#the way i nearly wrote 3k words about this...
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Punishment
Pairing: professor Hwang In-ho x student fem!Reader
Summary: You find a creative, albeit unconventional way to get out of the trouble you're in at university.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: sexual content (minors dni), age gap (legal, reader is implied to be in her early to mid 20s), spanking, corporal punishment, masochism, power dynamics, crying, unresolved sexual tension.
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You can tell something’s off the second you walk through the door, when your cheerful “Hello, Mr. Hwang!” is met with a short, courteous “good evening” from the professor.
It’s not rude. It’s not even particularly harsh. It just lacks the usual warmth you’ve come to expect from him, the tiny smile on his lips that always greets you.
Being called to see the strict Mr. Hwang In-ho after class usually meant bad news, leaving most students nervous about what they could’ve done wrong. But not you. You’ve lost count of how many times you stayed in this classroom for hours after class was over, discussing a book he had assigned for class or literature in general. Some days you’d help him grade tests and homework, when you noticed he had too much work on his back. And some days, the ones you cherished the most, you’d talk about things unrelated to class or literature – politics, your interests, your personal life. His personal life.
Saying you were smitten with him was the understatement of the century. You tried not to pay much attention to the crush you developed on him, hoping it would go away if you just ignored it for long enough, but it only seems to be getting stronger.
“You wanted to see me?” you ask, closing the door. It’s generally frowned upon for a student to be alone with a professor with the door closed, but Mr. Hwang never objects. The fact that he’s willing to bend the rules for you pleases you a little too much.
“Yes.” His tone is the same as before, not softening now that it’s just the two of you. He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you wonder what is it that’s got him in such a bad mood, if something happened in his life. “I have something to show you.”
He pulls out a piece of paper, setting it on his desk facing you. You approach, your footsteps slightly more hesitant than usual around him.
“Do you recognize this passage?” he asks, pointing to the highlighted paragraph.
You lean in to read it, an analysis of the similarities between classic English and South Korean literature. You recognize it immediately.
“I wrote it. That’s from my latest assignment.”
“Yes.” He’s still not looking at you, rummaging through a pile of papers. Did he not like the assignment? The thought alone upsets you. You worked so hard on it; not only for the sake of keeping your straight-As, but also to impress him. Maybe even more so to impress him. “How about this one?”
He sets another sheet of paper in front of you, one of the paragraphs highlighted in his same blue marker.
As you read it, your stomach immediately drops. It’s your paragraph, almost word-by-word, with a few differences that are too minor to even count.
“This is from Emily Jones’s paper. I believe the two of you are friends.”
You want to find Emily and strangle her. You told her to change stuff and not just copy from you. Did she really think someone like Mr. Hwang wouldn’t notice? That he’d just let it slide?
“I was the one who wrote the original,” you say. “I didn’t–”
“Oh, I know that. I’m very familiar with your writing style, and Ms. Jones isn’t nearly as gifted as you. I knew something was wrong the second I read it.”
You could play the victim, say Emily copied from you without your knowledge, but you know instantly it wouldn’t work, not with Mr. Hwang’s dark eyes right on you. Even when you’re not in emotional distress, the man can read you better than anyone else.
“I’m sorry.” You lower your gaze in shame. “Emily needed help, and I– she’s in the same exchange student program as I am, I know how much she needed the grade.”
“You could’ve helped her study, not let her copy off you.”
“There wasn’t a lot of time. She came to me last-minute.”
He sighs. “Well, I will have to fail both of you.”
“What?” It should be expected, but the words still sting. He knows how hard you work for your good grades. “But my essay was good.”
“It was great. Worthy of an A, if only you hadn’t helped another student with plagiarism. In fact, both of you should be reported for it.”
“Mr. Hwang, please.” Your eyes are practically begging him for mercy, the pitch of your voice getting ever so slightly higher as your desperation grows. “I can lose my scholarship and my spot at the exchange student program. Do you want me gone?”
You can see something flash across his eyes – regret, maybe, or perhaps that warmth you’ve been missing since you walked in here –, just for a split second before they’re back to normal, even more hardened than before.
“Cheating was your choice, not mine. You should’ve thought of the consequences.”
“What if– what if I wrote a new paper?” you bargain. “For half the grade. I can get it done in just a couple of days!”
“The paper is not the point. The point is how my most promising student would waste her talent to help a classmate cheat, and betray the trust I put in her.”
The praise doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but it fades away so quickly, like trying to hold on to smoke.
“It was a mistake. One that won’t happen again.”
“I’m very sorry, Ms. ____.”
You watch helplessly as he gathers the papers and organizes them back into a folder, the muscles of his arms tensed. He looks angry, but also upset. Disappointed. That sends you into an even bigger panic than a bad grade, or the potential of losing your spot at this university. It grows inside your chest, overwhelming, prompting you to say possibly the worst thing you could’ve come up with in this situation.
“What if I just take a whooping?”
He pauses. For a moment you’re both silent, still as statues as you process your own words, what you just asked for. Heat rises to your face so fast it makes you dizzy.
“What?”
You want to run away from this classroom. You want to go to the airport and take the next plane back to your country, classes and scholarship be damned.
However, now the words are already out, hanging heavy between the two of you. You can’t just back down, show him you spoke without thinking. You force yourself to nod, praying to the gods of every religion you know that your cheeks aren’t red enough that he can notice it.
“Yeah. It’s a good punishment,” you say. “Why not?”
“Because it’s not allowed. And because we are not in the 1930s.”
“You know in a lot of places corporal punishment in schools is still legal.”
“And Seoul isn’t one of them.”
“Please, Mr. Hwang.” You lower your eyes, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to rush to the surface. “I know what I did was wrong. But I’d never– willingly betray your trust. I just want to get my punishment, and for things to be back to normal.”
Above all, you want him to stop looking at you like he is right now. Like you’re just any other student, like he doesn’t admire you for your passion and intelligence. Like you haven’t been spending almost every evening after class with him instead of hanging out with your classmates, trying to make friends your own age. Like you don’t mean anything to him.
Mr. Hwang regards you for several long moments. You try to hold his intense gaze, to figure out what he’s thinking, but both tasks are impossible.
“Would you really put yourself through that for a grade?” he asks.
You shake your head slightly, but that stubborn determination doesn’t leave your eyes. “It’s not just a grade.”
His respect for you. The friendship you two have tentatively built over the past few months. That’s what you truly fear losing.
The seconds tick, stretching for so long it feels like torture. It’s so silent in the room you wonder if Mr. Hwang can hear how fast your heart is beating in your chest.
“Okay,” he says finally, sharply. “Fine.”
“Really?” You’re unable to keep the surprise from your voice, from your face, even though you try.
“If you think you can take it.” Something about his voice as he says it, the low baritone of it, sends a new rush of warmth to your body; this time descending directly between your legs.
“Of course I can.”
No, you probably can’t, and you’re well aware of that. But his words sound like a challenge, and a feeling claws at your chest – perhaps your pride and stubbornness, or simply embarrassment, or something else entirely that you’re not sure how to name – stops you from taking the words back.
“Alright then.” He gives a short nod, and you’re unsure if it was meant for you or for himself. “Bend over the desk.”
Why is it that a simple order for him makes your insides twitch like you’re about to pass out? Your legs shake as you take a step closer to his desk, looking down at the papers and folders neatly on top of it. Drawing in a breath, you bend your upper body down until your elbows touch the dark wood.
It’s only then that you notice your compromising position. Emily had joked with you about how the length of your skirts had gotten shorter with every visit to Mr. Hwang, and today’s pick was a plaid skirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination as it was. With you bending down like this, you can feel the fabric follow the movement, exposing even more of you to the professor.
The noise of his belt being removed only makes it worse. You shut your eyes, trying not to picture him letting his pants drop to the floor, trying not to think about how much you wish this is what was happening.
“Are you ready?” he asks, giving you one last chance to back down. You should take it.
You shut your eyes and nod your head. "Yes."
There’s a whistle in the air, and you let out a gasp as the first blow lands across your ass. Fuck. You’d seen it coming, and the fabric of the skirt absorbed much of the impact, but it still spreads the first hints of pain over your skin. Another blow directly under the first one, exactly where it should be. You clench your jaw, your mind flying back to childhood memories, to the last spanking you received at eleven years old – well over a decade ago, and yet you feel much more helpless now, a third blow of the belt making you jump in your spot.
The next one breaks the pattern, hitting on a diagonal angle right on top of the other three. It’s harder than the others too, sharper, slicing even deeper into your already stinging skin. You cry out, unable to hold it back, unable to catch your breath in time not to cry out again when the belt comes down on your ass one more time.
He sets a rhythm of harsh, punishing blows. They’re precise and calculated, deliberate, like he really means each and every one of them. Of course he does – when Professor Hwang sets his mind to something, he doesn’t quit until the job is done, down to the littlest details. And right now, he seems intent on making sure no spot of your ass is left untouched by the belt. He gradually picks up speed, until you’re unsure when one strike ends and the next begins.
It fucking hurts. It hurts so bad you don’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed when the fabric of your skirt slides up and out of the way, leaving your bottom and your underwear exposed to him.
The pain is even worse when the leather belt makes contact with your bare skin; sharp and blazing hot, like he’s setting fire to you. You’ve bitten the inside of your lip hard enough to draw blood, but that doesn’t stop the sounds being ripped out of you, whimpers and cries and something that sounds way too close to Mr. Hwang’s name.
He pauses, his breaths heavy behind you. You collapse against the desk, elbows no longer strong enough to keep you propped upwards. With your ear pressed against the surface, you can hear your own heard that thumps wildly inside your chest, all your senses concentrated into a single point in your body.
“Do you want to stop?” he asks.
His tone isn’t judgmental, but your mind still echoes his words from just a few minutes ago: if you think you can take it. You’re not giving up now.
“I’m fine,” you snap, way too breathless for the statement to have any real impact, although your stubborn defiance is certainly there. “Just fucking finish it.”
His hand, warm and broad, finds its way in between your shoulder blades. He leans in, puts his weight into it, keeping you firmly pressed down over the desk. For some reason, your instinct isn’t to squirm away but to push into the heat, but you can’t move much one way or another under his grip.
“Then stay still.” His voice is so much closer to you, making you wish you had the strength to lift your head up and chase for his eyes.
Half a breath after the words are out, he strikes you again; this time with his other hand.
You sob and buck against the desk, the legs of it scraping against the floor. You can’t tell if his palm is better or worse than the belt. The pain isn’t as biting, but it’s broader and warmer, sending more fire into your already burning flesh. And it’s then that you realize you’re pushing into it, arching your back as best as you can, tilting your ass up to meet the assault. Basically offering it on a silver platter, presenting it to him and his ferocious, punishing hand.
And you’re wet.
You can feel it soak your panties, so much that you’re sure Mr. Hwang will be able to see a wet spot on them if he looks for it. Humiliated tears rise to your eyes, leaving you in a tumbling sob, desperately seeking relief but not wanting this to ever stop.
“M-Mr. Hwang.” The next strike hits you way too close to your core, the tiniest bit of friction that feels like heaven. You hiccup another cry, tears falling down and pooling over the smooth surface of the desk. “Please, I–”
You don’t even know what you’re pleading for anymore, but the word continues to leave your lips, over and over. His fingers come down hard over the sensitive spot where your ass meets your thighs, and you wonder if he knows what he’s doing to you – if he knows you’re on the brink of an orgasm just from this, that if he touches over you even for one second it might be enough to push you over the edge. He keeps going, alternates between one cheek and the other, his open palm covering as much skin as it can.
His hand travels down lower once again, warming your thighs to the same blistering heat as your ass. “God,” you breathe. You hadn’t noticed how hard your fingers are gripping the edges of the desk, your knuckles white, as if holding on could somehow save you.
He pauses again, and you can’t tell if you’re relieved or disappointed. You feel yourself throb inside your panties, wet and hot and neglected.
“Count them,” he orders.
You wince as his hand hits a sore spot, on top of skin that had already been hit too many times. “O-one.”
He lashes again and again.
“Two, three– fuck! F-four– fuck, please. I can’t, I can’t count anymore.” You’re unable to think straight at this point, unable to do anything other than cry and feel and want.
“God,” he sounds wrecked as well and you can’t understand why; you’re the one who feels as if you’re fighting for your life. He watches you, and you can’t decide if you’re embarrassed at your own state, the tears on your face and your ass that’s probably bright red by now, exposed to the professor, or if you’re too desperate for a release to think about that.
“It’s okay.” His hand lands on your hip, but doesn’t strike you again. It only caresses, his touch feather-light and delicate, a stark contrast to the harsh blows. “You did good.”
The light touch is enough to make you moan, breathing a deep sigh of relief. His touch feels unintentional, like he’s mesmerized, not fully aware of what he’s doing as he simply as he tries to ease the sting from the spanking. But when he drops down to press a kiss to the back of your shoulder, his body heat enveloping you – that can’t be accidental.
You lean into his touch as best as you can, and that’s when you feel it; something hard press against your core through layers of clothing, his cock a perfect, undeniable point of heat against you.
Both of you let our a simultaneous moan when you rub yourself back against his length. You want nothing more than for him to split you open, to push into you without a warning, without giving you time to adjust. Not that you’d last a long time, but you’d let him keep thrusting into you, having his way with your body until he was satisfied.
His hand slides under your bodies, inside your underwear.
“In-ho,” you sigh, a weak sound.
The sound of his name seems to pull you from whatever trance he’s stuck in. He stops, fingers just inches from your clit, like he’s only just realizing he’s on top of a student in his classroom. You try to lift yourself up, to rub against him again, but he doesn’t move.
He pulls away from you, and you feel like you could cry again in sheer desperation. Instead, you just stay there against the desk, wondering what the fuck just happened.
After a few moments, he lifts you up gently by the arms, turning you around to face him. He smooths out your sweater, but he doesn’t look at you. Not even once.
“You can go now, Ms. ____.”
You look at him in disbelief – first at his face, then at the tent that’s still very much apparent at the front of his pants.
“But–” you stammer. “Don’t… don’t you want me to–?”
He’s back in professor mode, organizing his papers that had turned into a mess. Still not fucking looking at you. His hair, usually neatly combed back, is now all over the place, and he looks like he’s about to break down himself.
“I’ll take care of the… assignment issue,” he says. “Go back to your dorm. It’s getting late.”
You don’t dare to disobey, even when tears rush to your eyes once again. Maybe it was all just about the assignment to him, and you got it all wrong. Or maybe – the thought hurts before it’s even fully formed in your mind – he regrets everything you’ve done.
It’s a short walk to your dorm, and you’ve never been more grateful that your roommate is not around. You throw yourself into your bed, hissing as your ass lights up in pain. It brings up all the memories back at once; the crack of the belt in the air, his warm hand stinging on your skin, the outline of his cock pressed against you.
You’re still soaked when you bring your own hand past your skirt and into your panties, not bothering to actually take them off. Two fingers slide inside, instantly finding a spot that melts your insides and makes you clench around yourself. Your other hand grips your own hip, intensifying the pain there.
“Mr. Hwang,” you moan, just to say it out loud. Your thumb brushes over your clit, just a hint of a touch and you’re gone, coming so fucking hard around fingers you do your best to pretend are his instead of yours, just at the thought of him doing this to you.
You come down slowly, so dazed you can barely open your eyes, but it doesn't bother you. Your ass has gone from searing hot to a dull, lingering ache, sure to keep you hurting for days to come. Good. You fall asleep thinking about it, thinking of his voice and his hands on you, trying to live in those moments for as long as you can.
#hwang inho x reader#young il x reader#the frontman x reader#hwang inho x you#the frontman x you#squid game x reader#lee byung hun x reader#my fics
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⎯ caught in the webs. ( teaser ) ⟡ featuring han jisung



🕷️ : Spider-Man! Han Jisung x implied! fem. reader
TROPE. Spider-Man! au, nerd Jisung! au, high school! au, pining, confessions (somewhat), slight self-doubt, a little angst, nervous sungie :(
WORD COUNT. estimated to be around 4k-7k words
WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of an existential crisis, slight anxiety/degradation of oneself
AUG'S NOTES. hi hi—! although my initial plan was to produce some cute, enemies to lovers teachers! au with our beloved seungmin (which will eventually come to be, don’t worry), a bit of dialogue came to me one night for a spider-man au with hannie. ….i wrote nearly 3k in a day. as for now, however, tell me your thoughts and please enjoy this snippet!
PLAYLIST.
SYNOPSIS. To everyone else in high school, Han Jisung is just a nervous, somehow ingenious chemistry nerd. And yet, beneath the glasses and long hours studying, a secret lies. Because Han Jisung isn’t just a nerd, but Seoul’s one and only, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. But what happens when he finds himself head over heels for no one but you? No less scrambling for the courage to ask you out before the Valentine’s Dance? Between the fine-line of his secret identity and the more he falls for you each day, he finds himself hoping you feel the same way.
or alternatively :
In which the tangle of webs makes for complications, and love.
“And- I mean, it’s not like she knows I’m Spider-Man so,” Han rationalizes, hands flailing about in an awkward manner of both panic and hope, currently spilling his worries out to a luckily, ever patient Chan.
That is, opposed to Minho (Han’s official roommate) whom the two both know would nod his head and eventually (bluntly) tell Han he’s thinking far too hard before going back to studying.
And yet, at this very moment, Minho might be the sole reprieve in calming said boy’s nerves with his no-nonsense attitude.
Because in less than three weeks their high school’s annual Valentine’s dance will be here, and if anyone knows something about Han Jisung, it’s the borderline pitiful way he pines over you like some neglected puppy, a factor it seems only you don’t notice.
As for the thing nobody knows of apart from some greatly trusted compadre’s, Han Jisung isn’t simply a dorky high schooler, but Seoul’s one and only, (trying-to-be) friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.
Who.. is having a heart attack merely thinking of your face, your laughter, your smile, your— ugh.
Three weeks to gain as much style and confidence as he can muster and, first and foremost, the balls to even ask you out when the time comes.
To put it simply, he’s fucked.
Completely, utterly, fucked.
Biochemistry with Mr. Jang is the pits when it comes down to his hour-long lectures, but it isn’t the boredom itself grasping his attention so deliberately, it’s you.
Two seats ahead, one seat to the right.
And oh, if Han isn’t smitten.
You’re smart, stupidly smart. With your pretty hair and pretty face and crinkling eyes when you smile, where your lips curl in delight. You seem to glow, as if an ethereal fae he’d learn of in childish folklore, come alive amid his wildest daydreams.
So it’s the shrill ring of the dismissal bell that has him jumping from his seat, palms slapping against the wood of his desk with a stinging force effectively gaining the attention of most everyone in the class.
And the harrowing silence.
Trust, his face goes beet red, and Jisung had never choked on an apology faster in his life beneath Mr. Jang’s scrutinizing stare.
Though, from the corner of his eye, he can see it: that breathtaking smile of yours hidden behind a hand as you laugh.
Jackpot.
Han Jisung has just hit the lottery.
Even if it was his scolding earning your laughter. But he’d brush off the matter a thousand times over to see that smile again. And again and again, like a selfish itch incapable of being satiated.
He really is hopeless.
.
.
.
“No you don’t get it! She smiled at me and—“
The rest is a series of groans and oddly unintelligible sounds, ones the partner of his decides not to inquire about.
Now squirming around the hallways, Jisung buries his face into his hands, whining loudly. Third period leads both him and Minho to Physics together, the decently spaced walk across campus to the classroom allowing leeway for (currently-kept-secret) Spider-Man’s groveling.
Funny story, actually.
The way Minho found out, that is.
Having grown used to his webs over the few months of adjusting, he’d been ignorant in forgetting his roommate would be home as well.
Which.. ensued the piece of bread he used his webs to beckon over—while making the glorious concoction donned as a grilled cheese—met with Minho’s furrowed, evidently confused brows and an equally, albeit slow, acceptance whilst continuing on to the fridge.
A predictable reaction, Jisung would’ve supposed.
If not for the fact he downright begged the boy to not tell, dread forming in his stomach merely watching that sly, mischief-filled sneer curl at his roommate’s lips.
Laundry and dish-duty for a week.
Thanks, Minho.
As for Chan’s introduction to Seoul’s friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, the two had been approaching each other after Chan’s football practice when the older of the two tossed a football at the younger counterpart, under the (accurate) impression Jisung couldn’t catch to save his life.
That was correct.
The unable-to-catch part, yeah.
But of course, per his luck, if Han couldn’t catch it, that damned radioactive spider would help him catch it.
And he did. Both hands, firm and fast.
Quick enough to freak the quarterback out and, given a few weeks time, unveil his secret after one too many tests on his reflexes and a downright scary amount of footballs thrown at his head.
“So you’re diseased.”
“I am not, we’ve been over this.”
