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incognit0slut · 9 months

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The Last Laugh

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer is forced to share a room with his rival. This is part two of Lose Control but can be read as a standalone.

warnings: sexual tension, a lot of banter, female oral, edging, rough sex, unplanned creampie (is that a thing?) words: 5,3k a/n: someone requested a part two with a one-bedroom trope and since this is one of my favorite stories, I had to do it

...Thinkin' you're winnin' with all of your grinning but I got the last laugh...

"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH REID."

The idea was absurd. Ridiculous. Insane. Out of all the people in her team, why was she paired up with him?

According to Garcia, the only choice she had to spend the night in this remote town was with the person she least wanted to engage with. Did Garcia not know how much she had been trying to avoid him? How much she had been attempting to act as if the mere proximity with him wasn't making her lose her mind?

"Why not?" Garcia asked, handing her a key. "He's not that bad of a roommate, well, if you overlook his tendency to share random facts in the middle of the night, then he's really not that bad."

"Do you not hear yourself?" She steadied her gaze to her friend. "You want me to share a room with the person I hate the most?"

Garcia rolled her eyes. "You guys really should stop with this nonsense. You're both grown adults."

"I'll treat him like an adult if he starts to act like one." Her eyes drifted toward the man of the hour, standing at the other end of this old-looking hotel that seemed too close to falling apart, engaged in conversation with Luke. She then glanced back at Garcia. "Why can't he share a room with Luke?"

"Because I'm sharing a room with Luke."

She shot Garcia an incredulous look. "You're rooming with Luke? Since when?"

"Since always. We're buddies, remember?" She cocked an eyebrow and Garcia sighed. "Don't look at me like that, we're just friends. Besides, you and Reid are the only ones left without a roommate. Consider this your opportunity for personal growth or whatever."

"Personal growth? More like a crash course in patience. And what's the deal with Reid anyway? Why does he always have to be the exception?"

Garcia leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Well, let's just say Luke and I enjoy our peace. Reid, on the other hand, is like a walking encyclopedia. I figured it's your turn to experience that charm up close."

She scowled, a mix of annoyance and resignation on her face. "Charm? That's a generous way to put it."

Garcia stared back with an air of nonchalance that only seemed to amplify her exasperation. "Look, it's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"

She shot her friend a withering glance as if the absurdity of the situation needed no further clarification. "The worst is that I might end up committing another crime in this town before the night ends."

Garcia raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You're exaggerating, Reid is harmless. Plus, all the other rooms are fully booked. Consider yourself lucky we even found a place to stay."

"Lucky is not the word I would use right now."

"Just try to survive the night without killing each other," Garcia chuckled, ignoring the glare shot towards her way. "Give him a chance."

Her incredulous stare intensified. "A chance? Garcia, the man tried to argue with me about the most efficient way to organize my desk. And you know what's ironic? His own desk is a complete mess."

Garcia sighed, her playful demeanor softening. "One night, Y/n, that's all I'm asking."

She pursed her lips together. She could go on about how bad it would be to share a room with him, but the thing was, it would raise questions she did not want to answer. There was a limit to how much her disdain could stop her from entertaining the idea, and her avoidance, she realized, was more than just mere hatred.

Annoyed that she couldn't do anything to escape the situation, she shot a disapproving glance at him, who was still engrossed in conversation with Luke. With a resigned shake of her head, she turned back to Garcia.

"Whatever." She sighed, begrudgingly accepting the key Garcia handed her. "But if he starts reciting facts about, I don't know, the history of dental floss or something, I'm blaming you."

Garcia laughed. "Fair enough." She shoved her shoulder playfully. "But who knows, maybe you'll discover he's not as bad as you think."

That was the problem. Spencer Reid, in her eyes, was starting to... change. And she hated that. Why was the man she had never bothered to befriend occupying her mind more than she wanted him to? Was it because she now knew what it felt like to have his body pressed against hers? What it felt like to have him grunt in pleasure right in her ear? Just because they had sex?

Nope. Nuh-huh. She wasn't going to think of him differently tonight—or ever, for that matter.

She gave Garcia one last glare before making her way across the creaky floorboards toward him. Noticing her presence coming close, Spencer looked up and a slight tension filled the air as his gaze locked with hers. She quickly shook her head.

"You're sleeping on the floor," she declared with a point of her finger when she reached him.

A small amused smile played on his lips. "We're sharing a room?"

"Unfortunately," she grumbled. She then focused her attention on Luke. "Do you want to switch roommates?"

Luke chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm stuck with Garcia. Besides," he patted Spencer on the shoulder, "Don't act like you're not eager to spend the night with him."

Her eyes went wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Luke simply shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and walked away, leavingher staring at Spencer with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What did you tell him?"

Spencer frowned. "Nothing." He sighed when her stare didn't back down. "Nothing, I swear. Luke tends to have his own way of interpreting things."

She narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment. She turned on her heels, not waiting for him as she walked to their destinated room. She felt his presence close behind her but kept her mouth closed.

Spencer, on the other hand, found the situation amusing. He really shouldn't find any entertainment in her visible annoyance towards him, but he did. He couldn't help but notice that despite being angry, she still looked unbelievably attractive. The scowl on her face, her pursed lips, her chest heaving in anger. He took a step closer.

"This must be hard for you," he commented.

"What is?" she shot back, maintaining her brisk pace.

"Staying the night with me when you've been avoiding me."

Her jaw tightened. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Really? So you haven't gone out of your way to avoid looking in my direction ever since what happened?"

Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, refusing to show any vulnerability. "That doesn't mean I've been actively avoiding you. It just means I have better things to do than engage in pointless conversations."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Pointless conversations, or conversations you're trying to avoid?"

She shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. "You know," he began again. "You do seem to be acting differently ever since that day."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Spencer couldn't resist a faint smile at her denial. "You really don't know what I'm referring to?"

She huffed, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The narrow hallway seemed to amplify the unresolved tension between them as they stopped right in front of their room. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her annoyance.

She tried to ignore him by unlocking the door, but as she pushed it open, she felt his presence looming behind her. His proximity was so close that she held her breath as he gripped the edge of the door in front of her. His breath brushed her neck and her eyes involuntarily fluttered close when his other hand slowly rested on her waist.

"Should I help you jog your memory back?"

Her eyes shot open. She shoved him aside and stepped into the room. "No funny business, Reid. Keep your dick in your pants tonight."

His laughter lingered in the air as he followed her inside, closing the door behind him. "The question is," he taunted. "Can you keep it in my pants?"

She scoffed. Who was he and what did he do to the Spencer she once knew? The guy she remembered lacked any humor and always kept his distance from her. It was hard to believe a simple encounter—could you call sex as simple?—had turned him so crude, or maybe, she considered, this was his true self all along.

She decided to ignore his words as her eyes scanned the cramped room, containing only an old dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed, which she pointed at assertively. "That bed is mine."

His brow furrowed. "Why do I have to sleep on the floor?"

"You want me to sleep on the floor?" Her hand gracefully moved to her chest in a dramatic gasp. "Where is your chivalry, Dr. Reid?"

"We could share the bed."

She simply stared back at him, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and incredulity. Spencer, unable to resist stirring the pot, shot back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, it won't be so bad. Did you know that the concept of sharing a bed has been a cultural practice for centuries? It symbolizes unity and—"

"Reid," she interrupted, shooting him a pointed look. "If you're trying to annoy me, you're doing an excellent job."

He grinned, clearly enjoying her irritation. "I'm just stating a fact. Sharing a room, sharing a bed—it's all deeply rooted in human history."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I highly doubt our situation is deeply rooted in anything other than poor hotel arrangements."

Spencer chuckled, undeterred, his laughter resonating in the dimly lit room as he took a step closer to her. The worn-out floor creaked beneath his feet, echoing the subtle tension that lingered in the confined space of the room. "You never know. We might be making history right now."

She shot him a skeptical look, her gaze unwavering. "I doubt historians will be interested in this disaster."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this skeptical, or is it just reserved for me?"

"It's just reserved for annoying people," she retorted, not missing a beat. She took a deliberate step closer to him, the air thick with a blend of tension and... something else. Her heart quickened as his gaze swiftly swept over her lips before dragging back to her eyes.

"Really?" He closed the distance between them, and she held her ground, tilting her head back to meet his gaze due to his towering height. A subtle trace of his scent hung in the air, his presence enveloping her. She felt a sudden shift in the air, her senses heightened, and her eyes traced the contours of his face—the sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth reflected in his hazel eyes. She also could sense the initial surge of longing coursing through her body.

Shit.

"Believe it or not," he added, his voice a low murmur that resonated in the confined space. "I find your company quite fascinating."

"Fascinating?" She responded, but it came out more breathless than she had intended. She took a deep breath, trying to act as if his close proximity wasn't affecting her. Her pulse, however, betrayed her composure. And it was evident in her voice. "T- That's a stretch."

"Really?" His lips curved into a subtle smile, catching the shift in her demeanor. "I think there's a small part of you that's enjoying this."

"Enjoy what? Your random facts and annoying habits?"

Spencer leaned forward. A tension crackled between them, and it swam in his eyes and played on his lips. It pulled at her chest, making her heartbeat flutter in her throat, and to her surprise, he extended his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch left a searing sensation on her skin.

"Admit it, you're starting to see a different side of me."

She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge his point. "One night doesn't change anything."

"You're right." His hand made its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "It can change everything."

Before she could register what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, holding her still as his lips crashed on hers. A thousand things flooded her mind all at once—each of them revolving around him. The way she melted into him felt oddly natural. The way his hands began to roam her body, the way her mouth opened for his tongue, the way her kisses became hungrier, also felt natural.

Which was bad. Really, really bad. This wasn't supposed to happen. One time, she could call it a mistake. But allowing him to have his way with her for the second time... there was no one to blame but herself. She should push him away and set the boundaries she was supposed to set the moment he invaded her personal space. But it was hard to think rationally when he tasted so good.

It was hard to stand her ground when his teeth softly nibbled her bottom lip. It was hard to think straight when she was already pulling hard at the locks at the base of his neck as his tongue explored her mouth, blindly walking her back until her back was pressing onto the wall.

"Look at you," he laughed against her lips. "You're not pushing me away."

"Shut up," she hissed, trying her best to keep her tone icy. But then again, it was hard to stay angry when he was touching her like this. His greedy hand traveled up her thighs, massaging the plush flesh. His fingers finally found the hem of her pants, and he swallowed her moan when they dipped underneath the material, slipping right underneath her panties.

Her breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between her folds, spreading her slick before finding its rightful place on her clit. Spencer didn't hesitate when he started rubbing at her nub, smooth and deliberate, it made her toes curl and her body jumped in a moment of surprised bliss.

Her sound of pleasure was music to his ears, urging him to satisfy her even more. He was quick when those same fingers dipped inside her core, her inner walls tensing at the sudden yet pleasurable stretch. There was a distinct sound along her needy whines, wet and slapping as his palm makes contact with her clit every time he was knuckle-deep inside her. Her head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed—a sight Spencer secretly wanted to commit into his memory.

Without even noticing it, her hips started grinding to chase his fingers, desperate to reach that familiar pleasure twisting in her core. Her movement didn't go unnoticed by him, an amused, deep chuckle reverberating from his chest while he pulled his fingers out of her, rubbing her clit aggressively, knowing it would make her reach her high faster.

"You're going to cum, aren't you? This quick?" She glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not giving him an answer. His smile widened at her resistance. "Do you think I should let you?"

Her heart quickened its pace, knowing well enough what he was about to do. He was going to tease her, or as she liked to think, he was going to torture her by not giving her what she wanted. Her theory was proved right when he leaned down, his face inches away from hers, a sly smile on his lips.

"Beg me."

She quickly shook her head. A hand snaked up her back until it found the base of her skull. His fingers brushed through her strands before gripping hard, sending a jolt of pain down her spine as he yanked her head back.

"Beg me."

"Fuck you—ah!" A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through her, pushing a moan from her that filled the room like a ringing bell—a bell that signaled the fact that despite how much she knew she shouldn't, she was already surrendering to his touch.

"No?" He taunted, his breath brushing against her ear. "Then I'm not letting you cum."

And just like that, the pleasure rippling through her body was ripped away.

He swiftly pulled his hand from under her pants with a smirk she wanted to wipe off before turning his back to her, leaving her all flustered. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing to grasp the situation. She loathed him. She really did. She despised the way he was so full of himself.

With a determined exhale, she shook off the flustered feeling that lingered. He may have momentarily unsettled her, but she was not one to let her guard down easily. She was not going to let him get under her skin. If he could make her sexually frustrated, then so could she.

If he was going to play dirty, she was going to get filthy.

Her shirt was the first thing that came off. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down over her legs. Dear god, she was going to regret this, wasn't she? But she couldn't stop. Not when the rustle of her clothes echoed in the quiet space and Spencer turned around, jaw slacked, a startled expression crossed his face as he watched her.

"W-What are you doing?"

There. That was what she wanted. That priceless, wide-eyed, disbelief face. She had to keep going.

"Taking matters into my own hands."

Her hand reached around to unclasp her bra before she intentionally took her time sliding the straps down her arms, enjoying the way his jaw clenched as you did. Eyes still focused on him, she tossed it to the side. Her hands lowered afterward, and an audible gasp escaped his lips as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down her legs.

"You're always so smug," she murmured, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Thinking you have control of me."

Right hand reaching up, her fingertips just lightly swept the length of his stubbled chin, just below his lips. The corner of his mouth only drew up further at her touch. She smiled at his reaction, and her fingers dropped down to grip his chin firmly.

"But I can satisfy myself just fine."

And then she pulled away, the smirk now missing from his lips as she backed out of his reach. She then settled on the bed, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spread her legs wide open. She watched as a breathless sigh escaped his lips and smiled triumphantly, especially when the bulge growing in his dark pants was impossible to ignore.

With her gaze lingering on his steadily growing erection, she trailed her hand down her stomach, the tips of her fingers paused just over her clit. "What's wrong, Reid?" She hummed out, watching his chest heave. "You seem to be speechless."

Because he was, how could he not be when the pad of her middle finger slowly started to lightly circle over her clit. He watched as she teased herself, fingers gliding between her folds, gathering her arousal before slipping a finger inside. She gasped, the wet sound was audible even to her own ears as she gradually pumped her finger in and out.

He took a step closer, and her fingers moved faster as his eyes raked over her body—her luscious breasts fully exposed, legs spread apart, fingers between her thighs. A faint moan fell out of her, her eyes partially closing all the while her fingers never ceased their movement, vigorously thrusting into her cunt.

She then proceeded to put on a show for him, throwing her head back and rolling her hips. He was standing close to her now, eyes focused on her body, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. Her cunt immediately clenched at the sight of him, a bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. The sight sent a surge of warmth through her body, spreading from between her thighs to her cheeks as her fingers quickened in pace and her legs spread farther for him to see.

He was trying to hold himself, it was obvious in the way he held his composure. But then she watched with satisfaction as he stalked towards her, and just because she wanted to fluster him, she couldn't help herself from letting out a needy whine as she slipped her fingers out before rubbing her clit desperately, her eyes boring into his.

"Spencer," she moaned.

That was precisely when he lost it. He didn't even hesitate. He marched straight to her, and her finger stopped in its movement as she watched him settle between her legs, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and roughly yanked her over the edge of the mattress, and she fell on her back with a squeal.

"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" He sneered, his warm breath brushing over her heat. "Fine, I'll let you win this time."

A gasp escaped her lips when he wasted no time leaning in, burying his head between her thighs. He wasted no time as she grabbed onto the sheets, feeling his tongue draw circles around her clit before flicking up and down at a rapid pace. Her thighs tighten around his head. and her whole body trembled beneath him, encouraging him to move his tongue faster.

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding them apart as he took his time. Ever so slowly he licked up her slit, gathering her juices on his tongue until he reached her clit, groaning every second of the way until she was shivering beneath his touch. She was breathless, mind buzzing and the room spinning as he thrust his tongue into her warmth, face becoming so deep between her thighs that heat rushed through her body.

When her thighs trembled and threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag deeper inside her. With a roll of his tongue, he was lapping at her walls, swallowing every drop until the second he heard her begin to whine.

It was embarrassing, letting him hear how worked up she was. But she couldn't help it, not when she was losing control of her mind and body. Her hips were starting to buck to meet his tongue. Her jaw slacked. Low moans spilled from her lips as he continued to ravish her, and her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her to hold onto her sanity as waves of pure overwhelming pleasure took hold of her.

"Oh my god," she whimpered, voice two octaves higher before growing silent. She was so, so close to the edge, his tongue relentlessly sucking her clit, licking, swirling over her entrance until her mind fell blank from the bliss. The heat began swelling from between her thighs, tension tightening and all she did was screw her eyes shut.

But seconds before the pleasure was nearly too much to bear, he suddenly pulled away.

"Reid!" She hissed, looking down between her legs. "You're fucking annoying."

He looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes, then his mouth parted a second before his tongue swiped over his lip to taste the remnants of her arousal. "What?"

Unbelievable. After pulling that stunt, he had the audacity to feign innocence. She huffed and opened her mouth to retort something but when he started to undress himself, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind was too busy taking in his slightly toned arms, his broad chest, his slim waist, and that patch of soft hair trailing down his stomach, disappearing underneath his pants.

And that was gone too, and now he was standing without any shred of clothing, and it then dawned on her that they were both very much naked. Their first time in that dusty storage room happened too fast that they didn't bother taking off their clothes, but now she had the time to sink in the way he looked wearing nothing but a smirk.

"I didn't bring a condom," he said as he climbed onto the bed. Like that was going to stop them, it didn't stop them before and it most definitely won't stop them now.

"It's fine," she mumbled just as he settled between her legs again, but when his eyes lit up at her words, she smacked his shoulder. "But you're still not finishing inside me."

He merely hummed a reply. Then seconds later he was lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance. His eyes meet hers as he teased her, and she noticed the smirk appear once again on his lips. She pushed her hips toward him, gripping his arm irritatedly, and released a breathy 'hurry up' before she could change her mind.

He wasted no more time pushing himself into her without warning, earning a gasp while he stretched her completely. He pressed his body into her, allowing her lips to collide with his and moan into the kiss when she felt him pull away just enough to slam back into her with one harsh thrust. His hands suddenly reached for her wrists, and he gripped them above her head, pushing them onto the mattress.

His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she quickly shut her own as he pumped himself into her cunt over and over again. His motions were aggressive, sloppy, and wild. The moment a particularly deep and brutal thrust hit her at the right spot was the moment she finally gave in to weakness as she let out a loud moan, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.

Then he pulled back again, and his thick cock slid out of her partway, glistening with her juices, splitting her pussy apart around it before snapping forward, his hips going at a brutal pace, making her whole body bounce from the contact.

"God, you feel incredible," he groaned out just as she gasped from the intense pressure of him inside her, head falling above her, jaw slacked, sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes fluttered open before exhaling a heavy breath, feeling him tightening his grip on her wrists. "We need to do this more often."

Though she didn't say it, she agreed with him. And it pained her to even consider making this a habit. But it was tempting. It was so tempting that the thought of having him inside her anytime and anywhere had her clenching around his cock, earning a low grunt deep within his chest.

Then something snapped inside her. She had started off holding back, keeping herself in check against the rising wave of sensations. But then, in a moment that felt like a long-awaited release, she decided finally to let go when he continued to hit that perfect spot inside her, and she almost felt ashamed at the noises she was making. She wasn't as vocal when she was alone, nor with other men, yet the man she claimed to hate earned every whimper, every desperate moan.

Hearing her cries urged Spencer even more. He leaned over to her and pushed himself deeper, earning a gasp from her as her legs fell apart even further, letting him sink himself as deep as he could. He pushed her hands above her head and hovered above her, letting his temple fall against hers as his hips rutted violently.

The pressure rose and the tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Sweats beaded over her skin just the same as him, crying out for him, moans mixing with filthy noises of him thrusting into her wet cunt. His powerful thrusts then quickened, causing her to grow weak her body began to quiver in his grasp.

She cried out, wanting to warn him she was growing close to the edge, her mind growing numb, everything around her fading into black. But didn't give her the chance to speak before he pressed his mouth on hers in a heated kiss, all sloppy and wet and desperate, latching on her lips with so much fervor.

She felt him everywhere. On her lips, biting on her soft flesh. On her breasts, his chest rubbing against her hard nipples. And between her legs, his cock stretching her deliciously, a pleasant feeling that had her whining against his mouth.

But before she could whimper anything else, the pleasure erupted inside of her, red hot heat unraveling to every limb. Her release was a fiery blast—white-hot and overwhelming, turning her into the image of destruction. Her hair stuck to her skin, her back arching off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as his cock hit her deeper. She succumbed to the bliss, eyes shut tight, and her furrowed brow as she surrendered through her orgasm.

He held her tighter, pumping himself into her as she finally let go, calling out his name in a breathless whimper. She came so hard her legs were shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't stop. He pounded into her harder, reveling in the way she fell apart for him.

"I-I'm close," he grunted. "Where... where do you want me to—"

"Inside."

He looked down at her, trying to hold himself to not combust right there and then. "Are you—" he groaned when she clenched around him. "Are you sure?"

She was already too deep in her climax that any worries faded away. It was like time slowed down, and all that mattered was the intense sensations taking over her body. It was wrong, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to be full of him.

"Yes. Please, just—please," she whispered. "Cum inside me."

It was enough for him to let go, chasing his own pleasure inside of her, hitting deep within her walls as her own arousal dripped out around him. The slick and messy noises mixed with his groans filled the room, heat continuing to rush to her face as her entire body became overly sensitive.

With one final, sharp inhale, the bliss took hold of him. His hips slowed as he began to release inside of her, filling her up with a few huffs and grunts, creating a bigger mess between her thighs. He thrust one last time as the last few drops spilled from him, continuing to press his body against hers as closely as possible.

Then everything went silent except the sound of their ragged breathing. He pulled out of her with a heavy sigh, just as spent as her, breathless beyond belief. He collapsed on the bed, his chest rising up and down as he tried to gain some sense of control, his mind trying to grasp on the euphoria that happened moments ago.

"Well that was—"

She quickly nodded beside him. "Yeah."

Spencer turned his head towards her, and she could already feel him gloating that before he had the chance to say anything, she covered his mouth with her hand. "Do not say anything."

His reply was muffled underneath her palm, and she didn't understand what he was trying to say. She didn't even bother wanting to listen to him anymore. So she got off the bed, wincing when she felt the mess dripping down her thighs as she walked over to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking a shower," she called out. "I feel... sticky."

She then heard some rustling and she turned to see him hopping off the bed, following behind her. She narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I feel sticky too."

"Spencer."

His lips twitched into an amused smile. "You called me Spencer."

She groaned and turned around. "We're not showering together, Reid."

"Why not?" He pressed, following her behind. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

She looked at him, assessing the way he was practically begging with his eyes. She was pondering whether it was a good idea to spend more time with him in an enclosed space. Probably not, but considering all the filthy, nasty things they had done, sharing a shower seemed harmless.

"Alright, fine," she caved in, letting out a sigh. "Just keep your hands to yourself."

He nodded eagerly, but she should've thought better when the spray of water finally hit their bodies and he closed in around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her waist. Then he pressed her against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and it was safe to say that he could not, as a matter of fact, keep his hands to himself.

Not that she was complaining.

a/n: I know this was supposed to be enemies to fuckable enemies but they're really starting to grow on me, they kinda cute

Oneshot taglist: @simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @natarataca @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no @donttrustlove @tylevx @kailey-rae @sailorholly @ducksong @infinitegalaxiesworld @dreamsarebig @brilliantreid @boimlers-gonna-boim

PLEASE READ: The crossed-out ones are blogs I can’t tag. And if any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

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banqdanfnfic · 4 years

Text

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

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hamliet · 4 years

Text

Dabi’s Missing Heart

So I’ve been seeing two main responses to Dabi’s character as portrayed in BNHA 292, both of which I feel touch on a very surface understanding of his character and role in the story despite seeming like opposite takes.

Take #1:

Dabi is an unfeeling monster created to show the redeemability of Shigaraki and Enji in contrast with his true eeeevil villainy! He will never be redeemed!

Take #2:

Dabi is a sweet softy who did nothing wrong! He will never be redeemed because of this chapter which is so out-of-character!

Note how they both have the same endpoint. I’m not actually gonna address the redemption question much because I can’t fathom what this panel foreshadows if not Touya’s salvation (alive):

I’m not looking to debate this either; I’m just putting it here because I know it’ll come up if I don’t.

Instead, I wanna address Dabi’s character. He’s my favorite, and I’ve been asked a few different times whether I enjoy him as a villain or as an uwu poor baby, and my answer is always both.

Dabi is a villain. This chapter’s rampage is, in my opinion, not remotely out of character for him. But neither is it the summation of his character, and he surely is not meant to make Enji look good by comparison.

So, who is Dabi?

Dabi is kind of a flaming jerk, and that’s why I like him. He’s an abuse victim who gets to be angry and crass and sharp. He pushes people away because he doesn’t want to open up to them and get burned (heh). He’s just like Shouto in that, except with a dose of murder.

Believe it or not, this is a very realistic response to abuse, and very common too. It’s good to see that representation. If the writing was indeed just “he’s bad get rid of him,” well, that would of course be a terrible representation. But seeing a mean victim get redeemed? Now that’s some good sh*t I’m here for.

If you want a sweethearted, misunderstood soft victim, there is one in MHA, and that’s Shigaraki. Dabi is not these things, but that does not mean he’s not a victim or that he’s somehow an unfeeling monster.

You see, Shigaraki is a heart character. Dabi’s the mind. (Heart and mind characters are a literary pattern that is utilized in literature across the globe; it’s not an eastern/western cultural thing. It has its roots in alchemy.) The problem is that you can’t have a heart without a mind nor a mind without a heart. If you lack one, you’re missing half the picture, and you won’t accomplish anything.

We see this with Shigaraki in his quest to look for ideals, something to believe in, purpose to justify/enable acting on his feelings/emotions.

Dabi, in contrast, has conviction and ideals, but eschews any kind of personal connection and care.

So, both Shigaraki and Dabi struggle to unite heart and mind--but they need to do precisely this.

It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki expressly envisions both Dabi and Himiko when musing on what his purpose is.

Yet Shigaraki is able to unite more easily with Himiko as opposed to Dabi because Himiko is also a heart character. She claims to be motivated by extreme empathy that warps around to become a lack thereof (wanting to be who she loves).

Shigaraki’s motivations are basically revenge for hero society not saving him--which encompasses both a deep internal and external (societal) need for empathy and a need for better ideals. Shigaraki needs Himiko and Dabi. They’re a trio, and all of them need each other to grow. But Himiko, being similarly driven expressly by emotions, is easier for Shigaraki to understand and work with.

The irony is that Dabi is actually a very, very emotional character as well. But what he does (as is typical for a mind character) is repress them, compartmentalize, dissociate. He constantly pushes people away, yet admits privately, to himself, that he’s primarily (and paradoxically) motivated by family. This is emotional, yet Dabi claims he “overthought” and, according to other translations, “snapped” can be actually be read as “went crazy” as a result over overthinking (note: both are mind allusions).

Dabi repressing who he is--Todoroki Touya--is symbolic of him repressing his emotional side, because again, family and emotions are tied together for his character. Now his identity is acknowledged, and Dabi claims to be losing his mind (again), claims that he can’t feel, and yet is completely consumed by emotions. Like, does anyone think he’s being methodical and calculating this chapter?

It’s not just negative emotions (rage, hate) that drive Dabi in response to his family. His seeking belonging and emotional connection is present even in a chapter where he tries to murder two members of his family and laughs off the risk to the life of another.

See, Dabi first asked Shouto to validate his pain:

But like, given the circumstances, of course Shouto doesn’t really respond well. How Shouto responds is this:

Shouto’s words are triggering. And keep in mind I am not blaming Shouto: he’s in shock and he’s a kid. I’m merely trying to explain how it likely comes across to Dabi.

You’re crazy. Your feelings don’t matter. You don’t really care about Natsuo! You’re a villain and that’s ALL you are. Not a brother or abuse survivor. Just a villain.

