husband, so…”

You lean forward to kiss her on the mouth. Whispering against her lips, you say, “As your partner, it's my duty to make sure you're happy. Isn't that right?”

If she physically could at that moment, Arlecchino would melt underneath your words. 

—

Upon your arrival at Sumeru, you were glad you picked the outfits that you did. Travel with around twenty kids was difficult, but luckily the older kids, the twins and Freminet especially, helped a lot. Everyone was practically vibrating in excitement, with the exception of Arlecchino, though you knew it was mostly because of how inexpressive she usually was. 

Right? 

Currently, the two of you lay on the sand by the crystal clear waters, enjoying the sight of the children playing. The little ones are playing in the sand, presumably sculpting a castle, and the older ones are either engaging in a heated battle involving smacking a ball around or with Freminent in the ocean. Here, you forget that they’re a part of the Fatui, child soldiers for the Tsaritsa; here, they look like normal children and it makes your heart swell. 

Unfortunately, you're stuck in a dilemma–observe your children and take in their contagious laughter, or ogle your husband who is in the most delicious and mouth-watering attire possible. Underneath her short gray collarless jacket, was a cropped, sleeveless turtleneck that exposed her lower half of her toned stomach, including her v-line. Below are tight, black leggings which do little in hiding her muscular thighs. Everytime you look at her, a flush runs to your cheeks and you find yourself too flustered for your stare to linger because of the growing amount of indecent thoughts. You breathe deeply in an attempt to calm the raging storms of desire in your stomach, distracting yourself by observing the waves and digging your feet in the sand. For the sake of your children, you'd like for your mind to be as pure as possible. 

Blackened arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a lap. You squeal at the sudden contact. Your husband's mouth hovers beside your ear, hot breath brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Something interesting?” Arlecchino huskily whispers, making you shudder. One hand strokes over your stomach, invoking shivers from you. You inhale sharply before glancing at Arlecchino's face. 

“Just… watching the waves. It's calming,” you lie quickly, wondering if your racing heartbeat can be felt underneath her fingertips. 

“Your heart says otherwise,” she chuckles, turning your head over your shoulder so she can kiss you. 

After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, and your eyes flick over to the children in the sand, still tossing around that ball over a net. “Why don't you join them? I'm sure they would love it if their Father joined their game.”

“My dear, I would destroy them,” Arlecchino bluntly remarks, and you chuckle. 

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The two of you watch them in silence until Arlecchino breaks the silence. 

“I like what you picked for me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your reaction is adorable.” 

Something white-hot pricks the back of your neck. “I-I'm glad you like it. I like it too,” you stammer out, your abashment evident in your voice. 

“I can tell. Perhaps… you'd like to help me put on sun protection?” Arlecchino teases with a small smirk, removing her jacket off to reveal her lean biceps. “Over the pants, if that's alright.”

This handsome–sexy–woman is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Your heart is going into overdrive, and you would be terrified of going into a stroke if you aren't more focused on your husband's physique. If it's not your heart that's going to kill you, it's the pending combustion inside of you. You squeeze your thighs against one another, pooling heat forming between your legs. 

“Y-yeah, sure,” you manage in between your laboring breathing, getting off of her lap to face her. Spreading the paste in your hand, you first venture over her neck, tenderly rubbing over her throat and then her nape, down to her sides. Her skin is hot to the touch, as expected of a Pyro user, but it somehow retains softness and flawlessness despite all the combat and harshness your husband deals with as a Fatui Harbinger. Still, unlike her composed facial features, you can feel that her pulse is as frenzied as yours–it gives you comfort that you’re not the only one feeling this. Your husband hums with contentment, watching you carefully. 

Next, you slide your hands over to her broad shoulders before feeling down her upper arm, deliberate attention to her biceps. A shuddering breath comes from you as she shifts, extending her arms more out towards you. You trace down the markings of her arm before caressing her inky elbow and forearms. Finally, you get to her wrists. An idea pops in your head as you bring her hands to your lips, kissing her knuckles and rings, giving special focus onto her engagement ring. An amused huff escapes from her, and you glance back at her. Her eyes gleam with such a rare fondness, reserved only for you. 

You glance down at the only part of her that's yet been touched, your stomach churning in itself when you're able to get a closer, longer look. You gulp considerably, your hands shaking slightly as they hover over it. 

A charcoal hand wraps around your wrist, gently guiding your palm to her until it's flushed against her skin. “Don't be shy now, love.” She smirks wickedly and you have the sense to kiss that smile off her face. 

“Shut up,” you murmur meekly, but place both hands on her stomach, your fingertips traversing over every dips created by her well-muscles stomach. It feels like your body will implode at any second now, as her body heat infects your fingers and spreads to the rest of your body. You coat her waist before your touch lingers lower, just above the waistband of her pants. You trace the indent of her v-line, your fingers nearly dip underneath her leggings. Before it can, she stops you, grasping both of your wrists with one hand as she leans in to whisper hotly near your ear.

“Let's save that for later, hm?” 

—

“Lyney, what are they doing?” One of the children inquires, as they point at Mother and Father still by the water. Father remains on top of Mother, seemingly applying sun protection, though Lyney isn't quite sure if their position is truly that… innocent. 

“Oh… Father is just helping Mother, like how I helped with the sun protection on your back,” Lyney quickly comes up with an explanation, looking away from them. 

The child remains silent, observing the older male's expression, before looking back at them once more. “Lyney, you said that when a mother and father love each other a lot, a new child comes right?” 

Lyney isn't sure if he was going to enjoy what comes next, though he has an inkling that he won't. “Yes…” 

“Does that mean Mother and Father will bring us a new sibling soon?”

Lyney sputters, looking to Lynette for assistance. 

—

After a nice day at the beach, Arlecchino takes you and the children to a local restaurant. Luckily, she was able to find one that was relatively empty, so there was no problem with fitting you and your twenty children inside. You find that the two of you rather enjoy Sumeru dishes; while you enjoy the variety of flavors, Arlecchino rather indulges in the spiciness of them. Your favorite is between the tandoori roast chicken and the lambad fish roll. Though, something bothers you during your time at the restaurant.

Arlecchino is an attractive woman; that much is undeniable, and you're well aware of the fact that she's pleasing to both men's and women's eyes. It is a common occurrence for her to attract the sights of those around her, for whatever the reason, though among the women, it is typically out of admiration. Here, this is the case as well, wandering eyes from other customers, and subtle flirting from the audacious waitress. 

After finishing your dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to return to the two of them chatting up, although in reality it’s more like a one-sided conversation and Arlecchino is ignoring her– you're well aware of this, but you find the waitress’ presence pervasive. You approach your table quickly, kissing your husband on the cheek before glancing at the waitress.

“My husband and I would like to order dessert. Can you fetch us a menu, please?” You ask, disguising your ire with a practiced smile. Instantly, the waitress's flirtation dies and she walks away. 

You huff at the sight of the woman. “How could you, Arlecchino? After all we've been through? Talking so casually with her when I'm gone?” You jest with a gasp, faux jealousy in your tone once you notice the relieved sigh from her. Her claws release its hold on the tablecloth, leaving behind tattered sheets. 

