#the orderly guy calls out for another pair of sheets like. he Did shit the bed. that was his escape plan

[endbeginning]

listen. I know its not a laughing matter that clay was hospitalized for having a psychotic break but i do think..... it is a little funny..... that he tactically shat the bed on purpose and used it as a chance to escape

[sugar-petals]

Baekhyun Doms You: Ending Up Laughing

↳⎡NOTE.⎦thought this’d be an interesting concept & a different side to smut: what if you try things out and it’s both not your thing? w/ a humorous twist and subby bf moments sprinkled in 😄

♡  words. 4k

+ tags ⚠️ pwp hc, bondage, throatfucking, graphic, cum play, unsafe/clumsy practice: do not recreate, degradation, biting, masochist bbh, domme!reader switches unsuccessfully, whips, hair-pulling

imagine that. a wide-eyed baekhyun pacing and tiptoeing in front of your toy shelf, trying to pick a riding crop he fancies. it takes five minutes and several ‘uhh, ohh’ confused puppy noises until he’s able to decide which one he’s taking. 

...literally even if he knows exactly which one does what. you’ve used all of them on him. 

meanwhile, you take three seconds flat to pull out one that fits your mood and proceed to edge the living shit out of him. yes, without literal further ado. teasing his dick and marking his thighs and doing all kinds of delicious things. 

he’s still going back and forth in his head without having even started out. cutely tapping and swaying from one foot to the other. 

it’s like he’s back to school. priceless.

what’s even more hilarious: baekhyun practices random mean facial expressions while trying to decide. he doesn’t seem to be sure what character he’s going for. it feels like he’s rehearsing for a concert or photoshoot, even. absolutely fascinating to watch. 

i mean he’s absolutely photogenic no doubt about that but

you’re sitting on the bed waiting naked like okay is this gonna be william shakespeare deluxe or what is kyoong channelling over there

“um... i think i got it! this one, okay? i’m ready!”

finally he walks over, strutting with his nose in the air and his eyes glaring, muscles tense, a mysterious bad boy charm about him, whip ready to sting, lips tight and punitive...

....and hits his pinky toe on the bed

oh the pain

great master baekhyun flops headfirst into the sheets processing the existential cruelty of bedpost pinewood and needs head pats to recover

lots of head pats

at least twenty of them

so many head pats

more time passes until kyoong is back in character i guess

you probably could have listened to exo’s whole discography in the meantime

and knitted a rug for taemin’s new flat

anyway

baekhyun tries to act very confidently finally getting into it 

adopting a sharp ‘hmph’ kind of tone 

endlessly teasing your back and thighs with the riding crop

so far so good sir pinky toe

but he just goes on and on

you could actually crochet a pair of socks for chen’s daughter now that you think about it

it’s you who has to tell him to get to the point and it’s clear he’s more nervous than he pretends to show

to be fair he’s not the only one

you try to get yourself mentally ready but you find yourself giving him actual orders and even correcting his stance five times cuz he’s so wobbly on the mattress like a pupper indeed

baekhyun mumbles to himself and has a hard time fully implementing the advice on posture but tries to aim well regardless. it seems to work at first

but tragically

he ends up with a miss, hitting his own thigh rather than your ass and moans out loud

now you’re the one confused because you were waiting for the whip to come down

but nope it went elsewhere did it

you wonder how he managed to do all that furious fencing in the obsession mv with an aim like that

looks like he’s so submissive, he straight up whips himself

taking matters into his own hands is he. subs these days.

baekhyun keeps on being wobbly on the bed and looks like he ran a marathon already

may i remind you that this guy does 3-hour long concerts and can practice throughout an entire night

... you both agree to immediately scratch that completely after his next flailing strike sends the riding crop flying into his unsuspecting, non-consenting plushie collection

animal cruelty

moving on

you figure that a change of location might be a good idea

baekhyun sits you down on a chair and bashfully stores away the yeeted whip

he vows to never use a riding crop again already and his teddy bears are thankful for it

now the whole plushie village and whole china knows how you don’t do it

next up is rope

what could possibly go wrong

he practiced wrist bondage on his own ankles for five days straight, you really prepared a lot of things to test out together today 

and he’s seen you tie him up over and over and over

but whatever it is that he manages to install on your arms 

looks like a piece of very experimental modern art that just sold for half a million at sotheby’s

what’s supposed to be a column tie is nothing but a mere... ball

chaotic like baekhyun’s personality. not surprising at all

wait that rhymed

anyhow

even alexander the great couldn’t have cut this gordian knot of a tangly masterpiece

ironically: while baekhyun’s roughly grabbing your chin for an intense kiss... the rope casually falls apart harder than the soviet union in 1991 my loves, you ain’t ready

baekhyun takes ages to notice while he’s teasing and kissing you and ends up sweating bullets when he realizes that the sublime art fell to pieces.

sorry comrade 

the fantasy knots and artistic freedom increases even more when it comes to putting a collar and leash on you

and his guy is supposed to be a dog owner? mongryong, instruct your man

baekhyun is a flustered mess trying to fasten it on you even if he tries very hard to be concentrated

maybe it’s because you’re watching him with literal hawk eyes checking every move (...hoping he learned something from you oh my). you’re not really melting into your role either, huh. the only thing melting is your pussy because baekhyun is acting so embarrassed which is the actual turn-on

if that doesn’t give you away

the leash comes off in two minutes time after baekhyun miraculously ties his own hands together with it

how the fuck did that happen

how do you even manage to do that

eager are we

after whipping his own thigh, self-domination 2.0 i guess

so whipping and bondage are off the programme 

this has been the most chaotic and hazardous attempt at topping in the history of sm entertainment

and they’re literally called s and m

...humiliation is next

when you planned your session you both figured hey he’s tested and tried by exo’s lively debate culture and he might be able to pull that off

and there are no props involved so he’ll have an easy time right

life is an illusion

you find out he can’t pronounce degrading names clearly because he keeps on stuttering them. which in return makes baekhyun crack up. 

carrying on the joke, you correct him every time. 

“i want you to repeat after me: stupid, slutty, bitch.”

it ends up as you doing what you always do 

teaching and training him while baekhyun either shyly or brattily obliges. you don’t even notice how you’re doing it but from the outside, it’s blatantly obvious.

because your brain is still feeling in domme mode, you also find yourself saying the usual things to him without thinking, even when he grabs you and gives orders. “now bend over! i’m gonna fuck your brains out.” — “okay, cutie!” 

which causes baekhyun’s mean face to collapse and he snap out of his command tone immediately, snorting because it’s the last thing he expected

he tries to carry on by punishing you with an actual mouth gag and a harness he can hold onto while fucking you from behind, i mean your pussy is already wet why not

guess what’s gonna ensue

wearing a harness feels kind of strange and new so you wiggle back and forth and all over the place. like what is this, what’s happening. baekhyun’s dick is going into all kinds of directions my friends, the amusement park carousel surely inspired this fucking style right here. 

and wearing a gag — there’s a way different person who needs to have this in his chatty mouth. 

kai and kyungsoo’s dream would come true and yet you’re the one gagged 

something ain’t right

if you’re honest. you’re feeling so weird being on the other end of punishment tonight and not being able to give him any directions. your dom brain is worrying he’s all left to his own devices trying to drive that confused dick home left and right and above and below and diagonal and crosswise. 

the fuck

your poor guts my god

what’s worse: his stamina is gonna sneak up behind him and tap on his shoulder like... bro that’s enough pounding for a whole month please spare these balls from deflating please do not break this device

to which your pussy agrees in unison

how are you gonna love your bub day in day out if you’re that sore

there’s nothing more frustrating than being sore and horny with byun baekhyun at your disposal

or a knocked out boyfriend trying to generate at least a sprinkle of semen after getting completely emptied in one go

probably sleeping for three days straight

alright so the harness and gag come off fast oh dear baekhyun clears those away in a heartbeat

that’s another point off the list 

the more you know

carousel cringe dicking down type of dominance... bizarre, disorderly, totally erratic, not on the agenda, worst rated on bing 

comrade baekhyun keeps on apologizing for making things so messy even if he tries and tries

you’re both so puzzled because you’re used to something so different and need a water chugging pause

baekhyun hasn’t sweated this hard since doing the MAMA choreography

and your pussy has never had to provide this much lubrication at once

where on earth is both of your usual stamina what happened

if a type of sex exhausts you fast and even baekhyun’s balls are suddenly moody you just know you’re wired in the opposite way

safe to say you’re better at giving and baekhyun is better at taking

leave the multidirectional powerfucking to kai or something

and being orderly to xiumin

another rug could have been knitted my friends 

moving on dot org

so, you both figure to take it easier and try to go with something he usually does in passing. you know, turning a typical baekhyun habit into something you can try out casually in bed so he can tease you.

that one should work out right?

proceed: teeth action. you seated, him positioning himself above you. after your approval baekhyun pulls your hair back to expose your neck — so he can deliciously bite into it (or so was the plan). 

reality: his hand gets tangled up completely. 

while he’s busy nibbling and giggling about like a lil’ bunny chomping at a carrot that turns out to be extremely ticklish herself. 

