#through replies not through my inbox its still closed lol
Note
omg i'm obsessed with the idea of spencer and a university student and i looooved the one you wrote with reader struggling with finals (i relate so much </3) i'm not sure if you write requests or not (if not, then i'm sorry and please ignore this hahaha) but i would love to see more of their dynamic? maybe spencer for once arrives earlier from a case and goes to pick up reader from university as a surprise? i don't really know but i would love to see more 💗 thank you and i hope you have a good day!
AHHHH omg you have NO IDEA how excited I was to open my inbox and see a request!! i am absolutely obsessed w spencer x uni student too
i kind of took this and ran w it so its a little angsty and random LOLOL but here is (drumroll)
spencer picking up reader after you fail an exam (sorry lol) and you are NOT in a good mood but he loves you so its fine
Tears, partly from the bitter wind and partly from shame, blur your phone screen as you exit the lecture hall. Another missed call from Spencer. It’s the third one today—you've been ignoring them in an attempt to remain focused on the final that you just bombed. Part of you now wants to keep ignoring them out of sheer embarrassment. How can you admit to your super-genius boyfriend that you are a bona fide academic failure? Still, you don’t want him wondering about you while he should be working. Your numb fingers fumble with the phone as you try to call him back without running into anybody on your walk back to student housing.
It doesn’t reach the second ring before he’s picking up.
“Hey,” he sighs. “I was starting to worry.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been busy,” you exhale, cutting through some trees as you approach your building. “What’s up? How’s the case?”
“Well... that’s actually what I’ve been calling about. We wrapped up this morning.”
“What? But last night you said it would be at least three more days.”
“Rare instance of me being wrong, I guess.”
“So when are you flying back?” you ask, not wanting to get your hopes up. You know sometimes his team stays behind to help with processing a case. He doesn’t reply for a moment. “Spencer?”
“I’m... thirteen minutes away from your school. Twelve.”
Your brain short-circuits as you process his words, the cold metal of the door handle biting into your fingers as you stop dead in your tracks.
“You--are you driving here right now?”
“Yes,” he begins, sounding embarrassed, “I kept calling because I wanted to ask first, but I know you had your last final this morning and you were going to come over when I got back anyway so I thought you might want to come stay with me for a few extra days. You can say no, obviously—”
Some of the icy despair melts in your chest.
“Of course, I want to.”
“Good,” he exhales a laugh. “It would have been awkward if you said no. Can you have a bag packed by the time I get there?”
You’re speedwalking through the lobby now, hitting the up button for the elevator more times than is necessarily effective.
“Drive faster.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
By the time you blindly shove enough clothing in a bag, text your roommate to let her know you’ll be gone for the rest of the week, and make it back outside, Spencer’s familiar vintage car is already pulling up to the curb. He doesn’t even bother cutting the engine—just puts it in park and gets out, rounding the vehicle as you close the distance between one another. His smile is brilliant, and though you don’t feel particularly deserving of it, it’s for you.
“Hi,” you breathe shakily as he loops his arms around your waist.
“Hi, pretty,” he says, already leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft and sweet over too quickly, but then he’s gently pulling you into him. You drop your bag and bury your face in his jacket, trying to right yourself before you go into an emotional tailspin.
As usual, he smells like lavender, clove, resinous amber. It makes your head spin. Right away you feel yourself relaxing; feel your guard slipping, like it always does when he’s around.
“I missed you.” The words are quiet to begin with, muffled further by the fabric of his coat, but you know he’ll hear you.
“I missed you too,” he murmurs, stroking your hair. “Everything okay?”
Why are you always surprised when a man who works for the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI accurately analyzes your behavior?
“Just tired. Can we go home?” You pull back enough to look up at him, meeting his fond—and just a little concerned—gaze, averting your eyes before he has time to discern your... omission of truth.
“Yeah, angel. Of course we can.”
He opens the passenger side door for you, making sure you’re settled before tossing your bag in the back seat and circling around the back of the car.
“Is that coffee?” You say as soon as he slides into the driver’s seat. His eyes dart down to the tumbler in the center cupholder as he buckles.
“It’s from the jet. You won’t like it.”
Despite his warning you reach over to grab it, taking a small sip as he puts the car into gear and pulls out of the parking lot. You make a sour face. Spencer glances over.
“I told you it was bad.”
You yawn, putting it back in the cupholder. “It was worth a shot.”
Jazz music plays quietly from the speakers and the heat is blasting, but you’re too busy mentally rehashing question 37 to find it relaxing.
“You didn’t get enough sleep last night,” he states. Not a question. Outside, the brick buildings of your campus roll by. You wonder if all the students rushing about on the sidewalks and side streets failed any of their finals.
“Couldn’t,” you mumble flatly, picking at your nails.
There’s a moment’s pause, and you’re imagining all the things you could have done differently. You’ve never failed a final before. If you’d just studied a little bit harder—if you’d stayed in instead of going out last weekend, if you weren’t so—
“I’m going to ask you something, and I don’t think you’re going to like it,” Spencer says.
“Mhm,” you hum, too afraid to speak because your eyes are already stinging again. Honestly, you’re surprised you made it this far without him getting the truth out of you. He offers his hand across the console as you slink down in your seat, and you take it, allowing him to run his thumb over yours in soothing lines.
“How do you think your final went?”
You bite the inside of your cheek, the bare branches of the trees outside blurring as you stare unseeingly.
“Not good. Like, I definitely failed, not good. I'm an idiot.”
“You absolutely are not an idiot.”
“You didn’t see me taking the test, Spencer. I literally just sat there staring at it for ten minutes before I even answered one question. It was pathetic.”
“Did you sleep at all last night?”
The question takes you by surprise. Your frown deepens.
“What? I don’t—that’s not—"
“Just answer the question. Did you sleep at all last night?”
“Yes!”
“Don't lie to me.”
“Fuck you! I slept for like two hours and had coffee this morning!”
He squeezes your hand.
“That’s why you failed.”
The first tear traces its path down your cheek, composure overwhelmed by the confrontation.
“I hate when you use your stupid interrogation tactics on me,” you say, voice wobbling. And then the crying begins in earnest.
“I know, baby.”
His hand moves to rub your back when you let go to cover your face. Torrential evidence of your frustration and utter exhaustion well over, slipping through your fingers despite your best efforts to stop them from coming at all. Having an emotional breakdown in the passenger seat of his car is far from how you’d wanted to greet Spencer’s surprise arrival, but you’re too worn out to mask your emotions—especially when he is so adept at drawing them to the surface.
A moment passes like that before you take a shuddering breath, raising your head slightly and wiping your cheeks with your sleeves in vain.
“I should have been able to do it. I just—it was like I was reading the questions and I knew that I should know the answers, but I couldn’t remember anything.”
“You’re exhausted. Sleep deprivation has an immediate, devastating effect on cognitive functioning levels. My recall and processing speed start to fail when I’m tired, too. It has nothing to do with how smart you are.”
It makes sense—but it doesn’t make you feel much better. You wanted to ace this exam. Of course, Spencer wouldn’t understand because school was as easy as breathing for him. He barely had to try to get three doctorates. It’s possible, you suppose, that dating a genius has put an academic chip on your shoulder—maybe you’ve set impossibly high standards for yourself.
After a few minutes the crying finally ebbs, if only because you’re running into supply and demand problems with your tear ducts. You rub your weepy eyes on your shoulder, leaning against the cold window and watching DC go by.
“You know, the final isn’t as important as you think it is. You’ll still pass the class.”
“It’s symbolic,” you mumble, breath fogging up the glass. Spencer hums, still rubbing your back.
“I know. I know it matters to you, but I don’t want you to think one bad grade is a reflection of who you are. Do you understand why it doesn’t make sense to measure something as abstract as intelligence by a metric as one dimensional as a standardized test?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
You shift in your seat, wiping your face with your sleeve and prompting Spencer to take your other hand once more.
“Can your FBI friend hack the university database and give me an A?” you ask after a moment, sniffling.
“Absolutely not.”
“Pretty please?”
“Nope.”
“It’s like you don’t even love me,” you mutter, angling yourself away from him.
He pulls your hand toward him and presses a kiss to the back of it.
“I love you so much that I don’t want you to get expelled for academic dishonesty.”
“It doesn’t matter anyway. I’ll probably just drop out.”
You both know you’re just being overdramatic, but Spencer has a tendency to be sweet even when you don’t deserve it.
“I’ll love you no matter what you do.”
You blush, unable to come up with a sufficient reply. His eyes slide to you briefly and he smirks, clearly enjoying his ability to fluster you, and by extension, get you to shut up.
“Eyes on the road, genius,” you grumble. But for the first time today you’re fighting a smile instead of tears.
#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#criminal minds
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OKAY GOOD NEWS AND BAD NEWS 😔 Actually not really
Good news: I'm coming back tomorrow, so new fics :DD replies (and apologies) for each comment in my inbox! Huzzah mfs
Bad news: i am unbanned at 3pm, my time. I live in Australia. Sooo i'm gonna use American time as a comparison because I'm ASSUMING a lot of you are american or close by.* Capital of Australia (Canberra) is 14 hours ahead of the capital of America (Washington DC). So, when I'M allowed to start posting, it'll be 1am for you guys. Turn off your notifs from me sorry. Ahhh i can't wait until 3pm i was gonna stay up and start working from 12am today 😭😭😭 oh well what can you do
*I'm actually very curious as to where you guys are. Like not in the creepy way, I'm actually curious. That makes me sound creepier. AO3 isn't a local based website, so I have people from all the way in Canada????? Hello??? They have moose??? So cool, man
So yeah 😀👍 Coming back soon guys
ALTHOUGH I might be a bit later than 3pm Aus time idk what plans are going on tomorrow but i might be roped into them idk yet
YALL I STARTED BUILDING THIS LEGO CENTREPIECE I JUST STARTED
Waiting for mods to lift the suspension, god knows how long that'll take. Pray for the ao3 team my friends
Still no update, please stay patient. :))
No update lol. Waiting for an email back from the team.
OH SHIT ITS WORKING
Ive crushed through 40 commrnts in like 5 minutes im so happy i replied to all of them in a separate doc as they came
#hazbin hotel#ao3 stuff#hazbin alastor#archive of our own#fanfiction#one sided radiostatic#hazbin vox#rant#chapter updates#alastor
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Hey besties! I debated whether or not I should make a post about it cause I don't want to seem dramatic lfjlskgsjdg, but I figured a lot of people follow me for my writing, and well, there hasn't been any writing going on lately (lol) and I don't even know if there will be, at least for a long while. I think I just might go into a little bit of a hiatus there because, I don't feel like writing anymore for a number of reasons, mostly because this year has been incredibly tough for me and my brain is absolutely mush. I want to write, but I can't physically bring myself to do it, even if the will is there and the ideas are overflowing. I'll still be here and everything (I have never made a side blog, all my silliness goes into one same place lmao), and if questions about my aus come up and stuff, I'll love to reply to those and brainstorm/fangirl about ideas together, but I can't say the same about actually posting fully formed stories.
Another thing is that I'm kinda burned out from fandom. Life is hard as it is and while fandom in general is amazing there are just parts of that suck, even from a distance. The discourse, the cliquey-ness, the hate people are receiving, the drop in interaction... I've always been cruising through different fandoms and avoid drama because I'm always in my little corner, but even while keeping to my corner, this is the first time that without even engaging in it, its found me? An interaction I had some months ago with someone just left a really bad taste and a weird feeling about posting stuff and not knowing with whom I could talk to, so I just distanced myself from it. Which is also kind of a bummer because I don't think I even had that much of a presence in the beginning? I don't want to seem like I'm whining, but, the reality is that my name rarely ever gets brought up in rec lists/posts and such, so it's kinda daunting to think that my work may not have as much transcendence in the fandom anyway when I've been here for a long while, and it does feel a little bit like, feeling left out, which bums me out. But ultimately, worrying about being active and posting fics regularly is just, such a silly thing to worry about when there are other things happening in life anyway.
This is not to say that I'm not acknowledging the people that have supported me from the beginning and continue to do so. If you've reblogged my stuff, or contacted me via dm or ye old inbox, know I freaking love and adore and appreciate you and that's what's exactly what's given me the motivation to write when things were tougher for me this year. It truly, truly means the world to me, and I consider you a bestie. It's so freaking special to me, every single time, when you reach out to let me know you enjoyed something I posted or that you're having fun with my ocs. So this part of it all is why I wished I was more active and that I had the energy to keep writing to interact with you, but I'm just not in the headspace for it right now.
And idk I just might be feeling a bit sensitive these days and becoming a bigger hermit each day, Ewan Mitchell style (lol), but I had it in the back of my mind that there are people that follow me for my writing, and that have even requested fics after I closed them, so I wanted to give these moots a heads up. I do have a lot of ideas I was excited about, not to mention tons of wips that have been left gathering dust so maybe in the near future I can find some time to write. I'm just not feeling inspired or motivated at all these days. If you're sticking around despite my blog being a whole mish-mash of spooky things and whatever blorbo is rotting my brain at the moment, you're seriously the best and I love you for it.
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🔪 this is a sideblog! if you see interactions from a blog called @halorocks1214 in your notifications, that's me :)
🩹 on that note, I go by Halo! I use she/her and he/him pronouns and am proudly aroace 💚💜
🔪 I'm one of those guys that has always been into whump as a kid—I REALLY enjoyed the kidnapping episodes in animated shows lol—but didn't have a name for that enjoyment until I got onto Tumblr and immediately felt at home with all y'all cool people 😎
🩹 as you may have seen by this blog's title and description, most of this blog's motif is sharing hurt/comfort content! I will be upfront and say that I project a loooot onto my faves, which is why I like to see them comforted so much (touch starvation is a bitch 😔) and in general prefer "soft whump" most of the time or explicit happy endings for the harder tropes i'm into
🔪 however, I still also enjoy whump because of its core foundation: being able to beat the shit out of your favorite character. sometimes, I will find something that does not have comfort in it that I want to share because it's simply too good not to! if all you're here for is that sweet sweet comfort, feel free to blacklist the tag #no comfort to avoid those sparse posts :)
🩹 outside of that, I tag art as #art and gifs as #gif as well as gifsets as #gifset when applicable; #whump trope for the posts that get more descriptive and #whump prompt for the posts that are more quotes/"fill in your characters here"-type interactions; #whump meme is self-explanatory and #whump community is for sharing love to all you lovely people out here browsing this corner of Tumblr; I occasionally tag #fave whumpee on characters that have stuck with me through the years (characters in the tag liable to change as time goes on); and of course, #~my stuff~ are the posts where I'm OP; #before whump was here is a cheeky tag I use for specific moments I remember feeling strong whumperflies for growing up but still had yet to learn about the term "whump" lmao
🔪 everything else is up in the air as tagging goes. I try my best to catch as many descriptors in a post as I can, but I'll admit some stuff could slip through. let me know if you think a post is missing something and I'll be sure to add proper tags 👍
🩹 my squicks are mainly things like pet whump, mind break, forced full-nudity, betrayal/broken trust between close characters (if it's because of a "twist villain" then that's fine), and heavy NSFW, so, for the most part, you won't see those on this blog, but my philosophy has always been that if it has comfort, I'm willing to give it a shot, so even if it's really rare, it could happen. remember to just let me know if I'm missing a tag!
🔪 my inbox is always open under the "💌 insert rambles here 💌" button if you ever wanna submit whumpy thoughts. I try to post everything I get, so feel free to hit me up! all answered asks regardless of what they contain will be tagged with #ramble tag
🩹 I will occasionally take requests in the form of "[A] replied to [B]" scenarios, sentence starters, or if you are feeling particularly nice, requests about my OCS! (questions and inquiries about them are always welcome regardless of request status) be sure to watch the "REQUEST:" blip in the description to see whenever they are open as I will switch "CLOSED" to "OPEN" to signify they are, and if they are open because of something like an ask game, I will convert the status into a link that will take you to the original game so you don't have to scroll through a bajillion things to get to it
🔪 as mentioned, this is 99% a SFW "soft" whump blog, but I still support my more NSFW and otherwise "dark" whumpers! I am a firm believer in that there is no "correct" way to enjoy whump. whatever your reason is that makes you enjoy it is valid and as long as you are properly tagging your content then keep on doing stuff that brings you joy :) we may not interact with each other all that often because of squicks or personal preferences, but just know that I will have your back and defend your right to write whatever you want ❤️🔥
🩹 I do believe those are all the topics I wanted to cover, so if you managed to make it this far, thanks for checking out my blog, and most importantly, the whump community in general! If you decide to stay, well, then hope you enjoy it to your fullest capabilities :D
#about me#GOD i wanted to make a shorter info post and just ended up making one twice as long how do i ACHIEVE these things-#regardless i got an influx of new followers (hello!!) and figured it was time for me to update a few things#esp since ive been attempting to interact with my blogs in a new way#also next post is my 800th post and thought it would be funny if this was it lmao
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Headlines - Chapter 13
Story Masterlist ✨
❤ chapter 1 ❤ chapter 2 ❤ chapter 3 ❤ chapter 4 ❤ chapter 5 ❤ chapter 6 ❤ chapter 7 ❤ chapter 8 ❤ chapter 9 ❤ chapter 10 ❤ chapter 11 ❤ chapter 12 ❤
NOTES ❤
❤ written from both Niall and Ophélie’s POVs
❤ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it.
