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love--and--venom · 6 months ago

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Into the Wonderland: Chapter Five

Summary: You're getting some assignments done ahead of time since your heat is swiftly approaching. Marcus tries to make another move, resulting in a fight between him and Hongjoong.

Warnings (IMPORTANT!): Violence!! Descriptions of injuries, Hongjoong loses his shit, campus security and emts are so tired, hospital, slight description of medical procedure (staples), lots of tears, lots of anger, lots of panic

Series Masterlist

“Korean dialogue” / “English dialogue”

Your nightmares didn’t completely disappear, but they were much less frequent. Having a pack member with you helped you calm down and fall back asleep when you did have one, improving your sleep schedule significantly. Hongjoong still kept a watchful eye on you even if he wasn't the one spending the night with you.

With your heat now only a week away, you completely forgot about Marcus in your rush to turn in assignments ahead of their due dates. You’d have less to worry about when you came back to class that way. You were staying late in the computer lab for the third night in a row, but you needed access to a program you couldn’t download on your laptop. You quietly cheered to yourself after you finally submitted the assignment, leaving only one more easy discussion board post to finish.

“Oh, shit,” you cursed under your breath when you realized the time. You were supposed to meet Seonghwa and Hongjoong fifteen minutes ago. You hastily shoved your class materials in your backpack, locking the door behind you with a key from your professor. Rough hands ripped your backpack from your shoulders, knocking you off balance. An all-to-familiar scent filled you with panic.

“You made a big fucking mistake, Y/N,” Marcus growled next to your ear. Before you could react, his hand wrapped around your throat to slam you against the wall. The back of your head collided with the sheet rock, blurring your vision and sending a sharp pain through your skull. Your classmate slowly came into focus.

“You think flaunting that shitty little pack bond is gonna keep me from taking you for myself?” He was deranged, pupils blown wide and spit dripping down his chin.

“Marcus, please stop,” you pushed weakly against his wrist, tears stinging the back of your eyes.

“No! I know you want me! You are mine, omega, and I’ll make sure you forget all about that fucking pack.” His face turned red with the effort of keeping his voice down. He refused to be interrupted again. Your chest heaved, tears now streaming down your cheeks. Your mind was fuzzy from the pain. You couldn’t think straight. All of your thoughts turned to one person, so with every ounce of your strength you clasped both hands over your mating gland and you screamed.

“Hongjoong!”

The lobby of the computer science building was lined with large windows and plush armchairs. Seonghwa relaxed into the leather, scrolling on his phone while he and Hongjoong waited for you to finish in the lab.

“Sit down, she’ll be out soon.” Seonghwa repeated for the fourth time in the last ten minutes. Hongjoong paced in front of the omega, eyes glued to the door labelled ‘Students and Staff Members ONLY’.

“She’s late, Seonghwa. She’s never late, not without sending a text.” His fingers flexed by his sides, every nerve in his body on edge. He learned a long time ago to never ignore his instincts. “Something’s wrong.”

“You’re being paranoid,” the elder sighed, sparing the alpha a brief glance. Hongjoong glared at the door, the knot of dread in his stomach growing larger by the second.

“Fuck it,” the alpha stormed through the door, ignoring Seonghwa’s protests. The hallway split into two, forcing Hongjoong to stop.

“What is wrong with you?!” Seonghwa dug his fingers into the younger man’s shoulder.

“What room did Y/N say she was in?” His eyes flicked from one hall to the other, then to the placard on the wall pointing to different room numbers.

“I don’t –”

“Hongjoong!” His head snapped to the left, sprinting towards your voice with Seonghwa hot on his heels. Marcus slammed you into the wall again right as you came into view. He couldn’t hold back the growl that ripped from his throat, vision glazing over with red.

“Get the fuck away from her!” With his protective instincts on overdrive, Hongjoong didn’t even feel the sting of his knuckles connecting with Marcus’s cheekbone, knocking him to the floor. Hongjoong sat on his chest, locking his arms to his sides.

“Were we not fucking obvious enough for you, asshole?” Another hit landed on Marcus’s nose, blood pouring from his nostrils. Hongjoong grinned sadistically at the crunch of cartilage under his fist.

“You couldn’t figure it out by our scents, our clothes, my bite on her neck? Let me spell it out for you.” His hand engulfed Marcus’s forehead, yanking him up just to shove his head into the tile floor, the sound echoing down the empty hallway.

“She’s fucking taken.”

You collapsed to the floor once Marcus let you go, pulling your knees to your chest. Seonghwa dropped to your side, holding your face in both of his hands. You blinked slowly in an attempt to focus on him.

“Y/N? Baby, can you hear me?” His worried voice pushed past the fog surrounding your brain.

“Seonghwa?” You tipped forward, resting your forehead on the elder’s collarbone. Sobs wracked your body as you clung onto his shirt. He ran a hand through your hair to soothe you, but yanked it back at your yelp and the feeling of something warm and wet on his palm.

“Hongjoong,” Seonghwa stared in horror at the blood covering his hand. Your blood. The pack alpha was blinded by rage, still not satisfied with the damage done to Marcus’s face.

“Hongjoong, please forget about him. He doesn’t matter, Y/N is hurt. Hongjoong listen to me, god dammit! Hongjoong! Alpha, please, she’s bleeding.” Seonghwa struggled to fight back the panic bubbling in his stomach, voice growing more desperate the longer he was ignored.

“Hwa ‘m tired,” you mumbled into his chest.

“Nononono, you can’t fall asleep.” He forced you to sit up, gently patting your cheek to bring your gaze back to him. Seonghwa’s eyes darted between you and Hongjoong. “Y/N, I know you’re tired and I know you’re scared, but I need you to do something for me.”

“Hmm?”

“I need you to get Hongjoong’s attention. Say his name, call him alpha, anything to get him to stop.” You looked over at your alpha, confused by the snarl marring his pretty face.

“Hongjoong?” You whimpered at the sharp sting in your head from slightly raising your voice. He froze, fist reared back to strike, his anger clashing with his need to comfort you.

“Yes! That’s it, omega. Keep going, sweet girl,” Seonghwa encouraged, stroking your cheek with his thumb. You took a shaky breath.

“Hongjoong. Alpha, please.” In an instant, your classmate was forgotten, left lying on the floor barely holding onto consciousness. He stole you from Seonghwa’s grasp to pull you onto his lap.

“You’re okay. I’ve got you, alpha’s got you, it’s okay,” he rambled into the crown of your hair, wrapping you tightly in his arms and pressing you into his chest. Your nails dug into his bicep.

“She’s hurt.” He muttered, eyes snapping over to Seonghwa, the omega’s earlier words finally sinking in. “You said she’s bleeding, where?”

“The back of her head.” Hongjoong gingerly moved your hair, blanching at the large gash. He frantically searched for something to stop the bleeding, coming up empty. Frustrated, he tore the sleeve from his sweater, folding it in half to hold against the wound.

“Oh, my god!” An unknown voice shrieked from down the hall. Seonghwa tore his eyes from the man on the ground to see a woman with a hand clutched over her heart. “Oh my god, you assaulted those students!”

“Ma’am, please,” Seonghwa jumped to his feet, holding his hands up to show he meant no harm. He took note of the staff badge hanging from the woman’s belt loop. “We need you to call the police. Or call campus security and have them contact the police. Security knows the situation between the two students. Please trust me.”

“O-okay,” she hesitantly agreed. “What are their names?”

“Y/N L/N and Marcus, I don’t know his last name.” The staff member nodded, pulling out her phone and stepping further away from you. Seonghwa’s shoulders deflated. He sat next to you and Hongjoong, running his hand across your lower back.

“I knew something was wrong,” Hongjoong glowered at his elder. Seonghwa turned a sharp eye to the alpha.

“We are not talking about that right now,” he hissed, voice dropping low in his throat. They stared each other down in a heated silence until movement to their side caught their attention.

“This isn’t done, asshole.” Marcus slurred, spitting out a tooth. He tried to sit up, but flopped onto his back with a groan.

“Shut the fuck up,” Seonghwa and Hongjoong said in unison, the former sounding more tired than angry.

“Security, the police, and EMS are all on their way. I can watch him if you’d like to take her to the lobby,” the staff member offered after returning from her phone call.

“Thank you,” Seonghwa quickly bowed before trailing after you and Hongjoong. The alpha settled into one of the arm chairs with you in his lap, one hand still holding the sleeve to your head. You looked up at your fellow omega through the tears still clinging to your lashes.

“I don’t want to take an ambulance,” you sniffled, then winced again at the throbbing in the back of your skull.

“Y/N–”

“I’ll go to the hospital, Hwa, but the sirens will be too loud and the lights will be too bright and, and,” you faltered at the lump growing in your throat.

“Okay,” Seonghwa caved against your pleading, watery eyes. “I’ll call Yunho so he can come pick us up.” He moved a few feet away, growing impatient at the prolonged dial tone.

“Hey Seonghwa,” Mingi answered for Yunho.

“Where’s Yunho? I need him for something,” he avoided giving away any details. He really didn’t need three pissed off alphas on his hands.

“Uhh, I think he’s in the middle of a Valorant match. Why, what’s up?” Seonghwa rolled his eyes. Of course the only pack member with a license was preoccupied with a video game, of all things.

“Well he needs to turn it off. He needs to come pick us up from Y/N’s campus,” he insisted with a huff.

“Why, Seonghwa? What happened?” Mingi demanded, now on edge from how vague his elder was being.

“Nothing happened.” He was immediately contradicted by your yelp and frantic apologies from Hongjoong.

“Seonghwa.”

“Get the phone to Yunho, then I’ll tell you.” Mingi grumbled curses under his breath, annoyed by the negotiations. He ripped Yunho’s headphones off.

“Turn the game off, something happened to Y/N.” Any arguments from being interrupted mid-game died in Yunho’s throat. “You’re on speaker.”

“Yunho, you need to come pick us up from the computer science building on campus. Marcus attacked her. She’s bleeding and probably has a concussion,” Seonghwa quickly explained, pulling his phone away from his ear.

“He fucking what?!” Mingi shouted, loud enough that it drew Hongjoong’s attention from several feet away.

“We’re on our way,” Yunho stated after stealing his phone back.

“Please don’t bring the whole pack,” Seonghwa pleaded. “She doesn’t need to be crowded right now. Security is here, got to go.” He ended the call without waiting for an answer.

“Okay, what happened?” A very tired man with a “head of security” badge asked, looking between the three of you. Seonghwa stepped forward to recount the attack, seeing as you were fighting to stay awake and Hongjoong was still fuming. A female security guard approached you, keeping a bit of space to avoid agitation.

“I have gauze, if you’d like to use it for her head instead of a sleeve,” she offered, extending a hand with a small stack of clean gauze. Hongjoong eyed the officer warily, but accepted the offer, dropping the bloody sleeve to the seat next to him. After a few minutes, red and blue flashing lights stung your eyes. You hid in Hongjoong’s neck with a groan. Two pairs of EMTs entered the lobby. The pair with a stretcher were led to Marcus, while the others walked up to examine you.

“She’s not taking an ambulance,” Hongjoong snapped before they even opened their mouths.

“She really–”

“We’re going to the hospital, but we’re using our car.” The EMTs shared a look, one of them sighing heavily.

“Alright. Can I at least check on the wound?” Hongjoong didn’t even try to hide his displeasure, curling his lip back to show his teeth.

“Hongjoong, he’s just trying to do his job,” you vouched for the poor EMT.

“Fine.” The EMT pulled on gloves and kneeled behind you while his partner left to help with Marcus after a voice from his radio asked for backup.

“The bleeding has mostly stopped. It’s not too long, 6 or 7 centimeters from what I can see. They’ll probably staple it shut and check for a concussion at the hospital. Keep the gauze on it.” The EMT stood, grabbing his first aid bag and heading back to the ambulance, passing Mingi and Yunho on his way out.

“What happened?” Yunho asked as the two of them stormed over to you. He kneeled in front of you while Mingi sat on the arm of the chair directly behind you.

“The officer said Y/N can wait until tomorrow to give her statement due to her injury.” Seonghwa returned from talking to security and a cop. “How did you get here so quickly?”

“He drove fucking fast. I’ve never seen him that reckless, I thought I was gonna puke,” Mingi replied. Yunho shrugged at the flat glare from the omega.

“I was leaving the computer lab and he snuck up on me. It’s kinda fuzzy after I hit my head.” You slowly lifted your head from Hongjoong’s neck, fighting back the dizziness.

“Hey, don’t push yourself. Keep your head down if you’re not feeling well,” Yunho urged with a hand on your knee.

“I wanted to see you both.” You twisted around to look up at Mingi.

“Don’t move around like that, I’m trying to keep the cut covered.” Hongjoong turned you to face forward again. Mingi trailed his hand up your shoulders to rest on the back of your neck.

“Did he–” All five of you looked at the door that slammed open. The EMTs rolled the stretcher out with Marcus handcuffed to the rail, spewing profanities. Your alphas glared at him. Yunho moved into a crouch with his back to you. Marcus faltered under their intimidating stature, clenching his jaw and averting his eyes to his lap. The three of them felt an animalistic sense of pride and satisfaction at the other alpha’s submission.

“Serves him fucking right,” Mingi snickered at the blood and bruises covering your classmate’s face.

“He deserves worse,” Yunho clicked his tongue. He turned to you again once the stretcher was out the door.

“I could have kept going, but she needed me. My omega’s health is more important than that shithead,” Hongjoong sneered. “Besides, killing him would have been too merciful. He can rot in prison.” The taller alphas hummed in agreement.

“Let’s go, she needs to see a doctor,” Seonghwa ordered, herding the alphas up and out the door with you still in Hongjoong’s arms.

“Should one of us take her?” Mingi asked, pointing to the leader’s hands. “You’re bleeding, too. And your hands are shaking.”

“No.” His voice was strained, face and muscles still tense from the slew of emotions going through his mind. He and Mingi got in the backseat, sitting you between them. The car fell to a heavy silence, only interrupted whenever someone shook you awake. Hongjoong opened the door before Yunho even put the car in park.

“I’m going to call the others. I’ll be in soon. Please behave,” Seonghwa urged the alphas.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them in check,” Yunho called over his shoulder. They walked through the sliding doors of the ER. You were whisked away in a wheelchair almost immediately for a CT scan. Hongjoong’s leg bounced impatiently while they sat in the waiting room.

“Mr. Kim?” A nurse announced from the door leading to the patient rooms. He shot out of the chair, looking at her expectantly. “Oh, I’m sorry. Y/N is still being evaluated. You can’t see her yet. I’m bringing you back for your hands. She should be ready by the time you’re done.”

“Fine.”

Out by the car, Seonghwa called Jongho. He was the most reliable in terms of answering phone calls. Honestly, he was surprised that anyone picked up when he called Yunho.

“I hope you’re calling to explain why Mingi and Yunho left the dorms looking pissed,” Jongho skipped the greeting to get right to the point.

“Yeah, is everyone there?” Seonghwa asked with a sigh, tired and fighting back a headache.

“We’re here, you’re on speaker,” San chimed in. The eldest launched into a hasty retelling of everything that happened in the past hour.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with that guy?” Wooyoung swore once Seonghwa was finished.

“Is there anything you need us to do?” Yeosang asked.

“Get a nest set up in the living room. I have a feeling she’s going to want all of us near her tonight,” Seonghwa requested. After confirming, they exchanged goodbyes so he could check on you.

No one was in the waiting room, spiking his anxiety. Another nurse spotted him from behind the front desk and led him to your room. You sat on the bed between Hongjoong’s legs, your back to his chest and his arms wrapped securely around your waist. The pack alpha’s hands were wrapped in bandages. Mingi and Yunho stood on either side of the bed.

“Hey, the doctor’s coming in soon to go over their scan results,” Yunho informed him as he approached the bed, sitting on the edge on the same side as Mingi.

“What scans did they do?”

“CT and MRI for Y/N, x-ray for Hongjoong,” Yunho pointed between the two of you.

“Y/N, baby, are you still awake?” Seonghwa squeezed your knee. Your eyes stayed closed, but you nodded and mumbled ‘mhm’.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Lee,” a woman in navy scrubs walked in while reading something on a clipboard. “Hongjoong, you’re lucky you didn’t get any fractures in your hand. Keep the abrasions clean and you’ll be just fine.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Hongjoong agreed through gritted teeth.

“Y/N has a minor concussion. As for the cut, I’ll need to put a few staples in so it heals properly.” Dr. Lee placed the clipboard on a counter, thanking the nurse that brought in the staple gun. She gently parted your hair and cleaned the excess blood from your skin. She warned you before she began putting in the staples. You winced at each staple, making the alphas tense up in order to stay calm. A muscle in Yunho’s jaw twitched and the other two stared daggers at the doctor.

“Okay, we’re done. I know it hurts, but you did wonderfully,” she reassured with a pat to your shoulder. Hongjoong suppressed a growl. “You’ll need to have them removed in two weeks. You can either come back here or go to your primary doctor. One of the nurses will stop by soon to go over your discharge paperwork and give a packet for care instructions.”

“Thank you,” Seonghwa nodded to the doctor before she left for her next patient.