in fact, you start squeaking out a wonky high pitch, startling baekhyun’s fine musical ear to the bone by the obvious atonality. did she just try to outsing my vocal range with a creaking whistle note? 

mariah carey would cancel you on twitter over this one

that’s how you turn a vicious, possessive bite into an eternal meme

every time either of you go for a neck kiss, you end up imitating each other. baekhyun has immortalized himself as a nervous chomping bunny and you as the vocalist anti-christ

lord have mercy

you miss your old sex life already and it’s only been two hours

cause you see... if baekhyun gives you the chance to bite him? he needs a set of long sleeves, scarves, and an extra soft pillow to sit down on for the next two days

like, no mercy bitch

you get right down to business and ravage him and do it properly until he cums in his pants

sure, the way he uses his tongue now is definitely kinda hot mind you

baekhyun is always good with his singing equipment that doesn’t suddenly change aye

and you keep your eyes closed

but with time you notice that he starts drooling and whimpering. baekhyun’s wet mouth is out there betraying him, huh.

same with your body. your reactions give you away, body language just won’t lie. you have a damn hard time staying still. you wanna do something, you wanna touch and guide baekhyun all over.

and vice versa baekhyun keeps on glitching and doing the same thing he really became a living tumblr gif now

this whole session is just so confusing and laced with all these moments of awkwardness it’s really telling you something about yourself and mister pinky toe’s ideal dynamic

baekhyun can’t even get himself to even lightly slap you properly. and when he does, his delicate hands are just so cute. it’s as if legolas came along, scented in jasmine, elegant and fabulous like it’s a l’oreal commercial

he immediately looks concerned after he manages to do it cleanly and you admit it wasn’t really that exciting a feeling yourself. it felt more like, “um ouch, and?”

needless to say, you’re weirded out if anything, baekhyun smacking and dragging you around as a cold-as-ice dom is just a strange thing to do for both of you 

like even exo’s wolf era fashion was more coherent than this carrot fuckery

and those were some of the most intense turtlenecks ever 

is there really nothing dominant baekhyun can pull off. come on he’s the genius idol 

actually 

there’s something that does work out for once

because no rule without exceptions indeed

because hey, you can learn something anyway, it’s the whole point of you going through a list of things to try as a couple

baekhyun is good at doing the more hardcore, faster kind of fingering. who would have thought, totally surprising, revolutionary i know. but that’s where you’re both agreeing hey, there’s some untapped potential you can use for the steamier evenings you have going. 

cuz wow, he can get you off with flying colors. 

...only to succumb to a malfunctioning bobohu wrist 

even baekhyun’s boner for your legs in latex isn’t that stiff

it’s another pause until his hand loosens up again

this poor man just can’t win

and if you’re asking oi hard domming isn’t the only thing you can do

baekhyun trying to summon his inner soft dom: surprise, same old tale. here we go again.

your boyfriend thinks he generally looks way too puppy-like to be your big ole buff daddy taking care of you. oversized sweater, fluffy hair and all. 

you say to him well, it’s not that doms can’t wear casual things. but it’s true that you have to feel your role and find yourself believable. regardless of your looks, in fact. 

unless your partner really enjoys you dressing up as some kind of dominant hyper-archetype? looking the part is relatively unimportant if you’re absolutely made for dominance you say

pretty eye-opening moment for him

in your roleplay, he caresses and kisses you to the point, he can approach and lead you to do this or that position, don’t be mistaken. and he’s good at making presents, he’s indulging you perfectly well and actually likes doing it. but... it still ends up being more vanilla than not a few hours in. the d/s is out the door almost automatically the longer you do it.

at the end, it leaves you with a feeling of “but err, what now? give the maid outfit to charity?” 

baekhyun rubs his neck in search for something else to do, both of you staring at each other with expressions blanker than kyungsoo when a prancing chanyeol is acting up.

how did the quote go again. if you scramble for inspiration, let it be?

it’s exactly that situation when baekhyun soft doms. he can hold you tight and do his thing for a while, but the chemistry of your roles is dwindling into a question mark.

in fact. there’s an uneasy silence as if great mother suho was sitting right beside you critiquing baekhyun’s sugar daddy skills

baekhyun is rich like a motherfucker and can’t even call you ‘my innocent lil’ baby girl’ without looking like he just learned a first grade tonguetwister by heart

you did play your parts with less cracking up, but you clearly tell him that there’s still something strangely clueless and “ah, awkward” (baekhyun’s verdict in response, verbatim) in between the two of you. 

when you take care of baekhyun and tuck him in, you hardly run out of ideas. it just goes on and on. even when you played through an entire scene, you both come up with things to extend the scenario because it’s so much fun. you make him a hot chocolate, massage his feet, brush his hair, do some extra light bondage with a silk ribbon around his ankles to make him feel pretty, feed him pizza, have him cuddle up in your lap, pinch his ass, and do some rimming if he’s feeling a bit hornier. 

the spoiling is nice at the start, but there’s something missing. you want to lead his hands and really treat him, and do it all the time, and baekhyun really finds himself craving it as well. 

baekhyun soft domming quickly turns into — well just normal loving makeouts and gestures. you kiss and touch, there’s nothing hierarchical about it, nothing mega juicy or exciting.

you just don’t get into the groove, you know. there’s nothing particular happening if you try to get into those roles. it doesn’t titillate both of you for an extended period of time, it doesn’t make you curious for more. it’s like... shrug. what about it. 

when you usually dominate, you know something hits home when you think about it all day. baekhyun screaming and crying with his legs twitching pops up whenever you close your freaking eyes goddamn.

you make a note to observe whether you’re going about your daily business thinking about how you could be his innocent good girl. following his every whim, making big eyes at him or something. 

result: more shaky, ruined baekhyun moaning his soul out in the highest of notes and leaking cum everywhere from getting choked and his face sat on. 

daddy baekhyun has simply not crossed your mind. in fact, poor guy no chance to fit in there from the get-go. his particularly whorish, extra subby counterpart is all over your brain cells with his tongue out. and you’re very tempted to grab it between your thumb and index and spit in his mouth for some very good measure. maybe cum in it as well.

um. so there’s that. the more you know.

baekhyun figures as much himself and you try the other side of the equation. oh, oh. here comes hard dom baekhyun.

who gets you on your knees and starts a wild deepthroat session while calling you names. that’s all well and good... nope. your gag reflex decides to yeet some weird coughing facial expressions and reflex cock bites at poor baekhyun who doesn’t know what’s happening. to finish him off completely, you sneeze while having a hiccup and his dick slips out. 

... you both safeword at the same time.

that cleanup has scarred you both for life. what the everloving fuck. no more impulse throatfucking in this pure christian household, then. 

you’ll stick to lazy, twirling, indulgent blowjobs and the usual ruined orgasms for him — the actually planned ones, jesus christ.

like seriously. you invented a whole new language with those confused gargling noises and that wasn’t french, it was advanced level klingon. baekhyun repeats asking if you’re okay and you’re still stuck realizing oh hell, that was not pretty. off the bucket list, you like sucking him off but this style just doesn’t come natural to you. 

the popsicles you could train yourself with are usually gone from the freezer within a day after getting the groceries. baekhyun is wholeheartedly addicted to them. 

he loves cheating on his diet since you told him his fully cheeks are your emotional support squish and kiss pillows, so.

baekhyun rightfully insists he’s better at eating pussy the wild way in the first place — and that you have no business choking on his dick like you’re on hot ones eating the world’s spiciest whatever is trending now.

or actually... baekhyun’s dick can’t be compared to a chili pepper if we’re doing a choking analogy alright. that just doesn’t fit his promotion concept. cinnamon stick is more like it.

ever saw one of these terrible cinnamon spoon videos where reckless people try to defeat god by— anyway, you’ve seen them. that’s how you looked like trying to get your mouth fucked. i think god would actually be defeated by how far away from divine elegance that was and you’re so sorry for subjecting baekhyun to this artless display. 

cinnamon is still best used in small doses. say, for garnishing a creamy cake or pie y’know. 

anyway. you dished up the most butchered attempt at sexy gagging in history and so, baekhyun will preach for days how he’s the one chosen by fate to push down seven big fat inches of your strap still half asleep without even blinking. 

... and that his world-class operatic breath control would probably enable him to bury his face in your pussy on mount everest. baekhyun knows that every domme would sell her soul to get a sub as skilled with breathing as him.