So, uh, yeah, Dabi then retreats back to being unable to feel, dissociating as has always been his coping mechanism. But that’s not all: Dabi’s been repressing for so long that of course he’s gonna go a little insane in response to the dismissal of everything he’s trying to point out. Why wouldn’t he? His family dismissed his pain back then and now again, and so, without that heart, without those emotions, principle is all Dabi has. This has been present since long before Stain’s ideology came into his life:

Now, he answers this question of existence through Stain’s ideology. Purpose is all he has, and to him, Shouto and Best Jeanist are dismissing that too. Why are they dismissing it? Best Jeanist dismisses him for an ideal: the overall good of hero society. Shouto has a mixture of this ideal and also like, genuine shock and pain.

Back to Dabi. Dabi’s summation of himself and his purpose is incorrect and harmful to himself and others. I’m not excusing him or justifying, just explaining. It’s a tragic reflection of what Endeavor raised both Touya and Shouto to be (and thereby ironic that BJ uses an ideal to dismiss him):

Instead of being raised to be the symbol of hero society--as Endeavor intended--he exists to destroy it. The root is the same: Dabi assumes he exists for hero society, as a tool. He dehumanizes himself, hence why his quirk physically harms him (which also fits his almost religious zeal for Stain’s ideology). But it is not all Dabi is. He’s not a tool, he’s a person, but to acknowledge he’s a person involves acknowledging his heart/emotional desires, and that gets to my next point.

Dabi’s not a reliable narrator about himself. At all. I’ve written about Dabi and dissociation before. So let’s look at Dabi’s devotion to his ideals, the ideals he puts above people and claims he only cares about... because there are moments where Dabi goes against those ideals.

For one example, Dabi’s gone against those ideals when he’s allowed his personal need for revenge (an emotional/heart motivation) to overcome his longterm plan. Like, he was fully about to get himself killed here, even though that would likely mean no one would know the corruption of the Todoroki family and hero society, just for the chance to prove to his father that he hurt him.

In addition, I’ve talked before about how Dabi’s the only character in the entire damn manga to comment that maybe using child soldiers is not okay. While it’s not explicitly stated, it’s reasonable to conclude that Dabi considers the abuse of children in hero training a sin of hero society that ought to be purged (hence, part of his ideals).

That said, I have also pointed out that Dabi has gone after children in the past when it benefits his mission (Bakugou would like a word). So let’s look at four examples of Dabi and his principles concerning kids--since, after all, he claims to be motivated by heroes who hurt kids.

Firstly, Dabi’s “save the cat” when he spared Aoyama.

Why did he spare Aoyama? We can only speculate, but it seems quite likely there are two reasons: 1) hurting Aoyama would not add anything to his overall goal of downing hero society, and 2) a terrified, cowering kid might just have been a teeny bit familiar to Dabi. Here, his ideals--destroying hero society--either take a backseat to a reflection of his personal pain (and)/or his ideal of not abusing kids directly contradicted his ideal of bringing down hero society. But the important part is that in this instance, Dabi chose mercy and the goal of bringing down hero society was jeopardized as a result.

So then why did he attack Tokoyami, Nejire, and Shouto this arc? Well, Dabi does things he knows are wrong for the sake of accomplishing his overall purpose. He does things he knows hurt himself for this purpose. This isn’t new. If he can’t be acknowledged, can’t exist as a person with emotions, then he at least will ensure he still has a purpose.

In addition, let’s look at what sets Dabi off in all of these instances. (Again, this isn’t me saying “well actually Dabi’s justified.” He’s not. I’m just pointing to what’s in the text to explain the machinations beyond “bad guy do bad.”)

Dabi tries to reason with Tokoyami, pointing out that Twice was doing essentially what Tokoyami is doing: trying to save his friend(s), but Tokoyami doesn’t listen (also again: not me saying Tokoyami should have listened--realistically, in this situation, it makes sense Tokoyami trusted his mentor!)

Only after his reasoning was rejected did Dabi go to flames mode. He could have just let Tokoyami save Hawks, but instead he really wanted to kill Hawks and that overrode his other principles. Was this just because of his furthering his goal--killing the #2 hero would help destroy hero society--or because of a sense of personal revenge for Twice? That’s open for interpretation (in my opinion, it’s likely a mixture, because again, it tends to intertwine more than Dabi likes to think it does). His principles and/or emotions are brushed aside, and Dabi Does Not Like That.

Dabi does this again with Shouto this chapter, asking him where he stands on their family issues, and gets brushed aside, and then Shouto goes into his rage mode and Dabi responds. Again, not saying Shouto is rational here or that he should side with Dabi’s murderous plan, but like, his words really don’t come across well to Dabi.

Dabi going after Shouto after explaining things, asking Shouto for help, and then having his pain dismissed is pretty much a repeat of Tokoyami. When Dabi’s pain is dismissed, he says fine, let’s aim for the highest principle possible: making Stain’s will a reality, and damn any emotional ties.

Dabi’s obsession with ideals, you might say, is a smokescreen to cover his own pain. Far from feeling nothing, he feels very deeply. (I promise I’m getting to Nejire.)

So what does this indicate? Well, that Dabi does have a heart and a conscience. But when he lets his heart act, when his heart reaches out, he gets burned. His heart jeopardizes his overall purpose, so he most often dissociates himself from it. But by pretending he doesn’t have a heart, he dehumanizes himself, and he projects that dehumanization onto others (see: seeing Shouto as an extension of Endeavor, when that’s actually the precise image Shouto is trying to shed).

It’s not a coincidence that Shigaraki has been unconscious during the entire confrontation with Endeavor, nor is it a coincidence that Himiko has been MIA. But, Shigaraki wakes up a bit this chapter not only when hearing Dabi spout about how hero society needs to burn, an ideal/the thing Shigaraki lacks, and through a less important but still-ideal-driven character in Spinner asking him to accomplish his supposed ideal of destruction, but when Dabi saves Shigaraki and Spinner.

Dabi doesn’t burn Nejire for lols (not that this makes it better because it doesn’t) or even for ideals. He burns her to save Shigaraki and Spinner, because they are his links to full humanity right now.

(Again, this is also dissociation and projection: Endeavor did this! No, Dabi, you did. You’re perpetuating violence against kids rather than stopping it.)

But anyways, when Dabi calls upon heart, Shigaraki wakes. He lends Gigantomachia and thereby Dabi and the league power.

Dabi can only grow and actually accomplish anything related to his ideals (fixing hero society) through accepting a heart--even though that will likely mean some painful surgery to shift his ideals to accommodate said heart, because pure ideals don’t leave much room for humanity. He needs to feel to actually change anything, because right now he’s just making things worse (hence, the need for saving and redemption).

I know the League aren’t the protagonists of the serIes, but their complaints aren’t exactly incorrect either (if anything they’re almost a little too valid). But through growing together, Dabi, Shigaraki, and Himiko might actually be able to accomplish something, and get themselves in a place where they can be reached and saved by Shouto, Deku, and Ochaco. Because to be saved, the kids will have to acknowledge the villains’ pain and complaints, and do something about it.

#bnha 292 #bnha meta #mha 292 #mha meta #dabi #todoroki shouto #todoroki touya #todoroki enji #hado nejire #toga himiko #shigaraki tomura #shimura tenko #best jeanist #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha theory #mha theory #league of villains #spinner

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nevertheless-moving · 4 years

Text

Suicidal Misunderstanding IX

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - - - Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV - - - Part V - - - - - Part VI - - - - - Part VII - - - - - Part VIII

Content Warning: This chapter contains potentially triggering material, particularly aftermath of attempted suicide as well as discussions of bodily injury.

Cody woke up the morning after the...drunken keldabe still feeling uneasy. He spent half an hour attempting to read over reports in preparation for the Umbaran campaign before giving it up as a lost cause. He distracted himself for a little while by pouring over last night’s cantina surveillance, before giving up on that as well and sending a message to General Skywalker.

‘Any updates on General Kenobi’s status?’

He watched the comms as communications from everyone besides the General trickled in. He answered a few requests for requisitions, forwarded some medical reports, and ignored an irritating handful of overly-personal questions.

Agonizing over it the whole time, he opened a comm-text link to Obi-Wan. It took nearly an hour, but he managed to send two sentences. ‘Hope you’re recovering well. Look forward to upcoming mission discussion.’

He immediately wanted to retroactively delete the message, mortified by every word and deeply concerned at every second that passed without a reply.

He spent the next 30 minutes hunched over, quickly closing every incoming CT and CC communication, justifying the time to himself as ‘technically on leave.’

He lurched forward when he finally received a General’s comm code, but slumped in disappointment when it was Skywalker, not Kenobi.

‘Not as drunk but still seems a little high. He says he wasn’t drugged. He’s taking the rest of the day off. I’m monitoring.’

Taking the rest of the day off. Did that mean he wasn’t carrying around his comm? Kriff. Should he more or less concerned that the general was actually taking a day off?

He decided to be more concerned.

‘Thank you for the update. Respectfully request information on any changes.’

Hopefully that would encourage Skywalker to keep him informed even if he stopped freaking out over his vod’s behavior.

Stowing the remote comm, he stood up and exited the temporary planet-side office, throwing himself into cleaning up the mess that was nearly 20,000 clone troopers simultaneously attempting to get the most out of a very brief R&R.

Shortly before mid-day, he received another update from Skywalker.

‘Just managed to get him to medical. Healer cleared him of drug interactions but Obi-Wan’s still acting strange (not crying, but a lot of hugging).’

Cody stared at that for a long while.

‘Any other verbal indications of upcoming danger?’ he finally asked. Skywalker didn’t reply.

Shortly after nightfall, his incident reports were interrupted by a call from an unknown temple number. He quickly opened it, and a holo of an unfamiliar Mon Calamari female healer appeared in miniature on the desk.

“Commander Cody. Thank you for answering so quickly. Are you somewhere private?” she asked, voice deliberately neutral.

The Commander tensed up. “Yes, sir. I’m in CC office space, alone. The room and the channel are both secure. Is this regarding General Kenobi?”

“Yes.” She replied. “My name is Master Bant Eerin; I’m a temple healer as well as a personal friend of Obi-Wan’s. He’s...he’s in the healing halls right now. We’re still trying to understand exactly what happened- I’ll tell you what I can but first we need to rule out any possible drugs he may have contact with. I need you to describe in detail anything he may have been exposed to that could have possibly had mind-altering effects.”

The Commander was a professional. He swallowed back his fear, his questions, and his demands to know what was going on.

“Of course. Everything on the Negotiator was GAR Standard, and I was with him when we left the ship. We went directly to the lower levels. The first time he was exposed to anyone outside the 212th was when we left our transport on level 3915. I...actually have footage of him the whole time night after that point. I’m sending it over right now, sir.”

“That would be extremely helpful, thank you.” He watched as she pulled it up on a second comm, sound barely audible.

He continued with his report: “One of the boys took it without permission. He didn’t mean anything by it, he’s just an idiot; I’ve already issued a severe reprimand. In any case, he brought it to me after I issued surveillance on the cantina, it tracks everything the General did- as far as I can tell, he had a glass of house grub wine, two shots of rancor blood, and an unnamed mixed cocktail ‘on the house.’ You can see everything the bartender added- as far as I can tell nothing was slipped in. He just... blacked out suddenly after the fourth drink, and quickly startled awake, confused by his surroundings.”

“I see.” Her tone was still carefully neutral and Cody didn’t know how to read her expression. He waited, wishing he was wearing his bucket so he didn’t have to keep schooling his face into professional patience.

“You brought him back to the temple...correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

She let out a deep breath, gills fluttering slightly. “We’ll probably have more questions later, but please understand our inquires are entirely based around determining how we can best help Obi-Wan. This call and any future ones are not intended, and should absolutely not be interpreted, as indications of blame. He’s actually spoken to me about you before, I know he has the deepest respect for you, personally and professionally. Someone will likely be assigned to talk to everyone whose spent time with him recently, including myself.”

The sick feeling in his gut from last night returned full force. “I...believe I understand sir. His condition is serious, then?”

Her gills fluttered again.

“Even now, I think we can safely anticipate a full physical recovery. He...there’s no easy way to say this...it appears he attempted to end his own life. Knight Skywalker got to him just in time, and he received bacta within minutes of the initial burn. I...like I said...we’ll began work to figure out why-”

Her voice broke and she stared up, large tears pooling in the corners of her eyes. She hastily wiped them away.

“Rest assured commander, he’s getting the best treatment possible. Thank you for your assistance. I’ll do my best to answer any questions you might have right now. This is my personal comm link- please feel free to reach out to me at any point for updates.”

“I-” Cody cleared his throat. “Can I come to the temple? To...” he trailed off, not sure how to finish.

“Not tonight, I’m sorry. The healers need to focus; he’s not allowed any visitors until he’s out of Bacta, I’m afraid.”

“Skywalker must be throwing a fit at that” Cody remarked numbly.

The healer winced. “Knight Skywalker is currently sedated. He was...injured in the struggle to keep Obi-Wan from further harm. Master Windu witnessed part of it, but we’ll have to wait until its safe to wake him to get the full story. I’ll be notifying Captain Rex of the situation after we finish speaking.”

“I’ll do it.” Cody offered immediately. “Tell me what happened.”

Eerin hesitated.

“Please, Sir. It will be better coming from me and...if he’s the only other trooper who’s being informed at the moment...”

“Of course,” she said quietly. “We don’t know the full circumstances, but at some point in performing emergency care for Master Kenobi, Knight Skywalker was stabbed in the lower abdomen with a vibroblade. It pierced his large intestine. The blade was pulled out shortly before healers arrived, causing some further damage and blood loss. He’s already finished surgery, and should only need a few hours of Bacta at most. Considering his extraordinary past recovery rates, he’ll likely be out of bed tomorrow and fully healed by the end of the week.”

“General Kenobi wouldn’t...” Cody trailed off again. He was having a hard time putting coherent sentences together.

Bant looked at the ceiling for a moment, seeming to collect her thoughts.

“Psychosis can have many manifestations. Even with- with conventional injuries, people can mistake help for harm. There’s just too much we don’t understand, and only so much we can learn before they wake up. Are you certain you wish to be the one to inform Captain Rex?”

“Yes.” That was about the only thing the Commander was certain of right now. “Is there anyone else in the GAR I should inform of...anything?”

“The military aspect of this isn’t my area of expertise. If there’s someone you trust who can be a support for you, I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to tell them in confidence. Some form of what happened is going to get out eventually.” she replied. “Please use your discretion, I suppose. It’s...not really my speciality but I imagine you’ll receive further orders on how much to release to the GAR once Obi-Wan’s stable.”

Right. Discretion. Because Obi-Wan wasn’t just Obi-Wan- he was a high general in charge of nearly 1/3 of the republic’s forces. If word of this got out to the wrong ears it would cause mass panic, maybe even an emboldened separatist advance. It was an insane amount of responsibility for one person, no wonder - he deliberately didn’t finish the thought.

“I’ll comm the Captain immediately. Thank you for the information, General.” he said out loud.

“Feel free to contact me for further updates, and tell Captain Rex he’s welcome to do the same. I’ll message you when its clear to visit the halls.”

“Yes, Sir.” Cody responded, saluting automatically.

“Take care of yourself, Commander Cody”

The hologram blinked out. Cody sat motionless for several long moment before sweeping his desk off, sending the assorted flimsies and redundant comm-units of various designations to the ground.

He stared at the empty desk, then tapped a button on his wrist comm, opening a private audio channel. “CT-7567, please come in” he said calmly.

“Cody?” came the alarmed reply. “I’m here, what’s going on?” Why did he sound so panicked? He had deliberately used his calmest voice. Oh well.

“Please report immediately to CC Office 12 in Guard Headquarters”

“I’ll be there in 10″

Cody hung up. He stared at the blank wall. He knew something was wrong with how the General said goodbye.

He opened the single desk drawer and dumped the odd wires and coins inside to the floor. Eerin had said burn. That could mean a lot of things, but lightsaber was the most likely.

Cody puked profusely into the empty drawer. He stared at the vomit for a moment before carefully closing the drawer. He still felt a little sick. He hadn’t even said anything back to the General, he just stood there, frozen.

He stared vaguely at the wall across, wondering if he was going to puke again.

Rex burst into the room. “Cody! What’s going on?! You- kark, what is that smell?”

“I puked in the desk drawer” Cody explained.

Rex shut the door behind him and slowly walked over. He knelt down next to the desk, gently taking Cody’s hands in this own. “Cody. Vod. Talk to to me.”

“Obi-Wan tried to kill himself.”

Rex’s hands tightened over Cody’s compulsively and Cody squeezed back harder. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Rex’s expression.

“Some of ghost company went out for drinks last night. Obi-Wan started acted oddly. We flew towards the temple. He started crying. We got to the temple. He Keldabe kissed me. He told me goodbye. I didn’t say anything back.”

“Oh, vod” Rex whispered. He gently pulled the slack Cody off the chair and onto his lap on the floor. Cody continued mechanically. “I did reports today. Skywalker said he was with him. I left Obi-Wan a message. I don’t think he saw it. He tried to kill himself. Skywalker must have left him alone. He saved him. Obi-Wan stabbed Skywalker.”

Rex froze, still holding on to Cody.

“The healer called. Asked about drugs. They don’t think its drugs but they had to ask. She said they’re both going to heal completely fine. I have a link if you want to call the healer directly. That’s...it. I have reports to do now.”

Rex held Cody tighter. “Not right now”

“It’s war. People get hurt. People die. I have work to do”

“Not right now,” Rex repeated. “You have the right to be upset. You have the right to grieve. You’re a person, of course you have feelings.”

“Obi-Wan said that.” Cody whispered. Then he started crying. He continued to quietly sob for some time, hurt and bewildered and scared. They sat on the floor together; Rex barely moved, simply held on to his older brother as he fell apart.

Inevitably, Cody’s tears dried up and he pulled away.

“I don’t know how to clean this,” he said gesturing at that closed drawer.

“I’ll take care of it. Let’s just get you to bed. There’s CC bunks here, right?

“Yes but...”

Cody didn’t really like sleeping so isolated, but he also couldn’t imagine facing the 212th right now.

“I’ll stay here with you. We’ll go to the temple together in the morning.”

Rex shepherded Cody to the fresher. He stared at the mirror with a vague sense of recognition before automatically moving through a standard sanitation routine. By the time he finished, Rex had joined him in his room.

“What did you do with the vomit?” Cody asked, suddenly exhausted. They slipped into bed together.

“Swapped the whole desk with Pond’s. That bastard knows what he did.”

Cody let out a snort. Then, much to his surprise, he sank heavily into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Part X

#star wars #my au #suicidal misunderstanding au #star wars au no 27 #potentially triggering #attempted suicide #injury #all off screen this chapter #character is not actually suicidal but is severely divorced from reality due to space wizard plot device #starwars #codywan #angst #fanfic

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candyopala · 3 years

Text

Stuck in his ways, Chapter 5

Chapter Summary: Y/N’s training begins, but not before she discovers one of Obito’s secrets.

Words: 1.7k

AO3

Please reblog or like if you enjoy, comments are always welcome <3

5:30 in the morning. It is the sixth time Y/N has woken up. This whole concussion thing has messed up her whole sleeping schedule, she tried her best to get some rest, but to no avail. She ended up sleeping for about fourteen or fifteen hours between small intervals, but she feels worse than before.

Y/N drags herself out of bed, makes some coffee, and brushes her teeth, the whole deal. Having a constant roof above her head is nice, she has to admit that. Not having to worry about wild animals and the climate is cool, but the warmth of a bed is the best part of it. Tying her brand new bandana on her forehead, she leaves the small apartment and heads to the training grounds on the outskirts of the village.

She makes her way through the village’s main market, trying to avoid stumbling onto the hundreds of busy people bustling around her. Watching people attend to their duties and following their routines has always been a hobby of hers, she always found interest in seeing people who can afford to do the same thing every day, have some sort of routine. Can she consider herself one of them now? No, maybe not. Ninjas are always doing different missions and whatnot; their routines are as fucked up as a merc’s. Maybe she can become a baker in another life, who knows?

Around the corner, a hand blocking her way surprises her. At the end of it is a medium height man with his hair tucked into some sort of fabric, with bits of brown hair coming out of the sides. The man holds a toothpick between his lips, accompanied by a smug smile and an attitude that instantly annoys Y/N.

“’Sup babygirl, how come I’ve never seen you around?”

“I’ve been busy for the last 26 years”

“Busy living in my dreams, I bet”

“Busy fucking you mom, actually”

The sleazy type is the worst in Y/N’s opinion. Nothing disgusts her more than someone who thinks they’re hot shit just because they’re attractive. She pushes him away and keeps on walking.

“Ouch! Feisty, I like that. I’ll remember ya!” he states as he leaves the scene with a wink and a flick of his toothpick.

This has to be a joke, what a douchebag.

Going back on her way and observing the people, she closes into a mass of messy short black hair. The man has his back turned to her, but by the jonin vest and height, she assumes it could be… no, wait… it could not be! This man is helping an old lady carry a shitload of groceries, he would never be nice enough to do that.

Could it be him!?

From afar, she changes angle to try and catch a glimpse of his face. After much difficulty dodging busy locals, she is able to see clearly and… it’s Obito! Obito Uchiha helping a poor old lady carry her stuff, I wish I had a camera on me. She thinks of approaching him, but she decides against it in favor of watching from a distance to see where this goes.

Turns out the frail woman lives on the other side of town. Obito sure enough has carried all that stuff through the worst climbs Y/N has ever seen on a city. But that was not all: he was being extra nice. He laughed at all her jokes and even smiled back at her. This is grade A entertainment.

When they finally reach her destination, the old lady pulls out a lollypop and gives it to him. Y/N immediately loses her shit, almost falling from the ceiling she is in because of her fit of laughter. Before she can compose herself, she notices a presence behind her. She was discovered, but who cares? She has seen enough. Obito towers above her, trying to look intimidating, but failing to do so since he has a lollipop on his mouth.

“First you invade my house, now you’re following me. Are you sure I’m the one who should be called a creep?”

“Well, you’re right. Maybe I’ll start calling you… Granny Simp Uchiha©, how about that?”

“I hate you”

“Ow, I’m so hurt, oh my god, how could you? But seriously, I didn’t mean to intrude, but when I saw that… I needed to see more to believe it” She states as she breaks into another fit of laughter

“Let’s go, we’re late for training”

“Have you ever been on time a day of your life, though?”

“Never, I’ll probably be late for my own funeral”

“Fair enough. Wait, did you just make a joke that’s not on my expense?”

“Oh no, your dumbassery is influencing me!” He raises his gloved hands ironically

“Shut up”

~”~

They both reach the training grounds at around 7:30, late but not a whole lot, thanks to Obito’s kamui. Obito will have to make some slight modifications on the mission report to avoid Minato’s wrath. After a quick warmup, Obito goes straight to the point:

“How much do you even know about jutsu?”

“Well… I can do that chakra punch, maybe walk on water and trees or release genjutsu, but that’s all.”

“Not even a clone or some substitution jutsu?”

“Nope”

“So you’re basically an academy student with enough brute force to take down S rank criminals… That’s… odd”

Y/N scratches the back of her head, clearly embarrassed by her lack of training. Obito did not expect to have to teach such basic things. I mean, if he wanted to teach people stuff he would have signed up for a job at the academy. He still cannot believe Minato sensei is putting him up to this babysitting job.

He needs to do well on this mission if he wants to get back onto the Hokage’s good side and guarantee his position as the next one. This is his second day with Y/N and things have been insane and… fun? No, he should not be thinking like that. Perhaps he should also go talk with Kushina and ask her to convince sensei to let him go from this one; he was always her favorite after all.

“Granny simp? You ok? Did I disappoint you that much?”

Obito fixes his bandana’s position over his left eye, trying to get himself out of his head. He is here now, so he had better get to work. If he can control himself enough not to put her under a nasty genjutsu for calling him that again, that is.

“Call me that again and I’ll tell everyone that you saw me naked”

“You were not naked, dickhead. And what’s wrong with that?”

“Uhm…?”

“…?”

“Anyway… we’ll start with some cloning jutsu. Have you ever done any seals?”

“Only one or two”

“Try to copy what I’m doing”

“Hey! Stop doing it so fast!”

She honestly seems to be giving her best, but her hand signs are not quite right and the chakra distribution on her network must be all wrong, judging by her failure in producing something that seems to be remotely human. This takes Obito’s memory back to his old academy days, back when he could not do a single clone properly. He would spend whole nights awake training to achieve something passable. Rin helped him a lot back then. The only thing he has ever taught someone was that sexy jutsu to Naruto. To say Kushina was mad was an understatement.

“Concentrate your chakra all along your body, not only on your hands”

“Hum… right, can I get a lollipop after this?”

Four hours later and Y/N has finally mastered two basic jutsu: substitution and cloning. She almost passed out several times due to exhaustion, but thanks to some food pills, she is enduring todays training much better.

Obito has been analyzing her every movement with his sharingan. Looking closely her techniques lack grace, truly a sign of someone who learned everything they know by experience. He needs to fix that too.

Her endurance is also remarkably low. If she were to fight right now, she could do maybe two or three jutsu before passing out, making her rely solely onto her speed and blade habilities. The girl is more of a samurai than a ninja at this point. Examining her file earlier, he noticed that her chakra reserves are not that low as she has stated before, according to the medical department she has an average quantity of it. She just lacks the ability to use it properly.

Some very hard work is in order; it could take some months to get her into decent shape. That would be too much time and effort for Obito, there has to be another way of dealing with this mission quicker.

He did not want to do this, but he will have to talk to Kakashi for some teaching tips. Hell, if he was able to teach anything useful to Naruto he will be able to come up with a routine to help Y/N’s training.

I just hope he doesn’t decide to bother me about this situation…

After dropping Y/N on her house, with much protest from her part, Obito heads to the village’s café to meet with Kakashi Hatake. He knows that the ninja likes to spend his late afternoons reading his porn books accompanied by some coffee, disgusting stuff if you ask Obito. The coffee, that is. He has no formed opinion on porn books.

Approaching the store, he spots his friend’s mass of upward pointing grey hair. Something is different about him, though. Kakashi is usually… a very apathetic person. The look he gave Obito had chills running the Uchiha’s spine, he looked, well, excited.

“Obito! I finally found you! Sit down”

Aliens killed him and this is a body double. Or this is one of Gai’s practical jokes. Obito is honestly stumped.

“Are you ok bakashi?”

“Great! So… who’s the girl?”

Great, just awesome.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Of course you know, everyone is talking about how you were seen walking up and down with some mysterious gal. I’m so happy for you! Finally you’re going to stop being a sad grumpy bachelor! I’ll call dibs on the position of best-man” and suddenly Kakashi jumps up from his seat, coming closer to Obito’s face “Have you guys done it yet? Did she run away from you and now you need my advice? You could use some techniques from Icha I-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you? Those books are rotting your brain, seriously what the hell?”

“So is it true?”

#Obito #Jonin Obito #obito x reader #obito x you #obito uchiha #uchiha obito #uchiha #naruto fanfiction

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frostsinth · 4 years

Photo

A yummy pinup of Yared, trying to snake his way out of trouble he probably got himself into, and part 1 of 2 is below for the very sweet @justasoftboi who requested a continuation of the story of these two. This was supposed to be flat colors, but those coils just needed a little something extra to show them off. I hope this is what you were looking for!

@justasoftboi was the first place winner of my Monster Match Raffle! If you are interested in commissioning me for your own monster piece, DM me for details. Check out my MasterList for more monster romances, and feel free to BuyMeACoffee while you are there!

All the best!

: PART ONE :

I sighed, rubbing at the back of my neck. “I don’t know, Raz... “

She somehow managed to make her eyes even bigger, and clasped her hands before her. Shaking them slightly for emphasis. “Come on, please? I know it sounds a little crazy-”

“It sounds insane.” I admonished her.

“You know how parents are!” She continued, “And mine are the worst! It’s just one night, and then they’ll be gone. Please?”

I groaned, feeling my resolve weakening. “Why me?” I asked, shifting my satchel on my shoulder. “Why not Hassan or Ondre? You know half the guys in this village would jump at the chance to be your boyfriend.”

She threw up her hands. “That’s exactly why I can’t ask any of them,” she replied, letting her hands settle on her hips from their descent, “I don’t want to send any mixed messages. You’re the only one that I know won’t do anything crazy.”