“You’re walking on the ceiling.”
Fair enough, he’d admit if not for the cereal (that he currently figures out how to hold upside down- or right side up? It’s hard to tell) stuffed in his cheeks, feigning a glare matching Minho’s where his roommate pokes his nose indignantly prior to beginning off towards the bathroom.
Nearly 8am, and he’s aiming to keep comfy pajamas on as long as possible before having to exchange for school clothes.
Curious, observant umber irises waste time peering at the expanse of his torso visible where he hangs upside down, lips forming into an ‘o’ of awe seeing the defined lines descending down his belly flex with every move.
Those are new.
Perks of a spider bite, huh.
Of the few.
Eventually resorting to doing forgotten dishes, he patiently waits for the grumpy roommate of his to finish in the bathroom, rumbling echo of the hairdryer synthesizing with the morning news’ daily report.
Weather, local updates. But the portion gathering his attention comes in the form of the headline: Creeping villain, Lizard, once again detained by Seoul’s mysterious vigilante, Spider-Man.
And simultaneously, listening in on the story, he finds a glow of pride settling in his chest.
He did that. With a few bruises and scrapes sufficing as evidence but, overall, his doing.
Nevertheless, with the rising pride comes the rising stupidity.
Apparently.
Resulting in, while lost in the throes of his inflating ego, the reckless unleash of webs upon random surfaces as fast as he can manage, failing to notice the risky positioning of a web by his foot until—as if from a cartoon—he trips over it.
“Ow! My foot- and my coffee..”
The shatter of his mug and Minho’s exasperated sigh seem to speak for themselves.
sunboki, may 2022 ©
#straykids x y/n#straykids x you#straykids x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#straykids fluff#skz angst#skz x y/n#skz x you#skz x reader#skz fluff#straykids angst#stray kids angst#han jisung x y/n#han jisung x you#han jisung x reader#han jisung fluff#han jisung angst#jisung angst#jisung x y/n#jisung x you#jisung x reader#skz han x reader
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★ ⋆ midnight bagels ⋆
robert chase x f!reader ONE SHOT !
word count: 3k summary: When Chase runs into an old university friend at a bar, he's caught off guard—not just by the coincidence, but by how quickly forgotten feelings resurface. a/n: had this sitting in my docs for a while. love my problematic australian babygirl warnings: fluff, light alcohol use
The bar was loud, crowded, and warm that night. Foreman had just ordered a third drink. Cameron and House were quietly sipping their drinks at a table. Chase was getting bored with them, not drunk enough to be content with the silence.
“Alright, I’m gonna take a walk,” He said, getting out of his chair slowly.
House looked up and tilted his head ever so slightly. “Don’t get too lost, pretty boy.”
Chase ignored his comment and left to go to the restroom. Although the team had just finished a stressful case, he still had enough energy in himself to somewhat socialize and participate in the environment around him. He preferred that to sitting around. It was easier to take his mind off of the events earlier in the day by distractions rather than processing.
After using the restroom he started heading back to Cameron and House.
There was a particularly dense area in the room, and as Chase was struggling to get past a woman, she turned her head and he stopped dead in his tracks.
“Chase?”
It had been years since you last saw your colleague from the University of Sydney.
“Wow it’s been forever,” he says, a smile beginning to spread on his face.
“I was thinking the same thing.”
He laughs. “What the hell are you doing here?”
It was a long story. “Let’s grab a drink first.”
Memories start flooding back into Chase’s mind. You two had a few of the same classes together. He wasn’t a great student at the time, he was always distracted and still trying to figure out what his plans in life were. You were constantly there for him and the two of you studied for hours, no, days on end.
You were smart, pretty, composed, and Chase had always fantasized a life with you. He never had the courage to ask you out. If only he had his current confidence back then, things would be drastically different now, so he thought. He figured that you had wanted to keep things platonic in order to focus on school.
He had nearly forgotten about you. But occasionally when there was some symptom that House wrote on his old whiteboard that you and him had studied about, he would get a glimpse of your smile. Your hair. The way you threw your head back when you laughed, most of the time at him.
“What do you want? Wait, let me guess, a beer,” you grin. The light from the neon lights behind the bartender perfectly illuminated your features, and Chase needed a moment to bring his thoughts together.
“Guess you remember me so well, don’t you, yeah, I’ll have a beer.”
You ordered something arbitrary, and soon you were both heading to a small booth in the corner of the bar. Chase couldn’t help but stare at your short shiny blue dress that hugged your sides perfectly as you slid into the seat across from him. He said down and took a large sip of his beverage,
He was going to need it. Liquid courage.
“Alright. Explain. What are you doing all the way here in Jersey?”
You sighed, shoulders sagging slightly. “I’m living in New York. My parents begged me to come back to the states after school. I wanted to stay in Sydney, but my dad got sick, and I felt guilty for not helping my mom,” you started. Chase simply nodded and continued to look at you with wide eyes.
“Since I got my undergrad in business, I worked my way up and became a healthcare administrator. Decided being a physician wasn’t the move. Anyways, besides the point. My friend lives out here and I decided to pay her a visit after she got a divorce. Messy, but necessary. I was just with her tonight but I needed to get away from the sobbing on the couch and wallowing in self pity. I needed to just have some fun. This was the nearest place… and now I’m here.”
Chase felt like there were gaps in your story, but it was enough to explain why you were out here. “Oh. I see.”
You pick up your glass and tilt it towards him. “Your turn.”
Chase explained how he was working for House on a team that worked with diagnostics, and that they just finished a large patient case tonight.
“So you’re celebrating?” You ask.
“Eh, not exactly. Sometimes we just end up here. Usually we drink to sort of forget. House likes the extreme cases and they’re exhausting and this is how we… cope.”
“Sounds healthy,” you laugh.
Chase shakes his head. His eyes flick towards your left hand, taking note of the vacancy on your ring finger.
“I know it’s been forever, but I have to ask, weren’t you… engaged?”
You nearly spit out your drink. “Can’t believe you remember that. Was. Yes. Turns out he was a douche, was cheating on me with my best friend at the time, and I broke it off.”
He grimaces. “I’m so sorry.”
You cut him off with a laugh, throwing your head back in your usual manner. Some things never change, Chase thinks to himself. “That was ages ago. Nothing to be sorry about. I dodged a bullet.”
You notice that Chase’s hand is in a similar state to yours. “No luck on your behalf?”
It’s strange that you hadn’t seen each other in so long and the first conversation topic is the relationship status of the other. “You don’t think I get lucky?”
You roll your eyes. “Whatever, Robert.”
His heart skips a beat. Hearing you say his first name felt so… intimate. He felt transported to a moment of sitting shoulder to shoulder with you, staring at some diagram trying to memorize it.
“Honestly, House keeps us so busy I feel like I have no time for a social life. It’s just ‘I wake up, work, and go back to bed’ most of the time,” Chase starts to explain.
You turn your head slightly, giving him a quick side eye, “You, too busy? Not even you have time for a social life? Who have you become, Robert Chase?”
He runs a hand through his blond locks and looks down at his drink. “I know. I’m not the same person I was in the past. Guess people do change.”
You lift the rest of your drink up to your lips and finish it in one sip. “Too busy for even a fun night,” you mutter under your breath.
Chase looks up quickly, seeing what seems to be… a slightly disappointed version of yourself.
“What did you say?” He says, leaning back and folding his arms.
To his surprise you stand up quickly, grabbing your empty glass. “I’m getting a refill,” you nod down towards his almost empty mug. “Quick, bottoms up.” Before a moment to think, he drinks the rest and hands you the cup.
Then you were gone. Momentarily. He watches as you move over to the counter, asking the bartender for more.
Did she really just say a “fun night”? Was she suggesting something happen between us?
A tall figure came up beside you, snapping Chase out of his thoughts. The man grabs your upper arm, and you look over, glaring at him with angry eyes. He was pulling you away, in the direction of the exit, but you were resisting, trying to get away while not causing a large scene in the bar.
Chase jumps out of his chair and comes nearly running over to you.
“Hey! What’s your problem?” Chase grips the man by his jacket collar. Clearly the alcohol in his veins was finally giving him some courage, and it was amplified by the rush of adrenaline to protect you. The man seemed extremely drunk, probably had seen the first pretty girl closest to him and wanted to take advantage of the moment.
He didn’t say anything to Chase, but Chase shook him and bore his blue eyes into his soul and he immediately let go of your arm, turned and walked away. Chase watched intensely, making sure the man didn’t look back. Once he was far enough away, Chase notices how hard he was breathing, and he turns to look at you. You were clearly shaken, but relieved.
“Oh my gosh, thank you. That was terrifying. That hasn’t happened to me in ages. This is why I never come to bars.”
You instinctively move closer to Chase, and to your surprise, he wraps an arm around you. “Let’s get out of here.”
Not questioning for a second, you let him lead you towards the front of the room. This was closer than you had ever gotten to Robert Chase. You liked him, sure, when you were both students. Liked him as a friend. You kept your distance with him. But you were too caught up with other guys, ignoring the one that was always by your side, figuratively. And now Chase was literally by your side, protecting you from danger and offering company after a somewhat miserable weekend with your friend.
It felt, bubbly. Maybe that was the drink settling in your stomach, or maybe something else.
Maybe it was the fact that you were being escorted out by a handsome, Australian doctor who had saved you from some trauma.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
You both stop. Chase turns and sees Foreman and House at the table from earlier. Cameron must have already gone home.
“Who’s this lovely lady? My, what a dress,” House begins.
“Goodnight. Enjoy the rest of your evening,” Chase says, cutting the older man off.
To you, they just looked like some random men, but you assume this is part of Chase’s team.
As you begin to walk away, Chase leans and whispers in your ear. “House is the older one. He’s an ass sometimes. He doesn’t mean anything by his… comment.”
A devilish smile curls at your lips. “What, you don’t agree with him?”
Now he’s flustered. “Wait, hold on. That’s not what I mean. I mean, you do look lovely, and your dress.” His face turns into slight confusion. “Why are you wearing a dress like that anyways?”
You know It is a bit much for just a casual night out. Your friend had forced you to wear it, claiming that she was going to live vicariously through you since she was too wiped to party and forget about her ex-husband. Craving attention and an interesting night anyways, you agreed to wear it.
“It’s my… friend’s. She begged me to wear it.” You purposely left out the details that you wanted to be noticed. After a few failed relationships in the last few years and months of what felt like a man-drought, putting on a fun dress and going out to meet strangers seemed like the “right” thing to do.
As you walk through the exit with him, Chase shrugs his shoulders. It was believable enough. The cold air hits your skin and goosebumps crawl over your neck and arms.
“Brr,” you say, jokingly.
Chase was kicking himself internally for not wearing a jacket that he could have taken off to keep you warm. He had left it in his car and was only wearing his slacks and a dark blue button down shirt. He wraps his arm a little more tightly around you.
“Sorry. My car is just around the corner. Do you want to wait here while I get it?”
You glance nervously behind you, remembering the big scary man from just moments ago. “Uhh, I’ll walk with you,” you say, looking sheepishly at him.
Strong, independent woman has been left behind. Your usual stoic disposition had worn off in the presence of Chase. His mere presence was enough to lower your defenses and make you rely on him.
You both are quiet now as you walk to his car. He opens the door to the passenger side, and you slip in, and wait for him to get in the driver’s seat.
“What now?” Chase asks, turning to you.
You look at him with wide eyes. “You tell me.”
“Have you had New Jersey bagels?” He blurts out.
Ideally, he would have you back at his place, maybe making out on the couch. No, that’s too much. Maybe just watching a movie. Or something else…
But he was far too nervous to even get there first. He needed something else to distract himself. “There’s a place that stays open after midnight and the bagels are discounted.”
“I’ve had New Jersey bagels, this isn’t my first time here,” you laugh, “but I’ve never had bagels after midnight.” Eyeing the car dashboard, you see that it’s just after twelve, and although it is late, you are starving.
Maybe starving for something else too.
“Alright.” Chase puts the car in drive and heads down the street. It only takes a few minutes to get there, and on the way you talk about Chase’s team.
“The older guy is House. The one who commented on your… dress,” Chase begins.
“He seems charming to work with.”
“Never tell him this, but he’s incredibly smart. And he’s usually right about things. Until he’s not. Then he causes a mess. But he’s usually causing a mess when he’s right. Truth is, the hospital needs him. So he’s able to walk all over us and the rest of the staff, and even the patients to get what he wants.”
“Which is,”
“I don’t even know… the satisfaction? The answers to his own questions?”
Chase sighs.
“Yet you still work with him.”
“Yeah. Alone, I couldn’t do it. At least we have a team. The guy next to him is Foreman. He’s smart too. And a lot more bearable than House is.”
You remember him mentioning one other person on the team in your earlier conversation. “Who’s the other?”
“Cameron. She’s the heart of the team but sometimes it gets in the way. Always questioning the ethics, which pretty much goes against Houses’ standards.”
You nod. “Sounds like a great team.”
He scoffs. “They’re interesting all right, but it keeps things rolling. I’d die if I had to take boring cases. At least House always picks the entertaining ones.”
“Boring cases? They’re still people too.”
Chase turns to you and sees that you’re not joking around. Guess I’ve been spending too much time with House. “You’re right. But I don’t think an average doctor could help some of these more bizarre cases that we take.”
You tilt your head. “Hmm. That’s a good way to look at it. Let the other doctors take care of the “normal cases” and you guys can tackle the more complicated ones.”
He’s relieved that you didn’t keep digging more at what he had said.
“I knew you’d end up here,” your voice cuts through his thoughts.
“What does that mean?”
You smile. “Taking on the difficult stuff. Even when you struggled with a problem or memorizing something in school, you stuck to it. I always admired that in you. Most people give up when something gets hard. It’s like the opposite with you. You lean into the challenge. No wonder you can put up with someone as crazy as House. You love it.”
Chase pulls the car into a parking lot next to a small bakery. The sign above it shines “open” and he sighs. “Ready for the best bagel of your life?”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
He continues to think about what you had just said to him. It had been a long time since someone had acknowledged his efforts to work hard. House was not one to give compliments, Foreman was too occupied and maybe too prideful to give any up, and Cameron had shut him out emotionally a long time ago.
It felt nice to be appreciated for once.
You order a simple poppy seed bagel with cream cheese and he gets a cinnamon swirl one.
As you wait for the food to be ready, Chase leans towards you. “Thanks.”
You turn and look at him puzzled. “Thanks for what?”
“Um,” he looks down at his feet and then back to your eyes, his heart skipping a beat. “Thanks for the compliment?”
Your face feels warm. Hopefully in the more dim lighting he can’t see your cheeks turning red. “Oh. Yeah of course. You really are hardworking.”
The bagels are ready and Chase grabs the bag. “Wanna take em to go?”
“Yeah.”
You get back in his car with him and he pulls out of the parking lot.
“I know it’s been forever since we’ve seen each other and I hope this doesn’t come off as weird or too forward, but do you wanna go back to my place and eat them? I’ve been watching Survivor and maybe we could watch some of it. Not sure if you’re keeping up with it or not.”
You open the bagel bag and take a whiff of the bread. “I might not be able to wait till your place,” you laugh, resisting the urge to grab them out of the bag and start eating.
“Hang on!” He grabs the bag away from you and you throw your head back laughing. “You gotta wait!”
“Oh come on,” you say, reaching out and trying to take the bag back.
He tucks it on the left side of his seat. “If you want em, you’ll have to come and get them,” he taunts.”
You unbuckle your seatbelt and suddenly you’re reaching across his lab, arms out, trying to grab the bagels.
“Hey!” Chase yells as you snatch the bag. “Give it back!”
He reaches and snags your wrist, holding it tightly so it won’t move and with his other arm he attempts to get the bag.
Your body is halfway over the middle console of the car, and you’re so close to his face, completely at mercy to Chase’s arms holding you.
There’s a moment of silence cut with both of your exasperated panting. You glance down at his lips, then at his eyes. He’s already looking at you.
The playfulness simmers between you two, leaving a heavier tension, not uncomfortable. A tension you hadn’t felt since you were last with him years ago.
“You’re ridiculous,” you whisper, your voice ever so slightly shaky.
He grins, not taking his eyes off you. “You started it.”
You don’t know who leans in first, maybe it’s both of you at the same time. But time seems to slow down as you magnetically lean in towards each other. His blonde hair brushes your forehead. Your noses nearly bump.
And then he kisses you.
It’s tentative at first, like he’s asking a question, and when you don’t pull away, it deepens, his hand slackens but stays around your wrist. Your fingers relax around the crinkled bag of bagels, forgotten for now, and you reach and place a hand on his chest, feeling his quickened heartbeat.
When you finally part, he’s smiling again, but his eyes are soft and he’s a little breathless.
“Told you you'd have to come and get them.”
You blush. “Worth it.”
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#dr chase x reader#robert chase x reader#robert chase x you#dr chase x you#house md#house md fanfic#robert chase fanfic#robert chase one shot#dr house#dr house fanfic#robert chase fanfiction#robert chase reader insert
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Heat

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Many many moons ago (this might be an exaggeration), I wrote a direct message to @undercoverpena about one of her text posts that sent me into a horny spiral. I loved it. You can read the text post here. At lot happened since then, and I bet you all that she must have forgotten or thought I would not finish it, but alas I return from the dead.
Summary: Javier looks so delicious doing hard work under the sun. The kids aren’t home. Heat is not just what the sun gives, it can also be a state of your body.
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, clit stim, piv sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, rough sex, javi p is sweaty and you are horny
Word count: 3k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51636391
Heat
It’s a thousand degrees outside.
It’s the beginning of autumn and it’s boiling hot, so warm that one cannot fully enjoy the weather when it makes everything feel crispier. You’ll be damned if you are going to spend the sparse and sacred hours of being childfree inside your house with a pout though, because your father-in-law has the kids after a long period of him being unable to babysit.
One would think that now that your three children are in Abuelo Chucho’s hands, it would mean having a long-awaited, as well as well-deserved, date night with your husband, but Javier has decided to spend the day renovating the back porch in the heat. You haven’t rolled your eyes at him yet, but the urge has been there several times.
You sit on the porch swing, dangling your feet just above the wooden boards that are soon to be removed and replaced. There’s a glass of cold lemonade in your hand, a bee buzzing somewhere nearby.
Javier is in the shed at the back of the garden. You can hear him move things around, occasionally letting out a swear word moments after something clatters to the floor with a loud bang.
You sip your lemonade through its straw. The honey bee has found the bush of lavender, and you let your eyes close to listen to the sounds of late summer, the start of fall. The sun dances on your lids, sweat forms at the small of your back just above your shorts and right below your cropped t-shirt.
After a few minutes where you’ve leaned back into the backrest of the porch swing, and nearly fallen asleep, you hear Javier returning. Automatically, your eyes open at hearing him speak.
“Hey, enjoying yourself?” He has come over to peck your lips. You allow it, holding up the glass of lemonade afterward to watch his lips close around the straw. He takes a long sip whilst his eyes are fixed on yours.
“Gotta stay hydrated if you want to work in this heat,” you note.
“Just gonna be all pretty sitting there and watching me?” He asks after swallowing, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his Adam's Apple bobs.
“Mh-hm,” you nod without saying much, knowing you’ll break if you try to get an actual sentence out.
“Alright,” he just replies, and you swear you catch some sort of undertone in his voice. He kisses you again, lingering a second too long for you to be indifferent towards it, and then stretches again. A less collected version of you wants to undo his belt right there, but you let him go instead. Not without regret though.
And then he starts working, dragging planks across the soon-naked porch deck, and you start sweating even more at the sight. Even moreso at the grunts he elicits during his labor.
Javier is beautiful underneath the burning sun, sweat-slicked chest hair peeking out from under his grayish shirt that he has unbuttoned at the top. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows because they cannot go up any further than that, tightening around the beginnings of his biceps and causing your head to swim when you think about those arms around you.
You allow yourself to ogle him as he is lost in the task. The straw in your lemonade sits in your mouth, your tongue curling around it briefly before you sip to clench your thirst. There’s sweat collecting on Javier’s brow, threatening to drip down, and when it finally does slide down the side of his head, your eyes burn from refraining from blinking as you watch the beads roll down his neck and into the clavicle of it. You press your thighs together.
The gray shirt has darkened in color around his shoulders due to dampness. Whenever Javier turns his back to you, you can see the darker patch has reached his lower back too. Your tongue darts out to lick at nothing around your mouth, and you know that your husband would laugh at you if he saw it.
There’s something dirty about watching the way he brushes slick hair from his forehead. He has knelt down on the deck by now, occasionally on all fours when he reaches for something in front of himself, and when he gets really concentrated, straining his back muscles so much that the shirt starts fighting for its life, he pulls a face that nearly makes you fall off the porch swing.