“Oh, how I've been caught,” Arlecchino responds monotonously, playing along. “My affair with an unnamed, rather plain-featured woman has been discovered.” 

You giggle as her hand finds yours, interlocking with your fingers. “I'm in disbelief, betrayed by who I thought was my true love.”

“Oh hush now, love. Will Baklava buy your silence and heart again?” 

“Perhaps.” 

The House of the Hearth children gag as Mother and Father conciliate. 

—

“Mother, can't we stay up any longer? We're on vacation. Pleaseeeeee,” one of the children pleads as you usher them to bed, pulling the covers over them. 

“It's not healthy for you to stay up. Besides, you have plenty of time tomorrow and the rest of the two weeks to have fun. Your Father and I can't keep watch over you during the night,” you respond with, kissing them on the forehead. 

“What if Lyney or Lynette watches us?” 

“Lyney and Lynette are probably just as tired. When you wake up, we can go to the beach again, does that sound okay?” 

“Okay… good night Mother.”

You hum in delight, caressing their head. “Good night. Sweet dreams.” 

You silently walk towards the door. Arlecchino leans against the doorframe, observing you wordlessly–again, that unreadable expression appears over her, but this time it lingers. You shut the door as quietly as you can, before turning to your husband.

“Is there something you need, Arle?” You inquire. 

She shakes her head. You don't quite believe her, but you don't address it. “I'm going to go take a bath. Get all this sand off of me. Would you like to join me?” 

Arlecchino nods, and soon the two of you are in the bathroom. You let the faucet run, filling the bathtub with water as Arlecchino removes her clothing. It only takes a few moments before the two of you are seated in the bathtub, but it's a change of position this time. Arlecchino sits in between your legs, facing away from you.

“It's been a while since we've bathed like this, right?” You question softly, lightly carding your fingers through her untied hair. 

“It has been,” she merely replies, her voice almost far-away; like there’s something else on her mind. Even though you only face her back, you can tell from her lack of movement that she’s in deep contemplation.

“What are you thinking about, Arle?” Your husband bristles a bit at the question. Even after being married to you for a couple years, she's still unaccustomed to how you can read her so easily, especially when she prides herself in being incomprehensible to others, even her children. 

“Do you… not enjoy this?” You ask hesitantly with a lump in your throat. You know that she knows what you meant by ‘this’– the vacation; the entire notion of taking a break is foreign to Arlecchino, but you hope that she was able to find this beneficial. If she hates this and this vacation is supposed to be two weeks long… you don't want to say you'd be disappointed but you'd hope she'd at least be able to relax from her Harbinger duties. 

Arlecchino is silent for a few moments. “I admit… I am uneased by this, to be so vulnerable and open to assaults now that we're not in the House of the Hearth. I feel unproductive and restless without my usual work. However, at the same time, I can see how beneficial this is to the children, and it is a nice change for once to see them like this. Being able to spend time with you like this is also rather indulgent, but I cannot complain about it.” 

You smile, a weight lifted off your chest as you lean forward to press a kiss against her nape. “I’m glad. This was for you after all.”

“Although I am gratified that the children are able to experience this as well … I cannot see why you would put this much effort for me. After all, I am…” Arlecchino pauses, raising her blackened hands to her view. She doesn’t finish her sentence, but you're able to get a sense of what she’s trying to say, and another weight is placed heavy on your heart. For as confident and assured that Arlecchino likes to present herself, when it is just the two of you, she reveals a rawer, more unguarded side to her. Often, she confides in you how she grapples with why you can so fondly view her, and every time, your heart sinks. How could your husband think this way? 

Laying your chin over her shoulder, you gingerly place both of your hands underneath hers, stroking the inside of her palm with your thumb. “I know where your thoughts are leading to, Arlecchino, and they're wrong. I love you, Arlecchino. You deserve this. You deserve this treatment, you deserve a break, you deserve to be loved. Your curse, your past… it doesn't matter. These hands…” 

You continue caressing her hand with your fingers. “...They are not cursed. These hands are not unloveable. These are the same hands that protect and care for our children. The same hands that hold me. The same hands that please me. They are a part of you, and they aren't evidence that you are a monster. If you are, you wouldn't have me, and you wouldn't have the children.” 

You kiss down along her bare back, gaining shivers from the woman. “Enjoy this, my love, for me at the very least. You are my husband, so let me do my part in loving you. You've done an innumerable amount of things for me and the children, so consider this to be our repayment for you.” 

“That is why I am doing this for you, do you understand?” You whisper against her skin. 

Arlecchino nods, a shaky breath escaping from her. You finish your treatment around her shoulderblades and gesture for her to turn around. When she does, the first thing that you do is kiss her hands, peppering them with as much devotion as you can give them. To you, nothing is more beautiful. 

“You deserve everything and more. Don't forget that, Arlecchino. So let me do this for you.” It isn't an ask. It is a demand from the one person whose authority is higher than the Tsaritsa: you. 

Arlecchino closes her eyes, and lets herself melt into you. 

[cconfusedkat]

(shaking hands, functioning on three iced coffees, not beta read we just die) (LIL BRO TREATING THIS LIKE AO3Anyways yeah i did not read anything i typed here a second time so my wording might Suck Major Kuss)

Hey chat! sorry my holiday depression unfortunately kicked in, i had a ,, relatively decent Eid (cuz i dont celebrate christmas) ...? so i hope everyone had a relatively better holiday than i did… 💦

My friends often tell me i look like my art and i kinda see it. Hooray! Meeting the artist! Except i took matters into my own hands of making my own collage because I Do Not Have Enough Storage Space For Any Other Editing App

Additional shitpost ❤️ the art I've been most proud of are not actually in here, really! I'm mainly proud of the fanart i made for the few smiling critters AU's aaaall the way back feb-march but. I guess the stuff i liked the most i did this year was probably for the one who wilts? Im trying to think of stuff earlier than that. I noticed i definitely had an improvement in art, and i learned i do have a preference of drawing certain ways now too lmao- the fun of art! I hope to improve more in 2025 :-)

Herm,, all jokes aside, im glad people like my art...?? I am not a very Secure artist myself (already taking me five minutes to type that out and consider myself as an artist) so im SHOCKED when people Actually like my things. My doodles. The sometimes rare occasion of real art i put out there. Like! Wow! Thats crazy

Id have to say the same for youtube- im currently at 456 subscribers 🥺❤️ that is huge to me,, i wouldnt have expected me posting for the first time in years on youtube would result to me getting this many subscribers? ? .???