...and that he has the official copyright for giving quality slobbery oral with quality smudged tears. as he will demonstrate to you almost daily from then on. king of messy head and going stupid with the tongue acrobatics. ugh, the noises are amazing, too. give him a grammy for his oral sounds.

gotta leave the heavy-duty work to the experts innit.

at dinner, he also poutingly brags how he can make his spit run out of his nose while he’s sucking himself through your entire dildo collection. and blow spit bubbles. and snort his own semen off his thighs and let it drop off his tongue if he’s in a particularly slutty mood. or a creampie. jeez, baekhyun, the wolf of wallstreet is strong in him. you literally have to stop him from showing off because “hey boy, i already know! i’ve seen it last week bro it was good!”

needless to say he’s talking in essays all day because he wants things go back to normal and he doesn’t have to ask twice.

for real, your candy man with the cinnamon stick has been suffering from the love bites and has to retire his cock for two days from the bruising. 

mind you. the pain he can deal with. that ain’t the problem. by all means, man. he’s a fucking masochist. 

it’s actually more like... submissive you has deactivated his boner and he can’t help it. it’s not you that makes him limp, it’s more like, the klingon choking and the ton of mishaps that just don’t sit right. 

baekhyun feels bad about not doing well enough to make both of you have a good time as well which is lowkey heartbreaking. you have to cheer him up with ‘now repeat after me: stupid, slutty bitch’ jokes to make him chuckle at least a bit.

cuz you gotta understand, baekhyun is very ambitious to develop his talents in all areas of life. if there’s a skill he gets stuck with and he can’t work with his potential, that’s so unusual to him.

and you say man, imagine if you were some kind of uber-talented dom. that’d still not make me sneeze any less.

if you dominate him, it feels easy to do. nothing can really ruin the mood, not even when the lube runs out (baekhyun drools enough to make anything slippery okay). 

except maybe when xiumin rings on landline because he left his favorite fluffy sweater in the subway and needs to vent about it. my god that’s such a tear-jerking story i’m close to sobbing. this shit could kill literally any boner.

or when your hand cramps up after shoving your fingers down his throat and in his ass for like half an hour which should be ranked first as the saddest anime betrayal of all time but it’s justifiable and you had a lot of fun beforehand.

in other words. only the things outside of your control tend to mess with your femdom business. in and of itself, nothing can kill your vibe except a dying battery obviously. 

whereas you trying submission oddly spoils the atmosphere from the inside out and provides a free cringe compilation. like without even doing much, it happens automatically. 

baekhyun relishes in dramatically recounting how you both looked like true clowns attempting a rendition of overexpensive, extra tangly contemporary art bondage. hell, not even employed clowns, completely retired ones, struggling to regain their tightrope tricks from summer 1912 when harry houdini was still hot shit in town. 

you say oh god, that wasn’t even worth a retired clown’s skillset, clowns work damn hard man. you’d be hardpressed to find any circus artist capable of cracking a whip onto themselves baekhyun-style and moaning out loud because it was this good. seriously. that was one for the books.

if baekhyun tried to set foot in some willy-nilly maledom porn, he’d be capable of firing himself on the first day. 

at the end, you just have a good laugh, man. you agree — hey, this ain’t it, but it’s good to know at least. tried and tested, been there, done that. self-whipping and carrot-nibbling and blowjob hiccups.

if you’re both so hopeless and living up to the challenge managed to upset poor mariah carey instead of giving you a hot and steamy time, you very well know where you belong. that’s a good feeling. assuring and a confidence boost for your skills. it makes up for all the clumsiness actually. 

exactly because the try-out part was an entire disaster, domming baekhyun will be even more fun, you can’t see it becoming anywhere near boring. it never really was, but now you know where your strong suits are even more so. and — what to avoid, anyway. 

no more unsafe practice and teddy whipping under this roof my friend

and something to incorporate more often which is baekhyun unleashing his very creative, pianoesque fingering skills on you.

you have lots of anecdotes to rile each other up as well. or, at least, tease another a bit. your high note was too legendary not to be remembered.

baekhyun will use all of these things against you in a positive way if you get what i mean. he’ll say how you being so strangely vocal made him realize just how commanding and compelling your sexy time voice is when you tell him how to kneel, how to kiss, how to revere.

and you teasing him how clumsy a dom he is makes baekhyun more self-assured in his subbing abilities. he knows for a fact you’ve not once roasted him about how well he can use his pretty mouth. cuz it’s the real deal. sloppy, skilled, and eager to please. he’s damn right about that.

hitting his toes has ruined baekhyun’s whole career as a dom and he was mad at first but he did realize that beside the clumsiness, subbing just suits him well as a principle

your experience gives you even more anticipation for all the sex you will have in the future. 

you already knew what you both liked. you know it even more now, it’s underlined, it’s a big relieved yes. no more cringey “daddy, daddy, choke me please!” worship. time to make his day and sit on baekhyun’s perfect face to fuck the shit out of it. 

or you know, actually land a whip on his juicy boyfriend thighs and listen to those heavenly loud reactions in a dead-on pitch (he usually moans in C minor).

long story short and cinnamon sticks aside. it’s even more fun now. you just love your cute subby boy just as he is. he doesn’t have to try to be anything else or step up his game. he’s so ideal just doing what he does like a real angel.

more subby stuff: m.list + ao3

↳⎡FINAL NOTE⎦i love writing crack lmao i hope you were rolling on the floor like i did 😂 write me your favorite part in the comments so we can laugh again and buy me a ko-fi if you wanna 👍

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

[tae-cup]

Gouache on Calculators by Kim Taehyung | Calcu-LATER (1)

Pairing: Art Major!Kim Taehyung x Math Major!Reader, Jimin x reader-ish

Summary:  Math never fails you. The numbers might not always make sense, but you know there must be a solution. Everything fits together like a perfect puzzle, like your tidy life and solitary living…until Kim Taehyung spills paint all over your notebook. He, quite literally, trips into your life.

Genre: College AU, Fluff, Angst, Angst with happy ending, Light Topics, humor

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Uh, it’s not this dark i swear,  slight Internalized homophobia, Drinking, Cheating, uh uh uh it’s going to be a ride.

Word Count: 2.7k Words

A/N: Ah! I’m so excited to present this absolute mess of a story! Let me know your thoughts and if you’d like to be added to the taglist! Also also also, this chapter is short, but I promise the next one is a little over twice this length!

Other: 

Series List

Masterlist

Previous (teaser) | Next 

       Mr. Erich was a slow talker. You could almost understand why Jimin was falling asleep next to you. Almost. Jimin wasn’t someone you really considered a close friend, but then again, you didn’t have many close friends. 

      The teacher continued droning on about number theory. You placed your head down on the desk, but your hand continued writing your notes. Staying up late last night wasn’t the best idea, but you needed to write an essay on Anaxagoras, a greek philosopher. 

     You hated philosophy. But you loved your mother and your mother had urged you to take a class that didn’t only involve numbers. 

     Jimin was snoring peacefully and you glanced over at him. It wasn’t exactly your issue so you looked away and went back to following the lesson. A few minutes later, he jerked awake and groaned audibly.

      A few people in the seats around looked at him quizzically. You shrunk lower in your seat. You didn’t want to attend class, too many people and it made your heart race, but you needed to pass this class and so you, sadly, must attend.

        Many knew Jimin as the son and heir to BigHit, the large business conglomerate that had wealth that made even the 1% drool, but to you he was just that guy who fell asleep in Calculus and cheated off your notes. Objectively, this was annoying. Subjectively…

     You felt him staring out of the corner of your eye. He was looking pointedly at your notes. Subjectively, you didn’t care enough. If he didn’t pay attention in class, that was his problem and you didn’t feel one way or another. At the bottom of your notes, you wrote, Pay attention. 

He wrote that down too without a second thought. 

   You were busy. You were always busy. In fact, you had an extremely important Algebra assignment to do and you knew you could get it done as long as no one bothered you-

“Oh my god.” 

    A man with blonde hair and a light blue beret stood in front of you. In his hands was a tray of spilled over paints; paints that were now on you. You tilted your head. 

“Can you move?” You spoke up after a while. 

“I’m so sorry!” He seemed unfrozen and hurried after you as you brushed by. 

“Uh, can you go away?” 

“I know you’re probably really mad! Do you want money or something? I can buy you new clothes or-wait that sounds weird.” 

“Clothes?” You glanced down and then realized the state of your wardrobe. 

    You were splattered with red, green, and yellow paint. You then glanced at your notebooks, also, helpfully, coated in a thin layer of paint. More importantly, your beautiful TI-84 calculator was ruined. 

     You opened your mouth, furiously holding up your calculator, but the man continued rambling on. Annoying. But somewhat entertaining, you supposed. 

“You got paint on my-” 

“Let me take you out! Somewhere nice? I’ll buy you a coffee!” He tore off some notebook paper and scribbled some numbers down. You paused. What was he doing? 

“Besides, it’s not paint, it’s Gouache.” He announced proudly, shoving the paper into your already full arms. 

“But that- you still got-”

“Taehyung!” Jimin called from behind you. You turned and the man winced. “Oh, Taehyungie has never been too neat, sorry about him. Anyway, we gotta go, Tae. Yoongi just called and Jungkook set fire to the carpet again.” 

“He really needs to change his major to something a little less dangerous.” 

“What is this, the third time?”

“I don’t know, but we need to go, Tae-”

“What’s his major?” You questioned.

“Philosophy.” They both said in unison. 

“Anyway gotta go!” Taehyung grabbed Jimin’s hand and started speed walking away. 

“You got paint on my calcu-”

“Later!” Jimin shouted over his shoulder, his eyes lingered on you for a moment.

    Did you have something on your face? You swiped at your cheek and he grinned, turning back around and following Taehyung.