You bite your lip, choose your words but none seems to do the job so you settle for something more simple, “Javi.”
“Sí, mi amor?” Javier doesn’t look up.
You remind yourself that he has talked about redoing the porch since his father agreed to take the kids. You won’t spoil it for him, and you know that a half-finished project with three kids is not an ideal situation for you, so you compose yourself.
“I think I need to get out of the sun for a bit, can I get you some water?” You ask instead of getting on your knees to beg - or more - and then you walk past him.
“Sure,” he replies as you pass him, and it makes you unable to see the smirk on his face, “Water would be great. Thanks, honey.”
Inside the kitchen, you fill a glass with cold water from the refrigerator. You even get a few ice cubes from the tray in your freezer but instead of dumping them into your husband’s drink, you hold them against your chest with a sigh of relief. Something burns in the pit of your stomach, even more when you return to the porch and hand Javier the glass of water. He hasn’t gotten less enticing; shirt clinging to him, hair sticking to his forehead, a groan as he gets up from the floor.
“Should be done by tomorrow,” he says as he takes the glass from your hand, causing a bolt of electricity to shoot down your spine as your fingers brush. It’s ridiculous since both of you know that he is yours already.
“Mm-hm,” you watch him gulp down nearly all of his drink.
And then he does something that you might never recover from; he pours the remaining water over himself in an attempt to cool down. It wets his hair even more, and he runs his thick fingers through it to shake out the excess droplets.
Time stands still. Your heart hammers in your chest, pulse traveling through your veins until you can feel the throbbing of each heartbeat between your legs. You press your thighs together and let out a whimper of breath.
“Baby?” You say softly to earn a hm? It feels shameful to meet Javier’s eyes. However when you do, you notice his pupils have dilated in desire, gaze flickering down your body for the shortest time, and you choose to strike.
You step into Javier’s personal space, hand reaching up to lie on his chest. The soft pads of your fingers rest on his skin where his buttons are undone, and you try to keep a doe-eyed look on your face as you rub his exposed skin gently.
“I was thinking,” you start, trail off.
“Yes?” He drags the word out. You can hear the smirk on his face but it feels too vulnerable to look him in the eye.
“Since we’re alone,” you continue, gaze fixated on the chest hair that is exposed in the heat, “And since there’s air conditioning inside, we could do something together.”
“Do what?” He says like someone who has figured you out. His strong hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, lifting your palm to his mouth. He kisses it.
Your face burns with embarrassment at the fact that you can barely contain yourself in his presence. That and the fact that it is usually so easy, so why does it feel so difficult to ask for what you want?
“You know what.”
“I need you to say it, need you to ask for it, mi vida,” he teases and places your hand on the side of his face. He releases a breath at your touch, eyes fluttering closed so you feel brave enough to look up at his face. He leans further into you and looks as ready as you to give in.
“I need you to touch me,” your voice trembles. Javier just barely shudders at hearing your words, opening his eyes once more to reveal their darkened color.
“Touch you where?” Javier continues his little game. He mirrors you, touches your face too, “Here?”
“No.”
His hand moves down to brush your neck, “Here then? It must be here.”
“No,” you shake your head, “Please, Javi.”
Javier’s hand slides down your front and settles on the exposed skin of your belly. It causes you to hold your breath. Then it goes down, slips past the elastic band of your shorts and into your damp underwear. You gasp as two of his fingers slide through the wetness between your legs, tips finding your pulsing clit immediately after. Thank God you have hedges around the back garden and thank God that they’re tall enough to keep prying eyes away from the scene that unfolds.
“What about here? I hope it’s here because I don’t want to stop,” he rubs you off slowly until your legs start to shake underneath you. He works his fingers back and forth, from side to side, one on either side of your clit and something builds and builds and—
You come with a little cry and bury your face in Javier’s chest. Your hand on the side of his face falls down to his shoulder which you grip as you soak your underwear even more, thighs trapping his hand as they clamp together. As your head spins, Javier chuckles out a swear word above you.
“Never gets old,” he adds and you start giggling.
After a few seconds of letting you breathe, Javier cups your face and lifts your lips to his own in a kiss that tells you everything you need to know, where you’re heading, which direction. You kiss him back slowly and he licks the inside of your mouth, guides you toward the screen door that leads inside of the house. He has you, you want to say, body and soul.
“Let me take my beautiful wife to bed,” he begs and you nod repeatedly, mumbling a soft plea. He peppers you with sweet kisses that turn more heated as you get closer to the bedroom door. He toes off his shoes on the way, leaving them forgotten in the hallway along with pieces of clothing that he sheds you and himself of.
When you’re both naked, sticking together from the sweat that is already shining on your skin, he hoists you up and carries you to the bed effortlessly. You cling to him by wrapping your limbs around his body, and he kneels down on the bed and places you on your back - and then he doesn’t leave but instead melts into you.
“Te deseo mucho, mi amor,” he murmurs and crushes you so heavenly with his weight, connecting his lips to your throat and sucking a purple mark onto your skin. You’ll scold him for it later but right now, you simply whine. His voice vibrates against your neck, “You really thought all I was gonna do was redo the stupid porch? Not do you?”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you bite back with no real hostility, first snorting at his choice of words and then letting out a sigh as he continues tasting your salty skin, “I was ready to go insane, so please fuck me.”
“Dramatic as ever,” he teases and then holds himself up with one arm so he can reach down between your bodies. You bend your legs and let your knees fall out to the sides, breath hitching until it becomes a whimper when the head of Javier’s cock slides through your folds.
“Please,” you say, and have never been so willing. His cockhead catches on your clit, and your moan comes out a lot louder than intended. You are just about to cover your mouth with your hand when you realize you don’t have to; you can cry and whine and scream all you want to. It makes you yearn for him in a newfound sense and makes you want to scream already.
“Paciencia, mi amor,” he tuts but still reads your mind. He enters you a moment later, pushing inside easily from the slick that’s already smearing your inner thighs. He groans as you take him, eyes intensely focused on yours whilst stretching your pussy open in a delicious sting. Your hands find his broad shoulders instead of their usual place clamped down on your mouth. You let yourself be noisy as you adjust.
“That’s it,” he slurs, “Be noisy all you want. Good girl.”
When he pulls out and eases back in, the two of you moan in unison. He does it again but follows it up with a breathless laugh when your noises already climb in pitch.
“I know, baby, I know,” he says soothingly as if you’ve hurt yourself.
But then he shows no mercy and speeds up. His rhythm becomes something else entirely; hard and fast, sending the eyes in your head rolling backward into your skull with a f-fuck dripping from your lips.
Everything is so different. Usually, you breathe so deeply into each other’s bodies, connecting your lips whenever the other is about to give away what the two of you are doing to the rest of the house. Your noses will bump against each other as you are impossibly close to one another, an occasional h-ah escaping your mouth or a low grunt from Javier’s, and if not even a kiss can cover up the noises, Javier’s strong hand or your own will cover your mouth as you cry through the most intense orgasms a man has ever given you.
But now. Oh God. Javier is making you sing until the house is shaking, every noise bouncing off the walls to ricochet right back to your ears. You can hear yourself sound obscene as he makes you come a second time, wanton moans falling from your slack mouth. You tremble, thighs jiggling along his sides as he drives his cock into you to prolong your pleasure.
“There you are, Christ, you are perfect,” he praises, continues to pound your oversensitive cunt, “Let it all out, baby.”
“More,” you beg, “Don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grunts.
You reach down between your legs as best as you can, already thinking of a third orgasm now that your clit is untouched. If not only to shout yourself hoarse.
Javier traps you between his arms, propping himself up on his forearms and sliding his fingers into your hair. He tugs slightly as he rolls his hips, pain erupting from your sensitive follicles and adding to your third high that is building.
You circle your clit fast, barely able to contain yourself as your cunt goes off into delicious spasm. You think you might actually start crying with how intense it feels, Javier’s cock twitching inside of you whilst he moans too. He buries his face in your shoulder.
“Don’t pull out,” you gasp up at the ceiling, nails creating little crescent marks on the muscles of his broad shoulder, “Javi, oh fuck, come in me. Don’t pull out. Pleasepleaseplease.”
The comment makes Javier pull back a little, raising himself on his elbow to look down at you. His fingers are still in your hair, an occasional moan tumbles out of his mouth as he continues reaching deep inside of you, and his eyes bore into yours. He furrows his brow from being so close, barely able to speak from how ragged his breathing is.
“What—?” He grunts. Any moment now.
“Not ovulating,” you moan back at him, tightening your legs around his waist to punctuate your want, your need. You try meeting his every thrust to encourage his own high, “Please, baby. Need you to come in me.”
“Mierda, estas una chica sucia,” his hips stutter, “You love getting filled to the brim, don’t you?”
You nod frantically.
“Just want me to keep knocking your sweet cunt up, huh?” He moans.
“Yes. Whole fucking football team.”
“C’mere,” he catches your mouth in a heated kiss, nodding slightly, but it turns messy as soon as he gets to orgasm. He whimpers into your mouth when he is just on the brink, and then he gasps as the first rope of come starts to fill you. You let out a big sigh against his mouth for show, taking everything he has to give you whilst he shudders in your arms.
It takes a moment to calm down. Your arms rest beside your head and your eyes close, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Above you, Javier hisses when he pulls out of you and you can immediately feel his come dripping out of you.
Javier kisses your exposed chest. He slides his hands up your forearms to eventually hold each of your hands, flopping down onto you again.
“Ice water,” you say after a while of laying together like this.
“Hm?” He squeezes your hands.
“Go get some ice water, your wife is boiling.”
“Fine,” he groans.
When he comes back, he has also brought a towel and you spend the rest of the afternoon trailing ice cubes across your warm skin after cleaning yourself up. It’ll be easier to work in the colder evening sun anyway.
.
.
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#pedro pascal characters#javi pena#javier pena one shot#javier pena x reader#javier pena smut#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena imagine#javier pena fic#javier pena narcos#javi peña#javier peña#javier pena x you#my writing#husband!javi#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfiction
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OH CHRISTMAS TREE — JAMIE DRYSDALE
jamie drysdale x fem!reader
12 DAYS OF KINKMAS
summary: in which y/n is decorating the christmas tree with her best friend and comes to terms with some deeper feelings
warnings: NSFW CONTENT, fingering, p in v, praise, dirty talk, i think that’s all?. (3k words)
notes: welcome to day 3 of the 12 days of kinkmas! please enjoy some soft friends-to-lovers with JD!
p.s. i wrote this prior to us learning that Jamie and Trevor no longer live together, so let’s just pretend they still do for the sake of the fic
“do you think Trevor is gonna come home tonight?”
my best friend shakes his head at my question, handing me another ornament from the brand new package we bought at the store today.
“definitely not.” he chuckles, “when he goes over to her house for a hang out, he never comes back until the next day.”
Jamie uses air quotations around the words ‘hang out’, which makes me cringe, squeezing my eyes shut as though it’ll help clear my thoughts of Trevor having sex.
“oh, i did not need to imagine that.” he cackles when he sees my horrified expression, nearly doubling over in laughter.
my hand finds its way to his shoulder, slapping against his hoodie covered body.
“you asked!” he shrugs, “i didn’t think you’d picture it!”
“my mind wanders!” i defend myself, elbowing him in the arm as he stands completely upright again. “just gimme the last ornament.”
he finally sobers up, handing me the final ornament and allowing me to hang it on the tree before we step back to survey it.
“we still need to do the topper.” he concludes and i nod, stepping over to the plastic bags on the coffee table.
i rummage through them, my hunt ending when i finally spot the sparkly tree topper. walking over, i strain onto my tiptoes, flexing my arm as far as i can reach to try and place the decoration, but i still come up short.
“let me help.” Jamie gruffs, and i drop back down onto flat feet, expecting him to place the topper himself.
but instead, he stands behind me, his hands coming up to grip my jean clad hips, and lifts me up. taking me by surprise, i quickly place the topper on the christmas tree.
“is it straight?” i ask, peering down in await of his approval, just in time to watch him drag his eyes away from my ass.
was he checking me out?
“yeah, looks good.” i have to bite my lip to stifle a laugh, my mind immediately drifting, wondering if he was talking about the tree or my butt.
he slowly lowers me, my body sliding through his loosened grasp, and as my feet begin to reach the floor, his hands slip up the hem of my sweater. his chilled touch against the heated skin of my abdomen sending goosebumps along my body, butterflies erupting in my stomach.
Jamie tenses, his hands lingering even after my feet are flat against the hardwood, and a light shiver wracks my body.
i like it.
i mean, i know i’ve always tiptoed the line between platonic and romantic feelings with Jamie. even when we first met, i had hoped we would be something more. but then we became best friends, and i never thought there was any chance of us becoming anything else. so i locked those feelings away, living in quiet delusion that they never existed. but now i’m forced to face them again; forced to come to terms with the fact that they’re still there, and i still want more with him.
i turn my head, glancing over my shoulder and locking eyes with my best friend. and suddenly, it’s like i can see into his mind, reading him like an open book.
he likes it too.
i blink and all too quickly, Jamie is dropping his hands, stepping back hurriedly.
“sorry.” he mutters, casting me a small yet forced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
i turn to face him, fighting the urge to pull him back to me.
“there’s no need to apologize.” i can only hope that i’m accurately conveying my underlying feelings. that he understands that i mean my words and also that they hold a deeper meaning than just dismissing his apology.
“there’s not?” his eyebrow raises, his hand flexing in front of him as though in a mental battle with himself; whether or not he should touch me again.
my head shakes slowly and i step closer, gazing up through my lashes to meet his eyes. my hand wraps around his wrist, scanning his face to gauge his reactions and emotions as i guide his touch back underneath my sweater and onto my waist.
his fingertips lightly skim my flesh, his sight cautiously flickering between my eyes and my lips. he must find what he’s searching for, because within a moment, his palm is pressed flat to my body, his fingers curling around my waist as he draws me even closer to him. our bodies are mere inches away from each other now, toeing the line between friendly and loving.
“do you…?” he trails off but he doesn’t have to finish his sentence in order for me to understand his meaning. i hum in agreement.
“do you…?” i repeat, my vocal inflection rising as i trail off; a question of my own, not ready to make the final jump unless i know for sure.
Jamie groans, finally pulling me flush against him, “god, yes.”
my best friend wastes no time in crashing his lips upon mine, his free hand tangling in my hair to tilt my head back.
a quiet moan travels up my throat, blocked by our locked lips which leave no choice but to vibrate against them.
he pulls away just slightly and i instinctively chase after him for a second.
“how long have you felt this way?” he whispers against me, simultaneously walking backwards, pulling me with him until my knees are resting on either side of him on the couch.
“since we met.” my confession is breathy and rushed, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on mine again. “i thought i would get over it- that you didn’t see me like that.”
“fuck, i saw you like that.” he sounds pained, his grip tightening on my hips to keep me in place as i attempt to roll them against his. “of course i saw you like that.
“you’re beautiful, and smart, and kind. fuck, how could i not see you as more when you’re literally my dream girl? i never wanted to be just friends with you.”
i whimper at his words as he connects his mouth to my neck, pressing a trail of open mouthed kisses from my collarbone to my jawline.
“the amount of time we’ve wasted-” i’m cut off as he rolls his hips up to meet mine, a broken moan drawn from my lips at the feeling.
“shhh, don’t think about that.” he mutters against my skin, “we know now.”
his grip on my hips loosens as he guides them down to meet his. his lips finally meet mine again, suckling on my bottom lip as i sigh in pleasure.
“bed.” i huff as he pulls away. “let’s go to your bed.”
his arms encircle my waist, holding me to him as he rises to his feet, allowing me to lock my legs around him.
he’s efficient in making his way to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us and dropping me onto his mattress.
“are you sure?” his blue eyes gaze into mine; swimming with concern.
i nod frantically, my fingers coiling through his belt loops to tug him back to me, “absolutely.”
he whines lowly, cupping my face gingerly with his hands.
“you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted this.”
he bends forward to kiss my lips, kneeling down on the bed between my spread legs.
the kiss quickly develops back into something lustful and intense, my hands shaking with pent up desire as they clutch at the hem of his shirt. i play with it, subtly letting him know that i want it off, but he just chuckles against my lips.
“use your words, pretty girl.”
i mewl at his remark and the way his swollen lips brush against mine.
“off, please.” i whisper through panted breaths. “i don’t want anything between us.”
he backs away, maintaining eye contact as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head, drawing the t-shirt underneath with it. i bite at the inside of my bottom lip, taking the chance to memorize every detail of his torso.
every freckle, every curve, every hair or birthmark being lasered into my brain.
he’s so perfect.
his nimble fingers drop to the button of his jeans, unfastening them and pulling them down until he’s left in nothing but his boxer briefs. his half-hardened cock bulges through his boxers, and the sight has me grinding down into the mattress.
he’s gonna ruin me.
“your turn, sweetheart.” he gives me barely any chance to do the work myself, his hands pulling my sweater over my head.
i push my staticky hair over my shoulder, lifting my hips and allowing him to pull my jeans off of my legs.
i’m sat clad in a black bra and mismatch panties, but under his gaze, i find no reason to be embarrassed that i’m not wearing something sexier.
“beautiful.” he murmurs, as though not telling me, but acknowledging it to himself.
i scoot further up the mattress, allowing him the space to crawl to me. his hands and knees sink into the soft surface as he comes to hover above me, capturing my lips with his.
one hand steadies himself as the other explores my body, grazing over my breasts as it runs down my chest. my body shudders in response and i can feel him smirk into the kiss, his thumb rubbing over the padding that covers my peaked nipples.
i yearn to feel his skin against mine, the heat of our bodies mingling; pushing me to arch my back as i slide my hands underneath to unclasp my bra.
he draws back as i slide the straps down my arms before flinging the garment onto the floor.
my nipples pebble against the frigid air, goosebumps littering my body, and i breathe heavily under Jamie’s stare, mentally urging him to do something.
“you’re fucking perfect.” he growls, dipping down to latch onto my breast. his lips close around the stiffened bud, his warm tongue circling as he sucks, and a cry of pleasure echoes off the walls as my head tips back, burrowing further into the pillow behind me.
“Jamie.” my back arches toward him, desperate underneath his touch.
he pulls away with a wet pop, kissing across my sternum and over to the other side while his fingers come to pinch and pull at the nipple he just abandoned.
“i need you.” i breathe out, voice cracking as my hands bury into his hair, pulling him back up to look at me.
“yeah?” he teases. his touch slides down my abdomen until he reaches to waistband of my panties, and as soon as i nod in permission, his fingers are slipping past the elastic band; dipping low into my wetness.
my eyes roll back as he glides his middle finger through my folds, using my slick as lubricant to circle my swollen clit.
“so wet for me.” he groans, his face burying in my neck as his lip find their place against my throat once more. “i could slide into you right now, don’t even need any foreplay.”
i moan, my hips rolling against him as he slips one finger into me, his thumb replacing to continue the contact against my clit.
“but i’m still gonna make you come on my fingers.” he states, curling the finger inside me to push against the spongey spot that makes my toes curl. “then i’m gonna make you scream on my cock. gonna fuck you like you deserve.”
he slips a seconds finger into me, providing me with the familiar pleasurable stretch as the ever growing knot in my stomach tightens further and further.
“Jamie, i’m gonna-” i can’t even finish my sentence, my jaw dropping slack as he finds the sweet spot just behind my ear.
“you gonna make a mess on my fingers?” my abdomen tightens as i clench around his fingers, my eyes squeezing shut as i whimper his name. “taking ‘em so well, like such a good girl.”
and just like that, the knot snaps, his fingers continuing their pace as he rides out my orgasm.
he pulls his head back, watching as my face scrunches in satisfaction, my breath catching in my throat as my hips stutter.
“so pretty when you come for me.” he mumbles, pulling his fingers out of my panties as i come down from my high.
my eyes flutter open, my blurry vision focusing as i watch him lick his fingers clean of my release.
my hands fly down to the waistband of his boxers, tugging recklessly.
“please.” i cry and he smiles sultrily, knocking my hands away in order to replace them with his own.
he pushes his boxers down, kicking them off his legs and the bed. his erection presses between us, his tip red and glistening with precum.
his fingers hook into the sides of my panties, pulling them down my legs and tossing them to the side.
“i need you.” i purr, my hand wrapping around his base and causing a shiver to wrack his body.
he moans, leaning over to rummage in his bedside table as i slowly pump his length. the foil packet in his hand is ripped open with his teeth before he shoves my hand away, rolling the condom down his shaft.
my legs spread even wider as he positions himself between them, sliding his cock through my wetness.
my body convulses slightly as his tip drags across my sensitive clit; and at my reaction, he smirks, repeating his actions and making me whimper.