Im very, VERY thankful for the people ive met this year through fandom and generally. Unfortunately—for the past few months—Ive hit a really low stump in my mental health that limits me from talking to people without getting super drained, even on social media i kinda struggle with being active again. I am thankful for the people that continue to stick around and know im the way that i am,, one day ill be mentally stronger and everyone is gonna see my growth as soon as i can ,, Actually leave my own home and hopefully start a new. I didnt really consider that until one of my friends shared its experiences with me and i GENUINELY realized i can run away and get better one day,, there is a light at the end of the tunnel,, there IS,, but not now. Not today. Not in a few months. Itll take me years to heal but 2025 and ongoing years as i get more freedom to do so,,

UHHHH UHHH. ASIDE FROM CHEESY RANTING OF HAVING HOPES FOR THE FUTURE, YAPYAPYAP- i got a drawing tablet (again another thing my friend inspired me for- technically two major things in a row it inspired me for- hope in the future and drawing BWAHAHA-) and uhhh. HmMMOOHHH YEAH I REUNITED MY MEOWMEOWS! HOORA🎊🎊🎊🎊

my 2025 goals are not just improvement in art,, but in hopes of getting a full time job (since my last full time UMM. did NOT work out well! How am i gonna learn to pay my taxes on my own dawg,) and trying to get a place of my own since i missed out on that two years ago (or one? One year ago? I DUNNO..!!!!) , therapy and trying to heal better compared to my terrible stumps of 2022-2024,, i dunno what else but. Maybe working on my social skills at some point 🗿🗿 a far fetched goal is moving out of state completely and also going on testosterone but that is farrrr from now </33

Thank you lot for following and keeping up with my goofiness i gen did not think an animanga nerd with a passion of indie and mascot horror games could reach 510 followers within one year HELPPP thats crazy

On less serious goals though i hope on watching more animes than reading manga in 2025 BWAHAHAGAHSAJD i read manga more and anime is Extremely Rare for me to watch but both jjk and Beastars have all ive been watching as of recent lol- trust i will be such a geek (girl Please that is NAWT something to look forward to) (YES IT IS. HAVE YOU NO WHIMSY?)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for not getting my coworkers holiday gifts?

Sorry in advance for the long ask, I have adhd so I'm not always great at figuring out what's relevant to the topic lmao. I (29M) have been working at my current workplace since I graduated college (so ~7 years). For the first few years I worked pretty much alone. I have a close working relationship with my supervisors, and I have a lot of interns filter through, but I was the only person at my 'level' of work, if that makes sense. I would write cards for my supervisors, and with my interns I would do something like bake cookies for everyone, or take them all out for dinner (to clarify I always have at minimum 3-4 interns, I wasn't just taking someone I was in charge of out for a one on one dinner lmao).

Last year, four more people were hired who work in the same position/level as me (early 20s-mid 30s, all F). I get along with them alright as coworkers, but they are all much closer with each other than I am with them. They didn't know eachother before starting here, but I make a lot of effort keeping distance between my work and personal life, vs they have all become friends outside of work. I also have enough issues with them that I wouldn't want to be friends with them outside of work (very condensed version is that I am openly aroace and they are Weird about it). I am firm about keeping boundaries/distance though and that makes it easier to deal with them.

Again, we work together really well when we're actually talking about work-- it's just the non-work stuff that I don't really vibe with. Also, their level of friendship is very normal in our workplace/field, since we are in a very very rural area where the tiny little town we're in is almost entirely centered around the one industry/company that we're at. The fact that I'm not friends outside of work with my coworkers gives me a reputation for being weird/cold (but I don't care if I seem weird as long as it means I can keep some distance).

Last year, we all talked about Xmas gifts, and decided that we wouldn't get each other anything, but rather just pitch in for some wine and fancy pastries for a mini office party. It was nice, except then right before Christmas I found a gift on my desk from one of them (like, a 50$ gift, which is quite expensive considering how much we make). I asked her about it, saying I appreciated it but didn't have anything since we agreed not to get eachother gifts. She said something like she didn't expect anything, just wanted to get me something. I thanked her and but was uncomfortable enough that I ended up giving the thing to a friend of mine (who knew it was a re-gift and was happy to have it lol). I didn't plan to get anything, except then I found out that the other three had all consequently gotten eachother and me gifts as a result of her. I talked to the one coworker I get along best with, and she agreed with me that it would now be rude to not give anything in return, so I just got everyone relatively impersonal gifts (books).

However, finances are tight this year for me (coworkers don't know that) due to some medical bills. We are doing an office cookie exchange, and again agreed not to get each other gifts, but one of them (same one who started this last year) hinted that she had 'a little something' for each of us anyways, but no need to reciprocate.

If it's relevant, we are in the US, all white, and all varying degrees of atheist/agnostic/ex-christian.

No idea if this will even get out of the queue before Xmas lol but: WIBTA if i stuck to our agreement to not get my coworkers Christmas gifts, even if they get me gifts anyways?

What are these acronyms?

[wordstome]

hi, new könig fan here 🙃(i was able to delay the brainrot only for so long and now he has bewitched me body and soul) so...i've stumbled upon you and went through your whole königcore tag and *chef's kiss*, yes to all of that 😌(i'm sure as hell that i'll dive into your works for sure💓) although what i've really barged in here for is to offer a few headcanons that my brain has been cooking (and you can choose not to post them if they are not your cup of tea lmao): -deployed!könig (since we're in december let's set it in this month) going back to rural austria to his family and bringing his gf with him, he'll probably even dress up as a krampus and partake in the krampuslaufen cause he's such a cryptid (also mask>>> and stalking/chasing people around, scaring the hell out of them>>>) -and to connect to this one a bit, cause food is my love language and this 6'10'' man has to like function, right? right. so he's deployed and he can 'take it easy' and cheat a bit (specially since it's the christmas holidays), so his abs are not as defined as they were 2/3 weeks ago and he might be getting soft here and there...he'd probably get self-conscious a bit and hide/avoid close contact with his gf until the issue get talked between them and she has to reassures him and all (sorry i'm exceptionally soft for him, it will happen again) and that was it, hope you have a great day ✨

Welcome to the König fandom! We're clinically insane <3 I'm glad you're here and thank you for checking my stuff out 🥺

I THINK ABOUT DEPLOYED KÖNIG ALL THE TIME! He would 100% partake in krampuslaufen (I saw a video recently of a parade in Salzburg, it looks like so much fun ;;), probably chases his s/o around a bit when he's in costume (he 100% uses tactical gear for it)

König strikes me as a guy who takes great personal pride in his ability to keep things tight, which is why I like it so much when he's portrayed a bit thicker and his s/o adores him. I love the idea of someone feeding him as much good food as he can handle (and he can handle a lot, that big ass boy) and still doting on him even when he feels insecure.

[stars-over-ice-cream]

hello and happy holidays!!! my secret santa was (surprise surprise lmao) @klance-daydreams :)) kd i hope you're having a great time and that you enjoy reading my fic lololol this was so much fun it even has two parts!! ty for organisning this <3

part one | part two

For the record, Lance blames this entire situation on Keith. After all, it’s his fault that Lance’s tongue is positively burned to a crisp, and it’s his fault that around fifteen cups of hot chocolate are missing from the kitchen.

“You need to take a course for damage control,” Pidge mutters, handing him a mop. Lance stares at it, shuddering.

“Pidge. Please, don’t make me go out there.”