My lips twitched, and I almost laughed at that. “Well, you make a good point there.”

“Please?” She begged again, “I-I’ll take your shifts for a week! I’ll cover for you whenever you ask! I’m desperate, Kyros. I’m literally offering you my soul.”

I sighed again, shifting and considering her. “...Ugh, fine, fine.”

“YES!” She leapt into the air, punching it triumphantly.

“One night!” I told her firmly. “One night. One dinner. That’s it. And you’ll not only cover my shifts, you’ll bake me three dozen of your famous lemon squares.” I could think of one particular person who would particularly love that part of the deal. I almost smiled at the thought of his delight once he got a taste of them.

“Done and done!” She squealed, then lunged at me, standing on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around my neck and hug me tightly. “Kyros, you’re a life saver! I could kiss you!”

I untangled her, laughing lightly. “Let’s not and say we didn’t.” I returned quietly, shaking my head and wondering just what the hell I had gotten myself into.

She echoed my laugh, squeezing my hands in hers. “I’ll pick you up after sundown. Wear something clean, yeah?”

“I know how to meet my partner’s parents,” I scolded her, giving her an overly exaggerated frown which was quickly replaced by a smirk, “Don’t worry, I’ll kill it. You’ll regret having asked me later, because they won’t stop pestering you about what a great guy I am.”

Her grin was infectious and she patted my cheek fondly. “You’re the best boyfriend ever. I am very lucky.”

“Yeah yeah.” I said, taking her hand away and giving it a gentle squeeze. “See you in a while, Raz.”

“It’s a date!”

I waved her back off across the clearing, waiting until she was nearly out of sight to turn and duck between the trunks and vegetation at the jungle’s edge. My pulse was already thrumming as I made my way deeper into the thick throng of massive trees, my feet following a well worn and familiar path. I knew it would be hard, only having a few hours with Yared before I had to go meet up with Raz. It was hard ever leaving his side, almost torturous to have to do so. I longed for a day that maybe I didn’t have to go back to the tiny village on the riverside. It had only been a few months, yet I already couldn’t stand to be away from the snake longer than I had to be. What had he called himself? A Zmia? I smiled at the memory of late nights exchanging cultural bits and pieces. Those few months prior, the reptilian people of the jungle beyond my village were a silent menace; a distant warning against wandering alone. Though to me they had been more like a legend. Had I gone back in time and told myself I would be falling head over heels for a half man, half snake, I would have laughed myself to death and back. Now though, I couldn’t see him enough. Couldn’t keep my hands off him. Couldn’t imagine my life without him.

And even when I was forced away from his company, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. More than once I had zoned out at work, nearly losing a hand in the process. I was already in hot water with my boss, having skirted so many jobs just to spend more time with him. I almost winced at the memory of his ire.

I remembered my first job at the river side logger, back when I had first moved here nearly a year ago. A new life. A fresh start. Far away from my own judgmental and bossy parents. I had scoffed at the warnings of the locals, and decided a stroll through the beautiful lush jungle was exactly what I needed to take my mind off of fresh calluses and sore muscles. How it quickly became my routine to take off into the deep vegetation whenever I got a moment to myself. Away from prying eyes and unspoken questions. After all, by most standards I was a handsome, hardworking, and available young man who, as of yet, had shown no interest in the local beauties. I meant to keep to myself, but the desire to just be alone made me an enigma to the locals. Many of whom had never left the riverside village. To them, I was the exotic. Even though the village itself was only a few generations old.

Raz had been my first friend, and so far remained my only. I suspected she had her own reasons, but she had never shown any remote interest in me. Had never done anything to make me feel uncomfortable, or put me on the spot regarding my preference in partners. And she had kept my secret faithfully when I had eventually opened up to her one drunken night. Not that it was outright forbidden or taboo; I just honestly didn’t feel like it was anyone’s business. Nor did I want to be some hot piece of gossip in a sparingly un-diverse town. So it was the least I could do to help her out of her own tricky situation. Though hopefully my situation would be only temporary.

When I had met Yared… life had become instantly better. He had slithered into my life so nonchalantly, and now I had everything I ever wanted. Well, almost everything. It would be nice not to have to leave him every few hours to maintain my presence in the town. The villagers were still deeply suspicious of their reptilian neighbors, and both parties preferred to keep to themselves. Which left little more than whispers of rumored sightings between the two. I grinned, thinking that maybe Yared and I might pave a whole new path for our two worlds. It was weird to think we might be setting a standard for future relations between our people. Assuming I could get through tonight, that was. I didn’t imagine the Zmia would be too pleased that I wouldn’t be able to spend that long with him. Especially after his promises from the morning. He could be a little selfish at times, though I wondered how much of that was a product of his culture. His people didn’t tend to live in villages or communities, so a life of solitude might certainly warrant a sense of one’s own self interests being the most important. I wondered if that was also a reflection of why he treated me how he did. I found I loved how clingy he was, how much he relished my time and company. How he lived for my attention and praise. I almost chuckled. No, he certainly wouldn’t be content with such a short visit.

But it would be worth it, I reasoned. Because with Raz covering my shifts for the next week or two, maybe I could spend the night with him. Or maybe a few nights… My stomach skittered with excitement at the thought, and I felt a flush at my collar.

I heard his coils moving along the forest floor before I saw him, and a grin was already lighting my face as I turned to greet him. Briefly I wondered what he was doing so far from his cave, but was just so happy to be able to see him again, I hardly cared.

His long black tail was woven amid the tree he had just slithered out of, and again I marveled at him. Rose grey skin, raven black hair, scarlet red eyes. I loved the way his cream scales crept up his stomach from his serpent lower half, reaching all the way to the underside of his chin. He lowered himself to my level as I stepped over, and I trailed my fingers fondly over that soft underbelly of his. The scales were cool to the touch, as was his skin as I traced my hand over his abdomen along his ribs to rest my palm at his waist.

Slowly he slithered in a circle around me, and I pivoted in place as his long tail writhed, curling about us. I smiled again, feeling my skin zip with electricity. But when I looked up to meet his gaze, there was a slight frown on his thin lips. Not overly surprising in and of itself; Yared had a demeanor as cold as his temperature sometimes. Yet this time, I didn’t like the way those lips pinched together slightly at the center.

“You ok?” I asked, my voice laced with concern.

He titled his head to the side, distractedly tracing his fingertips lightly down my arm. Usually he would have completely enveloped me in his embrace by now, eager to steal my warmth. I found a frown forming on my own lips.

“...What is a ‘boyfriend’?” He asked, his voice a little tight.

I was surprised at the question and felt my heart skip a few beats. “Ah… that’s..” A flush rose to my cheeks, and I rubbed at the back of my neck. “When you’re courting someone, they are your boyfriend… or girlfriend, if they are a girl.” I considered him from the corner of my eye. “Where did you-”

“And a ‘date’?”

A tickle of realization hit me, spreading across my face. “Were you watching me?”

His frown deepened into a scowl. “What is a ‘date’?” He pressed.

“It’s… like… the time spent with the person you're courting. Like, if you go out to eat, or do some sort of activity together.” I struggled to find the right words, hoping my explanation would make sense.

“Why?”

“What?”

He scowled more, and I felt his tail curling tighter around us. “Why have these things?”

I sighed, a little confused and exasperated. Though not overly put off by his blunt manners as they were rather commonplace. “Well, to get to know each other. To see if the two of you could be life time partners.”

“To see if you would be compatible as mates.” He offered coldly.

“Exactly!” I smiled up at him, reaching out with my free hand to run it over his tail. It was more like a dark chocolate brown, I decided, not black. I could see the color more vividly here in the sunlight that broke through the canopy of emerald leaves overhead.

“Do humans have multiple mates?”

I looked up at him, surprised. His scaly brow was knotted over his long slender nose, and his fangs flashed as his tongue darted out into the afternoon air.

“I suppose some do-”

“Zmia do not.” He hissed.

I realized then he was angry, his sharp pupils thin, his posture tense. His tongue flicked back out, and he bared his fangs at me again.

“Yared-”

“Perhaps I should have mentioned before.” He cut me off before I could say more. “But I didn’t think I needed to.” His eyes narrowed. “I do not want to share you with anyone else. If you already have partners, I don’t think we should continue.”

A deadened feeling wrapped around my core, leaving me with a sinking feeling and a cold spot at the base of my neck. My mouth dropped open, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. He scowled back at me, seemingly unperturbed by my shock. My hand dropped away from him.

“You… I-I mean…” I shook my head, swallowing the painful lump that strangled my throat. “... If that’s what you want… did-” I caught myself, biting my tongue. But I decided I had to know. “Did I do something wrong?”

His ears twitched, and I saw the tip of his tail flick. “Perhaps not by human standards. It was unfair of me to assume you wished to be exclusive as my mate-” He seemed to choke on the word, stopping sharply. I saw him adjust his jaw before continuing. “If you already have that female-”

“What female?” I cut him off sharply, suddenly remembering what he had said early. “Wait, Yared, are you talking about Raz? Were you watching us earlier? Is that what this is about?”

He crossed his muscular arms over his chest. “She seems fond of you.” He replied bitterly.

I shook my head incredulously. “Raz is just a friend!” I tried to tell him. “We’re not-”

“She called you her ‘boyfriend’.” He shot back. “You are having this ‘date’ you explained. Why else if not testing her as a potential mate?”

I threw up my hands, shaking my head again. “That’s not- She’s just asking me to do her a favor!” I reached up, trying to touch his face. He jerked away, and I felt a stabbing pain in my gut at the rejection. “We’re just pretending, because she told her parents she was seeing someone.”

“You are helping her deceive her parents?” His thunderstruck brow deepened, “That seems unreasonable. Why perpetrate this lie? Why must she have a mate?”

“I don’t know! I guess her parents have been pressuring her, so she just told them that to get them to leave her alone.” I resisted the urge to reach out to him again, taking a step back instead.

“She said she would kiss you.” He hissed, and his red eyes narrowed. “She squeezed you with her body. She must like you.”

I felt my own anger beginning to bubble in my stomach, a stinging wave of backlash from the anguish he had caused. I scowled right back at him, crossing my arms over my own chest.

“She’s just happy she doesn’t have to fess up to her parents. Raz is just a friend, Yared. Nothing more!”

He bared his fangs at me, and his whole long body inflated slightly with his hiss. “She didn’t look like that.”

“Even if she was interested in me - Which she’s not, by the way! - I’m not interested in her. Not even remotely,” I snapped, “And you should trust me enough to believe me when I say that.” I threw up my hands again. “And you should trust me enough to ask me before you start throwing around accusations-”

“Hardly an accusation if I saw it with my own eyes-”

“You saw me agree to do a friend a favor,” I snarled, “You assumed it was something worse. You didn’t even ASK me! Just jumped to conclusions!”

That seemed to silence him, if momentarily, and he stared at me with his scarlet red eyes. I shook my head a final time, spinning and clambering angrily over his long tail. As my feet found solid purchase again, free from his coils, I pulled my satchel around and started digging through it.

“...You are not interested in being her mate?” He asked, his voice still icy but softer.

“No!” I practically yelled, spinning to face him again. “There’s only one person I’m interested in being my “mate”, and he’s being an absolute ass right now.” I yanked the bakery parchment from my sack, tossing it at him. “HERE! Take your damn treats, you big, dumb snake!” Now I was shouting, and he barely caught the parcel I hurled at his chest with surprising force. “I hope you like them. Sorry for thinking of you every minute of every day. Sorry for just trying to buy a way to spend more time with you.” I clenched my jaw, swallowing back tears. “I hope you enjoy yourself as much as you look like you do, because you’ll have none of me!”

With that, I spun on my heel and stomped out of the woods. I didn’t look back. Couldn’t bear to. The sting of his words and mine still ringing in my ears. My hopes dashed on the jungle carpet... But I still had a date to prepare for.

...

UPDATE: Final part HERE

#naga #naga boyfriend #naga lover #mlm #monster romance #monster lover #monster boyfriend #monster x human #terato #exophilia #monster match #monster doodles #lovers quarrel #angst #citrus

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4dtk · 4 years

Text

stuck with you

pairing: enemy!journalist!haechan x journalist!reader

genre: angst, fluff, humour, enemies to lovers (hope i did the trope justice tbh TT)

warnings: cursing, f words lmao, i mention stranger things a lot in this??? mainly bc i just finished watching it w a friend. i also only use ‘haechan’ when narrating the story so i don’t get confused! the timeline for this is Very Weird as well bc like i didn’t consider how long a pandemic would last…… so Uhm. pls just excuse the weird ass time sequence. also referenced yangyang’s bastard child behaviour from dream plan where he packs his things messily and kun had to mf intervene and yangyang had the audacity to go like “see, this is how u get ppl to pack for you, now i don’t have to do anything” 💀

word count: 8k (a headache to proofread...)

A/N: first time trying an e2l trope and im not sure if it was done ok??? i didn't want it to feel too rushed so i tried to spread out the days as much as i could!! i also included small snippets of their life w the other so it won’t seem like the fic is just focusing on the e2l concept! was inspired tons by the lyrics of stuck with u by ariana grande and jb, so that song is definitely something you can listen to if you read this! hope you enjoy ^^

[day 1]

"you're insufferable," you groan, reluctantly handing over the remote control for the hotel's television after some unsuccessful scrolling.

hotels never exactly had much range anyway.

you were very much already dreading the time ahead with the male, sadly having been stuck in quarantine not even half a day with haechan.

offering to go to a neighbouring country to report on the rising covid-19 situation, you didn't expect your rival to tag along, no doubt seeking to craft up a better story than you would.

and so, you were now nudging the remote control into his waiting palm with a roll of your eyes. you hoped it emphasised your annoyance with him even a little, standing up to prepare a cup of tea before bed.

"are you going to keep watching television while i sleep?" you ask a genuine question, peeking at him through the mirror of the vanity that sat outside the bathroom.

he just shrugs with a tired sigh, turning his attention back to the cartoon playing in front of him.

"okay, well, keep to your side of the bed and i'll stay in mine. we need to be social distancing, anyway."

there's a hint of "okay, loser" mumbled under his breath, but you pay it no thought as you finish your tea and brush your teeth before you skillfully set up a fortress made out of pillows.

"ow! what the hell?"

"your leg was in the way, jeez! move it, and i'll stop annoying you," you said, putting up the last of your requested pillows beside where haechan currently sat.

taking one last glance at haechan, you wondered when the lockdown in your country would last before they start letting people fly in. for now, you were trapped with the nightmare himself in a sad hotel room, with only a bed to share.

"goodnight," he tells you, but the sardonic way he says it irks you to the point where you settle for silence instead. the only thing that drones on are the voices of the cartoon, soon fading as you feel into a dreamless sleep.

[day 4]

"this virus thing is probably driving me insane by day, and you, lee haechan, are adding on to it!"

"no headlines, no idea what style to write in, minimal pictures-" the doorbell to the hotel room interrupts your current rant, prompting you to storm off to answer the call with an annoyed look.

"what now?" taken aback by your quick response, the housekeeping girl retracts with downturned eyebrows and a voice hesitant to speak. your roommate comes to the rescue almost immediately when he's heard the commotion.

you watch as he sends her a smile and a wink, deflating when he's let her in to clean up the room. you're not sure why you can't keep your eyes off the both of them as they converse, blaming it mostly on your hatred for the male.

with the last of her duties fulfilled, you offer to help her with the cleaning supplies as an apology, but she cuts you off almost immediately. there's a linger in her step, however, as she walks the short hallway to the door, evident in wanting haechan to send her off as he received her.

turning back to call him, he holds up a hand as he types down his opening lines to an article, prompting you to shoot the housekeeper girl another apologetic look.

"sorry again," you mumble, letting out a sigh at how this was all playing out. day four and you were already making enemies with the hotel crew.

"maybe day forty-one is where i fall in love with lee haechan," you scoffed, perhaps listing down all the unfortunate things that could happen while you were in quarantine.

one of them was catching feelings for your rival.

rolling your eyes, you settled on the bed to catch a few Zs as he continued to work on his article, though you weren't exactly sure about the weight your words held.

[day 9]

"haechan, what is this?" you ask with an eyebrow raised, his dirty boxers barely hanging off your finger.

haechan only groans at that, knowing you were relentless in the laundry. even in a pandemic, he was sure you'd prioritise your clothes first.

"jesus! don't go picking up my underwear just like that!" he snatches it from you, folding it neatly and placing it next to where his luggage sat. unfortunately, yours was right beside his.

"you think just because you're doing the laundry you're able to look through a man's prized possessions-!"

your jaw drops, "it was near the sink, haechan! i don't want to look at the checkered pattern on your boxers when i brush my teeth. i don't want it near my face either."

haechan groans yet again, running a hand through his hair in frustration before turning back to the computer, a blank document opened up in front of him.

despite gathering findings, interviewing healthcare workers and serving the public alongside frontline staff, he had deleted every attempt at writing.

there's a rumble from the bathroom, perhaps from your upset stomach or the choked pipe, but sometimes they sounded too similar he couldn't tell it apart. haechan stifles a laugh when there's a "fuck!" echoing behind the door, though unsure if he should help you or not.

when haechan hears another crash, he comes running without hesitation with a face morphed into furrowed eyebrows and a tilt of the head.

"don't just stand there, you moron!"

haechan snaps out of his daze to assist you off the floor, swiftly helping you even more off the floor as he carries you to the bed with a stiff one arm. you notice his other hand hanging awkwardly, probably not knowing what to do with it before you feel the soft sheets under your butt.

he gets to work within a minute, fishing for an ointment and some bandages his mother forced him to bring. he remembers it as he always has: a caring mother looking out for her son, maybe a little too much sometimes.

haechan is thankful for his mother, now, for the stray bandages laying around in his pouch.

you watch in silence as he cleans the cut with alcohol, wincing when his hand hadn't even touched your skin.

"my hand isn't even on your skin yet! jeez, calm down."

you shake your head, holding onto his bicep to halt his arm, "just use water, please."

exhaling in exasperation, you wonder if you've pissed him off tenfold when he leaves for the bathroom with a side-eyed glance, though not hostile.

"problematic," haechan whispers, dabbing a wet cloth over the wound carefully before applying the ointment and securing the bandages.

"your words contradict your actions so much, haechan. i never know what you're thinking." sighing, you pull your leg away from his hold after he's done with the bandages, making your way to the bathroom and leaving him in his thoughts.

"why do you want to know?"

haechan gets silence; the lock of the bathroom audibly turns to signal another wall put up between the two of you. with another frustrated groan, the boy plops down on the chair to work on his article with the right words forming in his mind.

even if he was the one who asked, he wasn't sure if he was ready to tell you.

[day 13]

"stranger things is freaking me the fuck out, man!" haechan whispered, ignoring your pleads and groans to continue writing.

"haechan! give me the damn laptop! i don't even know why you brought an HDMI cable when it doesn't work with the television system here!"

"well, we got one that matches it, didn't we?" he said, eyes peeled to the screen that showed the young boy, will, in the upside-down.

"you mean you did!" you shoved him, ready to disconnect the devices before haechan held you back, clearly entranced by the next sequence of eleven being able to see will in a pool of salt.

"ugh, god, i don't even know why people watch the show!" you spill with sourness, knowing the show was praised for its excellent acting and writing.

haechan raises an eyebrow, turning to you with a strangely slow speed.

"stranger things have received multiple awards, and you didn't give any other reason. are you scared?"

when you struggle to find words, haechan laughs at his revelation, hiding his pearly whites behind his hand as he continues to make fun of you.

"yeah yeah, i'm scared! so what?"

"'oh haechan! oh no~ i'm terrified, would you care to provide some comfort?' jeez, don't worry, man, i'll protect you." there's a cheeky glimmer in his eyes and a cocky smirk on his face which you very much want to wipe off with the disinfectant in the toilet.

"it's not all that bad, c'mon! give it a-" turning back to the tv, the sudden attack of the demogorgon lashing out at the camera has the male screaming, hiding behind your body in fear.

"you were saying, mr superman?" you deadpan, unlatching his arms around your waist as you sink deeper into the sheets with your phone in hand.

[day 17]

haechan thrashes in his sleep, almost knocking the wine glass you had in your hands when he crosses over the pillow barrier you made.

"what in the hell-" you winced, keeping an eye on the male should he have any more outbursts that would ruin both wine night and the stuff you were working on for the article.

with tipsy hands, your keyboard keys unconsciously write out a letter of disdain and confusion regarding haechan, the boy sleeping next to you with a cute drooling face and curly hair.

with beautiful tan skin like that, you wondered why he didn't model instead. with a voice as impressive as his, you wondered why he didn't sign a contract. with natural hosting capabilities, you wondered why didn't fucking get the place of a talk show host.

because man, he can get pretty bothersome sometimes.

[day 20]

the next few days pass by with a breeze.

despite not knowing how the current pandemic will turn out, you find haechan more bearable, his habits being dumped in the past with a wave of a hand.

petty arguments occur, of course, until one of you brushes off the matter like nothing.

today was one of the days you won't back down.

there's worry evident on your face, eyes scanning through every last document on the stupid laptop. fingers travel fast over the keyboard as the realisation slowly dawns on you.

with slumped shoulders, you take a deep breath before turning to the male.

"what do you mean you accidentally deleted my article? i know we're sharing the damn laptop, but we established that you stay on your files and i stay on mine."

the other waved his hand, "i did not touch any of your files, (y/n), i'm not sure what happened."

"how could you not know? what the hell? i had good content on it, but now i have to spend more hours reorganising the news and interview answers and everything else in my notes. thanks, lee haechan."

"maybe if you weren't so caught up in me trying to sabotage your place in the publication team, then you would've believed me." he shrugged, taking a seat on the one bed like nothing.

you scoffed, arms crossing across your body. "funny how you mention sabotage because a villain never reveals their motive. that's why you came with me, didn't you?"

haechan stuck his tongue out to the side of his mouth, eyes blinking and rolling like an 8-ball that it sickened you to the core.

"villain? i'm the villain?"

"was i not clear?" you hiss, stepping closer to the male.

"no, make it more precise, please. i wanna hear it word for word. spit it out, coward."

with every word, you plunged your finger into his chest, looking deep into his eyes. "you're set out to take my place for department editor, where you know i'm best at."

"and that department would be...?" he crossed his arms, looking down at you with scorn you wished you could slap off his face.

"the..." you gulp with his face all up in yours, eyes boring as he awaits your answer, no doubt losing confidence at your realisation.

"the world depart...ment? you love to travel, right?" you trail off, biting your lip in anxiety when you remember how he was on the plane. you don't exactly remember whether he was more excited or scared.

"wrong! try again."

"politics?" you propose.

haechan's face contorts into disbelief, with his mouth twisted with perplex and eyebrows furrowed. "me? politics?"

your mouth runs dry at the roadblock you've faced, and as that annoying, stupid smirk grows, your hatred for him increases by the charts.

"naming departments i'd rather die than join, running your mouth, accusing me of deleting your files..." haechan shakes his head dramatically, rolling his eyes and letting out a fat sigh.

"you think i wanna be stuck here with your infuriating ass? god, you're so entitled, aren't you? aren't you?!"

"talking like you own the place, talking like you're the only one in this world, talking like- mhfh-"

within three angry steps, you were across the room.

within three booming steps, your hands were on his face.

within three significant steps, you were kissing lee haechan.

"you never learn to shu..." with horror, you're brought back from the trance with widened eyes.

"oh, god, sorry. what. what the hell. what the fuck?" you whisper, pushing the boy away with both hands in a panic, trying to highlight your scorn for him by wiping your lips on your sleeve.

had you liked it?

the other scurried to the balcony in a frenzy while you collected yourself in the bathroom, although no amount of water could calm your nerves.

with shaky words in bed, you both agreed to never talk about it again.

[day 25]

"hey, i can see your damn annotations on my article, (y/n). will you stop it?" haechan whines, making you second guess if he was joking or not.

for the nth time that day, you roll your eyes and proceed to sip from your cup of gin tonic that haechan desperately wanted you to try. it was... a refreshing taste, but hell, you wouldn't drink this even if it was the last beverage on earth.

"i'm just giving my feedback, be thankful i didn't bring up that stupid kiss five days ago. bleugh."

haechan falls quiet at that, fingers lingering over the keyboard as he typed out some note with the speed of a sloth's.

"hey, call me donghyuck. that's my actual name," he mumbles, glancing at you through his bangs while he awaits your reply.

"donghyuck? is haechan an alias?"

the boy shrugs, "i don't know, maybe. my friends gave it to me when i was younger, and i just stuck with it."

"full sun? your friend gave it to you, sure." you grin with a gesture of your hand, almost spilling the gin in the clear glass before breaking into small laughter with the other.

[day 28]

"hey! hey, what the hell?" you whisper, feeling the boy huddle up to you in lightning speed.

"what is wrong with you?" you whisper-shout, nudging him off your body as his phone screen remains as the only thing illuminating his face.

"sorry, i- i was watching stranger things while i was shitting and after i cleaned up... i heard something and bolted out of there."

"so now you're butt naked? hyuck, ew!" you groan, thankful for the sheets that were covering your body and his junk. his reluctance to get off you didn't seem to bother you as much as earlier, but you still wished he wasn't literally naked against you.

"go put on your underwear, you big baby. i'll be here when you come out. no demogorgon is going to come out, for real."

"no no, i was watching season two and it was that big shadow thingy that freaked me out. can't you feel this poor boy shivering?" haechan sighed, eyes never leaving the corridor that led to the bathroom.

"i can, and i also can feel your dick. please get dressed, or you're sleeping on the floor," you mumble, pulling the sheets to cover your freezing body.

[day 31]

your face hits something soft, cuddling into it even further because of its warmth before you realise there was only one other thing that would be warm in the room.

haechan.

your breath shakes, and your eyes widen as you pull yourself away from his embrace. your subtle movement leaves him thrashing around, though, and his arms tighten around your figure slowly and endearingly.

gulping, you will your hands to stay in their place, opting to freeze to death although there are hints of heat crawling onto your face.

when you wake up, you find that his hand's in yours and maybe you were searching for one wrong thing. an anomaly, an exception. it fit in yours perfectly, however, his tanned skin glowing lightly under the rays of sun filtering through the curtains.

you hoped he didn't realise the small shift of your fingers as they enclosed around his hand.

[day 32]

"what are you doing out here?" haechan asked quietly, peeking around the sliding door before joining you on the chilly balcony. it wasn't much, but it was still different and refreshing from the old, stagnant aircon air that was blowing in the hotel room.

"can't sleep," you whisper. you had your arms around your figure cautiously, as if it could protect you from all the bad, evil and terror in the world. at this point, you weren't sure what was it that you were feeling, but it sure didn't involve entertaining haechan's teasing.

luckily, he bit his tongue from making the usual snarky remarks.

"it's two in the morning, what's up?"

you shake your head in reply, watching the empty streets as the last light in the apartment across you switches off. sure, at two in the morning, pavements were dusty clean, and the birds were sleeping, but there would always be younger boys smoking along the road, or a drunken group of friends laughing about a past memory.

now that the pandemic forced everyone into their homes, everything was pretty much dead. there wasn't that excitement you felt when you saw a late-night kiss shared between two lovers or the snug hug of a child to his father who was working overtime that day.

"nothing's up, hyuck, it's fine. you can get back to sleep if you want."

maybe today you two were the one causing the ruckus this time, though. haechan may have let his words slipped, and at that moment, you knew you regretted that bloom in your chest when his lips met yours.

"you're so hard to read, (y/n). i want you to be able to trust me, tell me what's going on."

"why do you wanna know anyway? so you can expose me of my bad habits and weak points?" you whisper, eyes trained on the flickering lamppost a few yards away.

"there you go again! again with the sabotage?" haechan scoffed, exiting the small space and stepping back into the room of mixed emotions.

"is this just about your feelings for me?"

haechan laughed, "my feelings? might i remind you that you were the one who kissed me full on the lips twelve days ago? what was that all about? i wanna talk about it, even though we said we wouldn't! i wanna talk about why you hate me so much. i wanna talk about why your emotions are so contradictive!"

your mouth hangs open as you sputter out a heated reply, but instead gets interrupted with a knock on the door.