Finally, after forty-five minutes, you were back at the dorms. Hongjoong reluctantly let Seonghwa and Yeosang bring you to the latter’s room to help you change into your pajamas. As soon as you returned to the living room, which was covered with pillows and blankets, Hongjoong pulled you back into his lap. The betas took turns checking on you, giving you soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. Everyone settled down around you, most going on their phones since it wasn’t even ten o’clock yet. You drifted off to sleep, safe and surrounded by your pack.

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here @corgilover20 @eastjonowhere @bookswillfindyouaway

Series Taglist: @popcatx0 @m00njinnie @awkward-fucking-thing @fr34k4c1dr41n @nchhuhi @pixie0627 @bby-boo4u @queen-thiccness

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axl-ion · 2 months ago

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Every Merc and their surprising skills:

+ Miss Pauling and Zhanna

Scout:

Scout has the reputation of being a rather simple Merc, kinda a little silly guy at that. Maybe some street smarts too.

He often surprises people with his visual memory tho, being able to identify places he's been to with the most basic of clues like some piece of road, a garden and a fence. He's also great at identifying paintings.

Soldier:

Soldier already has the reputation of being the Jack of all traits on the base, at least when it comes to jobs. He's got many skills that he applies from time to time, but only if really needed.

What the others found surprising about him is his orientation skill. As someone with a helmet covering his eyes, being partially deaf since he's not protecting his ears from the explosions, one wouldn't assume he navigates himself all that well. But he's can do that. He can lead you from the middle of the desert to civilisation in no time as long as you can run after him. Some suspect he's got a nose of a dog, others that he can use the Earth's magnetic field to find the way.

Pyro:

While Soldier is a man of almost no surprises when it comes to skills, Pyro is the opposite. So mysterious that any skill revealed feels like "Damn, they can do that?"

Pyro has majorly surprised her colleagues with the knowledge of animal care. From horses and dogs to frogs, lizards and even bugs, Pyro knows how to take care of many of such critters to various extent.

Engineer:

Being very problem solving oriented guy, Dell has earned the reputation of being the practical person. As such he's mostly expected to know a lot about technology and science. As a country boy most of his colleagues also assign him knowledge about farming and love of music.

The biggest surprise when it comes to skills that came from Engineer are his skills connected to working with leather. Even tho he's a farm boy and as expected, has slaughtered some animals in the past for meat, nobody really expected him to know how to make things out of leather and take care of it. He's even got a special toolkit and everything, the only thing he lacks is a station for processing raw leather.

Demoman:

Similarly to Pyro, this man is almost always a surprise, because nobody expects much of him. Due to his alcoholism, they set the bar of expectations pretty low for Demoman, only raising it after learning he's got multiple jobs.

Demoman's unexpected skill is definitely vexillology - the knowledge of flags. He's very well educated on both the country flags, but also pirate flags, interesting flags of smaller areas and even some very obscure groups. He even made a couple designs for their team flag, but he's keeping them locked in a drawer.

Heavy:

Heavy's most expected skills are connected to survival and guns. Guns because he's the Heavy Weapons Guy, survival because even when he's not talking about it to anyone, everyone can tell he's went through some rough times in the past. Also he has to deal with people automatically assuming he's a meathead pretty often, which doesn't help.

After surprising folks with his PhD in Russian literature, he also surprised them with his knowledge of some musical instruments, like trombone, harmonica or even some very basic stuff on balalaika (last two he got from a port in Russia as a kid, from a lonesome fisherman, in exchange for a cigarette, which while Heavy is not very proud of, he was very capable of stealing).

Medic:

Often regarded as the most one-trick pony guy on the base and just a crazy scientist, he's also a constant surprise. The difference between him, Pyro and Demo tho is that, when he's about to reveal some surprising skill, others tend to run away. They don't feel like potentially risking it all.

After much hesitation, since he's pretty ashamed of this one, he did eventually reveal he enjoys and knows quite a lot about plumbing. It's kinda a family thing, where few of his uncles were plumbers so he kinda picked up on that. The thing is, he doesn't believe himself to be very good at it, but he's actually pretty decent and least afraid of get his hands dirty.

Sniper:

Regarded as the bushman, an outbacker, whatever you want to call him, for the most part he's got survival skills. And he's very proud of them. From recognising dangerous creatures, to foraging. Animal care? Yeah, he knows that too. He's got all the skills to be self reliant and dwell in the desert.

While he hid his knowledge of saxophone, the most surprising skill he revealed was just how and when he could fall asleep. Sitting up? Yes. Standing up? Did that once. He can essentially do it on command and has abrupted an annoying fight in the car by scaring the living shit out of everyone by taking a quick nap behind the wheel. Aside from that, it was rafting.

Spy:

Jack of all traits of espionage and so on, Spy has everything he needs for any job of his qualifications. Poisons, arranging the murder scene, disguise etc. He's also a polyglot and has good listening memory. Reading people as open books.

What Mercs found surprising about him, was plant knowledge. He is very knowledgeable in plant symbolism, plant care, what flowers go into a bouquet for what occasion, how many. Sure, many think he's a flirt or used to be one, but it still kinda surprises them when he points at a random plant and is like "Ah, a [insert Latin name], commonly known as [insert name], from the genus [something]. Outdoor plant, needs to be planted into a very sunny area, no..."

Miss Pauling:

Regarded as the most skilled as she was the Administrator's helper for years. From destroying evidence to more mundane stuff like making a basic phonecall, she has all the skills needed to get by.

What surprised both her and the Mercs is her natural ability to tell when it's going to be raining. Maybe she smells the chemical change in the air, maybe it's in her bones, but all and all, somehow, she always knows when it's going to rain.

Zhanna (my bbg):

As the last person to engage with the Red team before everything came to a head, nobody had really any expectations of what she's like and what skills she has. For the most part it was assumed she has most of Heavy's skills, except the expertise in miniguns.

Zhanna has the ability to repeat information word for word. She may not understand the information, but she'll parrot it to the beat. This pairs well with her love for films, having a big library of film quotes in her head.

#tf2 #tf2 headcanons #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 engineer #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 zhanna #tf2 miss pauling #headcannons #axelion headcannon post

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xdhluvrs · 4 months ago

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Young, Ashamed, and Foolish (pt. I) ⋆₊˚⊹ ࿔⋆

Pairing: non-idol kwak jiseok/gaon x Reader Tags: classmate au, academic rival au, afab reader, jiseok and reader are med school students, jiseok pov (for pt. I) Warnings: nsfw (at the end), angst (it will be resolved i promise), possessiveness/yandere!jiseok if you squint, jiseok is struggling, reader is struggling, suggestive content, solo masturbation (m), more in pt. II Word Count: 5.2k Synopsis: Kwak Jiseok, esteemed second-year medical student constantly battling with self-doubt and exhaustion, is drowning. Though admired by his peers as one of the school’s ��perfect students,” he remains haunted by a past interaction with the only other person who shares that title - a classmate he once regrettably dismissed too quickly. As Jiseok navigates the challenges of medical school, his fascination with her only deepens, revealing an unsettling truth: what began as admiration has given way to something far more consuming. When a conversation overheard by chance upends what he thought he knew about her, Jiseok is faced with a choice - continue watching from the sidelines or finally bridge the distance he had put between them.

🍇's note: Hi guys! This is my first fic, and it's honestly so exciting and surreal to finally post it somewhere. I know that it seems really angsty but I promise that I have some great stuff planned for the next part, so please stick around if you enjoyed! Any feedback, questions, comments, suggestions, etc. are always appreciated! <3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

Medical school wasn’t for everyone, and even though he was entering his second year, Jiseok still wasn’t sure if it was for him. Growing up with a strong interest in science and a desire to help others made human medicine an obvious choice to pursue, but that didn’t mean it was easy. Majoring in biochemistry felt hard enough during his undergraduate years, and now he had taken on a work load almost double that of what it used to be. However, Jiseok wasn’t a stranger to hard work. The desire to give up, to be free of the constant pressure of new information and assignments, still existed in his mind. But he was able to lock the feeling away within his heart, to compartmentalize, just as he had done in his first four years of college.

Although this was an effective way to stay on top of school, the process of locking his feelings away caused him to neglect other aspects of his life. His beloved guitar that once received attention every day was now only held for thirty minute intervals once a week. The friends that he had made in college were rarely texted, and even less so visited by him. He tried to tell himself that this was okay, that it would all be worth it, that once he received his M.D. there would be time to pick back up the things that he loved. But there were still three more years of school, and then his residency could be three or more years, and then what if he needed to complete a fellowship too? How old would he be by the time he was done? Would he have spent his entire twenties in schooling? Was that something that he was okay with?

Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this, Jiseok murmured to himself while brushing his teeth listlessly. It was 6:04 in the morning, just a little over thirty minutes after his first alarm had gone off. The autumn chill left him feeling particularly listless in the mornings, but his desire to succeed was stronger than his desire to stay comfortably stationed in bed. The man looking back at him in the mirror was clearly disheveled, dressed in a black Green Day shirt and oversized sweatpants. His frizzy, bleached hair was concerningly untamed, something which he blamed his friend for. Seungmin was a childhood friend of Jiseok, and was extremely hard to deny. When he called Jiseok over the summer asking if he could bleach his hair for cosmetology school, Jiseok didn’t hesitate to say yes and help him out. However, it would be a lie to say that Jiseok was prepared for the challenges and responsibilities that came with having bleached hair. He cringed as he brushed his hair, remembering how terrible it looked after the first attempt of bleaching it. Thankfully by the time the new semester had started Jiseok’s hair had become more manageable, and he no longer lived in fear of it. After changing into his ceil blue scrubs and eating a quick breakfast, he grabbed his coat and exited his apartment, beginning the short and dark walk to campus.

Classes didn’t start until 8:00, but Jiseok still tried to arrive at campus at least an hour early every day so that he could get a head start on reviewing the upcoming content. Despite his internal struggles, Jiseok was highly regarded by his peers in medical school, and even considered by some to be one of the two “perfect” students at their university. Walking into the campus coffee shop, Jiseok inadvertently made eye contact with the second “perfect” student, a common, painful occurrence in his daily routine. Painful only because of his own actions - his own shortcomings. She sat in her usual spot - the counters by the window and held a mug of her usual drink - a spiced latte - beside her. I wonder how long she’s been here, he thought to himself, feeling slightly inadequate. After placing his order, Jiseok slowly made his way to a booth before pulling out a laptop from his bag and beginning his routine. From his seat he could barely see the back of her head from across the shop, which he watched rock from side to side over the span of the morning (or something adjacent). Although it had been over a year since they had first met, their interactions with each other were generally limited to the brief eye contact they shared each morning. As he mindlessly scrolled through his emails, he couldn’t help but reminisce about his first meeting with her, and how things might have been now if that night had gone differently.

When Jiseok first met her, he didn’t like her. Orientation Night for first years had begun only an hour ago and yet she was already being swarmed by other students, drawn to her like moths to a flame. Her smile was bright and friendly, and she spoke kindly with sincerity to everyone around her. Without even speaking to her, Jiseok had already overheard everything that he needed to know. She was a perfect student during her undergraduate, and had been a part of several research groups and student organizations. She was accepted into multiple prestigious medical schools, but for some reason chose to go here, probably because they offered her the greatest scholarship, Jiseok thought to himself. He chose to dislike her because he didn’t understand her. It was obvious to him that she was someone who had never had to try that hard to be exceptional. It was so obvious to him because it was so opposite to who he felt he was: someone who was constantly trying hard just to keep up with the average. At that moment he made the decision to distance himself from her, as he knew himself well enough to understand that they were in completely different circles. Hours passed, and after listening to several boring speeches and making small talk with some of the other incoming MS1s, Jiseok decided it was time to take his leave from the event. It’s not that he wasn’t excited to be starting this new chapter in his life, but his feelings of doubt and uncertainty had quickly outweighed the excitement, making him feel distant from those around him. He began to walk silently towards his apartment complex, internally criticizing his past interactions with his peers, wishing that he had said something different, or wishing that he had said nothing at all. In the midst of his thoughts, Jiseok heard the chatter of other students who were still nearby, but continued to make his way further away from campus until he heard a slightly louder exclamation. Surely they weren’t talking to him, so he kept with his pace until-

“Hey, wait a second!”

After being certain that the voice was in fact being directed towards him, Jiseok stopped in his tracks and turned around, coming face to face with the person he had so quickly chosen to dislike.

“Oh, sorry…” He trailed off, making eye contact with the girl and then quickly breaking it, “I didn’t know you were talking to me.” He involuntarily swallowed, making a mental note of his dry mouth. He felt guilty knowing that the person he had been trying to avoid had gone out of their way to speak with him.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry to have shouted at you like that. I just realized that I hadn’t gotten to meet you yet.” She said with a polite smile, before introducing herself to him. Jiseok obviously already knew her name, but proceeded to introduce himself, adding a brief “nice to meet you.” As he spoke, his gaze once again reached hers, and he immediately realized why the world around him seemed to be so enthralled by her. Although the sun had set hours ago, her eyes still twinkled, perhaps from the dimly lit streetlights, or perhaps from something faintly glowing within her. While looking at her, Jiseok felt as if time had stopped, or at least slowed down significantly. He felt his heart beating hard against his chest, and did his best to appear normal and unfazed by the sudden conversation.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Jiseok” she said, with a slightly larger smile this time, “Tonight was pretty long, right? Are you headed home now?” She casually asked him. Something about how she spoke to him made him feel that he too was in fact special, and worth spending time on the way that she was. It was almost intimate, he thought, the way that she maintained her eye contact with him, and the way that she was able to speak his name so easily. Was this a skill she had been born with? Or was it carefully crafted and improved from years of practice? Jiseok didn’t have the luxury to think about the possibilities, as he had to quickly formulate a response to her before too much time had passed.

“Yeah, I guess. It must be hard being the center of the attention” he mindlessly retorted. The harsh words quickly escaped his mouth, like they needed to be freed from his body, as if Jiseok would somehow feel better with them outside of himself. His hand involuntarily reached to cover his mouth, almost like his body was shocked that he had said something so insensitive to someone he didn’t even know.

“Oh,” she paused, briefly making an expression that was indecipherable to Jiseok, “Is that how it seemed to you?” She asked, reverting back to her polite expression. Why did I say that? Jiseok immediately felt guilty, and scrambled to try and repair the damage he felt he had caused, accidentally biting his lip in the process.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that” he stammered, “I think I’m just really worn out from today…” He trailed off, with a pained expression, unable to look the girl in her eyes anymore. Why did he lash out like that? This wasn’t the type of person that Jiseok wanted to be, yet he was already making such a poor impression of himself before the school year had even started. He felt the stuffy heat of shame rise throughout his face, and felt the taste of blood pollute his mouth as he looked down at his shoes. Jiseok had always been one to feel things strongly, which he had always found to be a curse rather than a blessing, this situation being one to further his point.

“Don’t worry about it!” She started, a little too quickly, “It’s totally fine. I’m feeling pretty worn out too” she chuckled softly, feigning unbotheredness. Jiseok easily saw through this though, as being one that feels things strongly meant that it was obvious to him when the people around him were not “totally fine.” Although she maintained her pleasant mask, he could see that the twinkle in her eyes now more closely resembled unshed tears.

“Well, um, I guess I’ll let you go now. Goodnight Jiseok!” She spoke awkwardly, as she turned away quickly, trying to end their interaction as soon as she possibly could.

“Goodnight…” He spoke past the lump in his throat, trying to keep his voice from trembling. She continued to walk away from him, leaving no evidence that she had heard his feeble good night, not that Jiseok felt like it would have changed anything. The desire to leave that he had experienced before interacting with her was nothing compared to what he felt now. He needed to get away - from everyone and everything. To be by himself would allow him to decompress and recalibrate, which would at least temporarily improve his mood. The pain in his throat became more apparent as he quickly started walking back to his apartment, and he still felt as if his heart was going to break out of his chest due to how hard it was beating.

Why? Questions of “Why?” and “Why not?” plagued his head as he tried to forget about the situation he had just undoubtedly fumbled. The fifteen-minute walk felt more like an hour of torment, but finally Jiseok arrived back to his haven. He immediately undressed and laid face-down on his bed, letting out a loud and pained noise that was hopefully muffled by his comforter. Afterwards, Jiseok tried to normalize, running through the steps of his evening routine and eventually bringing himself into bed…

“Jiseok…? Hello…?”

Jiseok nearly flew out of his booth at the sound of her voice suddenly addressing him. Standing before him was the girl that he had just spent the last half hour reminiscing about, looking somewhat confused at his startled response.

“Huh? I mean what? I’m sorry, I-” Jiseok began, surprised by how loud his voice sounded inside the relatively quiet cafe.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry to have interrupted you.” She said politely, before setting down a warm mug on his table. “The barista called your name several times, but I didn’t think that you heard them. I was on my way out anyway, so I thought I’d bring this to you.” She gently nudged the drink towards him, with a slight smile.