“Hunk’s an angel, I’m busy taking inventory, and no one else is here right now,” they count off their fingers.

“I’m an angel too and you know it,” Lance mutters.

“You burn kitchens. The only thing Hunk burns is a crème brûlée.”

Lance ignores the urge to fangirl over Hunk’s cooking—there are more pressing matters at stake, believe it or not, like who should be the one to face the chocolate war zone outside.

“What about Keith?” he asks. “He’d love to be sacrificed.”

“What if you two went out together?" Hunk proposes, clasping both his hands together.

Lance almost short-circuits, replying in what feels like a delayed reaction. "Ew!"

His voice comes out high-pitched and wavering. He’s all for blaming this on the mess outside, it’s probably making his brain lag more than usual.

“What?” Hunk asks innocently. “What I meant is, uh, you two would be very efficient cleaners out on the battlefield. Not as in went out, like, on a date. Obviously.”

Lance doesn't like that look in his eyes.

"I'm revoking your access to my Netflix," he threatens, as Keith’s voice just so happens to echo through the kitchen doorway.

“Lance, if you’re blaming me for your pathetic heat tolerance, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Speak of the devil." The brunette rolls his eyes as a slightly miffed Keith swings the door open.

Despite being inside for at least an hour, his nose is still red from the below freezing temperatures outside, and his whole face actually seems slightly flushed, the more Lance thinks about it. A scarf dangles from his shoulders like an afterthought.

Lance raises his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you have taken that off, like, last century?”

It’s a low blow, but Keith set the bar when he decided to—what was it again?—oh, yeah. Chug three boiling hot chocolates in the span of two minutes. Then, with a stupidly pretty grin that Lance couldn’t say no to and eyes that seemed tipsy, challenge him to do the same. And because he’s such a trendsetter, which is a given, at least four other groups try the same task.

The result?

Altea Cafe, trashed. Hot beverages spilled on the floor, tables, even on the walls. Someone had the nerve to call it abstract art, as if they were doing Lance and his lot a favour.

“Very funny," Keith says.

“I do that sometimes.”

Giving him a signature scowl, Keith turns to Hunk and Pidge with a considerably nicer look on his face. “For the record, I’m sorry for the mess.”

“What?” Lance says. He does his best to ignore the curiously smug look on Pidge’s face—he knows that his mouth has been talking nonstop around Keith, but it doesn’t mean anything. Or at least nothing that Pidge and Hunk keep insinuating.

Keith stares at the blue-eyed boy, deadpan. “For the record, I’m sorry for the mess. I know an otorhinolaryngologist, if you want.”

Smartass.

Lance can’t deny that long words suit him, though. It just fits with the three piercings on his ears, the quick quips of his tongue, the sharp cut of his jaw. Long words are Keith’s thing, Lance decides. And it’s not because it makes his throat a little dry.

“Grab a mop and start cleaning, if you’re so sorry,” he says, suddenly fully aware that he’s probably been staring. Chucking an old mop over, it lands a metre from Keith’s feet.

“Impressive,” Keith says, sarcasm dripping off his tongue.

“As if you can say much!” Lance snaps. “Last time I checked, the mess outside is all because of you, so.”

Unaffected, Keith says flatly, “You were the one who dropped at least three cups from ‘adrenaline,’ and then proceeded to—”

“Nope! Sorry, I’m not fluent in lies and slander.”

Pidge snickers, exchanging looks with Hunk, who in turn clears his throat.

"Maybe you two would like taking this outside?" he offers, and if Lance hadn't known him for three years, he would've thought that Hunk was trying to be genuinely helpful.

Alas, he's actually playing the matchmaker card.

"No thanks," Lance says through gritted teeth. The last thing he needs is for his frankly embarrassing attempt at sweeping under tables to be seen by, well, him.

Him, at this moment, is a pain in the ass. But other times—when he’s not spouting libel against Lance like it’s his job—he can actually be quite nice. And pretty. And funny. And kind of hot.

Lance could go on about him for a while, really. It's a scientifically proven fact. Hunk once recorded a fifty minute swoon session for Lance so that he could realise just how far gone he is.

“Whipped,” Pidge snorted after Hunk texted them about it.

So, yeah. The severity of Lance’s romantic attraction is well known in his friend group, and yet he’s still subjected to knowing looks and waggling  eyebrows with no mercy.

It’s honestly ridiculous! One day, Lance is going to explode with embarrassment. How much can a guy take? High doses of Keith Kogane—aforementioned pain in the ass—and relentless teasing have probably been proven fatal, after all. It's a lethal combination.

Lance would know, seeing as sometimes, it actually does feel like he's fighting for his life. Even though he’s come to the conclusion that if he ignores Keith for long enough the crush will magically disappear. Despite what his friends think, it is a phase. Just like his thankfully short soft spot for Nyma, or Allura.

He just has to get over himself.

Interrupting his thoughts, Pidge says, "Lance, you must've got Keith really worked up if he's taken his hands out of his pockets."

"Hm?" he asks, neck craning to see the ever rare phenomenon.

"—anyways, all I'm saying is, if you weren't so loud about it, no one would've heard about the challenge, right?" Keith's saying to Hunk, hands widely gesturing.

Lance doesn’t find it cute. At all. But that's where he and Pidge disagree.

“Dude, you’re staring,” they mock whisper.

“No I’m not!” Lance shoots back, heated. Just to give himself something to do, he pulls himself up onto the counter.

Keith seems to have finished his recounting of the hot chocolate challenge, and he turns to Lance, eyes piercing, locking onto him with absolutely no precision—almost dazed, blurred. They’re so bright yet dark at the same time, nothing like what Lance has seen before, and the realness of the moment catches up to him in a heartbeat.

His throat is giving up on him, Lance is pretty sure. Go figure.

“What did I do now?” he asks defensively, forever on autopilot, preparing for another verbal jab. “Did I, like,—”

And that’s when it happens.

The voice crack.

Lance cringes so bad he nearly falls off the counter. He said goodbye, hell, he yelled goodbye to voice cracks in middle school. Hunk stifles a laugh, turning around to the cupboard, and Pidge closes their eyes, sighing as if to say you’re fucking kidding me.

And Keith?

He snorts, staring at Lance’s truly and deservedly red face, and starts giggling. Throwing his head back and laughing, the scarf almost unwinding  itself from him because he’s shaking that much.

What the fuck.

Keith turns around to face Hunk as if to say, you heard that too, right?, and the few seconds of silence dissolves into what Lance would officially clarify as hysterics. Great, lovely, absolutely perfect! At this rate, he’s going to have to give him back to Shiro with a no return policy: Lance cannot, and will not, look Keith in the eye again. Ever.

It’s a matter of respect and dignity, and Lance really doesn’t appreciate the Pidge inside his head doubting the fact that he has any left. Whatever. This entire day has been a shitstorm, and if he even glanced at the cafe it would only be physical evidence of that.  

But the worst part?