❤ OU comedy/fluff/smut/romance
❤ 3.1k
❤ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox!
❤ idk if its good but... its up lol
❤ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE
TW: RAPE ATTEMPT
Ophélie
I glanced at Niall as he was driving, my elbow leaning against the door as my hand was holding my head. It's not that I didn't want to go to that party, it's mostly that I didn't want to see Viktor on my days off. I noticed Niall looking at me for a few seconds before putting his attention back on the road and for some odd reason, it made my heart jump in my chest.
"I can turn around and bring you back home if you prefer." he proposed gently, licking his lips. "We don't have to go if you don't want to."
I started nibbling on my bottom lip nervously without really knowing why. He was being kind these days and I liked it. I didn't know how he felt about that kiss we had shared at my favorite spot but all I knew was that it had nothing to do with PR. I had done it because I wanted it, and from the way he had kissed me back, he clearly wanted it too.
We hadn't talked about it. I just got pissed when I saw the headlines on the next day. Apparently, paparazzis had followed us and had taken pictures of us while we were kissing. It pissed me off more than I could explain, especially that I felt like it was a very private kiss that was not supposed to be public, but I could only guess that it was something a lot of famous people had to go through. Personally, I hated it, and I felt violated in a weird way. The articles were not bad. In fact, they talked about how in love we looked, and how nice of a couple we were, but it still didn't sit right with me because of the pictures. It shouldn't bother me, after all, that was the whole point of this fake relationship, but it did and I couldn't really explain it.
"I promised you we'd go, so we're going." I let out gently, sending him a soft smile.
"Pet, it's just a party. If you'd rather not go, it's okay with me."
This time, I turned my head completely to look at him. I loved the way he was driving with his legs spread, his knee close to mine, and I let my eyes move up from his thighs to his arms, his neck, and then his face. Suddenly, I realized how pretty he was. I always knew he was handsome, but at that exact moment, I realized he was more than that. Perhaps it was just because I didn't hate him so bad anymore that I could see him better, or just because I was not so busy arguying with him, but either way, I was the one who had changed and I didn't know how I felt about it.
"No, I want to go." I replied low.
He glanced at me and sent me a smile before nodding and putting his attention back on the road. We didn't talk for the rest of the ride but the way he held my hand as soon as we got out of the car made something stir in my stomach. Was it simply because he wanted this to be real or did he actually enjoy holding my hand now?
I pushed all those thoughts away when we found Lewis. He took me into a tight hug and gave us drinks before we followed him around. I was glad I hadn't seen Viktor despite the fact that we were at his place but there were so many people that I hoped I would be lucky enough not to cross path with him at all.
We sat in the living room, moving closer to each other whenever we wanted to talk, to make sure our voices could be heard over the music, and when Lewis made a joke, I blinked a few times, realizing all I had been doing in the past few minutes was to stare at him. I had no idea what we were talking about, I was just mesmerized by the way he smiled and laughed, his head falling back on his shoulders and his eyes shining from the lights in the room and the alcohol in his veins.
It made my heart jump so high in my chest that I had to swallow hard to make sure it wouldn't just escape. I quickly got up and Lewis stopped mid-sentence as they both looked up at me.
"I need... I need air. I'll be back later."
I left before any of them could answer and quickly reached the backyard. There was only a few people on the terrace but I walked past them and sat down in the grass, on the other side of the pool. I didn't understand how I felt anymore and it was bothering me. I didn't want to like Niall, or worse, and somehow, I felt like it was inevitable. I also tend to fall for people who didn't return my feelings and I was not ready for an other heartbreak. I was here for the career I always dreamed of, not to fall in love with some ex-boybander with a pretty face.
That thought made me grimace : I knew Niall was more than that, and I knew that no matter what I was trying to do, I couldn't lie to myself forever.
I lied down in the grass with a sigh, moving my knees up and closing my eyes. I thought moving away from Niall would make things clearer for me but it didn't. I breathed in deeply, trying to get rid of this weird sensation inside me, until I felt a presence near me. As I opened my eyes, I surprised myself wishing it was him joining me, but my heart skipped a beat when I noticed Viktor, smiling at me. He quickly sat next to me and I held my breath, feeling suddenly uneasy.
"Good evening, I didn't think you'd come."
"Niall wanted to come." I simply pointed out, making it quite clear that I didn't really want to be here.
"And you do anything he wants to?"
I breathed in again but decided to remain silent this time. I didn't want to argue about Niall. In fact, I didn't want to have a conversation with Viktor at all.
"Anyway, I'm glad you're here."
I blinked a few times and frowned, my eyes roaming on his face as he turned my way to look at me. I didn't like his tone and I didn't like his smile. Everything Viktor did and said made me uncomfortable. It was nothing new, I have always felt that way about him, but somehow, it was even more obvious at that moment.
"Okay."
"It's working, you know. I got the message."
"What message?" I asked, frowning even more.
"I know you're dating him to make me jealous. I know you regret not accepting to date me when I asked a few weeks ago."
"You didn't want to date me, Viktor, you wanted to fuck me, that's a big difference." I explained, getting a bit annoyed. "And I'm not dating Niall to make you jealous. In fact, nothing I do has anything to do with you."
"You know, you're gonna have to tell me the truth at some point if you want this to work."
I was about to answer something but when I felt his hand on my thigh, I felt nauseous and moved my leg away. "Don't touch me."
"Come on, you know you want this."
I didn't have time to react and within a second, I felt his body weight over mine. I couldn't believe he was doing this here, when so many people were in his house, only a few meters away, yet I was not sure it would help me in any way. He moved between my legs as I tried to hit him with my feet, the heels of my old rainbow converse meeting the middle of his back, and I got even more nervous when I felt him get hard against me. I didn't know what else to do and started fighting him back, using my nails to scratch his face and slap him whenever I could as my heart started racing.
"Hey, calm down." he whispered, grabbing my wrists and holding them on the ground as I tried to get out of his grip. "It'll be quick."
I was trapped under his body and I felt tears reaching my eyes, not really knowing what to do. I breathed in and started screaming as I was trying to fight him again. I yelled as loud as I could, begging for help and hoping someone would hear me.. anyone. It seemed to take an eternity but suddenly, Viktor was not on top of me anymore.
Niall
I was a bit surprised when Ophélie randomly got up and left. She had been acting weird recently, especially after that kiss she initiated, but I didn't want to rush her or make her uncomfortable so I decided not to talk about it. The problem was, every time we were alone together, we wouldn't mention the elephant in the room, but it was still there. I wanted to know how she felt, I wanted to know if she regretted it, but I didn't have the guts to ask her and I was mad at myself for being so coward.
I was not really listening to what Lewis was saying anymore, I just kept glancing around in hope to see Ophélie somewhere but all I could see was a lot of drunk people dancing and laughing.
"Mate, you alright?" I turned to my friend and just nodded quickly before he sighed and rolled his eyes. "How about you try and find her, yeah?"
My eyes roamed on his face and he raised his eyebrows with a small and amused smile on his lips. Normally I'd play the polite card and keep listening to whatever he was saying but this time, I just couldn't.
I just nodded and he did the same. It was all it took and I jumped on my feet, following her steps. I ended up on the second floor, looking in all the rooms and seeing a few things I really didn't want to see, but finally got back downstairs, feeling a bit stressed. I couldn't find her and I was scared something had happened to her, or that she had decided to leave by herself.
I reached the kitchen, grabbing a beer in a cooler and I heard it. A long scream that made a shiver run along my spine. I almost choked on my beer and threw it on the counter as I started running. I was pretty sure I had heard the bottle fall on the floor and break but I didn't care. I just pushed the people in my way to reach the backyard. The screams were louder and I knew it was her, but what I saw was not what I had expected.
She was throwing her feet at Viktor who was holding her down on the ground and something inside of me made me want to kill him. Literally. I ran to them and grabbed him by his hair, pulling him away from her and pushing him
"Stay the fuck away from her!"
I had pushed him so hard that I noticed a few hair left in my fist and quickly opened it to let it fall.
"This is none of your business!" Viktor yelled back, making me take a step closer to him.
"You fucking made it my business when you tried to fucking rape my girlfriend." I replied low, trying to contain the fire inside me.
"Rape? Oh please." he scoffed, rolling his eyes.
I knew I should calm down and leave, but I also knew it was about time someone put him back in his place. Without thinking, I took a step closer and threw my fist in his face. He took a step back and fell into his pool as I breathed in and out deeply. It looked like a bad teenage movie and I just shook my head at the irony that he and Ophélie were filming that kind of movie at the moment.
When he pulled his head out of the water, I took a step closer and shook my head slightly. "If you get close to her again I swear I'll rip your eyes out."
Before he could say anything, I turned around and walked back to Ophélie who was still sitting on the grass, crouching down to look at her.
"Hey, angel, are you alright?"
It took a few seconds until her eyes moved up to meet mine and my heart twisted in my chest. I knew she was doing the best she could not to cry and I raised my eyebrows at her, my lips parting slightly.
"Do you want to leave?" I whispered, making her nod. "Can I help you up?"
I didn't want to touch her without her consent, especially now that she had just been assaulted, but when she nodded again, I held my hand out to her. I helped her up and quickly, she snuggled close to me, her nose brushing gently against my neck. I brought her away from everyone and noticed a few people filming us with their phones. It annoyed me but I didn't mention it. I just brought her to my car as fast as I could.
I helped her in the car and put her seat belt on as she remained silent, and finally sat behind the wheel before starting the car.
"I'm bringing you back to your place." I let out gently. "Don't worry."
"No. I'd rather go to yours."
I glanced at her, a bit surprised by her words, but simply nodded and did as she asked. When I parked, I turned to her, noticing she had her feet on the bench and was curled up in an attempt to protect herself.
"Petal, do you need help?"
She shook her head and breathed in before getting out of the car. I quickly did the same and walked with her as she wrapped her arms around herself. She let herself fall on the couch and I quickly rushed to the kitchen to make some tea. I brought cups and put them on the coffee table in front of her before walking to my room and coming back with a blanket. I sat next to her, wrapping it around her shoulders and waited a few seconds. Slowly, her eyes moved up and I licked my lips, once again not daring to touch her.
"It's over, you're safe."
Quickly she threw herself in my arms again and I pulled her closer to me. She was almost laying on me, her face in my neck, as I held her tight against me. I could feel her shake lightly in my arms, and immediately knew she was crying. I closed my eyes, kissing the top of her head gently and inhaled deeply. I didn't know what to do or say to make her feel better so I just kept my mouth shut and hugged her in the dark.
I don't know how long we stayed like that but after a while, she fell asleep and I let my fingers run gently in her back to soothe her. I tried not to think about how much I hated Viktor to focus on Ophélie but I was angry. It took me a while to fall asleep too and when I woke up, she was still asleep. I moved a lock of her hair off her face and pressed my lips together.
It was hard to believe I hated her only a few weeks ago, but did I really? And why was I falling for some random girl I was only pretending to date? When the picture of us kissing on her secret spot was all over internet, I could have seen in her eyes that she was angry. I was not sure if it was because we had been spied on in a special moment or just because her hidden spot had been exposed. If I wanted to be honest, though, I had been surprisingly pleased to see the picture. I hated all the gossips and the fact that they literally followed us to take that picture was definitely appalling, but looking at the way Ophélie had kissed me made me believe there was actually something between us. It made me think that this kiss was not random, or just for fun. There was something between us : no one kisses like that without feelings, no matter how good of an actor they were.
Ophélie whimpered low and I held my breath, staring at her as her eyes fluttered open to meet mine. I noticed the black traces on her cheeks, dried tears that had seemed to stop time, and I licked my lips.
"Good morning." I whispered, making a small but sad smile appear on her lips.
She sat up and tried to tug at her hair but the mess was cute and the left corner of my lips raised up a bit.
"Hi." she said in a low tone, her eyes avoiding mine. "Look, I'm sorry for last night."
"No, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I didn't get to you faster."
This time, she turned to me and sent me a fond smile before bringing her hand to my cheek. I held my breath but she just shook her head slowly. "Thank you, Niall."
I swallowed hard, fighting the urge I had to kiss her. I wanted to answer something sweet but before I could say anything, she got up, letting the blanket fall back on the couch. "I really need a shower, if it's okay."
"Yeah yeah, you know where the stuff is, go ahead."
I waited until I heard the bathroom door close and closed my eyes against, sighing loud. I grabbed my phone on the floor and checked at all the notifications with a groan before clicking to a link someone had sent me. The headline almost made me throw my phone on the wall. There were a few pictures of me hitting Viktor and one of him in the pool, with the title in large letters. 'Niall Horan is jealous of Ophélie King and Viktor Montalvo's relationship!'
#niall horan#niall horan smut#niall horan fluff#niall horan enemies to lovers#niall horan story#niall horan love story#niall horan ou#niall horan fake dating#niall horan fanfic#niall horan fan fic#niall horan fanfiction#niall horan fan fiction#niall horan writing#headlines#my fanfics
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a.m.
no major warnings! just a slight make out sesh LOL
a/n; more vampire!levi!! kinda self indulgent since i wrote this on the brink of my insomnia and it's currently 1 am right now (might explain some typos??). also, if you guys have any ideas of your own that you'd like to add on/share, my inbox is open! i hope to interact w/ more of y'all on here T.T anyways, i hope you enjoy <3
---
On particular nights where you couldn't shut an eye no matter how many times you twisted and turned on your bedside – you often found yourself sitting on the sill of your window, moonlight shown in through the cracks of the sheet of pane and an unfinished book resting in the palm of your hand.
Eyes following the words on the page but you couldn't seem to turn to the next... You realized you had been skimming through the same sentence about 7 or 8 times. Huffing you set your book down in your lap, not bothering what chapter you had left on and glanced out into the midnight blanket that canvased the sky.
You were slightly annoyed at the fact that you couldn't succumb to sleep sooner, since you actually wanted some decent sleep. The past few nights have been restless to say the least and the only reason (person) that was the cause of this nonsense, was an all familiar face that racked your mind.
A pale yet sharp face burrowing into the depths of your skin, gunmetal globes that pierced through your own with one single glance, jet black strands curtaining his face in the most alluring way possible – it felt almost criminal how perfect this man was. Levi was his name and every part of him was chiseled to be molded into some sort of god, except ironically, he wasn't a god.
Far from it in honesty, but the thrill of a romance with something very much the opposite of what was considered "good", definitely tempted you more towards him than you expected.
Forbidden might they call it.
Despite that, you didn't care. If anything, you very much welcomed him in every aspect of your life. In the beginning, both of you knew not to get so close as it was too risky for either of you – but what's love without a little risk? It became too much for the two of you to bare, every chance was an opportunity and there was no hesitation.
Now, it's been far too deep to turn back and with visits only being at night, sometimes you couldn't stand being away from him for so long.
But he must've heard your thoughts, as you jerked back at the sudden noise knocking beside you
Levi was instantly recognized in your view and you bolted on your feet to unlock the handle of your window. Swiftly situating himself inside your room, he felt a pair of arms wrap tightly around him along with your smaller body crashing into his hard chest.
You pressed your face further into him, not wanting to waste a single moment of his presence.
His calloused fingers settled on your hair and began long strokes from your scalp to the ends. A hand rested on the small of your back as he cradled your body against his.
Lips made its way down to your ear and you shivered from the slight puffs of his breath against your lobe.
"I'm guessing someone missed me hm?" he whispered softly. You could hear the smile in his words and you simply nodded against him in reply.
He hummed at your gesture and brought you back to your bed with your body still propped against him in his lap. He swayed the both of you from side to side while occasionally, twirling the locks of your messy strands in hand.
Nothing was said for a while, not that there needed to be any words distributed to make the experience more enjoyable – everything always felt right no matter what. But Levi wasn't stupid, he knew something was off from the start. That's partially why he came here in the first place. While it was always a routine for him to visit you in the late hours and tidy up your place, he intuitively felt as if you needed him right that second. And now, he was here.
He still felt your rhythmic breathing on his chest, but he knew you weren't asleep – you hadn't been for a while.
"What's been going on y/n?" he starts out quietly. He patiently waited for your answer as you seemed to ponder your words carefully.
"Mm i've just missed you is all."
Blinking back at you, he pulls away for a moment to see how dark the circles of your eyes became since the last time he saw you. Why hadn't he noticed sooner??
You grew concerned at his deafening silence as he continued to inspect your face. You held your breath in the time he stayed attentive to you, then finally, "you haven't been sleeping".
For some reason, it felt more direct than his usual tone with you and he quickly takes note, rubbing circles into your cheek with his thumb. "You need your sleep love. You don't have to wait for me every night. I'm far from anyone you should be losing sleep over", he lightly chuckles and your gaze falls down to the floor. He didn't want to push you to speak more of you didn't want to, he was just expressing his mere concerns for his beloved.
"I don't know how to explain this, you've just been on my mind lately. It's like I can't stop thinking about you. It's not a bad thing of course, but I just... wish we had more time together. I wish we didn't have to make this whole thing a secret or only see each other at night." you confessed not only to him, but yourself as well. It had been the first time you confided with your truth and it left Levi speechless.
"Sometimes when you're out hunting for the night and don't come back, I worry sick over if something happened to you. It's not until the next night that I finally see you in one piece. I get to breathe after that." You look back up at him, intertwining your fingers with his and kissing the rough knuckles on each one.