“Ah, Thank you so much. I must have been really invested in my studies.” He spoke, chuckling shyly and internally cringing at the words leaving his mouth. He watched as her eyes moved slowly across his face, and then to his laptop screen, which clearly displayed his email inbox, and no other open tabs or applications. Jiseok’s face grew slightly pink, realizing that he had just been caught in a fib, yet he didn’t say anything to try and cover his tracks. He secretly hoped that she would call him out, that she would gently laugh, or even that she would try and change the subject out of pity. Anything just to prolong this interaction with her would be a positive for Jiseok. But instead, all she did was slightly raise her eyebrow - a habit of hers that Jiseok had noticed, but wasn’t quite sure of it’s meaning - before saying a quick goodbye and walking away. He watched her silhouette slowly disappear through the window of the shop, which was somewhat obscured due to morning sun, before retreating back into his internal world that he had been absorbed in.

To Jiseok’s surprise, the beginning of the first semester was incredibly mundane. Sure, the content and workload was insane, but the social aspect of medical school was much easier for him to navigate than he had expected. The events which occurred on the night of orientation had left him exceedingly nervous to interact with his peers, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, everyone seemed to like Jiseok. Sure, he was nice enough to everyone and did his best to act thoughtfully and be considerate of those around him, but it still didn’t seem to make any sense. In an even greater shock, Jiseok placed top of his class at the end of his first semester. And, this time not to his surprise, no one other than the most capable woman he knew placed second to him, leading to the two of them being admired and respected by their student body, and earning the nicknames of “perfect students”. He secretly hoped that this would bring two of them closer together, now that they had both achieved such a feat and had been recognized for it. He had desperately wanted to right his wrongs, to fix what he felt he had broken, or at least damaged to some extent. However, Jiseok felt too nervous to speak to her by himself, and she seemed to show no interest in approaching him either. The longer he went without talking to her, the harder he felt that it would be to change that, and opted instead to observe her from a distance with the rest of his other admiring classmates.

Through his observations, Jiseok quickly noticed patterns in how she spoke with her peers - likely unbeknownst to them. Although she was kind and genuine, she was also extremely private, at least when Jiseok was within earshot. She seemed to keep personal opinions to herself, which was confusing as he doubted she had any hidden, controversial beliefs. He knew that she didn’t actually listen to the same music that her classmates liked, and he knew that she actually did get nervous when it came to presenting in front of the class. In addition to this, she was an incredible listener, and had the ability to make anyone feel interesting - as he had experienced first hand from her on the night of their first meeting. Unfortunately for Jiseok, the more he learned about her, the more he slowly began to fall into her trap.

He knew she was beautiful the night that he met her - anyone could see that - and overtime he discovered that her beauty was so much more than skin deep, ast she was genuinely a good human being. The way she seemed untouchable, like a well-kept secret, was so upsettingly irresistible to Jiseok. He selfishly wanted to be special, to know and truly grasp who she was as a person and why she had become that way. Had he initially been wrong about her? Was there a chance that she was more like him than he had first thought? Probably not, but thoughts of her drifted across his tired mind, and became a small source of comfort for Jiseok as he faced the challenges of medical school.

Vrrrp! A small vibration from his phone interrupted Jiseok’s train of thought - it was 7:45. So much for studying this morning, he thought to himself, before packing up his laptop and briskly walking across the courtyard to class. Thankfully he made it to class on time, and his usual seat in the lecture hall had been saved for him by a few of his peers.

Another uneventful series of morning lectures had passed, and Jiseok slowly exited the lecture hall to make his way to one of the various lounge rooms to enjoy his lunch. Several friendly classmates asked if he had wanted to review together over their lunch breaks, but Jiseok has opted out today, as he craved some alone time before having to spend another five hours taking notes in the auditorium. Walking up to the first empty classroom’s door he could find, Jiseok placed his hand on the knob and began to twist it before -

“So I’ve been meaning to ask- how are you and your boyfriend? Are you planning on taking him to the Winter Formal?”

He heard the voice of who he assumed was one of her close friends, or at least he hoped that was the case if they felt comfortable asking her such a personal question. It was no surprise to Jiseok, or likely anyone, that she had a boyfriend. However, that didn’t keep him from wincing slightly any time it was mentioned. Not only did he flub his first meeting with her, but she also had an insufferable boyfriend. Well, he could never admit to that, but the jealousy and disdain he felt towards this man that he’d never even met was enough proof of his true feelings. Her boyfriend didn’t attend the same program as Jiseok, but with minimal time and effort he was able to learn about him by word of their gossiping classmates. Sure, the guy was tall and handsome, and maybe nice too. But Jiseok was confident that this man would never really understand her the way that he himself could. He’d never understand how she thinks, how she carefully chooses her words and responses, and surely he’d never truly understand her motivations and dreams. But Jiseok could. And he would be more than eager to prove that if her heart didn’t already belong to another man. He would do anything to support her, to care for her, to please her in any way imaginable…

Jiseok internally smacked himself before allowing himself another thought. The prolonged silence from the other room was making his heart and mind race - Why was she taking so long to respond? He so desperately wanted to peek through the thin window of the door, just to see what type of expression she was wearing. Say that you two are doing great. Say that you will take your stupid boyfriend with you to the Winter Formal, Jiseok thought to himself as he tried to resist the painful creep of jealousy that he’d worked so hard to contain.

“Oh…” He heard her voice waver, “We actually broke up last summer. Sorry, I didn’t really tell anyone.”

Jiseoks froze, no, the entire world around him froze. What? How is that even possible? How did I not notice? A flood of thoughts rushed through his mind before he snapped back to the present moment and tore his hand from the door knob. He felt his pulse heavy through his body, numbing out the continued commotion from the conversation he had been eavesdropping upon. Despite the shock he was feeling, Jiseok feigned normalcy before calmly walking down the hallway to an actually vacant classroom and seating himself for what he had originally intended to do: eat his lunch. This was going to be okay - he tried to reassure himself. He had done this before, he knew how to compartmentalize, how to stop feeling or thinking when things felt too big. Jiseok just had to make it through class, and then he would allow himself to think about his newly gathered knowledge. After silently recollecting himself, he hesitantly took a bite into his packed lunch and accidentally bit the inside of his lip in the process. The metallic taste of blood quickly overwhelmed his tastes, but Jiseok fought to ignore this, and instead swallowed down his heavy feelings alongside a few unshed tears.

The next five hours of class were a blur. Jiseok, who was usually a stellar student and active participant in class, felt nearly catatonic after the events of his break. Once he had finally been released, he quickly said his goodbyes to his peers before rushing out of the building and beginning the trek back home. All I have to do is make it home, he internally repeated to himself, praying that it would sooth his nerves until-

“Jiseok! Wait!”

Fuck. Everything that he had been trying so hard to lock away was at risk of slipping through his fingers. Feeling like a deer caught in the headlights, Jiseok slowly turned around to face the one person he couldn’t bear to speak to.

“Hey, sorry… one second.” She spoke as if she was slightly out of breath, likely from trying to keep up with him as he attempted his escape from campus. Pushing a stray piece of hair out of her face, she continued “I know the PBL presentation isn’t due for a couple weeks, but I still wanted to get your contact information.”

What? Jiseok was puzzled, and could only bring himself to barely meet her gaze and hope that she would elaborate. He had just presented his last PBL case last week. What was she talking about? Why would he be doing another one- Oh. Memories from the first week of classes uncovered themselves within his head. The small group PBL presentation would be due at the end of the semester, and be worth about 25% of his final grade in his Clinical Investigations course. It must have been addressed in class today, but had been far too preoccupied to pay any attention.

“Oh, yeah…” Jiseok said quietly, before shakily reaching into his pocket and grabbing his phone. “I, um, here. You can put in your number” He said, holding his phone out to her general direction, painfully aware of his awkward behavior. Thankfully, she seemed unfazed, and gently took his phone from his hands.

“Perfect, thank you. It seems like you’re in a bit of a hurry, so I’ll let you go.” She said, handing the phone back to him after sending a quick text to herself from his number. “Though, I would really appreciate it if we could try and find some time to get together and make a plan this week.”

“Yeah, of course.” He said before adding a quick “good bye” and “thank you” and heading off.

You can do this Jiseok, he told himself while trying to appear relaxed as he walked away from her. As soon as he was certain that he had escaped her line of sight though, his composure dissipated and he quickened his pace. After practically running home to his apartment, he was filled with a slight sense of relief as he finally slammed the front door behind him, locking himself safely away from the rest of the world. Jiseok grasped his face between his hands, before taking a deep breath and sliding back against his door,grounding himself. Despite his attempts at deep breathing, Jiseok still felt anything but calm, and decided that the next step would be to try and wash away the burdensome feelings he held. He stood up shakily, discarding his bag on the couch, before slowly trudging to his small apartment bathroom. Although the water pressure wasn’t ideal, Jiseok was always able to get the temperature practically scalding, something that usually helped him unwind after long days. He shed his clothes, throwing them to who-knows-where, before stepping into the stall and submerging himself in the warm water. He exhaled audibly, finally feeling some peace after being on edge for the past few hours. While washing himself, Jiseok allowed his mind to wander and begin the long process of decompressing the events of today. Not only was she single now, but she would also be an integral piece in Jiseok’s academic success for the fall semester. Observing from afar would no longer be a plausible option - it was time that he addressed his true feelings about her.

I want her, he thought to himself, and immediately felt repulsed by how easy it had been to admit. This feeling was something he thought he had tucked away - something he had locked up and buried, hoping that it would never find the surface again. Sure, Jiseok wasn’t a complete stranger to intimacy - he had been an active participant in a handful of casual relationships during his undergraduate years - but medical school had left him drained and with little time to spend on himself, let alone another person. The stress of school was enough to dampen his sex drive, and the only person he was remotely interested in had been in a committed relationship. However, that was no longer the case… and this revelation threatened to have Jiseok burst at the seams. The hot air and steam began to feel suffocating to him, and as an additional hit, he felt his dick twitch with need. Surely this was okay, wasn’t it? Not only would she never know, but it also would never affect her. Even better that she was single now, too.. There was no other person occupying her time, occupying her mind, her body…

Fuck, this is so wrong, he thought to himself, bringing his hand to forehead. He felt his face crinkle up in disgust as he became more and more aware of his growing arousal. However, the shame that ran through his core was now being outshined by his impending need for release. No, he could still pull himself back together, just turn off the shower and go to bed, pretend none of this had ever happened…

Fuck it, Jiseok leaned forward against his shower wall, holding himself with his left arm and letting the hot water pour over his back. He bit his lip to no avail, unable to hold back a moan as he finally grasped himself. He had crossed a line, and lost the battle with himself - but the pleasure he felt was too agonizingly enjoyable to stop. He let out a soft sigh, his jaw going completely slack, as he began to move his hand, basking in the slight relief after how painfully hard he had become. Closing his eyes, she appeared so clearly in his mind, and before he knew it he was lost in the fantasies of her that he had so effortlessly created. Her tantalizing smile as she began to undress in front of him, the warmth of her body as she climbed on top of him, and the coolness of her fingertips as she traced the freckles across his body. It was too tame though, and before he knew it he was imagining her legs wrapped snugly around his neck, holding him in place as she pleasured herself against him. It was visceral to touch himself like this, to fuck his own hand wishing that it were her. Would he lay back and watch while she took the lead? Or would he be draped over her, hard at work in pursuit of her enjoyment? Jiseok cringed at the obscene words and sounds falling from his mouth, but a small part of him was turned on by how pathetic he was acting. As he felt himself reaching his peak, he picked up his pace, relentlessly jacking himself off as he imagined how she would look taking him. All he could do was say her name, quietly at first, but soon becoming loud sobs as he hastily finished.

For a brief moment, Jiseok felt blissful, coming down on the sweet waves of pleasure that he had so desperately craved. However, after finally opening his eyes, a sharp wave of sickness flooded through his being as he watched the evidence of his crime wash down the shower drain. I’m disgusting, he thought to himself, moving directly under the running water, hoping that it would somehow cleanse him of the actions he committed. Tears hotter than the water from the shower head ran down his face as he cried silently, staring down at his feet. After allowing himself a brief moment longer to ache, Jiseok reluctantly turned off his shower and dried himself off before changing into a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. Despite everything he had learned about the importance of nutrition in his metabolism course, he couldn’t bring himself to eat dinner, the shame leaving him slightly nauseated.

Everything would be the same as it had always been. Sure, he was going to be working one-on-one with her for the next few weeks, but after that it would be as if nothing had ever happened between the two of them. And, nothing had happened between the two of them - at least, not to her knowledge. Jiseok repeated these thoughts to himself like affirmations, hoping that they would somehow become true if he just continued to focus on them. After mindlessly clicking through Anki review decks and allowing his hair to air-dry, Jiseok finally crawled into bed. Tomorrow will be a good day, he tried to convince himself, ignoring the pangs of guilt and uncertainty that he felt in his chest. Everything would be the same, right?

#gaon x reader #kwak jiseok x reader #gaon smut #kwak jiseok smut #xdinary heroes x reader #xdinary heroes smut #c🍇#xdinary heroes

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perisexpeoplebullshit · 2 months ago

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i will drop kayfabe really quick - i think it's inappropriate as fuck for perisex people to use asab (assigned sex at birth) or casab (corrective or coercive assigned sex at birth) and while i am aware that you cannot "stop" people from doing whatever the fuck they like, i like to pretend that if i explain myself really well, people will have the empathy, sympathy and compassion required to make simple changes to their vocabulary.

because asab was termed as such by the medical practitioners mutilating our bodies in the name of normalcy and science. we are referred to as "a societal emergency" by surgeons because of our ambiguous genitalia or mix of sex characteristics.

and casab was our attempt at making new language when trans people decided that asab = observed sex at birth and populated it like crazy.

if this is confusing: if you are observed a sex at birth, they do nothing. if they have to assign you a sex, they correct you until you fit that assignment.

we came up with corrective assignment because that placed more emphasis on what the "ASSIGNED" part of assigned sex is.

i know it seems complicated but i promise that it isn't.

but if you're pretty sure you didn't get corrected medically, you weren't fucking assigned a sex. you were just looked at and deemed normal. not all intersex people have an assigned sex. the "assigned" sex you see in these old med textbooks is talking about the literal process of IGM (infant genital mutilation) and HRT (hormone replacement therapy) as well as blockers, because it was determined that you were abnormal and required sexual correction.

also? "i'm afab! i'm amab!" no, you're not. i mean, unless you're undergoing medical intervention to correct your intersex condition?

the correct use is "i was afab" or "i was amab" because it is a course of action(s) that happened to you, not a freshly printed laminated label they slap to your fucking forehead.

an assigned sex is active, an observed sex is passive.

i don't think many people will listen to this at all, and i do think our language has been so over-written that trying to get people to stop misappropriating terms is a lost cause. but just fyi, i'm intersex, and every single time someone says "i'm assigned sex at birth!" i go "oh yay i didn't know there were any other intersex people here!!!" and if you can feel things like shame and embarrassment then maybe be careful about what you're saying around other people

i have met people who use asab, and i have said "what do you think that means" and i have come away from conversations with people who now know more about the world, and that's great, but i'm tired and google is fucking free and how the FUCK are you taking "assignment of sex" from a book full of pictures of mutilated intersex infants and going hmm... i think this is for me! like... the colonizer jumped out idfk

and like, if you didn't know, you didn't know, right. we all learn and unlearn, all the time. but if you're not open to that then i can't help you. no amount of pleading or being nice or fucking painstakingly breaking everything down step by fucking step will not get you to listen anyways. so if you're angry that my tone is aggressive, consider perhaps the several decades of bullshit i have dealt with on the topic of my body and then consider that i might be entitled to that grief.

here's the book, by the way.

Neonates with Abnormal Genital Development Assigned the Female Sex: Parent Counseling 1994

"The assigned sex at birth based on the external genitalia of the newborn and the influence of the conviction of the parents that the child belongs to the assigned sex (Roeske & Banet, 1972; Money & lewis, 1979; Slijper, 1983)."

Moeny and Lewish 1979? oh, like John Money? if you don't know who john money is i never want to hear another word out of you about intersex people point blank. you're gonna learn today, if you don't already know.

"A team consisting of an endocrinologist, an urologist, a surgeon and a psychologist, all specialized in pediatrics, counselled eight pairs of parents of neonates with a 46XY karyogram and an external genital organ that was either completely female or hermaphrodite. These were children whose genotype was not in accordance with their phenotye. The authors discuss policy in regard to counseling and support of the parents from the time when the child's genital abnormality is first observed to its adulthood. The aim of the policy is to create the conditions required to achieve a good female gender identity for the child."

so.... tampering with someone's internal and external reproductive systems to make sure they're a female? i sure hope john money isn't a literal pedophile who mutilated and tormented his clients until they committed suicide

A 1997 academic study criticized Money's work in many respects, particularly in regard to the involuntary sex-reassignment of the child David Reimer. Money allegedly coerced David and his brother Brian to perform sexual rehearsal with each other, which Money then photographed. David Reimer lived a troubled life, ending with his suicide at 38 following his brother's suicide.

oh great. yeah we should definitely misappropriate the language of this group that is overwhelmingly sexually abused in the medical fields! i think it would be great to take language from the oppressors of a group you don't even fucking belong to. please rethink your lexicon, friends, because this language is loaded for people like me, people who were cut open repeatedly at their genitalia to be "cured" or "fixed". i have scar tissue, lack of feeling and i am unable to have sex.