Mortifying as it is, Lance can’t find it in himself to look away from Keith’s face. The kitchen’s overhead lights catch a glint in his eyes, and all of a sudden Lance deems his laugh the best sound he’s ever heard, even if it’s an outcome from possibly the most embarrassing moment of his life.

As the seconds wear on, Keith’s laughter doesn’t really subside (which is a pro and con for Lance, the more he thinks about it) and soon he’s wheezing, doubled over. Honestly, it’s a wonder he hasn’t collapsed yet. Pidge has their phone whipped out—who needs paparazzi when you’ve got a gremlin with a penchant for blackmail?—and Hunk is batting his eyes at Lance, gesturing at his cheekbones, mockingly swooning.

“Shut up,” Lance would’ve hissed, if it weren’t for the fact that he doesn’t trust his own tongue anymore.

“It’s official,” Pidge says. “You’re a safety hazard. Look at Keith, Lance—” Lance wants to cry, that’s literally all he’s been doing—“you’ve broken him.”

“I think you should do something,” Hunk suggests. “To make up for his… malfunction.”

“I’ll apologise to Shiro when he comes around,” Lance replies, wondering if he should text him in advance. It might cause a little bit of whiplash, after all.

“Uh, no,” Hunk says, affronted. “You should make it up to Keith.”

“Maybe us, too,” Pidge says wryly, “we deserve financial compensation for listening to that voice crack.” Lance scoffs. “But seriously, Keith.”

“You guys are making this into such a big deal,” Lance says. “I didn’t even do anything!”

His two apparent ‘best friends’ give each other a Look, and it’s almost like clockwork, the way they subtly try to leave.

“Would you look at that?” Pidge yawns, staring at their watch. “God, I forgot. Me and Matt have to get dinner ready. Oops.”

“It’s four in the fucking afternoon, Pidge.”

“Dinner takes a lot of time to prepare, Lance,” Hunk reasons. Traitor. “And I have a date with Shay, too. Guess I’ve gotta go.”

“Guys, please,” Lance almost begs, “I can’t be alone with Keith! Not when he looks drunk off his ass!”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he is,” Pidge mutters. “It’s, like, the only cure for crushing. Not that I would know.”

“What?”

That’s the second time—nope, scratch that, third time—today that Lance has nearly lost it. What do they mean, ‘only cure for crushing’? Is that the Pidge way of letting Lance know his crush on Keith is, well, unrequited? That he’s in love with someone else?

Christ. Well. Thanks, Pidge.

The door slams behind the two, a quick and cheery ‘bye!’ being Lance's only answer to the question.

He turns to Keith out of pure confusion, only to find the raven head slumped against one of the counters, sitting on the floor with his eyes closed.

Yeah, hands down, this is the weirdest day of Lance’s fucking life.

Keith hums, and Lance wonders whether he’s actually drunk—that would explain a lot, like his flushed face and skewed behaviour.

He doesn't really know what to say. Or do. It's awkward, and the silence only paves way for what Pidge said: it's, like, the only cure for crushing.

"Hi," Lance says, because if he thinks about it too much he will probably start crying, the tightness of his throat tells him that much. Hopefully he'll be blessed with Keith saying something dumb instead as a distraction.

"God, I sound like a loser," Lance mutters after a few moments of no reply. "What say you, Kogane?"

Nothing.

"You're dry as fuck."

Rinse and repeat.

"Practically burnt toast."

Once more with feeling, he supposes.

"But Keith, the thing is, expired bread grows mould, not ugly mullets."

The asshole doesn't stir at all—and no, Lance definitely isn't upset about it. He just thinks that it's too smart a line to be wasted on an unconscious Keith.

It's stupid that he's getting ghosted by him in real life. Embarrassingly stupid.

So, like a good Gen Z, he gets out his phone.

part one | part two

[narrators-journal]

I'm coming home for Christmas

This was a bit of a curveball bc I don’t write much for a Machi. But! I had a lot of fun writing for her! And some WLW is always nice! I hope this is good and fluffy, with plenty of Christmas vibes! Sorry if it’s a bit short for the time it took, I took a bit of time for some more indulgent projects to refresh before I returned to asks. There’s another one in the wings, but god help me with that bc u hxh bitches (affectionate) sometimes hit me with the craziest of f/o requests that I forgot existed LMAO. Guess that’s what I get for still refusing to refresh on hxh’s anime <3

As a woman with a long-distance girlfriend like your Machi, you knew better than to expect even a face-time call for Christmas. So, you simply made yourself some adorable Christmas cookies, put on a movie, and settled down onto your couch for an evening of lightly unsettling stop motion and self-indulgence.

At least, that had been your plan for the night, with, of course, room in the schedule made for a potential phone call. But, you didn’t expect a call from the pink-haired beauty that you had the honor of calling yours. So, it was a bit of a surprise when the sun set on your snow-blanketed apartment building and you had just begun Rudolph, and somebody knocked at your front door.

With a press of a button, you paused your movie and listened for a long, tense moment. Your plate of cookies forgotten on the coffee table, your senses on edge, and your eyes locked on the handle of your front door while your brain ran through any escape routes or weapons you had on hand for a break-in. Until, “Hon, I know you’re in there, you can open the door.” The anxiety popped like a bubble, and you were at the front door to throw it open and see your slightly monotone girlfriend out in the chilly, flickery, hallway.

Machi stood before you with a flower in one hand, a reindeer antler headband nestled into her wild, fluffy pink hair with one of the flimsy felt antlers drooped forward. She looked tired, with a homemade splint on her wrist, but you could tell that she’d at least tried to get a bit dolled up, as she had on a clean t-shirt and a good pair of jeans that only had one suspicious rip along her inner thigh. She had even used the techniques you’d taught her to put on a touch of concealer, blush, and light pink lipstick to try and soften her strong, beautiful, experience-chiseled face. “Mochi! How the hell are you here?! I thought you were out of town for work until after new years.” asked as you let the woman into your home and accepted the rose from her. “My boss let me off a bit early because I got my tasks done. I decided not to tell you to try and surprise you for Christmas.” She explained with a small, slightly awkward ‘tada’ gesture.

Machi wasn’t that good with emotions. She was clinically cold, she had to be with her childhood, so being warm and affectionate was a challenge for her, even when it came to you. Which, you had gotten used to and grown to find quite charming. Especially when she showed her affection with little moments like how she followed you into the living room to watch you put the offered rose into a cup of water and plop back onto the couch to return to your movie. With how she kept the goofy headband on as she sat beside you and draped her well-muscled, powerful arm over your shoulders to let you cuddle into her side and return to Rudolph.

Neither of you spoke as you settled for the cheesy movie. You had learned not to pry into whatever nebulous work the pink-haired woman had, and not to ask about the damage she’d gotten to her wrist. You knew better than to ruin the moment and your holiday by extension.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Heyo! Love your work btw *chef kiss* I'm obsessed with your poly turtles stuff. Could you maybe do some Christmas poly headcannons? Seasonal Activities they do with their s/o, possible gifts they receive, fav cookies/treats, fav Xmas music. Idk just some festive stuff? If you're busy that's cool 😎 your poly turt stuff has me needing more haha. Thanks!