God, he's so in love with you. just as you are with him. It doesn't take long for him to react to your actions and words, and pull you in for a profound, breathless kiss. It felt exhilarating. It felt real. He was real. He wanted to prove to you that he was and that he's never going to leave. You tugged at his collared dress shirt for more while he positioned his hands on the curves of your waist. Mouths dominating over each other and hands struggling to keep still – it was definitely a much needed moment.
You were the first to pull back for a break of air, panting in one another's proximity and taking the time to ground back to reality. He smoothed your hair down with the gentle movement of his hand and bumped his forehead with yours.
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting mon amour and for making you worry all those nights. but I will do everything in my power to come back to you. This I swear."
#chaloveslevi#shitrambles#levi ackerman#levi scenarios#levi ackerman comfort#levi fluff imagine#shingeki no kyoujin levi#captain levi#levi heichou#shingeki no kyojin#vampire!levi#oh yeahhhh more vamp levi#idk how i burst into my creative flow this late#contemplating if i wanna make this a tag where i put all my vamp levi writings under it??#depends if i get more ideas on this au lmao
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HII YOUR NEIGHBOUR ANON! OMGG I MISSED YOU ITS BEEN SO LONG! I hate tumblr for not posting your reply:( and i had also sent another ask after that but ig tumblr was being a bitch. Um i was so excited to write to you that i forgot what even was in your reply lol. Its july now so i assume your semester has also ended and you’re on break..? How are you doing?! And tho its too late now Happy Pride to you too! My birthday was also in June (i hate getting old😭)When’s your birthday? Omg i have alot to say but I’m a bit sleep deprived and that’s on me cuz I don’t even have any excuse to not sleep. Tell me what you’ve been up to?! Anything exciting happened in your life?!!
i didn't get any asks after that :(((((( really really hate tumblr yes that's the hymn. and no god. not even close to semester end. then i was yes. but not now. the new one started forcefully quickly in june and now we have a seminar in september for which we have to write research paper sample after research paper sampleand i just want off this ride now i will live degreeless i want off i don't careeeeeee!!!!
anyway yes i'm doing good, despite how bone-tired i am at the end of every day, this has quite ironically been the best year of my academic life. i just wish i wasn't so occupied with everything all the time. but yes, i had an hour long foot bath which made my toes go very comfortably numb (pun intended) so i'm doing good, thank you. how have you been yourself? sorry to hear about the sleep deprivation, definitely don't try coffee after 8 o clock, i've found it's not that great a coping mechanism apparently. but i do hope you've found another celebration to busy yourself with,- last time it was eid, this time maybe muharram? tell me if i'm treading the wrong waters here religiously or communally because i absolutely could be - as that is the best kind of busy one can be. sigh. oh and i was talking of celebratiions omg HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!!!!!! it's such a shame i couldn't wish you on the day of :((( but stiiiilll happpyyyy birthdaaaayyyy getting old is absolutely fabulous it just comes with an unwanted, very necessary side of responsibilities&othersomeseriousstuff but that's life.
also did you want Barbie &/or Oppenheimer??? because i've watched the former THRICE somehow and im still not as sick of it as i ought to be i just love it a lot i love barbie i love gerwig i love margot robbie i love ken i love ryan gosling and onandonandonandon. guess probably that could be taken as the exciting bit for me too seeing as i haven't done jackshit apart from reading and analysing and secondary reading and re-analysing through a second approach in a long while now. im going to end this before i fall face down on my keypad now.
SO happy you've not estranged me altogether and still are on my block. love you, sending you all the good summer days (because that's another shit thing that's happened here - fucking rains) and good sleep and rest <3333333 take care, write back soon. i shall be waiting at the door of my inbox forlorn like i'm a victorian heroine and we're actually sending actual letters between the two of us kiss kiss
in case of any typos/errors, do not contact original poster for she is just a poor boy from a poor family(the 1d fandom) spare her her life from this atrocity (grammatical corrections)
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Barbie Girls: Elina (ft. bibble the parakeet)
#barbie#barbie fairytopia#barbie elina#bibble#fashion#fairy kei#but like casual fairy kei#wheelchair#prosthetics#parakeet#Character Design#barbie movies#barbie fanart#fairytopia#Elina and bibble at the end of the film after the enchantress gifts her with dope prosthetics and a new chair#I have a whole modern fairytopia trilogy au and like you don't have to ask me about it BUT ALSO ASK ME ABT IT#through replies not through my inbox its still closed lol#also im doing illustrations for mermaidia and magic of rainbow too don't worry#barbie girls
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Goth Gf Anon🤙
Alright, alright, alright. Since that Tech piece was fucking phenomenal a d you said you don't get any thots of your faves, I'll lend one of my Fives thots.
So, it's the end of the war, Chancellor Palpatine had been exposed for his plot against the Jedi and executed for treason. The Republic and Seperatists made peace treaties upon realizing they were played on both sides. The war is over, Fives is a war hero, a statue in front of the Jedi Temple in his honor. But he could care less when you're smiling at him, tears in your eyes with the proudest glow on your face.
The Clone production on Kamino is halted, leaving the troopers, cadets and infants in a limbo. The Senate passes a bill allowing the Clones unalienable rights, passing adoption bills allowing civilians to adopt baby clones as their own. The Jedi also demand each and every clone has their chips removed. Scientists are working on a serum to slow their aging process down back to normal.
Fives rejoiced in victory, finally happy that the war was over and his brothers were treated as humans. But you.
He was over the fucking moons that he could be with you, not a war, battles or campaigns to keep you apart.
He marries you within the week of the marriage bill being passed.
You move to Naboo, Anakin had left the Jedi Order and started a home with Padmé and his twins, they visit you often, dropping off Luke and Leia when they're off on Senate business or off doing young couple things.
Fives loves seeing you with the twins, there's just something so domestic about it. When he sees you take care of them, make them giggle, feed them. And when the Skywalkers come back and praise you for taking such good care of their babies... it stirs something primal in his gut.
You two are intimate one night-- like many after you married. He's crawling up on his peak, he's right there, his brain switches off, spit firing shit as his thrusts start to stutter like the words rolling from his tongue, thick as honey.
"Y-you-- you looked so good with those-- shit!-- those fuckin' kids!"
"Wanna make you! Fuck, baby-- I'm g-gonna m-make you a fucking mother-- oh shit!"
"Gonna fuck a baby into you, sweetheart!"
And you're thinking: "What a pleasant turn of events."
Then you just start fucking feeding him.
"Yes, yes, yes, Fives! Anything you want! We'll fucking grow old together!"
You moan, "Put a fucking baby in me, cum deep."
And he can't hold it anymore, an inhuman sound ripped out of his chest and tearing through his throat as he slams into you one more time, his spend shooting deep. 11/10 best orgasm he's had.
Afterwards, you both talk it out. You've always thought about starting a family with him, thinking about how good of a father he would be considering the way he always looked out for his brothers. Fives explains himself a little more clearer after the fact, and you decide you'll go to the med center to get your contraceptive implant removed the next time it has to be replaced. You've decided you wanted to start a family with him.
Apologies if this was lackluster, I don't usually write smut lines lol.
Ciao ;)
!!!HOLY OMTHER OF GOD
I...I- don't even know how to respond to this. it’s late I KNOW but I’ve been trying to come up with a worthy reply.
whyyyyy did I start fucking tearing up when going through each word in the first half WHY this is so beautiful and Fives deserves so much more and I love him. this is perfect, you are perfect. when he starts blurting out his desires "Wanna make you! Fuck, baby-- I'm g-gonna m-make you a fucking mother-- oh shit!" I- uh- yeah. that sent me. "What a pleasant turn of events" LMAO. ME. please write this as a fic. lackluster? mmmm no not even close. I love this
But seriously, how do I even add anymore to this already perfect droplet of heaven you so graciously placed in my inbox. tbh though, my gutter brain immediately wants to analyze how that night goes:
(18+ only!!! fluff, breeding kink, unprotected piv)
***
you were blissfully unaware of the way Fives gawked at you earlier today - how he watched you with so much love and adoration in his eyes as you giggled with Luke and cradled Leia to sleep
It didn’t feel appropriate, but he couldn’t help but get hard at the vision playing out in front of him - wholesome domesticity, soft giggles, and hushed coos filled his very own living room and he just needed to step away to take care of his painfully hard and aching erection
Fives can't help it - up until recently he was sure on having a dark fate, one that either involved being killed on the front, or worse: never being able to truly make you his because of his sole duty to fight for the Republic just would not allow such a peaceful and perfect life - it would hurt you more than he would care to live through
He didn’t realize just how badly he wanted the twins to be his - living, breathing, beautiful humans that you and him had created out of love, and, well, good fucking sex
So Fives came back from the bathroom after tugging himself raw - trying to alleviate that wanting ache that’d been sitting heavy deep in his bones and showing its face in the form of starving arousal - and the Skywalker’s had returned from Coruscant to pick up their babies
Fives hadn’t turned the corner yet - the soft voices coming from the three of you, keeping quiet while the twins were finally asleep, stopped him in his tracks. He heard the way Padmé praised you and thanked you over and over for always watching the kids, and Anakin cooing in the sweetest voice Fives had ever heard his former General speak in right at his own sleeping babies.
Your own voice was extremely soft and kind, careful as to not wake the twins up in the hand-over. Fives’ heart - and cock - were aching.
That's what Fives is thinking of as he’s pounding you into the next system - watching with hungry eyes at how your pussy so beautifully swallows his cock, yet he can't help but be slightly distracted when all these thoughts about filling you full with his seed are stemming from how motherly and breathtaking you looked when interacting with the Skywalker twins - how you always look when you’re watching them
You’re both so close to finishing - Fives groans at the way your walls squeeze unforgivingly around him as you approach your climax - a sight that is most devine to him. He’s right there as well - the relentless clenching of your cunt sure as hell pushes him right there to where he’s about to-
“Y-you looked so good with the - mmph - the twins" he doesn’t even realize he’d just voiced his thoughts aloud - albeit, in the form of a growl - until he sees how your eyes widen after struggling to come down from your first high
He’s no where near embarrassed - perhaps it was finally fucking time to let you know just how painfully hard you make him when you’re all motherly and in caretaker mode
The way your features morph from being caught in surprise to desperation and hunger completely takes the filter off of him - and he begins voicing his plans for the two of you in the heat of the moment
“Wanna - aghh- fuck a b-aby into this sweet p-pussy” his teeth are clenched tightly together as he continuously hits that exquisite spot so deep within your heat and your head is positively spinning at his shameless confessions - fuck, you want him to make good on his word.
“Fuck... you’re nearly ch-oking my cock, pretty thing,” he grits out between heavy pants. “You want me to, hm? Wanna let me - mmphh - fill you so f-fucking deep that you swell with my child?”
Your body is on fucking fire - you’ve never heard Fives speak of this before, and boy oh boy it is 100% welcome right about now. Yes, yes you want that so, so bad but you never thought to bring it up before because everything was still new with how the galaxy has changed for the better... but right now - you’re going to fucking feed him so he can have the best orgasm he’s ever had
“Yes, love, please,” you’re whimpering those three words like a prayer over and over between loud, uncontrollable moans - completely taken by him and the way he looks so gorgeous in this determined and concentrative state. “Shit, fill me up with our child,” you punctuate your mewling request with the repetition of his name - you’re hitting your climax again but this one is about to utterly wreck you like never before. “Right now.”
Fives’ eyes clamp shut and the sweat on his brow is beginning to drop from his forehead to your bare chest with how he is hovered over you - your soft but commanding words has the most gargled and loud groan erupt from deep within his chest as he stills his hips
You can feel the way his cock pulsates so far inside of you - liquid warmth spitting from the head and no doubt seeping into your cervix
You’re both completely out of breath and totally fucked-out - you think that’s the most Fives has ever cum, and you’re just staring up at him with the sweetest smile you can muster in your exhausted state
“We can talk about it more later, but...” Fives rubs at his neck after hauling himself off of you - pulling you close to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around your torso.
“No need,” you say softly - your hands wrapping around his forearms. “I’ll have them remove the implant on my next visit.”
Your words of promise has Fives uncontrollably getting hard again
***
Tags! Please fill out my form if you wanna be added <3
@bvcketfvcker @deewithani @chromia7567 @threevie @letitrainathousandflames @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @thefact0rygirl @justanothersadperson93 @ohtobeamoth @14mcmd1122 @tacticalsparkles @cheesemachine44 @damerondala @buckethead-over-heels @kriffclone @purgetroopercody @socially-anxious-fangirl @cloneygoodness @marya-komar @beskarprincessjenny @awkward-katiesaur @katiebits1 @kawaiitimecharm @shiny-mando @sapphichorrorpictureshow @fat-zygerrian @foodandbooksplease @the-siren-writes-it @ken-obiwan @parkotedarasuum @ladykatakuri
#goth gf anon#god-tier thot ty non-non#fuck. I love him#he deserves a happy ending. jfc please give it to him#thots with M#arc trooper fives x reader#arc trooper fives smut#18+#djarrex writes#fives x reader#arc trooper fives
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Question and Answer
Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader
Summary: Garcia gets Reader to answer some questions about their feelings for Spencer.
A/N: Hey heyyyy- here’s the twelfth fic for my 30 fics in 30 days for April! Oh my gosh 😱 can’t believe how many I’ve posted in a row already- thanks for all the love on them 🥰 This fic is based on this request- Writing Penelope along with Derek as side characters is one of my favorite things about some of my fluffy pieces! Feel free to leave something in my inbox here- I love hearing from all of you! (I promise I don’t bite lol) Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Non at all☺️- though if you see something you think should carry a warning please let me know 😌
Main Masterlist Word Count: 1.8k
When Penelope Garcia got you alone in her office she lovingly called her‘bat cave’ and said she wanted to ‘talk’ there was no escaping it. ‘Talking’ with her usually meant she was going to bombard you with questions, usually linked to some gossip she heard from someone.
It was usually Morgan that fed her curiosity. He was somehow able to be up to date on everything and everyone. A result of that was that Garcia always got to hear the latest thing he had heard. Once Garcia was interested in whatever your answer to the gossip might be, she was without a doubt going to ask.
That’s where you found yourself on one of the slowest work days in recent memory. It had been so slow in fact, that you had been almost about to leave early since you had finished your paperwork. That was until Garcia had called your name in a singsong tone, grasped your elbow delicately with her painted nails, and gently nudged you to come talk with her in the ‘bat cave’.
“Penelope- I really want to go home. Can’t this wait another day?” Your groan perhaps was a bit pathetic as you sat down in a chair, but it had been the first time seemingly in years that you had the chance to go home early. A nap sounded really nice right now and even though you loved Garcia, that was more exciting at the moment.
“Fine fine, yes I’ll let you go soon, quit your bellyaching. And, to answer your other question, no, it can’t wait,” She plopped down into her chair, tapped on her keyboard a few times to close out some files, and then focused all her attention on you, “Just quickly answer my questions- Wait, no! Actually, let’s play a game!”
Another groan, perhaps even more pathetic than the first came out of your chest, while you also let yourself slump down in your chair. Thoughts of your bed danced in your head trying to pull you into a daydream about the nap you had been planning on taking. You then tried as best as you could to keep your focus trained on her for as long as possible. If you were able to focus; it would get done faster.
“Oh hush it’s a quick game that’ll have you out of here faster.” You perked up at that, now suddenly invested in the game that was supposedly going to get you out of here quick.
“Alright- I’ll do it if it gets me out of here quickly.”
She beamed at you for a second, then grabbing one of her decorative pens and a stack of sticky notes. Rapidly she wrote down a list that you tried to peek and see, but she hid the stack with her free hand once she saw you trying to look. Once she had finished she pushed up her glasses a bit, before outlying the rules of the ‘game’, “I want you to answer my rapid fire questions and answer without thinking! It’s supposed to give the most truthful answer from what I read on the website.”
Truthfully, it sounded silly to you, but if it got this interrogation over quick you didn’t mind playing the game. Plus whenever Garcia gave you time to answer she watched whatever your body language was and used that against you to get more information out. She had picked up on how we did our job as profilers over the years. It had become almost as instinctive to her as it was to us whenever we read behavior. Any conversation we had was screaming non verbal behavioral tells at us; it was almost impossible to turn off. So with less time in between questions and answers, it would be harder for her to analyze your movements. Garcia could honestly probably take the classes to become a profiler just as JJ had done, but everyone knew her place was in front of her screen. That was where she worked her best magic.
As soon as you nodded your head, agreeing to start the game, the questions were dropped on you at a rapid pace. The questions had started out simple enough, to get you ready for whatever bombshell question she no doubt had coming. The whole goal of the game was to catch you off guard so you’d answer as honestly as possible.
“What’s better coffee or tea?” She still hadn’t dropped the bomb and asked the question that had the only useful answer to her.
These questions were easy and you were getting comfortable. Each time another question went by the lingering reminder in the back of your head trying to warn you to be on edge slowly slipped away. Mindlessly you answered her without thought, “Coffee.”
“Who’s your favorite superhero?”
“Batman.” That answer might have been biased, when you really thought hard about it. You changed your answer when you realized you chose Batman because you were in Garcia’s ‘bat cave’, “Wait no- scratch that it’s Spider man.”
“If you could be any animal what would it be?”
“A dog.”
“What is your biggest fear?”
Again, you answered without thought even though it was a harder hitting question compared to your favorite drink or what type of animal you would be,“Being alone.”
“Who would you kiss in the office?” By now you had felt comfortable in the short little game, not even realizing how the questions had shifted to what she had been looking for all along.