    Once they were out of sight, you juggled your notebooks around until you could successfully pick up the paper. 278-367-5433 ;). You scoffed at the numbers, something you did often, and crumpled it up. 

“Art majors. What a waste of trees” You muttered and trudged back to your dorm. 

 “I’m so stuck on this problem, Y/N, you’ve gotta help me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you’re my friend?”

“I’m not your friend, Jimin.” You moved the phone to your other shoulder and continued working. 

“But-”

“Bye.” 

      You hung up and groaned, massaging your temple. Your room could be seen as lonely. Plain white paint sat on dull gray walls. There wasn’t a speck of trash or clothing littered on the floor. You lived an orderly life. Tidy. Your eyes strayed to your hamper. 

      Your clothes from earlier were spilling out of the top. A splash of color on a black and white canvas. You scrunched your nose and looked away in disgust. You had never understood the point of art. What did anyone ever see in it? It was meaningless. You looked back to your notes. 

      These numbers meant something. They meant the height of a ladder leaning against a building, the measurements of a bridge, and where Mary Jane would end up in 400 minutes if she’s going five miles an hour on a circular road. It was pretty deep. 

      You looked at your watch. Then you moved your attention to the window. Your dorm overlooked the sprawling center of campus. The place was a concrete playground, but with the extensive arts program, it was always covered in colorful murals and art pieces. 

       You didn’t have a roommate and you liked it that way. You had always preferred to be alone. Others called you anti-social, but, to put it another way, if there was an apocalypse and it was just you and another person alive in the entire world, you would probably leave them for dead. Life was simpler alone. 

       Besides, you wouldn’t have to deal with people chastising you about not picking up on “social cues” or whatever the hell those were. How were you supposed to know that when someone leans in real close, they want to kiss you? It seemed quite arbitrary in your mind. 

      Your phone was buzzing again. 

“What do you want?” 

“Please Y/N! This. Is. Really. Hard.” 

“Jimin, figure it out. How are you going to pass midterms if you can’t understand algebra?” 

“Ouch.”

“I mean that in the most sincere way.” You relented. 

“You’re so mean, Y/N.”

   Your eyebrows rose. That certainly wasn’t the first time you’d heard those words. 

“I’m honest. You could go ask the teacher or something.”

“He told me to ask you.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

You heard him let out a dry laugh on the other side and rustling of sheets. 

“You’re really good at math, Y/N.”

“I hate number theory.” You objected. 

“But that doesn’t mean you’re not good at it!” 

“Shut up. I’m going to hang up now.” 

“Wait no-”

Beep. 

     People were annoying. That’s what you had decided. You weren’t trying to stick out like a sore thumb, but getting in the flow of other people and understanding all the shit they wanted you to understand was hard. 

     You put your pencil back down onto the page and continued writing. You reached for your calculator, groaning when you realized the paint had covered the display. 

“Great. Just great.” 

      You set the calculator aside, feeling a little sentimental. After all, you’d had that thing since seventh grade. Your phone buzzed again. Jimin jesus chr-

“Yes?” You picked up. 

“What is this So ka toe ah everyone is telling me about.”

“How did you pass trig without sohcahtoa?” 

“Tell me!” 

“Ask Taehyung.”

“Taehyung is an art major and hasn’t had to be proficient in math since the fifth grade!” 

“Sin, cosine, tan. Bye.” 

Beep. 

     You massaged the crease between your eyebrows and your attention got caught by the darkened campus. The gross fluorescent campus lights lit up the concrete. Freshmen were running wild, happy with their newfound freedom, and seniors were leaving for clubs or parties. The lights in the dorm buildings across campus began turning on one by one. 

     You searched your pockets for the crumpled paper. When you didn’t find any, you made your way to your hamper and dug around the pockets of your paint smothered clothing. 

“Aha.” You unfolded the paper and dialed the number. You didn’t feel like talking, but Jimin was driving you up the wall. 

“Taehyung, right?” You said as he picked up. 

“Yeah? Changed your mind?”

“No. I’m going to make this short and sweet, tell Jimin to stop calling me for math help. Thanks.” You hung up and went back to your work. 

     So, technically, you were done with work, but being done with work meant that you were free and if you were free, that meant you had no excuse not to go out. And you needed an excuse to avoid people. You opened up your textbook and frowned at the various graphs and equations. You had already done all of them for fun this summer. 

“Hey, Y/N, a bunch of us in the dorm are going out, wanna come?” The hall monitor knocked on your door. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing your job?” You looked back with a confused expression. 

“Charming as ever I see.” She chuckled. 

“Come on, Jasmine, Y/N never wants to go out anyway.” Another girl shouted. 

“I know! I just wanted to be nice!” Jasmine shouted out, as if you weren’t right there. 

“What would be nice is if you left.” You said, your voice monotone and matter of fact. 

“Alright then. If you need anything, just text or call.”

“You won’t pick up anyway.” You whispered under your breath, but Jasmine was already gone. 

 “You forgot that this has to be positive, Jimin.” You leaned over him like an overbearing mother. 

“But that doesn’t make sense!”

“You’re dividing two negatives. They cancel out.” You explained, a frown twisting onto your face. 

       There was a long silence as you watched him scribble down the new numbers. The library was relatively quiet. The giggles of a group in the corner would pierce the peaceful ambience every now and then, but the librarian would always shush them and they’d die down. 

     Jimin cleared his throat, pulling your attention back to this study session. You moved across the table and sat at your seat again. You just sat and stared at him. He was intriguing. He made silly mistakes that he should honestly understand for being a junior in college. His eyes flicked up to you three times and back to his paper. 

“Well, this is awkward.” He said after a while. 

“Is it?” You shrugged and continued staring him in the eye. He shifted awkwardly and looked away. 

“Why are you staring at me?” He whispered. 

“Oh, do you want me to stop?” 

His mouth opened and closed then he looked back at his paper, his ears turning red. 

“Are you coming on to me?” He murmured. 

“What? No, why would I do that?” You said, disgusted, and returned to your work. 

       To be clear, you weren’t disgusted with him, but you were disgusted at the idea that you would come onto him. After all, you were just here for math and Jimin was just here because he needed help studying, obviously. He looked like you had just slapped him. You honestly didn’t see an issue. 

“You know, my parents are pretty traditional and they want me to bring a girl home this holiday season. You’re the only girl I’m really close friends with.” He began. You felt his eyes on you and you looked up. 

“Uh, alright? That sounds like a problem. Who are you going to take then?”

“You’re really dense, aren’t you?”

“I’m not dense.” You defended. “You need to expand your friend group.” 

“I was wondering if you could come along?”

“What?” Your furrowed your eyebrows. “Absolutely not.”

“It wouldn’t be anything romantic, just-” 

    A man with mint green hair and a slim build walked past and Jimin’s eyes followed him. You followed his line of sight. 

“....We can just go as friends, you know?” 

You nodded solemnly. “Just friends, Jimin.”

“You’ll go?”

“Only if you promise me it’s just friends because I really don’t want to have to deal with romance.” You huffed, picking up your pencil and jotting down numbers. “You already have my number, just send me the details.”

“Thank you!” 

      The librarian shot him a glare and he lowered his voice. 

“You’re a real lifesaver.” He whispered. 

“I know.” You narrowed your eyes and then began to pack up your things. “I’ve got a lot of stuff to do. Bye.” 

“What, but we just-” 

“Yeah I know, but I’m sort of sick of talking to people and I helped you with your work so I’ve got to go work on Philosophy.” 

“Philosophy? I didn’t take you as a philosophy person.”

“Me neither.”

     Aha! You knew you recognized Taehyung from somewhere. You ran your finger over the screen. The list of student names in your philosophy class was displayed. 

“Kim Taehyung. KTaehyung24@WillowsUniversity.edu.” You murmured 

“Whatcha doing?” Jasmine leaned against your doorway. 

“Just...research.” You explained lamely. 

“I see.” The hall monitor came inside and sat on your bed. “You never go out, Y/N. I’m worried about you.” 

“Okay, and?” You glanced at her as she sat cross legged on the bed. Great. She’s wrinkling the sheets. 

“Well, as a friend-”

“We’re not friends.”

“-and hall monitor, I command that you go out this weekend. Do something with your college life. I think you might regret not doing anything fun later on.” She prodded softly. 

“This is fun.” You gestured to the scattered math homework pages across the desk. 

“Right… well, just keep it in mind.” She stood and moved to your door. 

“Jasmine?”

“Yeah?” She paused, turning to look at you. You read over your philosophy work and then your essay.

“You ever think that there are so many people in your life, but no one is really a part of it?”

“You’ve got to stop with the philosophy, Y/N. It feels weird coming from you.” She laughed.

       You didn’t find anything funny in that. She looked awkwardly from you to the door, expecting you to chuckle along, but you remained silent, blinking at her. She shivered and left without another word. 

      The second she was gone, you stood abruptly and smoothed out the bed sheets, but as you did that, more wrinkles appeared on the other side. You felt the anxiety pouring out of you and you rushed to smooth down the other side, but more and more wrinkles kept appearing like disgusting bugs that wouldn’t die. You let out a frustrated sigh and tore all the sheets off your bed. 