Ok, I'm pretty sure I got this before Christmas and it's now May. I'm so sorry. I won't go into all the reasons I haven't really been writing because it's a lot but I want to get back into it so here goes with this very unseasonal post lmao

and thank you everyone for you patience as I get back into the swong of writing for my blog

Raph

This big hunk of red and green first

He's very seasonal if you think about it

He's also super (secretly) into the holidays

catch him doing his rendition of rockin' around the Christmas tree very loudly when he's off his tits on eggnog

((side note I think he would hate eggnog but would drink it solely because it's festive))

He's secretly super sentimental and he knows you love this time of year so he really puts his back into it

I'm talking it's the 1st of December and he wakes you up in a full Santa outfit and white beard (that he knitted himself) yelling "Ho Ho Ho!" and asking if you've been naughty or nice

it's like 6am so you, naturally, tell him to piss off

to which he makes a big show of trying to shove you into his Santa sack because "Someone needs a trip to the North Pole to learn the Christmas spirit"

He's also pretty good with crafts

obvs you guys can't go outside and be seen so he creates a whole winter wonderland in the lair (without telling the others, Mikey was the only one who appreciated it tbh)

also he's a great cook so you spend evening after evening baking sugar cookies and decorating them, sipping hot chocolate with a candy cane in it and whipped cream on top, making warming winter soups.

In terms of gifts, he gets you anything and everything he even thinks you might like

real big spender this one

handmade too items like a scarf he knitted for you because your old one was a bit worn, handmade card, he even did a little snow globe that he made with figures of you and him inside of it

he'll say "I know it's lame" or "It's not the best but I tried" but it means the world to you

Leo

Big boy blue up next

I see him loving a very traditional, old fashioned, classic Xmas.

His big thing is that he loves to decorate the tree with you

but you would always bicker about how it should look

"No, I think a gold and red theme would look better!"

"But, Leo, we have all of these cute glass candy canes I wanna hang!"

"But I have a vision!!"

so this year he decides to buy like 6 trees (and by buy I mean forage, steal or cut down)

so you can both have your own trees and decorate them however you want

this, obviously, becomes a Christmas competition

your very unwilling judges are Leo's brothers and even Splinter

they have never looked more uncomfortable than when you and Leo are very passionately stating your case for why your tree is better than the other's and it ends in you both throwing baubles at each other

about half an hour and a lot of tinsel lying everywhere later you decide that maybe you're both a little too competitive

but Leo reassures that "That's why I love you"

He's so big on quality time with you

lot's of sitting by a crackling fire, sipping coco and letting soft Christmas songs play

he's made a playlist of v gentle ones like Eartha Kitt's Santa baby, Conventry carol and god rest ye merry gentlemen.

it's all about the mood w/ Leo

as far as gifts, it's has to be something personal and sweet

a pressed flower in resin from the first day you both met, a silver heart shaped locket with a pic of you both in it, some sort of talisman that's supposed to keep you safe in ninja superstition

Mikey

Time for chaotic good to come to play

Mikey just manages to capture that almost childlike enthusiasm and wonder for the season

He has a funny habit of wrapping your gifts to look like something else

last year you were certain he'd gotten you a rocking horse but it turned out to be a new phone and headphones

"How long did it take you to wrap it like that?"

"Don't ask questions you don't wanna know.....3 hours to make the horse part look right"

normally he gets you silly but sweet gifts

lots of sticking filler things

oh and he gets you an actual stocking too, but like a comically oversized one to fit all the gifts

stuff he's made too

one year he made you 50 hand cut paper snowflakes with 50 reasons he loves you written and drawn on them

also stuff you guys can do together

video games he knows you'll find fun, stupid interactive games that you can play, that kinda stuff

he does a special Xmas scavenger hunt for you each year that the others pretend is stupid but it keeps getting more elaborate as time goes on and even they are started to get invested in the ending

there's a theme and everything ranging from polar express to murder at the Christmas party to Santa's grotto....

he also never fails to dress up as Mrs Clause every year (because Raph insists on being Santa and at first Mikey just wanted everyone to laugh, but now it's kinda a tradition)

Donnie

oh my sweet gadget boy

he's super big into cocktails, the sweeter the better

and you always get to name them together but you both have a warped sense of humour so the names are getting out of hand

you pick a fave each year as well

last year was "The abominable snowman's frozen left nut" and the year before was "Mrs Clause putting glass shavings in Santa's food because he came back with the clap"

I told you they were bizarre....

his gifts are always thoughtful and so romantic

I HC Donnie as being a super romantic guy

whether it be a painting he made of the constellations and planets in correct placement on the night the two of you first kissed

or a wreath of dried flowers and plants to hang on the door that came from the field behind your childhood house

but this year it's a scrapbook filled to the brim with every detail of the two of you, all dated and with a little annotation telling a story as to why it's in there. photos, cards, handwritten letters, magazine cut outs, diary entries.... it's all in there and it's enough to make you cry.

He also sneaks you out on Christmas eve every year without the others knowing (they'd flip if they came to know that he was stealing you away at that time)

but he takes you up to the rooftops to sit on blankets and drink hot chocolate (spiked with a little rum, it's Donnie after all...) and look at the lights and snowflakes and people bustling home to their families and you sit and feel at peace and laugh as you make up backstories to each individual you see scurrying home

you lean against his shoulder and every year that he does this it feels more magical than the last

[hoshizorax]

i've thought about it and i'm likely going to end up doing another sb spree. just for my own mental sake. also likely going to not be reblogging memes for a while. this time of year, i cling to the little bit of serotonin i do have and i apologize to the people who are waiting for replies and such. i'll likely get to those soon. i have no clue when but hopefully throughout the week i'll work on them a bit at a time.

i'm currently brain rotting over y/akuza stuff (if it isn't obvious enough lmao) and also hyper focusing on my female muses as i have actually been able to get the muse for them and stick with it. my guys aren't going anywhere obviously, i've just spent a loooooooong time writing guys and it's really hard for me to keep it up nowadays.

i stick with disco a lot during this time as it doesn't take nearly as much of my mental energy as tumblr does. i will lurk and post every now and then but that's all i got right now. sorry for being selective with threads atm. i just reply what i have most muse for and right now it's really hard to get certain muses to do anything. irl stuff really be kicking my ass around this time. i know i've not given many people much of an explanation as to why i am damn near nonexistent here lmao i'm sorry for that, too. it has nothing to do with anyone.

anyone is free to send me prompted and unprompted asks. just because you don't see me around doesn't mean i don't like seeing that stuff. i'll definitely get to it. also, feel free to hmu if you want to plot something out with any of my muses. that's probably the best way for my muses to awaken and actually do more things. the holidays are usually just.. one thing after another as i'm sure it is for everyone else.

[honeysuckleharringtons]

Part Five: "Seasonal Specials" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: (Then) Christmas Eve has rolled around, and unfortunately for a very pregnant Reader, she is stuck at home with a migraine. Luckily for her, her younger brother doesn't make for too bad of company. — (Now) A slow shift at Brew and Me turns out to be a good night for advice and a call from everyone's favorite nursing student.