“please,” i beg, “don’t tease me.”
he enters me with shallow strokes, taking his time to make sure i’m throughly stretched out and ready for him.
my legs clamp around his waist, my hips rolling up to meet his thrusts.
“so tight,” he sighs, his head tipping back as i bite my lip to hold in my sounds. “like you were made for me.”
as soon as he’s completely inside me, he pulls almost entirely out before pumping back in, his hand sprawling across my lower stomach to apply a light pressure.
“Jamie!” i squeak as his tip continues to hit against my g-spot with each thrust, my hands flying up to clutch at his back.
my nails dig into his skin, surely leaving crescent indentations in his pale skin.
“that’s right, pretty girl.” his voice is tight and strained, barely heard over the squelching sounds of his dick inside of my wet pussy. “scream my name.”
with each roll of his hips, his pelvis brushes against my puffy clit, my body shaking with pleasure as he fucks into me.
“feels so good.” i shudder out, craning my neck to pepper kisses against his shoulder and throat. “don’t stop.”
his pace quickens, and after my first release, my second is rapidly approaching, the pressure building in my stomach.
“fuck, i’m not gonna last.” he gruffs out, his hand slipping down from my stomach to my clit, rubbing in figure eights.
“i’m so close.” i tell him breathily, my toes curling as i clench around him.
“shit, shit, shit.” his hips stutter, his thrusts growing faster and sloppier as he chases his high.
“Jamie!” my back arches, holding my breath as my legs begin to shake around him, the pressure in my abdomen quickly releasing as i come around his cock.
my vision goes white behind my eyelids while he curses, spilling out into the condom as he continues to fuck me through our releases.
“you’re fucking perfect.” he grumbles, his weight dropping onto me as we both come down from our orgasms.
the room is silent besides the sound of our heavy breaths, and we lay there for a moment in quiet bliss.
“i love the way you whimper my name from your pretty little lips when you come.” he breaks the silence, rolling off of me.
a hiss leaves my lips as he slides out of me, sensitivity in overdrive after two orgasms.
“i love you.” i whisper, turning my head to gauge his reaction at my admission.
a warm smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparking with joy as he leans in to kiss me, “i love you too.”
unlike the last, this kiss is gentle and sweet, dripping with our aforementioned love, rather than lust.
“let’s clean you up.” he murmurs, rising from the bed.
he pulls his boxers back on, helping me into his t-shirt before he retreats from the room. when he reappears, he holds a wet washcloth.
kneeling between my spread legs, he swipes the washcloth through my folds, cleaning me of my own cum, and my hips buck up at the sensation against my overworked clit. he chuckles at my involuntary reaction, setting the washcloth in his hamper before helping me back into a clean pair of his boxers.
i stand to the side, my arms hugging my body as he changes his sheets, throwing the old ones in the washer and replacing them with fresh powder blue ones.
it’s only seven in the evening, but exhaustion plagues my body, forcing out a yawn, and he peers down at me with loving eyes.
“nap time?” he questions and i nod sleepily, humming in agreement.
he guides me back to the bed, tucking me in before he climbs into his side. his arm wraps around me, pulling me against him under the blanket, and a lazy smile gathers on my face as he cuddles into me.
he presses a soft kiss to the back of my neck before burying his nose into my hair, sighing in contentment.
the room is quiet, aiding me in my efforts to fall asleep; all the way up until i hear footsteps against the wooden floors outside the bedroom, my brows furrowing at the sound.
“is that…?” my question is quickly answered when the bedroom door flies open, revealing a hyper Trevor.
“yo, Jimbo, tree looks good!” the tanned boy grins, bouncing happily in the doorway before his sights lock on his best friend and i.
his eyes grow wide, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ shape before he smirks, “FINALLY!”
#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas#jamie drysdale#jamie drysdale x reader#jamie drysdale imagine#jamie drysdale fic#jamie drysdale blurb#jamie drysdale smut#anaheim ducks#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl smut#faithlynn’s writings <3
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I Can See You | Spencer Reid
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: When Penelope's best friend comes to help out the BAU on a couple of cases, there's an immediate connection with the youngest of the team. After longing glances, soft touches and wild fantasies, the truth comes out accidentally. What is the resident genius going to do with that information?
Warnings: mention of serial killers and bombings, inappropriate thoughts
Author's note: I've wanted to write this one every single time I listened to the song but when @pastanest wrote it first, I was scared to do it too because that one is just too good (read it here)!! Anyways, hope y'all like this one, too :)
Words: 3K
Being Penelope Garcia’s best friend came with a lot of perks. Aside from it being impossible to ever be sad around her, it also came with the perk of doing the odd job at Quantico. We had met during her days as the Black Queen online and ever since, she had taught me all she knew about hacking and tech analysis. While she worked for the FBI, I worked across the yard at the Capitol as tech support.
Her job was a little more tantalizing – sometimes more traumatizing – than mine. While I simply helped the employees with their technical issues, Penelope actually helped save people.
And sometimes, she called for my help with a case whenever she figured everything would go so much faster with some helping hands and flexible fingers.
The first time she had called me on a case, I didn’t even know what I was in for. She just told me to get to Quantico as soon as I possibly could, that it was a matter of life and death. So, I packed everything up, and rushed across the street to the FBI building. I didn’t even bother to tell my boss. I was certain Penelope’s boss would vouch for me and get me out of trouble, even though I had never met him.
“Thank you so much for coming, y/n/n,” said Penelope as she took me into a hug as soon as I burst through the front doors and into the hallway.
“Penny, what’s happening? Are you okay?” I asked and held her at a short distance to inspect her for any injuries.
She waved away my question. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said and grabbed my hand to drag me towards reception where I had to register. It wasn’t until after my bag had been inspected and I passed through security that she started to explain what was happening. “We’re working on this really tough case and though my dainty fingers are quick at tip tapping away on the keyboard, I’m gonna need your genius to get me the answers twice as fast.”
On the way up to the sixth floor, she briefed me about the case, just so I was up to speed before we actually started. I was too distracted listening to her rambles that I didn’t even notice another person rushing through the hallway on our way from the elevators to her office.
My shoulder bumped into theirs, causing me to stumble ever so slightly, but firm hands on my shoulders kept me from actually falling. “Oof, sorry!” The both of us apologized at the same time.
What I didn’t expect to happen when I looked up at the person was being so taken aback by the beautiful pair of eyes that locked onto mine. The hazel orbs had tiny gold specks in them, making them look almost honey-colored.
I was so distracted by his eyes, I didn’t catch Penelope’s mischievous smirk she would only get whenever she had expertly set me up with someone when we were out at a bar or a party.
“Y/N/N, this is my wonderful colleague and resident genius, Spencer Reid. Reid, this is my almost-as-sexy-and-smart-as-me best friend, y/n y/l/n,” she introduced us as the guy – Spencer – retracted his hands from my shoulders, convinced I was steady enough on my feet.
He offered me a smile that nearly wiped me off my feet again. “Hi, nice to meet you.”
My lips curled into a smile that mirrored his. He didn’t offer his hand to shake, so I decided not to offer mine, either. “Ditto, Spencer,” I said instead, unable to tear my eyes away from his.
“Okay,” Penelope then interrupted, “Enough chit-chat. We gotta go!” As I managed a quick wave at Spencer, my best friend pulled me along to her office where we settled behind her computer screens. While she explained how her system worked, my mind involuntarily drifted off to the disarming genius I met in the hallway.
For hours, Penelope and I worked on the case together, taking turns in getting drinks and food to keep us nutritioned. We were discussing a list of potential UnSubs after we had finished our lunch and I was chewing on the straw of my Sprite when Spencer burst into the room.
“Garcia, y/l/n, I’ve got something to narrow the search,” he said, causing my heart to flutter at how my last name sounded from his lips. He leaned between us, placing a piece of paper on the desk. His stomach was pressed against my shoulder whilst his arm brushed mine.
A chill ran down my spine, but I remained poised, trying to be professional. “Those are the places he went to in the last twenty-four hours?” I asked, deducting the theory from the map in front of me.
Spencer had drawn lines across the map, connecting at least five dots. “Uh-huh,” he hummed, then leaned in closer, his face right next to mine. “We were able to get these locations from the GPS of the rental car he used and ditched at the last murder site.”
His breath felt hot against my skin, but it didn’t stop me from starting to tap away on the keyboard, trying to find any CCTV footage from any of the establishments in the neighborhood of those locations. Within seconds, I’d found some footage from a service station where the UnSub was seen leaving the shop.
“Was this what you needed?” I asked sassily and turned my head to look at him. He was a lot closer than I anticipated him to be, my nose nearly grazed his cheek. Even up close he was pretty.
He stood up straight again, much to my dismay, and offered me a shy smile. “Only if you can give me a name, too,” he told me.
Raising my eyebrows challengingly, I turned back to the computer and ran the footage through Penelope’s software. Within seconds, I found a name, his age and address, which was someone on the list of suspects Penelope and I had been looking at for the past ten minutes.
“Can you send that to the team?” he asked as he took out his phone, already dialing one of the team’s numbers.
“Already did, pretty boy,” I smirked and watched as he walked away with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown over his shoulder towards us. When I turned back to Penelope, she looked at me with that teasing look she would only ever give me when she was about to give me shit. “What?” I asked.
“Nothing,” she sang, though her face said something else entirely.
I didn’t feel like getting into it. It wasn’t like I was going to see Spencer again. This was a one-time thing. Or at least, that was what I thought. It wasn’t until Penelope called me two weeks later with the same request. Even then I managed to stay somewhat professional around Spencer.
But they didn’t leave it at two times. At least five more cases, I was asked to help Penelope out on. It didn’t bother me, at all. In fact, I actually enjoyed helping the BAU team on their cases. It gave me the opportunity to work together with my very best friend as well as secretly flirt with the young doctor. And, you know, learn something new and everything.
Every time I saw him, I could just imagine him pushing me against a wall and kissing me senseless. Every brush of the arm, every longing gaze we directed to one another. It all drove me completely insane, but there was not much I could do about it but sit back and act as professional as I possibly could.
When we finished case number five, I was packing up my stuff and exited Penelope’s lair. My mind was still racing with the images I had seen about this gruesome case, but all of it seemingly cleared up when my eyes landed on the person standing at the very end of the hallway.
“Oh, hi, Spencer,” I greeted with a smile as I approached him.
He offered me that same knee-buckling smile. “Hi, y/n. I wanted to-uh, I wanted to check up on you. See if you were doing all right?”
I wanted to push him against the wall and kiss his jaw. That man was the most considerate person alive and it was absolutely turning me on. Coughing, I recomposed myself. I couldn’t act upon these feelings building inside of me.
“I am,” I said. “Though, I got to admit, this last case was a whole lot more brutal than the previous ones I helped on. It’s gonna haunt me for days.” I let out a chuckle, taking my eyes off him for a second.
Spencer hummed. “Yeah, it, uh, it takes a while to get used to it.”
“Do you ever get used to that?”
Chuckling, Spencer shook his head. “No, not really…”
A chuckle rolled off my lips too and for a moment, the two of us fell silent. It was a comfortable silence with the two of us just gazing into each other’s eyes as if we were under a spell. I knew that if I didn’t break eye contact, I would actually kiss him.
“I, uh, I’m gonna go home,” I told him and finally tore my gaze off him.
“Right,” he mumbled and turned towards the elevator. “You-uh, you want me to walk you to your car?”
Eyes widening, I almost immediately let out a sharp, “No!” The moment he and I would’ve stepped out together, I would’ve jumped his bones. I coughed to recompose myself again. “No, I’m okay,” I repeated, softer this time.
“Oh, okay,” Spencer nodded and stepped aside. “Well, I’ll, uh… I’ll see you another time then?”
I offered him a smile. “Yeah, see you next time.”
From the second I left the BAU, Spencer occupied my mind for the foreseeable future. Every corner I turned, every meal I had, every day I worked at my regular day job at the Capitol,... Spencer had taken over my mind and every fiber of my being.
It had been a good week since I had last seen the BAU team, since I had last spoken to Spencer. I couldn’t focus at all. He was all I could think about to the point where I couldn’t even properly function. I had to do something about it. Even if it was just getting that feeling of frustration off my chest.
That was why I had marched my way over to the BAU, went through the protocol at FBI security and clipped on my Visitor’s badge before trudging down to Penelope’s lair where I burst through the door without even knocking. She had given me the code to get in, so I didn’t have to knock.
“Y/N? What are you–”
I ignored her and plopped down on the sofa with a groan. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Penny,” I told her defeatedly, resting my head back against the back of the sofa and looking up at the ceiling.
“About what?” she asked.
“Spencer, of course.” I didn’t catch Penelope’s wide-eyed look as I continued my tirade. “Unfortunately, I need him in a way that will defy the laws of space and time and set feminism back seventy years.” Rubbing my hands over my face, I rolled my head back to look at my best friend, who hadn’t given her unsolicited opinion immediately like she always did.
That was when I saw the look of horror on her face. “Sugar plum,” she started, “Don’t be mad but…” My eyes landed on the device with the blinking red light behind her. She had been on a call and I could all but guess who was on that call.
“No,” I muttered, my heart plummeting to my stomach and my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Don’t tell me –”
Penelope pressed a button, putting her coworkers on speaker rather than through her headset. All I could hear was Derek’s and Emily’s giggles. “Wow, y/n,” came JJ’s voice, a bemused lilt in her tone. “I did not expect that coming from you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut before rushing forward and pressing what I thought to be the mute button. “Why didn’t you mute us as soon as I came in?” I asked before starting to pace the length of the room, but didn’t give Penelope the chance to answer. “Now everyone knows and to make it all worse – Spencer now knows.”
“Oh, mama, it’s not like we didn’t already know,” came Morgan’s voice through hiccups of laughter.
“PENELOPE!” I screeched, realizing I hadn’t pressed the right button.
With a simple shrug, Penelope turned to me. “Maybe it’s not so bad?” she tried and I just groaned in frustration before turning on my heel and leaving her lair. Now I had to debate whether to wait for Spencer to come back and explain everything to him or to just go home and never show my face here again.
There wasn’t much of a chance for me to think about it because the team quickly filed back into the offices. As soon as my eyes landed on Spencer, I froze. Our eyes met and I could tell he wanted to tell me something, but there was a serial bomber to catch. Rather than leaving and going home, I decided to stick around and help Penelope.
But before I could head over to Penelope’s lair, it was impossible to avoid the other’s relentless comments. Through a sea of giggles and quoting of what I had said to Penelope in confidence, I made my way through the bullpen, rolling my eyes.
“I’m gonna get a cup of tea,” I told Penelope, getting up from my seat in her lair. “You want one?”
“Yes, please, sugar,” she answered without taking her eyes off her screen.
With a chuckle, I left the office and made my way to the break room where I put on the kettle for two cups of tea. While I busied myself picking out a flavor, my mind drifted off to what I could possibly say to Spencer if I ever got the chance.
“Oh,” I heard the mumble behind me and when I turned around, I found Spencer in the doorway. “Hi.” He smiled a little awkwardly before making his way to the coffee pot.
I returned the gesture. “Hi.”
My eyes were trained on him while he poured the coffee and scribbled something down on a notepad beside him. My mind filtered through every possible word combination possible. I was so distracted, the click of the kettle turning off startled me.
As I poured the hot water into two cups, Spencer placed a folded piece of paper in front of me on the counter and scurried away before I could possibly react. Curiosity rising within me, I unfolded the piece of paper, only to find “Meet me tonight” written in his scrawny handwriting.
“That’s not vague at all,” I scoffed before pocketing it and continuing making the tea. Once the teabags were in, I made my way back to Penelope’s office, but not without one last glance at Spencer in the bullpen. Together with Derek and Emily, he was bent over a file on Emily’s desk.
He seemingly felt my eyes on him as he, too, looked at me. Feeling my cheeks heat up underneath his gaze, I quickly looked away and rushed towards my best friend. I leaned my back against the door as soon as I shut it, trying to catch my breath.
“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Penelope asked when she saw the state of me.
I chuckled and rolled my eyes, annoyed at myself that I let a man make me feel this way. “Not Spencer, unfortunately.” My best friend let out a loud cackle. “He gave me this note–” I placed her octopus mug in front of her before handing her the note.
“That’s vague,” she mumbled, her brows furrowed.
“Exactly what I thought,” I grumbled. “He was gone before I could even ask.”
Penelope tsked before patting the chair that had been mine for the last couple of weeks. With a sigh, I plopped down carefully so as to not spill my hot tea. For the next hour, I tried to focus on the case more than on Spencer and what I was going to say to him.
However, it was hard not to think about him.
So, once the case was wrapped up, I packed up my stuff and went out to the hall where Spencer had waited for me merely a week ago. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Penelope as I would be seeing her soon anyway and she knew I had to do what I had to do.
It took a couple of minutes before Spencer walked out of the bullpen, eyes focused on the phone in his hand.
“‘Meet me tonight’?” I asked, capturing his attention. His honey eyes met mine, his lips twitching into a smile. “Could you be any more vague?”
“Sorry,” he chuckled and chucked his phone into his pocket again. “I just–” he sighed, unable to finish his sentence. Another soft laugh rolled off his lips as he looked down to the squeaky-clean floor of the FBI Headquarters. He looked back up at me, his eyes tender and searching for something I didn’t even know.
“What?”
Not even bothering to answer my question, Spencer grabbed my hand and tugged me into the closest room, which happened to be the family room. As soon as the door was shut, he pushed me against the wall by kissing me, his hands on my hips to hold me in place.
“Does this set feminism back seventy years?” he asked between kisses to my lips and jaw.
My toes curled and my stomach fluttered. This was all I had been dreaming of ever since I met him that first day. I had wanted him flush against me, fingers tangling up in my hair and his tongue warm against mine.
“No,” I breathed while he worked his way down my neck in open-mouthed kisses. “But it does defy the laws of space and time.”
The words seemingly set something animalistically off in Spencer as his kisses became hungrier and his hands roamed my body in ways I had never been touched before. He gave me enough to brag to Penelope about the next day.
He gave me everything I had been dreaming of.
Everything taglist: @calamitykaty@littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeeee @unnowhatthisistbhbh
Criminal Minds Taglist: @boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks@tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds
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Third Fifth Time's A Charm
| You and Megumi have been dating for quite some time now. Almost half a year, give or take. Upsettingly enough, he has yet to say his ‘I love you's. This bugs him a bit too much so Megumi is now a man on a mission and that mission just so happens to be about confessing his love to you. Basically the four times Megumi almost dropped the “L” word and the one time that he did. I mean come on, fifth time’s a charm, right?
TW: None, I think? I wrote it with college!au in mind but can be read as just a normal jujutsu kaisen fic Just fluff after posting angst, megumi gets chased by a duck? idk what counts as a tw pls let me know if I should add anything, also actual big boy writing cus word count is 3k.
---
Crumbs, ducks and hold on a minute...
It was around October when the leaves were finally falling and the air was brisk. Megumi had decided to take you out for a mini-date before finals week whisks the both of you away, each secluded in their own world of ink and paper.
It had honestly gone mostly ok and as planned. The usual schtick, really. Compliment your pretty outfit, exchange loving banters on the way there, get to the park and enjoy your time together. Simple and easy, right?
Wrong.
Megumi and you had just finished eating the sandwiches he’s prepared for the picnic. They were wrapped so neatly in pink patterned paper that you can’t help but swoon at the time and effort it must’ve taken for him to prepare it all.
Megumi took to the toilet a bit after that, or, he planned to. What he didn’t see coming is the fact that ducks started chasing him around right as he walked past the pond. You soon learned that they were chasing him because of the bread crumbs falling off of his jeans.
After a few bouts of running on Megumi’s part (and giggles from yours), the ducks finally stopped following him. Opting to squawk at the couple on the other side of the pond that’s actually trying to feed them crumbs and seeds.
Megumi soon found relief as he sat back down beside you still huffing and puffing from the unexpected marathon he ran. Of course, you being the compassionate girlfriend that you are, did not let him off easy. At least, not without teasing him a bit.
“You know those ducks have really good taste in men,” you quipped. A few beats of silence pass before the two of you erupt into a fit of laughter.
You were nearly in tears as you continued to giggle uncontrollably at the mental image of Megumi getting chased and flirted with by ducks. Though you probably won't find your laughing any special, Megumi found it absolutely breathtaking.
From the way your eyes brighten at the hilarious image to the sound of your held-in guffaws, Megumi just can’t get enough of it. He wants to hear it over and over again. He absolutely loves it.
And he absolutely loves you.
Wait, huh?
Watson, how do you say “I love you”?
“Finally! No more stuffy libraries and definitely no more books! I’m so happy it’s over,” you yelled as you stretched out your tired back.
Finals are over and you can now rest without worrying. However, it’s a whole other story for Megumi. He is still stressed out of his mind but not because of the reason you might think. No, he is stressed because he has yet confessed the feelings hidden deep in the recesses of his heart.