"keep quiet, you damn teenagers! i don't need your petty fights at two in the morning!" with padded feet, the guest returns to his room and slams the door to emphasise his complaint. swallowing, your mind goes blank as it focuses only on one question.

"why do you want to know so much lee haechan? what are you gaining out of this? if it's not sabotaging, then what is it?!" you whisper, standing your ground as with the first argument.

your throat is clenched up, and your fists are balled up tightly with nails digging into your palm. your heartbeat races like a fast car and your breathing's laboured in the cold room. there's no movement for a second, though they feel like minutes on end as haechan struggles to answer your question.

"what is it, lee donghyuck?" you cry out again, the sparkle in your eyes shining brightly from the tears of your never-ending dispute. he wished it was from the moonlight, instead. he wished the two of you were laughing over the rim of wine glasses and sharing the mischievous glimmer of the moon in your eyes.

"it's nothing. don't mind it." the other turns to catch up on sleep, leaving you to bite your lip.

"now you're doing it, now you're the one doing it. just tell me, you dumbass!" you mumble, pulling on his pyjama sleeve and tugging you to him.

"i like you, okay! it's out there now, i like you a lot, but you make it feel like a crime to do it," haechan whispers, "whatever. fuck this."

"no- what- no, we'll talk this out." you propose, adjusting your grip on his wrist with the curl of your fingers.

the male shakes his head and snatches his arm back, "no, forget it, and i'd prefer if you left me alone, (y/n)."

even with the warmth of his body next to yours, your body felt frozen and stiff. even with the thick duvet cover over you, you felt out of place in the stale hotel room, with colour becoming black and white, they merge into grey as the moonlight shone without a care for your problems.

there's action on the balcony when your eyes flutter open in the morning, noticing the quiet way haechan observes those rushing to work as well as social distancing officers making their rounds.

his eyes look hopeful and youthful, different from the tired ones the night before, or rather, this morning. you hadn't forgotten the angry neighbour banging on the door, and you definitely hadn't forgotten about how much you've wounded haechan this morning.

with a soft knock, you let him know of your presence and you just miss the way his eyes soften at your bed hair and messy appearance. his gaze turns hard in a second as he turns back to the apartment across yours, the balcony door showing your reflection of how hesitant you were.

haechan wished he could take your hands in his and accept your apology in a heartbeat, but he stayed seated and waited for whatever you wanted to say.

"don't run off, please." there's a shameful hand on his shoulders, and he's dying to get up when he sees your downcast eyes in the reflection across the street.

"i was too caught up in getting department head that i... didn't consider other possibilities. even the possibility of you uhm... liking me. it's still a weird concept to me, especially with how much we bicker."

"i'm sorry i didn't stay to hear out your feelings and rather, i just talked over you instead. i'm not sure if you want to accept this or not, but i want to open up—about this, about your feelings and... i don't know how much i've masked my emotions, i just know that we need to communicate."

the doorbell interrupts your apology, but you internally thank the housekeeping for bringing breakfast for the two of you.

with silence over breakfast, you weren't sure how the other felt as he scoffed down the croissant and almost burned his tongue with the coffee he ordered.

[day 33]

the boy barely watches the television and instead, reads over the article you were working on. seeing as it was already there when he logged on, he skimmed through it out of curiosity, finding that you were rephrasing the messy typos and sentences frantically on your notes.

haechan never forgot the way you were typing away on the laptop, eyes reading and rereading the sentences to make sure they made sense, to make sure they were clear to the reader.

the argument had taken a toll on you, too. he sees it in the way your eyes sink when your words turn out choppy and lacking, he sees it in the way you lug your body to the bathroom after a late night, he sees it in the way you struggle to hold your smile while attending an interview.

'haechan. you confuse me. i'm not...' the note below it trails off, piquing his curiosity at what it had in store.

'haechan.' big and bold letters it wrote, with a few dozen question marks below it. your writing skills shine through even in an informal note about your self-proclaimed rival, each line prompting the other to read more.

'you confuse me. i'm not sure what you're at but, it doesn't seem natural for you to tag along with someone you hate, right? that's what i was thinking too.'

'jeez, i remember hating when suyeon told me you were coming along. i didn't believe her one bit until she showed me your plane ticket and the hotel rooms next to each other. god, and when i came here, it was a day of interviewing before the damn government decided to close flights and force us into a room together.'

'i heard that other people had to be separated. i didn't know why we were the unlucky two that had to be put in a room together. i wished we didn't, almost. of course, you annoyed me when we first moved in. hogging the tv to no end, leaving your dirty underwear everywhere, running your mouth just like at our workplace.'

'i couldn't take it, maybe. sure, my brother has similar antics, but there was just something about you that just set me off, you know? i wouldn't have thought it was the opposite, or at least, i think so.'

'i'm counting the days. day 17 and i'm not sure why i feel this bubbling feeling inside me. of course, there's anger—i'm sure it's there, but there's also this other thing i get whenever i look at you.'

'my heart clenches up, and my hands become clammy, but it couldn't be a crush, right? i would've wasted my breath shouting, and my strength whacking your shoulder.' that makes haechan chuckle and look over at you where the soft light dances over your face.

'and then i started imagining. how would your arms wrap around me? how would your infuriating laughter, which somehow turned out to be so contagious, feel in the crook of my neck? yikes, that was cheesy.'

'what would it feel like if we fell in love for one night? where would you bring me and what would we eat? would we make out in your car like unruly teenagers?'

'what would it be like to love you? it's dumb, isn't it? i don't know. i've liked this bickering thing we had going on, and it's amusing to see you one-up me. i'm not sure if i want that to change and i'm not sure if you want us to, either.'

'maybe i'm wrong, and i'm the only one in this thing. this is so stupid, writing while he's sitting next to me. i'll regret this, maybe. goodnight.'

haechan sighs, closing the device in thought, confused at the words he wasn't exactly supposed to read. had you done this on purpose? he was sharing the laptop with you...

the boy brushed it off, placing the laptop on the vanity before adjusting your side of the duvet, hoping he could find the right words. with hesitant steps, he keeps to his side of the bed, thinking, thinking, thinking.

when he couldn't no more, haechan fell into the spell of slumber in the comfortable hotel room.

[day 34]

"tea?" he asks from the bathroom as the door clicks behind you, returning from the short hotel walk with a new keychain hanging from your sling bag.

"yeah sure, thanks."

the water runs as he fills up the kettle as the constant whir of the aircon and the conversation on the television keeps you company in the vast quietness of the room.

you weren't sure if you should say anything, but when you saw the dishevelled appearance of your roommate, you knew you had to bring up the argument and apology.

"haechan, about our... feelings. do you want to talk about them?" you whispered, a reply reaching your ears in the form of his spoon against the porcelain mug.

haechan hands you the drink wordlessly, sitting on the chair at the vanity before sipping cautiously at the tea. there are unexchanged glances between the two of you before he sighs at your expectant hand tapping the sheets.

"i think it's about time we did," he mumbled, dragging the laptop off the wooden table with anxiety. the other opened it without saying anything, catching you by surprise when the mouse hovers over your note.

"hae- donghyuck! no! what the hell?"

he holds up a hand and clicks on it anyway, making your heart drop to your stomach as he turned the device towards you.

"read the bottom." haechan whispers as you pull the laptop closer to you, settling it on your lap as he observed your expressions carefully.

'i read it, i'm sorry.' you look at him and lift up a hand to prepare to whack him, a defeated sigh escaping you before you carried on.

'was it wrong to read it? of course, and i cannot apologise more for doing shit like that when we still have unsolved tension between us in this small ass room. it was incorrect, but.'

'do you feel the same as me? is bickering all we have to do? why can't we work anything out? they're the questions i keep asking myself after i read your letter.'

'i guess i was too caught up in the fight and not wanting to be the loser that i... can't deny that i've never thought about wanting to get to know you, even if you were that sought out to be my destined enemy.'

'when we fought earlier, you kissed me. i know we said not to mention it, but, uhm, it was good. i liked it. i'm not sure if the reason why you did it was because of the reason you mentioned in the note, but at the time, i assumed it was to shut me up. i thought something would happen after, though you pushed me away and apologised right away.'

'it was a far off dream that i had, but i think it was after i bandaged your foot. you said that you didn't know what was going on in my mind, and i told you.'

'it was like, i was granted an insight into an alternate world, another universe where you didn't feel the strain, where you legitimately assumed i was going for your position.'

'you scoffed when i confessed, right then and there, on day 9. i was counting, too, and it was a scary, confusing dream. i think that's why i held it off as long as i could until your words puzzled and angered me further because you just didn't get it.'

'you scoffed and told me to get lost, pushing on my shoulders where we fought on the balcony for everyone to see. you never spoke to me, you never mentioned my article nor the interviews. we never joked over wine, and we always kept to our side of the bed.'

'i was convinced that heaven wanted me to stay away from you and your heart. maybe it was broken too many times, and you had someone up there looking out for you.'

'i feel like i'm copying off the textbook of some greek mythology starter pack, but i'm for real! no kidding.' you smiled, looking at him with nervous eyes at the small joke he put in.

'i guess whoever put that dream in my sleep really wanted us not to be together because i think i would've told you i liked you on the spot itself. i let my conscious get the best of me.'

'i know this is a lazy way of conveying my feelings, and i wished i could do it with words, but i feel like you wouldn't believe me otherwise. i rushed it this morning when you went on your morning walk around the hotel and when you let me know of your stroll in a soft voice, i wanted nothing more than to get you in my arms as we wake up to the housekeeping service.'

'i didn't want any more tension between us, and i didn't want to be interrupted by your alarm while we avoid each other more. it hurts seeing you escape the room in haste. you said it was weird for me to tag along with someone i hate, too, and that someone was you. i guess you found out why.'

looking up, you found him right in front of you, mouth dry from his reply to your letter. with a gulp, you leaned forward to meet his lips halfway.

"i'm sorry to whoever's up there," he whispers, prompting a grin and a laugh out of you.

the laptop is forgotten on the bed as haechan situates himself over you, clutching your shoulder gently while his lips move quickly, fast to make up for lost time.

"wait wait, wait, you're not playing me, are you?" you mumble in return, reluctantly pulling away while witnessing the way his eyes soften at your guard still up. haechan shakes his head forlornly, tongue pressing up against the side of his mouth nervously.

"no, i'm not, (y/n)," he says quietly with as much sincerity he can muster, removing his hand from your shoulder with a forced smile.

"okay." there's a shakiness to your voice, but when you bring his lips back to yours, it gives you a rush of confidence. your skin is burning up, and your hands can't stop wandering as his lips capture yours, repeatedly moving against yours like a trance.

you grant haechan access to your mouth with a whimper, melting into his embrace as his arms wrap tighter around your figure. his eagerness lingers when he pushes forward, straddling your lap as his leg nudges the laptop.

"wait, hyuck, wait, the laptop!" you joke, placing the device on the floor before getting back into the kiss with just as much fervour. within a minute or so, the other breaks away to say the words you so hated to hear:

"we... we need to talk. we can't just kiss the fight off, although i very much like to," haechan murmurs the last part, making you stifle a smile.

you nod quickly, repeating the word "okay" like a robot. your hands naturally travel from his arms down to his fingers, and you clutch them like your life depended on it.

"we have... established, that i like you, correct?" haechan whispers, scooting closer as his tea-ridden breath surrounds you. from here, you could even smell the buttered croissant he ate this morning.

it made you smile, something simple as that.

"why- why are you laughing (y/n)?" he asks anxiously, eyes darting to find the reason why you found this so funny.

"no. no no no, i'm thinking of... the croissant you ate just now, and," you sigh, resting your head on his broad shoulder.

"i'm thinking of the way your eyes light up when you show me the articles you idolise so much, and i'm thinking of the way you cuddle up to me whenever we watch stranger things."

"i'm thinking of the way you thought i wouldn't give you a chance, even though i've been pondering on the same thing as you. i'm thinking of the things that make up lee haechan, lee donghyuck. yes, you like me, and yes i like you, but i guess i haven't told you the reason."

"i hated you, i really did. i found every reason to convince my mind to hate you. gaining trust, signing up for events you didn't know shit about, sucking up to the seniors, stealing my friends when they didn't know your personality. the personality i didn't even want to know because i was too busy in my little bubble."

"assuming you'd want to get department head was the cherry on top, because why else would you want to tag along? that was the factor that convinced me and confirmed my suspicions from day one."

you grunt in opposition, clearly not liking the truth that was spilling from your lips. haechan deserved to know, however. you kept your eyes trained on his lap where his hands were holding yours in support, crumbling from the blindness that caused your hatred.

"so from then, the plane ride, immigration, the cab to the interview place, the cab back, the hotel room, my hatred for you boiled over." you listed, voice breaking as you looked haechan in the eye.

"it was stupid of me to assume, to assume the worst of you when i didn't even know you. i wasn't even sure why i felt so bitter looking at you, but the way you acted, the way you whined, worked me up so much that i figured that was how you were."

"now when i'm sitting here with the curtains drawn, i can see why you're so attractable and easy to talk to and easy-going and bright that my friends keep talking to you."

"i can see why the seniors turn to you because you're reliable and hardworking without uttering a single word."

"i can see why you wanted to hop on this flight with me because you're always curious about the world and how you can expand your skill set."

and as you said word after word, haechan observes you with a soothing hand against your forearms. his eyes shine for a different reason, for the lost time he could've had if the two of you didn't have this massive barrier. a massive barrier that's been up for the longest time.

brick by brick, the wall is being torn down. as you hold haechan's face in the stillness of the room, you feel closer to him than you've ever felt and his tears match your frustrated ones.

choking on sobs, delayed apologies were all you could whisper.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry, really. we fought so bad that day, and i was so goddamn insensitive..." you sigh, swallowing a lump when his hand reached up to wipe the tears. with a blocked nose, you breathe shakily as housekeeping interrupts the moment.

you nod towards the door as he stood up slowly to reveal the same housekeeping girl. she cleaned up the bathroom and wardrobe quietly as the two of you stood awkwardly in the small space. she had left the sheets since everyone was practically stuck in, anyway.

haechan nudges you toward the door with a shove, shooting the same housekeeping girl a small smile and a bow as an apology to the previous run-in.

"he confessed his feelings?" she inquired softly, noticing the tear marks on your face.

you bit your lip, "yeah."

"that's good, he's finally not a coward." she laughs, folding the used towels and placing them with her.

you leaned against the door, asking for an explanation with your puzzled look.

"he was someone i liked, before. we had classes back in high school. it was just a dumb crush, honestly." the housekeeping girl shrugs, resting her head on her fist in thought.

"i think he liked me, and i did too, but we didn't do much except for exchange looks and flirt because both of us were just too scared." she shakes her head and adjusts the disinfectant spray bottle, fidgeting with the nozzle.

"i'm glad he had enough courage to admit his feelings."

nodding along to her statement, she bids you farewell as her figure fades with each step, leaving you with a sense of calmness to the end of this situation.

[day 38]

"is... is this okay?" haechan asks, arm hovering over your body while waiting for your confirmation. you smile and nod, sinking into his side as you venture in the third season of stranger things together.

"don't you think we should be working on our articles?" you whisper, looking up at him from where you were with raised eyebrows.

the boy opens and closes his mouth in thought, gesturing to the television with an exaggerated expression.

"stranger things, ma'am."

you click your tongue and sigh with a smile, turning back to the show as you try to relax for an online interview in a few hours.

[day 39]

"what do you say about my set-up?" haechan nudges you, proud of the hangout area he prepared on the balcony. although small, he had no trouble making it look comfortable.

with a smile, you pop open the wine to celebrate the last scheduled interview for the trip, clinking glasses with haechan in the setting sun.

the country you were supposed to return to was slowly opening up flights for those stranded overseas and as refreshing as a different environment was, you missed home and the warmness of it.

you missed the office and your desk. hell, you even missed the mediocre coffee from the pantry.

with the last of the wine finishing, haechan pours half into your glass and the other into his, clinking one last time before you one-shot the beverage.

the high of the alcohol is gradually brought down by the mellow atmosphere and colours of twilight. as pink and orange cross over on the horizon, haechan mumbles a low "c'mere" to you in the darkness.

you hum in response and get up from your seat, bringing a pillow with you as haechan shifts to make space. sinking naturally into his arms, you sigh while you try to contain a smile full of content.

"this is nice," you admit, the corners of your lips disobeying your command, prompting you to shoot him a smile. haechan nods against your hair, a comfortable arm around your waist while you trace the tan skin of his arm.

the other taps your waist repeatedly, turning in response as he whispers out a question that makes your heart melt.

"can i kiss you?" you grin, slipping a hand around his neck and pulling him in right away. haechan's caught by surprise, laughing into your lips and striving to savour the moment as much as he could.

a shout from across the hotel distracts you from the kiss. looking up, you realise it was the apartment resident opposite you shooting you a 'rock on' gesture.

"you guys are not fighting anymore! congrats!" you both stifle a snort as you wave back to the resident, sighing in relief when their balcony door slides shut.

"should we go inside, m'lady?" haechan giggles, replying in the form of a nod, cleaning up the area while you head in.

[day 41]

"i didn't think they'd be letting flights in so early," you mumble, folding your clothes neatly as your vision shifts to haechan... shoving his fair share of apparel into his luggage.

"donghyuck... what the hell?" you roll your eyes, shoving the boy softly as you took over the task at hand. switching personalities almost immediately, haechan fakes an interview segment with exaggerated tones.

"see, everyone, this is how you convince someone to do the work for you," the boy lays on the bed with a satisfied expression, "now i don't have to do anyth- ow!"

"if we ever live together, maybe i should punish you by doing the laundry and then folding it," you grunt, working at the speed faster than you expected while you fold shirt after shirt.

"are you proposing we move in together?" haechan peeks through an open eye, curiosity dripping from his tone. he tried to feign nonchalance but awaiting your answer felt like a weight on his heart.

your next words lifted that weight, a seemingly invisible force bringing his upper body off the bed as he stares at you in shock.

"maybe, not now but... in the future, maybe," you mumble the last part, focusing on the clothes to prevent the male from seeing the fluster on your face.

"for real?" haechan sits up, biting his lip to contain his excitement as your confirmation.

"we'll be all stupidly domestic and shit, and i'll say i love you five years from now before you go off for work if you want that and stuff," your voice goes lower and quieter, especially towards the end, biting off way more than you could chew.

"aw! i love you too!" haechan gushes, bringing you into an embrace as your hands go limp, scrambling to explain your emphasis on the 'future'.

"d-donghyuck, i meant the future, not now..." you manage to spit out, hoping you need not answer his queries any more. your mind blanks out at the current situation, wishing you hadn't said those dumb things.

he grins into your neck, "i know, i'm just answering for future me."

you groan and escape the hug with a roll of your eyes, "yuck, too cheesy!" the boy just lets out a laugh, watching the way you fold his clothes despite your initial annoyance.

[day 42]

suyeon switches between the two of you in disbelief, finger crooked at the ambiguity of "we like each other".

"wha-" suyeon doesn't get the chance to finish the sentence before you shoot her a thumbs up, grabbing haechan by the arm and your stuff with the other.

you were happy to leave the office after a quick debrief since you two had reported to the office right after arriving at the airport, relieved when you heard he'd spare a few more days for your articles to be cleaned up.

"so, (y/n), what would you like to do now?" haechan looks at you through the reflective material of the elevator, observing the nervous wringing of your fingers.

you're glad for the material protecting your face because there's a smile that you struggle to keep as his soft, gentle voice carries through the quiet space.

the anxiety ends when the lift sounds, prompting your eyes to trail down his arm. your hand moves on its own accord, grabbing his last finger with yours as you proceed into the lift sheepishly, not missing the way haechan's eyes show his bright smile behind the mask.

"maybe i'll get to know you more, lee donghyuck."

haechan lets out a gasp, "have you not learned about me enough? scandalous."

you feign a punch in his direction, the luggage beside you tripping over its wheels due to your swift movement. the only response you get is a giggle from the other as he tightens his pinky around yours, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek right above your face mask just as the elevator doors open.

"man, i really do want to punch you now," you mutter as you let haechan lead you, wanting nothing more than to rest in the arms of your enemy-turned-friend? enemy-turned-someoneyoulike?

you weren’t exactly sure.

he doesn't answer during the walk to the main road, nor the ride back to your home, the only constant thing being the way he admires your profile in the taxi, shrugging when you counter with a playful "what?".

"nothing," haechan grins.

[there are more days to come]

sure, day forty-one may not have been the day you fell in love with haechan, nor the day where he outwardly claims you as his lover.

but, taking it slow never hurt anyone, either.

you know it in the way he tells you he can't go in unless he's invited and you see it in the way he asks if he can switch the television on while you prepare some drinks.

like the hotel, you know it in the way he asks if he can kiss you and the way he deepens his kisses with caution.

you appreciate it in the way he quickly apologises for a personal question, while visibly relaxing as you brush it off with a smile.

with hours pass, day forty-two becomes day forty-three, and haechan remains as chivalrous as always.

days pass, and you submit your articles. weeks pass, and you get to know the boy more and more. months pass, and you feel his love in the way he plays with your fingers in the dark and pulls you close under the sheets.

even if you hadn't acknowledged the love between the two of you, that note you wrote half-drunk matched the way you felt now—with how your heart clenches up and with how your grin never leaves your face with haechan around.

there are more days to come with lee haechan, lee donghyuck, even if it meant getting stuck together in a hotel room with unsaid words.

358 notes · View notes

booksandlewks · 4 years

Text

Intensity in Insmire | A Jurdan AU

Happy Holidays to my wonderful knife wife @starborn-faerie-queen!! I’m so lucky to have you as my friend and now snusband (we’re def married now) <3 I was so excited to see that I got to try and write something for you. I also have to thank everybody in the @jurdannet discord for helping me with my writer’s anxiety throughout, and @jurdannetrevels for hosting this secret santa event!

So this was a prompt you didn’t ask for, but that I hope you will like. I thought of this right when I saw your name and have had a blast making it a reality. One of our first conversations in the discord was about none other than Lauren Layne, so I thought I’d give it my best go at making it Jurdan. I picked what I think of as the iconic scene in Passion on Park Avenue because Jude and Cardan literally define passion. You also put Nicaryn, so in my head when I wrote this they’re already dating and Jude just hasn’t noticed.

"Be careful, you're going to drop that!" Jude said watching her twin throw down yet another box full of her merchandise.

It was times like these that Jude wondered about her choice in friends. Not that she had so many choices in friends to begin with, something about her being "abrasive". People may not always appreciate her edges, but that edge is what landed her on the 30 under 30 list. She was grateful, if not confused, about her new-found friendships. While the ladies made for excellent company, and fellow schemers in action, a moving company they were not. Not that Jude would say a word against their help out loud. She was still so grateful to have her twin back in her life.

Jude would thank Locke for bringing them together, if she'd thought it was even remotely a part of his plan. Maybe she could thank him for dying, so that they could find each other in the park that fateful day. Not likely, she had better people to think on.

Nicasia kicked a box into the corner with the toe of her Louboutin heels, "You worry too much, they're not going to break because I didn't gingerly place every single one of your hundreds of boxes down."

"I'm not worried about you breaking an accessory," Jude said huffing as she moved to open the box Nicasia had kicked to prove a point. She held up the lipstick tube, twisting to expose the blade to prove her point. "I'm worried about one of my accessories breaking you."

"Oh, I like that," Taryn laughed, her eyes widening, "Can I borrow that for my next date?"

"Well, it is just a sample," Jude nodded her head to the truck parked outside her new building, "You can keep it if you help me unload the rest of the truck."

"You drive a tough bargain, a days labor in exchange for one accessory?" Nicasia teased.

Jude put one hand to her heart and the other to her forehead dramatically, "Oh you're truly suffering going up and down the elevator while carrying small boxes."

"These boots were not exactly made for walking Jude," Nicasia said flicking her hair over her shoulder, and punctuating it with an all too casual check of her nails. Why she wouldn't just concede to putting her hair up was beyond frustrating to Jude. She wasn't sure if she hated or respected Nicasia's commitment to always looking perfect.

"I mean I didn't get to where I was by giving things away for free, but I may have also ordered us pizza and tiramisu from the Italian place on Lexington Ave."

"Ahh I knew you were my favorite twin!" Taryn said wrapping her arms around Jude and kissing her cheek with an exaggerated smack.

"I'm your only twin, and you definitely did not know it."

"The real question isn't why I can't move things in these heels, it's why you think I should be doing this in the first place," Nicasia said glancing speculatively.

"Wait, yeah, aren't you meant to be rich now Jude?"

"Well, according to my accountant, approximately I am," Jude tilted her head and pretended to tally with her free hand, "filthy rich." She moved the box that had been hoisted on her hip onto the floor of what would be the main living area.

Jude wasn't insane, the larger items like the couch and industrial garment racks would be delivered by a moving company later. She just knew that she could handle the smaller boxes herself. She'd always survived by being self-sufficient, so she wasn't going to start changing what was working now. She'd moved herself into her first shoe box apartment, all her belongings compact and loaded into the back of her ancient little two door.

"Then why on earth are we moving all of this by hand?" Taryn said turning to her sister, exasperated to see the determination gracing her twin's face. She hated that look, especially when it was on the face that was practically her own under all that stubbornness. "Nic, I need backup here, we're entering dangerously uncharted areas in stupidity. "

"Jude, love, remember when we agreed to stop each other from entering another toxic relationship?" Nicasia said gently, her hands up as if coaxing a small animal.

"No, I've blocked out the entirety of Locke's funeral out of a sense of self-preservation," she said voice and face purposefully blank.

"Why stop there, why not erase him from your entire mind?" Taryn said a bitter edge to her words.

Jude laughed, "Me and my therapist are hard at work doing just that."

"Well while you're working on that, have her work on the toxic relationship you've got with your stupid pride," Nicasia said checking her already perfect nails.

"Wait, was all of that just the set up for the punchline to your dumb joke?"

"Woah Tar, harsh words from the woman who asked for my backup in the first place." Nicasia pursed her lips clearly displeased that Taryn had not enjoyed her attempts at humor. "Maybe you should try being nicer to me considering that I have the power to save you from Jude's torture."

Jude laughed as Taryn started to pester Nicasia to tell her what she meant. While they'd all become fast friends on the fateful day of the funeral, Jude couldn't help but feel that Nicasia and her twin had gotten closer over the summer. She supposed it had to do with the fact that they both had to worry about their reputations and what the fallout from Locke's infidelity would do to it.

That old wound started niggling at Jude again. She may not have been in an official New York society relationship with the man, but she'd had to mourn the loss too. She supposed it hadn't affected her societal standing, being Locke's dirty secret, but she hadn't gotten out unscathed. The bastard had known about her fears. She'd confided in him, about her mother's cheating and how she'd grown up not wanting to get attached for fear of ending up in a similarly messed up situation.

He'd comforted her, talking about how cheating on somebody wasn't in her character. He'd spelled out what their story could be instead, spinning a story of comfort, safety in his arms, and safety in that future. It made Jude's skin crawl to think about now. How he could say all of this while cheating on her with Nicasia and Taryn, and using her to cheat on them. Some nights it actually made her physically ill. She was such a careful woman, and yet she'd never suspected.

She wondered if lying to her was part of the game to him, it had to be. Jude thought about how she'd considered bridging the gap and calling Taryn to tell her that she'd met somebody. She'd been too scared to reopen that wound. At eighteen Jude walked away from the stifling role of being Madoc's daughter. She hadn't thought about what leaving Taryn behind to deal Madoc's only other eligible daughter would do. She left her behind for him to put all of his stupid high society rules and dreams into. She'd wondered about her twin over the years, but could never pick up the phone and just dial. What would things be like if she had? Thinking about it wouldn't change anything.

During Jude's musings Taryn had moved into Nicasia's lap and was switching between pleading and apologizing. Her groveling was so over the top that a warm spot bloomed in Jude's chest while watching her. She had no idea how much she'd missed Taryn, and yet having her take up space in her apartment just felt right.

"Okay, okay, fine!" Nicasia said standing up and taking Taryn with her. "I happen to have a friend through the New York royalty network, as you call it, and he lives in this very apartment complex."

"Oh thank god, I love you Judie Bee Jones, but this is the worst."

"Woah no, I never agreed to having anybody over," Jude said walking over to lock her door, "and wasn't the point of having you ladies around to avoid the assholes."