  ��    You took the ruler off your desk and measured out the width and height, then calculated how much extra cloth is needed on both sides for it to be perfectly centered. Then you marked it off and remade the bed. You felt yourself calming as order was restored. 

    You thought back to Jasmine’s words. Go out? Absolutely not. Then you looked at the crumpled paper on your desk. 

“Fine, Jasmine.” You pursed your lips and dialed the number once more. 

“Y-ello?” Taehyung’s voice rumbled through the speaker. 

“I want a coffee, but I’d prefer to go somewhere quiet.”

“Straight to the point I see.”

“Polite niceties take up too much time. When are you available?” “Whenever you are, love.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Alright. Uh…” There was a long pause and you heard rustling in the background. “Sorry just grabbing a piece of paper.”

“Why are you apologizing? There’s nothing to apologize for.” You said quickly, eager to get this conversation over with. 

“I’m free this Saturday?” 

“Works for me.” You said. You didn’t need to check your calendar to know you had nothing to do. 

“Great see you then.” He said stiffly.

“Yup.”

“Uh...bye?”

“Alright.” 

Beep. 

      Now it was time to overthink the arrangement until Saturday.

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[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Tabaco y Brea

Part two

Pairing: Javier Peña x DEA! reader

Rating: M, eventually. Now? PG-13

Words: 3.5k

A/N: well, the first part didn't get many notes but I really love this story. If a single person reads it and likes it, then it's enough for me :)

Warnings: shouting, fighting, swearing, is eating a warning?,jealousy.

Taglist: @dynphomaniac

Part one here

The days passed faster than you would have liked. With so much paperwork added for the Cali mission, you stayed late almost every day. Javi, in an unexpected change of events, stayed with you. He didn't do shit, of course, but his company was comforting. He would softly hum songs sometimes, or get out a book and read it out loud to you. 

The night before, he had been singing the Rocky soundtrack for most of it, turning to Led Zeppelin when he finished. You still remember how after you heard on the radio that John Bonham had been found dead in September 1980, he had left the office for a second and stayed in complete silence outside. 

And then again in December, when they announced they were going to split. You never mentioned it, and you knew he wouldn't admit it even with a gun pointed at his head, but you were sure you had seen a tear run down his cheek. He was a huge fan, apparently.

Tonight, he was reading Cien Años de Soledad (One Hundred Years of Solitude), by Gabriel García Márquez. You loved that author, but you weren't sure if you had ever mentioned it to him. Maybe he knew you enough to figure it out without the need of hearing it straight from your mouth.

"José Arcadio Buendía, que era el hombre más emprendedor que se vería jamás en la aldea, había dispuesto de tal modo la posición de las casas, que desde todas podía llegarse al río y abastecerse de agua con igual esfuerzo, y trazó las calles con tan buen sentido que ninguna casa recibía más sol que otra a la hora del calor." (José Arcadio Buendía, who was the most enterprising man ever to be seen in the village, had set up the placement of the houses in such a way that from all of them one could reach the river and draw water with the same effort, and he had lined up the streets with such good sense that no house got more sun than another during the hot time of day. )

His voice was very soothing to you, even more when he was speaking Spanish. You didn't know if he had noticed, but it got more raspy and deep when he changed languages. It reminded you of the summers spent in México with your father, when he would tell you stories about his childhood in México City or the trips he would do to Nuevo Laredo with your grandma.

He stopped reading for a second and you looked up to see why was that just to find him already staring at you.

"What's wrong?" you asked, not wanting to tell him you were enjoying his reading.

"Do you like this book?"

You nodded, a slight blush spreading in your cheeks. You tended not to give him compliments, his ego was big enough as it was without you contributing, but you figured this one wouldn't hurt.

"He's one of my favorite authors."

He smiled. "I figured"

"You brought that one because you thought I'd like it?"

It was just teasing, of course. You didn't think he'd do such a gesture for you, and the idea of him knowing you so well scared you a little bit.

He ignored you and kept going. " En pocos años, Macondo fue una aldea más ordenada y laboriosa que cualquiera de las conocidas hasta entonces por sus 300 habitantes. Era en verdad una aldea feliz, donde nadie era mayor de treinta años y donde nadie había muerto." (  Within a few years Macondo was a village that was more orderly and hard working than any known until then by its three hundred inhabitants. It was a truly happy village where no one was over thirty years of age and where no one had died.)

You stopped working for a moment, listening to the words he was saying instead. 

Did he know how sexy his voice was? How good he sounded? He was one of the smartest people you knew, and you had been to enough places and met enough people to say that with confidence. His mind was sharp, could run 10 miles per minute if the situation required it.

He noticed you were staring and stopped again. His frown got more pronounced, looking at you intrigued.

"What are you looking at?" his tone was defensive. He didn't like it when you stared at him too long, it felt like you could see straight through him, and there were some things he didn't want you to know.

You shook your head and laughed. "You look tired"

With a shrug, he returned his eyes to the book, but you stretched your arm to stop him. 

"Now what?"

You took the book from his hands and placed a clean sheet of paper from your desk between the pages he had been reading and closed it. With a soft sound, you let it fall on top of the table.

"It's getting late, we should go"

He straightened, surprised. Usually, he was the one to prey you away from all the paperwork. If he didn't stay with you, he would probably find you there still working the next morning.

"You are telling me we should leave?"

You nodded.

"Quick, before I change my mind."

At that, he stood up like a spring and started collecting his things. You chuckled as you saved the files on the drawer and put your jacket on.

"Let's go"

Two days later, he approached you without no greeting and in a very bad mood.

"The gringo's here"

What a great way to start the morning, you thought.

"Weren't we supposed to pick him up or something?"

Javi shook his head. He seemed frustrated, but you didn't know if it was about the arrival of your new partner or something else. With Javi, you could never guess.

His shoulders were tense, the beige suit he was wearing along with the striped tie and his yellow aviators made him look older and more serious. Had he dressed up to meet the new guy? Really?

"I'm gonna meet him outside at the Embassy's parking lot, wait here"

You nodded and kept filling the paperwork for the Cali raid as he left. You were going to take the new guy with you. You couldn't just dump him, he wasn't brought here to sit around and watch from the sidelines.

You just hoped he did his work.

A few minutes passed when you heard a pair of footsteps walking through the corridor.

"We're going to Medellín?"

That definitely wasn't Javi.

You stood up, turning around to the voice at your back. 

You had to suppress a laugh once you took a glance at them.

Their suits were almost the same color, Javi's just a shade darker. Steve Murphy was wearing a light blue shirt along with a navy blue tie, had a mustache similar to Javi's too (but it made him look weird, if you were honest). His hair was dark blonde, combed to one side, and his face gave away a little nervousness. He was also taller than Javi, meaning you had to crank your neck up to meet his eyes.

"Murphy this is Bera. Bera, Murphy." Javi pointed at you as Steve shook your hand. His hold was strong, and he squeezed with enough force to be firm but not enough to hurt you. That came appreciated, every single man who met you always treated you as if you were made of porcelain. 

You glared at Javi and told Steve your real name, then clarified, "But everyone calls me Bera" 

"Bera?" he asked. You smiled in return. 

"Long story, you'll get to know it later"

He smiled too, and they left for the ambassador's office. 

As it was everyone's knowledge at the Embassy, she didn't like Javi very much, so you dealt with it when you had to ask her for something. She had a soft spot for you, you guessed it was because she knew how hard it was to be a woman in this line of work. Maybe she didn't like him because of his methods of getting info, you weren't sure.

Once they got out, Javi stood up behind his desk and started moving the few papers he had there. You wondered how he managed to have such a mess considering he only read intel, made calls and left you with everything else.

"Ahora qué se te perdió Peña?" (What did you loose now Peña?)

He glared at you and kept moving his papers. His actions were getting desperate, frustration from before about who knows what affecting him.

Murphy was looking back and forth between the two of you, standing awkwardly between your desks. You didn't know if he had understood what you said, but judging by his face, you guessed he hadn't.

"Recuerdas la informante de la que te hablé?" (Remember the informant I told you about?"

You rolled your eyes. Of course you remembered, he had been seeing her frequently over the past few weeks. He wasn't one to be constant about his hookups, but apparently, she was good enough to keep a streak with him. He hadn't seen her since you had been staying late, but last night you had left early and he went straight to search for her. You didn't have to be a genius to guess what had happened when he found her.

"Helena Sotomayor?" you asked, venom filling your voice. You didn't have anything against her or what she did, but jealousy wasn't something you could avoid easily, especially if you knew how Javier felt about her.

"Si"  his voice got deeper as he got angrier, "habrá una reunión de narcos en Medellín, y se irá a la fiesta que harán después"

(Yes, there's gonna be a reunion of narcos in Medellín, and she's leaving for the party they're hosting after)

"And what? You can't get another girl for the night?" you snarled, your tone hard and resentful. Steve looked at you with his eyes wide open, subconsciously getting closer to Javi.

"It's not about that!" Javier raised his arms exasperated, "you don't seem to understand. There's gonna be a meeting with different leaders of cartels, and they're surely planning something"

You scoffed, "yeah idiot, I get that! What I mean is what the hell are you searching for that has to do with her?"