I love you.
Who knew such simple words could drive one mad. Megumi never would’ve thought the stress his feelings would bring could trump the amount of stress an exam would bring but he supposes that he can only be so many times.
Megumi has decided that maybe he should tell you the three words that have been plaguing his mind. So a few days after some much-needed rest, Megumi proposes a little trip to the art museum. Who were you to refuse such a sweet request?
Dressed in his most academic-looking attire, Megumi readies himself for his little confession, going so far as to script it.
Yes, today he will confess!
Today he did not confess.
It really was the perfect moment. Megumi feels absolutely horrible for letting such perfect timing pass him by but nothing could be done about it now.
The perfect timing came by when you were nearing the end of the date. It was a really fun date, possibly one of the best ones so far! Megumi had shown you around the museum, giving fun tidbits of information on each art he sees. You were about to point out how knowledgeable your boyfriend was before it finally clicked.
“Ah! My dear Watson, I think I’ve solved the mystery. It turns out the Duke of Information, Megumi Noritoshi, has done ample research before this date! Proof in the pudding, Watson, look at his palms,” you teased as you took his hands into yours and pushed back his sweater sleeves to see smeared notes on his earlier “fun facts”.
Megumi’s face turned pink as he flushed at your exposing of his secret. Muttering a small, “Blimey, I’ve been caught!” in response to your little skit.
Seeing him blush and flustered has you grinning (not that anyone could blame you, it really is a cute sight). Taking your chance, you decide to tease him a bit more. Opting for light nudges of your elbow and soft kisses all over his face. This, of course, did nothing to ease the red spilling all over his cheeks. If anything it painted more colors on his face.
Once the teasing died down, you decided to maybe be a bit more heartfelt. After all, he did prepare for your date and put in so much effort to learn these facts and information.
“I might not say this enough but I absolutely appreciate you putting this much effort into our dates… maybe I have not been vocal enough about these things but I hope you know I really do appreciate you doing this and… I love you,” you mumbled a tad bit quieter than you usually would. You’re even caught sporting a light blush of your own despite you trying your best to keep a nonchalant front. This isn’t your first time telling him you love him but, still, being so heartfelt like this has you blushing.
Megumi smiled at his usually unbothered girlfriend being so, well, bothered.
Wrapping his hands around your waist, he goes to give you a small peck on the crown of your head before leaning in a bit more to whisper his confession.
I love you!
Yet the words did not seem to tumble out. Although a bit disappointed in his lack of confidence, Megumi recovered quickly and instead leaned in for a sweet kiss.
I wonder if fishes have confessions too?
“Megumi look! They’re so pretty,” you exclaimed excitedly as you pointed at a jellyfish swimming past. Megumi nods in agreement though he is honestly paying more attention to you than the exhibit.
Megumi has taken it upon himself to set up another good date to confess on. Truth be told, he’s had far too many nightmare-ish thoughts about his recent failures in confessing and how he’ll never be able to say it. So, to take action, Megumi decides to take you on another date. This time he decided that maybe visiting an aquarium would be fun!
He is sorely mistaken, unfortunately.
As you continue to walk through the exhibit, you fail to notice Megumi lagging a bit behind you in the aquarium tunnel. Your attention was so fixated by the fishes swimming over your head and on each of your sides, that you missed the sight of your boyfriend darkly muttering (and struggling) on his confession script.
Or so he thought...
“Honestly, why can’t I just be a fish-”
“Why would you want to be a fish though?” you asked as you leaned in towards him.
Megumi’s eyes widen in surprise at your sudden intrusion. Megumi supposes that he’s been too lost to the world. He shook his head and just muttered a quiet “never mind”.
The day continued as you enjoyed your day. You feast your eyes on magnificent sea creatures both great and small; you can’t help but awe at them as a child would. Not that Megumi minded, he thinks you look absolutely adorable when you coo at the sharks or clap at the seals when they would do a trick. However, Megumi couldn’t say he’s enjoying today as much because he continued to struggle with his little confession script, either chickening out at the last minute or completely missing the perfect timing.
By the end of the day, Megumi decided enough is enough. Under the dim lights of the empty “deep sea” sector of the zoo, Megumi closed his eyes and steeled himself. Summoning every bit of courage he had within him, he blurted out his confession. It was a bit aggressive and loud, perhaps even a bit rushed.
But he did it-
-not.
Megumi opened his eyes, to be greeted not by your soft smile. It wasn’t even your frown. Instead, he was greeted by a fish staring directly at him through the aquarium glass. It seems to be mocking him, almost. And as for you, you were already at the other side of the area, lining up to pay for a souvenir that caught your eyes.
Ugh, why can’t he just be a fish and blow bubbles at you to show his love?
Wine is a poetic mood-setter, right?
Although tired and defeated by his numerous failed attempts, Megumi is not one to give up. This is especially true when it comes to you. So, if one plan fails then best be known he is already running back to the drawing board to come up with a new one.
This time around Megumi decided to pull up on all the stops. Sparing no expense, he reserved a table at one of the city’s most high-end restaurants. I mean what could be more romantic than a late-night wine-and-dine?
To Megumi it’s not the pricey menus that are troubling, nor is it the number of strings he had to pull to get the reservation. Nope. What’s troubling him is the confession he is secretly building up to. You see, it’s been a good handful of months since Megumi came to the realization that he absolutely adores you.
He loves you.
Yet, somehow, saying it out loud is a whole different league than thinking and coming to terms with it. Something about admitting it and posing vulnerable seems so jarring to him. Of course, you’ve never given him any reason to fear being honest with you. He supposes that if anything were to cause him to be this certain way, then it’s probably the lack of touchy-feely emotions in his childhood. That aside, Megumi is still as determined as ever to tell you that he loves you. This brings us to the current situation.
Megumi is seated opposite of you, decked in his slickest suit and tie. You had admitted that he looks ridiculously good in his outfit before the dinner (he blushes at the comment). Naturally, you were also in a rather stunning number yourself, with the scandalous-looking outfit only you could possibly pull off.
As much as Megumi would love to just admire you and enjoy the amazing atmosphere, he has other things currently occupying his head. At first glance, you might’ve thought that he was flustered by your choice of outfit for the night if you didn’t know any better. This is, of course, one of the reasons why Megumi was a bit dazed but sadly that’s not the only reason why.
You didn’t really connect the dots right away. There are a bunch of little crumbs and pieces that could’ve contributed to Megumi’s flustered and jumpy attitude in this particular evening but nothing defining.
The evening progressed and more telltale signs showed themselves to you. You could honestly write a meter-long list but to keep it concise, the things you have noticed include Megumi’s inability to look you directly in the eye, the rather incessant twiddling of his thumbs, the stutter that accompanied his usually leveled voice, and finally (and the most telling) is his avoidance of the word “love”.
Of course, it could all be a coincidence but you think not. Although you didn’t do much to garner his “suspicion”, you’re not daft nor were you ignorant. You knew of his struggles in dropping a particular “L” word. You had honestly known for a while. It’s not that you were a psychic or anything of that sort, it was actually because Megumi had not been the most secretive of his plans. You suppose he intended for it to be a “hush-hush” plan but unfortunately for Megumi, he had a tendency to think out loud when stressed.
Though you were originally planning to let Megumi off the hook and let him figure things out on his own, you decided that leaving him to wallow on his own is doing more harm than good. So when Megumi choked rather aggressively at his pasta when you said the word “love”, you chose to bring up the topic.
“So, when are you gonna tell me what’s been cooking up in that head of yours… hmm?”
Megumi’s eyes widened at the question you’ve just asked, though it seems more like a prompt than a question. Megumi looked down to his lap for a second before facing you again, this time sporting an embarrassed flush on his cheeks.
Megumi struggled to confess before letting out a defeated sigh and a small apology. This caused you to shake your head, not in a dismissive way but in a way to tell him that there’s nothing to be sorry for.
“Megumi, I know you know I know so I’ll just say it outright,” you huffed before continuing, “I love you’s aren’t something you can or should force out. I’ve said it to you on countless accounts because it comes naturally to me, love. I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you feel cornered into saying it but please know that I don’t mind you taking your time, ok?”
Your little speech was met with a relieved sigh and soon followed by a laugh. You look up to see Megumi’s genuine grin in place, you can’t help but smile at the endearing sight.
“Ahh, I should’ve known not to stress over these kinds of things when it’s with you, huh? Thanks. I’ll definitely take my time with it.”
You nodded in agreement at his newfound determination. As much as you wanted to hear those three words tumble out of his lips and uttered to you, you knew better than to rush him into it. And besides, hearing it in full sincerity will definitely be better than hearing a rushed one. With all that said, you and Megumi enjoyed the rest of the evening with wine glasses raised and the air filled with happy chatters and laughs.
And I thought it was difficult, huh?
A streak of light shone through the gaps in the curtains, making it known to you that it is time to get up already. Or, at least, it would be time to get up had it been a weekday. Thankfully, however, it is the weekend so you can take your time in getting up. While your boyfriend slept soundly beside you, his hand draped loosely over your figure, you can’t help but admire his features. As you did so, thoughts on what happened a while back popped into your head.
It’s been a few months since your last dinner date with Megumi and things have calmed down quite a bit. Although Megumi still feels a twinge of guilt from his lack of response whenever you whisper an “I love you”, he does remember your take on this situation, and those few words you spared have done immense work in calming him down.
As you continue to reminisce on the events that have transpired in the last few months, you failed to notice Megumi stirring awake beside you. You only notice that he’s awake when he’s poking your cheek, asking, no, demanding petulantly for his morning kisses.
Deciding to tease him a bit while he’s still in his morning daze, you uttered, “Sorry, love. Morning breath.” You went as far as sniffing at his general direction and fanning your hands over your nose and scrunched your nose up in fake disgust.
Still in a sleepy stupor, Megumi pouts at you and goes to get out of bed. You decide to let your curiosity win and end up following your boyfriend to the bathroom, the cold linoleum tiles doing wonders in waking the two of you up immediately.
Though he is now much more awake now than a few minutes ago, it didn’t dampen his pout one bit. With the handle of his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, Megumi babbled on about how his day is now ruined because you wouldn’t let him start it off with a kiss. You only giggled in response, your own toothbrush poking out of your lips.
Being the menace that you are, you decided to playfully smear Megumi’s face with some toothpaste foam. One thing led to another and soon you two are on the bathroom floor laughing aloud. Somehow his laugh and expressions egged yours on and yours did his which caused a new bout of laughter to erupt every time you’d both fall silent. It went on like this for quite some time but neither of you minded it one bit.
Now that the laughter has died down a bit, you both exchanged mini banters here and there, still seated on the floor with both your shoulders touching; with toothpaste in your hair and on his cheek. As you giggled at a particular joke Megumi muttered, he felt that odd feeling in his heart again, just like the time in the park and all those other dates he stressed over but this time, before he could stop it, he whispered…
“I love you.”
Your laughter immediately ceased only to be replaced by the happiest grin you’ve ever mustered. With new buzzing energy coursing through you, you tackled Megumi into a hug which effectively knocked the two of you down to the ground but neither you nor Megumi minded.
With his newfound confidence, Megumi repeated the foreign sentence over and over again as if he’s testing it out. He finds that he likes saying it.
He likes it because your smile widens a bit more when he says it.
He likes it because you’d give him kisses whenever he says it.
And he absolutely loves it because you’d always say it back to him.
With a wobbly and lovesick grin, Megumi says it one more time for good measure.
“I love you.”
a.n. I did not really proofread this bcs I had classes today and it KO'd me :"(
Hope you liked it!
#cattlemon's writing#Megumi x reader#Megumi Fushiguro x reader#Megumi fluff#Megumi Fushiguro fluff#Megumi x you#Megumi Fushiguro x you#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you
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Another lovely year in this wonderful fandom. Here’s a little recap of how my year went:
My Writing:
Depth of Reason - Mature - 70k
How to Avoid a Scandal - Teen - 43k
Episode 3: The Diplomat, A Star Trek Redemption story - Teen - 13.5k
This list is much shorter than my list of fics written in 2022, but my fics last year were much shorter. Also, this word count is deceptive, because I wrote about 22k of Depth of Reason last year and about 20k of How to Avoid a Scandal last year as well. But! My writing goals this year were to finish these two WIPs and not take on any other projects until they were finished and I very nearly did that! Took on two projects (and more below), but I still finished these before the year finished, so pretty good!
Total words:
About 83k. Last year was more like 120k.
Other works:
Podfic of Petrichor - Teen - 34 minutes
Themes:
Finishing long works apparently! One was for my 2022 COBB and the other for my 2022 CORB. Even though these were started last year, they are the longest things I wrote since my first fic (49k) back in the second half of 2021.
Also, trying new things! Writing sci-if and recording a podfic felt very outside my wheelhouse at the time, but ultimately, I’m glad I went for it.
Top 10 fics I read in 2023:
Someone Wicked - Explicit - 60k by @artsyunderstudy
Three Months or 3,000 Miles - Gen - 3k by @larkral and art by @theimpossibledemon
Blood, Salt and Hummingbirds - Teen - 32k by @hushed-chorus
Restoration Ecology - The REmix (Baz’s version) - Explicit - 62k by @royalasstronaut
Good at Something - Explicit - 19k by @larkral
A Gift From the Propheseals - Mature - 6.5k by @skeedelvee with art by @letraspal
What Remains After the Storm - Mature - 86k by @hushed-chorus art by @erzbethluna
To Do, to Know, to Want - Mature - 8.5k by @facewithoutheart
Mishaps on Zoom - Explicit - 10k by @eelwinks
Swords Into Plowshares - Teen - 6.5k by @ileadacharmedlife
WIPs I’m excited to keep reading in 2024:
I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man - Teen, by @shrekgogurt
Hiding Out In The Open - Mature, by @cutestkilla
A Little Bit Deadly- Explicit, by @emeryhall
Basil Pitch’s Diary - Teen, by @bookish-bogwitch
Other notable fandom things:
I helped to run @carryon-reverse-bang again with @angelsfalling16 as well as helped to put on a new event this year, @caught-on-tape-fest with @cutestkilla and @sillyunicorn
I met up with fandom friends while on a trip this past summer. Making personalized friendship bracelets as gifts, doing fic readings and crafts, and putting on our own Lady Ruth style tea party were some of my fave moments <3
I did a book club style reread of some of my fave fics with friends. I hope we do a few more in 2024!
It’s safe to say I engaged with this fandom everyday of 2023. I might get quiet on the main Discord server or Tumblr, but I’m certain I read, reblogged, wrote, DMd or otherwise participated in some way, shape or form throughout the entirety of the year.
Goals for 2024:
Read more fic! This fandom has such a wealth of works, my TBR list is a mile long and isn’t organized. I’d like to formally rework my AO3 bookmarks to exclusively show recs and either utilize the Marked for Later function or make a spreadsheet or something to better organize a proper TBR list so i don’t lose track of what I want to read next. Currently, having a dozen tabs open on my phone and another dozen on my iPad doesn’t really work well. If anyone has a brilliant system you’d suggest, please enlighten me!
I also want to read all of my physical canon books this year. I’ve only ever listened to the audiobooks! I’m currently reading my anniversary edition of Fangirl. (I think this is the prettiest book I’ve ever owned.) Up next, the Fangirl Manga, followed by the trilogy and Snow for Christmas.
More fandom meet ups! Already planning for June…
I don’t have any writing plans currently, so we shall see if/what I decide to create. I have a few ideas rolling around in my head, but nothing I’ve felt urged to put down in words. I’m sure I’ll write something, I just don’t know what it’ll be yet.
#That’s a wrap!#Love being a part of this fandom#Y’all are wonderful#here’s to another great year!#fandom year in review
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Since the year is coming to an end and I'm not posting anything until January, I thought it'd be fun to do a little recap of the fics I've written and go through whatever I've managed to do this year. So, let's go!
Here's my 2024 on AO3:
This year, I've published 94,779 words. This number does not include any drafts or anything, but I know I wrote a lot of words in unpublished works too, because I've been working on some long projects. In my notes I have literal dozens of nearly finished one shots, and the plans for a work that's proving to be much harder and longer to write than Rot, which is my second longest published work right now and will be my longest published work as soon as 2025 comes, since it's less than 3k words shorter than Umbrella as of right now (wow). In my AO3 drafts alone I have a four parts work that's 24,856 words long and not yet finished, so that gives an idea.
To recap my interactions, I've gotten 31 subscription, 28 of which are on my user and not works (which is weird), 350 kudos, 109 bookmarks and 6,042 hits. And way too many comment threads because I respond to everybody because it's the best part of actually sharing what you write in my opinion. I'm pretty cool with those numbers. They're great!
Anyway, now for the 2024 podium:
My most kudo-ed work this year is:
This one might actually not be true anymore in a few hours. It has just two kudos more than my second most kudo-ed work, so this could change at any moment. I really hope this one stays first though, because I actually really like it. It's not revolutionary but it's fun, and I liked writing it a lot too. I like knowing it was appreciated, and I like knowing it's technically the most renowned thing I wrote this year.
My most read work this year is:
Makes sense that it'd be this one that garnered the most hits, since it's sort of long and finished. I don't mind it too, I liked writing The Sixth Stage. All the way through I was like "wow I'm actually kind of nailing this". It felt nice, principally after finishing Umbrella which I felt like shit about, and what feels even better is I still like it. The pacing is great, I think! Which is insane because I usually, notoriously suck at pacing. I definitely was on something though, killing off so many characters. Fun fact on this one, actually. I recently got a commenter on Wattpad (kindly) cursing me out for murdering them all, just being like "no fucking way", and that was very fun.
My favorite work I've written this year is:
I had so much fun with this character study-ish one shot, even though it sort of flopped lmao. I don't care, it was great. I really love writing Killua, he's so fun. It's a challenge but one I'm willing to take, simply because the answers come to me with difficulty, but they come naturally. Which maybe explains why they're such weird takes. Anyhow, I'd been cooking this up for so long before I shared it, and there are some cheesy things and mess ups I'd rewrite to fix, but I like keeping things as my past self had intended for them to be, so that I can admire my evolution in the future. It's gonna suck anyway, I know nothing about what I'm doing.
And, last but not least, the longest work I've written this year (and I have yet to finish it) is:
I don't know how to feel about Rot. 35,304 published words, dozens of deleted chapters, pages and pages of my school notebooks engraved with fanfiction and 49 samsung notes with thousands of words each. Pure devotion. Some chapters I love, some chapters I hate. Chapter ten is amazing and I'm so excited to share it yet chapter nine makes me want to fall asleep and never wake up. Sometimes it's the easiest thing to write, sometimes it's a genuine nightmare. Again, chapters nine and ten. I will finish it, there's no doubting that, but my plans keep changing and it's messing up my sleep schedule.
Overall, statistics always make me feel like shit. They make me feel like I haven't done enough. Take last year, for example. I made nearly 1.3K kudos last year, even though I started posting last year, which means I hadn't built an "audience" at all yet.
What taking a look back through my biggest successes of the year made me realize is that, even though I sort of suck, I'm still prouf of myself. Most of what I've mentioned here, I like. I tend to forget that and focus on the part of me that regrets numbers, and that's why this little post feels so necessary for me to make.
Of course these numbers (hit numbers and stuff) will change slightly before the end of the year, but I feel this is close enough.
Anyway. Happy new year to everyone. It's coming quick quick quick, and I need to get back to studying if I actually want a job in the future!
I might do a 2023 resume some day, just to take me back in time.
#hxh#hunter x hunter#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#ao3 writer#hxh 1999#ao3 link#ao3#ao3feed#hxh fanfic#fandom#fanfiction#writing#hxh killua#killua hunter x hunter#killugon#hxh gon#gon freecss#killua zoldyck
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Hello! Very random but I just want to tell you that you're a REALLY good writer-- just read your recent chapter of Twice The Primes AND IM HYPED UP!! I especially love Starscream's and Optimus Trion's interaction with the Primes, you wrote them so distinctively well! Goldbug's part also made me laugh XD, I literally had no faith in him when it comes to keeping Orion and Dion's designations a secret but then I was pleasantly surprised-- that was until he nearly blurted out Dion's name LMAOO.
And omgggg Pulsebeatttt! Shattered Glass! Soundwave!!! Any version of Soundwave is superior and I love love love that he's here! And he's attached to Artemis!!!! LETS GOOO. ALSO SPEAKING OF ARTEMIS-- THEIR PRIME DESIGNATIONS ARE SO GOOD!! THEY MATCH!! SUN AND MOON!! Im literally going feral about this chapter and cant stop re reading it (im not joking, this is my third read) Im so excited to see how Solaris is doing! And craving Solaris and General Megatron interactions, I can already imagine a scene where Solaris shyfully admits to not having an alt-mode and everyone is just: 🧍♂️
Anyways-- sorry for the long ask, I just needed you to know that I love love love your writing! (I've read almost all your Transformers fics, my personal fave is Twice The Primes and the reaction fic. They live rent free in my brain) I hope you have a GREAT day because you deserve it! That's all thanks!