"How can you call them an asshole when you don’t even know who it is?" Nicasia asked unlocking the door. Jude went to stop her, but Taryn simply took her face in her hands and pointed it towards the window where the open moving truck stood idle.

"I promise he's good people, we grew up together," Nicasia said clearly forgetting that her and Jude had not exactly grown up as friends.

Jude did not have much of a chance to consider who might be coming to the rescue she did not need, as there was a knocking at the door.

The warmth she felt from being with her friends left her the second she opened the door and saw Cardan Greenbriar standing there. She'd never seen Cardan look anything less than impeccable, so she was even more furious to see him standing there looking like a Saks Fifth Avenue model from the catalog to help her move. A cable knit sweater, really, to move boxes. With an overcoat no less. No, no, this couldn't possibly be happening. Jude would rather move every single box one by one, than have Cardan Greenbriar help her.

What on earth could have even possessed him to try. She thought she'd made it clear when she'd damn near bitten his head off in her "entry interview" to the apartment complex. It wasn't her fault. Cardan had a particular way of getting under her skin, and the fact that he'd known her from her twin and had not even bothered to look at the application resting in his hand the entire interview had gotten her blood boiling. She'd never actually wanted to live in Elfhame.

The stupid application had been filled out for her and sent in by her mother ages ago. Eva Duarte had been so proud of Jude's success, it had never occurred to her that her mother had plans to use it as a statement. She'd miss her mother's mean streak, and wished she'd been around longer so Jude could understand this plan. Jude had been shocked to be called in for the interview to move into The Palace, and caught completely off guard to see Cardan on the day of the interview.

She must've released an actual snarl at seeing him darkening her new doorstep because Taryn and Nicasia pried her away from the door and invited him to come in. This was ridiculous ; she was not a rabid dog to be put in the corner. Although, she was considering biting Cardan.

"And hello to you too Jude," Cardan said laughing as she struggled to break free of the grip of her friends, "Lovely as ever to see you."

"Why am I seeing you?"

Cardan raised an eyebrow at that, "Not a very friendly greeting neighbor."

"I read over the paperwork your father sent over and it said that the building takes care of pests in the apartments."

"Ha ha, very funny Jude," Cardan said stalking closer, "I do hope that's true, as I'd love to see them take you out of here."

"Really, we're going to resort to I know you are but what am I?" Jude intoned, "On day one?"

“Is this really our first day together, Judiebeet?"

"Don't call me that!"

"As much as I do love seeing you upset my sweet villain," he said trailing a finger over her cheeks, "I didn't come to pick a fight." Jude knew her cheeks had to be bright red, she always got flushed when she was mad. She hated that he had command over her, more than she appeared to have over her own body. Which only made her more upset when he called her that stupid name.

"Why did you come, I had demon summoning scheduled for later in the day," Jude said ignoring the looks Nicasia and Taryn were shooting her.

"I was informed of a damsel in distress, and princely duties demanded that I come to your aid."

"Oh no, that's it," Jude turned on her friends glaring, and pointing at the door while practically shoving Cardan out, "Everybody out, I'll move them all myself."

"Wait, but I brought champagne," Cardan said materializing a bottle from the inside of his coat.

"Jude you can't kick the man out, he brought Dom," Taryn said pulling Cardan back into the apartment by his arm. Jude watched as he re-entered what was meant to be her space, unwilling to fight with Taryn.

"Fine, but if he's here he works," Jude said looking at Cardan as if to say 'unless you've got a problem with that.' The Cardan she knew would never deign to do a day's labor on his own. Always calling somebody his father employed to do things for him instead. So Jude was shocked when all he did was set the actually quite nice bottle on the counter, and gesture his hand towards the door with a look that said 'after you'.

Jude was not sure if she was pleased or pissed off when Cardan actually matched her for work ethic for the rest of moving. He eventually took off the coat, and the sweater, tossing them on the counter with his welcome gift. Jude wished he had not, as she'd been determined to carry more than him before that. She would have managed it too, if he had not rolled up his white dress shirt to the direct center of his forearm. Where it hugged just below his elbow as he worked.

She dropped one of her merchandise boxes when his arm brushed hers while reaching for another, shocked by the contact of his skin hot against her own. Furious with herself for the look that graced his face when she cursed and picked up the box, she decided to be less ambitious with how much she carried.

They had not actually had all that many boxes left. Which made it all the more traitorous that Nicasia had called in for help. As the work dwindled Nicasia and Taryn gave up the pretense of pretending to want to help move the boxes, and sat on the benches that were near the building's entrance. They sat close talking and laughing quietly at each others jokes. Jude could be funny too, but her humor was more dry and wicked. Just as Jude was sprinting to get the very last box, the pizza delivery driver had pulled up to the curb.

Taryn had gone from commiserating with Nicasia, to giving Jude puppy eyes in 10 seconds flat. Jude laughed softly as she went to go pay the man. Her path was blocked by Cardan who'd made a beeline for the car as it pulled in, while she'd been distracted. If she hadn't been so focused on his damn arms she might have missed how he went to get his wallet from his back pocket. Hell no.

Jude stood one shot at having Taryn and Nicasia not mention her attitude since Cardan walked in, and that was to buy their silence. Nothing says be on my side like hot pizza and good dessert. Which is why she was going to pay for it. Cardan was already handing the man a crisp bill when Jude went to shift the box she'd been holding to under one arm. God, she hated him so much. She'd already missed out on getting to bond with her friends over how annoying moving was because of him, and now he was going to ruin their meal too?

He'd already ruined Jude's childhood, but she was an adult now, and he would not even get a single day from her. She grabbed the boxes of her food and walked to the elevator clicking the button for her floor and slamming on the door close button before he could follow. She walked into her apartment, and she would've locked Cardan out if it not for the fact she had to wait on Taryn and Nicasia to follow. If she had to face him again today, it was going to be on her terms and her rules.

Jude moved to the boxes now all neatly lined up in what would be her living room. She scanned the barcode stickers on the top of the boxes, each item had been carefully cataloged so that she could be sure that she didn't lose anything important in the move. Downsides to owning and running a successful companies that sold accessories with a dangerous edge? There was so much inventory to keep track of.

She found what she was looking for and swapped her sneakers for stilettos. She'd love to see Cardan try to look down on her when they were eye level. She'd give a new meaning to the term glaring daggers. She was perfectly capable of paying for a damn pizza.

The door of her apartment opened and Cardan strolled in, his arm around each of her friends. Jude let out a breath that his shirt had been set back to normal, although she was not sure if she was relieved.

"Really, my own twin?" she said putting a hand on her hip and looking at Taryn who moved, hands up, to sit on the counter top.

"Jude, he got us pizza, please be reasonable," Taryn said in a placatory tone.

"I got you pizza, this interloper just stole it because pizza is joy, and he can't let me have it."

"You need to stop, you're hangry and turning into rude Jude," Nicasia teased using the family nickname she knew Jude hated. That was just low, she'd revealed that in a 2 A.M. group chat. Which every woman knows means it’s classified information.

She was being rude, she knew, but well...frankly he started it. Years ago, but she was a petty elephant and would not forget.

"Fine, have a slice of pizza and then get the fuck out."

When Nicasia and Taryn turned their looks at her, Jude just blinked her eyes slowly a few times. She had never claimed to be a saint.

"Can I at least get a drink before you kick me out on my ass?" Cardan asked the corner of his mouth upturned.

"Nope, sorry," Jude started and feeling her friends angry stares added, "I just moved in, and I haven't stocked the fridge yet."

"Well, then it's lucky for us my friend was kind enough to drop in to christen the home with champagne," Nicasia said as she made remove the muselet. Jude watched her carefully grip the wire as she twisted it off with effortless ease, and admired her friends grace. Jude would've likely embarrassed herself biting at it. She'd been served champagne at events, but it always came in a glass if she was honest.

With the sound of the popping cork her control of the apartment got further away from her. She watched as the three of them opened cupboards and looked at an empty counter top as if expecting glassware to simply appear. Jude knew she could easily scan the boxes and find her glassware, but business had taught her to spot an opportunity.

"Oh darn, it seems like we can't get you that drink after all."

"Yes, you seem very forlorn about it," Cardan said shaking his head at her, amusement in those dark eyes.

Jude gave him a mock apologetic shrug of her shoulders, lips pulled to one side of her mouth. The amusement in his eyes turned to challenge. Unbeknownst to Jude, Cardan's newest hobby was complicated jigsaw puzzles. He had needed something to do while being able to keep an eye on his father, and he found that once he started he just couldn't resist figuring out how the pieces fit together. She'd just presented him with his newest game, and he was going to figure out her pieces.

"Don't worry my darling, like I said we're neighbors now," smiling when Jude scowled at the pet name, "I can just head to my place, and get us some glasses."

It was clear that he'd gotten under Jude's skin when she stalked towards Nicasia and took the bottle from her, and into her own hands. Nicasia just looked at Taryn, and whatever that look meant Taryn must have understood. She moved to the edge of the counter top and invited Nicasia into the circle of her legs, resting her chin on her the top of the other woman’s head.

"How very unfortunate for high-born little princes like you, that you can only sip champagne from the finest of glasses."

She looked right into his eyes as she began glugging the expensive bubbly from the bottle and drinking it like watered down beer. She raised an eyebrow at him as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I do hope I haven't offended you Cardan," she said snarling out his name as if it was foul, "I'd hate to scare you off from ever visiting again."

"Not at all, I'm quite charmed by your lovely manners," he said walking over to where she stood by Nicasia. "Do not expect others to share my depraved tastes," he said taking the bottle from Jude's firm grip and drinking directly while their gazes stayed locked in a battle of wills.

"Nic, you feel like we're interrupting something here?" Taryn said from where she sat inches away. It shocked Jude out of her stupor, and her sister hopped off the counter as Jude made to reach for her. She was suddenly stricken, it was all fine and well to hurt Cardan, but she wouldn't lose Taryn again. Not when she just got her back.

"Ugh I thought you'd never ask, this is all too straight for me," Nicasia said taking Taryn's hand and making for the door.

"Wait guys, don't go--"

"Nope, text us when you're ready to act like a person again," Nicasia said laughing as the door shut behind their quickly retreating figures.

"Way to go, you scared them off with your stupid smoldering thing."

"Jude, I think you'll find I'm not the one in the wrong here, although I am delighted to hear you think I smolder," Cardan said backing away from her.

"I meant that stupid staring," she started but trailed off when she noted his smug face.

"Jude, all I've done today is bring you a housewarming gift and offer help at my friends request."

Jude opened her mouth to protest about the pizza slight, but stopped as she'd realized she'd just dig herself into a deeper hole. All he'd really done was cover her food for her and her friends. Was it possible that her childhood tormentor really had come here without the intent of torturing her. She'd been too caught up in trying to catch his next move, that it hadn't occurred to her. He’d clearly taken her silence to mean something else, because he went to gather his coat and sweater.

"Look, it's clear you don't want me here and I'm not actually trying to hold you hostage in your own apartment."

Jude's pride stopped her from correcting him. She'd been working so hard to get him to leave, that she couldn't exactly walk back her position now. She wanted to though, she wanted to grab him by those rather toned arms and hold him in place. To explain herself or make him explain himself, she wasn't sure. Instead she nodded her agreement, and silently watched him leave. She watched as he walked down the hall, opening and then closing his door. Only then did she finally unfreeze from her doorway and shut her own door.

She sat for about 30 minutes just trying to process all that had just happened. She was not sure when she'd become the villain in this story, but she didn't enjoy the feeling. He was the bully, not her. If his actions today were to be trusted, maybe not even him any longer. Jude stood up suddenly confident in her movements as she scanned the boxes searching for her glasses. She hadn't actually moved everything today, so all she was able to find was some coffee mugs. She looked down at her "I Rule" coffee cup, it'd have to do.

Jude went to where the remains of the bottle was left on the counter, and poured it into the cup. She wouldn't apologize, as she was not truly sorry. Even if he was not the menace he used to be, one day of rudeness was the least of what he'd deserved. She did however write what she'd call her concession. She'd apologized for the coffee mug. The note told him that while her fine Waterford Crystals were still in storage, it should taste just as good coming out of a mug. Jude left the note under the cup, and knocked on his door before leaving.

#if you hate the story I’m sorry but at least you have a cute edit #that was braggy about the edit....but it have lotta color so i like it #matching watches or shoes wasn't very them #so i figured the accorn like Jude found in the book #also i made Nicasia's hair slightly blue in the edit #uhh mostly just dying about the words #i don't normally publish anything #i was considering chickening and just giving the edit #but your secret santa box and note were too damn loving and supportive #damn you #if you love it can i be Mrs. Starborn?#I know the position of Mr. Starborn is taken #but I love you so please consider opening a secondary position #if i could send you a box of cartoon hearts i would #jurdan #jurdannet #jurdannetrevels #secret snusband #jurdan fic

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werevulvi · 4 years

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I wanted to write a bit about sex segregated spaces, in regards to people who pass as the opposite sex. This is not actually about trans people, as much as it is about the safety, integrity and general rights of male-passing biological women. I am not the only gender non-conforming woman who gets tossed out of female only spaces, based on the false presumption that we’re men. I do not care about validating trans women, or even trans men, for that matter. I care about real life practicality, risks and safety for ALL women, not just those who look conveniently clearly female, which starts with accepting that some women, whether they've medically transitioned or not, pass as male. And none of them should have to feminise themselves to access female only spaces. Whether that be to ensure safety from males, or to just take a leak.

The fact that I choose to keep my beard has almost nothing to do with that I'm male-passing. It may be my strongest "male" feature, but it's hardly the only one. I still pass as male with a clean shaven face, which makes shaving my beloved beard rather pointless, in my opinion. I would realistically need to go through more than just facial hair removal to pass as my own sex again. I'd probably even need facial feminisation surgery, hair transplant, voice feminisation and full body hair removal, at the very least, to even get close to passing as female again. But even then, I'd probably STILL be read as a trans woman, i.e. male. And even IF I did all that... WHY should I have to mutilate myself (a second time) by buying into harmful patriarchal beauty standards, which would worsen my dysphoria and reduce my comfort in my own skin significantly, to be allowed the safety of male-free spaces?

Does that sound feminist to you? Because to me, it's incredibly misogynistic, and strongly counterproductive. To uphold patriarchal gender roles for the safety of women... is the most insanely anti-feminist double standard I can possibly ever think of.

To lay out my argument on this topic, I'm going to use my own experiences as examples a lot. Mostly because I cannot with any conscience speak for anyone else than myself, at least not in such detail and with such harsh judgement. But I'm sure a lot of my experiences are applicable to other masculine women as well.

First off, I still consider myself gender critical, but my allegiance to radical feminism has been waning lately. This is mostly due to that although I agree with the base premise of radfem, I tend to disagree with the proposed solutions to almost all of the issues, because to me they come across as unfounded beliefs (yes, BELIEFS) that "it would just work" without much of any evidence to back up such a claim.

And when it comes to trans people, I've noticed a lot of... shall we say, willful ignorance, going on among many radfems, which does affect opinions on gender abolishion as well as sex segregated spaces to appear rather... intellectually dishonest, to be frank. Although this is not intended as a call out by any means, I merely want for people of all sides of the radfem/gender critical/pro-trans fence to stay critical and keep questioning everything, even one's own beloved ideology. Which I don't see a lot of. Instead I see almost religious defending of radfem as the ultimate/perfect ideology... oh, guess where I've seen that before? I've come to believe that "hivemindedness" is probably part of every possible ideology out there. Even radfem.

So, anyway.

One thing I come across time and time again is the belief (yes, I dare say "belief") that people never pass as the opposite sex, although it's mostly directed at trans people, this very much applies to people who are just gnc as well. Let's not forget that. And this belief seem to often lead to that transitioned/gnc people can just use the space intended for their biological sex, no problem. However, this is not the case. There is a problem. Very many trans people, and some gnc people, pass well enough to at least blend in enough to not raise much of an eyebrow among the opposite sex, and to most definitely stand out as an outsider among people of the same sex. OR they pass barely enough as either sex, and thus stand out as an outsider among both the same sex and the opposite sex, which can cause similar problems with single sex spaces.

There's also the thing that it generally is easier to pass as the opposite sex among complete strangers, compared to people who know you/your background. They tend to read you differently, depending on that.

At least in my experience, complete strangers assume I'm male and don't even as much as raise an eyebrow about how male I come across as. They accept their false assumption at face value. And why wouldn't they? 99,97% of people who "look like me" are biologically men. Then people who know I'm transitioned, but didn't know me pre-transition, tend to see me as a female who looks very convincingly male, whether that makes me a masculine woman, trans man, or any other (female) label in their eyes. They claim to be able to "see" my female nature, yet they somehow had no idea before I told them about my true sex. Then people who know about my history and saw it happen from the time before my transition (now only really my family) never quite succeeded to see me as anything other than a gnc woman. To quote my dad: "You look like a woman who's trying to look like a man." Although I'm sure my mom and sister don't have quite as harsh views about me, lol. They still seem to see me the way they always have, regardless of what name or pronouns they use for me.

This matters, because although people who know I'm transitioned and may even have witnessed my transition from the beginning, struggle to see me as a man (which I respect entirely and I'm VERY careful to not push wanting to be seen/read as anything in particular, but also, people do not want to be rude, especially irl) that does not go for people who have never even seen me before the moment I walk into... say, a public bathroom. To them I cannot possibly be anything other than a man, and it's almost impossible to change their view of me as male once their brains have registered me as such. I need to conjure up pretty fucking compelling evidence to shatter that view they have of me.

This is important, because it means I cannot feasibly use female only spaces, unless someone else (who is also female) vouches for me and explains my situation for me. This is, most likely due to people being more likely to believe an unlikely explanation when it's told by someone else, because maybe I could be lying; and only someone of the same sex as me can accompany/escort me into female only spaces, obviously. But even then, there's a ton of tension around my presentation. An air of distrust, basically. The question that hangs in the air: "Is that a trans woman?" even after they've been given a thorough explanation of my situation. It's uncomfortable for everyone involved. Imagine how it goes then if I'd just show up unannounced, and without someone to vouch for me. I just get booted on sight.

Yes, I can whine about this all day, but that is NOT my point.

My point is that I'm either directly, or implicitly, unwelcome in female only spaces, despite being biologically female, because of my transitioned appearance... despite I'm not even on testosterone anymore since 2 years ago. Sure, most gnc women (whether transitioned or not) don't seem to have turned out quite as passable as me, but clearly, it happens. So let's stop pretending that it doesn't.

So with that in mind, I don't always have access to a gender neutral space. Like for example when I travel with the ferry that goes between my island and the mainland of my country, there is only men's bathrooms and women's bathrooms. No third option. That's a 3 hour boat ride, and with my coffee drinking habit, I will need to pee at some point or another while aboard that ship, alright. And no, peeing in the ocean is not an option, as squatting over the railing would be incredibly dangerous, and most likely not even remotely allowed. Granted, I don't take the ferry often, it's just the most clear example I can think of. Because it's my only means of transportation to/from the mainland, except from flying, which is incredibly expensive, less reliable and obviously an environmental hazard. So when I do have to use that ferry, I'm kinda stuck with my choices.

So then, am I better off going with the men's or women's bathroom? I am much more likely to be left alone to do my business in the men's, so even though that is not the space I want to be in, nor do I think it's "right" for me to be there, sometimes it's even a bit scary, other times even impractical if there's only urinals and no stall, and it's absolutely not validating at all - it's the only bathroom that I can realistically use, without too much trouble. And I don't want trouble. But I also hate having to put my own safety on the backburner for the perceived safety of other women, who are not actually at any higher safety risk when left alone with me.

So, onto the more general, political aspects of this issue:

Women in male only spaces may be less of an issue in regards to safety, at least for the majority of people (men) in that space, especially if the woman in question passes as male. No one gives a fuck, generally. But problem is then that she is at far greater risk than the majority of people (women) would be with a single male, in a female only space. As I think a group of women against one male is generally less risk towards the women, when compared to a group of men against a single female, which can be extremely dangerous for her. Although I've so far never been faced with any sort of violence in a male only space, let's not pretend that my presense in a male only space is somehow LESS dangerous for me, than how dangerous the presense of ONE male in a space with a whole group of women, would be for those women. Statistically and realistically, I'm at a far greater risk than they are, and no, I do not have any more choice in the matter than they do.

Thus, this kinda skewed idea of safety and choice, becomes a question of ethics, I think.

Furthermore, I'm a person of principles, and it wouldn't sit right with me that if males should never under any circumstances be allowed in female spaces, but females could be allowed in male spaces. I refuse to be a hypocrit on purpose! No, if males should never under any circumstances be allowed in female spaces, then females should also never under any circumstances be allowed in male spaces. OR, if females CAN under some special circumstances be allowed into male spaces, then males should be allowed the same in female spaces. Both of these solutions pose serious problems, which I keep seeing being brushed under the carpet a lot, and that annoys me.

But if we go with the first idea, of barring people from using opposite sex spaces altogether, then where the fuck do I pee? Should I utilise my "right" to use female spaces, despite making everyone uncomfortable and feeling threatened by my presense, as well as risking being kicked out and forced to use the equivalent male spaces anyway, which is exactly what that idea is meant to prevent - or should I completely avoid being in places which I know does not have a gender neutral bathroom, such as the ferry? Would that not be discrimination? Which is the most reasonable option here, what is the most practical, what's wrong and what's right? Do I even have a RIGHT to use female bathrooms, and if so, how do I prove it, considering my ID still says I'm male?

Trans men aren't gonna be nearly as willing to use female only spaces, and trans women definitely not eager to use male only spaces. But aside from that validation factor, I have the exact same struggle as trans people do on this particular point. Quite often they do toss and turn at which bloody bathroom to pick, not just out of validation, but because they genuinely struggle to figure out which one is the best option for them practically. Especially if they don't quite pass as either sex, and most and foremost just wanna do their business without unneccesary drama.

Also, to clarify: barring trans people from opposite sex spaces is NOT discrimination, as they never belonged there to begin with - but leaving them with no other option than to pee themselves, is. Which means that I think it's fucked up to barr them from those spaces BEFORE having solved the problem of "if they can't go there, then where?"

Perhaps I'm the only one around here who cares about males' integrity, safety and human rights. But even if so, I should not be the only one to care about gnc females' integrity, safety and rights. Male-passing females, whether transitioned or not, whether bearded or not, are still female, and if we don't want them in female only spaces, and not in male only spaces either; why? Because they "chose" to medically transition and/or dress in men's clothing?

Yeah, well, in most cases of transitioned females, they transitioned because of dysphoria, which no one chooses to have. It's a medical condition. Barring people from spaces they'd otherwise be welcomed into, due to the visual outcome of the treatment of their medical condition... is ableism. Barring a woman from a female only space she belongs in, solely because her unusual physical appearance freaks you out... is ableism. Also, simply being gnc and being viscerally uncomfortable with presenting femininely is also not a choice. And even if it was... shouldn't it be? That's why I cannot roll with that sorta solution. I dunno if it counts as a form of discrimination by definition, but it just smells a lot like it from where I sit. That it's no more right to toss me out of, or give me trouble, in a women's bathroom, than a masculine women who also passes as male but who has not medically transitioned.

That said, however, women's safety DOES matter a lot to me. Hence my reluctance to join their spaces, despite being a woman myself. I guess, what I'd want is complete sex segregation to work in my favour, but I can't promote a rule that would discriminate against me. I'm sorry, I just can't. I desire FUNCTIONAL sex segregated spaces, but realistically they cannot function. Truth is that the only womens spaces I've been allowed into since I began passing as male, are "trans inclusionary" ones that openly allow in trans women, ironically. I care about the safety of other women, and their right to have their own spaces... but not at the expense of my own rights, as a fellow woman. To say otherwise would be a crime against myself. I really wish this could be solved in some way that would work in practice, but honestly I don't think it can anytime soon. Not without some seriously tried and proven, practical and humane methods to check what sex people entering single sex spaces actually are.

That is the reality that people have to face. And personally I'd rather focus on women's rights than trans rights, but as a woman who's medically transitioning, I'd shoot my own foot no matter which one I'd choose. That's quite a dilemma.

So where my opinion stands on this right now, is basically this: I think female only spaces should only be for biological women, but I'm reluctantly okay-ish with males who pass as female utilising female only spaces, and vice versa for females in male only spaces. However, this does not feel ideal at all. It's a compromise. Ideally, I want such spaces to be entirely sex segregated, and for even people who pass as the opposite sex (like myself) to be allowed into spaces of their biological sex. My appeal here is both realistic practicality with the reality that some people really do pass as the opposite sex, as well as the safety, rights and integrity of male-passing women.

#female only spaces #gnc women #yes some trans people pass #but not only trans people pass #radical feminism #gender critical #ok to rb #my opinions and concerns

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vinylhazza · 5 years

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Timid Touching (E.D)

Summary: After a particularly rough day at work, y/n stumbles upon her bestfriend naked and tugging one out on the couch, he woos her into staying to enjoy the fun and maybe do something she never has before.

Word Count: 6.2k

Warning: just dirty ass smut

Dedication: @dolandolll thank you for being you! love you bubs xoxo

It was unexpected on such an annoying and brutal day of relentless complaining at work, spilling hot coffee all over her shirt, and getting stuck in endless traffic that she would walk in and she was she is seeing now.

She was pulling up to the house in a cursing rage, so fed up with the blabbering dumbfucks at her work that she wanted nothing more than to take a bath, put on a facemask, watch a movie, and go to sleep to start the weekend off right. It was an added bonus that she recently moved in with her two bestfriends Ethan and Grayson - after months and months of begging from both twins and the promise of smiles and amazing avocado toast daily.

It had been a dream so far, getting to wake up with relaxing vibes and getting to hang out with the men that made her the happiest (one already having her heart but she does her best to ignore that in fear of rejection). It’s your sappy teen movie, a bestfriend swooning over someone that she presumes sees her as only that: a friend.

She shook the thoughts from her head when she slammed the door to her car, making sure she heard the beep indicating it was in fact locked before she began to stomp up to the front door with her bag slung across her front. She had parked right behind Ethan’s Jeep, noticing for a split second that Grayson’s car was nowhere to be found. It was odd for the time of evening that it was, the sun sinking below the horizon, leaving California in a cool windy evening that was about to get even more interesting, even if she wasn't aware.

She wasn’t too concerned about Grayson being gone, simply a bit nervous that she would be left alone with Ethan for God knows how long, with his infectious beautiful smile and his sinfully sexy body that drove her insane. It was just a bad night for her to be both pissed off and horny and swooning over her bestfriend.

She huffs out an irritated breath when the keypad clicks the lock open and she swings the door wide with her hand, stepping into the dark entryway of the house and setting her purse onto the hook at the right side of her head. Grayson had kindly installed it for her convenience, laughing every time she would have to set it on the “dirty” floor. Out of the kindness of his heart he caved and ended his fun by giving her a hook to make her life easier. She liked being able to just grab it on her way out the door, and he knew that.

Y/n noticed Ethan’s shoes placed neatly on the mat, meaning he was relaxing somewhere and not planning on leaving.

“E?” she called out through the house, not loud enough to be considered a yell, just louder than her normal speaking voice. But nothing came after. Only the reverberation of her voice against the walls.

She nudged her shoes off her own feet, setting them next to her bestfriends, speaking once more in hopes he was actually close by and was just too distracted to answer, “work was absolute shit.” But still no answer followed.

She had been too caught up in her thoughts to actually notice the flashing of the tv coming from down the hall and the peculiar noise bouncing from the walls and to her curious ears. Her eyebrows are furrowed down into a pout as she shuffles down the hallway to the living room, her plan to pester Ethan about ignoring her for the TV cut short when she enters the spacious room.

You know what they say: curiosity killed the kitty. And she was pretty sure she was going to die of a heart attack when she entered the room - stopping dead in her tracks.

She realizes quickly what the sounds were, widening her eyes at the TV on a stand that Grayson built, bright as can be in the dim living room, a clip of two girls touching each other flashing across the screen while they moaned loudly into each others mouths. She nearly faints at the sight, so shocked what she thought was an innocent movie was actually lesbian porn.

“Y/n,” Ethan says casually, startling her just enough that her eyes are ripped from the TV to land right on his bare body on the couch, dick slapped hard against his stomach, leaking precum, “why so sad? work a little rough today?”