Pairing: Nurse!Steve Harrington x Fem!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 1,900

Content Warning: teen pregnancy, discussions of homophobia, discussions of abuse and allusions to physical abuse, discussions of slut-shaming, Reader is lowkey bad at advice when it comes to these topics LMAO, explicit language, food consumption (Reader drinks hot chocolate), not really a warning but Will is gay and autistic in this series, as always lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: this should've been posted way earlier, i am so sorry it wasn't. hope you guys enjoy though!

Originally Written: 12/21/2023 through 12/25/2023

honeysuckleharringtons' main masterlist can be found here!

'brew and me' series masterlist can be found here!

[ Then, December of 1987 ]

Christmas Eve. It was Christmas Eve and you were stuck at home with an excruciating headache.

You supposed it wasn't all bad. After all, staying at home was preferable over the rare occasion that you did leave the house, when everyone would stare you down like some caged animal at the zoo. Unfortunately, the same could be said for your family—no, not your immediate family, who'd helped you more than ever since you'd entered your third and final trimester—whose reactions had ranged from disgusted to sympathetic.

When you'd gone to the family's end-of-summer family reunion, you'd tried your best to hide the tiny bump you were sporting at the time. However, your aunt Judy had taken notice of your particularly round belly, and immediately figured out that it wasn't from one too many hot dogs at the cookout. Ever since then, you'd heard every comment in the book, everything from "whore throwing her life away" to "so sad she thought that was her only option."

So, instead of listening to the endless insults from your distant relatives, you'd prayed for some way out of the gathering. Unfortunately for you, God had a sense of humor, hence the excruciating headache.

The sound of the microwave beeping in the next room over set you off all over again, the noise like a hammer to the head. "Will, can't you tell that thing to shut up?" you groaned, covering your face with the compress he'd made you.

"Unfortunately, I don't think that's going to help," he joked. You couldn't tell if you wanted to laugh or kill him for his sense of humor. "Here's your hot chocolate."

You sat up ever-so-slightly, taking a small drink of the deep brown liquid. Almost instantly, the warmth of it made you feel a little better. "Thank you." You reached a hand over, ruffling his already messy hair. "By the way, you didn't have to stay home with me."

"And listen to Uncle Howie tell me how we're both going to hell? I'd rather have that headache of yours."

A snicker escaped your lips, knowing exactly what he meant. "Okay, maybe Uncle Howie is a bit too opinionated on the sex lives of sixteen and eighteen year olds, but you don't have to listen to him. I mean, you're missing out on Grandma's fruitcake, which is your favorite part of the holidays."

"After last year, listening to half our cousins tell me I'm fruitier than the cake, I don't think I'll ever eat it again." Will pulled his knees up to his chest, his face overtaken by an expression that looked a lot like longing. "Besides, it's not really worth it to me."

You set your mug aside before placing a hand on his knee. "What do you mean?"

"The way the family talks about you… I thought I was the black sheep of the family. You might as well be a purple sheep."

Your pregnancy hormones must've taken over, because instead of a normal reaction, you found yourself beginning to cry from his words. No, not because of pain from his statement, but rather comfort in knowing that he'd rather miss out on the finer things of life if it meant sticking up for you.

Will, and his lack of social cue skills, stared at you for a moment, unsure what to say. Eventually, he landed on, "Sorry if I made you more upset. I didn't-"

A small huff of amusement left your mouth as you shook your head. "No, Will," you smiled, reaching up to wipe away your excess tears, "I'm just… I'm really happy to have you."

He flashed you a closed-lip smile, one that felt so genuine and unapologetically Will. "I know you'd do the same for me."

[ Now, December of 1991 ]

"I would, kiddo. I really would."

Aster Bay was a different kind of beautiful at the holidays. Sure, the small college town was normally beautiful, but upon seeing the small-town glow overtake the place, you were sure you hadn't seen anything like it.

Apartments and beach-side condos decked out in Christmas lights, a tree as high as the clouds in the town square, students dressed in Christmas and Hanukkah sweaters, their dogs in matching attire. The town felt like your own personal snow globe, tiny flakes flooding the ground beneath your feet with every step.

The magic of the holidays of course carried over into your favorite little coffee shop, decorations of red and green covering the walls and counters while the smell of peppermint wafted through the air. Unfortunately for you and Max, the one thing your little coffee shop was lacking this Christmas Eve was customers.

Neither of you were really sure why the store was open. Nearly everyone had gone home for the holidays—students, patrons, and other baristas alike—and the store was dead quiet, aside from the soft sound of Sinead O'Conner playing on the overhead speaker. Silent Night is accurate, you thought to yourself.

"So, where's your lover boy at this Christmas Eve?" Max joked, breaking the long-winded silence.

You sighed, secretly longing for the nurse she spoke of. "Apparently they gave him a week off from the hospital so he went home to see his folks." A small wave of loneliness had come over you when Steve had told you about his departure a few days prior, when he stopped by to grab a latte for the road.

"That's nice. At least he's hopefully having a good time, not working on the holidays like some of us," she said lightheartedly. Though, you could've sworn you heard a hint of sadness in her tone.

"Hey, how come you aren't at home with your folks?" The question had been a simple one, but when Max looked up at you, you could tell her answer was about to be anything but simple.

Her arms folded tightly in front of her chest as she looked at you, a sigh falling between her plump lips. "It's… complicated."

You placed a loving hand on her shoulder. "I know we're only coworkers and we aren't really supposed to bring our personal lives to work with us, but you know you can talk to me, right? I'm your friend, plus I'm a mother so I have problem solving skills now."

She huffed in amusement at your last remark. "It's just… I can't really say a lot but my life in California, it's not as good as my life here. And as much as I love my mom, there's just… well, it's just better for me to stay here even as much as I miss her. Besides, it's not like I make enough to fly home and Neil certainly isn't going to pay for my flight."

You could tell from the clear distaste in the way she said Neil that she didn't like to say his name anymore than she had to. Unfortunately, you knew all too well what that was like, and there was a certain name that left a bad taste in your own mouth the same way Neil did for Max.

"I can't give you much advice because my dad was the one that left, but I promise, it does get better," you empathized. "You made the right decision by staying here. I'm proud of you, Max."

She began to fiddle with the sleeve of her flannel, her eyes darting away. "I hate being here though. I can't help my mom from here. There's no telling what he does to her when me and Billy are away."

You knew exactly what she meant by that too. "I know it doesn't seem like it, but that'll change too. Eventually he'll get tired of you and your mom fighting back and he'll leave. That's what my dad did anyway."

"The thing is," she paused, licking her lips, "I'm not sure my mom wants to fight back. It's like she wants to deal with Neil's bullshit. I mean, she divorced my dad over not making enough money and then she married Neil, who is still scraping at the bottom of the barrel to keep the lights on every month. Not to mention, she dated like ten guys in between and broke up with them for way less, but she'll always find a way to justify his actions."