- Taro 🍆
FPFPFPFT THANK YOU!!!! i WAS about to like, log off my computer, i'm still writing chapter 15, i'm at 1.8k words at the moment but yknow what? i can work a bit longer, get that past to like 2.5 or even 3k so i can finish writing it later
hehehe starscream and optimus trion's povs were fun to work with, especially optimus, i hope i'm conveying optimus' slow (slowish??) descent into falling in love with artemis. he already respects artemis so much and is awed by him.
golbug! the mischievous little insect (beloved) that is impulsive and selfish! yeah, he's attention seeking but he's smart enough to know that telling someone else about the primes' designation would be stupid and would reflect badly on him. even if it was his best friend, but he's still young and impulsive so he almost says dion's name anyway. still, he hast heart! he'll mellow out! eventually.
soundwave IS superior! any soundwave, we love him! i am especially attached to transformers: prime soundwave, he was the first soundwave i met AND the mech is purple, my favorite color :D i was tempted to make him the soundwave of the continuity but i decided to let PULSEBEAT have his design instead! i like green too, and sg!soundwave being attached to artemis, looking like tfp soundwave but acting different- i knew it'd be fun. especially with pax in nox's head!
hehehehe i've been waiting to reveal those names ever since i thought of them back in the single digit chapters. got inspired by solus just like in the story lmao, i went 'well, dee already has megatronus' frame, might as well have something related to solus be his designation' and from there it was the PERFECT opportunity to have nox be artemis.
SUN AND MOON DUO! MATCHING NAMES AGAIN!
*pointing at you with disbelief at the altmode bit*: YOU! HOW DID YOU PEEK INTO MY DRAFTS?! CAN YOU READ MINDS?!
lmao yeah
anyway! NO THANK YOU FOR THE LONG COMMENT! i dont get those often, its been way too long since i had one and i think this is the first long one for transformers! and aww thanks! i hope you stick around for MORE transformers fics! because i have no idea when ill be out of this pit that is the transformers fandom! it's been almost four?? five months??? and counting and i am still here. will be for a while i'm pretty sure!
question, i made a post about a fic of hot rod having tanjiro's memories and turning it into a hot rod harem fic, any thoughts?? (its not gonna happen for a while but its in my head persistently)
im glad youre enjoying Twice The Primes and my other fics! many apologies though because both other fics are p much on haitus since all my focus is on Twice The Primes, i haven't even touched my unfinished draft for the next part of Universal Observations in a while TuT
TTP is just too fun yknow??? and im at a really good bit too!!
i hope YOU have a great day because this question definitely made mine! don't apologize for the long question! i answered it in a long post lol
anyway back to writing TTP!
#ask#transformers#twice the primes#long post#long answer#twice the primes is just so much fun#that i cant focus on other fics#i mean i can still fantasize about them#ESPECIALLY the hot rod idea#goddamn hot rod idea#youre haunting me hot rod ive been reading more and more fics about you
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Fanfic Writer Interview
tagged by the delightful @itcanbepalped 💚
What fandoms do you write in?
bandom rpf was my stomping ground for many, many years but while i still potter around there, my inspiration lies heavily in stranger things these days! occasionally another tv show does sneak its way in but it's a rare occurrence.
How many words did you publish in 2024?
43,194! i was scared to check; definitely not as much as i could've written, i had killer writer's block for the last 6 months of the year.
What are your top three fics you wrote last year?
dirty with harmony alex gaskarth/collin patrick walsh (of all time low & grayscale respectively). E. 3k words. filthy, filthy ass-eating based on two different songs. it was my first fic of 2024 and i'm still very proud of it. treasure finder steve harrington/billy hargrove. E. 6.2k words. canon divergent billy's journey from childhood to adulthood growing up with a foot fetish, and the shame that comes with feeling like there's something wrong with him. the feedback i got for this one made me genuinely emotional, and i intend to complete a couple of sequels for it this year! touch so soft (but where's the kill?) steve harrington/eddie munson. E. 13k words. steve's a cecaelia and eddie graduates to monsterfucker status after becoming enamoured with his tentacles. this one nearly didn't get finished and posted in time so it deserves the mention.
What was your biggest pit of despair moment?
when i finished that fucking tentacle fic with not even 48 hours to spare, in the middle of the night when i had work the next day, and for whatever reason on this occasion... the formatting didn't save when i tried to post it. so i had to comb back through the entire fic the next day to make sure it was all formatted correctly and i was about CRYINGGGGG.
What have you learned?
that writing for tv show characters rather than rpf is sooooo much more intimidating. so it takes more work to try and block out the insecurity in writing and posting because people have extremely strong opinions about how to interpret canon and how a character should behave. it's rough honestly and i struggle with getting the 'voices' right the way i want them but i'm getting there, i think.
Did you beta any fics last year? Any faves you want to shout out?
i am super anal and i love beta reading; i did comb through a portion of a friend's fic and help them with a couple of little plot-hole errors but it was very minimal and their fic is far from being done so i can't even shout it out. i don't really have the time to beta read these days!
What three fics from last year did you love?
THIS IS HARD AS FUCK BRO. when the bones are good by @un-buttoned steve harrington/billy hargrove. E. 28.4k words. beautiful canon steve character study that expertly weaves billy into it and gives them a happy ending. the stancy of it all was highlighted perfectly and it's just... so good. a good few years old now but i only read it last year and i'm so glad i did! this author does harringrove so perfectly. double by @itcanbepalped steve harrington/eddie munson. E. 4.8k words. it was soooooo hard to pick just one of mads' fics because i read a lot of them in 2024 and they're all excellent but so many of them were absolutely stellar to me personally. i had to go with this one though because scoops!steve, the double penetration IN PUBLICCCCC, the gagging... stunning work. and trans eddie just hits. excerpt from my comment on the fic if you're not sold on reading it yet: also your tag "unrealistic sex" made me laugh. what do you MEAN it's unrealistic to double-slam your best totally platonic bro's hairy hole with your straps selected specifically to remind you of him in public sugar hiccup by 02tilt steve harrington/eddie munson. E. 9.1k words (chaptered, completed). i don't know this lovely author's tumblr so i can't tag them but this short chaptered fic is a fucking delight. i love their writing style, their eddie voice is perfect to me, it's funny, it's smutty, steve is portrayed wonderfully through eddie's eyes. i think it's a fucking sin this fic doesn't have more comments, i love it so much. easy but lovely read.
What ideas are percolating for this year?
many! but most pressingly, i would like to participate in femslash february this year, as well as @subeddieweek, and maybe later in the year, kinktober. i would also like to complete a sequel to treasure finder!
tagging, but no pressure: @ao3userwalkingonfirex @griefabyss69 @zombiethingy + any other writer who sees this and thinks it would be fun!
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Smut - Mirror Sex Masterlist
close enough to you (ao3) - irwah calum/ashton E, 5k
Summary: “But can’t we, like, just for tonight?”
Calum eyes Ashton warily, realising just how many drinks he must have had. It’s so unlike the boy to go against his own words, his own morals.
“I just, I really want you, Cal.”
Hot Dog And Milkshake (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance luke/ashton E, 2k
Summary: It was the first day of their new tour and Ashton was freaking out. Luke took it up to him to try and calm his best friend down. By calming down, Luke had other things in mind; things that Ashton could not even think of. Ashton could still remember that day when he had gone to Michael’s house for the first time to meet up with the guys. They were introducing themselves and Luke had said ‘hey I’m Luke and I like hotdog and milkshake’, causing Michael and Calum to snicker behind their hands. After so many years, Ashton had finally understood what that had meant.
i know you're broken, so let me fix you (ao3) - vlossoms michael/luke E, 2k
Summary: the one where Luke fucks Michael against a mirror to show him how pretty he is.
Karma’s a Relaxing Thought (Aren’t You Envious That for You It’s Not?) (ao3) - Anonymous luke/ashton E, 2k
Summary: Ashton sighs again, “No. It was me trying to be discreet. But I guess that failed.” He drums his fingers on his thigh in thought. “It was sexual, Luke. In fact, it was a wet dream - I had a fucking wet dream.” In his neurodivergent trainwreck of a brain, Ashton believes that truth is embarrassing. He shouldn’t feel ashamed or have any kind of negative sentiment, yet he does.
(Or where Ashton has a wet dream and tells Luke all about it. Luke makes it a reality.)
Late - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/calum E, 9k
Summary: Calum loves when Luke comes over late. When Luke comes over late, he has to stay the night.
Moisturizer (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance luke/ashton E, 3k
Summary: The first time it happened, it was in a bathroom. Since Luke was horny again, he decided why not make it a second time. They were busy writing and recording but Luke had found a way to squeeze that in their schedule and this time, he was better prepared. Basically, it was inspired by Luke's moisturizer tweet.
Reflections (ao3) - punchinginadream luke/ashton M, 4k
Summary: Ashton doesn’t like his body. Luke decides to fuck him in front of a mirror to show him how beautiful he really is.
So Kiss Me Where I Lay Down (ao3) - FranticFangirl michael/luke T, 3k
Summary: It’s not like Michael was sly or smooth about it, hell, every other person in his life had already figured it out. Calum knew, Ashton knew, Michael’s mother knew, Calum, Ashton and Luke’s mothers all knew. He was pretty sure that even his pets knew, but somehow Luke managed to remain more adorably oblivious to Michael’s crush than a damn poodle, and Michael didn’t know whether to be impressed or concerned by that.
Or, the one when Michael has a crush on Luke, Luke helps him dye his hair, and then they have sex. Oh, also Luke is a girl.
Tie That Binds - @ashtcnirwin (elivigar) Luke/Ashton E, 98k
Summary: In which Luke wants to explore miscellaneous kinks and Ashton strikes him as a good candidate to do said exploring with with.
too hot to handle (ao3) - orphan_account luke/calum E, 11k
Summary: Just nearly 12k of cake smut I wrote when really horny.
when the party ends (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/calum E, 30k
Summary: Sadly, Calum is going to have to buy this bottle of wine. Is he torturing himself unnecessarily? Definitely. He can’t even really make himself feel pathetic about it, though. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing. Of why he misses Luke so much. Of why drinking this wine alone in his apartment is a bad idea. Even without Luke actually being present, Calum is using him.
a heaven, iowa songfic.
Work Out (ao3) - im_just_a_sucker_for_bromance luke/ashton E, 3k
Summary: When Luke had walked into the dressing room, he had thought he would be alone but he was surprised when he found Ashton there; Ashton, who was supposed to be anywhere but there. Although Ashton claimed he was feeling sick, Luke knew it was something else, something that was right up his alley, and he took it up to him to help Ashton.
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Ok so for about a good two-three months now I had a post in my drafts about how I realized I ship Powser, and long story short I started comparing Bowser to what I think to be how most villains in media interact with their damsel in distress if they express “love” for them. Issue is, I don’t have nearly enough knowledge/examples on this topic to know how truthful this comparison is, but said comparison is also the main thing tying this post together. So when thinking of ways to remove this element while still having all the same info in this post, I kind of came up short. Plus, I like the way the post is structured as is.
In other words, here’s the post as I originally wrote it, but be aware that the comparison is probably very flawed. Maybe there’s some truth to it, probably not. In any case, just focus on the Powser side of it, the villain comparison is just there for the structure. Enjoy! (long post ahead, a bit over 3k words)
So I recently realized that I really like Powser which I did NOT expect given I’m usually much more of a “friends to lovers” type of person, and trying to understand why I like it led me to think about how villains tend to be presented in their relationship with the “damsel in distress”, and it’s actually very interesting when you compare it to Bowser.
TL;DR: Unlike most villains who showcase sexual attraction (I think?), Bowser is shown to be romantically attracted to Peach. And while his actions are still very much shitty and should be seen as such, man is he adorable sometimes ! Plus, the way his feelings are shown to be genuine makes him look better than most villains, whose “love” for their victim is portrayed as """creepy lust""" by their medias.
(Obviously there is absolutely nothing inherently wrong with sexual attraction. I’m talking in the context of medias that sometimes tend to vilify it, especially when it comes to the antagonists, hence the language used in this post.)
So the first thing that came in mind while thinking of other villains was Dis//ney’s Alad//din (the 90s/animated one) and how Jaf/ar treats Jasm/ine at the end of the movie, more specifically when he wishes for her to fall in love with him and she ends up pretending to be as a distraction.
Thing is, Jasm/ine doesn’t act like she’s in love with Jaf/ar, she acts like she’s thirsting for him, and the way Jaf/ar reacts shows that this is pretty much what he had in mind when saying he wants her to love him. This isn’t love, it’s lust.
Now, I can’t say I’m someone who watches a lot of movies, especially not live-actions ones, so take what I’m about to say with a huge grain of salt. Basically, I kinda feel like what we see in Alad/din is the norm when it comes to villain/victim relationships? Like you have those antagonists who want the damsel in distress to be horny for them, who don’t see those women as people and don’t give a shit about them, only keeping them to get what they want out of them and having no issue discarding them afterwards if they get bored with those poor girls.
Btw that’s not to say that every single villain who kidnaps someone wants to sleep with them. But when it comes to villains who claim to love their victim, there does seem to be at least some sexual tension here, or at least some uncomfortable touches.
And then there’s Bowser. To give a few examples of what he does:
- In that one 1986 anime movie thing, he gets very soft around Peach, gushing about how he’s in love with her and wants to marry her, trying to cheer her up when she’s sad, and let’s not forget that “it’s more of a bracelet, shows that my love is bigger” line with the ring.
- In the mainline “platformers” games, you have “Mario Sunshine” in which Bowser wants his son to have a mother, and “Mario Odyssey” in which he tries to marry Peach, going around the world gathering all the absolute best things for the wedding. There’s also the New Bros U intro with Bowser gently moving Peach’s chair, making sure she doesn’t get hurt by his attack, showing he doesn’t want to hurt her.
- Not sure exactly if this counts as this could be a form of objectification, but you know that cliché of villains getting that all-powerful thing they wanted and immediately betraying/discarding all the people they worked with and/or claimed to love? Well, in the Galaxy games, Bowser gets the power to create a whole new universe, and yet still takes the time to capture Peach, claiming in the first game that he wants her to rule along with him. Again, this could be a form of objectification, especially when looking at his dialogue in the intro of the second game, but it’s still interesting how Bowser doesn’t really fall on that trope, still having his army and Junior on top of Peach (btw the intro of Galaxy 2 is very funny on that front because Bowser literally has enormous powers and yet still makes a detour for Peach, thus causing Mario to be on his tail. Like, let her go dude, she’s not that into you. You got all the powers of the universe, who cares about that one specific woman when you could have literally anybody else?).
- In the first Paper Mario game, Bowser tells Peach that he would fulfill her wishes if she wants (as long as he likes them) and gushes in his diary about how he hopes Peach likes him. And in Thousand Years Doors, he keeps trying to look for her upon hearing she got kidnapped.
- In Super Paper Mario, he gets overjoyed about the wedding but still immediately shows worry for Peach when Nastasia uses her mind control on her, and in general Bowser spends the game clearly loving being able to call Peach his wife, and joins the team again in 7-2 out of concern for her safety. Same with 8-1 where for all he knows he’s about to die and yet his main concern is her safety, to the point where he's willing to ask Mario to protect her for him. His priority is not being with Peach, instead it's Peach being safe.
- In Color Splash, the first thing he does when first getting back to himself during the fight is ask if Mario brought Peach with him.
- In Origami King, he doesn’t want her to see him as a wet floor sign and later asks Olly if Peach is safe and comfortable, which as I’ve seen pointed out implies that him capturing Peach is mostly a forced vacation/sleepover until Mario arrives and she’s put on the spot for show.
(- In general Paper Bowser is a huge hopeless romantic, at least from what I’ve seen of him.)
- In Superstar Saga he helps Mario and Luigi reach the Bean Kingdom for Peach’s sake. Then in Bowser’s Inside Story his most beloved and protected memories are his memories of Peach + he makes saving her his priority towards the end. And in Dream Team, he hears a rumor that Peach might have gotten kidnaped and immediately flies all the way to Pi’illo Island to find her.
- You cannot convince me that his car in Mario 3D World wasn’t an attempt to impress Peach, given this is one of the only two games (three with Wonder) where you play as her and face against him. /hj
- In that one old comic people kept bringing up after the movie came out, Bowser spends a lot of time gushing about marrying Peach. Also despite Peach being very temperamental in this comic, I don’t think Bowser once tries to hurt her? Obviously you have the Magikoopa brainwashing her at the end which is fucked up but outside of that does Bowser ever get angry or menacing when it comes to her?
- In general, outside of the games where Peach is playable and the intro of Inside Story (which comes off as OOC for Bowser tbh, I get him being pissed off but him trying to burn Peach is just really off), do we ever get to see Bowser raise a hand on her and/or try to physically hurt her? Same for his anger, how often do we get to see him raise his voice on her? And no the sports and party games don’t count since everyone is doing the same thing to everyone else in those, and in the party games it'd be unfair if playing that one character led to Bowser going easy on the player.
Now I might be missing some more moments, especially since I’m far from the most knowledgeable on the sport/party games and some RPGs (slowly making my way through them), but there’s one thing that is very obvious: while most villains express sexual attraction for the damsel in distress, Bowser expresses romantic attraction.
Bowser genuinely cares for Peach. She’s one of his most precious memories. In Super Paper, he snaps out of the joy of getting married when Peach is getting brainwashed, showing how much he values her safety. He absolutely adores her and isn’t afraid to express it, especially Paper Bowser.
Those two instances (Inside story and Super Paper) especially really seem to lean into how much Bowser loves Peach. In Inside Story, the fact that she’s his most well-preserved memory shows just how much he values the little time he spends with her and how important she is to him, not as some pretty face but as a person he genuinely wants to create more memories with. And in Super Paper, Bleck is giving him the one thing he’s always wanted, and yet he still shows some reticence when Nastasia uses her mind control, making it look like Peach being safe and sound is more important to him than them being a couple. Idk, those two moments just really get to me when you think about it this way.
(Btw in Super Paper I adore that Peach hesitates to leave him in 8-1 because, while we know Peach is incredibly kind so of course she’d be worried for a teammate, for once it feels like Bowser actually earned it. He spends the whole game being caring towards Peach, and wouldn’t you know, being nice and respectful to someone actually makes them care for you! I swear the Powser potential from this game is unmatched!)
When most villains say “I want this woman to love me”, they usually mean “I want this woman to obey and submit to my every want”. When Bowser says “I want Peach to love me”, he means “I want to be able to wake up everyday by her side, make her smile and laugh and be happy, see her be a mother to my kid(s), learn more about her and spend as much time with her as I can”. Bowser isn’t trying to marry Peach because he wants to “own” her, he wants to marry her because he quite literally wants to spend the rest of his life by her side.
Now that’s not to say that Bowser doesn’t feel any form of sexual attraction. But since Mario is such a kids-friendly franchise, the focus is much more on his romantic feelings. Also, I'll admit, whether Bowser is in love with Peach or with the idea of Peach is up for debate.
I think that’s the main reason why so many people are quick to call Bowser sweet/adorable when seeing the way he talks about Peach. Because the thing is, Bowser is still being a complete asshole here. He’s constantly kidnapping her, putting her in a cage on several occasions, forced her to marry him like 6 different times, very often disregards her body autonomy by grabbing her (+ the kidnappings), terrorizes and sometimes even tortures/kills her people, and his phone pic in the parental controls video + the picture frames in Nintendo World make him look like a creep. Despite his feelings for her, there’s definitely a level of objectification here that should not be ignored.
Hell, I didn’t mention the 2023 movie on the list because I’d argue he was more obsessed rather than in love. Plus the scene where he proposes to her low-key feels like the very first time they meet, making his previous actions creepier (or at the very least they barely know each other, heck Peach didn’t even know Bowser likes her!). And he’s quick to use blackmail and violence against her, especially in the end. The wedding cake toppers also show he cares more about himself than Peach and sees her as an object rather than a person.
(I actually take back what I said in my movie reaction post about Bowser being like the one from Super Paper. He might be goofy when showing his softer side, which was what I was focused on when comparing the two, but he’s also clearly not as genuine and sweet as Paper Bowser. The way he mistreats his army and especially Kamek in the movie is also different from most games, most notably the RPGs since that’s when we see him interact with his people and he’s a relatively good king to them.)