“Spencer.” As soon as it came out of your mouth you slapped your hand over it. It was no use, the admission had already escaped and made its way into Garcia’s ear.
“Do you like Spencer?!” You opened your mouth in protest, but the look on your face said it all. Garcia knew she had won when you hang your head down with a sigh, in defeat. “Oh! Morgan was right!”
A little squeak by the door of the bat cave then pulled you out of your embarrassment and Garcia out of her celebration. You were already embarrassed before and it then turned into absolute mortification when you turned to see the source of the noise. Spencer was standing there, slack jawed, holding a file he had meant to give Garcia.
His voice then came out with more stutters and pauses than you had ever heard before from him, “H-hey ggguuys ummm I’ve got to go- take a nap.”
You almost wanted to snort thinking that you’d like to take that nap you’d been planning on too. Garcia went to say something, possibly to break the tension or make it even worse, but he was already gone. He bolted out the door and probably all the way home before you had a chance to explain your answer to the question that just led to even more questions.
—-
As soon as you were finally freed from Garcia’s clutches you bolted as well. Except instead of going straight home to your comfy bed you had been daydreaming about you bolted to someone else’s apartment.
“Hi, Doc.” Was the first thing you squeaked out when Spencer had opened up the door to his apartment after your polite yet incessant knocks.
He blinked at you a few times, perhaps trying to convince himself that you were really here. Clearing his throat he then replied shakily,“Hi.”
“C-can I come in?” It was your turn to stutter now, you wouldn’t lie and say you weren’t nervous about what his reaction might be. The only thing you were sure about is that he wouldn’t be outright disgusted by your feelings. You both had worked with each other for many years, becoming closer each day by day as time continued to tick by. At this point you’d call him your closest friend and you knew he wouldn’t call you disgusting for developing feelings for him. If he was going to let you down he would start by saying it’s only natural. Though, you still felt an ache in your chest even when assured that he’d at least let you down gently. Your relationship with him would be forever changed either way this conversation went.
He swung the door open more after a moment of trepidation, gesturing you through the door. You spent no time gazing around at his apartment, you had been here many times before. Instead you made a beeline for the couch, the comfiest spot to sit. You wanted to be at least comfortable if he was about to break your heart.
“C-can I ask you a question?” He fiddled with his fingers as you both sat down on his couch.
You brought your knees up to your chest as you had slipped your shoes off before sitting down. You also made sure to avert your gaze away from him, not sure if you could handle looking at him in the eyes, “What kind of question? Is it the same one as before?”
“N-no, um- well kinda… Yes and no?” The end of his jumbled sentence went up in pitch, making his own answer sound like another question.
You decided to give him a little mercy, doubting that there was any question he would ask that you would be uncomfortable with. And, you already had a feeling you knew what the question would be, “Alright Doc, I’ll let you ask your question. Go easy on me ok?”
Your little joke on the end was supposed to help him feel less nervous, but going by his awkward laugh it might have had the opposite effect. He still was able to get his next words out with a bit of confidence, “Was your answer back at work- umm honest?
Your heart fluttered at his question, beginning to beat harder in your chest as you prepared yourself to give him an honest reply. You were nervous to answer, even though you knew exactly what it was going to be deep down in your heart. Taking a deep breath you then answered the question with a simple answer, “Yes.”
He seemed relieved at your answer, relaxing his shoulders just enough that you noticed. You’d have to thank Garcia later, for finally getting you to answer the question honestly. Though, just by analyzing his behavior quickly you could tell that he still had something to say and/or ask, “Do you have another question?”
He nodded in response, his body language becoming even more closed off then before. His leg was now bouncing up and down as an attempt to soothe his building nerves. You then gave him what he had been looking for after his first question, permission to ask another, “You can ask another question, Doc.”
Tense silence sat between us for a few moments while I waited for him to speak up. He then got his courage back a little, though he still looked at the ground and fiddled with his fingers when he asked, “Would you like to go out on a date?”
It took no time to process the question, the answering instantly coming to the front of your mind. You then spoke with no trepidation, giving him a simple honest answer, “Yes.”
Ask Me Anything
—-
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Let's Play A Love Game
Author's note: this one is rated 😈 so yeah. There was originally more angst in my mind but once I got to that part I was over it lol I'm the worst at angst I much rather make it naughty. It's more rushed than I wanted but I don't really have time to write 10k fics right now. But hopefully soon.
Summary: it's just pretend, right?
She hadn't meant to push the event in the corner of her mind until she forgot about it completely, so much so that when the e-vite showed up in her inbox she stared at it in wide eyed shock not even noticing Mi-Seon creeping up behind her.
"It's already time for that? I usually know it's coming because you start buying expensive dresses you can't afford and crying at your credit card bill. Maybe country life has really changed you hm?"
False. Inaccurate. Utterly wrong to the every core.
She lets out a shrill scream letting her head fall painfully on her desktop.
"I'm an idiot! Just kill me now, I deserve it." She has nothing to wear, okay the mountain of boxes in her living room, bedroom and some hidden in the linen closet beg to defer but none of that is worthy of this event. The annual dentist convention in Seoul, it's a week long getaway. It's meant to be an opportunity to build connections and attend professional learning classes, but that has long been abandoned. Now it is a fashion show and chance to show off your success and this year more than ever she has to impress everyone. They all look down on her and her cute little practice. Those judgemental snarky bitches.
"Do we have anymore patients?" She absently asks her best friend, only friend already getting up and walking away.
"No that was the last one. Do you want to call it a day?" She doesn't give a verbal reply lost in her phone and the disease that is online shopping, in the span of three minutes she has already added seven dresses to her cart.
"Chief Hong is going to have a long day."
It's just as Mi-seon says the next day the nosy know it all shows up glaring at her over the handful of packages in his arms.
"Don't tell me you're doing this again. What more could you possibly have to order? How much things does one woman need?" His voice is an air warmer than the last time they were in this very same position, but she tries not to think too hard about it. Their relationship is too confusing these days, as temperamental as the sea.
"Are delivery men allowed to complain this much when they're doing a job they are getting paid for?" She snarks back, snatching her packages from his arms with a huff. Ignoring the grin on his face as she disappears into her house.
"That better be all you order. I'm not coming back."
He comes back. At least six more trips, more boxes each time on the last day he doesn't simply leave after making his delivery.
"I'm coming in for tea because of you I've been working too hard." She squeaks indignantly as he pushes past her, their shoulders brushing in the tight space of the doorway.
She should wait until she doesn't have an audience but she's too impatient so while he's making the tea in her kitchen (so rude and intrusive), she starts to open a few boxes pulling out the contents. Dresses, blouses, shirts, hair accessories, lipsticks in all shades and hues, and of course shoes; heels, flats and everything in between.
"Your house looks like a department store." She jumps at his voice glancing up at him, almost laughing at the hedgehog mug that he's drinking out of that Mi-seon gave her as a joke. Leave it to him to pick the most ridiculous mug.
"Hurry up and go so I can try everything on." She starts to take the objects out and organize them, putting together possible outfits lazily.
"Why not have a fashion show?" He slurps loudly at the tea, sighing and smiling down at the warm beverage. Acting like he's never had tea before, such a plebian.
"A fashion show?"
"Yeah, model all that", he motions to the new boxes littering her bedroom floor, "and I'll let you know what looks good."
She scoffs, loudly looking at his lackluster outfit; a simple white tee tucked into dark cargo pants with suspenders.
"What do you know about fashion?" She replies meanly, despite the little voice in her mind that reminds her that while his outfits are more practical than fashionable there is something distracting about the way his shoulders fill out his shirts and the way his long legs sit in his pants.
He shrugs looking down at himself, "I'm the town handy man I have no need to look good. But I'm still a man I can tell you what I think looks good on a woman."
Oh. It's a nonchalant statement said with no real heat but the implications make her skin warm up, she's never once thought that he saw her as a woman; nor considered looking at him like a man. (Lies.)
"I--why woul--why?" She stutters through an answer, tongue heavy in her mouth. He looks back nonplussed, sitting down pointedly on her couch.
"Never took you for the shy kind. You growing bashful now Ms. Dentist?" His eyes twinkle with mischief and she knows that she's being played but she wants nothing more than to wipe that smug look off his face. Slamming her room door, she pulls off her casual house clothes and grabs the first thing that catches her attention- a buttery yellow dress that grazes her knee, pairing them with white heels and a high messy bun. A swipe of lip tint completes the look and she confidently opens her room door.
Du-sik is staring aimlessly at his phone and doesn't notice her reappearance at first, so she coughs loudly folding her arms and when his eyes land on her, a chill runs down her spine at the look that lands on her body. It's been a long time since a man looked at her in this way, his eyes are undressing her even though he was the one who implored her to dress up in the first place. She hates it. At least she should hate it. But she can't ignore the satisfaction that washes over her at his dumbfounded look, that smug look obliterated by her very first look.
"Well?" She pushes harder, twirling to give him the full look. His gasp is loud behind her, she knows exactly why. The deep revealing plunge that travels all the way to the small of her back. There's no way she would wear this to the convention much too suggestive but that's her business.
"Wher-" his voice cracks and this time she can't contain her smile, dimples flashing now at her clear affect on him, clearing his throat he tries again, "Where exactly are you going again?"
She hums turning back around, gleeful at the vibrant blush on his cheeks. So he is just a man after all.
"A dentist convention." She answers cheekily and he guffaws loudly, eyes narrowing at her like he knows exactly what she's trying to do. They stare at each other for a long moment and she ultimately breaks the stand still, realizing what's happening. It feels a lot like flirting.
Collecting herself, she barrels back into the room.
"What the hell are you doing?" She whispers to her reflection, face too flushed for her liking.
A hard knock at the door pulls her from her self chastisement, "You didn't even wait for my rating."
She sighs loudly covering her face in embarrassment at her own action. She doesn't even have alcohol to blame this time.
"I don't care. This was stupid, let's stop."
Of course he ignores her.
"I liked it. But it's too...sexy for convention. You should wear that for someone special. I doubt anyone with a beating heart would be able to resist you."
What the fuck.
This isn't who they are, when did they become comfortable enough for conversations like this? They despised each other, right? Confused and annoyingly flattered, she peels the dress off her body trying her hardest not to think about the fact that only a door separates him and her naked body.
"I would love to see the others. But I have to go, but if you want my opinion. Red is definitely your color."
"What?" She replies, but she can hear the too loud click of the front opening and then closing and just as capriciously as he arrived, he leaves. 
Burying something that feels a lot like disappointment she flops onto her bed, head fuzzy like its been wrapped in cotton.
"What is going on?"
They don't see much of each other the next day and it's unusual given how much they see each other on a regular basis but she refuses to think about it or even consider that he's avoiding her. He's just busy and she doesn't care anyway, they have nothing to do with each other.
The convention is in two days now, she has her overnight bag packed with all her new purchases and the messages have been pouring in their group chat. She's mostly chosen to ignore them but on a whim she decides to check what they're so excited about, only to feel her stomach drop.
Why isn't Hye Jin answering?
Maybe she's busy with her mystery man 😉
Oh! She has to bring him, we need to interrogate him!
Yoon Hye Jin don't pretend you don't see these messages!!
That she had forgotten about.
"Why did you tell them that he's interested in you? Has living here altered your brain, you idiot." She berates herself.
"Who's interested in you? Why are you an idiot?" Mi-seon looks curious from the doorway, without waiting for an invitation she hops onto the bed with two cans of beer. She grabs one, drinking it in a flash.
"Oh it's that kind of night." Mi-seon says excitedly running to grab more beers.
"So let me get this straight, you told them that Chief Hong is interested in you and that he's been chasing you but you're not interested?"
She nods meekly, wishing the floor would swallow her up.
"Why did you lie?"
That's the brunt of the issue, she's a liar. She should have sent her initial message and told them that there was nothing between them but how could she when they were all calling him handsome and acting like she finally did something right? She'd spent that entire dinner feeling like her teenage self on the outside looking in, wanting nothing more than to be someone worthy of being included.
"I know I should have told the truth."
"Yes, you should have told them that you're interested in him too."
Huh.
Time stops as she processes the words that her best friend just uttered. There is static in her head as she tries to make sense of it.
"What are you talking about?"
Mi-seon looks at her unimpressed.
"You can both keep lying to yourself but the rest of us aren't as stupid. You're both interested in each other. It's mutual."
She wants to ardently deny the accusation but the words are caught in her throat and all she can manage are refusing sounds.
"You've been wearing red all week." Mi-seon says accusingly and she jumps up in huff, "So what? I'm allowed to wear colors!"
"You hate wearing red. You said it makes your skin look too pale. You hardly ever wear it. So color me surprised when I learned that red is the favorite color of a certain part timer."
That damn town chat. There has to be a way to get Mi-seon out of it. Maybe it was a mistake letting her live here. She was learning too much.
"Don't even bother to deny it. I won't believe anything you say. But I think you should ask him to go with you, you'll get some time alone to figure this out."
There's nothing to figure out. They are..... acquaintances who can admit that the other is vaguely attractive at times. His face isn't all that bad and she's pretty, so it's natural that there is tension at times, like he said they were still humans.
So she doesn't tell him about her fib, pretending everything is fine until it's the day of the convention and her anxiety has all but smothered her and her hands have a slight tremble in them as she starts to drive.
"It's going to be fine. Everything will be okay." She doesn't believe a word she's saying to herself, her heart is thumping in her heaving chest. She doesn't want to go alone. Convincing Mi-seon to leave was a failed endeavour, her and that police officer becoming inseparable. She knew what that smile meant when her best friend had realized that she would have the house to herself. She could barely get a word in as Mi-seon started frantically shaving her legs then pushed her out of the bathroom to "shave her wild cat".
With a sigh she starts driving, the car too quiet despite what she'd told Du-Sik and the Gongjin grannies. Uncharacteristically she turns on the radio, kpop blaring from the speakers. She recognizes the tune, never before has something as mundane as butter seemed so interesting but the kitchen essential was given new life by the song. She bops her head to the catchy beat, trying to ignore the fact that she's driving to the lion's den.
Some time later, she pulls into the hotel a valet already coming over to get her car. Grabbing her overnight bag, she exits the car handing her keys to the waiting hands of the valet.
Everyone is here and none of them had come alone, she was the only one without a plus one. They haven't noticed her yet so she watches as they all laugh at a joke she can't hear, unnecessarily stroking at their husband's chests as if to show off their exorbitantly priced wedding rings. Everything was always a competition here.
She shouldn't have come. Their was nothing about her life that they would be envious of. She was going to make a fool of herself. Impulsively she starts stepping back but it's too late, Hong In-A spots her and points her out and immediately all eyes are on her, they all start walking over to her and she wants nothing more than to run far, far away. Get on a bus and go to the beach and never see any of them ever again. But she's no longer a child, no longer that scared little girl; worked too hard to shed that skin.
Fortifying herself she puts on a fake smile. Ready for war.
"Hye-Jin ah, there you are. We were beginning to think you wouldn't come. You never responded in the group chat." Ye-Ri states with an attitude, looking around her as if searching for someone and eyes brightening when she sees no one. "Did you come alone?" This makes all of them perk up, looking around like chickens with their heads clucking. She swallows the shame the question elicits, "Who would I be with? I told you in already, it's not like that."
They all look at her with pity, it makes her want to slap them all across the face. Who were they to make her feel like shit, she didn't need anyone that didn't make her pathetic.
Finally one of the husbands cracks the awkward tension by introducing himself, she tries her best to ignore the pervasive way his eyes run down her body. Instinctively she crosses her arms, feeling naked under his stare. Nobody else notices her discomfort and after all the introductions, they all walk away as if she's no longer worth their time.
Lump in her throat she walks into the hotel, determined not to show them that they've gotten under her skin.
There's a scheduled lunch and she tries to find a new table but Sung-Mi waves her over and she doesn't see anyone else she recognizes or wants to sit with.
He hadn't been wrong, she has no friends besides Mi-seon.
"You were looking around, were you looking for someone? Are we not good enough to sit with?" The question is asked with a bite and sneer as if the idea is laughable that she would ever be better than any of them.
She swallows her pride, "No nothing like that. I was merely looking around."
Sung-Mi looks satisfied as if putting her in her place has righted her world.
They begin a conversation that completely excludes her, regaling drama that she knows nothing about and doing nothing to bring her up to date or invite her to join. It's the polar opposite of her experience in the countryside and with shocking clarity she realizes that she wishes she were there, it's only been a few hours but she misses it. Nobody looks down on her there, no usually she's the only doing that she notes with shame.
"I'll find the restroom." She says to no one because none of them are paying her any mind except the husband with the wandering eyes and she would much rather not have that attention.
Thankfully the bathroom is empty and she has to stop herself from splashing water on her face, her make-up was done perfectly it would be a waste to ruin it. Pushing her hair behind her ears she takes a deep breath and then another until her head is clearer, the noise lessening.
"It's only a day and a night. You've suffered far worst."
With that lacking pep talk she exits the bathroom, almost colliding into a wall. Wait, no it's just a person- a chest to be specific. She looks up ready to apologize when a familiar face stops her in her tracks.
"What are you doing here?" She stares flabbergasted at him, more dressed up than she's ever seen him. In a white suit with a white vest, the tee-shirt peeking under the only thing that feels like him to her. And his white sneakers. She can't hide her surprise at his sudden appearance and without thinking she starts to pull him to the side, to avoid being seen but she's not fast enough and soon they are swarmed by her colleagues, before she even has a chance to talk to him.