He screened adult patients for two years prior to granting them a medical transition, and believed sex roles should be de-stereotyped, so that masculine women would be less likely to desire transition. Money is generally viewed as a negative figure by the transgender community.

so why are we still using language he helped write in blood?

Believing that gender identity was malleable within the first two years of life, Money advocated for the surgical "normalization" of the genitalia of intersex infants. Money proposed and developed several theories related to the topics of gender identity and gender roles, and coined terms like gender role and lovemap. He popularized the term paraphilia (appearing in the DSM-III, which would later replace perversions) and introduced the term sexual orientation in place of sexual preference, arguing that attraction is not necessarily a matter of free choice. Although often misattributed to him, Money did not coin the term 'gender identity'. Despite the pain and turmoil of the brothers, for decades, Money reported on Reimer's progress as the "John/Joan case", describing apparently successful female gender development and using this case to support the feasibility of sex reassignment and surgical reconstruction even in non-intersex cases.

In one paper, Money described trans women as "devious, demanding and manipulative in their relationships with people on whom they are also dependent" and “possibly also incapable of love.”

read his wiki page because this isn't half of it. he was an openly out pedophile. and they let him rape and abuse children because they needed to be "corrected".

watch Intersexion for free on YouTube, because it is by us, about us, FOR YOU. TO LEARN FROM.

tldr; if a doctor cuts your fucking genitalia open as a minor you're probably asab. if you are perisex and have no idea you're not actually supposed to call intersex people "hermaphrodites" anymore, you're most certainly not asab. you were observed at birth or in utero via an ultrasound, but nobody assigned you anything because nothing had to be assigned.

#intersexism #intersex #actually intersex #actuallyintersex #ena wails

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aynavaano · 5 months ago

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The heat on Thyferra

Hunter x f!reader

Rating: Explicit/NSFW

Wordcount: 9k

Summary: You got assigned to Clone Force 99 as a medic but also to keep an eye on their methods. It did’t take long for you to fall for Hunter and you fell hard, but it seemed like he was totally unaware. It got more difficult to deal with your feelings by the minute until after a heated training session you decide to ask for a reasignment.

Notes: This takes place during the Clone Wars pre Echo joining the Batch. Ngl this is completely self indulgent porn with very little plot. Mutual pining, idiots to lovers kind of, yearning, masturbation, consensual voyeurism, oral f! and m! receving, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, porn with feelings aka “It’s always been you”, slight cum/breeding kink, yeah Hunter has a breeding kink, knife kink if you squint, also no beta, I don’t have enough horny friends to proofread this insanity

Getting assigned to Clone Force 99 wasn’t what you had expected when you joined the Republic's science and medical corps. The stories about them were legendary—whispers of impossible missions pulled off by a squad of “defective” clones with a 100 percent success rate. But those stories also included frequent mentions of damaged equipment, questionable methods, trouble to follow orders and complete lack of reports, the bane of any commanding officer's existence.

You’d been with the 104th battalion, the Wolfpack, before this assignment, and leaving them had been hard. The boys had been good to you, treating you like one of their own. Commander Wolffe had even gone so far as to personally request that you stay with them when word came down that you were being reassigned. It seemed everyone in the GAR knew about your reassignment before you did, and you’d heard the murmurs—Clone Force 99, the “Bad Batch,” was getting a natborn and they were apparently not happy. Despite the rumors, the transitions was smoother than anticipated and they’d been kind to you from the start, even if none of them were particularly keen on having someone outside their tight-knit group join their ranks.

Well, almost all of them.

Crosshair, with his sharp tongue and sharper aim, took some time to warm up to you. The sniper was standoffish, always seeming to watch you from the corner of his eye, as though waiting for you to prove you didn’t belong. His words were often cutting, laced with sarcasm that bit deeper than he intended, or maybe exactly as he intended. But over time, you learned to see the cracks in his armor, the subtle ways he showed he cared—an extra ration pack left for you when supplies ran low or a slight shift in position that put you in the safest part of the formation during firefights. You’d come to realize that beneath the layers of snark and cold professionalism was a fiercely loyal and caring brother, someone who would lay down his life for his squad and now, it seemed, for you.

But it wasn’t Crosshair who stole your breath and left you with sleepless nights. It was Hunter, the sergeant and leader of the squad. From the moment you patched him up after your first mission together, you were hooked. You couldn’t help but be drawn to the contrast between his deadly efficiency in the field and the quiet, almost gentle demeanor he had off it. Hunter was everything a soldier should be—strong, capable, and confident—but it was the way he looked at you with those intense, caring eyes that made your heart race.

His long, curly hair and that signature skull tattoo had caught your eye the first time you saw him, but it wasn’t until you had him on the med table, shirt off, his muscled chest exposed, that you realized just how breathtaking he really was. The tattoo that stretched down the whole left side of his body, bold and dark against his tan skin, left you speechless. You remember how your hands had trembled slightly as you cleaned the wounds on his side, pretending not to notice the way his muscles tensed under your touch or the heat that radiated from his body.

“Everything alright there, Doc?” he’d asked, his voice smooth and low, with a hint of amusement in his tone.

You’d nodded too quickly, turning to grab more bandages to cover your flustered state.

“Just making sure you don’t end up with a nasty scar,” you’d managed to say, trying to sound professional even as your mind raced with thoughts you had no business entertaining.

He’d chuckled softly, a sound that didn’t help the slightest but in fact sent shivers down your spine.

“Don’t worry, scars are part of the job.”

But it wasn’t just the physical attraction that pulled you to him. It was the way he carried the weight of his squad on his shoulders, the way he always put them first, and how he made sure you were safe and taken care of, even when you were the one patching them up. It was the quiet moments when he would sit beside you after a mission, asking how you were doing, his voice full of genuine concern. He was always professional, always in control, but sometimes it felt like there was something more there, something simmering just below the surface, but you convinced yourself it was just your nerves, getting the best of you.

Every time you thought about him, every time you remembered the way his tattoo snaked down his body, the way his eyes darkened when he looked at you, it took all your willpower not to let your thoughts wander into territory that was far from professional.

You knew you were falling for Hunter. Hard. And no matter how much you tried to push those feelings down, they kept bubbling up, threatening to spill over.

At first, it was easy to dismiss the way your heart would skip a beat when he was around, chalking it up to simple attraction.

How could you not be physically drawn to him? You had seen him training one morning, his toned body moving with a deadly grace that left you breathless. His caramel skin glistened with sweat, each muscle defined and rippling under the effort of his workout.

That image was seared into your mind, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake it.

But it was more than just the way he looked. The more time you spent with Clone Force 99, the more you saw the depth of Hunter's character. He wasn't just their leader; he was their protector, their confidant, their brother. The way he cared for his squad, always putting them first, always making sure they were safe and looked after, it made something inside you shift. Watching him interact with his brothers, seeing the soft side he showed them, the gentle way he handled their concerns, that was what truly made you fall for him.

And then, he decided you needed better training.

Despite your basic training and the fact that one of them was always by your side during missions, Hunter insisted on making sure you could take care of yourself. It was a logical decision, of course-ensuring that you were capable of defending yourself in the heat of battle. But it was also the beginning of your downfall.

You had managed to keep a professional distance up until then. Sure, you got close when you were patching him up, and the others had no problem with your occasional use of Wrecker as a giant pillow after a hard-fought battle. But training sessions were different. Having Hunter watch you during target practice with Crosshair, his eyes never leaving you, his voice low and encouraging, it was enough to make your pulse race. But it was the hand-to-hand combat training that really did you in.

His hands were on you constantly, guiding you through moves, showing you how to defend yourself, and it left you hot and bothered beyond reason. His touch, firm but careful, sent sparks through your body every time and left your skin burning. You could feel his breath on your neck when he got close, his scent surrounding you, making it impossible to focus on anything but him.

You'd leave those sessions flustered and on edge, your body aching for something more, something only he could give. Nights became torture. You'd wait until the others were asleep, until the sounds of their soft snores filled the ship, and Tech had retreated to the cockpit, closing the door for some peace and quiet. Only then would you allow yourself the release you so desperately needed. You'd slip a hand down your body, rubbing your pussy with feverish need, trying to imagine it was him. You'd fuck yourself on your fingers, your mind filled with thoughts of Hunter-his hands, his mouth, his cock.

You'd listen carefully, straining to make sure no one woke up, praying that your sounds were swallowed by the hum of the ship. Sometimes, you thought you heard a groan, something low and rough, but you convinced yourself it was just your nerves playing tricks on you. Your fingers would clutch the sheets, your teeth sinking into your pillow to muffle the moans and whimpers that threatened to escape. You didn't dare moan his name, didn't dare let anyone know how far gone you were.

But it was never enough. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how many times you brought yourself to the edge and over, it never satisfied you.

Because what you really wanted-what you craved-was Hunter. You wanted him buried deep inside you, wanted to feel his cock stretching you, filling you in a way your fingers never could. The need for him consumed you, until you knew without a doubt that you were damned.

He was in your thoughts constantly, day and night, and you prayed to the Maker that he would soon be satisfied with your training so you could get some distance. But it only seemed to get worse. Every day was a struggle, every touch, every look a reminder of what you couldn't have. And the worst part was, you didn't know how much longer you could hold out before you snapped, before you threw caution to the wind and let the hunger take over. Because the truth was, you were already in too deep, and there was no going back.

***

The oppressive humidity on Thyferra was like a suffocating blanket that wrapped itself around you, making every breath feel thick and heavy. You had been on this forsaken planet for far too long, monitoring a nearby military base that was suspected to cooperate with Separatists and waiting for new orders that never seemed to come. The air was stifling, clinging to your skin, and the temperature was wearing you all out. Tech and Crosshair were out, trying to scavenge supplies and something edible other than ration bars from the next settlement, leaving you with Hunter and Wrecker. Wrecker, with nothing better to do, was snoring loudly in the shade of a massive tree, blissfully unaware of the discomfort the rest of you were enduring.

Hunter, however, was determined to continue your training, despite the unbearable heat. He seemed unaffected by the temperature, his focus solely on sharpening your skills. But you weren’t so lucky. The humidity made it hard to concentrate, and the fact that Hunter had discarded his shirt halfway into the session only added to your distraction. His caramel skin glistened with sweat, each movement highlighting the toned muscles beneath, and it took all of your willpower to keep your eyes on the task at hand.

You tried to focus, determined to finish the session with dignity, even as your body screamed for relief from the weather and the heat burning in your core. You countered Hunter’s next attack brilliantly, moving swiftly and with precision, managing to get a good grip on his arm. But just when you thought you had the upper hand, your sweaty hands slipped. Hunter didn’t waste a second, using your falter to his advantage. In one fluid motion, he had you pinned to the ground, the impact knocking the air from your lungs.

For a moment, all you could do was gasp, struggling to regain your breath. The world spun slightly as you blinked your eyes open, only to be met with the intense gaze of Hunter staring down at you. His knife was pressed lightly against your throat—a reminder of how easily he could have taken you down in a real fight—but it wasn’t only the weapon that had your heart racing. It was him. The weight of his body on yours, the heat radiating off of him, the musky scent of his sweat. It was overwhelming, intoxicating, you felt heat pool low in your belly and your control slipping.

Your breath came in short, shallow pants, and you could see that Hunter was breathing heavily too, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Sweat dripped from his wet hair, landing on your skin and mixing with your own. You suddenly were hyper-aware of every inch of him pressing down on you, every muscle in his body coiled and tense as he kept you pinned beneath him. The proximity was too much, the physical contact too intimate, and you felt something inside you snap.

Without thinking, you balled your fist and punched him in the gut. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt him, but it was enough to surprise him, causing him to loosen his grip just enough for you to roll to the side and escape. You scrambled to your feet, your chest heaving, and you threw your knife to the ground in frustration.

“I’m done,” you spat out, your voice sharp with a mix of anger and something else you couldn’t quite name.

“It’s too hot for this.”

You are too hot for this - you added in your thoughts before you turned and stomped away, not waiting for his response, not wanting to see the confusion—or worse, the understanding—in his eyes.

You stormed back toward the ship, your emotions a chaotic swirl inside you. It seemed Hunter had no idea what he did to you, the pure torture of having him so close, the way your body ached with need every time he was near. And even if he did know, you were convinced he didn’t feel the same. If he had, surely he would have made a move by now, right?

The thought brought tears to your eyes, and you blinked them back angrily, determined not to let them fall. You needed to get to the fresher, needed to cool down and take care of the throbbing between your legs that had become a constant reminder of what you couldn’t have.

You forced yourself to breathe deeply, trying to regain some semblance of control. You couldn’t keep going like this, couldn’t keep torturing yourself with what you could never have.

You knew what you had to do. As soon as this mission was over and you were off this cursed planet, you were going to request a reassignment. Maybe you could go back to the Wolfpack, or find a spot with any other battalion. Anywhere, as long as it got you as far away from Hunter as possible. You liked being with the batch, you had grown to care about them all deeply, but staying would only lead to more suffering and you couldn’t keep acting like a little desperate tooka in heat, couldn’t risk that one day you’d get distracted on the battlefield and someone would get hurt.

The decision made, you felt a sense of resolve settle over you, though it did little to ease the ache in your heart. You’d do what you had to do, for your own sanity. But until then, you had to endure, had to find a way to keep your distance and survive this mission without letting your feelings get the best of you.

But you heard footsteps behind you already before you even reached the top of the ramp, your heart pounding in your chest.

When he called your name, you turned to face him, struggling to maintain your composure. Hunter's face was a mix of emotions, and you couldn’t quite decipher the expression in his eyes.

Was it concern? Frustration? Something else entirely? The turmoil boiling within you made it difficult to think clearly.

"I'm sorry if I pushed you too far," Hunter said, his voice low and sincere.

You let out a huff, trying to mask the storm raging inside you.

"It's just the climate," you answered, forcing a casual tone, "I need to calm down and take a shower."

But his gaze didn’t waver. It was intense, pinning you in place and making you squirm under its weight. For a split second, you thought he'll turn and leave, that this conversation would end with you retreating to the fresher to relieve the throbbing in your core and try to forget the way he made you feel. But then, he spoke again, and your brain short-circuited as you processed his words.

"Stop lying to me, I know where you’re going" he said, his tone firm but not unkind. "It's not the mission or the climate. It's me."

You stared at him, your heart hammering in your chest. You didn’t know how to respond. His words hung in the air between you, heavy and charged. For a moment, you half expected him to turn away, to say he doesn't want to put up with your drama any longer, to give you the reassignment you were wishing for just moments ago.

But when he spoke again, his voice was soft, laced with something you couldn’t quite place.

"I heard you," he admitted, his eyes searching yours.

"Do you know how much torture it was, listening to your sweet whimpers, your muffled moans of my name? How often you made me make a mess in my own bunk, unable to do anything about it because I didn't want to let you know I noticed and risk making you uncomfortable?"

His words left you speechless, your thoughts spinning. You thought you’d made sure they were all fast asleep, karking hell, Hunter and his heightened senses. You’d never imagined he knew, let alone that he might feel the same way. The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, and all the carefully constructed walls you've built to protect yourself came crumbling down in an instant. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but there was also a flicker of hope, a small spark of something that made you want to step forward, to close the distance between you.

You tried to speak, but your voice failed you, the words catching in your throat. All that came out was his name, a whisper, barely audible. Finally, you managed to choke out,

"I'm sorry."

Hunter's expression softened, and he stepped closer, his presence comforting despite the heat that threatened to consume you.

"Cyar’ika," he murmured, the endearment made your heart flutter.

"There’s nothing to be sorry about."

He paused, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

"But I can’t handle it anymore, one more night of listening to your sweet sounds, one more day on the ship, filled with the scent of your arousal without any relief and I will go crazy," he continued, his voice thick with a mix of desire and restraint.

"Please, just let me watch you. *Gedet’ye*."

The mando’a term send a flush straight to your cheeks, the vulnerability in his voice, the raw need—how could you possibly deny him when he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing in the galaxy?

"I won’t touch you if you don’t want it, just want to see you, want to see what I could only imagine all those nights listening" he said, his voice a little softer now, almost pleading.

"That’s enough for me."

It’s then you noticed the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, the faint tremor in his words. He was afraid—afraid that maybe he was just a fantasy for you, a secret desire you indulged in but never intended to bring into reality.

For a moment, the power dynamic shifted. The usually confident and composed sergeant seemed vulnerable, exposed in a way you’ve never seen him before. This side of him, this raw honesty, made you fall for him even more deeply, your heart aching with the need to give him everything.

You couldn’t find your voice, so you nodded, your body moving on instinct, your mind still reeling from the weight of the moment. You had no idea where this would lead, but you did know one thing—you wanted him completely. But if watching you is all he wanted, you’d give it to him, without hesitation.

Hunter took a quick glance outside to ensure Wrecker was still snoring away under the tree. Once he was satisfied that you were alone, he squeezed your hand gently and guided you into the cockpit. The door slid shut behind you with a soft hiss, sealing you both inside the dimly lit space.