Compare 2023 Movie Bowser to the 1986 movie in which he tries to get Peach involved in the wedding preparations, tries to cheer her up, never gets angry at her despite how much she’s resisting him and never once raises his hand on her. Even when she outsmarts him by making him shapeshift, he’s amused by her attempt. Literally the worse he does in this movie is grab her against her will on many occasions (and obviously the kidnaping and forced marriage, that goes without saying).
Going back on topic, despite Bowser being very much horrible in the way he approaches Peach, since every other villain out there is lusting after the woman they capture, making them appear creepy/predatory, Bowser comes off as an angel in comparison. He’s one of those rare cases of a villain who is truly sincere about his feelings for the woman he captures, and since we see other occasions of him being a sweetheart (with Junior) and a dumbass (the RPG series), he becomes an incredibly endearing character. So his feelings for Peach come off as adorable despite the bad elements because we’re aware he has a soft side so we know he’s truly sincere. Him being sometimes more of an antihero in the RPGs + his inclusion in sports games and the like probably also help seeing him in that good light.
(Also yes I’m very much aware that there’s a huge issue when it comes to how fandoms perceive female characters, and I will absolutely believe you if you tell me this is one of the reasons why you have people who talk shit about Peach so much all while defending Bowser’s actions, especially since his feelings for Peach are so rooted into his character. Oh and obviously you have the people horny for Bowser who love his softer/romantic side and value the moments where he displays this part of himself, that goes without saying.)
I’m especially surprised by the 1986 movie showing such a characterization of him, considering it came out 1-2 years after the very first Super Mario game (aka Bowser’s first appearance, at least I think?). Like imagine making a movie about those characters and going “hey you know the giant turtle monster we fight in this game? What if he was a huge lovable dork who just wanted some love in his life?”. Tbh I adore that choice.
Overall, it’s just interesting to see how Bowser differs from other villains on that front. It’s very interesting to see a villain who does pretty terrible things to a girl all the while being genuine in his feelings for her, idk it’s a very cool contrast. I also like how “true love” tends to be a motivation for the heroes, seen as something good, so it’s fun to see stories where villains have that very same motivation without it being “““twisted””” with lust. And yes I know that last point applies to many more antagonists than just Bowser, and not just for feelings like love.
And a bit off-topic but I also really like how you can easily explain Bowser’s behavior here (not justifying it tho!!!). In the Yoshi Island games, we see he was raised as a spoiled brat who was always given what he wanted, made worse by him being a monarch. We even still see some of that behavior in his adult self, for example when he gets angry and starts stomping his foot like a kid throwing a tantrum.
As a result of his upbringing, Bowser likely just doesn’t know how to take a no. He’s used to always get what he wants, and take it by force if necessary. So when Peach refuses him, he does just that, incapable of understanding why she doesn’t want him.
The 86 movie is actually an excellent example of this. In two scenes (the one with Peach outsmarting him and the ring dialogue) we see Bowser getting worked up when Peach is upset, showing he genuinely wants her to be happy. But at the same time he’s incapable of realizing that he’s the reason why she’s so upset and the one thing he should do is let her go. The ring scene especially shows it very well. When Peach throws the ring and starts crying because she doesn’t want to get married, Bowser thinks she’s upset due to the ring being too big and immediately tries to soothe her by promising to get a better ring. Again, it’s kinda crazy how this movie was made when Bowser only existed for a single year and yet they already made him genuinely in love with Peach.
I’d also add that Bowser seems to have a pretty high opinion of himself, thinking he’s awesome and shit (or maybe he’s overcompensating, that seems like a possibility). As a result, it’s possible that his mentality on the situation is “Well I’m in love with her so surely she must love me! How could she not?”, making it even harder for him to comprehend why she doesn’t love him.
Again, it doesn’t justify his actions in the slightest but it’s still interesting how you can somewhat understand why he’s like this.
And as to why I ship Powser, honestly I still have no idea ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I think it has to do with the storytelling potential of a unrequited love/it’s complicated/they have history situation in regards to their roles as monarchs, especially in the case of Peach whose character is brimming with untapped potential. I actually like to describe their relationship as “I hate the effect you have on my life but I couldn’t imagine a life without you in it” or “Our kingdoms are enemies for a good reason but if anything happened to you I’d rush in to save you without hesitation”. It's just that idea of them being ex-lovers who had a bad falling out and how Peach still cares about him to an extent and how their lives constantly intertwine with villains trying to take over their kingdoms + Bowser's kidnappings.
And since we’re talking Powser and since wondering whether they know each other or not in the movie got me to question how we can tell they know each other in the games: the best way I could describe their relationship in the games is familiar/”comfortable”, like you have the way Peach tries to convince Bowser to join the group in Super Paper, the way she talks about him in general in the Mario and Luigi games, or stuff like most cutscenes in Odyssey where she never seems afraid of Bowser.
I’ve also seen that Switch Tennis game with the evil racket and how Peach is the one who tries to get through to Bowser when he steals it, straight up saying “listen to me” which makes it seem like she knows she’s the one person who could get him to stop, or you have the first Rabbids game where she comments on how “Junior is sometimes even worse than his father”, plus the way she looks like a mother about to reprimand her child in the cutscene where Jr learns Bowser is coming home (which I find hilarious; lady that’s not your kid, I thought we’d been through this already in Sunshine!). Oh and CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE WAY SHE’S LOOKING AT HIM IN (spoilers in link) THAT CUTSCENE FROM THE NEW RABBIDS 2 DLC!!!
I don’t know how to fully explain but, looking at these kinds of interactions, you can tell that the two of them know each other, and to an extent Peach knows that Bowser won’t hurt her, hence why she’s not afraid to oppose him. It’s pretty funny actually how in the games Peach tends to be exasperated by Bowser more than anything else. Like he’s not a menace, just a weekly annoyance. And again, when you compare it to the movie where there’s only hostility and awkwardness between them, you do get the impression that they’re two complete strangers meeting for the first time. The fact Movie Peach had no idea about his feelings for her doesn’t help either. Then again, about the hostility, Peach in the games is much sweeter so maybe she shows a nicer side to Bowser because that’s just who she is.
#Powser#Bowser X Peach#Princess Peach#Bowser#Super Mario#Flor talks#long post#looking at the ending of that post you can tell this was written shortly after the Rabbids DLC 2 came out#But yeah; as said in the intro I'm really not sure if the comparison to other villains#and what it entails in how Bowser is seen by the general public is actually a good take; I don't think it is#but also I like how this post is overall written#all in all; that post is just an excuse to gush about Powser; so please don't take the 'analysis' part of it too seriously#btw yes I saw the Wonder animation and love it; pretty funny how powser will never be canon yet Nintendo keeps giving us content#(not that I'm complaining; quite the opposite)#also it feeds my hc that Bowser would LOVE a chubby Peach bc big=healthy in Koopa's eyes since turtles have thick limbs#also also it's pretty funny how I'm worried that Peach being less kidnapped=Bowser's crush slowly disappearing#but then Nintendo keeps proving me wrong by showing that; kidnapped or not; his crush isn't going anywhere; and I'm very happy about it#in other news I'm going to star putting the number of words in my longer posts so people know what they're getting into#also might put the read more earlier to make sure the whole post isn't opened when trying to see the rest of the intro
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If you have not yet read any of the other parts, please click the Title Page to go to the start.
Lucien Week Day Six :: Romance.
From past to present, do you see Lucien with a romantic partner? @lucienweekofficial
Let's start this part, a little... different.
Elain Archeron had been spending far too much time on her own over the past few months. Save for dinners, or when she would go visit with Lucien in the Day Court, which was more often than anyone at home knew, or would like, had they known.
She was constantly treated as a child, as though she could not hold her own, could not decide things, and needed help.
With Lucien, she felt free. She felt as though she could take on the world. She got the feeling he would let her take his life if situations got so dire. With Lucien, things were simple but also incredibly complicated.
Was the reason her feelings were changing, because of the bond, or were they changing all on their own? They were friends, and while she saw how he would wish for more, she also saw him fight those wishes, those thoughts, the urges the bond made him feel, want. Lucien fought against his instincts, to make her comfortable.
The thread that tied them did not glow, but her heart did feel as though it skipped a beat, while her stomach had the fluttering feeling she had only felt at the beginning of her courtship with Greyson.
Elain was finding that she was finalising her decision she had been considering for a few weeks now. One that would not be taken well, or even easily amongst her sisters, or their family. But it was a decision she was making on her own.
She remembered something Lucien had said a what felt like forever ago, "My Lady, whenever you wish for me to visit, all you need to do is give a little tug, and I will be right there by your side before you know it." And so, without hesitation, without thinking about it, without realizing that it was the middle of the night, and before she really could stop herself at all, Elain took hold of that thread, and gave it a gentle, but firm tug.
She had made up her mind. Her only concern was if there would be a rejection.
*** *** ***
Lucien was on his bed, unable to sleep. He was trying to block out the sound of his mother and Helion reuniting. Again. Every night. For the fifth week in a row. He knew Helion had a reputation, that as much was common knowledge. But his mother?
Clearly, she'd have had to, having seven sons, but still. He didn't want to think about it, let alone be forced to listen to it.
When he felt the first one, he groaned, thinking the reuniting pair was now affecting the house itself. Until he felt it again, and he could not mistake what it was. Nearly crying in relief when he realized what it was.
Finally having an excuse to leave, Lucien wrote a quick note, not knowing how long he would be, and left the house and made it out the gate before winnowing away.
He landed at the edge of the property, and started to make his way up the walk, already seeing Elain waiting there for him, a dazzling smile on his face, causing Lucien to stumble a step. His stumble only caused Elain to giggle into her hand, which he heard clearly. An entirely new sound, one he had to fight to stay standing, and finish his way to her.
When Lucien finally reached his mate, his friend, he was shocked how she pulled him in for a hug right away. Elain usually avoided contact, not wanting to set the bond off more than necessary. Yet here she was, being the one to initiate the contact with a hug. Lucien wouldn't complain, but he sure was confused as he hugged her back.
When Elain did pull back, she kept a hand on his arm with a smile. Lucien just stood there, at a loss for words, dumbstruck. But he had to restrain himself. The two of them were friends. He could not give into these instincts that were so hard to control that the mating bond put forth.
Elain spoke then, mentioning how she did not belong here, at the Night Court. How she needed to get out. She paused there as if she hoped Lucien would pick up on the hint.
The only thing Lucien did pick up on, though, was how Elain mentioned she didn't belong in the Night Court. Which was what caused him to leave.
Lucien quickly explained to Elain that she should not exile herself from her family, that it was not worth losing her family over. Though he grew confused as he saw Elain shake her head.
Lucien listened closely as Elain repeated herself, saying how she did not belong here and did not fit in to the Night Court. There was a certain emphasis on the word night, a small amount, but it was there.
That's when it clicked with Lucien, and his eyes widened. The metal eye looked his mate over as if to make sure there were no spells or glamour on her. When none was found, Lucien spoke.
"You want ... to come to the Day Court?" Lucien asked, as if he were clarifying, to make sure he understood correctly.
Elain simply nodded and informed him that her sisters would not react kindly. That the High Lord would react with anger. They would fight to keep her here because it was a big decision, and they should discuss it amongst themselves, leaving Elain out of it.
Luciens anger rose. He had suspicions that she did not get choices or a say here, but to have it confirmed with what she had just said. To know that his mate was stuck, without the chance to even make a decision on some of the simplest things, infuriated not just the instincts the mate bond gave him, but also who he was to his core, after witnessing his mother trapped his whole life.
To know Feyre also would allow this after she escaped Tamlin for doing the same thing to her. She knew what having very little to no choice was like. How could she do this or allow this to happen to her own sister?
Lucien forced himself to calm down enough to not frighten or concern his mate. "My Lady, if you feel like you need to move, if you wish to go somewhere else, you are going to. I will make sure of that. Go to the Day Court ... go onto my patio," Lucien added, remembering the reuniting that was going on. "I'll go in to pack for you."
Elain simply shook her head, explaining how there was no need to, that she had been bringing over all her important items over the past few weeks, tucking them in a box she had brought, and put in Luciens cupboards. "I've known for a while that I don't belong here. I've known for a while that I want to live with you and your parents in the Day Court. If you all would allow it."
Elain then took Luciens' hand, and the moment their hands touched, the two were back in Luciens' room. It was like no winnowing he had ever felt before.
Elain then pulled Lucien behind her as she walked towards an area of Helions' house that he hadn't been to before.
"Would you dance with me?" Elain had asked Lucien as they reached a room, and she opened the doors to what looked like a ballroom. "I'm not as good as Nesta, I didn't get all the lessons, but I can dance party dances, and it's been so long, I do miss it." Elain finished as she stepped inside, bringing Lucien along as she was still holding his hand.
Lucien stood there, unknowing how he could deny her request, but he couldn't deny it even if he wished to. Elain looked so eager, and her request was such a simple one. How couldn't he agree? How could someone deny her when she was looking at them, with such hopeful excitement in her beautiful eyes, the colour of a young fawns coat.
So he agreed, though he was nowhere near dressed appropriately for any form of dancing. But no one would be watching, so it shouldn't matter too much.
Elain finally let go of Luciens' hand, which was immediately cold and feeling empty, so she could go turn on some music quietly before running back over, finishing with a curtsey.
Unable to stop the smile of pure joy that spread across his face, Lucien returned Elains curtsey with a deep bow, and when he straightened up, he saw Elain smiling widely as well. Though he could have sworn her cheeks were slightly more coloured than a few seconds before.
And so, the two began dancing, losing themselves to the music.
It wasn't until they finished their seventh dance, pressed together, that they had to stop. The two of them were tired, having both been up all night, and just danced through seven songs.
They may have finished dancing, yet neither of them moved to separate from the other. Both smiling and breathing hard, looking to the other, as though they had not had fun like that in their whole lives.
Still, neither of them moving. The two continued to look the other in the eyes. Their smiles slowly faded, but their gazes grew more intense.
"Lucien, I-" Elain began softly, quietly.
"Well, I am genuinely sorry because I can't tell you enough how much I truly hate to break this up, but we have company"
Lucien and Elain both jumped apart as if the other burned them, turning towards the door, the intruder, the voice that wasn't supposed to be there.
Lucien saw his mother standing there with Helion, along with-
Elain grabbed Luciens hand. Her hand was shaking ever so slightly, and this was the only indicator of her fear. Lucien squeezed her hand gently, offering her comfort the same way she was showing him her fear.
Lucien recognized her fear as he saw Rhysand, Feyre, and the Viper.
"Rhysand and Feyre claim that we have taken a high status member of their Court." Helion spoke with a dismissive air to his tone, as if he could tell which way this would go. But Lucien knew the tone would turn dangerous if the conversation turned to even the smallest amount of violence on his lands.
"We did not take her. We freed her. Just as Rhysand freed Feyre when he had his cousin retrieve her from the Spring Court, while Tamlin and I were away." Lucien responded, with a disinterested tone himself.
"Freed? And you would compare the two situations?" Rhysand asked in disbelief.
"Elain?" Feyre had called out to her sister.
When Elain did not speak, Lucien continued. "Yes, freed. Elain told me that she was not free to make her own decisions. That everything she does has to go through the groups approval. It is similar to what Feyre went through after we came out of the mountain. Tamlin refused to let her do what she wanted and would constantly make decisions for her." Lucien explained, seeing realization dawn in Feyres eyes as she remembered what Lucien was talking about.
"I also grew up, watching my whole life, as a female had her choices and freedom removed from her. The whole Court loved her, but they didn't see the pain she was in." Lucien spoke, looking towards his mother. "No one saw the amount pain she was in. Even those who loved her the most."
Lucien then looked back to their guests. "So no, We didn't take her. From our standpoint, and from what she has told us, we freed her."
"She is a high-ranking member of my court." Rhysand responded, not backing down.
"She is my mate." Lucien returned, looking down at Elain. He knew this would be the winning card. He went into this, not wanting to use it, but he was left with no choice.
"She's our sister." The viper spat, fury in her eyes.
Lucien looked towards Nesta and then Feyre. Feyre at least seemed to understand what Lucien meant. "There seems to be a key difference between the fae and human lands you are unaware of yet." Lucien spoke, his tone taking a more apologetic tone as he looked down at Elain. He knew she wouldn't like this next part, even if he worded it the least offensive way he could.
"Being my mate, there is a certain ... claim that I have that even you, as her sister, do not have." He gently squeezed Elains hand, trying to let her know that they were only words to him. Only words to get her to stay, it it was what she truly wanted.
"Even Feyre, as Tamlins Fiancé, as she was not yet married to him when Rhysand announced that he and Feyre were mates, Tamlin could react, sure. But if he tried to take her back, it would have caused a war." Lucien explained. "Mates are rare and are treasured when they do occur."
"Elain?" Feyre tried again. And finally, Elain spoke up.
"I have been planning to come here for the past few weeks. I do not fit in in the Night Court. I asked Lucien to bring me here, if it would be alright if I came here. I was planning to ask Helion in the morning." Elain explained, her hand shaking more, yet her posture and her voice did not betray her. "This is my choice." Elain finished before walking off, dragging Lucien behind her, refusing to let him go.
Lucien heard Helion behind them, sounding as if he were ending the discussion. "Well, you heard her. It is her choice to be here. I'm not going to strip her of her choice. And Lucien is right. She is his mate. You can't exactly change that. Now, unless you plan on visiting socially, forgive me as I ask you to-" and Lucien couldn't hear the rest of what Helion said, as he and Elain were too far away.
"Elain, about what I said, at the end there, please understand I didn't mean it. I'd never lay cl-" Lucien started until he was interrupted.
Lucien was interrupted by Elain grabbing the back of his head, and pulling it down to reach as she kissed him.
Frozen, for just about a second and a half, Lucien finally pulled himself together and moved to place his hands on either side of Elains face and return her kiss.
After he started to kiss her back, Elain let the back of his head go, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and rose up on her toes so Lucien wasn't bending down so low.
The small thread that tied the two of them together glowed golden and bright. It pulsed, it sang, it thrived, and it came alive. Their very souls started dancing together just like they had been an hour before. Gravity ceased to exist as it felt like they were floating a foot off the ground. They weren't only brightly golden on the inside, as the sunrise was aimed directly at them, painting their bodies golden as well.
The kiss lasted less than a minute, but it felt like it lasted a glorious eternity. Lucien didn't want to pull back, but he needed to. Being caught off guard, he didn't have the breath to continue any longer.
So Lucien pulled back and looked towards Elain, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life. How had he gotten so lucky to end up with her as his mate?
"I hope you know that that will make it impossible to fight off the instincts and stay just friends." Lucien spoke first, looking into his mates eyes, with nothing but adoration and awe.
Smiling, Elain reached up, giving Lucien another quick kiss before responding herself. "Did you not get the hint? I don't want to stay just friends." Elains smile only widened before hugging Lucien.
Elains hug felt like home.
Lucien felt, well, he felt his heart swell. He felt wanted in a different way from all those months ago when Helion had told him that he would never be exiled from the Day Court. The two were friends, but that statement from Elain felt like more.
Lucien, as a rule, rarely let himself hope. Because his hopes were always crushed right in front of him. But he hoped for the Day Court and Helion, and he hasn't been let down yet. Could he allow himself to hope for this?
In the back of his mind, he could hear the words pulsing.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
To read the next part, press its title, In The Afternoon
This is not Inner Circle hate. It is taking canon information about Elain from Silver Flames(Nesta and Cassians thoughts on how the Night Court doesn't suit her, and Nesta, Azriel and Rhysand making decisions on Elains behalf), and ... slightly tweaking it to fit the narrative here.
#Lucien Week 2023#Prompt: Romance#Lucien Vanserra#Elain Archeron#Elucien#A Court of Thorns and Roses#elucien fic#elucien fanfiction#Pro Lucien Vanserra#Pro Elucien#LucienWeek2023
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chapter 3: prince
word count: 3k
Sonata in Darkness: [2] ... [4]
“I mean god… he’s such a jerk.”
You had just finished telling Selina about what had happened down in the 44 Below as you sat in the cab. You didn’t even hear what place Selina told the man to drive to, you were so upset and instantly started ranting.
“An absolute asshole,” she said as she rolled her eyes. She started telling you about what had happened on her end of the line, before she gave a sudden gasp. “I just remembered!”
“Jesus, Cat, way to scare the shit outta me. What’s wrong?”
She gave a sly look and smirked. “While you were busy with bat freak getting info from that D.A. guy, I was getting info from some loud-mouth customers.”
You raised a brow, silently asking her to continue.
“Well, let’s just say we’ll be busy tomorrow night… hope you didn’t have any plans,” she said amusingly, before turning her gaze out the window.
You looked at her in silence, expecting her to continue, but she still looked on. You scoffed, “Um, hello? Are ya gonna clue me in on what’s going down?”