"Aren't you the man from the picture?" Yoo-Jin asks blushing way too much for a married woman if her husband's cold stare means anything.
"The picture?" Du-sik replies, clearly confused.
"You're the guy that's chasing after her. She told us that you liked her and you were courting her." Sung-Mi answers for her, she wants to vanish. It would be better if she had never existed. Even non-existence would be better than this embarrassing moment. "I got a picture of you two last time, when you followed her."
His eyes ping-pong between the group and her and she realizes this is his chance to ruin her. After everything she's done, all her rude comments and snobby remarks about the town and people he cares for so much, this is his chance for revenge. He can laugh and deny any feelings for her, tell them all that she's a liar and he's never been interested in her, not even once. This is what is going to happen. She prepares herself for the fall out, surely after this she won't be able to show her face in Seoul again.
He starts to laugh and her stomach tightens, her palms are so sweaty.
Here it goes.
"Oh I guess she wanted to keep me a secret."
Wait. What. That doesn't sound like denial.
"We're together now. I finally bulldozed those walls and made her mine. Nice to meet you all I'm Hong Du-sik, Hye-Jin ah's boyfriend."
Her eyes widen as he bows and starts to shake hands with the husbands, the one that stared at her looking disappointed. Their handshake goes on for a second too long, eventually with the latter pulling away with a pained look. She's too confused to consider what that means.
"And you were so cold earlier saying you had no one. Did you want to make a fool of us?"
He answers for her, "It's nothing like that, my honey is still getting used to us. I'm sorry I'm so late I had something to take care of."
Her head is spinning too fast to keep up with everything happening and she's grateful when he excuses them and guides her outside with a large hand on her hip.
Fresh air is much appreciated and she takes in huge heaps of it as soon as they're free.
Then reality crashes down on her.
He knows about her lying.
He had called her bluff.
But he didn't out her.
"Why didn't you tell them the truth?" She finally manages to say, head still reeling.
But instead of answering he's staring at her legs, then slowly his eyes swivel upward cross her thighs curving around her hips, past her breasts (a bit too slow there) before moving to her collar and settling on her face.
"You look great."
She feels the heat rushing to her face. What was he doing to her?
It hadn't been in purpose but she finds herself in red again, an a line dress with criss crossing straps over her shoulder and a middle slit. It was conservative without being too formal or professional. She'd felt comfortable in it but now seeing that look on his face, comfort is the last thing she feels.
He was distracting her and she couldn't afford that with those harpies inside waiting for her downfall. They needed to get back on track.
"What are you doing here?" She tries again, but he responds with his own question, "Why did you tell them that I was chasing you?"
"It was a mistake. They thought we were together and I just....said that for no reason." It's half the truth.
"They don't seem like your friends. You looked like you needed someone on your side, so I just found myself saying we were together for no reason."
She looks at him blankly, heart pounding now. In her moment of weakness instead of kicking her, he'd lended a helping hand. What kind of person did it make her for expecting the former?
"So what now?" She asks still in disbelief that he's here and that he'd told people that there were dating, she would be angry and offended later that they had readily believed it. Perhaps it didn't seem too farfetched now with him looking like that right now.
"Well, don't look but they're watching us through the glass."
This time she finds herself turning to look and he's the one that has to stop her, he does so by suddenly grabbing her hand and tugging her into his body. She squeaks at the collision. Leaning down so his lips are level with her ear, he speaks, "We can give them a show. I'm happy to be your pretend boyfriend."
Why?
She yearns to ask him why he's willing to go this far for her? Why was he even here when she had never told him where the convention was taking place? But his words were hot on her ear and she's tired of being their source of entertainment so she nods looking up at him, "Just this once. I'm going to lean on you. Let me borrow your eraser and copy your homework."
He stares before a blinding smile graces his handsome face.
"Let's go then." His hand is heavy on her waist as he walks back towards the hotel, taking his role very seriously it seems.
He fits in perfectly. Able to talk about a plethora of topics to anyone he's introduced to and even she's impressed by him. Be it travel, philosophy or poetry he seems well versed in everything things that even she is ignorant to and it makes her regret the way she looked down on him before, he was anything but a country bumpkin.
She leaves him to his conversation to get a drink, a whiskey on the rocks. Needing something hard tonight.
Not that. Down brain.
"Yoon Hye Jin? I would recognize that face anywhere."
Twisting to face the voice, she sees a familiar face- old classmate. Rung Do-Bae, they weren't anything more than classmates despite his many, many attempts.
His eyes sweep over her hungrily. She swallows her drink, painting on a shallow smile.
"Sunbae, how nice to see you here."
Invading her space he grabs her hand, "There is no need for such formalities. You can just call me by my name, Hye Jin ah."
As if she ever would.
Gently she tries to extract her hand but he won't let go and she doesn't want to make a scene.
Suddenly she's warmed by a body pressing into her, she knows who it is without even looking, her body relaxes immediately.
"Sorry I got lost in conversation honey. Who might this be? Another friend of yours?" He thrusts his right hand out and Do-Bae has no choice but to release her hand to return his handshake. Scarily enough she's starting to become used to his nickname, barely reacting to him using it again.
"Yes, this is my sunbae from school. Sunbae this is Hong Du Sik my....."
She knows that this is all an act, they were doing this to help her but she can't bring her tongue to form around the word, boyfriend.
"Her boyfriend." He finishes for her, pulling her tighter to his body.
But Do-Bae looks suspicious now.
"Boyfriend? I thought you were still single. You never changed your status on SNS. I've checked."
"Why are you so curious about that?" Du-sik challenges in return, doing a great job of sounding like a jealous boyfriend. She's almost even convinced.
"Hye Jin ah and I have always had a very special relationship. Beyond that of a hoobae and sunbae. Isn't that right?" He directs the last bit to her and she feels Du-sik stiffen next to her, seemingly believing these lies. So she clears that up.
"I have no idea what you're referring to honestly. We have never had anything that would constitute as a "special" relationship. I would appreciate if you didn't spread such lies, especially to my boyfriend. Enjoy the rest of your night."
She tugs Du-sik away, not waiting for a reply from the other man. The conversation was over anyway.
When they get far enough he speaks, "You have a lot of admirers."
She raises an eyebrow at the non-sequitur.
"Are you surprised?"
He brushes a hand across her cheek, making her freeze.
"No. It makes sense."
She blinks slowly before laughing, it sounds fake even to her ears.
"You should have been an actor. Your acting skills are incredible." He doesn't laugh, doesn't move before they're pulled into another conversation and she tries not to think about how tightly his body is pressed against her own.
"How is he in bed? He hasn't left you alone all day, I bet it's passionate." As soon as lunch had ended they had invited her to a spa, she'd considered saying no but she knew they would talk about her even if she wasn't there so it was best to at least know what they were saying.
Du-sik looked sad to see her go, but she told herself that she wasn't good at reading his faces. They hardly knew each other.
"I can't remember the last time I had a passionate night of sex. Kids and a full time job, leave no time for that. I'm pretty sure he's cheating on me and I'm too tired to even care." Sung-Mi confesses and she's shocked when the others nod in agreement instead of threatening to castrate him, as she'd done when Mi-seon told her about her ex boyfriend cheating.
"I have no complaints. He's... attentive. He's always touching me and pushing his way into my space. He's gentle but passionate, and I like...that he's so much bigger than me." She knows she should stop, this is definitely taking the lies too far. But that night bleeds into her thoughts, making everything she's saying feel true. He'd been so gentle with her, those huge hands cupping her face. She wondered how they would feel on other parts of her body.
"Damn. Look at you getting horny just from remembering. I'm so jealous."
Jealous. There were envious of her, it was all she'd been hoping for but the happiness she expected to erupt never comes. Instead she feels cheap, like she'd used Du-sik for her own benefit. She had tainted that night. This wasn't what she wanted.
As the day had gone on she found herself looking at him too much, he'd come all the way just for her and regardless of her brain trying to minimize that, it was huge. He hated snobby people like them who based a person's worth in their monetary success and yet he put on a smile and chatted with everyone, letting them mock his way of life and call people like him useless dreamers. All while she did nothing to defend him and drank wine, happy that they were being accepted.
He was the perfect gentleman all day and he was getting nothing in return for this. It was all just to help her.
Would a friend truly go this far to help? Was she being naive or was it like Mi-seon said, was she lying to herself?
"I'm such an idiot."
Without another word, she flees the sauna rushing to the locker room and changing back into her clothes. Nobody follows her because they aren't her friends. Why had she wasted so much time trying to impress these people who aren't even truly happy in their own lives?
The drive back is long, and she doesn't know what she's going to say but she knows that she's tired of being scared.
Leaving the key in the car she rushes past the valet, into the hotel elevator pressing their floor and waiting impatiently.
It takes three tries to get into their hotel room but once the door opens, he's right there. Sitting in the seat by the window reading a book.
"You're back early. I thought you would be gone until three?" He looks up, dog earring his book and giving her his full attention. Her heart skips a beat.
"Why did you agree to do this for me? Why go through all this trouble for me?"
It's the same question he's been asking himself since he first met her. Why was he was interested in her and why did he keep wanting to save her?
It was the desire that led to him being here.
He had accidentally overhead Mi-seon talking to Eun Chol about being worried about her, the convention was overnight and everyone would be bringing someone and she'd be all alone. The thought of her alone and isolated, made him race to her without a plan. Only stopping at a store to buy his outfit so he would fit in with her crowd, he'd spent more in that shop then he usually did in a week. But it was worth it for her.
It was a miracle that she hadn't questioned his presence more, he knew it was shameless and deceiving but none of this felt like pretending to him. His jealousy had been real, he'd had to strangle the urge to kick the pervert husband with the wandering eyes and then the insistent sunbae who wouldn't take a hint. She was a vision in the red dress and it wasn't a surprise that men found her enchanting, he just didn't like them looking at her. But she wasn't his, never would be because he couldn't confess.
They weren't right for each other.
"Do you like me?"
That question again. Last time he had laughed it off, called it absurd. But it wasn't. Not liking her would have been absurd.
"I don't know why you're asking me that."
"Because I'm tired of us lying to ourselves. Don't laugh and don't you dare say it's absurd again."
He can't respond, he's stuck on the word "us". It wasn't just him, they were an us?
Hearing that gives him courage he had long thought had been most forever.
"I wasn't pretending today. Nothing was fake to me, I meant it all." It's terrifying, unchartered land for them and he waits to see which one of them will chicken out first. It's sure to happen.
"I'm going to kiss you." She says instead of running like he expected and secretly wished for.
And then she's crossing the room and leaning down to grab his face, she watches him giving him a chance to pull away but he does the opposite, this time he meeting her half way. As soon as their lips meet the kiss is already too much, she's sliding into his lap and he wraps his arms around her tugging her closer until their chests are squished together.
He hasn't kissed anyone like this in a long time.
Hasn't been this close to losing control in a longer time.
"You're dangerous." He whispers into her mouth and she giggles at the statement, wiggling in his arms and rolling into him forcing a punched out groan from his lips.
Carefully he lifts her shirt watching her face closely for any signs that she wants to stop but finding nothing but her palpable lust.
Her skin is unbelievably smooth and soft and he can't stop himself from stroking her, rubbing at her back his hands resting right above her butt.
"How long have you felt this way?" She asks softly seductively nipping at his neck and running a hand over his shirt to caress his stomach, he physically aches for her.
"I wanted you the moment I saw you. But I didn't feel this until you convinced grandma to get her implants. That was when it became more for me."
She looks surprised and he is too, that they're speaking so candidly about feelings they've always denied.
"What about you?"
She stops licking at his neck to look him in the eyes. He's nervous to hear her reply.
"I.... don't know."
He tries to hide his disappointment. Maybe she was starting to retreat back into her shell. Maybe he shouldn't have been so honest.
He's about to untangle them when she continues, "It wasn't at first sight but one day I found myself looking for you. Seeing you become the best part of my day, I started to count on you to be there for me. To expect it. Just like this, I've been scared to lean on anyone until I met you."
Now that's a confession.
Impulsively he stands with her still on his lap, forcing her to to latch onto him so she doesn't tumble to the floor. Not that this would ever happen because he would never let her fall.
"I could have fell!" She cries, clinging to his shoulders and wrapping her legs around his waist. Her half naked bra clad body so close to him is causing another biological crisis in his pants.
Walking to the large bed in the middle of the room he falls backwards, enjoying the view of her on top of him a little too much.
It's all probably too soon and they should probably slow down, but his body is strumming and he wants nothing more than to break her apart.
"I'm all sweaty. I should take a shower."
Instantly an image of her wet and naked under the downpour of a shower flashes in his mind and he has to twist away from her.
"Pervert." She accuses but he can hear how satisfied she is with his reaction. Damn tease.
"Do you want to join me?" She teases some more, having fun now that she knows her power over him.
He looks at her helplessly.
"Are you having fun? Remember what I told you before? I'm still a guy. You're sitting here in your bra taunting me, do you think I'm that much of a good guy? Do you think I don't want to throw you down, rip your clothes off and eat you alive? I'm so hard right now just seeing you naked would be enough to push me over the edge. So don't make propositions you can't follow through on."
She looks dizzy from his words, eyes hooded and glossy. He watches her gulp and then stagger off to the bathroom, without a word to him. It's probably for the best, everything is too charged right now.
A shower for her and many glasses of water for him later, she's back and it's almost time for dinner.
"I think they said dinner starts at 6. Should we head down?"
She glances at him, while opening her bag and pulling out skin creams and some fuzzy socks.
"Would you be opposed to ordering room service and staying here?"
It's the best offer he's heard all day, only second to her asking if he wanted to join her in the shower.
"What about your colleagues?" He asks to make certain that she's really okay with this.
"What about them?" She replies with a shrug and he grins picking up the room service menu.
They order too much food and not enough alcohol but neither of them want to forget this night. She tells him stories about her time in dental school and he's happy to get to know her better, chuckling at the funny stories and commiserating at the sad ones.
Before he knows it night has fallen.
And he realizes that they'll be sharing a bed. Unless she wants him to sleep on the couch.
She's wearing a big shirt and loose shorts and he still can't believe he gets to see her like this.
"Are you coming to bed?" She's already getting under the sheet and that answers his question, this is really happening. He starts to follow her lead, getting under the sheets but keeping a respectable distance between them.
"I'm cold." She announces suddenly and he starts to look for a thermostat in the room or an extra blanket, before realizing that she's looking at him over her shoulder, he stares back confused before she lifts an eyebrow and oh, he gets it. Carefully moving closer he feels her warmth surround him as they meet, forth to back.
"Took you long enough." She grumbles, pulling his arm over here body and settling back into him moving until she's comfortable.
She's so close and warm and her smell is all around him and he feels his restraint dissolving and when she presses back into him, her hip rubbing against his crotch he bites down on his bottom lip.
It's too much for him to resist and without warning or preamble, he's turning her to face him and swallowing her moan of surprise eagerly. He grabs her head firmly holding her in place and slips his tongue into her open mouth, her unique taste exploding on his taste buds. He's hungry for more. So he starts to tug down her shorts, heart beat thundering in his groin. She kicks the shorts away, and he groans at the sight of her panties she was trying to kill him, he was certain.
"You're the devil." He chokes out staring at red lace, he'll never be able to see the color again without getting a raging hard on.
"You haven't seen anything yet. Honey." The word drips from her tongue just like the real thing.
Forgetting all reason and logics he lunges at her, devouring her mouth and sticking his hand in her panties. She's so warm and fuck, wet drenching his fingers.
Simultaneously he thrusts his tongue into her mouth and his fingers in her wet folds, groaning as she melts like butter under his touch. There's no resistance, as he plunges two fingers inside her experimentally before picking up his place when she clutches onto him and grinds back on his fingers, begging the whole time.
"More, more, please!"
As if he could ever deny her anything, with one hand he grabs her ass and the other he thrusts into her opening over and over until her voice gets breathy and she starts to stutter, squirming wildly in his arms and he knows exactly what's coming: the beautiful end. So without warning he pulls back the sheet and slithers down her body, throwing her legs around his head and pushing his tongue in to the brim, hungrily drinking at her until she shakes and combusts in his arms. Sweet on his tongue, he swallows it all greedily.
He strokes her as she recovers from her high, climbing back up her body. So much for taking things slow, but he can't even think about regretting it when he sees the blissed out look on her face. He wants to imprint it in his mind. Nobody else will ever get to see this face but him.
"It's your turn." She says sounding loopy like she's drunk and he laughs as she reaches for the tent in his pants but misses his bulge and instead falls into him.
"You're tired. Go to sleep. That was enough for me, seeing you like that fulfilled every fantasy I've had. "
He truly means it. He's a giver. And it's not like he can't tug one out later in the bathroom with her face and moans playing on repeat in his brain.
She starts to argue, but her phone vibrating on the nightstand distracts her. Reaching over she picks it up before chuckling and flopping back into the bed.
"What?" He asks curious, jealous of whoever is making her smile like that.
Ignorant to his inner thoughts, she thrusts her phone into his face. The room is so dark it takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bright lighting of the phone, but once he can see he reads the message on her phone and starts to laugh too.
"Dusik is missing! Nobody has seen him all day!! We started a search party."