He led you to the pilot's chair, and you couldn't help but think of Tech's reaction if he knew you were about to do something so... filthy in his sacred cockpit.

Hunter sensed your hesitation and hesitantly cupped your face, his touch warm and steady, anchoring you to the moment.

"It's just us, cyar'ika," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble that sent a shiver down your spine.

"No one has to know what happens between us if you don’t want to."

He guided you to sit in the pilot's chair, his presence overwhelming in the small, enclosed space. You pulled him down with you, taking his hands in yours encouraging him to touch you. Your heart raced, pounding in your chest as he knelt down in front of you, his hands sliding up your thighs, urging them apart. You let out a shaky breath, your nerves and excitement tangling together in a heady mix.

Hunter's hands slid down your sides, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. He searched your gaze for confirmation pulling slightly. You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you lifted your hips, allowing him to slide your pants and panties all together down your legs.

He inhaled deeply and when he looked back up at you, the golden brown in his eyes was almost gone, replaced by dark pupils blown with lust.

“Fuck”, he hissed through gritted teeth “so beautiful. Show me how you've been touching yourself, thinking about me. Let me see you fall apart for me."

Your heart raced as you slowly started to rub your clit, circling it with your fingers, your other hand sliding down to tease your entrance. You let out a shaky breath, your hips moving in time with your fingers, but it was not enough.

You whimpered, your fingers sliding over your slick folds, it just wasn't enough. Not now, when he was there, watching you with that intense gaze, his breath ghosting over your skin. Your fingers didn't satisfy you the way you needed; they never had.

You let out a pathetic whine, a sound that was part frustration, part desperate need.

"I want you to make yourself come for me”, Hunter said, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill through your entire body.

You shook your head, your breath hitching in your throat.

"I can't”, you whined, your voice breaking with the intensity of your longing.

"It's not enough, Hunter." the words slipped from your lips before you could stop them.

The plea hung between you, heavy and loaded with meaning. There was no going back now, not after this.

Whatever happened, you couldn't just walk away and pretend nothing had changed. You were too far gone, too wrapped up in him, in this moment.

"Please”, you begged, your voice trembling, as every last bit of your restraint left you.

"I need more. A kiss, your fingers-just something.”

Hunter's eyes darkened with desire, and a slow, knowing smile curved his lips. He stood and, with deliberate slowness, pulled down his shorts, revealing his rock hard cock. It was even more glorious than you had imagined - thick, long, with a slight curve that promised to hit all the right spots. The sight of precum beading at the tip made your mouth water.

You gasped, your eyes locked on him, taking in every detail, every inch of him. It was like a fantasy brought to life, and you could hardly believe this was really happening.

"If you really want me, cyar'ika”, he said, his voice rough with desire, "you have me and I’ll give you everything you want. But first..."

He stepped closer, his hand gently cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

"I want to see what I missed out on all those nights."

You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you nodded, your body trembling with anticipation.

"| want you," you breathed, the words spilling from your lips in a rush.

Hunter's smile widened, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered,

“Then you know what to do."

Your hand slid down between your legs again, fingers circling your clit as your eyes locked onto his. His gaze was dark, intense, and filled with a hunger that mirrored your own. You started to move your fingers, slow at first, building up the tension again, the pleasure, under his watchful eyes. His cock twitched, and you could see how hard he was holding himself back, waiting, watching, letting you take the lead. But you hoped, deep down, that he wouldn't be able to resist for long.

You continued to fuck yourself on your fingers, the sensation of your own touch heightened by the sight of Hunter in front of you. His cock was fully on display now, thick and hard, just as you'd imagined so many times. Your eyes were glued to it, watching as he wrapped his hand around the base and gave himself a few slow, deliberate pumps. The way he handled himself so confidently, so naturally, made your mouth water and your core clench with need.

All you could think about was how it would feel to have him inside you, stretching you, filling you completely. The thought alone made the coil in your core tighten deliciously, your body already teetering on the edge of release. Hunter seemed to sense how close you were. His eyes, dark with lust, locked onto yours, and his voice came out in a low, velvety command.

"Look at me, cyar'ika."

Your gaze snapped to his, and what you saw there was your undoing. His face was a mix of raw desire and something deeper, something almost tender. His cheeks were flushed, a warm color against his caramel skin, and his pupils were blown wide with lust, all of it for you. That look - hungry, wanting, and completely focused on you was all you needed to push yourself over the edge.

When the first wave of your orgasm hit, you let loose and moaned his name loudly, your body arching off the chair. The moment your release flooded through you, Hunter was there, his strong arms wrapping around you, pulling you into him. His lips found yours in a kiss that was both hungry and sweet, swallowing your moans as his hands roamed over your body, grounding you as you rode out your high.

His touch, his scent, the feel of his solid body pressed against yours - it was overwhelming, like floodgates had opened, and everything you'd been holding back rushed out all at once. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you gasped out the words that had been burning inside you for so long.

"I want you Hunter," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I want all of you."

Hunter's response was immediate, his voice a deep, soothing rumble against your ear. "You have me”, he said, his lips brushing against your skin. "you've always had me, cyar'ika. It's always been you."

His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, and you couldn't help the tears that pricked at the corners of your eyes. It was too much - too intense, too perfect - and yet, it was everything you'd ever wanted. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing him in, letting the reality of his words slowly sink in.

"…thought.." you struggled to find the right words, your voice catching in your throat. "I thought maybe you didn't notice...me, or didn’t want me."

Hunter pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression softening.

"How could I not want you?" he said, his thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. "I noticed every look, every touch. I noticed how you made excuses to be near me, how you lingered in the room just a little longer after everyone else had gone. And then suddenly it felt like you were running away from me, avoiding me and it drove me crazy, because I didn’t know what to do."

You inhaled sharply, trying to steady your shaking hands.

"Hunter... I don't think you realize what it's like to watch you from a distance. You walk into a room, and every head turns. People flirt with you -boldly, shamelessly- and you don't even flinch. Meanwhile, I thought I was just... invisible to you. Just part of the team. And I couldn’t handle it anymore.”

You forced yourself to meet his gaze.

He chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

"You think I don’t see the way other women look at me and sometimes men too? All the attention in bars, in the markets?"

He shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "I noticed them all, but I didn't care. None of them were you. From the moment you were assigned to the squad, all I wanted was you."

His words hit you like a freight train, and you were left reeling from the intensity of his confession. You reached up, cupping his face in your hands, your thumb tracing the lines of his tattoo.

“You remember the Jedi general we had with us for two missions shortly after you’ve been assigned to us?” he said.

“Did you notice how she looked at you? I always thought it’s not the jedi way but she quickly sensed how I felt for you and she was jealous.”

"Hunter..."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly as if savoring the feel of your hands on him. "I’m yours, cyar'ika," he murmured, opening his eyes to meet yours again. "And you can be mine. If thats what you want."

You pulled him into another kiss, your heart soaring at his words. It was everything you'd ever dreamed of and more. The man you'd been longing for, craving, was finally yours, and he wanted you just as badly. You deepened the kiss, pouring all your emotions into it, and you felt him respond equally, his hands roaming over your body with a hunger that matched your own.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting together as you shared a moment of quiet intimacy. It was a connection that went beyond just the physical - it was something deeper, something that had been building between you for so long. And now that it had finally been acknowledged, there was no turning back.

Hunter's hands slowly slid under your shirt, lifting it over your head.

"Let me see all of you”, he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

"Want to worship every inch of you."

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you helped him get off your training bra. You were bare before him now, exposed and vulnerable, your nipples instantly hard, but there was no fear - only anticipation, only need.

He reached up to cup your breasts, his thumb ghosting over your nipple and you leaned back in to kiss him again. His tongue pleaded for access and you let him in, let him explore your mouth, his taste sweet and intoxicating. One hand tangled in his hair you let the other snake down his chest until you reached his cock, giving him a few lazy pumps, earning a few groans from him in return.

But just when you were ready to lose yourself completely in him, Hunter broke the kiss, pulling back slightly.

He looked down at you, his breathing ragged, his dark eyes full of desire and something else - something deeper, more meaningful.

"Wa…want to do this right," he said, his voice low and husky.

You blinked up at him, dazed and trembling with need, but his words made your heart stutter in your chest. He wasn't just looking for a quick release; he wanted this to mean something, to be something you would both remember.

Before you could say anything, he glanced quickly out of the viewport, checking to make sure Wrecker was still peacefully snoring outside. Satisfied, he turned back to you, and with a few quick taps on the console, you heard the soft hiss of the ramp closing.

The ship was now sealed, offering you the privacy you desperately needed.

Without another word, Hunter scooped you up into his arms, holding you close against his chest as he carried you to the bunk area. There was a determination in his movements, a focused intensity that only made you want him more. He set you down gently, then quickly began to rearrange the bunks, pulling two mattresses together and throwing a few blankets and cushions onto the floor to create a cozy, makeshift bed.

"Perfect," he murmured, almost to himself, before turning back to you.

His hands were on you again in an instant, pulling you down onto the mattress with him.

“When we're out of here, I’m going to take you some place nice …but for now this is all I can offer you”

“Hunter…I don’t need anything else, just you.”

He kissed you everywhere - your lips, your neck, your collarbone, working his way down to your breasts. His tongue was hot and wet as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

"Hunter," you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as he moved to your other breast, giving it the same attention. The way he touched you, the way he kissed you, it was like he was memorizing every inch of your body, committing it all to memory.

He let his head dip down between your legs, kissing and nibbling along your soft inner thighs until he reached your wet pussy and liked a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit. You felt him shudder and you let out a soft whimper when he flicked his tongue against your swollen bud, still sensitive from your first orgasm.

"I've wanted this for so long," he growled against your skin, his voice thick with need. "Wanted you for so long."

You could only moan in response, arching your back as he positioned himself above you.

His cock was heavy and hot against your thigh, and when he dragged the tip through your soaked folds, your whole body trembled with anticipation. You were so wet for him, so ready, and the sensation of his cock teasing you, brushing against your clit before dipping back down to your entrance, was almost too much to bear. He bit your neck, not hard enough to hurt but enough to leave a mark and to make you shiver with desire.

"Hunter, please," you whimpered, your hips bucking up, seeking more.

He reached up, his hand cupping the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair. He held you like that, firm but gentle, and his eyes locked onto yours, intense and unyielding.

"Look at me," he whispered, his voice low and rough. "I want you to look at me when I take you”

You nodded, your breath hitching as he slowly began to push into you. The stretch was delicious, the feeling of him finally filling you was overwhelming. Your eyes never left his, the connection between you electric.

As he sank deeper into you, his eyes never wavered from yours, and you could see the raw emotion there - the desire, yes, but also something more, something that made your heart ache with its intensity.

"Maker" he groaned, his voice strained as he bottomed out inside you. "You feel so good, cyar’ika. Better than I ever imagined."

You clutched at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to hold on, your body adjusting to the fullness of him, reveling in the feeling you had yearned for far too long.

"Hunter,” you breathed out, your voice trembling with the depth of your need for him.

"Move, please."

And then he did, pulling back slowly before thrusting back in, and it was like nothing you'd ever felt before.

The pleasure was overwhelming, all consuming, and you couldn't help the way your body arched up into his, seeking more, wanting more. You were intoxicated from a heady mix of chemicals and hormones your own body produced and you couldn’t get enough of.

He watched you the whole time, his gaze never leaving yours, and you could see the way he was fighting to keep control, to hold back from losing himself completely in you.

"Say you’re mine" he gasped.

You moaned, your hands clutching at him, needing to feel every inch of him, to be as close to him as possible. You angled your hips to allow him to reach deeper.

"I'm yours, Hunter. Always yours."

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more forceful, and you could feel yourself hurtling towards another orgasm, the coil in your core tightening with every movement of his hips. He reached down where your bodies were joined and began to circle your clit.

"Come for me," he demanded, his voice rough and commanding. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

And with those words, you were gone, your body shattering as your orgasm crashed over you, your walls desperately clenching around him. Hunter's thrusts became frantic as he neared his release, his breath ragged in your ear.

"Where do you want me?" he asked, his voice low and desperate, teetering on the edge. His eyes searched yours, filled with lust and need.

"Inside”, you whispered, breathless, and the moment the word left your lips, it was like something snapped within him.

His body reacted instantly, a guttural groan escaping his throat. He pushed as deep into you as he could, burying himself completely, ensuring he was filling you in the most intimate way possible.

The warmth of his release surged inside you, and you gasped at the overwhelming sensation. His cock pulsed, each wave of his cum shooting against your cervix, sending electric shivers through your entire being. You clung to him, trembling as your walls tightened around him, pulling him in further, savoring every last drop he spilled inside you.

"Fuck," he groaned, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into you, holding you tight like he never wanted to let go. You felt utterly filled, connected, the sensation of his heat mixing with the deep satisfaction of having him this close. The world had narrowed down, leaving only the two of you.

Hunter's lips found yours again, soft and lingering, filled with a quiet happiness that made your heart swell. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his breath mixing with yours in the peaceful aftermath. You smiled at him, your fingers tracing light patterns on his chest as he pressed a tender kiss to the tip of your nose.

His cock slowly softened and slipped out of you, leaving a tender warmth in its wake. The room was quiet, filled only with the sound of your shared breaths as you remained close, tangled together in the afterglow.

He glanced down between your bodies, his eyes darkening with satisfaction as he watched his cum begin to ooze out of you. Without a word, he gently took two fingers, gathering it and pushing it back into you with a quiet hum of appreciation.

You giggled at his playful possessiveness, your body shivering at the intimate sensation of his fingers moving inside you, even after everything you'd just shared. The sound of your laughter made his grin widen, a soft chuckle rumbling from his chest.

Hunter's hand gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin as he whispered,

"I love you, cyar'ika. More than anything."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you leaned into his touch, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw.

"I love you too, Hunter," you replied softly, your voice full of emotion.

He smiled, his forehead resting against yours.

"I'm never letting you go," he promised, his voice low and filled with tenderness.

"Come on," he whispered, leaning in to kiss your lips again before he stood and scooped you up effortlessly into his arms.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head against his shoulder as he carried you towards the fresher. He handled you with such care, his strong arms making you feel light as air.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he said, the warmth in his voice unmistakable.

You let out a contented sigh, feeling utterly safe in his embrace as he carried you into the fresher.

He carefully adjusted the water, making sure it was the perfect temperature before gently setting you into the warm stream.

"I'll clean up the ship real quickly," he said with a playful smirk, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Don't want to deal with an angry Tech later. I'Il be back in a moment, cyar'ika."

You nodded, leaning back against the wall of the fresher, the warmth of the water soothing your body as you watched him leave. A soft smile crept onto your face, feeling content in the peaceful aftermath. It all still felt like a fever dream, something your mind had come up with to cope with the burning desire that had slowly driven you crazy. If it wasn’t for the faint rustling of bedsheets you heard you might have believed you had fallen victim to your own imagination.

But Hunter returned moments later, true to his word, stepping back into the fresher with you. He pulled you into his arms, and kissed you, the water running over both of you as you melted into the moment once more, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace.

As you pulled back from the kiss, Hunter rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm and steady. His eyes, filled with quiet intensity, searched yours.

"I'm sorry I didn't make a move earlier," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "I've wanted you for so long... but I was afraid, afraid that you wouldn’t want me and what it meant for the squad. I love you so much, cyar'ika. More than you know."

The sincerity in his words made your heart swell, and you gently cradled his face, your fingertips tracing the lines of his jaw.

"I love you too, Hunter," you whispered, your voice barely audible but heavy with meaning.

It was a confession you had been holding onto for so long, and now that it was finally spoken, it felt right-perfect. His lips curved into a small, tender smile, his gaze softening as he looked at you.

"I'll request your permanent assignment to the squad,” he said, his voice filled with quiet determination. "If that's what you want. I might even try to fill out a report here and there."

The thought made you chuckle but without hesitation, you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I want that... more than anything."

Hunter kissed you again, slow and deep, pouring all the love and longing you had both been holding back into the kiss. His hand slid down between your legs, fingers brushing gently over your sensitive skin. You gasped into his mouth, your body responding instantly to his touch, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you both like a cocoon.

He pressed himself closer, and you could feel the hard length of him against your thigh, already ready for you again.

"I can't get enough of you, I’m sorry." he whispered, his voice husky with desire, his fingers teasing you, drawing out soft whimpers as your body burned with need for him all over again.

You sank slowly to your knees, your gaze never leaving his as your hands trailed down his body. Taking him into your mouth, you savored the feel of him - big, warm, heavy on your tongue and throbbing with need. His taste filled your senses, and the low, deep moan that escaped his lips sent a shiver through you. You traced the underside of his cock from the base to the tip, following a thick vein. He was incredibly hard, his tip already leaking and every contact made him twitch. Hunter's hand came to rest gently on the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair as he groaned softly, the sound making your pulse quicken. But after a few moments, he gently tugged you back up to your feet, his hands firm on your shoulders.

"Come here," he whispered, his voice rough with desire.

He guided you toward the fresher wall, your back pressed against the cool durasteel, letting his hand trail lower, carefully stroking through your folds. You were very sensitive, his cum was still oozing out of you but your body betrayed you and you couldn’t stop the downright filthy moan from slipping from your lips.