His voice is light and silky, a couple octaves lower than normal, making it even more difficult for her to look him in the eye.

Was he seriously trying to have a normal conversation right now? Was he teasing her? Was he mocking her for catching him in such a...interesting situation?

Her mouth is dry as sandpaper at this point, stuttering out a quick “yeah” sheepishly, not really sure where she should be looking, at Ethan? At the TV? The ground? So she settles for her bare feet, suddenly very interested in her purple nail polish covering them and the ankle bracelet that hangs around the ankle with a little turtle charm. She starts to wish she had stayed a little longer at work, not knowing in the slightest how to navigate this predicament she found herself in.

She’s seen both of the twins naked before yeah, on accident with each one of them. She wasn’t used to having to knock, so there had been a few times where she found herself walking in on one of them changing - quickly squeaking out an apology and slamming the door closed. But she’d never seen them with a hard on or anything remotely close, not that she could tell at least. This was completely out of the blue for her.

“Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to not look at someone when they’re talking to you bubs?” His teasing voice cuts through the thickening air. He says it like he wasn't just vigorously jerking off only moments ago, like he isn’t sitting butt ass naked in front of his bestfriend watching two girls eat each other’s pussies sloppily.

She knows he’s challenging her to look. So look she does, shooting her head up from her feet to land right on his hazel eyes that stare back at her. She makes a mental note to not let her eyes wander anywhere else on his body, especially not down to where her eyes had been glued when she first walked into the room. That’s for sure a sight she won’t forget.

She decides that instead of standing there with her blushing cheeks and twiddling thumbs embarrassing herself, she was going to politely exit the room and just pretend like this never happened. Even though she would never be able to get the image of his massive leaking cock out of her mind even if she tried to. He was fucking gorgeous and she couldn’t deny it.

Yeah of course she wanted to fuck the shit out of him, she’s always wanted to, but now that she’s standing here totally off guard and caught watching him red handed she is embarrassed beyond belief. She always imagined that if they did take that step in their relationship it would be more...romantic and not dirty and sudden after a shitty day at work.

“I think I’m just gonna go take a bath-” She turns her back to the room, fully prepared to sprint down the hall if she had to, not wanting to embarrass herself any longer. She wanted to sink into a hot bath, ease her stress and sleep this horrendous day off. And she hoped to God he didn't bring this up again. But before she can walk back down the hallway Ethan’ talking again in that fucking tone that has her insides stirring.

“Sweet innocent little Y/n scared of a little porn huh?” he grins at her, quirking a dark defined eyebrow. Little shit knew he was getting to her.

“Not scared,” she mutters, “I just don't watch it that’s all.” She’s embarrassed to even be having this conversation with him. She wishes for a moment that the floor would just open up beneath her and swallow her whole to save her from having to answer anymore of his questions.

“Bullshit. Everyone does. How else do you get that little pussy of yours to cum the fastest?” he continues on, staring her down intensely. She couldn't believe how easily he was talking about her the way that he was and saying all of the things he was saying. He’d never been as open as he was being right now. Sure he flirted with her all the time, but he had never used that kind of language with her. I guess now was as good a time as ever to shoot his shot.

“I don't Ethan,” it's not an answer he’s expecting obviously because his eyes widen and his mouth open some more in mock horror, a shocked little scoff escaping his lips.

“No? You’re telling me you don't rub that little cunt in the middle of the night when you get all hot and bothered?” his presses on.

“Yep pretty much what I’m saying,” she mumbles out.

Please dear fuck Ethan let it go and let me take my damn bath, she pleaded to the heavens, her head falling back to stare at the ceiling with a sigh. She must be dreaming because there is no way in heaven or hell that Ethan Dolan, her best friend, was sitting her saying things to her right now. It seems the moans coming from the speakers only get louder to her ears.

It’s almost as if the small flame she had in her stomach when she was with him was spreading because she started to feel heat shoot from her middle and down all the way to her toes. She played it off as being anxious but she noticed that her panties were starting to get a bit wet. Rubbing her thighs together is what she settled on until she could take her bath and forget that this night happened unless he brought it up again.

“Look I’m just gonna go so you can finish whatever you need to,” she tries to dismiss herself once again, twisting on her heel to exit the room and let him get back to watching the two pretty brunettes on the screen scissor each other senseless. As she takes a step she’s stopped once again.

“Wimpass,” Ethan mutters slyly, deliberately looking away when she turns to stare at him with a raised eyebrow. Did he just call her a wimp? For what reason?

“E-excuse me?” she squeaks, not believing this is real life. She swears to God she must be asleep on her bed or something because Ethan would never be this bold in front of her. Or would he?

“You’re a wimpass,” he says once again, more clear. A sneaky little smile makes its way to his face, eyebrow still raised as the girls switch positions, one on top one on bottom while one sucks on the others pussy and fingers her at the same time. Her heart is pounding at this point.

“I’m not a wimp Ethan stop,” her cheeks are on fire because she knows he’s going to challenge her once more.

“If you don’t stay you're a wimpass,” he reiterates. He knows she hates to be bullied into something, but at this point he’s so eager and hungry to see her finally get herself off next to him he’s sputtering out whatever dirty thing he can to get her to stay.

He would always call her a wimp when she was scared of something, usually causing her to shoot him a glare and prove him wrong. He hopes this is the same. And with the scrunch of her eyebrows and firm line on her lips he can tell he got to her in the way he wanted.

“We aren't 4 Ethan,” she huffs out a shaky breath, frustrated that she looks so flustered in front of him. She always wanted to look sort of confident and strong for him, thought he liked that. But she has no clue that her cluelessness is making him want to bust a load untouched on their couch.

She stands still, fingers playing with the end of her shirt and tries hard to ignore the moans filling the room.

“Oh I know that, we are actually adults,” he pauses, looking at her with that same smirk, “so if you don’t stay I guess that means you’re a 4 year old wimpass right?”

He opens his arms in a challenging manner, daring her to take the bait and stay.

So with a heavy sigh and several scorching glares thrown in Ethan’s direction, she timidly makes her way over to the couch just a few steps away, her heart already thumping dangerously fast in her chest. She sits on the opposite side of him, trying not to look, keeping her eyes on the wall in front of her. She doesn’t know why she actually chose to stay because Ethan would never force her into something she didn’t want to do and they both know that. He might tease and mock her but it’s ultimately her decision.

“I’m not a wimp. And I’m only staying for a bit, my bath is calling my name. And I’m not touching myself so get that out of your head right now,” she’s talking fast and stern, not wanting to be interrupted. She decided she was only going to stay for 5 minutes...that’s long enough right? It’s long enough to her and that’s all she cares about.

Her cheeks are on fire when he starts to scooch his naked body across the couch and sit uncomfortably close to her considering all the empty space. Was there something wrong with his previous spot? No. Did he want her to see exactly what he was doing up close and personal? Yes.

“Suit yourself,” he sing songs to her with a dazzling smile, pausing the porn on the screen with the TV remote in between their bodies. It looked so natural and easy with him, his relaxed body that looked so content and comfortable doing this in front of her. It had her mind racing and her eyes following his every move hoping he wouldn't notice, “here let’s change this to something that,” he glances to her stiff frame, “you might enjoy,” he ends with a smirk - dropping a wink.

He flicks and scrolls through many titles, all ending in “XXX” , sending a shiver running down her spine. He finally lands on a video of a muscular man with many tattoos and a pretty brunette. The scene starts with the two in a bedroom, already naked and on the king sized bed, the mans lips trailing over her dewy skin. It started off slowly, just simple kissing and some whimpers here and there, nothing she hadn’t seen before. She wonders for a minute why he would pick something so vanilla, but she is mistaken when the scene speeds up.

Ethan palming and stroking his own dick catches her attention from the corner of her curious eyes. His own are fixed on the two on the screen as the anticipation grows. Her eyes widen and her legs cross over themselves when the tattooed mans lips travel down to the woman’s pussy, smacking loudly against her skin. Her cheeks are flushing crimson at the sight of his tongue flicking to collect her juices.

I’m not getting turned on, I’m not getting turned on, I’m not getting turned on she repeats to herself, trying to stop the already wet pooling that’s happening in her white lace panties. But it was so hard with Ethan’s fit body, knowing he’s sitting next to her stroking his massive dick, knowing he wanted her to stay, and the moans and actions from the two pornstars on the screen. This can’t be happening. She can’t get horny in front of her bestfriend. But that’s easier said than done when the mans lips finally latch onto the woman’s clit, swirling his tongue down to her entrance and back up, repeating the action over and over with labored breathing. She gulped hard, trying to keep herself in check.

The man proceeds to full on tongue fuck the girl, his tongue flicking inside her cunt over and over again, mouth fully resting on her. Jaw slack and sloshing against her folds.

She squeezes her legs together when she feels the warmth, thinking it was innocent enough that Ethan wouldn’t notice the small action. She hoped he was too focused on getting himself off to notice she was even there. She hoped.

“I see that yeknow,” Ethan comments casually, hand wrapped snug around his dick but not moving. Fuck. She was caught.

“See what...” her face is burning with embarrassment, hating this with everything she had in her. How does one get themselves in this kind of situation?

“I see you squeezing your thighs together, but I promise if you give up this little act and rub that pretty pussy of yours it’ll feel much better.”

He begins to move his hand up and down again, slowly stroking his aching cock in front of her, rubbing his thumb over the tip and jerking a little at how good it feels. He really can’t believe his own luck that she walked in right as he was just starting to think of her face he wishes he could fuck. There she came, stumbling in on him with those rosy cheeks and fidgeting fingers, so pretty.

But she’d never gotten herself off before, her posh mother always telling her it was shameful and taboo. So no matter how horny she got, she just wouldn’t let herself fix the situation. Of course she’d had sex before. Had it been great? No. Had it been what she’d expected? Nope. Was it only for the guys benefit and that’s it? Yep. It was the description of her sex life, her needs were tossed to the side and she was left hanging. She just figured that’s how things worked. That’s why she always excused herself when it came to sexual conversations with twins, she didn’t want to be awkward when they asked her questions and seem like she was an inexperienced snob.

But Ethan was making it seem so...normal, to touch yourself and like it. She was actually naïve enough to think that it wasn’t something everyone did? Fuck he wanted nothing more than the ram himself into that hot body sitting next to him. With that thought alone he grips himself harder to tug and tug and tug, throwing his head back some and looking at her through his eyelashes discretely.

She sees him watching her, but tries to keep her eyes on the TV, noticing how hard his breathing had become when he ran his fingers up and down his length repeatedly. She’s just staring at him jerking off now, eyes soft and curious. She’s immediately clenching around nothing, just wondering and daydreaming about what he would feel like up inside of her. His smirk grows when he eyes her watching his hand on himself, “like what you see mama?”

“No shut up,” she mumbles, shaking her head and looking away ashamed. She switches her attention back to the girl on the screen, moaning and writing against the bed at the mans touch. The man has now entered the girl, gripping her hips tightly. He’s ramming into her with an unbelievable force, face red and determined. Her mouth is in a large O shape, eyes squeezed shut, entire body jolting forward with every harsh thrust into her pussy. She couldn’t help but imagine Ethan doing the same to her, absolutely wrecking her with speed and uncontrollable moans and grunts. She couldn’t help but imagine his eyes looking at her like he hates her, but showing her much different. Shit she wanted it. Bad.

She nearly jumps off the dark grey couch when her legs are ripped apart and opened wide by none other than Ethan. He has stopped stroking himself completely to reach for her hand and place it right over the crotch of her pants, feeling how hot she was beneath and loving it.

“Fucking rub already Y/n,” his tone his dominant and frustrated, clearly done with watching her suffer in her own head right next to him and doing nothing to help relieve the built up pressure in her stomach. She stares at him, shocked and frozen. She wasn't expecting that at all, more shocked at the electric flare she felt in her entire body when he had her hand in his own. She’s never been this worked up over anyone in her entire life and she almost blanks on what to do.

“You are obviously sexually frustrated. I can feel it so fucking much and it’s driving me crazy so rub.” His stare is near cold, wanting to fix your situation himself but waiting for the right moment.

It’s in this moment that she gets a strange feeling to make him...proud? And prove to him she’s not a total inexperienced prude that’s useless. She wants to say something anything in return but he’s already looked away from her and continued to rub himself like nothing happened. It takes her about three seconds to obey his order and turn back to watch the screen and start to gently rub herself over her pants. This continues for a few moments, slowly increasing the pressure until it finally becomes too much and she starts to wiggle next to him, needing something more than a little touching over fabric.

With a shaky breath she makes a bold move and slips her hand inside her pants, beginning to rub herself over her underwear, the lace causing extra friction. She lets out a quiet whimper at her movements, slipping the underwear aside to rub against her clit in slow motions, finally deciding to dip a finger inside. But that’s where she gets stuck, finger just resting inside of her and not moving. She’s never done this before so how was she supposed to know? She hears a chuckle next to her and turns her head to the side to see her best friend gazing at her with dark eyes, “stuck kitten?” amused and not even bothering to hide it. This is the hottest shit he’s ever seen.

All of these pet names are driving her mad, slipping out so easily that she doesn't even question it. Kitten had really done her in, cheeks set ablaze while she mutters a soft “I don’t...” not even getting to finish her sentence when he lets out a sigh, yanking her onto his lap and tugging her pants and underwear off quickly. It was so fast she didn’t even have a chance to think or react to what he was doing, just resting against him with wide eyes and a hammering heart. She thinks about just getting up and walking out because she’s mortifyingly turned on and she knows he can feel it right now considering her soaked cunt is sitting right against his tattooed thigh. He smirks at the yelp she lets out when he places his warm palm right on her pussy, rubbing it up and down between her folds, agonizingly slow. His fingers are warm from being wrapped around himself for a good period of time, feeling like fire against her.

“Relax baby I promise it will feel good,” he whispers huskily in her ear, sucking her lobe for a second only to kiss at her neck a second after. Baby. Fuck she’s gonna die. She wants him to call her that always. She’d gladly be his baby.

“Keep those pretty eyes on the screen,” he urges, noticing with a rapid heartrate that she had been looking down at his hand that rubbed against her. He adds more pressure to her clit, circling it and pressing on it in figure eight motions to get her wiggling on him again. Feeling her sliding against his fingers is almost too much to handle.

“Look at how he’s pumping in and out of her,” his voice sends waves of electric arousal crashing through her all at once, “think of all of that pressure...all that pleasure.” His touch is gentle and his voice is quiet, speaking right into her ear, eyes latched onto the side of her face to notice her every expression, notice every quiver of her lip and eyeroll. Loved that it was all because of him.

She is overwhelmed, moaning and squirming on his lap. She could feel his dick pressed into her back and felt unholy at the thoughts that were racing through her head about the man she never thought she had a chance with. It’s all so mind boggling. Her eyes threaten to flutter shut, body falling back further to rest fully against his chest, but she keeps them open, keeps watching the man ram himself into the petite girl underneath him. She’s already come twice in the video and that alone has her walls clenching around nothing, seeing all of the pleasure and receiving pleasure all at once. And then she finally hears that beautiful moan from the beautiful man she secretly adores and it’s all because her legs are shaking and vibrating lightly from the fire threatening to rip through her.

“You are unreal mama,” he rasps when his dick twitches again the smooth skin of her back, “you have no idea how sexy this is...touching you like this,” he pauses to kiss her neck once more and suck a love bite into the skin, “while we watch these strangers fuck each other senseless...looks fun doesn’t it baby? Does that look fun?” He pinches her clit lightly, rolling it between his fingers for a moment and grinning at the response she gives him. For someone so seemingly shy and innocent she is more responsive than he thought. He feels high on her, getting everything he can get until he can’t stand it anymore. He almost cums untouched when he sees her answer his question with a nod.

When he pinches her clit again, her hand shoots down to rest against his own, sensitive and not expecting such a feeling just from him pinching her down there. With the previous boys there had never been any of this foreplay, but just using her as a hole and ditching her.

“My sensitive girl,” he hums with a proud smile, smacking her hand away and moving his fingers down to circle at your entrance, dipping a finger in and then shortly adding another, moaning, “fuck you’re dripping,” he breathes out. She grabs his hand once more when he curls his fingers in her up to that spot that has her seeing stars.

“That feels so good e,” she whines, finally becoming more vocal. It had him humming into her neck with a nod, he knows what he’s doing to her - but it’s still nice to hear from her. She has both hands down holding the top of his that fucks into her, adding that extra pressure herself. It gives her some sense of control and lets him know that she’s loving it and she wants him to keep going.

“Can you play with those beautiful tits for me baby?” never stopping his movements with his fingers, he just wants her to feel as good as she possibly can, plus wants to see her pleasing herself, “just play with your nipples...wanna see you play with yourself,” he continues, fully expecting her to shrink into him with heated cheeks. But she merely raises her shirt above her head and un clips her bra to squeeze and massage her breasts together, following his order and squeezing on her own nipples, rolling and pinching them. She lets out the loudest moan yet when he rubs over the side of her leg lovingly, still fingering her to the heavens. It was such a...soft touch that had her turning to look at him, noticing how close she was to his lips and if she really wanted to she could lean in to kiss him. She’s simply observing the way his eyes watch her, dark and beautiful just skimming over her glorious body like he adores her...which he does. He wishes she knew.

But then she decides to be bold, taking her hands away from her body to cup his scruffy cheeks, eyes flicking up to meet hers before she plants a kiss right upon his mouth. His breath hitches in his throat at the feeling he’s longed to feel for so long. Her hands are cradling his face, kissing him with a passionate force, sighing when he finally starts to kiss her back with the same urgency. Of course they are being intimate right now, but somehow this has a different meaning to both of them - they put all of their feelings and thoughts into this kiss, floating on clouds together.

“I’d like to fuck you like that,” he breathes when they break apart to catch their breath. His fingers dip into her faster and harder than before, trying to convince her. Little does he know she doesn’t need convincing, “you want that mama? Wanna feel me all up in your guts? Fuck I’d ruin this little pussy..” She’s watching the man on the screen plunge his dick into the woman aggressively, the moans echoing around the living room.

“Tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you, anything for you kitten,” and you can tell he means it, turning her head to plant another soft kiss on her lips.

“E-ethan do something - I need more” breath being knocked from her chest as the pleasure increased.

“What do you want?” he urges. When he doesn’t get any other answer other than a whiny “please” he rams his fingers into her harder than ever, making her cry out. “Fucking answer me Y/n or I’ll stop,” he threatens.

“Fuck me please e,” she moans out, grinding into his hand, hips swiveling against him.

“Beg for it,” he growls, just waiting for the word so he can flip her on her back to slam himself into her tight fuckhole, he just knows it’s worth the wait.

“Please Ethan fuck me please I promise I’ll be good please just wanna be good for you please!” Oh my God he wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t expecting it to have such an effect on her, but she’s totally gone, euphoria fueling her.

That’s it. That’s all he needed to tug her off of his lap and slam her onto the couch, hovering over her, admiring the way her hair fans out like a halo...beautiful, breathtaking, ethereal, ravishing, lovely...fuck he’s really whipped. It’s like he’s seeing her in a new light, like he has refused to accept the feelings he’s always had and now that she’s here he wants to. It almost makes him panic that the way she’s grinning up at him right now is making his heart flip and flutter. But he merely takes a deep breath before leaning down and kissing her again slowly, nibbling on her bottom lip.

“You’re about to feel so fucking good baby,” he is so damn cocky and it makes her even more soaked if that’s possible. He rubs his reddened tip between her slick folds before entering the tip into her, even with just the tip in he can feel how tight she really is. He can tell it's been a while, and that makes it feel all the more special.

When he sinks further into her he leans down to rest his head against her chest, overwhelmed.

“Thought you were an angel, turns out you're a dirty little slut,” he whispers when he takes one of her nipples between his lips. On the word “slut” he bottoms out, balls deep inside of his babygirl. He promises that after this things will change between them, he has to make her his officially. But right in this moment his top priority is getting her to cum the hardest she ever has (judging by the fact she’s only cum once before it shouldn’t be too hard but he doesn’t know that).

Her fingertips push against the curve of his back, pulling him closer to her. She can feel him pulsing inside of her, so so deep. With every thrust, every push and pull her boobs are bouncing against his chest. He raises himself on one steady arm, muscles bulging, looking like fucking work of art above her while he continues to speed up, slamming into her over and over again, one hand squeezing her hip. She knows she’s probably going to be sore after this but she doesn't mind. It will just be a reminder of this amazing moment that she hopes will happen again.

“Faster yes yes yes just like that right there keep - fuuuuu” her voice is hoarse at this point, moaning loud and occasionally screaming out when he hits a spot so deep she thinks she might pass out. She can’t believe all of his length could actually fit inside of her. None of the men she’s ever been with have been this big. He has every right to have that cocky look he’s giving her.

“So pretty kitten gonna make me cum,” he groans while looking down to where he disappears inside her, plunging deeper and deeper. Her legs are shaking once more, warm ball growing in her tummy, threatening to explode at any moment if he keeps thrusting so hard and fast. He’s panting, red in the face, light blanket of sweat covering his sun-kissed skin.

“Wait wait I can’t- fuck it’s too - ohhhh” she’s threatening to let go, grinding her hips up to meet his thrusts, fucking herself up on him. Such a dirty girl in disguise.

He gritted his teeth, feeling it coming like a freight train.

“Cum for me e, come on give me that cum,” she whispers seductively in his ear, rubbing a manicured fingernail down the side of his neck, twirling a little piece of hair in the back. That did it for him.

He lets go at the same time she does, screaming her name and stilling in her to spill all that he has into her pussy, grinding slowly to milk himself dry, spurts of warm thick cum seeping out of him and into her cunt that just keeps quivering around him. Wave after wave of pleasure washes through them both, the unexpected situation making everything even more arousing. She’s so warm he almost doesn’t want to move. He likes the feeling of being buried inside of her. She obviously feels the same way by the look on her face because she is reaching up and tugging him down, hugging him while he peppers sweet tender kisses into her neck, nails scratching over his back. His chest rises and falls at a steady pace now, so tired after their previous actions that sleep threatens to take over.

He doesn’t think he’s every came that hard in his life, and he was happy about the fucked out look on Y/n’s face, and her limp body. He did his job well.

His beautiful hazel eyes are fluttering closed, eyelashes tickling her neck. He loves this feeling and never wants to let it go.

“Thank you,” she whispers to him shakily, legs entangled with his on the soft plush couch.

She knows they should move to the bedroom in case Grayson comes home, but she is so unbelievably comfortable right now and the feeling of him loving on her feels so good she can’t bring it in herself to force him to move his exhausted body across the house.

“For what sweetness?” he mumbles with a mumbled voice, making a dreamy smile appear on her face.

“For helping me...” she’s shy and he can tell, but he’s never letting her go after this. He will make it his personal goal to make her feel as beautiful as he knows and sees that she is. She feels like something has changed between them, something has finally been unlocked, like it was just a matter of time before they ended up together.

“Anything for my girl,” he assures her with another peck to her skin, meaning it with his entire person, “let’s get some sleep and maybe we can...take a shower yeah? If you don’t want to it’s okay I just think maybe the modesty thing between us is practically diminished but if you’re not comfo-” he blabbers on in his sleepy voice, anxiousness creeping in.

“That sounds great e, quit your blubbering and go to sleep,” she assures him, kissing the top of his head and receiving a chuckle in response. Her nails still scratch at his scalp, lazily trailing through his hair. She’s still not fully convinced it’s real, but prays when she wakes up he’s still going to be smushing her with his heavy ass body. She knows she won’t be sleeping in her own bed, she’s already addicted to the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

They don’t realize it in this moment, but this is the start of an incredible journey that they both deserve, and to think all it took was a little bit of timid touching.

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syntheticpoetry · 4 years

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Constellations

Summary: When the text comes in from Tina, Kurt can hardly believe what he is reading. When Blaine doesn't respond to his messages he thinks his heart may actually stop beating. AO3 link || FFN Link

Author’s Note: I was watching Shooting Star and overcome with a million emotions, mostly having to do with the fact that we don't get ANY conversation or scene with the NYC gang during this insanely emotional episode. So this is my take on it. A little bit of canon, but a little divergence for the Klaine scene I desperately wanted to see as well as Kurt, Santana, and Rachel’s reactions. I promise there is a happy ending in this through the rollercoaster of emotions that is Blaine's mind during this absolutely horrifying ordeal. Big thanks to @roxymusicandlayers for beta reading this for me!

“And I am lost, so lost, but you’re the constellations that guide me.”

_________________________________________________________

“Alright guys, start texting and tweeting, whatever social media you use. Let everyone know what’s going on here. But don’t say where we are, shooters have smartphones too.”

Blaine hears Mr. Schue’s urgent whisper as though he is underwater. The words sound muffled and heavy with the depth of the room’s collective terror embedded into every upturned syllable. Despite his best effort to keep the hysteria at bay, they know he is just as frightened as they are. Blaine bites his lip and remains so still that every muscle starts to quiver, threatening to give way. The burn feels familiar, like the ache he gets from lifting weights in the gym with Sam, and he pushes through the pain as though it is just one more rep away before they can finally rest.

Any slight movement will betray his feigned composure and he knows the domino effect of his breakdown will begin. Around him the gentle, frantic padding of fingers against glass echoes around the room like a discordant symphony of additional gunshots. He knows they are not as loud as they actually sound in his head. But the panic in his chest still swells. He hugs his knees tighter. The small movement is enough to send the first wave of tears down his cheeks. He bites his lip harder and tries to focus on the pain of teeth against flesh instead.

‘I should do what they’re doing. Pick up your phone. Keep it together.’

“Blaine, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay,” Sam reaches a hand out and the touch of his fingers against Blaine’s forearm sends thunderbolts up his spine. “Where’s your phone?”

Blaine opens his mouth to speak and instead gasps loudly, the breath shuddering on the sharp intake of air. He claps a hand over his mouth and squints his eyes shut as more tears come. His mistake was moving at all. Statues never cry. He stretches out one leg and wrenches the phone from his pocket to see it at 1% battery. With one hand pressed firmly against quivering lips, the muffled whisper comes convulsing out in staccato bursts. “It’s— it’s almost— d-d—”

He can’t bring himself to say the word dead. As though breathing life into it will somehow fulfill some unspoken prophecy, and he is bound to doom them all by simply uttering it. Sam squeezes his arm and whispers back, “Do you want to text anyone with my phone?”

Blaine nods frantically when his phone screen finally turns to black. He gingerly places it on the ground in what feels like slow motion, taking extreme care not to make a sound, and extends his hand out to Sam. He thinks back to Mr. Schue’s garbled words and wonders if they really are underwater.

“I can’t get in touch with my mom,” The subdued sound of Marley’s panicked sobbing ricochets off of the walls. “She won’t respond! What if she— there’s no back way out of the kitchen!”

While Kitty and Jacob whisper empty reassurances Blaine stares at Sam’s phone in his hand like it is a foreign object. He knows what he is supposed to do with it, but the phone numbers in his mind are written in invisible ink.

‘I can’t even remember my parents’ phone numbers. Oh god, what if we die in here. What if I never see them or Cooper or Kurt—”

A flash of hands clasped tight, buried deep into a mattress fills his vision. The breathy whisper of his own name makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His trembling thumbs begin to fly seamlessly over the keypad and he has never been so thankful for autocorrect before. Just as he hits send the dull pounding sound of running footsteps in the hall crescendos until—

Rattle! Rattle! Rattle!

The jittering of the door handle makes them all collectively jump as though this is just another lesson in synchronisation for their next competition. Blaine’s heart slithers its way into his throat, and he drops the phone. It slides away from him and bumps into Sam’s ankle. Sam’s leg jerks and sends it careening across the floor of the choir room where it settles underneath the piano. The entire scene is something straight out of a shitty comedy movie that feels completely unbelievable, like the chances of something like this happening are one in a million. The irony of the realm of impossibilies reaching its peak today is not lost on him. The entire room stills. Blaine wishes that stupid ticking of the metronome in the center of the room would. Just. Stop. It feels like a countdown.

Smash!