Suddenly his back straightened, and you knew you weren't going to like what he was gonna say next.

"I need to fill a visa request for her"

You felt how your face got red and warmth spread through your body, filling it with jealousy and anger. Your eyes crossed with his and suddenly it had turned into yet another one of your fights. So that's what was bothering him. 

Steve looked at Javi, alarmed. 

"Is your informant really a prostitute?"

Javi didn't even look at him, "Everybody works for somebody"

You abruptly stood up and took your jacket off of your chair's back, walking fast towards the exit.

"A dónde carajos vas?" (where the fuck are you going?) he screamed, fisting his hands at his sides.

You turned around and showed him the finger.

"It's none of your fucking business!"

Javier and Steve stood there as you left, stunned. Your heels making a clicking sound that resonated in the office. Javier was used to your fighting and your screaming, it was part of your dynamic, but he didn't understand why you had reacted so bad this time. Sure, he knew you weren't fond of his way of finding intel, but you never really did more than glare or tease. This was new.

"Is it always like this with you two?" Steve asked. Javi moved his head from side to side, crinkling his eyes.

"A little less explosive, but yes"

Steve let out a sigh. This was going to be some long couple of months (or years?) for him, he just knew it.

As you walked, your eyes started to fill with tears, but you didn't know if it was out of rage or hurt. You were not one to cry, so you wiped them before they fell and rounded the corner to the right towards the diner you usually ate at.

Once you crossed the street and rounded another corner to the left, in the middle of the street was a big sign that spelled Salomé in cursive. You got inside and sat down at the table from the corner, taking out the money of your jacket's pocket. Catalina (or Cata), the cute old lady that managed it, smiled at you from the counter and walked towards you. You smiled back, doing your best to conceal your feelings.

"Qué hace mi niña preciosa aqui?" (what is my precious girl doing here?) . Her voice was soft, filled with affection. His tone was motherly and you knew she had noticed something was wrong.

You smiled sadly at her. "Solo tengo hambre"( I'm just hungry )

 Cata immediately sat down in the chair across you and took your hands between hers. She heard something off in your voice, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Ahora qué hizo ese chamaco malcriado?" (What did that spoiled brat do now?) Her tone changed to playful but angry in a matter of seconds, her frown accentuated even more than it already was by her age.

You shook your head, laughing. Cata was also very fond of Javi, but she knew how much of an idiot he could be. Surprisingly, you had met her before he had, one time you were hungry and the food at the Embassy didn't sound very appealing to your ears or stomach.

"Nada Catita, ya sabes cómo es" (Nothing Catita, you know how he is). You tried to smile and she cupped your head between her hands, caressing your face with his thumb. You put your hand above hers and gave it a soft squeeze.

"Qué quiere comer mi niña?" (What do you want to eat my girl?)

A grin spread across your cheeks. "Ajiaco con pollo, porfa." (Ajiaco with chicken, please. it's a typical food in Colombia, commonly found in Bogotá. It consists of shredded chicken, pastusa, sabanera and/or creole potato, corn and maybe cream milk)

She nodded and stood up, sadness forgotten for a moment.

"Con aguacate y arroz aparte?" (with avocado and rice aside?)

You nodded eagerly. "Sabes que si" (you know it)

The curtains hiding the kitchen opened to her as she walked inside to cook your food. Your heart warmed and clenched a little at how much love she showed you every time you came here, how she genuinely cared for you.

The tablecloth was made of white lace, and you passed your fingers through the surface. It felt gritty to the touch, but its beauty completely overshadowed it. Cata had gifted you one to take home once, and it was now decorating your little table at the living room in the apartment.

The noises of Bogotá surrounded you. It was easy to hear children playing and their mothers screaming at them; people selling fruits, clothes, arguing and laughing. People doing their best to keep living, even with the crisis they were dealing with, the number of narcos that were raising and how much hell they were surely about to unleash in this beautiful country.

 It was your job to stop them, to do your best at helping these people get their normal lives back. 

The sound of Cata approaching took you out of your thoughts.

"Aquí está mi dulce niña, justo como le gusta" (here it is my sweet girl, just how you like it)

You took the plate of food and tilted your head, thankful. "Gracias Cata" (thank you Cata)

You quickly set your spoon to the food and as you took the first bite, everything you were worried about banished for a second. Javier, the DEA, Escobar, Steve, everything flew out the window.

That's why you had come, because everything could be forgotten for a moment if you choose the right dish to stuff your mouth with.

Cata laughed at your eagerness, patting your shoulder with her soft hand. "Tranquilícese muñequita, que la comida no se le va a ir" (Calm down little doll, the food is not going to get away)

With your mouth full you could only nod, giving her an apologetic smile. She shook her head, eyes soft as they looked at you.

The rest of your meal was spent in silence, his presence comforting to your aching heart. She knew when to speak and when to stay silent, you always talked when you wanted to and it was pointless to try and make you.

Once you finished, you took a napkin and cleaned your mouth, handing her much more money than the food cost. She immediately gave it back to you, shaking her head.

"no no mi niña, llévese eso." (no no my girl, take that away)

Standing up, you took her hand and placed the money in her palm. 

"Yo no lo necesito Catita" (I don't need it Catita) With a kiss to the top of her head, you swiftly got out of there, her sigh reaching your ears as you walked back to the Embassy. 

You felt much lighter, the pain in your chest gone and your muscles relaxed. You entered the building and walked down the stairs to the basement, heading straight to your desk. Javi was sitting at his, filling what you guessed was the visa request for Helena. You didn't give it importance, sitting down at your chair and stripping off your jacket. The office was getting hot again, so you tied your hair up in a ponytail and started working as if nothing had happened.

Steve gives you a funny look from his seat between your desks. He won't have his own for at least a week, so either you let him use part of yours or Javier will.

You pray he's an organized person and wave at him.

"Come on Miami, get over here"

He sits straight and gives you a visual similar to a puppy being called, then stands up to pull his chair to sit across you. His desk will probably be on the opposite wall of yours anyway, may as well get used to his face.

"Do you need help with anything?"

His words sound like heaven in your ears, and you're sure your eyes even sparkle a little bit. Finally, someone is going to help you.

"Could you help me fill these formats, please? I'm sure you know how to"

He laughs a little and takes the bunch of documents you're handing him, nodding. He never liked doing paperwork either but didn't hate it as much as Peña seemed to do. He can't help but think that leaving you with everything is too much of a dick move and decides to help you as much as he can from now on.

Both of you start to work without another word, the air feeling a little tense now that Steve feels like less of a stranger at the office. He can't do much about the rigidness between the two of you, though.

Javier raises his head from the request he's filling out and a pang on his chest makes itself present once he gets a good look at the scene in front of him.

In all the time he's known you, he has never seen you so relaxed while working. Your cheeks are flushed from the heat that's enveloping the entire place, strands of hair falling to your face as you're bent over whatever document you're working on. Your shoulders are less tense than he's seen in weeks, and he can even see a faint smile forming at your lips. Steve is reading through the papers you gave him, his posture loose and easy.

With new people, you're usually slow to warm up to, you hate anyone who isn't him getting close at your workplace, and even then you're hesitant. Despite this, you seem to be getting used to Murphy pretty quickly, and the thought creates a knot right at the center of his stomach. 

He shakes the thought out of his head and keeps working on the visa request, but he can't shake the warm, burning feeling that has spread all over his body.

The day goes quickly, with Murphy helping you with everything you ask for and things getting easier between you two. With every laugh and joke the two of you exchange, Javier feels his body get hotter and hotter, but refuses to acknowledge it. 

Soon it's time to leave and for the first time in weeks, you don't need to stay late.

"Vamonos compañera" (let's go partner) Javier says, but his words come out hard and tense.

It only gets worse when you shake your head as you stand up.

"Hoy no Javier, tomaré el colectivo" (not today Javier, I'm taking the bus)

He grits his teeth and fists his hands at his sides but otherwise nods. He takes his jacket off the rack and rounds his desk, waiting for you and Steve to walk in front of him.

As the three of you get out of the building,the sun has barely set and it's a good change from the pitch black night you had gotten used to. You bid each other goodbye and he silently watches how you walk alongside Murphy through the alley with a clenching heart and a hot face, jumping into his Jeep and closing the door with much more force than necessary.

"pinche gringo" (fucking gringo) he mutters as he drives away.

[justalittlebluetiefling]

Chapter 46: Sometimes I Can’t See Myself

Rating: T Fandom: The 100 Pairing: Bellamy x Clarke Chapter: 46/68 Word Count: 4146 Words

Chapter Summary: Another sad lack of an attempt to be clever with my summary. Instead we have a content warning again. Here’s where the ‘Minor Character Death’ tag on AO3 comes into play. This is yet another depressing chapter. But there’s nowhere to go but up from here, right? Right?