“Tell me if it’s too much.” he rasped.

“N..no. Don’t stop…can’t get enough of you either.” you stammered as he dipped two fingers into your soaking wet pussy.

“P…please Hunter…fuck me again.”

His mouth found yours in a heated kiss as he lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist, his cock deliciously pressing against your core. He paused, eyes locking with yours for a brief, intimate moment before he buried himself inside you in one deep thrust. You gasped, your body still sensitive, clenching hard around him immediately. The sensation of being so full, so close to him, was still overwhelming.

Hunter groaned deeply, the sound vibrating against your lips as he began to move, slow at first but quickly building into something more intense. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your hips meeting his with each thrust as he fucked you, hard and steady. The room spun around you, all of your senses focused solely on him, on the way he filled you, the way he made you feel. The coil in your core tightened rapidly, your pleasure rising to a peak you couldn't hold back any longer.

"Hunter," you gasped, your voice trembling with need.

He groaned, lowering his forehead to yours as he picked up the pace.

"I feel you, mesh'la," he murmured, his words shaky but full of intent. "So close, aren't you? Let me take you there."

His teeth grazed your lower lip, his body driving you closer to the brink with every thrust.

You cried out, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity, your nails raking down his back as the pressure inside you reached its breaking point. The position allowed him to thrust deep and he did, pushing up against your most sensitive spot.

That was all it took. With a final, powerful snap of his hips, you shattered into a million pieces, your body trembling as your orgasm washed over you. Hot white pleasure surged through your veins, pulling the rug of reality from under your feet and sending you spinning. Your walls clenched around him, pulling him deeper as Hunter groaned your name, his release following yours. You felt him pulse inside you, his second release mixing with the first, filling you to the brim, as his head dropped to your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin.

You stayed like this for a while, you held onto him tightly, both of you catching your breath, the connection between you deeper than ever. Your shallow pants and the falling water were the only sounds for a while. You nestled your head against his neck reveling in the warmth radiating from his body until his cock slowly softened and slipped out of you followed by a rush of his cum.

Hunter carefully set you down, your legs still trembling and unsteady beneath you. You giggled softly, leaning against the wall for support trying to come back to your senses.

"I think... I… we should probably give the ship back," you said, your voice a mix of exhaustion and amusement.

"The others are probably outside, waiting-and annoyed."

He chuckled, his hand brushing tenderly over your cheek.

"You're right. Shouldn’t keep the big guy waiting when he’s hungry," he teased, his eyes still full of warmth.

But then, his gaze softened, and he leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, lingering kiss.

"One last moment," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and intimate, "just us.”

You melted into the kiss, your heart swelling with the closeness of the moment. Hunter's hands moved with careful precision as he lathered you both with soap and helped you clean up, his touch so gentle it made your chest ache with affection. Every small gesture spoke of his care for you, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling the love radiating between you.

After you both emerged from the refresher, Hunter grabbed a towel and gently dried you off, his hands lingering on your skin, pressing kisses here and there as if memorizing the feel of you. There was something tender in the way he handled you, a softness that made your heart swell. Once you were both dry, you reached for fresh clothes from the overhead compartments, dressing in a comfortable silence that was filled with glances, smiles, and the warmth of what you had just shared. Hunter gave you the softest, most loving kiss before he pressed the button to open the hatch.

You were immediately greeted by the sight of three familiar faces. Wrecker’s grin was as wide as ever, Tech looked slightly annoyed, and Crosshair... well, Crosshair had that usual smirk of his, but there was a glint of something else in his eyes too.

"Finally," Crosshair spat out, throwing the toothpick he had just dangled from the corner of his mouth to the floor, his voice dripping with his usual sarcasm.

Tech, ever the meticulous one, adjusted his goggles and said, "If what Crosshair suggested is true, I am pleased for the two of you, but I sincerely hope you cleaned up after yourselves."

He didn’t wait for an answer, instead he strode up the ramp to inspect to ship, his ship, as he had made clear more than enough times.

Wrecker’s grin widened even further when you stepped out of the ship. “Does this mean you’re stayin’ with us for good?” he asked, his eyes shining with hope.

You nodded, and before you could say another word, Wrecker scooped you up in a massive bear hug, whirling you around with such enthusiasm that you couldn’t help but laugh.

Tech reemerged from the ship, seemingly satisfied with the state you had left the cockpit in. “Good,” he said, his tone crisp and professional. “I’m glad to see you took care of that. We brought back better food, by the way.”

“Oh yeah, I’m starving” Wrecker said, setting you back down.

As they walked past you, Crosshair reached out to pat Hunter on the shoulder, his smirk turning into something more genuine.

"Don’t mess this up, Sarge," he said, his tone carrying a rare note of seriousness.

"Because if I have to hear her suffer again, listen to her desperate whimpers one more night... I’ll take care of it myself."

You couldn’t help but smile, knowing this was Crosshair's way of showing he cared. Beneath that tough exterior, there was a hint of concern and affection, even if it came out in his own twisted way. But as soon as the full meaning of what he’d just said found its way through your still foggy and cock drunken mind, you turned to Hunter with a question look, your cheeks hot and a perfect shade of pink.

Hunter just grinned.

“Nothing wakes Wrecker as soon as he’s snoring and Tech stays in the cockpit most nights, but yeah…Cross heard you.”

“More than once.”

You looked back into the ship where Crosshair had just disappeared. He gave you one of his signature smirks, clearly amused.

You groaned, your face burning as you turned and hid against Hunter’s chest, hoping the ground would swallow you whole.

Crosshair chuckled lowly, enjoying your reaction.

“You know, it’s not that embarrassing. At least you’ve got good taste, I’ll give you that.”

“Crosshair,” Hunter warned, but his hand moved to rub your back soothingly.

“What?” Crosshair smirked, his tone softening slightly. “At least Hunter finally did something about it, almost though he’d watch you leave. You’re good together. Just… maybe keep it private next time? For my sleeping schedule…and my sanity.”

You peeked out at him, mortified but catching the flicker of genuine affection in his gaze.

“You’re awful.”

“Maybe,” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching. “But you’re lucky I like you, or I’d never let you live this down.”

You sighed.

As Hunter wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close, pressing you into his chest, you couldn’t help but feel that this was exactly where you were meant to be.

The easy camaraderie between the five of you made you feel like you were truly home.

#the bad batch #the bad batch smut #tbb smut #bad batch hunter #hunter bad batch #tbb hunter #sw tbb #tbb #star wars #bad batch #hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter smut #the clone wars

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literaryvein-reblogs · 2 months ago

Note

I want to write a fanfic that of a transfem headcanon, but it's hard to show how the person struggles with gender dysphoria & envy towards his cis female gfs beyond being jealous of how they look.

Writing Notes: Gender Dysphoria in Transfeminine People

DEFINITIONS

GENDER DYSPHORIA: A concept designated in the DSM-5-TR as clinically significant distress or impairment related to gender incongruence, which may include desire to change primary and/or secondary sex characteristics. Not all transgender or gender diverse people experience gender dysphoria.

GENDER PRONOUN: The pronoun a person chooses to use for themselves.

Examples. Gender pronouns can look like and are not limited to:

he/him/his (masculine pronouns)

she/her/hers (feminine pronouns)

they/them/theirs (neutral pronouns)

ze/zir/zirs (neutral pronouns)

ze/hir/hirs (neutral pronouns)

It is important to ask people what their pronouns are. If you have questions, politely ask the person if they feel comfortable giving examples of how to use those pronouns.

TRANSFEMININE: (also trans-feminine or trans feminine, sometimes abbreviated to transfem or transfemme) A gender identity. It is typically used by people who are assigned male at birth (AMAB) but identify more with a feminine gender expression than a masculine one. To be transfemme means that you identify with femininity, but you don't necessarily identify as a woman.

When a person expresses femininity outwardly, there is no one correct way to do this.

TRANSGENDER: An umbrella term describing individuals whose gender identity does not align in a traditional sense with the gender they were assigned at birth. It may also be used to refer to a person whose gender identity is binary and not traditionally associated with that assigned at birth.

While transgender is generally a good term to use, not everyone whose appearance or behavior is gender-nonconforming will identify as a transgender person. The ways that transgender people are talked about in popular culture, academia and science are constantly changing, particularly as individuals’ awareness, knowledge and openness about transgender people and their experiences grow.

People who are transgender may pursue multiple domains of gender affirmation, including:

social affirmation (e.g., changing one’s name and pronouns),

legal affirmation (e.g., changing gender markers on one’s government-issued documents),

medical affirmation (e.g., pubertal suppression or gender-affirming hormones), and/or

surgical affirmation (e.g., vaginoplasty, facial feminization surgery, breast augmentation, masculine chest reconstruction, etc.).

Of note, not all people who are transgender will desire all domains of gender affirmation, as these are highly personal and individual decisions.

GENDER AFFIRMING CARE

Some transfeminine people get gender affirming care, but some do not. It depends on what a person feels is right or helpful for them.

If a person does seek gender affirming care, the options may vary depending on their age. To begin with, they may include:

Social transitioning: This involves changes in behavior, from an individual and from others, to acknowledge and affirm that person’s gender. It could include telling family members about their gender, changing pronouns, trying a new name, or dressing differently.

Mental health support: Counselling may help a person cope with feelings of gender dysphoria, which is distress from a person’s identity not matching the sex assigned at birth. Counselors may also help a person tell others they are trans.

Voice therapy: This involves vocal training to help a person match their voice with their gender identity.

Appearance changes: This could include hair removal, padding the hips or bust, or tucking the genitals.

These interventions are reversible, and for some people, they feel happy with these options alone. Others may want to pursue medical transitioning, which can include:

Puberty blockers: This involves taking hormones to pause the changes in the body that would otherwise take place during puberty. A 2020 study shows these medications can significantly decrease the risk of suicidal ideation in trans people at risk of suicidal thoughts.

Cross-sex hormones: After undergoing hormone therapy, people may take cross-sex hormones. In transfeminine people, these medications may cause breast development.

Surgery: This may be an option during adulthood. It involves surgically modifying the body, such as reducing an Adam’s apple, breast augmentation, or procedures to feminize the face or hips. Some people may also choose surgery to remove male genitalia and create a vagina or clitoris.

A specialist can recommend the most appropriate gender affirming treatment for each person’s situation.

Gender-affirming care is highly individualized and focuses on the needs of each individual by including psychoeducation about gender and sexuality (appropriate to age and developmental level), parental and family support, social interventions, and gender-affirming medical interventions.

GENDER DYSPHORIA

Gender incongruence: A marked and persistent experience of incompatibility between a person's gender identity and the gender expected based on sex at birth.

Gender dysphoria: Discomfort or distress related to an incongruence between an individual's gender identity and the gender assigned at birth.

Gender incongruence & gender dysphoria symptoms in adults:

Most people with gender incongruence or gender dysphoria begin having symptoms or feeling different in early childhood, but some do not acknowledge these feelings until adulthood.

Some transgender people make choices at first that are consistent with their birth sex, such as doing a job that is typically associated with that sex or marrying a person with the gender expected by their society, as a way to escape or deny their feelings of wanting to be the other sex.

Some men may cross-dress first and not acknowledge their identification with the other sex until later in life.

Once people accept these feelings, many transition to their preferred gender, with or without hormone therapy or gender-affirming surgery.

Others experience problems, such as anxiety, depression, and suicidal behavior. The stress of not being accepted by society and/or by family may cause or contribute to these problems.

Diagnosis. Doctors diagnose gender dysphoria when people (children or adults) do all of the following:

Feel that their anatomic sex does not match their gender identity and have felt that way for 6 months or longer

Feel greatly distressed or cannot function normally because of this feeling

To be diagnosed with gender dysphoria based on standard psychiatric criteria, adolescents and adults must also have 2 or more of the following symptoms:

A marked incongruence between one's experienced/expressed gender and primary and/or secondary sex characteristics (or in young adolescents, the anticipated secondary sex characteristics)

A strong desire to be rid of their sex characteristics and, for young adolescents, to prevent the development of secondary sex characteristics (those that occur during puberty)

A strong desire for the sex characteristics that match their gender identity

A strong desire to be another gender

A strong desire to live or be treated as another gender

A strong belief that they feel and react like another gender

OTHER STRUGGLES EXPERIENCED

Transgender people often face serious discrimination and mistreatment at work, school, and in their families and communities.

For example, transgender people are more likely to:

Be fired or denied a job

Face harassment and bullying at school

Become homeless or live in extreme poverty

Be evicted or denied housing or access to a shelter

Be denied access to critical medical care

Be incarcerated or targeted by law enforcement

Face abuse and violence

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Here are some writing notes you can use as reference. "Symptoms" of gender dysphoria include some struggles that transfeminine people experience. Choose which ones (a mix of both internal and external experiences would be good) are appropriate for your specific character. Highlight the incongruence, dysphoria, and envy through internal monologue, dialogue, and their actions/choices throughout the story.

Additionally, "research demonstrates that gender-affirming care—a medical and psychosocial health care designed to affirm individuals' gender identities—greatly improves the mental health and overall well-being of gender diverse, transgender, and nonbinary children and adolescents."* You can show this struggle in your character if they have a desire to seek such gender affirmations, but for certain reasons, aren't able to access the necessary interventions/options.

If possible, it would also be valuable to ask and listen to transfeminine people about their experience to better inform your work. Here's one research consisting of a series of focus groups on experiences, challenges and hopes of transgender and nonbinary U.S. adults.

Lastly, here's a previous post that includes an overview of The Transgender Emergence Model & The Stage Model on Transgender Identity Development, which you could consider as another guide in developing your character. (There are other models that you can also consider.)

You can go through the sources linked above for more details I wasn't able to include here. Hope this helps with your writing!

#anonymous #transfeminine #writing reference #writeblr #writing notes #literature #writers on tumblr #dark academia #spilled ink #writing prompt #light academia #creative writing #writing resources

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inevitably-johnlocked · 5 months ago

Note

Steph, do you have any "there was only one bed" recs?

Hi Lovely!

Ahhh, not SPECIFICALLY "only one bed" but I do have a LOT of "Bed sharing" fics where the majority of them are "victims of circumstances" so in turn Share A Bed, LOL. And because I need a list for today, I'm using your list to put out the next part that doesn't have much but I did go through my MFL list to pad it out a bit. For those, I whittled down that section to fics specifically tagged with "one bed" LOL, so check that section out to get more closer to what you're looking for.

If anyone has some fics to share that are SPECIFICALLY One Bed, please do!!!! One of these days I will properly sit down and go through all my bookmarks, and then I'll filter those out from these lists.

BED SHARING Pt. 7

See also:

The Speckled Blonde / BedSharing

BedSharing Pt. 2 and Insecure Sherlock

Bed Sharing Pt. 3

Bed Sharing Pt. 4

Bed Sharing Pt. 5

Bed Sharing Pt. 6 (Mar 2023)

BOOKMARKS

Both Sides Now by Silvergirl (M, 14,724 w., 5 Ch. || Post-TEH / Reunion Fix-It, Bed Sharing, First Kiss / Time, Undercover John, Couple for a Case, Assassin Mary, Big Brother Mycroft, Norfolk Coast, Angry John, First Kiss, Worried Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Alternating POV, Infidelity, Meddling Mycroft, Emotional Love Making, Matchmaker Mycroft) – Sherlock, undercover on the Norfolk coast, texts that he needs help; John is still seething after Sherlock’s gambit in the train car, and he refuses. When Sherlock goes missing, Mycroft sends John in to pose as Sherlock’s bit on the side.

Spare Parts by Raina_at (E, 63,497 w., 10 Ch. || 24th Century / Futurism AU || Post TRF, Pre-TRF Relationship, Case Fic, Mutual Pining, Estrangement, Reconciliation, Science Fiction, Reunion, Nightmares, Angry John, Cybernetic John, Emotional Discussions / Heart to Heart, POV John, Scars, Past Drug Use, Forehead Touching, Emotional Lovemaking, Kissing, Apologies, Kidnapping, Rescue Mission, BAMF John, Bed Sharing, Top Sherlock) – Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them. Part 1 of Realigning Gravity

Out There by DiscordantWords (T, 131,695 w., 10 Ch. || X-Files Fusion || Past Soldier John, Panic Attacks, POV Alternating Present Tense, Anxious John, Canon Adjacent, Deductions, Obsessive Sherlock,, Travelling, Sherlock’s Family, Jealous Sherlock, Mind Palace John, Awkward Flirting, Batting Cage, Kidnapped/Abducted John, Semi-Reverse Reichenbach, Worried/Anxious Sherlock, Hospital, Slow Burn, UST, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Coma John, Forehead Touching, Hand Holding, Drinking/Bars, Past Jolto) – FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

MARKED FOR LATER

One Bed That Wasn't Slept In, and Another That Was by ancientreader (E, 8,455 w., 1 Ch. || Bed Sharing, First Time) – John doesn’t mind sharing a bed with Sherlock. Sherlock dissents. Things go downhill from there.