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Yay :)
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Just a heads up to everyone, once I reach 40 requests in my inbox, I will be closing requests again just to keep everything organized and ensure that:
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In The Ring, Pt. II - Cross
PAIRING: Harry x Reader
RATING: M
WORD COUNT: 7k
REQUESTED: highly lol!
hi again! here’s PART 2 of boxer!harry :) thank u all for such a wonderful response on the first part, i can’t explain how much it means to me. i worked really hard on this chapter, so i hope u guys love it! if u do, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated, and i’ll probably ask for ur hand in marriage in return.
warning: parts of this fic will contain mentions of blood, violence, mild stalking, and sexual content. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and keep scrolling <3
u can find the rest of this series on my masterlist, which is linked in my bio! my inbox is also there if you wanna spare a few thoughts about this part. love u guys sm, stay safe out there 💛💛💛
~*~
January 19, 2021
It’s ten at night, and you’re curled up in bed, scrolling through social media. You should be doing the assigned readings for your anatomy class, but you’re procrastinating. Besides, watching video after video of cute kittens peeking their furry little heads out of cardboard boxes is a much better way to pass the time.
Your relaxation period is interrupted when a notification banner descends from the top of your screen. It’s an unknown number, but the content of the message makes your eyes widen in surprise.
Hi. It’s Harry. I’m at the gym.
You tap on the text immediately, waiting with bated breath as you’re taken to a different app. You chew on your bottom lip for a moment, thumbs hovering over the screen before they begin to type.
Hey! I’ll be there in twenty minutes.
Harry’s reply is short, concise, to-the-point—just like him. Oddly enough, it makes you smile.
Okay. See you soon.
~*~
The first thing that Harry notices when you walk through the door is that you’re slightly out of breath. He’s standing in the middle of the ring, his eyes fixated on the opposite side of the room as you enter. Your hair is tied up in a high ponytail, and you’re wearing a pair of leggings and a tank top under your jacket. Your sneakers squeak against the floor as you stride over to him, fingers wiggling in a friendly wave.
“Hi!” you call out, shooting him a kind smile.
Harry leans against the ropes circling the ring, careful not to put too much of his weight on the barriers lest he flip over and fall to the floor. It’s happened once or twice, and each time, he ended up with a bruised tailbone afterward.
“Hi,” he replies.
You shrug your coat from your shoulders as you draw nearer. “How are you?” you ask, peering up at him curiously.
“Good, thanks,” he says. His fingers toy absentmindedly with the silver cross pendant dangling from his neck. “Er…did you run here?”
“What? Oh, no,” you answer with a breathless laugh. “I drove. But I was hurrying—I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”
You’re so fucking sweet. He’s going to throw up.
“It’s alright.” He shrugs. “I don’t mind.”
“Still,” you say, tightening your ponytail with both hands. “You’re going out of your way to do this for me. And while we’re on the subject of that—thank you, again. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem,” Harry says. He slips between the ropes and hops down from the platform. “Shall we start?”
“We shall,” you agree, biting back a teasing smile. “Am I going up against you?”
Despite himself, Harry chuckles. He shakes his head. “Not yet. First, you need to learn the basics.”
“Basics,” you echo, nodding once. “Right.”
He leads you over to the side of the ring, where a pair of punching bags have been strung up near the wall. The arrangement is nothing special—twin leather bags, one brown and one black, filled with sand and stitched together with strong, coarse thread. Reflexively, you reach out, running your fingertips along the black bag and giving it a gentle push. It swings outward before returning back to you. Harry watches you closely, examining the gentle crease between your brows and the slight glaze that smooths over your pupils. He clears his throat quietly, and you seem to snap out of your trance.
“Do you know how to punch?” he asks.
You purse your lips, looking unsure of yourself. “Um…I think so.”
He nods. “Show me, then.”
The blow that you deliver to the bag is weak at best. Harry immediately notices a handful of things that you’re doing wrong. When you pull your arm back and peer up at him, he’s trying his hardest to hold back a smirk.
“What?” You frown.
“Nothing.” He snickers softly, shaking his head again. “It’s just…that was cute.”
“‘Cute’?” you parrot, narrowing your eyes. You scoff good-naturedly, stepping back and holding your arm out in invitation. “You do it, then.”
Harry’s lips twitch. “Gladly.”
The chain hanging from the ceiling rattles when his fist makes contact with the leather. The punching bag itself swings forward in an extraordinary arc before hurtling back in your direction. You gasp when Harry stops it with his palms. He grunts quietly, stilling it before turning around to face you. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, and he’s sure that his eyes are gleaming with a smug sparkle. You just cross your arms over your chest, gazing at him evenly with your chin held high.
“Fine,” you say. “Tell me what to do.”
Harry gets you situated back in front of the bag, standing beside you and studying your posture.
“First of all,” he starts, “you need to make sure that the position of your feet matches the position of your arms.”
“What do you mean?” you ask, shooting him a confused pout.
“Like this—,” Harry reaches for your shoulders before pausing, his fingers only inches away from your skin. “Er,” he clears his throat, fixing you with inquisitive eyes, “is it alright if I touch you?”
You nod wordlessly. Harry swallows down the lump in his throat as his hands close the distance between your bodies. He slants your torso to the side before reaching for your arms, bending them at the elbow so that your fingers—now curled into loose fists—are suspended in front of your face.
“If you’re angling yourself this way,” Harry starts, mimicking your stance, “you need to make sure that your right foot is leading you. But if you stand in the opposite direction—,” he changes sides, adopting a mirror image of his previous position, “—then it has to be your left foot. Got it?”
“Got it,” you say confidently. That same crease is digging into the space between your eyebrows; Harry aches to reach out and flatten it with the pad of his thumb.
“Also,” he says, delicately wrapping his fingers around your wrists, “when you punch, you can’t drop your other hand. Keep it up at all times—you need to guard your face.”
“Guard my face,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. “Okay, cool.”
You throw an experimental punch at the bag, and Harry doesn’t miss the shadow of pain that flashes across your features. His eyes trail down the length of your arm, lingering on your fist. Before you can deliver another blow, he stops you, catching your knuckles in the calloused valley of his palm and halting your movements.
“Keep your thumb on the outside,” he says, peeling your fingers open and freeing your thumb from beneath them. “You’ll break it, otherwise.”
He curls the digits back up, this time so that your hand is settled in the proper arrangement. He then steps back, jerking his head toward the bag and encouraging you to take another swing. “Try it, now.”
The third blow is better than the past two. You beam up at Harry when a promising smack! echoes through the air. He smiles reassuringly at you, nodding his head and tugging at the collar of his t-shirt. “Good. That’s a start.”
“Put me in, Coach,” you tease, bringing your fists up to your face and bouncing playfully on the balls of your feet. Your eyes shimmer as you peek at him from behind your knuckles. Harry presses his lips together to keep himself composed, but he can’t stop the faint snort that slips out of his nose. You laugh cheerfully, dropping your arms back to your sides.
“Okay, so I know how to punch,” you say. “What’s next?”
“There’s four main punches in boxing,” Harry replies. He steadies himself in front of the bag, his left foot extended to provide balance.
“The jab—”
He punches with his left fist, pointed and forceful.
“—the cross—”
He strikes with his right hand, driving the weight of his body into the blow.
“—the hook—”
He curves his arm, angling it accordingly so that he can deliver a hit to the side of the bag.
“—and finally, the uppercut.”
He bends his elbow, scooping upward so that his fist makes contact with the bottom half of the bag. The sand inside shifts audibly as it rattles around, looping in every direction and gathering momentum. Harry turns back to you as it continues to swing in circles, cracking his knuckles loudly and seeking you out.
Your eyes are wide. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you look a bit…enthralled. His brow furrows in confusion.
“You alright?”
“Yes,” you say immediately, and he’s taken aback by the breathless quality of your voice. You clear your throat quickly, scratching at your hairline and looking away. “You’re just very…dedicated. That’s all.”
“I’ve got to be,” Harry hums. He turns back to the punching bag and ceases its movements. “This is how I make a living.” His lips quirk up with the hint of a smile. “We can’t all go to medical school and become doctors.”
A weak laugh tumbles from your mouth. “I haven’t even gotten in yet,” you say from behind him.
“But you will,” he murmurs, the reply slipping out before he can weigh it on his tongue. “Without a doubt.”
He pauses when the words finally sink in, his shoulders stiffening and his eyes stamping shut. If you weren’t standing so close, he would have leaned forward and crushed his forehead into the rough leather of the punching bag. His lips mould around unspoken curses as a heavy silence descends upon the two of you.
At last, you finally choke out, “I—thank you, Harry. That’s really nice of you to say.”
“No problem,” he grunts. He steps back, spinning on his heel but refusing to meet your gaze. You’re probably looking at him like that—with soft, glimmering irises and earnestness woven through every cell in your body. If your eyes lock, he knows that he’ll be overrun with the urge to kiss you.
And he knows that if that happens, he might not be able to hold himself back.
“What time do you have to be home?” Harry asks, subtly trying to change the topic.
You lift one eyebrow challengingly, like you know exactly what he’s doing. Still, though, you humour him.
“I told my dad I was going to a friend’s house,” you say, shrugging lightly. “We have time, don’t worry.” You smile as a thought crosses your mind. “Just make sure you don’t get me too sweaty by the end of the night, okay? I can’t go home looking like I’ve just run a marathon.”
Harry’s cock twitches in his shorts at the thought of rendering you sticky and speechless. Of watching you walk away from him with wobbly knees and messy hair. Of dropping you off at home and nibbling on your neck one last time for good measure. He quickly shoos the temptations away, clearing his throat and nodding in accord.
“Minimal sweating,” he concedes. “I’ll try my best.”
Deep down, he knows that you’ll most likely be drenched with perspiration once he’s through with you. You’ll figure that out soon enough, though.
Harry makes his way over to the ring, snatching up a pair of gloves lying on the platform. He turns back around, tossing them to you and fighting a smile when you yelp in surprise. With an awkward flail, you manage to catch them in your arms. You shoot him a questioning look, lifting your eyebrows and waiting for an explanation.
“Put those on,” he orders, clapping his hands together once. “We’re gonna try to perfect your stance, tonight.”
“Why do I need to wear them, then?” you ask, gazing down blankly at the gloves nestled against your chest.
“You don’t need to, I suppose,” Harry says, shrugging. “But your knuckles will probably be destroyed by the end of the night.”
“Oh.” You make a face, wrinkling your nose up in distaste. “Okay, yeah—I’ll use them.”
He smirks, folding his arms over his chest. “We want to be careful, don’t we? Those are the steady hands of a future surgeon.”
You scoff, laughing gently at his quip. “Hopefully,” you say, a sweet smile playing on your lips. “Let’s just pray that I get the right grades.”
You will, Harry thinks, but this time, he bites his tongue to keep the sentiment contained. You’re smart, and you’re beautiful, and you’re kind. You’re perfect. I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to kiss you. I want to fuck you. I want to sleep next to you at night and prepare you breakfast in the morning. I want to make you laugh. I want to make you smile. I want to—
“Harry?”
He blinks. “Yeah?”
You fix him with a benevolent look. “Zoning out on me?”
“No.” He shakes his head, approaching you as you struggle to tug on one of the boxing gloves. His eyes fall to your hands and he reaches out, halting your movements with a gentle, “Let me.”
You peek up at him shyly as he guides your fingers into the glove. He keeps his gaze trained downward, avoiding your eyes. One of his rough palms grasps your elbow as he tugs the Velcro strip tight around your wrist. Once he’s done the same with the other one, he releases you and steps back.
“Thank you,” you say softly. He just nods in response.
“Make sure your feet are shoulder-width apart,” he says, and you spread your legs according to his command.
For a brief moment, the image of you separating your thighs to accommodate his hips flashes through his mind, but he squeezes his eyes shut and wills it away.
The rest of the night is painful—his cock grows stiffer and stiffer by the hour, spurred on by each sweet smile that you send his way. By the time you’re through with the session and bidding him goodnight as he locks up, he’s half-hard beneath his black shorts. He hopes that you don’t notice.
You shoot him a cheerful wave and drive away, and he watches before toddling over to his own vehicle. As soon as he slides into the driver’s seat, he releases a heavy, guttural groan, slouching forward and pressing his forehead to the crest of the steering wheel. Blindly, he sticks his key into the ignition and turns it, and the truck rumbles to life. A quick glance at the dashboard reveals that it’s well past midnight. Only then does he realise the extent of his exhaustion.
He backs out of the parking lot, pulling onto the main street and training his eyes on the road ahead. If he squints, he can still make out the red taillights of your car.
The journey back to his apartment passes in no time. Harry climbs sluggishly up four flights of stairs, tumbling into his home and pressing the door shut with one hand. He drags his feet down the hall and past the threshold of his bedroom, pausing only to rip his t-shirt from his torso before collapsing onto his mattress. Obscure silhouettes dance across his eyelids as they drift shut.
The last thing on his mind before sleep overtakes him is the gentle slope of your smile.
February 21, 2021
One month and a handful of late-night sessions later, Harry finds himself inundated with guilt. He’s constantly plagued by memories of your virtual conversations—short, brief little interactions consisting primarily of him letting you know that he’s free to train that evening. Your responses, ripe with exclamation marks and prattles of gratitude. You’ve taken up the habit of texting him after each lesson, too, composing a quick thank-you message before shutting your phone for the night.
And Harry regrets everything—agreeing to teach you how to box, letting you know when he’s available to meet, encouraging you as your technique progresses. On several occasions, he’s considered breaking things off, telling you that he’s too busy, that you should be focussing exclusively on school instead of on how to throw a right hook.
But then you look at him like that. With bright, trusting eyes and open features and that easy, dazzling smile. And the wall that he’s been trying so hard to build back up—not that it was particularly robust to begin with—comes crashing down.
His match is set to start in fifteen minutes, and you’re not here. You have a midterm tomorrow—your father had mentioned it in passing. You’ve been holed up in your room all weekend, he said, permanently absorbed in the pages of your textbook.
And Harry’s nervous, because you’re his lucky charm. What the fuck is he supposed to do, now?
The minutes seem to fly by—before he knows it, he’s stepping out into the ring with the crowd’s thundering screams echoing in his ears. His opponent isn’t the biggest man he’s ever gone up against, but he’s definitely not scrawny. Harry’s maybe two inches shorter than him—under normal circumstances, the height difference wouldn’t have fazed him. But he’s already on edge due to your absence, so even the smallest observations are proving to be exceedingly disconcerting.
Looking back, he supposes that he should’ve known.
Doomed from the start, destined to fail—whatever you want to call it.
Point being, he loses. Horrendously.
And he’s not quite sure when they bring the stretcher out and peel him off of the floor of the ring, but he knows that it’s sometime after the second round. He blinks rapidly, fading in and out of consciousness as moisture trickles down the side of his face. Somewhere beneath the wooziness, he’s well aware that the match is over. Your father is standing over him, walking at a brisk pace to keep up with the two men carrying him out of the arena.
“What do you mean, he called in sick?” your father spits, his eyes alight with anger. “You couldn’t find anybody else?”
The man behind Harry’s head says something that he can’t quite discern. His response makes your father grit his teeth and pinch the bridge of his nose. He fishes his phone out of his pocket, punching in a number and bringing the device up to his ear.
A few moments later, his expression lights up, relief flooding his features. “Gioia? Yeah, hi…”
Harry’s vision fades to black.
~*~
“…going to have some strong words with the bastard that did this—”
“Gioia, please. That’s how the sport works.”
An outraged scoff. “Who the hell kicks a man while he’s down?”
No reply.
Harry drifts off once more.
~*~
When his eyelids flutter open, it takes a moment for him to regain his bearings. Through the blurriness of his vision, he sees a dim light hanging from the ceiling, bathing his surroundings in a pale white glow. He blinks rapidly, hoping that his sight will sharpen with each flutter of his lashes. There’s a dull pain throbbing against the right side of his torso, battering against his ribcage and pulling an agonized groan from his lips.
The low sound is met with a high gasp. Seconds later, a face is looming over his own. Harry forces himself to concentrate on the person’s features—kind, worried eyes, raised brows, and pretty, parted lips. His heart begins to gallop in his chest.
“Harry,” you breathe. A few gentle fingers card through his hair. The sensation of your nails against his scalp makes him shiver. “How are you feeling?”
“Peachy,” he croaks, his voice hoarse.
Despite the worry swimming around in your irises, you emit a shy laugh.
“Are you able to sit up?” you ask, pulling your hand out of his hair. He nearly whines at the loss.
“Think so,” he mutters. He places his palms flat against the surface beneath him—a bed, perhaps?—and pushes himself onto his elbows. The muted pain in his side flares fiercely, making him choke on his own breath. You reach out for him, setting one hand down on his shoulder while the other wraps delicately around his bicep.
“Easy, easy,” you soothe, tutting disapprovingly. “Be careful.”
“’M always careful,” Harry says.
“Yeah,” you reply sarcastically, nodding your head. “And that’s how you ended up like this, right?”
A short, wheezing laugh punches its way out of his lungs. “Touché.”
Once he’s sitting up, he takes note of the room—well, it’s not really a room. The only thing separating the two of you from whatever lies outside is a thin curtain drawn over what he presumes to be the exit. To his left, a single cabinet with multiple drawers stands only a few feet away. You’re both tucked into a little alcove in the wall, no bigger than a standard bedroom. Harry glances around, his gaze landing on a single plastic chair facing the bed. Everything is set up like a hospital room (but far less comfortable, and severely lacking in terms of medical equipment).