You shrugged your shoulders. "My mom put up with it for seventeen years before she started to truly fight back." A small wave of silence came over the room before you continued, "I'm sorry I don't have much advice. I guess my situation was just a little different than most survivors'. One thing I can tell you though is that I'm proud of you for making the best decision for yourself. I know it's hard to put yourself first sometimes."

Max gave you a crooked smile, finally looking up at you again. "As much as it sucks that we've both been through a bad thing, I'm glad I have you to talk to about it."

"Of course, love. You're like a little sister to me."

Cutting your conversation short, the phone began to ring, the sound grating on your nerves. You loved your job, but it was Christmas Eve, damn it. In all honesty, you really just wanted to be at home, drinking hot chocolate with your girl in your lap and a movie playing on television.

Still, you picked up the phone, answering with the signature, "Happy holidays from Brew and Me. What can we do for you?"

"Can you tell me your seasonal specials?" said a familiar voice, his smirk audible in his tone.

"Steve! You're supposed to be on vacation," you scolded, though internally you were extremely happy to hear his voice. What is wrong with me? you pondered silently.

"I am, but I couldn't resist calling and ordering something."

Your brows furrowed at his statement. "How does that work?"

"Order anything you'd like and I'll pay you back when I get back to town. Think of it as a Christmas present, or whatever you celebrate."

"That feels like cheating, Harrington." Your eyes narrowed, despite his inability to see it.

"You don't have to tell me what it is, just how much I'll owe you," he replied. You could hear a fireplace crackling quietly in the background, and you could easily imagine him curled up in front of it, his skin covered with a thick Christmas sweater, glasses perched on his nose as he read a novel. "Same for Max or whoever else is working. Treat yourselves, courtesy of me."

"Well, thank you, Steve. We appreciate it," your lips curved upward into a smile as you spoke. "I hope you're enjoying your time off."

"I am. I'm sorry you have to work on Christmas Eve." You could almost hear the frown on his lips as he sympathized with you.

"It's not all bad. After all, I'm getting to hear from you."

"Careful, Byers, or I'll start to think you like me back," he smirked. Butterflies went off in your belly, your cheeks warm and surely rosy.

You were sure full sentences had escaped you, considering Steve had the ability to take your breath away and make you blush like no one else could. So, you stuck with what you knew you could say without stumbling over your words. "Happy holidays, Doc."

"It's a very happy holiday when I get to talk to you, Y/N."

So tumblr hates me...

I went over 24 hours thinking this chapter posted, only to find out tumblr ate it somewhere between my drafts, my queue, and my posts 🤦🏻‍♀️ this app loves to embarrass me

Anyway, I hope this was worth the extra long wait. It sucks that I'm posting it after the initial Christmas magic is over but I hope you guys liked it regardless! I will see you back here on Sunday for chapter six, which will be posted on time, fingers crossed!

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @corrodedseraphine @manuosorioh @esoltis280 @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic

[arikihalloween]

what has your experience been with commissions?

Haha well

I'll be fully transparent, I'm very rarely commissioned

I've had my comms open since like, 2021, 2020 maybe and since then I've only done 6-7 comms total

Not like I can complain much, since I've never actually needed to rely on commissions unlike others (tho rn that kinda money would be a great help for food/rent for me lol)

I kind of already know why I'm not commissioned much

1) I don't advertise myself all the time

2) I'm a small artist and until last year I had no visibility, much less an art style people would actually wanna buy

3) I'm a very gift giving person so I have a bad tendency to do comm level of work for friends or family lmao

But I disgress

As for my experiences with the few comms I had, it actually went great ! I've never been scammed, and only had very understanding and sweet clients, most of them being actually people close to me in some way

I recommend to always stay aware of the type of scams people do to artists who take commission, some are really common and easy to spot, and knowing them lets you avoid being, well, scammed

Other things for commissions that I learned, is that communication is key, boundaries are a must, you gotta respect your client and yourself too, and if you can, have the payement in advance. And also, don't underprice yourself ! A fullbody render with background SHOULD NOT ever be under 20$ !!

Ik it's scary to price your art high when starting out or when you're a hobbyist, that's also why I'm still within a 10€-25€ range at most for my art. But those prices are not actually viable to make it a living, and I fully know that. If I wanted to make a living out of it, I'd charge straight up in the 50-70 if not hundred at minimum lol.

Tbh I wish I could be commissioned more

Especially as I'll be free for the next four week, I can work on some and it'd help a lot as I said before.

I have my prices pinned everywhere on my socials, and my dms are always open to order :3

Good to note that I offer a 40% discount on holiday themed commissions, goes for any religious holiday (not just christian)

I'm putting my prices here again as well as exemples (sorry anon who asked but I'm taking an opportunity to advertise mwahaha)

In order, we have :

Lined work, sketch, colored fullbody with basic rendering

Artfight pages with various works, from simple render, flat colors, simple or complex bgs

Fully rendered artworks

Flat color no line, and AU ref sheet

I have various styles and render methods (yay polyvalence)

[tinyhuman826]

Holiday Headcanons - Leon

I'm sorry this GIF is making me smile so hard bro he's such a cutie patootie

Ok right off the bat Leon spoils the fuck out of his family for Christmas

He treats his mama so well he buys her flowers, jewelry, and sends her handwritten letters

He can go pretty wild with gift giving since he's got a lot of money from sponsorships and brand deals

I mentioned this is in a previous post but Hop still believes in Santa because he dresses up every year

He found Charizard wrapping paper. And since then it has been the only paper he used

Did someone say Christmas cookout??

His favorite meal is a home-cooked duck or maybe a nice smoked ham

He always helps his mom cook the food

He also takes it upon himself to bake cookies, they always end up slightly burnt but they still taste good

If you're his S/O...you lucky bastard

He pulls out all the stops

He'll take you out on a nice dinner a little before Christmas

Then he brings you home to meet his mama the week of Christmas

You all spend Christmas Eve with the entire family watching Hallmark Christmas movies on the couch

Leon loves those movies to death

Not as much as you though

He doesn't hang mistletoe, he just carries it in his pocket to hold over your head randomly during a conversation

Charizard and his team all get their own Santa hats

When he wraps gifts for everyone he always calls them his little elves

Charizard isn't that little but he's Leon's baby so according to him he is little

God imagine the two of you cuddling by the fireplace snuggling under his cape with mugs of hot chocolate

He gets so cuddly around the holidays and it's great because when it's cold he's like a portable furnace

God he's so fucking cute I cannot with this man

Buys you lots of scarves and hats and mittens to make sure you aren't cold when you two spend time in the snow

He dedicates a snowman to you

He also takes every opportunity to flirt

Making snow angels?

"Idk babe I think you're the angel here"

SCREAMING

He and Hop like to play lots of Just Dance and Mario Kart, especially with you

Hop constantly asking when he's gonna marry you lmao

His mama loves you too, she always makes you feel welcome

She even gave you a spare room for when you come visit

Leon is so fucking cute I might explode if I write more