Blaine jumps again and presses his hand harder to his mouth to suppress the sound that begs for escape. He hugs his knees closer to his chest in a one-armed embrace and tries to will the demon perched on his shoulder whispering unpleasantries to vanish. The burn settles in again. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Artie struggling to sit himself up against the cabinets. He wants to move, wants to help him; but when he tries to unhook his arm from his knees, nothing happens. He continues spectating as Sam begins lifting Artie up by his shirt until he’s sitting comfortably upright. Then he witnesses the moment of pure panic in his best friend’s eyes right before Sam hisses frantically to Mr. Schue, “Brittany doesn’t have her phone, she’s in the bathroom! She’s all alone!”

___________________________________________________

“Oh honey, no goddamn way!” Kurt snatches the remote back from Rachel. “Santana and I were here first, you don’t just get to come in and throw a hissy fit about having a bad day so you can put on whatever you want. How do you know we didn’t have a bad day too?”

Santana averts her attention from the television to watch them instead, positively beaming. Their fights are honestly her favourite thing to watch. Always far more entertaining than whatever trashy reality shows she and Kurt had been immersing themselves in lately. Today it had been a marathon of the first season of Rock of Love.

“Well, considering you’re both in the exact same spot I left you in this morning I seriously doubt it,” Rachel huffs loudly and sinks down into a creaky wicker chair, arms folded tightly across her chest. Kurt rolls his eyes at her and changes the channel back before the gentle buzzing of his phone across the coffee table distracts him from Rachel’s moodiness.

“Go make some popcorn and I’ll let you vent— oh,” Kurt stares down at his phone.

“What?” Rachel lowers her arms, keeping them folded across her stomach still, and exchanges her scowl for curiosity.

“Sam texted me, he usually never…” The rest of his sentence trails off once he opens the message, leaving them to stare. He loosens his grip and drops his hands against his thighs, the phone resting precariously on his open palms. After the fourth quick scan of the text the message still does not seem to sink in.

Sam 12:36 p.m. I love you so much and I’m so sorry about everything that happened I’m so glad I got to see you at the wedding you’re amazing and deserve everything in the world I’m so proud of you don’t ever settle for anyone less than perfect because that’s exactly what you are

‘This can’t be for me.’

“Kurt, what is it? What’s wrong?” Rachel leans over, her palms on her knees now, her brows furrowed in concern.

“What’s Trouty mouth saying?” Santana snatches the phone from him. He does not even protest her invasion of privacy, his brain is too busy slicing through the fog to decrypt the reasoning behind the message. She frowns and looks between the screen and Kurt a few times. “Did I miss the part when you and Sam got together? No way my gaydar is that far off.”

“There’s no way that’s for me. He obviously meant to send it to someone else. Do you think he meant it for Mercedes?” Kurt plucks the phone back from her hands to reread the message before typing out a reply.

Kurt 12:44 p.m. I don’t think you meant this for me?

“What did it say?” Rachel pipes up and cranes her neck to try to read over Kurt’s shoulder. Kurt tilts the phone to show her. “Ooooh, wait did something happen between them at the wedding? Wasn’t he there with Brittany then though?” Kurt shrugs and scrolls through his contacts until he lands on Mercedes’ name.

Kurt 12:50 p.m. Okay maybe random question but is there something going on with you and Sam again? I got the weirdest message from him just now

Mercedes 12:55 p.m. ???? What did he say?

Kurt takes a screenshot of the message and forwards it to her.

Mercedes 1:00 p.m. Omg nope nothing happened with us at the wedding. Maybe he meant to send it to Brittany? Has he not replied?

Kurt 1:02 p.m. Nope

Tina’s name flashes across the top of his screen in a drop down banner and he taps on it. “Oh my god.” The words come out small and frightened as he reads the message. “Tina just said—”

“She just texted me too,” Santana replies in an eerily despondent voice that Kurt has never heard her speak in before. It suddenly makes the situation feel ten times more real. For once, she’s silent as she stares down at her own phone, frantically typing out a text.

“Me too,” Rachel whispers. “Oh my god, do you think everyone is okay?” She stands and crosses the room, pacing by the window as she rereads the text over and over again. “Kurt, have you heard from Blaine?”

‘Blaine.’

Kurt cannot find the words to respond to her as he taps on his favourites list. Blaine’s name is still at the very top. He had told himself he had never gotten the chance to adjust the list and remove him after their breakup. Really, he never had the heart to erase his name. The sight of it now makes his throat constrict. He tries to speak but no sound comes out.

“Brittany isn’t texting me back. Neither is Sam,” Santana borders on hysterical as she grips her phone between her hands like it is her only lifeline. Kurt mimics her action as he composes a text to Blaine.

Kurt 1:10 p.m. Tina texted me are you ok

“Has anyone heard anything from anyone else?” Rachel asks. Neither of them respond.

Kurt cannot look away from Blaine’s name. The feeling washes over him suddenly and intensely, dragging his logical mind into the riptide of superstitious terror as he recites the name silently like a mantra. If he looks away, he might lose him forever. It doesn’t make any sense to think that way. He knows it. But it provides some tiny semblance of comfort and control as he tethers himself to it and waits for a response. Two long minutes pass by and still nothing comes. Tina’s name and phone number fills the screen, swallowing Blaine’s name, and he finally finds his voice, the words frantic and choppy as he taps multiple times to decline the call, “Someone call Tina, she’s calling me. Someone call her so she stops calling me!”

The sight of Blaine’s name again anchors him down once more and the rest becomes background noise.

'Please be okay. Please be okay. I’m never saying goodbye to you, you idiot. Just text me back. Please.’

__________________________________________________________

“Mr. Schue, I have to get to her! I have to make sure she’s okay!”

Blaine watches, horrorstuck, as Mr. Shue and coach Beiste struggle to restrain Sam. He is thrashing wildly in their arms, his quivering voice crescendoing past the panicked whispers that everyone else has adapted. It isn’t until coach Beiste whispers something in his ear that Blaine cannot hear, and Sam locks eyes with him that he finally settles down. Blaine exhales sharply, lungs blazing and heart thudding at the base of his throat, and realizes he must have been holding his breath at some point. Sam slinks back over to their corner and sits beside Artie, his head hanging down in defeat. Blaine tries to parrot back the same empty promises Sam had whispered earlier, wants to tell him everything will be okay even though he is not quite sure if he believes it himself, but nothing comes out.

“Maybe she’s with Tina,” Artie whispers hopefully to Sam. “Maybe she isn’t alone.”

Blaine takes note of Artie’s lack of confidence and how he is careful not to speak in absolutes. But maybe he is right. He thinks about the word maybe in the context of his life. Maybe Kurt did not want to admit how much their hookup at the wedding had meant. Maybe he and Kurt really are back together. Maybe Kurt still loves him. Maybe he will see him again when this entire ordeal is finally over with. ‘Maybe’ starts to feel like a pretty good word the more he thinks about it. ‘Maybe’ feels like hope. ‘Maybe’ feels like a second chance.

The sound of a door opening breaks through Blaine’s inner dissection of the word, and he looks over just in time to see Mr. Schue skulking out of the door. It reminds Blaine of one of Finn’s video games about spies and stealth. Maybe they will get another chance to play it together after this. He clings to that and tries to focus on the upcoming Friday night dinner with him, Burt and Carole as Marley’s sobbing continues to grow louder. Her gasps for air further enforces his previous belief. Maybe they really are underwater.

It isn’t long before the choir room door opens again and a collection of cheerleaders rushes in followed by Mr. Schue. Blaine watches Sam vault off of the cabinets like a spring loaded toy to pull Brittany into his arms. She has never looked so terrified before. But there is no sign of Tina amongst the red and white uniforms. Blaine forgets about the maybe’s floating around his brain like buoys at sea and feels like he is drowning again. He twists his head away and stares down pathetically at the blank screen of his cellphone, willing it to magically come alive.

‘How could I have forgotten to charge it? I used to lecture Kurt about this all the time.’

Maybe it is a sign. Maybe it is a metaphor of sorts.

He does not know when Artie began recording them with his phone, but the start of Marley’s hiccuped confession fills his lungs with water again. “In the bottom of my desk drawer,” She breaks off to compose herself. The volume of her crying sends off alarm bells in Blaine’s head and he tunes out the rest of her message. He looks towards the hastily strewn barricade against the door. Maybe it will prove to be sturdy, but it does not feel like enough. The continued tapping of fingers against glass screens fills in the gaps of silence between the metronome and scattered crying when Artie pans the camera onto Blaine. It feels like a slow dance towards a death sentence. Maybe the rhythmic ticking really is a countdown.

“Blaine, do you want to say anything to anyone?”

He drops his face down into his knees. Maybe he should take the opportunity to leave behind one tiny fragment of his life before he becomes another forgotten statistic. But Artie has already redirected the phone towards Sam and Brittany when Blaine looks up again. Maybe he has missed his chance. ‘Maybe’ starts to feel like a cursed word now. Like something sinister and evil and concrete. Maybe he has inflated the word with too much hope causing some sort of rebound effect. Maybe—

“All clear!”

The words break through the hurricane in the choir room and suddenly everyone is getting to their feet except Blaine, who still feels sluggish and dazed. Sam and Brittany approach him and hold out their hands. He stares at their open palms, trembling and sweaty, and his body acts before his brain does to grasp them. They lift him up like he is made of helium despite the lead shackles he envisions around his ankles. He becomes aware of Sam’s arms around him and shakes away the anchors in his own arms to return the embrace. The burn is still there, leaving his muscles fatigued and weak, but he cannot bring himself to let go now that he has latched on.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. See? We’re okay,” Sam whispers against his ear before Blaine realizes why he is taking such extra care to console him. The sound of his own sobbing, punctuated by rattling intakes of air, reminds him why he tried to remain so still at the start of all of this. He buries his face deep in Sam’s neck to muffle the sound and feels the addition of Brittany’s slender arms around both of them, leaving him sandwiched in between. The shuffling sound of footsteps towards the door leads to the eventual end of the embrace and Sam jogs over to the piano, crouching down to retrieve his phone before they join hands and follow everyone else on the way to the parking lot.

“Blaine, I have a charger in my car.” Sam says as he raises his phone to his ear. Brittany slips her hand away from Blaine and he hears her whimpering Santana’s name before seeing she has also pulled out her phone. Blaine laces his fingers with Sam and clings tightly as they weave their way through the crowd towards Sam’s car. “Mom, hey I’m okay. We’re okay. We’re outside now— please don’t cry, I promise I’m okay.”

When Sam finally pulls his hand free, Blaine thinks he might just float away. It takes Sam only a few seconds to wrench open the car door and jam his key into the ignition. “Blaine, here— Wait, Kurt’s calling my phone. Mom, let me take this, and I’ll call you right back? Blaine’s phone died, he has no way to— yes, I’ll be right home as soon as I can. I love you too.”

Blaine’s fingers are numb by the time Sam has pressed the phone into his hand. Kurt’s frantic, breathless voice breathes life into them, and he curls them tightly around the device just before it is about to fall. “Sam! Brittany called Santana and said you guys made it out. I can’t get in touch with Blaine, is he—”

“It’s me,” Blaine exhales and the volume of Kurt’s sob makes his knees shake. He leans against the car door but slides down it as Kurt continues to cry loudly in his ear.

“Why weren’t you answering me?” Kurt sputters out, his voice traversing the length of his entire vocal range like a warmup.

“My phone died, that’s why I texted you with Sam’s—”

“You didn’t say it was you!” Kurt’s voice rises three octaves. Blaine presses the phone closer to his ear like it will actually close any of the distance between them. “I thought it was a mistake! I thought it was Sam! Why didn’t either of you get back to me on— Blaine, are you crying or laughing?”

“Both, I think,” Blaine responds airily between watery laughter. In the timespan of less than two hours he feels as though he has mastered every element associated with human emotion. The fire in his lungs has been reduced to embers as Kurt’s voice continues to blanket him. The laughter should feel inappropriate, but it feels like letting go. It feels like a release. He finally feels grounded. “The stupid phone— it was insane— I dropped it and Sam kicked it under the piano— if you saw it— I’m sorry, I don’t know why I can’t stop laughing, but it just feels so good to hear your voice again. I thought I was never going to hear it again or see you or—”

“Don’t you ever, ever, write a message to me like that again!” Kurt interrupts his rambling and suddenly the laughter becomes lodged in his throat. Maybe he had been wrong to assume all of those ideas about them earlier. Maybe Kurt’s next few words will feel like an actual gunshot wound.

“Kurt, I’m sorry, I thought—”

“I told you I’m never saying goodbye to you,” Kurt parades through his apology, trying to sound bold and certain. Blaine can see the hairline cracks in the foundation as Kurt wavers through the next command. “Don’t you ever try to say goodbye to me like that again, do you understand me?”

“Understood,” He replies with the remnants of his previous laughter, the solitary sound coming out strangled and relieved all at once. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

“You’re sorry you—” The way he says it sends shivers down Blaine’s spine. It is the same breathy exhale that had been reserved for their night in the hotel as their hands sank deeper and deeper into the mattress. “Blaine, you must have been fucking terrified, how can you focus on me?”

“Because I love you,” Blaine says simply. For once there is no anxiety or fear to cage the confession. It flies freely over the soundwaves and he does not worry about the reply because he already knows the response without Kurt having to say it. But Kurt says it anyways.

“I love you too.”

‘Maybe’ starts to feel like a second chance again. ‘Maybe’ feels like a promise.

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plus-size-reader · 5 years

Text

All Dolled Up

Carl Grimes x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1555 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Playing around with Jessie's makeup and shocking Carl when he sees you wearing it for the first time

———————————————————————————————————

Carl had never seen you all dolled up.

Prior to moving to Alexandria, you had never had a chance to dress up. Hell, you were sixteen years old and you'd never worn a shred of makeup.

It just wasn't something you'd ever even thought about.

You were curious.

It was something that you didn't have any experience with, but you wanted to learn.

...So naturally, you went to the one person that you figured you could find the answer to all your questions.

Jessie.

The only problem was that you didn't want to ask her about it due to the embarrassment. It was a stupid thing to worry about...all things considered.

Instead of checking with her like a normal person, you just went to her closet.

The whole situation was rightfully sketchy, you knew that. However, you were desperate to figure everything out.

Your mother had died long before she could teach you about all of this...And you were on your own.

The stash that Jessie kept in her closet was a small one but it was still more makeup than you had ever seen. It was more than enough for what you needed it for.

The entire spread was overwhelming to you but luckily, before you could in too deep, Jessie intervened.

"I'm so sorry" you repeated, over and over again. You were embarrassed, terrified that she would be angry. After all, you were standing in her home, unannounced and uninvited.

However, Jessie wasn't upset with you.

Instead, she smiled.

In the way that you didn't have a mother, Jessie had never had a daughter. She hadn't been given an opportunity to help shape a young woman's life-and she wanted to.

You deserved that.

"You like that stuff? It was just a little bit I kept after everything" she shrugged, She didn't really have a use for it anymore.

There weren't really a ton of occasions for red lipstick around here after all.

"I've never seen so much makeup" you laughed, hiding your embarrassment with a giggle. You were just so nervous but you knew that Jessie wasn't upset with you, she wasn't angry or anything like that.

In fact, before long, you were sitting across from her.

She wanted to teach you all about the makeup she had and how to wear it. When she was your age, she had so much fun playing in the different colors and powders. It was only right that she share that joy with you.

"This is eyeshadow, it goes right here" she grinned, swiping the color over your closed lid.

It was an odd sensation, but you were so excited that nothing else even mattered. The whole process was a long one, from all the eyeshadows Jessie had to every single lipstick.

Your eyes were wide as you let your fingers glide over all the tubes, each one a different color.

It was crazy.

"I have to ask, why wouldn't you just come to me? I would have loved to teach you" she assured, speaking as she searched for her blush compact.

It was a fair question, especially since you had snuck into her home. There had to be a reason you didn't just ask her. Jessie just hoped that you weren't afraid of her. If anything, she wanted to be someone you could rely on.

You shrugged at first, thinking over her words.

Asking her help for something so unimportant seemed stupid. Of all the things you could be focused on, makeup shouldn't have even made the list.

It didn't help the community in any way.

"I guess I just thought you'd have better things to do" you hummed, after thinking for a second. It was the truth but it made Jessie upset to hear.

You were so focused on surviving that anything remotely normal filled you with shame.

It wasn't right.

You, and all the other kids should have been allowed to be kids-apocalypse or not. "Nonsense, I'll always make time to help you-with anything" she smiled, dusting a fair amount of blush on your face with a fluffy brush.

All you could do at first was smile back, thinking over what she had said.

Your group had recently joined Alexandria and you hadn't really bonded with them quite yet. However, Jessie had just changed that. You two were relatively strangers but that didn't matter. All that mattered was that she had helped you and you really appreciated it.

It had been a really long time since you bonded with someone like this and you enjoyed it.

You enjoyed it so much that you forgot about having lunch with Carl.

It had become a bit of a tradition since moving into the community. Carl would pack a few things in his bag then you two would have lunch outside the walls. It was something you enjoyed, something you wanted to do, every moment or every day.

You relied on seeing Carl to keep you sane, but thinking about seeing him right now made you panic.

Not only had you never worn makeup but Carl had never seen you wearing makeup.

You had no idea how he was going to react but you knew you had to go. Jessie helped you finish up your lipstick and then sent you on your way.

Your footsteps were heavy as you made your way over to the Grimes household. There was something bright and brand new today that made you feel good. You had never felt this confident and happy-at least not in recent memory.

Now all you had to do was see how Carl would react.

...which was the scariest thing in the entire world.

You could deal with the dead, and all the evils that other survivors brought. You were never scared of any of that, but Carl's rejection was different.

Carl was your favorite person in the world, the man that you loved. So naturally, the idea that he could hate anything you liked filled you with anxiety.

You couldn't imagine what you would do if he hated it.

By the time you made it to his house, Carl was waiting for you on the steps, just sitting there. He knew that you would come, but it was odd that you were late.

You were never late.

“Is everything-” he started, worried that you had run into some kind of trouble that made you late. However, before he could finish his sentence, you were close enough for him to see the paint all over you.

That was certainly brand new.

“Hi” you smiled, closing the space between the two of you. You could tell that he wasn’t sure what to say. Makeup had never really been a huge part of Carl’s life anyway-even before.

Lori never really wore much of it but after all this time, he had pretty much forgotten that it existed.

It wasn’t really something either of you were used to.

“Do you like it?” you hummed, after a few seconds of just standing in silence. You weren’t sure if he hated it or what but if you had to just keep staring at him like this, you were going to go insane.

You were sure of that.

“Jesse helped me, I just wanted to try it” you shrugged, thinking that maybe making an excuse would lessen the blow if he hated it.

You never thought you’d get a chance to get all dolled up like this. When the opportunity presented itself, you ran with it. The worst that could happen was you needed to scrub it off.

That was all it would take.

Honestly, the more you stood here waiting for his opinion, you wanted to run away more and more. You couldn’t shake the feeling that Carl was going to send you away.

He had always thought you were beautiful just as you were, but what if he didn’t like this version as much as you did?

Luckily though, before you could completely rip yourself apart with teen angst and nerves, Carl spoke. “You look really pretty”

It was honest, and real if you’d ever heard it.

As soon as he said it, the stress you were feeling melted away. It was as if a fifty pound weight had been lifted off your shoulders and you couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on your face.

“You really think so? You like it?” you grinned, happy that he felt that way.

All he could do was nod before an idea popped into your head. Without missing a beat, you closed the space between the two of you, a huge grin spread over your face-from ear to ear.

“You wanna know what else?” you hummed, your face only half an inch or so from his. There was mischief shining in your eyes and you clearly had something on your mind.

You only ever got that look on your face when you were really riled up about something.

“I can do this” you sing-songed, peppering his face with big smooches, leaving red prints in their wake. You were pretty proud of yourself for putting the pieces together and Carl couldn’t help but laugh.

It was clear that getting this off was gonna be a bitch but he didn’t care. Right now, all he cared about was letting you have your fun.

#Carl grimes #carl grimes x plus size reader #carl grimes x ps reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes imagine #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x plus size reader #the walking dead x ps reader #twd #twd x reader #twd x ps reader #twd x plus size reader

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fieryfantasybooklover · 4 years

Text

Cast In Shadow And Blood - A Clace fanfic

Consider this a sign that I am, in fact, alive.

Taggs: @lily-chen-deserves-better @blackthorn-trash @mithriel-of-mithlond @brotherhalal-ariahs @julieandthefandoms @themostawesomehuman @zfoxdraws @hands-dripping-ink @insane---chaos @rainbow-sheepofthefamily @girlwhohatesstuff @tessagraycarstairs @imherongraystairstrash

Note - Clary and Jace are the main characters here, the others are just mentioned.

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Clary settled down into bed, sparing only one glance for the descending curtain of night that was chasing away the sun. Snow fell softly outside, silencing the world in a blanket of white. She turned to Jace, who had settled into bed beside her a moment before. “Good to see you here.” she said, grinning. “I was thinking you’d somehow managed to murder yourself using kitchen utensils, but thankfully you do seem to still be alive.” Jace grinned, handing her the bowl of snacks he’d gathered on his snack run. “You know me. I love to keep people guessing. You would know that most of all.” he said, chuckling. Clary, laughing, punched him playfully in the shoulder before leaning back onto the pillows. Jace grabbed the remote, settling in beside her. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Clary asked Jace, in that way where nobody could be sure if she was being serious. “I survived a literal hell dimension, I think I’ll be ok with some horror movies.” Jace replied, turning on the TV they had installed in front of their bed.

The next few hours speed by in a rush of buttery popcorn and melted chocolate and a myriad of scary movies. Some featured the paranormal or supernatural, others much more real fears like insanity and serial killers. By the time the clock struck 2 pm, they had watched enough scary movies for a lifetime and, though neither would admit it, were feeling quite on edge and jumpy. As the credits rolled for The Ring, Jace turned to Clary and exhaled deeply, letting all his nerves out. “Wow.” they said simultaneously, laughing in pure relief everything was right in the world. “I’m gonna go put everything away.” said Jace, standing, stretching, and grabbing the empty bowls. “Alright you do that. I’ll get everything ready for bed.” Clary replied, already flicking off the television and pulling the blinds shut. Jace returned within a few minutes, hands empty and tiredness gathering behind his eyes. It wasn’t long before both were settled under the covers with the lights off, facing each other and breathing evenly. “I love you, dork.” Clary said affectionately to Jace, kissing him. “I love you too.” he replied, hugging her close.

They fell asleep like that, happy and together and content that everything they had just seen was firmly within the realm of fiction.

Clary’s eyes fluttered open, making their way to the alarm clock. It read 3:05 am. Groaning, Clary slid out of bed and stood, making her way to the bathroom in the complete and utter black. It took her only a few moments to gather her surroundings and realize that something was very very wrong. What she saw gazing out the window was her first clue. There was absolutely no sign of life outside the Institute. No cars, or shop windows, or even a few people staggering their way home late. The snow was still steadily falling, blanketing every single surface. The pitch blackness of this time of morning covered the landscape, twisting and contorting it into something completely unrecognizable. By light, Clary could have navigated those streets with her eyes closed. But by dark, all her pleasant memories of the spot were gone and nothing could be seen or gleaned from the area. Put simply, the darkness hid things. And this darkness in particular seemed… dangerous. Parasitic. Permeated only by the faint glow of street lamps. And that light was certainly not enough to reveal anything the darkness could have been concealing.

The second clue that something was wrong was the silence. Outside the Institute and inside. Outside, the snow was silent as the grave and there were no night sounds. No animals, sounds of farawar life, or even the crackling of electric lighting. Inside, it was just as quiet. None of the sounds that were usually associated with a building so huge and old. The floorboards didn’t creak, no faint sounds echoed through the halls. The silence was eerie, and more than a little unnerving. By now, Clary had reached the bathroom and was quietly using the restroom and washing her hands. The splash of the water seemed deafening compared to the lack of sound. Darting out of the room and back to their bedroom, Clary realized the final factor in why everything felt so wrong.

The air. It was strangely... heavy. Somehow forceful, as if something was compressing it down. The air slunk around the halls, and Clary could not shake the feeling that not only was it weighing on her, but something was watching her. Trying to shake the feeling of unease, Clary slid back into bed beside Jace, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep. This attempt did not last long, and soon Clary popped her eyes open again. She quickly looked at Jace. He was still sound asleep. She sighed, flopping backward. “What I wouldn’t give to just be able to fall asleep and stay that way.” Clary thought, exasperated. It was just then that something shattered downstairs in the Institute. Clary sat bolt upright, eyes wide and heart pounding. Fear ran through every inch of Clary’s body. Pure, bone chilling fear that made her feel like she was disintegrating. Shook to her bones, Clary wrapped her arms around herself and tried to calm her shivering. “You’re just being irrational.” She told herself. “Maybe I left a window open and the wind knocked something over.” she rationalized, still shaking from head to toe. If the wind was the cause, you would’ve heard it from outside, a voice at the back of Clary’s mind whispered.

A chill descended on her then. Something so cold and gripping that it was like one thousand icy wolves howling to the wind before ripping you to shreds. Clary felt an icicle slip down her back and she launched to her feet, unsure of what to do. She felt her lips turning blue and her skin paling under the duress of the chill. Something thin and skeletal whipped through the room then, cloaked in a raggedy, torn robe. The terrifying sight of it burned itself into Clary’s eyelids. It was so quick and quiet that she could have convinced herself she was imaging it, except for the fact that the blinds were now thrown open and the window was cracked. Neither had been that way a split second before. Clary turned to Jace, shaking his shoulder and hissing his name repeatedly. “Jace! Come on Jace, wake up! I think there’s something here!” but he wouldn’t wake, and it seemed he was permanently stuck to the bed, Atleast, until he shifted and his neck snapped at an angle no human could survive. His face shifted to face hers. And that was when Clary screamed.

There was a painfully large grin on Jace’s face. His lips were stretched back from his teeth, and his face seemed to glow with an unholy light. He was unusually pale, as if all the color had been soaked from him. His eyes shone far too bright with something close to madness. All Clary knew for sure in that moment was that whatever was in front of her was not her Jace. Beyond that, she didn’t know. It must have read the question on her face, because it opened its mouth and hissed out something that was infinitely not human. Clary frantically searched her index of language knowledge for a translation, but found nothing. “See you soon.” it whispered, smile stretching wider. “You have summoned me with visages of horror, and now you must pay the price.” Jace’s body collapsed onto the bed. Within moments he was stirring, and Clary was frantically at his side. “Jace? Jace! Are you ok? How do you feel?” Jace pulled himself upright, rubbing his eyes and looking around confusedly. “What’s happening?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep. “Please just trust me. We have to go now .” Clary whispered, pulling Jace to his feet. He read the frantic nature of her voice and instantly snapped to alert.

The pair began running out the bedroom and down the hall. Jace knew little of the situation, but still flew through his brain for allies to call for help. “Simon and Isabelle? No, they’re on vacation in the countryside. Magnus and Alec? Fuck, they’re investigating a situation in Cincinatti there’s no way they’ll make it back on time.” as his list of allies ran dry, fear began to sink its claws into Jace. They were still running down the halls of the Institute, desperately trying to make their way to the doors. However, one blink of time and it was all over. Screams of anguish rang in both Jace and Clary’s ears, reaching a pitch so high both bent over in pain. There were brief flashes of blood, painting the floor, walls, and ceiling red. The entire building began to shake, as if something was gnawing away at the foundations. Wraithlike forms began to appear, empty eye sockets somehow still managing to glimmer with malice. Jace and Clary were desperate now, dodging the foes while still scrambling for the door. Then, one popped into existence right in front of them. They skidded to a halt, trying to turn around but it was too late.

The being reached one of its hands right through Clary’s heart and the other hand right through Jace’s. Suddenly, they were back in their bedroom, standing beside the bed. The room was cast in shadow and blood, faint rays of light revealing the room to be a horrible parody of its former self. Both Jace and Clary tried to move, but found instantly they were frozen and rendered completely immobile. They barely had time to exchange one glance that said so much before the specter appeared before them, reaching into their hearts again. And then, it twisted. Pain. Pain that made every past grievance seem like a paper cut in comparison. Blinding white pain, like a thousand explosions in one form. The pain of bones cracking and twisting and shattering into five million glass sharp shards. The pain of loneliness, of longing so deeply for someone to be by your side that you turned into a ghost yourself. The pain of helplessness, of being unable to move or cry out or scream or do anything as your death approached. So many shades of pain, twisted neatly up and forced right down into Jace and Clary’s souls.