“Where’s Coach?” he asks, creases forming along his forehead.
“He went to go grab us some coffee,” you explain, your eyes scanning his face. “It’s late.”
“How late?”
“Nearly two.”
“Fuck.” His head snaps toward you. “Don’t you have a midterm tomorrow?”
“Yeah.” You chew nervously on your bottom lip. “But it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not,” he says, gritting his teeth and glaring at you sharply. “What the hell are you doing here?”
You recoil a bit at his harsh tone. “Your stupid medic took a sick day,” you tell him, your voice hard. “And my dad asked me to come in and have a look at you. Who knows where you’d be if I hadn’t shown up.”
Regret washes over him. He slouches back against the bed—it’s more of a cot, really—and blows out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay.” You wave his apology away with a quick flick of your fingers. “Just…be quiet for a second, alright? I need to examine you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mutters under his breath. He doesn’t miss the way your lips twitch as the words sink in.
“Can you move to the edge of the bed?” you ask, gnawing on the inside of your cheek. “I need to see you properly, but I don’t want to make you stand just yet.”
“Sure.”
He shifts his body to the right, slowly dragging his legs off of the cot with a distressed wince. The floor is cold when his feet make contact with the ground, but he pays it no attention. He’s shirtless, clad only in the shorts he’d been wearing when he first stepped into the ring. He purses his lips and feels something stiff realign against his cheek. When he brings his hand up to his face, he finds a cottony piece of fabric taped onto his skin.
“What—?” He looks up at you in confusion.
“It was bleeding pretty badly,” you tell him. “I had to stop it, somehow.”
For the first time that night, he takes you in properly. You’re wearing a baggy t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants—it looks like the type of outfit that one would shrug on if they were in a rush to leave the house. Another pang of guilt jolts through his chest.
“What happened?” Harry croaks, pulling his hand away from his cheek.
“My dad told me that the other guy was wearing a bracelet,” you say; frustration drips from your words. “He didn’t take it off before the match started. It’s not a big cut, but it’s deep. You’ll probably need a few stitches.”
“And you know how to do that?” he asks, watching as you circle around the bed and approach the cabinet on the opposite side. He twists in an attempt to keep his eyes on you, but then grunts lowly at the ache that thrums against his side. When he looks down at his torso, he discovers a large splotch of blue and purple decorating the skin covering his ribs.
“I watched my mom do it back when my dad used to coach Artie,” you say absentmindedly, rifling through a few drawers and collecting the supplies that you need. You pause, your eyes clouding over with something forlorn. “Now that I think about it, that’s probably why I want to go into medicine. I think…it would’ve made her proud.”
“It would’ve,” Harry agrees.
He watches you carefully as you make your way back over to him, afraid of prying or saying the wrong thing. Your mother’s death had hit your family hard; he rarely hears you or your father mention her. But maybe that’s for the best—wounds can’t heal if they’re being ripped open time after time again. He would know.
You dump a handful of materials down onto the bed—disinfectant, cotton swabs, tissues, gauze, a needle, thread, and a pack of medical sutures. Harry swallows heavily.
“Do you mind if I…?” you trail off, pursing your lips timidly. Somehow, he understands exactly what you’re referring to.
“No, not at all,” he says. The words fall from his mouth a bit too quickly.
With no further preamble, he spreads his legs, and you step into the space made available between his knees. You lean to the side, reaching for the disinfectant and cotton swabs on the bed, but then nearly lose your balance in the process. Harry’s hand flies upward reflexively, settling on your hip to keep you steady.
You glance down at him with wide eyes, and he hastily removes his palm from your body. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking away.
“It’s okay,” you tell him, and is it just his imagination, or do you sound a bit…breathless?
“You’ve got a couple of scrapes on your face,” you continue. You clear your throat, uncapping the antiseptic and dipping a cotton swab into the bottle. “This’ll hurt a little.”
“It’s alright—fuck!” he swears, scowling deeply at the sting that blooms across his chin. You chew on your bottom lip, dragging the swab over his injuries with practiced, nimble fingers. His toes curl against the cold, concrete floor.
Once you’ve finished sterilising his minor wounds, you turn your attention to the massive bruise on his torso.
“Can I?” you ask softly, extending your arm but pausing only inches away from his skin.
He nods, not trusting himself to speak.
He fights back against a shudder when your fingertips ghost over his ribs. You hesitate, applying a bit more pressure and cringing when he groans. “Sorry,” you whisper, making a move to pull away.
“No,” Harry breathes quickly. He catches your hand in his, trapping your palm back against his side. Briefly, he notes the unmistakable softness of your knuckles, so different from his own. “’S okay. Do what you need to do.”
You nod tautly, pressing your fingers against the bruise once more. Harry grinds his teeth together, trying his best to withstand the pain. You prod around for a few seconds, your brow furrowed in concentration. When you don’t appear to find anything worrisome, you sigh in relief and drop your arm so that it rests limply at your side.
“No broken ribs,” you announce quietly. “At least, not as far as I can tell.”
“That’s reassuring,” he jokes.
A weak laugh falls from your mouth. “I haven’t gotten into med school yet, remember?”
He chuckles. Your eyes suddenly darken, and an angry scowl curls along your lips.
“He kicked you while you were knocked out,” you murmur, shaking your head in disbelief. “Fucking asshole.”
Harry’s eyebrows fly upward, his mouth twitching at your vulgar words. You catch sight of his amused expression, but instead of mirroring it, your frown only deepens.
“It’s not funny,” you say. “He fought dirty.”
“This whole setup is illegal, baby,” he says. Neither of you comment on the pet name that slips out of his mouth. He hopes that you view it as part of an expression, and not a proclamation of his affection. “Fighting dirty—they don’t care about that. If anything, it just gives them one hell of a show.”
“Still,” you mutter, gluing your eyes to the discoloured skin covering his ribs. “He shouldn’t have done it.”
Harry smiles softly, reaching out and tucking two fingers beneath your chin. Your lips part in surprise, and he tilts your face up so that he can look at you properly.
“Thank you,” he says, his tone entirely sincere, “for taking care of me.”
Your throat bobs with a hefty swallow—he can feel it against his knuckles. You lift your hand up to his face, and for a moment, he thinks that you mean to stroke his cheek lovingly. But then you scrape your thumb over the bandage covering his cut, and he’s reminded that this doesn’t mean anything.
You’re here to stitch him back up—nothing less, and certainly nothing more.
“I’m not done yet,” you say.
The two of your drop your fingers at the same time. Harry clears his throat, trying to absolve the tension in the air. You seize some of the other supplies still strewn across the bed, laying them out properly before getting to work.
You’re diligent, removing the bandage on his cheek and using a few tissues to mop up the blood that immediately begins to drip downward, rolling over the jut of his jaw. He curses when you pass another cotton swab over his injury, screwing his face up at the smarting prickle of the antiseptic.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur absentmindedly, keeping your eyes trained on the wound. “We definitely don’t want this one to get infected.”
“Yeah,” he grunts, because he can’t exactly nod with your fingers probing around.
“This is going to be the worst part,” you warn, pulling back and opening the pack of stitches.
You unwind a piece of thread from its spool, taking the string between your lips and severing it with your teeth. Harry watches you closely, anxiety frothing in the pit of his stomach. In all of his years spent boxing, he’s only needed stitches once—the procedure hurt like a bitch, especially since there had been no anaesthetic available. He remembers the pain like it was yesterday, and he’s not looking forward to having to endure it again.
When you guide the first stitch through his skin, he balls his hands into tight fists. His lips tuck themselves into a thin line, and an agonized moan bubbles up in his chest. You squeeze your eyes shut for a brief moment; upon reopening, they glisten with unshed tears.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you whisper. Your voice shakes.
“It’s okay,” Harry grits out. His blunt nails dig into his palms. “Keep…keep going.”
“A few more,” you babble; he’s not sure whether you’re trying to comfort him or yourself. “Just a few more.”
It takes you roughly fifteen minutes (you haven’t really had much practice, after all) to sew his wound closed with five stitches. It is by no means the cleanest application, but it’s not bad. You retrieve another cotton swab and dip it into the bottle of disinfectant, running it along the seam of his injury one last time. After that, you finally blow out the stale air that has accumulated in your lungs.
“Thank you,” Harry mutters. “Truly.”
“No problem,” you breathe. You busy yourself with gathering up all of the supplies, cradling them to your chest and making your way around the bed. As you dump everything back into the top drawer of the cabinet, you say, “Harry. Can I ask you something?”
“Go for it,” he hums. He’s nervous about speaking too animatedly, afraid to disrupt the work you’ve just done on his cheek.
“How long have you been boxing?”
He peers at you from over his shoulder, eyes following your movements as you return to his side of the cot and sit down next to him. “Er…,” he pauses, thinking, “…about ten years, now.”
“You started at sixteen?” you say, blinking in surprise.
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
He smiles softly before remembering the sutures sewn into his skin. A beat of silence passes.
“Can I ask you something?” he questions.
You nod. “Of course.”
“Why did you want me to teach you how to box?” he says. You open your mouth—to feed him another lie, surely—but he carries on before you get the chance to speak. “And don’t say it’s because you were just curious, or some bullshit like that. I want the truth.”
“Harry…,” you begin softly, looking at him with pleading eyes. He shakes his head, adamant and unmoved.
“The truth.”
Your shoulders slump in defeat. Instinctively, you reach for your throat, tugging at the rose-gold chain hanging there and fiddling nervously with the pendant nestled between your collarbones. It looks like you’re trying to figure out what to say, how to approach the situation without revealing something that could potentially make it any worse.
“Do you remember that guy I was seeing a few months ago?” you say, your voice small. “James?”
And oh, Harry remembers. He remembers watching the two of you swap spit on top of the bleachers at one of his matches. He remembers imagining James in the place of his opponent, and then making sure to aim all of his punches directly for the face (he won, that night.) He remembers seeing the sparkle in your eyes slowly start to dim the longer you stayed with him. He remembers the aftermath of your breakup, when James had shown up at the gym and screamed at you to come outside, deterred only after Portia threatened to call the police.
He fucking remembers.
“Yeah,” he spits. The affirmation is coated in a thick layer of venom. “What about him?”
His eyes widen a touch when it all clicks, then, like pieces of a puzzle falling perfectly into place.
“What did he do?” he demands immediately, fixing you with a stern glare. “Did he fucking touch you?”
“No!” you exclaim, shaking your head quickly. “No, no, it’s just…I’ve been seeing him around. A lot. And I’m not sure if I’m just being paranoid, maybe, but—,” you inhale deeply, “—it feels like he’s following me.”
Your name slips past Harry’s lips in a hard, firm tenor. When you look up at him warily, he stares straight into your eyes, leaving no room for you to break away.
“You need to tell someone about this,” he says steadfastly. “You need to go to the police.”
“I don’t even know if I’m right,” you tell him. Your mouth curls down into an apprehensive frown. “I don’t want to cause a fuss, especially if it all just turns out to be one big coincidence.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Harry asks. A bitter taste settles on his tongue. “How often has this been happening?”
You tilt your head to the side, lost in thought. “Two days ago,” you finally say, shrugging helplessly. “And…I don’t know. I’ve seen him, like, nine or ten times in total.”
“Ten times,” he hisses, “in a few months? That’s not normal, and you know it.”
“Harry,” you plead, tugging nervously at the hem of your t-shirt. “Please. Don’t turn this into something it’s not.”
“How can you—?” he starts, but then you lurch forward, putting a dainty hand on his thigh.
“Please,” you repeat, shaking your head softly. “Just…keep this between us, okay? The last thing I want is for my dad to find out.”
And maybe it’s the tenderness brewing in your eyes when you meet his gaze. Maybe it’s the wilt in your voice, the feeblest he’s ever heard. Maybe it’s the feeling of your fingers on his leg, burning a hole through his shorts and searing a mark—a brand—into his skin. Harry sighs, looking away from you and running his fingers anxiously through his curly hair.
“You’re bloody stupid, you know that?” he asks, scoffing quietly.
“Yeah,” you reply, the corners of your mouth kinking up into a half-hearted smile. “I know.”
“Got you a latte, gioia—”
The dinky curtain in front of you is pulled back by none other than your father, who is holding a tray of coffee in his right hand. He blinks at the scene laid out before him—you and Harry on the small cot, sitting a bit too close for comfort. Your hand on his thigh. You both jump, breaking away from each other and inhaling sharply. Harry clears his throat as you cough into your elbow, standing up and reaching for one of the drinks nestled in the tray.
“Thank you,” you murmur quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to your father’s cheek.
His eyes bounce between the two of you, forehead wrinkling in curiosity as he asks, “What’d I miss?”
You peer down at Harry from over the rim of your cup, panicked and beseeching. He just shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly; the tattoos inked into his skin ripple with the act. His tone is steady when he meets your father’s gaze.
“I’ve got some bruised ribs and a wicked headache, but aside from that—,” he lies, “—nothing at all.”
~*~
Your father ends up driving him home.
He parks the car just in front of Harry’s apartment complex, watching with worried eyes as he slips out of the passenger door.
“You sure you’ll be alright?” he asks.
Harry just nods, waving away his concerns. “I’m fine, Coach, really. Thanks for the ride.”
Your father nods—still looking a little unsure—before speeding off.
Climbing up four flights of stairs with bruised ribs is hell, Harry soon learns. By the time he reaches his floor, he’s panting and wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his brow. He pulls his keys out of his coat pocket, unlocking the front door and staggering into his apartment. A pained whimper slips out of his mouth as he shrugs the jacket from his shoulders.
He slowly makes his way into the bathroom, cupping his battered side over the material of his t-shirt. The water is cold when he first turns the shower on. He grits his teeth, fiddling with the temperature and meticulously removing his clothes as it warms.
The moment the first droplet hits his skin, he lets out a deep, guttural groan. He hadn’t realised just how tense he was until now. He stands under the spray of the water, tipping his head back and letting it wash away every trace of dirt and grime on his body. His hair grows heavy with moisture, sticking to his scalp and his forehead. He leans against the wall of the shower, inhaling deeply. His eyelids flutter shut, and your smiling face appears amidst the darkness.
Almost subconsciously, his hand finds its way to his cock.
Part of him is disgusted with himself. He shouldn’t be thinking of you. He shouldn’t be thinking of you. He shouldn’t be—
He moans.
In the realm of his perverse imagination, you’re straddling him, your arms looped leisurely around his neck and your whimpers echoing into the cavern of his mouth. Your hips roll against his, unhurried and languid and deep. So fucking deep. Harry reaches down with one hand, squeezing greedily at the curve of your ass, and you whine in response, encouraging him to do it again.
He pumps his length in the shower, panting quietly.
Your fronts are pressed together as you rut into his lap, your nipples brushing against the ebony birds on his chest and your silky walls wrapped around him like a vice. He grunts; you swallow the sound down, your hot, heavy breaths wafting out onto his chin. His fingers dig into your thighs when you steady yourself on your knees, doing your best to bounce up and down on him properly. It’s frantic, it’s uncoordinated, it’s sloppy, but…it’s perfect.
Your nails scrape down his back as the two of you move together, a steady series of push and pull, like water under a bridge. If you’re the moon, then he’s the tides, bending and swirling under your gentle light. Every time you rock forward, he meets you there, your bodies connecting with faint slaps of skin on skin. You gaze at him with hooded eyes, lust simmering beneath your lashes. Electricity tingles across his shoulders.
The noises that you emit are music to his ears. Delicate sighs when he nips at your breasts, earthy groans when he hits that special spot inside of you. And woven between them, imploring pleas, murmurs of right there and oh, yes and so good.
It’s embarrassing, how quickly he finishes.
He stands there, leaning against the tiles with his cock in his hand and his release dripping from his fingertips. He has the decency to feel appalled by his actions, at the very least. If you were aware of what he had just done, he knows for a fact that you would never speak to him again.
He cleans himself up, shampooing his hair and scrubbing down every inch of his body. When he steps out of the shower and shuts the water, a wave of exhaustion washes over him, making him sway on his feet. His lips vibrate with a soft sigh.
His phone chimes from where it’s perched on the bathroom counter. When he taps on it, he finds a message from you.
Feel better soon, it reads. The guilt festering in his chest increases tenfold.
Thank you, he says back, shoving the remorse down. Good luck on your midterm tomorrow.
A moment later, your reply comes through.
Thanks! Goodnight, Harry.
Goodnight, he types. He pauses for a moment, debating over whether he should include a little red heart after the word. But then he shakes his head, rolling his eyes at his own insolence and sending the text without a second thought.
He doesn’t even bother drying himself off before padding across the hall and into his bedroom. He collapses onto his mattress, still covered in tiny droplets that bead along his shoulders and trail downward, wetting the duvet. He doesn’t care. It’ll dry, and so will he.
He falls asleep moments later, the repaired skin of his cheek tingling in the dark.
~*~
PART III: Hook
PART IV: Uppercut
if you’re enjoying this series so far, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3
#harry styles smut#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfiction#eeeeeee okay here it is!!! i love this part a LOT so i hope u guys do too 💘#harry writing#boxrry
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there’s so many ways to say “i love you” and i wouldn’t wanna waste ‘em (on someone who, don’t feel it too) by Dear_MaedaysUnwelcomedGhost (5up/Steve, 5up/Hafu, 5up/Ellum, 5up/Kimi, teen rating, multi | 13k words, chaptered)
Summary: Love was a strange thing, 5up found. It was everywhere. And not in the way it may seem. It wasn’t in the adverts of perfect couples with artificial lighting.