She looked at you seriously, before a smirk crept onto her face and her facade broke. Laughing, she filled you in. “Okay, okay. According to some guy working in some narcotic lab, there’s supposed to be a drop going on—a score, if you will. I wrote down the place he was talking about. Anyways, we sneak there and steal whatever money they’re trading right from their noses. Come on,” she winked, “can’t be too hard.”
She gave you an eager look as you thought it over. On one hand, you guys could really use that money—living isn’t cheap. And it isn’t like this would be the hardest thing you’ve done; you’ve done way worse…probably. But on the other hand…the consequences of getting caught are much higher. These guys probably wouldn’t slap cuffs on you and send you to jail, they’d more likely shoot first and ask questions later, unlike that cop paroling the Mayor’s office. But the money…
“Yeah, okay,” you gave in. “Just give me the details-“
Your phone interrupted with a bzzzz.
Looking at your phone, you and Selina could see that it was your boss, Oswald Cobblepot.
Bzzzz.
You stared at the screen, panic filling you. Did he find something out? Are you in trouble? Maybe-
Bzzzz.
“I think you should answer that,” Selina whispered. You hastily accepted the call and put the phone to your ear.
“Heya doll, how’s it going?”
“Oh, it’s going alright. It was a busy night tonight, you know how it gets,” you laughed nervously.
“So me ‘n Mr. Falcone have been talking; he says he’s missed seein’ ya ‘round his place. He’s invited you to accompany him to the Mayor’s funeral tomorrow morning. Ain’t that nice of him?”
You held your breath for a second. Carmine Falcone invited you to go with him? You must have stayed silent for a beat too long, because Oz spoke up.
“Hon?”
“Oh, um, yes! Yes, thank you for the invite. I’m just not sure that-“
“-I think you should go. Wouldn’t want to upset Mr. Falcone, would you?”
“…no. Tell him that I’ll be ready in the morning.”
“Great, great. I’m sure he’ll be pleased. We’ll pick you up, darlin’, don’t worry about it. Have a good night.” He hung up, leaving your eyes to linger on the dark phone screen. Selina’s eyes burned into you as she nearly died of curiosity.
“So,” she finally gave in. “What was that?”
“Oz was asking if I would accompany Falcone to the funeral tomorrow.”
“…you’re joking.”
“I’m not! I tried backing out, but… you know…”
“Nah, I get it.” Selina had a strange look on her face. “Just be back for the score, got it?”
“Of course,” you smiled.
“And hey,” Selina got serious. “Just be safe, yeah? You know Carmine Falcone…”
————————————————————————————————
“You know Carmine Falcone?”
“I work at the mob spot, of course I know him.”
“You didn’t tell me you had a relationship with him.”
“I don’t have a relationship with him. Never did. What’s your problem?”
“Well, that’s not what it looked like.”
“You don’t believe me? You really gonna be an asshole about this?”
“Are you going to tell me the truth? You seeing another one of these mobsters? Some loser nobody—“
“Pretty,” Alfred interrupted Bruce, causing him to hurriedly pause the recording of the night prior. He had been rewinding that last bit of conversation for quite some time now. Alfred continued, ��New friend of yours? Although by the way you’re talking, it seems a little more serious.”
Bruce gave him a sharp look before sighing and looking back at the screen. “I’m not so sure.”
“Looks like you upset her.” The recording was paused and zoomed onto your face. Even with your angry expression and tears that threatened to swell, you still looked beautiful. Bruce casted him an annoyed look. “Shall I take this as a good sign?”
“What?”
“Your attire.” Alfred gestured to Bruce, who was dressed rather handsomely. He was wearing a nice black suit and tie. “Is Bruce Wayne making an actual appearance?”
“There’s a public memorial for Mayor Mitchell. Serial killers like to follow reactions to their crime,” Bruce said as if it was the most obvious thing. “Riddler might not be able to resist.”
“Oh, that reminds me,” Alfred jumped as he took a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I took the liberty of doing a little work on this latest cipher—the one from the rat maze.” Bruce turned fully to face him, his back now facing the digital you. He could feel your eyes burning into him. “I’m afraid his Spanish is less than perfect, but I’m fairly certain it translates to ‘You are El Rata Alada.’”
“Rata Alada…” Bruce pondered for a moment before continuing, “‘Rat with wings?’”
“It’s slang for pigeon,” Alfred informed. “Does that mean anything to you?”
“Yeah, a stool pigeon-“
“-Where are your cufflinks?” Alfred interrupted.
“I couldn’t find them.”
“Well, you can’t go out like that,” the older man declared as he started to undo his own links.
“Alfred, I don’t want your cufflinks.”
The man handed Bruce the small piece of jewelry. “You have to keep up appearances. You’re still a Wayne.”
Bruce scoffed, “And what about you? You a Wayne?” Your cyber eyes felt hotter against his back.
“Your father gave them to me…” the man said solemnly. Bruce looked downwards, a little ashamed, but glanced back up to see Alfred giving him a small smile. “And besides, I’m just loaning them to you. I want them back!”
————————————————————————————————
Getting ready in the dingy, broken, and mess of an apartment you called home sucked. There was no time to clean after the break-in and unfortunately, it was hard to look at the place without seeing Anika. You kept your eyes on the floor for the most part.
You picked what you thought was most appropriate for a funeral; it was challenging considering that most of your clothes were for your work. Simple was the key—simple black dress, simple makeup, simple boots. The fall weather was chilly, so you borrowed Selina’s black trench coat to layer over your outfit. A car horn made you jump away from the mirror.
The driver politely opened the door so you could make your way into the vehicle. Your boss was sitting in the passenger seat, smoking a cigarette, while Falcone was sitting beside you.
“Morning darling, you look absolutely gorgeous,” he kissed your hand, “let’s get this shit show over with.”
You smiled, albeit uncomfortable, and stayed silent the whole trip. The men were discussing how much they did not want to go to this event but hey, gotta do what you gotta do, I guess. It didn’t take long to reach the church and with a look from Falcone, Oz got out of the car to deal with the crowd.
“Hold it,” he ordered, voice muffled through the car. “You good, fellas?” The crowd took the hit and backed away. He opened the door with a “We’re good Mr. Falcone” and Falcone stepped out, but not before giving you a wink. He cautiously looked around before offering his hand to you. You took it.
Your black knee-high boots clacked against the wet pavement as you settled yourself into the crook of the man’s arm, making your way into the building. You were about to enter until-
“Hey—hey! Give us a wide berth here, will ya, Slick?” You turned around to see Oz yelling at a man, but he was already looking at you with a strange intensity in his eyes. Wait a minute… was that?
“Watchit, fellas. You got the Prince of the City there. Some event, huh? Brought out the one guy in the city more reclusive than me.”
“Thought you’d never leave the Shoreline,” Bruce Wayne fired immediately. “Aren’t you afraid someone’ll take a shot at you?”
“Why? ‘Cause your father ain’t around? Guys,” Falcone looked back at you and Oz, “you know Bruce Wayne?”
“Wow, is that right?” Oz was not impressed in the slightest, unlike you. Bruce Wayne never makes a public appearance; it’s a rarity. Honestly, if it weren’t for all of Gotham never shutting up about his parents, you would have thought him a myth. You had to admit though, he was a little handsome.
“His father saved my life. I got shot in the chest, right here,” Falcone pointed to the place on yourself, ghosting over your right lower rib. Bruce’s glare darkened. “I couldn’t go to no hospital, so we showed up on his doorstep. Operated right on the dining room table. Kid here, he saw the whole thing from up on the stairs lookin’ down.” Falcone lowered his voice and leaned towards Bruce. “I remember your face. You don’t think that meant something when he did that?
“It meant he took the Hippocratic Oath.”
Falcone looked taken aback before letting a small chuckle escape. “‘Hippocratic Oath.’ That’s good.”
“Excuse me,” Bruce went to pass by as Falcone laughed.
“Hey.” One of Falcone’s bodyguards took him by the shoulder. “I was thinking, ya know, since I have my lovely assistant here,” he clapped you on both of your shoulders and gave them a squeeze. “Baby, you know I hate to share, but be a doll and keep Mr. Recluse some company, will ya? Help him loosen out of his shell a bit, I think he needs it,” Falcone laughed again. You expected Bruce Wayne to reject his offer, but he surprisingly obliged. Politely smiling and offering his elbow to you after sending Falcone one more glare, you took it with a shy smile and followed after him. The camera’s of the paparazzi exploded with light.
Bruce kept you nice and close to him as you both made your way inside. There were mourners all around; some cried, some looked bored, and some had a look of disdain.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer started. “Thank you all for coming to today’s memorial for our beloved mayor, Don Mitchell Jr. Our program will begin shortly. As a reminder…”
“I’m sorry,” Bruce spoke softly after a while of silence. “I can’t figure out how such a gorgeous woman is hanging around a guy like Falcone. I’ve seemed to have forgotten my manners. My name’s Bruce Wayne, what’s yours?” He smiled slightly at you as he introduced himself. He looked slightly eager. You already knew who he was, of course because who didn’t, but it was nice to see him introduce himself. It was… kinda cool.
You bashfully smiled back. “Thank you, Mr. Wayne—“
“Bruce.”
“—Bruce.” Your smile grew as you played along. “My name is—“
“What good is a safety net if it doesn’t catch nobody?” A man interrupted. “Didn’t help my daughter when she needed it, I can tell you that. Guy was just another rich scum sucker. He got what he deserved.” The man looked Bruce in the eyes. “Know what I mean? Hey… don’t I know you?”
“Bruce Wayne,” another voice interrupted. Bruce looked a little annoyed. He pursed his lips and frowned before turning to Bella Reál. “Why haven’t you called me back?” She turned her gaze to you briefly and looked surprised. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you had company. I’m Bella Reál, I’m running for mayor. I wouldn’t be bothering you here, but your people keep telling me you’re ‘unavailable.’ Will you walk with me?” Bruce followed the woman, tucking you into his side even more. Bella paused as she looked at you, but continued as she positioned herself onto the other side of Bruce. He gave you an apologetic look, as if he was trying to say ‘sorry for dragging you into this.’
“You know, you really could be doing more for this city. Your family has a history of philanthropy, but as far as I can tell, you’re not really doing anything.” You rolled your eyes, but she couldn’t see. “If I’m elected, I want to change that.” The three of you found yourselves at the front of the session where the ex-mayor's son could be seen. “I’m gonna go pay my respects. Will you wait for me? I want to continue this,” she said adamantly before approaching the casket.
The only thing not deeply depressing in the place was the music, which was lovely. You were going to make a comment to the man you were standing beside, but he was staring at the little boy. You could only assume what he was thinking, and you had a pretty good guess, so you squeezed his arm to try and bring him back. His eyes snapped to yours before squeezing you back with a small smile.
“‘Scuse me, Chief?” Being nosy, both you and Bruce shared a look before eavesdropping. “Gil Colson is missing.” Your grip on Bruce’s arm tightened.
“What?” The Chief asked. His badge name read ‘Gordon.’
“He hasn’t been heard from since last night—“
“—Christ, not again,”
“—Hey, Mr. Wayne,” a new, friendly cop chimed in with a smile and wave after noticing Bruce staring.
Bruce sighed before turning back to you. “Hopefully no more interruptions,” he whispered to you. “Let’s start over. My name’s Bruce, what’s—“
The world hated you because just as he uttered those words, screaming and the sound of revving engines echoed in the church. People, you included, fearfully looked around. Following Bruce’s gaze upwards, a sinister presence of a lone person looked down at you. You reacted quicker than Bruce—you could see a car driving up the church steps before he could, so you made a beeline to the little boy looking curiously. The boy, however, refused to move. He was transfixed at the vehicle heading towards him. Luckily, Bruce dove for you both and managed to roll and take the brunt of the impact as you all fell away from the car. The boy’s mother quickly gathered her son and hurriedly left as you stared at where the car crashed beside you. You looked down at the man who saved you but his gaze was still at the place the lone figure was—although he was gone now. Bruce’s grip tightened on you as you laid atop of him. Helping you to your feet, he saw the scared look on your face.
Cops rushed in with their weapons drawn and pointed at the vehicle.
“Get out of the car! Get out of the car and show your hands,” Gordon ordered.
The car door slowly opened as the driver raised their hands above their head. The person stumbled out and, oh my god, was that…?
“Christ, it’s Colson.”
It was the D.A.! He was still wearing the same outfit from when you last saw him, but there was a bomb around his neck and an envelope taped to him. One of the other officers yelled about the bomb, which caused the funeral attendees to panic. Bruce tucked your face into his chest and backed away as the phone taped to Colson’s hand went off. He was oddly protective, but you appreciated it for the moment.
“Let’s clear this place out now!”
Police began hurriedly ushering people out of the building for their safety, but Bruce stood still. The envelope was addressed to ‘The Batman’ in handwriting that could only belong to a childs. Dragging Bruce to the exit after not wanting to spend more time next to a bomb, you looked for Falcone and Oz. Bruce also kept an eye out, but after about 5 minutes of looking from out the front steps, you gave up. They must have left after the first sign of trouble.
“Those assholes,” you cursed under your breath. “Can’t believe they left me here. I didn’t even want to be here in the first place.”
“Well I couldn’t have met you if they didn’t make you come,” Bruce spoke up after a while.
You softly laughed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right, although I would hardly call it a meeting. It could’ve been done with less bombs.” You looked helplessly at the road; your boss was your only ride and you didn’t want to pay for a taxi.
“Yeah, less bombs would be nice during a proper meeting, but ideally it would be best over dinner, wouldn’t you agree?” You looked at him with surprise as a taxi stopped next to you. Bruce, a little nervously, continued. “Listen, I’m sorry about all the interruptions from earlier. As you can probably tell, I don’t get out much.” He laughed bitterly and opened the door for you. “I would like to get to know you better under better circumstances, truly.” He took a notepad and pen from his coat pocket and scribbled. “Here,” he passed it to you. “I hope to hear from you.” You looked at the numbers he wrote down as he gave a wad of cash to the driver. Looking back up at Bruce, he gave a small, genuine smile before shutting the cab door and hurriedly retreating.
You were mentally screaming but paused for a moment to reflect: You could tell that he was trying to charm you as he was laying it on rather thick, but you found it endearing. I mean, it’s not everyday that the Prince of Gotham lets you hang on his arm and accompany him. Besides, it really did seem like he wanted to get to know you. And most importantly…
He gave you his f-ing phone number!
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hopefully these are not duplicates, how about 1. Describe your journey this year in three words, 12. A concept you'd like to develop next year, and 22. An idea you had that didn't make the cut
Thank you for asking!
1. Describe your journey this year in three words Productive, fun, satisfying. 12. A concept you'd like to develop next year I would like to finish my current fic and then try and take a little break. I'd also like to maybe write for some other fandoms again? I don't know. I'm trying not to think of anything new and just deal with the ideas I have! 22. An idea you had that didn't make the cut Fifty for the Panda was my second attempt for that advent prompt. The original concept quickly showed itself to be way too complex (like the original crack fic idea). The original idea gave Joel more of a personal stake in an investigation. I wrote nearly 3k before I scrapped it, but I liked it because it was a window into Joel's early criminal past and name drops someone he worked for in Only Half a Perfect World. So here's part of it, anyway:
All Joel’s things were in the other bedroom. He dropped the towel and flipped open the lid of his suitcase. He chose a pair of jeans and a short-sleeved shirt - casual, Tess had said. Then he pulled back the covers and slapped the pillows around until the bed looked believably slept in.
Tess had spread her work out on the dining table and sat with her back to a ray of sunshine. She hadn’t bothered to dress. The direct sunlight rendered her robe transparent. She turned a page in a manifesto as he strolled into view, but did not look up.
There was no sign of the promised breakfast yet, so Joel placed a call to his night staff to make sure everything had run smoothly over the night. There was nothing to report. Joel twiddled his index and middle fingers together. He itched for a cigarette, but they were in the middle of another try at quitting, and stamped down on the craving. Where was the fucking coffee?
“What are you working on?” He asked, leaning in to the large, fan-shaped mirror displayed on the wall. He rubbed his hand along his clean-shaven jaw.
“Got a story on some two-bit gang leader who used was based out of - guess where - Texas in the 50s.”
“What was the deal?”
“Nothing special,” she mused, turning a page. “Might’ve had a hand in a disappearance of a girl a few years back. There’d be a few parties interested in meting out a little justice if that’s true.”
“You ever thought of taking tips like this to the cops?”
Tess laughed. “Okay.”
“I mean it. You ever done that, take a tip like this to the cops?”
“I’m a lot of things, Joel, but corrupt isn’t one of them. Are you telling me you have any faith in the legal system?”
“So who’d be interested?”
“The boyfriend never stopped looking. The boyfriend’s a smaller player in the Midwest, but he’ll pay for a positive tip.” Tess turned around a large, black-and-white photo. It was a headshot of a young girl. By the haircut and the starburst collar clips, he’d place it maybe late 50s, early 60s. “Seen her in your travels?”
“No.”
“She’s from Abilene.”
“Texas?”
“Yeah. Francine Gonzalez.”
“You know, Texas is a big place.”
Tess gave him a tight smile. “Just look again.”
Joel pinched the edge of the photo. “I don’t know her. Who was the two-bit gang leader?”
“Ah,” Tess checked her notes. “Linklater. Never heard of him.”
“Oh, that’s a name I do know,” Joel said.
Someone knocked on the door in a very deliberate pattern.
“Hold that thought.”
“I thought Texas was a big place?” Tess called after him as he headed through their two-bedroom suite for the door.
Joel checked the peephole. The knock had been in code, and he could see Ryan on the other side. Joel opened up the door and took the breakfast trolley in by himself - Tess wasn’t really in a state to receive given their relationship was a technical secret - and left Ryan to tip on his behalf.
He started unpacking. Tess waited, drumming the end of her pen on the pile of paperwork.
“Well? Richard Linklater?”
“Let me get some coffee.”
“Joel.”
“It’s not goin’ anywhere in the next two minutes, Tess. Will you let me get my fuckin’ coffee?”
“Why don’t you just have a smoke?”
“No,” he muttered. “Not bustin’ a five-day streak.”
So he organised two cups of piping hot coffee the way they liked it, and by that stage the scent of breakfast had gotten to them both, so they buttered their toast while it was still hot. Joel took the lid off the scrambled eggs and used it like dip.
“Ricky Linklater was one of the first people I did real work for.”
“How far back are we going here?”
“Shit,” he reclined and set one ankle over knee. “Awhile. ‘50, maybe ‘51.”
“Okay. What kind of work?”
“Petty. Two-bit’s the word for it, baby. Shit, I haven’t thought about him in years.”
“Get on with it.”
He sipped the coffee. “Burglaries. He went down for grand theft auto. Liked cars, but wasn’t too smart with on-sellin’ them.”
“Is that what you did for him?”
“No,” Joel replied, looking for the cigarette that wasn’t there. “No, I did some robberies for him, though. Just enough to … get us by some. Then I went back to him one day - round the time I dropped out of high school - said I wanted some better work.”
“Because you had Tommy.”
“Mm. So then I started deliverin’ packages.”
“Packages.”
“Smack, mostly. Nearly got me fuckin’ killed. I did that for awhile, easy work, but yours truly didn’t know Ricky was cuttin’ into - some other guy, I can’t remember his name now - into his turf. Shit, that’s over 20 years ago, you realise that?”
“How’d it nearly get you killed?”
“Wrong place wrong time. The other guy’s goons started making examples of the couriers. First guy I ever saw shot was right next to me. Just another kid. Then his goon looked at me, told me to tell Ricky the debt for trespass was in blood from now on.”
“How old were you?”
“I don’t know. 16, 17. So I passed on the message, grabbed Tommy up, and went and found someplace else to live. Didn’t much like taking Tommy out of school after we’d moved around so much, but it was better than getting caught up in all <i>that.”</i>
Tess smiled. “Didn’t learn your lesson, though.”
“Money’s hard to quit.”
“So you were there at the start and got out when it started getting nasty. So it’s possible Linklater could’ve been involved in something like this?”
Joel sipped his coffee. Everyone knew where business headed once you started dealing. It was an entirely different, dangerous game. And from what Joel knew, Ricky had stayed in it. And that meant you played along.
“Yeah, guess it’s possible. I could put in some calls to some old contacts, see if they know anything.”
“Thanks. And look this over.” She passed him the paperwork. “It’s a new source. I don’t know how good it is. I’m going to shower.”
Joel flicked through the paperwork. This was pretty low-level stuff. Compared to Tess, Linklater was nobody, the boyfriend out for ancient blood was nobody, and the dead girl was nobody. She did this sometimes. She devoted resources to things that didn’t really seem to matter and claimed she was firming up alliances for future benefit. But given her penchant for sheltering strays, Joel thought the concept of justice for a forgotten casualty was a little more complex than making business connections.
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