The terrible finality hit them then. They were going to die. And nobody could save them. Eeking out a few moments of clarity, Jace and Clary turned their gazes to the other. “I love you.” the gazes said. “I love you, and I will love you from now until the moment time ends.”

And then, everything faded to silent, deep, nothingness.

Clary sat up in bed, sweat beading down her neck and terror whining in her head. Jace was safe asleep beside her, breathing softly and calmly. The alarm clock, the sole source of light in the room, read 3:03.

A scream built its way through Clary’s mind and body, working its way slowly up through her throat.

A voice slithered into her head, ominous and inescapable.

I am coming

#clace #clary fairchild #jace herondale #malec #sizzy #shadowhunters #tsc #fanfiction #megans writing #magnus bane #alec lightwood #simon lewis #isabelle lightwood

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khadijatries · 4 years

Text

The End And Beginning- Ateez Fanfic

(Seonghwa x Y/N (Bibi))

(SONG REC: I’M SORRY- THE ROSE)

Bibi was hoping it would feel different when she saw his face. She’d hoped she flushed him out of her system by now.

The Earth continued to spin. The stars they had watched together still glowed impossibly through the universe, just as they did then. She wanted to tell them to shut up. To beg them to disappear already because they were dead anyway. Why couldn’t they go quietly.

Or maybe it was her feelings she was talking to. Because as she stood in the middle of the carpark, with her hands trembling from cold or emotion, tucked into her pockets, she felt like he was the answer. As though if she didn’t run to him right then, she would die.

She tilted her head, hoping that maybe the different angle would provide new perspective on how she felt. That perhaps she was overreacting, and this situation was not all she felt like it was.

Nope. Still handsome. Still painful.

She wondered whether seeing him sitting alone on the speaker box, without the guitar he fine tuned before every performance, looking like more of a wreck than her, should have made her felt better.

Huffing out an ironic laugh, she concluded that she would have felt the same if he’d been sitting with all of his fangirls and laughing raucously, completely happy and satisfied.

Sniffing away her tears, she reached out to him with glassy eyes and pretended to grab his tiny figure and put him in her pocket. She’ll keep this feeling, to remember the ache.

A deep breath, a slow eyelid shutter, a pivot on her heels.

She wouldn’t stay. Neither of them deserved that.

But when the car door closed in a sort of finality she didn’t expect, her flood gates didn’t hold, and Bibi found herself sobbing into the image of her love, isolated from the world because of what they had done.

And yet, all they had done, was fall in love and hope.

Seonghwa knew she was there.

He stayed impossibly still, his heart violently hammering inside his chest, sweat dripping down his brow from the effort it took not to get up and just go to her. Even if she didn’t accept it, he wanted to get on his knees and say, ‘I’m sorry’, and ‘Don’t go’.

None of it would’ve made a difference since she’d made up her mind. They both did. He’d been part of that decision. It was never okay though.

Not when the idea occurred to him. Not when he voiced his opinion to his best friend. Not when he told Bibi. Not when she’d agreed. Not when he walked away. Not when she didn’t answer his calls after his regret.

At every turn his mind, body and soul screamed NO. WRONG. STOP.

He looked down at his phone, at the picture of her eating ramyeon in the middle of the night outside her apartment. He called her that day to tell her that he would never let her go, even if she wanted to leave she couldn’t. She laughed and said she’d never want to. That was months ago.

His grip tightened as the 2 minutes he expected her to stand in the crowd to attain her closure extended into 10 minutes. 15…

Once the clock his 8 30, he would go to her.

But at 8 27, she turned on her heel and Seonghwa couldn’t help but leap after her, frantically searching for her car as the crowd grew thicker, and the concert began.

It didn’t take long to spot it, and her, with dark hair all that was in view as she shook and banged her head against the hooter.

Seonghwa’s heart crumbled, and he did fall to his knees, clutching his chest, muttering apologies, telling her not to go, and desperately swallowing back all his despair.

This distance and separation, besides being unusual for them, was too cruel. But Seonghwa promised that his desire to never let her go would never fade, and that ultimately he would be by her side again.

(SONG RED: ABYSS- JIN BTS)

The birds were talking again. Their incessant chirping was infuriating today, especially since they were talking about her.

“Ah, the poor thing. She hasn’t moved an inch since yesterday.” Bird 1 said, watching her pitifully from its daily perch in front of her window. “I hope she finished the research she was busy with.”

“As if.” Bird 2 scoffed, studying her dishevelled clothes, and unwashed hair. “Is she even still breathing? She hasn’t blinked since we got here.”

Bibi blinked to reassure the birds and slumped deeper onto her desk.

“Poor thing. This must be her first time.”

“What do you mean ‘must be’? It shows that it is.”

“Be nice! She’s going through a lot right now.”

“YEAH BE NICE!” Bibi suddenly got up from her chair, the exhaustion finally getting to her, influencing her degree of delusion.

Just then, the bedroom door shut, and she swivelled around in shock to see her mother standing quietly at the door like she was the one being caught in an insane rage.

“Good morning.” She said sheepishly, approaching Bibi slowly, so as not to startle her already shaken child.

Bibi slumped back into her chair. “What’s good about it?”

Her mother sat at the edge of her bed and studied her quietly. She was worried, of course. Bibi had deep bags beneath her usually clear eyes, and her decisiveness was missing.

“Its Monday.” Her mother said. “And I wanted to remind you that you have work today.”

“I’ll call in sick.”

Her mother nodded, trusting that Bibi had a handle on whatever it is that was happening. “I also wanted to tell you that, although I love having you at home, and your dad is over the moon that you’re staying, we’re both a lot better now, so if you wanted to go back to your apartment, we’d be okay with it.”

“I won’t go till dad is in the clear.” It wasn’t a lie, per say. It was the half truth that Bibi was using to convince herself that it was okay to hide here for a bit longer.

“Okay. But if you need to talk about anything I’m here.” She got up to leave hesitantly, hoping Bibi would open up today, after 3 days of staying couped up in her room, not even eating.

“Go to work, Mom, I’ll be fine.” She weakly convinced her mother. It was hard to believe it herself. Usually, she would at least put in an effort to make sure they wouldn’t worry about her, but that seemed like too much for her right then.

After a firm hug and kiss on the cheek her mom left. She waited to hear her car start and then flopped back into bed.

How did things that felt natural and easy just about a month ago feel like they could kill her to do them now. Smiling for her parents’ sake, even if she was completely exhausted or angry was never any effort. It killed her to think she couldn’t muster the will to care. Or even to bath, eat or sleep, let alone working.

Working….

She had a job. One she’d really wanted.

After a few minutes of staring blankly at her ceiling, Bibi gathered all the strength she had to get up, take a shower and get dressed into something remotely appropriate for work.

With a heavy sigh, and wondering just what the hell she thought she was doing, she packed her unfinished research and case files into her bag that felt unnecessarily weighted. She descended the steps in a daze, grabbing a muffin and sitting at the kitchen counter, still deciding whether or not she should be a menace to society by living.

It was easier said than done to focus her thoughts, when everything she saw, heard and smelled reminded her of him. He was everywhere, even without ever having been there. Even though he never sat at the kitchen counter at her parents’ house, he was somehow sitting across from her now with a very suggestive smile. The smile that got him anything he wanted.

“Go away.” she said aloud, wishing he were actually there.

She wasn’t sure if she would swipe everything off the counter and demand he kiss her, or have him in a headlock to choke the living breath out of him so that he would be really gone. Maybe he would haunt her then, and they could-

“Rude.” He said, tilting his head.

Bibi jumped back, off the stool, tripping on her way, but when she looked back up, he was gone. She frantically looked around the empty kitchen, and… on the other end of the counter was Kj.

She was busy picking at her own muffin, unphased that Bibi was having a heart attack.

“… When did you get here?”

“Do you want me to pretend you weren’t talking to yourself about ways to murder someone?” She lifted her brows in question.

Bibi was about to protest when she realised that was probably what she was doing. “Did… you hear anything else I was talking to myself about?”

“What? Making out?” Kj teased. “Not if you didn’t want me to.”

Bibi huffed out a half laugh, completely surprised herself. Kj paused, eyes wide and pointed at her in shock.

“Did you just… laugh?” Kj grabbed her shoulders and studied her face. “Ohmygod, thank goodness. I thought I would have to make friends in the real world and I wouldn’t because I’m completely incapable of human interaction!”

“And what am I?” Bibi protested, kind of feeling a sudden spike in her energy levels.

“Oh you think you’re considered human? After starving yourself for 3 days? After ignoring my calls? After making me wait outside your door all night? You’re a stone cold bitch, my friend.” Kj spoke frankly, not allowing any of the intense concern she felt for her friend to show.

“You were here? In the house?” Bibi didn’t think she was that far gone so as not to notice her presence.

Kj only nodded and stared. Bibi could tell there were many things beneath this façade she was attempting to put up, that Kj wanted to ask. That her mother avoided asking her.

“OKAY I CAN’T TAKE IT!” Kj burst after 2 whole seconds. “I might cry if you continue to give me this blank look.” She waved a hand in Bibi’s face. Let’s fix you.”

Bibi swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, because she too, couldn’t stand her own blank stare, the endless tears and the painful fatigue. “I don’t want to stay this way either.” She admitted.

“GOOD! But first you have to drive me to campus and get to work.” She declared, grabbing Bibi’s keys and heading to the car.

Instead of plugging in their usual playlist, Kj waited for Bibi to start the car and pull out onto the road, then asked, hoping she would let her in after all this time. “Want to tell me what happened now?”

“No.” Bibi replied instantly.

“And why not, Bibi?” Kj was sure to lose her patience today. She didn’t like to push, but she was already angry at the world for putting her best friend in this position to begin with.

“Because you would get unnecessarily angry and hurt for me, and one of us feeling shitty is quite enough.” Bibi justified, attempting to switch on the radio.

Kj switched it off immediately. “Are you dumb?” She looked at her blankly. “Do you just not want me to get mad and Seonghwa and beat his ass?”

Bibi would’ve thought it was joke, and it would have been in any other circumstance, but Kj’s tone wasn’t a joking one. Frankly, she was growing redder by the second, and if she didn’t calm down she would combust. And most probably Seonghwa would get the brunt of it since they were on the same campus, and Bibi couldn’t be there to prevent it.

“The only reason you wouldn’t tell me what was going on is if you thought I would try to do something about it.” Kj was right about that, to be fair. Why else would she not confide in the embodiment of confidante for her. “And that would mean that if you told me, and I did get angry, he did do something to get angry about.”

The longer she spoke about him, the more unstable and displaced Bibi felt.

“I didn’t even tell you anything and you’re on a warpath, trying to defend my honour.” She didn’t realise that she was going to shout, but she did, and soon, tears welled in her eyes. “He didn’t do anything wrong, Kj.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what happened?!” Kj shouted back, her throat also growing thick with held back grief.

“Because that’s my opinion! And yours might be different! Just leave him alone!”

“If you think my opinion would be different, maybe your opinion is wrong!”

Bibi pulled over at the entrance of the campus. “It’s over! That’s all you need to know.”

For the first time since they’d begun to shout at each other, the girls looked at each other. They were both dangerously on the brink of crying, brows crunched together and breathing heavily.

Bibi thought that if she continued to think about him, and remember him, she wouldn’t get through this day.

“I’m not angry that you don’t want to tell me what happened.” Kj confessed, still entirely too high strung to talk at a normal volume. “That’s fine. But I am angry that you’re not okay. I miss my friend and roommate. I miss you! I don’t give a shit about Seonghwa. I want you back!”

“Well I’m so sorry to disappoint you, Kj. I’m fucked up and broken, so teach yourself how to make new friends.”

Kj was taken aback and sprang back like she’d been burned. That hurt, but it brought her anger back to a simmering state as she clenched her teeth and nodded. “You’re hurting.” She said quietly. “But you need to let me help you get through it.”

“Go to campus and focus on your own life.” Bibi said, all too tired to continue listening. She didn’t even really know what words were being exchanged. Her head flopped against the steering wheel and when she looked up again, Kj was gone.

She hoped against hope that Kj didn’t make anyone bleed today.

(SONG REC: BANG CHAN- I DONT WANT TO ADMIT)

Seonghwa was standing by the tree for almost an hour now. At first he felt like he was incognito, ducking everytime he saw a silver car pull up, but now he just seemed like a creep, especially with more and more people arriving closer to class time.

He had to be early since he had a few details of a performance to iron out with his band mates, or at least that's what he told himself.

"Seonghwa, the level of stalker is increasing by the second." Wooyoung reminded him, for the 6th time that morning.

Seonghwa's face heated up in embarrassment taking in his position once again. He was only comforted by Hongjoong giving their younger friend a smack on the head with a textbook.

"Focus Wooyoung!" Hongjoong scolded Wooyoung, and continued to tutor him on the bench nearby. He, Seonghwa and Yeosang were the only members of their band who actually cared about their academics, but they always tried to 'encourage' and 'inspire' all of them.

By that it means it most probably involved a textbook beating, or cutting them off from practicing.

"How much longer are we waiting?" San asked from beside him, in plain view, casually leaning against the trunk.

"San! Get back! She'll obviously see you!" Seonghwa chided, and shoved San back to the bench.

"THERE SHE IS THERE SHE IS!" San pointed. Seonghwa whipped around, only to be disappointed at the youngers joke, accompanied by Wooyoungs laughter.

He cried out in frustration and was ready to beat them both up when he caught sight of her car himself.

At that point, he forgot everything. There was only her.

He didn't want to do anything but take 1 single look. That's all he could afford to take. He deserved nothing else.

He was taken out of his reverie when someone tapped him on the shoulder.

He didn't want to take his attention away form her but they were very persistent.

He turned around to find San worriedly pointing at a figure on the pathway, glaring right at him.

Ah. He should have expected this. He was busy thinking about what a big asshole he was.

Kj only stared, however, and continued her run toward campus.

"She does not look happy." Wooyoung quipped. "I would be careful of that one and her resources."

Yeosang wasn't the type to meddle in other people's relationships. But this band became more than 'other people' to him. He would help fix any of their shit in a heart beat. And that kind of scared him. But as he stood, and watched his hyung agonize over, frankly, a very precious gem of a human, a plan began to form in his mind.

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years

Text

Second Time Around Part 3

A/n: Elon Musk RPF. Smut warning.

Words: 3,199

Link to Part 2

Pairings: Elon Musk x Reader

______

Sunlight streaming into the bedroom was the first thing to wake Elon up. He didn’t move for a moment as the memories of the previous day filled his mind. Elon was almost afraid to look over at you. What if the whole thing was a dream and when he turned he would be in bed alone? That would be a soul crushing way to start the day off!

Taking a breath, Elon finally turned and was instantly relieved the moment that he saw you lying next to him. He smiled looking at your sleeping form. Even though your hair was ravaged from the night before, you were still the most beautiful thing that had ever been in his bed!

He was pleased with the knowledge that you were his again. There was no more second guessing whatever dumb decision that he may have made in the months past.

As they always seemed to do, however, the dark thoughts began to set in. Would you tire of sharing his bed in the future? What if someone younger came along who wouldn’t worry you with silence or distant looks? Elon would be crushed if that happened. He had almost fallen apart when he was away from you for six months! If it ended up being forever, he didn’t know how he would handle it.

Elon quickly lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Things had to be perfect this time! His sanity depended on it!

Meanwhile, your eyes fluttered open. You smiled seeing Elon still in bed beside you. There really wasn’t any doubt that, given the situation, Elon would stay in bed with you. It only took one look at your lover to know that he was brooding over something. You frowned, worried that he was regretting his decision in wanting to get back with you. Surely, that wasn’t it. Elon would have never gone through all of the trouble to send you the room full of flowers (you silently hoped that Jeffree was watering them for you) and spending all of that time “winning” you back. That was common sense. If Elon saw it as a waste of his time then whatever it was wouldn’t happen.

You took a deep breath before pouncing on him. Elon was clearly stunned by your action before smiling.

“I surrender.”

He said softly before pulling you down for a kiss. You sighed against his mouth happily before sitting back up.

“Are you worrying about us again?”

You asked. Elon shook his head. He knew that it was probably a bad idea to lie to you but at the same time he didn’t want to admit it. His eyes were on you with that intensity that made others uneasy. You slowly leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before sitting back up.

“You’re a bad liar.”

You said, putting enough pressure on his semi-hard erection. Elon groaned.

“I’m not lying.”

You rolled your eyes. He could deny all he wanted but you knew what was going through his mind. It was the same stuff that he worried about before. You slowly reached between your bodies and lifted enough to sink down onto his now fully formed erection. Elon muttered some curse words under his breath before looking back up at you.

“You’re going to be the death of me.”

You moved your hips enough for it to be more of a tease then relieving the pressure.

“I don’t hear you complaining. Seriously though Elon, I’m not Justine, Talulah or Amber. I am sure as hell not Claire! I am a totally different girl.”

Elon looked at you surprised by the comment. He hadn’t heard you say Claire’s name. From the time the two of you had become a couple until now, her name never left your lips.

“I know exactly who you are and who you are not.”

He managed to choke out as you leaned down. You stopped any movement that you were making. Elon’s eyes clenched closed as he fought the urge to flip you over and have his way with you. He wanted to feel your legs wrapped tightly around his waist. This early morning teasing was enough to drive any man insane.

“Then act like it.”

You cooed. Elon pressed his hips up into yours to slam into your cervix. He chuckled when you cried out.

“You’re mine. You naughty little vixen of a woman, you’re all mine.”

Elon moved quick enough where he was able to pull out and have you beside him on the bed. He turned your body so your back was against his chest.

“Now it's my turn to tease you.”

He lifted your leg and placed it over his leg so that you were open to whatever he wanted to do with you. You sighed as his right hand wrapped around your breast, cupping it greedily.

“I know that you are not any of those women. You’ve always been different. You see me for more than the dollar sign associated with my name. Y/n, you are perfect! I’ll always remember how beautiful that you looked the night we met. You were wearing that tight black dress. I could barely keep my hands off of you.”

You swallowed as Elon’s hand slid his hand down to your already wet core.

“Can you just have your way with me already?”

You said through clenched teeth. Elon laughed darkly and gave your pussy a little spank.

“Oh no, darling. You started this now I am going to take my time and finish it.”

His middle finger went between teasing your clit and opening.

“Tell me what you want.”

Elon said as he moved away from you enough to pull you into a teasing kiss. You panted against his mouth. Damn, the man knew how to be a shameless tease and was driving you nuts. You only thought that you were in charge a moment ago. This was the way that your relationship worked. There may have been a slight even exchange of power until Elon had enough and took over.

“I want you inside of me again.”

You said, trying to ignore the burning sensation in your stomach as his fingers continued to tease you to the point of a world shattering orgasm. He stopped when you were about to fall over the edge then would repeat the actions with a devil’s grin on his face.

Elon pulled away enough to take his place between your legs. You flung your head back into the pillow as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock.

“Please.”

You said, almost chanting. The moment that Elon pushed in, your body tightened immediately around his.

“Damn it.”

He muttered, having to freeze his motions or would finish too quickly. When he finally began to rock his hips into yours, you sighed happily. Elon reached down and took both of your hands in his and moved them over your head.

“So beautiful.”

He said in a soft whisper before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was hunger and borderline desperate. You were able to get your hands free enough to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Put your legs around me.”

Elon ordered. You quickly did as you were told and pulled him back into another kiss. If Elon had any kind of doubts about your feelings for him, you wanted to put that out of his mind. Maybe it was moving too fast but if he wanted you for the rest of forever then you were fine with that. Just maybe you could put the last six months out of your mind like a dark chapter that you kept locked in a storage locker (that only you had the key for).

“I love you.”

You moaned against his lips. Elon stopped and looked down at you before smiling.

“I love you, darling.”

The two of you spent the rest of the morning until Elon had to leave for a meeting cuddled together. You redressed after Elon left and went to meet Jeffree at the music studio. With the promise that Elon would come to you after he was done working, you felt a million times better about the romantic morning being cut short.

It definitely won’t be the last one.

Your mind supplied as you walked into the studio. Jeffree looked up from his place at the soundboard.

“Well, well, well look it lives.”

You giggled and rolled your eyes as you sat your bag down. Jeffree turned in his rolling chair with a snarky superior grin.

“So how did it go last night? Wait, let me guess...you spent most of your evening with your legs in the air.”

You rolled your eyes before sitting down beside your best friend.

“That’s a good observation. I also spent most of this morning in the same position.”

Jeffree grinned evilly.

“You dirty girl! I don’t see any love bites.”

You picked up the contract that Jeffree had been working on.

“You haven’t seen the rest of my body.”

Jeffree shook his head.

“Not my thing. So, now that we have gotten our giddy girl talk out of the way, you two are using something right?”

You snorted at that “mother like” expression on your best friend’s face.

“I am on the pill, Jeffree. I figured that you would want to play uncle to a baby one day.”

Jeffree nodded, taking a sip of his water. His mind went back to the expression on Elon’s face when he made the comment about not getting you pregnant. Something about that expression told Jeffree that rocket man was totally against the idea of even having a child with you. Jeffree sighed, hoping that this wasn’t going to be some big disaster one day.

In the 15+ years that he had been your best friend, Jeffree had never heard you talk about even remotely wanting a child. Any time that the subject of children came up, you always said a big “hell no.” Maybe Elon really was the one? If he had you even considering having a child for him there had to be something special.

“Yes! I do! One day...not nine months from now! Besides, we don’t want to give rocket man a heart attack. It would be kind of laughable though if you did get pregnant. The two of you get back together and he knocks you up during makeup sex.”

You sat looking at your friend with a scowl. If it had been anyone other than Jeffree, you would have thrown something at him.

“I don’t want to kill my boyfriend as soon as we get back together. Besides, I think he is fine in the child department. I’ll be fine playing step mom to his kids. I don’t have to have my own.”

Jeffree frowned and sat down. He knew immediately what was going through your mind.

“Y/n, you will be a great mother. Don’t let what your mother says or how she raised you think that you wouldn’t be. Lots of mother’s work. Yeah, we have a lot of shit going on and you are about to be a lot busier with the schedule that rocket man keeps but that’s what nannies are for. They can also come see uncle Jeffree and I’ll send them home full of sugar.”

You stood and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Thanks Jeffree.”

He smiled. At the moment, he deserved a best friend trophy.

“So, this guy that is coming in...what’s his story?”

You asked sitting back down across the table. Jeffree grinned and pulled out his laptop.

“He isn’t half bad. I heard him sing at a bar in downtown LA. Y/n, he is gorgeous!”

You rolled your eyes.

“And you have a boyfriend.”

Jeffree put a finger to his lips and made a loud “shhh” sound.

“I just said he was gorgeous and has a killer smile! I never said I was going to go love on him! Back to business before I go down a rabbit hole, I told him that if you said no then I say no.”

You shook your head.

“As long as he doesn’t suck then he may have a chance. We really need a new act.”

Jeffree looked over your shoulder as the door opened.

“Well, here he comes.”

You quickly stood and straightened out your dress as a man around your age stepped in. Right away, you could see why Jeffree was going “gaga” over the dude. He was definitely good looking. The young man had “Jeffree’s type” written all over him. He stood about 5’8 with deep brown eyes, a headful of golden blonde hair, and a smile that could light up a room. By all appearances, he could be exactly what your company was looking for!

Jeffree smiled,

“Hello again, Nick!”

Ah, so that’s his name. You were so deep into listening to Jeffree drool over the poor guy, you didn’t even catch his name! Nick nodded with a bright smile.

“Thanks for coming by! So, this is my business partner, Y/n Clapton.”

Nick turned his attention to you. He smiled warmly.

“It's an honor, ma’am! I’m a huge fan of your father’s music.”

You nodded politely. If you had a dollar for everytime someone told you how much they loved your father’s music; you would be sitting on a small gold mind.

“Thank you. I assume that Jeffree went over how our contracts work?”

Nick nodded.

“He did. Thanks for giving me a chance to wow you with my skills.”

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes. This was another one of those “here we go again” kind of moments. So far you were not impressed. Nick reminded you of one of the thousands of random people that would randomly start signing at you in the middle of nowhere hoping for a chance at a record contract.

Smirking, you remembered the first time it happened when you were on a date with Elon. He was totally baffled that people would randomly start singing to you in public. You chuckled remembering the expression on his face as you graciously thanked the person for their time and waited for them to walk away.

“Oh my god, is that normal?”

“Of course, you can sing any song. You have three minutes.”

You wanted to add a “may the odds be in your favor” but decided not to. It felt like you really needed some odds to be in your favor! You really needed some number one songs and a new act to promote.

Sitting down beside Jeffree, you glanced over at your friend and muttered

“Wow us with his skills? Really?”

Jeffree shrugged as Nick started his song. You sat only half listening until his talent really did catch your attention. Jeffree leaned closer to you.

“And there is that expression that I know so well. Winner?”

You nodded.

“Oh yeah!”

Jeffree held his hands up.

“That will do, Nick.”

You stood up and held a hand out.

“I would like to welcome you to our company.”

You spent the next hour going over contract information and how to improve Nick’s image. Once the conversation was over, you sat next to Nick as Jeffree stepped out of the room and finalized the conversation.

“So what was it like growing up as Eric Clapton’s daughter? That had to be awesome having a parent that was so talented. He is the reason that I started playing guitar.”

You smiled. The last thing that you really wanted to talk about was how your father was more of a friend than a parent. Sure, as you got older and he calmed him life down he decided to be the father that you needed. Letting you party with the Rolling Stones at 15 was probably not the best decision.

“He’s a wonderful father.”

Nick nodded, still looking mystified.

“Your mother was beautiful too! I can see where you get your looks.”

You wanted to roll your eyes hard at that one. Yes, you looked like your mother but that didn't mean that you had to like it. Pattie really played into her muse of Eric Clapton and George Harison role.

Before you could respond to Nick’s comment, you looked up to see Elon standing a few feet away and he did not look too happy. You had seen that look on his face way too many times! It was that jealous expression that bordered on fury.

Nick followed your gaze and his mouth dropped.

“Your Elon Musk!”

Elon’s eyes flickered to the other man. He had heard the whole conversation. Sure, the only thing that kid really did was say that you were beautiful and that was innocent enough. It was that way that he was drooling all over you and you not seeming the least bit concerned had him furious.

“I am. Y/n, are you ready, darling?”

Elon smirked at how Nick’s hopeful expression went to sold disappointment when he heard the word “darling.”

You meanwhile, stood. Jeffree quickly came in.

“Y/n, I can finish everything up. Why don’t you and Elon go have fun?”

Elon turned to Jeffree, looking a bit surprised.

“Thank you, Jeffree.”

You, meanwhile, stood and got your purse before turning to Nick.

“We’ll start recording next week.”

Nick only nodded as Elon slid his hand through yours. You turned your attention back to your boyfriend, who looked ready to snap the other man like at twig. He could actually do it too! There wouldn’t be anything left of Nick if Elon took one good punch.

“I’m ready.”

You said with a forced smile as Elon led you out.

A few minutes later, you were struggling to keep up with your obviously annoyed boyfriend.

“Can we slow down?”

You asked. Elon slowed down before turning to look at you with a less than happy expression.

“So do you always flirt with people that you are signing to your label now or is that a new thing?”

You frowned. Oh boy! The two of you had been together less than a day and were already having an argument!

“Are you serious, Elon? That guy was about to cream his pants over my father! I wasn’t flirting with him! He was doing all of the talking.”

Elon crossed his arms over his chest.

“You weren’t doing anything to stop him.”

You held your hands up defensively.

“People tell me that I am beautiful all the time! You’re one of them! I am not going to go hop into bed with someone because they tell me that I am beaituful! Considering that you are the only man that I have ever slept with, I don’t think ole Nick’s chances are too good...especially since he told me that I look like my mother. Let’s just go or something. This is silly.”

Elon shook his head.

“I have a meeting in an hour. I’ll take you to my house and drop you off.”

You rolled your eyes as he opened the passenger side door for you.

“Fine! Whatever you want.”

______

@elonscult and @xjjlex Lol, look I did do something today :)

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