Also on AO3; Start from the beginning on AO3

It is a curious thing, the death of a loved one. We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up. And yet, it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is. Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try and readjust the way you thought of things. – Daniel Handler

Aurora died at three o’clock in the morning. Clarke had seen cadavers in her anatomy class, but when her dad passed away, her mother wouldn’t let her see him. The car accident had been so bad that they had no choice but to have a closed casket. Nothing could prepare her for the sight of someone she cared about, someone she loved, someone who she had just had a conversation with hours ago, lying motionless on a bed.

The room was quiet. Everything had been unplugged. Someone had pulled Octavia and Bellamy out of the room to discuss the next steps and an orderly was on the way to take Aurora down to the morgue. It felt wrong to leave her alone. It looked like she was asleep. Clarke was sure that if she stepped too loudly, she would wake up and everything would be okay again. But she didn’t.

While she waited, she sat and held her hand. She cried and promised over and over to do everything she could for Octavia and Bellamy. This would be worse for them than it had been for her. They had only ever had their mom and Clarke had no idea what to do for them.

Octavia came back in with the orderly and Clarke jumped up, wiping her tears away. She had a brief respite from holding it in, but it wasn’t her turn anymore. It was time to be strong again. Still, nothing could have prepared her for the way it felt to watch her best friend see her mother be carted away by a stranger.

They sat on the floor together for a long time afterward. Clarke stroked Octavia’s hair while she sobbed into Clarke’s lap. The position hurt Clarke’s back, but if she tried to adjust herself, she was worried they would end up leaving the room. If they left the room, it would mean that the whole day was real. It felt like there was a chance that if they stayed, Clarke could wake up and find out that the whole night had been a really fucked up dream.

“Excuse me, Miss Blake?” A timid, almost-whisper broke through the silence of the room. Clarke glanced up, glaring at the interruption, frustrated by the weight of the reality settling in, but the nurse looked so uncomfortable that it was hard to remain annoyed. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but we need one more signature.”

“I thought Bellamy was taking care of that?” Clarke’s question was directed more to Octavia, who frowned as she wiped her tears away.

“He was.” O looked at Clarke for help fixing a couple eyeliner smudges for her before they helped each other stand. “My boyfriend was with him. Did they go somewhere?”

“Your boyfriend is still outside, but we can’t find your brother. He needed a moment. We thought he was coming in here, but….”

Clarke had checked every place she could think of. She kicked herself internally for not going up to their house first, but she had started driving toward their apartments before she thought of the idea. The café was closed, but Bellamy had a key, so she made sure to check all the windows. It scared the poor girl who was prepping the store for opening, but he wasn’t there.

She drove by the bar Miller used to work at, but it was closed and empty. Bellamy’s car wasn’t there anyway, so she moved on to his apartment. Both O and Clarke had keys, so she let herself in. It was dark and she tried to be quiet, but Miller woke up when she tripped over the coffee table. Bellamy wasn’t there, either. Miller offered to wake up Harper and continue the search. Clarke made sure one of them would stay home if they decided to go look for him. Once she had his promise that he would call her immediately if Bellamy showed up, she left.

Clarke 5:42am Hey, I’ve checked his place, the café, and Miller’s old bar. Forgot bars aren't open at 5am No luck so far. Just scared the shit out of Miller, though. Running home to change clothes, because no lie? I’m pretty gross. Any luck on your end?

Octavia 5:45am he hasn’t come back he left his phone here we’re pretty much done I think I’m going to go to Lincoln’s and try to get some sleep does that make me a bad sister?

Clarke 5:53am Come on, O. He did leave without saying anything. I’d be pissed off if I weren’t so worried.

Octavia 5:55am Yeah, me too. where else are you going to go? I can meet you, if you want.

Clarke 5:56am No, I said I got this. Go get some sleep. I am a little offended that you think Lincoln’s a better cuddler, though. I’m going to try a couple more places around campus Then I might drive up to your house. That’s the only other place I can think of.

Octavia 5:58am <3 <3 <3 Never. You’re way softer. really though, i can meet you up there in about 45 if you want?

Clarke 5:59am Nope! Go try to get some sleep. I promise I’ll come home after that and get some sleep of my own. Love you lots.

Octavia 6:00am Okay fine…… Love you too Really more all the time

When she sat back down in the driver’s seat and started the car, she realized she’d been awake for almost twenty-four hours. She wanted to brush her teeth and change her clothes, so she headed back toward her place. It would have been nice to have a nap, but she could at least make coffee while she was at home. After texting Octavia, she grabbed her bag and made her way up the stairs.

It seemed silly in hindsight that it hadn’t occurred to her that Bellamy might be sitting outside of her apartment. Yet, there he was, sitting on the ground with his head resting on his knees and his hands in his hair. Clarke hesitated. She worried that if she rushed him, he would leave. He didn’t seem to realize that she was standing there, though, so she approached him quietly. The only sign that he knew someone was there was the growing tension in his shoulders.

Clarke slid down the wall to sit next to him. “Hey. I’ve been looking for you.”

Bellamy shrugged.

“O’s going to Lincoln’s. You know, if you were looking for her.”

“I’m not.” His voice was muffled by his arms.

He was quiet again for a minute, but Clarke wasn’t sure what to say, so she just set a hand on his knee. When he finally looked at her, it was with puffy, bloodshot eyes. It took all of her self control to not immediately launch herself at him.

“Why didn’t you just go inside? You have a key.”

“I didn’t want to scare you guys.”

Clarke choked back a laugh and struggled over an appropriate response. Her gut reaction was to say something like, ‘Well, next time don’t disappear on everyone and leave your phone behind,’ but she wanted to hold back the snark. In the end, she just felt guilty. She knew Octavia came back to the room, because she needed to break down. It left Bellamy alone with Lincoln. They got along, sure, but that wasn’t exactly a relationship with the most emotional depth. Neither leaned on the other for support.

She scooted closer so their hips were touching. “I should have come out there with you guys. I’m sorry I left you alone.”

He shook his head and put his head back down into his arms. “They started asking about funeral homes, Clarke. Funeral homes and organ donation. Then, they gave me this checklist and there’s all this stuff to do. When they asked me if I wanted to go say goodbye before they took her away, I didn’t know what to do. I just left. I didn’t mean to.” His voice shook, but he kept going. “The last thing she said to me was, ‘You’ll be okay,’ and I don’t know how I’m supposed to be.”

The last words came out with a shudder. Clarke’s heart pounded in her chest, because she knew there was a right and a wrong moment to hug someone after a family member died. She was terrified that she wasn’t who he wanted in that moment, but every shake of his shoulders broke her willpower a little more.

First, she carefully put one arm around the back of his neck and then slid the other across his stomach. She waited for a moment, hoping he wouldn’t pull away, before he wrapped his arms around her and set his forehead on her shoulder with an almost relieved sigh. She held in her own, tightened her grip, and they sat that way for a long time. Clarke allowed herself get lost in the tempo of his breathing as it started to calm, reveling in his body heat.

After she lost count of how many yawns she had held in, she pressed her forehead into his neck. “Do you want to go inside and try to sleep?”

Bellamy sighed, but nodded against her shoulder. It was no small effort to untangle themselves from each other, but they did before they helped each other stand, both a little cramped. She held onto his hand while she unlocked the door. There was only a minor argument over sleeping arrangements (“Are you kidding? I’m not taking a bed after I freaked you guys out.”) but getting ready for bed was a mostly quiet affair. Clarke knew he would talk to her when he was ready. There would be time for that after they both got some sleep.

She sent a quick text off to Octavia and Miller to let them know Bellamy was there, then changed into a pair of pajama shorts and grabbed a couple pillows and blankets off of her bed. After she handed him a blanket and pillow, he watched her out of the side of his eye while she closed the blinds and set up her blanket on the other part of the sectional.

“What are you doing?” He finally broke the silence when she set her pillow down.

Clarke shrugged and looked him up and down. She decided to risk a joke. “Well, you are a flight risk. Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

Bellamy half-smiled, but it disappeared quickly.

“Do you need anything? Water? Alcohol? Me to leave you alone?”

“I think sleep will do for now.”

They both settled onto the couch in silence once again. The only noise in the room was the rustle of the blankets while they adjusted themselves. They had both been awake for over a day and Clarke thought it would be easier to fall asleep. Her mind wouldn’t stop racing, though. She needed to find a solution, anything to help the people she loved while they were in pain. The cliché that it just takes time was true, but it frustrated her that she had nothing better to offer them.

“Clarke?”

She jumped, but held in her squeak of surprise. “Yeah, Bellamy?”

“You’re still awake?”

“Yeah, Bellamy.” She chuckled quietly.

“I don’t know how to go to sleep right now.”

“Oh.” An idea clicked into place all of a sudden. If she wasn’t running on fumes, she might have stopped to think about how weird her suggestion was before it popped out. “All right, well, the couch was a bad idea. Let’s go in my room.”

He sat up. “I already told you I’m not taking your bed.”

Clarke scoffed and threw her pillow at him before pulling his blanket off. “You’re not taking my bed. We’re taking my bed.”

She left him spluttering in her wake as she dragged the blankets back to her room. When he finally padded in through the open door, clutching the pillows to his chest, she had already made the bed again. She pulled the pillows out of his grasp and set them on the bed before poking him in the chest.

“You need to get comfortable. I don’t think you wear a shirt when you sleep.”