It wasn’t in the glittery cards made by factories or the flowers sold at grocery stores. Not in the TV shows made to bring in cash and be thrown out, with couples who don’t have anything to hold onto but brief infatuation and physical attraction.
But in the friendly smiles of strangers as they pass by. In a mother cutting fruit up for their child. Running a hand through the hair of your partner, as their eyes flutter close and to sleep. Helping a stranger pick up their dropped papers, asking for nothing in return. In the graffiti on the wall by the alleyway you walk by everyday to get to work. To the goods baked by small independent bakeries. Flowers planted in parks to make it just a little nicer, or the ones growing out of pavement cracks with determination.
Also!
GuardianPuppy‘s this city needs to be destroyed or at least painted in a different color collection.
spaded_ace’s Casino in the Sky collection.
5fu’s among all this pain collection.
FAQ:
Wait what is this: pretty straight to the point! i’ll regularly share crewfu-related fanfictions to this blog :)
How regularly is “regularly”?: great question! LOL. it depends on the flow of fanfics that get uploaded, which i do not have any control over, but i’m looking forward to do this twice a month. after all, it’s only me doing this and i often run on a tight schedule.
What’s the format like?:
[title of fic with link] by [author of the fic with link] ([main pairing(s)], [fic rating: eg, general rating], [relationship: eg, m/m] | [word count in k], [added prompt to specify if it’s complete or not])
Summary: [summary provided by the author. if it doesn’t have a summary, a “No summary” prompt will be put instead]
(What does WIP mean again?): Work In Progress :)
Why are you doing this?: from the beginning, my blog has hosted conversations about RPF (real people fiction) and crewfu pairings. this has evolved into people sending me updates about certain fics in the crewfu tags every now and then, but i wanna take the next step and just do these things myself. after all, i’m already lurking in the tags often to see the fics that get posted. as someone who is both a writer and a reader, i wanna appreciate fanfic writers and help out other people that want to read fanfic and consume more fandom content!
Will it be AO3 only?: well, ao3 has a very helpful tag system that makes finding fics incredibly easy, as well as allowing people with no accounts to like and comment on fics, so that’s the site i will personally look in for fanworks. but if there are any fics you’ve written or liked in any other platforms, such as wattpad, you can always contact me through my inbox (send an ask or a dm!), and i’ll make sure to include for the next fanfic spotlight :)
Does it mean you won’t reply to fic asks anymore?: yeah, i guess. since i’ll be doing the searching myself it seems counterproductive. but if i ever skip a fic or again, it’s in another platform, or you’ve posted/read the fic a while ago and you want to get more traction on it, hit me up and i’ll take it into consideration!
Will you read every single one of the fics on your list?: oh no. again, i run on a tight schedule, and also i have my own taste when it comes to fics. i won’t be reviewing fics or any of the sort, and my intention extends to simply sharing these fics to this page so people will have easier access to them :) that’s where ao3 tagging becomes SUPER useful!!!
So what’s the criteria for the way you’ll sort out the fics in your list?: word count, going from lowest to highest. in case of fics in other platforms, i guess i’ll put them at the top of the list. i’ll also be looking for fairly recent fics, so let me know if you want any old-ish fic to be included.
I see you talking mostly about 5up/Steve and Steve/Apollo. Can I still send/see other crewfu fics?: why yes absolutely! my goal is to push every fic which heavily features regular crewfu characters - 5uptic and supdog just happen to be very popular pairings. so, to give you a list: core 4 (5up, hafu, dk, steve), apollo, aipha, annie, janet, kimi, ellum, koji… you know the drill. it doesn’t have to be centered on a relationship, or about 5up in specific, etc. my only requirement is that any of the previously mentioned members are a central part of the fic or are HEAVILY featured in it (sorry, minecraft fics with 50+ tags who only mention 5up as an afterthought won’t make the cut :/).
Isn’t shipping Bad™?: well, it’s a little more nuanced than that. i will go out of my way to discourage and shame people who often violate CCs’ boundaries by acting like so and so has a crush on this person, or that this and that are Actually Into Each Other or secretly dating. any sort of tinhat bullshit is a big nono (think larries). but i run on the assumption that people who write rpf understand that what they’re doing is simply write a completely fictional story using real life personalities, and understand the boundaries necessary to do it - aka they’re not tinhats, they understand they can’t assume everything about CCs’ thoughts and personalities, they understand that what they’re writing is strictly fiction, they keep these works only in fandom circles, etc. (but again, it’s only one me doing this, so please be kind if i don’t happen to know that this person is Actually a tinhat or whatever).
show fic: NO. (seriously. i don’t feel comfortable putting my ao3 account out there. please respect my privacy on these trying times <3)
I REALLY don’t care about your rpf/fic talk: fair! i’ll be tagging every single one of these posts as “fanfic spotlight”, so just mute the tag using tumblr settings so you’ll never have to look at these! likewise, you can follow the tag if you want to keep up with it, or search it on my blog to look at the other entries you might have missed.
Hey, my fic is here and I don’t feel comfortable with it being shared over here: no problem! let me know as soon as you can and i’ll take it down <3
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This was a comment left on chapter 11 of my fem!Tony Stuckony time travel/soulmate fic, Hanging From a Cross of Iron, and I just wanted to put a couple things out there.
First of all, I’m not mad. We’ll make that clear. I’ve received variations of this comment before and it’s rather on the mark. But sometimes both sides can be correct in how they interpret a piece of fiction, and I wanted to show that.
So… yeah. This is something I get every so often on this fic, especially around this chapter (10-12ish) and I just… really wanted to post my reply to it, if for nothing other than explaining the way my brain works and WHY I hate Captain America: Civil War so much for ruining so many good things in fandom.
I’m not putting this out there for sympathy or agreement or to start a fight or stupid shit. It’s more like a… “I’m tired of explaining myself, let me post something I feel is a semi-eloquent response to someone who was at least mostly respectful and got some things right, who I know does represent a fair portion of people who may be interested in reading this fic,” which I could then just point/link to the next time I wake up to things making me sad in my inbox on top of me being sad and feeling guilty at not having written for a while.
Stupid covid. Stupid life being dumb and depressing and draining energy and happiness from many. Just you wait. I’ll be back soon with Codega and this fic, Cross.
But here. This is my reply to the above comment:
So I don’t normally reply to critique such as this because this IS fanfiction, but you are at least part right: it IS supposed to be unfair.
This is me working out my issues with Civil War, because boy that sure as fuck pissed me off. I love Stuckony, but after CACW it was really hard to reconcile that love anymore. So this was my way to do that, and I 100% wanted to bring in the unfairness, the distrust, the favouritism, the… meanness that I saw and felt after that.
It’s also a way for me to work through my issues at the injustices I suffered at the hands of my ex-husband—I started writing this shortly after packing my bags and leaving.
I wanted a slow, somewhat realistic, non-fairytale path to even partial redemption, shared pain and circumstances and experiences, and to show that things CAN work out as long as certain lines are not crossed. I skirt the line sometimes, definitely on purpose, but that’s for ME.
I wanted to turn the tables: Steve (and Bucky) were out of their time and comfort zone in the future—Toni, in turn, needed to be out of her time and comfort zone in the past.
Plus, can you imagine a soulmate world where you’ve had a partner and you think “this is it”? Then bam! Suddenly someone’s suddenly thrust into your life.
And I wanted to play on every single issue Toni would have experienced with her family, friends, “friends”, enemies, Obie, her company, the world, etc., post-IM2.
None of them have had an easy go of it and war is goddamn hell. They ALL have PTSD. (But also, lol, the Howlies start laying into Stucky about what you’re getting mad about here too, so I’m way ahead of you!)
From the beginning, this was as much a psychological setting as a romantic one: way more so in the beginning. But it slowly crawls its way out of the murk. I wanted a soulmate story where it wasn’t all sunshine and roses. I wanted a story where they had to fight for it… or where they had a choice, shitty as it may be (they’ll NEVER choose not to have Toni, that was never going to happen). I wanted something… realistic, even amidst super soldiers, super tech, an almost unbelievable war, and soulmates existing.
I wanted it to be a fight. I wanted rejection… then them, ALL of them, to choose each other despite that, despite their past, and despite fate.
That is my goal with this fic. And since I take my own sweet time, that’s really not readily apparent so soon in this fic, even at chapter 11.
The love will be there. The unconditional love, the equal triadic love. Not just Stucky plus Toni. Because believe me, Stucky is probably one of my least favourite ships that include some of my favourite characters. Sounds ridiculous since I write them here, but as a historian I wanted to take that, take some realism, with a dash of ridiculous and hurt and pain and anger, and see what I could do with that.
The entire reason this story exists is because of a scene idea I had that doesn’t come about until the future in the 20s chapters. Leaning on each other and trusting each other because one of them was lost. Well, technically, that happens twice.
But the point is: this is a long as fuck story towards a love they have to (and WANT to, eventually) fight tor.
This fic is for me. It’s for people like me. It’s for people who don’t want an easy love story. It’s absolutely okay that you don’t like it! There are SO many fics that I dislike for a variety of reasons, and I simply close it, mark it as Did Not Finish, and don’t return. I recognize not every fic is for me.
This one’s for me. I may have sort of stalled out where I’m at in the 20s chapters, but it’s left at a pretty good place, and I’m looking forward to this dumb pandemic so I can get back to forging this love between these three idiots, as well as pick up an old Star Wars story I left 4+ years ago due to the abuse at the hands of my ex. But I’m ready to return to it now. Well, after the world calms down a little.
It’s okay if you’re done with this story—that is 100% your choice and I will never begrudge you that. I’m glad you gave it a try though! If you’re interested, you could skip ahead and see how the dynamics have changed, or I could give you clips and examples too.
My one wish (though I understand it completely) is that you had not done this on Anon. For a few reasons:
1, I would never hold this opinion against you, especially because you got tons of it right! Go you!
2, I’d love to understand you better and discuss this with you. No recriminations whatsoever.
3, But I do wonder who of those who have read my other writings left me this message. It makes me a little sad, and I will wonder which of the people I talk to have this negative opinion of me now, but that’s also my own past issues rearing their ugly heads. You have every right to remain on Anon, though it’s not so nice when you wake from a nice dream and discover anon ‘dislike’ in your inbox on a work you slaved away on, and that the dislike is specifically about the things you wrote about deliberately, hah. Sorta funny, actually, so I’ll let that one go. xD
Thank you, though, even if I disliked reading this words: it helps me to look at my own work critically and to better understand how to frame and write things going forward.
Not every fic is for everyone, and that’s okay. I’ve encountered mine, you’ve encountered yours, but I think we’ve both learned from this interaction.
Whoever you may be, even if you divulge your handle to me, my respect for you wouldn’t diminish. It’s good to have healthy discussions and to look critically upon your own work—even if I am a sensitive bean and it hurts a little, I’m fine. :P
I think the lesson to be learned here is: fuck everything after CACW!!!! Grrrrr xD
Take care,
Juuls
P.S. I may post parts of this on my Tumblr because I do occasionally encounter similar complaints about this story, and I think maybe this is the most coherent and respectful enough comment-reply response I’ve had on this topic. Thank you.
P.P.S. Happy to talk privately too!
P.P.P.S. And the offer still stands for some lovely clips from future chapters, especially if you’re not considering continuing reading this story anymore; it’ll at least show what I’m talking about and what I’ve been working tirelessly towards. It’s hard—fucking hard—work to get past CACW and still like these characters together (my fic Paper Boats is probably one of my bigger testaments to that, oof) and I admit it’s still really really hard and I struggle with it. Covid isn’t the only reason I’ve sort of stalled out on that. But that’s more because I’m like “now what?” than not seeing any love between these three.
It’s a long journey. I knew it was going to be. But I like a challenge. :)
Take care, be well, stay safe, to you and all of yours.
And may you find many fics you love!
#fanfiction#comments#commenting#comment replies#stuckony#hanging from a cross of iron#my writing#i know i don’t need to justify my writing but i am rather lacking in confidence most days#so stuff like this does suck#but it’s also helpful y’know?#not mad! not sad! seriously#i like engaging in conversations about WHY we write what we write#:)
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MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS EVERYONE!!
I'd like to dedicate a post to all the wonderful people that I've had the absolute privilege and pleasure to befriend this year! I feel very thankful for having the chance to talk to each one of you and I just want you all to know that I love you so, so much, you've helped me get through this year and make it that much more bearable. So I'd like to say thank you to:
@lady-bakuhoe I still remember in May when you replied to my message and reblogged my first fanfic, I almost went into cardiac arrest. You're one of the very first people I knew of and admired on here, way before I even started this blog. You kickstarted my blog in more ways than one, you first inspired me to share my writing out there and you helped me gain my footing when I first started out. Idek how I can explain how grateful I am to you, I honestly wouldn't even have this blog without you.
@sassi-sunflower i hopped into your dm's almost exactly five months ago, and my god that is the best decision I've made all year by far. I never, ever would have thought that that first time I slid into your inbox and said "you're cute" would spark such a beautiful friendship but holy shit I wouldn't trade it for the world. We just clicked so well in our first conversation and I still remember it very vividly, I remember gushing to my older brother about this adorable, hilarious friend that I made online, I remember messing up my already shitty sleeping schedule so that our time zones sync up and we could talk. You literally make me so happy whenever I get to talk to you, I'm so fucking glad I decided to check out the blog that kept popping up in my notifications, so fucking grateful I sent you an ask that one time, because fuck you're such an amazing, close friend to me.
@dimplesum and @tamasoft y'all are my very first mutuals fr you're my day 1. I remember when 'tsunami' first blew up and I was so overwhelmed with the positive feedback, I get this dm from ellie and it just warms my fucking heart, and then I see faye's reblog and almost faint. your words meant so damn much to me, you gave my the courage to keep writing and posting, you gave me this security that even if my shit flops, if I'm overwhelmed with my personal life I'd still have two phenomenal mutuals to turn to if I needed guidance, especially since I was so fucking new to tumblr. Your writing on its own has brightened my days in so many times it's crazy. I'm so happy I had you guys to support me when I first started out, it means the world to me.
@sugacookiies I hit you up in dm's back when your url was still bnha-homeroom, and I don't regret it one bit!! You're literally the sweetest person ever, it made my whole fucking day when I saw you on my dash or in my dm's. You're one of the first people I reached out to on here and I genuinely get so elated whenever we talk. Your writing is some of the fucking best I've ever read like sometimes I just go back to specific pieces of yours to read them for the nth time and still be in awe of each word.
@fanfic-me-up and @vannahfanfics I love you guys to the moon and fucking back. Both of you are so fucking supportive omggg Bria whenever I see you in my notifications or dm's I beam. your comments on my writing literally mean so much to me, they fucking boost my mood into the stratosphere, I love love love every conversation I have with you babe. And vannah I admire you so. Fucking. Much. The way you manage to always put in so much hardwork and consistency in your writing while balancing a heavy academic life is fucking unfathomable to me. And you deserve all the credit for it, like you're so damn underrated it hurts. You're such an inspiration to me dude, I strive to be like you fr.
@keeijiakaashi (edited in later bc tumblr hates me and didn't save my first draft 🤡) Clio my online sister, I'd like to thank you for unknowingly stopping so many breakdowns I almost had. Your advice is absolutely priceless, I'm so fucking happy you stumbled upon my blog a couple months ago because you legit make me feel like I have a cool older punk rock sister that I can talk to about anything and everything. Just seeing you in my notifications makes me smile, even if I'd been crying over biology two seconds before lol
@marilags uh hey hi hello goddess of writing I'd like to first say that I grovel at the feet of every piece I read from you. I just... How is it so good??? I legit spend SO much time analyzing why I like each work of yours and honestly that inadvertently makes me improve too. I've loved your writing from afar for a while now but then I started interacting with you recently and ??? You're such a sweetheart???? Like ma'am this isn't fair, you get to pick one, either be super talented and hardworking or be the most adorable person ever, not both. Hands down my biggest writing inspiration, immaculate immaculate immaculate.
@honeykeigo Erika please you're like my main source of serotonin at this point. Your writing is so fucking good, and seeing your character anon interactions in my dash makes my day. Every now and then when I'm hit with a depressive episode, reading your stuff or just seeing you on my dash elevates my mood a lott you don't even know. Please keep doing what you're doing because it brings a smile to my face.
@khionne ❗❗ UNDERRATED WRITER ALERT ❗❗please if you haven't read anything from khione yet, I'm telling you right now: go do yourself a service and binge her entire masterlist I'm begging you. There are so many gems in this fandom it's unreal, and khione is one of em. Bro I love talking to you so much, we share the exact same academic pain LMAO I've only known you for short bit of time and I'm so excited to get to know you better. Also our first interaction almost made me cry lmfao
@mypimpademia @sophie-writings @todosweetheart @burnedbyshoto @miriossunshine @mrs-atushiro @raes-ramblings I am not so close with any of you guys but reading your works has helped me get through this year in some way or another, either by inspiring me to write myself, or just being my comfort when I needed it, thank you for putting out such great content <3
@chitziburn @lucyheartfilias-wife @bluemonochromes @howcanibreathewithnozaire @msngyu I see you guys in my notifications frequently! Thank you for supporting me it really means a lot <3
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