The Perfect Place by meet_me_in_samarra (T, 10,070 w., 14 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting AU || Crack / Humour, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Only One Bed) – Sherlock needs a flatmate and already has the perfect person in mind. Now he only needs to convince his object of desire to move in and also find out if he desires Sherlock as well.

All of the Things I Need by thalialunacy (E, 10,337 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Parentlock with Rosie, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Big Brother / Uncle Mycroft, Frottage, Anal, First Kiss, First Time, Only One Bed, "Straight" John) – In which John has to be shoved into moving forward, Sherlock actually manages to be surprised, and Mycroft turns out to be an A+ uncle. (And they all live happily ever after, of course.)

The Cavern by elwinglyre (M, 28,323 w., 12 Ch. || The Beatles / 1960s Rockstar AU || Only One Bed, Mutual Pining, Rock and Roll History, Erotic Dreams, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Homophobia, Heavy Petting, Kissing, Inspired by Music, POV Third Person Alternating) – Sherlock is not into making magic. He doesn’t believe in it. He does, however, believe in making rock and roll history. His best chance is to join John Watson’s band, the Magic Makers. They begin at the Cavern. There he learns to believe in more than magic with a little help from his friends. AU is set in Liverpool during the early 60s—when homosexuality is a crime.

Roommates are for little people by alexxphoenix42 (E, 69,042 w., 14 Ch. || Teen/Unilock || Forced to Share a Bed, Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Fake Relationship, Sherlock is a Prick, Drinking, Inadvertent Drug Use, Family Wedding, Footballer John / Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Frottage, Slow Burn, Mild Dub Con, Cuddling While Sleeping, Slight Homophobia, Posh Boy, Dirty Dancing, Endearments, Nosy Family, Bathing Together, Mild Angst, UST/RST, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff) – John was looking forward to seeing his friends back at uni, but a new year brings new complications, not the least of which is a dorm room with only one bed, and a stroppy roommate with an utterly spectacular arse. God, John doesn't need the headache.

Trick or Treat by Accident and holmesian_love (M, 88,310 w., 8 Ch. || Halloween, Costume Parties / Masquerade, Love Confessions, Only One Bed, Injured John, Three Continents Watson, One Night Stand, Case Fic, Jealousy, Greg and John Relationship, Caring Mycroft, Ghosts) – Sherlock has a new case. One that John is unlikely to get on board with, so it's going to take some convincing. Little does he know that John is discovering new feelings and this whole adventure may unravel more than just a killer.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #bed sharing fics #only one bed fics

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expertacademicassignmenthelp · 1 year ago

Text

Cervical Cancer

Introduction

Cervical cancer is a significant health concern affecting women worldwide. It arises from abnormal cell growth in the cervix, often linked to the human papillomavirus (HPV). Despite advancements in prevention and treatment, cervical cancer remains a leading cause of cancer-related deaths among women. Understanding its causes, symptoms, risk factors, and prevention strategies is crucial for early detection and effective management.

1. Understanding Cervical Cancer

Cervical cancer originates in the cervix, the lower part of the uterus connecting to the vagina.

HPV, a common sexually transmitted infection, is a primary cause of cervical cancer, with certain strains posing higher risks.

The body’s immune response typically clears HPV infections, but persistent infections can lead to cervical cell abnormalities and eventually cancer.

2. Symptoms and Diagnosis

Cervical cancer may not present noticeable symptoms initially, making regular screenings essential for early detection.

Symptoms can include abnormal vaginal bleeding, pelvic pain, and unusual discharge.

Diagnostic methods include Pap tests, HPV DNA testing, colposcopy, and biopsy to confirm cervical cancer and determine its stage.

3. Treatment Options

Treatment depends on the cancer’s stage, size, and type, as well as the patient’s overall health and preferences.

Surgical interventions, such as hysterectomy or removal of cancerous tissue, are common for early-stage cervical cancer.

Advanced stages may require a combination of surgery, chemotherapy, radiation therapy, or targeted therapy to eliminate cancer cells and prevent recurrence.

4. Risk Factors and Prevention

Several factors increase the risk of developing cervical cancer, including HPV infection, smoking, early sexual activity, and weakened immune system.

Prevention strategies include HPV vaccination, routine Pap tests for early detection of precancerous lesions, practicing safe sex, and smoking cessation.

5. Impact on Women’s Health

Cervical cancer not only affects physical health but also has emotional, social, and financial repercussions on women and their families.

Access to screening, vaccination, and treatment services significantly impacts the prognosis and survival rates of women diagnosed with cervical cancer.

Addressing disparities in healthcare access and promoting awareness about cervical cancer prevention are crucial for improving women’s health outcomes globally.

Conclusion

Cervical cancer remains a significant public health challenge despite advancements in prevention and treatment. Early detection through regular screenings and vaccination against HPV can significantly reduce the burden of this disease. Moreover, addressing risk factors such as smoking and promoting safe sexual practices are vital for cervical cancer prevention. By raising awareness, improving access to healthcare services, and advocating for comprehensive cervical cancer prevention programs, we can strive towards reducing the incidence and mortality associated with this preventable disease, ultimately enhancing women’s health and well-being worldwide.

We wish you all the best in your medical education journey. In case you need any guidance or assistance during the learning process, do not hesitate to reach out to us.

Email at;

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#assignment help #healthcare #medical students #pharmacy colleges #cancer care #nursing school #nursing student #nursing #nurses #medicine #health sciences assignment health #health and wellness #health #medical school #medical help

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fancygremlin · 5 months ago

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I love how Warren, Gordon AND Clive are character foils of one another. Interestingly, all three of them is assigned the colour gold. The colour implies relevance… which contrasts pretty well how they are viewed or treated by the other characters.

Warren is the “golden egg”.

He is the most important asset Overhead ever obtained and YET— despite all that, he is not treated like a person... he barely classifies as human by the people working at Overhead. In most instances, people talk for him, over him, and as if he’s not even in the room... and no one (except Gordon) seem to find that bothersome. At the start of the podcast he is set to follow a trail of breadcrumbs to return to the Red Valley Research Facility, which led him to discover that everything he thought he knew (his wife, his co-workers, his job, EVERYTHING) was fake. Overnight, his life was ruined and everyone was treating this event as if they managed to pull off a surprise birthday party for him (there was even cake! Oh, how lucky!). He later drives a scalpel through his own hand and people are worried for maybe a minute about him before they decide to use the self inflicted injury as a fantastic opportunity to test the pod’s potential benefits for medical urgencies. Warren is dehumanised and reduced to nothing at every turn, even before taking part to the project.

Warren is seen as nothing more than just a "fun" science project. Comparing him to a lab rat would be too kind, because that would imply that the people carrying out the experiments care about his wellbeing and are tracking his health (mental and physical) and ensuring his safety at each and every step of the way. Instead, he is simply viewed as nothing more than a test tube, a petri dish, a limited stock of valuable cells to routinely freeze over and thaw.

Gordon has a car that he lovingly calls the “golden bullet”.

He is always shoved in the background, belittled and treated poorly by his colleagues. He receives the most hostile comments from the people around him... quite routinely, too. When he worked at Overhead, he was considered as nothing but a corporate drone. Clive calls him "stillwater" to demonstrate how inconsequential and invisible he was to the company. Later, when he becomes the archivist at Red Valley, he is described as a man-child and treated like he has zero brain functions (he even gets called Igor, in reference to the character of the Frankenstein movie), he is made fun of constantly. No one expects anything of him... and Gordon internalised this, too. No one sees his importance, and as a result Gordon doesn't either. In reality he IS the one at the heart of the story: he was researching the seed vault way before anyone else, he is the one that records everything and subsequently provids the material that sacks Bryony, he is the one that explores the secret tunnel to aid Aubrey's plan and he is Warren's lifeline and only safe space while he continues to go in and out of hypersleep. He is the ONE person that helps Warren realise he doesn't deserve the harsh treatment he had to endure.

How fitting that Gordon, a character that struggles to find their purpose and their usefulness, is not even directly tied to the motif himself... his car is. And how interesting that the car is only lovingly referred to as golden, when in reality it is just coppery in colour.

Clive is the "golden boy".

He is at the front of the Kontinue project, and yet, no one really takes him seriously. He hires assistants for the project putting more importance on their appearance, rather than their qualifications. He dresses up in expensive clothes and suits to show how important he is to the company, only for the actual relevant people to not care what he thinks. During the meeting with Malcolm and Hester he was talked over, ordered around, treated more like a waiter than the important R&D person he is supposed to be... and I can't tell if he actually doesn't see this, or if he is refusing to face this reality. Bryony was fired because she was too smart for her own good and too dangerous, Clive was kept on the Kontinue project because he is being promised status and relevance, if he keeps doing what he is being told. He routinely threatens people, and still he never commits to the extremely graphic (and creative) threats he throws around: he is not the one that used the gun that one time, it was Bryony. After he is shot in the knee, his “get well soon” card is bland, generic and unsympathetic. No affection or warmth was being conveyed from his co-workers, despite the fact that he has been referred to as “the man of the hour” on multiple occasions before. And most importantly… he is recovering (seemingly) all on his lonesome. Just a Blue Sky to keep him company, while eating sad ready-meals and microwave lasagna. Where are his beloved wife and kid?

Clive is all appearance and no substance, all bark and no bite.

These characters seem to not be quite enough to classify as gold, they may be pyrite, or fool's gold instead:

Warren is the pyrite from which a lot of gold can be extracted. However, once all the gold is gone, he is going to be tossed aside, as his value is limited to and tied solely to its gold contents.

Gordon is the pyrite that was found by people who only see value in gold. No matter what, the people at Overhead will never appreciate the properties and qualities and uses of pyrite when they are so hellbent in digging and mining for gold.

Clive is the pyrite that is trying so hard to pass as real gold and wants to be treated as just as worthy. He is able to fool people for a bit, but pyrite might shine as brightly as gold and share some qualities and properties... but he'll never be the real deal... and some people might have started to notice.

#i'll start referring to them as the fools gold trio i think #anyways i am putting these three pyrites in the microwave to analyse their thermal decomposition as we speak #red valley #red valley podcast #red valley spoilers #warren godby #gordon porlock #cw clive schill #i am still not giving up on using clive like a content warning tag as a joke #is he going through a divorce right now? i wanna know. mostly because this would make his joke about being warrens new wife so much funnier

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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 1 year ago

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I Wish You The Best

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: You thought you had it all figured out, but when a certain green-eyed stranger keeps showing up in your life and turns it upside down you wonder if it’s best to push him away or if you should let him in. Reader is a grad student in medical school that doesn’t know anything about the supernatural world. This is the first fic in my Before You Go Universe, but can be read as stand alone.

Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Age Difference (Reader is early to mid-20's and Dean is probably early to mid-30's)

Word Count: 5.5K

Warnings: Some swearing (once or twice), Mentions of sex (not explicit at all), Implied sex, Self-deprecating Thoughts (Dean), Dean might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Did you understand anything from that lecture?" Tim asks nudging your shoulder.

The sour smell of beer and sweat fades in and out of your nose as you make your way to the Science building through the mass of students on the way to the football game. It was a Thursday night, Thursday night for everyone else meant tailgating, cheap beer, and face paint, but Thursday night for you meant four hours in the anatomy lab surrounded by the oppressive smell of formaldehyde and bent over a table examining the internal intricacies of the human body.

It wasn’t unwelcome, you knew what you signed up for when you decided to go to medical school, but you still wished that the lab was earlier in the day instead of at 6 pm.

The air is filled with the dull throb of energy, pulsing with the music from speakers all over campus, and through the throngs of people that pass you on the way to the stadium. The buzz of excitement in the air vibrated through your nerve endings. If you paid attention to how well the football team was doing, you would have known that tonight was the championship, but the closest you got to pigskin was the bag of pork rinds in your backpack and the occasional football player that asked you for help finding research materials during your shifts at the library.

"Nope." You reply jostling past a group of guys toting a giant stuffed pig wearing jersey of the school’s rival while they catcall some girls up ahead dressed from head to toe in bright red.

"Then why did you keep nodding?"

"Because Professor Drake was staring right at me!"

"You didn't have to make eye contact."

"It's a little late for that don't you think?" You smile up at him. He's taller than you, with dark hair falling forward into his glasses and a lean build. "But it's alright, I'll just binge watch YouTube videos."

Tim laughs adjusting his backpack over his shoulder. You had been lab partners since your first year, randomly assigned and forced to collaborate, but after many late night study sessions and mental breakdowns, Tim was one of your only friends.

“You seem to spend a lot of time on YouTube." He smiles.

"It's free education."

"Seems ridiculous to pay all this money just to learn it on YouTube."

"If YouTube handed out degrees for watching videos I’d be a doctor by now. I’d probably also have a degree in culinary arts.” You look down to check the watch on your wrist. You were both running late for lab. Dr. Welsh hated it when students were late, in fact, he was notorious for locking the door. Each week there was always some poor soul that banged on the door for entry, but Dr. Welsh knew no mercy. One time, you witnessed another student attempt to sneak in through the window an hour late. Dr. Welsh made them go back out the way they came, despite the lab being on the third floor.

At least the student brought a ladder with him.

“Culinary arts?”

“I like pie. Plus baking helps me cope with my stress.” You knock into his shoulder to shut him up. “What? You don’t watch anything weird on YouTube?”

“I usually start watching videos to understand the lectures and suddenly it’s been 7 hours, it’s 3 am and I’m watching a timelapse of metal rusting.”

“We’ve all been there buddy.”

"Hey doll-face!" You hear from somewhere behind you, but you ignore it, believing it to be another group of guys who splash beer over the sidewalk.

You glance down at your watch again.

"We're not going to be late." Jake says sensing your anxiety. "We've got 5 minutes."

"Early is on time, on time is late, late is inexcusable." You sing-song.

"Dr. Welsh embroider that on a pillow for you?"

"No it’s just-"

Someone grabs your backpack and pulls you back a step. What the- You whirl around prepared to cuss out a drunken frat boy, but you weren't expecting Dean Winchester.

"Dean." You say in surprise.

He looks better than you remember. Dean's wearing a red flannel covered by a black jacket, his hair tousled just the right amount to look effortless, his green eyes crinkled around the edges as his mouth pulls into a smile that makes your knees weak.

Your relationship, if you could even call it that, began your first week of classes, two years ago. You had just moved into your apartment and met your new roommate, but instead of going out to the new student mixer with her, you decided to stay in and unpack. It was past midnight when you heard a commotion in the apartment next door and when you opened your front door to investigate, you found Dean in the hallway leaning against the wall.

His clothes were torn, he had a knife in his hand, blood was soaked through the front of his shirt, but when his eyes met yours, you weren't afraid. He looked so broken, so small that you had to help him. So you pulled him into your apartment and stitched him up the best you could, while he tried to lie about how it happened and explain why he looked like he'd been through a blender. Dean had never been good at lying to you, not even then. He was also the biggest baby you had ever met when it came to wound care.

In the months that followed Dean continued to show up, each time with injuries less and less life threatening asking you to help him, until one day he showed up perfectly fine and continued to show up. You would spend every minute together for a few days and then he would leave like nothing happened, only to show up again in a few weeks and it would start all over again.

Sometimes you thought that he wanted more than just a few days together, but then he would just leave, not giving you any other explanation. You hadn't expected to fall for him as hard as you did, but each time he left it broke you. You found yourself hoping each day that he would show up, only to be disappointed when he didn't. Days would drag by fading into shades of gray until finally Dean would show up and everything went back to color, only to sink back into monochrome when he left. The last time you had seen him was a month ago, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and told him not to come back.

But now he was here, again.

"Hey Doll-face." Dean smiles wider.

You try to ignore how your heart stutters in your chest when he smiles at you.

"Do you know this guy?" Tim asks you taking a step forward to put himself between Dean and you.

Dean's eyes trace Tim, smile slipping into confident smirk as he sizes him up. He opens his mouth, but you interrupt whatever thought was about to come out.

"Unfortunately I do." You sigh. "Tim can you give us a minute."

"Sure. But-"

"I know." You say, understanding that he was going to remind you what time it was. "We won't be late."

"I'll be over there." Tim puts a healthy distance between the two of you, far enough to give you space, but close enough that he can see you.

Dean is still smirking at him. "Boyfriend?" His eyes flit to yours, amused.

"Lab partner." You adjust your grip on your backpack unsure what to do.

I said everything I needed to say the last time. I thought that was it. Did he think I didn't mean it?

You think about the last time he was here, when you told him that you couldn't do this anymore and when he finally left, how you skipped all your classes and stayed in bed for two days clutching a pillow to your chest and wishing that it was him. It had felt like the end. The end of whatever the hell this had been. Sometimes you wished that you had defined it the first time you slept together, wished that you had told him you didn't do that ever, that you didn't just sleep with people without feelings because you knew sooner or later it would end up like this.

Then again you knew that you always had feelings for him, since the moment you locked eyes with his the night you met.

"He’s cute. If you’re into that geeky kind of thing. Though you could always date Sam-"

"What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood. Plus I didn’t want to miss the big game.” Dean's eyes flit to the mass of people swarming around you, shouting and singing as they stumble down the cracked pavement. The dark shadows of the buildings stretch long over campus, illuminated by the lamplights that line the sidewalks.