“Well, I don’t, but –”

Clarke started to tug his shirt up and he smacked her hands away.

“Fine. Stop. Let me do it.” He glared at her, but pulled his shirt off.

He took a step toward the bed, but she grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “Do you wear your jeans to bed?”

“Clarke.”

“I mean, you’re wearing underwear, right?” She was so grateful that her lamp was on its dimmest setting, because she knew her face was bright red.

“Of course!” He sounded scandalized.

“Well, take your pants off. I’ve seen guys in their underwear before. This isn’t going to scar my delicate sensibilities.”

“Clarke.”

“Take your pants off, Bellamy.” She reached her hand toward the button on his jeans, narrowing her eyes at him. “I’ll pin you down and take them off for you. I’m taking self-defense classes with O. I could totally take you down.”

He scoffed and glared again, but finally unbuttoned his pants. While he stepped out of the legs, he muttered something about stubborn and insane that she couldn’t quite make out. He did a little spin when he was done. “Happy, Princess?”

“I never thought you’d complain about a girl trying to get you mostly naked.” She pushed him toward the bed and moved to the other side to crawl under the covers.

“I never thought you’d be the one asking.” He laid on his side facing her. She pulled the blanket up over his shoulder and he rolled his eyes. “Any other requirements or can we finally go to sleep?”

Clarke sighed, the reality of her suggestion finally sinking in. It had been a long time since she’d slept in a bed with someone. The theory that was bouncing around in her head might be wrong, but she remembered sneaking into her mom’s room after her dad died so many nights. Sleeping alone had been impossible for her. This was about comfort and the fact that Bellamy was laying in her bed in his underwear would not impact their friendship.

The look of mild panic on his face as she scooted closer to him was a little funny. She adjusted herself so that she could put her chin on top of Bellamy’s head and pulled him closer. His heart pounded against her stomach and she wondered if he could feel her own doing the same against his ear. She used her free arm to trace random shapes into his back until his breathing finally evened out.

The front door closed and startled Clarke awake. The first thing she registered other than Octavia’s hushed cursing was how warm it was in her bed. Everything else came slamming in after that. Somehow, while they were sleeping, Bellamy and Clarke had readjusted so her head was underneath his chin. Both of his arms were still wrapped around her and her left leg was tangled with both of his.

“Clarke? Is Bellamy still here?” Octavia whispered from the doorway.

Clarke gently pulled herself back, but only a little. “He’s in here.” She could see Octavia hesitate in the door and Clarke realized how weird this might look. “Come here.”

Bellamy still didn’t wake up when she extracted her leg from his and rolled over. She had to scoot back into him to make room for Octavia, though, and his grip tightened around her waist. When O took her shoes off and climbed into the bed, Clarke grabbed her hands.

“What time is it?”

“It’s almost one. Lincoln wanted to call out of work, but I wanted to come home anyway.” She studied her brother behind Clarke for a moment. “Thanks for finding him.”

Clarke smiled sadly. “It was easy. I should have just come home from the start.”

“He’s usually a really light sleeper. He must be exhausted.” Octavia smiled softly and then yawned. “Can I stay here? I’m not ready to be alone.”

The next time Clarke woke up, Octavia was gone. She could hear the shower down the hall, but it wasn’t what woke her up. Bellamy wouldn’t stop moving.

“You know, you wake up really loudly,” she muttered into her pillow.

The movements froze and she smiled. “Sorry. You’re in the middle of the bed, you know?”

Clarke turned around to face him as he settled back onto the pillow. “Yeah, your sister came in here for a while.”

“That explains why my phone is over here.” He smiled, but it fell almost faster than it appeared.

His hair was sticking out in multiple directions and he had a pillow crease on his face, but it was Bellamy, so of course he still looked good. Even with sadness creeping back onto his face as he became more alert… Clarke thought he probably looked good doing anything and quickly pushed the thought back down.

“What time is it?”

“A little after three.”

“Do you want breakfast? I’ve got some food.”

He shrugged and buried his face back into the pillow.

“I’ll go start making some stuff and you can come out when you’re ready?”

She turned to get up, but his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her back flush against his chest. It had been different when they were sleeping, because she could write it off as an unconscious choice, but awake, she was uncomfortably aware of his body heat melding with hers, of the way his skin pressed into her shoulders.

“Bellamy, what—”

“Can we just lay here for another minute, Clarke?”

“You can stay here as long as—”

“No, I need you to stay. Just for a minute. Please.”

The desperation in his voice hurt her heart. She tried to turn around to hug him, but his grip was too tight and he had buried his face into the back of her neck, so she settled for clinging onto his arm. “I can stay here as long as you need me.”

“It’s just a minute, I promise.” Every deep breath he took pressed his ribs against her spine and his body shook every time he exhaled. She waited and stroked his arm, because that was the only thing she could do. When they heard the shower shut off, he spoke, and his breath tickled the hair on the back of her neck. “If we have to get up, that means it’s real. I’m just… I’m really scared.”

“I’m here, though. And if you need anything….” She let her voice trail off as he squeezed her one more time and then pushed away.

“I know. But you don’t need to take care of us. We’ll make it work.”

“Hey.” Clarke frowned and pushed herself up as he pulled his pants on. He leaned down to pick up his shirt and she grabbed onto it. “Stop it. Don’t pull away now. I can help you.”

“But we don’t need your help.” The tears in his eyes took all the heat out of his glare and their tug of war game ended with Clarke yanking his shirt out of his hands. “What are you trying to do, Clarke?”

She threw his shirt on the other side of her room and wrapped her arms around his waist before he could go after it. “I want you to tell me that I can be there for you.”

“You’ve already done more than enough.” His arms stayed stiff at his sides.

“If you really want me to stand off on the sidelines and leave you alone, then I will. I don’t know where you think you need to run off to right now, but you smell bad and you should at least shower before you go. There are extra towels in my closet.”

Before he could say anything else, she stormed out of the room and into the kitchen. Tears burned in her eyes. She gripped the edge of the counter and inhaled sharply through her nose, exhaled through her mouth, and repeated. When she wanted comfort, she wanted physical contact, and she felt horrible that she had pushed that on him. She knew he wasn’t the same way, but he had been waiting outside her apartment, so she thought it was what he wanted. She didn’t want to tell him what Aurora had said… that she would be their family now if they wanted. It hurt to think that he didn’t want that.

Muffled conversation from the other end of the hall broke her out of her thoughts. To avoid listening, she busied herself with starting coffee and breakfast. The bathroom door closed again and Octavia padded into the kitchen in pajamas, running a towel through her hair as Clarke set the finished bacon onto a toweled plate.

“Hey. Did I already thank you for finding him?”

Clarke focused on beating the eggs she had broken into a bowl. “Yeah, you did.”

“He feels like an ass right now.”

“He shouldn’t. It’s okay. I’m overstepping.” O set a hand on her wrist and Clarke stopped mixing the eggs. They were probably overmixed at this point anyway. She gently pulled away from Octavia and poured them into the pan.

“He doesn’t want you to be reminded of your dad.”

“Well, that’s stupid, of course this reminds me of my dad. It’s why I’m being such an ass and keep trying to insert myself into your grief.” She added salt and pepper to the eggs and mixed them gently as they cooked. “But it’s different. I still had my mom and I—” Clarke dropped the spatula and spun around, covering her mouth. Octavia’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. “O, I’m so sorry.”

“Not everything is your fault, you know,” she said, her voice heavy. She cleared her throat and hopped up to sit on the counter. “I can’t believe you didn’t pull out your fancy french toast for this situation.”

Clarke took the hint and turned back to the food. “I wasn’t sure how much either of you would feel up to eating, so I thought I’d go with something easier.”

“Probably a good call. Can I help?”

Octavia made some toast and grabbed plates and silverware while Clarke finished up the eggs. When Bellamy emerged, he took his plate with no protest and they all ate in relative silence. He did try to do the dishes, but let Clarke quash that idea with a glare. She wanted to let them talk and get what they needed to sorted without her, so she washed the dishes as slowly as possible. And by hand. Which sucked, because she hated doing dishes.

When the last dish was in the dish drainer, she grabbed a towel to dry her hands and turned around to find Bellamy sitting on the counter again. “I thought you were leaving soon.”

“Yeah, I’m taking off in a minute. I wanted to say bye, first.” He patted the spot on the counter next to him and Clarke hesitated. “Will you get your ass over here, Princess?” She threw the towel at him, but hopped up next to him anyway. He set his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side. “I am sorry about earlier. I know you’d tap out if it was too much for you to handle.”

“Can we not talk about that? It’s nothing. No big deal.”

“I know.” He set his chin on her head and she elbowed him in the side. It was really annoying when he did that. “I’ll just say thanks, then.”

Clarke leaned into him and nodded. “Anything you need, Bell, you know where I am.”

“Could I… uh… could I stay here again tonight?”

“Of course.”

He dropped a kiss to the top of her head before he hopped down and shoved his hands in his pockets while he studied the tile floor. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah. Later.”

She stayed rooted to her spot on the counter for a long time after he left, a little unsure of what she had just gotten herself into.