"You should have called"

"I did. You never pick up" He arches a perfect eyebrow.

"Most would take that as a hint"

"Well Sweetheart given my profession you not picking up made me worry."

By now you knew exactly what he did. Despite Dean not acting like he wanted a relationship, when all was quiet and it was just the two of you laying in bed he confided in you, told you things about his life that made you hold him close and wish that you could make him forget all about it. You loved those soft moments with Dean, when it felt like more and you could imagine that Dean wanted to be as wrapped up in you as you were in him.

Your heart clenches in your chest as you try to forget it all, forget the day he walked into your life, and forget how much you like him.

"I can’t do this with you right now, I’ve got a lab in 3 minutes." You turn towards where Tim is standing, prepared to leave.

"Come on you can blow off one lab.” Dean grabs your backpack turning you back to face him. “We can go to the big game. You know I can’t say no to free beer-“ The look in his eyes is joking.

He doesn't understand.

You shake him off. "No I can't Dean. This is important to me. This is my life. I can't drop everything just because you show up out of the blue."

"It wouldn't be out of the blue if you picked up your phone." His smile dips into an attractive pout that makes it very difficult to think.

"Dean why are you here?"

"I told you, I was in the neighborhood-"

"We talked about this. I can't do this anymore."

"I remember you talking about it."

"Yes and I remember you leaving." You snap as the memory of the last time you saw him rises in the back of your throat. You think about the days that followed, when you couldn't focus and flunked a test.

"Y/n-“ Dean sighs.

"Look, I like spending time with you, but I can't keep doing this to myself. You show up, we spend every second together for days, and then you leave. It would be one thing if we were trying to do long distance, but we’re not. All I get is radio silence for weeks and then you show up all over again like nothing happened, expecting to pick up right where we left off, and the cycle begins all over again."

"I don't go radio silent for weeks. It’s you that doesn’t pick up your phone or text me back.”

"Yes you do and I can't do it. I won't do it. Because every time you leave I wonder if it's the last time I'll ever see you and-" You take in a breath to stop the ball of emotion that lodges itself in your throat. "It does something to me. And I'm not saying that what you do is any less important than what I'm trying to accomplish here. I’m not telling you to stop hunting. But this is my life Dean, my future. And I don’t want to put that in jeopardy because you show up every few weeks when you’re feeling restless. I want more than a few days every few weeks. I want more and I'm worth more. And if you can't give that to me that's fine, but please stop coming around and so I can find someone else who can."

The expression on Dean's face shifts, it's no longer the playful smirk or attractive pout, it almost looks heartbroken.

But that can't be right. Dean doesn't see me that way.

You look at where Tim is waiting for you to avoid Dean's gaze. He’s looking down at the watch on his wrist and you can feel his apprehension.

"I've got to get to my lab." You turn away from Dean, but stop halfway to Tim. "It was good to see you Dean. I wish you the best."

As Tim and you begin to walk away, you can feel Dean's eyes on you the whole way up the stairs into the science building, but you refuse to turn back.

"Are you okay?" Tim whispers.

"I will be. Let's just go before Dr. Welsh locks the door." You mutter while pushing down the guilt that rose when you thought of how Dean looked when you walked away.

Despite Dr. Welsh’s attempts to lock the door, you were far too angry with Dean to let another man stand in your way, so when you and Tim arrived to lab 10 seconds before the clock struck 6, you shoved your boot in the door before Dr. Welsh could shut it. And by some miracle he let you in. Maybe it was the murder in your eyes.

Tim had been stunned, you were usually more reserved, not quick tempered. But everything that happened with Dean rubbed you the wrong way.

You couldn’t decide if you liked him or hated him. Right now the hate was winning.

How dare he? You thought to yourself, hand clenching on the scalpel so tightly that Tim backed up. How dare he just show up again after I told him not to?

“Y/n, are you okay?” Tim had asked.

“I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?” You’d snapped at him.

Even Dr. Welsh had given you a wide berth through lab.

After you cleaned up everything it was 10:26 pm, which meant you had a little time before your late shift in the library.

“Did you want to go see if that shawarma food truck is still parked around the corner?” Tim asks hesitantly.

“No. I’m just gonna go to the library and study before my shift.” You mumble, shouldering your backpack and ignoring the urge to think about Dean.

Hopefully he took the hint and he’s gone. The thought brought a prick of guilt. Would that be the last time I ever saw him? Would those be the last words I ever said to him? You fight the urge to call him, to apologize, because the one thing you had wanted to say was that you liked him and you didn’t want him to go, you wanted him to stay in your life permanently. Sure long distance was hard, but for him it would be worth it.

“Oh.” Tim pauses for a minute. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Huh?”

“Well that Dean guy. You seemed kinda upset.”

“I was- am. But it’s okay, give me a few hours I’ll be over it. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

“Make sure to send the link to that Timelapse of metal rusting.” You try to smile, but the joke falls flat.

“Okay.” Tim watches you go.

The library was only a 9 minute walk from the science building, but it still felt too long. You longed to be lost in your notes, to think of anything else other than Dean, but you couldn’t.

Why did he have to come back? Why couldn’t he have just let it lie? I was doing better-

You think about the weeks that followed his last visit, a haze of homework, tests, and work.

Well, I was doing okay.

The thrum of music is still in the air, but now less people pass you as you walk down the sidewalk, and the ones that do are holding hands and laughing. Your thoughts shift to Dean again.

I like him, but I have to get over him because it’s not going anywhere. You think about the first time you slept together. Maybe this is my fault, maybe I should have defined this from the beginning. I mean, I know the kind of person he is…

That thought makes you pause. Sure the first few times you’d patched his wounds Dean was sexy and flirty, but all the times that followed he seemed, sweet, charming. It wasn’t that you spent every moment in bed, he had taken you out to dinner at the diner down the street, fought with you over the last slice of pie, took you to a bar for drinks where he shamelessly beat you at pool, other times he waited for you to be done with your classes to make sure that you didn't have to walk home alone at night. You remember how mad he had been when you told him you did that, but gas was so expensive and it was easier to walk the four blocks.

Someone grabs your arm from behind, pulling you out of your memories, and you finally snap. Using the only self defense move you knew, besides S-I-N-G from Miss Congeniality, you knock off the hand and flip the offender over your shoulder prepared to spray them in the face with the mace in your pocket.

But then you realize who it is.

Dean frowns up at you from the ground. “When I taught you that, I didn’t expect you to use it on me.”

“Just be happy that I didn’t pepper spray you.” Your eyes narrow.

Maybe I should. It would make me feel better.

“Would have been the highlight of my night.” He stands up from the ground brushing off the front of his clothes with a pointed look.

“Dean what are you still doing here?”

“I want to talk.”

“I’ve said all I need to.”

“But I haven’t.”

“I don’t care. You’ve heard what I need to say and I’m sick of you not listening.”

“Y/n-“

“Fine, I’ll say it one more time, but listen this time. I've never, never depended on anyone else in my life. It's been me, me for a long time.” You poke your finger into his chest to emphasize your point. “Then you just sauntered in and changed everything. You made me care about you, worry about you, and you made me depend on you showing up in my life. Every time you leave it breaks me. Every time I’m in a funk for days. The last time you left, I cried for two days and I didn’t go to any of my classes! I'm trying to be serious about my life. And I can't do that if you show up every few weeks and make me expect something and then leave a few days later and I'm devastated.”

Dean’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t know that.”

“I have to get over you Dean, and I can't do that if you keep showing up. So please just go.” You turn away from him.

His hand comes down on your arm again to turn you back to him. “I don’t want you to get over me.”

“What?”

“Do you think I like leaving you? Do you really think it’s that easy for me?” He looks hurt.

“It certainly seems to be when you walk out after a few days with a smile like it means nothing! Like I mean nothing-“ You fight the tears that burn against your eyes. You wanted to be something for him just as much as he was something for you, but you were afraid. You hadn’t depended on anyone since you graduated and moved away from home. You weren’t used to needing someone in your life this much.

"You mean everything!” Dean shouts grabbing your shoulders. “It’s me that means nothing."

You blink your eyes for a second, not comprehending what he’s trying to say. "Dean what are you talking about?"

"I didn't think you wanted that-" He looks down.

Your eyes trace the slump in his shoulders, the frown on his handsome face, and the way he won’t meet your gaze.

What is he talking about?

You try to think of a time that you’d seen him look so vulnerable, but the only time you imagine was the night you met.

"Wanted what?"

"Me.” Dean’s voice is a whisper.

"I'm confused."

His eyebrows are furrowed, lips pressed into a tight line. “I’m nothing like you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re a little younger than me and you’re smart and you’ve got this bright future ahead of you. You don’t need someone like me dragging you down-“

“Someone like you? Dragging me down? Dean what are you talking about?" You can't comprehend what he's saying. You reach up to cup his cheeks, but Dean pulls back from you, glancing away.

“I didn’t go to a fancy college, I barely finished high school. I’ve spent most of my life in motel rooms committing credit card fraud and trying not to die. And then I met you. You’re funny and caring and so smart, and I just thought that you would like it more if I came by every once in a while to relieve some tension. I didn’t think that you would want me to stay.”

He didn’t think that I would want him? That can't be right. Dean is so confident usually. You search his face and see the genuine vulnerability behind his green eyes.

“Are you serious?” You ask him.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Dean, you are smart-“

“Not the same way you are”

“Dean.” You can’t help but take his hand. Dean’s green eyes focus on yours for a second, wide and open. “You don’t have to go to college to be smart. You’re resourceful and you know more about supernatural creatures than anyone else. Even the top scientists and doctors in the world don’t believe in them and they went to stuffy old colleges and fight with one another over who’s smarter. I don’t care that you didn’t go to a fancy college. What you do is important, probably more important than what I’m going to do. You protect people, you’ve saved the world more than once, and sure maybe it’s not glamorous to some people but it is to me.”

His eyes widen in surprise.

“Have you thought that maybe I like spending time with you because you’re so different than the people I see everyday?” You ask him softly, squeezing his hand.

“No.” Dean mutters.

“I wasn’t born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I don’t have lavish wealthy parents bankrolling me. My dad is a mechanic. I work two jobs and send him money so I don’t have to worry about him. Sometimes I feel like a fraud. But when you show up I don’t feel like a freak. With you I feel like I don’t have to pretend, I can just be me. And I like you, a lot. This has never just been about relieving tension or sex for me. Ever. I mean it’s nice-“

“Just nice?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

You flush bright red. “I like spending time with you without that too. All the times we spent laying in bed or went to a bar or went to get food, and we talked were equally as wonderful for me. I like talking with you. I like hearing about your life. I just assumed that you had someone in every state that you visit when you’re feeling restless and that you didn’t want a relationship.”

“There’s no one else. Hasn’t been since I met you.”

Deans eyes lock with yours as you comprehend what he just confessed.

“Really?” Your voice is only a whisper.

“Fuck I’m not good at this romantic comedy shit-“ He mutters to himself shaking his head. “I like you too. I wish that I could be here all the time. I hate leaving you. It’s too quiet. When I’m not here all I do is think about you, what you’re doing, how your day was.”

Your entire body explodes with his words, heart beating so fast you think it’ll grow wings and take flight.

“When I was younger I used to laugh at Sam because he wanted a normal life, but with you I understand. You’re so different than anyone I’ve ever met and it hurts me when I’m away from you.” Dean continues with a soft smile that makes you lose all feeling in your legs.

He takes your other hand. “I understand that what you’re doing is important and I’m not asking you to quit school. All I’m asking is that you give me a chance. I want to make this work. I know that long distance isn’t easy, but I want to try.” His eyes search yours, begging for a answer, but you can barely breathe let alone speak. You watch his face fall as he takes your silence as your answer. “But I understand if you don’t want to, because you are worth more. You’re worth more than a few days, than a phone call or a text. You deserve someone who can be here with you all the time. You’re worth more than what I can give you. And you shouldn’t have to settle-“

You grab the front of his flannel because you can’t think of anything to say and pull him down to you for a kiss. Pins and needles trace down your spine as his soft lips move against yours. He smiles against your mouth, folding you into him, his large hand on the small of your back just under your backpack causing warmth to shoot down your spine. You lose yourself in the way his body fits around yours

“I’m not settling.” Your hands cup his cheeks as you look deep into his eyes. “I never want you to feel that way, because you are worth a hundred of any man I have ever met in my life. And if it’s my cross to bear to make you understand that every day of my life, then so be it. Because I would be lucky to spend any amount of time with you. I don’t want anyone else. I just want you, Dean. I’ve wanted you since the day we met and every day after. And I’m yours as long as you want me.”

Dean’s smile breaks open something in the pit of your stomach and goosebumps scorch across your skin. “I can’t imagine not wanting you.” He presses his forehead against yours.

You stand there with his warm hand pressed into your back trying to think of another time that you felt even a fraction of what you feel for him. You think about your high school boyfriend, about a few of the guys you dated in during your undergrad years, but you come up with nothing. Because you can’t compare him to anyone else you’ve ever met. And it hurt you to think that Dean thought so little of himself in the grand scheme of things.

He leans down to kiss you again, pulling you against his chest so tight that everything blissfully falls away.

“Are you hungry?” He whispers against your lips after a minute.

“Yes, but my shift at the library starts soon. I’m there til 2.” You tighten your hands at the back of his neck, not wanting to let him go.

“Okay. I’ll go with you.”

“Dean it’s okay if you just want to go back to my apartment and sleep. I can give you the key-“ You notice the dark circles under his eyes, but you know that Dean wasn’t one to complain about being tired.

“It’s worth being tired if I get to see you.” Dean smiles. “But I’ll go get us some food, because I’m hungry too.”

“Don’t forget the pie.”

“Have I ever?” He brushes his lips to yours one more time, but you don’t remove your arms from around his neck. “You’re going to have to let me go doll.”

“Just 5 more minutes.”

You spend the weekend together in your apartment. All those blissful moments together solidify the thought that this is real, that this time it’s going to be different. Every night going to bed with Dean tucking you against him and waking up every morning with your head on his chest feels like a dream, and you never want to wake. Every kiss and intimate moment between you feels like more, and you have to keep reminding yourself that it isn’t just sex, hasn’t ever been just sex. Dean wants to be there with you all the time, hold you close to him and share things with you. And this time you finally understand that you do help him forget and know that you do bring him as much comfort as he brings you.

When Monday comes and Dean has to go, you try not to think of it as the end.

Dean leans back against the door of the Impala, his hands on your hips, green eyes blazing in the sun, but it’s his eyes that warm you more than the sun’s rays.

"Sweetheart-" Dean begins, sensing what you’re thinking. His thumbs rub smooth circles against waist where your t-shirt rests.

"I know." You press your face into his flannel, inhaling the scent you ascribe to Dean. He smells like oil, leather, and the spicy scent of the soap he uses that tickles your nose.

"Hey." His free hand comes under your chin to raise your gaze back to his. "I promise I'm gonna come back. I promise that we're going to make this work. It’s going to be different.” He cups your cheek, eyes soft and understanding.

“I know, but you’re still leaving.” Your tighten your arms around his chest.

“I wish I didn’t have to. But Sam called, he needs me-“

“I know.” You breathe.

You don’t want Dean to feel any worse than he does about leaving, especially when you remember what he said to you a few days ago, about you deserving more and about how he wished he could be more for you. Deep down you know that both of you are determined to make this work, so you put on a smile.

“It’s okay.” You gently rub his back. “You’ll be back in 2 weeks and I’ll be on spring break in a month.”

“Does that mean I’ll get to see you in a bikini?” Dean grins.

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“Hmm. Well until I see you-“ He raises his right hand from where it rests on your hip to remove the large silver ring from his finger. "Don't panic, it's not an engagement ring." Dean's smile breaks you a little. "Just me promising that I'll come back, that I'll call and text you so much that you'll be sick of me." He slides the ring onto your thumb, the weight comforting.

"I could never be sick of you."

“Just you wait.” He winks, holding your hand to his chest. “I bet I can prove you wrong.”

“I welcome the challenge.”

The kiss goodbye is bittersweet, but you hold yourself together, refusing to cry as Dean gets into his car and leaves. You watch the Impala disappear around the corner, taking your heart with it, but just as it does your phone rings.

“Hello?”

“I miss you.” Dean’s voice fills the line and this time you can’t stop the tears.

“I miss you too.”

“I promise I’ll be back in two weeks.”

“Okay. Please be careful.” You remember all the stories he's told you over the time you’ve known him, all the horrible things that happened to him and Sam. Sometimes you wish he hadn’t, because you can’t help but worry.

“I’m always careful.” You can hear him rolling his eyes.

“As the person who has spent the past 2 years patching you up, I can say with certainty that you are not always careful.”

“Then I promise to be more careful than usual.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” The wind picks up, pulling your hair from the ponytail at the back of your head.

“I’ll call you when I make it back to the bunker.”

“Good.”

“Bye Sweetheart.”

“Bye Dean.”

Your gaze drops to the heavy ring on your thumb and you hold tight to the hope and belief that this time is different, allowing the memories of the past few days to brush away any doubts that threaten the thought of what the future will bring.

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